Operation Stickybeak. [Galactic Alliance|First Order]

[Andor Callro 457]

Andor hated the nakedness that came with civilian craft. It always set him on edge. But, when the job called for it, he needed to set aside personal fears and trepidation. But even then, the last few weeks had been a blur. Cybernetic implants to increase cranial capacity, and retinal implants to assist in the dissemination of data. Andor personally wondered if it was worth it. If he was worth it. He wasn't some bloody FOSB stooge. He was a stormtrooper. An alright one sure, but not some spy. Still, Andor had to stick with his guns. This is what he'd signed up for. To serve the First Order. To honour his ancestor, AC-457. He watched as the civilian freighter he'd bartered passage on reverted to realspace.

The journey had been rough to say the least. Not given a week to get used to his new augmentations, the stormtrooper was bundled onto a FOSB ship, and dumped on Belgaroth with orders to get to Yad'Duhl by any means necessary. After two days of waiting for a ship to come by that would take him, Andor paid for passage on an Alliance registered salvager on its way to spend well earned coin. Using his cover story as a starry eyed lad from Mugg Fallow, the stormtrooper paid for his way to the planet.

The trooper pressed his face against the windows, and peered out on Yag'Duhl and the amount of space traffic buzzing around the system. "This is your captain speaking," The old intercom buzzed, "We are on approach to Yag'Duhl, ETA is twenty minutes." The Captain informed them, "I want all hands to stations to unload the cargo."

Andor clung to his duffle bag and double checked he had everything. Pistol of Corellian make, check. Personal communicator from a Nemoidian manucaturer, yep. And finally his macrobinoculars. It was all here. Shivering a little, the stormtrooper waited in silence for the time to arrive and for his mission to begin.

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Andor Callro 457"]

Jorg stood quietly on the edge of one of the smaller cargo bays reserved for military use within the starport. His lips were thin, his head hurt a little, and his fingers had found an odd sort of numbness from clutching his rifle for so long. He let out a sigh within his helmet, his gaze wandering towards the cargo shuttle that had landed almost two hours ago. His head shook slightly as he glanced towards one of the other legionnaires that stood opposite him, the other man likely experiencing the same thing he was.

The 5th Legion didn't usually pull guard duty, especially at Starport, but it seemed that the cargo aboard that shuttle was valuable enough to merit some sort of attention. Just what it was they hadn't been told of course, but Jorg wasn't really one to quesiton orders, the Sith had taught him that.

He frowned slightly still, his fingers slowly stretching away from the handle of his needle disruptor as he tried to get some of the blood flowing through them again. Standing guard was getting annoying as age began to weigh in on him. His mind was sharp as ever, but he found that it was getting more and more difficult to do any of the physical labor that was required of him. Sure he was still pretty spry, even able to take most of the younger guys in the sparring ring, but the next day was always a bit of hell.

"Sergeant."

The voice in his radio caught his attention one hand reaching up to press gently against the side of his helmet. "Yes sir?"

"Take three men and patrol the starport."

Jorg frowned slightly, glancing towards the shuttle. The order seemed an odd one to him, but again he wasn't one for questioning. He shrugged, grateful for the opportunity to stretch his legs. A wave motioned two of his squadmates over to him, and quickly the three legionnaires went out on their patrol.

 

[Aeron Kreelan]

Y A G ' D H U L
O m e g a * P y r e * C o r p o r a t o c r a c y

Defenses: Military Classification: AAA
Omega Pyre Trade Center, Omega Pyre Corporatocracy, FLEETCOM, Uldyr- Class Defense Station, Manufacturing, Trade World, Communications Hub, Shipbuilding, Omega Pyre Trade Station

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[member="Andor Callro 457"] [member="Jorg"]


A world of extremes. With tidal forces drawing water and atmosphere to opposite sides of the world, Yag'Dhul was often considered to be nothing but a small, desolate world.

It wasn't.

Barren it may be, but Omega Pyre along with the native Given had transformed the planet into a fortress world. As one of the three member worlds of the Omega Pyre Corporatocracy, Yag'Dhul had been blessed with economic power but also in industry and production. Omega Pyre employees in the traditional grey uniform would be a constant among the specially crafted cities that regulated the immense gravitational forces of the three moons.

