Sand Sans Lane (First Order Dominion of Praesitlyn, N-49)

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Objective: BYOO - Mission Improbable
Jakora Royale Hotel

The illegal trafficking of arms was a major business.

While a few manufacturers were surprisingly loyal to their company values, only selling to one particular geo-political faction across the galactic landscape, the majority traded freely to all sides of the unfolding conflict between the First Order, the Sith Empire, and pretty much the rest of the known galaxy.

The illicit sale of arms was estimated to bring in about 800 billion credits annually, with about 60 billion in small arms alone. So even without dealing in walkers or starfighters, there was a decent amount of credits to be made off just the handheld stuff.

Kor Vaiya, whatever his actual name name may have been, was a middle man. He didn't have the weapons, he had the means of transporting them from Point A to Point B. That was his specialty, navigating the red tape surrounding embargoes and customs inspections and then skirting them both so that the merchandise arrived where it needed to.

The First Order Security Bureau didn't have any concrete proof of this, of course. If they did, he'd be dead already. But the circumstantial evidence was starting to stack up, and the FOSB dossier on Kor Vaiya managed to connect a lot of dots even while being remarkably thin.

So the task before him was really two different questions. One, who was Kor Vaiya's contact at this meeting? Two, how was Kor Vaiya going to bypass the First Order's border security?

The Atrisian boy had ditched the sky-cab a block away. It would look as though a malfunctioning repulsor had caused the cab to make a hand landing in a drainage ditch. The driver's side was submerged in water, the bruises on the driver's head and face consisted with blunt trauma from a crash.

The child passed through the doors of the hotel. No one even looked twice at the sight of a youngling moving through the hotel lobby. He cut down the left side, venturing down a hall. A maid-droid was pushing a linen cart, pausing to pick up an armload of fresh linens and duck into a room. Coming around the cart, the child's dark eyes prowled for passers-by. There were a handful about, but each seemed absorbed in their own goings on. And the droid was just starting to turn down the bed.

Rifling through the linen cart out in the hall, the child came up with a small datapad. The listing of rooms waiting for service. Several were annotated as having new arrivals checking into them.

Only one of those was checking out tomorrow.

That would be his Duros. Room 412.

Leaving the datapad on the cart, the child drifted away. Winding his way up through the hotel proper, the boy arrived on the fourth floor. As the lift doors opened, the child found himself staring up at a blue-skinned Duros with red eyes.

The two passed without so much as a word. Tao stepping out of the lift and Kor Vaiya stepping in. For a moment, the youngling debated what he should do. Should he follow? He might lose the target. Especially if there was nothing in the room to indicate just where the Duros was going.

One step became two. Two became three. In short order, the boy had arrived at the door to Room 412. Right or wrong, he was committed at this point. And now he knew that the room was unoccupied. He might not get a better chance than this.

The lock was a simple 12 vector cipher. With a muted click, the locking mechanism disengaged and the young spy stepped inside. Closing the door behind him, the boy slipped inside. The Duros' suitcase was resting on top of the bed.

Examining the locks on the luggage for a moment, the boy opened the case and began rifling through the contents.

He found a Blurrg-1120 concealed inside of a sensor-reflective sheath that looked professionally made.

Well, if this was going to be on-site procurement, at least that was a start...

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Praetorian Initiate
Objective II
Equipment | FO-07K Multi-purpose Assault Armour with Repulsorlift Technology, Vibrodaggers, Lightsaber & Training Lightsaber, DE-39 Maser Rifle, Throwing Knives, Binding Wires, Injector Pens filled with Lecepanine, C-25 Fragmentation Grenades
Location | Camp Banque, Near the Valley of Tombs, Praesitlyn
Allies | First Order, [member="Eighth Guard"], [member="Primat Ren"], [member="Konstantin Makarev"], The Major
Unknown | [member="Martin Shepard"]
Status | There better not be a boulder trap so early into this adventure

[SIZE=11pt]“Mhm! The knight,” she echoed Primat’s words back at him with added emphasis, as though it answered everything. And to her, it did. Well, even after all their time together, the young blonde has yet to receive a proper name from the crimson knight. Marriskcal suspected it was part of the praetorian indoctrination process, but she had never thought to ask and the older male has never illuminated her as to its possibility. After all, even if she had to discard her sense of self to serve the Supreme Leader, it would be something she embraced without a thought.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]In her clear eagerness to both explore the maze of tombs, as well as to track down her mentor, the initiate remained several steps ahead of Primat. With a swivel of her feet, Marriskcal turned to face her brunette brother, her hands clasped behind her back as she continue her progress while walking backwards. She did not question her brother on his decision not to fully engage the armour, but the lack of the helmet did allow her to discern his emotions all the more easily. While it was not particularly easy for her to grasp what exactly it was Primat was feeling, she has the advantage of being familiar with the other, and he seemed to be both pleased and… distracted?[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]But despite her innate curiousity, the young blonde made the decision to allow Primat to speak on his own time. She turned back to face the valley, her eyes gazing across the long stretch of roughly hewn rock that featured a variety of narrow entrances and eroded pillars. Now, where was the knight? It was almost like a game of hide and seek combined with tracking. Marriskcal knew that her mentor could not have wandered too far in just yet. She expanded her force senses until its edges made contact with the Praetorian Guard’s own aura. With a pleased grin, she allowed her senses to fall away, until there was only a tendril connecting the both of them.

