It's been two weeks since Mark and Zyra were meant to make contact.  While they hadn't supplied an exact date of return, Devon knew that Mark was not one to exaggerate times.  If he said he'd contact you in a week, he'd contact you in 7 Coruscant days.  Even allowing for delays, something was wrong.

Cor's M4 is hovering by Devon, acting as a virtual presence for its mistress.  Although it projects no holographic image at this point in time Cor's voice can be heard coming through it.

"I see this as being a very significant problem, Devon, as I am certain you do as well.  If nothing else I am certain Ms Jax would have responded to my messages if she was able - they were going radio-silent for a set time only."  Her normally calm voice is tinged with a very real concern.  "I have already begun attempting to trace their likely destination from the path they were taking through the hyperlanes, where we last heard from them and where reports of their vessel - or one like it, has been seen."  She gives a sigh.  "It is slow work.  If we cannot find them on our own we may need to find more specifically skilled help - a bounty hunter, perhaps.

"I think we should discuss this with the whole team but I wished to talk to you about it first, obtain your opinion on what we should do."

Devon pulled himself out from under his swoop bike, where he'd been entertaining himself with some totally unnecessary tinkering; Zen and the art of Swoopbike Maintenance.  He was smeared with grease and sweating.  Sev hovered nearby, projecting a hologram of a circuit diagram.
Wiping his brow, Devon selected another hydrospanner and glanced up at Cors M4.

"Frakkin right its a problem - maybe they got captured.  Best case is something has made them stay radio silent.  Um."
Devon stared blankly at the circuit diagram for a few moments before dismissing it with a wave of his hand.  Freed from its duties, Sev drifted away chirping and whistling to itself.

"Um." he repeated.  "OK.  Assume for a second they got captured.  That means they'll be interrogated.  Assume they'll break.  They were told where we are - they know the ID of our ship.  I think we gotta get off Nar Shaddaa right frakkin NOW."
This message was last edited by the player at 11:21, Sat 08 Nov 2014.

"If anyone bothers interrogating them, perhaps.  Considering how small our organisation is they may simply have been executed."  The M4 hovers about a little as if restless.  "I think we have little need to get off Nar Shaddaa immediately - the Hutts have no desire to have their trade interrupted so it is perhaps one of the more nondescript places to go to ground.  Though we will certainly need to leave soon."  She makes a thoughtful sound.  "Another small neutral world like Det Akari, perhaps, but without the civil war and falling masonry."

"Yeah, lets hope they dont get interrogated." muttered Devon as he started shoving hydrospanners back into his toolkit.
"OUR organization is small, but they were attending as part of the military, remember?  An' they're both officers - that makes them bigger fish."

Having finished returning all his tools to their designated homes, Devon looks round the bay.
"OK, so're going to be leaving Nar Shaddaa... and going some place else - break our trail. Just in case they get interrogated.  Then we can plan our next move."

Devon turned and looked directly into the hovering M4s lens.
"I think its time we got the others in here - even the recruits.  This'll effect them too - if they come with us now, then its gonna be no take-backs.  If they're in, they're in all the way.  An can you get A9 up to the bridge and plotting courses for... lets say Tattooine for the moment.  I want to have options ready in case we have to run at a moments notice."

"I suggest we talk to the Talons first," Cor offers, "and work out where exactly we wish to head so that we can present a firm decision to the recruits, rather than say 'If you are with us, best decide that now, even though we do not quite yet know what we are doing.'"

"Right." said Devon, deep in thought.  "We better get em in here."
Blinking, he looked around the Ghtrocs cargo bay.
"Nah, the lounge will work better.  I'll call 'em in."

Switching his Talon comm over to a squadron-wide frequency, Devon thought for a moment before he began talking.  He had no idea where half of the squad was, checking the time he figured that two hours would give them plenty of time to return.
"Seven to all Talons - we need to have a council of war about our situation.  Please report back to the Ghtroc tonight - I wanna be sitting down round a table with you guys by 1900."

The call made, Devon finished putting his tools away and ambled off to get the lounge ready.
Drinks... caf... something stronger for Heigren...

Moving his tools and the swoop bike over to the Firespray would have to wait.  At least the R2 was already aboard...
This message was last edited by the player at 00:32, Mon 10 Nov 2014.

Receiving the summons, Cor and Devon are soon joined by Heigren, Flash, Sheila and Mika.  All the current serving Talon are in attendance, but not the potential recruits (i.e. Idaya, Dohr, Fiarr and Kyvarr are not present).

Flash arrived promptly on Devon's summons.  "So has the boss finally shown up?  Eager to get back to work and kick some Imp butt!"

He looked around the room at the drinks.  "Caf and drinks.  Looks like a mission planning session.  Clearly not an actual mission or you'd have put out food too!"
This message was last edited by the GM at 21:50, Mon 10 Nov 2014.

"Things are unfortunately going to require some discussion, Flash," Cor notes via her droid.  Her hologram flickers into life in a nearby chair as the dutiful M4 begins projecting it.  "Best wait until everyone else is settled in."

Heigren sauntered in and stopped, slightly surprised he had beaten several of the Talons to the meeting.  He was tempted to walk out and try again to be 'fashionably late'.  Seeing the serious looks from Devon and Cor, he thought better of it, helped himself to a drink and dropped into a seat.

