Fondorian Fulcrum [First Order Dominion of Fondor [Hex P-33]

[Travis Caalgen]

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Fondor.

A planet in the Colonies that served as the host of one of the best shipyards in the Galaxy. Once a major artery in the Galactic Alliance's warship industry, Fondor Shipyards now remained damaged and rebuilding after the Alliance's catastrophic collapse. Now at the doorstep of the imperialist whims of the First Order, Fondor would serve as a stepping stone for the First Imperial Navy's influence in the Core Worlds.

Agents of the Order were deposited on the planet earlier that day, and a detachment of stormtroopers has set down in the planetary capital to maintain order while certain talks were underway.

Gunboat Diplomacy - Objective I: Previously, the Fondorian government has entertained talks with the First Order about the system's entrance into the empire; however, after the miraculous defeat at Skor II, they have become less inclined to the idea. Officers of the FOSB and the government are to coerce the Fondorians to officially declare themselves under the influence of the First Order.

Bomb Threat - Objective II: While 'diplomacy' is underway, the army has designated a five-kilometre perimeter around the site of said negotiations to occupy. Domestic terrorists, reportedly tied to the Reformation, have begun a campaign of guerrilla warfare in the area, including the smuggling of a bomb into the diplomatic venue. Civilian casualties are expected, but put a stop to it before the lives of our leaders are threatened.

Joyride - Objective III: Concurrent to the incident on the surface, a recently-retrofitted star destroyer has been seized by rebel elements from one of the orbital shipyards. Engineers aboard managed to sabotage the hyperdrive before being killed, preventing it from leaving the system until repaired. The military is to disable, capture, or destroy the vessel before it does.

Urban Exploration - Objective IV: Rumours of rogue Order of Ren members located in the vast underground steam tube network have not escaped notice. Knights and Praetorians alike know what to do in this situation: Wipe them out, all of them.

BYOO - Objective V: The entire planet is open to your ambitions, make it worthwhile.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Objective: I
Location: FIV Indefatigable, Fondor Orbit
Point of View: Captain Terrence Milizak

He watched her clandestinely as he reviewed the information coming in from the rest of the fleet. Grand Moff Fortan, the Iron Lady of the Western Reaches. Ms. Butter-Wouldn't-Melt. He had a natural distaste for politicians, and though Milizak was aware of Fortan's protestations to the obvious, he remained unconvinced of her glory. On her orders -- hers and her Government's -- his brother had died in battle over Skor II. He died and Natasi Fortan scampered away from the wreck of Concordia, free to avoid the consequences of her foolish ambitions. It was all Milizak could do not to sneer. She was smaller in person, he thought; though she was a bit taller than the average woman, she seemed somewhat frail, in a black uniform and a voluminous black officer's cloak that seemed to be swallowing her whole.

It was ridiculous. And here she was, cluttering up his bridge.

"Captain," called the communications officer. "It looks like that ship that broke away from the shipyard was indeed hijacked by rebel elements. Naval forces are moving to engage."

"Thank you, Lieutenant," said Milizak. The Captain turned to Natasi and arranged his figures into a placid posture. He approached and offered her a curt salute. "Grand Moff, we have received reports of a rogue capital-class vessel in the system. Although we do not expect it to pose a threat to naval security, it is perhaps prudent for you to accelerate your plans to move to the surface. We should hate to see a repeat of the dreadful situation at Skor II. Shall I have your shuttle prepared for launch?"

The Grand Moff considered this; the way her dark eyes bored coolly into his gave Milizak pause. Could he tell how little regard he had for her? Was the contempt visible, or did its scent linger? He swallowed as he waited for her response. After a moment, the Grand Moff's head inclined. "I appreciate your kind concern, Captain. I think perhaps you could do without the distraction. Please make preparations. I think a TIE escort would be appropriate."

A small price to pay to get this woman off my ship, thought Milizak. "As you say, ma'am. I shall arrange it." He watched her give one last look around the bridge, then turn to the turbolift. He turned as well, stalking back to his command station. "See that the Grand Moff's diplomatic shuttle is prepared to launch, and order a full squadron of TIE fighters to escort her to the surface."

 

[Karl Von Strauss]

Objective III
Location: FIV Anastasia, In orbit of Fondor
Allies: [member="Natasi Fortan"]

Karl's vessel, the Anastasia, shot out from hyperspace along with two other star destroyers of the same class. Captain Von Strauss asked his sensor officer to run a full scan of the system. While the officer began the scan, a total of six ships filed out of hyperspace. A pair of Imperial-X's, a trifecta of Sabres, and a sole Vanguard. After a while the sensor officer climbed out of the pit and walked to the left side of Karl's command chair. "Sir, we have one confirmed contact at this time. It is a retrofitted star destroyer, from reports I've heard from the orbital shipyard, it's hyperdrive has been sabotaged. It has been designated a disable, kill, or capture. It can't escape the First Order's grasp, sir." Captain Von Strauss nodded in appreciation of the report. then he stood up and walked to the glassteel window and looked out at the shipyard and the rouge star destroyer. He turned around to face his bridge crew. "Alright, everyone inform your sections on what is about to happen and inform the rest of the fleet. Ahead quarter speed, arrowhead formation with the sabres in front, followed by the destroyers, and finally the vanguard will behind both. Have all weapons primed and ready." He waited for a few seconds, "Now, Schiffe Vor."

