Rise of the Imperials [First Order Dominion of Yalara and Effekt]

[RIP Carlyle Rausgeber]

Location: The Vindicator
Objective: Ready comms for the skirmish
Post:II

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Se-soVdlclQ

"What a thoroughly unpleasant pissant." Carlyle mused, "Goading us like that. Tell the gunners to pound his ship extra hard for that."

"Aye aye sir." the gunnery officer said, "We'll pound the arsehole."

Lieutenant Margs rolled his eyes, "The psychs must have a lot of fun around you." the lieutenant said with a dismissive eye roll, "Nonetheless Captain, I ask to be dismissed, the Pride needs an officer."

"You're dismissed Margs, do us proud out there." Carlyle said in a reassuring tone.

"Aye aye sir!" The lieutenant saluted, before briskly walking from the bridge.

The comms officer broke the silence, "Sir, the Grand Admiral has asked us to all align to his comm channel."

"Follow his command. Tell him that Captain Rausgeber of the Vindicator and Pride of Avalonia awaits his further direction in terms of strategy. Lieutenant Margs will act as the primary officer of the Pride for the duration of these exercises."

"Will do." the comms officer replied.

[member="William Kerkov"]

 

[William Kerkov Sr]

Objective: 2
Post III

The Grand Admiral waited until he had complete check in from all his captains. Once the CO of the Intrusive had reported he began to lay his strategy out for the rest of his fleet. Kerkov ordered the immediate disperse of the fleet, any ship above 200 meters in length will be within firing range of it's fellow Imperial ships. Ensure that any Noghri vessels that pass through our lines are decimated by combined fire power of the surrounding ships.

Next the scramble of all star fighter squadrons, and begin the baiting of their flagship and large ships deeper into the core of the fleet. From there, if the Noghri's are baited into the trap, fire tractor beams and lay down suppressive fire on the area of their fleet. Total destruction of their leadership and large vessels. Once the Noghri's go into disarray begin cracking down with individual one-on-one battles and clear their Naval presence in the area.

But first he would reply to Ungor, using his most monotone and commanding voice, "This is Grand Admiral Kerkov, leader of First Imperial Navy forces in the immediate system. I would hold your boasts of post-victory actions until we have finished the present situation at hand. I will give you one chance to surrender to our forces before your obliteration by our far superior Navy."

[member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] [member="Valessia Brentioch"]

 

[Cameron Centurion]

Daisya-class Infiltrator Shadow
Borleias System

Silver-green eyes gazed at the holographic image with quiet reserve. Once the deep voice on the other end had finished, Ashmedai responded dispassionately. "Nothing lasts forever, they may yet build the strength required to return anew. However, with the recent implosion of the One Sith as well, the galactic scene is rather well clear of...like-minded, would-be opponents."

"I have heard rumor of this. Understand, Lord Ashmedai, I may yet have need of assistance in the future. For now, I ask that you monitor their progress."

Ashmedai nodded his head slightly. "Very well. However, there is another matter."

The Supreme Leader did not so much as flinch. "Your are pushing the boundaries of your time, Ashmedai."

Ashmedai was not amused. "You can be patient Sieger. My assistance does not come free, and this initiative your forces have begun on Yalara... Let's just say I have an interest in the avoidance of Noghri slaughter. Their homeworld has already become subject to the delusions of the Silver Jedi." There was certainly a level of respect extended to a fellow government leader - though that description had faded once more from Cameron's own reality...and none too soon in his mind.

Sieger arched a curious brow for but a moment. "I suppose you remaining uninvolved is coupled with the remainder of your supposed requirement for compensation?"

Ashmedai raised his hands with a thin smile. "I am but one man. I pose very little threat to your massive armies and sweeping fleets."

Sieger Ren offered only a snort of derision. "I know what you would ask me. I shall consider it."

Ashmedai lowered his hands and nodded. "I will be in touch."

