Breaking the Seal {First Order Dominion of Hex E-50}

[The Major]

On the verge of greatness…​

Theme: In the Name of the Tsar (X)


The infinite, star spangled sea peeled apart at various pinpoints, flashing like tiny fireworks against the nebulous purples and black, fathomless voids. From this disturbance was produced a small fleet spread apart in a formation so wide that the naked eye could in no means detect where their fellows might be visually. In total, six vessels deprived of the proud markings of the Imperial Navy flanked to their predetermined positions in the wide net. Spread upon the edges of wedge were a trio of Kerunos class patrol vessels. These had developed something of haunted reputation as a death trap after the folly over Dagobah -especially if the unfortunate souls on board were dressed in the colors of the Security Bureau. Alas, how quickly an aspiring rookie officer is to overlook the loss of nearly a battalion of comrades if it meant their commission to a better command. Almost immediately upon their arrival the various TIE Fighters attached to the underbellies of the ships screeched off to run armed recon of the space between the larger vessels. Next, closer to the center were a pair of of Shadow class corvettes. These wasted no time in engaging their various suites of long range detection and surveillance gear. Inside these, highly caffeinated staff squinted at screens while providing real time updates on the area of operations. While crucial in most cases, monitoring changes to the zone while maneuvering through an asteroid belt composed of potentially deadly objects ranging from raging sportball sized bits up to moon-like chunks further enhanced the meaning of aggressive cartography. In the center of the fleet came a single Nightgaunt Corvette. This presumably was the command vehicle, but no established signal or transmission gave such away.

They sharked their way deeper like the stalking beasts of prey they truly were: precise, ruthless, and fearing little. In but a few short moments they had charted safe hyperspace entrance points in dozens of vectors for use of the inbound task force being called upon to once again set order to an otherwise dangerous place in space. This area on the edge of the Outer Rim Coalition’s hodgepodge jurisdiction they called “controlled” space was particularly notorious for the voracity of its pirates -no doubt the former Alliance’s pet thorn in the First Order’s side, harassing diplomatic envoys (which may or may have not simply been warships marked in such a way) or humanitarian aid convoys (which may or may have not simply been army supplies bound for the skirmishing zones near Lothal). Now, with the so called enlightened center of galactic stability cracked eight ways to Primeday, there was no relief fleet around to save the pirate clans who had absconded to their headquarters in this particular asteroid field.

The First Order would surround the scum with the help of their new friends fresh from the Hell near Kamino, and crush the opposition for their audacity in insulting the sanctity of the true light of order.

A masterclass spy had infiltrated the largest of the clans in the weeks prior to this performance. Their work had revealed the location of a number of sealed warehouses buried under the surface of the largest moon in the field. Hardened to withstand conventional bombardments, this degenerate compound was filled with all sorts of valuables, including a number of artifacts exhumed from the corpse of an ancient Jedi temple. These were being packaged and prepared to be shipped coreward, away from the reach of imperial might temporarily. Thus the signal to take the series of defenses posthaste was sent to command.

Now with the Security Bureau watching on angel’s wings there would be no surprises for the forces converging to spring the trap….

Objective: form a net around the area of operations and ensure none of the pirates are able to escape. The relatively cramped quarters and chaos of this highly packed asteroid field means delicate navigation must be undertaken to avoid unnecessary damage. Sensor readings indicate a number of outposts and secondary strong points. Pirates are likely to have arranged chokepoints and overlapping fields of fire: moving cautiously and in tandem with fellow ships could negate ambushes and reduce risk to battlegroup. Level of aggression and collateral damage mitigation is entirely up to the discretion of the commanders present, although performance will be closely monitored and reviewed post-action.

Intel: Slavers are operating in some of the clans. Various enslaved workers are located across the hardpoints, used as brute force labor to build flash fortifications. One of the larger structures houses a camp in which hundreds of prisoners are processed into forced labor or as entertainment before being attached to gangs. The main warehouse is the only building labeled as critical to operation. Recommend insertion of specialized operatives or organized stormtrooper assault detachment to secure structure and extract agent on site. Enemy at battalion strength in this location. Extreme prejudice in neutralizations highly advised.

 

[Kier Grey]

Kyli DT-6767
Mk. I Single Occupant Atmospheric Insertion Vehicle.

Spoiler: Equipment

• Blackwing Electro-Sword
• C-25 Fragmentation Grenade
• FastTurn-3 Hydrospanner
• G-6E Light Repeating Blaster
• G-12A Blaster Rifle
• Mark/VII DARKSABER [DELTA] Advanced Powered Combat Armour
• Plasma Torch
• Stuncuffs

First Order Personnel: [member="Rexus Wenck"]

"Gods I hate flying." Kyli's hands clutch tightly at a pair of safety handles pressed into the Durasteel of Drop Pod's door affording a narrow star-filled vista with the black jagged silhouettes of those massive rocks floating in the quickly approaching field. Teeth chatter together in the head of the drop pod's charge; a Death Trooper from the First Order's premier Special Forces unit known as "ALPHA". Sitting in her chair the Trooper known as Kyli Dee-Tee Sixty-Seven Sixty-Seven is flanked on either side by a weapon holstered veritcally in their magnetic seats with medical equipment and supplied stored above helmeted head in a sealed contained pressed flush against her drop pod's roof. Each of those Hazel eyes identify and track each asteroid that enters Kyli's field of vision with a predatory acuity that no Human could ever dare to match, it was torture the Pod's nagivation and steering beyond her hands following a pre-programmed flight path in such an environment most would have dismissed as suicide though it was customary for ALPHA to perform the impossible where no others could. Then it is revealed with the Pod humming around the breadth of some small obscuring asteriod the great 'Titan' as it had come to be known during the breifing; a giant moon-sized Asteroid that had allegedly become home to a seedy criminal operation where Slavers utilised an army of their victims plying some Cobalt and Osmium rich mine. Ostensibly the First Order had outlawed the use of 'Slaves' and couldn't permit this to stand, the irony of such a thing occured in Kyli's whirrling mind 'Are we also not slaves to a master?' the Death Trooper privately wonders with the Asteroids surface drawing closer, and closer keen gaze beginning to identify the crater's details. Bracing for Impact those blueish-brown spheres within almond-shaped sockets identify the cave indicated by the Briefing to lead deeper within the Asteroid and into a concealed habitat constructed within her bedrock commanded by a Self-styled "Colonel Gotts" little more than a Pirate Lord and taking such a name to mock Law-abiding and civil peoples whom he plundered shamelessly. The Plundering would end today and Kyli if the gods are willing would strike the killing blow and introduce the man's skull to magnetically contained superheated Tibanna gas, none were lower than those who killed and pillaged for sheer pleasure and sadistic entertainment. Kyli considered herself more than a cut above these creatures, rationalizing that she fought for the unification of all Humanity under the crimson maw where it could be led into a brighter interstellar future and liberated from the Anarchy and Chaos the Pirates, Insurgents and 'Rebels' sought to continue and perpetuate democracies are weak and decadent and with the Pod fast preparing to bury itself into the Asteroid's surface within the lightless void of space she thought.

'They'll all play a part in my wicked work of art' Consumed briefly in the mirth of blissful insanity, Kyli's peach-coloured lips split into a toothy grin gleefully imagining the beautiful demise awaiting those who dared to stand against her with heart pumping and mind thumping; that center of aggression wraps its' malignant fingers around Sixty Seven's consciousness, she is prepared to take the violence to the extreme and destroy the world that stole from them, that world of Chaos would be drowned in a crimson symphony those sentenced in chains will be freed by the Calculating, dark lucid spectre that was Kyli's presence.