Up in the sky, FLEETCOM along with the several other dozen space stations that protected this vital trade center carefully kept watch. With Sullust recently attacked, all Alliance worlds were under increased security. Checkpoints dotted along with Omega Pyre personnel along with Galactic Alliance Defense Forces.

Every now and then, random searches would ensue. However, no defenses were 100% perfect. Perhaps time would tell.

At least until a ping came in about a traveler from Mugg Fallow: a death world covered with the deadliest creatures in the known verse. The parasitic mnggal-mnggal who can shape shift and take the form of anyone else by using the bodies of their host.

That is how [member="Andor Callro 457"] alias took a ping. Security would come to inspect him to ensure he was not a Mnggal mnggal as soon as he hit customs.

 

[Andor Callro 457]

Andor examined the space around it. Taking not of the space station. His eyes darted around the what he could see. Bugger him and call him Barney. This world was more fortified than most First Order worlds. His eyes darted back and forth, automatically seizing on a target, and then downloading whatever data they could from the image presented in front of him. The freighter slowly meandered to the surface. Dozens of cargo ships stood to land before the freighter. It was a long waiting process, and Andor personally wondered if he'd been found out. Nonetheless, he didn't concern himself with such things. There was no way they could know.

The freighter gently docked at a large, bustling spaceport. The first man off the freighter was the captain, an elderly Chiss. He greeted the encroachig soldiers with a wry smile. "Evenin' lads." He said, "I'm Captain Ikarkedyermuthaandscheeloiktet." he gruffly said, "And this is my ship, the Runner." he pointed to the junker, as two crewmen hauled large pallets of scrap metal and salvaged fighter parts as well as other electronics. "'Ere's the manifest." he added passing a datapad. It was stock standard. Seven crewmen, three passengers and two hundred tonnes worth of scrap metals. "I 'eard yer want to talk to one of the lads we picked up."

Andor walked down the docking ramp, the FOSB had briefed him in case this happened. Mugg Fallow had always been a decidedly interesting choice for a cover planet. "Come on lad!" The captain barked, "These landlubbers want ta see ya!"

Andor nodded, and walked to the soldiers. He scanned them, they were heavily armed, something that was disconcerning. Nonetheless, Andor walked to the group, and awkwardly waved. "Hello." he said in a warm voice, "I'm Curtly Ambrose," he said, looking at them all, "Can I, uh, help you?"

[member="Aeron Kreelan"] | [member="Jorg"]

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Andor Callro 457"] | [member="Aeron Kreelan"]

Most everything within the Starport seemed completely ordinary. There weren't any terrorists running about, no bombers throwing things in trash cans, in fact it seemed to be a perfectly ordinary day. A clutch of children ran past Jorg and the others, their eyes marveling at the 5th Legion soldiers. Jorg smiled beneath his helmet, though the expression faded for a moment as he remembered a similar moment back on Coruscant.

Children hadn't been so happy to see him then.

"Sergeant. Head to Hangar 3B, Need you to escort someone to Pyre security."

He frowned for a second, snapped out of the odd memory by the voice ringing in his ear. The command was another weird one. Why didn't Pyre Security just escort this person themselves? The 5th Legion wasn't starport Security, they didn't have any real authority here on Yag'Dhul, not unless an emergency suddenly sprang up or an invasion force showed it's face. He frowned for a moment, but then once again he simply shrugged. "Yes Sir."

Jorg replied back, motioning towards the other soldiers.

Within just a moment he found the man they were looking for, mostly because he approached them. The former Stormtrooper frowned slightly as the boy waved to him.

"Yes." He told the lad. "Come with us, please."

Jorg doubted that this boy had really done anything, but he wasn't one to quesiton orders. If his commander wanted him to escort the man to Security forces here then that was what he would do, even if it was a complete waste of his time.

 

[Darth Metus]

B R U N C H​

"Recommend: Muli's Cafe. Rating: Four Stars. Known for: Spiced Caf."​

Coming fresh off of yet another contract, the Behemoth figured that stopping to eat was in order. After all, he had not been on Yag'Dhul before and it would have been a shame not to sample to local cuisine. So, whilst strolling down the street, he looked upon his datapad for any notable establishments. "Spiced caf...sounds good." he muttered, before rounding the corner. It did not take much longer for him to arrive at the destination. A modest, hand-painted sign was the first thing that caught his attention, followed by the wrought iron fencing that enclosed the outdoor seating. Well...to Malok the fencing was barely as high as his knee, so he stepped over it and ducked inside.

