You have been summoned to the tactical operations center aboard the Solidarity, a Venator class vessel that serves as the flagship for Jedi Master Ezar Elasra's small but successful Outer Rim battle group. With the summons comes directions that a Theta class shuttle will pick them up and transport them to the Solidarity.
Your shuttle arrives at the appropriate time and location. Within hours the shuttle drops out of hyperspace at the rendezvous point. The Solidarity appears to be much the same as all of the other Venator class Star Destroyers, although it has clearly seen it's share of battle. Repair crews work all over the outside of the ship, patching holes that were punched in the hull by turbolaser fire.
Once the shuttle lands on the Solidarity and you walk off you are met by a pair of Clone troopers and escorted directly to Master Elasra's private briefing room. Ezar Elasra is a tall, powerfully built Barabel with crimson scales covering most of his body. He has donned a functional set of black jedi robes, and passes before a hologram of a tannish colored gas giant hovering above a tactical display. Attending Master Elasra is a human in a Republic Navy Captain's uniform. The Captain turns toward you as you enter, I am Captain Ralen, the captain of the Solidarity. He then nods over to a another man peering closely at the tactical display, a clone commando with his helmet off. This is Commander Husk. As the Captain is speaking the Jedi dismisses your escort.
The gas giant you see before you is Bespin, a world on the Corellian Trade Route. Some months ago, the planet fell into Separatist hands, and we could not spare the resources to oppose them. Since that time, the Separatists have used their control of the world to disrupt trade and supply lines as well as harvesting the tibanna gas, and the Jedi Council has tasked us with dislodging the Separatists and reopening the trade route.
This display shows the Separatist defense fleet around Bespin. As you can see, the planet is extremely well defended, and a direct attack against such a fleet would be costly.
Bespin's capital city possess a planetary ion cannon that was used unsuccessfully in its defense when the Confederacy took control of the planet. We believe that a small strike force can slip past the blockade, seize control of the planetary ion cannon, and use the cannon to launch a surprise attack against the fleet in orbit. With a large amount of the defense fleet disabled by the ion cannon, our fleet will jump into the system, engage the remaining defenders, and launch a full scale ground assault of the planet.
Once Master Elasra finishes Captain Ralen continues the briefing, You are the strike force for this assault. You will be transported by an LAAT/s stealth dropship normally used by Republic Commandos for covert insertion into enemy territory. You will be accompanied by four clone commandos and a contingent of six clone troopers. While you perform your mission the clone troopers will remain at the landing site to guard the LAAT/s from snooping droids. The clone commandos have their own mission to infiltrate and sabotage the primary Separatist military base on Bespin.
Myralda stays silent as she senses the other gathered members. She has her hood pulled back, revealing her apparent human appearance with long brown hair in a thick braid. However, her eyes are covered, as she is not a human, but a miraluka.
She is quite surprised at the team of troops gathered. Three ARC Troopers and a team of commandos? This will be a tough mission, Myralda determines.
BX-F1 is perhaps the last thing you'd expect to see on a Republic cruiser. He's obviously a BX-series commando droid, one of the Separatist Alliance's elite special operations models. However, his frame shows extensive modifications and repairs. His armor is heavy dark grey metal, even more so than a usual model, and covered with patches and scorch marks. His entire left arm seems to have been replaced with a slightly less streamlined one made of bronze metal. A heavy cloak is wrapped around his body, making him resemble one of the infamous magnaguards.
"A logical strategy. Do you possess information regarding the composition and strength of the Separatist garrison?"
Trooper A-46 snaps a quick to-attention when he enters the room, in deference to Commander Husk and the Jedi General present--he also nods to Myralda, assuming that she holds a similar position if not the same precise rank. The clone is wearing a curious armor that appears a cross between that of an ARC trooper and something more akin to the clone commandos' armor. It looks to be made of an odd material that doesn't seem to reflect light so much as warp it, giving it an odd color and visual texture. As with all the clones, he's of a uniform height (disregarding small discrepancies due to precise armor specifications), and is armed as always, with a pistol on his hip and a rifle at ready on a sling.