 

[Rexus Wenck]

Objective: Operation Cold Sabre
Allies; [member="Kyli DT-6767"] | @Marrisckal Lati
Location: Eastern Mineshaft, Designation "The Pit"

"I don't like her." Twigg muttered as he sealed his helm. "She ain't even 'alf what Luther is." The giant murmured bitterly, "What's she gonna do?" he grunted, as he was squeezed, "Spread her pretty lil legs and-!" Twigg was cut off when Rexus raised his hand. Twigg, about a near half a foot higher, stopped immediately, and stood to attention. Two attendants now began to squeeze the behemoth of a man, into the pod, while Rexus slid the cigarette he'd had in his mouth, onto the cold, durasteel floor. Extinguishing it brutally with a stab of his foot.

"She's obviously a forcie, you dumbarse." Rexus growled as he slid on his helm. "Now, get your ruddy mouth shut, 'fore I shut it for ya." The trooper snarled. Twigg became, somehow more rigid. The implication of mind reading finally occured to the man, as well as the pain of what force users could do. Supreme Leader Graush had definitively left a mark. Satisfied, Rexus moved to his pod, where he was strapped in. He hated this part. Almost more than Twigg who nearly had to be physically shrunk to fit into this damned thing.

The FIV Blade's crew did an immaculate job, given the circumstances of the mission. The Raider-Class stealth corvette, for the purposes of this exercise had been transformed from warship, to transport. With ALPHA, minus Sergeant Ando, and plus, one, mystery woman. All to be shot from the vessels torpedo tubes, into the middle of a wretched hive of scum and villainy.

Such tasks didn't concern Rexus. But rather, excited the man. He was pumped. Hyped to be apart of this mission, and ready to do his damnedest to officiate its completion. But something plagued him. Not the ache of muscles. Or the near nauseating detail in which he consumed his surroundings. No. It was the mystery woman. Officially, she was codenamed Agent Five. But Rexus didn't trust that designation. No one did with the FOSB. Assuming, that was where she was from of course. While he may have been an ALPHA. A freak, designated the number Three on paper, he was someone else. He had a reputation. Feelings. As did the rest of his squad.

But her? That girl? Couldn't trust her. It was as if she'd appeared out of nowhere.

The procedure that was undergone, was one all too familiar for the soldier. Being strapped in. The countdown. He closed his eyes now. And meditated in a sense. Deep, breathes, as he prepared for his job. To be the biggest, toughest sunnuva in this mans army. As they hurtled through space, the Raider-Class disappeared from view, engaging its stealth drive, and preparing to deliver another batch of operatives elsewhere. It wasn't until he felt the visceral force of impact, that his eyes shot open. The pod came to a halt, as he entered the asteroid.

The pod, itself modified with a drill, did not need go far before it finished. It would do so, when its sensors, detected signs of an atmosphere, and when completed, unsealed. "Alright." Rexus began on comms, "ALPHA Three has arrived."

 

[Kyrel Ren]

​

The Ren was in a desperate time within the Order, after undergoing a short schism within the Ren, Kyrel managed to at least become temporary steward and guardian for the Ren. Often still carrying out the will of the Supreme Leader, and making sure his will was done. Kyrel now made sure to still follow that first off by seeing those remnants of the Jedi are either claimed or destroyed by the Ren. When word had reached his ears from the FOSB of Jedi Artifacts, it had quickly caught his interest. These pirates more so he had gathered more intel, and what he had found was even more disturbing. Not only were Jedi Artifacts being held, but the pirates were in league with a shadowy cult known as the "Followers of the Abyss." A cult that had started to gain traction following the fall of the Galactic Alliance, and the subsequent Jedi Purge that followed. Not much was known of the cult, but they had a prize that Kyrel wanted. The Jedi Archivist. An elderly human by the name of Caleb Raan. A man that had narrowly escaped the destruction of the Jedi Temple on Lothal. Now he was the primary target for the Ren, along with the extermination of the cult, and the collection of Jedi Artifacts that remain. Kyrel sat within his quarters staring at the hologram of the elder Jedi Master​

​

The Jedi Master would be the Ren's greatest challenge yet, the man was both skilled and knowledgeable in the Force, like most historians he was not combatting material, but was a threat nonetheless and preferred to be taken alive. Due to an extensive list, he carried of all active members within the Order, possible locations where other surviving Jedi would be found. He had felt extreme excitement swell within him. Soon the Jedi would be for the Ren, and today the Ren would act as strong and as one. Arriving above the planet he had sent a connection through the Force. As if Sieger did to his children, it was as if an older brother called to his siblings. He sent his signature to them all, and soon they would answer his call.​

​

Getting ready, he had finished the final touches to his armor, that was damaged due to the events at the Bastion. Then with a snap-hiss, the helmet was in place. His wounds were still healing, various bacta patches were all over his body, his face was still scarred from the events on Lothal. As soon as his preparations were complete he approached the hanger of the craft he was on. TIE Silencers were brought on board to carry out the first stage which would be destroying anti-aircraft towers, and ground installations to secure air superiority. The next stage would be assaulted on the ground and then attacking the enclave that held the cult, the Jedi Librarian and a passage to the underground vaults.​

​

He walked in a deep stride, ignoring the looks he got from others until he made his way. He waited for those who heard the call to join him, as he couldn't help but appeal to his pilot side of marveling at the fighters that he helped create. There was a time where he could have been a proficient fighter pilot in the navy but the Force had a different path for him. He shook his head trying not to remind him of his past. The man known as Thomas Kyrel was gone and only Kyrel Ren remained. Or as much as he liked to think. He waited patiently for the others to arrive, and give them a short briefing before commencing the mission.​

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[member="Doran Ren"] [member="Varas Ren"] @Marriskcal Latti [member="Racosidae"] [member="Eighth Guard"] [member="Primat Ren"]​

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Spoiler

BYOO Summary:​

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The Knights of Ren have been given a special mission, tracking a separate enclave holding a dark side cult. The Ren is tasked with assaulting the enclave and dealing with pirate, and cult forces alike. With exterminating the cult, and the recovery of Jedi Artifacts. They are also charged with making sure the Jedi Archivist who holds valuable information is kept alive. And is safely transferred back to the Virgillia for further interrogations.​

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[Madelyn Lowe]

Day 1,
13 hours after activation,
HEX E-50,
Operation Cold Saber.

Miniscule gyroscopes and tiny electronic instruments ran a seamless stream of sensory information into Omen’s brain, instant by immeasurable instant they were providing data from the myriad instruments that allowed the droid it inhabited to stand upright, to move, walk and talk.

“Better than sentient.” They’d called it. A complex algorithm that would allow Omen to learn for itself, to define itself. In time, they said, it would blossom into its very own personality. For now, Omen would watch, learn, and grow. Each shred of data the AI would pick up hungrily, quenching itself on the experience of existing. It had a task to complete, assigned by ever-present staff looking on remotely. However, this task was not Omen’s priority.

No, what seemed more important was the pattern of the stars in the void, the lattice of metal that lined the hurtling coffin. The bolts, wires, and shining patterns of the droid vessel it controlled. Omen took it all in with… Curiosity? Or perhaps wonder? Even indifference. A thousand neural pathways forged themselves within its central network like a river delta, each clamouring for attention, to be sorted and filed neatly away. Dutifully, the AI sifted through the rubble, neatly categorising the dust that floated in the vortices around the space, and the interference pattern of the devices competing for space in the metal box.

