Dominion Acid Party | First Order Dominion of Solem & Taul

[Krayzen Dratos]

Part of him hated being in-front. Needing a small snack, his Anzati senses desired soup to fill his stomach. He somewhat struggled to concentrate, knowing full well that other soldiers had watched him. Aedan could tell from his previous experience that they found him, and the Imperial Knights to be odd. But he was here, to serve, not to watch. And hopefully his example would lead to a poisitive perception of the Imperial Knights.

Seeing a pack of spiders, the Anzat controlled himself, waiting for them to reach the spiders themselves. While the troopers shot at them, he reached to the force, draining them of their life force. The fact that there were a large pack allowed him to feed himself. Force drain was essentially an enhanced version of what Anzati did: draining the life force of other organisms in order to survive. It was how he needed to eat, and while he had attempted to limit himself to animals, one occcasion, he still needed a sentient being, especially humans to feed him.

Nodding back at Arrik Straden , the Anzati Warrior reached toward the force. Looking up, he saw a variety of life forms. From the signature they emitted, he could only think they were hostile.

"There are people up there. Half the size of a platoon."

 

[Virginia Schnapp]

Virginia slowed the skiff as it approached the coordinates on her briefing. When she had stopped the skiff, she checked in with command and let them know their status before disembarking the skiff. She dropped onto the spongy ground and adjusted her utility belt before taking the scanner off it. "I'll take the cave," said Virginia to the others on the team. "Tremaine, you're with me."

"I don't want to go in there," said Tremaine, eyebrows furrowing.

Virginia sighed. "I don't either. In fact I'd really rather not be on this hellhole of a planet anyway. But I didn't get the option and neither did you, so let's just get it over with."

There was a pause, then a sigh. "Copy," Tremaine said.

The pair proceeded up towards the mouth of the cave. At the entrance, Virginia pulled a flare from her belt, cracked it, and hurled it into the darkness, causing a bright light to bath the portion of the interior in which it landed. "Nothing moving," she muttered to Tremaine. "That's a good sign." She frowned and swallowed audibly. "I hope."

 

[Dresden Verbrennung]

​

As the flotillas raced towards each other in the dark, the music shifted to something a little more suited to brawling. That was Dresden's call. If he was going to end up in a fight, he needed something a little crunchier than the average dancefloor jam. He found himself grinning like a madman, despite the intense anxiety that settled in the pit of his stomach like a lump of lead. For him, fighting was a job. He didn't usually enjoy the process, aside from the sense of pride in a job well done. But this? This looked fun.

He, Shelly, and Trip, their other dance partner, stood by the bow of the airboat, hunched down low against the air resistance, and occasionally wincing as the spray burned their skin. They were all similarly equipped, the difference only in the details. Dresden's kurki wasn't quite as impressive as Shelly's lightsaber, but it had more reach and power than Trip's wickedly curved pair of karambit fighting knives. Mind, his would be better for stabbing and slicing, and wouldn't need as much room to work. They'd both lag behind the sheer cutting power of the space wizard glowstick, but that couldn't be help.

"This ought to be a blast," Trip said conversationally. Or at least as conversationally as one could over the howl of the airboat's blower, and through a full face respirator.

"Oh, loads. How do y'all want to do this?" Dresden asked.

"I have an idea," Shelly shouted. "Clench up."

The two men looked at each other, looked over to Shelly, saw the look in her eye even through the face shield, and immediately braced. Just in time, too, as the former Sith picked them up and hurled them bodily through the air towards the enemy craft. Despite the sphincter-clinching terror of flying over an acid swamp at insane speeds and trying to hit a moving target, Dresden had to admit that it was one hell of a ride. He and Trip crashed, feet first, into a crowd of writhing bodies and immediately set to work. The element of surprise on their side, they each managed to open up a pair of foes in as many seconds, and before they'd had a chance to hit the ground, Shelly landed at their backs and set to work.

"Get to the controls!" Dresden shouted. "The quicker we can get backup, the better."

