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Salt and Souls | CIS Dominion of Crait Hex

Eternal Storm

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C R A I T

If anything could truly be considered a backwater world, Crait would definitely check off every piece of criteria. A barren world void of any precious metals, sentient lifeforms or anything else of significance. Located in a remote star system of the same name, the only things that had ever occurred on the planet of note had been a small outpost in the bygone days of heroism and rebellion in the days before the Gulag Plague and four-hundred-year darkness. Since then, less than a whisper had been mentioned of the planet, forgotten to the entire outside galaxy. But there were those who were trapped on the planet, and they could not forget. They could not leave, and thus they were doomed to the salt and soil of Crait for an eternity.

That was, until the Confederacy came. The location of the planet had fallen off of the star charts used by the galaxy, but when a merchant by happenstance miscalculated his jump to hyperspace and ended up in the orbit of the forgotten world, he hurried back to the nearest Confederate port to spread the word. A world undiscovered, full of riches and plunder! As was the custom, the spacer’s tale spread like wildfire throughout the Confederacy, and it wasn’t long before freighters and cargo haulers were bound for the planet, pilots filled with dreams of untold wealth and power. Yet when they arrived, the minerals that Crait had to offer was not what the journeyors had envisioned, and so they journeyed deeper, past the salt flats, through crystalline caverns, and deep into places of forgotten things. Things that did not rest, and things that should not have been disturbed.

There were few that escaped to tell the tale, but soon a quite different story was spreading across the Confederacy; one that there was a planet full of haunted beings, vengeful spirits who would curse anyone that dare disturbed their peace. The disturbing story even reached the halls of the Citadel, the headquarters of the force-oriented Knights Obsidian. Those who heard the story knew that it was of significance; there were few matters of the afterlife that did not involve the force, after all, and who better to deal with the force than the Knights Obsidian? Thus, a team was dispatched from Monastery to deal with the potential threat, and none gave more thought to Crait.

An exception to that was, of course, the secretive Ministry of Secrets. While the other branches of the Confederacy government dealt with trade, economics, public appearance, and daily governance, the Ministry of Secrets was concerned with overall matters of state and security. And so it was an unnamed source that brought it to the Ministry’s attention that the schematics of a presumed-lost model of starship -- the Starhawk-class Battlecruiser, a warship who’s inexcusably-powerful tractor-beams were the stuff of legend -- was hidden away, encrypted in some part of the derelict base. The war with the United Clans of Mandalore was slowly ebbing away, but those who were prudent knew that it would only dissolve into a false peace, the calm before the real storm began. When the calm would break, when the storm would finally come to pass, the Confederacy would need every advantage it would get. And so another team, this time from the Ministry of Secrets, was ordered to Crait with the objective to locate the schematics and retrieve them for further use.

And last but not least, another, more varied team of Confederates had been dispatched to the base, to see if -- and begin the work of -- restoring the outpost for use by the Confederacy. The Confederacy was expanding rapidly, almost too rapidly for those who preached caution, and there were whole new sectors of territory to the south that lacked a strong military presence to defend them. To that end, a third group had been dispatched to restore the base to working order so that the Confederate Defense Force could utilize the base as a regional headquarters, in order to consolidate the defenses of the region. However, it had been quite a long while since the base had been inhabited, and the minerals of Crait have eroded much of the support structure in the former outpost. One wrong step could cause the entire roof of the base to catastrophically cave in, killing everyone beneath, meaning that restoration would not be an easy task.

Objectives
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Rumor has spread that a group of vengeful spirits on Crait have been abducting and killing those that would disturb their restless sleep. It is unsure what parts, if any, of the tale is true, but nonetheless a group from the Knights Obsidian has been dispatched to deal with the perceived threat. If the story is indeed true, then these spirits must be somehow pacified in order for the Confederacy to be able to safely establish a presence on the mineral world. Your task is to find out whatever these things are, and somehow put them to rest before they kill anyone else -- including you.


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The Ministry of Secrets have deduced that schematics of the ancient Starhawk-class battlecruiser is hidden away somewhere in the former Resistance base. While not a true battlecruiser, the tractor-beams of the legendary warship were powerful enough to drag a Super Star Destroyer down into planetary orbit, and such a ship would be a boon for the Confederacy war effort. Your task is to locate and decrypt the Starhawk schematics, and do so with extreme caution; the extreme time difference means that much of the data stored away in the derelict base is easily corruptible, meaning that one wrong word of code could erase the entire cache of blueprints.


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Eight hundred years have not been kind to the former Resistance base, and much help is required to reestablish the outpost to working order. Use all of your knowledge and abilities to restore the base to its former glory, and be sure to mind the slowly eroding structures while you’re at it. Tread lightly, lest you kill yourself and everyone around you.


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Vengeful spirits, hidden schematics, and fixing up a base might sound like fun, but Crait is a world of salt and minerals with much more to offer. Explore crystalline caverns, have fun with the crystal-canine Vulptexes, or anything else that happens to be your fancy. Crait is yours to explore!


