Dancing in The ISB: First Contact

[Tonktastic]

An empty sector devoid of life and traffic on the edge of wildspace, near the Southern rim of the galaxy, due South of Ryloth.

This region, left empty and desolate, had seen little or no interference going back as far as anyone could remember, remaining largely unmapped and ventured into only by the bravest or most desperate. Yet, the first recent visitors proved to be neither:

ZAP ZAP




Echoed through the void as two small vessels returned to realspace in formation, their red striped and grey camouflaged hulls reflecting light from several local stars and a distant nebula that filled the sector with an eerie green mist. The debtors hook they called it. A getaway for lowlives and brigands prowling across the stars seeking escape from the law. It also happened to resemble a pronged claw from a distance.

But the two vessels were neither criminals, nor were they hiding, the dishes above their superstructures pinging across the void as they rotated in place, trying to pick up a signal.

The K-13 and K-14 moved rapidly, searching for any signs of activity, doing their part to ensure Kopperian space wouldn't be infringed without retaliation. After the destruction of the KIF mochalivi, the ISB began conducting wide sweeping patrols across more and more sectors. Their K-Class patrol craft on the lookout for the very individuals who often used this very sector as a getaway.

On the bridge of the K-13 stood Inspector Natasha Kirillova Alexandrova of the ISB, dutifully watching over the shoulder of the Worker Drone operating the vessel's scanner.

"Anything?" She asked for the fifteenth time in the past half an hour.

The Sergeant wanted to roll his eyes, but instead turned away, pretending like he was hearing something on the monitor before shaking his head. "Nothing, Your Excellency." He replied.

Natasha sighed before turning away and clapping her hands behind her back. "Very well. Inform me when we find something." The Sergeant nodded as Natasha walked over to her chair before pulling out a mug and marched over to the oil dispenser, her tail subtly wagging from side to side as she filled the cup. Once full, the Inspector returned to her chair, placed it in the cup holder before jumping into the plush leather seat. Her tail lazily draped over the side as she sipped her drink, sighing in relief. The heat from her anticipation gently cooling thanks to the thick black crude. "Why did this have to be so boring? At least the training period had more for me to do then this." She lamented with a sigh, unaware of just what she had asked for.

 

[James 'Slinger' Antilles]

Slinger was hiding out. It wasn’t particularly important of the why. Look it wasn’t his fault! Some pirates hired him to smuggle medical supplies past warzone boundaries. Made sense there were plenty of places in the galaxy, plenty of planets, moons, stations which needed supplies. It seemed like a quick, easy and righteous job.

How was he supposed to know the pirates had gotten it by hitting a medical frigate?

Next thing you know the tracking device the authorities had put on the crates had meant he was being swooped on by an entire corvette worth of patrol craft. It was the pirates fault not his.

Stupid pirates not checking the crates for tracking devices.

The fact that Slinger should have done so himself was a scathing self reply.

Well they shouldn’t be hitting medical frigates anyway!

Oh now you mention your concern for the noble citizens of the republic.

It was a typical sarcastic self reply that did nothing to improve Slinger’s mood.

Slinger had barely escaped the patrol craft. Then feeling guilty about the medicine he had tried to return it. The ungrateful republic had still tried to seize his ship! So Slinger had ‘given’ the medicine back by dumping it out the airlock while he made his escape.

The pirates naturally hadn’t been happy about that.

Now he was on the hot list for both republic and pirate. Slinger knew he’d just have to bide his time with both. The pirates would soon have other enemies to deal with as for the republic. Give it enough time and they’d offer him a life risking job to make up for the snafu.

So here James was hiding out, waiting for things to cool down. Or more accurately searching for a place to wait it out. This was just a temporary spot. What James really needed was another job to keep him on the move. Constantly going from one system to another was the best way to stay ahead of anyone after you.

Stay in one place for too long and sooner or later someone would track you down. Whether it be a bounty hunter or a sith inquisitor or republic intelligence.

Right at this moment Slinger was lounging about listening to Corellian Country music. He got an alert that woke him up.