Resurgent Narrative

 

[Sun-Shin Tae]

Jaida Tess | Vernon Hectis | Matt the Radar Tech | Drexel Quinn | Masayu Kimura | Kim Dae-Hyun

[OPEN]
​

The green-skinned Solemites were going to town, but Captain Sun-Shin wasn't about to be outdone. If she was anything it was competitive, and for once she was grateful for the Seoularian stamina. She chugged the flagon of ale and slammed it down and waved the waitress over for another. There was a particular brutish fellow across from her, who seemed to be in direct competition. "TEENY HOOWOMAN! HOW ARE YOU STILL HERE?!" She grinned and then began to chug down another. The more she drank the more competitive Sun-Shin became, but she was sure to all that was holy that her liver would never speak to her again after this.​

​

She formed her hand in a motion of, come here or - bring more. Sun-Shin had knocked back another flagon and was trying not to show how bad her stomach was revolting. She took a moment to steel her resolve, "because I will win."​

​

"HA HOOWOOMAN! I LIKE YOUR SPIRIT BUT YOU WILL DROP!"​

​

"Like hell," remarked Sun-Shin with a chite-eating grin. ​

​

By this point surely someone was going to fall over, but it seemed at least to that point that both sides were proving to be quite stubborn. At least until one of the Solemites chugged so fast, and so hard their heads hit the table with a rather undignified thud. "You're one short," commented Sun-Shin with a sly smile as she took hold of another flagon.​

​

​

 

[Matt the Radar Tech]

Sun-Shin Tae | Drexel Quinn | Jaida Tess | Vernon Hectis | Masayu Kimura | Kim Dae-Hyun

​

The drinking contest was going in earnest, as round after round was delivered or poured at the long table, and the participants took each to task. Mugs were raised, emptied, slammed down. It was boisterous and loud and everything Mitth'orn'eruod was not familiar with. The mission was so far from the standard for the Chiss, in every regard, that all he could do was push through and not consider the implications and details. The objective was to drink? So Mitth'orn'eruod would.

Opposite him, the Solemite the Chiss kept pace with had started to waver. The large humanoid's face had started to droop, as he struggled to keep up with others, the green skin even looked paler. With calm and collected actions, Mitth'orn'eruod raised his next mug of the strong beverage and started to drink, the liquid burned slightly on the way down, but otherwise the effects of alcohol had yet to drastically take a toll on the Chiss.

"Impressive, Captain Tae," Mitth'orn'eruod said as he looked to one side and caught the other officer mid-drinking. She was certainly capable and apparently stubborn enough to put up a good fight. "If you keep this up, you claiming the victory could be very likely."

Mitth'orn'eruod finished his own mug, before he placed it back onto the table. There was no need for him to get rowdy or slam things, so he maintained his usual manner and simply proceeded to act as a Chiss would. Besides, which, Mitth'orn'eruod suspected the Solemites were not very knowledgeable of the blue-skinned species, if the curious glances and narrowed eyes were anything to go by. Granted, it could have simply been a case of alcohol intake, and the green-skinned hulks just saw Mitth'orn'eruod as another sentient to beat.

Another round was presented, to which Mitth'orn'eruod reached out and grasped the mug, before he raised it and looked across the table to his direct opposition. The Solemite was staggered, as he also lifted the next round and started to drink. The Chiss followed suit, as he lowered his eyebrows and felt a faint smile tug at the edges of his lips while he drank. Others along the table had started to fall, some from both sides of the competition, but there remained quite a few in the contest.

Surprising. A good showing from both sides.

 

[Jaida Tess]

Matt the Radar Tech | Sun-Shin Tae | Drexel Quinn | Masayu Kimura | Kim Dae-Hyun | Vernon Hectis
_______
​

Jaida's mug was barely placed down atop the table and it was refilled right away with some sort of local ale. It was not bad, but not good either. Probably more the former, but they weren't hosting the drink off so one just gulped and smiled.

