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All I See Are Familiar Faces.... | The First Order and Galactic Empire

Prefsbelt Commander

Location: L-49 Hex; The Hydian Way Defence Station; Primary Command Centre
Time: 2243 - Local Station Time
Duty Shift: 4
XO On Shift: Capt. Gallow, Heinz

POV: Esgn. Dieet, Aleksander
Alert Level: Yellow
Musical Interlude: Outside Perimeter | Ratchet and Clank OST [X]

Ensign Aleksander Dieet fiddled with the code cylinder in his gloved hands, as he watched the surrounds of the station. The Hydian Bastion, or Bastion as she was called more colloquially was experiencing a visit, one of great import. Imperator, Grand Admiral Carlyle Rausgeber had returned the sector command. While, officially security was meant to be on highest alert with the arrival of the Sixth Fleets leader, the crew of the Bastion took a different view. The massive battlecruisers, and destroyers, which now circled the station provided all the security they ever needed. Each of them, crossing the viewport, out the corner of the crews eyes. Like vigilant protectors, or predators.

But for the Ensign, after three months of late night shifts, Aleksander felt he was entitled to some comforts. Be it just a couple of minutes at the end of a shift to just, unwind. Even if it were in the most mundane possible. The Cloud City native starred into the shiny silver of the metallic cylinder, as it danced around his fingers. Just another seventeen and he was able to pack it in. Working the COMMSEC system was the worst at times like this. Most of the other commands from other sectors that the Bastion relied on for comms were dead.Their crews either in a similar position, or delegated the task to automated systems. Even then, the only messages worth noting were the hazard reports from the probes and weather drones. Automated weather and hazard reports that were broadcast to all vessel anyways.

Even then Dieet questioned the need. All the spacers worth their spice that came through all knew the time of month it was for the Hydian Way. Nebula season. Massive gas clouds which would come toward the station, and obscure perimeter sensors. Nothing too bad. But, that didn't stop the damned TIE jockeys from playing games of peek-a-boo with the sensors in the encroaching gas.

The low blue light of his terminal left a pale glow on the Ensigns face, as he continued the mundane task. Something to keep him busy. It was then, the message and beep was sounded. Dieet was caught off guard, and nearly fell from his chair. He neatly slid the code cylinder into its pouch, and hunched over the terminal. He could feel the eyes of the rest of the on duty crew glaring at his back. Nothing ever beeped at this terminal. Only reason would be... would be...Could it be? Dieet read over the message again and again, trying to make sense of it all.


Hyperspace Anomaly Detected By BUOY 7

Calculated Trajectory: Intercept with HYDIAN WAY DEFENCE PLATFORM

Predicted Size Of Anomaly: 9 PYRAMETERS X 10 PYRAMETERS

Advised Action: BLUE ALERT]

"Well?" Captain Gallow barked. The captains previously relaxed demeanour shifted, his voice carried an uneven edge. The entire crews had, as well. Many were but rookies in the academy during the Ison Corridor, hell, Gallow earned their stripes there. But none wanted something like this. Dieet froze, terrified. His voice was dry, and he had grown somehow paler beneath their gaze. "Say something!" Gallow commanded, his tone more frantic, "What the kark is happening?!"

"We have contact..." Dieet whimpered.


Location: L-49 Hex; The Hydian Bastion; Primary Command Centre
Time: 2322 - Local Station Time
Duty Shift: Emergency Procedure
XO On Deck: G.Adm. Rausgeber, Carlyle

POV: G.Adm. Rausgeber, Carlyle
Alert Level: BLUE

Skull Squadron brushed past Commodore Antoine Starr with their charge. "Grand Admiral Rausgeber, I assure you, my men are as ready as anything for any eventuality." The officer asserted. He was still trying to put his uniform together, as he attempted to keep up with the automaton, "But the fact is, is that given our intelligence, the Alliance, simply doesn't have the capability to move a fleet that large around our forces, and without our knowledge," Starr asserted, as he followed the Grand Admiral and his FOSB praetorians onto the command deck, "Its impossible. What has happened, is probably a sensor failure, or a-"

The man stood to attention as Rausgeber put up his hand, fist clenched. "No, Commodore," Rausgeber smoothly replied, "Even if this is any form of failure in regards to our sensor net, we must still be on guard," The droid lectured, not even giving Starr the time of day to face the man. Instead, the droid continued on his course, discussing the matter as he moved to the command station. "And as this command, comes under my own jurisdiction, I would appreciate, you not to undermine that."

Starr bit his lip, and stood rigidly, "Understood, Grand Admiral." The Commodore bitterly replied, "It was not my place." He bowed his head, as the FOSB troopers, now fanned out, and took up positions around the room, weapons easily distinguishable, even in the dark of the command deck. Rausgeber continued forward, and looked over the massive commanders screen, watching the data displays like a hawk. Sitting prominently on the screen, was the projected route, and time of arrival. Rausgeber checked his own internal clock. Curiously, whatever it was, had come late.

Rausgeber gazed around the room, before his screen settled upon the lieutenant seated at the sensor console. "Lieutenant," Rausgeber began, "Do we have sensor readings?" The Grand Admiral inquired. The lieutenant looked at his terminal, and seven times, attempted to recalibrate, each time becoming increasingly frustrated with his station.

After a near minute of waiting, the lieutenant turned, and met Carlyle's gaze. "Negative sir, the nebula clouds are jamming our senors." The droid glared. As much as he was pained to admit it, perhaps Starr had been correct. Maybe there was nothing out there. Starr was of course right. The possibility of an Alliance attack, here, and now, was, well, negligible. Less than negligible if the readings of his onboard tactical computer were to be taken into account.

Rausgeber was set to dismiss the man, when something caught his, and the rest of the crews attention. "I see something!" A voice cried out. The entire command deck was captivated at the source. On the starboard side of the station, an officer had dropped his datapad, shattering his screen. But he was caught, looking at the window. "Out there!" He continued, nearly bounding, his finger, jabbing at the glass. There was a pause, and it took a moment of recognition. There was a vessel. A massive one.

