First Strike (FO Incursion)

[Omega]

First Strike (FO Incursion)

Location: Alexandria. Intel briefing by Colonel [member="Rolf Amsel"] :

Spoiler

Alexandria. Home of the Commonwealth. Or what was left of it. After slogging through a war with the Vagaari, the forces of the Commonwealth returned home, though not beaten, their resolve was certainly broken. Seeking aid, the Commonwealth reached out to the First Order, a plea for assistance which the First Order was more than happy to answer - for a price. The War Machine of the First Order was well known among the Commonwealth, reports of the expulsion of the Ssi-Ruuvi Imperium from their worlds were no secret, and with the military might of the First Order behind them, Alexandrians might just have a chance to survive in the Outer Rim.

Eager to spread their borders, the First Order gladly assumed the role of protector, and ruler over the planet of Alexandria - and while they instituted Imperial Law, some measure of autonomy yet remained. Military Academies were kept intact, instructors and officers of the First Order’s Stormtrooper Corps and Naval Corps integrated into the Academies and the training curriculum adjusted. For those Alexandrians who preferred, an Auxiliary unit was established, working side by side with the Auxiliaries of other First Order worlds.

With the war along the Order’s border at a standstill, a focus has been placed on training and preparedness - a vested interest in the military academies on Alexandria. Some of the First Order’s brightest officers had begun their commissions from those academies, and it was about time for a formal inspection. And so it was decided. The First Order’s military would be out in full regalia, inspections of not only First Order assets and soldiers, but those of the up and coming Officer hopefuls attending the H. Nelson Joint Military Academy & School of Warfare.

The Academy was established on the grounds of a previous school, but with the combined resources of both the remaining Commonwealth government and the First Order, the H. Nelson Joint Military Academy & School of Warfare was a sight to behold. A full campus had been constructed on the ground spanning acres upon acres, and above - locked in geosynchronous orbit a fully functional Naval Command and Control platform had been constructed, allowing for the full training of Military Officers.

It was at the platform that the FIV Swift, a Marauder-class Cruiser found its berth. The Vessel was a perfect example of First Order engineering as well as providing an opportunity for Cadets of the Academy to board and tour an active and operational vessel. On the ground, numerous shuttles and frigates had carried both troops and officers, intent on performing a full on military parade, complete with an inspection of the Academy and its promising officer cadets. Full dress uniform, vehicle inspections, even a drill section - the full dog and pony show.

As the parade decks are filled with wide eyed cadets and senior officers, above the FIV Swift is visible as it is docked with the Naval platform, and almost surreal atmosphere created between the cadets on the ground and those no doubt in similar fashion aboard both the First Order Vessel and Hangar Deck above.

Diamond​

​

Space​

​

It flows like water past the glassteel of the portal​

​

A billion stars stretched thin by the vessel passing through it​

​

When the flow stopped, then would come the storm​

​

All that could be heard on the bridge of the warship was the steady, measured footsteps of metal on metal. Daintily the droid passed through the darkened room. The chassis of the unit was a blinding white, as if it emanated rather than merely reflected it.​

​

All around was the industriousness of an automated bridge. The few autonomous hardware units moved purposefully, slowly.​

​

The only one which moved outside of this rhythm was a droid of similar, yet lesser design to the white droid. This one’s chassis was painted a dark green in stripes.​

​

“The strike is prepared, Diamond.”​

“Then let the strike be unleashed, Malachite. The First Order are the Empire who persecuted us by another name. Our revenge shall be administered in equal measures swift and destructive.” Diamond’s voice was calm, not monotone, but even.​

“If they bring reinforcements?”​

“Our goal is knowledge, not extermination. For now. Test their defences, withdraw when you have what is needed.”​

Malachite nodded, almost a bow. These were no regular droids.​

​

On the outskirts of the Alexandria system the fleet waited whilst the strike force began its move closer towards the centre….​

 

[Ria Misrani]

HORUS NELSON MILITARY ACADEMY
ALEXANDRIA, TALORAAN SECTOR
THE 103RD "BLOODY BANTHAS"

Janara. Janara had been a hellhole. At least in Ranulph's opinion, he looked over his shoulder [member="Sasha Starkos"] and [member="Jackson Mills"] had been with him but he said little at the moment. They were here to help with the new Academy. A new and shining star within the First Order's helm, the young men, and women who trained here would go on to be great officers within their mighty military. Not too far down the way the basic training for the grunts was also underway, he need not know the events that were to happen on this day. Although if he had known what was to come he would have thought twice about his choice of clothing today. The blond man's military dress uniform looked impeccable after all he was told Colonel [member="Gunther Creed"] would be around to inspect the unit.

