Populate Operation Arbiter | The Tion Necessity

[Lucien Dooku]

AN AGE OF STRIFE STORY
THE TION NECESSITY
OPERATION ARBITER
THEME


With the Chiss Reclamation's momentum brought to a grinding halt after the dual strategic victories upon the battlefields of Nirauan & within the Redoubt cluster itself, the KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE are afforded a moment of reprieve from their wartime deployments and redeploy to their respective sectors to rest and replenish their ranks.

It isn't long before several chapters are once more called into service at the behest of the Warden of the Empire's command, consolidating once more beneath TASK FORCE DOOKU to respond to the growing refugee crisis stemming from The Empire's brewing conflict against the independent TION REPUBLIC to its eastern frontier.

With several Knight-Chapters -- both combat and humanitarian -- in tow, Task Force Dooku makes haste to the border world of CHANDAAR, a world which had been formally annexed into The Empire after their secession from the Tion Republic turned into a full-blown civil war.

While the Conflict has simmered down in recent weeks, the newly-independent government has requested The Empire's assistance in keeping the peace, while also serving as a useful deterrent against the Tion Republic's attempts to regain influence over the world once more.

Authorized by the Warden of the Empire's authority himself, this venture onto the frontier was undertook immediately, and given the codename of

OPERATION ARBITER
​

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CHANDAAR // IMPERIAL FRONTIER
HUMANITARIAN ZONE AMBARIL
​

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Ambaril had seen better days; He couldn't tell if the worst days had come to past, or if the troubles that were brewing on world were just the beginning, but nonetheless he'd come to the planet with his Knights in tow and would do what he could, where he could. Chandaar in its whole had swiftly changed hands after the government-in-being transitioned from being aligned to the Tion Republic, and into a hodgepodge of Imperial-aligned politicians and military men who saw the writing on the wall after the Empire's expected resurgence against the rising threat of Chiss revanchism.

The Empire had coveted the worlds of the Tion Republic long since before the war against the Chiss had began, and though their efforts to assimilate these worlds would range from discreet to covert depending on who was in charge of their acquisition, Chandaar's secession from the Republic would come as a welcomed surprise to the Triumvirate, who didn't quite plan on the world entering the Empire at the exact moment it did.

Civil war, as a result, was the inevitable outcome of such a move. The military split itself into a multitude of armed parties, and throughout the planet's surface what were once relatively peaceful cities, had turned into urban centers of hell and warfare. The civilians themselves were the ones to suffer from this the most, and in the outcome of the war coming to an Imperial-aligned victory, a humanitarian crisis would unfold that threatened to spill over into the western frontier if it were not brought into check.

With this in mind, Task Force Dooku set out once more, a number of Knight-Chapters being brought in tow to deal with the situation at the behest of the Warden of the Empire's decree.

A semblance of peace had been maintained after the arrival of Lucien's Task Force in orbit of the world. Crusader Chapters had been brought along to reinforce the Imperial garrison who'd established themselves on world, providing the population with an extra sense of security in the face of perceived backlash from the Republic, who many assumed would do whatever they could to see the world brought back into the hands of independent Tion state.

Mission Chapters were the bulk of those who'd been brought along, their vessels accompanied by flotillas of logistic ships which brought metric tons of medicinal supplies, foodstuffs, and attached personnel to serve as supplemental civil servants in adjacency to the planet's existing groups of law enforcement already struggling to maintain the situation on the ground.

A select few Inquisitorial Chapters too were brought along for the venture as well. Elements of Tion-backed insurgents were still present in both the cities and the countryside itself, and their skillset would prove highly useful in weeding out these cells where they hid, ensuring that the reported terrorist attacks across Chandaar would be halted entirely once they were done.

It was a full-spectrum operation of security and integration, and one that the Knights themselves would consider a vacation in comparison to their usual duties assigned. Ambaril in specific, despite the hectic movement of the locals and refugees who went about the city with a latent sense of fear, had been secured in its entirety after the arrival of Dooku's Task Force. For those who accompanied Lucien on the ground there, it would prove eerily lax, and nothing like his Crusaders were used to in the weeks prior to the assignment at hand.

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[Lucien Dooku]

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AMBARIL // CAPITAL CITY OF CHANDAAR



A gathering of Knights had been arranged under Lucien's orders no later than several days into Chandaar's occupation. Everything had been moving as expected, and while the meeting itself was unexpected at best, it was stressed beforehand that there were no alarming threats to Ambaril's security which brought about the meeting in the first place. It was arranged outside the city hall, where Lucien idled upon the top of the long flight of steps which led to the former Republican building behind him. Charred marks of blackened Duracrete marked the signs of the battle there during the civil war, offset by the humanitarian stations that were set up in front of them by the Mission Chapters present. Lucien and those who he'd called together would remain in the foreground, away from the Knights who had tasks elsewhere, or the Stormtroopers who pulled security around the city as well.