The young TIE pilot had lost count by now of how many rounds they'd participated in so far, but it was evident from the rowdiness and glazed over eyes around her it was a lot for both sides. During her academy days, on ocassion there would be various competitions between the different branches of the military - ground pounders vs spacers vs the fighter jockeys. When it came to sports, Jaida excelled, but her constitution wasn't set up for long-haul drinking. With a lean muscle mass, she didn't have a lot of fat to soak up all the alcholol.

Reaching up with her hand, the blonde tapped her finger on the front of her teeth. It was a test to see just how chit faced she was. There was still some feeling there so maybe Jaida could hang in there for another round or two... though the flight officer's stomach was starting to become a little uneasy.

Just then a large burp erupted from the petite pilot.

"Oopsie!" Jaybird announced with a small giggle, then she grabbed the mug in front of her and proceeded to chug the liquid again, though it definitely wasn't going down as fast, not even close.

 

[Caio]

Laiek Dyuro was enjoying humbling the offworlders. He'd been a bit miffed to be told they'd fight them the old fashioned way at first. They were technologically inferior to the First Order but not millennia behind. The wargame was little more than a brawl, a contest of strength, one the burlier Solem natives were guaranteed to win. Most of the First Order troops who'd landed appeared to be human and on average they were smaller than the locals.

Odd, he'd not seen Kyarak's patrol in a while. They'd just gone over the hill but-ah at last. He waved in greeting, two of them seemed to be dragging a third figure between them. A captive! He started towards them, posture relaxed, like the rest of his troops. He frowned as they ducked in between a clump of boulders. "Kyarak" he barked, annoyed at having to tramp further uphill. He could see him now, his head down but it was like he had something under his cloak...

He didn't see the blow coming but he felt it. The stun spear clattered him in the head and he went down, poleaxed. The rest of his team had no time to react. Soldiers had appeared out of nowhere, coming out from gaps in the rocks. The Solem warriors had no chance to fight back, overwhelmed by the sudden savage assault.

Caio crouched by the unconscious form of their leader, making sure he was out. He rose, looking at the others with a smile. They were all catching their breath but elated with the victory. Four more Solemites out for the count wasn't going to win the wargame but it couldn't hurt. It was the third group their little band had come across in the last hour and the locals didn't seem to have a clue that a few imperials were on the loose behind their lines.

"Make sure everyone's covered, we better move before they're missed" he whispered. The non-Coillteans were picking it up reasonably well, the basics made sense. Somhairle led off and Caio hissed at Kanner to watch his spacing as they headed back into the undergrowth. Alien colours, alien flora, but the idea stayed the same.

"Stop" he breathed, catching Jalik's eye. He moved closer so they could converse "You need to take it slow and steady". He demonstrated the step "Just don't crowd me so much, kay?". The wide eyed soldier gave him a nod and Caio patted his arm. He moved off again, head whirling as he tried to work out their next step.

Getting to the banner was going to be the easy part. Getting out again with it past a hundred or so of the locals was going to be hard. Caio forced the thought away. They'd cross that bridge when they came to it. A hiss and a halt signal from Somhairle made him drop down onto his haunches. Somhairle motioned for him to move up.

 

[Fevris Derzelas]

Tagging: Sun-Shin Tae ~ Matt the Radar Tech ~ Jaida Tess ~ Drexel Quinn ~ Vernon Hectis ~ Karisa ~ Kim Dae-Hyun ~ Masayu Kimura

Fevris had been inclined to believe that her days of tending to drunkards had been left behind when she had finished her practice to obtain her degree.

She had been wrong.

Although she had been certainly perplexed when receiving the call to go assist a couple of officers who had overindulged, that did not mean the good Doctor saw this particular task as being beneath herself. Quite on the contrary, it brought some good memories. Today she would too be watching out for the men and women of the Empire, but without the unavoidable guilt of being their last line of defense in the war between life and death. Today, they only fixed bad choices.

The ambulance moved at a fast pace, while Fevris pondered on what would wait for them at the bar. Drunkenness, for sure, perhaps a bar brawl...hopefully no severe alcohol poisonings. Who was she kidding? If soldiers were involved then she had better prepare for the worst. The thought brought the ghost of a smile to her usually quite aloof expression.