Active Tag List
[member="A'Runda"]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Adelle Bastiel"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Alden Akaran"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Alkor Centaris"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Ashara Evanaris"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Willow Fae"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Amelia von Sorenn"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Aston Jacobs"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Aya Clarke"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Caesar Kenway"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Chikako Liona"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Corvus Dravere"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Cypher Raige"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Daisy Americus"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Damsy Callat"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Dalton Kenway"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Darth Tacitus"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Darth Novus"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Daxton Bane"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Destroyer 2873"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Dianah Vi'Dreya"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Erin Tenel"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Eli-Mae Forrest"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Fawn Alzi"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Faye Irithiel"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Gerwald Lechner"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Havoc (CT-375)"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Holt"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Ingrid L'lerim"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Ithiel Vi'Dreya"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Jayce Pryde"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Joannis Campbell"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="John Locke"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Jorco Czeku"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Jorge"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Josh Dragonsflame"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Jyoti Nooran"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Karlie Lynn Destat"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Kasca Fen"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Kathryn Foster"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Kayla Wylen"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Keva"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Kiff Brayde"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Kingsley"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Krystal Estain"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Kurayami Bloodborn"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Kurenai Yumi"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Kyber"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Kyrinov"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Luna Terrik"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Luna Vega"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Lyla Quinn"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Maple Harte"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Maur"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Mauer"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Minerva Vessia"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Muad Dib"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Nine Lives"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Oax Ordo"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Orion Trex"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Petra Cavataio"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Pom Stych Tivé"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Qaarssk Roark"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Razelle Breuner"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Roy Americus"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Rylan Kordel"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Scherezade deWinter"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Sor-Jan Xantha"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Srina Talon"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Talon Rahl"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="To'Kola Bakari"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Teyla Ee'everwest"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Valencia Hadley"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Vanric Dannon"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Veronika Fleischer"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="VildarnTentoria"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Voph"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Vyra Silara"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Vytal Noctura"][/SIZE]
 
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Location: Crait Landing Zone
Objective: Locate, Identify, and Pacify Hostile Spirits

Vytal Noctura strode down the loading ramp of the vessel she and others of the Mandragora had arrived on. Many had come, but not all would venture into the field. Some would remain here and establish a spiritual base of sorts. A place they could delve into the heart of things and provide direction to guide the investigation. Somewhere healing and supplies could be orchestrated should the assignment prove far more complicated than expected.

It was practically impossible to gauge how much of a threat these spirits truly were from the reports they'd been provided. Men and women that'd come here for riches fled in terror of some ill defined horror on the planet. There was as much of a chance it was all a myth devised by overworked sentients, or shadows cast by previously unobserved creatures on the planet. However, if there were specters on the planet that would stall the Confederacy's efforts to lay claim to the resources of Crait, then the Knights Obsidian would take care of such matters.

"Ensure the spiritual barrier is maintained at all times around the landing area. We are not the only members of the Confederacy ensuring its claim, and I will not have spirits sabotaging our efforts to leave, or spreading to worlds they don't belong on," Vytal announced as crates of magickal material and gear was offloaded. While she fully expected to emerge victorious and not suffer another defeat like the one on Tyra'Weilen, she would have been negligent not to prepare for an expedited departure if it became necessary.

She accepted a pad from one of the Warlocks that had accompanied them. Her eyes scanned over the readout for a few moments before she gave the man a nod and handed the device back to him. Good. Everything was accounted for and operational. Even indications the other groups that had been sent here were getting ready for their own tasks. All the better. Granted, they could run into spiritual problems, but on the other hand... they could run into spiritual problems. They would be living means of detecting pockets of spiritual activity. Full disclosure of the potential danger had been given to anyone arriving -- or at least Vytal had asked such to occur. Hopefully the bureaucrats hadn't held up the dissemination of information.

The Nightsister drew in a deep breath and released it. "Have the divination spells cast as soon as possible. We need to locate spiritual concentrations," Vytal announced to the group as a whole. Not that they weren't busy carrying out multiple tasks at once, but the to-do list needed reiterating so it was not forgotten. Best they didn't stand around all day admiring how the world burned under the sun from the white salt layer.

Tag: [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] | [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"] | Mandragora | Knights Obsidian | Open​
 
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Objective: Restless souls – Find the source of the spirits
Equipment: Lightsaber, Faceless Armor
Mental State: Curious
Tags: [member="Vytal Noctura"] and any other forcers!
Post: #1

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During her time as the apprentice to her master, Xobos had seen plenty of things that she never thought she’d see. Ice covered worlds, teaming jungles full of wildlife unseen anywhere else in the galaxy, the farthest reaches of the galaxy, practically all of it opening up to her. Not only that, but the people she met along the way were interesting enough themselves. Even the apprentices that she had shared time with seemed competent enough, with only one of them seemingly becoming anything closer than a far off acquaintance. Though it had been a while since she had seen the redhead. Something she wished to change soon enough.

Yet in all that time, most of her missions were much more solitary than, typically only involving one or two others. This, this was something entirely different. As she looked around the landing area, the amount of force users and the energy that radiated off them was a sight to see. Lagos was quick to agree, saying, “There are quite a lot of…interesting people here. Might be worth attempting to keep them alive to the best of our abilities to learn some new things.” She nodded silently to herself, agreeing with the voice only she could hear. Obviously, she wasn’t the most powerful force user here. That didn’t mean she couldn’t contribute in some way.