Presently, the droid was pressed into the confines of a drop-pod, hurtling towards the surface of an asteroid. As the craft followed the others it tore into the surface, Omen braced hydraulic limbs to absorb the shock of the impact, and waited as the pod’s door sprung open, the droid’s scanners already active and searching for immediate threats. Finding none, it disentangled its 8-foot length from the craft, extricating one metal shoulder after the other. Heavily, it stepped onto rough stone ground.

A short message prompt then appeared on the HUDs of the nearby friendly organics.

<: “I AM OMEN. LET'S ESTABLISH A SECURE COMMUNICATION SESSION. HERE IS MY SECURITY KEY. PLEASE PROVIDE VOCAL IDENTIFICATION.” :>

[member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="Kyli DT-6767"]​

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Praetorian Initiate Hopeful
Operation Cold Sabre
Codename: Agent Five
Equipment | Mk. I RAKGHOUL Semi-Powered Battle Armour with Repulsorlift Technology, Training Lightsaber, DE-39 Maser Rifle, Throwing Knives, Binding Wires, Injector Pens filled with Lecepanine
Location | Eastern Mineshaft, Hex E-50
Allies | [member="Kyli DT-6767"], [member="Rexus Wenck"], [member="Omen"]
Status | I'll do my best!

Even since her inception to that of an initiate, life has only gotten busier. Marriskcal often found herself weary, both physically and mentally, by the end of each day. But instead of complaining, the youngling embraced the challenges set before her with a sense of contentment. This is my first step, the first of many to come. The supplementary learning and extra training that was assigned to her only meant that her abilities were acknowledged.

She could only hope that she would continue to meet the expectations they had of her.

This was just another assignment for Marriskcal to further hone and cultivate her skills. She was a member of the Order of Ren, an instrument of the Supreme Leader’s will. The whys and hows of it were not important to her, but if she were to speculate on her instructor’s intention, it would be to familiarise her person with the inner workings of a Special Forces unit. It made perfect sense to the young initiate. After all, it was just a matter of time before she would be expected to provide auxiliary aid or even serve as a vanguard to the First Order’s military forces. And the best way for her to learn was to work with them.

The youngling turned her attention back to her ‘team’ for the duration of this operation. ALPHA, a Special Forces unit that consisted of Death Troopers and an unknown droid. Her briefing pack was short and succinct, and that usually meant that there was a lot more that was not mentioned. Though her natural curiousity was piqued, Marriskcal knew well enough that it was not something she should pry into. None of them had yet to address her in person, and with the force around the two were swirling with distrust, she doubted they would do so unless necessary.

It did not bother her. They were all here to carry out their duties for the advancement of the First Order. Their mutual thoughts and opinions did not matter, so long as they remained professional… though little she caught of what the giant of a male has just said… was vile. It was clear enough to the force sensitive that it was directed to her, the outsider. As this was his first infraction, she would be the bigger person and forgive him for the indiscretion. But if it happened a second time, she would definitely retaliate.

For now, she merely gave the dark-skinned male a bright smile, one that was slightly too wide and bared her teeth in wordless warning. They may think she was young and untried, easy enough a target for hazing. But if they went too far, she would lash out. Her right hand twitched, as she stopped her instinctive reaction to touch the necklace of bruises around her neck, a gift from The Hostile. It was a lesson well-learned. Never again would she hesitate.

Without any further exchange, Marriskcal engaged the battle armour to seal and lock, embracing the firmness of the suit as it compressed around her and the HUD cycled through its systems check at the corner of her eyes. Taking larger than usual steps due to the awkward phase of adjusting to a new equipment, albeit one she has trained in before, the youngling made her way to the pod and allowed the technicians to fuss over her.

Though she presented a calm demeanour in front of the strangers, the blonde was a ball of anxiety and nerves, her stomach twisting itself in knots as the pod took off, launching her through the darkness of space. With only asteroids and the soft blips to accompany her, Marriskcal reviewed her briefing packet once again, flicking through the information of her team’s objective as she channeled her apprehension into something productive.

That was when she felt the tendrils of a now familiar presence reaching out – Master [member="Kyrel Ren"]. A small smile, pleased and shy made its way to her lips as she gave a responding touch through the force. Despite their brief division at Virgillia, the enforcer was still willing to give her a chance and for that, she would always remain grateful for his clemency. A message appeared on her screen, outlining the objectives for all members of the Order of Ren. Memorising it on first read, Marriskcal replied with a concise <Objectives noted>. She will continue on her assigned mission with her team, but if they happen to stumble across any force artifacts or lost Jedi archivist, all the better.

The impact was expected, but it still unsettling to land in such a rough manner. It was only when the doors unsealed with a soft hiss did the blonde unclenched her teeth, her eyes and senses expanding outwards in an attempt to locate both allies and potential hostiles. The lack of presence from the droid and the second message that flashed on her HUD startled Marriskcal. Her only saving grace was that the heavy suit stopped her from twitching too overtly.

“H–Hello, Omen. I’m Agent Five. I look forward to working with you and the rest of team ALPHA,” the blonde said, her still slightly hoarse voice was further distorted by the suit. She gave an exaggerated nod to her team members, which translated to a small nod of her helmet.

 

[Kier Grey]

Kyli DT-6767
Mk. I Single Occupant Atmospheric Insertion Vehicle.

Spoiler: Equipment

• Blackwing Electro-Sword
• C-25 Fragmentation Grenade
• FastTurn-3 Hydrospanner
• G-6E Light Repeating Blaster
• G-12A Blaster Rifle
• Mark/VII DARKSABER [DELTA] Advanced Powered Combat Armour
• Plasma Torch
• Stuncuffs

First Order Personnel: [member="Marriskcal Lati"], [member="Rexus Wenck"], [member="Omen"]

Armed and dangerous the Matte black Phantom pushes forth with feet into that homely cold, dark void and forceless vaccuum with G-12A Blaster Rifle held across abdoment in a grip tight enough to effortlessly crush the esophagus and trachea of any Human; one of the many perks the Project: AFTERLIFE Death Troopers exhibited post augmentation their strength without parallel. With a wordless thought in a nanosecond Kyli's thoughts transmit through the Neutral interface diodes stuck to her temple. The pair of Ion Thrusters placed over either shoulder pivot and their jet streams roar propelling the Death Trooper forward quickly towards her destination, that rock cave that seemed to emit no natural light, shafts of red near infrared light pierce through the lightless veil of space with Kyli's unnaturally sharp eyesight adjusting appropriately. ALPHA's TEAMCOM channel ripples and waves visibly on helmet-mounted display, filled with idle chatter belonging to two pieces of baggage forced upon them for the Operation's duration 'Baby-sitting a normal and a droid is only going to slow us down' For the Death Troopers of ALPHA it was a tested and true statement that they were the best of the Order's soldiers and viewed joint-operations as somewhat beneath them. 'No, Half, Measures' The motto of such a unit of Reapers said it all with no room for unnecessary clemency or hesitation when confronted with a target, something Kyli feared the ostensibly 'Agent Five' would not be prepared to witness.

