Log Date: 11/10/98 Log Cast: Han, Tarroc Log Intro: While New Republic forces have continued to be delayed for various reasons in Caspar space, the Empire has been busily stirring up trouble in other sectors -- first and foremost the Pride-1 system, where the Griffons have found their space station taken over by Imperial forces. And as if that weren't enough for the NR to deal with, Sullust, an NR system that has already recently suffered Imperial blockades, has been once more harried by their ships, a piece of news very shortly destined for the ears of General Solo... ---------- You head down off the entry ramp of the _Falcon_. Landing Bays -- Main Deck The cruiser's landing bays are large enough to facilitate a full complement of X-Wing, Y-Wing and B-Wing fighters. There are several marked and unmarked shuttles laying in wait as well, doing their best to avoid the bustle of the area. A blue magnetic barrier holds out the void of space, protecting the giant cove in the side of the ship. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Tarroc => Megan => STARFIGHTER: Alliance A-Wing Starfighter -- Ghost 5 => STARFIGHTER: Sienar Lambda Class Shuttle -- Axis => STARFIGHTER: Corellian YT-1300 -- Millennium Falcon => STARFIGHTER: Sienar Lambda Class Shuttle -- Intrepid => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Rogue 6 => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Rogue 2 => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Rogue 4 => STARFIGHTER: Sienar Lambda Class Shuttle -- Hope => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Ghost 2 => STARFIGHTER: Alliance A-Wing Starfighter -- Ghost 4 => STARFIGHTER: Slayn and Korpil B-wing -- Ghost 9 => STARFIGHTER: Alliance A-Wing Starfighter -- Ghost 6 => STARFIGHTER: Slayn and Korpil B-wing -- Ghost 10 => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Rogue 3 => STARFIGHTER: Alliance A-Wing Starfighter -- Ghost 3 => STARFIGHTER: Sienar Lambda Class Shuttle -- Tydirium => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Ghost 1 => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Rogue 7 => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Rogue 8 => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Rogue 5 => STARFIGHTER: Incom T-65B X-wing -- Rogue 1 -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- ut leads to Space. tarboard leads to Main Corridor -- Main Deck . Han_Solo enters Landing Bays -- Main Deck Tarroc strides out into the landing bay with a certain sense of purpose, hands clasped behind his back. He makes his way determinedly to the _Millennium Falcon_ and strides up the landing ramp. Then, with a certain degree of martiality, wraps on the door. "I'm tellin' ya, Princess, I got it--" comes the bellowing voice of Han Solo, as his disheveled dark head appears up in the _Falcon_'s hatchway. He blinks, then hunkers a little more down into view, peering bemusedly down at the figure of the Commodore. "Uh. D'agor." "Hello General," Tarroc greets cordially; a few months ago, he might have been quivering from failing nerves due to the current situation or even dealing with someone so well-known. He seems to maintain his composure admirably, however. "If you have a moment, something.. has, ah, come up." Solo peers down at the younger man, surveying what he can see of his face and frame. Then, the General gestures at him, lifting a finger. "Hold that thought," he advises, and momentarily disappears into the vessel. He reappears in short order, without the tools he'd been hauling around, and looking slightly less disheveled though it's still quite apparent that he's been up to his elbows in the maintenance of his beloved freighter. "What's goin' on...?" Tarroc casts a glance around him for a moment, keeping his hands clasped behind his back, then leans forward slightly and notes, "Perhaps a more secure area would be in order, Han." Solo lifts an eyebrow, and gestures wordlessly up the ramp of his craft. "This is closest," he says, all traces of his usual drawl leaving his face, his dark eyebrows lifted in silent query. Tarroc somehow doesn't doubt the security of the _Falcon_. He nods succinctly and steps forward. Most surprisingly for the not-so-subtle Commodore, Tarroc says genuinely, "Why, thank you General. You know, I've always wanted to see the inside of this ship..." Flicking Tarroc a brief lopsided grin, Solo gestures the younger officer up into the ship along with him. "C'mon. Don't trip over my hydrospanners, I left 'em in the corridor..." And he stumps up the ramp, his lanky form disappearing into the vessel. Han_Solo enters in a code and enters STARFIGHTER: Corellian YT-1300 -- Millennium Falcon Main Ring Corridor (Starboard)(#678RntJ) A circular passageway that runs the circumference of the ship, this corridor provides access to all the major areas of the _Millennium Falcon_. The walls are lined with dirty, off-white, upholstered padding interspersed with bulkheads and the occasional control panel; the illumination is faintly greenish. -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- ft leads to Bunk Room.

