Sovereignty among an Imperial Ember; Imperial Confederation Dominion of Nyeon

[Eisenweber]

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Nyeon would only ever 'join' this new government willingly and cooperatively through the favorable devolution of local legislative power and representation. The military oligarchy and the influential Corporations which hold sway over the planet would be threatened by such a major power encroaching into their space leading to a desire for a level of delegated political power for the presently Sovereign Colony. ​

​

Imperial officials would need to persuade the Nyeon state to accept the Confederated Imperial Systems of the Core Worlds' Constitution, to permit their military units to be absorbed and re-equipped into the Imperial Army and join the growing Country as a Colony, preferably it would be done through peaceful negotiations. Though those leaders who resist the urging of a significant portion their own Citizens and that of the Core Imperial Confederation would be persuaded in time......And those who proved too obstinate? Could always be forced to resign upon threat of salacious revelation or disappeared clandestinely into the black of night.​

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Do what must be done you faithful servants of the Emperor, go forth and spread the enlightenment of the Imperial State bring this new Colony into the secure and protective embrace of your country and lead them into the prosperous and bright future we have to offer all worlds of the Core.​

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Objectives:
1. Imperial Naval Administration (Navy/Parliament) - The tactical prowess of the Nyeon Defense Fleet (NDF) is weak and unorganized as it has been since the Winter War revolution. The NDF will be accompanied by Imperial Naval Officers along with Imperial Political figures in a sense of 'Good Will' towards the Nyeon State. This will involve things from negotiating with the self-righteous admiral of the NDF, Samantha Hawkins, along with teaching Nyeon naval officers and imperial officers alike in the arts of Imperial naval operations and tactics

2. Imperial-Nyeon Sovereignty Declaration (Parliament) - Nyeon wants to join the Confederation and secure similar political powers devolved to more deserving Colonies, not forced to the will of the Imperial Government. The political and corporate leadership of Nyeon must be convinced to join the Empire and to find a mutual agreement between the two factions. Whether that be through heated political discourse or the culling/replacement of certain influential Nyeon Citizens..that shall be left to you, but discretion is important should you provide the stick and not the carrot.

3. Winter Comes to Falter to Spring (Army/Imperial Security Bureau) - Nyeon has always been a corrupt planet with corporate and political greed and nothing has changed even since the Winter Revolution which took millions of lives. A large Imperial Army Barracks must be constructed on Nyeon's surface to protect and safeguard the planet in the event of armed insurrection from its' myriad terrorist organisations. Even with the construction of such a garrison, even now, the terrorist group called ‘Winter Revolutionaries’ are at large and on the cusp of initiating a second revolution...see to it that they do not.


4. BYOO (Bring your own Objective)

Special thanks to [member="Varian Alaric"] for this Dominion Outline, it has been slightly edited from the Draft.

[member="Tanomas Graf"], [member="Aram Kalast"], [member="Seto Du Couteau"]

 

[Shran]

Location: Personal Quarters, Imperial Class SD
Objective: 2 (meet with; Director of Foreign Affairs, NEO Director and Head of Security)
Tags: Other Objective 2 players(?)

Here he was again, off to preach the good word of the Imperial Confederation to the galaxy. The information the Empire had on the planet was impressive to say the least. The planet itself seemed like it would be a great ally if they chose to join the Confederation. Of course, the alternative was a military occupation of the planet but citizens never like that and as minister of the defense department, it just meant more paperwork for him so it was a lose lose and a situation. Frankly this whole process was a headache for him. Overseeing the everyday defense of the Confederation was no problem for him. It was the instillation of a new planet that was the issue. This meant diverting resources to defend the planet, reallocating supplies, ranking the planet on a list of importance in the event the Confederation needed to consolidate its forces and only protect planets of key strategic importance. The problem with the First Galactic Empire was their defense. The Empire was more or less corrupt, and while Shran remained loyal to this reincarnation of that once proud Empire, he could not ignore that, objectively, only planets that were of importance to Emperor Palpatine himself were granted priority status and defended as such. The result of this error was the collapse of the Government as strategic systems and planets fell one after the other. Shran had no intention of making the same mistake.

He put down the pad with the planetary information on it and activated the mini holoterminal on his desk, tuning in to HoloNet News. The image of a female news anchor with a small graphic beside her of starships exploding. "More bad news tonight from the First Order as they continue to fight for their very survival. Initial reports suggest that the Order has been forced to retreat to the world of Bakura..." Bakura, once a place Shran had called home many years ago. That was where he got his start in politics. He had served as the mayor of one of the major cities. He had only done it to expose a crime ring and bring them to justice and when his task was complete, he served out the rest of his term before leaving to come back to the Imperial Confederation. It pained him to think that most of the people he had met, the friends he had made were probably all dead by now. Or soon will be. However, his grief would have to wait, as his thoughts were interrupted by a voice over the comlink; "Minister, we will be arriving at the planet momentarily." Shran flicked off his holoterminal and stood up, stragigtening his uniform. "Acknowledged. I'm on my way."

Shran got to the bridge just as the ship dropped out of hyperspace and slowed to a stop. "Communication coming in from the surface sir." "Put it through." Shran stood at the center of the bridge, peering out at the impressive shield gate. "Imperial Star Destroyer, this is Nyeon ground control, please identify." "This is Defense Minister Shran of the Imperial Confederation, code: 4-5-7-Delta-2." There was a brief pause before the voice came through again, "The code checks out. Welcome Minister, please come down at your earliest convince." With that, the transmission cut out. "Lieutenant, prepare my shuttle. I will depart as soon as it's ready."

