Into Darkness - First Order Dominion of the Spires of Hell

[Samka Derith]

Spires of Hell​

[SIZE=11pt]The First Order expands ever further into their once home among the Unknown Regions. A short distance away from Zonama Sekot, the First Order has spotted an anomaly in a system of total darkness. Ships have been travelling to and from a system with no sun and no warmth. The Spires of Hell are an ancient ruin. Otherwise empty rocks of dust, the only intriguing features being the immense spires towering into orbit, the products of technology the rest of the galaxy has long since lost. Their now primitive population lives within a lone spire, kept fed and alive by technology they no longer understand. But perhaps not all there are the primitives they seem to be...[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]1. Bring Hell[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]They thought they could hide from us here, worthless insects who fear the warmth of civilisation…[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Our conquests have picked up many people opposed to our way of life, particularly from our first wave of assaults against the Galactic Alliance. These movements have been, by and large, stomped out with ruthless efficiency. However a list remains of resistance elements who have evaded authorities. Until now. The FOSB has identified an outpost of theirs here among the spires. To ensure their secrecy, they have hidden in the most extreme elements. There is little gravity, no sunlight and no breathable atmosphere which will prove to be an intense and difficult combat challenge to the most experienced of combat veterans. Purge these vermin from the galaxy and uncover any clues within the outpost to further enemy locations.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]2. Shed Light[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]What people exist here are naive, utterly cut off from the galaxy. Whether they have had any contact with the outside galaxy remains to be seen. They live solely within the Bluespire on the moon of Athelvai. How the habit is sustainable is of great interest to the First Order’s scientists. To learn the secrets of the system, we must gain the alignment of the locals to obtain full access by our researchers. It would be preferable that we remain on good terms. We should be prepared for any reaction to our appearance by the local people. To them we are an advanced alien civilisation and that tends to bring out an emotive response, friendly or hostile.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]3. Clear the Space Lanes[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Our initial expedition, a lightly armed science vessel has sent a distress beacon from near the Spires of Hell. Final transmission claims they were intercepted by a large fleet and boarded by Chiss pirates. While numerous Chiss warbands have appeared in the Unknown regions since the collapse of the Iron Empire, it is rare to have them appear so close to our space. Show them the error of their ways and save our crew.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]4. BYOO[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]As always, the First Order has a great many objectives and designs while expanding its borders. Feel free to create your own.[/SIZE]


-------

Spoiler

Jedi Padawan Dahina

Resistance Outpost - Within dead Spire on Dark One

It was hard to have hope in times like these. The First Order's pursuit was relentless. No sooner had it felt like this place had become liveable did they have to leave. Reaching out to the Force was of little comfort, this system was so... empty. So cold and dark, not from the Dark Side of the Force but from the sheer absence of anything. Her Masters told the Twi'lek apprentice that the Force flowed through all things, the rocks and dust around them included but it was hard to take comfort in. There was no feeling of death just... absence of life.

Dahina sighed and reached up to play with her lekku only to bump her hand into the helmet covering her head. Right. Full atmospheric body suits, the only way to survive down here. Perhaps it was good the First Order was coming in its own way, they could finally leave this mess. A world without a sun would be a place the First Order could never find us, they had said and yet the Imperials were knocking on the doorstep. In the future, they may as well hide somewhere nicer.

"How's it going, Rii?" Her coms crackled to hail the Aqualish engineer. Rii was working only a few yards ahead of her on a Starship but was visible only by the bright beam of light emitting atop the Jedi's helmet.

A few growls and grunts made the response. Always grouchy.

There was nothing for her to do but oversee the evacuation. With any luck the Chiss fleet they summoned would make enough of a distraction for them to make it out of here, that and the battle droids. Droids didn't need to breath, they could generate their own heat and had their own way of traversing the low gravity terrain. The droids would have a fighting advantage here against any organic attackers.

Dahina inhaled deeply, ill advised with the limited oxygen but it helped her focus on her meditation. It would not be long until the Imperial ground forces arrived to flush them out and she must be ready for them.

----

Spoiler

Bluespire - Athelvia, moon above Dark One

The Aaroun had waited a long time for this moment. Outsiders who had named themselves The First Order had contacted the matriarch. From there the civilians were told - aliens are coming. The streets were busy, decorated, welcoming. Bands had practised to greet the newcomers amid much pomp and circumstance yet and aura of nervousness remained throughout Bluespire. The Aaroun knew of life from other worlds, they had contact every so often. Their own folk stories even claimed the felines themselves had descended from the stars. But none had contacted them in the way this First Order had done so. A greeting and an invitation to join an empire. The opportunities were limitless, to finally rejoin the galactic community and reemerge from the darkness but what if the offer came at too great a price? That question sent a shudder down the spine of every citizen of Bluespire.

Who were The First Order? Were they a good people? Or would they bring ruin to their isolated civilisation? The Aaroun lined the streets waiting for the Imperial delegation with equal parts anticipation and fear.

