Ask Don't Be So (Hal)Mad

[Cipher Eight]

.

Despite the years of experience attached to his resume, Eight had to admit - his line of work never failed to present a variety of new and ever-changing scenarios to keep the agent on his toes. Torrential torrents of rain fell over the jungles of Halmad - flooding the landscape and bringing visibility to an all-time low. Lightning streaked across the evening sky, followed by the clap of thunder, booming not far behind. It was one of the worst storms in a decade to sweep across the jungles, and it kept the majority of citizens and even military personnel confined to the cities and population centers of the planet.

Which was precisely why ISB had chosen that moment to infiltrate the planet.

After Imperial withdrawal from the sector, Halmad had quickly moved towards self-determination. Elections were held and the Federal Council appointed to lead them, without declaring loyalty to any single government. It was much the same story across the region, across multiple planets that the Empire largely was willing to let leave if they so chose. Halmad, however, held significantly more value. It’s position along the Braxant Run - trade center for multiple hyperroutes - made the planet far too valuable to truly abandon. It meant that the ISB had never quite taken their eyes off the planet, keeping close tabs on the political situation.

While many embraced their newfound independence, some had taken Imperial withdrawal poorly. Angered by the sudden dip in their economy and services provided by the Empire, there were those dissatisfied by the new government. Outer Rim citizens, enflamed by the loss of their amenities and services that a larger government like the Empire could provide. It was enough motivation for thousands to take up arms across the planet, forming militias that fought across the surface. Despite their numbers, most had separated into independent cells and pockets of resistance - too disorganized to pose any real threat to the government.

ISB hoped to bridge that divide.

Imperial shuttles had dropped Eight deep in the jungle - close to a rendezvous point where he was scheduled to meet with an IAF Lieutenant. While he typically worked alone on cases like this, thee was a level of military and combat experience that the Cipher simply didn’t possess - and bringing on a seasoned combat veteran had the potential to be beneficial to the overall operation. And so he marched along - the boots of his Imperial Uniform sinking into the saturated earth. The rendevous point was only just ahead, and from there began the journey to actually locate the cells of resistance.

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

So far, Halmad absolutely sucked.

Max could not remember the last time he faced this kind of weather. Rain fell on the jungle by the bucketload, hour after hour. Pretty much everything was pissing wet and yet the rain kept coming. The thick clouds in the sky billowed and flashed, the heart of the storm moving southwards the only consolation. At least he could hear himself think now, even if the damp haze still lingered all around.

The Lieutenant was waiting to meet his ISB contact. He would normally have set up an OP on the ground, under cover and camouflaged in the brush, but the earth was completely sodden. Instead, Max had hauled his big frame up into a tree. He crouched patiently between two massive boughs, his leather boots creaking as he sheltered from the rain.

As with many missions in the new Empire, Max had swapped heavy plate for a set of more comfortable assault corps armour and he wore his black IDF beret over his short blonde back and sides. He had brought his helmet in his pack, but for now he was glad of the chance to breathe in the jungle air, hazel eyes watching the perimeter. It had been too long since he had been properly in the field.

The clearing below was an ideal meeting point, far enough away from any population centres. Soon enough, Max glimpsed movement at the far side and a young man step into view.

Max jumped down from his vantage point, his companion's uniform and bearing almost certainly Imperial. The Lieutenant beckoned him over beneath the canopy where they could talk under shelter.

"Lieutenant Max Dram" he introduced himself and offered the agent a hand. The guy was short and slight, with brown eyes and brown hair, the latter slick with rain. Max had spent a lot of time working with women of late. This was going to be a refreshing change. "Tell me you have some intel on this damn rain".

@Altaris

 

[Cipher Eight]

Eight couldn’t really deny it - the weather on Halmad was absolutely atrocious. His hair was soaked and matted down to his face within minutes, and every gust of wind sent sheets of rainwater that battered his eyes and made it impossible to see more than ten feet ahead of it. It was only due to the undersuit he wore that the Cipher Agent wasn’t soaked down to his boxers, but even that didn’t pretend his boots from sinking into the mud with every step across the landscape.

Working with ISB, Eight had been trained to fight and operate in every variety of environment and climate. But it didn’t make the job any more pleasant. He glanced down at the tracker attached to his commlink - guiding him through the jungle and towards the rendezvous point.

His fingers hovered close to the pistol tucked into his holster, ever alert as he stepped into the clearing. Within seconds, Eight caught a glimpse of the figure that dropped from the treeline like a giant Monkey-Lizard. Fortunately, the recognizable Imperial uniform and general description matching a certain ‘Lieutenant Dram’ was enough to keep the Agent from reaching for his pistol. Instead, that came hand extended to shake Max’s own once they stepped under the canopy.

“Eight,” He said in introduction. Max would immediately recognize the code name that was used by many within the ISB, keeping their real names and identifies classified information. He had been ‘Eight’ for years at this point, and almost everyone who knew his face only recognized him by that name. "Pleasure to meet you, Lieutenant."