"Action stations!" Starr barked, "Get the guns ready, to fire into the nebula for full effect!" He snapped. "TIE's to their stations and all vessels in pattern delta!" The crew of the Bastion took no time to process the order. This is what many of them had been waiting for. War. Adrenaline and testosterone ran high as the navy men embarked to their positions. Even the disciplined, and silent Skull Squadron raised their weapons, ready to charge, furlong into battle.

"Belay that!
" Rausgeber thundered, over the sound of Commodore Starr. The machinations of the First Order war machine now screeched to a halt and now eyed the dead man, uneasily, "Diplomacy," Carlyle began, in a soothing tone, "Diplomacy shall be our venture," He then paused, "Hail the vessel," Rausgeber began, "But do not wait for them to strike us first, raise shields and have the gunners at their posts."

"We will see what our visitors want."

[member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="Madelyn Lowe"] | [member="Samka Derith"]

Taa Nul

CEO of Kamigen Incorporated

The large hull of the imperial flagship Pellaeon emerged from the Nebula, casting a large shadow over the Hydian Way Defence Station. The massive vessel came to a halt, it's shields currently lowered and weapons not readied, a sign perhaps that they had arrived under peaceful intent. Upon the bridge of the Pellaeon, the Grand Inquisitor gazed silently for a while at the station before him, hands grasping one another behind his back while he stood in thought. Eventually, he turned to face the bridge communication's officer. "Hail them. Holographic communication.", he said, turning to face the large holo-projector in the centre of the bridge. His hologram was transmitted directly to the command centre of the defence station.

"My greetings to you, Grand Admiral. I have long awaited the opportunity to meet you. Your feats of strategic prowess are respected, even far away in Imperial space. Alas, the Empire is in a.....grim situation. I will not regale you with the details over a simple holographic communication. I and a group of...important Imperial officials seek a meeting, if such would be agreeable.", Morcus said politely.

[member="Tanomas Graf"]
[member="The Major"]
[member="Asharad Graush"]
[member="Madelyn Lowe"]
[member="Samka Derith"]

Keyan Mastigar


The Civil War was lost.

A miscalculation by an incompetent general had cost them the edge that they needed to win the war against Tuspin and his ilk. This, mixed with the fact that all efforts to locate where their stolen leader had been taken too had thus far failed, drove the will of the Loyalists into an all-time low; so much so that when the time came for the dictating battle to be fought, they suffered a close defeat. Cardan was not one to just sit by idly as the Empire he fought to maintain was being taken over by traitors, so when the order came for the ultimate contingency, dubbed 'Operation: Cinder' as it had been centuries ago, to be carried out, he acted with terrifying contingency.

Military bases were dismantled in mere hours, space stations thrust into hyperspace, the rest of the Imperial Army garrisoned on the remnants of the Starfleet. The shield gates over Kamino and Scarif were deactivated and ordered to follow the Navy out of Wild Space, with the secretive research projects based on the latter world packed up by Director Caalgen personally. What they couldn't take before the Revolutionaries came, they destroyed with extreme prejudice. Entire worlds were burned, as part of the Imperial Remnant's new scorched earth policy.

This mutually assured destruction had all but annihilated Tuspin's rebellion, Cardan himself had been the one to put the blaster bolt in the traitor's fat head after the Invictus ambushed his shuttle near Pzob. But it came at a devastating cost: The complete and utter collapse of the order that the Galactic Empire had stood to protect. The surviving officers knew that the time had come, the Empire's crusade against the chaotic factions of the Galaxy was over.

They had eclipsed the light, but they could not extinguish it.


Around half of the Imperial Navy had perished in the civil war, both through defection and destruction. What remained now was a mere husk of what was once the largest and most powerful navy in the galaxy, the ships that had survived had portions of their hull missing, taken from them in the battles that had, at their height, included thousands of warships on both sides. They had all been ordered by the grand admiral to depart that region of the galaxy, heading for their only ally in this trying time: The First Order.

At the moment, this mass gathering of ships erupted into realspace, perfectly positioned inside the nebulae. The Epicanthix trusted the First Order and their respective fleets, but it would be unwise for him to play his hand this early on in the negotiations for asylum, but if there was anything that the Order would accept, it was additions to its power. Lord Regent Morcus, left in charge while the Emperor was away, was convinced to take the Pellaeon out of the cloud to greet them, while a cloaked Invictus kept a close watch on their defence network to make sure nothing suspicious came of it, by then revealing itself if the diplomacy went well.

Cardan joined the frequency, his holographic visage appearing next to that of Morcus as the latter spoke, eyeing the inhabitants of the command centre with Rausgeber being the only person he recognized, he had fought with him over Varonat. "We apologize for the abruptness of our arrival, but we can assure you that we bear no hostile intentions," Cardan spoke with great apathy in his voice, "In fact, we are perhaps ready to offer something that could prove useful to the First Order."

Only time would tell what could happen next.

[member="Robogeber"] | [member="Baron Morcus"]

Elijah Brockway

[Insert Clever Joke Here]
Surprisingly enough, Lucan had never once had opportunity to pay a visit to First Order space. Indeed, he'd never even been outside of Galactic Empire space; the late warlord Tuspin had seen to that, personally. Now that he'd transferred himself to Cardan's command, he was grateful for the opportunity to get to experience more of the galaxy than a few parsecs out on the far rim, staring out into intergalactic space. That always made for a dim sight.

Looking out the viewports, Lucan considered the nebula that he was currently hiding in, along with the remnants of the Imperial Navy, to be a far more interesting backdrop. "We always have to look for the small blessings, don't we?" he mused quietly, prompting one of his bridge officers to look at him questioningly. Lucan ignored the man, looking out at the rest of the fleet that he could see nearby. Between Tuspin's traitor forces, and the good men, women, and ships that the loyalists lost fighting them, the fleet had suffered; Tanomas Graf had yet to be found, and the Empire had fallen.