"When do we go home?" Cpl. Strovenko asked, "this is a piss show, let's just get back to our sandy cookies and sandy cots, already."

"Relax, they just want a show and that's what we'll give'em, mhm?" Ranulph answered the man plainly, he again looked toward Starkos and Mills. He observed their reactions to this, this show of integration with the Commonwealth and the First Order which seemed to be a never ending parade. There was so much grand standing he often wondered if this is what his predecessor felt at events such as this. And then he was reminded of the historical importance of such an act and how it would be recorded and for that he blamed [member="Audrey Saint George"]. His ... Encounters with the doctor often left him with a change in opinion on the subject of history.

APPROACHING ALEXANDRIA
MALACHITE. THE INCURSION.

The droid of deep teal with the unsightly face turned his attention to the navcomputer.

Alexandria. There was a sense of gratification for what was about to be done to this world.

By now he imagined there should have been reports of their arrival. The First Order was so meticulous about such things he noticed while observing the organic's rather bloody and storied history. For such a young nation they have done so much with the color that now stained their very name. "We are reaching our designated targets." He was told, and if the droid could smile, it would have been a malicious grin that would have kissed upon his metallic frame. He was eager to mete out the due vengeance upon them all, Malachite trusted Diamond in his foresight.

The organics would know their betters, on this day.

 

[Hansen]

Shaehan Timiari
Taloraan Setor, Alexandria, H. Nelson Joint Military Academy & School of Warfare,
Parade Ground, 26th United Isianthar Infantry Regiment element.

Clutching the charcoal and crimson Regimental Standard of the 26th United Isianthar Infantry Regiment Shaehan stands proudly and in dead silence with a platoon of Powered Exoskeleton wearing soldiers flanking on either side. They'd dressed by the center and using their equipment's technology locked the joints of their armor providing the appearance these Auxillary Troopers are nothing more than elaborate sculptures or perhaps even droids, their heavy bodies paying no heed towards the wind. Their Olive-coloured armour was a contrast when measured against the Stark White of Stormtroopers and much more menacing; Hooked Combat Machetes sit sheathed on breastplate, the design represented what these Eldorai had become; Soldiers of the First Order and even further than that, physical embodiments of their Goddess of Destruction and calamity Illyria. Shaehan's sharp-dagger shaped ears listen carefully for parade Orders from the Human Officer leading the procession of First Order Military assets and personnel, though she was one of the few Eldorai who could truly understand Galactic Basic the other Eldorai had been trained in First Imperial Drill and understood the commands themselves if not necessarily the meaning behind each word. Each soldier clutched a T-7 Ion Disruptor and had it pressed against their torso with the barrel raised proudly up towards the azure veil separating them from the cold vacuum of space.

 

[Jackson Mills]

Staff Sergeant Jackson Mills stood on the parade grounds near his unit lead, Lieutenant Ranulph Tarkin and observed the proceedings in front of him. This kind of dog and pony show was purely for the officers and the media, and every single enlisted man or woman in the military knew it. Most of them would rather be doing their actual job or if they were supposed to be off duty they'd rather be goofing off in the NCO mess or in the barracks. Jackson especially felt out of place because this was a military academy which existed entirely to crank out officers. New officers tended to be generally clueless before getting a healthy sum of field experience while operating under the delusion that they were Gods gift to tactical warfare. The Staff Sergeant, however, didn't mind being here to support Lieutenant Tarkin. He had proven to be capable and flexible, and as such Jackson was happy to be an NCO in his platoon and would work diligently to ensure that the Lieutenants orders were carried out.