“This way, Primat. I think he has entered using one of the larger entrances.” Realisation dawned. Marriskcal paused and looked down at herself, before turning her focus of her attention on her older brother’s own larger frame.

Oh. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“If you even think of asking me to crawl into the smaller places to reach for something, I will kick you in the shins when we get back.” With her threat delivered, the young blonde picked the widest point of entry, and hoped that it was lead them to the knight sooner rather than later.[/SIZE]

 

[Varian Alaric]

Location| Camp Banque, Near the Valley of Tombs, Praesitlyn
Objective| II
Allies| [member="Marriskcal Lati"] | [member="Eighth Guard"]
Enemies| Unknown

Equipment| 2x Lightsabers (crimson), Multi-purpose Assault Armor(Without Helmet)
Status| Determined

Primat shook his head in annoyance at Marriskcal's response. She was just repeating what he said now, and he didn't have a clue as to why she was doing so. All he truly knew about 'the Knight,' was that he was praetorian and that he had challenged and personally fought against Kyrel back on Virgillia. He wasn't even sure if the Knight was human or not, he knew he was male by the sound of his voice...though that was all he knew about the Knight. However, Primat had begun to notice that Marr liked hanging around and talking to the Knight recently. If Marr liked talking with the Knight, he naturally assumed that he himself would possibly enjoy talking with the Knight. If Marr enjoys talking with and being in the presence of the 'Knight,' then I shouldn't have much of a problem with him.Though, if rumor were true, the Knight never really talked much. Something that Primat found hard to believe.

Marr was very much an extrovert, and she talked constantly. Not that it annoyed Primat any, in fact he enjoyed how outgoing and talkative she was...being a comforting and enjoyable presence for Primat to be around. Though...if the Knight barely ever talked, he didn't have any clue for how the two got along.

Though, Primat assumed he would find this out soon enough anyways.

Primat's glacier blue eyes glanced towards the small figure of Marriskcal as she began to speak. He couldn't help but laugh loudly as she mentioned that she'd kick him in the shins if he made her crawl into a small space. It was nice hanging out with Marr again, he missed her presence and her generally care-free and peaceful attitude. He quickly followed behind her, dropping down through the gaping hole after she went inside. Before the pair continued, however, Primat stopped Marr momentarily by speaking to her. "Marr, I was wondering if you could help me with something. Now, it may involve you getting into small space so I'm sorry in advance. But uh...I was thinking of finding something for Varas here. And was wondering if you could help me with this." Luckily, he had already told Marr about his crush on Varas so he could talk openly with her about it when the two were in private. He was still taking a risk with asking her for help, though he felt like Marriskcal would help him with this. He had counted on her before, their was no reason for him to think that she wouldn't help him again.

 

[Progflaw99]

Location: Praesitlyn, Valley of Tombs
Objective: Explore Ruins, Discover Artifacts​

​

The heat of the sun was foremost on the Almanian native's mind. Back home there was nothing like it, bright rays rendering his vision sub par at best, the oppressive heat creating more perspiration than the man would have liked. By the time he reached the coordinates his brow was slick with sweat, the covering he wore on his head damp. Cresting the next dune, a smile cracked across his face as his eyes set themselves on the picturesque landscape below. What had once been mere sand was now a valley, the distinct corners of structures visible against the shifting sand. He took a moment to remove the veil across his face, breathing in deeply.

*Arrived at last.* A sigh of relief slouched the younger Shepard's shoulders as his feet set to purpose again, carefully descending the dunes. It took him several minutes to arrive at the base, the wind sending grains of sand whipping roughly against his face - until he remembered to cover it again. Once arrived, he began to set up a small base camp, staking down a small canvas for shade and arranging his equipment. Soon enough he'd be ready to embark into the ruins themselves, into the tombs - but with the interior unknown he wanted to be sure he was prepared.

[member="Konstantin Makarev"] | [member="Lionel Lovejoy"] | [member="The Major"]​

 

[Leskie Tomiet]

Location: Aboard the FIV Oculas
Objective: 3
Nearby: [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Atlas Viridian"] | [member="Kira Vaal"] | [member="Petra Vitalis"]

The Dark Sider on their bridge gave the shivers. She'd been around Jedi before but never their counter parts. An aura of menace came from the masked, armoured figure. One that made her and her colleagues deeply uneasy. She'd remained at her station, listening to communication and potential unexpected traffic. The Galactic Alliance may finally have been crushed but its supporters still roamed these parts of their former space. Her job was to stay alert and composed and no sinister men were going to distract her from doing it capably.

Leskie had been impressed with their commanding officer's nerve until now. The masked man was clearly not the type who was easy to stand up to but he had held his own. A compromise settling over between the ship crew and Dark Sider that he could remain but keep his head down. Until now. With the shuttle Diomedes approved for landing, the man seemed... paranoid? To most it would be paranoid but these people, the ones with the Force, had odd insights. Ones the woman could never understand. He ordered Stormtroopers to greet the shuttle and the ships crew glanced at one another, Leskie's eyes meeting a frowning blond man to her right.

"We don't have many of them around..." the Captain admitted. "We're just a small vessel, the Stormtroopers are stretched thin to enforce our claims on the region. They haven't the time to patrol every ship in the fleet." He pointed his finger at Leskie and then at a man monitoring engine heat. "Tomiet, Jythom, take a squad and do as our guest has requested."