"Sounds like another day in the Grand Army," the clone comments. His nearly flippant tone cements his position as a free-will ARC if there was any doubt remaining. "With all due respect, though, is it wise to send a commando team in alongside our own? This is gonna be tricky enough without added potential for complications." After a split-second too long he glances at the commandos. "No offense."
Trooper A-83 salutes upon entering the room with General Elasra, Captain Ralen, and Commander Husk before shifting to attention alongside Spook. It would be good to work with him again, since Spook was always handy to have in a fight.
Breaker's armor looked much like standard ARC Trooper armor, although marked in red and with some signs of carbon scoring from close blaster misses - and some too close detonations. The helmet also looks bulkier than other ARC Trooper armor, as though it had extra equipment packed into it. A vision enhancement device rests on top of the helmet, ready to be slid into position for use. The right forearm plate has an elevated housing, from which can be seen the tip of a blade of some variety. His DC-17m has straps holding 5 anti-armor shells for the launcher configuration. His bandolier has several different grenades attached to it, and way he's careful with his pack indicates there may be more explosives in there.
"I actually have a similar question to A-46. Wouldn't the Seps have set their primary base up around the ion cannon? Seems to me that if we're going to take the ion cannon, we would likely have to sabotage the primary base anyway." His tone is less flippant than Spook's, but he still seems comfortable in questioning the decision to have a separate team of commandos involved. He also sounds slightly eager at the though of getting to sabotage something.
Rima isn't too happy about having to leave her ship behind, but it's safely docked at a trusted, safe slip back on Coruscant, so that shouldn't be too big an issue.
For now.
After trying and failing to engage the shuttle pilot in copious amounts of small-talk, Rima gives up and sets about observing the other occupants of the shuttle.
The Jedi smells funny, but they all do. The clones... getting more and more common, lately. Nothing to be too concerned about, except for the fact that they're not run-of-the-mill frontline troops. It doesn't take an expert in military theory to recognize Special Forces. ARC troopers.
And then there's the droid.
This... this is not going to be a standard blue milk run.
Rima's unassuming, almost casual attire is markedly out of place among the stark military and Jedi uniforms in the room. Her sturdy, multi-pocketed jacket is well-worn, matched by an equally weathered belt, itself sporting numerous pouches and small devices. She wears a simple, sleek, black unitard beneath the jacket, a pair of sturdy, practical boots on her feet, while a matching pair of gloves rests tucked into a loop on the left shoulder of her jacket. A blaster pistol rests on her hip, the pommel of which has been modified for her grip. The gun seems nearly comically too large for her, but the weapon has clearly seen a good deal of use. Her hair is held out of her face by a stiff, dark headband.
When the second Jedi makes an appearance, she sneezes, then shakes her head clear, mumbling something in Zeltron about the whole room smelling like an obscure spice.
Rima perks up at the mention of Bespin, brows furrowing at the talk of the planetary Ion Cannon.
When she gets the opportunity, she speaks up:
"Bespin's deep in the Anoat sector, Sir," she says, pointing at its location on the map. "That's near Hutt space, as well. Matou, Hoth, Burnin Konn... All of those worlds are known smuggler and dissident hideouts. Lots of mining and black market trade. Have we considered coming in via a less... confrontational type of insertion? An LAAT is not exactly subtle."
"As to the Ion Cannon?" she continues. "Where is that being supported? One of the moons, or on a floating platform in the cloud layers? What kind of environmental issues are we looking at here?"
Rima nods, emphatically.
"What my highly explosive comrade said. This. Exactly this."
Much like his two fellow ARCs, Holliday snaps to attention when he enters the room and spots the Jedi Master as well as the commander. His armor is heavier than the other two although built in the same style, with more reinforced plating along the torso and a jet-pack--among other things--built into the armor's cuirass. Like one of his fellows his armor is accented in red, and a pair of painted spikes sit over the top of his helmet's T-shaped visor. Holstered on each hip is a large blaster pistol, and the cloth wrapped about his waist appears both light and durable. He folds his arms over his chest while they're being debriefed, and holds his tongue until his two comrades say their piece. "If they are attacking the base with the ion cannon installation, they'll just get in the way." He gives the commandos a sidelong glance, but it's impossible to tell his expression with his helmet on. "Are the bulk of the Separatist forces not located at the ion cannon installation? If so, do we know why? Otherwise, all these commandos will accomplish is dying, and it hardly seems worth the cost of growing them if that's your plan." The sarcasm in his voice is unmistakable, and for anyone not familiar with ARCs it certainly sounds out-of-place for a clone to be so forward with, well... anyone.