Soon enough they had arrived at their destination, and the team of FIMS medics lost no time in moving out of their vehicles and into the bar - much to the benefit and chagrin of the competing patrons. Those who were already blacking out were their main source of concern, of course, and therefore the ones who would take precedence.

Faced with the scene before them, the CMO turned to her colleagues. "We will need a drink after this..."

 

[Resurgent Narrative]

​

"Blast isn't the half of it," muttered Tanileu as the airboat's horn bellowed out a horn louder than she wanted to get acquainted it with. The ride from the Nether was something else, and while she wanted to enjoy the death-defying trip. Tanileu and her team had to ready themselves. They did not have a former Sith to hurl them so she had to improvise and manage her way to the top and time her jump correctly lest she fall into the acidic swamp and end up having a sector named for her ill-timed efforts. ​

The Gilarian and her team timed it, and landed onto a pit of people who seemed more than happy to float the team it was something else to be sure. The more the people partied the more no one seemed to care that they were here to eliminate people. Careful timing and great jabs into those who needed to be skewered. "Get up there!" Tanileu ordered as she busied herself with those who needed to be put to death for the greater good and all that.​

​

Dresden Verbrennung ​

​

​

 

[Dresden Verbrennung]

​

Kicking someone's balls up between their ears was normally a figure of speech. Not where Shelly was concerned. She centered up on a leering, muscle-bound raider who apparently thought she was a party favor and punted him in the nuts so hard, he flew a good three feet off the deck before collapsing in a heap, vomit spewing from his respirator. Dresden and Trip both turned to look at her, shrugged, and went back to work.

Getting to the controls of the boat was going to be both easier and harder than they expected. On the one hand, only a small number of the ravers actually seemed to be interested in actually fighting. On the other hand, the ones who weren't were actively tripping like fiends, dancing and flailing, often with bladed weapons in hand, and were arguably the greater danger. The fighters were pretty clearly out of it, too, and their slow, clumsy advances made them easy enough to deal with. The deck was already slippery with blood and other, less readily identifiable fluids, and even the nonslip soles of Dresden's boots were struggling to gain traction.

"Go for the masks!" he shouted.

Without their respirators, pretty much anyone exposed to the caustic vapors of the swamp was a goner, unless they took shelter under the gunwales. The acid was fairly mild in contact with the skin, but it aggressively ate away mucus membranes in the eyes, throats, and lungs of anyone who got a good whiff.

Suiting actions to words and ripped the mask off the nearest dancer, a Devaronian woman who was clearly out of her mind. He was somewhat surprised to find that the woman's face was covered with ugly burns and welts under the mask. That might explain why everyone seemed to be as high as a kite. Most commercial respirators were specialized to handle a particular threat. Choose the wrong filter and you might get some protection, but you were still going to get some nasty blowby. It seemed that these filters were particularly inefficient. Not only were some nasty toxins getting through and screwing with their brains, they were getting the crap burned out of their faces. Some of those burns were turning into abscesses, by the look of things, and if they hadn't intervened, this party would be done within a fortnight.

Resurgent Narrative

 

[Vernon Hectis]

The party was only just getting started. Drinks were coming back to back to each of those participating in the competition. This was as brutal as war, with each side trading blows this way. Vernon was starting to feel the effects hit him after his third mug. Things started getting a bit woozy and the room started to spin a bit, but Vernon held himself together. He could see some cracker type snacks not far to his right, but he knew better. That would be a sign of weakness. One he was not willing to show. Not yet at least.

"Barkeep. Keep 'em comin' until the sun rises. I thought we were drinking. Feels like I've just been given water. Where's the good stuff?" Vernon jested.

Yet another mug was filled up before Vernon. The foam at the top spilled over along the sides. Whatever this was, was much different from the drink hew as given before. Maybe they granted him his request. He started to regret his mouth, however, an Adumari does not back down from any challenge. Plus, he could not let his comrades down or go down before any of them.