"Yes, captain," she nodded and rose to her feet, marching to the doorway beside Jythom. She cast one look back at the bridge, briefly gazing into the mask of the Dark Sider. It felt... hopeless. Leskie had to avert her eyes. "Let's move," she muttered to the other crew member.

---

Shuttle Diomedes would find a modest crew waiting for them. Leskie stood to the side, pistol holstered to her belt, arms crossed behind her back and feet apart waiting to greet the shuttle crew. She couldn't help but remember the last time something like this had happened. She'd escorted Imperials who had turned out to be Galactic Alliance spies. The memory made her grimace. Hopefully things would turn out better this time

 

[Progflaw99]

En Route to the FIV Oculus | Valor-class Frigate
Refurbished First Order Border Outpost Shuttle
Squad: [member="Petra Vitalis"] | [member="Kira Vaal"] | @The Rebellion
First Order: [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Leskie Tomiet"]

Several minutes later the hull of the Oculus came into view, Atlas' response to Kira's question less than positive. Shaken would be a good word to describe what he was feeling. This was by far the most direct action they'd taken, or at least, visible. The reward for succeeding was significant, the penalty for failure... He couldn't fathom. It wouldn't be an enjoyable time, that much he was certain of.

From the rear of the cockpit he could hear the voice of Petra, her faith in her friends sending the corners of his lips upward. Atlas guided the shuttle ever closer as the frigate began to fill the viewscreen. Soon they'd be close enough to start the landing sequence. According to the flight plan, the Valor-class only had one hangar. Only for launches and shuttles at that. Atlas could see the external mountings as they approached, TIE interceptors hanging like wasps from a nest. He was glad they weren't facing them in a fighter - though he would have liked to have a bit more firepower at his disposal if things did go South.

Thankfully for the pilot and the rest of the rebels aboard, things seemed to be going smoothly. The final checks completed, he initialized the landing sequence and prepared for their arrival.

"If you've got any last second doubts, now would be the time." ​

​

He knew there wouldn't be any, at least not voiced. They were in it now - only way out was through. Standing as he prepared to head to the back ramp Atlas straightened out the uniform and slipped on the black leather gloves. As a joke, he raised an eyebrow in Petra's direction.

"Hail Sieger!"​

​

Atlas meant to keep a straight face but instead a chuckle escaped, the serious expression fading. He was nervous but the presence of his friends helped keep him grounded.

"Well, I'm sure they'll have a greeting party. You lot ready?"​

 

[Kira Vaal]

The FIV Oculus
Squad: [member="Atlas Viridian"] | [member="Petra Vitalis"] | @The Rebellion
First Order: [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Leskie Tomiet"]

If there was one thing that Kira had to give the First Order it was that their design ethos never truly changed. The Oculus, like any other ship of the First Order fleet was an impressive beast, even though small in comparison to say the Destroyers that consistently were the front-line of the ever expanding Imperial border.

She released a long drawn out breath and began to answer the small, yet nearly un-noticeable code requests currently streaming from the ship towards their shuttle. There were no need for words, this was automated checks, ran by First Order sensors and potentially under-paid mechanics. A series of coded messages were sent and before long, after what felt like forever the green light was sent through to the shuttle.

Kira gave a thumbs up to Atlas.

Then she felt it.

The darkness, the savagery and the twisted soul seemingly peering out looking for something, anything it could see. “Crap.” She muttered and assured that mentally she was as focused on the task as possible. It wouldn’t be able to see her, she knew that. She had spent too long hiding, too long assuring that she, an un-willing Jedi couldn’t be traced by the what-ever-it-was that gave her power. However the presence of such a being meant this task was going to be harder then necessary.

Speaking of harder then necessary.

“Stormtroopers?” Kira got a look at the ‘welcoming party’ as the shuttle was enclosed within the hanger. While not unheard of, having stormtroopers on deck was usually a sign that something was suspected by the captain of the ship. “It’s just because we weren’t properly scheduled, papers will put them at ease.” It was said mostly for Kira’s own mind, to put her slightly more at ease.

The hissing of the access ramp was the last noise they would hear within the shuttle, and after assuring that weapons were holstered and uniforms straight the team began to head down the ramp and towards the highly black polished floors of the ships hanger, Kira already assuring that the documents, the ones that would either seal their dooms or give them their next chance were in her hands.

 

[Eighth Guard]

​

​

The Eighth Guard, Praetorian Knight​

Equipment: Bilari Swordwhip - Praetorian Armour​

Location: Praesitlyn, Camp Banque​

Status: Objective II - Relic Hunt​

Theme: Kylo Ren Arrives | Battlefront 2​

​

​

​

The crimson-clad Praetorian entered the tomb with several of the sandtroopers he had brought trailing behind him, shining the flashlights attached to their blasters onto the foreign walls composed of limestone and granite. The group walked up to the first doorway of the tomb, unopened still as evident by the massive slab of stone blocking their route and the men still working on dusting off the symbols chiselled onto it. The Eighth Guard approached it, prompting two of the troopers to take up position on either side of the door, and placed his gloved fingertips on the mechanism, reaching out with the Force as he attempted to comprehend the writings.

Tik edoui kash jena'tes galez dalyva

Only those in darkness may enter.

He recognized the language quite well, it was ancient Sith; something that was used quite extensively millennia ago, now reduced to something only learned due to tradition by some Sith Lords for use in forgotten rituals. The Praetorian understood completely what this place was, it was a Sith tomb no doubt. He withdrew his hand and focused on the Dark Side of the Force, on His will, in an attempt to open the door. Several seconds passed before the structure began vibrating slightly, the entrance sliding down and revealing a dark corridor that the sandtroopers quickly entered to secure the area.

