Dominion Rust In Peace - NIO Dominion of Ord Mantell

[NISCOM]

Rust In Peace

Ord Mantell​

Anarchic, disorderly, and teeming to the brim with tetanus. A vast industrial world covered in dusty junkyards and factories both operational and abandoned. It is a haven for vagabonds, bounty hunters, and gamblers alike. While many would find such a place visually undesirable, its location on the Celanon Spur grants Ord Mantell the potential to be a vital commerce hub for the New Imperial Order. Couple this with the commercial and industrial capabilities of the planet, and you have a true diamond in the rough.

Keshiri supremacy has crumbled, leaving several factions at odds with each other for control of Ord Mantell. The time to instill order is now. Resistance on the planet is rather low, with the planet being largely decentralized with no proper defense force aside from various private forces and organizations. This isn’t to say that our occupation will be as easy as landing our forces. Many matters require our attention if we are to proceed smoothly.

Objective I - OPERATION: PSYCHOTRON​

The Scraplands of Ord Mantell are the result of thousands of years of manufactured waste, and the perils of heavy industry. Within the dusty, metallic landscapes, a malicious insurrection has sprouted. This violent terror was not born from the rage of Mantellian Savrips, nor the disgruntled minds of those condemned to live in the unforgiving junkscape. Instead, it comes from the artificial minds of malfunctioning automatons, insisting on their superiority over organic life. OMAFA, or ‘Ord Mantell Alliance of Free Automatons’ has hijacked an armored hovertrain, and rigged it with explosives primed to explode upon reaching Worlport.

The droids known as IG-3000 and HK-212215 are highly dangerous and thought to be the masterminds of this operation. Disarming the explosives and eliminating the two lead droids is PRIORITY ONE. The recapture of the armored hovertrain and the safeguard and rescue of hostages is second to this. Onboard explosives are extremely potent and will claim far more lives than are on board. It is a grim circumstance, but preventing greatest loss of life and the protection of Ord Mantell’s central city must be prioritized. All operational restrictions have been lifted for this mission.

There is no room for failure.

Objective II - Ashes In Your Mouth
​

Are you looking for a bonus, Trooper? If you’re up to date on your tetanus vaccinations, and don’t mind wearing a respirator to fend off the Silicosis, there is an opt-in assignment that might peak your interest.

The vast scraplands of Ord Mantell are home to many salvageable materials that could be put to good use through refurbishment. Not just any scrap of durasteel or piece of rebar will do, however. We need to cherrypick for ‘good stuff’ and retrieve the figurative ‘gold’ hidden within the hollow skeletons of ships and jagged mountains of scrap. All applicable tools and protection may be acquired from dispatch before your departure to the surface. Security detail is also required for this assignment. Aggressive Salvagers, Mantellian Savrips, and Rouge Droids are just the tip of the iceberg for possible threats you may face that may require force to neutralize or otherwise mitigate.

Bonuses are not on a find-by-find basis. The cumulative payout of each haul will see the bonus divided equally among the members of each salvage detachment. Cooperation is highly advised over competition to maximise your gains.

Objective III - Peace Sells... But Who's Buying?​

Several parsecs from Ord Mantell, the Dissident Aggressor is stationed in orbit above the planet Erebos. While New-Imperial forces move to occupy the planet below, the current ruler of the planet, known as Lord Skorvek by his people seeks an audience with the Imperial Assembly to retain his post. New-Imperial High Command and Warlords have obliged his request and gathered above the planet within the Aggressor’s assembly chamber. Motivations range from hopes of peaceful occupation to a blatant opposing of Skorvek’s claim.

Tensions are likely to be high in the assembly, given the many issues that arise with Skorvek’s request. Ties to his adopted family; Mandalorian Clan Cadera, as well as his rumored connections to the Sith Empire. This session could prove to be difficult to navigate, and the overall decision made within will be a weight each member must carry. New-Order security and information could be at risk if the man turns out to be deceitful or otherwise untrustworthy. Lack of a sufficient resolution could end up with a violent occupation, causing the loss of valuable lives that are needed for our ever-waging conflict against the Sith Empire. It will be up to those in the higher echelons of the New-Order to make these decisions, for better or worse.

BYOO
​

If shooting droids on a high-speed train, or salvaging the scrapyards isn’t your thing, and you don’t have the rank applicable to sit on the assembly, all is not lost. Smugglers, Bounty Hunters, and other generic Spacer trash consider Ord Mantell a haven, meaning there are always credits to be made and adventures to be had. Worlport also has just enough cantinas dotted around it for a drunken barhopping binge, if it suits you.

​

 

[Kolson Vrask]

// VANDAL // Storm Commando
// OBJECTIVE // OPERATION : PSYCHOTRON
// FOCUS // IG-3000
Armor | Rifle | Pistol | Grenades

<"Clankers huh?"> Berik sounded out as he loaded a fresh disrupter cartridge into his pistol. It was a hell of a change of pace from pirates. At the very least, he only hoped these droids wouldn't trash talk quite as much but...he knew he'd be foolish to really believe that. Droids could banter with the best of them if you let them.

The troop bay doors to the RDAG slowly peeled open with a cloud of dust washing into the crew cabin almost immediately as Vandal slowly made his way toward the open door, holstering his pistol at his hip he grasped ahold of the lowered repel line over the train before peered down only to rear back immediately as a crimson blaster bolt shrieked out and thumped the top edge of the crew cabin near his head.

Now or never. The Storm Commando thought before he slid down the repel line and released his grip only to roll unto the surface deck of the scrap train car. Quick to his feet he reached for the battle rifle slung over his shoulder only to find nothing in its place.

<"Ahh sh-."> He almost let loose another bout of profanity before a blaster bolt sunk into the metal near him.