The connection immediately terminated before the Sith Lord continued his approach to his home on Borleias. Whether or not the Supreme Leader of the First Order followed through or not, was definitely not his concern. Asking was the extent of favors he owed the boy.

Spoiler

[member="Aram Kalast"]

 

[Caid Centurion]

Obj. 4
Post 1
Location: Halaban, Effekt
Allies: [member="Saki lin"] | [member="Miles Cormin"] | [member="Thresh Sken"]

The sounds of chattering birds drifted on the breeze in the cool morning air of Halaban. The moment he had descended the loading ramp, the internal workings of his mask displayed a series of readouts on atmospheric composition. These readouts were mostly redundant of course as a scan had been completed well in advance of actually entering the atmosphere.

Casually, Ciardha's metallic voice drifted forth to Sergeant Cormin, the Stormtrooper that had been reassigned to command the squad of Stormtroopers accompanying him on this mission. As Ciardha had promised during the operation in the Dead Nebula System, he had made it known that he desired the assistance of Cormin for the remainder of his operations. "Give me eyes at elevation down the main approach to the Palace, Sergeant. Have them vector the rest of your squad as necessary to cover our flanks."

From what records the First Order maintained on the planet, Effekt was part of a fledgling Empire - mostly one beholden to a family that had settled the system and not elected to extend any further. Scouts had not uncovered a great deal of commercial traffic over the planet, but that didn't necessarily mean anything. It appeared simply as if what legitimate society had once existed...had been reduced to relative shambles.

As a separate First Order Task Force had been dispatched to the planet of Yalara on another assignment, Ciardha had been tasked with identifying the fate of Effekt and attempting to bring them into the fold of the First Order. Given the past and traditions of the society, Ciardha held hope that he would not encounter too much resistance. Speaking to the rest of the team he'd selected, the Ren stepped forward. "Let's go."

 

[Saki lin]

Obj-4
Post 1
Halaban effect
Allies-[member="Caid Centurion"], [member="Miles Cormin"], [member="Thresh Sken"]
A nice cool breeze, birds singing as they flew by, and the sounds of a boarding ramp lo we ring diwn along with the sounds of footsteps with it as she followed behind her new master and teacher

She didn't know much about the place...however she knew only two practically some of the few that she would in this first order....oddly enough one that ordered her to be cuff and one that cuffed her

But this place while new held a beauty she could see she only hoped they didn't resist...sad to see beauty destroyed

She perked up and nodded" yes sir" she said as she followed him

 

[Visser Chernykh]

Objective 1
Post 3
[member="Avedia Lacroix"] | [member="Boo Chiyo"] | [member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Isla Ashen"] | [member="Valessia Brentioch"] | [member="Saki"] Iin

He studied the newcomer with evident suspicion. The Sith were to always be regarded as such. Their very code promoted glorification of the self. This was at fundamentally at odds with the goals of the First Order.

The Supreme Leader promoted unity. There couldn't be any of this with regional despots cropping up. These ruins stood as a mute testament to his feelings. Perhaps they were simply useful fools.

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

He followed behind the first to enter. Into the crypt itself where the floor seemed ready to crumble. The air itself felt stale and wrong. There was the feeling of death hanging there.

The Force itself seemed to crumble too. It was there and it wasn't at the same time. He reached out to it but it evaporated. The disciple began to feel a twinge of panic.

Mael stopped and reached again. He caught what amounted to a tendril. It was in his grasp for a second and it was gone. How is this possible!

He'd never been without the Force. Not even in the worst of times. Confusion filled him as he staggered forward. Despair threatened to totally engulf him.

 

[Isla Ashen]

Objective: 1
Post: 2
Allies:[member="Avedia Lacroix"] | [member="Boo Chiyo"] | [member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Skjold Alexeyev"] | [member="Valessia Brentioch"]

Isla nodded slightly to Veles, those that had been on Dromund Vatsu would surely draw from that experience to aid them here. Her eyes shifted down and to the side, viewing the smaller form of Boo Chiyo with curiosity. The young one wore a mask, his voice slightly muffled as it came from inside. Her gaze also found the strange creature wrapped around him, it was something that she had never seen before. However, this seemed not to be the appropriate time for pleasantries, for Miss Moxie was now leading the way.