The ships lurched forward at quarter speed, hellishly slow, since Karl didn't know the extent of the rouge star destroyer's crew, nor if it was going to receive back up in any sort of way.

​

Spoiler

Imperial-X II Class Star Destroyers (x)
FIV Anastasia
FIV Belle
FIV White

Sabre Class Escort Frigates (x)
FIV Tirpitz
FIV Bismarck II
FIV Hipper

Vanguard Class Carrier (x)
FIV Zahn

 

[The Major]

Agent Krakower
Aboard the FIV Silencer
Space over Fondor, near Lagrange Point L2
Objective 2: Bomb Threat
Morale: Neutral

A Star Destroyer was more than hangers bays and a bridge filled with arrogant, aristocratic officers barking out commands and demanding read outs. Besides the detachment of marines in place to defend a ship from boarders, and even the vast crew, there were a number of auxiliary units effectively renting space on any particular ship.

In particular there was one unit of FOSB members working their intelligence op abroad this Star Destroyer. Since the new Director had taken the reigns a lot within the organization had changed: namely, the size of the Bureau. The number of agents employed at tripled since 851 ABY, and rumors were that it was only going to keep ramping up as new subdivisions and internal groups were formed. Something of note was how high the percentage of raw and new recruits saw promotion during this explosion of personnel: recruits designed to replace a disastrous casualty rate during the twin battles for Dagobah. Not all too many veterans had survived the final phases of the war with the Galactic Alliance. For the new blood it presented a fantastic opportunity in the form of a fast tracking career.

Agent Reila Krakower was one such opportunistic up and comer, but she certainly wouldn’t call herself anything that implied perfidiousness. She had earned her lumps in the Sump academy, and as long as her assignments kept her away from field assignments on the Coalition border then she would continue to pursue her career within the Security Bureau.

Cracking her hands she began to lean over her console while receiving telemetry from the surface of the world. The mission briefing had been concise: assist in monitoring the agents below, direct radio chatter back to headquarters, and essentially oversee the efforts to thwart a bomb plot before terrorists could make mincemeat of some First Order VIPs down on Fondor’s surface.

So essentially: a milk run. Standard operation. Low risk. Reila could make sure she followed her protocols and maybe catch of feed of a First Order assault team busting in on some rebels. It would be a great day.

Then an icon popped up on her screen to link for a conference transmission. This wasn’t too unusual. Agent Krakower made sure that some loose strands of black hair were pushed and tucked underneath her imperial cap and pushed the button begin receiving.

The face on the other side made her gasp and seize...

 

[FN-2499]

Objective: 2
Aboard the FIV Silencer:
[member="The Major"]


FN-2499's special forces unit Bravo Team was tasked with aiding the FOSB in dealing with a bomb threat dealing with the planet. Now as the young man knew he was trained for these certain types of situations, yet whether he would be able to deal with it without any type of mess would be another issue entirely as since his first training exercises on Tibrin. He was feeling somewhat skittish as he and his team were transferred to the FIV Silencer to connect with one of the ongoing agents there for a mission briefing. What were they up against? Were their any hostages? Was there any opposition that the team needed to deal with at all.

A lot of certain unknown variables came into play as Candor approached one of the FOSB agents. Clad in his black armor, with red stripes. The Storm Commando didn't have much experience in dealing with the shadowy group, but he did know that they were almost never wrong. In fact the military relied heavily on them to get intel, and often worked closely with them to make sure the job was always done.

Approaching the agent slowly. He spoke through the vocabulator of his helmet, his HUD getting all types of readings from the ship, as he stood at attention. His blaster rifle hung closely to his chest as he addressed the agent. "Agent Krakower... FN-2499 with Bravo Team to help aid in the supposed bomb threat we have been hearing about. We are at your service for what you need for us to do Sir."

 

[Kier Grey]

Kyli DT-6767
Fondor Surface, Near Fondor Parliament
Objective: II - Bomb Threat

Circling high above Fondor's parliament is a single LAAT/i Gunship whirring around in a circle steadily with its' doors hugging the fuselage's rear. In the Troop bay there is a sole individual visible from the outside; Kyli DT-6767 with both legs slung out haphazardly outside the bay's confines dangling freely towards the hard asphalt below. The diplomatic event required overwatch and who better to provide such a vital part of operational security than one of the First Order's most dangerous warriors? Kyli took a sense of personal pride in her craft and viewed herself humbly as being separate from Human entirely and that sentiment is too often shared by her comrades within the Special Forces who greeted the former Stormtrooper often with a mix of derision and relief depending on just how forlorn any given situation the Death Trooper joined them.