Vernon grabbed the mug and began chugging whatever it was they gave him. And, at that moment, everything he could still feel became numb. It felt like he swallowed a proton torpedo. He could feel vomit readying itself in the depths of his insides. He held strong until the feeling subsided. He exhaled deeply, relieving himself slightly. Another mug came before him. Everything told him to give up there, but he wouldn't. Not just yet, anyway.

Sun-Shin Tae | Matt the Radar Tech | Jaida Tess | Drexel Quinn | Fevris Derzelas

 

[Caio]

Things were starting to go a little too well and Caio didn't like that.

It was only a matter of time before the locals figured out some of their search parties were being taken out and then the ante was going to be raised considerably. But for now, it seemed like they were getting off scot free. He still couldn't shake that feeling and he could tell his fellow homeworlders were on edge too. You didn't survive in the Green without developing one.

The offworlders were doing pretty well all things considered. He begrudgingly admitted even Kanner was doing his best to stay quiet. Twice they'd gotten past a Solem patrol, close enough to get their smell. Caio and the others had crouched in the undergrowth, spears gripped and waiting but the locals had traipsed on, blissfully unaware of the threat fifty metres to their right.

"Féach ar seo" Somhairle breathed. There was the banner, the one they'd been shown at the start. Only an honour guard with it but they still outnumbered them more than two to one. The group swapped marcobinoculars to surveil the site. "Going to be a tough one" Caio muttered, "I've an idea though"

++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

The honour guard for the banner were bored. While the rest of their warband were kicking seven shades of kak out of the offworlders, they were relegated to protecting the banner. It was a chore while others won their own honour in combat. Morale perked up at the sight of two imperials blundering out of the rocks and foliage. Their commander moved forward, ordering half of them in pursuit. The remainder slowly followed, hoping to block them from escaping on the flanks.

He knew something had gone wrong at the first cry. Turning, he saw three of his remaining guards on the ground. Muddied figures were rising from the dirt, they'd sprung out of nowhere. Another two of his soldiers were dropped before he could yell out. A human ducked under his wild swing and stabbed the stun spear right into his chest. The impact alone would have winded him but the stun charge laid him out for the count.

+++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++++

Caio wiped dirt from the corner of his eye and picked up the banner. Lane was on the ground, stone cold but he'd be picked up after the exercise. The other four were a bit breathless but elated at having snatched the banner. "We better get going before the rest of them come back" he said. Shouts from further away showed that was a foregone conclusion. "Time to leg it"

The banner tucked under his arm, he broke into a run, heading back for cover. They'd a long run yet ahead of them if they were to get back with the banner.

 

[Matt the Radar Tech]

Sun-Shin Tae | Drexel Quinn | Jaida Tess | Vernon Hectis | Masayu Kimura | Kim Dae-Hyun | Karisa | Fevris Derzelas

​

Mitth'orn'eruod placed his drained mug down, as he reached up to wipe at his mouth with the back of his hand. The froth from the beverage had been thicker on that round, and his situation was already verging on inappropriate for an officer in the First Order, so having a froth mustache was simply out of the question. Opposite, the Solemite finished it's own drink, and slammed the mug down onto the table with force. The green-skinned native grinned with it's large mouth and teeth, as it blinked and tried to center the eyesight. That told Mitth'orn'eruod a great deal, as he calmly decided to speak to the Solemite.

"What is your name?" Mitth'orn'eruod asked in a crisp tone, as he leaned forward and inclined his head. "I am known as Thorne. Your capacity for drinking alcoholic beverages is both startling and impressive, I commend you. Even if you appear to presently have issue with keeping your eyes focused."

The Chiss smirked, as he sat back and watched as another round was poured. He supposed by human standards he would be something akin to buzzed, as they said, but was not quite to the point of drunkenness. Thanks in full to Mitth'orn'eruod's biology, which included a superior metabolism, he would likely be suited to several more rounds of drinks before starting to feel the effects more strongly. With luck, the Chiss would be among those who still remained to claim victory for the First Order, and had since resigned himself to the fact that his spotless military reputation would likely have a smudge on it after today. Still, it was the native host's terms, and one did not turn away a request being a guest to diplomacy.

