Side by Side ... by Side [First Order Dominion of Anoat Sector Hex]

[Kriel Firin]

Cloud City's altitude did not concern Kriel one bit, he was so used to it. But to many, it was disconcerting, to walk around - outside - and see sheer drops on all sides.

Once upon a time, returning to Cloud City gave him a feeling of home and safety. Now it was just another city, another planet. He had no real home any more. For home suggested an attachment, and Kriel had none. Sentimentality was for others, no longer for him.

He glanced at the layered clouds below and glimpsed ships coming and going. The view was different and he noted a few of the troopers sneaking a look. "It's beautiful, yes?" When a few nodded their agreement, his tone became harsh. "But it's not why we'e here. Focus on the task in hand."

 

[Darth Veles]

Not even the intense pain running throughout his entire body when he finally woke up could measure with the legendary level of headache that made Veles pray for the mercy of falling unconscious again. The unbearable sensation as if he were about to vomit his insides out also did not help the Sith Lord in regaining his senses. Everything continued to spin, roll, fly in wrong directions. Both amber orbs blinked, once, twice, again and again, their owner desperately trying to piece together what had happened. Nausea and other acute distractions did not go easy on the Mon Cal, but memories of the fall came to him soon enough. That alone did not allow Veles to determine his current whereabouts; it hurt to look around and think. One flickering light that barely managed to scare away creeping shadows from a small cabin in particularly run-down condition. His own form laid on cold, metal panels, mechanical sounds resonating beneath the filthy floor.

Worst of all? The Force refused to obey his commands, temporarily abandoning this miserable crippled shell of weakness.

By instinct’s command, his webbed hands slowly reached for where his lightsabers used to be, finding nothing. Fury and panic claimed his heart, bulbous eyes darting around in search of the trusty twins of death. The first and also the last attempt at getting up failed miserably, injuries combined with pain taking their toll on his strength. Catching something in the corner of his eyes, the amphibian mustered up enough power to force his gaze into that particular corner, spying on his own medpac, open, used, lacking the bacta patches, which Veles assumed to be stuck on his body right now. That partially added to the explanation as of why his head continued to spin – with drugs further providing further distraction, there was nothing left to do but to accept his fate and wait. Closing his eyes and letting the medication do its duty, Veles tried to relax.

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Post: 4/38
Location: Hoth
Allies: First Order
Enemies: Unknown
Objective: 6 (build a ski resort on Mt. Ison)

Frank received transmissions from other pilots overhead his position that there was a Jedi enclave on the other side of the ski resort operation being deployed. He promptly informs Dunames of the fact while she is still in-system, while he is in charge of a few battle droids, the very same used on Star Tours flights. While the R9s and other utility droids are hard at work on the surface, Dunames is about to return to Bespin to fetch the remaining supplies from the Bowser, an AT-AT barge colored in the lipstick scheme since Star Tours launched the Lipstick Express service, running the Lipsec-Eriadu-Hosnian Prime route by now. Dunames opens a channel to Frank on the ground, now that she laid in a course to Bespin:

"Dunames, there is a Jedi enclave on the far side of Mount Ison!"

"A Jedi enclave on Mount Ison? We shall not build on that side of Mount Ison until the matter of the Jedi enclave is cleared up! Anyway, we will need a proper spaceport at the base of Mount Ison before the ski resort even reaches that point"

"It would be wise to stay on one side of Mount Ison before a decision has been made: you do not have the authority to make a decision about it and neither do we"

"Roger" She turned to the instrument console. "Lightspeed to Bespin!"

 

[Kira Vaal]

Anoat
Post 02(Various characters)

“You promised me two thousand?” Kira have the man a strange look as he finished handing over the three hundred credits he figured was what her time had been worth. “We awfully close to First Order space and lugging these weapons in was harder then three hundred credit hard.”

“Hey a man has to eat, I don’t have two thousand. Never did.” He smiled a wicked smile that made Kira cringe. “Beside’s you ain’t gonna be around long enough to spend two thousand anyway.” He pointed a finger towards a large viewing screen on a nearby wall where the digital display had been replaced with the gaping red maw of the First Order. “Star Destroyers arrived this morn. Ain’t nobody getting off this rock now.”

