(Earlier, cockpit)
OOC:
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With Possum's permission, Sirona's earlier reply is now actually:
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"That's... actually not a bad idea," admits Sirona.
"Yes, I think it can actually be done. No guarantee on how long the turnaround will be on that message though. Could be a couple of *days*..."
"Still better than nawthing, sra -- marbling better! Frek, let's daw it right naw. Bawrraw your chair?" Assuming she agrees, Sloor sits down in the dark command chair, positions his datapad in a strategic location on the console and presses the holo-record button:
[sblock=Sloor's Message]
"You knaw who I am. I'm hawping you're who I want you taw be awr we're in wawrst trawble than I thawght. Missian's gawing gawd: we're Darga's new best mercenary palls and we've learned three things fawr sure saw far. Awne, the imperials have a huge slave-kidnapping and fawrced labawr awperatian in play. Dan't knaw what they're warking awn yet, but the slaves are all nan-human dissidents and pawtential pawlitical 'trawble makers'. Taw, Darga's piece awf the prawject is taw sell Tibanna gas taw them awn the quiet side, in exchange fawr what's left awf the imperial's used-up slaves, *plus* sawme creds awn the side. Darga's gas is shipped awt awf a whawlly-awned refinery he has up awn Bespin. Three, the imperial negawtiatawr they sent awver here happened taw be awne Victra Sind, a black-awps awperatives warking variaws jawbs in this quarter. We knew here fraw befawre, saw we snapped her up after the meeting and are presently hawlding her lawcked up tight in the hawld. We're planning taw bring her taw you fawr further debriefing. Lastly, we've alsaw lawcated taw jedi frawzen in carbawnite dawn in Darga's dungeons. Seems like the spirks've been there since befawre the war began!
"Saw the questians we have fawr you are: Daw we send you Victra right naw, priawrity cawrrier? Unless you send a ship taw pick her up, that'd leave us stranded for four days, but it can be dawne. Secand: What kind awf bawnus are we talking abawt if we bring you *taw* brand new jedi recruits? And, mawst impawrtantly: daw we continue pushing the search fawr the prawject through Darga, awr shawld we head straight fawr Bespin?
"My view is that we've gawt a lawt awf good will awn Darga's side, which might be frecsing helpful fawr any further awp in the regians. And since he *awns* awer frecsing next target... It'd sawrt awf be a shame taw waste that. Sawme awf my- cawlleagues disagree, think we should drawp Darga like a live detawnatawr and head straight fawr Bespin withawt an invite." What was it those holofilm action hunks always concluded these things with? Oh yeah:
"Please advice." The image shows him reaching out and cutting the recording.[/sblock]
"Haw was that?"
<Response Okeefe?>
"I'll talk taw Mack abawt maybe setting sawmething simpler up next time we head awt." Assuming they make it out of this one, of course! Secrecy is all well and good, but information is life and all that sort of thing.
"Well, better get back to it. Thanks sra."
He's almost through the door, but, now that he thinks of it:
"Haven't seen the Mizza girl arawnd since I gawt back; she alright?" With all the previous talk about over-eating...
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Edited based on the info Possum provided in this post.
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"Yeah," shrugs Sirona with a half amused, half rueful shrug.
"She definitively overate though: in the small medbay with a dreadful stomach ache. She's all right other than that, though."
"Figured it was sawmething like that," grins Sloor, reassured.
"Keep up the gawd wawrk, sra." A couple of friendly if resounding taps on the Banshee's metallic hull and then he's off down the corridor, towards the mess hall.
Is that where TB got to? With the Mizza girl? Those med progs must be affecting it's thinking... A sudden, inner smirk: unless it's cataloguing the 'inefficiencies of the organic energy conversion systems' or something...? Banshee's becoming a real Rebellion outpost, with its own frecsing donjon, a growing rebellion cell cum slave outreach program, maybe even a frecsing jedi temple sometimes soon (powers preserve them)... Wonder how long that can last.
And then his momentary good mood progressively darkens as what's coming next starts looming: that frekking interrogation Mack's so hot about! (Well, with any luck the SWAT man has already... Given up? Gotten what they need? Frek, doesn't sound too likely either way, does it? (No offense to Mack) No, if they want to get anything without actually...)
Up ahead Mir is saying to Darius:
"We could always revive those in the carbonite. Two people move much easier than attempting to move two such encasements, even if they are not able to do much. As long as they can move, there is that advantage. Perhaps then the Imperials that are returning are only taking back defective slaves and not more precious cargo."
Still on the carbsicle rescue, uh? Sloor comes in and quickly summarises his results for them.
"I guess we continue on our own initiative for now, then," says Darius with a shrug at the captain's response.
"Guess we daw," agrees Sloor...
"Guess it's also time to see what Mack's been doing during all this," he reluctantly continues. Guess they *should* leave the message-checking/message-sending for afterwards, in case they do learn something *major* out of the agent. He heads to the cargo hold where they stashed the stunned ones (and one very dead one, unfortunately).
"I'll wait here... thanks," Mir says as the others make their way to interrogate the negotiator.
[Scene link]
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Just to be clear, when speaking of "delayed packet", Sloor was talking about sending them a recorded message that would be passed on to the Resurgence via Organa (or a pre-agreed drop-box location), possibly days later. Not some sort of time-delayed real-time conversation or anything... Does that change Sirona's answer in any way?
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(Now, Mess Hall)
Leaving behind a confused besalisk.
Who blinks a few times and then follows, out the door and down the corridor:
"What daw you mean: 'nawt the awne leaving'? *You're* the awne who suddenly mentiawned parting ways awt awf the blue!" Right? He didn't imagine that, did he? So that last bit was- a challenge???
<Response Mir?>
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I'm imagining this bit as they're walking down the corridor, Mir in front.
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