The strangest thing happened the deeper the Eighth Guard walked into the tomb - he could hear something, whispers of someone close by, yet nobody was speaking. He did his best to shrug it off, lest he succumbed to madness on this expedition. After a few minutes, they came up to another chamber, equal in size to the previous one yet somehow different. This time, the markings on the wall were clearly visible to the Praetorian Knight. It was in Sith again, and soon enough he strung together the next sentence.

Tik edoui kuris aukotis esencija galez dalyva

Only those who sacrifice essence may enter.

The man had a difficult time figuring out what the script meant by 'essence' until he noticed something crudely scratched off to the side. It was a drawing of a blade, prompting him to realize what it meant. The sergeant accompanying him must have made out the drawing too, for when the Eighth Guard raised an open hand towards him, the sandtrooper unsheathed his combat knife and gave it to him without hesitation.

Eight pulled back one of his gloves, exposing the flesh beneath it, and prepared to slice open his own hand.

[member="Marriskcal Lati"] | [member="Primat Ren"]​

 

[Seto du Couteau]

Location: Attempting to break into Headquarters
Objective: 1, Located and Subdue Rumored Jedi
Equipment: FO-07K Multi-purpose Assault Armor
Allies: [member="Racosidae"] (Nearby) First Order

​

Another desert, and more blaster bolts fired overhead, honestly Seto simply took solace in the fact that at least they weren't outnumbered to a ridiculous degree. But, doesn't exactly lift up many spirits He grumbled as he kept himself low and behind a small dune of sand. A more suicidal thought snaked its way into Seto's head, but reasonable cowardice prevailed and he chose to remain low instead of ignited his sabers and charging forward.

Of course, this would no doubt direct all fire and attention towards his way and in effect give the rest of the First Order forces a chance to advance forward. As more blaster bolts and some slugs flew overhead, Seto inclined to his previous judgement about remaining not the focus of enemy fire. As several troopers lobbed smoke grenades a small plan formed in Seto's head.

A trio of Stormtroopers had landed near Seto, taking cover they each gave glances over towards the Ren. "Throw your smokes, I'll do the rest." Seto ordered, with a nod the three troopers unpinned and chucked their smoke grenades as far as they could at the enemy.

Seto concentrated on The Force and grasped the three smoke grenades and continued to push them to land in a few nests of heavy blaster weapon teams. He slowly climbed out from his cover and held both sabers in his hands, each ignited as he tried his best to run across the shifting sands. Randomly aimed blaster bolts were harmlessly deflected with a simple deflection and many were wildly off the mark as Seto continued to run almost unhindered.

Almost. The key word, as Seto practically could hear the crazed shouts and orders about moving their position away from the smoke. Seto nearly realized his mistake too late as he threw hands below him and summoned the Force to shield him from an explosion that erupted beneath him. Either because of his armor or his quick reflexes Seto found himself sailing up in the air for only a few seconds before landing next to what he could guess was a wall of some sort.

Seto considered that maybe this might be his worst desert mission.

 

[Mellifluous Magenta]

Thrall Chandana Kay
Post 1
Objective: 1
Location: Drop Zone
Equipment: F-11D Blaster Rifle, Hekler’Kok LA-1 Light Armor, Black Balaclava, NADIR P-SERIES Combat Knife, Vibroblade w/ Mono-molecular Edge, 2 Smoke Grenades
Allies: [member="Racosidae"] and [member="Seto Du Couteau"]

Among the teeming masses of under-qualified, grotesquely alien, yet thoroughly determined auxiliary soldiers, there stood one soldier who was just as under-qualified, determined, and arguably alien as the others, but could hardly be seen because of her pathetically short stature. Had it not been for the black balaclava which covered the mop of pink dyed hair atop her head, she would have been at least a little more distinct among the group of soldiers, but that would not have been a wise idea in a combat zone where her best chance of survival laid in anonymity.

As she laid on her stomach in the midst of the designated killing zone, for the first time in her young life, Chandana Kay bore witness to the chaos, desperation, and brutality of war, with it's high-pitched screams, ear-shattering bangs, and rivers of sand and mud which seemed to be just as determined to foul the F-11D in her hands as the First Order was to capture the compound. For a brief moment, the entrapping sensation of fear and terror overtook her nerves, which would have frozen her in place had she not been shot at multiple times in training. Although her training had been quick and brutal, it at least taught her how not to ruin her clothes while getting shot at.

Taking extra care to keep her weapon out of the sand, the diminutive Bimm crawled forward as quickly as she could, taking solace in seeing that a few others had gotten the same idea, including one of the laser-sword and magic-wielding disciples ([member="Racosidae"]) of the mysterious order.

Truly no one, not even a witch, was above crawling through the mud when blue-and-green-laser death was flying only a few inches above.

However, Chandana did not move without an initial objective, at least. Her first goal was a wall-like boulder, which she anticipated would provide serviceable cover against the barrage of blaster bolts flying overhead and a position from which she could briefly return fire. When she was only a few meters away from the boulder, Chandana broke into a sprint and slammed herself behind the protective cover of the obstruction. Once she was safely behind the cover, Chandana haphazardly wiped the gunk off of her rifle, knowing that it could still operate up to standard, even in these conditions. Then, with little more than a breath, Chandana leaned out of cover while only presenting her upper torso and head to the enemy as a viable target. However, they would hardly have a chance to fire upon her, since without delay, the diminutive auxiliary aimed and fired six shots from her rifle at what appeared to be one of the many origin points of the heavy blaster fire.