In a way, the Miraluka was truly an outsider here. An outsider to the structure of the traditional force users, albeit still an apprentice to a more powerful being. Neither falling in line with this knight group nor the witches that had come. For this reason, and seeing no other of the apprentices here yet, not knowing if any of the others would come, she stood slightly off to the side of the circle, flipping one of her lightsabers up and over in her hand. The other remained firmly on her belt, underneath her banthanwool cloak, ready for the moment it would be needed.

She watched, from afar, as the pale skinned woman began to give orders that she did not honestly understand. Whatever this witch was talking about, ranging from divination spells and spiritual concentrations it sounded like she knew what talking about. And Xobos, knowing the limitations of her own powers at the moment, knew that more than likely she would be a hinderance and not a help. Better to let the witches do their work and be ready for when the fighting started, if it ever did.

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Mission Objective : Vital Figures
Equipment: Lightsabers, standard tool kit, Daxton’s reflective trademark armor, explosive charges.

Originally the Sith Lord was going to join the team to quell the spirits, until word reached him of the rumored super weapons cache. To acquire such weapons would greatly augment the firepower of his personal flag ship, the Harbringer of Souls. Neatly dividing the firepower between tractor beams and ion cannons, the ship could punch a hole through defenses and pull them close so that robotic swarms could punch through before the defenders could get into position.

Crait, the planet of salt and tears, held many secrets, and Daxton was determined to secure this one for his own purposes. Striding to the command room, he waited for the results of the preliminary scans of the planet to determine where is the most likely place to look.
 
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Tags: Open


The silver cigarette holder was pressed against luscious lips painted red as the Kiffar viewed the screens within the FOB that the Confederacy had erected on Crait in lieu of their liberation of it from the hands of the spirited undead. So far it was all going to plan. The other birds had been told that she was merely her on behalf of the Vicelord, [member="Darth Metus"], himself. To keep an eye. That was, after all, the cover – as far as anyone who did not have the proper clearance to know, Rhaina Tira was a member of Darth Metus' staff, and not the most important person within the Ministry of Secrets.

She could see her birds moving forward, performing their duties, the Crows and the Ravens following the instructions of the Rooks, who in turn were performing her own orders without knowing that they had come from her. It was utterly boring. The birds, she knew, would return from their missions alive. There would be no needless deaths here, nothing to strike an interest. Did her birds release that they were but ants, doing the heavy lifting that ultimately, would matter not at all? And had a single one of them uncovered the plans which had been set into motion and would soon be revealed?

Rhaina laughed and exited the FOB, letting the ashes of the cigarette fall against the metal ground.

Outside, she could tell where they were. The dead. Not the one who had already become undead, but those that soon would be. Under normal circumstances, she would have had the bodies brought to her for examination. But what was there that the Aeshma member, the Minister of Secrets, the one who worked with the Crucible, would possibly glean from those who were dead here of all places?

Shaking her head, Rhaina leaned against the metal wall, and waited.
 
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Fe93CLbHjxQ​
Location: Crait Landing Zone
Gear: Medpac | Comlink | Headphones | Lightsaber
Tags: [member="Vytal Noctura"] | [member="Xobos Yakieer"] | Mandragora

Even if the planet wasn't haunted, this ship certainly had a ghost on it.

Said ghost was about four-and-half feet tall and sounded a lot like a Nautolan who was supposed to be on Ryloth working on homework. Really, this was Crait. As a youngling, Zak should have been just about anywhere in the galaxy that wasn't right here, right now. Of course, this had never stopped any Zak ever. Weren't there adults who were supposed to be supervising him? Clearly, the quality of grown ups in the galaxy had seen significant decline when younglings could just stowaway this easily.

Whatever the case, not only was Zak on Crait, but he was also dressed up like a ghost. Which is to say, he had a white sheet draped over him with some eye holes cut out in the center so that he could see where he was going. Not that he really needed to. He was just zig-zagging back and forth making oowoooo noises at people, whilst waving his arms around.

Under the make-shift ghost attire, he was actually wearing a skeleton costume. Because youngling. And if that still didn't make sense, chock it up to random act of Zak. The skeleton costume was rather simple as well, a black shirt and trousers that were decorating will luminescent depictions of bones that glowed in the dark. He still had his utility belt, a medpac at the small of his back and the thin baton of Riptide's hilt visible as it swung free from over his left hip.

The bone structure it depicted was, of course, humanonormative, despite the fact that there were plenty of younglings in the galaxy who -- like Zak -- were nothing human. If you walked upright and had fingers and toes, it seemed that the toy industry lumped you in with the near humans.

But, species-ist marketing aside, the hyperactive tadpole was bounding around the inside of the landing zone. At first, for no reason in particular, and later because the ground here was covered in some kind of white powder stuff -- which went everywhere as Zak's excessive physical energy kicked up clouds of salt. Much to his delight and the likely ire of anyone nearby.

If there were ghosts or spirits here, one look at this kid was likely to send them back to the abyss to escape the kid-sized wrecking ball.
 