 

[Cynthia Alucard]

Cynthia Alucard, Pixie Wing Commander
Objective: 1 Imperial Naval Administration (Navy)
Location: Naval Headquarters, Pilot Training Center
Attire:

Spoiler: Normal Civilian Uniform

Spoiler: Normal Civilian Uniform

Young Alucard positively beamed at the chances of instructing more pilots once again, especially since her own Pixies had been reassigned to act as assistants as she instructed the pilots of the Nyeon Navy. Proper Imperial Tactics and Protocol the sheer amount of work presented for her only grew her smile as she knew that such training would be long and arduous. Silently though, she prayed to one in particular but mostly to the galaxy, that she would not be pulled away once the 'majority' of the lessons were covered. Much like her last instructing mission, it ended poorly when it was asked that she was reassigned to attend flight maneuvers of her Pixie Wing.

Cyn had feared that war was approaching, and with the declaration of their own government echoing similar sentiment, she had dreaded her next combat flight mission. Instead, out of sheer lunacy, the New Republic had lost all of its will power to even exist as a proper government in many forms since their defeat by the hands of the Confederacy of Independent Systems. If she could, she would buy the Confederate pilots a round of drinks for their noble attack on the Republic.

The fears were quelled, and Cyn had grown to relax and understand the situation of the Core, even though the Corellians were uprising they weren't a threat until either her own government felt Corellia infringed upon their sphere of influence. Which I pray to never happen. War was the last thing Cyn wanted, but despite her wishes and wants the devil had often pulled the galaxy into more chaotic situations before and no doubt would do so again. In a way, Cyn felt flattered by the attempts that galaxy had on her life, to see her inside a TIE cockpit nearly getting blown into the cold void of deep space.

The simulation rooms were not far off, and the rest of her Pixies would soon converge once they finished their work on assuring the practice fighters were fueled and suited for flight demonstrations. "May I keep myself well ahead of war as it chases me everywhere in the galaxy." Cyn mumbled.

 

[Varian Alaric]

Name: Andrea Valesquez​

Position: Federal Intern​

Goal: Objective II​

Status: Concerned​

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​

"A meeting between the Nyeon government and this 'Core Imperial Confederation' is set to take place today behind closed-doors. Having only been a week sine their first arrival, and two weeks since naval scouts first discovered them, protests continue in response to these 'things.' These foreigners, these aliens are seen, by many, as trustworthy...at least to the protesting crowd we are showing you now. With it only being six days since the attack against Nyeon Military Base 'Rorche,' some people are skeptical as to the intentions of these newcomers, seeing them as untrustworthy and even seeing them as being as terrible as the infamous President Goodwil. Some have even thought as much as to accuse these aliens as being the attacks against 'Rorche,' however authorities point to gathered evidence against insurgences. Whatever this meeting may hold, the people of Nyeon know that this day will go down in history. This is Rick Stefanson with Nyeon International News--"

Andrea's cybernetic index finger clicked the power button on the remote, collapsing the image into itself and causing the holographic television screen to fade away into nothingness. She set the remote down onto the glass table of the room before gathering up her holo-pad and holding it under her arm. A sense of dread overcame her at the thought of what was going to happen today, everyone dreaded it and hated it. The people of Nyeon were not united by much save their love of cybernetics though even that was overly subjective, though one thing that did unite them all was their vow of independence and self sovereignty. People wouldn't allow this 'Core Imperial Confederation' as they preferred to be called to take over. However, it wasn't up to them, it never truly was. The decision wasn't their's to make, it was the governments decision, and the corporations decision. Andrea, like everyone else, was just a commercial chip to the mega-corporations and a faceless worker to support the government, forgotten to the whims of history and those who wrote such things.

Even now, the woman found working within the government strange. She had never wanted to join the government, though she had decided to do it to appease her mother. They needed the money after all, and after her father had walked out on his mother six years ago, they needed the extra income more than ever. It wasn't a question as to whether Andrea could work, it was a question as to how much she could earn...something which working for the government fixed, ironically enough.

Just as she walked through the door exiting from the recreation room and entering into the meeting room, she came face-to-face with the head of the government, Johnson Keys. She hid her disgust easily, you had to learn such things when you grew up on the streets poor after all. The man's cybernetic blue eyes looked down at her for a split-second before turning away as he began to speak to another person of high-standing.

Typical.

 

[Kier Grey]

Vetka Hal
Asteriod 77 The Golden City, Gravity Tether Tower #1
Objective: #3 Winter Comes to Falter Spring
Tags: [member="Varian Alaric"], [member="Kraken Society"], [member="Cynthia Alucard"], @Shran
Nearby: N/A

Vetka's hands carried them up an inert turbolift shaft towards the precipice of a gravity tether tower within the Golden City. Prying apart a pursed Durasteel shaft door a robed masked assassin immediately lunged forward brandishing a broadsabre in one hand they chopped at the near seven-feet tall armoured warrior only for Vet to catch their wrist in a dexterous display of reflexes. Their Human lips made an almost feline snarling sound towards that mysterious and persistent white-armoured warrior who had dogged their every step for a week. Long in advance of the Core Imperial Confederation's arrival.