Just as she leaned back into cover, she registered the distinctive thud of a falling body ([member="Seto Du Couteau"]) as it landed immediately adjacent to her, against the unforgiving and dense wall of the boulder.

Presumably, when the armored figure looked up, he would notice the stunned and dumbfounded expression of a diminutive auxiliary staring straight into his eyes.

If even witches and knights were sent flying and cowering against this threat, then what were they truly up against?

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Location: The FIV Oculus
Objective: Investigate the shuttle
Equipment: Raiment of the Vigilant, Vader's Bane Lightsaber
First Order: [member="Leskie Tomiet"]
The Rebellion: [member="Kira Vaal"] [member="Atlas Viridian"] [member="Petra Vitalis"]

Kyrel's talents in the dark side was often better used in situations that required more of his aid. Let be hunting down those of the New Jedi Order, who had escaped the purge that was enacted during Operation Endgame. Yet he was here protecting a frigate from the work of Rebels, or at least of suspected Rebels that wouldn't dare try to attack, or attempt anything. Perhaps against the Sith, but to even dare against the First Order. That was perhaps insane, at least insane at least to him. The First Order was more organized, stronger than the Sith were, having grown from the lawlessness that was the Unknown Regions, and spreading across both the Outer Rim, and Western Reaches. Kyrel eagerly wished to be of more use, than just to be used as an escort. But all craft heading to Praesitlyn was vital, in order to secure the latest conquest. Kyrel before stepping out of the bridge stared at the face. The one whom he could recall was the one known as Leskie Tomiet. A woman who he had read served well during the Alliance second attempt of trying to take the Anoat Sector. He only stared back coldly, through the expressionless face of his mask, the sound of the respirator filling oxygen into the suit, lowly droned perhaps sending a chill up her spine, before walking out.

The frigate was not filled with a compliment of Stormtroopers, for such a purpose Kyrel had brought his own squad. He marched straight forward, the disturbance in the Force growing stronger, he felt something, someone that his senses could pick up. Either it was perhaps nothing, or he could feel someone. Perhaps this person was skilled in the Force. He saw the same officer with who he had stared down earlier was waiting, his personal squad of stormtroopers following behind. The shuttle that was cleared for landing, stood there waiting. Kyrel could feel the disturbance from it as if like a predator stalking his prey. He was eager to discover if it was really Imperials, or if the Rebels were in disguise. Studying the tactics that were of the Rebellion's speciality. Using Imperial uniforms, and documentation was not above them, in fact, they were easy at getting into places. Getting out would perhaps be the trickest for them most of all.

The ramp lowered, and what he saw in view was three humans. Dressed in Imperial uniform, it looked to be Imperial Officers, yes, but still, he couldn't shake the feeling off. He looked to the female next to him, speaking in a harsh and cold tone that showed his suspicions. "I want the documents to be throughly checked. I feel that there is something amiss. A disturbance that still lingers." Even though he did not have command, he still would oversee that his mission was done. That the ship would be transferred safely while his brethren dealt with both the Jedi and the Artifacts.

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Praetorian Initiate
Objective II
Equipment | FO-07K Multi-purpose Assault Armour with Repulsorlift Technology, Vibrodaggers, Lightsaber & Training Lightsaber, DE-39 Maser Rifle, Throwing Knives, Binding Wires, Injector Pens filled with Lecepanine, C-25 Fragmentation Grenades
Location | Valley of Tombs, Praesitlyn
Allies | First Order, [member="Eighth Guard"], [member="Primat Ren"]
Status | Anxious

[SIZE=11pt]With her back towards Primat, the young blonde did not catch her older brother’s brief show of annoyance. But even if she did, she would probably take it as a sign that she should do it again to elicit more of them from him. Given more freedom as an initiate than she ever was when she was under the strict tutelage of her various instructors, Marriskcal has recently discovered she held some form of enjoyment from poking and prodding at the people she was familiar with. And alas, in the case of the two Ren, Primat received all of the young blonde’s undivided attention.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]At the laugh she heard from the older male following after her, Marriskcal rolled her eyes even[/SIZE] as she continued to allow her senses to lead her towards the Praetorian Knight. If Primat thought she would have mercy on him just because she was fond of him, he will soon discover how untrue it would be. At his request, however, the initiate turned to give him a small glare. And right after I warned him too! But since it was for Varas, Marriskcal was not about to turn her brother down. “One kick for every hole you make me crawl into. I will add two kicks if I encounter creepy crawlies inside. And if… if I get stuck and you have to pull me out, that is an additional three kicks.” She was not about to suffer any form of indignity without some sort of recompense.