Myralda mentally checks off that these are true ARC Troopers. Blunt, direct, and arrogant. But then again, they had every right to be. She had seen a few in action, even a null ARC one time. They often accomplished feats even a Jedi Master would be hard pressed to do with the Force. She didn't prefer to work with them all the same, because their mercenary mindset from Jango often went directly against the Jedi traditions.
And how does this Zeltron fit into this mission? Myralda wondered. Again, she stays silent for the moment, taking note of the emotions of the others in the Force
Unfortunately we do not know the extent of defenses that the ion cannon has. However, I would assume it will be fairly competent. Republic Intelligence has identified a Zygerrian Separatist, identified as Commander Zolghast, as the man in charge of the cannon's security. Should you encounter him he is considered a high value target and Intelligence wants him alive for interrogation. His capture is not a priority, but would definitely be worth a couple of cases of corellian whiskey - the good stuff.
The Separatists have a wide array of droids and vehicles on planet, but I wouldn't expect more than the various battle droids to oppose you. We have the codes that were in use when the Republic had control of the planet, but I am sure they have been changed. The cannon is on the primary floating platform.
They have not set up their main base around the ion cannon. Intelligence believes they have done this to force any invading forces to attack both places at once. That is why the commando team is being sent in, they are going in your ride because we don't have another LAAT/s available at the moment.
As for an alternate insertions, that was one of the plans put forward but our time table did not make it feasible.
Accessing memory banks. Data retrieved.
"I recognize this name. Commander Zolghast is a fairly well known officer within the Separatist Alliance. He is known for cautious behavior, often branching into paranoia. If we wish to use the cannon, taking him alive will likely be a requirement. He will likely have changed the command codes needed to fire it and is likely the only one who has the current code. I recommend that this task be given higher priority. If we are unable to make use of the cannon, our stealth insertion will have no purpose."
Rima cocks an eyebrow, tapping a finger against her chin.
"What's our window? It must be soon, or an alternate insertion would still be on the table."
Quietly, she sighs, then straightens.
"We may need jet packs. Are there jet packs available?"
Breaker nods at the response to their questions, and then looks at BX-F1. "So, what's the deal with this clanker, here? We sure it won't betray us?"
Spook stands silent through the briefing, taking note of the others without outwardly moving. Breaker and Holliday he knew, of course--all the ARCs knew each other to some extent, and the three of them had worked together before. They were good men to have on a team, and the three supported one another, their strengths branching into different directions to make them a devastating fireteam. The Zeltron struck as undisciplined, and with the outfit, Spook guesses she's a mercenary. The droid... if it's truly repurposed, it shouldn't be an issue, but Breaker would see to that. And of course, the Jedi--she could be trusted.
When the second round of questions starts, Spook waits for some of the others to speak up and be answered before putting forward his own. "Sir, forgive my asking, but you said we believe the Seps' setup is designed to make us attack both places at once. Doesn't that mean we're playing into their hands?" He cocks his head after a moment. "Although a team with ARCs and a Jedi on one side, and a team of RCs on the other... That'll put a dent in anyone's operation."
He hooks a thumb at BX-F1. "And if what he says is true, I could use some stun grenades. Usually my job isn't on the 'bring them in alive' vein."
"I will be able to handle capturing this commander alive once we reach him," Myralda says, finally speaking up.
BX-F1 looks over at the clone. This is certainly not the first time that he's been suspected of treachery, and it likely won't be the last. "My processor was damaged and my prime directives were destroyed during the Battle of Felucia months ago. I have been required to self-determinate ever since. My further encounters with the Separatist forces have ended in attempts to decommission me for unnecessary independence. Logic dictates that I ally myself with another force or go in to hiding to insure my survival. Allying with a criminal cartel would be distasteful and joining a neutral faction would likely minimize my combat usage, rendering my primary function unnecessary. Therefore, switching sides is the most efficient way to insure continued functionality and purpose." That cover story should be sufficient. Republic commanding officers are already aware of his concerns regarding Separatist high command, and this grunt doesn't need to know at the present time.
