Kolto For Your Cuts

[Progflaw99]

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Location: Vero | Ollix Medlabs​

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​

It was a bold move on behalf of the First Order, but one that should have been seen coming. Though the Order was struggling to maintain its claimed territory under the latest mandate, there were plenty of opportunities outside officially controlled space - Vero being one of them. A bastion of hope for the failing alliance, it now rest in neutral space, or at least what could best be described as such.

The First Order was on a war footing, their fleets and military surging to the forefront of their empire. The manpower required for such a broad maneuver was tremendous, moreso when losses were accrued during their latest offensive. Though bacta and kolto weren't the rarest in the universe it was all the Order could do to keep their stockpiles high as the armed forces required it more and more frequently. It was time to look beyond their borders. Isolationism had served them well up until now but with the increase in Coalition defiance and the vast expanses of space claimed under the mandate - the Order needed more.

Had one talked to the Moff Council they'd likely affirm that the claimed space had always belonged to the First Order, that it was their right to take it, their right to govern. It would have been nice if it were that simple, in fact Rolf almost wished it were. Instead he found himself aboard the FIV Malignant, a Marauder-class Cruiser. Part of a larger flotilla of vessels, they had been sent to apply pressure - making a deal at the end of a blaster - so that the First Order might see their medical capacity increased. The Colonel hadn't been sent to ask, he'd been sent to tell.

Adjusting the high collar of his uniform and resting his hand on gloss black holster at his thigh, Rolf Amsel activated the comm link they'd established with the Ollix Medlabs facility on the surface. The First Order rarely showed itself without some kind of force - the flotilla a prime example. Their intent was clear. Ollix would see them.

:: Greetings Ollix Medlabs, this is High Colonel Amsel of the First Order. I trust we've not come at a bad time? On behalf of the Supreme Leader we seek an audience in regards to your company's invested production of Bacta and Kolto. ::​

​

The standing orders were to play it by ear, see if an agreement could be made. If not, they had been authorized to begin efforts of acquiring the Kolto and Bacta by alternative means. The First Order had deep pockets however, and Rolf imagined there would be little reason the Ollix Medlabs officials would outright deny them. The High Colonel wasn't naive enough to believe the Supreme Leader hadn't had alternate plans should this fail either - it was likely why a number of Ren had been sent along. They made him uncomfortable, always watching, judging, but who was he to deny a mandate from the Supreme Leader?

As he waited for a response from the ground, he turned to the officers beside him, a part of the proposed entourage.

"Prepare the shuttles for launch, I want two escort fighters assigned to each. Simple TIE's will do."​

​

A curt nod preceded a quiet shuffle as the Officers went to work organizing the landing party. Soon enough they'd have an answer and then they'd be on their way - in one method or another.



OOC:

The concept for the thread is to secure a one time sale of a large quantity of Kolto/Bacta for the First Order. While this is not meant to be a combat thread, it's certainly open to becoming one. Please treat all writers who join the thread with respect and if you have questions or concerns feel free to PM the writers or myself.

First Order Note: This thread is open to all, if you have any ideas or aren't sure where to fit in, feel free to PM me and I can elaborate! Otherwise, the goal is to just have fun and write some interesting story!

 

[Kier Grey]

Kyli DT-6767
FIV Malignant, Hanger

Spoiler: Equipment

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

Nearby: [member="Rolf Amsel"]

Silently the Quadanium steel statue that is Kyli DT-6767 stands in the hanger holding G-12A Blaster Rifle across breastplaste contemplating the First Order's recent rout at Skor, it is a shameful display she thought although practicable somewhat shocked to hear that Sieger Ren himself had compelled them to flee. Towering proudly over the Knights of Ren and other personnel assembled within the Malignant's belly with several shuttles and dropships hissing or whirring behind them appropriately as the pilots prepared for takeoff. Studying the variety of Ren assembled within the Hanger she cannot help but feel a small disdain for their kind, they weren't soldiers, undisciplined zealots and if what Kyli had heard was true nearly seen to the end of the First Imperial Realm itself.

It seemed to the Death Trooper that there were those amongst the Kknights of Ren who were selfish and ambitious in equal measure, thinking not to the continued existence and stability of the First Imperial Realm and her Colonies but to self enrichment and aggrandizement. Stormtroopers were superior enforcers in this regard as Kyli so vainly thought, believing firmly that the ideal Stormtrooper was one who had not known life beyond service seeking neither honour nor glory only duty and service. More than one medal had to be forced upon Kyli on threat of sedition charges as she believes that no soldier no matter how high or low should be honoured for doing what is expected of them no matter how impressive or grand the feats they achieve in their duty's execution.