The floor beneath her feet felt dry and fragile, as though it would crack to bits at any moment. And there were images before her eyes, memories that were not her own. This place, just like the tomb on Dromund Vatsu, had the distinct feeling that death was all around. As they continued on, Isla began to feel strange. For a short time, she was reminded of the days back home, when she had only an inkling of her force powers. It was only the tiniest sliver of a presence, just like it had been during the time when she had believed that she was only an ordinary farm girl. There was a stab of doubt, and the whispers of the past were still in her head, weaving her tales from the beyond.

At least this shadowed feeling was fleeting, and Isla felt her mind beginning to clear the fog when Miss Moxie motioned for them to stop. The sound of rumbling grew, and she could feel the ground beneath them begin to shake.

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Location: Maersk of Lanteeb
Objective 2: Space station development
Post: 3/20

Dunames was just a middlewoman in the First Order schemes. While she may have a rather wide berth in how to run the more dangerous of First Order's bread-and-circuses, that job wasn't about bread-and-circuses. Sienar-Jaemus Fleet Systems had some systems to deliver in another batch, from the Dead Nebula perhaps, but Dunames brought glory to the First Order in different fashions. She was a proponent of soft power, one of the things dark-sided factions seemed to lack. She needed not be reminded of the economic failures of past dark-sided factions: the Primeval failed because of poor supply chain management, the One Sith (and by extension the Sith Triumvirate) failed because of complete economic neglect, with the One Sith going so far as even letting enemy commanders own a piece of low-priority business in their territory. She was to tour the facility, she was to ensure the timely delivery of components and whatnot. But oops, was there to have enough supplies so that the prisoners could eat while working on the station?

"Oops, there are not enough consumables onboard to last the prisoners more than three days, captain" the station's commander told Dunames.

"Just ask and we will fetch them"

"Go get us some food and supplies from the Dead Nebula"

"With all due respect, the Dead Nebula has little food resources. Lipsec might be a better idea"

"Remind me to take some Noghri with you on the Lipstick Express"

 

[Sentiri]

Location: Moving deeper into the Yalara Dam's cave/tunnel system.
Objective: 3 - find out if there is anything worth finding.
Allies: [member="Rick Müller"], First Order Security Bureau
Neutrals: The oh-so-hospitable escorts Ghosmal and Zamassir
Enemies: Gnashers, preparedness
Post: 2

History had not been a subject that Sentiri ever had much interest studying. The dead were dead and they'd stay that way. Sentient beings would continue to make the same mistakes. They'd continue to have thoughts they believed to be original but weren't. Important details would be forgotten over generations and stories would change depend on the bias of the teller. In Sentiri's perspective, analyzing a situation as it presented itself was far more effective than constantly resorting to a manual filled with nothing but opinions. Historical fact was all that concerned her.

Klaus, her history teacher husband, had changed his wife's cynical mind for a time. But after more than three years apart, Sentiri's skepticism on history had returned in full.

But there were certain chunks of history that were impossible to ignore for any Chiss. The annals of her former culture were extensive and, generally, held accurate accounts despite the penchant for Chiss xenophobic and classist bias. One such historical recollection of importance to the education of all Chiss was the fall of Mitth'raw'nuruodo. The Ascendancy exiled the commander for acting outside of the interests of both the government and military bodies. But the stories continue to chronicle Thrawn's exploits as a Grand Admiral for the Empire, at least as closely as the Ascendancy was aware. Her Chiss educators always attempted to relay these tales as a warning for bad behavior or getting out of line with the Ascendancy. But Sentiri had always admired the commander for his ambition.

