Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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It's Raining Raiders [TSE Dominion of Irn Hex]

Irn.jpg
"If chaos is the natural state of life, then those who aim to instill order are forced into eternal conflict."
If there wasn't a nation more closely aligned to this concept than the Sith Empire Lord Fa did not know. The struggle to pacify the Tingel Arm and beyond continued on, but for every enemy put down two more popped back up. It was a continued and persistent effort of whack-a-mole on the galactic scale.

The Dabida Yalilyr, Force Hunters in their old tongue, had remained silent for over a year since the initial conflicts against the Sith Ascendancy. Dormant, almost forgotten, especially with strong alliances in their kin. But things had changed in the last couple of months, it started with rumors and it started in the system of Irn. An unremarkable ball of dirt rife with mercenaries and tribal war, the Dabida quietly made a new home for themselves out there.

The asteroids are where they made their home.

Digging into the interior and making fortifications there, using it as a forward base to raid the world of Irn for resources. The Saaraishash caught wind of it all and their eventual motive: strike deep in the heart of the Empire, make Bastion burn and show the Galaxy what happens to the followers of the Force.

The Empire struck before that could occur.

Its diplomats working on Irn itself to establish alliances with some of the tribes, its fleet hunting the Dabida within the asteroid field and trying to put it down and its Legion aiming to establish an outpost on the ancient Imperial station hanging deactivated over the planet itself.

Put down the Mandalorian Force Hunters. Establish a protectorate over Irn. Add to the Empire and safeguard it against these terrorists
_______________
OBJECTIVES

A| Scour the asteroid field for the Dabida Yalilyr base and destroy it as a message. Glassing encouraged. ;)
B| Explore the ancient Imperial station over Irn and claim it for the Empire. Watch out. There might be resistance there.
C| Establish a working relationship with the tribes of Irn, play them against one another, offer assistance. Whatever gets the job done and Irn added to the Empire's reach.
Do your own thing!
 
Hammer of Bastion, Bridge...
​Lord Admiral Thaddeus Krell

"Leaving hyperspace in five...four...three...two...one...now."

​Just as the words were said the Darr Itah-Class Grand Battlecruiser exited hyperspace just near the asteroid belt that was Irn a veritable taskforce of over a dozen imperial ships surrounding the flagship of the Shadow Hand. The bridge was awash with activity as Lord Admiral Thaddeus Krell walked down the command bridge his hands clasped behind his back.

"Status report." ​It was far too quiet in the system. The Dabida Yalilyr were a confirmed presence within the system of Irn, their presence hidden on a base tucked away within the asteroid belt. It didn't surprise him that they avoided the derelict imperial station in the system it was an obvious target for any would be pursuers.

"All ships reporting in, all is quiet Admiral."

"Anything coming up on the scanners?"

"Nothing yet Admiral but now that we've closed in we'll intensify our scans and pinpoint any outliers. They won't be able to hide for long." He wouldn't doubt that they had a presence on the station and a few surprises within the station for the attacking fleet though, he'd need to exercise caution here.

"Scramble our fighter squadrons and send them through the asteroid field. Keep our capital ships on the outskirts and ready the moment they find the mongrel's base of operations. If they can find it we'll hit it hard. Everyone is to operate on full combat readiness until I dictate otherwise." Krell ordered, the entire bridge snapping to it following the tasks laid before them while Krell himself spun around.

"I need to make a call."
​1


 
Objective B- Docking with the old Imperial Station
Allies: [member="Morgan Vance"]

Scans showed that most of the station was either powered down, or without power entirely. There were a few pockets of electronic activity, but nothing showing on the lifeform scans. Which was weird, if they were being honest. With such an old station, it was a surprise that anything was turned on- it indicated someone had been there. But the lack of life signs meant that they had probably left again. Possibly the marauders, possibly salvagers. Either way it meant that the station wasn't 'safe' and they were sending in several teams from different egress points to handle the initial sweep before the Corp of Engineers was allowed on board.

Lt. Sotari and Lt. Vance lead a group of twelve and a pair of Acolytes. Dante wasn't sure how she felt about that, but no one had asked her opinion on the matter.

They stepped down onto deck of the hangar bay- Darli, on sensors, swept the area as they fanned out.