“Patrol craft poodoo” James cursed. He didn't recognise what kind.

He had his stealth mode such as it was on, which basically meant turning off everything but the air. He waited to see if they would sense him.

 

[Natasha Alexandrova]

Natasha slowly savored her cup as she remained seated, the Sergeant sighing as he observed the monitor while piloting the K-13 forward while K-14 slowly split off to perform their search.

Yet, as they maneuvered around a giant rock of a moon, a small dot appeared on the radar. A dot he knew wasn't there before. He knew this because he knew what was there, and what wasn't from memory. So it must have been a new contact despite its tiny signature. "Inspector, we have a new contact." He said, loud enough for her to hear before closing his eyes in preparation for:

"NEW CONTACT!" Natasha exclaimed, excitedly leaping out of her seat... "OW!" And stinging herself in the hand as her tail shot up and poked right through, burning a hole as she howled in pain and pulled the head out. Exhaling rapidly, she stuck the hand in her mouth, removing the pain almost instantly before sighing in relief and using her other hand to firmly tuck the tail behind her back. After regaining her composure, she walked toward the console as though nothing happened. The hand regenerating as she did. "So. We have a new contact?"

The Sergeant nodded. "Yes, here." He said, pointing at the dot.

Natasha put her hand to her chin. "Can you lock onto it?" She inquired to which he nodded. "Very well. Then lock it and open the comm channel. Let's see if we can't do this diplomatically." She stated before clearing her throat:

"Это инспектор Наташа Кириллова Александрова из Имперской службы безопасности, обращаюсь к неопознанному судну. Представьтесь и изложите свои намерения."
(This is Inspector Natasha Kirillova Aleksandrova of the Imperial Security Service, addressing the unidentified vessel. Please identify yourself and state your intentions.)

 

[Roach]

Roach's last failed undertaking in the Obsidian Court's Space left him short on credits, and now, most of his contacts lie cold beneath Darth Malvus's blade. Roach was scavenging the galaxy for opportunities and rest. He needed something to get him back on his feet.

"Just a small victory."

Bounty hunting was something that felt easy and at home to Roach; he had killed and hunted for the Court. It had, however, been a couple of months since his last paycheck, and Roach was getting desperate, tracking increasingly demanding targets for their higher bounty rewards. His latest: James Antilles, aka Slinger. A very, very tricky bounty indeed.

"Finally."

A tracer that compromised his whereabouts. His eyes and ears promised him this would be the best chance at Slinger anyone could get; of course, they were overselling it, but the trooper needed the creds. Thats how Roach found himself in this barren part of space, determined to return home soon and get paid.

The old Fury Class, which Roach was currently commandeering, had little to nothing in stealth technology; it was built for sustained heavy combat and suppression of enemy forces. He plans to fire everything he has; he might be outmanoeuvred, but he will not be outgunned. Roach was never a good pilot nor was he good at making plans, but he was good at destruction and thats all he planned on bringing.

@Natasha Alexandrova @James 'Slinger' Antilles

 

[Irina Alexandrova]

Senior Lieutenant Irina Nikolaievna Alexandrova slowly paced back and forth on the K-14's bridge, quietly reciting a line while her Sergeant manned his station. Purposely ignoring her, when suddenly- "Your Excellency, contact bearing 111° right, 45° low! Distance: 120 kilometers!" He called after a large contact appeared on radar.

Irina smirked while holding her tail behind her back as the head steadily shook back and forth, maintaining her rigid posture. "Open the comm channel. We aren't here to fight. After all, why make enemies when you can have adversaries." She said confidently, only to pause, stroking her chin in thought. "Or was it... colleagues?"

The worker drone at the console shook his head, having grown used to his commander's... excentricities. Nevertheless, he did as commanded, opening the comm channel. "All yours, Senior Lieutenant." He replied with a deadpan, knowing exactly what was going to happen next.