Despite the nature of the ceremony, Jackson had opted not to wear his Class A dress uniform. It seemed more appropriate to be easily spotted as an NCO, so he had instead worn a set of black fatigues which bore his rank chevrons, name, and unit patch. The only thing that stood out on his uniform was the brass pin on his left breast pocket which identified him as a transfer from the Commonwealth Marine Corps. He also wore a blaster pistol in a holster which was strapped to his thigh. While he didn't expect he would need the weapon he did carry it whenever it was permissible by military custom, as it seemed appropriate to be armed at least minimally when on base.

He heard Cpl. Strovenko make his quip, and gave him the evil eye. When the Lieutenant finished his statement Jackson added, "Corporal, police that crap and keep your jaw shut. Maintain discipline or I'll snap you back so hard you won't see straight for a week." Jackson could tell that Strovenko wasn't happy about it, but he straightened his shoulders and closed his mouth regardless.

 

[Progflaw99]

Unknown Regions \\ Cadi System \\ Alexandria​

H. Nelson Joint Military Academy & School of Warfare​

Parade Deck \\ Academy Grounds​

​

It had been a time since the Colonel had appeared in full regalia, though his uniform had been maintained with the utmost care. Complacency was the silent killer - or so the adage went. Alexandria was a sight to be seen, Col. Amsel only having been planetside once previously. The H. Nelson Joint Military Academy & School of Warfare highlighted the best of Alexandrian Culture, at least as far as Rolf could tell. He'd been sent to the surface as part of a push towards the outlying worlds of First Order space, an initiative to renew their presence in the wake of the violent conflict between the Order and the Alliance. Despite the effort, much of the First Order's fleet was engaged elsewhere, particularly along the Order/Alliance border worlds. The FIV Swift, a Marauder-class Cruiser was the only ship they could spare. Even so, it cast an imposing shadow across the geosynchronous station above the Academy as it slid into dock. It was a great opportunity for Cadets both Naval and Ground to get some hands on experience in a true First Order vessel as opposed to their Alexandrian counterparts.

Rolf's return to duty had been an arduous road, but he had been eased back into the operational tempo of the active forces. It felt good to be back. He'd landed hours ago, an advance force sent ahead of the FIV Swift to begin the inspection of not only the academy grounds but also the Cadet Corps. Alexandria showed a promising addition of officers to the Imperial war machine. The Colonel had been assigned an additional complement for the duration, a squad of troopers led by a soldier identified only as "@DT-317". For all intents and purposes, the Colonel was in command of the procession, however the troopers assigned as his escort weren't the standard. Instead of the pristine gloss white of the First Order Stormtrooper Corps these sported a glass black armor, their mere presence somewhat unsettling even for the combat veteran. It meant there was something of importance at play - and he was out of the loop on this one. Perhaps his time away from active operations had effected his career more than he'd thought initially.

Those suspicions would have to go unaddressed until later - presently he found himself behind schedule, the inspection of the academy's armory had taken longer than usual due to a system error affecting the inventory system. After the kinks had been worked out, the Colonel had been tasked with a full on inspection at the expansive parade deck. Columns and rows of Stormtrooper and Naval cadet hopefuls filled the large rectangle of duracrete which spanned across the center of the campus, sun glinting from their polished buttons and brass accouterments. A quick glance down at his own uniform send a smirk snaking across his drawn features - a partially distorted reflection of himself staring back at him off the polished shine of his boots. No one could correct his uniform today, though no doubt he would be called upon to correct those cadets who'd neglected to shine their own awards or shoes. It caught the Colonel strange that he should be inspecting uniforms when just on the edge of First Order space lie the Ssi-Ruuvi, or on the other border the Galactic Alliance, but Rolf had always followed orders - and so here he was.

As he prepared to take the deck, he gave a nod to the armored figures behind him, led by a Captain.

"We're up - Remind me to pay for your drinks later Captain, wouldn't want to be you in this heat."​

​

Rolf knew full well that the suits were climate controlled, but that didn't keep them from being cumbersome over time and uncomfortable. That coupled with the direct sun would only amplify the discomfort. Unlike many officers however, the Colonel meant it - he would buy those men drinks later, and not just the local swill either. He was always good to his word.