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Location: Crystalline Cavern, Crait
Objective: Explore the Cavern
Post: 1
Tag(s): [member="Faye Malvern"] || Feel Free to Join
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Crait. The planet didn’t have a flowery or pompous reputation. No gusto or sprawling row of resorts to bring forth the denizens of the galaxy at large. Hell, had it not been for the miscalculated jump by that chance merchant, the planet might still remain in the shadows of vast expanse beyond. It wasn’t on any astrogation charts and its name had seemingly been stricken from the pages of history. However, even as insignificant as the small, salt rich world may have seemed to the many that had chosen to pass it over, it wasn’t without its own sense of beauty. Its own splendor. And its own wonders that only needed to be sought out and uncovered. And the red hewn surface blanketed in an expansive sea of salt was just that - the surface of what Crait really had to offer.

It was once one dove beneath that rather bland surface, that they truly began to experience the beauty this planet had to offer. Intricate networks of caverns that glistened with sprawling cultures of crystalline formations. They push upward with a might from the floor and hung tight to the cavern ceilings. Even came in differing shades, though a polished, diamond-esque surface was the dominant feature. And even through this magnificent system of tunnels and passages, creatures of a similar appearance ran free. Skittish in nature for certain, but that didn’t take away from the fascination one might find as their eyes fell upon Crait’s native fauna.

This is where Alden had found himself. A narrow tunnel had opened into a massive chamber with a raised ceiling appearance. In this chasm, the crystalline formations took on a new level of being. The structures towered in height here and seemed to come in varying shades of faint blues, purples, greens and reds, however still heavily dominated by the translucent blue-white reminiscent of diamond. These caves were a marvel in their own, but when one would open up into such a scene, the site became breathtaking.

A few Vulptexes darted this way and that across the chamber, alarmed by the arrival of foreign bipedal beings which were all but alien to them.
 
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Wearing: Obsidian type Strike Armor | "Executor" Boots Exclusive
Wielding: Obsidian Knight Sword | WindWhisper | Pouch of Vita Stones
Tags: [member="Vytal Noctura"] [member="Zak Dymo"] [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] [member="Xobos Yakieer"] | + Feel free to join


So much empty space that can be toyed with right here!
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Alwine was on edge. It seemed that ever since the Knights Obsidian meeting on the planet of Maramere, everything had changed yet remained the same, but in the worst of possible ways. It had begun when her brother, [member="Gerwald Lechner"], had disappeared. She had warned him to not do it, but he had not heeded her request, and had put it aside even when she begged him. And now he as off gods knew where, doing Force knew what, and there was a feeling inside her stomach that she could not shake, a feeling that knew that he would not return. Not as he had left, not as the man he had been before the death of his friend shook him. Their pack, she knew down to the depths of her very bones though she feared to give it words, had shattered.

The Knights Obsidian had changed as well. It was frequently now that she avoided the majority of them, no longer feeling it in her heart that she sided with their view and goals. And yet… It was still a job, and it was still income. While both of her brothers were now away, it fell solely to Alwine's shoulders to provide. Not just for herself, but for the day they would return. For, pack or no pack, they would, in one shape or another, and then they would have to figure things out. But they would not fight to survive for their most basic of physical needs. She would see to that, even if it brought her to the brink of death.

Then had come the third thing. The morning she had woken up and knew it, in the most tangible of matters. And suddenly, her job did not seem so horrible anymore. There would be financial compensation for her kin. If nothing else, she would at least leave them with that much. The Lechners would never again have to struggle, not with the money she had both set aside and invested in insurance, and on top of that was what the Confederacy would give for the loss of one of their soldiers. But her brothers would no longer be cared for. Would it be such a change, though? Her heart beat as strong as it did, yet both had set it aside. And what was a wolf without her pack? Prey.

And still, the briefing had managed to somehow worry her. No, she knew that Crait would not be where she would die. But that did not mean she would have an easy time coming away from it. Epecially not when she would be working with the Mandragora, a group that she held complete mistrust for since the day she'd learned that the auflaque had been their leader, their Nightmother. What new group had now emerged, lacking her tainted touch, she did not know, and was uncertain that she willed it. Surely though, had this mission not come along, she would not have ventured forth to see.

She had landed close to where the Witches had, wasting no time in marching straight to where they had begun to gather. Alwine was nothing if not dutiful and practical, despite her wishes to sometimes be able to go against the harsh training she had received most of her life as he'd been groomed as a scullery maid, a cleaner, a servant. They had tried to cage a wolf. They had failed. Coming to stand by the women, clad in her Knights Obsidian armor, the petite blonde gave them a nod. And petite she was; Alwine stood at a mere five feet, and had to ensure her back was straight to reach the full potential of that height. Her blonde hair had been put into a thick braid at the back of her head, but her eyes… She could not hide those. Plain, brown, but full of curiosity and questioning, as she stared at the witches.

"Executor Alwine Lechner, reporting for duty," she said to them, pretending to not have heard that last bit about divination spells, but yes to the part after that. "By your permission, I have something that may help," she said as she removed the pouch from her belt. Vita Stones. Prior to leaving on this mission, she had shared her concerns with a woman she held dear in her heart. That woman had given them to her and told her to quiet her worries, because they were for naught. It had been a small moment, that she knew her brother would not wish to hear about. "These make away with spirits, I have been told," she explained, "they can be thrown in a circle to create a radius, if that is what is needed."
 