----

Spoiler

Orbit close to Dark One

The First Order science vessel assigned to scout the system had met with an unlucky fate. A Chiss warlord fleet lured by the false promises by the resistance fighters had taken them prisoner. The First Order ship remained locked in place by an enemy tractor beam, any direct bombardment of the Star Destroyer could cost the First Order crew their lives. A few of the Imperial crew have already been killed, several have been taken on board the Star Destroyer to meet the insane Chiss leader as he evaluates their worth.

Guarding their Star Destroyer is a mash up of ships coming from the underworld, native Chiss designs and even one or two ships scavenged from the defunct Iron Empire. Corvettes, frigates and cruisers lay stationary, awaiting further orders. Fighter squadrons circled around waiting for their cue to return to their hangers. Many of the Chiss wanted to leave with their prize while they could. The warlord had other ideas, he waited to see what the First Order would do, whether they would send a greater prize for him to take.

If the system is to be secure for the First Order, the enemy fleet must be destroyed, captured or routed. The lives of the remaining science crew should be preserved if possible. Their sacrifice shall not be in vain.

 

[Armand Temi]

Objective 2, Shed Light
Allies: [member="Racosidae"]
Enemies: TBD

After spending (too much) time with the Stenax on the new Skye colony that had been promised to them after the battle of Ossus, another primitive species needed to be jostled out of its isolationist nest.

The Spires of Hell were a living testament to how beings strove to exist, even if it meant clinging to subsistence in the most inhospitable of places. From afar, flying in Agent Klev’s Scarab-Class Corvette, Ezra worried that he and his partner may struggle to land the ship on the surface of the spire. While he was quite certain it was not, it gave off a brittle quality as though a twig or an icicle.

“There are over a hundred thousand sentient beings which live upon the Bluespire. Yet from this distance it seems difficult to believe that such a celestial artifact can hold, not just water and life forms, but a full infrastructure.”

Ezra wore a pair of night-vision goggles and had an extra pair for his colleague should she choose to strap them on her head. The Imperial Agent was already blind in one eye so any boost to his sight in this murky environment was most welcome. As they grew closer, the Agent noticed a jutting landing pad and settled the ship upon it.

There was so much mystery here. Did they need environmental suits? Or was there enough oxygen in the atmosphere? There was mystery beside him as well as Ezra had not the pleasure of working with Racosidae, but like any new challenge, the seasoned Imperial embarked upon the mission with steel-like reserve, punctuated by extreme bouts of gusto.

“How did you come to be in the FOSB, Agent Racosidae?” he asked mistaking her for a spy and not a Disciple of Ren as he began to gather up supplies and test the oxygen level outside of the corvette.

 

[Uhtred Kjartan]

​

​

Recorded Location: Aboard a nearby destroy, mid-hyperspace towards the Chiss fleet
Objective: Three, clear the space lanes. Wipe out the Chiss hostiles
Allies: All First Order officials, [member="Kael Garick"]
Enemies: Pirates



The destroyer had been put on assignment yet again. The troopers aboard were briefed, the Starfighter Squadrons were briefed, and then the very few Special Forces pilots and their co-pilots had been briefed as well. Their objective was one of three, and it was to destroy the hostile Chiss pirates that had taken over a First Order science vessel nearby. His objective was to clear the space lane by destroying the hostile starfighters, or to clear entry for a boarding party, then freeing the ship itself from its tractor beam. Any of the options would be difficult, besides destroying the Chiss starfighters with their non-existent training and cheap weaponry. After the briefing, he went to the armory aboard the destroyer to equip himself with a sidearm, should he for some reason have to make an emergency landing or assist in boarding the now captured friendly vessel. Unfortunately, the only weapon he had been cleared for to fly with was some sort of pistol he himself had never used before, it had some sort of weight to it but anything would get the job done. Another weapon he was capable to check out from the armory was one melee weapon, a standard knife that he'd keep in his boot in case of capture.

After adequately arming himself, he made his way down the hall and was stopped into a stumble by the rocking of the ship lurching itself forward into hyperspace. The mission began. He carefully walked back to the barracks amidst the Stormtroopers running to the hangars to load their boarding craft, the pilots anxious to enter their TIE Fighters and take flight to assist in either the ground assault or take up the bigger offensive, take down the Chiss fleet. As he walked into the barracks, he was greeted by his fellow Co-Pilot, brand new to the special forces division of the Starfighter Corps. He seemed ancxious as well, but more level-headed than the newer pilots flying the standard TIE. With that, he performed his routine that he picked up in the past few operations: carve into the side of his helmet an I, detailing one operation done as special forces. Finally, he went towards the hangar loading bay and stood on the overwatch railing. He stood, ready to take down the Chiss fleet with one of those exit hyperspace and launch hundreds of starfighters like crushing a pregnant spider. He waited. The Stormtroopers waited. The Fleet waited. The pilots waited. And with that, the hangar became quiet as the PA boomed in: 'Exiting hyperspace soon. All personnel to stations.' The time had come. The blade of the guillotine that was the First Order was rising to drop down on the hostiles.