[member="Ranulph Tarkin"] | [member="Torian Pierce"]​

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Kyrel was not one to come to worlds that mostly abhorred Force Sensitives, but he had arrived to the orbital part of the Academy acting as the Supreme Leader's emissary wishing to gain more ranks for the Knights of Ren. He had seen groups upon groups of cadets traveling amongst the station going through numerous lectures and tours as part of them soon becoming part of the First Order. Kyrel was disguised as a hologram of his former self, a young version of Thomas Kyrel Captain of the 212th Iron Squadron, dressed in a formal attire for the occasion, underneath that was a ghost of the past, but nonetheless it was the true self that was Kyrel Ren, garbed in the armor of Lord Vader he watched and waited, often feeling the Force Signatures of other Cadets and hoped to find potential within some and show them a better path like he was.

During his investigations in trying to find suitable candidates in the large Force Forsaken society, he almost felt something stirring as he watched the window a saw the darkness of space, he could feel something but didn't know what. What was the Force trying to tell him, he did not know and he had an inkling that what was lurking out there, it would be something dangerous. Kyrel snapped out of his thoughts and turned back to the crowds of cadets and officers, but remained on his guard for what would happen or what would soon happen.

 

[DT-317]

Unknown Regions \\ Cadi System \\ Alexandria​

H. Nelson Joint Military Academy & School of Warfare
Parade Deck \\ Academy Grounds

Most of the armed forces hadn't seen combat since the multi-pronged attack on the Anoat Sector. Troops winding down from the toughest war some of them had faced against the Galactic Alliance and her mercenaries. Ranging from transitioning to training to constructing new military bases, the average stormtrooper and Imperial Trooper were spending less time on high alert as hostilities with the Alliance winded down.

Others however were still hard at work in preparation for the next assaults upon the Ssi-Ruuvi Imperium.

DT-317 and Carnage Squad were apart of that number.

The modified E-22 that Carnage Squad sported hung from straps across their shoulders, easily removable.

"Haven't been in an Academy in years."

"They always the same, y'know."

"Glad we never met in the Academy."

The trio of Carnage bantered back and forth as was per usual as DT-317 left them to their own devices. Even if they spoke a lot through their helmet systems, outwardly, [member="Rolf Amsel"] heard naught but the faint clicking and robotic sounds the helmets tended to make. Three One Seven looked at the equipment expectantly alongside the Colonel, incapable of helping himself to go through the motions alongside him. At points, his expert hands went over the polished weaponry in the armoury. Basic, simple, most was likely non-lethal, though the cadets in the square waiting were undoubtedly soldiers. Or would soon to be. Untrained, green, as far as the First Order was concerned.

"If all turns out well against those overgrown lizards, I think I'll be buying you drinks," came Three One Seven's reply.

The purpose of the Death Trooper squad being present was to aid in the preparation of the cadets and the Academy. The Supreme Commander had personally tasked Carnage with the mission, and although their Leader was unsure as to why it had to be them, Three One Seven knew it was because the offensive against the Ssi-Ruuk would begin soon, and Carnage was tasked with keeping the Ssi-Ruuvi so busy another Dosuun would be impossible. That is, the First Order being so preoccupied with their forces at another location, they bypassed them entirely and attacked at another location.

And then it was time for them to go out, and Three One Seven did what he was tasked to do, and waited for the Colonel to take his steps ahead of the Death Squad before they inevitably followed.

 

[Ria Misrani]

MOVING INTO ORBIT OVER ALEXANDRIA
MALACHITE - THE INCURSION

Massive silhouettes clouded the edge of the system, and the mechanical eye of Malachite swerved to the left as he looked at the map of the planet. Delicate digits threaded together with the index of either hand meeting one another against the hinges of his jaw. The glass servos that covered his ocular implants moved, shifted in their field of vision. "Advance the carriers, deploy all fighters." He ordered from the command station, as swarms of small six meter fighters, interceptors, if he were, to be frank. Poured off the hangar and rushed for the surface of the planet, just as the carrier approached orbit over the planet casting an unsightly shadow over parts of the former Commonwealth capital.

Frigates and cruisers, carrier cruisers and balanced seemed to form up tightly around the main ship.

