Within the safety of the ancient Massassi Temple on Yavin 4 the hierarchy of the Alliance to Restore the Republic had taken refuge, beginning the long, arduous process of assembling the war machine that they hoped would ultimately defeat the Galactic Empire. Tens of thousands of Rebel personnel drawn from many different species and backgrounds bustled about like a swarm of bees, each with a task to perform that was essential. There were experienced warriors and raw recruits. Soldiers, pilots, technicians ... even cooks. In this chaos there was order, supervised from the command center by the venerable General Jan Dodonna, who did his best to learn each the names of each of the soldiers under his command. The ceaseless noise of space traffic echoed throughout the dense jungle moon as transports continued to ferry men and materials to fortify the base. Flights of starfighters continued to launch as they trained 'round-the-clock to learn the tactics that would prove so valuable in the months to come. In the center of it all was their respected commander, General Dodonna, who stood over a tactical display of the system, watching each blip of light move across the screen, knowing it represented one of the countless lives that had been entrusted to him. There he awaited General Volkov, with news he felt might please the old warrior ... for once. There was news of the most unexpected sort from Alderaan. A miracle, perhaps, but it would take many miracles to win this war.
Simultaneous echoes of clapping footsteps paved the way for the arrival of General Akilist Volkov. Upon his approach, he straightened his head upwards while allowing both hands to compulsively tug at his shirt collar to bring his formal greeting into a most presentable form. Upon entering the war room, Volkov took his place rightfully so along the side of General Dodanna. The general allowed both hands to clutch firmly onto the railing of the command console as his eyes scanned over the virtual report of activity taking place within close proximity of the Massassi base. He gave a slight nod of his chin towards the esteemed General Dodanna in waiting of his updated status report of the current situation.
General Dodonna looked up from the viewscreen as he spotted Volkov approaching from the distance, his ancient face lighting up with warmth, glad to finally be able to share some welcome news. "Akilist," he said in a loud, cheerful voice that had previously gone unused in their week together at the Massassi Station. He strode towards the man, his long flower duster fluttering behind him as he moved. As he approached he reached out with open arms, his hands moving for Volkov's elbows. He embraced him firmly, preventing him from moving any further as he stood before him. "General Willard has informed me of some most excellent and unexpected news," he confessed as he began to walk over towards the tactical display, leading Volkov as moved.
Akilist allowed a most rare smile to crease the outlining of his face amongst the presence of General Dodonna, embracing him with open arms. Perhaps the news would truly be good this time. A light in the night for the hopes that fueled the rebel war machine. He then responded solemnly "And what exactly would that be, my old friend?" Volkov responded with a gentle pat on Dodonna's shoulder.
"We have a source..." General Dodonna began quietly, his eyes roaming over each of the junior officers present in the command center as he spoke. "...close to the situation in the Ringali Shell. Who this person is I do not even know," he continued to explain as he turned in towards Volkov slightly. "This source has been very good to us in the past and we have learned through intermediaries that Lord Tion is being stripped of command of every planet in the Ringali Shell, aside from Ralltiir," the wise old General continued, his voice quickening. "The Empire intends to return to their original tactics in the rest of the region and we feel given this change and the fact that we have a man close to the situation..." his voice going hushed as they reached the head of the nail. "I am sending you back, Akilist. Sending you back with everything I can spare to reinforce your command so that you can turn those five worlds into a thorn in the Empire's side," his voice strong and confident as he motioned for one of the displays.
Akilist's eyes scrolled hesitantly upon hearing about the contact which had been entrenched into the Imperial mainstream. "Always best to keep your enemies close, General." Volkov had nothing but distrust toward any outsiders looking in on the cause of the rebellion for mere profit and self-preservation. He focused his attention along the lingering words that seemed to find their place quite complacent along the depths of his wondering mind. 'I am sending you back Akilist.' His eyes filled with determination as the remainder of the words entered his perception. Finally, the hierarchy had become to result to rational tactics to loosen the noose within the sector to allow operations to pursue as insisted by high command. With reinforcements and legions of heretic idealists at his disposal. Akilist was finally getting his pieces in place in order to orchestrate his decisive blow into the heart of the Empire within the Ringali shell. Akilist was quite versed in the art forms of the local populace, his fluidic idealism allowing him to adapt within the most diverse fields of society. "Keep your enemies close. Now was the time to respond to the treacherous acts of the Galactic Empire. This is great news. I am glad to see that your most intelligent friends have finally resulted to reason."