Kyli slides blaster rifle over shoulder lazily and it clamps firmly against the convenient magnetic seal with a metallic 'thunk' One of the many DARKSABER armour's perks was that its' Superhuman wearers didn't need to lug around holsters which would only fit a specific weapon. First Imperial Death Troopers were to be masters of all weapons on the battlefield. Sighing with a bored heave in and then lazily out. 'Kill them all Kyli, they're useless evil scum! Kill them! kill them! KILL THEM!' That masculine voice booms through Kyli's helmet coaxing the idle Death Trooper into psychotic homicide while her hazel spheres sweep over the Knights of Ren once again, Kyli rolls her shoulders steadily and tilts neck side-to-side with the muscles through her deltoids popping loudly.

 

[Erick Von Strauss]

Location: FIV Der Flugel
Objective Monitor space activity while remaining within the man flotilla of ships.
Gear: SSK-7 Heavy Blaster Pistol, Officers' Uniform, Wrist-mounted holopad.
Near: [member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Kyli DT-6767"]

​

Erika's ship had been chosen on this relatively relaxed mission. Star destroyers brought fear with them, her heavy star destroyer brought even more, which is just what the high command wanted. "A deal at the end of a gun" scenario, it would probably work, unless the ever so spiteful enemies of the First Order, had another idea. But, so far there seemed to be no resistance thus far. "Lieutenant, make sure our radar officers keep a keen eye out for any type of disturbances. If there is anything I want to know about it." The lieutenant commander nodded and walked up the path bisecting the two lowered pits in the floor of the bridge. Erika sat in her command chair, head supported by her hand, she was thinking, while the possibility of enemy contact is almost naught, it's the 'almost' that will get an unskilled commander every time. I should make sure that my own taskforce is ready for anything that is possible. Even purrgils...

Spoiler

Taskforce Von Strauss
Allegiance IV-Class Heavy Star Destroyer
FIV Der Flugel

2x Marauder-Class Medium Cruiser
FIV Fallout
FIV Brother

Taskmaster-Class Escort Carrier
FIV Horn

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Praetorian Initiate
Equipment | Mk. I RAKGHOUL Semi-Powered Battle Armour with Repulsorlift Technology, Vibrodaggers, Lightsaber (blue) & Training Lightsaber (red; synthcrystal), DE-39 Maser Rifle, Throwing Knives, C-25 Fragmentation Grenades
Location | Hangar of FIV Malignant, Vero space
Allies | First Order, [member="Rolf Amsel"], [member="Kyli DT-6767"] (near); [member="Erika Von Strauss"]

[SIZE=11pt]Another day, another planet.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Their offensive may have shattered against the resistance the Coalition has put up. [/SIZE]But as it always has and it always will, the cogs of the First Order war machine continued its advance.

[SIZE=11pt]Once again encased in an armour of black and red, the blonde was perched on top of a steel container as she waited for further orders. Every few seconds, one of her legs kicked out in an idle manner, making a hollow metallic thud as it fell back against the box she had claimed as her seat. Other than a flicker of vaguely familiar aura that she could discern every now and then, Marriskcal was adrift in a sea of strangers. Without anyone she could bother or haunt, the usually vibrant initiate remained subdued, her mind a distance away.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Her appearance on this particular assignment was mostly out of her own selfish desire, her curiousity at seeing how Kolto and Bacta came to be for herself, hoping that the understanding would help her refine her own skills at healing. While she knew there was a high chance she would not even set foot in the interior of the office, let alone the laboratories, she still held a bit of hope. It was why she was here not as one of the Supreme Leader’s most loyal, but as a member of the Order of Ren – faceless and nameless.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The quicksilver burst of intense bloodlust broke her out of her reverie, her gaze moving with unerring accuracy to land on ALPHA 2’s form. Despite Marriskcal’s concerns about her once unit leader’s wellbeing, having worked with the Death Trooper personally before, the blonde knew the other could be trusted. And that was something infinitely precious when it came to the chaos of a battlefield. In fact, the thought of having ALPHA 2 around soothed her slight anxiety.[/SIZE]

 

[Luther Lewis]

Location: Krth City.
Objective: Investigate the Selkath.
Gear: Knuckle Plate Vibroblade, Wrist DataPad.

​

His new glasses hurt his eyes, they were a stronger pair then the last and it gave him a near perpetual squint. Combined with a rumpled uniform and a look of disdain, he was the perfect example minor officer forced into negotiations. Which was exactly the impression he wanted to make.

Getting through customs was slow. The security detected the remaining metal in his limbs from old augments, but fortunately didn’t detect the blade concealed in his left glove. His guide, Khasa, was waiting for him outside the exit gates.

The Selkath was unlike most of his species, perhaps because he was born in First Order space. The alien wasn’t exactly a perfect undercover agent, but he was loyal. “Are you Lieutenant Oswald?” His accent made that kind of ‘shsh-ing’ sound common to Selkath. Luther gave a look of annoyance; half-feigned, half-real. “Of course” Luther said. “Are you expecting any other First Order visitors?”