But the fleet survived; Lucan himself survived, able to continue serving the ideals he believed in.

And the nebula was quite beautiful.

"Sir, the Existentiality has taken position at our stern," one of his officers said, breaking him out of his contemplation. "Very good," he replied, turning from the viewport and walking back down the command walkway. His eyes flashed over the pit on either side, looking over the men and women working under him; many of them had been reassigned from different ships, either narrow survivors from destroyed craft or the crew from those that were dismantled in order to repair others still in operation.

Upon arriving at the communications consoles, the thought struck him that the majority of them were likely as inexperienced in commanding such a large craft as he was himself. "Have the rest of the fleet taken their positions?" "Yes, Captain Sirrad," his officer replied, the man's eyes flashing over the incoming transmissions from the numerous ships. "Good. Hopefully our allies will be willing to receive us." He looked over the console himself, nodding slightly as he read off the names of the ships that had checked in.

"Inform the technicians that they are to prepare my personal shuttle," he commanded after a moment, straightening. "Once I receive confirmation from Cardan or Morcus I'll be leaving to join them on the station." The comm officer nodded, relaying the command while Lucan walked away, back out to the viewport. The concept of engaging in anything remotely resembling diplomacy made him somewhat nervous. He preferred to battle with turbolasers and missiles, rather than with words and contracts. The latter made him feel rather out of his element.

Best just to enjoy the sight until you can't, Lucan.

[member="Gromm Cardan"] [member="Baron Morcus"] [member="Robogeber"]
Prefsbelt Commander

Location: Hydian Way Defence Station; Command Deck
Time: 2245, Local Station Time
Duty Shift: Emergency Procedure
XO On Deck: G.Adm Rausgeber, Carlyle
POV: G.Adm Rausgeber, Carlyle
Alert Level: BLUE
Galactic Empire Emissaries: "[member="Baron Morcus"]", G.Adm [member="Gromm Cardan"], Assorted Galactic Empire Personnel [[member="Lucan Sirrad"]]
First Order VIPS: G.Moff Fortan, Natasi
Musical Interlude: Aggression | Hearts of Iron IV [X]


Rausgeber watched and waited for any incoming reply. Skull Squadron's CO, approached, and attached the Grand Admiral to the nearby holoconference table, as was standard procedure. Deft hands attached the cord, to his personality matrix, beneath his uniform, before the agent slunk back to the Grand Admiral's flank. The following moments were agonisingly long, and dragged for what seemed to be hours on end. Each man and woman's breathes drew slower. Their hearts raced, and beads of sweat coalesced on foreheads. The silence was cracked, by a short interuption. "Grand Admiral, transmission on line three!" A Midshipman barked.

There needed to be no form of command. Two holograms flickered onto screen. That, of Gromm Cardan. A strong, stout officer from that of the Galactic Empire. The two briefly crossed paths at Varonat, during the repatriation of Galactic Empire's dead and wounded, as well as the ensuing abortion of a battle. While the other man, was, something different. Something foreign. An old, decrepit man. One who presumed to know Rausgeber's identity and his record. Interesting. To the two men, four officers would be broadcast to them. Commodore Starr, Captain Gallow, Colonel Asa Greye, the head of station security, and finally, Rausgeber. With the last member of the party sitting in "human" form. Lean, greying blonde hair, with pale skin. The men listened to the proposition. Their faces emotionless, as they took in the information, before glances then turned to Rausgeber.

The Grand Admiral gave pause to thought about the proposition, before he made an ultimate decision. "Your unanticipated arrival," Rausgeber coolly began, his voice now lacking the artificial tinge which poisoned all his words. "Does mean we will have to take some security precautions," The Grand Admiral continued coldly, "We will discuss your offer in person," The droid informed the duo, "But you will come as guests of my....hospitality," His words hung in the air. It was clear despite the friendly relationship, it was, in the eyes of the Imperator, a temperamental affair.

"A small party of yourselves, and any senior dignitaries who are interested, will be invited to these negotiations." The droid then paused, "Aboard a single vessel." He added, with a pointed tone. "Once you have deliberated, and selected your crew, hangar bay four will be open to you." The Grand Admiral's human form then looked right into the projector, where he would be starring at both men, in the eyes. A maddened grin pursed the mans lips. "Refusal to acquiesce, would be most disappointing." His voice venomously purred.

The hologram flickered off, and Rausgeber then turned to the associated senior officers who had collected around the table. "Now, we begin to see if there is any conviction to their words." The droid examined his men, "We must maintain our guard," Rausgeber continued, "And have our defences raised. Blue alert shall remain in effect." The droid mused, his attention turned to Greye. The older vixen stood to attention, awaiting command. Her piercing green eyes levelled right at Carlyle's. "Colonel, muster a force, ready in the hangar for the arrival of our guests." The droid delegated, Greye saluted, and moved away from the table, to which Rausgeber's gaze now attended Commodore Antoine Starr. "Commodore, prepare us a suitable meeting room, somewhere away from sensitive areas," The droid ordered, "Now, we must-"

There was another call, which interrupted Carlyle mid-command. "Grand Admiral, priority report sir!" A young Zabraki lieutenant barked to the droid, "Sir, we have a vessel, approximately a parsec away," The lieutenant informed his superior, "It's hailing us via an encrypted channel Grand Admiral. Bearing signal, Avalonia Gold." The screen of the droids face furrowed in confusion, until the realisation hit. This wasn't some ordinary vessel. This wasn't just any code. Avalonia Gold. That meant one thing.

"How intriguing," Rausgeber mused, with a slight chuckle. Smirk, now stretching unto pixelated lips, "Our chief diplomat decides to pop in for a chat as we discuss matters of state," The Grand Admiral then put his hands behind his back, "Direct her vessel to docking bay three." His head turned to Starr, "Commodore, you are to organise the delivery of a briefing for the Grand Moff. I want her able to enter the room, with full clearance and knowledge of whose there, what they do, and how they're doing things. Clear?"