"So, what you're saying is that if it's logical to do so, you'll switch sides. Least you're honest about it." This droid definitely coupdn't be trusted. It might be best to get a restraining bolt for it, just in case.
"I will pick the option that most insures my survival. If that involves working with my former enemies, then such an action is acceptable. Provided I am not given a reason to believe my survival or independence would be threatened, I have no reason to change sides again." He left it unsaid but monumentally clear that there would be no one to blame for his behavior other than the paranoid clone if they attempted to threaten him. "How long has this clone been in service? I have heard that they suffer mental degradation due to their rapid aging. Perhaps he has developed an unhealthy level of paranoia." Organic soldiers were so much less efficient than droids. More creative and intelligent certainly, but they were vulnerable to so many more faults than a well built machine.
"Ease back, boys and... sort of... boys..." Rima says, shaking her head. "We wouldn't be here if the Captain and the Jedi didn't think we would make a reasonable team. How about we trust their judgement and make this work? After this is over, the survivors can buy a round of drinks for the memory of those who don't. Plan? Plan."
She again looks to Captain Ralen and Master Elasra.
"So. Jetpacks? Maybe it's the RIS in me, but Bespin... Bespin's a long way down."
Spook nods at Myralda without further question or comment. Just as the Miraluka knows the aptitude of clones, Spook understands the capabilities of a trained Jedi Knight. If she says she can take care of it, she can. End of debate.
Another debate is starting, though, and Spook holds off for a moment as Breaker makes his opinion clear. 83 had a special place in his heart reserved for droids--not a very nice place, either. Still, it came down to the mercenary to point out the situation, and that was enough to make Spook speak up. "Breaker, that's enough. If we have a droid on the team, I'd rather have one that can think for itself instead of blindly follow orders. I think we can all appreciate that." He turns to BX-F1. "As for you, 'this clone' has been in service as long as any of us, and we're all still worth a thousand droids or more in the field. Chalk his wariness up to being shot at by a few too many that looked like you." He folds his arms. "And I think you'll find that 'mental degradation' isn't part of our skillset."
"A birth defect perhaps. Or damage sustained in battle then. Regardless, better to stop poking the irrational paranoia. Internal conflict will not benefit the mission." The droid stares at the other clone for a moment. "Very well. I will, 'be the bigger person' as I believe the expression goes and not allow the many, many times a clone has attempted to kill me to interfere with a priority mission."
Once the briefing is over you will be leaving in 30 minutes. Jet packs can be requisitioned for anyone who wants one. Command of this mission falls to Jedi Looska. Jedi Looska may choose her second.
As for if we are playing into the Seps to a degree we are. However, they are not expecting a stealth strike team, they expect a full on military assault.
Rima smiles a small smile at the approval for Jetpacks. Flying in space in a ship is one thing, but free-falling into a gas giant is entirely another.
And maybe in a pinch they could be used as bombs. Who could say?
"I have one last question, Sir," she says, nodding at the display of the city. "Do we have maps or plans of the city to determine our route, or are we doing a bounding overwatch block hop? Standard RIS procedure is to know the terrain before doing an infiltration. I can't imagine it's any different in the Grand Army."
She looks to the Jedi of the group. "Once we know that, I'm all yours, boss."
Myralda nods at her assignment of command. She had expected it, though she knew she would end up relying on the clone's military knowledge like always. She still remembers when the losses the GAR took when they first instilled the peaceful Jedi as military leaders. Did not end well for many.
When the Zeltron speaks to her, Myralda smiles. A non-clone answer. Well, maybe it was a good thing to have someone who isn't all protocol along every once in a while.
Breaker doesn't take the bait when the droid calls him paranoid, and merely says, "You want to prove you won't betray us, then prove it by blasting other battle droids once we're in the field. Actions speak louder than programming." He turns from the droid and back to the briefing, apparently dismissing it from his mind.