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Location: Former Resistance base, Crait​
Tag: [member="Damien Van-Derveld"] / Open​
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Though the CDF had been tasked with the repairs to the former Resistance base that the Confederacy had found on Crait, and her sisters had assumed their talents would be best used sorting out the reports of missing persons from the planets interior, Aisha assumed that her own abilities may be better suited to the reconstructive efforts.

She'd arrived with the first contingency of CDF members at the base, and had set to work. With the tech that they'd brought along, and some help from the nightsister, they'd made quick work of clearing a large portion of the debris before even the second regiment had landed. While the machinery didn't tire, unfortunately the raven-haired woman did - and after a time she retired from the ravine where the base was located and stepped into the blazing afternoon sun to take a break. She'd chosen to leave her normal velvet robes back at the citadel in favor of something a bit more appropriate for hard labor - but it left her feeling not herself and she tried to arrange herself and her pants on a rock in a bit of shade.

Thankfully it was a simple matter to regulate her own body temperature, but she did note that some of the other members of the repair crew were struggling with the heat. She wondered for a moment if she shouldn't offer to provide them with a bit of relief, but she also knew that she was the only member of the Mandragora that had agreed to come along to this portion of the planet's recovery effort. As much as it would be an attempt at kindness, she didn't want to give the appearance of flaunting her powers when many here weren't even able to commune with the Force.

Sighing softly and closing her eyes, the witch leaned back against the rock and tilted her head up towards the rocky outcrop that provided her a reprieve from the sun. She was unsure why it was that so many here seemed to fear her and her sisters... But with some goodwill work like this, perhaps in time they would come to be most accepting.

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Location: Crait Landing Zone
Objective: Lure and Subjugate Cranky Spirits
TAGS: [member="Vytal Noctura"], [member="Bedrovelse Hevn"], [member="Xobos Yakieer"], [member="Alwine Lechner"]


'Ah to be a Sorceress and let loose upon the smorgasbord of the crème de la crème!' Pom inhaled deeply upon the ramp as she reached out beyond herself and beyond their encampment. How she salivated at bringing back a few subjugated minions to fulfill her Will today! Oh, the sheer power behind the numbers available! To trap them within her amulets, and thus her very clutches! She plans to share; of course!

She sensed someone else unexpected. The happiness touched upon was just far too unbridled for the typical Mandragora. Pom tilted her head in amusement, and after spotting the little unexpected castaway, she approached. Over the head of little [member="Zak Dymo"] she raised her arms and wriggling her fingers pretended to puppeteer the little ghosty. How else would a Sorceress play with a child? She smiled and crouched down to the child's level.

"How would you like a very important task? One that will earn your name greatness?" Pom reached into her pocket and drew out a handful of self etched amulets. "These protect us by trapping the mean, scary ghosts. All you have to do is hang them around camp by their little strings."

If the child agreed to help, it would free Pom up for joining the incantations necessary. 'All we need now is a bonfire,' she thought, although those events are solely restricted to adults only; but the feeling of their purpose today, sparked the sense of nostalgia among the Witch nonetheless.

"By the way, what is your name? I am Pomsty," she greeted.
 

Kirk Tektus

Guest
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Location: Former Resistance base, Crait
Tags: [member="Aisha"]​
The Gauntlet was tasked with assisting the reclamation of the resistance base on Crait. Since Kirk was an officer with experience with tech and engineering, he was one of the primary officers responsible for the reclaiming the base. Tech and engineering droids were clearing the debris and Kirk was overlooking the operation while his XO Command Droid was the temporary commander of The Gauntlet. Kirk was also supposed to work with the night sisters who had offered assistance in this endeavor. He chose not to bother them unless they needed him for any task that could assist with. He didn't really wanna tempt anyone of the Mandragora.

As Kirk looked through his datapad reading through his information on the planet, one of the B1's approached him. "Sir we've almost cleared the debris and the command droids concluded the base is still structurally sound so we don't have to worry about the base collapsing on us."

"Oh... good." Kirk said as he put his datapad away. "How're the rest of the droids fairing?"

"Our power levels are still holding, though once we're done clearing the debris the worker droids might overheat."

"Alright, inform me once we've cleared the debris and then order the worker droids to cool their systems."

"Roger roger."

As the B1 walked away, Kirk turned to the edge of the ravine and saw the night sister resting on the rock outcrop. Kirk figured that it would be wise to inform her that they've made progress with the debris. Though she did seem like she didn't want to be disturbed. Then again she was still accounted for reclaiming this base so it was probably ideal that he inform her of their progress. Kirk adjusted his posture, put away his datapad, and walked to the nightsister. As he stood above her he cleared his throat and started to speak, "Excuse me ma'am, the crew have almost finished clearing the debris. My units have also concluded that the base is structurally sound and we're certain the base won't fall on our heads, I have my tech crew standing by."
 

Damien Van-Derveld

Guest
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w. [member="Kirk Tektus"] | [member="Aisha"]​
Life had been odd for Damien. His emergence into the Confederacy had only been a result of his reunion with a cousin, one he’d never truly known he’d had. Technically he was far older, because she had been from the future, but in years lived they had been close. Damien had been 18 when he met her, an arrogant wolf which had not changed much over the past couple of years. The Mandragora warrior had been absent from the coven for some time, identifying more with the notions his grandmother had raised him to believe on Dathomir. She had him convinced he was some dark side savior, one that would eventually lord over the nightsisters themselves. It had not gone over well on Dathomir, and had not gone well on Ryloth.