He'd wait until the group of Knights called forwards had been gathered before him, allowing them to mingle amongst eachother until his eyes set forth upon the final few who were set to arrive had come. He'd known them all by name; whether it was through their actions done in the name of the Knights, or a personal connection, none of those present were strangers to the Warden who lazily sat on the steps above them.

Lucien pushed himself onto his feet, dusting off the white cloak that made him stand out from the locals, and addressed the men and woman before him with a smirk. He was in a relatively good mood, after all, mostly due to the calm situation that had been standardized since their arrival.

It was quiet before he spoke, and he allowed his eyes to scan the group slowly before the silence was finally broken by himself.

"I'm going to start this out by saying, I don't think there's any need for inspirational speeches, or long-winded rhetoric to build up morale. It's been a busy couple of months, and everyone i've called upon here has been at the forefront of the Knights at my side, doing what you all could to protect not just the Empire, but those within it who are our charges as well. You've all done good work before, and this assignment, albeit tense in nature, is a cakewalk in comparison to what we've all been through."

He folded his hands across his chest, taking a step down from the top of the stairs, slowly making his way closer to the group beneath him.

"I've pulled you all together to take part in a recently-formulated mission; one that i'm leading directly. It's simple, really; Hearts and Minds. This world's people are still weary about Imperial rule, and rightfully so given the civil war that happened. With that in mind, it's my goal to make our presence felt within the city as not just occupiers or humanitarian providers, but as the future comrades that we intend for ourselves to be. I want all Knights present, no matter your rank, to pair up with one or two of your comrades present. Eengage in a patrol down any of the routes, in any of the respective sectors that will be provided in just a few moments."

An Imperial officer -- a Myrmidon one, at that -- made their way through the group seconds later, passing out dataslates which provided them with a number of different sectors to choose from.

"Under my authority as Warden, each of you will have the authority yourselves -- regardless of rank -- to dispense justice onto the locals as needed, but abuse this trust, and you will pay in kind. Otherwise, find yourselves a partner, and set out. Dismissed."

Lucien continued down the stairs, moving through the Knights as each of them reviewed their dataslates and began to scramble to find a partner to bring along in tow. It didn't take the Knight-Warden to any amount of time to determine who was accompanying him, as he cut his way through the crowd with a smirk, and extended a hand out and upon the shoulder of the Knight-Regent of Faerie Junction himself. While such an assignment was admittedly -- in Luc's opinion, at least -- beneath the matters of a Moff, Lucien had personally requested for his friend to accompany his Task Force to the frontier. Despite their ranks within the greater Imperial structure, it was important that they moved on the ground with the others to make their presence felt, much like with what the current mission was now.

"It's good to see you've not fallen to the trap of obesity via bureaucracy, Knight-Regent Mel." Luc smirked, jabbing at his long-time friend with the remark. "So how bout we partner up like old times? It's been a while since we've kicked some ass side-by-side, or even hit up a cantina for that matter. I hope you've not grown boring with age, old friend."


​

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OPERATION ARBITER
HEARTS AND MINDS
LOCATION: AMBARIL
OBJECTIVE: Engage in standard patrols on established routes [listed below via dataslate provided], engage in HEARTS AND MINDS with locals as necessary, build internal rapport within Knight-Groups established; increase unit cohesion as a result.
OOC: Find a partner or two to join with if possible, ,or roll solo if you wanna. Partnering up is ENCOURAGED heavily.
​

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DOWNTOWN - URBAN CENTER
Status: Intact, security maintained & civilian populace resuming daily lives.

COMMERCIAL DISTRICT - CITY INTERIOR
Status: Intact, security at 80%; civilian population mostly docile, small criminal elements rampant due to the war

EASTERN RESIDENTAL - SPACEPORT DISTRICT
Status: Eastern Residental 40% damaged during the war, Spaceport damaged during the war, security cordon not guaranteed, rising crime & humanitarian issues.

WESTERN RESIDENTIAL DISTRICT - CITY OUTSKIRTS
Status: Western Residential District heavily damaged; major humanitarian crisis in the sector coupled with crime brought about by lack of civil services and unchecked criminal elements. Security cordon not maintained, caution advised. Knight Presence requested by local authorities.

​

 

[Rakaan Horne]

COMMERCIAL DISTRICT:-
Sahar

His recent missions had been selfish in their nature. In the old ruins of Coruscant, Rakaan battled a Jedi Master before the theft or reclamation of a holocron once intended for himself; on the volcanic moon of Mustafar, the former Jedi drew his silver blade in the face of the Sith in some effort to redeem himself for his self-believed sins. In either case, the young Knight-Commander had been notably absent from the borders of the Empire in the wake of the Chiss crisis. Yet returned somewhat more content than when he left.

Rakaan awaited the arrival of his patrol partner in the Commercial District. On a mission to earn hearts and minds, the Imperial elected to strip himself of all armour and instead favoured attire more reminscient of robes. He smiled at passerbys and offered a nod or a wave to those that looked at him, which was more often than not. In the palm of his hand was a small pile of sliced fruit he purchased from a stand, yet not for himself but rather the primate that bounced around his feet. He offered a taken slice, one after the other, all until it rushed up his person and claimed the lot for itself faster than Rakaan had bothered to counter.

