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| - The Domed City of Aquarius: the underwater center of civilization on Dac. Also the most likely place for a civil war between Quarren and Mon Calamari to begin. The first spark of racial tension had been ignited days ago by Korynn Fleming, who used his expertise in foreign sapient cultures to strike up the tension with mere wordcraft. Now, a place known as The Whaladon Pub, located in a seedier area of the city, had become known to many as "A Quarrens-Only Dig". Work was far from complete. Agent McKenna had his orders, and Fleming, under the disguise of stranded spacer HJek Pathon, was awaiting the arrival of a new undercover operative being sent courtesy of Naval Command. Both McKenna and Drogyn had been made aware of simply one thing - the location of Pathon's new safehouse, in an apartment owned and provided by a crooked Quarren known only as Vrussek. It is here where Korynn waits, alone, studying a small datapad that he guards with his very life. Agent McKenna, under the guise of a Sarian by the name of Antar Evoros, has been busy, doing his job as instructed, gathering information and such on one Eeth Mentel, a minor Quarren diplomat that he has been tailing for a while, now. It is that information that McKenna brings to the appropriate meeting place, the man giving the appropriate signal before entering the apartment. "I got the info..." he mutters towards Korynn who is given a datapad, this one bearing the files that have been gathered. "Wasn't easy. Some of those files were heavily encrypted." The Violent Spark had been chartered to ferry the navy medic to Kashyyyk, from there he caught a long shuttle ride to Dac, his forged papers showing him as a Republic citizen from Mon Sessel, an aquatic planet not dissimilar from this one. Adjusting the weathered vest that was the last remaining item he bought before being enlisted he smiles. The truth of the matter was that he was from the oceanic world of Eridane that had a good number of Calamari and Quarren citizens on it, and he had picked up the language of both races. He adjusts the strap on the medical pack slung over his shoulder. It was not as well designed as the one issued to him by the Imperial navy but it would draw a lot less attention. He caught a submersible to the undersea city favored by the Quarren, exchanging pleasantries with other beings on the vessel. Stepping into the transit station he pulls out a small flimsiplast, checking the address one last time before dropping a bit of an acidic substance on it that consumes the piece of plastic, letting the residue fall into a nearby waste receptacle. The young medic makes his way towards the safehouse, the handgrip of the small blaster pistol digging into his ribcage, he had hoped he would not have to use it, but it was never safe to journey deep into enemy territory unarmed. Fleming rises from his seated position, biting back the temptation to scratch at the bushy red hair that had been implanted into his face. He strides to meet McKenna, taking the agent's datapad and linking it with his own for a few seconds, so the data can download. As the information on Eeth Mentel scrolls onto his datapad, his eyes squint. "This was never meant to be easy," he notes, half distracted as he scans the information. There was a specific reason why he'd singled out this particular Quarren diplomat... public record of his voting style and political means had piqued his interest. "How did you get it?" he asks, looking up towards McKenna with a critical eye. The agent's answer could very well be his last. With a wry grin, McKenna winks to his boss while he folds his arms under his chest, looking very smug as a result. "Let's just say his aid was easy to bribe." Chuckling, he casts a quick gaze upwards, his expression slightly thoughtful. "She was a pretty girl. Human, oddly. Must be on assignment here or something. A bit of dancing and dinner, and she was fairly easy to convince that I was on their side." A hand slides into a pocket and then pulls out a fake NRI badge. "Told her he is under investigation and that I needed her help." Calix punched the appropriate code into the door lock, signaling the people inside the safe house that he was authorized to enter, before entering, fingers curled around the weapon in his shoulder holster just in-case the operation had been compromised. As he steps in and isn’t greeted with a hail of blaster fire or glaring spotlights he relaxes, catching the tail end of McKenna’s report. “I saw the ad for the Paramedic, is this the place for the interview?” He offers up the challenge phrase given to him by Intel before departing the Inquisitor. The blaster pistol still within easy reach should be need it, as his gaze flicks between the two men. The implant in Korynn's larynx gives him a decidedly non-human voice quality, one that makes him sound quite unlike himself when he replies with a very basic Quarrenese phrase. "Queetosh Tu-una." An affirmation to the roaming ear, and secret confirmation of Calix's encoded entry phrase. He gestures for the door to be closed. Once it is, he turns back to McKenna, eyeing the agent with a speculative look. "Very well," he notes, quietly. "You see anything out of the ordinary with Mentel or his aide, I want you to disappear, in any way possible. We cannot afford a security breach at this phase." "I know. You know I'm not the kind of agent who allows things to go south, Korynn. Show me a bit of faith." Reaching out, McKenna pats the Director on the shoulder in a fairly familiar manner before he turns to regard the newly arrived man. Smirking, he angles his head in a polite nod before taking a seat