Kira cursed under her breath. The last thing she needed right now was First Order cronies peeking into her business, especially when said business was Underground business.
“Fine three hundred it is then. Get lost.” She waved off the creep and brought up her comm-link to her lips. “Charlwook lock down the Falcon. We may need to lay low for a while.” Her hood was pulled up over her head and the curious crowds of Anoat, staring strongly at the digital display become her instant camouflage.

 

[Kellyn Muir]

Cloud City, Bespin
[1/20]

Corvo harbored no animosity towards the people of Bespin, nor did he wish any ill will upon them. But he did what was asked of him, and what was asked was complete and unconditional submission to the First Order. The High Colonel was the only military officer to sit on the Moff Council, at least to his knowledge. He was escorted down the chambers of Cloud City by a personal security detail of stormtroopers, the sound of the clicks of their boots posing a dominant yet elegant presence.

His uniform was crisp, his chest bore many colors, signifying his time in service and accomplishments. Corvo's holster was noticeably empty, leaving his blaster pistol aboard his transport. While he normally carried it with him, he thought that Bespin's representatives would be more willing to submit to the First Order.

As he neared the conference area, he noticed a larger presence of people. They appeared to be uneased by his stormtrooper guard, so with a subtle wave of his hand, they dispersed to strategic focal points to both provide security and a visible presence. He recognized the face of Natasi Fortan from his inbriefing, though the other faces around her were unknown to him. They wouldn't be long though, as Corvo confidently approached Natasi and mustered a simple greeting.

With a simple cough, he extended his hand and introduced himself. "Miss Fortan, it's a pleasure to finally meet you. Corvo Santagar, High Colonel, First Order Army." He went by his military title as opposed to that of Moff. He presents himself as a military authority, so a military authority he would be - he'd just so happen to sit on the Moff Council as well.

He didn't know those around her, but he had a feeling he'd know soon enough.

[member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Marzena Choi"] | [member="Max Fel"]

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Post 4
Location: Hoth
Mission: Ice Fishing

Decima Fortan had been separated from [member="Darth Veles"] by duty, having been dispatched on some assignment or another, the importance of which was minimal but which served to keep her from being crushed under sixteen tons of ice and snow, at least, and that was handy. She had instructions to rendezvous with Veles on Hoth but due to some hangups at her last destination was delayed. So when she finally arrived at Hoth, tracking the Your Deathbed's signature to its landing place, the ship was quite empty.

It was frigid here, so she was glad to kick the heaters on when she boarded the strangely-named ship. After a cursory inspection to verify what her instincts and Force-imbued spidey sense told her -- that Veles wasn't there -- she went to the galley and rummaged through the snack cupboard, but found nothing that suited. Mon Cal liked weird stuff. Heaving a sigh, she went to the communications console, but found nothing instructing her where he had gone or to follow. She sat on the arm of the chair and crossed her legs, looking thoughtfully at the bulkhead.

She could stay here. Warm and safe. Twiddle her thumbs. See if Veles had any good holos. No one could blame her; no instructions from her Master, after all. But somehow that seemed dishonorable. Perhaps this was a test, and she was meant to find Veles as part of her training. But where could he be? Any footprints -- or flipperprints -- he left in the snow would almost certainly be covered by now. Hers might very well be, too. She sighed and turned to the consoles, activating a few of the other ancilary ones, until she reached the sensor readout station.

Eureka. She downloaded the data to her datapad.

It seemed the sensors had detected something nearby, and it stood to reason that Veles would have been curious. So she re-fastened her extremely stylish cold-weather gear and ventured out into the cold, pulling the fur-trimmed hood around her face as Jack Frost began to nip at her nose. About five minutes into her trek, she was already hoping that it wasn't a test. Decima wouldn't take kindly to nearly freezing to death for something so pedestrian as a test.

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Post 5
Allies: The First Order
Enemies: Sad, resistant nobles

Natasi turned and regarded [member="Corvo Santagar"] briefly, smiling professionally. "Ah, Colonel. Another one I was hoping to meet during these talks. I have need of a conversation with you about just where to put you in the cabinet. But we mustn't bore the others with all that." She turned to [member="Marzena Choi"] and said, "Ms. Choi, may I present Corvo Santagar? The newest addition to the Moff Council. Corvo, this is Marzena Choi, First Order cultural attaché and celebrity hostess for this event."