ort leads to Cargo Hold. ore leads to Cockpit. tarboard leads to Landing Bays -- Main Deck . Han_Solo enters Main Ring Corridor (Starboard) Tarroc has arrived. Tarroc enters Main Ring Corridor (Starboard) There are, indeed, tools lying out in the corridor of the YT-1300, though not right out where they might be stepped on, regardless of the General's warning. He waits for Tarroc to join him, before reaching round to secure the hatch. Tarroc steps inside and carefully steps over the hydrospanners, moving inside until he hears the hiss of the sealing hatch once again. At this, he abruptly stops and drops a hand to his belt. Freeing his comm-link, he raises it and speaks in a low tone, "Keep an eye on the Falcon, please. If anyone gets close, use the scanner and make some noise. Can't let anyone pick anything up. Over." He nods to other as he replaces the unit, remarking, "Just a precaution." Solo's eyebrows have stayed up, and curiosity is obvious in his face, now. "C'mon," he invites, pointing towards the fore of the vessel, around the bend of the ring. "Got some place to sit down this way." You follow the curving corridor to the forward hold. Cargo Hold(#6365Rnt) One of the largest rooms on the _Falcon_, this hold is clearly a center of activity of the vessel. Along the aft wall, close to the starboard ring corridor, sits the huge console controlling the hyperdrive and navigation functions; along the starboard wall, a curved, upholstered arc of couch surrounds a holo-chess board, and provides support for a single sleeping bunk. Towards the fore is open space for cargo, and just about all the remaining wall space is taken up with bulkheads, access panels, and circuits. A hatchway in the ceiling, and a larger one in the floor, allow more access to the innards of the ship. Towards the port side of the hold is visible the entrance into the other half of the ring corridor. -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => 22T4 Hold-Out Blaster => M44 Blaster Pistol -=-=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=-=- => Cargo Computer: Millenium Falcon -=-=-=-=-=<>=-=-=-=-=- tarboard leads to Main Ring Corridor (Starboard). Han_Solo enters Cargo Hold Tarroc comes in from the starboard corridor. Tarroc has arrived. Tarroc enters Cargo Hold Tarroc follows, reclasping his hands behind his back as he goes. He nods slowly and then clears his throat, trying to think of something appropriate to say. "Seems bigger on the inside," is all he can come up without downright lying. For someone who has spent the entirety of his life around military craft maintained to perfection, even the relatively kept interior of a freighter as such seems.. well, quaint at best. Apparently quite accustomed to dubious reactions to his beloved ship, Solo shoots his companion a look as he leads him into the foreward hold. He flicks a hand over to the half-circle of a couch around the currently deactivated holochess board, and drawls, "She's got space enough. And everything else where it counts. Have a seat." Tarroc takes a look before sitting to make sure he won't be sitting in anything; another lesson learned the hard way when in someone else's ship. He clasps his hands in his lap now and looks over to Solo, "Well, General. Sullust has been blockaded. Again." Settling himself across from Tarroc on the other end of the couch, Solo pulls in a breath at this news, and then lets it out in a whistle. "Probably explains why I haven't heard from the units I sent there, then," he surmises. "What do we know so far?" "Roughly a sector fleet repelled our forces from Sullust about twenty two hours ago... roughly a sector fleet moved in, and our people wisely pulled out before the hammer was dropped on them," he tries to use the one phrase he's picked up from dealing with 'honest businessmen'. "To the credit of your troops, they're holding pretty well. The shielding is still up and the ion cannons took a few shots at the Imperial ships. No appreciable damage, but enough to keep them at bay. All of the troops have taken up defensive positions; if the Empire did make a push on the planet, it would cost them dearly if they managed to pull it off." He pauses again, then states, "I don't think that's why they're there though. They want us." The Corellian takes all of this in, his gaze sharpening with every syllable. All he says when D'agor finishes his report is, "Who all knows about this, so far?" "You and I," Tarroc responds simply, folding his arms over his chest now. "Ackbar should be receiving the message in seventeen minutes." Well, at least he's precise. "That's why we're not going through Sullust to get home. I had a feeling something like this would happen," he pauses and can't help but sigh, "Kind of wish I put some more forces there to defend, but I have a tendency to not go with my instincts sometimes. Anyway, we figured out how to get to Kashyyyk from here during our stay.. we're en route there now." "I was wonderin' when we were going to leave the system," muses Solo, nodding what approval he can even as he visibly mulls the situation over. His hazel eyes have sparked, and a slight smirk curls his lean mouth. Slouching back against the back of the couch in nothing resembling military posture, he stares over at the younger officer and adds, "So why bring this to me first?" "The shift of Imperial forces," Tarroc continues, lacing his fingers togethor neatly in