And if heaven was an aroma, this would be it.

A sweet symphony of flavors sang into his nostrils, causing him to grin ever so slightly. He hadn't smelled anything this delicious in awhile - especially since he had failed to renew his StarCaf card. Fortunately, despite the amazing smell, the cafe did not seem to be all that busy at the moment. In fact, two people stood before him in line. The first was a Givin who...seemed to be making one helluva complex order. The other was a woman - tall, chocolate, dressed exceptionally well. A Human too. Given the Givin's choice to yammer on his order, at least Malok had the opportunity to say "hello" to someone who could understand. "Good morning ma'am." he began, giving a nod. "How are you today?"

And with that, [member="Ajira Cardei"] was given a lovely grin.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Malok"]

Certain large and civilized species tended to err on the side of friendliness and politesse, so as to offset their intimidating appearance. Herglics could get like that, and the occasional Whiphid. As Ajira took stock of the seven-foot simian who'd greeted her in the queue, she decided that he might belong to a subset of that category: beings who used that pattern of politeness to be as cheerfully intimidating as they liked. The grin was the usual method.

"I'm doing well, thank you," she said. She'd been quite content to continue her private train of thought, but prudence and a five-hundred-pound ape demanded her sole focus. "Thirsty."

Her eyes flicked sideways to indicate the lugubrious Givin.

 

[Andor Callro 457]

The stormtrooper nodded, to the Galactic Alliance guards, "Alrighty then," The stormtrooper said pleasantly enough, "You lead and I'll follow." He said, following the lead of Jorg and his compatriots. The spy was attired in an innocuous enough set of attire. A dirty brown duster, with a hood and a wide brimmed hat to top it all off. Andor wore a leather, homemade bandoleer on his belt. It was sparesly populated, though there were two cartridges for it and a dark brown holster for his pistol. Slung over his shoulder was an olive coloured duffle bag. Underneath it all, Andor wore a white shirt, and a pair of torn up trousers.

Eyeing the guards, Andor decided some small talk would help, "So, uh, this place is interesting,isn't it?" He started, "Is this like, a usual thing?" he asked, "I mean, with the whole weird atmosphere stuff." He added shortly afterwards, correcting himself. "I've never seen stuff like this before," The stormtrooper added. That was true, but he needed to keep in character. "And does it change things for people like you? Like folks being posted here long term?" Andor asked, "Cos, from space at the least, it looks real freaky." he paused, realising he was probably coming off as a little too eager, "Sorry if I'm like bothering you or anything."

[member="Jorg"] | [member="Aeron Kreelan"]

 

[Subject 37]

[member="Andor Callro 457"] | [member="Aeron Kreelan"]

Jorg wasn't much of a conversationalist with his friends. The longest talk he'd ever carried on had been with a rather cute freighter Captain who had brought him and his men to Alliance space. Even that conversation had been rather forced, mostly because he'd tried to seem as innocent and...normal as possible. Ten years serving as a Stormtrooper in the One Sith generally tended to leave it's mark, and he had wanted to make a good impression on her.

"I don't know." That was actually an honest answer.

Jorg wasn't usually stationed here on Yag'Dhul. The 5th Legion had come here as part of a Simple Escort duty. This world was run by Omega Pyre, and his own place here was tentative at best. The Legion was a part of the Alliance, a military branch set apart from the GADF that operated within a sort of...gray area of Alliance society. That suited him just fine, though in times like this it often lead to confusion about just what his role was.

"You can ask the Security forces when we hand you over." He told the boy. "I'm sure they'd be happy to answer your questions."

The small group turned a corner, Jorg spotting a group of Security Officers on approach.