"Crystal." Starr drily responded, with a curt nod of his head, before making his way from the command deck, following the Colonel's suit. This was all very interesting.
long have I waited
[member="Robogeber"] | [member="Baron Morcus"] | [member="Lucan Sirrad"]​
Natasi sat in the pilot's seat of her ship, an Allegro-class Stealth Transport Corvette. She was not much of a pilot, to be sure, with no formal training. Her cousin Pierce had had to give her lessons, but luckily for her -- for both of them, really -- the Allegro-class, in addition to being stealthy and zippy, was also easy to fly, quite by design. It had been designed by Natasi herself, with input on technical specs from experts, to allow her to fly it without needing formal training. Its control scheme was intuitive, and certain functions like takeoff and landing could be automated, to the extent possible. Its interiors were luxuriously appointed without being garish, with quality materials. It was sleek, nimble, and elegant.

Not unlike myself, Natasi thought, a wry smirk coming to her lips. It wasn't true, but the wordsmithing was enjoyable. Natasi didn't feel sleek and nimble. Her seclusion on Galidraan had done her good, allowed her to work through her grief at the death of her husband and to reorder her priorities, but one could only sit in a silence broken only by the occasional clink of a fine bone teacup against a fine bone saucer for so long. She was used to doing things, being at the center of the action. A narrow attempt at political assassination by certain members of her Moff Council had nearly sunk her, and she had needed time to search her soul on that score as well. Natasi had taken a leave of absence, but after some indeterminant weeks collecting herself, she was ready to return.

She did miss George, though. She had left her infant son in the care of those she trusted -- he was not safe alone on Galidraan, nor on Dosuun, so she had dispatched him to an undisclosed location with trusted guardians. As much as she longed to cradle him against her, his safety was paramount; the heirs to both Herevan and Foxfield, he would be a powerful figure in Galidraani circles, not to mention his potential standing within the First Order. So she was quite alone; Banks and Hendersmith would follow when George was safely delivered.

And her timing couldn't have been more precise. No sooner had she arrived in-system, preparing to dock at the defense station to update her passport had Imperial ships entered the system. This had caused her pulse to quicken. She decided against deactivating the ship's stealth functions and instead hailed the First Order defense station with her clearance. She was pleased when she was given instructions. "Affirmative, Station One," Natasi signaled back to the ship. "Preparing to land. Request tractor-beam assistance." She maneuvered the Allegro-class -- still unnamed, for Natasi had yet to alight upon an appropriate moniker -- to bay three and initiated tractor-assisted landing procedures.

Natasi wore a structured but simple black dress, covered by a high-necked black traveling cloak, over polished black high heels. Her only embellishment was a polished jet hairpin and her wedding ring, a delicate platinum band. This, she assumed, would be proper attire in a First Order facility -- black and reasonably modest was usually a safe bet. She opened the ramp and strolled down, pleased to see a contingent of stormtroopers standing at attention -- but where was the commander of the base to greet her? She frowned inwardly and scanned the bay as she descended the ramp. Bay three was small -- not the showstopper. She knew her ship was smaller than her last personal transport, but did that warrant any less deference? Natasi cleared her throat, put on a smile, and switched her handbag from one hand to the other, to free her right hand for shaking, which she went about doing with the cadre of stormtroopers flanking the ship's ramp while waiting for the receiving party.

Gladhanding and giving encouraging words to 'our boys' and basking in the warmth of their mutual admiration -- to Natasi it was as if she had never left. Her smile broadened.
Inactive Character Account

Kyli DT-6767
Hydian Way Defence Station, Hanger Bay Three.

Kyli shifts her immense armoured weight around slightly standing at the end of a hall lined with stormtroopers clad in their distinctive stark white armour on both the Death Trooper's Flanks. Looming behind a silvery visor is Kyli's hazel eyes she studies the lowering Spacecraft out of curiosity not being of a First Imperial design she was familiar with concluding the vessel had to be privately owned by Grand Moff Fortan rumour had it there had been an attempt on the woman's position by members within the council no less. Musing inwardly Kyli thought the Moff Council had become filled with politicking bureaucrats instead of warriors who led by example but Grand Moff Fortan at the very least possessed something most senior officers lacked; courage. Despite that they had never met Kyli had a begrudging respect for Natasi due to the Moff's undeniable bravery as demonstrated by the well-known and publicised appearances of the Grand Moff at pivotal battles. Wondering silently on whether Natasi's appearance here was planned or convenient coincidence Kyli couldn't come an a resolution on this fact for certain though suspected the former. Stepping forward the near seven foot tall Supersoldier clad in her matte black Powered Assault Armour dwarfs the surrounding Stormtroopers and greets Natasi with a dry politeness stereotypical of Stormtroopers who had been raised from their juvenile years to be warriors, though there is a certain calmness in tone that even hardened stormtroopers found unnerving as if the Death Trooper had been drained of any distinguishable Human emotion. Relenting from shaking the Moff's hand Kyli focuses instead on protecting her temporary charge. "Your Excellency, welcome aboard the Hydian Bastion. I am Kyli, Death Trooper Sixty-Seven Sixty-Seven. Apologies, Grand Admiral Rausgeber is currently occupied with a matter that will no doubt require your attention shortly."

The Death Trooper Pauses and pivots in those magnetically sealed boots in a pair of precise movements with an impressive co-ordination despite the armour's bulk which most would make the mistake of believing it might have hindered speed or mobility. Gesturing towards the Hanger's exit with left-hand, bringing it away from rifle with the now alone supporting hand and arm not buckling an inch under the rifle's higher than average weight, Kyli's eyes continue to track the Grand Moff's head from behind that silvery visor. Studying the Stormtroopers and Junior Navy Officers within the Hanger, Kyli cannot help but wordlessly remark on the outward warmth she could 'see' beaming through their armour with statures just that little bit straighter atleast appeared as if impressing the Grand Moff is a matter of paramount importance despite hasty manner in which this parade was assembled. Kyli waits to follow Natasi towards Hanger Bay Three's exit, not daring to take a stride before the First Order's esteemed Grand Moff instead the Death Trooper's positions herself in such close proximity to the Grand Moff one might find such an armoured soldier's presence comforting. Kyli's body language suggested to the trained eye that she considered protecting Natasi to be of high importance, prepared to protect the finely dressed woman from any threats. Quietly releasing a sigh down through narrowed nostrils, Kyli had hoped that the Klaxsons sounding throughout the station might have indicated an attack which needed to be repulsed while protecting dignitaries as distinguished as Grand Moff Fortan wasn't as fun it was certainly just as important to the Death Trooper and it shows through Kyli's protective posturing clear that even aboard a First Order space station she wasn't prepared to be careless.