Of course, Sentiri was well enough familiar with how Thrawn's story ended: the knife of his own Noghri bodyguard. She felt no animosity towards the species, certainly not for the sake of Thrawn. The Chiss woman respected the military commander but she did not worship him. They were centuries removed from those proceedings after all. However, she respected the Noghri's skills enough to keep vigilant and scorned their pride enough to know that misguided ill will may yet remain over Thrawn's deception of the Noghri people.

She followed quietly behind their tour guides all the same. The two Noghri were just as quiet. The silence was fine by Sentiri, leaving more time to observe on her own. She occasionally glanced over at the Field Agent beside her. The two had yet to interact but she knew everyone in her department. Müller was reliable; the Deputy Director had no concern beyond that.

Her careful observations noted the tensing up of their taciturn guides. She didn't catch their mumblings and her first assumption was an attack against the Bureau agents. Sentiri's hand automatically moved to her blaster pistol when she noticed them sniffing at something. By the time the Noghri shouted their warning to the rest of the party, the pistol was drawn and steadied in two hands. She made out the beasts approaching and acted on instinct, without thought or emotion.

One hefty bolt split the skull of the gnasher approaching her left shoulder. The predators were too swift for her to target both before they were within striking range. So instead of turning to aim at the next target, she ducked, rolled, and leaped to the side towards a large pile of debris where she could take cover. Her back scraped along some detritus on the ground as she did but she managed to set herself against the stone heap and re-engage, taking aim once more.

[member="Valessia Brentioch"]​

 

[Darth Veles]

Objective 1
[member="Isla Ashen"] [member="Skjold Alexeyev"] [member="Valessia Brentioch"] [member="Avedia Lacroix"] [member="Boo Chiyo"]

Betrayed by the Force heralding their approach, the two sentients Veles had not met in the past immediately piqued the Sith Lord’s interest. Nothing reported danger more than their auras, speaking volumes of the power they wielded; purer, more refined than ordinary Ren operatives. Driven by curiosity, the amphibian’s bulbous orbs goggled over the two, studying their appearance. Definitely not Ren in terms of fashion – the Mon Cal bestowed a look of disgust upon the cursed Vong staff before fluidly turning the expression into a warm smile to greet the newcomers with.

“There’s no need for formalities, friend.” Veles resolutely dismissed the way he’d been addressed, leaning on his cane.

“Please, call me Avreet. Are you the new members?”

While the guide and the knights of Ren ventured forward, the Sith assassin took a long breath, fresh air filling his lungs before his booted feet paced after the group, a characteristic limp creeping its way into his walk. With little difficulty, the Darth defeated the makeshift path leading up to the entrance. Darkness and frowsty air breathed on him when his silhouette passed through the cavern’s stone mouth and stepped inside. Decaying sensation of evil floated around, brushing against his thoughts with memories never stored in his head. Mind calm and entrenched against outside influences that sometimes lived inside old tombs and temples, waiting for a suitable body to possess, Veles mentally prepared himself for the eventuality of more aggressive attacks.

These ancient stone walls, despite being made by Dark Jedi, made Avreet recall Korriban’s ever-present dangers even stronger. One webbed hand reached up to touch the stone that surrounded them, feeling its cool texture. Even though a Sith Lord, the amphibian felt like a freshly knighted Darth again. For once, the characteristic Sith pride present within the Mon Cal stopped burning so brightly, sneaked up on and replaced by humility that used to be one of his many noble qualities long ago. Nothing about the strange sensation appeared obviously wrong – little more than a nostalgic longing for the past, apparently.

Small stones occasionally produced a soft crunch under the Sith Lord’s boots, the sound much more prevalent when the cane’s tip impacted the floor. Others have made audibly more racket; the master assassin treaded with great care and distributed his weight just as he’s been taught by his teachers, automatically adjusting his pace to the material he walked upon without devoting it much thought.