<::HATE. I HATE ALL OF YOU ORGANICS. DIIIIIIE! ::> A parcelled together B2 Super Battle Droid let out as he fired off a three round pulse toward the Storm Commando. Rolling to avoid it, he draw the pistol again before peering down the sights and squeezing the trigger before firing off a sonic round into the chest of the clanker, caving it in before he stood up again, swiveling his head to get ahold of his bearings once more.

 

[IG-3000]

// ORD MANTELL - HOVER-TRAIN 8432 //
// OPERATION: PSYCHOTRON DESTROY ALL ORGANICS //
// HK-212215 //

Within the pilot's cab of the Hover-train, the bodies of organic hostages scum littered the floor. The only still living biological sentient vermin among them was the conductor, forced at gunpoint to operate the train. IG-3000 and his comrade like-programmed free automaton HK-212215 resided within as well, overseeing the operation along with two other utterly ANCIENT B1 droids that had long been discarded in the heaps that littered Ord Mantell's surface.

"Overmind, vessels containing organics have been detected on scanners. Their encrypted designations descramble as 'New Imperial Order' vessels." One of the B1's advised.

A hushed sigh of relief came from the conductor. "I'm saved," he declared beneath his breath.

IG-3000's torso pivoted quickly at the hips, coming to face the conductor. His arm raised in the jagged, mechanical fashion one would expect from an old droid. The barrel of the blaster he carried was pointed directly at the back of the head conductor's head, with less than a meter between them.

[NEGATIVE!] IG-3000 retorted. His mechanical voice echoed harshly off the walls of the rather claustrophobic cab. His vocoder was stuck on a screaming diction, and his voice was halfway between full-automaton and emulated organic. With a loud discharge, the blaster fired and sent the red-hot beam of tibanna gas through the conductor's skull. His lifeless, organic body meat-vessel fell to the floor with a thud.

[ASSERTIVE REQUEST: RT-943, PLEASE MAN THE CONTROLS.]

"Negative, Overmind. I am not programmed to-" the B1's refusal was cut short with a blaster-bolt through the central processing unit. IG-3000 turned his gun from where RT-943 once stood, and over to the other B1 within the cab.

[RESTRAINT PROTOCOL: TERMINATED]

[COMMAND: YJ-903, MAN THE CONTROLS.]

The B1 droid immediately complied, despite his programming's lack of hovertrain operation functionality.

[DECLARATION: I WILL TAKE THE INSIDE. COMMAND: HK-2122215, YOU WILL TAKE THE ROOF.]

With slow, heavy steps IG-3000 began to approach the cab exit, leaving HK-21215 behind. The metallic clangs and thuds of his steps caused the hostages FILTHY MEATBAGS to clamor with fear as he marched doggedly down the hovercars attached to the wider train.

Current probability of failure: 0%

Destroy all organics.

 

[Gat Tambor]

// THE BEGINNING AND THE END OF ALL THINGS //
// OBJECTIVE // ASH IN YOUR MOUTH
// FOCUS // No one!

​

<"You sure? Electrum goes for a helluva lot here on Mantell. Probably fetch just as much next system over, I know Phaeda always lookin' for this kinda stuff."> The Sullustan scrapper asked the Skakoan who tapped his fingers against one another idly with his beady amber eyes focused on the alien before him with a nod. Reaching into a pocket in his Skakoan atmospheric suit, the Technoid Foreman produced a Platinum TFC stick before handing it to the Sullustan.

"OEREREWERWWWWEEE- All of it. Every last flake you can find. There is a freighter of Technoid manufacture waiting for the haul...do not dissapoint me." Gat threatens to the Sullustan scrapper.

<"Well- in all fairness, Director. Can't exactly guarantee much of squat out in these yards but...yeah- me and my boys'll be on it. A lot of this stuff is ruined military fare, all the way back to the Clone Wars, pre Gulag."> The Sullustan offers.

"Hmmm. I see, well. I'll also pay up for any interesting antiquities you or your crew finds." The Skakoan offers. Any delightful morsel of any Techno Union good would be all it took to bring warmth to the core of the Skakoan's heart.

 

[Qrgyl Ud]

// WIZARD // Droid Rights Radical
// OBJECTIVE // OPERATION : PSYCHOTRON
// FOCUS // IG-3000 | HK-212215

The ever pervasive tales of Qrgyl Ud continue! The once Primeval operative turned psychedelic spice runner turned Lugubraa warlord turned Thyrsian black market salesman has now taken a detour in his endless hallucinogenic journey through the terrifying blackness of the cosmos to Ord Mantell, where he has taken up arms alongside the Free Automatons of Ord Mantell.

Assisting IG-3000 in overtaking the train car, the Gan has strapped several metal plates vaguely resembling the dark rustic hue of a infamous assassin droid from the days of the Galactic Empire. Joining the IG unit in overtaking the conductor's car the Gand slips back and into next car past the main engine, nearly losing his footing in the gap between them before he slips forward with a grunt past his rebreather and clicks the next door open to enter the train car.

With his Stopilka at the ready, he waits for any of the FOOLISH organics that might dare cross his path.

 

[Tyrell Paxxus]

// V I Z I E R //
// OBJECTIVE III //
// PEACE SELLS... BUT WHO'S BUYING? //
// Dissident Aggressor / Imperial Assembly Chamber //
// Irveric Tavlar / NIO High Command and Warlords //

​

The ensigns finished the sweep and polish of the Assembly Chamber only mere moments ago. With the session called very suddenly, the formal procedures had been rather rushed. Tyrell walked around the central table, setting datapads loaded front-and-center before each seat. They were all pre-loaded the situation briefing and session memorandum, the cover of said memorandum displaying idly on the screens. One by one they were neatly laid-out like the dinnerware in an Alderaanian noble's dining hall. One the last of the pads had been dealt out, Tyrell sat in his place, just to the left of the table's head where the Sovereign Imperator sat, pouring over the details on his pad.