He sighed, even with a slight grin, as it ran off down the street. He crossed one ankle over the other as his arms folded across his chest, and leaned into the nearby wall.

"Alright, then." He huffed.

 

[Sahar]

Sahar|Imperial Knights|Operation Arbiter
Tags:// Rakaan Horne

"How very charitable of you, Rakaan."

Sahar retorted, easing herself off from where she'd leaned against observing the other knight's altruistic deeds in public display. She wasn't one for interacting with the thriving masses of the Empire; that was for the diplomatic corps; her purpose was beyond that. And yet, at the insistence of Dooku and the others, she was to be here with Rakaan and win the hearts and minds of the public.

Pain.

"Is this going to be an all-day thing?"

She sighed, lifting up her hood that had obscured her features to any and all that passed the Kandaran woman in the streets. Sahar's saber was kept well hidden and out of sight; she chose to dress down like Rakaan had out of her usual flamboyant and militaristic flair Sahar was known for. ​

 

[Rakaan Horne]

COMMERCIAL DISTRICT:-
Sahar

In some manner of amusement, Rakaan huffed.

"You say that as if I did it for the mission," a quesitoning incline of his brow followed, "You can feed the animals, Sahar, I'm sure you have it in you."

Of what little Rakaan had known of Sahar, her otherwise mysterious and no-nonsense nature had soon become the most apparent of her qualities. Her latest comment had also made it clear to him she believed their mission fell into the nonsense category, rendered beneath her. Yet whether she was convinced her value was better served elsewhere on more crucial duties, there was the chance to find comfort in that Rakaan had also been stationed here; word of the death of Darth Sephi at his hands was known in the Empire, as much as his recent and independent battles with the Jedi and Sith.

"Days, I imagine." The Imperial answered, entertained. "Hearts and minds aren't won in a day. Should be a little campaign of our own."

 

[Orik Dakari]

Operation Arbiter
Temporarily attached to TASK FORCE DOOKU, 303rd Forward Security Battalion, 1st Company, 1st Platoon, Section 1
Location: COMMERCIAL DISTRICT - CITY INTERIOR, AMBARIL
Objective: PATROL INNER SECURITY CORDON​

"Hey Sarge, you heard about the canteen food," Private Diel asked, his tone indicating he intended to continue his line of inquiry regardless of the response.

Sergeant Orik Dakari sighed.

"No."

"I mean, like, why are they taking away the chicken rice? That was the only one I liked."

"Learn to like the rest, then," Private 'Jes' Kinall answered. She'd recovered from the concussion sustained on Nirauan, though Orik could tell the scars of that front-line experience would remain for a while.

"I think one of the Knights complained. Too spicy for them."

Orik stayed silent, waving away a fly coming close to his face as he and the two Privates entered the shade of the armoury, circumventing a hole in the pavement filled with stagnant mud. The outpost, though inside one of the safer areas of the city, was not spared the destruction of the civil war. A mere cluster of reinforced concrete, the outpost was one of several that maintained the inner security cordon in Ambaril. Outside the base, Orik could hear XV-60s rolling away from the outpost. If they were rotated to the outer cordon, perhaps they would see more of the rollers.

In all honesty, Orik was relieved that 1st Company was set up inside the safest sectors. Not that he would ever run from danger, but they needed the break after the trenches of Nirauan. The 303rd, and especially 1st Coy, had lost many, and the companies assigned to this Task Force had to be reinforced on the long journey here by newly minted soldiers and MP platoons from disbanded Line Battalions. Even with the reinforcements, 1st Coy had to share cordon security duties with attached Infantry, Stormtroopers and even the odd Field Artillery battery lacking artillery (due to the nature of Operation Arbiter).

The MP sergeant led the trio to the duty station attached to the armoury proper to clock in their upcoming patrol. The duty officer was Infantry, and he was clearly enjoying this temporary peacekeeping assignment, his leg propped up on the table.

"So early?" the soldier at the desk asked, looking up at the three already in their Combat Armor.

"Don't want to be late taking over from the previous foot patrol."

The other man chortled.

"Right, I forgot you guys are MP. Wait over by the clearing station, I'll call up the Armourer."

The trio waited in front of the Armoury bars, twiddling their thumbs.

"Don't we have ration packs? You could eat those," Jes finally spoke up.

"Ate mine already."

Orik turned to the pair.

"We're not supposed to finish the ones assigned to us. They are meant for field operations."

"Not a lot of field out here Sarge."

"Very funny. How are you supposed to do Civilian Relations feeding starving kids if you don't have any rations on hand?"

"Well, we could use yours," Jes ventured.

Before Orik could continue, the Armoury door opened, the Armourer in PT shirt waiting for them.

"No stormies today?" He asked as he tagged and handed out one blaster rifle at a time.

"Not today."

"Mmh, well, if you think you need more firepower let me know. Heard the new directive, right? The 'mission requirement flexibility' one."