The mugs were filled, the next round began, and nearby several sentient's spilled or exclaimed things loudly. There were a few other standout individuals who had maintained pace and seemed in control of themselves, for the most part. If things continued well, they would also be on the final stretch of the competition, which would be ideal. Mitth'orn'eruod exhaled slowly, before he picked up the newly filled mug and raised it to his lips. He took several mouthfuls, as he kept his red eyes on his drunk Solemite opponent.

Hm?

From his peripheral, Mitth'orn'eruod noticed a familiar individual who had just arrived. Doctor Derzelas. The Chief Medical Officer stepped into the large hall and turned to speak to another... whom Mitth'orn'eruod knew very, very well. He grimaced inwardly, as he hesitated slightly with the drink in his hand.

Ah. It would seem my beloved Brask'ari'sabosen is here... it is regretful that she will see me in this state.

With a forced smile to his drinking opponent, Mitth'orn'eruod had no choice but to continue, even if it meant his significant other could potentially see him in a poorly light. Hopefully the Captain would have a chance to explain, and for the medical team to not presume it was the navy acting up and being unprofessional.

Hopefully.

 

[Virginia Schnapp]

Virginia took another flare from her belt and cracked it, then advanced into the cave, holding the flare above her. It bathed Virginia, Tremaine, and a few meters around them in wavering red light. After a moment, she held the flare out to Tremaine. "Take this," she murmured. "I'll do the scanning." She paused to work her hands into some protective gloves, then drew her scanner and held it to a mossy rock so that the scanner could get a sample of the moss. The scanner did its work, ticking away until the readout flashed red with a numerical readout. "34% match. Naturally, it wouldn't be so easy as to pop on the first try," she said irritably.

They tracked deeper into the cave, and as they retreated from the light of the cave mouth, the cave became a whole new world. A faint glow emanated from some of the bioluminescent lichen in the cave. In the distance, she heard dripping, as if there was a lake just waiting to pour into the cavern if the rocks slid just the right way. It was peaceful, if slightly unnerving.

Was it her imagination, or was there something skittering deeper into the cave? Her pulse quickened as she bent to test another planet. 38%. "Damn," she said to Tremaine. The light was beginning to flicker. "Pop another flare," she said.

 

[Kim Dae-Hyun]

"Himme," said Dae, slamming the glass back down on the bartop with a resounding thwack!

The barkeep looked at him dubiously, polishing another glass with a clean towel. DK glowered at him, but the Solemite barkeep just blinked placidly at him.

"Himme," said Dae again, adding a polite but slurred: "Pliss."

The barkeep put the glass down and flapped the towel over his shoulder, glancing down the bar at his associate before turning his attention back to the pilot. "Sorry, don't understand you," the Solemite said after a moment.

DK sighed and pushed himself up from the bar. He waited for the room to steady itself, then raised a hand. "Sir'maskin' you t'please himme. Himme!" When the Solemite leaned forward, still clearly not understanding, DK steeled himself and shook his head, as if he could make himself less drunk -- and thus, more comprehensible, by so doing. "Hit me!" he said.

Again the bartender glanced down the bar, exchanging shrugs with his associate, before he punched DK in the face. DK reeled, staggering backwards. For a moment it looked like he'd collapse backwards, but alcohol seemed to interfere with physics, and somehow he managed to stay on his feet, looking like a 7 before straightening. He stood in stunned silence for a moment, then threw his head back and roared with laughter. The Solemite barkeep stared, unsure whether his patron was all there, but eventually joined the laughter.

DK finally settled back into his stool and gingerly touched the rapidly-developing shiner on his left eye. "Friend," he said, suddenly feeling remarkably sober, "You should know that when someone says 'hit me' in a bar they usually mean 'another round, please'." He pushed his glass forward and looked up at the barkeep. "Another round, please. And a glass of ice, if it's no trouble."

The barkeep delivered both, and a towel. "Got some blood," he said, touching his own nose to indicate where. "Probably not fatal."