Like some avian predator searching the Earth for its' prey Kyli's eyes study the visual feed produced across her helmet-mounted display. Unlike the Stormtrooper Gear that Kyli had worn in years passed she didn't need to physically weld her 'cheek' to the weapon and stare down the optic sight, no. Death Trooper equipment and weapons are far more intuitive and advanced, nearly ten million credits were sunk into each Trooper when the budgetary minister took their augmentations and the powered armour that had become ubiquitous. "Pilot I'm not identifying any suspicious activity, give me a sight line on the Parliament's entrance." Kyli could have efforlessly shifted across the troop bay to the other open door in the blink of an eye but didn't want the streets below absent her hawkish gaze.

 

[Prennis Keeoli]

| Goal: Objective 2 |
| Location: Near the parliament building on the ground |

Someone wasn't taking kindly to the idea of First Imperial and Fondorian diplomacy it would seem. What the Sixth Fleet adjunct was concerned with was the Order expecting civilian casualties. Expecting. That word had boiled Aes'ona's blood when the briefing had come across her desk on FIV Malice. After spending so long treating combat wounds and reporting war casualties, she vowed a change. A change against her instinct for the safety of a well-stocked and defended medbay, but a change nonetheless: she agreed to help the FSOB foil any terrorist plots. Given she was allowed to treat any civilians wounded along the way. Naturally.

Aes'ona sat near the parliamentary building, watching for the agent she was meant to meet, [member="Luther Ando"]. She adjusted the sidearm pistol hidden underneath her long cardigan. She took a deep breath and looked down at her datapad, pretending to read. Don't scan for too long, she had been advised by a fellow doctor. Did he know anything about how to conduct oneself on intelligence missions? Likely not, not as far as his resume told Aes'ona, but neither did she and she didn't know any better.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Objective I: Gunboat Diplomacy
Post: 2
Point of View: Syndra Cornam, Diplomatic Aide

Syndra looked up from her briefing book when the door to the shuttle's passenger lounge opened. She quickly pushed away from the table and stood, working her feet into her shoes as she rose. "Ma'am," said Syndra, looking flustered. "Did I misread the time? I understood we were leaving at 1100." Syndra examined the woman as she entered; she was all cheekbones and heavily lidded brown eyes, so dark as to be almost black, swathed in a black traveling cloak.

"No, you did not," was the woman's response. "The Captain suggested that we make planetfall ahead of schedule due to a security concern." The Grand Moff moved to the opposite side of the table Syndra at which Syndra was sitting. "May I?"

The diplomatic aide looked dumbly at Natasi for a moment, then said: "Uh, please."

"As you were," said Natasi.

Syndra sat down and self-consciously straightened her briefing book, and tried to resume her review, but she couldn't resist looking up at the Grand Moff opposite her. There she was; the end goal of everyone in the diplomatic service. Though Syndra was young -- only twenty-two, fresh out of university -- she had ambitions. An aide now, she had every intention of going the distance. Consul, surely, and Ambassador by the time she was thirty. Foreign Secretary perhaps. Grand Moff, in the offing?

"Yes, can I help?"

The polite but somewhat chilled voice from the Grand Moff snapped Syndra out of her reverie and she realized that she had been staring at Natasi. "I'm so sorry, it's just -- I've never been alone with you before, ma'am. I'm a little nervous."

"Don't be nervous, Syndra -- " The Aide's eyes widened slightly; the Grand Moff knew her name? -- "There's nothing to be afraid of. Our cause is just and we have our protectors to left and right."

"I'm nervous because..." Stupid! Syndra's silenced herself and looked down at her book again.

There was a frigid silence for a moment, and then Natasi spoke again. "Because of me?" Syndra looked up again. The Grand Moff had the good grace to look mildly embarrassed by the revelation. A touch of pink lit her cheeks and she bowed her head in apology. "I'm sorry. I can review my notes in the galley, if you'd rather be alone."

"No," said Syndra with unexpected force. "It's just that it's not very often I'm within arm's length of our Grand Moff." Syndra basked in the genuine smile Natasi offered her, and took the hand that was offered.

"I've seen you around the Palace," Natasi said. "But we've never been formally introduced. I'm Natasi Fortan."

"Syndra," said the aide. The hairs on her arm were standing up as if Natasi's hand was a live wire. Her stomach flipped uncomfortably, some combination of elation and terror. "Syndra Cornam."

There was a glint of recognition in Natasi's dark eyes. "Cornam -- no relation to Colonel Cornam, surely?"

"My uncle."