[SIZE=11pt]With a soft huff of fond exasperation, the young blonde turned back towards entrance of the tomb, the brevity of her steps increasing when she felt the burning presence of the knight growing beyond the doorway of the opened tomb. As it was a straightforward route, already paved for them by the knight passing through, Marriskcal merely followed the trail he left for them. And that was when the oddity began, it started with a soft buzz, which she initially disregarded due to the fact they were both walking down a dark silent passage. But when she stepped into the second open chamber, the ambient noise increased in its intensity.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Perhaps if she were alone with Primat, the initiate would have been more cautious. But her eyes were solely on the crimson-clad knight, his form visible even amongst the sandtrooper contingent that accompanied him down into the tomb. Without waiting to see if her brother was following behind her, Marriskcal weaved between the other figures and made her way towards the knight when she noticed one of the sandtrooper passing a blade to him. Her eyes narrowed in suspicion and the young blonde increased the pace of her steps.[/SIZE]

 

[Hansen]

Alika Zovu
Near Camp Banque, Banque Valley
Nearby: [member="The Major"], [member="Konstantin Makarev"]
Allies: [member="The Major"], [member="Konstantin Makarev"]
Enemies: None

The fans whirr loudly within the confines of armour sending silver strands of jaw-length hair gently fluttering around the ubiquitous bucket-shaped helmet's interior the footprints in the sand behind the lone Shadowtrooper who stands under the blisteringly hot sun lead up into an ominous black First Order Security Bureau shuttle. The teen's gray eyes carefully study the dunes around them and their crests' like a hawk waiting for any would-be Imperial-killers to arrive, the local defence forces might give them trouble as she'd hear briefing breifing although yet at Camp Banque there is yet no sign of trouble which Alika considered fortunate and desirable as this was one child who had grown up early atop the anvil of war, forged by its' misfortunes, triumphs and defeats but for all this it did little to dampen her spirits and greeted this new and sandy world with tactfully concealed enthusiasm. Director Shepard's voice rolls into Alika's ears through the helmet's comlink, it seemed they would be displacing in short order? She greets the idea with wordless happiness there wasn't much that could be gleaned from the nearly featureless dunes that surrounded them quietly Alika hopes that she might yet have the opportunity to examine the excavated ruins. When Director Shepard comes within ear-shot, the young black-armoured shadowtrooper snaps her ankles together and waits for the swaggering executive to ascend up into the shuttle before following courteously with light footsteps. Alika had never been the most obedient to authority but she understood its' importance and appropriateness given the Director's presence.

Even as a young child freshly inducted into the Stormtrooper Corps Alika frequently refused to eat the vegetables when ordered that were provided and opted instead to carefully swipe extra cuts of meat and outwitted the nutritionists when they insisted she finish 'two more items' on her plate only to present extra meat or bread and consume those instead. Even to the current day Alika maintains the extra meat had done more good for her than the spurned vegetables ever could have such is the young woman's sincerity. That level of independence and non-conformity would have seemed destined to put Alika in a role other than a rank and file Stormtrooper Rifleman, sitting with care into a seat just shy of the Cargo ramp Alika's hand reaches up and pulls the harness down over torso with rifle stored besidethe chair in a magnetic holder. With a mixture of excitement and anxiety to be in the presence of the Nearby Director Shepard Alika's knees jolt up and down slightly in a repeating motion waiting eagerly for the shuttle to climb into the Atmosphere. "This is going to be so damn awesome." Rolling out of the annunciator quietly her Gray spheres crane up and study the Shuttle's ceiling before eyelids purse together in a gentle grip the ambient temperature falling dramatically with the fans' whirr steadily declining with the responsibility of cooling easing somewhat.

 

[The Major]

Allies: [member="Konstantin Makarev"] | [member="Alika Zovu"] | The First Order
Siblings: [member="Martin Shepard"]
Enemies: Sand and heat
Location: In motion to location
Objective: Objective II


The journey from the camp aboard a nondescript military transport had proven to be most tedious due to the vast spaces involved in an otherwise underdeveloped world. Most pertinent to the outbound party's comfort was the excruciating heat -at least, heat too complete for someone as sensitive and delicate as the good Major to withstand without some strong air conditioning. She envied the mix of storm and shadowtroopers along for the ride, since their suits were sealed and cooled internally to a constant temperature.

Shepard noted that one of the shadowtroopers appeared to be antsy, excitable. Perhaps too looking forward to violence. How that would factor into the investigation remained to be seen.

At some point both the Colonel and the Director got into a spirited discussion regarding the treatment of former alliance planets annexed by the First Order. Though for a time the Fallanassi found it fit to pay devil’s advocate for the sake of debate, eventually it was agreed by both parties that a more systemic, brutal approach should be adopted to make an example to the systems still within the nation’s axis of advance.

Perhaps soon?

Regardless of that the shuttle now came into few near the source of the disturbance, possibly alerting those already assembled on the spot with the characteristic whine of the engines as the craft powered through its course.

 

[Dirk Bannahan]

Racosidae: the Rueful Ren
Objective 1: Get the Jedi
Location: Pushing the LZ
Allies: [member="Seto Du Couteau"] | [member="Chandana Kay"]

The smoke filled. Blind fire came through the billowing clouds. Without proper sight lines at least less of the auxiliary troopers were biting the dust from the superior positions occupied by the enemy. It may just be concealment but so long as the wind didn’t pick up and gust then they should have at least a few moments more of pseudo-respite. In this breather of sorts Rae started noticing that some of the other troopers on her side were gravitating, however subtly, either by subconscious desire to group up and survive, or because they were shot and pushed into the group, or in one spirited instance blown up and thrown into the center, towards her. This Ren was no leader by any means, but their breathing reminded her there were teammates to work with.

More importantly there were dead members still hot while they took a sand nap.

Calling upon her abilities as a Force Vampire, she channeled the energy of these and dying and pooled this concentration into her right fist. This technique wasn’t exactly natural, even by the standards of the dark side, but it had served her survival well during the Hydian Way Blockade, and it would serve here.