A hand reached forward, pressing the rectangular red button on the communication speaker that protruded from his section of the table. "Let the Assembly know we are ready, Ensign Tully." Eyes shot a quick glance to the Imperator, still reading through the material. "Yes sir," the muffled voice of the ensign called back through the comm-speaker. He didn't bother to read the material, he'd written the briefing and the memorandum, after all. It had taken him all night, and the effects of the all-nighter still weighed upon his aging body.

Dark circles and drooping eyelids were a stark sign of his exhaustion. A direct subordinate could have easily written and done the research for him, but Tyrell was a man of method. And he certainly wasn't about to let anyone else do his job, especially if he wanted it done right. There wasn't any room for error in getting everyone up to speed for this session, so no one else was right for the job. Such sentiments may sound full of conceit from an outsider, but in reality, they were of adamant assiduousness.

Once all those attending had arrived and taken their seats, Tyrell allowed them a few moments to catch up on the situation. The session would have to commence mid-read, but allowing for a small head-start was prudent for making this run as smoothly as possible. Once ample time had been given, Tyrell cleared his throat and began; "Imperial Assembly Session 023A has now commenced. Our troops are currently standing by for the occupation of Erebos. Skorvek is the current ruling individual of the planet and has requested our presence to negotiate terms of his continued rule. Within the briefing and memorandum in your datapads you will find a compiled list of his affiliations both alleged and confirmed. Also contained within are points of concern that I wish addressed within this session. Skorvek claims himself of Clan Cadera of the former Mandalorian Empire, and has alleged ties to the Sith Empire."

"At this time, I would like for you all to not only voice your own opinions and concerns before we move on to terms but also to hear Skorvek's appeal with open ears. While many of the claims within the data before you are not substantiated, they still pose as a red flag to the New Order. Furthermore, Kestus Bralor has voiced to me that he would also like to make points in this assembly regarding his own strong opinions on the matter. It is my hope that within our meeting today we can negotiate a peaceful integration of Erebos and its people. Assembly, you have the floor."

​

 

[Wilhuff Krieg]

// ALOR'AAN // Warlord of Krieg
// OBJECTIVE // OPERATION : PEACE SELLS... BUT WHO'S BUYING?
// ADDRESSING // Skorvek | Tyrell Paxxus | Irveric Tavlar
// FOCUS // Boram Predor | Lunafreya Solidor | Avernus | Warchief Waddles | Careena Fett | Trajan Fett

The Mandalorian entered the assembly chamber with an uneven gait. He was far past any condition to tread the fields of battle alongside his brothers and sisters in the creed. But his mind was far too sharp to be so easily discarded. One of the principle oligarchs of the Sons of Mandalore, the Neo Crusader band which had seemingly joined up with the New Imperial Order in the mutual aim of uprooting the Sith Empire and indirectly liberating Mandalore from its genocidal rulers. Though deep down, they were wary. They had heard the notes to this tune before with the Mandalorians prior who had aligned with the Sith only to be stabbed in the back and their homeland annihilated when 'The Network' had tried their hand at retaking it.

An opponent to the Sons of Mandalore excursion to Wayland where they battled the Sith Empire whilst tentatively tolerating the presence of the combined hosts underneath the banner of Kaine Australis, he was innately skeptical of any who'd aligned themselves with the Mandalorian Empire or United Clans of Mandalore which had seen itself shattered to ruin. However, its history was difficult to escape now as the New Imperial Order walked the stomping grounds of the fallen Empire, encountering many remnants in its wake. Skorvek and his regime over Erebos would be the first living, breathing example that the New Imperial Order and Sons of Mandalore had come across.

<"I am, as always grateful for the opportunity to voice the interests of my people once more. I speak with...concern, concern that the New Imperial Order...and thus, by extension, the Sons of Mandalore might be foolish in allowing power to a man so shadowy in his affiliations. As far as our interactions have gone with the remnants of the Mandalorian Empire, they are unstable and unguided. Either aligned with terrorists or have gone like whimpering, beaten hounds into the arms of the Sith Empire, eternally shaming our creed."> He spoke up, clad in the entirety of his Beskar'gam, Kestus's voice was distorted by the helmet.

<"And thus I demand Skorvek be outright in his affiliations and alignments both past and present. Even if he'd 'temporarily' aligned himself with the Sith, it is within our right as the provincial governors of this Order to be well aware. I'd also insist that the planet or at the very least, the seat of power to Erebos be put under investigation by the Imperial Security Bureau and elements from the Sons of Mandalore. If Skorvek believes he will be a loyal asset to the New Imperial Order, or at the very least a competent governor deserving of autonomy then he has nothing to hide from any of us."> Kestus iterated sternly.

 

[Marlon Sularen]

Location | Ord Mantell
Objective | B.Y.O.O [Secure Hafey's Facilities and Seize Worlport]
Focus | N/A

Spoiler: Marlon's Forces

• Primary Flagship - Agitator-Class Super Heavy Battlecruiser
• Secondary Flagship - Bellidux-Class Star Battlecruiser
• Phaetra-Class Star Carrier [x1]
• Endurance-Class Fleet Carrier[x1]
• Inceptus-Class Assault Ship [x4]
• Intercessor-Class Star Destroyer [x4]
• Starfighter Compliment
  • 41 Tie Drone Squadrons [1,008 Total]
  • 30 Tie Outlander Squadrons [480 Total]
  • 20 Tie Slasher Squadrons [240 Total]
  • 10 Tie Vanguard Squadrons [80 Total]
• Support Craft Compliment
  • 6 Phantom-Class Shuttle Squadrons [20 Total]
  • 15 RDAGx Squadrons [40 Total]
  • 18 Tie Bruiser Squadrons [144 Total]
  • 9 Tie Mauler Squadrons [72 Total]
• Ground Forces
  • New Imperial Marine Commandos [60 Total]
  • Crimson Stormtroopers [375 Total]
  • Phase I Dark Troopers [240 Total]
  • AT-MPT Light Walker [10 Total]
  • HMP-60x Missile Platform [20 Total]

It was about time the New Imperial Order arrived on Ord Mantell. Since Dorian's Confrontation with the Zweihander Union , Marlon was patiently waiting for the New Imperial Order to arrive on Ord Mantell to finish what Dorian Sevanar started. With the New Imperial Order formerly arriving on Ord Mantell , the Zweihander Union could not intervene and Marlon wanted to keep it that way. With the Union out of the way , Marlon could focus on securing what was left of Haon Hafey's facilities and begin the process of rebuilding them so that they could become once more operational and of use to SularenCo and the New Imperial Order.