"An officer and a gentleman," said Natasi politely. She looked down; Snydra's eyes followed hers down to where their hands were still clasped. Instinctively, Syndra's fingers clasped more firmly around Natasi's. She didn't want to let go; there was a moment happening, Syndra knew. A moment that might never come around again. Natasi's eyebrows furrowed, but she didn't pull away. "I think you had the lead on drafting the report on our interactions with the Atrisians."

Syndra flushed and nodded enthusiastically. "I did, ma'am. I'm ever so flattered that you remembered."

"It was good work," Natasi said. "I appreciate thoroughness." Syndra didn't know what to say; her mouth felt dry. "You worked on the brief for this operation, too, didn't you? But not as lead."

"Right."

A wry look passed Natasi's face and she finally pulled her hand away. It was all Syndra could do to force herself to release it, and not clutch at it like some demented shire-dwelling creature reaching for its precious. "I could feel Antony Dunal's fingerprints all over it. His work is -- adequate, of course -- but I feel he has rather a heavy editing hand, don't you?" Syndra couldn't help but smile, but her answer came in the form of a snorting laugh and a nod. "Perhaps you could brief me on Fondor. The Foreign Secretary was meant to, but some sort of personal crisis prevented it. Would you mind awfully?"

Well. Syndra Cornam could have been knocked over with a feather.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Objective: V - BYOO
Location: Orbit of Fondor's moon, Nallastia

The First Order and the Atrisian Commonwealth were learning how to work in tandem.

While the First Order focused on bringing the Guild of Starshipwrights on Fondor into the fold, the Atrisian Commonwealth had been handling negotiations with the Fondorian's historical and political rivals in orbit of the planet. From the forest moon on Nallastia, the Margrave Octan ruled over a terraformed colony that had been thousands of years in the making. It had a unique culture that was not unlike that of his own. A pirate kingdom that had adapted to more modern times.

The Atrisian ship arrived in orbit of the forest moon, separate and distinct from the First Order vessels that were beginning to arrive into the Fondor System.

Shoma had been able to entice the Nallastians by inviting them to host an economic summit that would bridge together political entities from across this part of space. Herglics from the important world of Giju, with its access to the Giju Run hyperlane, and Mrlssi from the influential Mrlsst Trade and Science University.

It was a collection of the most influential players in the regional economy, outside of the Fondor industrialists. So, while the First Order worked on aligning the industrialists to its cause, Shoma could work on building a bridge to the other economic reaches of this sector.

Not without some personal stake in all of this.

Atrisia was a planet on the Giju Run hyperlane. Economic stimulus here might entice further trade along the hyperlane that supplied his own homeworld.

Enrich the Herglics. Enrich the First Order. Enrich Atrisia.

Everyone's a winner, right?

 

[Luther Lewis]

Location: Within the Diplomatic Perimeter.
Objective 2: Find the Source of the Bomb Threat.

​

The outside air was crisp and cool, a refreshing contrast the heat found in most factories on Fondor. Leaving the manufacturing district behind him, Luther was looking forward to clean air. Two months of undercover work had seen Luther coordinating a team deep in the heart of industrial industry. Corporation leaders had a great deal of funds and a lot of pull in politics, thus it had been Luther’s job to make sure the money flowed in the right direction.

Not anymore, however. He had received a call from his Station Chief; he was being reassigned. The First Order Fleet had arrived, and negotiations were about to begin. He was to read his new briefing and meet with a @Dr. Aes’ona Terrani.

Luther had shed his old undercover gear and donned a medical uniform, which was in turn hidden by a large black coat. He re-read the brief on his walk through the Government district, pausing to show his ID as he passed through the checkpoint into the diplomatic perimeter.

“Doctor Terrani” Luther offered a polite smile and a handshake. She was almost a foot shorter than him. “I’ve been assigned to work with you. I’m sure you’ve done your reading up on me” Luther sat next to her and retrieved a stapled document from his bag. “However,” Luther continued. “You’ll need to refer to me as Jonathan Zane”. He passed the document over. It contained a summary of Luther's alias. He was to be a paramedic, assisting the good Doctor.

“There has been an attempted bombing at a nearby checkpoint” Luther said. “Not the bomb we are concerned with, but it may be related. One of the terrorists was caught in the blast and was unable to flee. I propose we travel there and attempt to find some answers”. He paused and added: "It's important that we aren't identified as members of The Order, let me know if you have an alias in mind, otherwise I'll simply refer to you as 'Doctor' ".

He stood up and stretched. It was going to be a long day. He radioed in a quick check with the handler, Agent Krakower, to ensure he had a proper connection. He turned back to Terrani. “Any questions or concerns?".

| [member="The Major"] | [member="FN-2499"] | [member="Kyli DT-6767"] |​

 

[Prennis Keeoli]

| Objective 2 < Investigate the attempted bombing |​

| Location: Near Parliment |

Glancing up from her holopad as soon as a humanoid figure obstructed the sunlight beating down on her, she saw [member="Luther Ando"], the familiar face from her FOSB briefing file, and stood. She gladly returned his handshake though she felt it was made a little awkward by the height difference.