"All ALPHA Callsigns this is ALPHA-TWO, ingressing on the target now, standby to receive grid Out." Steadily the Death Trooper slows her advanced through the tight confines of this Dark Cave with the end finally coming within sight revealing a large gunmetal gray Durasteel door with some bright lime circular locking mechanism in the center, Kyli's eyes study a terminal embedded within the rock which put the thought into her head that the pirates had been here for a significant length of time if they had sufficient expertise to construct terminals with grounded circuitry. Investigating the menu Kyli cannot help but smirk with great cupidity when it's revealed to the woman its' owners were so arrogant as to not place any security safeguards on an airlock bulkhead. Some message steadily scrawls itself across Kyli's visor obscuring her sight somewhat as the large obnoxious and block font letters shamelessly plaster themselves across the holographic display, providing the Droid full access to the TEAMCOM system as it had just become evident they'd neglected to prior to drop..Sloppy but what could you expect from some tin-can droid? Sixty-Seven preferred her machines to require human input much like those tanks that she once commanded proudly. Activating her distorter while the Airlock cycles behind, Kyli slams her fist into the light above her head and retreats into the dark corner furthest away from the facility's entrance, those Infrared lights around jaw dim to lightlessness anticipating somebody to come and investigate the Airlock's sudden cycling. Like the Reaper Kyli's concealment within shadow is nothing less than perfect both body and mind embraced it in her twisted and maniacal silence, disturbing thoughts oscillate within conscious recesses of mind. Kyli raises her Blaster while she watches those retaining bolts slowly recede into the wall, awaiting her Prey's arrival.

Jyle armed with nothing but a torch loafers forward in his typical gimpish gate pulling that blocky comlink clipped to his left epaulette closer to mouth, depressing the transmission he speaks. "Yeah I'm gonna check it out now, shouldn't be cycling without input Boss." Rounding the Corner he's confronted with the airlock's room where chains hung from the ceiling to aid with the hauling of heavy cargo in and over the cargo elevator on the floor which was now shut. Jyle walks over it and notes that the Airlock's room possessed no functioning light within it. "Gah hell, the filament must have gone on the bloody thing." Waltzing closer he moves over the Airlock's prescipise and makes not a note of that reflection that burns for but a second back through his iris, raising the torch's shaft towards ceiling he hears not the several hundred kilogram beast within the Airlock glide straight past him its' wake coming so close ad nearly to touch him. Lowering his blue orbs with flashlight's gaze he notes tiny pieces of glasteel cover litter the ground; the filament hadn't burned out it had been destroyed. Queuing his Comlink again with thumb Jyle goes to issue a warning shaking his shaggy hair that straddled his cap-straddled head. "Hey Boss, I think the light's been bust-" Jyle feels something plunge into his skin and push straight through that stability rising up spine and rob him of breath and feels his jaw drop while craning sight towards ceiling but cannot push the air up and out of his lungs; diaphragm perforated perfectly on contact. "Busted? Then fix it." A man's voice calls back over the Comlink though Jyle's thoughts were obstructed by anything but the shock of steadily depressing his eyes low and studying the narrow lustrous silver blade now visible through his overalls. In one swift motion his attacker withdraws the blade and Jyle's pelvis flexes outward somewhat struggling to support his own weight Jyle heaves laboriously and sluggishly turns his eyes wide and rasping loudly. Jyle's skin drains of colour whilst his gaze meets a soulless black visage, the Spectre heaved back their left fist slowly with some long dribbling stiletto visible above their knuckles, Jyles heaves one last time and splutters terrified though unable to speak or cry for help the brave miner sadly accepts his fate barely identifying the Warrior's shoulder insignia and its' colours. 'Atleast it isn't a Sith that got me.' The last thought that passes between Jyle's stout ears with Death bringing forth its' weapon in one powerful blow delivered precisely at the bridge of nose his lifeless body fell and landed gracelessly with a loud thud.

The spring-loaded Stiletto blade retracts back up into its' vambrace housing with the wielder's footsteps taking her to the Airlock's control panel leaving her Quarry's body within. Holding G-12A Rifle besides leg she uses sanguine covered gauntlets to enter the 'cycle' order into the Terminal's command line interface, that bulkhead door closes obscuring that maintenance worker's corpse with but a glance being used to ensure the door didn't catch his heel. 'Vent' There is an audible rumbling and then a 'vyoosh' that radiates through the walls around Kyli who then provides an approving nod; jettisoning the man into the cold void of space. It might have seemed insulting had anybody witnessed it but Kyli didn't intend to leave the Asteroid base as a single solid before ALPHA was done here, perhaps this way somebody might recover the poor fool's frozen body and identify him. Sparing not a moment more thought on it she pivots and raises rifle keying the TEAMCOM. "Shadowstar this is ALPHA-TWO, procede to my marker on your heads up display the area has been cleared." 'Shadowstar' was the callsign Kyli assigned this 'Agent Five' prior to their drop onto the Asteroid, the Droid she hoped would also see that diamond which indicated the Death Trooper's position with the encrypted telemetry data transmitting over their comlink channel. They would no doubt find and enter through the same Cave if not necessarily with equal speed for lack of Ion propulsion in such a Vacuum. There was little doubt that if they decided to follow in her footsteps they would witness her first victim's cold corpse float out the Cave's entrance and deeper into the void of space with that horrifyingly beautiful star-filled backdrop behind it.

 

[Rexus Wenck]

Objective: Operation Cold Saber
Allies: [member="Kyli DT-6767"] | [member="Omen"] | [member="Marriskcal Lati"]
Post: II
Location: Cave System, Mine Shaft "The Pit"

Rexus unsealed his pod, and crept from out of the pod. He unclipped his rifle from his pod, and the bandoleer of grenades which he had bought with him. Four thermal detonators, and three VX gas grenades. Deadly in the artificial atmosphere which weakly clung to the air, and mist provided by humidifiers. It was like a fog, which distorted vision. Rexus engaged the scanner of his suit, and it instantly provided him a reading. Weak oxygen levels, followed by carcinogens, and thick moisture content. Interesting.

There was a dull thud, in the distance, which Rexus raised his rifle at. It may have been through the walls of the cave, but was a little too close for the troopers comfort. A beat passed, "Alpha Four, is up." Wenck smiled, Twigg, always late to the bloody party. Rexus' attentions turned to the path ahead. Mining machinary was up ahead, abandoned. It seemed the trooper had found an excellent point of entry, a disused, or at least currently quiet part of the mine.

As he approached, he activated his life sign scanner, hoping to be able to see anyone coming in before they approached. Upon moving to the equipment, it appeared, he was not in a deliberately dug shaft, but rather a collapse. Despite much of the larger equipment being intact, smaller tools were scattered. Seemed this operation wasn't too formal. Didn't really have any professionals running it. Still, upon inspection of the mining diggers, they sure as hell had some kind of cash backing them.

It took but a moment for Rexus to assess where the miners, or at least the survivors, he had seen a flesh stained boulder, crawled out. They'd managed to cut themselves some crevices to crawl up to the main level. It was easy work for the Death Trooper to climb. But the sudden audio, visual flash, caused Rexus to drop, "Kark!" He barked, falling four meters, onto his back. He grimaced at the dull thud caused by the crash, and breathed in deeply as his augmented body attempted to heal. That must've been the fifth member of their team, the droid.

More unknown quanities put the Death Trooper on edge. Did not like it. Not one bit. Especially when they made him fall like that. But he didn't imagine the droid would be that, well advanced. He'd assumed an astromech. Some kind of protocol droid. But apparently, he hadn't listened. Well, actually, he hadn't. Wenck had been too captivated with the cleavage of the FOSB Captain providing the mission parameters for him to truly care. All he'd gotten was the "Don't run in there, screaming Oya while setting the place alight!"

As Rexus began to haul his now healed body up, he heard the unmistakeable voice of Kyli's, providing a waypoint. "Understood," Rexus barked, "A little behind, but I'll be there. Three, out."