 

[Robogeber]

Post: I
Objective: III
Location: FIV Imperator | Command Deck
Allied Personnel: [member="Kilric Dysar "]| [member="Kael Garick"]
Enemies: Chiss Pirates
Theme: Axis Theme | Hearts of Iron IV [X]

​

Grand Admiral Carlyle Rausgeber watched the bridge crew of the Imperator as they made the final preparations for reversion from lightspeed. The Sixth Fleets executive officer cast a cold glare over his subordinates. Operational efficiency would be of the most upmost import for the crew. Lives hung in the balance here. First Order lives. And it would fall upon Carlyle ultimately if this mission at all failed. "Reversion from lightspeed," The Chief Navigator barked, "Ten seconds!" Carlyle's sole optical sensor trained itself on the viewport, from behind the thin facade, which projected a face.

Lightening speed and clinical brutality would see to the end of the Chiss here. But for this to work, all crewman would have to pull together. This was going to undoubtedly be a stressful operation for all involved. The bridge of the Imperator returned, from the blue glow of hyperspace. As the vessel, and her escorts reverted, the size of the Chiss fleet came into sharp relief. A snarl cut across Carlyle's projected lips, as he nearly instantaneously began to assess the situation. Already, he began to make calculations, and counter calculations, until he found, it. The vessel that they were most likely looking for.

Using established knowledge of Chiss doctrine, distilled from the writings of Mitth'raw'nuruodo, he knew that a Chiss wouldn't be as vain as to use the larger battlecruiser for its command centre. Amongst the patchwork vessels, and scrapped together corvettes, there was one vessel, which aesthetically seemed to fit the bill. And by that, it didn't look like it was welded together. No. It was different. A destroyer. Modestly sized, and yet not nearly as weak or as vulnerable as its counterparts. Something Chiss reveared. Efficiency over the propaganda value of other vessels. Carlyle smirked as he found his prize. His internal algorithms told him he had a 89.35% chance of being right. And with time of the essence, those odds were good enough for him.

"Target the destroyer to the flank, ion battery fire gentlemen. I want it disabled." Carlyle commanded, his repulsorlift now making the all too familiar, almost shimmering pulse as he pressed himself forwards, towards the central plating which divided the crew pits. The droids gaze was kept firmly on that one there. "Deploy fighters, and bombers." Rausgebers commands continue, "Disable its engines, and ensure it cannot escape our grasp." The droid then turned, and his cold gaze now met the Chief Gunnery Officer, who starred almost blankly back into the eyes of a long dead man. "The other vessels, I fear are immaterial to our objective."

"Leave no survivors."

 

[Dirk Bannahan]

Post 1, Obj 2: Shed Light
Misc Obj: Follow [member="Ezra Klev"] around
Targets: Possibly Ezra himself

Unlike her energetic handler for this particular mission, Rae was in every way lax in direct contrast to his upbeat nature and “can-do” spirit. She had mediated or otherwise stayed away all throughout their journey to the Spires of Hell. Nothing about this operation interested her too terribly save for the rock-concert venue sounding area. Eventually even the agent of the Ren forwent her melodramatic self exile in the rear of the corvette and moved up to cockpit with Ezra. Slouching in the leather seat, and checking her natural inclination to lackadaisically kick her boots up on the dash, she gave into some desire to not come across as a complete misanthrope -humoring the actual Security Bureau representative.

“Hah.” She laughed with a utter lack of humor, sounding like the deadpan fall of a lead block.

“You ask that like there was a choice. I was found somewhere that’s not as godforsaken as this place. Then I was told to go there, or elsewhere. It’s been like that ever since.” Rae turned her head from the viewport and instead followed Ezra as he made his last minute preparations.

He smelled delightfully. Like coffee. So much coffee that it seemed to permeate his skin and armor. Thanks to her unnatural abilities she could pick this out while they were on the ship. It caused her to think about actually drinking the stuff when she next got the chance.

 

[Shattered_Mirror]

When the Imperial taskforce had reverted out of the spiralling azure tunnel of hyperspace, spilling out into reality like hungry iron children, the Commandos of Omega Squad had found themselves sitting idle within their Interceptor’s cockpits. Their pre-flight checks were complete nearly half an hour ago, and the Starfighters were locked within their wall-mounted berths until the command had been given. There was little more for them to do as they waited. If they had clambered out of their fighters and got the mobilization order, after having to go through the lengthy process of starting the damned thing up, it would mean they’d be left behind - starving for glory - as their cousins in the Navy took to the field.

As the stars outside the Hangar Bay returned to their orb-like state, Kael busied himself with re-attaching his helmet and connecting it to his chest-bound life support module. With the lack of recycled atmosphere and the absence thereof in the depths of space, it would’ve been quite the short and embarrassing trip into the black. He could just imagine the terrible prose that would comprise the entirety of his obituary. However, before the thought could take root and spread throughout his mind like a weed, the Commando finished locking the atmospheric seal into place and took a deep breath of recycled air.