She then turned to [member="Max Fel"]. "And you and Mr. Fel here will soon be cabinet colleagues," she said. "Max Fel, currently carrying the brief for Industry, though who can say how long that will go on. Mr. Fel, Coro Santagar. And of course, I suspect you all now my principal private secretary, Ms. Sioux Chambers, without whom the First Order government would grind to a halt and die." Sioux offered smiles of varying degrees of warmth (or cold, in the case of Ms. Choi) to those she was introduced to.

"She can reach me if you aren't able to find me. Don't hesitate."

 

[Caid Centurion]

Post 1
Location: Anoat Space

The soft hiss of blast doors retracting didn't really draw any attention from the men and women on the bridge close enough to even hear the commotion over the steady stream of reports and casually-spoken commands. Why would they? The relative majority of important officials not engaged in duty elsewhere aboard the Resurgence-class Dreadnought were already on the bridge. It wasn't an uncommon phenomenon. When [member="Aram Kalast"], the Supreme Commander was present on the bridge, everyone from the embarked staff all the way down to the ship's Captain were on hand in the event the Supreme Commander gave so much as an inkling towards strategic desire.

As that was the case, the addition of one more person to the conglomeration, large in size or not, went without any great initial notice. Ciardha Ren...a name that once belonged to his father during his time with the Knights of Ren, was still a rather little known quantity among the First Order. Sure, there were those familiar with his family name and, thus, familiar with his father, but Caid worked quite diligently to make it clear he would not live in the shadow of his father's accomplishments. He took the name Ciardha to give it meaning, purpose. The name Ciardha Ren would cease to be enigmatic and, instead, become a moniker of reverence.

Wearing a black and silver cloak over the top of a black, high-collared tactical uniform, Caid blended in with no one on the bridge. Silently, he approached the Supreme Commander, silver-green eyes gazing out from beneath the veil of darkness provided by the hood of his cloak. For now, the large Ren's chest rose and fell in a steady, even rhythm. His assignment to the Supreme Commander for this particular operations was fortuitous.

Further more...it would compel excellence.

 

[Aram Kalast]

Location: Above Anoat
Post: 03 (Various Characters)

“Sir.” The interruption had came from Admiral Deesat, the commanding officer beneath Aram aboard the Pruvail, current flagship of the Imperial First Order Fleet. The man himself was puffy and had a boisterous charm about him, he also did not wait for confirmation of acknowledgement before continuing. “The Vengeance, Illustrious Wrath, Dominator and Administration have all reported that strike forces are primed and prepared for deployment upon the planet.” He indicated to several red pings on the planetary hologram before them. “The remaining parts of the fleet have indicated that they will indeed have every force available on standby.”

“Excellent.” Aram said as he switched his weight onto his left foot, chin caressed with a thoughtful hand. “Have the men deployed into the heavy populated areas, initiate lock down procedures.” He cycled through the commands of a nearby console. “Have we had any reports of anything on surface that may possibly be unusual?” Something was amiss within reports on the last couple of scans, Aram had started to realise that someone, if not something had managed to get through the pre-blockade scanners they had installed in place several weeks ago.

“Nothing our analysis hasn’t picked up, several bulk freighters that entered the system three days ago, carrying medical supplies we believe.” Deesat folded his arms. “Although I have them on the watchlist, we will make sure a unit is sent to each to scan.”

“Yes do that.” Aram stopped on a report, his eyes narrowing. “What of this? YT, came in the day we set up the scanners. Any departure?”

“Not according to the records Sir.” Deesat sounded dismissive. “Probably just a local trader, small time freight flyer or a classic ship collector for all we know. Those YT units are popular among the collection circles. I wouldn’t think anything of it sir.”

“I want it investigated.” Aram pointed at the screen. “I have a hunch we’ve seen this ship before.”

“If you insist sir. I’ll have sector four look into it.”

Aram stared at the pixelated image that had been put up on the screen, a very hazy replication of a YT, a YT he had the increasing feeling was connected with the Undergrounds sudden disappearance from Bespin barely three months ago.