[member="Natasi Fortan"] [member="Robogeber"] [member="Lucan Sirrad"] [member="Gromm Cardan"] [member="Baron Morcus"]
A New Beginning
Model D Deliberate-Class Corvette, The Azure Sky.
Enroute from Dagobah to Varonat.

Madelyn's personal quarters were stylish yet lacked personality. The carpeted floor was rich and plain, the paintings on the wall had been carefully selected to contrast the cream wallpaper that'd been pasted over the stark metal walls. Each plush chair was beautifully crafted and supremely uncomfortable. A crytal chandelier draped from the ceiling and cast crytal beams that wavered with the trembling of the vessel. Madelyn herself sat on the edge of the four posted bed, slipping her feet into a pair of polished shoes.

Wandering absentmindedly, the Governor slipped out of her quarters and made her way up the narrow hall, her slender hands gripping the bronze handrail for support. She'd spent the last hours poring over yet another proposed defence initiative. With the Alliance crumbling before them, everyone seemed to have an idea of what they could do to capitalise on the opportunity. Madelyn had spent the last days racing back and forth to meet with military and government officials alike, each spare moment spent examining and debating over this proposal or that mandate. One thing stuck in her mind: Whatever was ahead, it was a turning point.

Her meandering walk took her to the galley, where she leaned heavily against the shining countertop and rubbed her weary eyes. She jumped when the intercom above her head crackled, and a smooth voice from the cockpit filled the room, punctuated with the hiss and crackle of the microphone.

"Governor Lowe, we're expecting a delay in our journey. There seems to be trouble at the Hydian Way Defence Platform." Trouble? For a station the size of the Hydian Bastion there was little more than a full-scale invasion that would constitute 'trouble.' With a sigh, Madelyn walked to the terminal on the wall, her finger pressing down the transmit button. "I'm coming up." She said, unable to keep the weary sigh from her voice.

"Yes ma'am." Came the curt reply.

Climbing unceremoniously up the ladder to the cockpit, Madelyn habitually smoothed the invisible creases in her conservative grey dress. Her hair was neatly pinned back, but nevertheless showed the signs of neglect from travel.


"Yes ma'am. The Hydian Bastion sent out a message to imbound traffic to divert away from the station."

"How far does that put us off-course."

"Well, the nearest resupply point would be Farboon, but we don't have the fuel supplies to make it there, or back to Dagobah for that matter. We'd have to power down and wait for the First Imperial Navy to come to us."

This prompted a deep frown from Madelyn. "Get me a secure communication line with the platform. Who is in command there?"

"That would be Grand Admiral Rausgeber ma'am, the Sixth Fleet are stationed there."

"Very good. Get me a line." Madelyn sat herself in the radio operator's chair as the pilot worked on establishing a connection. A few moments after she donned the headphones, the line was connected with a soft static click.

"This is Governor Madelyn Lowe aboard The Azure Sky. What is the reason for this detour? We need a resupply at the Bastion, and I will not allow my vessel to be stranded in the middle of nowhere for no good reason."

[member="Kyli DT-6767"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Lucan Sirrad"] | [member="Gromm Cardan"] | [member="Baron Morcus"]
long have I waited
"Is it true you wore a full set of our armor at Mustafar?" asked the young officer Natasi was shaking hands with, thumping his white armored chest plate with his free hand.

Natasi's smile broadened a little. "Where did you hear that?" she asked quizzically.

"Heard it from a friend. I thought he was making it up. Bet him a fiver. I mean -- why would you, right? Ma'am?"

"I'm afraid you're out five credits," Natasi said. "It wasn't by choice, I assure you -- but that's because I don't want to give you and your brothers and sisters a bad name. But -- yes -- when my ship was shot down on Mustafar by the Alliance, we were in a situation where if I came out of the wreck in my uniform, I'd be highly visible to the enemy. So, I bundled myself up in some stormtrooper armor. It gave me a whole new respect for the work you do every day. Not only to be professional and precise and brave but to do it all inside that armor -- well, that's nothing short of heroic."

She clapped his upper arm with her free hand and smiled, then made to disengage; the trooper held her hand a moment more and leaned forward. When he spoke, his voice was barely audible. "I was real sorry to hear about your husband, ma'am. We're all pulling for you, and your little'un."

Natasi's smile froze and faltered; it was both unsettling and deeply touching that her personal affairs were being consumed by the masses. "Thank you," she whispered, her voice gravelly. "Thank you, very much. May the Force be with you." He let go of her hand at last, and Natasi gave one last look before moving on. When [member="Kyli DT-6767"] introduced herself, Natasi inclined her head gratefully. "Thank you for the welcome and the update. Inform Grand Admiral Rausgeber that I will expect a briefing as soon as is feasible. Is there somewhere I can get a cup of caff nearby, do you know?" She regarded the Death Trooper with some curiosity; she was not familiar with the project that had created the fearsome soldiers, and rumors about them swirled around them, even in the corridors of the General Ministry, whose employees should know better.

"May I ask what your assignment is here, DT-6767?" she asked casually.

Taa Nul

CEO of Kamigen Incorporated

"Your terms are reasonable, Grand Admiral. We shall depart for the agreed meeting point immediately.", Morcus said politely before ending the transmission. Before he departed the bridge, he spoke to the communication's officer once more. "Inform the Emperor we are departing for the meeting immediately. And be respectful to him when you give him the news. I do not tolerate failure.", he said in a commanding tone of voice, the lowly officer gulping before nodding his head. "Y-Yes sir.", he said, quickly rushing to preform his assigned duty with haste. Morcus then departed the bridge, heading towards the Pellaeon's hangar bay.