It was then that mobilization order was given, and Omega Squad was given permission to disembark. Without hesitation, Four obsidian and crimson coated TIE Trespassers roused themselves from their wall-mounted berths and were guided out from the belly of the beast to fly freely in the infinite ocean of stars. Once control had been returned to the Pilots, as they passed through the magnetic shielding, Kael thumbed the accelerator and relished the soundless thrum of his fighter’s engines igniting to their maximum potential.

With a salacious grin peeling back the Operative’s lips, the man felt elation beyond his wildest dreams as he directed his Interceptor towards the Pirate’s flotilla. While his primary mission was to forcibly board the hostile Chiss’ command vessel, and extract any of the Order’s assets and personnel from the grisly fate that awaited them - He couldn’t help but stoke the primal urges that beat within his breast. It had been an age since he last flew an active combat mission in a Starfighter, and he wanted to savour the moment. However, with lives other than his own at risk, it wasn’t something he could relish for long.

Thus, Kael cycled up his weapons to their full lethality and led the charge into the enemy’s formation - hoping that he wouldn’t do so unsupported.

| [member="Kilric Dysar "]| [member="Robogeber"] |​

 

[Samka Derith]

Objective One - Bring Hell
Location - Dark One
Allies - [member="Castor Ren"] | First Order

A small outpost of pests hiding in the dark. Almost insignificant in their numbers, many of them already evacuated and they were here on flimsy intelligence. Odd to justify such a response. Someone must be expecting something big from this encounter. Why else would she be here? Why else would that be here?

Samka looked up at the metallic behemoth stood upon this world. Amidst the pitch black, the Sabercat cut a terribly intimidating figure. The First Order's Heavy Walker was illuminated only by the headlights emitting from the Walker's cockpit and the occasional glance from a trooper's helmet light casting over the daunting metal frame. Machines of such power and terror, it was a shame she didn't work with them more often.

The enemy would expect them to attempt a storming of the front entrance, it would be laced with traps and defensible positions. In a situation like this with no civilians or danger from collateral damage, they could make their own entrance.

"You may fire when ready," Samka told the Sabercat over her coms.

There was a moment's delay as the Walker locked on and prepared to fire and then a barrage of heavy turbolaser fire reigned down upon the spire's side, a few floors up, eventually breaking through with a chain reaction of explosives.

mines, Samka noted. "First wave, you're up."

The next step was to exploit their opening. Jump pack troopers propelled off the planet surface up to the fresh hole and opened blind fire with repeater rifles to clear out any survivors from the Walker bombardment.

Then she was up. Her own jump pack built into the space suit lifted the Ren upwards until she too had reached the incursion point. It was difficult to land as gracefully as usual, confined within the suit and on a surface with such feeble gravity yet she did her best, landing lightly upon the dusty floor. Looking around, her light showed a mess of rubble and droid remains. A lamp damaged by the attack flickered on and off, casting long shadows against the spire walls.

"We're clear for now, we'll pursue the rats further in," Samka informed the assault group.

Up and down the Spire, similar breaches were made by shuttles, gunships and slicers and the First Order flooded within, searched desperately for their quarry.

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Post: 1.
Objective 1: Bring Hell.
Enemies: [member="Ember Farseer"]

Honour, duty, sacrifice. These were concepts Ilya was familiar with, but in which she had little interest. Power however, that compelled her, rewards compelled her. The First Order offered her both for her services. A shadowy organisation of Force Users had reached out to her, melding out of the muddled confusion of the First Order rank and file.

They had given her a job, a test they had called it. Promising to reward her with treasure, and training, if she were to prove herself. She accepted of course. It was an irresistible deal.

Now, she stalked the desolate halls of an abandoned spire in a cobwebbed corner forgotten by the Galaxy. She walked alone, having split from the small group of FOSB operatives to which she was assigned some time ago. They were boring little things, focused on thoroughness, conduct, never missing a detail. For that reason they were slow and careful. She quickly grew tired of their antics, and set of to find the troublesome resistance members on her own. They'd cover more ground this way anyway.

Her EVA suit scraped loudly as she made her way up a spiralling stairway of dark metal. What waited ahead, she couldn't be sure.

 

[Progflaw99]

And I looked, and behold a pale horse: ​

and his name that sat on him was Death, ​

and Hell followed with him.​

~ Revelation 6:8​

​

​

Objective 1 | Dark One
Allies: [member="Samka Derith"]

In a gout of white flame and flash of light amidst the darkness, Castor's pack ignited with a flutter and a violent shriek. In an instant he'd soared above the planet's dusty surface, body angling towards the virgin opening which had been torn in the side of the monolithic spire. Debris clattered against his helmet, streaking the blackened surface as another secondary explosion ripped through the bulkhead above. The Knight followed in close order to the Master of Ren who led them into battle. Her youth no longer held against her, Castor had learned quickly that despite her age she was a capable being of dark power and ferocity - the malevolent edge to her aura only reinforcing his belief. His own age had once been a wedge that drove his ambition, but now it was a tool he used to his advantage. Experience outside the Order had taught him truths about life, about humanity, that some within the order would never fully understand - it also had given him a unique advantage. Years of learning the art of the sword had left their mark, a predatory grin gracing his features beneath the opaque faceplate of his helm. These... inconveniences... would suffer greatly before they were purged. He would see to it personally.