Again a smile crossed his lips as the dark form of the Ren approached from behind him. “Ah, yes. Our Knight of Ren, just in time.” The Supreme Commander turned to look at [member="Caid Centurion"]. “I have need of your expertise on the surface. The Noble houses of Anoat have long held certain privilege among the sector, several of the more prominent houses currently possessing the codes for financial records from across the planet. I need those codes Ren.” He indicated to a point on the map nearby. “The Supreme Leader has decreed that you shall have your need of resources, take what men, arms and equipment you deem necessary. Just bring me those codes. Also I must stress, there is a time limit on this task Ren. I wouldn’t want to be on that planet when the timer reaches zero.”

 

[Caid Centurion]

Post 2
Location: Anoat Orbit

Caid's gaze drifted briefly to the tactical display in front of the Supreme Commander as the man spoke of a specific tasking from the Supreme Leader. The Ren's lack of visual focus on the Supreme Commander was not a sign of disrespect. Quite to the contrary, the man had as much of the Ren's attention as was necessary to facilitate complete understanding. When [member="Aram Kalast"]'s voice had stopped, Caid turned in his direction before nodding slightly. "For the Order," came the deep reply from Caid's mouth prior to the Ren turning to depart the bridge. The soft footfalls of his light-weight combat boots accompanying the rustling of fabric as Caid hastened his departure.

The instant he was on the other side of the blast doors, he contacted the Platoon Leader of Triumvirate Troopers that he, more or less, had trained with for an amount of time prior to the start of this operation. The Neophyte was not yet of the rank and authority required to maintain a permanent force assigned to his operations. It was no matter. The men and women of the First Order were all trained to an equal standard respective to their chosen...discipline and skill code.

"Lieutenant. We are deploying to the surface. Have your men loaded and prepared for departure in fifteen minutes."

"Yes sir."

 

[Darth Veles]

Approaching footsteps echoing between the ancient crumbling hallways alerted Veles to another being’s arrival. The Mon Cal’s eyes slowly opened, staring at a decrepit man that immediately reminded the Sith of scavengers. Worst of all, two curved hilts could be seen hanging on his belt like some sort of trophies. Humiliating. The sight of his personal weapons in the man’s possession felt like a direct insult. Staying silent, replying to the scavenger’s stare with his own, the Sith Lord considered the option of telekinetically seizing the weapons and making his escape. If not for the drugs running through his systems and making the Force an unreliable tool, Veles would not spare another second hesitating.

“Awake at last.”

It was impossible not to notice he remained on guard, keeping his distance. A wise choice – not that it would have done him any good if the Mon Cal had any strength left in his bones.

“Tell me, what is a Force user doing here?” the man’s hand patted the silver lightsabers, “Are you with the First Order?”

The animosity in his voice suggested the man did not particularly like Veles’ new allies, thus the Sith played it safe, his eyes moving to blankly glare at the ceiling.

“I am an agent of the Republic, searching for artifacts to help us fight against the One Sith.”

Technically true. Almost. It was hard being Lasedri’s personal assassin without Lasedri.

“Uh, well, eh,” the man attempted to laugh, releasing a nervous sound of similar to barking, “That is good, I suppose. Because if you were one of them Ren knights, I’d have to kill you. To be honest, I don’t trust you a word anyway, but we’re not in position to refuse a Force user, even a half-dead one like yourself.”

Oh, he’d be perfectly fine the moment he drained them all of their life and restored his own strength. At least now he knew there were more, stopping him from any rash actions.

“And why is that?” the Sith asked in a weak whisper, turning his head to look at the man.

“You’ll know once you get up and walk around. Plus,” he grinned, “Our rebellion could use a Force user.”

Rebels! Particularly humiliating. Veles’ stomach turned at the revelation. Inhaling the freezing air, finding some focus, the Sith started to plot his first moves. Without a Force sensitive of their own, there was no way for any to discover his identity. Unless…

“Where is my equipment?” he demanded, suspicion growing.

“Broken.” The man shrugged, “You’re lucky to be alive. Must have been quite a fall. Those lightsabers were the only things to make it.”

So his treacherous datapad containing everything they needed to brand him a Sith working alongside the First Order lied shattered. Relief spread through the Sith Lord’s body as he made another attempt to get up.