 

[Travis Caalgen]

Station Chief Travis Caalgen​

Equipment: Heavy Blaster Pistol - FOSB Uniform​

Location: Nightgaunt - Bridge​

Status: Directing logistics, assisting FOSB agents​

Theme: Apocalypse | Battlefield 1​

​

​

It seemed remarkable that in order to get their star destroyers, once they arrived, safely through the asteroid field they had to travel deep within it themselves. Frankly, it was bewildering that such valuable resources would be buried deep in a bloody moon. That said, the pirates wouldn't be too difficult to clear out, Caalgen himself had personal experience dealing with insurrectionists in asteroid fields, having used his encounter as a demonstration for the prototype Conqueror.

He could only describe his situation as strange; mere months ago he was a decorated shipwright and military director of the Galactic Empire, and only a few weeks ago had he been integrated into the First Order Security Bureau with the rest of the Loyalist espionage crowd, and now he was joining 'Operation Cold Sabre' as one of the lead intelligence officers, or so he was briefed. Nevertheless, even if much of his career revolved around the designing, construction, and implementation of warships and installations, he was still quite capable in the realm of counterinsurgency, surveillance, and all-around intelligence.

The chief observed his staff on the bridge silently, his eyes occasionally flickering to steal a glance at the neverending void beyond the viewports, as they went about ensuring the success of the operation. Every now and again he would take a huff of his cigarillo before addressing one of the junior officers and handing out orders, all the while receiving reports on the on-going operation and 'assets' in use.

According to his data, a squad of death troopers had already done well in infiltrating the objective, but was most peculiar was the addition of some form of artificial intelligence and a child, a Praetorian initiate. Travis gave a scowl, it would appear the First Order still had no shortage of unique individuals, no matter how bizarre their origin or intentions. The man's finger harshly tapped the top of his cigarillo, letting the ash collect near his uniform boots until a cleaner droid cautiously swept it up.

Today was going to be a long day.

[member="The Major"] | @FOSB​

 

[Robogeber]

Post: III
Objective: Operation Gladius
Allies: [member="Lucan Sirrad"] | [member="Gromm Cardan"]
Location: Command Bridge, The FIV Imperator

Grand Admiral Carlyle Edrich Rausgeber watched sets of destroyers, and fighters fanned out across the perimeter for the asteroid field. For the droid, this operation, in the practical sense, bored him. But it was in the realm of politicking, and in terms of demographics, upon which the Imperator found himself carrying far more interest in. The Galactic Empire, or what remained of it, had sent refugees to Sieger's shores. And now, its vast navy was beginning the gargantuan process of incorporating itself within the First Order's already existing command structure.

Currently, there were two men of note, who were to be tested amongst the thousands of ensigns, marines and what have you. But, no. Now command staff were to be incorporated. Gromm Cardan, was one. Former Grand Admiral, now delegated to mere tenure as a commodore. Cardan and Rausgeber had history. The two worked together during the abortive battle of Varonat, and in other endeavours. Yet now, he sat, as not an equal. But rather, as a subordinate.

And then there was Sirrad, who himself was an unknown. From scant dossiers glanced over, he seemed to be, at least, an earnest lieutenant. A captain, now delegated to Commander. But Carlyle was sure that this would not, at least, permanently be the case. No. As precedent showed with the promotion of his own Admiral Anastasi Braisley, and of course Grand Admiral Tregessar, the past of some did not affect their future. But now was time for report. Carlyle's thoughts returned to the present, "Captain Gallow, you will remain in command. Should the need arise, dispatch the Skulls for me."

Gallow, a shorter, gaunt man, who was nonetheless rather young for his position, saluted. "As you wish, Grand Admiral." With the affirmation, Rausgeber departed the command bridge, towards the rear of the structure. Now was the time to call a conference of his officers. To gauge reports, but to also see how his newly found subordinates acted when playing with others. The droid entered, the communications suite, and sat himself by the holographic projection table. Carefully, he keyed in his code, and soon, it was illuminated with the faces, and figures of Battlegroup Imperator. Little under a dozen First Order officers, followed by the two odd ones out. Cardan and Sirrad.

Upon all screens, Rausgeber was projected to them, as his 'physical' form. The droid which housed the conscience of the dead man. Standing, quite smugly with his hands behind his back, Carlyle adopted a cool, and neutral gaze. The First Order officers, raised their right fists, and slammed their chests, before collectively barking, an almighty, "HAIL SIEGER!"

Rausgeber did not reciprocate, and instead got down to business, "Gentlemen, ladies, it is but a matter of time before the FOSB alerts these scum to our presence, how goes our interdiction coverage?"

 

[Armand Temi]

Post 1
Objective: Strike targets from space
Allies: [member="Doran Ren"] [member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="Racosidae"] [member="Eighth Guard"] [member="Primat Ren"]

Delicate navigation - ha!

Varas tilted the Silencer’s wings so that it flew completely sideways at full speed, narrowly missing a chunk of space debris. The asteroid field proved to be hazardous fun and not even waiting for instructions from her father, the brunette clone had jumped into the hatch the minute she’d suited up and her pilot’s helmet was attached.

An alarm blared. “Look out!” Fighter technicians scattered as Varas Ren had lurched from the hangar.

And now the fun begins, she’d thought.

The Knight thought about turning off her comms but she wasn’t suicidal. As she waited for instructions from Kyrel, she pulled back on the throttle and slowed the majestic Silencer to stealth mode, but even in hiding the vessel was incredibly fast. As a meteor soared by, Varas calibrated her radar to search for the anti-aircraft towers, and while she waited for her systems to recognize them, she thought of the stormtrooper who she’d encountered on Phu, recalling his long face, jutting chin, soulful eyes. The vision was anachronistic as she was now encased in durasteel with an unforgivingly bulky uniform, the mechanical-sounding breathing through her oxygen making her feel at one with the Silencer.

She glanced at the comms unit awaiting the angry voice of her father blaring through it with a scolding for her lone wolf mentality in the asteroid field, realizing she'd ignored her apprentice, Doran, again. Soon she'd begin training him with a focus on Force Lightning, a skill he'd expressed interest in. But today she was enjoying her joyride in the cockpit.

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Day 1,
13 hours after activation,
HEX E-50,
Operation Cold Saber.


One-by-one, the allies responded. Dutifully, Omen turned its blank, functional body to greet its team. Instruments within the droid's chassis interpreted Omen's inputs and trasmitted them with a crackling, masculine voice over the commlink.

<: "Greetings Agent 5, I expect our mission to be productive. ALPHAS 2,3, and 4 are confirmed operational. I have connected to each of your armour systems, and I am monitoring your vitals. You may experience some discomfort in your haptic feedback devices and systems. Do not be alarmed." :>

As Omen waited for the team to regain its bearings after the landing, the droid sent out sonic pings, the sonar bouncing around the rough mine shaft and giving Omen a sort of map of the immediate area, and the shape of the tunnel system. Other sensors tested the air, and the rocks, subroutines comparing the composition of the gasses and minerals with vast annals of information stored within its central data network.

<: "For Operation Cold Saber I have been granted the de-facto rank of Special Agent of the Security Bureau. You are to treat me as a sentient of this rank." :>

A moment of silence as Omen gauged the reactions, checking elevated vitals, or changes in facial features or body language. Finally, the AI transmitted again.