Khasa gurgled a laugh nervously. He led Luther away from the gates, towards one of the public areas. A great vista greeted them, a churning mass of water that stretched to the horizon. The Selkath wringed his hands as he waited for Luther to speak.

“I know you’ve been briefed Khasa” Luther said. “But I want to make things exceptionally clear”. Luther towered over the smaller Selkath. “You belong to me. No matter what occurs inside the labs, diplomatic or otherwise, I want you by my side. Is that clear?” Khasa hesitated before nodding.

Luther turned away and breathed a small sigh of relief. He rested his hands on the barrier edge as he thought. It was good to have support of a local, the plan was complicated enough without more problems.

While [member="Rolf Amsel"] negotiated with Ollix, someone had to keep an eye on the Selkath. The Bureau had plans. If negotiations fell through, then an agent would be needed at Krth Labs either to put pressure on Ollix or to secure the lab for themselves.

Luther watched the ocean until he felt sick. “Let’s get started” he said, turning away. “There is a lot to do”.

| [member="Kyli DT-6767"] | [member="Erika Von Strauss"] | [member="Marriskcal Lati"] |
​

 

[Tatya Zane]

If there was one thing a professional shockboxer always needed, it was kolto. Bacta also worked. And copious amounts of bandages. Of course, it wasn’t cheap by any means, so he had gotten a small time job helping protect a few shipments that were being hastily transferred. The shoulders and atmosphere were tense and it took Jarik a while to figure out why.

The First Order had come for the kolto. He kept a smirk off his face as he considered it. They’d need more than kolto to cure everything that happened to them on Skor. Pride and confidence required more. But he considered, if they bought the kolto, there’d be an influx of credits, and a rise in the value of kolto until production could stockpile more of it again.

“Back to work, Creel,” the supervisor growled and Jarik nodded. With a grunt, he heaved another crate of kolto onto the cart and went back for another one. He wasn’t sure which carts he was working for, there was a vast web of intermediary companies between him here and whoever had arranged this little side-gig.

They were deep in the bowels of the city and strange sounds echoed from the outer hull as the waves and currents shifted against the hull of the city. Jarik paused and flexed his hands before tightening the wraps around them. There were weights inside the wrapping and a jury-rigged shockmitt. He was muscle for this after all, both menial labor and security guard.

Not that his fighting could stop a battalion of stormtroopers, but that wasn’t his job. Unless they interferes with these shipments. Then he’d have to figure something out. If things went terribly, he had a disc blade tucked into his jacket. He’d never tried it against stormtrooper armor, but he didn’t really want to for that matter.

[member="Luther Ando"]

 

[Mellifluous Magenta]

Flight Officer Rowena Ewesa, Pixie Seven
Post 1
Location: Orbit of Vero to Ollix MedLabs Air Space
Equipment/Ship: Comet OSM-10, Flight Suit, TIE/SF - Conqueror
Allies: The First Order, [member="Rolf Amsel"], [member="Kyli DT-6767"], [member="Erika Von Strauss"], and [member="Marriskcal Lati"]

With a fresh injection of glitterstim coursing throughout her system, Rowena Ewesa lowered herself into the seat of her fighter, a freshly-armed TIE Conqueror variant. Light fingers tapped gracefully at the controls as she initiated the final stages of the extensive pre-flight checklist. Even though this was only an escort operation, it was necessary to ensure full combat readiness in the event that the Kolto deal fell through, in one way or another. In the event that the deal went sour and lethal force became necessary, she had been advised to check her fire, so as to prevent damage to the supply of Kolto, which was so desperately needed in the front lines of the Imperial war machine.

When the final items of the checklist were complete, Rowena's powered on her craft and the engine hummed to life. Outside of her craft, the boarding ladder was retracted and the hangar crews swiftly moved out of the launch area. Upon receiving an all-clear signal from the lead technician, Rowena gently guided her TIE down the launch path before the assisted gravity launcher abruptly accelerated the fighter into the cold vacuum of space.

Seeing that the landing shuttles had not yet launched, Rowena decelerated her fighter until she was at a virtual standstill. Her wing mate was nearby, and seemed to follow the same course of action.

"Pixie Seven escort is ready and waiting."

 

[Dirk Bannahan]

Location: Near the Ollix Medlabs
Allies: [member="Marriskcal Lati"] | [member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Luther Ando"] and the First Order
Enemies: None yet

Equipment: Violet Lightsaber, Hold-out Blaster, and Blue Armorweave Cape
Morale: Neutral

Go here. Go there. Secure this. Kill that. Eat here. Fight there.

Orders were the most common and defining trait of the Racosidae’s experience under the red banner of the empire straight out of Dosuun. Maybe that’s why it was in the name of the group: First Order. They were obsessed with it, and it occurred to Rae that the average civilian in friendlier sectors would never grasp how much strife the military branches contended with month after month.