In mere seconds the collected energy roiled within Rae at a boiling point, and she let it loose in a rage, further compounding the issue with her own miasma of anger and loneliness exponentially.

It looked like a Force Push, then a wide shove, and culminated in a tidal wave that blasted away emplacements, enemy soldiers, and crumpled apart the forward wall like a fort busting shell had just struck the surface. It wasn’t full proof, and there after the initial shock some of the enemy repositioned to secondary positions, but now there was enough time for the First Order group to seize the initiative and charge into attacking vectors.

It always felt dirty to leave dead and wounded friendlies behind, but if the Ren didn’t leap forward and sprint in a screaming charge while brandishing her lightsaber, its purple light coloring the landscape in an alien hue, then they would surely all perish.

 

[Varian Alaric]

Location| Camp Banque, Near the Valley of Tombs, Praesitlyn
Objective| II
Allies| [member="Marriskcal Lati"] | [member="Eighth Guard"]
Enemies| Unknown

Equipment| 2x Lightsabers (crimson), Multi-purpose Assault Armor(Without Helmet)
Status| Determined

'One kick for every hole you make me crawl into. I will add two kicks if I encounter creepy crawlies inside. And if… if I get stuck and you have to pull me out, that is an additional three kicks' Primat couldn't help but laugh at the reply that Marriskcal's reply. He wasn't one-hundred percent positive if she would kick him, though it definitely wasn't past her. Even if she did kick him in the shin in the end, he was at the very least, happy that she had agreed to help him. Marr had not verbally said she would help him outright, though Primat had known her long enough to where he could understand what she meant when she hadn't directly answered the question. He wasn't overly afraid of being kicked in the shins, hell he was wearing power armor. So was Marriskcal, though a kick wouldn't hurt that much either way...right?

The metal-clad feet of Primat's suit stomped loudly as he follow close behind Marrisckal through the tomb, which looked to have been undisturbed for centuries until now of course. The sound of metal hitting against century-old sandstone reverberated throughout the tomb, echoing downwards into pitch-black hallways which held secrets of unknown worth and danger. Hit metal feet stopped suddenly in place as the pair made their way to the second chamber, to the right was a hallway from which no light entered...at least it appeared to be that way. One could never be too sure about ancient temples and tombs, anything could be an illusion of the mind or of the force. The ambient sound of footsteps came from the blackened hallway, though Primat refused to make a move towards it. He didn't know what lay in wait in the dark, and he wasn't willing to find out.

Drawing his attention away from the almost mystifying black hallway, Primat quickly caught back up with Marrisckal. However, as he did so the soft buzzing began. It sounded like their were thousands of tiny wasps in the walls all around them, buzzing. However, their was no record of wasps being on this world. It could, just be the tomb playing tricks on him. Whatever the case, Primat's left hand palmed the saber strapped on the left side of his belt. It wasn't his dueling hand, though he knew he shouldn't make anything look too obvious...didn't want to draw unneeded suspicion from the Stormtroopers after all.

The noise grew in intensity as Primat stepped into the second chamber. He then stepped out of the chamber, and the noise decreased in frequency and volume. Strange.

Stepping back into the second chamber, Primat made his way towards Marr which was relatively easy as his glacier blue eyes skimmed over the crimson armor of the Knight. He made his way over cautiously, weaving through a few Troopers. Then, his eyes fell upon the blade a sandtrooper was handing to the Praetorian...

 

[Seto du Couteau]

Location: Attempting to break into Headquarters
Objective: 1, Locate and Subdue Rumored Jedi (Charging Forward)
Equipment: FO-07K Multi-purpose Assault Armor
Allies: [member="Racosidae"] [member="Chandana Kay"] First Order

​

A groan escaped his lips as Seto slowly grasped back unto reality. Yup, still alive. Seto realized as a sharp pain erupted in his head as he slowly shook his head. That’s strange, can’t see. His eyes blinked as color reemerged and Seto slowly began to intake information once more. His head still throbbing as he thought that there should be more light hitting his face.

Blinking several times he finally noticed someone was looking at him, Are those purple eyes?- Seto stood up suddenly, or at least tried to as his arms suddenly forget how to move. "How was my landing?" Seto finally groaned out a question. Maybe a joke will help me ignore the pain. His arms and legs finally remembered how to listen to his commands and Seto slowly turned himself around. Yeah, still hurts, can't ignore.

His hands reached for his lightsabers, but found that both were probably somewhere outside of the protection of this nice blaster resistant boulder. Seto focused and closed his eyes as he called the Force and located his sabers, with both hands outstretched each one gracefully grabbed his lightsabers. With his weapons returned and his head and body somewhat combat ready he glanced around him and gave a small peek over the egde of the boulder.

"Well, that's one way to clear away the mines," Seto mused, one of the Ren that had taken part had probably seen his failed attempt of breaching their positions and figured out a different way to approach the enemy forces. It was an awesome display of Force ability regardless, and one Seto wondered he could learn. He turned around now and wondered what to do with the Auxiliary Trooper and the rest of the troopers assigned to this battle.

Even back when he was an Inquisitor with the Empire and given command over dozens of Stormtrooper squadrons he mostly had them held in reserve and told them to let him handle mostly everything. Not the most tactically gifted mind. Not that he was their commander by any stretch of the imagination, but he knew they would listen at least if he suggested something.