 

[Andor Callro 457]

"You're not the talkative type, are you?" Andor mused, he was actually somewhat disappointed with that. He'd expected the Alliance to be, well, a little more, friendly? No, no, unprofessional. That was the word. For Andor, he'd always held the idea, that this Galactic Alliance, this alignment of supposedly peaceful systems would be incompetent. And dare he say it, chatty. Nonetheless, he continued to plod along, bag on his shoulder. Karking hell, this was boring. He looked up at the security officials, and sighed. From one group to another.

Andor approached the group, with a tired smile on his face. He raised one hand in greeting, "Ello," he said, "I take it you're all here to make sure I don't try to murder and assimilate people?" he asked with a wry grin, "How long is this vetting supposed to take anyways? I was hoping to go, and get some drinking done."

[member="Jorg"] | [member="Aeron Kreelan"]

 

[Koshka Scalvez]

"DW, are we all settled in?"

"Beep-deet duh-reet!"

"Good. I shouldn't be gone for long, give or take xenophobic setbacks and, well, possible death, given the bounty."

Koshka departed the Zhanxi, his Lancer-Class Pursuit Craft. Outside his ship, he sallied forth towards the security checkpoint. He couldn't help but notice a group of soldiers escorting a minimally armed hobo through the spaceport proper. The man must have secretly been some sort threat to national security if they were more worried about him than a 6'11" Kalleran. Upon reaching the checkpoint, he waited his turn in line before he was scanned. They wouldn't find anything suspicious on him; he carried only the clothes on his back, credits and a water container sling to stay hydrated. He would, of course, accrue a large amount of stares and double takes.

[member="Jorg"] | [member="Andor Callro 457"] | [member="Aeron Kreelan"]

 

[Koshka Scalvez]

(Guess I'll keep going, then. 24 hours and all that. )

The security checkpoint wasn't anything out of the ordinary for Koshka. Naturally, the sight of his tall physique would likely lead to an interesting tale told by security guards off shift. Other than that, his admittance into the city was routine. Clearly, no one had enough cared enough about his unusual presence to detain him, just like they didn't care about the many other people in various states of armament coming to and from the spaceport...except for that one hobo guy with a light blaster pistol. Koshka's antennae were still twitching in confusion as he passively mulled over why that depressing man was of military concern, but not local spaceport security concern.

The first key to his bounty hunt's success was to turn these credits of his into supplies. He didn't need much, though, so he doubted that he'd have a run in with local law enforcement. He simply needed a sleep pack or three. He also needed to stop by a tech shop, buy a new datapad and configure it to have the bounty info and his bounty hunting association account present. Carrying a limp body back into an airport was likely going to derail his bounty progress...

He grabbed the next shuttle to the entertainment district. His contact was supposed to be available to meet up at a local comic book shop.

 

[Darth Metus]

"I can see why." came the Behemoth's response. "The Destinations app highly recommends this cafe's spiced caf."

The "typical tourist" side of Malok was beginning to show here, as evidenced by saying something [member="Ajira Cardei"] probably knew already. Casting a glance over to the Givin before them, it seemed minimal progress was being made with his order. In fact, a second barista had stepped over - most likely in the hopes of resolving whatever was going down quicker.

"Do you...come here often? Or just passing through like me?" came his "might as well kill time" inquiry. "Not meaning to pry! Of course."

 

[Eugen Aker]

By total coincidence, Suravi would arrive by passenger liner to Yag'Dul under disguise on business. Despite the heightened security in the Yag'Dul system, she was only minorly inconvenienced by additional checks and scans. She moved around freely through GA space with the legitimate credentials and biometrics of a Breanne Thatcher, an engineer from Coruscant. The real Breanne had been bagged, and was now stuck in some stasis field aboard one of Suravi's ships in deep space for safe keeping. She had then assumed her life after some memory extraction, slowly working her way to this point now.

Quite famished, she stopped by a cafe that came highly recommended on the Destinations travel app, Muli's, attracted by the proposition of some quality spiced beverages. She ordered a spiced chocolate with cream, and a nice big peanut butter cookie to go with it. When served her hot chocolate, she was pleased to discover an intricate leaflet design made through the top layer of cream.

As she made her way to an empty table, she could help but take notice of a rather large primate as she passed by, about as big as one of her Yinchorri soldiers. He looked to be totally at peace with his coffee in hand, but the way he carried himself suggested a martial background. She kept a straight face, but it was about the most amusing thing she had seen all week. It seemed everybody needed their fix.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Malok"] [member="Suravi Teigra"]

"The 'Destinations' review is the only reason I haven't already tried to find an alternative venue with a shorter line. Or, possibly, a second till."