That was why Damien found himself aiding the construction efforts. His physique was certainly made for it, and Damien had the skill to help. One thing about being raised along nightbrothers was the sheer amount of construction they were required to do. Damien would not have been able to survive on Dathomir if he could not use tools to craft, build, or hunt. The heat was something else, however. The world was vicious in that regard, and soon Damien found himself wandering off from the group, hoping there was perhaps a place he could find water, or perhaps even change and let his wolf run wild.

His search found him interrupting a pair who seemed to be resting. One was in uniform the other... she looked as though she was having an issue with the heat as well. There was something about her which made her distinct. Damien canted his head as he tried to decide what it was. Finally he out his finger on it. There was something Dathomir about her. It was as obvious as the right of passage tattoos which peeked out from underneath the short sleeves of his t-shirt.

“Well then get them to work,” Damien said to the man in uniform as he approached the pair. “As you can see the nightsister is resting, so, let her rest.”

it was rude, but Damien was rarely not.
 
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Location: A few miles away from the commotion, where the ground makes way for canyons
Wearing: Armor | Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: 10 Nozhi Blades | 10 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 TOTT-001 Arc Light Blaster | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets
Tags: [member="Kerstan Blackmoore"] | open
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Scherezade smiled as she looked at the crunching salt beneath her boots. White over red. Wasn't it usually the other way around? If she closed her eyes, she could pretend it was snow, though it lacked the softness that real snow often had. More like gritty, coarse. Sand would probably have been a better word to use, though even then it would not have exactly described it. She'd been surprised that she even found a random spot where the salt was so thin that she could see the ground. If her datafiles were anything to be believed, it was a rare thing indeed.

Looking back to where she knew most of the Confederates were, the Sithling sighed. She could have been there with them, weapons out, slashing a bunch of ghosts into ghost-sushi. But for a change, she had not wanted to. The Minister had instead sent her out to scout, seeing as while they knew about the ghosts, it was perfectly viable that they would run across different kinds of enemies as well, and those that would come from a bigger distance on the ground, at least in this direction, were now Scherezade's headache to deal with. So far though, there had been nothing other than isolation in nearly endless fields of white.

She could sense movement though. Not too far away. Whatever it was that was there, she did not recognize its scent.

Sighing, she crouched down and put a hand to the ground to make sure she was sensing the vibrations in the correct direction. At least this was distraction. Too many Thoughts™ had been crowding her mind as of late, and it seemed that no matter to how many missions she'd been escaping to lately, nothing eased it down. Half the time she wasn't even certain anymore that they were entirely hers, but echoes from times that she wanted to lave behind her, sometimes with only marginal success, oftentimes with failure.

And still her blades remained sharp, her mind focused on what lay ahead. To stab and kill was what she knew. Was what she breathed for. What else was she, if she did not leave a trail of dead wherever she went?

Another sigh, and Scherezade looked to the direction from which she could feel the movements. A cavern entrance, not too far away.

Would she venture in?
 
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Location: Former Resistance base, Crait​
Tags: [member="Kirk Tektus"] | [member="Damien Van-Derveld"] | Open​
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It seemed to her only a moment that she'd been allowed to enjoy the silence and the shade when an unfamiliar voice broke the peace. Pallid lids slid open and eyes the colour of liquid amber fixated on the young captain before her. As her chin slowly lowered and long strands of black hair slithered across her shoulders to compensate for the change in angle, the witch offered the stranger a gentle smile. Her lips parted as though she meant to speak, one hand rising to offer the man a handshake - but both gestures were cut short as another voice cut her off.

Those warm eyes shot immediately to the figure who approached the pair, noting that this new comer seemed far more interested in herself than the captain, immediately dismissing the man as he wandered closer. It took a good deal more willpower than the woman would admit not to laugh outwardly as he came to stand with them, finally finding an opportunity to speak as she regarded Damien, "Please, there's no reason to send him away so soo-." The words died in her mouth as her eyes came to rest on the tattoos that peeked around the edges of his collar.

Both brows rose as her head took a gentle tilt and instead she turned her eerie gaze back to Kirk, that brilliant smile still plastered in place as she spoke, "You'll have to excuse my brother for his rudeness, young man." Her right hand rose, palm facing the ground and fingers pointed as though she meant for the captain to take her hand in a manner that better suited royalty. "I'm sure he meant no offense." She shot the nightbrother a look that suggested she expected something of him, though she didn't seem keen to explain what that might be.

Whether Kirk took her hand or not, the witch carefully lifted herself from her spot in the shade and extended her left palm towards the man. He'd find himself immediately more comfortable despite the heat, a cool breeze slithering across his skin so long as he chose to remain in her presence. With that taken care of, she motioned towards Damien as well, suggesting he come closer. "Come. Join us, brother. My name is Aisha - and I think we'd both benefit from hearing what this young man has to say about their progress repairing the base, don't you?" She gave them both another of her sweet smiles - and left both wondering why it was she was acting so matronly when there was a good chance she was younger than both.