"Atmosphere's thin- the scrubbers must be running on fumes," she said a moment later. "We'll be able to breath without our helmets, but it won't be a picnic, and I wouldn't recommend it for long. Whole station is averaging not much warmer than freezing, "

Dante nodded, jerking her head at the acolytes. "Might want to grab a rebreather and an extra hood, just in case, kids," she said, her voice distorted by the helmet.

Rather than her usual rifle, Dante had a carbine slung over her shoulder. She looked around, catching Morgan out of the corner of her eye- they'd been on enough missions together than even in armor with everyone spread out, she knew which was him.
 
Objective I

From hyperspace came 2 Sith vessels, massive in scale and terrifying in appearance. These massive behemoths were the Sith Armada's very own Leviathan-class Automated Factories. Vice Admiral Zahori Denko saw fit to see these new vessels in action for herself. From the bridge of one of these vessels, she stood watch. Ready to see the Armada's new ships in action.

"Find that base and destroy it. Send out all fighters from one Leviathan. The others will stand ready to support." Zahori ordered. And, in almost an instant, hundreds of TIE/D fighters erupted from the hangars of one of the Leviathans. They formed their squadrons and moved to their objective. Their squadrons split off to search every meter of the asteroid field. "At this rate, these Force Hunters will be gone before dinner." Zahori jested. "I can't quite say I am impressed with these Leviathans just yet. Then again, I've only seen half of their capabilities. The other part has yet to come.."
 
tinker tailor soldier spy
Objective B- Docking with the old Imperial Station
Allies: [member="Dante Sotari"]

One set of boots after another clashed against the worn metal plates that made up the floor of the hangar bay.

Morgan dropped right after Dan, but let her handle the chit-chatting. Instead he let his rifle's light shine on the corners of the bay, illuminating wreckage, salvage, a couple of freighters in different states of decay. But there was more to it- ~Someone's been here alright~ Mor relayed over to Dante as his cybernetics picked up on the faint traces of metallic snuff in the air.

The type you'd see from thrust exhaust, recent too.

His sensor readings were synced up to his armor. Then relayed that over to her suit too. ~Might'a been salvagers~ But Morgan didn't exactly sound convinced of that particular idea.

Of course, Morgan didn't audibly say any of that, left it up to Dante how she wanted to proceed. Yeah, they had the same rank. More often than not Mor still deferred to her, not specifically because she was better than him? Or worse. It was... complicated. Point was that he was quite comfortable letting her call the shots for the most part. It only shifted when it mattered.

"Can we get some lights here, Darli?" "Yessir."

And there was light.
 
A blood-curdling scream echoed throughout the empty halls, the lack of ambient noise carrying the howl throughout the station before it finally dissipated into nothing.

Only to be replaced by a louder, even more agonized wail.

This was the war cry of the Yalilyr, their holiest hymn, their most sacred chant. Not unlike the tyrannical government they despided, the Yalilyr subsided on the tattered screams of their foes in unbearable suffering. Even now in the heart of their asteroid base they tortured and mutilated captured Imperial officers. Several had died, their corpses left to hang in their wall-mounted shackles as blood oozed to form a stagnant pool beneath them.

"Try to imagine a needle, the thickness of a Human hair, slowly thrust between your eyes."

A mechanical apparatus descended from the ceiling, its multi-limbed body turning towards the restrained man with cold precision. One of the arms, outfitted with salvaged parts from an ancient analysis grid, took aim at the man's face. From an electro-spindle emerged a beam of energy, just as thick as the unseen voice described, that pierced right through the prisoner's head. The beam would not kill, it wouldn't even leave a mark where it had entered and exited the man's cranium, but nonetheless the man's eyes rolled back as another ragged scream tore free from his throat to pierce the air.

The aforementioned hidden voice was now given a face, or at least a crude facsimile of one, as a helmeted Mandalorian emerged from the gloom. His head swiveled to face the modified protocol droid operating the torture apparatus' controls, "We're done with him, keep up the pressure until his brain oozes out of his ears." The protocol droid said nothing, it was programmed to comply with any order given by one of the Yalilyr.