Not without avarice, Ajira eyed a passing blonde's hot chocolate. Clearly she'd gotten her order in before the Givin started his. Speaking of which...

"Don't look now, but I think he's trying to teach calculus to the barista. I suppose there's a fine line between correcting someone's grammar and teaching them the language necessary to understand your order in the first place. But I hope Muli's gives hazard pay." She suppressed a smile - she'd said all of that deadpan. "Ajira Cardei. I'm just passing through, on a Naboo science ship."

 

[Eugen Aker]

"Here's why you can't exterminate us, aruetii. We're not huddled in one place—we span the galaxy. We need no lords or leaders—so you can't destroy our command. We can live without technology—so we can fight with our bare hands. We have no species or bloodline—so we can rebuild our ranks with others who want to join us. We're more than just a people or an army, aruetii. We're a culture. We're an idea. And you can't kill ideas—but we can certainly kill you." ~Mandalore the Destroyer

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=V7OdI-b61qg​

Yag'dhul, one of the great worlds of Omega Pyre, the backbone of the Galactic Alliance. As huge amounts of trade flowed through the planet, so did a bunch of military hardware to protect it all. Someone would have to think twice before taking on such a formidable fortress world.

Edith had thought about it a hundred times, through several shots of Vosh, and had finally settled on taking the job. The risk was huge, but then the rewards were even greater if she pulled it off on top of the payout she was to receive. Most of the new folks in her outfit no longer had a home thanks to someone karking up Mandalore, again. It seemed the old axiom about only Mandalorians being able to kill other Mandalorians right held true. They were hungry for nice things, and the Galactic Alliance had plenty of nice things to take. So they would.

From open space between the borders of First Order and Galactic Alliance space, her warband reverted right into the system in waves of microjumps. Hundreds of ships, dozens of corvettes and frigates back up by several wings worth of starfighters and gunships. Among the pack, YT-freighters back dumping Empion minds into the hyperlanes leading into the system. In almost no time, they began to trap incoming vessels as they ripped them from hyperspace, then disabled them with electromagnetic pulses and constant waves of ion energy. Great fields of derelict starships would begin to form in short time as countless vessels travelled through the major hub on the daily. The inevitable reinforcements that would jump into the battle would have to navigate through these hazards upon entry into the system, and risk collision even if ships had one of those nifty HIMS equipped. For added measure, barrels of nagnol gas were dump into these areas to severely restrict effective tracking to close knife-fighting visual range.

With the first phase done, the next would begin as the Mandalorians dispersed to target clusters of civilian traffic, hitting them with ion fire and pulsemag missiles. They clung close to the civie ships as they made their attack, to prevent the Alliance forces in system from bringing most weapon systems of a all those big ships and battle stations to bear of out of fear of fratricide and civilian casualties. At the moment, the ball was in their court to see how they would react to the great unthinkable raid brought to their doorstep.

[member="Ajira Cardei"] [member="Malok"] [member="Koshka Scalvez"] [member="Andor Callro 457"] [member="Jorg"] [member="Aeron Kreelan"]

((OOC Note: Before anyone has a heart attack, this character is not affiliated with the Aka'lit. This is a Tekkadan thing. If there are other Mandos that want to be part of my raiding parties, then PM me or contact me through discord.))

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Malok"]

Ajira's datapad buzzed gently against her thigh. Attention still on Malok, she pulled it out and glanced at the alert scrolling across its face. The glance turned into an impolite fixation. RNS Jubilee, the Naboo science vessel she currently commanded, had a powerful and comprehensive scanning suite. Right now its sensor operator was picking up a wave of small reversions - frigates, corvettes, starfighters, transports - in what appeared to be a combat footing. The mines gave that much away, just for starters. Ajira's eyes widened fractionally as she saw a note about the chemical composition of the gas being dispersed. Battlefield interference measures didn't come much more obscure than nagnol. Someone up there had been doing their research.