in a nearby chair. "I doubt anything will happen. The aid's a bit of a ditz, Korynn and is fairly materialistic. I can bribe her into doing almost anything. As for the diplo, I got things covered with him. No worries." The Quarranese phrase causes the NCO to relax. His hands slip to his hips as he looks around, taking a moment to pop his ears, "Despite the dome, it always takes me a couple of days to get adjusted to the pressure difference." He drops the gearbag on his left shoulder to the ground, keeping his medical kit clutched tightly though, “Security seems to be pretty tight here, are the locals still expecting an invasion?" Korynn smirks just slightly toward McKenna, but he doesn't acknowledge the agent's defense. The new arrival's question draws his attention more fully. "Naturally." He gestures about with his eyes, indicating the ceiling, but more metaphorically, the city and planet above them. "Their military is still allegedly headquarted at the orbital station. Worse, I've heard some... disturbing rumors." His eyes squint slightly. "It seems the rebel fleets are on the move. Why... I don't know. This /could/ play to our advantage, though. If their fleets are conducting operations, their leaders may not notice the developments here until it’s too late. Thus we must move swiftly to make sure we are in control of the situation." McKenna looks at his datapad screen and taps a few things on the keys, frowning slightly while doing so. "I haven't heard anything about that news. I'll keep an ear out. See if I can figure out if it'll effect our work at all." He shrugs at that, not really seeing how any New Republic action could possibly thwart their efforts on Dac, but it's best to keep an open eye and ear out just to stay aware. The other man's regarded once his words are spoken and he shakes his head, grinning tightly before he replies to him. "I don't think it's an invasion they are worried about, now. There's the racial tension between the Quarren and the Mon Cals... think that's a more pressing matter." "So what exactly do you need me to do sir, I was under the impression that my skills would be used to help build favor with the Quarren. I don’t have the supplies with me to open a full clinic, but enough to make an attempt to help out somewhere till more can arrive." He glances around as McKenna speaks, "I am not quite sure they are onto the fact that trouble is brewing yet, if they were they would be increasing security in places like here rather than on the surface at the starports, I think their eye is firmly on threats from outside at the moment, at least that is my take on it, but I am just a grunt." "On the contrary, grunt, I think you're right." Korynn turns from Calix to look at McKenna, then motions them both to take a seat around a table in the room. Korynn moves over to take a seat himself, and settles his datapad down on the table's center, shifting it so that it faces the both of them. "We have maps of the city, and now critical information on this Quarren. Eeth Mentel, a minor diplomat in the Republic government." He presses a key, bringing up an information dossier as collected by McKenna. "As you can see, his political stance puts him highly in favor of Quarren rights, and more than a few times has he voted against policy favoring the Mon Calamari." Korynn taps his finger on the table twice, making a firm 'thunk' sound. "This is our ultimate target, gentlemen. When this Quarren takes the side of his people in the public arena, it will be caused by actions of a Quarren extremist network, ready to give everything to see their planet freed from New Republic control. What we must focus on now, is not just inciting riots, but fueling them." He touches another button, which brings up a rather vague dossier on a man named Tikkes, who was a Quarren Senator during the Separatist Crisis. "If we are to fuel these riots efficiently, we will need to use this Quarren's name." Having already sat, McKenna simply scoots his chair closer to the table until he's close enough to look at the information. "Tikkes. Heard of him." Frowning, he pulls up the Quarren's file on his datapad, accessing public records he had uploaded a few days previously to today. "He'd be a very efficient tool, Director. A very effective tool.." Sighing, he tosses the small device onto the table, causing it to skitter across its surface towards Calix so he can look at it. "I have to confess that I am growing a bit nervous, Director. So many hands to get into the pot. Will we be able to do it?" Calix sits as ordered, pulling his chair up to the table and looking over the data displayed there, "Oh, starting a war is easy enough, keeping it from blowing up in your face, not so easy." He smirks at that, "Maybe some contaminated bacta from a manufacturer on Reef Home City or tainted kelp would do it. Though we would need to make the ties really strong because once our Senator starts to make noise, the Republic is likely to at least look into the situation." Korynn turns a speculative gaze upon Calix, his made-alien eyes squinting and flexing oddly. He's silent for a few moments, before turning the datapad around to look at it again. "As long as Republic officials can't trace anything beyond the manufacturers or warehouses. If it starts there and cannot be traced as tampering, then they'll have nobody to blame but their own citizens." His eyes rise to level on Calix for a moment, as if willing the man to consider the option as a mission to handle on his own. Yet before Calix can answer, Korynn turns toward McKenna. "Tikkes was implicated as being involved in a slaving ring, and later escaped house arrest to join the Separatist movement. This