For instance, after the sudden withdrawal on Skor the orders came to move directly from there to Eraidu, where yet more fights were to be had with what were labelled as rebels. And yet a lot of them looked like cops or planetary defense guard. Didn’t matter in the end tho. The Ren killed them all the same.

Now the orders were to come to this land ahead of a taskforce and wait within the city. The trip had been mostly uneventful, boring, and lazy -just the way the Ren Disciple liked things. A scent in the air suddenly clung to her senses, and something told the Force Vampire that things were going change.

With little to no gusto, the young woman exited her hotel room and proceeded down the stairs with a yawn.

 

[Nagisa Yamamoto]

Allies: First Order.
Near: [member="Rolf Amsel"], [member="Erika Von Strauss"]
Equipment: P-23 Blaster Pistol, First Order Officer Uniform, Vibrorapier

Being re-vetted in a successor state of the Empire, was indeed a proof of loyalty that she had to show towards the members of the First Order. Nagisa Yamamoto was a veteran of the First Empire’s Imperial Navy, but here? She was nothing more than a time traveller that had to prove herself to the others that she indeed, was from said time, and that she does live up to her reputation. Perhaps a start would be assisting her fellow members of the First Order in this mission. Nagisa was on her chair, glancing out at the space, donned in her new Captain Uniform. Sure, she was a few ranks below of what she was before, but at least she got to command a small fleet as a captain.

“Commander Gaius,” she spoke to her former Vice Admiral on the intercom. “this mission is important for the sakes of the First Order. Whatever interests we may have here, might be just as well. I want you to follow all orders of your superior, and I expect that you make sure the rest of our original troops that are still aboard this ship, obeys this command. I will not accept any defiance nor talks of treason. Anyone who does so, will have to answer to me, and I will punish them.”

Gaius gave a soft chuckle and smiled.

“I’m serious, Commander.” Nagisa said more sternly to him, noting that she was not playing around. Gaius changed his attitude and saluted.

“Yes, sir.”

“Nagisa out.” Nagisa turned off her com and glanced forth, leaning back on her chair, and folded her fingers, thinking deeply about this. Much has changed… and this mission will prove the change to be real. But soon, the Emperor’s legacy shall be seen be made a reality. She is sure of it. The First Order will do what Emperor Palpatine failed to do: Bring peace, justice and security.

Even with this mission being a supposedly peaceful one, Nagisa can never go prepared, and sent at least one extra cruiser just in case if things go wrong... She remembered Grand Admiral Mittth’raw’nuruodo’s words of knowing your enemy… heh… what a clever alien he was.

---

Fleet Composition:

Spoiler

1x Imperial-X-II class Star Destroyer, “FIV-Akago”
2x Marauder-class Medium Cruiser, “FIV-Tachibana”, “FIV-Shizuma”
1x Predator-class Assault Cruiser “FIV-Masamune”
1x Taskmaster-class Escort Carrier “FIV-Importance”

 

[Cim Salro]

Location: Twenty minutes from Vero's Atmosphere
Ship: The Aschansa
Objective: Piracy
Allies or Enemies: TBD

Cim surveyed the vast expanse of space before her, until her eyes became unfocused and she was lost in thought again, ruminating on Nydo.

“Feth,” she growled, a fist pounding the console with lackluster anger. Grief made everything feel like it was moving in slow motion, and the only time the Anzati felt energized was around prey. But with no crew and no one to suddenly waltz onto her empty ship, she would have to improvise.

You could stand to use a partner again. Kingsley her last remaining friend from the Black Bha’lir had disappeared one day - flown the coop so to speak as only an alcoholic Hittian could. “Can’t blame him,” she mumbled to herself. Cim wasn’t the greatest company lately barely able to stand her own presence.

Which is exactly why she unbuckled her belt in the pilot’s seat, and walked to the small kitchen in the galley of The Aschansa and opened the fridge, pulling out a large, clear bottle covered in frost. It was not whiskey or wine. The bottle contained a batch of brain soup from an array of various victims. Cim ran the bottle under warm water until the contents began to unfreeze. She then sunk down into a chair, lit a cigarra and sipped at the intoxicating brew until her thoughts became a jumble again, emotional pain sufficiently numbed, and once she was good and karked up, she would be able to focus on the upcoming task.

And karked she was. Sitting back in the pilot’s chair, running a pale, cold hand through her tangled red hair, she noted that The Aschansa would break through the atmosphere in about twenty minutes. Her target? A shipment of bacta or kolta.

It wasn’t as lucrative as something like Quadrillium, but all the more reason Cim thought she may be able to skim a little off the top of the First Order’s manifest. No one would suspect a depressed, unruly and homicidal Anzati to be lurking around Ollix Medlabs attempting to nab a few dozen containers of medicine.

 

[Placeholder 010]

Words passed down the grapevine were often left to the masses once they trickled to the bottom. It made information leaks both a boon and a curse; a new opportunity presented itself to you, but everyone else knew about it to.