"I don't know about taking more, but the commercial district is kinda safe, right? Think we could turn in our pistols at least?" Diel asked.

Orik shot him a glare.

"No, we're not doing that. Bad enough that command mandates MPs return our rifles in this sector, but we are not giving up our pistols."

Having finished drawing their blaster rifles, the trio donned their helmets and headed to the exit checkpoint from the outpost, the sun beating down on them. Hearing the internal air-conditioning of his armour kick into gear, Orik idly wondered why the security forces could not have repurposed existing buildings as their outpost, instead building bare concrete on an empty square.

The trio reached the exit checkpoint and waved at the MPs on sentry duty. It was good to see familiar names in the HUD.

"Sergeant Dakari, you're early. You planning to go now?" The Corporal at the gate asked, rhetorically.

"Yeah," Orik replied, also rhetorically. He'd made clear his opinions to the 1st Coy MPs on the necessity for some military law enforcement presence in this section of the sector, despite, or perhaps because of, the lack of real danger. Nothing more detrimental to the mission than a Stormie or Knight with Conquering Hero Syndrome making a mess of this part of town when their hands got too idle after being rotated back from the outer cordon.

The corporal nodded and waved them through, the trio heading out into the streets. "We are on task now. Eyes front." Orik knew it was a lost cause on that front; soldiers liked to chatter, and this sector was, for all of Orik's insistence on mission protocol, safe enough that they could get away with it from time to time even on foot patrol. In fact, foot patrol presence in this sector was more to keep up the image of law and order and ingratiate Imperial presence to the city. If there was a high chance of serious firepower in the hands of hostiles in this sector (as there was in the Residential areas), they would be riding in the XV-60 rollers already.

Only a few metres from the walls of the outpost and it was like it never existed; busy streets, bustling market activity and a civilian cop chasing after a street thief. As the trio checked their HUD maps and followed their patrol route, Orik could see the civilians moving out of their way. Combat Armor, if nothing else, looked intimidating to civilians, and while higher-ups suggested that military presence swap out face-covering helmets for the old helms in the downtown center, they were afforded no such luxury here. A group of kids, looking like they'd just come out of the Residential warzones, swarmed Diel, and Orik stopped to watch the Private wave at them and talk to the only adult in the group, who was trying to corral the kids away. For all his... negative professional attributes, Diel was probably the civilian-friendliest presence in the Section.

Diel looked up and tried to signal something to Orik and Jes, but he was too busy talking to the civilians to tell them. Jes interpreted his signals easily and comm'ed over to Orik:

"Sarge, I think he's gonna need your rations."

 

[Simon Meinrad]

C A V A L I E R
THE EMPIRE
CHANDAAR | AMBARIL | CITY OUTSKIRTS
OPEN TO INTERACTION

Another victory for the Empire, its borders to be expanded shortly with the annexation of Chandaar after its blood civil war. Seceding from the decadence of democracy and its institutions from the Tion Republic, the rebels had done the work for the Empire in driving them out from the system. All that remained was to defend its borders and rebuild it from the ashes of war.

All were touched by the war, but how dire was to be seen.

The outskirts of Ambaril, Chandaar's capital, required the most assistance from what he could tell. Buildings and infrastructure in ruins, the people living in impoverish conditions; it was like day and night when compared to the interior and urban districts of Ambaril. This was indeed more lax than the recent missions he was involved, especially compared to Tython; however, there was no rest for the Templar. He would see to it that there would be order in these streets and challenge those that would dare undermine his course. Reinforce the lack of civil servants and tend to the needy.

Simon had his mind set to cleanse the streets from its crime. He was no Inquisitor nor possessed the talents to detect crime, but such scum was abundant here. Didn't need to look hard to find what he was seeking.

 

[Aoki-Barran Mira]

Growing up, training under her uncle and father, Mira had always known she had wanted to be a peace keeper. Her parents had been Jedi at some point in their lives, and she watched her uncle work as law enforcement on her homeworld of Atrisia. It was apparent to her parents, however, that the Jedi had not been what they seemed. Her mother had been slain in the line of duty, and her father had left the Silver Jedi Order for multiple reasons - including her mother's passing, a heretical alliance with the Sith of all forces, and an overall loss of faith in the Jedi Way. He had followed his own path to becoming a protector of the weak, and he had always encouraged Mira to do the same. Forge her own way. Even after her father died, Mira took all his lessons to heart.

Now, she had forged her own path. She was a member of the Imperial Knights, a servant of the Empire dedicated to order and peace. While Mira did not always agree with some imperial policies, she did the best she could despite them. She earnestly believed that peace and prosperity could be accomplished by a new imperial order. She fought for the hope of a stable and safe galaxy.

Was she right in this path? Only time and effort would tell.

Now, she walked the streets of Chandaar. Headed for the outskirts of the city, the Mirialan hybrid had her mask pulled to the side of her head. Her light imperial armor glistened in the sunlight, her three Atrisian blades clinking in their bamboo sheaths. An Imperial Knight Lightsaber proudly hung on her belt, an energy bow hung on her back.

