"It's pretty simple. The vessel, as far as i know, only has one route. That route is from somewhere in Gallia, out to Tau 23 then onto Tau 31 and then finally it moves to Leeds where it arrives at the station known as LD-14. I propose that we hit it in Tau 31, on the final lane to the Leeds jump gate.
We will not need much to hit it, however we will need something to disrupt its communications. One of the bomber and fighter hybrid wings should be perfect for this. The bomber will take out the transports engine whilst the fighters stand guard. Once the transport has lost its engine, we'll need at most 2 boarding parties to quickly and efficiently take control of the ship.
How ever, there is one problem. Say we do successfully capture the transport, what then? We do not have anyone from Gallic origin to disguise themselves, do we? "
" A basic, if effective plan-- but alright we'll roll with it. I'll set it up-- see if I can maybe get some corvette support on standby should we need it. shouldn't be too hard with the recent changes to our patrol routes..
You do raise a good point though... I don't know of anyone that would fit the description.. I'll keep an eye out, I advise you do the same. If we don't find anyone, we'll likely need to hold up the crew somehow.. not the easiest job and almost certainly a suicide mission.."
She pauses, staring blankly at the wall for a few moments before pulling up a nearby datapad and sifting through a few files--
" Yeah, no. I don't have anyone. D'you?"
[ sci·am·ach ]
/sīˈamək/
A simple, angry man casually working his way through life on a personal quest to acquire copious amounts of street cred.
The Inquisitor pauses for a moment, before giving a blank stare to Ramos and pointing at her sling-arm.
" Freelancers get people shot, how'd you think this happened. Save hiring them for the missions that we have the advantage on, and aren't stealing massive flying fortresses.
No, we're gonna need someone a little closer-- not just some scrub we pick up off the loading docks... You may try the Junkers; they've got people from every corner of Sirius and beyond, odds are at least one of 'em is of Gallic origin and may be worth their salt.
Put out a few feelers, see who you can get in touch with. I'll try to call in a favor or two. Who knows, we may get lucky.
Besides, worst comes to worst, I could always send you in with a crash course on Gallic languages and stale baguette. That'd get us somewhere--"
[ sci·am·ach ]
/sīˈamək/
A simple, angry man casually working his way through life on a personal quest to acquire copious amounts of street cred.
"No, I think I can handle the rest of the arrangements. Just find me someone to play the role. I'll get everyone else assembled and see what ships we can pull from the fleet to use. You're dismissed Teniente."
[ sci·am·ach ]
/sīˈamək/
A simple, angry man casually working his way through life on a personal quest to acquire copious amounts of street cred.
Grabbing the papers in her hand, she heads towards the door. Reaching her hand out she grabs onto the door and pulls it open. The corridor had a cool chill that run down the length of it. This gave Isabel a slight chill but she stepped out of the room, leaving the Inquisitor behind in the room.
It was a clear, yet windy and chilly day on Planet Malta. The fields of Cardamine stood tall with their orange glow shinning in the sun light produced from the nearest star. There was a fairly large platform that extended over part of the field. On this platform stood a man dressed in red robes. His name was Pacho Merlin. This man stood, waiting for the arrival of the Junkers coming to visit Isabel.
A freighter approached from the distance and was soon flaring to land. As the engines spun down and cooled a tall thin figure exited the ship. He walked up to the lone standing man and introduced himself. "Hello, I'm Steve Squigs, I was told to come here."
![[Image: IsabelRamos.gif]](http://sig.grumpybumpers.com/host/IsabelRamos.gif)