<: "I await further instructions." :>

[member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="Kyli DT-6767"] | [member="Marriskcal Lati"]​

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Praetorian Initiate Hopeful
Operation Cold Sabre
Codename: Agent Five
Callsign: Shadowstar
Equipment | Mk. I RAKGHOUL Semi-Powered Battle Armour with Repulsorlift Technology, Training Lightsaber, DE-39 Maser Rifle, Throwing Knives, Binding Wires, Injector Pens filled with Lecepanine
Location | Eastern Mineshaft, Hex E-50
Allies | Kyli DT-6767http://starwarsrp.net/user/16816-kyli-dt-6767/http://starwarsrp.net/user/16816-kyli-dt-6767/, Rexus Wenckhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/12678-rexus-wenck/, Omen
Status | A death by humming glow-stick is the best sort of death.

Swift and insidious as a only a living shadow could be, ALPHA 2 disappeared further into the gloom of the tunnel, leaving her and Omen at their origin. While she could not say that she fully comprehended the mindset of individuals who served in the military, she could at least understand the need to carry out their objectives. And they were on a limited timeframe, so it was more than understandable that ALPHA 2 moved ahead.

But if she was the leader of this operation and her designation is ALPHA 2, where was ALPHA 1?

Either way, the young initiate was determined that she would not be a hindrance.

Marriskcal smiled tentatively up at the droid, feeling a little intimidated by the machine standing so close to her. She was just a mere half of its height, but as it– No, a he? – seemed pleasant enough. As her screen and suit adjusted to the link, the blonde decided to ignore her apprehension of an unknown variable and give Omen a chance. “Thank you, Agent Omen. I will be counting on you then.”

While the youngling was able, and more or less used to seeing the world through the view of a HUD, any extra assistance was most definitely appreciated. And considering the fact that this particular droid was deployed with the Special Forces unit and herself into what would definitely become a hostile situation, Marriskcal suspected that Omen was more than capable.

“For Operation Cold Sabre, we are to follow Alpha-Two’s lead and provide support as and when necessary,” she said to the machine, deferring to ALPHA 2’s command as unit leader. The death trooper had more experience on the field and would probably know when and how to utilize their skills best. “Our main objective is to eliminate Colonel Gotts and secure the site. All hostiles are to be neutralised with extreme prejudice.” No mercy shall be given to parasites.

Though the mineshaft was filled with the buzz of many lives, the blonde could feel a flicker of one extinguishing close to their location. She turned her head away from her companion, her eyes narrowing as she looked down the tunnel, searching for the strange and unique presence of ALPHA 2. Just as Marriskcal was about to suggest that they go to their unit leader’s position, her no-nonsense voice addressed the initiate on the TEAMCOM.

“Affirmative, Alpha-Two,” the blonde replied in a similar fashion and checked her display. “ETA in 2 minutes.”

“Come, Agent Omen. Let us make our way to where Alpha-Two is.” Marriskcal activated her boots and followed the path the death trooper took down the tunnel, using both the telemetry data that appeared on the HUD and her senses to guide her to where the other was.

The tunnels were narrow and claustrophobic, but as she was slighter than every single one of her unit members, Marriskcal did not have a problem navigating through the confined space. The dull grey durasteel door that greeted them lead into a darkened airlock. With a soft tap of the button, it started to cycle. As they waited for it to end and release them into the inner parts of the mine, the blonde looked out into space, wondering if she would be able to catch a glimpse of other operatives passing them by as they headed into other locations on the asteroid field.

Instead, the paling body of a dead person floated in front of her, his eyes open and mouth gaping with the indignity that accompanied death. The youngling scrunched her nose in distaste even as she noted the wound on his chest and his impacted features. Messy, but effective. Though she was trained in various form of combat and weaponry, she much preferred the bloodless wounds caused by the plasma blade of a lightsaber.

Marriskcal had utmost faith in her unit leader’s efficiency, which was the only reason why she only held her favoured knives when they stepped out of the bulkhead into the area. “Apologies for the delay, Alpha-Two. Are we convening with Alpha-Three and Four, or are we staying as separate teams?” As their arrival has yet to be detected by the parasites, the blonde expected that they would receive an in-depth set of instructions or that their unit leader would request further information on their skillsets.

 

[Elijah Brockway]

Walking briskly through the corridors of the Ixion, Lucan tugged irritably at the collar of his new uniform. Mere days ago, he'd come with the rest of the Imperial Navy's remnant to First Order space, the captain of the ship he was currently inspecting, as the remnant sought asylum and integration. Shortly later he found himself demoted to a mere commander, with Grand Admiral Cardan being rebranded a commodore and appointed in command of the Ixion. For the man whose career had been rather stymied up until the month preceding the Galactic Empire's collapse, being pushed back down was rather insulting.

And even with all of that, they couldn't even have gotten a proficient tailor for his new uniform.

Stepping into the turbolift that went up to the command bridge, Lucan breathed deeply, forcing himself to remain calm. It's only a temporary situation, he reminded himself. No use being particularly insulted by it. As the turbolift ascended, Lucan mentally ran over his inspection and his communications with the subordinate vessels within the Ixion's squadron. It was roughly equally split between former Galactic Empire vessels (and officers) and First Order contributions; some of those First Order officers had come across as rather displeased to be placed under the command of relative strangers to them, regardless of any alliance. Thankfully, they were as disciplined as their formerly-Kaminocentric cousins, so there were no real issues.

Two Sondheim-II Interdictor cruisers, one Stormcloud-II assault cruiser, two Bulwark-class escort frigates, one Pilum-class frigate, one Sabre-class escort frigate, one Vigilance-class corvette, and one Mukhtiar-class corvette. And, of course, the Allegiance-IV Heavy Star Destroyer Ixion. Lucan was glad that the Pilum frigate, the Existentiality, hadn't been sent elsewhere—or, worse, decommissioned. He rather liked the little ship that had been his first command. All ships are fully operational and battle-ready, interdiction fields active.

The turbolift door opened, with Lucan exiting onto the bridge of the ship. He didn't quite know some of the bridge officers; with Cardan's flagship being inspected and repaired, numerous of the Invictus's bridge crew had been transferred, along with Cardan himself, to the Ixion. He gave a polite nod to those he saw first, his eyes quickly picking out what few of his own crew were still present. Then he turned, walking back to where Cardan was waiting for him, giving the Commodore a quick salute.

"The Ixion is armed and ready, sir," he said perfunctorily—and, unintentionally, a bit testily. "The squadron is on standby and awaiting your command." With the short report done—fulfilling Lucan's immediate duty as the XO of the ship—he and Cardan quickly moved to the hologram pod, tapping into the conference with the other high-positioned officers of the battlegroup. Lucan gave a standard salute in greeting to the Grand Admiral, before clearing his throat to answer the "man's" question. "Sir, the fifth squadron's interdictors are in position, and interdiction fields are active," he delivered the information quickly, looking around and waiting for the other officers' replies.

[member="Gromm Cardan"] [member="Robogeber"]

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Traditionally, this type of thing would be taking place aboard the FIV Concordia, in her luxurious conference chambers or the Grand Moff's personal study. But since the Concordia was by the far the most distinctive vessel in the First Order's navy, thanks in large part to its well-known crimson hull markings denoting it as, first and foremost, a diplomatic vessel. Since diplomacy was not likely with the types of raiders and pirates intelligence suggested were present, Natasi had elected a slightly lower-profile vessel for this operation in the form of a Consul-class Diplomatic Frigate. It was her first time on such a vessel since her own model, the Frontrunner was destroyed in a crash during the First Order's successful invasion of Mustafar. Natasi had designed the line herself, to provide a working office space for members of the Cabinet and trusted other government actors.