She walked the busy streets, scanning the crowds. She knew that these people, right here, were the ones she was fighting for. Her eyes gazed into the looming alleyways and under the looming shadows of walls and buildings. Darkness hid in darkness. The light was coming to expose darkness's evils and cut them down. She looked over to the person she was walking bedsides, her beloved master. She adjusted her straw kasa hat, dipping her head in respects as she spoke, "Sensei, where do we begin?"

Mira deeply respected and cared for her teacher. Raina Demici took her in and gave her purpose when her father's death had left her with none. They had trained and fought side by side, keeping peace and order within the outskirts of Imperial space. Raina even housed Mira in the Demici family estate, a grand honor Mira never took lightly. Mira looked to her master, awaiting orders. Whatever Demici was planning, she would trust her judgements.

Tish Cowen @Jeremy Irons Simon Meinrad Michael Barran

 

[Michael Barran]

1st post

CAIRN_ONE

THE HIGHLAND BROTHERHOOD

TAGS

Lucien Dooku Tish Cowen Aoki-Barran Mira

Simon Meinrad

HEARTS AND MINDS: A WOAD'S KINDNESSES - PART 1

Western Residential District, City Outskirts,
Ambaril, Chandaar (Spring of 877 ABY)

<"All units operating the Western Outskirts, this is Barran! Remember the "Hearts and Minds" doctrine - but remember who runs this city now.... If they do nothing wrong, make allies of them; but if they do plenty wrong, make an example of them instead. The message is to be spread, but we need living locals in abundance to expand the reach of said message. I'll be around, Cairn One out!">​

Walking into a rather dirty cantina, full of bruisers and gangsters of all sorts, the Wanderer would smirk as he made eye-contact with the largest of them, sniggering as the smartest ones among them sat back down again. As he turned round to the rough-featured barmaid, Lord Michael smirked again as he drawled,'Good afternoon, dawl.... Any whiskey behind ye, or....?', nodding to the rather basic choice of distilled wonders on the mirrored shelves behind her head. More brutes had risen from their seats though, casting quite the tense atmosphere as Barran proceeded to sit down to a rather cold reception from the woman at the bar; though he had outed himself as being of Imperial stock, and not only that, but of the same ethnicity as the man leading the Empire at the time, an accent that was gaining recognition from most with ears that paid attention to Holocasts and the like.

'Should I leave the bottle and let you all get on with it, or are you going to at least attempt to behave yourself?'

Chortling at the offer, the Force-wielding Woad would eventually answer,'Both actually.... I'll take the bottle and give my paid assurance that I won't be the one who starts it; but beyond that, perhaps leaving us to it would serve more uses to your life-expectancy an' the like. Nothing personal, darlin'. Just Imperial business is all.', with a cheeky smirk before downing his first glass of dist-swillery spirits without breaking eye-contact. Then, with the bottle dumped on the bar counter next to him, Lord Michael tilted his head towards the nearest exit to prompt the tough barmaid to leave as he had previously suggested, perhaps casting the Empire in a positive light on this gesture alone, though there was so much more that would need to be done before any such gestures were received well by the locals.

'Good luck, Goidel.'

'Aye, cheers. Look efter yersel - an' nae turnin' back either.', the Wanderer concluded, turning to the others with the most brazen smirk he could muster. There was no real worry for his safety in any viper's nest by then, as much and more had been learned, perfected and mastered within the confines of Castle Dooku, earning his place as the Magister Militum of the Successor's state-in-waiting, so a room full of barrel-chested louts would be a walk in the park for one who was growing in power both as an Imperial Knight and as a Druid in his own right. However, it became quite obvious that his plans weren't going to consist of killing when he finally said,'Don't take it the wrong way, fellas. But today, I only need to beat you all into submission.', pulling out an MP's baton from within his stylish officer's overcoat as he reached for the open bottle with his free hand.

'Its alright, lads. If I had wanted you all dead, I wouldn't have waited this long t'kill ye. You would've seen nothing of my face until it was much too late.... But still, I'm no harbinger of death today - nope, not even maybe.'

Orders must be obeyed.
And if following them helps the Empire, all the more reason to obey.​

With head tilted back in assured safety from behind, Lord Michael would drink a few gulps from the bottle before dumping it back onto the bar-counter, fully intending to drink again as soon as his good work was done on all the louts around him. It was obvious that some still fancied their chances against him, which surprised the Woad somewhat, bringing further aggravation to men who were used to seeing fearfulness from people on the back foot, especially when Barran started laughing again. Then, without any warning in the slightest, the stool next to that which Lord Michael was sitting on before was thrown across the room, commencing the punishment with a little shock-and-awe to get the fighting underway properly, causing the boldest among them to spring forth from the mob first.