:: Five meters. ::​

​

The deep bass of his voice cracked out across the comms channel. With another minor adjustment and a following burst of amber flame, the pack brought Castor to a near halt, hovering just above the broken and shattered floor. Age and experience had granted him a measure of success where the woman ahead had struggled - even so she'd landed well enough. Castor was not far behind, his own booted feet landing heavily upon the dust caked floor, bits of debris grinding beneath his heels. A frown of irritation twitched at the corner of his lips as he reached up and cinched down one of the straps on his pack - he wasn't used to feeling so confined. His own alchemized blade was at his side, a lightsaber hilt nestled against it. Whichever weapon should he require was just a second away from grasp.

:: Eradicate the vermin. ::​

​

Castor's voice cut through the muffled thumping of explosions and distant cacophony of blaster fire from similar openings created in the shell of the spire. Those disciples who'd followed the two Senior Ren would be short behind. Their chains had been removed, their shackles loosened. The hounds of Sieger had been released upon the filth who sought to hide from the Order of Ren.

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Bluespire | Moon of Athelvai // Spires of Hell
Allies: [member="Ezra Klev"] // [member="Racosidae"]
Objective 2: Shed Light // Meet with the Matriarch of the Aaroun
Post: 1


”Your Majesty, the spire is clear for your departure-”

The click and hiss of the envirosuit’s seal disengaging distorted the voice that echoed through the vocalizer, quickly fading into the softer, more natural tones of a human voice as the captain of her personal guard removed his helmet. A sharp nod and easy smile acknowledged the positive news, her eyes moving to the large viewport surrounding the bridge, the outline of multiple First Order corvettes touching down around them.

”Alert the others and prepare for immediate debarkation. We should not keep the Matriarch waiting any longer than necessary. By your leave, Captain?”

A raised eyebrow paired with a lofty expression punctuated the question that was all but formality. They both knew the Arch-Queen would do as she pleased regardless of his opinion in the matter. It was one of the many perks the Master of Ren enjoyed exploiting as necessary. Orders rang out, the clicking beep of comm units activating, environmental report transmitted to all accompanying vessels as preparations kicked into full swing. For her own part, Ara was eternally grateful that whatever artificial atmosphere had been crafted upon the spire ensured she could travel from her ship to the awaiting contingent without the necessity of the cramped and confining envirosuit.

Little time passed before the satisfying sound of her short heels clicking on the metal of the gangway filled her ears, a soft, drastically different sound than the heavy footfalls of armoured boots of both her Queensgaurd and accompanying Stormtroopers alike. Her own appearance offered the same radical juxtaposition to those surrounding, their ivory armour harsh and intimidating, her gown soft, delicate, and feminine.

In difference to the unknowns of the Aaroun society, the dress offered a glimpse of skin through the folds of chiffon falling from her hips to the floor, the slight train dragging behind each step. The intricate beadwork along the bodice and back spoke to the wealth and influence the First Order could offer the feline populace, the gold wreath holding her long curls pinned another statement chosen just for this reason. A small, smug curl of the lips had accompanied the looks she caught flashed her direction after donning the outfit, contrived for maximum impact by herself and [member="Samka Derith"] upon receipt of the young Zambrano’s latest assignment.

This was not a mission for the Master of Ren, but the diplomat and regent the Order was slowly cultivating her to be. At least in public.

 

[Zef Halo]

Upon Ilya's ascent to an upper level of the abandoned spire, she would see a gaping hole appear immediately after an explosion. Through it a semi-man, semi-beast burst through like a torpedo followed by the Jedi Knight with his blue blade clashing against an indestructible sword of a third semi-man, semi-beast. The Jedi's space suit seemed almost torn on places while the monsters that seemed hellbent on devouring him wore spacesuits that could barely classify as such.

Armed to the teeth with primitive weapons they had faced Ember from the beginning of this long and painful story. From an enlightening adventure this was turning into a nightmare for the Jedi who finally was able to untagle himself from the men's chains and swiftly deliver a killing blow to both of them in one stroke to the point of even surprising himself at his own bladework. The lack of resistance due to vacuum led them right into a wall halting their endless momentum.

Ember used the moment to free himself completely from the chain and escaping the dead men's grasp. Panting from exhaustion and pain from wounds he had sustained, the Jedi focused into tapping upon the ethereal for rejuvenation. His brief touch was interrupted at the sight of another vacuum suit on the other end of the...hall. His senses through the Force trickled and startled him as he pointed his blade forward at the direction of the stranger coming from what seemed to be a staircase.