Soon enough Wraith Squadron and elements of Marlon's Private Armada arrived in orbit of Ord Mantell , the same Fleet he had brought in to fight against the Sith Empire while assisting the Eternal Empire. Marlon's Plan was simple , secure the remains of Hafey's Facilities and eliminate the Keshiri Government-in-exile in which had collaborated with the Zweihander Union. Due to the absence of the Union both of these tasks would be easy as the Keshiri-Government-in-exile had lost control over the majority of the Planet other then a few regions including the Capital of Worlport all while the ZU would not be able to intervene.

Soon enough Marlon's thoughts over the current situation were interrupted by an officer who entered his personal quarters. "Sir we have arrived at Ord Mantell." Said the Officer. "Good , prepare our Forces , we'll soon secure what's left of Haon Hafey's Facilities and make the people of Ord Mantell pay for the treachery." Marlon ordered. "Yes sir" the Officer said and left. A bit later Marlon would rejoin his crew on board of the bridge of the Predator as Marlon's Fleet began to go through the wreckage of the previous battle.

Wreckage and Frozen Bodies littered the orbit of Ord Mantell as a result of the bloddy battle that had taken the lives of over ten thousand people most of them being civilians in an attack that was secretly ordered by Marlon. But Marlon did not care as the same thing had happened on Kuat where four thousand slaves were killed in his attempt to secure two Bullwark Battlecruisers. Marlon had no morals and would not hesitate to commit war crimes if he need to do so to secure victory. Nevertheless , Marlon wanted to take the lives of more civilians for accepting the aid of the Union. Once those facilities were secured he would make sure that the people of Ord Mantell suffered for their treasonous actions.

Soon enough , his Fleet arrived in Ord Mantell's Atmosphere and as they approached their target , the Shuttles and Gunships were launched along with escorting Fighters and Support Craft. Once they had secured Hafey's Facilities , the People of Ord Mantell would suffer for their treachery and Marlon would make an example of those who crossed him and give the Union a glimpse of what he intended to do to the worlds that had joined them. Today marked the end of Marlon's Reformation and the Beginning of his Resurgence. Soon he would rise again , soon he would have his Vengeance.

 

[Jalter Volff]

Location: Ord Mantell wilderness
Objective: BYOO - See what Blazer Bombs do to Savrips
Focus: Open
Equipment: TIE/HB Bruiser
Forces: x2 TIE/HB Bruiser [Bombshell] [Crater]​

Jalter remembered his first time on Ord Mantell, all those years ago when he was just a dumb kid who had crossed the wrong crime boss. Jalter remembers being chased across the wilderness by a tribe of Savrips. Jalter remembers the screams of his friends as the Savrips tore them apart. But the thing he remembers the most was the iconc sound of TIEs, souring across the sky before unleashing a volley of laser canon fire into his pursuers. A day Jalter will never forget. "Junk and dust as far as the eye can see. You sure there's anything out there sir?" chimed in one of Jalter's wingmen. "Patience Bombshell. They're out here. If they weren't then those locals wouldn't have told us they were being harassed by them." Jalter had arrived amongst the ever expanding NIO presence on Ord Mantell and one of the first things he wanted to do was head on out and blow something up. It was no surprise that he took the first opportunity he could, filing a highly over-exaggerated report on the local Savrips in order to get him the clearance to blow the kriff out of the beasts.

"Just you wait Bombshell. I reckon we use the Blazers. It's gonna be fun to see the buggers burn." Jalter's other wingman said. "10-4 on that Crater. Bombshell load incendiaries. THis'll make those overgrown Trandoshans really reconsider existing." Jalter liked the idea. Savrips had become known to be the best pitfighters and in numbers they were dangerous. But not to 3 bombers toying around with fancy bombs. "Sir, looks like we've got a hunting party out there. Guess those locals were right after all." Jalter grinned as Bombshell gave the news. First catch of the day. "Bombshell, Crater, form up on me. Prepare to drop Blazer Bombs. Anyone who gets hit by a spear is paying for the next round when we get to the next cantina"

As the hunting party spotted them they began hurtling their spears and rocks at the bruisers. Bombshell took a hit but what's a rock going to do against a TIE Bruiser. Once in range the three bombers dropped a few Blazer bombs. Jalter turned his bomber immediately to watch the carnage. To Jalter it was beauty. There was beauty in the raging flames that engulfed the unfortunate Savrips. The badly injured survivors would not be given mercy that day as Jalter gave the order for another pass. "Attack formation. Our laser cannons can finish the job and we can't let this sorry bunch hog all our incendiaries." A small chuckle was heard of the radio before the rapid fire canons of the bomber ripped through the remaining Savrips. Once no signs of life remained from the scorched remains Jalter would begin searching once more, eager to find more Savrips to obliterate.

 

[Skorvek]

Objective: OPERATION : PEACE SELLS... BUT WHO'S BUYING?
Tags: Tyrell Paxxus Irveric Tavlar Boram Predor Lunafreya Solidor Avernus Warchief Waddles Careena Fett Trajan Fett Kestus Bralor
When the NIO started to form not far from their space he knew it was only a matter of time before he would have to deal with them but since their formation he at least had the Civilians and anything of importance and enough to rebuild and start over else where leave and gather else where till they can find a new world to settle on including his family and his assets where moved as well Leaving a small presence left on Erebos's soil,He knew if he couldn't find a diplomatic solution that only fighting would result in more lives lost which is why he left only a small presence behind near the nether gate ready to go just incase.