 

[Resurgent Narrative]

GO FOR THE MASKS!​

​

Tanileu managed to hear that out of a sea of UNCE UNCE UNCE UNCE. "MASKS!" Shouted the Commando toward her team and together they went to work pulling the masks off their targets. The commando didn't bother looking for long at what happened afterward, she was more or less focused on the task at hand. If the scouts were still around they were either gone beyond belief mentally or were dead to the acid, perhaps all of the above. At the moment this boat party felt more organized and malicious than at first glance, but that wasn't in question anymore.​

​

"Any luck with the scouts?" She called ahead but hope was slim at this point of ever finding them, alive at this point.​

​

This was definitely a forever party, and all the while Tanileu was trying to figure out an angle here. Why get all these people aboard, what did they all have in common? Maybe it wasn't good to dwell on such a thing, but she dwelled on it nonetheless and pressed onward her team keeping pace with Dresden Verbrennung 's team. ​

​

 

[Sun-Shin Tae]

​

Captain Sun-Shin had slammed another down, and honestly everything was starting to get crossed. Blurred, and she wasn't sure that standing up would be a great idea. However, as she looked across the table, the Solemites weren't doing so hot either, and as she moved to wave for another drink. A gun fired into the air and she sat straight up in her chair and looked toward the one holding the gun. The competition was over, and as she looked it seemed as if the Solemites were down more people than the First Order.​

​

Did they lose on purpose?​

​

"The stamina, the perseverance displayed by these Imperials is something to remember!" Shouted someone beside the guy with the gun. Sun-Shin had no idea who they were, "and with the games going as well as they are! Solem is PROUD TO JOIN THE FIRST ORDER!" Proclaimed whoever this big guy was.​

​

He smiled and moved to pat each one of the Imperials on the back and hand them something, and she wondered if it was one of those smelling salts because if it was oooh boy. Sun-Shin wondered if there was some sort of malicious intent but the others, the Solemites took them too and cracked them open. Oh... they were definitely smelling salts.​

​

Nevertheless it was good thing Medical had arrived to help escort the naval officers and pilots. ​

​

Matt the Radar Tech | Vernon Hectis | Karisa | Fevris Derzelas | Kim Dae-Hyun | Drexel Quinn | Jaida Tess | Masayu Kimura ​

 

[Matt the Radar Tech]

Sun-Shin Tae | Drexel Quinn | Jaida Tess | Vernon Hectis | Masayu Kimura | Kim Dae-Hyun | Karisa | Fevris Derzelas

​

Mitth'orn'eruod could feel the alcohol now. His vision had started to blur, his mind had started to compensate with hyper-stimulation, and his posture had eased somewhat in comparison to his usual rigidness. Biologically the Chiss knew what was happening inside his body, the effects of alcohol and similar beverages, and he could feel the stimulating effects as well as the lessening of inhibitions. Dopamine had been released, so Mitth'orn'eruod felt good, though he also knew that would be a temporary state once the served substance continued to saturate his bloodstream.

Across the way, the Solemite drinking opponent toppled forward. Mitth'orn'eruod smiled, as he finished his mug, then placed it back on the table empty. Along the line a number of the large green aliens had likewise fallen into their cups, as it were, and it seemed that the First Order had more upright. Not necessarily steady, but certainly upright. Though to be fair, even Mitth'orn'eruod's keen vision had started to fail him, as he blinked his glowing red eyes several times to see who remained of his colleagues.

Suddenly a gunshot sounded.

An attack!

Mitth'orn'eruod reached down for his own concealed charric blaster, as his fingers fumbled. The delay in response was a fortunate thing, it seemed, as one of the overseers of the competition proclaimed the First Order the winners of the drinking contest. It might have been awkward to have shot that person in response to an incorrectly perceived attack. So, it seemed the dampening in Mitth'orn'eruod's responses had been a positive this time, as he relaxed and continued to stare along the long table with a hunch to his seating.