prompted a civil war on this planet between a group known as the Quarren Isolation League, led by Tikkes, and Mon Calamari Loyalists. This civil war was ended by elements of the Old Republic, led by Jedi Knights and Mon Calamari Loyalists. The Quarren were defeated, and sent into isolation. By prompting the Quarren to believe that this treachery was by design, they will develop a hatred of the Mon Calamari that cannot be put out by politicians." He tilts his yes toward Calix again. "Further promptings of small degree here and there can serve to further fuel this racial fire." History has never been an interest of McKenna and it shows in how his eyes get the glazed-over look to them a child who has no interest in a lesson might get but it eventually passes and he nods, huffing out a slight sigh as he does so. "Well, like I've said before, Director. Just tell me when and where and I am there. Am at your disposal, after all." Grinning, he leans back in his chair now, tilting it back up onto its back two legs as he links his fingers behind his head. "This shouldn't be too difficult to spark. I think they're just waiting for an excuse, now. And I know the Empire will be more than happy to do so as well as dump some fuel on the fire once it gets started." Calix nods as he gets the ISB contacts hint, "I will see what I can do about altering their bacta supply and see if we can cause a little mayhem." He makes a mental note to start casing out the factories in RHC, "I wonder if we could find smugglers interested in bringing medical supplies and stuff in quantity to the planet, we can set up an aid station for the Quarrens as they begin to get ill from the tainted supplies, but if we bring even more quantities in they can go towards being war material for the revolution." Korynn looks toward McKenna. "While you're keeping your eyes on Mentel, make friends with some of the outspoken Quarren. Get them riled up. The New Republic advocates freedom of speech, after all, so you have every right to make racist remarks. Just don't get yourself into a fight unless you're willing to follow it up with your own life." Looking to Calix, Korynn considers this. "I'll mention this to my off-planet contact the next time he arrives. I'm wary of involving smugglers. They have a tendency to sell out to the highest bidder, or to simply get on some foolish crime lord's good side." McKenna chuckles as he nods, still held in the same casual pose, looking all for the life of him as being rather sloppy rather than being a well-trained ISB agent. "Of course. It will be fun to get the squid riled. And easy. Just dangle a bit of.." He chuckles softly, "...bait before them and they'll bite for it." Calix's suggestion is taken in, once that's said and he nods, smiling in approval. "Good idea. But yeah... like Korynn said. Smugglers are nasty to deal with. Cost way too much and most of them have the unsavory habit of getting caught. Perhaps an Imperial contact of some sort would be best?" "So what if the smugglers tell the crime lords or the rebels they are smuggling medical supplies to the Quarren, as long as they can't finger the Empire, the more we telegraph that the Quarren are restless, the stronger they will make our case by trying to either calm or pacify the dissidents, either way will anger them as one way will be seen as paternalistic the other Draconian. The NR." The Corpsman steeples his hands with a smile, "Might be best to avoid any Imperial ties till things are under way." Korynn tilts his head evenly toward Drogyn, then squints his eyes. "What's your name, grunt?" he asks, speaking the word with a respect that otherwise may not be implied by the word. Tilting his chair back, McKenna looks at them, first the medic and then over to Korynn himself, listening intently, now. There's a slight look in his eyes as he regards them, a faint curiosity that lingers for a moment before it flees. Calix stands up, moving to attention almost instinctively, “Chief Petty Officer, Calix Drogyn, Combat Medic, Task Force Inquisitor assigned to Fourth Cohort, Fourth Century, Five oh First Stormtrooper Legion." he shifts to a parade rest, the trained soldier in him rising quickly to what had been a rather casual demeanor. Korynn held a great deal of respect for the 501st. His eyes brighten at that mention, a cold sort of energy flaring through them in spite of the alien lenses affixed to his corneas. "Drogyn. As you were." He tips his head in a slow nod. "I trust they provided you with a cover identity in coming here. Outside of this room, you'll refer to me as HJek Pathon, stranded spacer with a busted ship." He banks his head toward McKenna. "He's going by Antar Evoros." He gently folds his hands together after disabling his datapad. "I'm compelled to agree with Drogyn. If we avoid any direct Imperial ties, then the only enemies the rebels will have are their own people. I suggest we get to work, and make our fair share of Quarren friends." Grunting at the mention of his assumed identity, McKenna finds himself rubbing at one of his 'sar spots' that the surgeons were so kind to provide him before his deployment here, looking slightly disgruntled over having them by how he fusses at the one at his left temple. "You know, if it is at all possible, we should try to find a way to implicate the rebels in this. I know it'd be difficult and therefore probably best not to attempt, but I think it'd be a nice bit of a finger in the NR's 'eye' if they were to wind up with their reputation marred." Sighing, then, he lets his hand fall to his lap, the fussing at his brow stopped, the flesh he was rubbing now red.
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