It was child's play to prevent the man from shoving Vetka's several hundred kilograms worth of armoured mass back down the Elevator Shaft, her thoughts carried into the multi-million credit suit of powered armour she was entombed within. The dauntless Vetka cannon'd a fist straight into the man's cloth cowled visage with a sickening crack prompting his broadsabre to drop harmlessly down into the depths of several hundred floors beneath their feet, he struggled with slack weak hands clawing at the steel of powered armour while thumbs sunk into the two sockets beneath his eyebrows.

"Goodbye" She smirked wryly just before coldly pitching the terrified wailing Insurgent with a thrust into the hungry maw of darkness before his throat ceased to make any sound with his skull cracking and exploding like a glass window against one of the shaft walls in a rain of slick icor. Both boots pivoted, turning Vet's armoured body towards a whole squad of men who cursed and shouted in loud disgust watching one of their comrades get punched and throttled to their death in three quarters of a second was a frightening thing to witness; a life taken without effort or hesitation.

Vetka Hal wasn't about to let the Winter Army succeed in their ambitions to sunder the entire Golden City today, the Confederation would be made proud today. For every sloppy shot the greatcoat wearing rebels took at the porcelain woman who answered with a single well-placed shot that struck them no lower than clavicle and no higher than bridge of nose, her marksmanship the product of a woman who required neither a spotter or high-powered optic to land shots their skill nothing short of Herculean in this respect.

"Listen here Hero, we're going to win this war. My men aren't motivated by the promise of wealth or intimidated by the threat of death, but those corporate masters of yours? Oh they fear death, and their precious factories will soon lie in ruins." Hector Vondoon's voice taunted over the loudspeakers scattered throughout the tower infested with revolutionaries hell-bent on bringing down the Golden City. Vetka wasn't alone in the assault, teams of Security Bureau Agents teemed through its' innards fighting like an immune system against an ideological infection that had too long used Nyeon as a parasitic host. Insofar as the power armoured warrior was concerned Vondoon's bravado told a man who feared the possibility of failure.

Hollow steaming shells that had once been men were left behind in the spectre's vicious wake bursting through each room and ignored the many blaster bolts that punched through her deflector shield against armour in a desperate race against time which necessitated that injuries be ignored and go untreated, she spoke in something that wasn't quite a growl and wasn't quite a laugh. "Not before you!" The annunciator distorted the pitch and frequency of Vetka's natural and heavily accented voice to something more akin to a droid although still distinctly feminine.

 

[Huxy]

Name: Joaquin Cortes​

Location: Asteroid 77, The Golden City, Gravity Tether Tower #1​

Position: Winter Revolutionary Member​

Goal: Objective III: Insurrection​

Status: Chem-fueled​

| [member="Kyli Graf"] |​

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Joaquin's cracked lips parted, releasing a haze of smoke from his now ajar mouth. The open space soon was replaced by the cigarette that he held fixated between two cybernetic fingers, the euphoria of the chem-sig rising and falling through the male's being as it wafted through his body, calming his stressed mind. He knew that this was a dangerous business, it always was when you ran illegal operations especially with the bastardy corporations trying to control everything, chems and cybe-mods helped to alleviate the stress, pain, and mash of emotions that came from living in such a society. Most people remained contempt in life, taking it as it was and not bothering to want to change things. Cortes was not one such person. The chemical euphoria dug through the man's mind, waving away worries and making his knitted brown eyebrows level-out against the bridge of his brow. He exhaled a breath of smoke, glazed over cybernetic eyes watching the digital feed of the camera system from his left wrist, keeping his right hand down, the bud of the cigarette pointed away temporarily.

These Core Imperial Confederation aliens were corporate puppets, it was easy to see. The corporations would lay claim to some self-orchestrated misdeed to get a leg-up so to speak on this alien empire to help spread their own corporate influence. From thence they would gain control, they had done such things before and they would do such things once more.

Cortes watched whoever this alien individual was assault the insurgency base, killing insurgents with ease. There were others alongside it yes, though they were relatively unarmored. This new individual seemed as a behemoth of the battle-field.

He watched as a strike droid made it's way through corridors and rooms before it came face-to-face with this onyx newcomer. As soon as it's optics caught sight of the white armor form, it's launchers whirred into action, firing off bolts of ionized machine gun fire and self-propelled shrapnel rockets.

 

[Kier Grey]

Vetka Hal
Asteriod 77 The Golden City, Gravity Tether Tower #1
Objective: #3 Winter Comes to Falter Spring
Tags: [member="Cynthia Alucard"], [member="Kraken Society"], [member="Varian Alaric"], @Shran
Nearby: [member="Kraken Society"] (Joaquin Cortes)

Fin-stabilised rockets roared pass Vetka's helmeted head exploding against the timber and ferrocrete surfaces of the Gravity Tether Tower's interior. "Blast!" She growled within confines of helmet before using the pair of Ion Thrusters over shoulders and magnetisable boots to leap clear of the floor, sprinting at seventy-two kilometers per hour along a vertical wall with its' Durasteel panels giving way beneath both of her heavy armoured boots.

Vetka's Ion-Powered advance sounded like a Banshee's wail not unlike that ubiquitous shriek associated with oncoming TIE Fighters. Ionized bolts of blue-hot plasma spattered across her Deflector Shield rippling bants of energy coalesced across the armour's frame with each received shot. "Raaaaaaaa!" Blood sheeted from her nostrils within the confines of helmet leaping like some predatory feline atop the walker's chassis Vetka placed both palms against its' body.