"Launch the escorts, and bombers - once they've conducted their first wave. Dispatch the frigates for clean up," he ordered all the while moved his hands to the console in front of him. Quietly Malachite tapped out a sequence for Diamond to read, wave one consisted of the fighters, the bombers, and interceptors. Wave two would be the frigates and if needed, wave three would be the cruisers.

Down on the ground at the Military Academy, there would be an unnatural quiet in the air followed by the sound of Droid interceptors that would sweep across the grounds. They would be followed by the bombers and their escorts unleashing destruction upon the unsuspecting Academy and those that might be there would either end up dead or scramble away. Fight or flee, Malachite pondered what the organics would do and in either scenario, it would mean little to him. They would all die, one way or another.

[member="DT-317"] | [member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Jackson Mills"] | [member="Shaehan Timiari"] | [member="Torian Pierce"]

 

[Hansen]

Shaehan Timiari
Taloraan Setor, Alexandria, H. Nelson Joint Military Academy & School of Warfare,
Parade Ground, 26th United Isianthar Infantry Regiment element.

The distant whirr of engines catches Shaehan's attention with the swivel of head to left, some unnatural shadow has fallen over Alexandria's capital. Bright flashes erupt up from the parade ground soil gives way buckling the Parade ground hurls chunks of itself up into the air. Shaehan's hands release the regimental standard and she twists screaming an order in Eldorai at the Platoon of Power Armour wearing Troopers. "Find cover!" The annunciation's pitch is modulated deep and wails of pain begin to fill the air as Proton bombs slam into the supple Earth leaving craters and the shadows of their obliterated victims seared against the landscape. While her comrades scramble for cover, Shaehan does the opposite; fearlessly charging for an emplaced Z-6 Rotary blaster cannon on a motorised rotating open-top turret. Debris flies through the air, Shaehan feels several pieces of crete slam against her, one piece hurtles and slices a distinct streak of paint away from her helmet. Breathing deeply she finally reaches the gun emplacement using one hand to engage the hydraulic motor Shaehan then traverses the weapon and elevates it.

Connecting to a First Imperial Central Command comlink frequency. "All callsigns this is Lightning-Minor we've been engaged by unidentified targets!" Shaehan desperately attempts to warn anybody listening. The Z-6's barrels begin spinning with a brief whine before loudly spitting a stream of azure bolts up into the air towards the bombers, attempting to rotate and lead them appropriately in the hopes some of her rounds might strike the craft. Some strange feeling sweeps over the usually calm Shaehan; a vague sense of disgust for her targets; cold machines destroying life rather than upholding it the individual or thing who sent them here would meet Ashira's justice in time.

[member="NPC Account"] [member="Rolf Amsel"] [member="Jackson Mills"] [member="Torian Pierce"] [member="DT-317"] [member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="Ranulph Tarkin"]

 

[Ria Misrani]

IN ORBIT OF ALEXANDRIA
MALACHITE - THE INCURSION

Next came the frigates, Malachite watched as his ships descended. The servos in his eyes could be heard as he turned his attention to his beloved swarms. Pleased. He was pleased to know that by his hands these organics would know their place. Bombers unleashing their payloads sending anyone and everything in its path into the Netherworld, Hell, the Abyss whatever you wished to call your fiery afterlife. Screams were like a beautiful orchestra, a symphony of death that now would move into the climax of it the peak of the movement, a crescendo if you will.

The sounds of his mechanical body moving in sync with the other droids on the ship. "Report Diamond?" Asked one of the others.

"No, not yet. Let us wait until it is over, until the smoke is cleared and then we can inform Diamond that the First Order has been made to heel to our might."

Frigates punched through the atmosphere casting shadows along the ground, as they opened fire on an already beleaguered military academy. A rain of energy meeting with flesh, metal and anything else it could destroy. Swarms continued to move through with ease as they've been met with little resistance thus far.