"Grab more troops and reinforce our charge forward," Seto began, referring to his Ren comrade and himself, "-With our attire and bright sabers we'll pull the majority of the fire and that'll let you guys to advance, get into any trouble pop smoke and I'll make my to your locations," He added. Seto waited for any type of affirmative as he slowly stood up and ignited both sabers.

With a weary sigh, and a pained expression as he took a single step forward, he charged forward. ​Can't let the enemy regroup and reset their positions again.

 

[Mellifluous Magenta]

Thrall Chandana Kay
Post 2
Objective: 1
Location: Drop Zone
Equipment: F-11D Blaster Rifle, Hekler’Kok LA-1 Light Armor, Black Balaclava, NADIR P-SERIES Combat Knife, Vibroblade w/ Mono-molecular Edge, 2 Smoke Grenades
Allies: [member=Racosidae] and [member="Seto Du Couteau"]

The diminutive auxiliary's thoroughly bewitched gaze held itself onto the armored figure like a winged insect on a light as the knight recovered himself and his wits from the fall with a speed that she had never thought possible. Not to mention, the fact that he had survived a fall from a height that she had thought impossible to live through by conventional means was nothing short of unbelievable. It was one thing to be physically vigorous, sturdy, and athletic, but it was quite another to wield supernatural magic at one's fingertips, which could be called upon at a whim. Indeed, at that moment, the knight did just that, as his retractable laser-swords flew into his hands out of what seemed to her like thin air.

"It was...decent, my lord...but, the recovery was amazing?!" Chandana responded in a tone that suggested awe and disbelief at what she had just witnessed.

The auxiliary didn't stay distracted for much longer. After all, it hadn't taken the supernatural knight much time to recover from his fall, and it didn't take the little soldier much time to notice the peculiar and sudden silencing of the ambient screams and cries across the battlefield. This prompted the Bimm soldier to glance at her surroundings, specifically the now-inert bodies which only seconds ago, were writhing against the final throes of death. Before she could fully process the implications of the sudden stillness, a loud and thunderous boom vibrated against her ear drums. At first, she thought it was an impacting mortar shell which she presumed had struck only meters away, but the supernaturally forceful shock wave which succeeded the noise and the sight of one of the nearby witch-knights generating it told her otherwise.

It was the force.

For a few moments, a brief and blissful reprieve followed, which was almost totally unmarred by blaster fire, explosions, and screams. However, as Chandana stared down the scope of her rifle and leaned out of cover once more, her eyes were met with the welcome sight of an uncountable number of retreating, fallen, and stunned figures who seemed to be recovering from the blast for a far longer duration of time than it had taken the knight to find his feet after his fall.

Chandana quickly capitalized on the shift in momentum, and without hesitation, she took aim and squeezed the trigger of her rifle eight successive times, loosing an aimed barrage of lethal blaster fire at the defenders of the compound. More shots followed as the soldiers around her began to return fire as well. And now, upon hearing new orders from the previously fallen knight, Chandana yelled a resounding, "Yes sir!", and found herself sprinting out of cover at a breakneck pace towards the well-fortified compound and the defensive emplacements surrounding it.

Quite simply, the momentum had finally shifted, and it was time to exploit it.

 

[Progflaw99]

Location: Praesitlyn, Valley of Tombs
Objective: Explore Ruins, Discover Artifacts​

​

The oppressive heat threatened to dissuade Martin from proceeding and yet he pushed on. He'd lost the lightweight and loose fitting garb in place of a fully sealed EVA style suit complete with helmet. Where he was going there was no telling if the oxygen was even breathable - or if there even was any. Estimates couldn't even accurately guess how long the ruins had been covered by the sand. It was part of what he hoped to discover once inside by way of artifact or perhaps there was some indication of how long it had been concealed. Entombed.

Shrugging a harness over his shoulders Martin ran through a final checklist of his gear, touching each piece as he completed his mental inventory. *Everything seems in place.* he said, attempting to scratch an itch on the edge of his hairline before shaking his head. That was going to get annoying. Cinching down the straps of his harness he grabbed the lamp and began trudging towards the entrance. Once inside, he'd be able to enjoy the reprise from the sun and heat. Approaching the ancient archway he heard a sound that caused him pause, a high pitched whine almost drowned out by the wind - but familiar. *A ship?*

He'd done his best to go undetected but it seemed the First Order had picked up his transport afterall - at least he hoped it was them, not another band of tomb raiders or adventurers. Martin didn't exactly like to share. Resting his hand on the pistol strapped across his chest, he took position just inside the archway, diligently keeping an eye on the sky. Whomever it was, they were close.

[member="Konstantin Makarev"] | [member="Lionel Lovejoy"] | [member="The Major"]​

​

 

[Leskie Tomiet]

Not a moment's peace.

The dark figure had not been content to leave the crew to act on his suspicions. Instead he had joined her with a component of his own forces. His baritone voice twisted behind the mask.

"I am quite capable." She replied without glancing at the man. She held her nerve for now but wasn't sure if it would stay if she was directly looking at him.

Their guests marched down the ramp, looking as Imperial as anyone else. Leskie saluted, before relaxing into a more casual stance. Professional body language but a friendly smile.

"I am Ensign Tomiet. Welcome to the Oculus. It's a pleasure," the woman held out her hand for the newcomers to pass her their documents. "Security is tight in this sector, my apologies. Papers please?"

[member="Kyrel Ren"] / [member="Atlas Viridian"] / [member="Kira Vaal"] / [member="Petra Vitalis"]