his lap. "Will allow us to retake the Pride-1 system. Some have said I was overly conservative for waiting for the most opportune time to strike; that it would never come. It has. And that is why I bring this to you. I believe you have some preparations to make." _That_ brings Han out of his slouch. "Two-pronged campaign?" he asks, eyes going a little wide. Tarroc shakes his head and produces a datapad. Tapping a few keys, he hands the datapad to the General. Even if he is a little wet behind the ears, he's certainly got a solid concept for his battle plan. "Pride-1 is the cradle of the Imperial campaign against us. Without Pride-1, Sullust becomes a very tenable position, as do many of the other Imperial holdings..." Solo's attention had been solidly on Tarroc before; now, he's riveted, leaning forward to take the pad, slapping that sharp gaze of his upon the little screen, his brows drawing together intently over his eyes. "Go where they don't think we'll be," he says, grinning. "Works for me. Do we have updated intelligence reports on Pride-1?" "We had tabs of the ships in Pride-1," Tarroc says calmly, tapping a key on the pad that Solo holds. "They are now at Sullust. Given what we consider their best possible shift of Imperial forces to Pride-1, they'll still be left nearly thirty percent understrength." Solo scans the new display, his face lit with anticipatory... and predatory... interest. "A promising little bit of information," he approves. "Think our people in the Sullust system can keep the Imperials there occupied, if we send people to Pride-1?" Well, either Tarroc sat down and memorized all kinds of different information before coming to this meeting, or he really does have a gift for this sort of thing. "Given standard transit time of a message and standard hyperdrive ratings of Imperial vessels, reinforcements should arrive three hours after we secure the system." "So the question'll be," muses the Corellian, "if we can either make sure the reinforcements are in no shape to get there... or else we're up to facing the reinforcements. Ideally, both. I can get ground troops rallied to infiltrate the station, but we're gonna need the fleet to get us there." "Not a problem. It's on our way," Tarroc smiles faintly. "I would note that, in my estimation, there is about a thirty percent chance that the Imperials will actually attempt to reinforce the system. If they jumped in and found themselves outmatched, it would severely cripple their fleet strength. The logical result is the Imperials will pull out of Sullust and head around Pride-1 back to reinforce their lines." He hesitates a moment, "Of course, I can't always accuse the Imperials of being logical..." he admits. Solo's grin goes wider, and his eyes glint in satisfaction. "That's why you've got _me_," he proclaims, jabbing his thumb at his own chest. "You want logic, you can talk to Goldenrod. You want somebody who can deal with underhanded planning, I'm your man. We're going for this as soon as possible?" Tarroc nods succinctly. "As soon as I get it past the council. If you could brief the Councilor and try and get her to use some of her sway..." he trails off, chewing on his lower lip for a moment. He wonders if this request is inappropriate or not, "You see, well, this has to be acted on soon..." Blowing out a breath, Solo only _now_ looks slightly daunted. "I'll see what I can do..." he hedges, not liking the prospect of bringing this to Leia. Oh, sure, she's as solidly in support of liberating Pride-1 as he is... _but is she gonna handle me going in on the fun?_ he wonders to himself. Tarroc nods slowly, probably recognizing the other's reluctance. "I'm trying to keep this quiet for the time being. Naturally, if word leaked... well, it could be conversely be as disastrous for us as it would have been for the Imperials..." "Yeah," agrees Solo gruffly. "When am I cleared to brief my officers?" "Figure attack minus thirty-eight hours or so," Tarroc murmurs to himself, then nods. "Yeah, sounds about right. Try not to let them know something's up at all, though." "I'll have to tell 'em something if we're going to be ready," points out the General. Tarroc nods again, slowly, then can't help but yawn. "Been up planning for too long, I need some rest." He hauls himself up more slowly then he sat down and flicks off an impromptu salute, "Good luck. Can't hurt." Solo watches the younger man rise, then suggests, "Let's talk again first thing tomorrow. I gotta know how many of my troops we're going to throw at this -- and how soon. And what to tell the unit commanders." Tarroc nods slowly, "Not a problem, General." He pauses, then says, "Anyway, my notes are on the tactical intelligence network on the ship. You should be able to patch in from here. Should keep you occupied if your ship doesn't." Solo gets to his feet, smirking slightly as he casts a look that's one half exasperation and one half obvious affection around the grungy-seeming hold. "I'll make the time," he promises. Tarroc flicks off another impromptu salute and departs, "See you in the morning. Or when I wake up. Whichever comes first." Solo smiles crookedly, and succintly suggests, "Coffee, and lots of it. See ya tomorrow, Commodore." A return salute, and with that, the General gestures the younger officer ahead to precede him out of the hold. Tarroc heads starboard to the main corridor. Tarroc has left. [End log.]