Streaks of white crackling electricity visible coursed from Vetka's powered armour into the droid-walker's chassis, the individual field disruptor robbed her Deflector Shield Generator of power albeit situated on-top of it the Strike droid could hardly retaliate with any efficiency. Hal had elected to fry its' internal components behind the protective armour plating and if that wasn't enough for good measure she steadily placed a charge of plastic explosives over the panel she suspected based on the aurebesh lettering its' control unit laid beneath.

The Droid collapsed in the wake of a cloud-coloured spectre, Vetka Hal took a breath.

The rebels must have help from the inside, no way anybody this disorganized and ramshackle could seriously threaten a corporate oligarchy. I should take this leader of theirs alive if possible and deliver him to the Security Bureau. No doubt they'll make use of his labour in prison. Looking at the G-6E Light Repeating Blaster in her hands, Hazel eyes took note of the battery pack's charge and released an unnecessary disappointed non-committal sigh. Another reality of war always forgotten by Historians. Hal mused wordlessly.

A dull whisper swirled lazily through the white warrior's mind, it was the voice of a man who had been long dead asking what Vetka was doing still fighting in an age and life where she could have comfortably retired to a life of relative obscurity. My duty as a soldier was to protect the lives of the innocent, no matter what it cost. The woman who had once been a Death Trooper murdered another four Winter Insurgents in close-quarters with their hands leaving both gauntlets dripping wet with the lives of her slain enemies.

Hal entered a lobby on its' second of two floors above the ground, one wall was lined with no less than four descending turbolifts no doubt laden with Troops sent to hopefully prevent any further advancement. Even if it meant victory had to be purchased with my own life. Clutching the remains of a Grande-Filled Bandolier in one hand and a bloodied G-12A Blaster Rifle's pistol grip in the other she obscured herself from sight behind the five and a half feet tall Durasteel railing. What am I doing now? Exactly what I've always had to do for that purpose to be fulfilled. Fight and Win.

Streams of dark sanguine blood trickled and dripped lazily from earlobes, the legacy of Project: AFTERLIFE and a chime piqued up happily through the carnivorous room as the first of several turbolifts arrived.

 

[Seto Du Couteau]

Seto Du Couteau
Location: Nyeon, Industrial Sector
Objective: Three Winter Comes to Falter Spring
Actions: Approach first staging point of Winter Revolutionaries attempting to disrupt Production
Attire:

Spoiler: Suit

​

The young Du Couteau had never fancied himself a soldier, not even as a child had he ever aspired such military prestige much to his parent's relief no doubt. Though no amount of struggle or will could ever stop what the galaxy had in store for the poor Du Couteau lad, as he was now only a few meters away from the Imperial Barracks built to establish a sense of security on Nyeon. Seto had never been one too inclined on the idea of total security or peace, as to acquire such a state there needed to be a careful balance of happiness with the population as well as struggle to achieve something greater.

"Doesn't look like anything but struggle here," Seto calmly spoke to himself, the reports painted a bleak picture for Nyeon and anyone living among the Industrial sector. The only prosperity came from the Galactic Government ready to exploit such a diamond in the rough. And the Confederacy more than willing to assure the wealth here supports our cause. Seto allowed the rest of the through to wander off to the back of his head and he continued his quick pace down the street.

Seto frowned as his lips twisted into a sneer as his hand readjusted his filtration mask, the cover offended him but worse yet the air around him had a rather poor quality of breathable air that force Seto's hand. His attire also matched his dreary mood, dark and black clothing with a black cloak to cover the rest of his back. His own comfort unfortunately had been placed second in priority, More like third or even fourth, as his mission required a more deft hand to deal with certain 'Revolutionaries' rumored to have stationed near high at-risk Corporations.

"Marr, do keep care of the mission's parameters, key figures must be eliminated first." Seto voiced over his comms with his sister. Perhaps the only peace of mind was that he needn't worry of buying another set of heels for her afterwards this mission. I mean, I'd still buy another different pair, but at least it won't be because she ruined yet another pair.

"I can take care of myself." Seto reminded.

[member="Marriskcal Lati"]

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Captain Marriskcal Lati,
Commissariat for State Security & Force-Related Affairs
Objective: #3; Winter comes to falter Spring
Equipment: Lightsaber x2 (Cyan & Azure), RAKGHOUL Battle Armour, T-8B Self-Loading Precision Carbine, Throwing Knives
Location: Industrial Sector, Nyeon
Interacting with: [member="Seto Du Couteau"]

Nyeon… reminded her a lot of Eriadu.

Its skies were drab and overcast, the usual blue that the young woman has come to expect hidden by a polluted haze. Even with the short time she has spent on its surface, Marriskcal thought Nyeon an exceedingly ugly world and she found herself wishing for the assignment to be done and over with, so that she and her brother could leave.

But despite her displeasure, the blonde remained quiet.

Encased once more in a familiar armour of red and black, Marriskcal stood within the shadows of a grey building that was built on the foundations of grey ground. Her gaze was calm and steady as she checked the readings that flowed across her display, as she waited for the communications from Seto before she advanced. The politics of this world was not something she concerned herself about, but the notion that constructing a garrison in such a volatile climate seemed foolish to her.