He brought a hand up to brush some of the hair off his forehead, finger-combing it back into place. The Agent briefly allowed his gaze to hang on Max for a moment or two - lingering on his fine features and the light stubble that covered his face. “Storm isn’t scheduled to pass for another four days. Severe Flood Advisories are in effect for this entire region, and local authorities are advising residents to stock up on supplies until conditions improve.” He said, listing off some of the communications and intel he’d picked up from local channels on the planet. In other words, they were both going to need to get used to the damned rain.

“Still isn’t as bad as Agamar.” He commented with a small shrug.

“Any signs of activity from our locals?” He asked. The resistance groups were especially active within the jungle and wild regions of Halmad - which was likely where the two of them would need to scout in order to make contact.

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

"Eight" Max repeated, nodding like he believed it even though his faint smile would give him away. "I must start making notes on all you guys. Is there a prize for meeting the whole set?". It was an amusing thought, even if Max was fairly certain the ISB made damn sure no one person saw all their agents' faces.

Eight's face was pretty nice as it happened, even if the guy did look like he was just out of school and a strong breeze would blow him over. He reeled off the local picture without checking a pad though and seemed surprisingly self-assured for someone so young. "I don't know about Agamar" Max said, knowing little of the world "but if it's worse than here I'll keep clear. Four days eh..." he scanned the grey sky above forlornly. At least the weather would be constant, not a variable.

"There's a boatyard on the river two klicks west of here" he reported, summarising the results of his earlier recce. "Pretty sure they're our guys from what I could see, lots of blue claw tattoos? They're packing real heavy for boatbuilding anyhow. There might be a smaller group up on the cliffs too, I saw a few lights". The jungle was a hotbead for the militias that had sprung up to challenge the new independent government. There were plenty of them, but their hardest task might be knitting them together.

"You got anything on the different groups, or any personalities we need to track down?". Max had fought rebels many times and knew the difference a charismatic or leader or two made. As allies, they were an invaluable lighting rod. As enemies, they were the head of the snake and the first to feel his blade.

@Altaris

 

[Cipher Eight]

As they spoke, Eight continued to run fingers through his rain-soaked hair - attempting to brush them away from his forehead. There was no salvaging the neat and put-together style that he typically sported as an agent, but that really couldn’t be helped during field operations like the one on Halmad. His gaze flicked up to regard the Lieutenant standing across from him, flashing Max a sideways grin when the other Ciphers were mentioned.

“I would be deeply concerned if you managed to meet all of us, Lieutenant.” He said smoothly. Most in the Empire were lucky if they managed to ever know they’d worked with a Cipher. Anyone who’d managed to encounter all of them - outside of Control - was almost certainly a liability that wouldn’t last very long. “Besides. It’s largely downhill from here,” He grinned - no lack of confidence lacing his every word.

The amusement died down ever-so-slightly when Max turned to their business at hand - giving his own details on activity in the region. Eight crossed his arms over his chest casually, nodding along until the report was concluded. The Agent was silent for a long moment, considering the situation that was laid out ahead of them.

“Blue Claw tattoos? They call themselves the ‘Partisan Guard’. Most of their upper echelons are made up of former planetary defense force, the rest are disgruntled mercenaries and manuel laborers.” He glanced out across the treeline, staring off into space for a long time. “Their leader is a man by the name of Ridge Velcross. Trained military command and extremist, from what I understand.” Eight took in a breath. “His group has caused the most noise recently. Bombings within the capital, attacks on key government infrastructure.” He glanced back to Max. “Military hospital with some hundred-and-fifty wounded servicemen was blown to bits by Velcross’ group, two or three weeks ago.”

“They’re the most well-armed and trained group, from what I can tell. But the amount of people who despise them number almost as high as their supporters.”

“The rest? I have less intel on. Disorganized and unprovisioned.. But they’ve kept their activities to the outskirts and their numbers tucked deeper into the jungle. The chances of uniting them, influencing them and making moves against the government would be higher.. But we’ll be fighting an uphill battle in terms of supplies, equipment or training.”

@Alhon

 

[Max Dram]

The little chap was confident, which was good, there were far too many self-deprecating types these days. Max raised his eyebrows at the agent. Downhill from here indeed.

Eight seemed to appreciate and understand the intel he relayed, his brow creasing just a little despite his fresh face. Max listened in return to the detail about the Partisan Guard and their background. He was not overly concerned by their tactics, or the way they divided opinion. He had a ruthless streak himself and was a firm believer most people tended to respond to strength. Some of the locals may despise the Guard, but if they asserted themselves strongly enough those people would more than likely lie down and keep the distaste to themselves.

”Might as well start with the Guard, don’t you think?” he suggested, Velcross sounded like a formidable man, but all the same he would be an invaluable ally. Perhaps the cornerstone of any serious uprising. Max was sure they could find some common ground.

”Depending on how we get on there, we can assess what value there is in rounding up the more peripheral elements?”. Max could cope with foul weather, but he had no desire to traipse back and forth through the jungle any longer than necessary. If they started with the strongest, they could perhaps get this done in good time.

@Altaris