Breaker nods at the decision for the Jedi to be given the command. He would have expected nothing less. The Zeltron had revealed herself as RIS, which meant she likely had a more effective skill set than at first look. She would be useful. And maybe this droid could be given a chance. If it was useful and didn't betray them.
Breaker looked at Holliday and asks, "So, think I should requisition a jet pack for the mission? I know you're pretty good with one, so I figured I'd ask."
Spook is also surprised to hear that Rima is RIS, although it doesn't show--the benefits of a full-face helmet. He nods at Myralda's assignment as team leader, having expected it the whole time, and turns slightly as Breaker asks Holliday about jet packs. "They aren't that difficult to operate, right? Probably better to have one just in case." He glances at the model on the back of the other ARC. "They are pretty damn bulky, though."
It is no surprise that the Jedi is given command of the mission. By Republic law, she holds the highest rank over anyone on the mission and Jedi are generally the most trusted members of the Republic forces. "Standard jetpack bulk should not impede functionality enough to devalue them. The safety net of being able to survive being knocked off of a floating city seems worth it."
He looks over at the zeltron. "The spy's question is logical. The more data we have concerning the target location, the higher our chances of mission success."
"That's up to you. The fuel cell on a standard jet pack will only last around a minute before it gives out, but that'll probably be long enough to keep your sorry asses from plummeting to your deaths." When Spook gives a sidelong glance at Holliday's own integrated jet pack, he grins--not that anyone could tell--and shakes his head. "You're right, not hard to operate; they just take a second to switch on, is all. Most aren't as bulky as this one, I had it built-in so it can run off the armor's internal generator. I've been in the air for a couple of hours at a time with no problem, but the trade-off is the size. If you're going to bring one along, I'd suggest requisitioning a few spare fuel cells... just in case. Nothing like getting your sorry ass thrown off a giant floating spire and then realizing you're out of juice."
Much like his fellows, the full-face helmet hides his surprise that the Zeltron is with Republic Intelligence. Still, it wasn't unbelievable; she'd been asking good questions, after all. "If we don't have a good operational layout, I can provide one. I should be able to stay high enough that I can get you the layout of the area, and provide real-time information on troop movements. It worked pretty well on Kamino."
"Well, while we're at it, we may as well grab some ascension launchers, just in case. I don't plan on falling to my gaseous doom, but it's never a bad idea to have contingency plans."
Rima fiddles with her headband, takes a deep breath, and smiles.
"We do have contingency plans, right?"
You can requisition those items from the quartermaster. Any further plans are up to you. Maps of the city are provided, and where the base and ion cannon is located.
"If the briefing is concluded, we should proceed to the quartermaster and obtain any necessary gear then proceed to hanger for our departure." He nods to the two officers. "Captain, Master Jedi."
"Thank you for the information. We will be sure to accomplish our mission, Captain Ralen, Master Elasra," Myralda says, making a small bow. Myralda wonders whether to speak to Master Elasra of Vika, as she knows they knew each other, but decides not to. Most did not like her attachment to her old master, and she did not know if he would also disapprove. Best to stay silent.
As the briefing concludes, Rima eyes the hologram display one more time, making note of the scale of the operation and shaking her head slightly. If only they'd had more time.
As quickly as possible, she heads to a communications terminal, where she contacts the Solidarity's Quartermaster, obtaining a requisition for a number of items for the group - Ascension Modules, Jetpacks, and camouflage cloaks for every member of the team, along with at least one spare fuel cell for each pack, if possible. This she directs immediately to the LAAT on Captain Ralen's authority, flashing her RIS credentials if necessary to expedite the process.
Without saying much to anyone, she then hastens to the LAAT's docking slip, and waits patiently for the tactical crate full of the items to appear, as if by magic. If she's timed it right, they should arrive just as she's chatting up the pilot of the LAAT, discussing Hyperspace performance variables and whether or not it's desirable to maintenance cycle a ship's artificial gravity generator while in hyperspace or real space.
Once the gear and the team are stored, she eagerly climbs into her flight suit, stows her personal gear, and straps in, grinning.
Myralda heads to the transport once she sees that supplies are taken care of. Strapping in early, Myralda relaxes herself and silently recites the Code.