When he eventually arrived, he'd be met by several Imperial moffs who had remained loyal to the Emperor during the recent civil war, a contingent of Imperial Death Troopers, and a mysteriously hooded individual in a black robe obscuring his face, who was accompanied by four members of the Imperial Royal Guard. Morcus bowed his head politely, saying nothing for now, before the procession entered the nearby Lambda-class shuttle. The shuttle took off, departing from the hangar escorted by a pair of crimson-painted Royal Guard TIE Interceptors. Security was paramount for the shuttle's important "passenger", after all. The shuttle transmitted it's transponder codes to Reusgeber's flagship, before landing in it's hangar bay. The Death Trooper contingent descended the boarding ramp first, taking parade positions at both sides of it. Next, came the Grand Inquisitor himself, followed closely by the loyalist Moff Council. They gathered at the bottom of the ramp to casually converse, while they awaited whoever the First Order felt appropriate to come and meet them in the hangar, the third part of their retinue still aboard the shuttle...

[member="Natasi Fortan"]
[member="Madelyn Lowe"]
[member="Kyli DT-6767"]
[member="Lucan Sirrad"]
[member="Gromm Cardan"]


I'm just F'n with you!
[ Theme ]
CO: RADM Ephraim Tarkin | XO: CAPT Ina'aren'nuruodo
Outer Rim | Sluis Sector | Hydian Way
-- -- --
Polished boots stepped in unison across the deck of the INV Hammerheart, stern faces and stiff upper lips were a consistent feature as the comm traffic bandied about. The squeak of rubber soles against the sheen of the obsidian deck was subtle as the Rear Admiral came to a halt at the front of the bridge, eyes peering out into the star-specked void. Shimmering light emanated from the station which stood ahead. Silently, Ephraim mused over their situation. It had been a long time coming, and yet here they were. They had survived, they had fought back, they had prevailed - in a sense. Every breath they took was a measure of defiance in the face of their enemies.

"Bring us on line with the Pellaeon. Prepare a skiff."
His words were echoed by the Chiss woman beside him, her tone as cold as ice. It was one of the hallmarks of the Hammerheart, a crew driven by efficiency and obedience to order. While the battle tactics employed by her commanding officer were often better seen in theory, her crew was a testament to their skill in battle. Today however, there was no battle - or at very least, a different kind of battle. Turning on his heel, he made a motion with his hand, feet driving him forward towards the dual turbolifts at the rear of the bridge.

"Captain Garvey, you have the bridge."
From that moment onward, Rear Admiral Tarkin and his second, Captain Ina'aren'nuruodo stepped with a purpose towards his personal skiff. From there they would meet up with the remainder of their command before departing for the station. Ephraim had his reservations but he wouldn't let that get in the way of moving forward.

Their travel had been punctuated only by silence, neither needing to speak to understand exactly where each stood on the matter at hand. Pragmatists, both of them, they'd been quick to rally behind the existing status quo - idealists too, so had it been discovered. Despite their eventual defeat and escape, the Rear Admiral and his XO had never been more singular of mind. They would support the Emperor into the void of chaos should that be their duty. After the obligatory introductions and brief, the two had accompanied the small entourage aboard the station.

Observing carefully, quietly, they made no move forward but instead took up positions behind their superiors and waited for the welcome party. There was much to discuss.

-- -- --
[member="Robogeber"] | [member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Baron Morcus"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Lucan Sirrad"]
[member="Kyli DT-6767"] | [member="Madelyn Lowe"] |

Prefsbelt Commander

Location: Hydian Way Defence Station; Hangar Three
Time: 2257, Local Station Time
Duty Shift: Emergency Procedure
POV: Cmdre. Starr, Antoinn
XO On Deck: G.Adm Rausgeber, Carlyle
Alert Level: BLUE
First Order VIPS: G.Moff [member="Natasi Fortan"] , Spc Ops. @Kyli DT6767

Commodore Starr's arrival to the hangar bay was one with no fanfare. Flanked by two senior stormtroopers, armed with the orange pauldron typical of combat officers. The Commodore paused, and glowered, as he moved into the packed hangar. Due to the nature of the alert, TIE pilots clambered to cockpits, and engineers went to work, preparing for the advent of a new Galactic War. Starr's neck craned around the bay, and he stood, tersely, until he saw a gathering of figures in the corner. Troopers on alert, but out of position? Ridiculous.

Frowning, Starr briskly marched forward, "Alright, alright," The man barked "Enough of this." He commanded, "Back to your stations, we are on blue alert, if I-" And that's when it caught him. The Grand Moff. Starr immediately saluted before the Grand Moff, and stood to attention. "My apologies, Moff Fortan," The Commodore stammered, "Grand Moff Fortan, my apologies," He corrected himself in an apologetic tone. All blood in his face seemingly poured out, and his face went extremely pale, "Grand Admiral Rausgeber requests your immediate presence," The officer continued, attempting to clear blame for this intermission.

"The situation, as it sits, is quite serious," He turned, and moved backwards, gesturing to the hangar bay's exit. "Timing is critical, and there is a lot that must be discussed."


Location: Hydian Way Defence Station; Command Deck
Time: 2254, Local Station Time
Duty Shift: Emergency Procedure
POV: Lt. Bosu, Mavro
XO On Deck: G.Adm Rausgeber, Carlyle
Alert Level: BLUE
First Order VIPS: Gov. [member="Madelyn Lowe"]

Lieutenant Bosu ran a hand through her spikes, as she watched the terminal. She felt her heart pump, and an edge to every moment. A bit of pride swelled for the lieutenant, who had done naught in her short career, besides processing traffic. She had just taken a request for landing from a Moff. Not any Moff. The Grand Moff. She was surely going to tell stories about this when she got back home. The lieutenant's eyes flicked to the outside, watching as the Galactic Empire's vessels appeared through the clouds of gas. Behemoths emerging from the abyss. To say she felt a little anxious about this, would be an understatement.