Derek stood inside the massive hangar that comprised most of Massassi Station, supervising the labor droids as they began unloading the cargo they had acquired on Ord Mantell. With a datapad gripped firmly in his hand he inventoried each portion of the shipment as it was entered into the Rebel arsenal. Once again dressed in the uniform of the Rebel Alliance, the Commander took a slow walk around the shuttle, making a note of each of the new scorch marks that had been made during their recent run in with Imperial pilots. He shook his head as he looked at one particular section, noting it in detail with specific instructions for Petty Officer Ling as to how he wanted it fixed.
Commander Garven Dreis, leader of Red Squadron, slowly approached Derek, wearing the orange flightsuit that served as the mainstay of the Rebel forces. Unstrapping his helmet, having just returned from a patrol, he shook his head at the Gilded Thranta. "Congratulations on bringing your cripple in," he sneered, always preferring the speed and maneuverability of a fighter to a shuttle. "They want you and your people up in the command center," he informed him before moving off to find something to eat and perhaps take a sonic shower.
Emi Shinohara was happy to be at their base. She was still in a slight shambles. That simple grey tunic and long black wrap skirt. She was resting near some of the cargo that Derek was checking on. Her long sleek black hair was something of a mess around her face. She would note to blame it on Derek. She raised a hand up to her lips as she would chew on one of her fingernails restlessly. She moved slightly as she stood up to overhear what the
Commander had told Derek. It looks like they were wanted up in the command center. She crossed her arms and shifted her weight, still looking at Derek..."Well...?"
Derek lay his datapad upon the last crate as the load lifting droid carried it away to sort with the others. They had only been back for a few hours, and already high command was requesting an audience. "Yeah..." he said to Emi with a sigh as he started to move forward, "...let's go find out what our next death defying assignment is going to be." As he moved he could tell the level of activity throughout the base was elevated, tens of thousands of Rebels moving in every direction, each with an important task they had to perform. Making his way through the crowd, stopping only to check on the progress of the much smaller and demure Emi, he eventually made his way towards the command center, where it seemed a slew of high-ranking officers were already waiting.
Dagon was not changing back into his rebel uniform. Because he only owned one, and he'd lost that a while ago. For him it had nothing to do with the uniform. He did pull a light jacket on, helped conceal the slug thrower that had helped him out of the original jam. He kept smoking on his way to link up and receive his next assignment, which he was sure would just be on the opposite side of the galaxy, no where near Ringali Shell, where he needed to get to, where he thought Rodney and the Warspite were still operating.
Yes, Emi was short. But that honestly didn't seem like it when she spoke sometimes. She blinked and moved through the sea of Rebels. She kept up with Derek and would give a shrug as he looked back. Sometimes she wondered if anyone on the ship...or anyone she worked with her found her capable of anything. Well, she could argue her way out of anything. And almost convince anyone that they were wrong. She grinned at that thought. After a few moments she was looking at a few of the high-ranking officers that seemed to be waiting for their small little crew. She glanced over to Dagon who seemed to be waiting as well. She waited. Standing straight and showing her respect to those who deserved it.
As the cadre entered the room, Colonel Bob Hudsol, a most unremarkable man, short in stature and rather rotund, whose most noticeable feature was a bushy, handlebar mustache stepped forward, taking his attention away from the technical readouts he was studying. "Captain Tong," he said as he came to a stop in front of the trio. "We have new orders for unit based on new intelligence we've received from the Alderaanians," he explained as he shifted his glance to Ambassador Shinohara. "We are sending you back to the Core Worlds where you will operate under the command of General Volkov," he explained as he moved over towards one of the large displays that highlighted the region of space where they would operate. "You served in this region, Captain," he reminded him as planets such as Brentaal and Esseles flashed briefly upon the display. "You have firsthand knowledge of operations in the region..." he continued as the planet Ralltiir froze on the display. "We cannot afford another loss like Ralltiir," he confessed, his head sinking lightly in remembrance of the lives that were lost.
Emi was a little surprised as to where they were headed. But at least she would get to dress the part of an Ambassador. Though her face wouldn't show that excitement. There wasn't anything wrong with a woman wanting to look her best when negotiating...especially if that was her main objective in a mission. She gave a nod to the General to show her understanding of what their new mission would entail.