He remained silent, still busy gathering his breath from one of the longest tussles he'd ever had and his first tussle in deep space itself.

Was this another cannibal?

[member="Ilya Cardonne"]

 

[Luther Lewis]

​

Location: Transport departing FIV Imperator - Onboard Drop-pod.
Objective One: Infiltrate Upper Spire
Allies: [member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="Kyli DT-6767"]
Equipment: FO-XD Armour, G-12A Blaster Rifle, Blackwing Electro-Sword.

​

Luther steadied his breathing, focusing on the slow intake of air. It was funny that after what he'd become and all the horrors that he faced, simple things like this still unnerved him. The drop-pod was cramped, and for once he lamented his height. The small viewport showed the steel gray of the launch tube. Dozens of lights blinked softly as the comms crackled to life. "Command to Alpha-One" "Copy, this is Alpha One" Luther replied, his throat dry. "Go ahead". "Your pod is prepped for launch. Stand by for a repeat of the mission parameters”.

“Your pod will launch from the transport and break into the interior of the spire” the voice resumed. “From there you will engage the enemy and press them towards the base of the spire, where the Ren await. Are there any questions?" the Operator finished. 'Yeah' he thought. 'Who came up with this suicidal plan?'. "No questions" he responded. "Acknowledged, prepare for launch".

- - - - -​

​

The steel view from his small window was replaced the expanse of space. Perhaps he might have admired view, back on the ship with a cup of Caf in one hand. As it was, he was watching the navigation panel, and pointedly ignoring the speedometer. Back on the ship he'd been reassured this method would work. Engineers were even brought in to demonstrate the math when he had protested. He tore his away from the panel, forcing himself to stare out the viewport. Everything was going to plan, he was on an automated course. It was out of his hands.

- - - - -​

​

Re-entry was bad enough, until he hit the spire. He'd heard of similar tales of collisions from fellow troopers, who remarked that time seemed to slow down during the impact. Luther had no such experience. One moment he was hurtling through the atmosphere, the next he collided with the massive structure. He howled in pain as he was jostled, the impact sending jarring pain through his body. He bit his tongue and felt the salty taste of blood. A quick inspection proved nothing was broken, but he'd be bruised for a long while after. "Kark their maths" Luther muttered.

A twist of four levers around the door activated a gas-compression system, which blew the door off the craft. There was a loud scraping sound as some rubble was pushed away. Luther raised his rifle, still sitting down, and scanned the area. Satisfied that no one was around, he stumbled out of the pod. His legs felt like jelly, and the low gravity didn't help. With all the grace and poise of a rock rolling down a hill, he moved away from the pod, towards the newly made hole in the wall. He stared out into the darkness, shivering despite the warmth provided by his suit. The flight path had placed him not much higher than the outpost, but he couldn't gauge the distance in such low light.

He activated his comms: "This is Alpha-One, I've entered the Spire".

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Post: 2.
Objective 1: Bring Hell.
Enemies: [member="Ember Farseer"]

Two beasts slain without hesitation. Expertly dispatched with a glowing blade. The slight unfamiliar twinge in the Force seemed to indicate this was one of the Force users about which she had been warned. One of the Jedi.

Evidently, this warrior had some skill. The beasts he'd eviscerated seemed rough and indelicate. That he took care of both of them in a single movement meant that he was trained, well trained. Perhaps that was more than could be said for Ilya herself. Now, he gestured at her, his plasmatic blade shimmering in warning. She would give him a demonstration of her skills. He had no idea what her was dealing with.

Opening herself up to the Force, she felt her consciousness begin to distance itself from her body. This was a necessary step in channeling her abilities. Paying too much attention to your physical self often proved an unwanted distraction when trying to use an emotional or mimetic power.

Without a word a gloved hand reached behind her, producing a simple dark rod of metal, featureless but for a small activation button. She pressed it, relishing in the hum and crackle of the red blade as it engaged.

Raising the saber, she readied herself. She would allow him to make the first move.

 

[Armand Temi]

Objective: 2, Shed Light
Allies: [member="Racosidae"] [member="Ara Zambrano"]
Enemies: TBD

Ezra had been in an Imperial structure for as long as he could remember. Yet, here he was with young upstarts like Racosidae?

Perhaps my curiosity gets in the way of my ambition, he mused. I once thought of myself as yearning for power and accolades. Is Staff Officer of Interrogations just settling for the ordinary?

It was not as though it was a desk job. And Ezra’s thirst for knowledge made it easy for him to withstand long sessions of questioning prisoners, not to mention his fondness for truth serums and unorthodox methods of torture. But no more on this subject, he thought. No need to have an existential crisis out here in space.

The girl was quiet, which was welcome actually and allowed his mind to work better to process the enticing mystery that was the Bluespire. But she answered his inquiry with the typical nonchalance of a younger person. He nodded.