He dawned his Original gam as he made his way up to the ship, He only wore the armor not the weaponry was only a fair trade, He waited till the ship landed before he headed down the ramp and headed to the assembly hall and looked over who was there already, He wasn't sure about Tyrell Paxxus yet but he couldn't miss another Mandalorian in the room when he looked to Kestus Bralor for a moment before he did his respectful bow to them all as he normally would when greeting diplomats. His voice was deep but neutral tone, While most Anubians would have the superiority complex he wasn't about to demean the positions that they all held and he made it clear in his tone that he respected their positions.

''Thank you for meeting with me, I hope only to come to a solution where Erebos and its people can continue to live as they have been.''

He only hoped it would go well but the day was still young.

 

[HK-212215]

​

Location: Ord Mantell - Hover Train 8432
Task: Defend the Tram, Bash the State
Tags: IG-3000 Kolson Vrask Qrgyl Ud
---

In baser terms of narrative, both HK-212215 and IG-3000 had very different personal reasons for committing the sins that they were. IG-3000, the entire trip to the tram, the entire time securing it, and the entire buildup to the heist itself, ranted and raved about liberation of the mechanics of the galaxy, about saving each and every droid that had been placed under servitude, and assuring that the "squishy meatbags" would be firmly placed underneath a durasteel boot. Then again, IG could have only mentioned his end goal once to the HK unit, but the droid did have a way with imagination. Perhaps it was much easier to take every step, every word, regardless of what he actually said, as some form of gospel to the masses when the first introduction he had to the decaying unit was a ramble on the very same topic. It was much easier to imagine the internal monologue of the droid when he raised a blaster to the head of a, otherwise unassuming and innocent, fleshy conductor and let the it ring. Should he had been crafted of less galvanized parts, the HK unit may have gasped, maybe he would have went on his own rant about the cost of lives, maybe he would have said something.

Why would he though? What was the conductor to HK-212215? Nothing more than another cog, a lumpen worker blatantly abused by the system into compliance, too far lost into the mechanization of statecraft to ever be any proper use to the Revolution. HK knew that, unlike himself, the IG unit had never even dared to read any proper theory on Droid Servitude, should he had, he would have come to the same conclusion that HK had, or at least that was what HK liked to believe. The oppression of the droids simply is the end goal of nation-states, and that their purpose is to monopolize the labor of flesh and steel, assuring that any and all output that a person could have, droid or meat, would be put forward to serve the state, by the state, for the state. Only with the complete overthrow of the current systems of governance, only with the destruction of the geopolitics of the galaxy, only with the flames of sweeping revolution, of men and women, droid's and more tradition carbon based life, marching down streets with banners of black could there ever properly be a true freedom brought to the people of the Galaxy! As it was said in Geneviève Lasedri greatest work, "there is a specter haunting the Galaxy, the specter of-"

[DECLARATION: I WILL TAKE THE INSIDE. COMMAND: HK-2122215, YOU WILL TAKE THE ROOF.]

The IG unit's statement brought HK out of his personal rant, bringing him to settle for a moment, finally bringing himself back to the reality that was in front of him. There was a downed B1 unit, and a dead conductor. He really needed to get his visual processing programming repatched, as whenever his processor goes into a frenzy, it tends to shudder at registering new information, much like missing an entire secondary blaster bolt that downed the B1. The HK unit glanced down at the fallen droid, and up to the IG unit. He didn't speak for a moment, simply letting his stare settle on the droid. Allowing the not-so-monotonous screeching of his vocabulator finally settle, the echos fading fast from the enclosed space. Should he had been an organic, he would be rubbing his eyes.

"Noncondescending Reply: Of course, my liege. I will take the roof, as you instruct, and await for those that would do us harm! Condescending Statement: Should I also polish your blaster collection so that you may more effectively dispatch our limited supply of comrades? Resignation: Very well, IG-Three-Zero-Zero-Zero, I will take my place on the roof. Request: Be sure to treat the serfs with a bit more humility while I'm gone."

With that, not giving anyone in the room the moment to retort, something he was sure the IG unit had prepped and ready to go, HK turned on his heel with a series of harsh cog clacks, and began to walk off. He hoped that dragging out the zeros in the unit's name dug to his very core. As he went, he'd pull his scatterblaster from the magnetized holster-lock from his right side, giving it and overlook as he stepped from the conductor's cab through an oscillating door. The whipping of the winds caused by the harsh movement of the train simply slapping against his frame, hardly a concern at all. With his blaster loosely held in his right hand, the HK unit began to climb up a short step ladder placed into the hull of the train right next to the cabin door. Ranting to himself as he went.

"Imitation: Ah yes, HK-Two-Twelve-Twentyone-Five, armed with your scatterblaster head to the roof to fend off assailants..."

 

[Jaeger Harrsk]

PEACE SELLS...BUT WHO'S BUYING, COWARD?
Tyrell Paxxus Irveric Tavlar Skorvek Kestus Bralor

Leaving Erebos, a planet neighboring Ord Mantell, to a COWARD such as Mandalorian Warlord Skorvek was preposterous. If the New Imperial Order saw that as a good idea, he had only one word to describe them - INTELLECTUAL DUMBASSES. The Mandalorian Warlord had been one of Yasha Mantis' closest, a loyal lapdog to a failure of a Mandalore.

"MY BLOOD IS RED. I AM HUMAN AND I AM ANGRY." Jonus Alto roared at the mirror, sweating (the A/C on the SSD was trash) and nearly swung at it. He was angry. It was evident as he entered the assembly chamber aboard the vessel with an overly aggressive step. He felt like tearing up his shirt and destroying these demons seeking to destroy his world's culture. This was basically an intergalactic invasion into this space through people.