"I know the region." He replied, not arguing the point, and not elaborating. He had never mentioned to anyone that he'd helped cause the problems on Raltirr. But the fact that he was going back had him licking his chops inwardly. Finally, the bastards who left his men to wrought weren't going to get the protection of distance. Now they were going to be back within his range. "Who do the Imperials have on site, and what the nature of the op?"
"Commodore Tion's forces are currently laying waste to Ralltiir," Hudsol explained as a holographic image of the young nobleman appeared on the display. "There is no way to alleviate the situation there, no matter how much we may want to," the General complained. "Your forces will be operating against the conventional Imperial forces throughout the region, using whatever tactics are required to harass and confound the enemy," he said to Tong, issuing the orders from his superior. "Commander Atio," he began as he turned his attention to the naval officer present. "...you got in," he continued, reminding him of the recent mission to the Ringali Shell, "Do you think you can get them back in?"
Derek paused, stepping forward to look at the report on the naval units reported to be moving to the region. "General," he said in a concerned, hush tone as he studied the figures. "This looks to be double the sizes of the forces we encountered last time," he explained as he looked up from the readout, "I'm not sure if even the Argo can run that type of blockade."
Emi just stayed quiet usually in debriefings. Analizing and calculating in her head. If she really wanted to say anything, she'd say everyone was mad for going or doing anything with force. Sometimes she tried to talk to Tong about using his words rather than his pistol. Or tell Derek it's not very polite to shoot first and ask questions later. She sometimes felt like a mother picking up after her children. All in all she usually did her part when it came to a more formal matter. Or when words definitely needed to be exchanged. She crossed her arms over her chest and shifted her weight as she continued to listen.
Golonel Hudsol considered the Commander's opinion as he moved away from the group for a moment to study a list of resources that were currently available to the Alliance in the sector. His brow furrowed as he looked at the disposition of their forces. They did not have much available at this time, but he thought he might be able to spare some forces. "I will dispatch Knave squadron," he stated as he looked up towards Derek again. "The Y-wings will be able to punch a hole large enough for you get through, Commander," he said as his attention then turned to the Ambassador. "You will make contact with key government officials on the worlds of that sector and arrange for their continued support," he instructed her as he moved towards her. "Our sources tell us that their opposition is beginning to cause the Imperial bureaucracy no end of frustration. It must continue," he explained to her. Taking a step back, he looked to each of them. "If there are any questions ... now is the time," he concluded thoughtfully.
Emi bit on her lower lip slightly as she would raise a slim brow. "I understand General." She thought for a few moments. The only thing she wanted to ask was something that might put the General off. She just gave a nod and shifted her weight again. She wasn't trying to show annoyance. She was trying to calculate some course of negotiations that she must go through. Something that probably would be easier if she didn't put too much thought into it. But then again...her own thoughts would slowly trail off.
He could not remember the last time some one had asked him to be more diplomatic. But he had no problem turning his tactics back on the Imperials. They had always seemed to enjoy the outcome before. Now he had to go see to his troops, get them kitted out, and ready to move. Should be an interesting infiltration, and he was not sure if there would even be an extraction.
Rake woke up to find the ship no longer moving. He stood from his seat and made his way fore to the hatch, slowly gaining his bearing as he did so. He religiously checked his gear, ensuring that every item he had was present. All too often people 'Nar Shadda' and rob you, and that's just damned unpleasant. Satisfied he was in one piece and in possession of all of his worldly goods, he made his way down the ramp of the ship into the loading bay of the hangar. He was disoriented, and he only knew the names of one of the passengers on the ship. Stopping a pilot, he asked the man where he could find a Mr. Tong "You know, the big ugly son of a bitch that always looks like somebody's raining on his parade." That got a chuckle and directions. Rake nodded his thanks to the guy, and made his way to the command suite of the base. He was stopped at the door by a guard that took his job way too serious. The man tried to push Rake back from the door, and Rake popped him in the mouth and went inside before the man could stop him, followed by a string of epitaphs and demands that he halt. Rake replied in turn with a series of words that would make even a space blush with shame.
Dagon glanced over as the door opened, and then back to the commanders. "Man thinks I owe him a ship." And with that, he walked out, leaving them to deal with the issue. He had just been told some good news. So he had a call to make. He had to track down his team, or what ever poor excuse for replacements he had been given, make sure they were ready to fight his sort of war in the Ringali Shell. Which he doubted, given that they got grumpy half the time when he was supposed to be playing nice. And better place to make such a call than in a hijacked office, drinking someone else's coffee, smoking their cigars. It'd give him the privacy he needed for now.