[member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Torian Pierce"] | [member="DT-317"] | [member="Shaehan Timiari"] | [member="Jackson Mills"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Unknown Regions \\ Cadi System \\ Alexandria​

H. Nelson Joint Military Academy & School of Warfare​

Parade Deck \\ Academy Grounds​

​

The Colonel had taken the deck, the tight knit formation of the Captain's soldiers mirroring every movement the commando made. The inspections had begun without a hitch, several of the weapons displayed had minor discrepancies, a rust spot near the base on one, carbon scoring near the barrel on another. None of the weapons was loaded of course, they never were for inspections. In fact, all the vehicles with physical ammunition had been emptied of their payload - the ones that didn't had their systems temporarily bypassed. These were​ cadets after all, not full fledged soldiers. Even Rolf, a full fledged Colonel carried only the blaster pistol at his hip, more a piece of ceremony than a combat weapon - the same could not be said for the armored troopers under the Captain's command.

As Rolf neatly stepped in front of the next cadet he heard a gasp from among those gathered. *Lack of bearing.* he thought to himself, eyes diverting for a moment as he attempted to locate the source. It took only a moment, for two rows back a slackjawed cadet stood gazing into the sky, arm slowly rising. Colonel Amsel's eyes followed the cadet's gesture, hands absentmindedly holding the recently taken weapon from the cadet in front of him, still in autopilot. That wouldn't last. Squinting narrowly Rolf tried to make out the small shadow.. shadows in the distance. Maybe the 181st was making a flyover? It'd have been a last minute addition but Rolf knew the First Order military. Loved to make a show of things, and with the majority of their fleet along the Alliance border it would only have made sense to rotate a few veterans off the front lines. As the shadows came closer he could make them out clearer. Those weren't First Order ships - Alexandrian maybe?

Accompanying the strange sight above came the sirens. Loud alarms began sounding across the campus, across Alexandria - something was happening. A sound, distorted at first began to fill the air, then closer as the campus PA system opened up in full swing. *Those aren't First Order fighters - those aren't even Alexandrian.* Rolf's initial response would normally have been to dismiss those cadets under his purview, however as he glanced back, he'd seen they were already scattering to the wind, weapon left in his hands as they ran for cover. Turning to face the incoming vessels, Rolf looked long and hard at the design. At least as best he could from the ground. Almost instinctually he rose the weapon to his shoulder before absentmindedly realizing the weapon he held was empty. *Useless.*

He contemplated carrying it with him, but in a fit of annoyance he cast the weapon to the deck, quickly unbuckling the pistol holster at his waist. Now he could see the flashing of the ship's lasers, their engines roaring as they screamed overhead. They needed to get to cover, and fast. Even as the fighters strafed the parade deck Rolf could see the shadows of larger vessels descending from the atmosphere. Above, the FIV Swift remained in dock - why Rolf couldn't say, but he did see flashes of red and green. They were on their own, the assault twofold. How had they arrived undetected? Why wasn't there more warning than this from the First Order's satellite network? All questions the Colonel had, unfortunately they would have to be answered later. He ducked low as the fighters came back for another pass. All around him he could see the carbon scoring from the blasters, cracked duracrete and melted durasteel filled his vision, the bodies of those killed in the first wave on full display in varying arrangement. Swallowing, he stopped fighting the adrenaline now rushing through his veins. Now was the time for action.

"We need to get to the armory - find out what's going on and watch my six!" he shouted, joining those running across the grounds.​

​

​

[member="Torian Pierce"] | [member="DT-317"] | [member="Jackson Mills"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"]
[member="Samka Derith"] | [member="NPC Account"] | [member="Shaehan Timiari"] | [member="Incursion"]
​

 

[Zak Dymo]

THE PLANET
A L E X A N D R I A
MANDURAH HARBOR OUTSKIRTS

​

Alexandria was beautiful this time of year.

The smell of the Tibana gas. The light misting of blood. The way that the crimson droplets sparkled in the sunlight was really quite spectacular.

The blaster cartridge bounced as it struck the floor, ejected and cast aside without a second thought. The small form of the assailant was a fluid blur of motion, vaulting forward with a slight twist. With serpentine grace, the boy had ducked and rolled across the floor until his back slammed against the back of a desk.

Of course, [member="Kyrel Ren"] got the easy assignment. Shake hands, kiss babies, and find a Force Sensitive or three in the crowd.

Him? Boo being on Alexandria meant just one thing: There was someone here that the First Order -- Central Command, FOSB, or some Grand Moff with a vendetta and a stick up her arse -- wanted dead.

His name was FA-4829.