Unless they were also using this to draw out the insurgents…?

She tilted her head in contemplation.

Perhaps.

But no matter what the plans of the upper echelon were, they were merely faceless beings to the young woman. Marriskcal did not care for their thoughts and their visions, merely that their grand schemes placed her brother in danger more often than not. And just as the thought of the white haired male alighted in her mind, his tenor filtered through the system, the accent of his words edged with a faintest hint of legato due to the mask he was wearing.

“Who do you take me for, Seto?” the hunter asked in a jaunty lilt, her hands coming to push herself lightly from the wall she was leaning against. Tapping the tip of her boot against the ferrocrete surface, she moved towards the ledge of the building, the HUD display automatically focusing on the form of her brother. “And I know. But knowing does not stop me from worrying.” After all, he was playing bait for her. And while they were instructed to limit collateral damage, the insurgents did not have the same constraints that they did.

“Let us make a bet~ If you do get hurt on this mission, you’ll let me take the younglings out for survival training.”

Allowing her brother to think over the small challenge she threw before him, Marriskcal took in a deep inhale and leapt across the small distance between the buildings, her aura silencing the touch of her steps as she began to advance, moving in parallel to the white haired male.

Mm. Boots are still the best~

​

 

[Huxy]

Name: Joaquin Cortes
Location: Asteroid 77, The Golden City, Gravity Tether Tower #1
Position: Winter Revolutionary Member
Goal: Objective III: Insurrection
Status: Chem-fueled
| [member="Kyli Graf"] |
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Joaquin's cybernetic globes watched the scene unfold from the camera's with piqued interest. The droid was no match for whoever this individual was, nor were most of his fellow insurgents. He knew this, and he saw this clear as day. Exhaling a puff of smoke from between cracked lips, the smoky vapor blowing outwards and fanning across the camera system. The only thing that this cell of the Winter Revolutionaries could do was try and and overwhelm this newfound opposition with numbers. Their tech was good, their cybernetics were good, their guns were good, however, this onyx-armored behemoth would shrug off whatever was thrown at them. Cortes had seen it firsthand from the live-recording, and he knew that there would be more of them.

Hector Vondoon was a fool, that much was certain. Setting up a base of operations inside a gravity tether tower, while initially good, was a foolish concept, militarily and strategically. Though he hadn't hearkened Joaquin's words, he knew the folly and deathtrap that this place would be. If anything, the gravity tether towers would have been a good place to blow up, a perfect domestic attack to send everyone panicking. And yet, Vondoon being the fool he was, thought the gravity tower was a perfect area to stockpile weapons, ammunition, and explosives

Explosives.

Joaquin stood up from the chair he was in, trapping the chem-cig between pursed lips and he activated his comn with a simple mental message to a cyber-chip implanted into his brain.

"Delay the soldier for as long as possible, Corporal Rixen, I have an...idea."

Soldiers rushed out of the turbolifts, instantly firing upon the onyx-armored woman. They kept to a loose formation and used what available cover their was, their technology was a mix of Nyeon and of Imperial make...

 

[Aram Kalast]

High Commissar-Director Aram Kalast, ​

Regent-Commander of Teta Empress and Overseer of the Koros Sector.​

Currently On-board the Imperial Star Destroyer Vengeance
Orbiting Nyeon


The Vengeance was in every way an Imperial Navy Star Destroyer. It had a Captain, it had stormtroopers and it had Imperial Crew. It’s serial number was perfectly in line with every other element of the battlegroup and higher command it belonged to and it boasted many great commendations from its years of service outside of the confederation back to before the formation of the First Order.

The Vengeance also held a secret.

The Star Destroyer was an element of Imperial Intelligence, the Commissariat and currently the acting command ship of the High Commissar-Director himself, be as loose a title as it was and definitely one that wasn’t broadcast openly across the shared channels. In fact the only people who knew of the High Commissar-Director’s presence were currently aboard the ship, and most in very close proximity to him. Be that willingly or not.

“I don’t want excuses I want results.” Aram said calmly as he looked out over the wide open space that held the subjects. “These are not results.”
He had turned to stare at another who was clad in similar black official attire. An elder of a man with wisps of white hair that could rival Tonamas Graf’s himself. “With due respect sir, these are the results of the first wave. It’s been hard to get the same levels that we were researching on Kamino before the collapse.” They both turned to look back at the hanger sized room beyond, each taking in the lines of liquid filled cloning tanks that lined each square inch of the walls and neat rows like grape-vines at a well kept winery. “If I could only have more time. Or be allowed access to the new stock coming in from—“
“Doctor.” Aram cut him off. “Doctor, you’ve had more time then I originally allocated. I have promises made to parties outside of our own interests who are waiting for the results so I can at least show that we have what I promised we can deliver.” He threw down a data pad he had been holding in his hand. “Instead you give me deficit material and excuses as to why they are not what we originally planned for.”
“They will be, just not this batch.” The doctor muttered. “Not with the complications.”

Aram sighed. Looked to the doctors left and gave a defeatist nod.
“I need results. I need my promises kept and faith in the abilities of the people that I place in charge of such things.” His words were fighting against the sounds of the Doctor who was slowly being choked to death nearby by invisible fingers projected by another of the Empire’s finest secrets. “So I ask this, is there anybody in this room capable of doing as requested?”