Rake blocked Dagon's exit, placing his six foot one, two hundred and ten pound frame squarely in his path. He wasn't letting him get away this time. That guy cost him a ship, a good loading droid, and all his worldly possessions and what pissed him off the most is his theory that the guy had known trouble was coming. He seemed like that kind of guy. Somebody with sound intelligence that never shared. Nothing pissed Rake off more than somebody who'd leave somebody out to dry just to further their own business. He fixed Dagon eye-to-eye, standing just a foot away "We need to talk, buddy. And it ain't just about my ship. And you ain't gonna dodge it."
"I'm not dodging anything. I have work to do. I don't have time to wipe your tears and make you feel better because you had people after you. You should thank me for not disintegrating you, and keeping you breathing free air. Either way, I have things far more important than the ego of some kid who had a bad day on my mind. Especially when I saved said kids life." And with that, he walked out. He wasn't going to hash things out in front of the command staff. He had a spotty record at best with the Rebellion, especially in the moral department, and he wasn't about to loose a chance at finding a chance to plant Rodney in the ground for what he'd done to his team on Brentaal. And it should in his demeanor. All business, the same as he'd been on Ord Mantell.
Derek stood with Golonel Hudsol for a moment, studying the reports on the Imperial naval presence in the Ringali Shell. Even with the support of an elite squadron of Y-wings, it would still be an incredibly perilous journey that would take them deep within the Galactic Empire. Shaking his head, disconcertingly he began to move back through the complex maze of corridors that would lead him back towards the ship, stopping for only a moment to look at the continuing squabble between Tong and Carson. After several moments of meandering through the centuries old temple and pushing his way through engineering teams and cargo containers he arrived at the shuttle again. He watched as the craft was in the process of being towed outside of the hangar, most likely with the intention of being loaded back onto the Argo. He made a mental note to load the shuttle to the brim with as many supplies as he could get his hands on, if the corvette was compromised, he might be able to fit most of the crew on the shuttle as a makeshift life barge. Escape pods were too easily captured by the Empire, though fortunately they were seldom shot at by Imperial gunners.
Emi wasn't exactly the right person to grab a gun or grab a turret and charge into battle. And she really didn't like the idea of only having one Y-Wing squadron. She pursed her lips as she heard what she needed to hear for her part of the new mission. So it was back to the ship for her. She started walked next to Derek for few moments after he left the command center. She looked back over to the shuttle that wasn't far now, seeing Dagon and their new plus one. A few things were streaming through her head...Not all of them were good. She ran a hand through that slightly messy long dark hair. "Derek...can I speak to you for a moment?" she asked, having to speak a little louder than usual, to be overheard by the hustle and bustle of other Rebels in the area.
"Hold on just a damn minute, Tong. If that's even your damn name." Rake took off after him. Truthfully, he wasn't really that angry at the guy. He was just pissed he'd lost everything he owned, had nowhere to go, and no way to get there, and he needed somebody to take it out on. Rake could not stand not being in control, not having a reason for everything. He followed Dagon to the office, and when the door was shut on them, he paused a moment to ensure that they couldn't be overheard. He didn't care that he was acting like a kid, he wanted things set straight. He wanted some kind of compensation, and a guaranteed way out of there "Look, pal. You know damn well I wouldn't have hung around that planet if I didn't have to deliver cargo. And I'd have handled those troopers just fine. And I want to know whether you knew they were coming or not, and I want to know how the hell you intend to get me off this God-forsaken rock of a planet and back to some semblance of civilization, and I want to know how you intend to clear my name so that I can go about my career in some form of peace. And I want to know now."
"Yes, that's my real name, so don't call me pal or bud. No, I didn't know you were slotted to be arrested or that the Imperials. If I had, I wouldn't have been there, because I guarantee you, they want me a lot more than they wanted you. I'm not in a position to care that your name isn't clear, because you are the one who got the warrant on it in the first place. As for you getting back to civilization, I also don't see how that's my department. Now, Does that satisfy your curiosity? You want to be pissed that you had the deck fall out from under your feet, go for it. I'm sure there's a cantina of grunts and snub fighter pilots that all have similar stories to tell. I have men to prep for deployment." He paused and dug into the desk, finding the real occupant of the office's cigars, and took one, lighting it. "So, K'tanini, and tell me what you really want, or get out so I can do my job." Carson might not speak any Mando'a, but it was something that an Ordo had once told him, and it stuck, especially on Kamino, where he used it all the time with the fresh clones. Suck it up. But it was clearly a Mando'a phrase, so if the man had ever met a clone, he might be able to place it.