That was the real problem with getting jobs off the darker regions of the holonet. Sometimes you weren't the only predator on the prowl.

Psychonaut was keenly aware of this looming threat as he stalked the steel wrapped streets of the inner city. Getting onto the planet and retaining his kit had been difficult, but a few well-maintained connections and a rather hefty bribe had seen him forward. He justified the expense by the fact that he'd come alone for the job - his client had been rather clear that the matter remain entirely confidential between the two of them.

The First Order had come to claim this world's kolto. Psychonaut did not care for politics, but he understood the fluctuation of pricing. Moreover he understood that stealing away with some of that kolto could net his employer a small fortune.

Psychonaut fell to a knee behind a rusted trash can as he came upon what seemed to be a transport being loaded with crates. The personal stealth generator he'd activated whilst traversing the city hid him well from the naked eye, so long as he remained motionless. In silence, the operative observed the men moving what he could only assume to be crates of kolto. This was what he'd been sent for - his employer intended to retrieve the crates once they'd been loaded for his own gain. How the man had come to such knowledge, or why he had chosen to send a lone operative rather than simply stealing his own was beyond the mercenary. It hadn't been a concern one way or the other - just the credits.

He contented himself to simply observing a few dozen meters away. The time to make a move would come, but he was in no rush to chance death.

[member="Luther Ando"], [member="Jarik Creel"]

 

[Luther Lewis]

Location: Krth City.
Objective: Investigate the Selkath.
Gear: Knuckle Plate Vibroblade, Wrist DataPad, 2 x Homing Beacons.

​

Luther and Khasa paced along shiny burnished metal as they made their way to Krth Labs. To their left and right, past the fences, the walkway fell away steeply revealing the churning water below.

“Give me the update on the lab” Luther said. “Are they expecting me?” Khasa remained silent, which was a bad sign. Hesitantly, the Selkath opened his mouth. “Krth Labs are not interested in dealing with the First Order”. “What!” Luther said sharply, prompting Khasa to wince. “They said they are honouring the time old Selkath tradition of neutrality”. Khasa pondered for a moment before adding. “Truth is however, they are worried about Ollix. If the First Order precures the majority of their supplies, then Ollix will swoop in to take other, more lucrative spots on the market”.

Luther ground his teeth. The plan was already going downhill and he hadn’t even reached the lab yet. “We’re going anyway” Luther decided. Hopefully just his presence at the lab would provide opportunities. “I know you have a contact in Ollix” Luther said. “Ensure Ollix Labs knows the First Order is meeting the Selkath”. Khasa nodded and went to make the call. If Ollix thought The Order was dealing with the Krth Labs, it might put extra pressure on them for [member="Rolf Amsel"]‘s negotiation.

Khasa returned, nodding to affirm he’d made the call. “At least tell me the second part of your mission was a success” Luther said. Khasa gave a rare smile, and pulled a small package from a pocket. Inside the wrapping were two disc-shaped objects that Luther recognised as a pair of small homing beacons. Luther quickly placed each tracker under each glove. “Let’s go”.

- - - - -​

​

Krth Labs reception was crowded, as many had a vested interest in kolto production. Luther pushed his way to the front, holding his head high, trying to imitate an insufferable CO he once served under. He approached a small Selkath behind a massive desk. “I need to meet The Board or a relevant Board member, immediately” Luther demanded. The receptionist gave a wary smile. Her eyes glanced over his uniform, took in his hostile glare and his dignified posture. “Of course” she said in perfect basic, with no hint of an accent. “They are currently in a meeting, however I can direct them to you once they are done”.

Luther paused, before nodding. “That is acceptable” he said. “But I won’t wait here with the common folk. Take me to the shipping area, I’d like to inspect the operation for myself”. The receptionist nodded, a faux smile across her face. “Of course, Sir. Right this way”.

| [member="Jarik Creel"] | [member="Psychonaut] |​

 

[Jihun Kim]

​

Location: Container 2B aboard the Sinanju (BFF-1 Bulk Freighter) in transit to Vero.
Objective: Extraction
Allies: Dun Scaith, Rebel Team "Mephisten Red" ([member="Adele Crawford"] [member="Jeb Belanger"] [member="Drystan Marakos"])
Opposition: TBD

Only a half hour into being stuck inside the cargo bay of a chartered freighter, Cardinam was already feeling a hankering for a smoke. He had been just about to enjoy one of those sweet cancer sticks when he had been whisked for a new assignment on extremely short notice.

However, it probably wasn't the best of ideas to light up in the middle of a semi-closed shipping container. So the mercenary content himself with a nice wad of nicotine gum as consolation. It sated the chemical cravings somewhat, but it was still a poor replacement for a proper smoke.

Nothing could beat the burn.

He paced around a few times around the fancy stealth transports in the middle of the container, then leaned against the fuselage of the lead vehicle as he finally settled down to review the mission specs once more. There was no need for the cyborg to pull out a datapad or a wrist computer, the data played back right over his ocular implants, displayed as crimson vector overlay in his vision.