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Kirk Tektus

Guest
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[member="Damien Van-Derveld"] [member="Aisha"]​
Kirk took Aisha's hand and shook it. "Forgive me ma'am for showing up unannounced." He then followed her when she got up. "The droids are going to do a sweep of the area and then I'll try to get the systems running." As he continued behind them his B1 walked up to him. "We just finished the removal sir and the entrance is clear. Should we clear it out?"

"Yes, assemble a squad and we'll clear out the base, see how the base is fairing."

"Roger roger." The droid said and walked to the crowd of armed B1's. "Excuse me please I need to check if the base's mainframe still works." He then rushed after the B1 and stood before his droid squad. "Our current task is to secure the control room and see what we're looking at. Be careful not to bump into any of the walls, that base isn't really structurally sound. Any questions?"

There was silence among the droids. "Alright let's move out." Kirk said as he lead the droids into the base. The lights were off, that was to be expected. "Sergeant, see if you can find an auxiliary generator. The rest of you come with me to the control room." Kirk delegated his droids and then drew his blaster. The droids fanned out around the control room. The auxiliary generator was powered on and Kirk was at the main terminal looking over the systems. Everything seemed operational but damn was everything slow. This software and hardware were 800 years old, it might a long while to replace the systems with the current Confederacy Military Software. But it was still achievable nonetheless. On top of that a lot of the bases components were out of date according to the systems he was looking at, that was just a given. They needed a map of the base in order to get a better idea of where everything is. He ordered his tech droids to see if they can pull up the holo schematics of the base. Once it popped up, Kirk saved a copy to his datapad. It ran properly and worked well.

He exited the base to inform the two Mandragora members. He was pacing himself thinking of how to explain the situation without being too technical. It didn't really take him long before he approached him. "I'm going to be brief, to say 800 years have not been kind to this base is an understatement. We need to do a lot of renovations and repairs. The software is outdated and some of the systems aren't even functioning properly. But in order to get an idea of what we really need to get done, we have to explore the rest of the base." He then stopped to realize he started to sound like his younger self when he did tech support on Naboo. "And given the fact that the whole structure has been buried, some areas may not be structurally sound. Getting this place up to speed will take a while."
 

Kerstan Blackmoore

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w. [member="Scherezade deWinter"]​
Crait was a marvel in itself. The world boasted an aesthetic which had caught Kertan's eye right away. He liked fine things, as much was evident in his creations. Of course there was only one successful living work over centuries of trying, but she was perfection. She was his weakness. In truth everything Kerstan now did was a result of trying to create more. He had perfected both lust and death in her creation, could he now perfect chaos and destruction. Carnage was on his mind, devastating those who would dare keep him from ruling his father's kingdom. The Induparan Crown Worlds were his by birthright, and even though his father still lived, Kerstan had been denied the throne he had been born to fill. His mind was set, and his heart determined. [member="Áine"] would help him, but Kerstan still needed an army, an army he would create for himself.

That was why he found himself on Crait. The crystalline creatures of the world were magnificent and resilient. Perhaps their DNA would hold the key to the breakthrough he had long been working hard to achieve. His funding was set. Force knew he had seduced and tricked many a plump and gullible woman of their husband's fortunes for his ventures. Now was the time to collect samples, and experiment. His labs on Yavin VIII were active once again, and they would not be shut down this time, because success would mean expanded production.

His eyes stumbled across a cavern, the perfect place to find the foxlike creatures he was searching for. Instead there was a woman, standing there. Was she deciding to enter? Kerstan sensed something of her, a darkness, but not the one he was used to from the force. This darkness was deep and ancient. He was curious. Kerstan had beguiled many, this woman would not be his last. A snakelike grin tugged at his lips as he approached and let his silver tongue do what it did best.

"I would think there is something of interest inside the cavern. Perhaps you will join me as I venture in?"
 
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Location: A few miles away from the commotion, where the ground makes way for canyons
Wearing: Armor | Pathfinder Boots | The Forgemaster's Ring | Ring of Stasis | Sofitor
Wielding: 10 Nozhi Blades | 10 Czerka knives | 2 Nastirci Combat Knives | Copero's Wail | Fire and Smoke (lightsabers) | Combat Gauntlets | Knight Obsidian Sword | 2 TOTT-001 Arc Light Blaster | 2 Dissuader K-30 Pistols with Glitter Bullets
Tags: [member="Kerstan Blackmoore"] | open

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Her mind had not been on her surroundings anymore. Not the ones to her back, anyway. All her attention had been focused on the entrance to the cave, wondering what it was that was hiding on the inside. Canine? The undertones certainly smelled like it, but what else? She wished she'd taken the time to read the briefing she'd received more thoroughly, but the idea of just showing to take down potential enemies rarely required deep focus. It was always send the Blood Hound here, take the Sithling there, kill kill, destroy destroy, let it ran chaos and destruction. That was, after all, what most thought she was good for.

When the man spoke, Scherezade jumped, her quick surprise turning even faster into anger that she hadn't even sensed him walk up to her. Already knives slid to her hands, ready to cut all his major arteries to shreds and pieces in a way that not even Force Healing could repair before he bled out.

Instead of being a threat though, he offered her to explore it with him. Scherezade paused, though she still did not let go of her knife. There was something about him… She knew she'd not seen his face before. It was a face that she would not have forgotten. And yet he seemed so familiar… She searched her memories, both those that belonged just to her, as well as those that belonged to her grandmother, but if something within them was there, she was not catching it.