"Of course, Ambassador," Derek said as he looked around the hangar, observing all of the calamity that made having a conversation an impossibility. He extended one of his hands towards her and rested it upon the small of her back with a nod of his head. Moving forward, he escorted her outside of the hangar bay onto one of the stone paths leading away from the temple. It was quieter, but still close enough to civilization that an attack by a voracious predator was unlikely. His eyes glanced to the chronometer on his wrist ... the ship would be ready soon. "What is on your mind?" he asked her as he nodded to one of the nameless sentries that proceeded deeper down the path.
Emi would let Derek escort her down a stone path. She noted that he looked at his chronometer not wanting to keep him from doing his job of finishing prepping the ship. Something did not sit well with her. Something to do with the lack of help they were getting. "Do you really think that an elite squadron of Y-wings will really be enough aid on this mission? I mean...Sure we're dealt with less and done fine. But to be in the belly of the beast. We've come to some close calls before...I don't know. Maybe I'm just a little weirded out that Tong even bothered bringing someone else on board. It's a little out of his character. Though, I'm quite glad to see that he didn't kill him..." her voice would slowly trail off as she would look up to Derek, wondering if his concerns were the same as her own.
"Nar dalshya, ner vod." Rake had had a little contact with the clones back in the day. He'd been in the IN back when they did the big changeover. NavSpecFor had even had a few in there, and they were a rough lot. He had gotten along okay with them, but they still gave him the heebie-jeebies. Dagon Tong, eh. The name rung a bell, from back in the old days. The anti-piracy campaigns. There had been a group of guys, he thought, a couple of his buddies had disappeared into some deep secret op, and he thought he remembered hearing that. But he wasn't quite sure. The guy was obviously ex-military. That much was obvious. The way he looked, the way he carried himself, it just spoke soldier. No matter. Rake had come to realize, though he hated it, that he no longer had a choice in his life. He had no ship, and no transport, and he was stuck on a rebel base and wanted by the empire. That meant he had to get out. He had known it as soon as he came off the shuttle in the hangar bay. When he had heard the orders this guy had, he knew his way out, but he did not really like it "Kopaani Gaan, mate?"
"That depends. Why'd you ditch your last uniform." He took a pull of the cigar, and turned his eyes back to the datapad he was using. He was sending orders to the rest of the squad, such as it was. Prep for a long, drawn out excursion. Lots of contact. And check your squeamishness, and ethical setbacks at the door. Back to the old days and old ways. Though hopefully the Rebels had more spine than to try and wipe his guys out when it was all said and done. He was not terribly confident that they would like the methods, but he doubted they would go as far as to try and use his people as a scapegoat like Rodney had tried. But the Mando'a was getting his chance. Deep down, it lifted his spirits.
Commander Atio considered the words spoken to him by Ambassador Shinohara carefully, nodding his head to her reassuringly several times. "A squadron of Y-wings can be quite useful in the right situation," he was quick to point out, but he could not ignore the fact that they were truly up against it this time. He smirked at her, raising one of his hands as he placed it upon her shoulder reassuringly. "It won't be easy," he explained, nodding his head to her as he spoke. "...but I would give us one chance in ten," he added as he tried to reassure her. "As for Captain Tong," he continued, moving to the other question she asked, "...I'm not sure that man's mother would understand his methods." He laughed slightly, a smirk coming upon his usually upbeat face. "But ... hey ... I'm just the driver," he added as he began to lead her over towards where the Argo was being repaired.
Yavin 4 at the beginning of the dry season. There were few places lovelier; or at least as far as Reilly was concerned. Whisper birds fluttered overhead and the ground seemed alive with movement. She knew Derek would hate it but for her it was paradise. "Pity to have to leave," she thought as she strolled back to the temple. By now someone was probably hurt. Tensions had been running high, especially among the commandoes who were itching for action. Her enjoyment of the terrain was cut short by Tong's message. Squeamishness was not an issue, the commander's ethical setbacks, that was a different story. Jaw muscles tightened as she thought about exactly what that would mean. A large bug crossed her path, forcing her to skip a step so as not to harm it. All life was precious. The sergeant had 'packed' before going exploring. All the medical supplies she could manage were tucked neatly into two large packs. All she could carry aside from rations and weapons. Now carrying said med packs, she made her way to the rendezvous point.