Emotion, yet peace.
Ignorance, yet knowledge.
Passion, yet serenity.
Chaos, yet harmony.
Death, yet the Force.
Myralda repeats the last line to herself as she waits for the rest, half-listening as Rima speaks to the pilot.
Breaker salutes as the briefing ends, before leaving with Holliday and Spook. He turns his head as the group separates and says, "So, what are your thoughts on this mission? Think we should acquire some stun grenades to capture the Seperstost commander?"
Spook nods. "I don't doubt the Jedi can take care of it, but it doesn't hurt to prepare. Usually, it hurts not to." 46, the others know, is a very firm believer in one of the clones' core tenets: Take care of your equipment, and your equipment will take care of you. It's the reason that even though this mission will be in an urban environment on a gas giant, Spook will be bringing along a field kit for wilderness survival. Ever since being stranded planetside, he's had a touch of preparation paranoia--wanting to be ready for anything.
"Jet packs and ascension modules aren't a bad idea, either. I didn't realize we'd be having RIS on the mission. She raised some good points, though."
BX-F1 only pays passing attention to the clones as they head down to the armory. He collects a jetpack and spare fuel cells and two replacement spools of cord for his internal grappling systems. An ascension gun can be dropped, but a hook built in to his arm isn't going anywhere unless he's disassembled. He then heads down to the hanger and begins to run a full systems diagnostic as he takes a seat in their craft to await departure.
"I probably won't pick any up, but these switch to stun easy enough," Holliday says, patting his twin pistols. "As for my thoughts? It seems pretty cut and dry, but we all know things never work out that way in the long run. I'd prefer to have numbers on the scrap heaps, too, but I can do my best to get that when we're in the field." Holliday shrugs, casting a look at his fellows. "Still, not a bad group all things considered. I'm unsure about the droid, but if enough people haven't been bothered by it that we've got it along for the mission, I'm not too concerned."
Once everyone gathers any extra equipment, and finishes any other last minute preparations, you all board the LAAT/s. Once on board you store your gear and strap in to your seats. Moments later the other troopers and commandos board and take their seats. The intercom crackles to life Welcome aboard the Sneaky Wesel, or per official rolls the Atticus. We will be taking a nice leisurely cruise to gas filled Bespin. Flight time is going to be about 8 hours. Sit back, relax, and there will be no drink service during this flight.
The intercom goes silent and the ship lifts off and leaves the ship. Once the LAAT/s is far enough from the battlegroup the ship goes into hyperspace. The hours tick by, and everyone feels the time go by differently – some quickly, others not. After about 7.5 hours everyone starts to get a little edgy knowing that the time for action is close at hand.
After about ten more minutes you here some noises coming from the cockpit, and not normal noises. Suddenly the ship shakes violently and the door to the cockpit flies. The door flies and smashes into some of the troopers, pulping them. After the door flies out you can see into the cockpit. The controls are shattered and you see both the pilot and co-pilot dead, but there is also a dead droid – it looks like a Separatist buzz droid.
Just as you start to unbuckle yourself several of the commandos and troopers run past you towards the cockpit. The ship violently lurches and you can see into the cockpit window. The ship flies out of hyperspace and the window is filled with a white planet. The ship starts spinning and flies into the atmosphere of the planet. The gee forces keep you forced into your seat, while the troopers and commandos that were running to the cockpit are thrown all over the ship – and there are what sounds like some bones breaking. The last thing you see is what looks like snow as the ship slams into the ground and everything goes dark . . . .
At some point later you wake up in the ship and see your companions still strapped into their seats, but others are in various degrees of dead – some have parts of the ship through them. You are extremely cold, more so than you should be even in your armor (for those who have it).
BX-F1 doesn't acknowledge the pilot as he enters the ship beyond a short nod. "If this is organic humor, I fail to see the benefits." He continues his system's check begins a weapon check, going over his guns and checking the edge of his heavy, curved vibroblade. If he had lips, he would be smiling. The hum of an efficient, well made tool of war was always a comforting sound. Eventually running out of systems to check, he enters a rest cycle, setting himself to maximum alert and sitting back in his seat and passively observing the others around him.