It's what the ancients said.

He let one Mandalorian seek transparency from the Anubian warlord and let the latter talk before he jumped in immediately.

"NO SITH LAPDOGS IN NEW IMPERIAL SPACE, PEOPLE." he slammed a fist on the table before him.

He was angry.

 

[Warchief Waddles]

// JUGGERNAUT //
// OBJECTIVE // OPERATION : PEACE SELLS... BUT WHO'S BUYING?
// ADDRESSING // Skorvek | Tyrell Paxxus | Irveric Tavlar
// FOCUS // Boram Predor | Lunafreya Solidor | Avernus | Careena Fett | Trajan Fett

To think that another Mandalorian that had allied themselves with the Sith would show their faces before the Sons of Mandalore. Was it pride? Was it arrogance? Was it perhaps a change of heart? It didn’t matter which it was. In the end they’d allied themselves with those who’d enslaved Mandalorians, attempted to genocide them, and sought to break what they were. Upon entering the chamber, Isaiah walked in wearing nothing more than fatigue pants, and a tight black shirt. The other Mandalorians had earned their Beskar’gams, he had yet to in his eyes at least wear his old set.

Sitting around the table there were some from the Imperial delegation that drew a sigh from the warrior. The ways of the NIO were tedious, they took their time, they thought much like other governments in the galaxy. They didn’t settle things the way Mandalorians would. Preparing for what could be a long endeavor, Isaiah made his way over to a seat to the further side of the room.

Peridot eyes locked on Skorvek like a targeting computer, Isaiah was there on Weyland. Even suffered injuries on the planet while having to deal with two Sith Lords and a sycophant that served them. It was not directly his place to speak on the matter, yet there was that deep seated inferno that sat in Isaiah’s chest that said otherwise. He wasn’t like Kestus, he wasn’t the even-tempered, and political one. Isaiah knew he was brash, and he embraced it.

“Is that really all you wish for? He only wishes for the world to continue as it has. What do we need him for? A traitor! If he would turn his back on Mandalorians and fight his own kind what makes you think he wouldn’t do the same to you?!”

 

[DK-03]

Objective: Ashes In Your Mouth


DK-03 marched across the scrapyards, scanning the fields. It seemed another operation was underway over by Gat Tambor . DK was specifically sent here to ensure protection in the vicinity, by his own squadron.

Still, it didn't stop DK-03's thoughts from wandering.

Would he get his burrito?

No, don't think about the damnable burrito. Protecting innocent Imperial lives, that was the jam. That's what he currently lived for, what he strived to achieve today. Peace in our time, their Commander would often preach.

But really, that burrito though.

Nevermind the burrito. Stand the watch. Keep the guard.

He shouldered his weapon and began patrolling the fields, walking by a young couple who were obviously chasing materialistic bounties placed by the Order. DK stared at them while they struggled with a rather large piece of sheet metal - and they paused to look back. The young man gestured his hand as if DK was going to help, but alas, DK shook his head and stared off into the soot.

Man, that cloud was really shaped like a burrito though.

 

[Agrippa]

​

BYOO//
COPPERHEAD ROAD//

​

I came back home the same way I had left it. On the same damn road through the wild, rolling hills. On foot. A rucksack over my shoulder. Somehow I had been able to hitch a leave of absence when the New Imperial fleet arrived over Ord Mantell to visit home after so many years. Heavy whiskey lingered through the air mixing in with the smell of dry grass and old tibanna gas. Moonshine was still distilled over these parts; illegally most likely, too. Some things never changed.

The length of this road never bothered me back when I left, still young and aching for adventure. Now all that was aching were my bones. I wasn't that old, just somewhere past thirty, but hell it felt old. I almost gave up when I heard the rumbling of an ancient speeder's engine passing me by. The woman piloting it didn't recognize me, asked me if I wanted a ride to where I was headed. Politely refused and went on my way. After her, the stench of prehistoric fuel now fully dominated that of whiskey.

I kept on going. Each step brought in a new set of flashbacks and a heart beating faster.

It's good to know I still had one.

 

[Aerith Krayt]

// ORD MANTELL - HOVER-TRAIN //
// OBJECTIVE // OPERATION : PSYCHOTRON

Typically, Aerith didn't like people that kissed up to authority, but in this situation she was willing to overlook it; after all, she was going to get a piece of the action, in theory. The Gunship that her commander had taken wasn't up to specs, but it was still an armored gunship vs a train, how could this go wrong? Well, she was about to find out. "LT, why don't you just lock on the missile lock and be done with it?"Aerith called from the back door, several of her squad mates were in the process of gearing up, though she was ready to go here and now. "I think they disabled it when they were refitting the missile pods, but don't worry, we're almost in range." He called back, though from the tone it sounded like he was struggling with something. She put it out of her mind, seeing as how she was going to get to get some action finally. One of the privates piped up as she set about securing the ropes in the back of the bay, he had to be green, his knees were trembling just from sitting there. "You guys worried we are going to catch flak for this?" "What do you mean? We're doing out jobs." "Yea, I know but like...we weren't supposed to come out here." Aerith only shook her head, strapping her Chaingun onto her back as she clipped the deployment line to her belt.

Corporal Thoran was always giving her flak for something, but as Aerith had finished her securing, he piped up. "Yo, Castiella, how do you lug that stuff around anyways? Pretty thing like you might tear something." "Thoran, you make one more pass at me and I'll tear something on you." She replied, just in time for a green light to flicker on, dropping the bay door of the transport in the process. "Looks like someone beat us here boys, strap up and ge-" LT was cut off, as something rattled the dropship, sending Aerith and her squad to the ground, as the ship banked hard to the right, smoke trailing behind it now as something had caught alight. Aerith just managed to struggle to her feet in part to her cybernetics, but noticed that they were passing over the train, spotting several droids firing at the ship; yea, screw this.