Reformer sympathizers on Vero (once a GA world) had gone into a panic over the arrival of the First Order and now needed out ASAP. Easier said than done, as the shielded colonies on the surface were quite restrictive on outside travel, especially with a squadron of FO warships reported to be in orbit.

It was was a tricky job, trying to move under the radar First Order and the draconian Veronian administrators themselves. He trusted his guys, but he wasn't so sure about the Rebels in the tagging along. He usually found them to be too rowdy for his tastes. However, his Jedi employers had made every assurance that the operatives they had attached to his unit were all top notch, there to make his job easier.

He would see.

((Howdy. I found the premise of this thread a good backdrop to run a resistance themed story, using the Jedi Reformation with permission from [member="Samka Derith"]. While we're not moving directly against the First Order here, aiming for more intrigue, we're certainly open to interactions from all sides once we're on scene to spice up the story. Cheers.))

 

[Adele Crawford]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Location: [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Container 2B Aboard the Sinanju (BFF-1 Bulk Freighter) in Transit to Vero[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]Objective:[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt] Extraction[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]Allies:[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt] Dun Scaith, Rebel Team “Mephisten Red” ([member="Cardinam"] [member="Jeb Belanger"] [member="Drystan Marakos"])[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]Opposition:[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt] TBD[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Being stuck in a cargo container wasn’t the worst place she had ever traveled in. She distinctly remembered sneaking aboard Ember Rekali’s ship when she was younger. A small smile crossed her face as she remembered the odd odor of what he was transporting as her smaller and lankier self, wiggled into the small metal cargo compartment. That was probably the worst especially after she found out what he had back there.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]The cargo container had some space, but she kept herself busy with the toy she had brought along. A small clay like object that was filled with magnets; enough to create a small electromagnetic field when the Force was applied. The only difference here, the Force needed to be manipulated with the skill Mechu Deru for the toy to activate. A small token she had received to practice with, Adele used it in place of what others would use a stress ball for. The small toy took several shapes, squares, spheres, other objects as she wiggled her finger over it like a puppet master.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Two people here she didn’t know outside of what was given to her in her briefing, the third was someone she had met. She continued to play with the toy as she started to make more complex shapes like speeders and x-wings. Looking up she watched one of the two she didn’t know begin to look at the ship, she was interested as well, but now wasn’t the time to attempt to tinker. She’d play with it soon enough.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]“Pretty isn’t she?” Adele spoke quietly to the man who was admiring the ships.[/SIZE]

 

[Drystan Marakos]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Location: [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]Container 2B Aboard the Sinanju (BFF-1 Bulk Freighter) in Transit to Vero[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]Objective:[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt] Extraction[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]Allies:[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt] Dun Scaith, Rebel Team “Mephisten Red” (Cardinamhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/19515-cardinam/ Jeb Belanger[/SIZE] [member="Adele Crawford"])
[SIZE=10.5pt]Opposition:[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt] TBD[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~ ~[/SIZE]

Nearby to the brunette woman and the mechanized Warrior sat a lone figure in a corner of the shipping container. The cargo bay of this particular freighter had been in a considerably poorer state of disrepair than Drystan had seen before; not that it bothered her. She had simply given a wry smile as she settled in to await the journey, settling into the shipping container and awaiting their green light. She hadn't moved much for the past two hours...

The blonde-haired, hazel-eyed bombshell rested peacefully - her legs tucked beneath her in a classic meditative pose, her palms resting (face-up) on her knees, and her eyes closed. She was in a state of meditation, a profound & altogether consuming altered state of conciousness where her surroundings had faded into the background... For over an hour, now, she had not shifted a single muscle. She appeared remarkably serene, but upon closer inspection, anyone might find her supremely aware.

She had become lost in the freighter; it's powerful walls, metal bulkheads, labyrinths of connecting corridors, infinite lengths of wire & cord, moving figures deep within the bowels of the ship itself (all of them completely unaware of the team's presence), and every patch of cold darkness within a hundred meters. That included the depths of space and its' cold vacuum - she had drown in it long ago, immersing herself deeply within The Force as they hurtled their way toward a foreign destination.

A world Drystan had never visited before, in all her years as a Shadow.

The blonde Jedi Sentinel was, first & foremost, concerned with the lives of her team-mates; especially Adele, a recent acquaintance and fellow Agent. If push came to shove, Drystan would assure their survival and the survival of the Jedi Reformation first... The Grand Master had not requested it, but Drystan had accepted the responsibility nonetheless.

She did not suspect her friends... but she did not entirely trust them, either.

As the Galaxy flew by beyond only a few centimeters of durasteel & plating, Drystan was at one with the Galaxy, and entirely at peace.

"Stretch out... And feel."