He lurches to full functionality in an instant as the ship shakes, his combat systems coming online. "Pistoeka Units. We have been detected." He goes for his blaster, but the ship rocks and slams him back in his seat before he can react. His vision goes fuzzy for a moment as his cranial unit smashes against a wall and he shakes his head to realign his visual input circuits. Then there's a second impact. "Processer damaged. Entering reboot cycle. Duration: unknown." A rattling metallic groan echoes from his vocabulator. "Not again." Then the light in his eyes flickers out.
His system slowly reboots, running an immediate check for his most crucial systems. "All vital processes intact. I still function." He unstraps himself from the seat and staggers to his feet, his servos whining in protest as he tries to move before his systems are fully booted. While a machine does not feel cold, he registers the abnormally low temperature. "Something has gone wrong. Do you all still function?"
Myralda is calming herself through meditation when she first feels the life begin to fade. Her eyes snap open as the ship shakes violently. Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
The next few moments fly by quickly for her as she begins to see the an almost replay of the situation that stole her master from her. Her body enters into a cold sweat as the death count increases.
No, not now, not my men, Myralda thinks, trying to unstrap herself. The violent crash stops her attempts as her vision fades out.
...Where...where am I? Myralda wonders, feeling hurt all over as she comes to.
The crash! Myralda darts up, only for the restraints that had kept her safe to stop her. Drawing her lightsaber, she slashes through them quickly and jumps up. The hum of her yellow lightsaber is the only sound for a moment, until the droid's systems begin to whirl.
"I am alright, but I fear most did not make it," Myralda says slowly in response to the droid's question.
Slowly and methodically, Myralda checks each trooper, searching for any traces of life. She shivers, but doesn't know if its from the cold temperature or all the death surrounding her. Pulling her robe closer to her body, Myralda continues, mentally repeating the Code to herself as a calming method, not completely trusting herself to be fully in control at the moment.
"Function is a strong word, but I think we're all moving." Holliday stands, brushing himself off as he checks to make sure his teammates are all still alive and breathing. "I'm gonna fly up, take a look around and see what I can find. Spook, the Jedi seems alright, but make sure the Zeltron's unharmed and ready to move; we've still got a job to do." Automatically assuming his fellow ARCs are ready to move--they'd been through worse before--before nodding to the Jedi. "Don't bother, they're dead. Some of us will be too, if we don't get out of this freezing cold..." As Holliday finishes speaking he takes a moment to fire up his jet pack, rocketing forth from the broken transport until he's around 200 feet up. Once there, he hovers and looks around with his integrated binoculars, scanning for anything that might be useful.
Rima's mind reels at the sight of the buzz-droid.
"How did the droid hit us in Hyperspace?!" she marvels. It must have been hidden somewhere on the Solidarity waiting for the moment to strike.
Just as she's about to jump from her seat toward the cockpit, the ship lurches and the planet looms in the distance. Slapping the emergency seals on her flight suit and helmet, she curls into crash position.
Coming to after the crash, her first step is checking the environment gauges on her flight suit. Rima spits out a curse.
"Frigid hell," she hisses. "Ice planet. I hate ice planets."
Seeing that the droid, the Jedi, and apparently the rest of her team are alive and (reasonably) whole, Rima immediately tries to check the communications and flight systems of the LAAT.
"We have to be on Hoth," she says to no one in particular. "Not a good place to be after dark. Anyone have any ideas how that thing hit us in Hyperspace?"
"This is a logical assumption, but further confirmation is required to ascertain our location definitively." BX-F1 tests his joints. "That would require us to have been knocked out of hyperspace by a significant distance. This was a planned act of sabotage. Either they were planning to sabotage the cruiser for a long time, or they were aware of the plan of attack and decided to intercept us ahead of time." BX falls silent. "A spy within the Republic? A traitor perhaps. An odd coincidence."
[spoiler=Myralda]Looking over everyone on the ship the only people alive seems to be your team - no commandos or troopers. As a mater of fact, when you remove a few helmets the bodies are all frozen solid.
When Holliday manages to get a door open a strong frigid wind blows in, as well as snow.