[member="Decima Fortan"]

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Post: 5/38
Location: Bespin
Allies: First Order
Enemies: Unknown
Objective: 6 (build a ski resort on Mt. Ison)

Dunames ate little more than TKFC while she was in First Order territory. But knowing what the shipment she was to deliver contained, it may well be an hour or two before she could depart Bespin. She had a feeling of déjà vu when she landed on Bespin to collect the equipment Virgnie ordered a few weeks ago in preparation for Operation Shatterpoint, especially when news of the criminal activities on Morellia and Kuat arrived to Star Tours' headquarters. Star Tours' head office knew that they needed to limit the damage and launching a new line of products would be inevitable. But they had nothing to go on as far as that new line is concerned: Iceberg Prime is in Sanctum territory and Sanctum authorities still hold Star Tours with some level of suspicion after what happened with flight 1846 on Morellia, Ando Prime was targeted by the Zenithian Imperium and hence would not expand on any flight rights Star Tours held to Zenithian Imperium space, based on the Kothlis debacle, Nelvaan is on the border of Ando's hex and posed the same risks. Which left them with Hoth.

"Now what? Pizza Hutt is on Lipsec, what restos are spaceside in that spaceport? There have been expansions to Cloud City since I last was in Cloud City"

"I believe your favorite place in that spaceport is called 100-Cred Dinner" Merrily told Dunames.

"Provided that Troig still has that restaurant open... it may cost 100 credits for a full meal on average, but that makes the lines at that restaurant nonexistent"

"Star Tours 4227, this is Cloud City traffic control, your cargo is ready at docking bay D38"

"Roger, Cloud City traffic control"

 

[Darth Veles]

With a pained grunt of exertion, the Mon Calamari Sith finally mustered the necessary effort to sit up. He stayed in this position for several more minutes, silently watched by the rebel who took his lightsabers. While the man thought him to be resting and getting ready to stand up, the amphibian actually called upon the Dark Side, a short meditation. Pain and anger made excellent conductors for the mystical power that permeated everything and the Sith embraced them, focusing on the crippling agony seizing his form, turning his anger into hatred by constantly reminding himself of the stolen lightsabers. The small portion of the Dark Side within Veles heart, almost extinguished by the numbing drugs, started to grow once more. Granting the Sith power and strength to push past his wounds, the grim aspect of the Force started to seep into his body. With his connection to the Force partially restored, Veles ordered his broken shell to get up and it obeyed with just a few silent moans.

“Tell me what’s going on,” the Mon Cal unapologetically demanded the vital information, hands clutching the hurting sides. As much as he hated to admit it, he still wasn’t strong enough to walk on his own, let alone fight. Rusty walls offered him the necessary support when he leaned against them, heavy breaths of exhaustion only proving he needed to rest more.

“As you may know, we desperately need something to give us an edge over the First Order.” The rebel started and left the room through its half-opened door, walking into a spacious hallway heavily resembling the ancient Republic designs. A petite figure of a woman armed with one of the ancient E-11s joined him, standing guard right outside of the quarters in case the prisoner refused to cooperate. Now she walked behind Veles, weapon ready, crawling at a snail pace due.

“Many experimental weapons have been buried alongside these ships here. We wanted to… recover a few. After making an entrance into the glacier this entire warship’s in, we scoured this piece of junk for anything useful. Turned out some of the systems still worked, evaluated us as a boarding party and rerouted all power into automated security systems. Now we have droids roaming around and heavy turrets firing at anything that moves. Now, our group of twenty-four has ten less men.”

Rebels falling prey to their own whims. Had he not landed right in the thick of it, Veles would have laughed at the absurdity of the situation. He still had to suppress the chuckle that threatened to come out, which hurt his bruised – broken? – ribs.

“Just leave and bring more of your people,” Veles responds wryly.

More rebels to get slaughtered.

“Impossible. This structure is very unstable. When our way out caved in, we attempted to blow up a new one. The glacier partially collapsed and put an end to that as well, tearing the ship apart in process. We are trapped."

“Hmm.”

That explained much. The explosion, the massive ravine that followed. Veles sighed and continued to slowly pace after the man, still leaning on the wall beside him for support as his boots rhythmically tapped on the metal floor, an eerie echo that filled the empty halls of the ghost ship.


[member="Decima Fortan"]

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Post 6
Allies: First Order, [member="Darth Veles"]

Decima hiked across the tundra, snow crunching underfoot. Luckily there wasn't any weather going on at the moment -- any kind of weather here would have to mean a blizzard of some sort. But for now, it was clear but icy cold. She periodically stopped to check her map, adjusting course when necessary and plunging forward. The young Ren acolyte crunched along in the snow, at one point sinking nearly knee-deep into a pit in the glacier, and she scrambled out of the pit without much difficulty.