Drystan caressed Adele's mind, not intruding, but providing a subtle reminder that the two of them were connected - deep in trance, Drystan formed thoughts which seemed to take aeons to form... channeling them by lazily guiding her will toward an unknown destination (while knowing the destination, all the while). In the back of Adele's mind, she would feel a tiny whisper of a thought:

"In all the Galaxy, there's nothing like it."

And still, Drystan reminded quietly seated, barely discernible in the dim & quiet confines of her own patch of real-estate.

The Cyborg Warrior was a special breed - highly advanced, by the look of him, and likely highly capable... A walking weapon, perhaps. Her curiousity had been piqued immediately and she'd gently touched his spirit through The Force - she found him to possess an energetic signature the likes of which she'd never seen. As if some outside force had... changed him... turning him into a living conduit of the Force intertwined with metal. She sensed he was capable of much more than met the eye...

Much like herself.

Much like Adele.

And much like, it certainly seemed, their fourth companion...

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

TIE/IN INTERCEPTOR TK-74205
Location: First Order Fleet
Objective: Learn to fly
Nearby: [member="Nagisa Yamamoto"] | [member="Rowena Ewesa"] | [member="Erika Von Strauss"] | [member="Rolf Amsel"]
[Armour of Ren] [Flight Harness] [Lightsaber] [HoloBoy Advanced]

They'd tried to get him inside a TIE/FO stock fighter.

Feth that. Simulators were chit, sure, but if he was going to do the damn thing then he was going to do it with style. Or just stupid, insane speed. In fact, let's just go with that. Stupid, insane, nonsensical speed.

Of course the pilot was a youngling, so the jump to ludicrous speed had occurred even before he'd gotten permission to roll out of the hangar.

The TIE Interceptor was flying in a bit of an erratic path, it's altitude and orientation changing as the boy played with the controls and tried to get acclimated to the experience. The sensation.

The simulators tried to mimic the feel of the centrifugal forces acting on the pilot, but nothing that Tao had done in training had prepared him for the visual stimuli of the starfield bouncing around outside of the canopy, nor the tactile sensation of his body alternating between weightlessness and gravity as the interceptor responded to the slightest change in his hand with surprising timing. The simulators had seemed responsive, but in retrospect had been sluggish by comparison.

Wiggling slightly, the boy tried to shift his weight and get comfortable in the pilot seat that was designed for a larger humanoid. Rotating the lateral controls, the youngling flipped the TIE interceptor over to the port side in a single rotation. Then, spun back starboard twice.

The dizzying swirl of stars behind the artificial horizon created by the cockpit caused the boy's stomach to spin as well. A wave of nausea washed over him as he steadied the TIE interceptor so that its flight path was level again.

Spinning... was not a good trick after all.

Swallowing against the bile rising at the back of his throat, the youngling dropped the throttle back and felt his body pressed into the firm cushion of the seat underneath him. Cutting power to the engines, he allowed inertia to catapult him forward as he engaged the maneuvering thrusters.

Swooping upward, the TIE interceptor soared out from underneath the shadow of the FIV Malignant, skimming along the hull of the patrol cruiser, before plunging back down over it's far edge and descending toward the planet below.

That was when he kicked the twin ion engines back online.

Straining against the restraints, the boy struggled to reach the overhead controls and then pulled to the side to activate one of the pilot assist functions. On the canopy, a trajectory overlay was calculating and displaying the computer-generated flightpath for atmospheric entry.

He was starting to get the feel of space flight. Time to kick it up a notch and see just how poorly the simulators did at replicating atmospheric flight conditions.

 

[Cim Salro]

Location: Visitor Landing Pad of Ollix Medlabs
Ship: The Aschansa
Objective: Piracy
Allies or Enemies: [member="Racosidae"] [member="Psychonaut"]
OOC: Let me know if I missed someone near the facility

Before she landed, Cim slid her arms and legs into a medical-looking jumpsuit. She hadn’t been quite so prepared to procure a real Ollix Medlabs one or even a badge, but what the redhead Anzati could not do with trickery, she would make up for with hypnosis and violence.

She made up some flim-flam about being a hospital representative on Maramere, looking for a bacta contract, but that only allowed her access to the visitor area of the docking bay. Where she really wanted to be was where the cargo was moved. Again, improvisation would have to do.

Once down the ramp of The Aschansa, Cim squinted and winced at the bright fluorescent lights which illuminated the ship bay. She tied her tangled nectarine-hued hair up into a tidy bun. It took her a moment to steady herself as the memory soup she’d consumed still coursed through her veins. If she was going to stand any chance of blending in as an Ollix worker, she needed to be able to walk in a straight line. Glimpsing herself in a sliver of transparisteel, Cim certainly looked like a downtrodden worker bee with sallow skin and dark circles under her eyes, a slumped over gait and an ill fitting uniform.