As he left the chamber, one of his own marched up towards him. "Station Seven is reporting unusual activity beyond the asteroid field, could be Imperials." A gruff laugh, "Well then, let's see if the Imperials finally checked their backyard. Alert all squadrons to remain on high alert, I want those ships capable of scrambling the moment I give the order."
 
Shadow Hand
Top Poster Of Month
Hammer of Bastion, Command Center...

​Deep within the Hammer of Bastion's command center sat the Shadow Hand himself. in a rather large command throne, while the holographic images of several key figures from Imperial High Command and from the Zambrano Forces sat arranged in a circle. They had been reaching the end of a long, regular meeting when the call from the bridge came in and one of the operators stepped up and whispered the man's voice gruff.

"Your excellency I have Admiral Krell on the line for you. We've arrived in the Irn System."

​The Shadow Hand nodded and dismissed him with one of his hands that were propped on the arm of the throne. The Dabida Yalilyr were a persistent thorn in the Empire's side since the day's of the Ascendancy. They were bloodthirsty and violent even by Mandalorian standards, definitely considered to be radicals. What the warband didn't understand was their war was already over, they just didn't know it yet. They continued to threaten Imperial Space and stand in the way of progress and order. Just one group of the innumerable barbaric hordes that roamed the galaxy, and they would be tamed one way or the other.

"We'll reconvene this meeting at a later date I've arrived in the Irn System." ​He said punching several buttons on the throne causing the holograms to disappear, the image of Admiral Krell appearing on one of the nearby monitors. "Your excellency our fleet is taking up position on the outskirts of the asteroid belt. Were getting mixed signatures inside the belt from our scanners, but we are scrambling fighters to scour the belt for the enemies location." ​Krell said.

Braxus nodded deep thinking for a moment before speaking "Bring the interdictor's online and lock down the system. Once we find them no one escapes. Inform my squadron that I will be joining our pilots in the skies." ​He said standing.

​Once the base was found he would tear his way through its innards end this infestation swiftly and decisively.
1
 
​Hammer of Bastion, Bridge...
Lord Admiral Thaddeus Krell

​Nothing was getting out.

​As soon as the call ended with the Shadow Hand Krell immediately issued orders to have the incapacitor activate its gravity wells and shut down hyperspace travel in the entire system. It was a smart move by his master not that they expected the mandalorians to run just yet, it made sure that when the Dark Lord found their base and fear spread the only place they would have to run is right into the barrels of his ships.

"Status on the fighters?"

​"First wave has launched. His Excellency and Death Squadron has taken point they're moving through the asteroid belt now." One of the crewman replied.

​The Admiral walked back down the officers walkway and looked out the massive viewports on the front of the bridge. "All ships are to be ready to scramble the moment his excellency gives us the signal to begin full scale bombardment of the belt. No Mandalorian is to escape that asteroid belt alive is that understood?" ​The Admiral's words were met with a round of yes sir's as men went to work.

As long as his interdictor was online the only place they could run would be the space station, and the planet below. Irn was a lawless world filled with scum and the dregs of society. If they made it down there they would scatter, it would be like trying to find one rat in a sea of them. Then he would need to put in a call to Leviathan Command and have the heavy fleet composed of Defoliation-Class ships brought to Irn to begin full scale orbital bombardment.

As long as there was no strategic advantage to the world below, it wouldn't be too hard to get clearance for a full planetary bombardment if it meant killing all the rats.

[member="Dabida Yalilyr"]
2

 
C - Establish Dominance.

Joycelyn Zambrano straightened the collar of her dress uniform uncomfortably as she waited for the shuttle bay to open. Diplomacy was not exactly her best- It wasn't one of her skills. She was a fighter, perhaps even a conqueror. One day, she could perhaps need to be a diplomat. So, when the original diplomat to one of the major Irn tribes had to step down due to an unfortunate smelting accident, she reluctantly stepped in.

As Joyce straightened the large, black outer robe, the bay opened with a hiss and a small plume of obtuse gas. She strolled out, the gas making her cloak billow behind her as the massive young woman made long strides down the walkway to meet the representatives of the three great clans of the Blackhold of Irn: Falling Sun, Blacktooth and Steel Sand. With the might of the Empire behind them, they would easily establish dominance over Irn as they tried once upon a time.

"Presenting: Joycelyn Zambrano; daughter to the his Divine Majesty the Sith Emperor, Raider of Tython, and delegate for the Sith Empire."