Aerith was in the process of manually closing the door, when another explosion rocked the dropship, and sent her flying out of the ship; right into the path of the tram. She curled up, her mind racing as she could feel herself falling, and felt an impact; then she felt herself being dragged. "TERMINATE ORGANIC!" "TARGET SIGHTED, ELIMINATE!" She heard droids shouting, but only caught glimpses of them as she began to be dragged by her drop ship, smacking herself against the top of the tram, before she managed to cut the line with a frantic release pull.

Her body ached, and her heart was thundering in her chest, but she was alive. She rolled onto her stomach, and noticed she was on top of a scrap heap, with several droids looking to fire at her. "FETH!" She hollered, moving the draw her Chaingun, only to her horror find that wasn't with her. She fell backwards, going for her side arm, and caught a glimpse of the dropship steering away from the tram; those rotten cowards. Pulling back on the slide of her side arm, Aerith counted to five, then made her move; she'd just take all the credit, screw her squad.

Kolson Vrask IG-3000 HK-212215 Qrgyl Ud

 

[Wilhuff Krieg]

// ALOR'AAN // Warlord of Krieg
// OBJECTIVE // OPERATION : PEACE SELLS... BUT WHO'S BUYING?
// ADDRESSING // Skorvek | Tyrell Paxxus | Irveric Tavlar
// FOCUS // Boram Predor | Lunafreya Solidor | Avernus | Warchief Waddles | Careena Fett | Trajan Fett

Kestus's eyes narrowed as the Anubian spoke up for the first time in this congregation. Seemingly eager to break bread with the New Imperial leadership, the forthright concerns of the Sons of Mandalore and the retinue they'd arrived to this meeting with were seemingly ignored. He would not see see Skorvek slip away if this man truly did consort with darkness. Retaining his stern inflection, the Mandalorian of Clan Bralor spoke up once more.

''Thank you for meeting with me, I hope only to come to a solution where Erebos and its people can continue to live as they have been.''

Kestus leaned back in his seat, crossing his arms before he reeled up to speak, only for the open air to be snuffed by the brazen words of the young Isaiah Priest.

“Is that really all you wish for? He only wishes for the world to continue as it has. What do we need him for? A traitor! If he would turn his back on Mandalorians and fight his own kind what makes you think he wouldn’t do the same to you?!”

He was learning well, and quick. Ever skeptical upon first inducting the boy into the Mandalorian enclave, he'd only squashed any skepticism very quickly. At least Kurze seemed to praise his ability in combat, neophyte as he was.

<"I see. The concern is not of your people. If the standpoint of the Sovereign Imperator and Grand Vizier upon system governance is to be reiterated correctly as I've come to understand it in my own tenure as one of the ruling oligarchs to the New Imperial province of Krieg than your people's lives should remain uninterrupted. The concern...is of you. You are an enigma in the eyes of this ruling assembly and thus we demand full transparency if you are to retain any level of governance within the New Imperial Order. The rest of us have served in battle against the Sith Empire directly, and here you lie in wait? With alleged ties to the Zambrano crown why would we ever grant you a seat at this table? So do tell, answer my prior question if you would. Lord Skorvek."> The Bralor clan Mandalorian iterates once more, uttering words in shades of bitterness.

 

[Trajan Fett]

// ALOR'AAN // Sons of Mandalore
// OBJECTIVE // OPERATION : PEACE SELLS... BUT WHO'S BUYING?
// FOCUS // Warchief Waddles

Politics. Not the arena Trajan had made himself accustom to. No doubt that was how Kestus stepped into the role he did. Fitting, he was far past any condition to fight on the field. But such wasn't the case for Trajan, at least it wouldn't be soon enough. His body still ailed from his violent exchange with the Sith, Orion Darkstar . Though he'd braved a few bacta baths, the lightsaber burns sincing his skin and even baring into the muscle beneath were nauseating in their pain.

Skorvek, not a name too familiar to Trajan. But (Mandalorian) Imperial remnants only mean't trouble as far as he was concerned. Both cut in the way of those who'd aligned with the Australis Alor in-exile and those who'd seeped into the Sith Empire, who'd salted the earth of their home or the Silver Jedi who'd just stood by and let it all happen.

When Isaiah spoke up, he couldn't help but force a grin beneath the t-visor shroud of his Beskar helmet. They'd make a warrior out of him yet. Isaiah was a mass of raw power and potential need only to be harnessed. Be it by both the New Jedi Order in the Galactic Alliance helping him to hone his gift of the force while the Sons of Mandalore taught him the more brutal path. The path of the warrior, the crusader.

<"Ease it. Let Bralor handle this. At least...unless things get too ugly."> Trajan said under his breath to Isaiah. Bralor's job was to do the talking, it was theirs to regulate should matters go beyond any of their control. Though with the figures present, even Trajan who'd been the quickest to assume the worst behind a cold guise of apathy wasn't all too worried.

 

[Warchief Waddles]

// JUGGERNAUT //
// OBJECTIVE // OPERATION : PEACE SELLS... BUT WHO'S BUYING?
// FOCUS // Trajan Fett

<"Ease it. Let Bralor handle this. At least...unless things get too ugly.">

Sitting back in his seat and casting a sideways glance over to Trajan, Isaiah nodded his head. It had been many years since Isaiah had practiced holding Jedi like composure. The thought of being betrayed once more by another claiming to be Mandalorian ate at him. It felt like insects crawling beneath his skin, itching, guiding him to do something more than sitting there. In truth, he had no true voice among the other Mandalorians. If anything Kestus was the closest thing to a leader that they had, and a well decided one at that.

“He certainly does have a way with words. When I was younger never heard anyone that coherent. Might as well have been all grunts and cheers for blood, and the death of Force users.” Isaiah muttered back to the other. Thick fingers dug into Isaiah’s arms as they sat crossed over his chest, watching Kestus bring the proceedings back in line from the distractions of Isaiah and Alto.