There was a moment of thoughtful silence.
“Yes.” This time the speaker was a young officer who was placed near the rear of the room. Young yet not inexperienced was Aram’s conclusion looking at the boy. “I can.”

“Perfect. Consider yourself promoted.” He looked down at the previous doctor. “Somebody clean up the mess.”

 

[Varian Alaric]

Name: Andrea Valesquez
Location: Nyeon Diplomatic Embassy
Position: Federal Intern
Goal: Objective II
Status: Concerned
People: [member="Shran"]?
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What Andrea wouldn't give to get away from this chit-show of a place, she would do anything. And yet, even if given the opportunity, she could not, she could not leave her mother behind to suffer with her medical complications and alcoholism. It was when whenever she did have the opportunity to leave, Valesquez never did. She didn't want to be like her father, and yet, she was becoming more like him everyday. She was an alcoholic like her mother, and like her father. She was someone who had more street smarts than was good to have, just like her father. She wad mad at the world and mad that she couldn't change anything. Just. Like. Her. Father. She didn't want to be the person her father was, though whether she liked it or not, she was her father's daughter and she somehow, someway, was inheriting his traits and behaviors.

Andrea walked over to the opened entrance of the diplomatic embassy, where two guards stood on either side. The amber cybernetic globes in her head shifted nervously to glance at them only to quickly turn away when one of the guard's met her cybernetic optics immediately. She hated being here, she hated working here, but there was no alternative. It was especially worse when there were soldiers here. The tanned woman was afraid that one day someone would recognize her for stealing something or for illegal actions of some sort, and yet, it never happened. At least, it hadn't happened yet.

At this rate, she just wanted these good-for-nothing karking aliens to show up. At least then she could disappear, grab a drink, and get to work on the countless paperwork that she had. While it was better than living on the streets, there was always the fear of being interrogated on a daily basis on the ground of illicit activities along with the occasional disappearance of a colleague only for them to be replaced the next day.

It was always something; "They got a promotion and their old position needed a replacement," or, "They got ill," or "They got gunned down by some street thugs." The excuse was always half-assed, though whoever said it was always good at lying.

 

[Shran]

Location: Nyeon Diplomatic Embassy
Objective: 2
Allies: [member="Varian Alaric"]

Shran's signature red shuttle landed in the shuttlebay of the embassy. As the exit ramp lowered, it was emphasized by a loud hiss and a release of steam that created almost an unwittingly eerie effect as two shock trooper guards exited and stood on either side of the ramp. Waiting to meet him was one of the attache's assigned to the embassy. Shran emerged, strolling down the ramp in his typical extravagant uniform that was complete with epaulets and medals for....who knows what. Frankly he hadn't gotten his position because he worked his way up, winning battle after battle, making him some hero to the Empire. He got his position because of his family connections and nothing more. That being said, he was in no way complaining. The Imperial Cabinet certainly had its perks.

Shran approached the Nyeon attache who bowed her head slightly, "Minister Shran, we are so glad to have you here, if you would follow me this way, I will be happy to take you to the conference room." Her words were met with a reciprocal nod from Shran as well. With that, they headed off to the conference room. As they entered the main building, they came across the frame of a young woman. Shran stepped forward, "Miss, are you with the Imperial delegation?"

 

[Huxy]

Arx Landi, Nyeon Naval Officer​

Location: Naval Headquarters, Pilot Training Center​

Objective: I​

Status: Surprised​

Attire: Nyeon Officer Uniform​

| [member="Cynthia Alucard"] |​

~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~​

Arx was excited that there were foreigners here, finally. It had been one or two years since he had first entered onto Nyeon and sought refugee here, sought a new home. Since, he had seen little of the outside world and of the Galaxy, he knew not what had transpired in his absence. It wasn't through any fault of his own, the fault was all to this disorganized and heavily corrupted oligarchy that tried to rule over the people with an iron fist. He was appalled by their sheer idiocy. He was amused by how blinded they had become at the prospect of greed, everyone on Nyeon wanted something after all and in most cases, they wanted credits. However, Landi only wanted to remain in hiding since his failure. He had led all of those men and women to their deaths and for what? All of their deaths were in vain, their death fixed nothing. He didn't even know if the Sith Empire cared for their fallen or remembered them, it had been so long. One thing he did know, however, was that for all of the faults of his home of the Sith Empire, at least it was organized and efficient.

Nyeon was just a mess of drugs, cyb-mods, and credits...and blood, of course.

The former Sith Empire admiral was happy to finally see people from the Galaxy again, he would finally know what had been happening in the greater Galaxy. The man's hands were fixated in his pockets, fidgeting with the loose strings and fabric which made the walls of his pockets. It was of poor quality, of course, after all all they used was synthetic cloth and wool...everything was bred in a lab, everything was bred from credits. As he walked, his orange eyes caught sight of a short blonde woman, though everyone looked short when you were over six feet tall.

"Hello, miss? I take it you're not from around here, the outfit gives it away."

 

[Kier Grey]

Vetka Hal
Asteriod 77 The Golden City, Gravity Tether Tower #1
Objective: #3 Winter Comes to Falter Spring
Tags: @Cynthia Alucard, [member="Kraken Society"], [member="Varian Alaric"], @Shran
Nearby: [member="Kraken Society"] (Joaquin Cortes), [member="Marriskcal Lati"] [member="Seto Du Couteau"]

Blaster bolts whizzed through the air with that ubiquitous cooking sound followed by the faint scent of Ozone that Vetka could detect even through their helmet's respirators. "Gods, damn it!" She cursed loudly through the annunciator's distorter, several of the bolts found their mark and slammed into the Quadanium steel of her thoracic armour leaving several melted holes bored down to a pliable Durasteel weave bodysuit that laid beneath the harder shell.