They sat down again for an exchange of information. Aes'ona looked over the new file briefly before setting it on top of her datapad and putting it away in her white tote bag. "Thanks very much, Jonathan," she affirmed, testing the name on her tongue and silently willing herself to forget the name Luther for the time being. "Seems sound to me," she added after listening to his proposal, nodding.

"I'm Doctor Aes'ona Forr for the perceivable future," she explained next. Some FOSB agent had asked the doctor to identify an alias that would be easy to remember, seeing as Aes'ona was anything but a seasoned agent. She could memorize the anatomies of handfuls of species and keep them straight, but something about non-medical names made them tend to slip her mind. As Aes'ona barely ever used her given name in her line of work or much in her pretty-much-non-existent personal life either--at least not in a terribly public way--it seemed like a safe choice on both fronts: to remember and to keep her under the radar. And Forr, well, for much the same reason.

She stood quickly after Luther had, anxious but excited to start in on their mission. "Only one. What exactly is the plan for getting those answers?"

 

[Seto Du Couteau]

Seto Du Couteau, Ren
Equipment: FO-07K Multi-purpose Assault Armor | TCB-42 Infiltration Droid "Spot"
Location: Zone 4, 8th Service Hatch

Allies: Order of Ren

​

Objective IV: Scouring the Service Tunnels ​

"Defiantly not a sewer they said, it won't smell they said."

A weary sighed escaped through gritted teeth as the young Du Couteau slowly walked forward to one of the entrances labeled to him by his droid. The service hatched opened, after some persuasion from his droid, and Seto slowly scaled down the ladder and into main service hallway. He noted the rather above normal heat temperature but his droid calmed his nerves that the majority of the steams pipes were no longer in use and that what was only left was the heat residue. Expect some heat, but don't worry about being cooked alive in your armor.

The thought did not enthuse the young Du Couteau as he continued to walk down the stretch, his senses flared up around through the Force and Seto paused for a moment. Whispers, slight aberrations and shimmers, certainly something but not enough to act without precaution. His droid silently hovered ahead, its own scanners worked double time as it attempted to detect any recent control tampering or usage. At least it doesn't smell abhorrently in here. Seto took whatever solace he could for the moment, even if his helmet's filters could easily mask a majority of such offending smell.

Seto continued his slow, but meticulous, search of his section of the pipe system and noted an increase of a fleeting Force presence. Perhaps if he spent some time practicing he could possibly grasp and seize such an opportunity in front him. Instead he took a rather slow approach, but certainly thorough method of locating this renegade Ren siblings. His droid sent a silent alarm into Seto's HUD, it had picked up some interesting key inputs and several terminals up ahead had been reprogrammed to redirect anyone to a different section as a detour and locked any attempt to use the terminal through a very complex security program.

Well, complex for the young Du Couteau, his droid sent an additional message that it would only need a few minutes to hack and gain access into these terminals and unlock the doors ahead. Seto kept his arms on either side of him, but he clenched his fists as he attempted to distract himself from the real issue he had with his mission.

He had no qualm with the prospect of an arrest of rouge agents of Ren, but- Enough. Seto steeled himself as his droid indicated to him that the doors were now open and that it hadn't detected any signs of life either. Seto kept his hands away from his weapons as he walked forward, his senses through the Force flared around him once more and now the faint trail Seto had detected earlier grew ever so slightly.

"They who swear on the First Order flag has nothing left that belongs to them," Seto recited to himself. And to break such a promise?

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Objective: V - BYOO
Location: Mount Octan, Nallastia

The reigning Margrave Octan had an impressive venue.

Carved out of the side of a dormant volcano, Skull Castle was a fortress that dated back to the midst of the Old Republic. While quaint and antiquated by modern standards, the battlements still provided a stunning vista overlooking the forested valleys below.

It was quite a meeting of contrasts. The massive Herglics and the diminutive Mrlssi making small talk around where the human Atrisians and Nallastians were intermingled.

"I understand your reluctance, Madam Secretary," the Atrisian teen said. Shoma was presently exchanging small talk with the Mrlsst government's secretary of commerce, a small avian alien who had a brilliant plume of peacock-like feathers arrayed behind her head. "But I think you'll find the economic advantages out weigh many of the detractors you may be taking into consideration."

Terrorist activity from Shoma's own former compatriots being one of them.

The Mrlssi's feathers ruffled. She was rather indigent to the idea of Mrlsst coming under the First Order. "I appreciate your candor, but Mrlsst independence is something that our people..."

A disturbance in the Force.

The boy's head came up. Distracted, he glanced around the rampart that had been converted into a outdoor patio for the discussions this afternoon.

"Is something the matter, Prince Shoma?"