Bracing as the first wave closed in, the Wanderer eventually roared out,'NOW IT'S A FETHING PARTY, LADS!!!', as the first blade swept a little too close to his throat, answered with a sickening crunch in a countering pommel-strike to the assailant's jaw. What followed next would be nothing short of sadistic, as Barran would find his warfighting momentum, that which was often attributed to Galidraan III's soldiering class; and in the heat of the fight, bones and muscles alike would be bludgeoned into submission for the majority of the duration, even after the Woad's carefully-selected baton itself had snapped in the affray. Lord Michael's hands would be covered in scrapes, bruises, and cuts by the end, and blood spatters going all the way up his sleeves by the time he was finished with the brutes, and in seeing that his work was done in just one of many seedy cantinas in the area, Barran would chuckle again as he returned to his bottle.

'That's right, fellas.... You're Imperial hooligans now, my personal cannon-fodder until I say otherwise! hope ye enjoyed the mother of all mass-initiations by the way, as you're all pro-Imperial from now on - at Lord Barran's behest! AND I AM LOVING EVERY LAST SECOND OF IT!!!!'

A hearty, wheezing effort that would've offered nothing but insult to injury to the battered mass of local idiots, especially in the moments he started drinking and continuing to laugh moments later. An ultimate among disrespects, a Lord among disdains - and it was all being cackled from the very larynx of the man who had just subjected them all to a blunt-force mauling.

'Look at you all, bunch o' Jessies to the last! Apply some bacta-patches here or there an' you'll be right as rain, lads! Either way, you're all going to help me maul the other idiots on this strip, and I honestly don't care if you're in too much pain to help, you're coming along with me anyway.... Ugly degenerates, the lot o' ye! GET ON YOUR FEET, WEAKLINGS!!!! I HAVEN'T EVEN STARTED YET!!!!'

 

[Kase Vass]

Operation Arbiter | Commercial District | City Interior
Objective: Rendezvous with your partner, and make your over to the Spaceport District with the medical supplies to the humanitarian station.
Allies: Rakaan Horne | Melvain Braxis | Dorian Sicarrio

Kase had barely had a week to orient himself to Bastion before he found himself on his first assignment as a Knight-Errant. The call had come in following a quiet dinner with "Uncle Matma"- recovering from grievous injuries sustained during the Chiss Reclamation Campaign. He'd barely had time to inform his professors of his absence- and they were oddly...accepting of it. But then again, why would they push back on an Imperial Knight doing his or her duty?

Ah, the joys of being a public servant.

And so he found himself on Chandaar. After Lord Dooku had given his informal speech, the Knights had dispersed to take on their varied assignments. Kase, with his background as a medic, was charged with bringing medical supplies to the beleaguered Spaceport District- easily the most chaotic part of the Eastern District, where he would assist. But first, he was to rendezvous with a senior Knight.

Rhogo, Kase's familiar, was carrying both him and the supplies. The presence of an Imperial Knight atop an akk dog was atypical, attracting a great deal of attention, but it warded off even the most desperate criminal element- something that would be of great use, the closer they got to the Spaceport District.

He sighed, nudging Rhogo into the shade of a long roof, as he waited for his partner.

 

[Sahar]

Sahar|Imperial Knights|Operation Arbiter
Tags:// Rakaan Horne

"Mhmph."

She grumbled in indignation, accepting Rakaans point with the most amount of acknowledgement she could conjure up for that moment in time. Fortunately, Sahar and Rakaan were not the same, Rakaan a former Jedi who'd grown disillusioned with the little rabble called the NJO. She wondered if he still harboured some feelings towards his former calling in the New Jedi Order, some weakness that'd come only to harm her and the others in the long run.

"So it seems, no trouble this side I imagine."

Sahar hoped so, would save her pretending she was interested in the civilians her and Rakaan would come across. That was more painful than any lightsaber fight or war of words with Dooku over the conduct of the order, no training in harsh conditions and backbreaking conditioning had prepared her for that. She at least could concede Rakaan was the more adept of the two. ​

 

[Dorian Sicarrio]

Kase Vass​

"Yo, sick dog kid." Dorian walked over, tugging at his armor's gauntlet to tighten it. Not that it really needed tightening -- when he'd been suiting up for the day, he'd been struck by how well the armor fit. It'd been nearly two years since he'd last been in the field. The personal leave he and Mavia had gotten had given them ample time to enjoy each other's company. Why they'd been split up once they returned was a mystery to him.

"Went to Haruun Kal once. Holy shit, man, y'all are tough as hell." He gave a smile to the akk dog, and a friendly little wave, but didn't get too close. Then he looked up at the young knight-errant. "Kase, right? I'm Dorian. Nice to meet you."

 

[Melvain Braxis]

Lucien Dooku |

The Tion Cluster was a backwater of a backwater. Home to fallen empires, the cluster housed dozens of star systems with few having any sort of history of note outside of being vassals to said fallen empires. Newly promoted after Tython and sat comfortably in a position of power in this new Empire Melvain had nearly denied Lucien's summons, if only so that he could drown his memories of Tython in drink. But one did not deny the summons of the rightful heir to the Empire and Warden of the Empire. And to think I nearly gave this man up as a traitor dressed on a silver platter. The thought sent a shiver down his spine.