It was one against a Legion but the lone solitary warrior steadily began killing the Winter Revolutionaries with cold calculating efficiency moving between pillars and taking methodically aimed shots at their exposed limbs and heads rapidly suppressing many of the Troops yet even so Vetka was visibly shot more than once retreating long enough to permit their onboard Deflector Shield Generator to recharge. It didn't take long before the realisation set in that she couldn't fight and kill all the men in the lobby on the floor beneath her feet, so Vetka did something different.

She leapt over the railing and landed amongst them. "Wha-" Vetka's clenched fist cruched the man's ribs with a single punch to his sternum before she seized his falling body in both hands and used it as a shield against incoming fire while she made a beeline straight into one of the open Elevators before dropping what had been a man and was now little more than a disintegrating mannequin into a puddle of its' own ashes. Vet pressed an 'ascend' button prior to leaping up out of the Turbolift's ceiling through an escape hatch and destroyed the other three lifts by shooting their arrestor cables with her rifle sending them screaming into the darkness below.

With the Turbolift now rising through the shaft towards the Tether Tower's precipice Vet dropped down inside the rising Cylinder, her breathing ragged an indicator of a collapsed lung. No doubt Father would be furious for putting herself into Danger but alas who else could have possibly performed such a dangerous undertaking and had any chance of succeeding? It wasn't conceit just cold hard arithmetic any other force might have been successful but sufficiently fast to prevent disaster? Probably not, Vetka had always been one to seize duty never shying away from responsibility except to her own personal safety.

"This is Arkanian-One to any Security Bureau Personnel within range, message. Over" Her voice was laboured and possessed by a hoarse quality while attempting to contact Core Imperial Confederation personnel within range. Vetka had no idea if anybody could reach the tower in time, especially not airborne but innocent lives were worth the risk as she saw things. Crimson streams trickled from the holes punched through their Darksabre Powered Assault Armour, veins and bones visibly twitched and quivered through her burned limbs metal armour melted.

 

[Seto Du Couteau]

Seto Du Couteau
Location: Nyeon, Industrial Sector
Objective: Three Winter Comes to Falter Spring
Actions: Approach first staging point of Winter Revolutionaries attempting to disrupt Production
Attire:

Spoiler: Suit

​

"Don't you wish to spend time with them? Because surely you'd make an even more difficult bet for me, such as if a single article of my clothing gets damaged by this mission?" Seto suggested, his shoulders relaxed from the tension he hand't realized had been built when he chuckled softly with his response.

The young Commissar continued his walk, not unlike a stroll through the park back home within his many gardens. Though as he continued to walk along, the streets grew silent and Seto slowly unraveled his Force senses to extend ever farther away as he passed many alley ways and corners. Beggars and other low lives that had littered the streets earlier before had all seemingly disappeared from existence and replaced with a faint sense of danger.

Perhaps these Winter Revolutionaries were indeed expecting much bloodshed and much struggle for their effort to come into fruition, but Seto knew that they were playing at a game far larger than anyone could prepare. Many of young gamblers never manage themselves when in a table filled with powerful and experience Sabacc players, and Seto expected these Revolutionaries to burn out just the same. Just like seasons of any planet, winter lasts until spring comes and followed by summer to only cool during fall.

Seto slowed his steps, one of the first staging areas laid ahead of him, several beings stood behind a barrier of sorts with what Seto could determined to be some sort of weapon emplacements. Slowly a few of the beings turned their focus on Seto and he felt their wariness and sudden flash of anxiety and anger.

The Winter Revolutionists Seto mused on his next course of action, he needed to pull them in closer and possibly figure out which one of them could offer up the most valuable information. Once pressed for questions in a certain manner of course.

A voice entered his comms and Seto paused before raising his hands forward, Another agent nearby. The situation changed, a card he had not expected been drawn and placed on the table, now he must deal with event that had unfolded. He could probably risk himself to punch through whatever defenses this staging area held to get access into the building these Revolutionaries were guarding. Or, something less drastic and much more even.

"Marr, if you wouldn't mind seeking out this Agent and figuring out what is needed." Seto voiced to his sister, his voice grew stern as Seto focused on swelling up the Force within his hands, "-I will drag as many of them to me and establish a clearing outside the building." He added.

The three hostiles that slowly gathered themselves to point a heavy repeating blaster in Seto's direction suddenly felt themselves being pushed off the ground and slammed into the buildings next to them as their barricade as well crushed on top of their forms. The Du Couteau heir briskly walked past the first area and held up a single hand to generate a Force barrier, as multiple blaster bolts slammed against the Force entity and many more simply missed their mark terribly.

"I need to teach them some basic manners." Seto frowned, his lips twisted into a sneer as his concentration grew to create another Force attack. Seto demanded all of their attention.