Within forty minutes, Decima was standing right on top of the signal coordinates, but she didn't see what was giving off the signal. Perhaps it had moved? Perhaps she was .. on top of it?

There was a thin layer of snow that gave when she walked. She wondered if she was on top of it. She knelt in the snow and slipped out of her knapsack, from which she drew a folding shovel. She began to dig where she was kneeling, right on top of the signal coordinates, but soon she was stymied by the icy crust. She sighed and jammed the shovel back into her knapsack, then stood and drew the lightsaber and activated it, jamming it into the ground. This would give her slightly more success than that stupid trowel.

[member="Darth Veles"]

 

[Marzena Vaas]

Summit, Cloud City
Post 4

Marzena’s eyes shifted towards the door again, this time it framed a very distinguished looking gentleman. It was clear by his uniform and the way that he carried himself that he had some connection to the military. The crisp black of his officer’s uniform reminded her very much of [member="Ludolf Vaas"], but there was a great deal of color displayed on this man’s chest – something that was usually absent from the General’s. She ventured to guess that this new arrival was a notable figure, as least based on the decorations. The celebrity offered a polite nod, and listened as he greeted Moff [member="Natasi Fortan"].

“Pleased to meet you, Colonel Santagar,” She extended her hand.

Her gaze flickered back and forth between the Colonel and Moff Fel, and she smiled upon hearing that the two would soon be working together. And then the familiar form of Sioux Chambers stepped to join them. She had met Ms. Chambers at the Economic and Commerce Summit not long ago. Marzena offered her a friendly smile, and was a bit taken aback by the tight smile and the brief but very chilling look she had received in return. She had little idea why she had received this reaction from Ms. Chambers, had she done something wrong?

The smile remained on Marzena’s face, but the corners of her lips dropped just so.

[member="Corvo Santagar"], [member="Max Fel"]

 

[Darth Veles]

The trio arrived into a larger hub filled with the rest of the rebels. A smoking, motionless turret on the ceiling told Veles everything he needed about what had transpired before his arrival, same with a shredded body painting one of the walls red and a heap of half a dozen ancient droids. Frustration seemed to be running high, at least according to the Force. The Darth met all of their questioning stares before the man who had led him there spoke up, branding him the leader of this ragtag band of terrorists.

“The blasted security systems have to be disabled. Our best bet is so try the main security console one deck below us and pray it works. You know what to expect. Droids, more droids, and most importantly, turrets.”

It sounded like the old technology was still more than capable of wiping the floor with modern soldiers, although Veles attributed part of that to their severely limited training. Rarely professional soldiers, these men and women lacked discipline, running away in panic the moment several of their friends bought it.

“And that is where our new friend comes in,” the leader turned towards Veles and finally handed over his weapons, trace of suspicion still smouldering in his gaze.

“You will cover us – you Force users are supposed to deflect everything fired at you, right?”

Veles lets out a terrifyingly short laugh and his webbed claws greedily snatched both curved hilts.

“Indeed.”


[member="Decima Fortan"]

 

[Caid Centurion]

Post 3
Location: Enroute to Surface of Anoat
[member="Aram Kalast"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"]

Caid leaned forward slightly as the shuttle continued to glide smoothly towards the atmosphere of Anoat. Caid and the men split between the two shuttle element were all aware that their ride would become infinitely rougher the moment they initiated entry through the planet's atmosphere. For that reason, the soldiers took the present time to conduct any last minute preparations of gear. Caid, however, was conversing with the Platoon Leader near the front of the main cabin. "The vast majority of noble families should have departed Anoat already. That being said, I'm sure those that Intelligence has flagged as having probable resistance to Imperial ideals either set a low-level representative to the Summit...or none at all."

The Lieutenant was studying a holographic map that projected from a small screen contained in his hands. "I concur sir. However, I think we're going to run into serious problems if we get into a gunfight with any of these families. If they elect to reinforce one another, we're gonna be smoked no matter what we do." Slowly, the Lieutenant looked up to regard the Knight of Ren. "How do you want to play it?"