She put on her strictest face as she threw back the hood of her outer robe with a certain flare and casually exposed the lightsabre on her hip. It was a moment she had practised and just about the only thing she felt sure about in this whole debacle.

"Presenting: Chief Rhall the stone-fist of the Falling Sun clan. Chief Shon Zur of the clan Blacktooth and his son Jarakk the Reckless. Mogroll, High Chieftain of the Steel Sand clan, Master of the Blackhold of Irn. All delegates of the Irnese Black Conglomerate."

Joycelyn did her best not to swallow as four accomplished local warlords stood in front of her. She had heard of Shon Zur and Jarakk the Reckless of the Blacktooth clan. They had been instrumental in the Primeval rebellion for Irn's independence, which had garnered him favour with Mogroll, but he was still not welcome in Irnfall after his failed attempt at a coup. Rhall the Stone Fist of the Falling Sun was the son of Chief Rogg, who held the Blackhold before Mogroll. Rhall and Mogroll had worked together to overthrow Rogg, but Rhall was deemed too inexperienced to hold the fort. Now, Mogroll was a shrewd beast of a man: Short and squat with an enormous tuft of black hair cascading down into a thick beard, and eyebrows that looked like they were about to gore someone. Some said he had the Force.

"It is a pleasure to make your acquaintance, honourable chieftains of the Blackhold." She inclined her head. "The Sith Emperor sends his regards."

Boxes were carried out of the ships and thrown open. Inside there were weapons of Sith Imperial quality. Rhall moved forward but was stopped by Mogroll's meaty hand. Jarakk stared with his mouth wide open.
 
Objective B- Old Imperial Station Hangar
Allies: [member="Morgan Vance"]

"This is why we keep the toaster around," she teased good naturedly, referring to his cybernetics.

The lights came up, faceplates autodimming for a moment to compensate, and then slowly drawing back up to full transparency. The others spread out, making sure the hangar was indeed empty, but with the lights on it was clear that it hadn't been that long ago.

Scuffs in the dust. Cleared space on the floor. Fresh scratches in the durasteel.

"Ran, get us sliced into the base's system if you can. If there are any security feeds active I want them."

As the armored form jogged over to the console by the door, they set up. A trio would stay behind with the ship, not counting the pilot, keep the hangar and the immediate hallway clear in case they needed to make a hasty retreat. Last minute checks of equipment and then-

"Should be, but there ain't, Lt."

"Come again?"

"Power's going to the system in one area? The feed is live but there's..... I dunno I guess it's a sock or somethin' over the camera. Which is silly, cause I can see the fabric weave, it's no different than announcing they're there."

"Just keeps us from seeing how many and with what. That the only anomaly? Right, get us a route to that area. Move out in three people!"
 
The halls of the asteroid fortress were crude, only having been drilled several months ago and yet still without the metallic covering that many would find natural on a station. Urrock Hoc preferred it that way, these days people relied too much on the comfort of artificial aesthetic.

A single gloved hand reached out to gently drag his fingertips across the rough, uneven surface.

This was real, this rock had existed far longer than any Empire his enemies had ever established. It could probably exist long after if the fates were kind, but as more cohesive reports came back from their outlying waystations it didn't seem like a promising destiny. A flotilla of warships beyond the border of the asteroid field, probing it for their presence. It meant that the Empire had found them, jeopardizing their entire purpose for being this close to the enemy's capital.

All thoughts were pushed away from the glory he had envisioned, now all that mattered was survival.

And making the Imperials pay for every scrap of space.

Hoc entered the command center, where several Mandalorian technicians and officers milled about in silent concentration as they continued to monitor the Imperial fleet. They now all looked to him for commands, and he would give them his best. "Inform the Vod to power down the outlying stations, keep their fighters ready to launch. Let these aruetyc calyarnr stumble right into the wolve's den, their corpses can become one with the belt for all eternity."

[member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Panathan Empire"]
 
C - Establish Dominance

Joycelyn Zambrano spread her arms out in a gesture to the crates, a smile spreading over her lips as she saw the desire in the young ones' eyes. These weapons were power. They represented a change in history, and a chance for their families to regain control of Irn as they were destined to.