 

[Davin Jusik]

Location: Moving deeper into the Yalara Dam's cave/tunnel system.
Objective: 3
Allies: [member="Sentiri"], First Order Security Bureau, Native guides
Enemies: Gnashers
Post: 2/20

The air had a much cleaner quality to it than many of the planets he'd visited. Barely a trace of industrialization to it, nature as it was meant to be. The guides seemed rather polite enough, one appeared moody but as long as it didn't go beyond that the guide could be as brooding as he liked. Amin had felt a strange calmness since the shuttle incident. Something the Knight of Ren onboard had claimed was force sensitivity.

The Agent had his doubts.

His senior walked before him, occasionally glancing back with intense red eyes. The Chiss had always been something of a fascination for Amin, with their brilliant minds and xenophobia. He hadn't had the pleasure of speaking with his superior, not really beyond the typical jargon speak of mission briefings. It was a bit of a amusing concept, not truly knowing one's comrade in arms was a strange thing. In the mind of a former soldier.

The guides' tensed as the beasts launched themselves at the party, Rick heard the ground behind him shift and he turned quickly, firing off a burst that caught the animal in the chest. Blood and guts sprayed about on the rocky ground in an elaborate fashion, taking on strange forms. The second beast was upon his before he could effectively shift to adjust an accurate shot on the thing and his next burst caught low, at the knee. Teeth tore his shirt, barely scrapping his chest as he brought a knife from his back and into the things throat, drawing the knife across the width of it in a smooth action. The rocks were further decorated. The Agent instinctively brought the knife back to it's sheath and leveled his weapon at the larger creature circling before firing a few more accurate bursts in succession. His chest dripped with blood and tattered cloth, eyes as wild as the things that were attacking the group.

@Valessia Brentioch

 

[Komo]

Location: Grand Moff's Star Destroyer above Yalara
Objective 2 - Noghri No Yield
Post (1)

[member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"]

Aboard one of the many Star Destroyers that lay among the First Order's flotilla of warships above Yalara's airspace, Greta began to keep watch as the rest of the crew hurried around in the hustle and bustle as the space portion of the war games was about to begin. The young officer had no doubts about it that the obligatory taunts and insults between the Noghri leader and Admiral Kerkov had begun. It was all part and parcel of battle, be it war games or not. She was fully dressed in her coal black TIE fighter flight suit with its equally iconic helmet under her arm. The rest of the TIE Fighter pilots were scrambling to get ready to deploy, but not her, nor any of the fighter pilots in her squadron.

The reason why? It was plainly simple.

They weren't just your ordinary run-of-the-mill TIE fighter pilots like the random joe that graduated from the academy. They were the best of the best the First Order had to offer, and to top it off, they consisted of elite hand-picked pilots by the Grand Moff herself. They were to operate under her personal direction, usually operating as her personal escort squadron whenever she travels anywhere. Although in war-time scenarios, the generosity and magnanimity of the Grand Moff herself may reassign the 100th Fighter Squadron to augment the combat duties of whoever she sees fit. Greta had often thought of how incredibly unselfish the Grand Moff was, and how unity within the First Order helped to gel the various members together. This rarely happened in the One Sith, and if it did, it was a rare occurrence simply by a select few. It was a whole new experience for her, and a somewhat more pleasant one. Greed was a thing of the past. Loyalty? Loyalty was always there if one deserved it. Unity, however was the in thing now.

So now she waited for her orders. May them come from her Commander or the Grand Moff herself.