"There are animals inside the cave," she said carefully, still looking at him, "canines, if I'm any judge. But nothing I've seen or scented before."

Then of course, there was that offer.

Scherezade nodded, putting her knives back where they belonged. "Pathfinder Scherezade deWinter," she introduced herself, "who are you?"
 
"You have to follow your own path."
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[member="Kirk Tektus"] @Aisha@Damien Van-Derveld
When Asher had been approached with talks of coming to Crait, he hoped it was because the world could serve as a testing site for some of his more...volatile works. In the end the Confederacy had wanted him to design the defense layout for this new outpost they were crafting. It wasn't really what he had in mind, however he could use this to bring himself deeper into The Confederacy's good graces.

His shuttle landed on a plateau not far from the ancient Resistance base. The moment he set foot on the planet, a small metallic band on his wrist became illuminated in a blue hexagonal pattern. "Good Morning, Asher." A young masculine voice spoke from the band, with a rather chipper tone.

"D.E.L.T.A., did you finish running those simulations?" Asher asked, glancing down at his wrist.

There was the briefest of pauses before a soft chime came from the device.

"Just did!" The AI voice beamed.

Asher's lips turned into a small smile before the holoprojector on the side of the band came to life. He watched as an orange figure appeared before him. A young boy who appeared to be sitting at a table, playing a game of pazaak. He had curly hair and wore a suit, much like Asher's. Except where Asher's suit was black, the boy's seemed to be a lighter shade, though it was hard to tell through the hologram. Asher tapped the side of his device, setting D.E.L.T.A. back into rest mode. He wouldn't need the AI for what he was doing today, at least not yet. He made his way towards the resistance base, gazing up at work that was being done. A number of excavation droids were moving about, trying to clear the debris from the base. The only sentient lifeforms that Asher could even see was a small group waiting for the rest to be cleared. He glanced over to them with his one good eye, taking a look but not bothering to say anything for the time being. He'd let them have their conversation in peace while he looked over the base's exterior.
 
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Location: Rebel Base Entrance
Objective: Find stuff, fix stuff
Peps: [member="Kirk Tektus"] [member="Damien Van-Derveld"] [member="Aisha"]

"Seems like this place hasn't changed much", then again why would it. If a planet like Tatooine was still much the same over the past 4000 years why would this salt covered planet change in a mere 800. At the very least it gave conformation that the place still contained enough equipment to become operational again even if most were very obsolete. Nothing was more annoying then getting into an old military complex to only find the entire place was stripped of anything useful, at that point it was just easier to construct a new outpost from scratch then trying to replace all the stolen machines.

For the time being she had lent her use of the force to help clear away much of the rubble strewn around the area along with some personal experiences with technology from her youth. Though the droid and others had seasoned knowledge on how to work the ancient computers some personal flare and odd tricks was something they may have lacked. At the end of the day this little experience served more as a walk down memory lane, a time when things were more simpler. Big bad empire, rebel fighters, restore the republic, non of the multi-factional empires and smaller groups that constantly battled for power these days.

So far nothing had happed of great importance, the women casually tagging along with the man called Kirk Tektus and the assortment of droids, her ears taking in the small run down about the state of the base. "For once time is a luxury we have, another problem will be compatibility, doubt any of them would sync well up with the gear we brought". "Just getting some of these machines up and running again my take a bit of messing around, and jerry rigging until a more permanent system can be established".
 
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https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sOnqjkJTMaA​
Location: Crait Landing Zone
Gear: Medpac | Comlink | Headphones | Lightsaber
Tags: [member="Vytal Noctura"] | [member="Xobos Yakieer"] | [member="Pom Stych Tivé"] | Mandragora

The necromancer had appeared!

Wait, were girls necromancers? Necromantress? Whatever the proper terminology may, or may not, have been, a woman pantomimed controlling the small, sheet-covered spectre. By this point, Zak's ghostly form had a good bit of salt clinging to it, causing his haunting form to sparkle and shine as he bounced about.

"How would you like a very important task? One that will earn your name greatness?"

A quest? An adventure? A mission? When she said that it was an important task, just what kind of payout where they talking here? A good job? A sticker? Gold stars?

Gold stars were not to be undervalued. If you got three gold stars in a week at school, that was good for an extra snack at snack time. An extra snack. The only thing better would be some extra time at recess, but that wasn't going to happen -- unless it was one of the days that they had a substitute. Except their substitutes tended to be retired nightmothers who were really boring and lethal with a ruler.

Throwing his arms up, the sheet was cast aside to reveal the green-skinned Nautolan in the skeleton costume underneath. "Aaaaaadventure time!" the boy chirped brightly, and at a volume that was decidedly not in the category of inside voices.

The woman handed him some runic carvings suspended on a string. "All you have to do is hang them around camp by their little strings," the lady explained.

The child's large, black abyssal eyes reflected the image of the amulets, as the boy looked down at the objects in his hand. Then, looking up at the women, gave an enthusiastic nod of his head before he gave an affirmative, "Okay!"

"By the way, what is your name? I am Pomsty."

"Hi!" the youngling greeted the nightsister brightly, the stubby tendrils swinging back and forth about his head. "I'm Zak."
 

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