"Gentlebeings, I see I have your attention."

Now this part she could get used to.

"Then let us talk of diplomacy, and of your submission to the Empire."

She gestured for the castle itself, taking intiative. None of it sat well with Mogroll, but the others cast her glances she knew well from observing her father's diplomatic work. Was this all there was to it? Bribe them with guns? If so, it was terribly easy.

The group were lead into the main hall of the Blackhold, with tall painted windows breaking the monotony of monochromatic monoliths holding the peak-domed gothic roof up high above their heads. Joycelyn tried not to gawk. She had seen palaces before, but this was a new and different style she had never been introduced to before. It had edges, but also curves that topped themselves in intertwining forms and soaring arches.

"Yes, Young Zambrano, our keep is grand. Yet, our crops are poor. All we have is our iron will and the strength of our arms to bring us out of this squalor." "Yet, neither our people, nor the Irnians will kneel easily to an invader. Others have tried! The Dominion crashed against our walls like dust!"

"And like dust, they were trampled by the Sith Empire." "And like we trampled the Dominion will we trample any opposition to our occupation." "However, we are no Yuuzhan Vong. We want to hold Irn, not grind it to meal and scatter it to the winds."

"You need us."

"No, most admirable high chieftain, it is you who need us. Our guns, our ships, our organisation."
 
Objective C - Contact the clans, watch the girl.

[member="Joycelyn Zambrano"]

The talks had already begun when the Lady of Secrets descended from the ship that delivered the first weapons, masked and garbed in an obscuring cloak of black and deep purple zeyd cloth. She wasn't planning on taking a direct hand in the talks themselves, not unless the situation seemed tenuous and needed a guidance. No, she had come to simply observe the work done by the Dark Lord's daughter and to observe these tribesmen. Following silently behind the procession, she took in every word that was spoken... read the body language of the main chieftains.

Well... listening to the girl, and knowing her lineage, she couldn't say she was surprised by the slightly heavy handed approach to begin.

The one known as Mogroll seemed to be the more... tepid about relations with the Sith, and the others seemed more consumed by pride and anger. Yellow eyes glinted from behind her mask, but still she didn't say anything. Not yet.
 
A science officer approached Zahori on the bridge of the Leviathan. "Admiral, allow me to give you a tour of the facilities. I assure you, once you see them for yourself, you will be impressed with the Engineering Corps ingenuity." Zahori gave the officer a look before turning to face him. The officer took this as affirmation and turned to walk off the bridge. "Our facilities are outfitted with state-of-the-art technology made for the exact purpose of the Leviathan-class, Admiral."

A double door hissed open before them.

"These are the molecular furnaces. Their sole purpose is to take material, any material, and turn it into the necessary metals needed for the production of weapons, armor, and vehicles." The immense heat of the molecular furnaces were held back by radiation shielding, thankfully. The cold air of the ship's interior left goosebumps on Zahori's skin.

"Impressive. So these furnaces turn any old material, whether it be stone or durasteel, into the necessary materials needed for production?"

"Exactly, ma'am. If you follow me, I will show you the armament factories."
 
Objective: 1, Sorta
Location: Asteroids


He wasn't sure why he'd come to the Empire, he had no aspirations for power that was so desperately needed in Sith, yet it seemed to be the only place to call home. Was it spite that drove him to serve the darkness? Bitterness that no one in the ever expanding family he was born to had ever given half a damn to look for him? He'd been barely 16 and they seemingly forgot about him in the Outer Rim. Not one Lussk, Verd, Heavanshield or Hearthfire had even bothered. They wrote him off as lost and moved on.

Their brother, in Isley and Kara's case, hadn't even warranted a message.

Surely there was more to it than that, something deeper than the anger of a forgotten child? He had seen Isley, however changed, and the rage he'd felt once came swarming back, though he hadn't the slightest clue how to control it. No one bothered to teach him, the Outer Rim had taught him some, but not enough. Perhaps the reason he now crept through the barren hallways on an equally barren asteroid in service of the darkness that had built his sister and former guardian was because he sought to learn, to become strong.

Or maybe he just wanted to cut lose for once in his life, and tear the world he so dearly hated apart and making something better from the ashes. There was no other option for that, not anymore. So when he sprung from the shadows, burying the tip of his spear deep into the base of a force hunter's neck, he did it in the name of galactic order, for the Empire.