Devon smiles at Flashs comment - the Duros' enthusiasm was infectious - he wondered how much longer it would last once he broke the news.
"Cor's right, buddy - lets wait till everyone else is here; I dont wanna have to say all this twice."
Nodding a greeting to Heigren, Devon said:
"Since you helped me out with the ship - I'm callin' her Moonshadow - I figure I owed you.  So to start with I managed to lay my hands on some of that whisky you had last time - it's on me, enjoy."

Sheila came in, she had changed into her new clothes, the equivalent of jeans and a blouse, no one had seen her in anything other than exercise or sims gear otherwise this week.

She dropped into a seat.  "They back yet?  I'm sick of being Janine."

Flash shrugged.  "Since it's just us regulars here we can go by our real names.  As soons as we decide who's coming and who's stayin' we can use real names too."  He personally wasn't phased.  'Flash' obviously wasn't his real name and he doubted anyone believed it was.

Mika hadn't been four from the ship in days, save for helping Devon with his new pet project, so she arrived quickly.  She'd recently been in the fresher, as had her clothes, she hardly had any engine grease anywhere in evidence, a near unknown event.  At least her hair was still in disarray.

"Glad we got things moving along.  It's been nice to have some time to rest up, what with our shore leave and all, but I guess it's time to do a bit of work.". Picking up that things are not all peaches and cream, she grabs up a fizz pop and looks to Devon, her eyes narrowing as she realizes the undercurrent of seriousness in his light-hearted words to Flash and Heigren.

"Yes.  It is time."  Cor glanced over at Devon. "I believe you had best begin, Commander."

"Alright." said Devon, pushing his fingers through his hair.
"Easy stuff first: Idaya wont be joining us.  She found a 'help wanted' ad or somethin' at the training centre an signed on with some private security firm that apparantly wanted experienced cap ship officers."  He shrugged.   "So thats one thing we can cross off our 'crap to worry about' list.  Moving on." Devon turned to look at his M4 droid which was happily investigating a pile of boxes in the corner.
"Sev - get over here an gimmie the calender view."

Whistling its understanding, Sev hovered above Devon and projected a hologram calender into air above the array of drinks cluttering the table.
"Ok - down to business.  So none of us have heard a squeak from Mark or Zyra." said Devon.  "This is today, right here." he jabbed a finger at the calender, and Sev obligingly caused that section to glow bright blue.
"That" - green glow - "Is when they left to go to that meeting.  An' one week later is when we expected them to get back in contact."  Orange glow.

"So they're now... a week overdue to get back in contact with us." The entire section between the orange and blue high lights turned deep red.
"The way me and Cor figure it, if they were planning to extend their radio silence... they would have told us if they could have.  If the boss says he's gonna call you in one week, then you can expect your commlink to chirp exactly seven days later.  Which means this silence is somethin' they got no choice about."

Devon sat back and looked round the table to gauge peoples reactions.
"Now maybe this mission of theirs is just takin' longer than planned. Or maybe they're on the run.  Or maybe things went really bad and they got captured.  or killed.  Now I figure the worst possibility for the Talons is that they got captured - if they got captured... then they might get interrogated.  An' right now they know exactly where we are an what ship we're flying."

"I'm thinkin' we assume the worst for now.  So we gotta get ready to leave - we gotta break our trail.  Once we're clear of Nar Shaddaa we can plan our next move."

Cor says nothing for the moment, tapping on keyboards that her hologram doesn't show, sorting through data of her own.  Her gaze flicks briefly around the group; it's obvious, despite her typically unflappable countenance, that she's very worried.

Mika gives a sigh.  She'd known that Mark and Zyra were late in getting back in touch, but somehow it hadn't clicked for her until Devon summed it up.  "Then we're in a damage control mode.  We need to pull whatever assets we have within reach, we need to change command codes, Talon comm frequencies and with Devon being the boss in a longer term, maybe we need to make some mods to our individual areas of responsibility, stuff like that."

"Maybe we do.  On the bright side," Cor mentions evenly, "we have an uncommonly large amount of living space, considering Devon and I have recently acquired ships that Commander Shepard and Ms Jax cannot possibly know about.  We will have a solid - and mobile - base of operations.  That will assist in searching datatrails, space lanes, the like - but it will also help address a problem that is perhaps just as urgent."

She turns a little more fully to face the team.  "We need jobs.  Nothing will kill our search for our missing teammates faster than running out of fuel and supplies.  Those things costs money.  Historically Ms Jax has managed those matters but now we must fend for ourselves - which means a feasible balance between searching and working.  We have no idea yet how long this search will take or where it will take us.

"I am looking for suitable opportunities, of course, but everyone will need to keep their collective eyes open."

Flash stood up.  "If we're worried about security we should get back to the Nest and clear our gear out.  The Nightshrike and our fighters are there, along with our equipment.  Then we should be out hunting for the commander.  We should go now!"

"An that's what we are gonna go." Devon quickly countered, before Flash could go charging out the door and power up the Ghtrocs engines.  He motioned for his friend to sit down.
"But we gotta do this RIGHT.  We are not gonna charge off half-cocked."

Devon held Flashs gaze till the Duros sat, then continued.
"First up we gotta decide if we are taking the recruits with us.  In a moment I'm calling them in here and telling them that we're leaving and this is their last chance to back out.  So if anyones got a real good reason for me to not call them in here, then lets hear it now.  Cor - please get CC9 to round them up."