Ciardha smiled thinly. "I guess you'll want to take care not to antagonize people too much, then." Waving a dismissive hand, Caid leaned back into his seat. "Deploy a squad to each of the houses we know for sure have expressed an interest in supporting the First Order. Convey that you are there to assist in bolstering defenses and liaising with First Order elements in the system. If you cite the rising tension in anticipation of the summit, your story will be credible enough to the stewards charged with maintaining the estate during the absence of their Lords and Ladies. I will infiltrate the less-supportive noble houses independently to obtain the information we need. Once that is done, the thefts will eventually leak into the media - I'll throw plenty of evidence down for the involvement of some other entity."

An announcement over the interior communication system indicated they were preparing to initiate entry procedures. Glancing out the small viewport beside him, Caid so their position relative to Anoat change as the flight crew rotated the vessel to the optimal atmospheric entry angle. Returning his silver-green gaze to the Lieutenant, Caid concluded his plan. "It will give you reason to insist upon sending two men inside to provide close protection. This will, hopefully, assuage the fears of the nobles on Bespin and help prevent derailing the efforts of Moff Fortan. Questions?"

The Lieutenant merely smirked as the shuttle began to shake wildly as it finally made contact with the friction of Anoat's atmosphere.

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Post: 6/38
Location: Bespin
Allies: First Order
Enemies: Unknown
Objective: 6 (build a ski resort on Mt. Ison)

Dunames landed the ship as promptly as she could. She would get her way from docking bay D38 to the restaurant. Ah, the 100-Cred Diner, where all the guarantees you have there is that the meal would cost 100 credits total, regardless of which course you take. Run by the Troig chef Sodesintan Sohcahtoa, it was the most luxurious restaurant in Cloud City's spaceport. Dunames would have a walk-in table for her alone, and she realized that their plates had gold rim, and the meals would be served in a couvert. The WA-7 droid, while old, was less expensive to make than a protocol droid; after 900+ years (Merrily, Dunames' own WA-7 unit, was 900 years already and served both the old and the current incarnations of Star Tours) WA-7 droids would still be sold and produced, much like the R2s, even though the R9 was released a hundred years after the R2 was. When the waiter droid arrived...

"May I take your order?"

"Crab au gratin, please"

"Salad?"

"Antipasto salad please"

"I'll come back later for the desserts. Bon appétit then"

 

[Kriel Firin]

[member="Isla Ashen"]

Kriel never suffered fools gladly, and the newly appointed Knight of Ren wasn't about to change that facet of his character any time soon. So he was pleased the squad of troopers all snapped into focus and fell into perfect step with him as he left the ship behind him and headed from the landing ramp and into Cloud City proper.

A group of local dignitaries approached him, fawning, bowing and scraping as he strode forwards. With a wave of his hand he dismissed them and walked faster, not wishing to enter into a conversation with them.

For he'd felt a presence nearby. A dark-sided presence and he was curious to see who it was. More than curious - he felt compelled to find out.

 

[Darth Veles]

Compared to Archangel’s wonderful HRDs, the warship’s security droids were mere toys. Still, their shower of blue blaster bolts did give the slowly advancing team of rebels and one Veles plenty enough of trouble. Hitting the ground and sliding behind any little cover the old ship’s halls offered, the small group scrapped anything that got into its way, fighting for every few metres. The situation was manageable until the straight and easy to clear hallway opened into another corridor, where the first two rebels leading the party walked right in front of one of the automatic turrets – neither escaped the infernal fury unleashed upon them.

“Blast it… Jedi, get in there!” barked the rebel leader, his sight never leaving the bloody mess that used to be his comrade in arms.

Ignoring the terribly incorrect way he had been addressed, Avreet nodded, wearing the usual serene expression that masked his fury. His mastery of the Way of the Ysalamiri would do him little good against a fully automated blaster cannon spitting hundreds of shots per minute; the form was perfectly suited against lightsaber wielding combatants, not ranged weaponry. Even though focusing exclusively at the second form partially eliminated the weakness, the situation still spelled suicide. Further dragged down by injuries sustained from the fall, the Mon Cal fully realized he wouldn’t stand a change. Deep breaths. It’d be hard, but weaklings had no place among the Sith. Once the level of anticipation in the Force reached its peak, Veles took a shaky step forward.

[member="Decima Fortan"]