The other two Mandalorian's turned towards him, wicked beskads and slugthrowers in hand, and Xavier let that long suppressed anger flow through him. He let the corpse of the first drop the the floor, the edge dripping with the blood of the hunter, then he went at them.

To new beginnings.
 
C - Establish Dominance

Heavy handed was one way to say it. To any seasoned diplomat, it would be clear that Joycelyn was at best a novice and her strategies were those of a warrior, not a peacekeeper and certainly not a diplomat. Soldiering was her occupation, one could even argue it had been one of the pillars in her still young life. Soldiering, fighting, making war and winning it. It was what had given her this chance.

The group approached the set table and chairs for the discussion and signing of the treaty between the Blackhold and the Sith Empire. Joycelyn claimed her seat, she cast a look back at her companion, suddenly remembering that she never caught the name, Now it was too late to ask. The hierarchy of the local chiefs was evident in the length and ornamentation of their char backs. The Sith delegates got fairly short and un-ornate ones themselves.

"Now," Joycelyn put her hands on the table, fingers intertwining. "Before we can ratify any treaty, the Empire needs to know details. We need plans, assurances that our faith in you is well placed."

Mogroll suddenly interjected sharply from his high chair. "There is no other horse to back, young Zambrano." "The Irnians, once powerful, are now prodigal and decadent. Their citizens are fat and lazy, their army dormant." Nods echoed the sentiment from the side-chairs.

Joycelyn's eyebrow perked at the statement.

"What the High Chieftain means to say, Esteemed Delegates-" the elder Shon Zur, Chief of the Falling Sun, traced a hand through his steel grey beard as he spoke, his eyelids sagging so heavily that it was hard to believe he could see at all. "Is, you are here, at the Blackhold." "If the Irnians were worth the Emperor's support, then surely you would be meeting with the Irnese delegates." He coughed and leaned forward, one elbow on the table and a spindly hand gesturing through the air. "They will not meet you. So you are here, in these most destitute lands, seeking the 'barbarians'."

Mogroll smiled broadly, showing the gap between his front teeth.

Joycelyn bit back a flustered composition of words as her jaw set hard in her face. It was true, Irn was prepared to fight for its freedom, claiming to have support from the Force Hunters in the asteroid field. And The Empire could only delegate so many troops to such a backwater planet. Now weapons, however, they could give out many weapons.

[member="Taeli Raaf"]
 

Lemon

Citrus Dreams
IRN, DABIDA YALILYR STATION - ORBIT, UNDETERMINED TIME | OBJECTIVE: INFILTRATION




By all means it should come to no surprise that the Mandalorians had a sect of radicals who attempt to purge the force. It has never been something that rested well with the people, especially after Mand'alor the Undying's second rule. Even now, as the Hell Wolf reigns supreme, there are those among the Mandalorians who despise the very existence of the force; the Dabida Yalilyr being no exception, of course. Fett on the other hand? Indifference. Typical, truly.

The Mandalorian Bounty Hunter had been contacted several moons ago when plans for such an attack were yet to be set in motion. Asked for a simple, yet daunting, infiltration task. Mandalorians had a certain walk, a certain talk and general disposition. Any agent of the empire would surely be caught out if any on edge Force Hunter went looking with wandering eyes. Surely 'one of them' was to be the right fit, now wouldn't he?

Fett secured his role as a member of the Dabida Yalilyr through some rather morally ambiguous methods. Whether destroying the Yalilyr or aiding the Sith were the 'right' thing to do was an anomaly, though it wasn't as if the Mandalorian would take so much of a single glance to check. Credits were the true motivator in a galaxy such as this. For now, Koda moved about the halls with discretion in armour of his own. His true identity unknown, and appearing as a simple member of this cult.
 
tinker tailor soldier spy
Objective B- Docking with the old Imperial Station
Allies: [member="Dante Sotari"]

Morgan snorted at that nickname of hers.

Let it go though.

"...a sock?" If he hadn't been armored Vance would have facepalmed hard at that. He stretched, letting the others form up, while he wandered over to Dan. "Might be a good idea if I take a couple of 'em, swing around while you take the rest on the direct route?" Just an idea that popped up. They didn't have a good idea on how many they would face, but... neither would whoever was holed up in the station. If they could take them from the side by surprise it could give them a viable advantage.