Irina took a deep breath, quieting her nerves and putting on the best corporate smile she could:

"Здравствуйте. Это старший лейтенант Ирина Александрова из ИСБ. Боюсь, это зона ограниченного доступа, и мне придётся немедленно попросить вас представиться."
(Hello. This is Senior Lieutenant Irina Alexandrova of the ISB. I'm afraid this is a restricted area, and I'll have to ask you to identify yourself immediately.)



She stated with practiced ease, going so far as to gesture as she spoke, despite no one watching. But, once she finished, the nerves came again. Had she done it right? Did she make a mistake? She abruptly turned to regard her colleague, and walked over before taking the empty seat beside him and sliding it over. "Well, how was that? Pretty impressive, hm?"

The Sergeant narrowed his eyes. "Your Excellency. I am trying to work." He replied. Causing her to pout in disappointment.

 

[Natasha Alexandrova]

While waiting for a response from the unidentified contact, another, much larger one suddenly appeared on the scanner. "Inspector, we have a new contact. Bearing 167° Right, 12° Up. Range, 143 kilometers." Said the Sergeant as Natasha nodded, leaning to closer examine the screen. K-14 was 20 kilometers closer.

"I see..." Natasha replied while pondering her actions. Considering the situation, this "ghost contact" could have potentially been dangerous, but the larger contact took president. Luckily, there was an easy solution. "If the contact fails to respond, send some missiles it's way to see if it ticks. If not, form us up with K-14."

"As you command." The Sergeant replied before leaning over the intercom. "All crew to battle stations. All crew to battle stations." He relayed as Natasha remained in place.

"Excellent." She began. "Now send a message to K-14. They are not to engage until we arrive to assist, should the contact prove hostile." She explained.

"Affirmative." The Sergeant verbally saluted before doing as instructed and sending a typed message.

 

[James 'Slinger' Antilles]

Slinger cursed again once the other ship picked up on his position. They hailed his ship the Silver Sparrow, only Slinger couldn’t understand a word of it, he ran the language through the ship’s computer. Nothing came up error. The language wasn’t on any known database.

What the hell was he supposed to do with that?

Unknown language likely meant either isolationists or a people that just hadn’t interacted with the wider galaxy on any significant level. Isolationists could be tricky. Some would shoot you down for even laying eyes on them. The latter… could be worked with albeit they were also unpredictable their reactions could be shooting you on sight for being a monster they’d never seen before all the way to worshipping you as a god. James’s headache meant he didn’t particularly want to deal with either reactionary response.

“Frak it.” James said and answered the hail. “This is Captain James Slinger Antilles of the ship the Silver Sparrow.”

“Just passing through. I’ll be on my way no need for trouble.” James tried knowing it was probably in vain.

Patrol craft meant military or law enforcement, both of which meant procedure would be followed to a t. If anything they’d be more likely to break procedure to blow him up. Unless their orders were to let ships off with a warning and watch them slide on bye.

James grunted in gallows humour at the likelihood of that. With the way his luck had been running lately not likely at all.

James was so busy keeping an ey on the unknown patrol craft, that he almost missed the Fury class interceptor.

Well at least it was a familiar vessel.

That was not as much of a comfort as he might try to tell himself. James scanned the Fury. Rigged out for heavy armament built for combat. Great.

What the hell, worth a shot.

James hailed the Fury as well.

“Look there’s an incoming unknown patrol, if your Sith can you try to abstain from the blood and slaughter long enough for peaceful relations. At least until we both get out of here?”

 

[Natasha Alexandrova]

Suddenly, just as Natasha's patience was beginning to run thin, the reply finally came:

“This is Captain James Slinger Antilles of the ship the Silver Sparrow.
Just passing through. I’ll be on my way no need for trouble.”

She blinked, surprised at the use of Kordish. But nevertheless recalled the message spread throughout both the fleet and ISB prior to the Major General's departure: They weren't here.

Getting back to the message itself, while one might see it as a good sign, the Inspector knew something was off the moment the man on the other end started speaking: His voice smooth, slick. The kind that quietly thought themselves smarter than everyone else while looking dumb: A professional criminal. Only, she didn't know what kind. However, considering the attempted use of stealth prior to replying, that only served to narrow it down. Either a pirate scout waiting in ambush, or a trafficker of illegal goods waiting for a customer.