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Location: Maersk of Lanteeb
Objective 2: Space station development
Post: 4/20

While the unloading of prisoners and materials was complete, the main gangway of the station was going to retract. Also, once the gangway retraction procedure got started, she would make sure that all the goods are accounted for, as well as all the prisoners, for the First Order won't take it kindly if Star Tours somehow is complicit in evasion attempts or even if it is unwittingly the medium for one. And also the battle droids - the First Order military didn't use battle droids, they would use organic soldiers. They saw the limitations of battle droids fairly quickly: any mass-produced droid had to be cost-effective to build and it often precludes the use of advanced droid brains. The CIS learned it the hard way at the onset of the Clone Wars: even B2 battle droids were equipped with only slightly improved autonomy, but on the whole they were much less efficient than organic soldiers. Noghri won't take it kindly but Dunames would take it that some of them would want to enter the Lipstick Express bound for Lipsec, where they are to collect additional supplies and additional equipment for the space station in orbit.

"All security droids accounted for"

"Roger, we'll head for the surface. I'll go collect these Noghri and then go to Effekt, and finally back to Lipsec"

"What business do you have on Effekt?"

"Star Tours doesn't travel on Effekt yet; we must not come to Effekt with hostile intentions. The Maersk of Lanteeb is homeported on Lanteeb, and hence flies the First Order's flag"

"Undocking sequence complete"

 

[Wolf]

Objective 1
Post 1
[member="Avedia Lacroix"] | [member="Boo Chiyo"] | [member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Skjold Alexeyev"] | [member="Valessia Brentioch"] | [member="Isla Ashen"]

The stench of death is a particularly distinct one, and one instantly identifiable even if never experienced before. However Wolfgang Krieger had indeed smelled it many times before, though never with this intensity. His prior life as a soldier had made him acquainted with death, both of friend and foe. Though there was something about the air that made the smell particularly unpleasant, and it was the very real feeling of evil. And this feeling was signified by a twisting in Wolf's stomach, his hairs standing on end as he carefully walked through the cavern with the others.

This was his first outing with the Knights of Ren, after leaving the One Sith and joining the First Order. He had spent some years serving as a soldier in the Sith military, and then, after his Force sensitivity had been discovered, spent a brief and uneventful time with the One Sith as a lowly acolyte. Wolf had once believed they were the true successors to the Galactic Empire, and able to enforce the order and discipline around the galaxy that he so desired. Though as the great galactic structure the One Sith had created began to creak and shudder, Wolf feared the selfishness of many Sith would ultimately be their undoing, many, though not all, working for themselves rather than the greater Sith cause. And the sad part was, this selfishness was entirely compatible, even encouraged, by Sith philosophy. During this Wolf heard whispers from the outer regions of the galaxy, whispers of a new organisation taking shape, one that would truly strive to be the successor of Palpatine's Galactic Empire, where all worked towards one goal, a purer form of the Imperial ideal that Wolf had missed. With the loss of Coruscant seemingly dealing the death blow to the One Sith, Wolf's fears were confirmed, and he left the Sith Academy and made his way to the outer regions to seek out the First Order, and pledge his allegiance to the Supreme Leader.

And now here he was, a neophyte among the Knights of Ren. Masterless, he hoped to prove himself among his peers and gain the respect of those more skilled and experienced than him, and perhaps even an offer of apprenticeship. He continued to walk warily through the cavern, his feet feeling the ground underneath him crack and turn. Wolf was not adept in the Force, bearing only some small proficiency in telekinesis, but even he stopped for a moment as he felt his connection to the Force wane, or at least appear to wane. The weak relationship he did have with the Force seemed to have completely vanished, and he noticed with interest as one of his peers staggered forward as if he had been gravely wounded. Wolf was not so badly affected, because he was not as reliant on and in tune with the Force as others were, though that was probably a bad thing. For much of his life, before he had any inkling he had Force potential, Wolf had preferred to sort things out the old fashioned way, and as he walked through the cavern he rested his hand on the hilt of his vibrosword to reassure him.