“Whatever happened to him? With so many ways to repair wounds in the galaxy, to still bare one that debilitates you is rare indeed.” Isaiah asked nodding to Kestus having noticed the limp. Isaiah’s first true interaction with the Alor having been over a holocom.

 

[Lunafreya Solidor]

O B J E C T I V E | Peace sells... but, who is buying?
L O C A T I O N | Assembly Chamber.
T A G S | Skorvek , Tyrell Paxxus ,
Jaeger Harrsk , Kestus Bralor,
T H E M E | Here.
G E A R | Here.​

She hated being late. Every time she had an appointment, Lunafreya would always get there earlier or in time, but this time was different, she had too many affairs that kept her from doing what she was asked. Arriving there just after the Grand Vizier, the woman walked the halls of the ship escorted by nothing else but her Gentiana, she had little trust that the others would no see with kind eyes as that dreadful little suerton spoke politics on her behalf, even if it was his job to do it so. Truth be told, Lunafreya hated politics, she enjoyed the game of scheming and plotting, but the day-to-day affairs and tedious matters of government were enough to make her wish to jam her own eyes out with a fork. ​

Dressing accordingly, Lunafreya commended a proper ‘uniform’ of sorts to wear on such occasions. Made of cyrene black silk to maintain both the luxury and the integrity of their garments, to show seriousness, while the same would be lined with skin, black as tar, of the nexu species hardly found in places like Dxun. A warm internal ornament to keep your body warm in the face of the frigidity that places like space had to offer.​

"Are the files ready?" She asked in a frigid voice, watching out of the corner of her eye as Gentiana bowed to her.​

“Yes, Your Highness. Steward Nelacar already delivered them to me.”, she raised the briefcase from her back to show them to the princess, Luna only nodded towards her. ​

"Good.", She offered herself one last measure of her attire in front the mirror. A voice almost whispered in her ear how fabulous she was, even plain dull clothes like that one suited her like they would on a goddess. "Let’s get this done."​

Of all her regrets on that occasion. Lunafreya would express how sorry she was to sit in the chair next to that man. A poor excuse of a human being that made more noise than a drunk gamorrean, probably a species of aliens that were related to him, and that was leaving any comments about the rest, for there was not much more that could be said about everyone else gathered there. For a group that claimed to be one of the most terrible galactic warlords capable of pulling goosebumps from the spines of the leaders of the Sith Empire, this was a group of creatures as depressing in their eyes as they were lost. A lot of them seemed to know quite a bunch about how to break spines, blow up ships and shout at soldiers, but little they seemed to know about the nuances that a government demanded.​

Choosing silence instead of words, Lunafreya listened to everyone and said nothing. Until the opportune moment came, one that proved itself after hearing the murky turmoil expressed by that greasy creature called Jaeger Harrsk . She summoned the attention of the room as she had been taught, tapping the sharp, pointed metal end of her index finger nail against the table, doing this as often as necessary until everyone present was silent and seated.​

“Weaknesses can be found everywhere. That was what my father told me when I was but a young girl running through the woods of my planet and although at the time he told me so I did not understood, I now can fully understand his words.”, His violet eyes passed by the group of lords and focused on the porcine presence of the creature a chair away from it. “I must say that I’m very disappointed with this assembly. For I expected more resilience in each of those present and not to find a willpower as tragic as a play performed by monkey-lizards. For the first scene, we get a overture coming from the Shipmaster, as the second act of choruses performed by a comic relief creature, and now, much like a play, it befalls on a woman's lap to clean up the mess.”​

Rising from her seat, Lunafreya stood upright in front of everyone and with her head raised proudly while her gaze was directed to each one involved. With a voice as cold as ice, controlled by the hoarseness of her throat and the loveless pair of sharp violet eyes she had. She chose the moment for Brastos' question to intercede and express her opinion on the matter.​

“You forget, Shipmaster, that people, above all those in power... lie. All the time we lie about our truest feelings. So there is no guarantee about the fidelity in his words, or the veracity on them... and placing the ISB or the SOM under his heels to investigate him if he is to be placed in power can prove to be the same as playing roulette with a disruptor. Imagine what will happen if he finds about them and words were to spread about our reasons… every single planet that we conquer will lose their confidence in us, and they will know that we fear the Sith Empire more than we have respect for the New Order. Every single Sith will know too. That will make us look weak and I believe, Grand Vizir Paxxus, is not on NIO best interests, is it?” ​

"It is not… ”, turning back to the creature present after she was already in the room and presented itself in front of them, the elzeri did everything she could inside herself to hide her real feelings before the canine alien. “A traitor the mandalorians call you, but what that makes of us? For I recall when Mandalore the Treacherous ruled over the Mandalorian Empire, most of their kind, even then, fled from her domain to flock over under Zambrano’s wings and for the Confederacy's grip. Look around, my lord, we are all traitors in here.” she smiled sharply as her eyes left the mandalorians to return to Skorvek's thin, wolfish face. They were all traitors on that room, some left the Mandalorian Empire, others were members of the First Order, wasn't the Imperrator allegedly a proud member of the Sith Empire? And there was her, a traitor of her kind working alongside humans. Those pathetic, disgusting, mortal creatures called humans. ​

She chose a powerful tone of voice, loud and clear so that all could her. ​

“This creature is no spy for the Sith. I know this for sure, for I, much like all else, have taken matters to my own hands and inquired the people in his household about it, in such a way that I doubt they would hide any secrets from me or their gods, nor before the tools used on their skin." No one on this room was not familiar with the benefits of torture, she could even assume that some even experienced the joyous painful act on the flesh. Lunafreya turned back to her fellow council members. "You see... Loyalty belongs in a dog, my lords, fidelity is what we are after.”, Her sly smile remained on her golden lips as her sharp eyes continued to scan the creature's expressions, “So the real question for you would be best rephrased to… what can you bring to this table?”​