She took a moment to tap out a quick order. Elsewhere, she knew, quick little SIARC probes were rocketing up from the Jubilee's dispensers. The SIARCs' high-powered scanners had been designed to locate and assess threats inside heavy-cover regions, such as the two ultra-dense micronebulae of the Naboo system. Nagnol would be more of a challenge, but if anything could get a good solid idea of enemy movements in a nagnol cloud, it would be SIARC probes. The Jubilee would receive their data in real-time and transmit it to the orbital FLEETCOM station.

"Excuse me," she said to the gigantic primate. "It looks as though this system is under attack. I have to return to my ship." The Jubilee had the tonnage of a light frigate, and Yag'Dhul played host to far larger transports every day: the science ship was parked on a monstrous landing pad not too far away. "Nice to meet you. Hope you get a decent cup of caf before the day's out." About to turn and leave, she hesitated. "Do you have somewhere safe to go?"

 

[Sieb Tevv]

Third Fleet Command

"Priority message from Yag'dhul."

"Send it."

"Scattered reports of a planet wide assault. Attackers unknown. Hundreds of frigates and freighters."

The Admiral frowned. "Who do we have?"

"Task Force Moridena is on patrol near the border. They would have to reverse course."

"Moridena? Vice Admiral Tevv's command?"

"Yes, sir."

The Admiral frowned. Last time the brash Sullustan had been out on routine patrol was during the Sith Crisis on Atrisia. The Admiral did not like it, but he had no other options.

"Inform the Vice Admiral... he is to ready his Task Force for combat and move to the Yag'dhul system. If there are any threats he is to engage them according to the standard RoE." The Admiral steepled his fingers. "Stars, I hope this isn't another Atrisia."

 

[Darth Metus]

The system was under attack.

Great. Just great. Sure, the Behemoth had a decent chunk of credits burning a hole in his pocket, but his payout wasn't enough to make him immune to orbital bombardment. To make matters worse, his subordinates had taken their bucket of bolts off world on the hopes of seeing some cheaper upgrades installed. Malok had zero clue how long they would be away...and given the ship's shoddy hyperdrive, he could very well be dead by the time they showed up.

His nostrils flared as the woman, [member="Ajira Cardei"], hesitated before walking away. On one hand, the truth was plain and simple - he was cooked if ordnance began to fall. However, a small modicum of pride reared its head. It wasn't her problem and revealing one of ApeX's key shortcomings was never good for business. Nah. Malok squashed the pride underfoot real quick.

"If I'm being honest, no, I don't have anywhere safe to go. My men took our ship off world to see if some cheaper repairs could be made. I doubt they will return in time to save my hide."

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Malok"]

"My ship has room."

The efficiency calculus of her decision was fairly simple, in the end. She'd parked a sleek Naboo speeder just around the corner, but tension and an undercurrent of palpable unrest had started to colour the city's background noise. By personal connections, starship equipment, or perhaps even the news, word of the minutes-old assault was beginning to spread. Yag'Dhul had been attacked before, and a place with a FLEETCOM station generally had strong security and evacuation protocols. Even so, there remained a chance that people might panic, and if they did, it would be better to have a nine-foot simian as company than not. Anything could happen between here and her speeder.

Fortunately, anything didn't. In short order, she'd reached the vehicle, put it to its twenty-metre maximum altitude, and gunned it through the city for the Jubilee. On foot the trip would have taken perhaps half an hour; by speeder, they reached the Jubilee's hangar in forty-five seconds flat. The science vessel's civilian-grade shields had dropped to let her in. Now they snapped back to life with an audible hum.

"Report," she said as she exited the speeder.

A Naboo lieutenant gave Malok a double-take and refocused on Ajira. "The probes are having difficulty with the gas, ma'am, but we're seeing worthwhile data. FLEETCOM reports Task Force Moridena is inbound. The enemy forces are unidentified, but they're using the same tactics that a Sith movement used at Anaxes recently."

"Empion mines and civilian vessel hostages?"

"In quantity, ma'am. Shall we prepare to lift off?"

"Only on repulsors, in case we need to reposition quickly. We're not going to be any use in space, except as a convenient target." Ajira turned to Malok. "If you need to contact your associates, I can have the comm suite made available to you. If you're any good with a turret, we can find a berth for you."