Or not trusted, as the case may be. This particular frigate was christened Capricious by its former assigned Cabinet Minister, and fittingly so: Clémence Wallace had led the disloyal Moffs in their attempt to oust her from power. Capricious didn't even touch it. Still, Wallace was dead -- politically, if not literally -- and would likely be unable to show her face in First Order space during the term of Natasi's premiership. A smile crept enigmatically over her face. At the end of the fight, it came down to who was still on her feet, and in this fight, it had been Natasi. Natasi, barely. Natasi, by a hair. But Natasi nonetheless.

This meeting might have taken place on Dosuun, but Natasi wanted to be seen. She wanted her people -- the military especially -- to see that she was there, involved, moving and shaking. The Grand Moff was meeting with interested parties to discuss what would be done with this space once the First Order had staked its claim. There were a few possibilities; it could be fortified and used for military purposes like defense, training, and border security. Alternatively, it was an ideal spot for a FOSB listening station. Still other uses for it included a zero-G training ground, a mining zone to extract the minerals from the ancestors, or a buffer zone between the First Order and the Outer Rim Coalition.

While the voices she had assembled were the best and brightest in the First Order's government sphere of influence, it wasn't just a symposium on using the space. They didn't know it, but for them, it was a test, for Natasi to see whether people were where they belonged, who might be ready for prime time in the Cabinet, and who had potentially worn out their welcome. And so when Natasi took her seat at the head of the conference table in the observation lounge of the ship, facing the broad wall of viewports that gave her a commanding view of the theater of battle, she studied each of those who were in attendance, either in person or remotely via holocall, with an appraising eye.

[member="Madelyn Lowe"] | [member="Dante Calgar"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Asharad Graush"] | @Additional Government People​

 

[Varian Alaric]

Codename, Agent Seven
Location, Cave System, Mine Shaft "The Pit"
Equipment,
2x - Lightsaber's(red)
Deep Fryer Rifle
Ren Armor(Rakghoul armor)
Status, Alive and Well

Allies, [member="Rexus Wenck"], [member="Marriskcal Lati"], [member="Omen"], [member="Kyli DT-6767"]
Objective, Operation Cold Sabre, watch over Marriskcal Lati

Val had gotten to the corvette late. It wasn't on purpose, more of an accident than anything. Though, he figured that the special operations team he had been assigned to, ALPHA, wouldn't take his 'excuse' lightly, so he would have to come up with an excuse as to why he had arrived so late. The mission should've been simple, easy even. Though, Val got stuck having to watch over and in a sense, babysit Marriskcal. He remembered her from the Bastion of Ren just a few weeks ago. He had first met her during the violent schism which had resulted from Kyrel Ren trying to wrest control of the Knights of Ren once the supreme leader had disappeared. Val was surprised Kyrel still tolerated him, what after saying that he wan an idiot and a rat in the mud. On one hand, he was glad about it, on the other...he was nervous and apprehensive. Kyrel could easily defeat him one-on-one. He didn't even know how he had lasted in the duel against Varas, dumb-luck was probably what it was.

Valentin hauled his body into the waiting drop-pod, locking himself in as the pissed off engineers readied the pod for launch. He did a last minute check of his armor, ensuring nothing was loose or out-of-place, hell he didn't want to suffocate on one of his first military assignments alongside the infamous ALPHA team. The hatch over the pod closed with a resounding and mechanical hiss as the doors linked over each other, ensuring an air-tight environment. The red HUD of Val's Rakghoul Armor began cycling through it's features automatically, testing each one to make sure they were working. The soft glow of the red HUD illuminated Val's face in a soft tint of red as the pod fell from the corvette once released from it's hook, aimlessly falling through the now open hatch in the ship which it exited out of.

It was like a metal cocoon, falling...and falling, through the emptiness and the void that was the endless frontier of space. As the pod fell, Valentin received a message from...Kyrel of all people. It was a secondary objective, hunt down and kill any cultists and take any Jedi artifacts. It was simple enough. Though, Val needed to dedicate his time to the objective at hand which he was assigned to. He and Marrisckal would probably find some of these artifacts along the way anyways, so he didn't worry much about what Kyrel had said, for the moment. [(Objective Noted)] Valentin replied swiftly as the display of the pod exclaimed in bright lettering that impact was imminent. Finally, Val hated this thing...felt like a prison of some sort for people that were claustrophobic. He even felt as though he was claustrophobic in this drop-pod, at least the pod would soon open up and he'd be out.

The impact was sudden and jarring, even though Val had known it was coming, it shook his body when he had felt the pod slam into the moon-sized asteroid. The buzzing of electricity and metal resounded through Val's pod as the drill on the bottom began operation as it drilled through the hard and rocky exterior shell of the asteroid, Titan. All it took was a few minutes, and the pod was free of the exterior rocks as it plummeted thirty feet into a cave system below. The pod fell upon the rocky floor of the cave with a resounding clang of metal and rock, or at least it would have if they weren't in space. The pod it's self had landed a few meters away from Rexus, close enough for him to see but it would still be a walk either to or from the pod to where Rexus was located at. The doors of the drop-pod opened slowly, followed by Val hauling his metal-covered body out of the pod and into the dark abyss which was the cave. Once out of the pod, Val's eyes snapped upwards towards where Rexus was, a few meters off.

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Governor of Varonat Madelyn Lowe let out a breathy sigh as she shifted in her position in the waiting room, fussily adjusting her clothes, unhappy with the way the deep red skirt was sitting over her knees, and how her spotless white blouse was creased, put on too hastily to be ironed. Even more irritating was the incessant blinking of the holo-projector on her wrist, transmitting every few seconds the various codes and permissions that allowed her to stay aboard the FIV Capricious. The room was well, furnished, and appointed with the luxuries one would expect from a vessel housing the Grand Moff. Still, it was a waiting room, and the steaming cup of caf from the machine in the corner could only do so much to alleviate the weariness of travel.

Vaguely, Madelyn was aware of the presence of other dignitaries, diplomats, and representatives from the far-flung corners of the territories aboard identical rooms across the vessel. However, she paid them little mind. In fact, she tried to think of nothing at all. With the stresses of her position, the mounting workload as she tried to wrestle Varonat's economy into submission, and the general carrying on since the fall of the Alliance, Madelyn had been running on fumes.

While the Governor suppressed a yawn, one of the two doors leading to the waiting room opened with a hissed and a young officer appeared in the doorway, his uniform crisp and flawless. His boots, buttons, and rank insignia each polished with care to a sheen. Madelyn admired him for a moment, then met his gaze.

"Madam Governor, thank you for your patience while your ship was searched. You understand that security is very important here." She offered the barest nod. "Now that the inspection is complete, you're free to head to the observation lounge. The Grand Moff is ready for you."

"Very good." Madelyn stood without fanfare and stepped past the officer into the hall. A pair of stormtroopers followed a few steps behind, escorting her as she made her way to the turbolift, where she leaned against the rails as it shot up through the decks of the vessel.

A few moments later the doors opened, revealing a large room with a circular conference table, looking out upon the starlit landscape pockmarked with barren rocks and silent, hulking ships.

"Grand Moff," said Madelyn. "It is truly a pleasure."

