The Rebel Faction

"... And in other news, the Mandalorian Sector Authority today confirmed the suspected theft of top priority technology. Over the past week, internal security has been running an intensive investigation into the activity of a possible infiltrator. Initial indications are that the mole, working for a terrorist faction, obtained the technology with intent of using it to destabilize the galactic establishment. The MSA is staying quite tight lipped about exactly what was stolen. Here to examine this remarkable event is our military correspondent, Hue Nash. Hue, good to have you with us."

"It's great to be here, John."

"You've been following this theft with great interest, haven't you?"

"Yes, that would be correct. The public admittance that top secret technology has been stolen indicates that the MSA is slightly worried something might happen, or they're trying to send a message saying 'We're on to you'."

"Which do you think it is?"

"The latter."

"Any ideas as to exactly what was stolen?"

"My personal opinion is that one of the new Vigil-class SPC's was lifted from a testing ground. Such a craft could be worth a lot of money if sold to the correct buyer, or for even more diabolical schemes, the uniqueness of the craft could be used to frame the Anthos Military and MSA of some great atrocity. By publicly announcing that something has been stolen, the MSA is already using the fire extinguisher."

"Well, that's all the time we have for now, thanks so much for being with us, Hue."

"Thanks again for having me."


-excerpt, ARH news.

&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Tal coughed, the smoke in this room was congesting his lungs. He had always had touchy lungs.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "So we have a potential ... 'buyer' ?" said the fat man as he took another drag on his cigarra.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Yes, sir," replied Tal.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "I was not asking for confirmation, I was making a statement," said the fat man harshly. Tal nodded.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Very well. Contact him, make the transaction. Here," the fat man threw a datapad at Tal. IT connected squarely with is chest, making him gasp.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "All the details are there. Now go."
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp Tall nodded, gasping for breath as he exited the room. A halfhour later he was calling com code 200358657.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Yeah?" asked a raspy voice.
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Gimme bill," relplied Tal. After a moment,
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "Bill speaking."
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp "I have something you may be interested in. If you want the Vigil, get yourself and a significantly superior officer to the nav cords 12202x22348x1000003x1 in ten standard hours. I am not a patient man, do not be late. Have plenty of cash available. I'm only interested in selling to a significantly superior officer who can guarantee that my money isn't forged."
&nbsp &nbsp &nbsp &nbsp With that Fondeau terminated the connection.

(OOC. Go here. Don't be late.)
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