"Not for lack of trying," he said, a ghost of a smile touching his lips. "As long as the Cantinas here have wines in a good vintage. None of that rancor piss they call drink." By the Force but it was good to see Lucien again though. Despite his dour mood Melvain was looking forward to this, but he wasn't sure there was much to patrol in the city. It was mostly quelled by the Empire, the Civil War done and over with.

 

[Rakaan Horne]

COMMERCIAL DISTRICT:-
Sahar

"So far, no." Rakaan remarked with a faint smirk and motioned to detatch himseld from the old, filth-ridden wall amidst all the markets. It was all merchants and their wares that surrounded them, those and their buyers of various walks of life - either in their histories, cultures, or even species. Chandaar seemed to have been a home to them all, no matter what. He turned his eyes down towards the then retrieved dataslate and further said, "It mentions some small criminal elements, anyways, and I imagine they're all hiding from us."

An army of stormtroopers inspired fear; the deployment of Imperial Knights silenced whatever bravery they concocted in their ranks.

The Imperial wandered forwards with a short few steps, turned on his heel round and around to see the streets and those that walked them more clearly. It reminded him of... older memories, of other cities, the kind he still held onto. A certain fondness, the kind Sahar was to consider a weakness. But nonetheless, Rakaan appeared cheery.

"Come on," he waved her closer, "Standing in the shade doesn't really qualify as a patrol."

 

[Kase Vass]

Operation Arbiter | Commercial District | City Interior
Objective: Make your over to the Spaceport District with the medical supplies to the humanitarian station.
Allies: Dorian Sicarrio

Kase tensed, then relaxed when he saw a Knight walking up to him. A name sprung from the dossier he sped-read on the way from Bastion- Dorian Sicarrio. A senior Imperial Knight. Served with distinction in the Sith-Imperial War.

"Master Sicarrio, an honor", he responded, bowing. "And Rhogo appreciates the compliment", he added wryly, sensing waves of satisfaction emanating from his familiar. He paused and he played Dorian's words back in his head.

"Pardon, you went to Haruun Kal on purpose? Don't get me wrong, it's the home of my clan and forebears, a thousand generations past, etc, etc, but...why did you go there?", he queried.

"Given we have a bit of a hike ahead of us, I'm going to need that story, ASAPedly sir", he said jokingly, excited to engage with the man as he nudged Rhogo forward.

 

[Sahar]

Sahar|Imperial Knights|Operation Arbiter
Tags:// Rakaan Horne

"Criminals will be criminals, brave only when it's dark out."

She knew their kind all too well; thieving bastards that seemingly multiplied like rats on worlds where the Empire's burning light was weakest and in the dark underbelly of the Empire's cities where they congregated and sold their trash to the masses.

Some of them admittedly had their benefits and uses, be it in providing information to the knights or working for the state to undermine another state's foundations and laws. But like the wild weeds found on her homeland of Kandara, you let them grow too bold and big with their roots entrenched and you've found yourself a problem that won't easily go away long term.

Sahar kept close rank with Rakaan and tailed him as the pair made their way on patrol, passing locals on their way in the city and traders pitting their latest wares for sale to mostly uninterested customers browsing for the day. It reminded her of Kandara in a strange sense; at least the markets here brought back sharp memories of the bazaar, and its desert merchants who sold trinkets and robots found in the sands outside the cities.

"Do you do this often, outside of Bastion?"​

 

[Rakaan Horne]

COMMERCIAL DISTRICT:-
Sahar

His eyes met the cobbled stone underfoot, a hint of amusement in them as he flashed a faint smile and huffed. "I'm not on Bastion often," Rakaan confessed with the turn of his head back towards Sahar, an earnest albeit almost saddened expression became plastered across his features. "It's... uninviting. I fought the Sith for so long, as a Jedi and a Knight. I don't like sleeping in their beds."

To adapt to the culture of the Empire was difficult, bordering on impossible. He admired certain aspects, that much was true, but the difference was startling and for someone so uncompromising... increasingly difficult. His tendency to leave the Empire's borders was known among the Imperial Knights, whether openly or as no more than a room that Rakaan had now confirmed.

Rakaan cleared his throat after a second of silence, whatever hoarse croak that was once trapped in there was evicted; "I busy myself with other missions." He nodded, "I was on Coruscant recently, then Mustafar. But now I'm back here."

He idly peered out across the markets mid-stride and examined the peacefulness of normal lives. Rakaan held a certain... jealousy, whenever it concerned those that only ever had to handle the monotony of normality. He sometimes found the burden of power to be too much.

"You, though?" Rakaan asked with a raised brow, "I take it this isn't your regular duty, especially not on Bastion?"

 

[Sahar]

Sahar|Imperial Knights|Operation Arbiter
Tags:// Rakaan Horne

"Makes this no difference to me; they're all dead and gone or hiding in some dump elsewhere; you scared of the dead Rakaan?"