“Yes, the Bureau does tend to move its resources around.” Ezra finished his stim caf and tossed the styrofoam cup into a nearby bin built into the ship. His dark irises were a shade somewhere between brown and hazel with flecks of verdant green. After he visually analyzed her, perhaps a beat too long for anyone to be comfortable, his eyes lifted to view a seemingly high profile Order member, one the agent did not recognize, but based on her entourage - the Queensguard and Stormtroopers alike - one could assume she was leading a delegation to meet directly with the Aaroun natives. An Avalonian diplomat perhaps?

“No evo suit needed apparently. I suppose we tag along until we can meet with their scientists, or just have a wander around by ourselves.”

A thermos seemed to magically appear in his hand. More stimcaf. He rose, sealed the ship and followed the First Order delegation with Racosidae in tow.

 

[Samka Derith]

Objective 1: Bring Hell
Location: Dark One
Allies: [member="Castor Ren"]

----

"This is Alpha-One, I've entered the Spire"

The voice of [member="Luther Ando"] came through the coms.

Samka nodded to herself, not needing to reply back.

"And now the rats are trapped," she murmured just loud enough for Castor to hear her from behind. It was good to fight by his side again. The man had largely kept to his own assignments lately but she'd not forgotten the times they'd fought before. Although he had been one of the many who struggled to accept her position, she was too young they had said. Too inexperienced. The elder generation jealous of her accomplishments, no doubt. While Castor was no longer at the bottom rug of the ladder, the gap between them had only widened further with her ascension to the upper echelons. Time would tell whether any of those feelings still lingered.

A spark, a movement just detectable in the peripheral of a Trooper's beam of light. A lone droid lay cripplingly damaged on the floor. It's head and a single arm spasmed slightly letting out a a tiny shower of sparks with each movement. Samka noted a droid could still be a threat even in this state, it could transmit data wirelessly or perhaps even self destruct.

Without a word, the Ren called on the Force to yank the machine's head from its body, immediately shattering its metal neck from the strain. With the head now resting in her palm, she studied it for a moment. Her eyes meeting where the machine's would be. "Hm," a nondescript grunt which betrayed nothing of her inner thoughts followed by a clunk as the Droid head was lazily tossed to the floor. "The area is clear," she informed the squad. "Let us proceed."

---

The further they got into the Spire, the more eerie Samka noticed it was. It was easy to forget they weren't in a cave until a beam caught a bit of architecture. A support beam, a doorway, even a statue. It wasn't even like they were exploring ruins, the lack of atmosphere and wind made sure everything was almost perfectly preserved. The civilisation which built all this had simply vanished.

There was no warning of what came next. One moment they were walking and the next, an explosion blew the leading Stormtrooper off several feet into the air. A barrage of blaster fire followed from ahead as a glaring spotlight planted on the ceiling turned on, illuminating the Imperials while their enemy remained shrouded in the darkness.

With a growl, Samka extended her palm upwards, calling on the Force to shatter the overhead spotlight. After a moment creaking, it broke with a mighty burst of sparks into dozens of shards of glass suspended by the Force in the air above them. As the blasterbolts from both sides whistled around, narrowly missing the girl by mere inches, she turned the jagged glass in the direction of enemy fire and showered them with it.

A snarl of anger unbefitting a woman of her appearance crackled through the coms of her allies nearby. "Break them."

 

[Dirk Bannahan]

Post 2
Objective 2: Shed Light
Enemies: None detected thus far

Patience seemed to be a virtue of the Staff Officer. While he espied his current partner of improvisation extensively and past the point of politeness, Rae cared not. She, on the other hand, leered at the man. Her lavender eyes languished with occasional, slow blinks as the diminutive Ren peered more and more. In one instance the level of her eyes would rest upon wherever Ezra’s hands were, or they would seemingly blank while examining his boots. Whatever rhyme or reason was in this most passive of efforts was lost to the occasion. Internally, she was just as blank and shadowy as the blanketing folds of her cloak.

Even when the guard and their prized delegate of protection moved past the duo’s purview Rae’s gaze never departed from watching the man for more than a few beats. And always, incessentaly, the continual sniffing of the air punctuated the tyranny of the passing minutes -at times almost dogged in nature, like a hound seeking the source of sweet blood.

The monotony of this moment extended until the comment from the actual FOSB representative regarding a safe atmosphere: Rae hadn’t even bothered to change out of her usual garb, although this foresight was not intentional. One might wonder how she expected to survive if that wasn’t the case. Nevertheless, she followed along and listened to his appraisal, silently agreeing with her typical, nigh derivative laconic wit. This surely would be the most miserable of missions. That was until something in the fates broke. . .

“Uh.”​

“May I try some of that it, please? It smells. . . exquisite.” Racosidae pointed to his thermos. Just for a moment, something glittered in her gaze -but alas- it had fled before it could register.