“Here we go,” she said to herself, measuring the distance between where cargo may be transported and her ship. If she could not secure a good amount of bacta, it was likely Ollix produced even more valuable medicinal items that she could sell on the blackmarket. Or use for bribery. She was the mother karkin' Sultana of Spice after all.

Once the Anzati walked inside the facility, she busied herself in the lobby, trying to act industrious while she waited for an opportune moment to forcefully persuade a security guard to let her in.

 

[Tatya Zane]

[member="Psychonaut"] [member="Luther Ando"]

Jarik paused, crate resting on the lip of the cargo-hold, as he turned to survey the small dock. Something had prickled along the back of his neck. Felt like he was being watched, but even as he gazed into the shadowy corners and doorways of the bay, he could see nothing. A shiver ran down his spine and he cracked his knuckles before moving the crate further into the ship.

It was unnerving and made no sense. Perhaps he was just getting paranoid. He'd been doing this sort of work long enough for that to potentially be the case. After all, it could save his life at some point. Perhaps it had in the past. There was just no way for him to know.

As he strode out of the ship, he leaned in next to the supervisor. "We want to wrap this up."

"Kark off, Creel," the grumbled reply came. "You think you do this job better than me?"

Jarik held up his hands in defense. "Your boss hired me for muscle and security. That's what I'm giving you. You don't want it, fine. But things go wrong, they're on you."

The hefty alien simply shrugged and waved him back towards the crates. Jarik held back a sigh and went to grab another box. He'd only been paid half in advance and he needed the full amount to make ends meet. So, he would keep his mouth shut, do what he was told, and collect the credits at the end.

 

[Jeb Belanger]

Location: Container 2B Aboard the Sinanju (BFF-1 Bulk Freighter) in Transit to Vero
Objective: Extraction
Allies: Dun Scaith, Rebel Team “Mephisten Red”
Opposition: TBD



He had shifted in and out of the underworld and this persona. It had been that way for nearly a year now. Almost regular but still unpredictable, intel and work came piling in, smothered him for days or weeks. Like day and night, the grimy underworld of the outer rim, the cold mechanical clamour of his commanders ship. His work in the underworld returned and retreated, measuring out the months in between hits for the Siel Manta and his other identity as a Sith agent.

His conditioning from an early age helped prevent any sort of remorse slip into his conscious, and it helped, in its dry cruel way. He’d all but killed a man in the past few days. And all he had of his target to carry around and haunt himself with, were the reek of his breath, the scrape of a beard on the back of his neck. No name to be ashamed of erasing. No face to phase into his dreams. The conditioning by his former superiors in the council bled and hollowed all of that, same as everything else.

How many was it now? two hundred? five hundred? the kills all blurred into one over the years and he could not keep count of his tally, lest the years condemned him for it. Jeb had his tools of the trade arrayed before him on the dingy steel table in the container, a long stiletto vibro dagger, garrotte for dealing with unwanted guards and a strange little thing they called a shatter gun. Normally he abhorred blasters for hit jobs and spying, preferring the more personal touch that came with slitting the targets throat or garroting them, yet a blaster on more dangerous missions was a valuable safeguard in case you were caught. However in his twenty five year career as a spy and assassin, he had never had the fortune to utilise a shatter gun that the roaches famously used.

[member="Drystan Marakos"] [member="Adele Crawford"] [member="Cardinam"]
OCC info: Roaches is a derogatory term that Jeb and his more alien rebel comrades use for Verpine.

 

[Mellifluous Magenta]

Flight Officer Rowena Ewesa, Pixie Seven
Post 2
Location: Orbit of Vero
Equipment/Ship: Comet OSM-10, Flight Suit, TIE/SF - Conqueror
Allies: The First Order, [member="Rolf Amsel"], [member="Kyli DT-6767"], [member="Erika Von Strauss"], [member="Marriskcal Lati"], [member="Luther Ando"], [member="Racosidae"], [member="Nagisa Yamamoto"], [member="Tao Liu Xian"]

Some time passed, and the vessel that Rowena was to escort down to the surface still had not even emerged from the hangar. She was beginning to get worried, which would inevitably lead to paranoia if her apprehension continued to fester. The situation was not helped by the sight of a wildly flying TIE interceptor skimming along the hull of the FIV Malignant, before the craft dipped down and began to descend towards the planet below. Immediately, Rowena tapped the control board in front of her, intent upon linking a comm channel with the pilot of the craft. The IFF tags on the interceptor were green, but she needed to verify the identity of the pilot.

Rowena primed the twin ion engines of her fighter, and with a sharp intake of breath, the diminutive pilot accelerated her craft towards the interceptor. Then, she angled her fighter behind the interceptor in a textbook pure pursuit angle, and aimed her weapons at the craft.

"Pilot ([member="Tao Liu Xian"]), state the identification number of your craft and your personnel service tag in that order." Rowena ordered, in a tone that reminded her of her drill instructor back at the First Imperial Military Academy of Dosuun. "Failure to comply will result in disciplinary action."