The Mrlssi secretary's voice snapped the teen from out of his reverie. Flashing his default political smile, the youth gave a slight nod of his head. "My apologies, Madam Secretary," the teen intoned politely. "I just remembered something that I need to attend to."

With a series of bows, the teen stepped aside and then walked a few steps away from where he'd left the side of the Mrlssi woman. His right hand traveled across his body, fingers touching the cold metal of the lightsaber at his side.

The Atrisian protocol droid was ambling up beside him. The guarded posture seemed to have no escaped the droid's notice. "Heika, daijabou?" GeeGee asked, switching to the Xiaolang dialect of Atrisian.

It had only been for a moment, but Shoma had felt something.

Something he hadn't felt since Dagobah.

"Wakarimasen," the teen answered flatly.

He had a bad feeling about this.

 

[Luther Lewis]

Location: Enroute to secondary bomb site.
Objective 2: Find the Source of the Bomb Threat.

​

Luther opened mouth to speak, abruptly closing it again as loud ‘thunk’ of landing gear hit the ground behind him. “Ahhh, here is our ride” Luther said. The vehicle was an ambulance shuttle and served as a highly maneuverable solution to emergencies within the complex and crowded Fondor streets. Luther gestured towards the vehicle, and they boarded.

Settled comfortably on one of the seats, Luther rummaged through his medical bag while the vehicle ferried them to their destination. He pulled out a capped syringe, holding it aloft to show [member="Dr. Aes'ona Terrani"]. “This is what we’ll use to extract the information”. He passed it over to her. “A truth serum” Luther continued. “Hypo, to be specific. Mixed in with a mild anesthetic, which will help mask the effects of the drug. The dosage is already corrected, you'll just need to administer it ".

Next, he brought up a datapad and navigated towards the relevant file. “Here’s the first responders summary on the patient’s injuries” Luther started. “Second degree burns across the back, shrapnel wound in right thigh and significant blood loss”. Luther paused to swipe to the next screen. “The shrapnel has yet to be removed” he continued. “The paramedics on-site are worried that its removal will exacerbate bleeding”.

He looked up to stare Terrrani in the eyes. “We're working on a time limit here. The man has already burned through one unit of packed red blood cells. But my orders are clear. Our disguises won't work in a hospital setting, so the patient isn't to be evacuated until we have the answers” His face settled into a grim line.

A shudder through vehicle indicated they had arrived. Pulling a lever, Luther opened the door. “After you, Doctor Forr”.

| [member="The Major"] | [member="FN-2499"] | [member="Kyli DT-6767"] |​

 

[Eisenweber]

TK-0023 "Lothia"
Fondor Surface, Near Parliament, Checkpoint Aurek
Nearby: [member="Luther Ando"], [member="Dr. Aes'ona Terrani"]
Objective: II - Bomb Threat

Knees anchored against the pavement Lothia in a thrust pushes both of her gloved hands down atop the quagmire of pale sinewy bone, peach and crimson coloured tissue is thrown across the boltgun grey Asphalt flanking the white-armoured Master Sergeant like a bloody moat her green spheres peer up from behind her polarised visor upto a private; one of the recent replacements. "Go to the aid post and get me a casevac down here now!" Lothia's kathol-accented voice screams in a shrill towards the young transfer prompting him into action.

Turning gaze now to the man who lay with blackened pale skin and a pair of deep blue orbs that dart around wildly, tiny geysers of blood pushing their way up between the gaps in his teeth, chittering prayers to his gods and mother that he might be saved. The Irony was not lost on Lothia; the man had launched a suicide mission in his attempt to grenade Lothia's checkpoint and found himself caught in the devastating explosion not claiming a single Stormtrooper in his vainglorious attempt at martyrdom.

It was the purest reflection of the goodness that lay beneath Lothia's hardened exterior that she attempts to comfort a man in shock who but moments earlier desired to see the 'Tyrants' dead. "Sir, you're going to be okay!" A desperate lie that Lothia so casually utter although inwardly she pleaded noiselessly with her gods that it will prove true. Straddling the portly gentleman Lothia's left-knee presses down atop the man's waist in an attempt to stem the circulation through the vein and artery that travelled up and down the centre of a Human torso.