[member="Ezra Klev"] | [member="Ara Zambrano"]​

 

[Zef Halo]

Ember felt the sudden surge through the Force. A dark presense, a malicious intent. A moment later and a red blade was brandished. Not what the Jedi had expected and what the Jedi had really wanted after fighting off the space cannibals. His blue blade was pulled down from pointing at the apparent dark sider. Ember knew he couldn't really use the suit's mic as they were in vacuum but he opened a short range public channel through his integrated comms

:: Stand down. :: The Jedi Knight was well aware that his words were probably meaningless to the dark sider but the Jedi Code was his guiding principle. Avoid violence until very necessary. :: Stand down and put your weapon away. ::

Ember gathered his breath to subside his exhaustion and ease his panting by calling the harmonical breeze of the Light Side of the Force.


[member="Ilya Cardonne"]

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Post: 3.
Objective 1: Bring Hell.
Enemies: [member="Ember Farseer"]

A soft chuckle left her lips, distorted by the communicator so that it reached the Jedi's ears accompanied by numerous crackles and pops. "You are a fool." Her foot twisted on the rough stone floor, instead of the normal accompanying scrape there was silence. She decided she was starting to hate space.

Almost boredly, she locked eyes with the Jedi, and began closing the distance between them in slow, even steps. A few metres away, she gripped the hilt of the saber with both hands, the blade shimmering in front of her face. The light reflected off the visor of her EVA suit, replacing her sharp features with a flat, flickering expanse of crimson.

The faceless warrior grew closer, tapping into her reservoir of Force energy, preparing it, but not unleashing it. That would come later. It would be unwise to lay all of her cards on the table before the battle had even begun.

Closer still, she slowed her heartbeat and breathing, and suppressed all but her desire to kill, to maim, to destroy.

Finally within striking distance, her arms shot up, and she wrenched the saber downward in a diagonal strike, aiming for where the warrior's hands gripped the hilt of his saber.

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Bluespire | Moon of Athelvai // Spires of Hell
Allies: [member="Ezra Klev"] // [member=Racosidae]
Objective 2: Shed Light // Meet with the Matriarch of the Aaroun
Post: 2

A slight narrowing of the brow was the only outward sign of the Master’s slight distaste for the strange, animalistic appearance of the Aaroun delegates. Feline in structure, their features were coated in a fine layer of fur, ranging in color from the brightest of golds to the palest of greys, a darker hue could be spotted in the distance, the mass of crowds gathered to greet these alien peoples a riot of colors. A polite smile tugged up the corners of her mouth as the Arch-Queen approached the head of the small group gathered just beyond the landing pad, blunt and broad features inspiring Ara to assume it was indeed a male who awaited.

A small bow from the waist was offered, returned by the ambassador, the sounds of music wafting over them, struggling to make its way over the dim of the gathered citizens.

”Her Excellence bids you welcome.”

The harsh sounds of the common tongue sounded foreign from a mouth bristled with sharp teeth, a gravely undertone that reminded her of a large cat purring. Amusement made her smile grow a little widen, a mischievous twinkle in the depths of her eyes. They were a curious folk indeed.

”We are honored, Lord- ?”

”Chancellor Markeeth, at your service, your majesty. If you please?”

A slight wave of his arm indicated to a collection rather primitive speeders, contraptions caked with rust and erosion, a slight wrinkling of the nose in disdain as her eyes cast over them. They hardly seemed fit for travel, but she had no doubt they were the best the Aaroun had to offer. As it was, wide eyes peered upon their own ships, hushed whispers and furious glances cats in the direction of the advanced technology from not just a few of the more scholarly looking welcome party, but from the awed populace.

”Chancellor, my men would be happy to indulge your people should they wish to have a closer inspection of our ships. It is the least we can offer in return for your gracious welcome.”

”Oh my- that would be-“ As the chancellor began purring in pleasure and excitement, Ara barely withheld a laugh, motioning for the Captain and two of his men to escort the interested parties back towards her shuttle. ”Her excellency is most excited to meet you.”

A soft murmur of acknowledgement and agreement escaped her lips as she fell into step beside the feline, both parties boarding the awaiting speeders and heading towards the distant government district.

 

[Robogeber]

Allies: [member="Kael Garick"]
Objective: 3
Post: II


Dozens of fighters launched into the fray behind Kael Garick. The space around the Chiss fleet lit up with glows of green and blue as Battlegroup Imperator now pressed forward. Of course the Chiss did attempt to fight back, did attempt to counter attack, but their vessels were torn asunder. The mighty mega-class turbolasers now began to tear apart the patchwork vessels and cruisers. Debris peeling off, and batteries torn asunder. The Chiss simply had been caught off guard by the attack.

But they would counter, as always. "Admiral," The Sensor Officer barked, "Enemy fighters, and bombers grouping at point, four, six." The officer snapped. Rausgeber's eyes narrowed, and a scowl grew across his lips. This would be yet another issue which needed his attention. He could now see them, grouping at the corner of his eye.

"Divert all fighters to defending us." Rausgeber glowered, "Charge them, and have our corvettes and pickets prepare a fall back position, if our fighters are too damaged to continue." The Grand Admiral commanded, his voice booming. His fists clenched, "We continue on course. Prepare boarders, I want us on that vessel as soon as we disable it."