"We all just better do a damn good job then..." Emi said as she listened to him intently. "Thanks for hearing me out. I'm sure it's a lot of babble to you. But at least I can say, 'I told you so!' if something should go wrong." She gave a slight laugh and she would follow him. "Yeah...but you're quite the talented driver at that...Wait. Aren't I supposed to be furious with you? For making me almost piss myself for having to maneuver that shuttle?" She said as she would playfully slap him on the shoulder. "Sleep with one eye open..." She tried hard to keep a straight face...did not work.
Rake stopped cold. He ha never told anyone he had been in the Navy. He had never told anybody anything about his service. He had no idea how this guy knew he'd been cashiered out. Most people assumed he had been Corellian Defense Force, and done something good to get his bloodstripe, and that was that. And in a way, that was true. But nobody ever thought he had been cashiered out. Hell, the last three years of his service had been hush-hush, working for a group that didn't exist, doing things that people did not know about. Carson took a seat in the visitor's chair of the office, lit up a cigarello, and stared right at Tong. If the guy knew that much, he knew why. He searched the guy's eyes, and then just stared through him, lost in another place and time "Fest, nine years ago. They set us down, one of those damned riots. My team, they got shot up real bad. We tried to exfil, but the bastards had AT's. We took fire from a settlement, and we, well. I..." He stopped. Taking another drag off of his Cigarello "I called it in, the Commander told us to blow it. We traced the whole thing with T-21, lobbed a few thermals in, and we went in to clear it out. As we went in, some guy ran across the road into one of the buildings, and I blew the thing. When we cleared it out, there was one guy armed. The rest were civvies. Would have been bad enough, except there's no record of my report, no record of me telling them we took fire. They just fried me. I was the guy in charge, so they cooked my ass. The other guys all got reassigned out, and I got cashiered. Simple as that."
"Welcome to the Cuy'Val dar. We'll be leaving within the next few days. Might be you can cash out of this, enough to restart your smuggling runs. Go look over the planets in the Ringali Shell, major cities, Intel on garrisons. You'll need it." He hated that the brass called the unit Tong's Commandos. He didn't like that people that had no business knowing had intel on who was in the unit, or operations they'd undertaken in the past. So when he spoke of his unit, he used the name given by Jango to the one-hundred trainers, mostly Mando'a that had created the Grand Army of the Republic, as much as the Kaminioans had anyway. He took a long drag off the cigar. "You'll meet the rest of the unit before then. If you feel as if you aren't rigged out for a month of Guerrilla warfare, find a supply officer." Simply as that. Not even a secret handshake.
"No, no, no," Derek complained as he hurried towards the corvette, a look of dismay coming upon his face as he saw that they had completely removed the sensor array. "Who authorized this?" he yelled in the direction of Sergeant Judah, seeing that she was only recognizable face in a sea of anonymous engineers and technicians that were scurrying over the hull of damaged vessel. "We don't have time for a major overhaul like this," he grumbled as he moved towards the service ladder and began to ascend to stand on top of the outer hull of his beloved ship. As he moved towards where the sensor array used to be, he dropped down to his knees and let out an exhaustive sigh. He dreamed of the day when he would serve aboard ship where everything was new and actually worked. His eyes moved back down towards the Ambassador and the Medic on the planet's surface and shouted down to them. "Give me a hand getting that thing back up here," he said as he moved to the controls of the crane that was temporarily affixed to the top of the Argo, swinging it into position directly above the downed array.
"Seems you're off your meds again, sir. I'm not a mechanic." she was squatting, going through the med packs, though they'd been prepared by her and she knew they were perfect. "I'd be more than happy to help but if I get my hands wounded 'might not be able to perform that 'special' surgery you've been wanting." Of course there was no special surgery, but Reilly looked down at the commander's crotch to give the techs an idea of what she might be talking about.
Emi could not help but chuckle. "Sorry...you're on your own. I'm a negotiator...not a mechanic..." her voice trailed off again as she looked to Reilly. She gave a friendly nod as she moved away from all the 'mechanical stuff'. She figured it would be safer for her elsewhere.