Wolf was certainly in interesting company. As he walked, he stared for a few moments at the boy, at least, what appeared to be a boy, with a serpentine creature coiled around him. The less questions, the better. Wolf's eyes quickly moved away, looking instead to the Mon Calamari Sith Lord who lead them. Though the presence of a Sith may have offended some of the other Knights, it was a reassurance to Wolf to have another former One Sith member with them. Wolf hoped that other more collectivist-minded Sith would also see the First Order as being the true successor of the glorious Galactic Empire that had reigned so many years ago, and be drawn to it. As for now, Wolf could only concentrate on the task at hand as they tracked down their guide's dead grandmother, and the valuable information she could have left behind that could lead them to the holocron of the powerful Dark Jedi Tavion Axmis.

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

Objective 2
Post 1
Location: 100th Fighter Squadron Ready Room
[member="Valessia Brentioch"] | [member="Pierce Fortan III"] | [member="Nils Brenner"] | [member="Greta Kohler"] | [member="Ishana Pavanos"]

Starfighter Corps Captain and commander of the Grand Moff's personal guard TIE squadron, Roderik von Brinkerhoff, stood behind a podium which housed the controls for the overhead holographic briefing display. Any minute now the on-duty flight watch officer would announce over the vast Star Destroyer's intercom system, 'All pilots assigned to the 100th Fighter Squadron report to the ready room immediately. All other personnel assume pre-flight inspection posts.'

Roderik knew it was short order after that, when everyone would pile in. Seated up front, nearest to the briefing display, would be the flight leaders. They were all of them gifted pilots, but the captain could not help but still feel anxious. It was too soon to put them all together in combat - simulated or not - against a talented and dangerous adversary - let alone with the Grand Moff's reputation at stake. Not that failure on the part of the 100th would in any way shadow [member="Natasi Fortan"] beyond a slight embarrassment, but rather, failure would spill certain doom for Roderik career ambitions.

"None of them want to lose this one, either." he reassured himself. The squadron was hand-picked, ostensibly by the Grand Moff, but personally by Roderik over the course of many sleepless nights spent skimming pilot dossiers and ratings from previous assignments. The net result was a squadron bristling with raw talent and potential, with enough experience to know how to use that talent and harness that potential.

They would become the greatest squadron in the First Order, and they would take that title by force.

 

[Zak Dymo]

Post 2 of 20
Objective 1: Keep an eye on the Darth
Frenemies: [member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Skjold Alexeyev"] | [member="Isla Ashen"] | [member="Wolf"]
Gear: Primeval Light Infantry Armor | Warden Cloak | SE-44C Blaster Pistol | Amphistaff (Azi)

Friend?

The Sith had many things. Friends were not to be counted among their number.

If he had to guess, Darth Cuttlefish had come to the Order during the period when the Pantoran had been away to Rhen Var, recuperating from his duel with the Jedi on Lanteeb. Neither may have been new, but they'd managed to avoid each other up to this point. "No," the boy answered, when asked if he was new. A simple reply, one that betrayed no singular emotion.

The journey inside the mouth of the cave was refreshing. This was starting to feel more like the wild places he had voyaged in his time as a member of the Primeval Bleeding Sun. Dagobah. Sernpidal. The Chiloon Rift.

The serpentine head of the Yuuzhan Vong biot rose up from where it had been dozing against his shoulder. Something had piqued the creature's curiosity, or else it merely picked up onto the subtle clues from its master's own body language. This place was rank with death, decay, and power of auld.

It was the kind of breathless wonder that, in an instead, reminded you of the terror of your own mortality... even as it beckoned you further in.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Objective 2
Post 1

Lieutenant Fortan -- Lieutenant Fortan the THIRD, thank you -- popped the hatch of his fighter open, craning his neck as he heard an announcement over the loudspeaker. "Why do they give us radios if they won't use them?" He rolled his eyes and climbed out of the TIE, leveraging his upper-body strength to haul himself up, then hopped over onto his wing, tottering absurdly on the thin edge for a few moments before toppling over. "Wotcher, Novari!" he shouted as he careened onto the deckplates, nearly landing on top of [member="Daxin Novari"] but instead landing with a thud on the deckplates next to his fighter. He grunted a rather undignified, un-Fortan grunt, swore a little and stood.