But her thoughts were carried away, when out the corner of her eye, she recieved a tranmission request. Code Grey. More politicians? Curious. Plugging into the line, the Zabraki was subjected to the voice of one Madelyn Lowe. Varonat's governor. Two in one night? It seemed a bit fantastic. But Mavro was not one to let excitement get ahead of her. "Apologies for the intrusion Governor Lowe," The lieutenant began, "We are experiencing an unanticipated..." She paused, and tried to think about what this in fact was. Was it an invasion? Was it an impromptu diplomatic conference? Who knew.

"Situation," The lieutenant settled upon the word as one which could describe this invasion. "The station is currently under a state of high alert," The lieutenant elaborated. But that would be no excuse for a governor, no less. "For docking, please proceed to hangar four for refuelling." Marvo informed her. "We will have a place ready." Briefly, Marvo muted herself from the conversation, and turned back in her seat, "Someone tell the Grand Admiral, Governor Lowe is about to arrive!"


Location: Hydian Way Defence Station; Command Deck
Time: 2259, Local Station Time
Duty Shift: Emergency Procedure
POV: G.Adm Rausgeber, Carlyle
XO On Deck: G.Adm Rausgeber, Carlyle
Alert Level: BLUE
Galactic Empire VIPS: "[member="Baron Morcus"]" , G.Adm [member="Gromm Cardan"]. Misc Imperial Personnel [@Ephiriam Tarkin, [member="Lucan Sirrad"]]

The cold methodical marching of stormtrooper boots upon durasteel made him feel a sense of pride. An entire three battalions of stormtroopers had been diverted, and now sat in the hangar, blasters in hand. An army of statues. Sat on either side of the designated landing zone. Ready to show this Galactic Empire, their dedication to their craft. To their order. "Your men are certainly something to behold," The droid mused to Colonel Greye, "You should be quite proud."

Greye didn't smile. But the barest hints of a smile did cause her lips to briefly curl. "Thank you Grand Admiral." The Colonel replied, "I would have expected nothing less." The droid turned back to the exit, and examined the room. It was nigh perfect. A true show of true imperialism amongst those who had wavered from Supreme Leader's mission. Greye frowned, and reached for her commlink, listening to something. It did not distract the otherwise daydreaming Grand Admiral, until Greye approached, "Sir, we have another politician coming." The Colonel informed Rausgeber. The droid's neutral tone, and demeanour soured. Another politician to accomodate. Useless pencil pushers. "Governor Lowe of Varonat is docking in hangar four."

Rausgeber scowled, but would not allow this to take away from his moment. "I will await here, if the Galactic Empire party decides to arrive early," Rausgeber informed her, "You, Colonel, shall dispatch a squad to make sure the Governor is taken care of." Carlyle commanded, "Divert her, distract her, do what is necessary." Rausgeber barked, "I do not want more than one of these politicians to undermine my position."
Inactive Character Account

Kyli DT-6767
Hydian Way Defence Station, Hanger Bay Three.

First Order Personnel: [member="Madelyn Lowe"], [member="Natasi Fortan"], [member="Robogeber"],
Galactic Empire Personnel: [member="Baron Morcus"], @Ephraim Tarkin, [member="Gromm Cardan"], [member="Lucan Sirrad"]

Kyli shifts slightly in her powered assault armour and with eyes and head craned down to examine the dwarfed Grand Moff, despite Natasi's dimunuitive stature Kyli couldn't help but feel a sensation of regal power and iron determination radiate from the esteemed officer. Natasi's exploits near and at the front of warfare had earned the woman more than a modicum of respect from the Death Trooper despite her universal disdain for Politicians and Senior officers who were usually far removed both in body and mind from the Stormtrooper's troubles in a combat environment. "Unfortunately the Officer's mess hall is a significant distance from here Ma'am, and the Grand Admiral seems to require your attendance as a matter of urgency." Kyli replies to Natasi's question about the Coffee and easily overcomes the struggle to roll her spheres around in their sockets; typical for a woman of such obviously refined tastes to demand a Coffee Kyli thought in silence, but then again it was also possible the woman hadn't slept or recently rolled out of whatever crypt a Grand Moff called their bed. "Ma'am, I'm with Special Warfare Command, Group Four. This station is simply Group Four's current deployment, our Operations are information security classified so I cannot speak more of them here. Central Command Personnel have ordered that I escort you to the Grand Admiral." Kyli's helmeted head pivots to the intrusion of another voice between Grand Moff Fortan and Death Trooper Sixty-Seven Sixty-Seven with the latter's hazel eyes studying this man keenly, identifying him correctly as a Commodore from the Epaulette insignia. Steadily pivoting the sound of the Death Trooper's boots shifting across the hanger's floor emits a distinctly ceramic scraping sound as if Kyli were some ceramic and steel sculpture rather than a flesh and blood soldier, truly those more superstitious Troopers suspected the First Order's Death Troopers weren't human at all but some grotesque manner of Cyborg. "Commodore, I'll ensure that Grand Moff Fortan speeds at once to the Grand Admiral." Dipping helmet for a moment as a sign of re-assurance to that Navy Officer, Kyli's tone is ever dry and cool which to the fanatic sometimes rung as lax or indifferent to their surroundings but the truth of such a demeanour lay in a careful meditation routine religiously adhered to by this Death Trooper as a means of calming the whispers that scratched and nagged the woman to indulge those most primal and violent urges that coursed in the seedy dark recesses of her mind. Even in this moment a fleeting thought is carried between ears to paint Starr's jet black tunic red for what Kyli's kindly disembodied and evil doppelganger considered a sign of irritating weakness. The First Order created killing machines with Project: AFTERLIFE completely disregarding the moral and ethical questions raised by the potential impacts on the soldier's long term mental health and stability, persistently kept in-check by a constant supply of anti-mutagen and anti-psychotic stims. Despite all of the drawbacks there was no better a bodyguard for individuals of Central Command or the Moff Council than one who didn't perceive pain even from the most gruesome battlefield injuries and capable of tearing apart battle droids with their bare hands in ecstatic and unparalleled rage. Escorting Natasi Fortan down the path elected by Commodore Starr Kyli keeps her rifle held across abdomen tightly with eyes rapidly searching for any sign of aggression or threat even amongst their own personnel especially those she could identify as Army and Navy personnel the former of which she widely dismissed as inefficient amateurs of dubious loyalties when compared to the ruthless and disciplined Stormtrooper Corps where she had stood with pride through all memory.