Sahar chuckled almost dismissively, almost bemused at the idea; she'd had no issue taking over the quarters of a long-dead and gone Sith knight. It wasn't like much was left to remind you of the former jewel of the Sith Empire, other than the buildings in which the knights called home and the many hundreds of graves located outside Bastions boundaries that spoke of the great slaughter that had raged beneath Bastions jagged spiral towers.

"No, it is not, I deal with more pressing matters to be frank."

Sahar's purpose was to fight the Empire's enemies and bring the terror to the doorstep of those foolish and unfortunate enough to stand in the Empire's way. Simple and effective, some only knew violence as a language and were met in kind, especially those that wished to undermine the Empires good work with terrorism and subversion of the masses.

"Coruscant is a dump, a spiritual garbage heap if there ever was any."

She bluntly put, awkwardly standing aside to let an old Mirialan woman pass with her shopping. ​

 

[Rakaan Horne]

COMMERCIAL DISTRICT:-
Sahar

Taken aback, Rakaan had seemed unconvinced.

It was a sudden haze of memories that flooded to him, all of which stemmed from the then intact Jedi Temple on Coruscant. So far from his homeworld of Maramere, yet still the closest to a true home that the then Jedi Padawan and Jedi Knight had ever known. His days often enjoyed out beneath the sun in the various markets, not so dissimilar to those of Chandaar now, or bathed in the various neon lights that lit up the sky able to fly about the vast and never ending scope of the Ecumenopolis. No matter all the heartbreak and misery that came from being a Jedi, the fondness for Coruscant never faded.

"I think you've allowed yourself to become a little too influenced by Imperial propaganda." He retorted casually, with an air of indifference; "Coruscant is a jewel - with issues of its own, though no more than any other civilised system."

Rakaan turned from the street to Sahar and spoke with earnest, "You should visit it on your own time. See it for what it is, rather than what you're told it is."

 

[FN-999]

N I N E S
​

Operation: Arbiter
Location: City Interior - Commercial District
Unit: 908th Stormtrooper Legion - 83rd Stormtrooper Platoon
Interacting With: Orik Dakari | Open to others

FN-999 could say with around 98% confidence that this was the most boring assignment he had ever been given.
​

For the past hour, all he and the approximately four dozen stormtroopers under his direct command had done were march around a seemingly endless road, glancing at the nearby buildings and vendors to make sure no one was doing anything criminal. However, even the dumbest criminal knew not to act up when bucketheads marched by. It was a major flaw that FN-999 had brought up with the system's newly appointed Moff prior to his legion's deployment, but he had been told that "small criminal elements are rampant due to the civil war" and local security forces were not fully equipped to fight them.

Lacking the time in the moment to better train these local security forces, the Empire decided to add stormtroopers to the mix.

"Sir, can we take a water break?" asked a stormtrooper immediately to his right, waving his arm to wipe sweat off his brow.

"It hasn't been twenty minutes since we took our last break." replied FN-999. "Do we really need a water break right now."

Several troopers around them cried out in complaint.

"There's your answer."

"All right, fine. Let's find a spot to break, and then drink up."

The stormtroopers came to a street bazaar with a large orange tarp hanging over the road, providing shade for about a kilometer. They walked in and then split up into four groups of 12, converging near the side of the road in the spaces between street vendors. Each trooper pulled out a canteen from their waist belts and twisted it open, taking a drink of cold, fresh water.

"I guess you could say we're really bucketheads now." said the trooper, chuckling to himself and poking at his helmet.

In order to reduce the intimidation factor of the stormtroopers, the system's Moff had ordered the garrison on Chandarr to trade out their Storm Armor helmets for glorified buckets that protected only the forehead and above.

"For better or for worse." replied FN-999. "Honestly, I don't know what that Moff is thinking. Stormtroopers are supposed to be intimidating to maintain order. Are we humanitarian workers now?"

"Well, the fact that this operation is still going on means that something must be getting done right."

"I suppose so." admitted FN-999 bitterly. "Still, wearing these buckets sets me on edge. My face is completely vulnerable to any gunman or poison or even a flying ball. If anyone figures out my rank..."

"Please, relax. We're fighting petty criminals, not Jedi or Alliance assassins. They know better than to attack professional soldiers, especially soldiers of the 908th. Just lead us well and we'll keep you safe."

The trooper put his hand on FN-999's armored shoulder and patted lightly over his pauldron.

"I'm Spat, stormtrooper sergeant." introduced the trooper.

"Thank you, Spat." replied FN-999. "Now let's wrap this up."

"Hold on." stated Spat suddenly. "We've got MPs joining us."

A squad of grey-armored MPs walked down the road in front of the rehydrating stormtroopers, their task seemingly similar to their own. FN-999 and Spat briefly glanced at each other before both leaving their group. They switched out their canteens for pistols, keeping them lowered as they walked over to the MPs before stopping a few meters in front of them.

"Good afternoon." started FN-999. "I'm Nines of the 908th Legion, currently supervising the 83rd Platoon. What is your assignment here?"