[member="Natasi Fortan"]​

 

[Kier Grey]

Kyli DT-6767
Asteroid "Titan", Ancillary Maintenance Access

Spoiler: Equipment

• Blackwing Electro-Sword
• C-25 Fragmentation Grenade
• FastTurn-3 Hydrospanner
• G-6E Light Repeating Blaster
• G-12A Blaster Rifle
• Mark/VII DARKSABER [DELTA] Advanced Powered Combat Armour
• Plasma Torch
• Stuncuffs

First Order Personnel: [member="Marriskcal Lati"], [member="Omen"], [member="Rexus Wenck"], [member="Primat Ren"]

Kyli displaces forwards and halts at the bulkhead door leading from the Airlock's room and swings rifle around the bulkhead and fixes both sights and eyes further down the hallway and releases a quiet chuckle into the eerie silence with an involuntary spasm rolling through the young woman's spine. Frames of the slaughter on Kaeshana fluttered through the Death Troooper's mind and what was brief ecstasy turned into a smouldering anger with hatred swallowing the woman's heart with the rifle's stock creaking somewhat from the sheer furious force pulling it into Kyli's shoulder. Listening to Rexus' transmission she simply nodded not that he could see it. "Roger, Out." Kyli replied curtly there wasn't a point in moving until they Randezvous and from there could move deeper into the Asteroid 'Titan', Intel suggested that the facility housed a massive habitat and mining facility their objective was the elimination of Colonel Gotts' and his militia force of Pirates here. Listening to the Airlock cycle Kyli's hazel spheres quickly glance towards the macromotion tracker plastered prominently in the bottom left-corner of aqua coloured helmet mounted display 'green contacts they are friendlies' Kyli thought and thus didn't turn to greet them angrily. The approaching footsteps were distinctly heavy, some type of powered armour the agent was wearing with this amount of firepower they'd be next to unstoppable in close-quarters unless by some unfortunate curse the Militia were armed exclusively with Ion Weapons or Particle Beams. "Droid this is Alpha-Two, Proceed to the rendezvous point as indicated by the transmitted telemetry data, out." That should have been sufficient for the automaton, Kyli was weary of machines that didn't require Human input and though while she certainly was not superstitious there was something grotesque about the idea of some up-jumped protocol droid possessing free will. "The Apology is unnecessary Agent, we're going to Randezvous with ALPHA Three and Four. Get ready to move, nine to ten odds they've registered the multiple cycles of this airlock and will dispatch somebody to investigate." Stating dryly the Death Trooper promptly breaks from the bulkhead, Kyli moves forth taking careful measured steps into the adjacent hallway leading into a rotunda that was lined with EVA suits in plexiglass cases obviously equipment the Pirates had gathered in order to leave their asteroid home through for what purpose she couldn't say, there didn't appear to be any visible equipment on the Asteroids' surface on their way down upon insertion.

"I'll take point, watch your spacing." Kyli commanded and continued to wonder why the First Order Security Bureau would be so cruel as to shackle some Agent to ALPHA on what was going to undoubtedly be an extremely dangerous operation, sure they wore some description of powered armour but it wasn't the equipment that made the Soldier neither is it an buffer for lacklustre skill the soldiers of ALPHA knew this truth all too well. Watching the elevation widget recalculate Kyli releases an irritated grunt gently pressing her left-index finger against a circular durasteel button embedded in a panel within the boltgun grey wall calling up a turbolift to her small team's location. The facility continually appeared to be well crafted by people who were ostensibly simple raiders and pirates Kyli permitted herself to entertain the thought for a moment that perhaps the Intel was inaccurate. That simmering fire reaches up Kyli's spine again clasping at her motor functions forcing the Death Trooper to tense her muscles and growl lowly, it is the call of her insanity attempting to drag Kyli into hallucination sparing some ecstatic child giggle she releases a small gasp and gives a panicked look over shoulders and allows her visor to remain in the party's direction for a moment as if frozen in thought. "Check your fire, I don't want to be hit by strays." Kyli offers the direction to diffuse any suspicion to what she knew might have appeared to be an extremely erratic and random movement on her part. Now turning gaze and almond spheres around searching for that familiar marker created on helmet-mounted display for Rexus and Twigg, studying briefly the range indications. 'Good, they're not far. One of them better have counter-mutagen stims on them' Kyli's thoughts turned to the grim possibility that the lurking spectres of her past might be given life by what she could identify still yet as being fantasy, her comrades had died on Kaeshana long ago. "No matter how deep you try to bury your pain Seventy-Six, when you close your eyes we'll be waiting for you." The voice rumbles through her helmet as if passed over the TEAMCOM Kyli feels her heart plummet and struggle to beat through the cold sweat which now possesses her skin. A tears wells in both of her almond-shaped spheres and drag their way down across pale cheeks unable to quench them Kyli is forced to accept their presence. "You'll burn with the rest of us Scars! And this time you shall not escape your fate!" A choir of voices growl angrily towards the woman though Kyli's comrades would not hear or see them, fear boiled beneath the Death Trooper's armour with the steady descent into Paranoid delusion.

 

[The Major]

Aboard the Capricious
A conference room

It was so considerate for the Grand Moff to grace the First Order with this: her return to form, her assertion of visibility, the fulfillment of her sabbatical. Perhaps it was the need the grieve, or the strain of the recent ploys of those once trusted allies who played the wrong game at the wrong time who now enjoyed a role fitting to their betrayal in a place where a name didn't mean much more than the color of paint on a cell wall. Because it could be a great and noble thing to have ambition and clear desire to take control -to instill your will over one of the largest cultural and military machines in the galaxy- but when you cut it the wrong way -OH- did one fall from grace into the shadows.

Into the secret places one did go.​

​

The kind of places that people like the Director and her helpers could put their hands on someone....​

​

...and touch them deeply...​

So it was good day, splendid even, but one in which those who toiled endlessly for the Empire did so without rest on the behest and whims of those who had the privilege of disappearing to nurse their mental wounds. How lovely. Unfortunately since there was so much work to be done especially with the outpouring of violence that followed the fall of the Alliance, certain members of this meeting would be forced to be engaged while still on shift. Not that the elusive Security Bureau representative could complain. She was in high spirits; so high in fact that even the sight of Governor Lowe wasn't enough to ruin her generous disposition. Of course, the Major's gloved hand crunched in malice, but this occurred outside of the screen. The rectangular projection awash in a hyperblue light maintained a bright, wide smile. Waiting attentively, the image being shown reflected a bit of light off screen, causing the glasses on this woman's face to flash in a caustic reflection that threatened to sear the retinas of those staring directly at that space.

[member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Madelyn Lowe"]​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

"Governor Lowe!" Natasi exclaimed when the blonde entered the room. "I'm pleased to see you looking so well."

She rose and approached the Governor of Varonat, reaching out to shake hands as she regarded the woman with a friendly -- but appraising -- gaze. She was one of the individuals whose career was up for her consideration by the Grand Moff privately. Natasi was impressed by the work she had done on Varonat; that kind of star quality was something special, but talent alone wasn't enough to move up these days. Wallace had been talented. Calinda had been talented. But their unchecked ambition had almost spelled disaster for Natasi and for the First Order. She needed to get a better feel for the woman before she formulated a plan for just how [member="Madelyn Lowe"] fit into the grander scheme of things. She half-turned towards the electric blue image of [member="The Major"], shimmering and silent for the moment. "Governor Lowe, have you met Deputy Director Shepard? Unfortunately for her she's dialing in from parts unknown and is missing out on the delightful croissants procured by the Navy stewards. Do help yourself," Natasi finished, gesturing towards the

"Exciting, isn't it?" Natasi said, gesturing to the wall of viewports looking out over the space beyond. "An almost black canvas for us to paint a destiny over. This is the part of the job I love most." Natasi moved to the sideboard to pour herself a cup of coffee from the refreshments laid out there, popping the aforementioned croissant onto the saucer before going back to her seat. "Do help yourself to anything you like, then join me. Deputy Director, all is well I trust?"