I'm just F'n with you!
Outer Rim | Avalonia, Dosuun
Number 12, Forselle Drive
FOSB Headquarters | Office of Dante Calgar
-- -- --

Surprisingly efficient though it was, the FOSB had failed him. At least that was how he saw it in the moment. Dante had no doubt that eventually when the strings were followed it was likely that the information had all been there but simply been overlooked. Oft was the case with events such as these - except usually the Minister of Security expected these sorts of failures with the opening punches of a war. This wasn't a war, it barely even qualified as a conflict. No, this was more akin to a homecoming of sorts. As Moff Calgar's eyes scanned the latest incoming report he leaned forward, resting chin in his hand as he pored over the raw data.

The Bureau had agents everywhere, even in the farthest reaches of First Order space. The memory of his first station sent a smirk creeping across his features. Dante owned his fair share of terrible postings, suffered through the mires of Sump, the bitter cold of Hoth. He'd earned a seat on the Moff Council. Or more aptly - he'd taken it. The death of his predecessor had been somewhat suspect but there was no proof of anything, the very next day Calgar had been sworn in and already begun redecorating. Dante didn't suffer the dead. It was how he'd always lived, and it was evident in the way he conducted his business. Whether for loss or gain, no one would forget about Skor and the end of that fated crew. To Dante however, it was a mere footnote in a much larger conversation.

Past aside, Dante spent several more minutes scanning the constantly scrolling data, comparing it with preexisting data. A frown began to develop at the corners of his lips, an eyebrow raised in curiosity as the pieces of the puzzle began to come together. It made sense now. The Hydian Way, what little portion of it cut through First Order space, had just now become the site of an interesting and perhaps monumental occasion. Flipping through another datapad at his desk Dante confirmed his suspicions. *It seems Ms. Fortan has come clawing back to power.*

The Grand Moff and the Minister of Security had an interesting history. It was hard to tell truly if they were friends, allies, rivals, enemies... all of the above. Dante had thought the woman removed, in part by her own acquiescence but also due to increasing pressure upon her office. Dante had seen both sides of that fight with little personal investment except to further his own goals in his bid for power. Now, it seemed, the woman had returned. Reinvigorated if her schedule was anything to go by. Meetings, conferences, public events. Support for the Grand Moff seemed to be back on the rise. Whether that was a good thing or a bad thing he had yet to decide. Keying in a few commands, Dante began typing out a message.

From: Minister of Security, Dante Calgar, Office of
To: Grand Moff, Natasi Vitalis, Office of
Subject: Certification & Security Clearance Update Required

To the Office of Grand Moff, ATTN: Natasi Fortan

In light of your return to office, it is imperative that your security certification is completed and your clearance be reinstated. It is unfortunate that your leave of absence extended just past the cut off for automatic reinstatement and as such will require an interview as well as a re-issuance of security code cylinders. In addition, a full psychological evaluation will need to be filed with the Security Bureau at the earliest possible.

While you may conduct these requirements separately, and on your own time schedule, I would also like to offer the option of conducting all tests and issuance of hardware personally as a favor. In the business of herding governments, it's not often we have the privilege of working continuously with our fellow aspirants. I understand your current disposition, but upon the conclusion of the events unfolding along the Hydian Way, please consider the offer above as I feel it would be beneficial to both the Office of the Grand Moff as well as a step towards total security of the First Order and her Empire.

Dante Calgar, Minister of Security
[member="Natasi Fortan"]​
long have I waited
The Commodore was well-met by the Grand Moff. She accepted his greeting. "It seems like I have my protectors to left and right," she said pleasantly, nodding to [member="Kyli DT-6767"]. "Very well, we'd better get going."

The Grand Moff followed the corridors, listening to the Commodore's brief recap. "Is that it?" Natasi asked quizzically. "The situation is serious? That's all you have for me?" Her dark eyes narrowed somewhat, and she was about to take the man to task when her datapad pinged. She sighed and activated the screen, opening the message to see that it was from none other but [member="Dante Calgar"]. Despite herself, her lips twitched up at the edges. Natasi had never counted Calgar as an ally, but during the skirmish between Natasi and a portion of her cabinet colleagues, he had either remained loyal or covered his tracks well enough that he seemed loyal -- in any case, the Grand Moff had to recognize the man's skill in a crisis.

As they made their way to [member="Robogeber"], Natasi typed out a response:

From: Grand Moff, Natasi Vitalis, Office Of
To: Security Minister, Dante Calgar, Office Of
Subject: RE: Certification & Security Clearance Update Required

My dear Minister Calgar,

I was surprised, which is not to say disappointed, that it took you this long to track my presence in the Hydian Way region. Or perhaps you were giving me space to become reacclimated to a military setting. In any event, I appreciate your patience and your restraint in not disabling my access codes already. It will be my pleasure to interview with you in order to reinstate my access. Perhaps we can include it as part of your performance review. My PPS, Mr. Glass -- copied -- will work with your schedule assistant to find an appropriate time. In the meanwhile, please forward me at your earliest convenience a summary of happenings in the Hydian border zone -- traffic statistics, any armed or unarmed Alliance, Coalition, or unknown forces in the region. Attached is my authorization to temporarily extend my security clearance.

Your prompt attention to this matter is appreciated.

Kind regards,
Natasi Josephine Vitalis
Grand Moff of the First Order