The important thing was his cigarette was still lit and between his lips.

"Not a word about ladders, Novari, or I'll bleach your silly little cap." He glared at the bizarre little hat on Novari's head as he stood up, rubbing his slender backside. "But -- ah -- go ahead and get my ladder, would you kindly? Good man." He winked, touched his nose with the tip of his index finger, and hustled off towards the ready room, shrugging into his uniform jacket on the way. He had a moment to smooth his beautiful black hair back before stepping through the door. He approached [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"]. "Are we finally going to do something?" he asked. "I swear to God, I've maintained my TIE fighter to the point it may well explode the moment I switch it on." He stubbed his cigarette out in a nearby ashtray and flicked the bud into trash can two meters away.

"Look at that -- missed my calling as a Huttball champion. Imagine me rich and surrounded by beautiful women instead of so good looking and surrounded by beautiful women." He looked around and frowned. "Or... empty chairs."

 

[Daxin Novari]

Objective 2
Post 2 (1 as [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"])

Senior Technician, in his mind, senior senior technician, Daxin Novari was awkwardly cradling an open case of hydrospanners in his arms, each one collected from the individual TIE Fighter repair crews upon the completion of their maintenance checks. He clumsily walked towards the hangar bay supply cache and passed by one of the docked TIE Fighters just in time to hear a warning from above, one that sounded seriously like Lieutena-

Daxin didn't have time to finish the thought before [member="Pierce Fortan III"] crashed down beside him, causing Daxin to involuntarily hurl - quite literally hurl, the case of hydrospanners out of his arms, his hands continuing up to shield his face from the inevitable crash of the Lieutenant onto him, which never came.

Only the crash of the Lieutenant, and then the crash and clatter of a dozen hydrospanners clinging off the deckplates in scattering directions.

With Daxin frozen in horror until a hand reflexively reached up to cover the uniform hat atop his head, as if to shield it from the threatened affects of bleach.

"Right away sir."

 

[Darth Ayra]

2/20

Objective I

| [member="Wolf"] | [member="Boo Chiyo"] | [member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Skjold Alexeyev"] | [member="Valessia Brentioch"] | [member="Isla Ashen"] |

Avedia walked just behind the bulbous Mon Calamari, who had introduced himself as Avreet. Keep her gaze away from the other people that formed their group, the Sith Lord decided that silence was her weapon. Better for questions by asked by others, or to answer them when they were sent her way. She did not want to invite attention that she did not want. It was a method of patience that some lacked.

But she had been well trained.

 

[Visser Chernykh]

Objective I
Post IV
[member="Avedia Lacroix"] | [member="Wolf"] | [member="Boo Chiyo"] | [member="Saki lin"] | [member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Isla Ashen"] | [member="Valessia Brentioch"]

Memories began to assail him. Awareness of sensation and feelings not his own. He was Desann as much as he was himself. The Chistori who had forsaken the Light for the glorious power of the Dark Side:

There was such power ready to be taken. It suited his nature far more than Luke Skywalker's praxeum ever had. Jedi were all weak fools ready to kneel. This clashed with an upbringing on a world which was fiercely independent.

So the Empire Reborn had been too tempting to pass up. It appealed to his pride and fueled his lust for personal glory. Events of Desann's life flashed before his eyes. He saw with eyes not his own.

He saw the man he knew to be Kyle Katarn. He heard his voice as they traded insults. This would be the final duel but he couldn't know he'd fail. Katarn wasn't even a proper Jedi!

Red saber clashed with blue as they dueled. He smelled the ozone and heard the crash. Hurling his weapon like a boomerang when Katarn was too far out of range. Hammering him with his great strength when he was close.

It was not enough though he did everything he was able. The Force was not with him but the puny human. He felt the searing heat as the azure beam penetrated his scaly flesh. The shock was so great he didn't realize it was fatal at first....