Around the one-handed grenadier, two other Stormtroopers bearing the grey markings of the 104th Battalion begin applying tourniquets around the man's limbs in an attempt to curb his blood loss. "Sixty-Eight, give him some IV bacta." Lothia ordered in a disturbingly calm tone, tactfully concealing her own fright at the situation beneath the solid facade of a hardened combat non-commissioned officer looking to another she gives another Order nodding helmeted head in the direction of an empty tracked APC sitting safely behind a pile of sandbags. "Get the Oh-Negative red packs out of the vehicle! We're going to perform a field transfusion." It was obvious to the other Troopers that their Platoon Sergeant had decided against moving the patient, they weren't going to have sufficient time to prepare him for transport. They would have to stabilise him here or not at all.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Objective I: Gunboat Diplomacy
Point of View: Syndra Gornam
Post Number: 3

The rest of the journey to the planet was spent in professional conversation, though Syndra could hardly believe her luck. She was tempted to pinch herself to see if she was dreaming. The Grand Moff of the entire First Order, listening to her, Syndra Gornam from Nowhere-on-Nowhere, post-code 00000, was a thrill. When the ship landed, Natasi invited Syndra to accompany her to the negotiations, although that was quite beyond her brief. It was a real compliment, Syndra thought, and she accepted readily. They bundled into the back of an armored landspeeder and they were off towards the Parliament. "Can I ask you a question, ma'am?" asked Syndra as she looked across the seat at the Grand Moff.

The Grand Moff, for her part, was peering at her reflection in a compact and touching up her makeup. Syndra wanted to ask what shade lipstick she was putting on, too, but she stuck with the professional for the time being. "Our Foreign Office suggests that the reason the Fondorians are reluctant to commit now is because of the events at Skor II. Do you think they're right?"

Natasi was silent for a moment; Syndra watched as the older woman carefully applied her lipstick, waiting. Finally, Natasi put the lid back on her lipstick and looked beyond the mirror to Syndra. "I doubt it very much," was the response, flat and businesslike. "They'll give that reason because they hope it will embarrass us into changing our course. They want what Atrisia got, but unfortunately Atrisia and Fondor are not at all similarly situated. Independent vassal states aren't for everyone; after all if they were, what would the First Order have to govern? From where would we get our ships and our soldiers? But what they don't realize is that we have nothing to be embarrassed for when it comes to Skor. We lost, but we weren't beaten. Can you imagine, being beaten by a band of teenaged ne'er-do-wells like the Outer Rim Coalition?"

By now, Syndra could almost taste the poison dripping from the Grand Moff's lips. "But that doesn't weaken our position?"

The Grand Moff had an eyeliner pencil now, and she spoke in a semi-distracted tone as she carefully touched up her makeup. "Of course not. We will get Fondor, today or tomorrow or next month or next year. We will have it, that part is already settled. And Skor -- well, if they read into Skor some kind of weakness or failure then that is all the bigger mistake for them to regret. I really can't say why we lost Skor II, Syndra, but it wasn't failure on our part and we certainly weren't outperformed by the Coalition. Do you know, my late husband and I were quite different from a religious standpoint. I am, as you may know, an Equilibriate, a follower of the Cosmic Balance."

"Your faith holds that for every bit of good or evil done in the galaxy, somewhere, the opposite is being done to balance it out."

Natasi smiled tightly. "You've read my biography."

"All six of them, ma'am."

"Oh dear. That many?" Natasi put the cap back on her eyeliner and tucked it back into her handbag. "As far as I can tell, we lost because it was our turn to lose. It had nothing to do with them or their idiotic Mandalorian tools and everything to do with the fact that, perhaps, the galaxy couldn't stand to see the First Order triumphant forever." She pulled out a brush and began to run it through her chestnut locks. Syndra detected the scent of Galidraani wildflowers and vanilla. "My husband, on the other hand, believed in a God. I don't know how much I go in for all that, but he would tell you that our retreat from Skor II was a result of a vengeful God. I would call it an ill-advised temper tantrum brought on by envy and impotent rage, but who are we, mere mortals, to question the divine? In any event, it would certainly explain the miraculous appearance of a long-extinct species of space kraken. But in reality, we retreated because we suspected that one of their Jedi sorcerers were attempting to sexually coerce our troops. No tinpot junkyard of a planet is worth subjecting our men and women to that kind of humiliation."

Syndra blanched, looking at Natasi, who suddenly grew quiet. Had the Grand Moff overshared? Syndra cleared her throat and went on: "So the Fondorians are hesitating in hopes of a better deal, hoping to leverage our embarrassment, but that won't work."

"That's correct," Natasi said, her tone matter of fact and steely. "And do you know why?"

"Because we have nothing to be embarrased about?" Syndra ventured hopefully.

Natasi's smile was cool. "True, but that's not the main reason. The main reason is because I will take Fondor from the Parliament if they resist me. If I have to burn the entire lot of them in Parliament Square and declare myself Queen Regent of this damnable planet, I will do it, because I have neither the time nor the inclination to beat around the bush with these people. We had an agreement; their Foreign Minister shook hands with ours, and that is what I will hold them to. Oh dear, are we here already?"

Syndra wasn't quite sure, but she thought she could see hellfire in the Grand Moff's eyes as she leaned forward to look out the armored transparisteel window. "If that's what it takes, ma'am... I'll fetch the kerosene."