I've certainly had an increase in the effects of the inhibitory transmitter Gamma-Aminobutyric Acid in my cerebrum, Mitth'orn'eruod thought as he was passed a small package by a Solemite. He looked down at it curiously. I daresay my movements and speech will be likewise lethargic and will clearly display my level of inebriation... very unprofessional, I will attempt to avoid embarrassing myself further.

So it was best Mitth'orn'eruod remained seated. At least for now. He also chose not to partake in the smelling salts, as he looked toward the others of the First Order to see how they fared...

 

[Dresden Verbrennung]

​

Slowly but surely, they fought their way across the dance floor to the pilot's station. As they went, more and more of the First Order troopers made their way across. Most were successful, but a few wound up in the drink, their screams drowned out by the throbbing bass. The boat's pilot was completely oblivious to anything outside of his screens. He didn't even realize that Dresden was towering over him, and never saw the foot that booted him out of his seat and left him in an unconscious on the deck.

The trio of agents quickly cut the engines and the music. It was like a spell was broken. The stunned revelers looked around in shocked disbelief as they were beaten and bludgeoned to the deck. The ones who were inclined to offer resistance had already mostly been dispatched in the melee, and the few who were left met quick and sticky ends.

"Control, this is Lead. Objective secured."

The vanguard trio slumped wearily down against the gunwales, chests heaving. Breathing in these damn masks was far harder than it needed to be, Dresden thought to himself. There were plenty of masks on the civilian market that allowed relatively free flow of air, so long as you selected the correct filter beforehand to deal with the relevant threat. The military model could deal with nearly any threat, but it cut the available oxygen intake by more than half. Fights were already exhausting affairs, but now Dresden was trying hard not to pass out or vomit. His head felt light, stars sparkled across his vision, and the ringing in his ears rose to deafening levels. Trip was similarly exhausted, and both of them were soaked with sweat and other, less identifiable fluids. Only Shelly seemed unaffected by the strain, but even Dresden's near nonexistent Force sensitivity could feel the cosmic energy pouring into her.

There was nothing to do now but to wait. If it wasn't for years of operational experience that told the agent that it wasn't over until they were back on the dropship, he'd have closed is eyes an gone to sleep. As it was, he settled for trying to breathe deeply against the resistance of his mask.

For his first mission as a Senior Agent In Charge, he had to admit, this raid had gone better than expected. There were mistakes, and plenty of areas to improve, but overall, it had gone well. Hopefully, that spelled good things for the future.

 

[Virginia Schnapp]

They wandered further into the cave. The cave took a turn, and the mouth disappeared, plunging the cave into darkness but for the dim bioluminescence and the bright, crackling neon of the flares. She knelt to scan another plant, this one a large, floppy mushroom with faint veins of blue glowing through it. The scanner spat a reading of 45% compatibility. "Getting closer," she informed Tremaine. "Or maybe not. I'm not a scientist."

They continued on, burning through their flares and leaving a breadcrumb trail of them back to the cave entrance. Neither Tremaine nor Virginia had any interest in being trapped in the dark because they couldn't find their way back. Virginia paused every few minutes to scan a planet and, whether by chance or design or sheer biology, the numbers kept ticking up the deeper they went, towards the magic number of 80%.

Finally, they found a moss that weighed in at 86% compatible. "Score," said Virginia. She seized a handful of the moss and tore it from the rock, stuffing it into a specimen bag. Tremaine was already turned, ready to leave the cave. In retrospect that was smart, because the skittering sound that had been nagging at their progress so far was getting louder and it was getting closer. With the specimen bag sealed, she and Tremaine locked eyes and said "Run," in unison, and began picking their way across the uneven surface of the cavern, hurtling towards the cave entrance.

When they emerged from the cave, shouting warnings to the others to get ready to fire, some unidentified species of creepy-crawly was following, all legs and antennae and pulsating, sectioned bodies. She didn't know how many there were, because they seemed to shrink from the sunlight, steaming. Thank God. She leaned against the skiff, panting heavily, and watched as the critter (or critters) retreated back into the cave, until the hissing, skittering mass could no longer be heard.

She keyed her comlink to report back to Graham. "Mission accomplished," she said. "We'll drop off the sample ASAP."