Myralda gently touches the skin of one trooper, just to verify what she feels in the Force. Frozen? It couldn't have been that cold in their armor, could it? How long were we out, and how did we survive?
Myralda winces as the frigid air blows in with the snow. Myralda was sure there was no snow on the gas giant Bespin. Where were they? "Rima. How's the ship's condition? Is anything operating?" Myralda asks, pulling her hood over her head. "Communications, coordinates, or emergency power?"
As she talks, she checks the ship for any of the stored supplies to see if any of it made it through. Anything, really, to get her mind away from...well...
Having acquired their equipment, Breaker sits and ensures his weapons are functional. He then takes a nap, a veteran of enough combat to know that one should rest whenever able. On their approach, and hearing the commotion in the cockpit, he awakes and looks in that direction. Once the door broke, Breaker's armor immediately sealed itself against vacuum - although if he flew out of the ship in hyperspace, the seals might be irrelevant. The momentum of the crash and the heat of the atmosphere causes them to slam into the ground, bringing blackness to the ARC Trooper.
Coming to, the ARC Trooper looks around. "Funny. I thought Bespin was a gas giant," Breaker says, getting up out of his crash harness. Seeing the other clones dead around him, he shakes his head. "Would have been better to go down in battle, but it doesn't look like they suffered. We'll mourn later. Holliday, any sign of the Seps?"
Breaker takes off his pack and pulls out his all-temperature cloak, throwing it around his shoulders to hold off the frigid air. He checked to make sure his equipment hadn't been damaged. He wasn't worried about the cold affecting his rifle. He'd modified it to be able to handle any environmental issues. Always best to have a reliable blaster.
Spook has a pre-combat process that combines elements from Breaker and, ironically, BX-F1. First he systematically goes through all of his equipment, stripping and cleaning his blasters and double-checking all of his other gear as well. When everything is fully in order, he stows it back to readiness and leans back, ready to doze before the mission. Rest is important, and taking care of your equipment comes second only to taking care of yourself.
When things go haywire, Spook wakes up along with the others and instantly secures himself in place. When the other troopers get up, he tries calling to them--"Strap in, you idiots!"--but it's too late, and he can only watch as more and more of the team is killed in mere moments, his clone brothers, different as they may be, suffering an ignominious death in the midst of space. He's far from losing his head, though: now it's his job to make sure someone's alive to mourn their loss. So thinking, he stays strapped in and breathes steadily as the ship spirals out of control and smashes into the frozen white planet.
46 doesn't come to until some of the others do, but once movement starts he snaps to quickly. He nods at Holliday's comment and checks on Rima first--she seems fine given her quick commenting--and he double-checks the troopers, unsurprised to find them dead to a man, although the amount of freezing is curious. It's grim, but there is still a job to do--even if that job is simply surviving.
The ARC moves to the opening, his rifle in hand, and he brings his free hand up as the snow and wind blusters in. He quickly grabs his field kit from the storage under his seat and pulls out the cloak inside. "This slag is why I pack for anything," he grumbles, glancing over at the outside. "They say you're going to Bespin, so why bring a field kit? But then you end up stuck on a damn frozen rock, and you're glad you thought to bring a sunshield and rations." He slings the pack over his back, along with his medical kit and other equipment, but he leaves the jetpack--with such limited fuel, it's nothing but extra bulk.
"Fifty-one," he says, opening up his helmet's internal commlink once Breaker's done the same. "Give us a general sitrep too, and tell me you can see something other than snow."
"This garbage pod's not going anywhere without a complete overhaul and reseal," Rima tells the group. She pokes and prods at several controls, trying to get a solid readout. "I'm trying to figure out how long we've been down and out. Anyone else have a chronometer?"
Rima mutters under her breath as she attempts to get the onboard computer to tell her how long they've been crashed here. It hasn't been minutes. Hours? Days?
"Anyone good with communications equipment? This planet's rife with pirates. Maybe we can snoop their transmissions to give ourselves a warning if they head this way."
"I am reasonably capable in the use of most military technology. But there is only so much that I can do." BX-F1 walks over to examine the shipboard computer to see if any of the systems on the craft still function enough for him to use, but he's doubtful.