 

[Karl Von Strauss]

Objective III
Location: FIV Anastasia, In Orbit of Fondor
Allies: First Order
Attacking: [member="Rogue"] Star Destroyer

​

Karl's lieutenant-commander, stepped in front of Captain Von Strauss. "Sir, the rogue star destroyer is now in rang of our long-range and fore turrets. May we proceed with the attack?" Karl's gloved hand rubbed his chin, "Is the ship of any real use to the Order?" Karl asked his XO. The LtC shook his head 'no.' A sensor officer lifted his head, "He's right sir, its just a retrofitted destroyer, one of thousands." Karl reached into his jacket and pulled out a flask, he took a quick swig and put it back in his jacket. "Then, what are we waiting for? Deploy the TIE fighters, and full forward firepower." He made his hand into the shape of a blaster and put his thumb down simulating a shot, just as the long-range and forward turrets began to unleash their fury upon the rogue star destroyer.

Underneath, three squadrons of TIE's left each of the massive star destroyers. They screamed past the Sabres as they prepared for bombing runs.

​

​

Spoiler

Imperial-X II Class Star Destroyers (x)
FIV Anastasia
FIV Belle
FIV White

Sabre Class Escort Frigates (x)
FIV Tirpitz
FIV Bismarck II
FIV Hipper

Vanguard Class Carrier (x)
FIV Zahn

TIE Bomber Group
x3 TIE/FO MkIII (x)
x6 TIE/FO-SK (x)

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Praetorian Initiate
Objective IV
Equipment | Praetorian Armour, Vibro-arbir Blades, Lightsaber (blue), Throwing Knives
Location | Tube No.2, Zone 4, Underground Steam Tube Network, Fondor
Allies | Order of Ren, [member="Eighth Guard"] (with), [member="Seto Du Couteau"] (nearby)
Enemies | Order of Ren Apostates
Status | Tracking

[SIZE=11pt]Slightly further away within the labyrinth of pipes, unknowingly echoing the lament of one Seto Du Couteau, the blonde let out a silent sigh filled with all the rue and desolation of a person who felt they have gotten the brunt of an unpleasant assignment too many times. In their mission briefing, intelligence has clearly stated that the traitors were sighted entering and exiting the underground steam tube network and that they were most likely using it as a base. But standing in the vast circular durasteel pipes with white steam curling around her armoured form, Marriskcal could not help but be reminded of yet another sewer. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Joy and felicitations. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Despite the distaste Marriskcal held for the damp location, her gaze was sharp and predatory as she stalked down the long pathway. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Her presence in the force was muted to a near indiscernible whisper for their hunt, but the simmering fury that clouded her aura was probably clear to her partner due to their familiarity with one other. As someone who was thoroughly the Supreme Leader’s creature, she was unwaveringly loyal and true to their Lord and Master. The very thought that there were apostates from the Order of Ren was abhorrent to the young woman and filled her with deep loathing.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]She paused in her step as she felt the thread of an unfamiliar presence drifting across her senses. Within the confines of her helmet, Marriskcal’s lips curved into a derisive sneer even as her hand tightened its grip around her weapon. “Eight, I’ve caught the tail end of one of their presences.”[/SIZE]

 

[The Dragon]

Objective 3

The First Order had come in force for Fondor.

Not as big a force as other planets, but all the same, they had come.

The Dragon was a new rebel. Very familiar with the way the First Order operated. It took time, but he had traveled across the First Order, to the planets that had been subjugated by Imperial might. Destroy the resistant militias first. That's how it tended to work. Take away the militias, and then what?

Still have to test that process out.

But till then, he was content with fabricating his own identity in the Imperial underground.

To start, he had seized a retrofitted Star Destroyer at Fondor's shipyards. The goal was to hand it over to Jedi Reformation forces, but before they could leave the system, the engineers had quickly worked to sabotage the hyperdrive system. So that's where he was going now.

To deal with them.

It doesn't help being fired at though.

[member="Karl Von Strauss"]

 

[Prennis Keeoli]

| Objective 2 < Administer Hypo and extract intel from the terrorist |
| Location: Attempted bombing site|
| Nearby: [member="TK-0023"] |

Ah, was all Aes'ona thought when shown the Hypo. Of course, she had been expecting something of the like. There were very limited options when one needed to get accurate information from an insurgent quietly.

She had almost no qualms with the drug in this situation.

She would have preferred to hospitalize and stabilize the terrorist before interrogation, but [member="Luther Ando"] had been clear. Instead of dwelling on what couldn't be done, Doctor 'Forr' focused on the opposite: what could be done. The insight they would gain, the innocent lives they could save. Plus, in this case, a potential life of a criminal was well worth the safety of both the talks and all the people standing in the way. Giving a reassuring nod, Aes'ona affirmed, "Perfectly understood."

With that, the doctor stepped out of the ambulance shuttle into the street. The scene that greeted her shook her core momentarily, but she quickly pushed it aside. She continued ahead a few yards, scanning over the few faces she could make out for the target.