"Affirm. Any particular planet we're going to, and do I get to know why?" He already knew what he needed. An E-11, some frags, and that was pretty much it. He had everything he wanted. A comlink, of course. He lit another cigarello and took a drag. His hand had been forced, and now he was a rebel. He had effectively played every card in the deck, now. There just were not anymore sides to be played "And where'd you say I could find that supply officer?"
"Supply geeks like the hangar bay. Ralltiir and Brentaal will be the ones most important. And we're going to harass and disrupt the total of Imperial forces manning garrisons in that area. Standard stuff for a special squid." He finished with the datapad, and stood up, intending to go find more coffee, and hopefully, not have to deal with a lecture from either the medic or the ambassador about how he should show restraint in the coming weeks. He doubted he would manage to stay clear of that, but it was easier to not have the talk than ignore them for two minutes and then threaten to shoot them if they didn't get out of his way.
Derek shook his head down at the ladies as he walked over towards the edge of the ship. Taking the crane's cable into his hands he grabbed on to it, repelling his way back down to the planet's surface. There were no time for ladders. His hands immediately brought the cable over towards the large sensor array and he carefully wrapped it around the system in a figure-eight to secure it properly. "Take her up," Derek bellowed as he supervised the sensor array moving back on top of the Argo. Backing up slightly he tilted his head to the side carefully watch it moving into position. This was arguably the most important component to the ship, after the engine, and if it was not done properly their return to the Ringali Shell would be a short-lived one. "Make sure you load the shuttle with additional medical supplies, Sergeant," Derek ordered as he looked over at her. That she could at least do, he thought to himself.
"Kriffen battlecan's gonna break a hip." She shook her head while watching the commander swing around. She wondered why he thought it necessary to tell her the obvious. "All loaded, sir!" This was said much louder than the hip breaking comment but with the same playfulness in her voice. She had quite enjoyed the lack of rigidness the rebellion had to offer. Imperial life was way too stiff for her.
Emi sort of stuck out like a sore thumb. She was a diplomat. Well, of a sort. She was not really all that useful when it came to stuff like this. She could not help but shake her head to Reilly, rather enjoying the spunk she had. She figured she'd do something useful, or more constructive. Maybe find some information from Tong about a few things. Maybe to give him a talking to...she knew how much he loved hearing her babble. Not that she cared. After a few moment's she bumped into Tong and the other that he so kindly seemed to rescue. "Gentlemen..." She said with a shrug..."I'm not interrupting anything am I?" Emi said with a slight smile.
"Only important things, miss. Like the fate of the free world. But I guess they can wait." He nodded a greeting and settled back down into the chair, smoking his cigarello and going over the Ringali Shell on his datapad. He knew the area fairly well, but it'd never hurt to do things the right way. He made a few notes regarding installation strengths and estimated training levels every now and then, but mostly he just sat and read, thought about getting the hell off this rock. Carson had always hated being tied down by anything, and now he really was stuck. So he anxiously bit at this possible ticket home.
Reilly was not one to hobnob with regal types so the presence of the ambassador was unnerving. Such pretty things they wore. Pretty hair. Pretty face. She was rather relieved when the woman left. With Derek trying to kill himself by 'helping' the mechanics, she thought it best to go back to the med bay and prepare for something of his to be broken. Well, actually that was just an excuse to get off the deck.
Tong left the new guy to deal with the ambassador. He wanted to get a cup of coffee, and think through all the different options he had facing him. But at least he was taking a shooter that he did not have to train first. Mostly because he knew how the man had been trained. But before he dug into the work ahead of him, he seemed to stare off, giving a silent salute to his fallen. And then it was right to work, trying to plan a war that would leave the Empire crying in their soup over the fact that a single sector, maybe even a single planet, was responsible for tying down divisions, if not whole Corps of ground forces and the necessary logistic support.
Derek supervised the reinstallation of the ship's sensor array, satisfied that the ragtag crew of technicians had done their job to his satisfaction. Once it was done, he dropped down into the ship through an access hatch and meandered his way through the winding corridors until he arrived at the Argo's bridge. Taking a seat in the captain's chair, he began to study over the reports detailing the maintenance that had been done on the ship. There had not been time for most of what he requested, and that was to be expected. He was pleased however to see that they had been well-supplied at least. It had been months since they were operating at this capacity. But none of this changed the fact that they were expected to immediately reenter the combat zone.