With a light smirk she again opened the Comm channel:

"Very good, Kaptan. Vut, konsidering you likely didn't understand, I am Inspector Natasha Nikolaievna Alexandrova of ISB. Kommander of patrol ship, K-13. In service of Kopperia."

She replied in lightly accented basic before nodding to the Sergeant, who pushed the ship into gear. Steadily making it's way over. Meanwhile, she concluded her statement:

"I am afraid I kannot allow you leave yet. Prepare to be scanned."

 

[Roach]

Two signatures were being read, both from unknown ships. Yet the reason he found himself in this desolate part of space, Slinger, was nowhere to be found. His tracker was dumped with the rest of the cargo he stole. Unlucky Roach.

The dathomirian barley had any time to react before a ping came up, followed by a message from one of the signatures, the closer one. They spoke in a foreign language he had never encountered before, one that was unknown in the systems.

"React."

An unknown was always chaos, and chaos had to be put down. That was 1808's doctrine, the doctrine of his empire. But Roach follows a new one.

"This is Sergeant 1808 of the Obsidian Court. I am here on the court's business to retrieve a rogue asset. Stay back and do not intervene. Fail to comply and be faced with the emperor's justice."

His tone was sharp and deliberate, no hesitation, only follow through as he spoke. Roach was hoping these aliens would believe the Lie and back down, the presence of the Obsidian Court was always one that inspired compliance. He kept his course straight, not showing any signs of slowing down. A second ping came up, lucky Roach.

Having Slinger think of Roach as a sith could have its advantages. Did he even know the dathomirian was here to claim his bounty. There was no time to think about it more; he had to respond, to get ready for what was to come. For now, he would agree with Slinger, not revealing to either side who he was or what he was capable of.

"Roger that, send through further instructions, and I will follow your lead."

Roach spoke with blunt efficiency. Only later did he realise his words bore none of the weight or tone of a Sith.

@James 'Slinger' Antilles @Tonktastic

 

[Irina Alexandrova]

The Senior Lieutenant had remained seated since the Sergeant shot her down, only to pause in her childish pouting when the a new contact appeared on the scanner. Followed by the emitter on the console beeping, and a message appeared:

"K-13 to K-14. Made contact with one: Captain James Slinger Antilles.
Suspected to be a Pirate or Smuggler. Contact attempted to remain hidden until pinged. Do not engage large contact until we join you.
Order of Natasha N. Alexandrova, Inspector."

Irina prepared to respond, only to pause as a verbal response finally sounded from her contact.

"This is Sergeant 1808 of the Obsidian Court. I am here on the court's business to retrieve a rogue asset. Stay back and do not intervene. Fail to comply and be faced with the emperor's justice."

Irina cooked her brow in confusion. Obsidian Court? Emperor? A serial number? Sure, she knew of an Emperor, but this man spoke Kordish, and his tone was anything but inviting. If it even was a man given how he referred to himself as "1808".

Sure, the ISB drone doubted the Admiral would want another conflict on their hands if he was telling the truth. Which, as he training had made clear, wasn't a guarantee, especially in the Void. However, considering his mention of a "rogue asset" he was sent to retrieve, perhaps there was something the ISB could get out of this. Even as his ship kept its speed, heading straight for her.

"Sergeant, order all crews to battlestations." She commanded before standing up.

"All hands to battlestations. All hands to battlestations." He stated before again turning to his Commander.

"Very good. Now ping 1808 again." Irina replied before clearing her throat to recompose herself.

"I apologize for the misunderstanding, Sergeant. I am Senior Lieutenant Irina Alexandrova of the ISB."

She stated in Kordish before smiling, again adopting her curated demeanor.

"Since you've already identified yourself and stated your intentions. I was curious if you would appreciate help in your Search? Not for any form of reward. But to ensure you return to where you came from safe and sound with your prize. A good deal, no?"
@Roach