It could be risky though.

More for his team than Dante's, seeing as they wouldn't have enough people to properly defend themselves if the surprise turned into an ambush on them instead.

She would know that. Just as well as Morgan knew, but he figured it was worth the risk. They were all grunts at the end of the day, if this toaster expired, there would be another body the very next day to fill the hole. It was as simple as that.

Behind them the last pairs formed up.

"Show's on, Rook." Mor murmured jokingly, before leaving her to move back to the group.
 
1 - C

The shuttle that landed was an unexpected one, certainly. Nondescript and white in color, the person that stepped out and walked down the exit ramp was anything but. Dark, auburn, hair was tied into a tight bun, a gaze held by piercing yellow eyes sweeping over the primitive filth that made up the planet of Irn. Sources close to her had informed the Tetan that the Sith Empire was looking to expand into the system, and it just so happened that the deposed royal needed the support of players in the galactic game bigger than she in order to take back control of her home and the core. "A dust ball, great." She muttered, patting at the sleeve of her ruby red blouse with a mild expression of irritation. She absolutely loathed going to such a backwater world to work towards gaining the attention of the Sith, but then she supposed that she had tried to date someone from nearly as grimy of a world nearly half a decade earlier. Seeing the state of the planet and their living conditions, she was beginning to see how such thick-headed ingrates could exist.

"Miss Kuhn, perhaps it would be best that you stay near the shuttle and wait for the Sith to arrive en-mass. It would be safer to open communications when their presence is at its greatest." Came the voice of the shuttle's pilot. Lily, for her part, had no desire to explain the plethora of reasons why it would have been better to have simply flown to Bastion if she just wanted to plead her case. "I'm here to make an impression, Cassia. You can't do that by falling into the background." Lily replied sharply, as though she was implying something on the part of the woman flying the ship. "Arrange for our contact to meet with me at the hostel. I'll discuss the details of her payment and our deal over lunch." She said, glancing back towards the shuttle after she stepped onto the planet's surface. "You can stay in the shuttle, if you want. I think there's still some rations in the back if you get hungry." Lily added, turning her gaze back to the outskirts of the small city with little enthusiasm. "I'll let her know that you'll be arriving shortly and will be expecting her, then." Cassia replied flatly, watching the Tetan walk off from the ship and towards city that loomed a short distance away.

"And maybe you'll get that stick out of your rear when this is all over with." She muttered, turning her attention towards the on-board commlink to contact [member="Aria Black"].
 
Shadow Hand
Top Poster Of Month
Asteroid Belt, Irn...
​In the Wraith

​The Shadow Hand was on full alert.

As the lead vessel the Wraith was an advanced ship at the head of the first wave. Behind him was his personal squadron of Sith pilots Death Squadron ​outfitted in SI-TIE Interceptors. A great swarm of fighters followed behind them as they weaved through the dangers of the asteroid belt. It was quiet so far too quiet for the Dark Lord who led his pack. The Dabida Yalilyr weren't known in the past for their subtle tactics even as a guerilla force of insurrectionists. Their bloodlust often ran deeper then the grudge they held against the Sith Empire. But he didn't put it past them to learn and adapt to the conflict. Mandalorians lived for battle and were experts at waging war. A smart commander would use the field to his advantage when an overwhelming force arrived and trap​ped them in.

They knew there was no way for them to win the battle the Sith were here and only more would come so eventually Irn would belong to them. But what mattered to these terrorists was the mass casualties they would inflict before cowering in the shadows once more. There were many methods this could be done but an ambush? Now that was an ideal method for these rebels. If they were being lured into a trap and in all likelihood that's what this was, perfect. The enemy had no idea just how dangerous of a foe was coming for them. They'll let the Sith get as close as possible and he will use that to destroy them all. This commander would be the architect of his own defeat.

"Stay alert. The enemy is in here waiting for us. Don't be caught out." ​He ordered on the channel linking him to the first wave's squadron commanders. Then he pushed forward letting the force flow through him, he felt out into the vastness letting it be all the advanced warning he would need.

[member="Dabida Yalilyr"]
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