Yes, that was his name.

No, it wasn't really a name. It was a number. Well, except for the FA part, which wasn't... but I digress.

Anyway, FA-4829 had been a stormtrooper for the First Order. If for no other reason that the fact that, if your occupation in life was 'stormtrooper' then there were not a whole lot of potential employers outside of the First Order. But, either due to feeling unfulfilled by his work or maybe it was changes to the First Order dental plan... Wait, did stormtroopers get dental? Whatever. Dude up and turned coat about the same time as [member="Tanomas Graf"]. Just, not at all as widely successful about it.

And maybe FA-4829's plan had been to make it to the Galactic Empire. Except, he'd never been able to cross through Galactic Alliance space. Instead, he'd found himself on the run from Alliance security forces on top of the First Order stormtrooper cadre he'd just given the finger to. Eventually, he'd conned, swindled, pirated, and straight up murdered his way over to the Commonwealth, where he'd settled into a relatively comfortable life as a middle class, blue collar dock worker for the space port authority.

Which, if it needs to be said, was also a front for a meager mafioso running black market goods through the Cadi System.

Now, normally, the First Order wouldn't really care about any of this. A stormtrooper defection happened about every other day. Seriously, there were millions of them. And more were graduating every day. One or two dropping out wasn't a crisis of national security. Similarly, smuggling operations that amounted to minor crimes weren't really worth the effort to snuff them out.

However, FA-4829 had the bright idea to finance his departure from the ranks of the First Order by stealing details of the weapon system for one of their TIE fighters. Which had put him on a list. And if there was one thing that nobody wanted to be on, it was a list of any sort maintained by the First Order.

Case in point, if you were an eleven year old on the list of Force Sensitives, you wound up carrying out assassinations on random planets because of arseholes like this one who couldn't be buggered to just slip away quietly. And his association with the smuggling ring only made the opportunity presented by the arrival of the FIV Swift for military drills that much more attractive.

Slip in. Eliminate FA-4829. Disrupt the smuggling operation.

...and most eleven year olds complained that their homework was hard.

He rammed a blaster cartridge into the butt of the subcompact blaster he carried, pausing as the hair stood up on the nape of his neck. In his mind's eye, he was aware of someone moving. They were running toward the desk, preparing the vault over it.

Rolling left, the boy primed the bolt as he came up and around the far side of the desk. Leveling the pistol out, the youth and the man passed within less than a foot of one another. Except the man was looking down, expecting the boy to still be ducking behind the desk. The man caught the movement out of the corner of his eye, having just enough time to turn his head before the blaster shot rang out.

Red stains formed on the ceiling, as the superheated blood mist rose up and collected overhead.

The same feeling rose from the pit of his stomach. With a preternatural grace, the boy sidestepped back to avoid the first blaster shot. Then weaved like a shock-boxer as the second followed with somewhat more precision.

Stormtrooper tactics. Use the first shot to move the target where you want them.

Bringing his pistol up, the young Pantoran fired two shots. Neither was aimed at anything or anyone in particular. More the general area where the two blaster bolts had come from, to encourage the shooter to take cover while Boo found some of his own.

Vaulting across the floor, the boy smacked back against the wall. The doorway next to him opening into the back office where FA-4829 was the last man standing. Trying to control his breathing, the boy felt his heart beating wildly. Tensing his finger on the trigger of the pistol, the boy braced himself and prepared to move...

...an explosion ripped through the interior of the offices.

In a blinding flurry of duracrete, splintered wood, and dust, the boy rolled into a duck-and-cover pose.

Overhead, he could hear the roar of repulsor engines.

Mandurah Harbor was supposed to be a No-Fly Zone.

Bits of debris fell from off his small frame, clouds of dust billowing out from around him, as the child reared back up to his feet. FA-4829 was already on his feet and making a run for it, courtesy of the back door recently installed as a bonus option by whatever turbolaser had just put in the sky light.

The boy's initial thought to go after the traitor was halted by the fact that... he had no idea what was going on.

Not that that would be really anything new. No one told him anything. And generally, when they did, he had to remind them that he was eleven, and not really knowledgeable about such things.

[member="Incursion"] | [member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="NPC Account"]​