[member="Kyli Graf"] [member="Marriskcal Lati"]

 

[Cynthia Alucard]

Cynthia Alucard, Pixie Wing Commander
Objective: 1 Imperial Naval Administration (Navy)
Location: Naval Headquarters, Pilot Training Center
Attire:

Spoiler: Normal Instructor Uniform

Spoiler: Normal Instructor Uniform

"Eh?" Cyn turned her head, her footsteps stopped as her focused turned towards a rather tall individual that addressed her. A flash of something akin to annoyance soon quickly transformed to stern and resolute face of an ace TIE pilot. "Correct, I am one of the Instructors sent here from the Core Imperial Navy." Cyn explained, her body turned to fully face the man as she offered a stiff salute. "Wing Commander Cynthia Alucard, or Instructor Alucard." Cyn introduced her titles to the man.

Eyes briefly glanced at his attire and Cyn was not exactly clear on the insignia of the Nyeon Navy but he appeared Officer in both mannerisms and stance but she couldn't be confident that this man was not a student of hers or simply an Officer sent to oversee her lessons. Making the distinction was important to the Pixie Wing Commander, after all she couldn't simply appear to him too abrasive and figure out that he was a high ranking officer sent to approve of her instruction or if he was a student.

Likewise she couldn't appear as a push-over or even too friendly and display emotional entanglements that would appear to others as a liability.

This all was a careful tight rope she needed to cross, and once again she was thankful for her diminutive size and turned to face the direction of the Simulation room where she was assigned to instruct the awaiting pilots inside. With her cap over her head she could hide much of her facial features from the taller officer and use her height, or lack of height, to her advantage. Cyn had finally come to terms that her poker face was not up to par for her needs recently and she needed ways to mask her weakness when not wearing a TIE helmet.

"My class is in the sim-room up ahead, best we do not make them wait for more than needed." Cyn explained as she gestured with her hand ahead of them. Her legs quickly marched towards the room and hopefully finally figure out if this Officer was her student or not.

[member="Arx Landi"]

 

[Huxy]

Name: Joaquin Cortes
Location: Asteroid 77, The Golden City, Gravity Tether Tower #1
Position: Winter Revolutionary Member
Goal: Objective III: Insurrection
Status: Chem-fueled
| [member="Kyli Graf"] |
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"Rixen, Rixen come in---Damn, dead."

It hadn't taken long for Joaquin to grab the charges. The male had just begun to set the plasma charges and tune them to the right detonation frequency when he heard the turbolift coming up. Considering that the Corporal had neglected to respond, Cortes had an idea as to who it was that was now within the turbolift. His cybernetic globes looked down towards the ground for a few fleeting seconds, before shifting to the detonator in his left hand. He needed to detonate the pylon now to wreck havoc, to allow the deaths of his fellow insurgents to account for something more than poorly spilled blood. He had, of course, neglected to tell Vondoon about his plan, and why should he? He was an irritant, a fool, a chit-eating bastard. Joaquin cared not if the man died, he had no reason to care for his death.

The cybernetically-enhanced male brought his right hand up to his neck, extending his index finger outwards and pressing it against a small mechanical button which was built into his the scarlet metal color that hung from around his neck. As soon as it was pressed, nanotechnology acted on it's own accord, spreading outwards from it's source and covering Cortes in a sheen of scarlet crimson metal. All it took was a few seconds for the metal to cover the man's skin, going under his clothing to not be hampered by cloth and fabrics that would otherwise impede the progress of the nanotech armor which swarmed his skin in droves like ants, millions, and millions of tiny ants. The armor covered his form, making him appear as a solitude figure made of crimson metal.

He grabbed the detonator from the grasp of his left hand and placed it directly under his left wrist, allowing the nanotech to make a casing for it to hold there. All he needed was three minutes, three long and arduous minutes.

Joaquin stepped out from his hiding place in the cylinder ring, pulling a round cylindrical cartridge from a holster on his hip. Pressing his fingers against an activation button on the cartridge, a metal blade automatically unfolded itself.

And then he swung it at the onyx-armored foe.

 

[Varian Alaric]

Name: Andrea Valesquez
Location: Nyeon Diplomatic Embassy
Position: Federal Intern
Goal: Objective II
Status: Concerned
People: [member="Shran"]
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Andrea has not expected for an alien, for an Imperial, to address her. She was expecting to be overshadowed by Johnson Keys, everyone was overshadowed by him, after all he was the head of the oligarchy. And yet, she was the first person whom the alien laid his pupiless, red eyes on her. Her amber cybernetic globes looked up towards the blue-skinned male, not knowing what to tell him. She had been hating the thought of seeing one of these outsiders, let alone meeting one. She didn't trust them, she didn't trust any of them. Now that she was face-to-face with one of them, she knew not what to do. She always knew what to do, growing up on Nyeon had taught her that after all. One had to make decisions immediately, there was never enough time to sit around and try and formulate a solution. It was always gut-instinct. And, now, in this very moment, Velesquez had nothing come to her mind. Her instincts told her nothing, nothing except...to go along with it. Without hesitation, she nodded to the man before giving a vocal confirmation, hoping that it would be enough to appease this blue alien.

"Yes? Yes, yes I am."

To say the tanned woman felt uncomfortable was an understatement. Though, she knew herself and her body under control, she couldn't afford to break her calm facade now despite how she loathed these outsiders. She wore a mask of neutrality, keeping to her instincts and playing along with these foreigners, playing friend.

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Captain Marriskcal Lati,
Commissariat for State Security & Force-Related Affairs
Objective: #3; Winter comes to falter Spring
Equipment: Lightsaber x2 (Cyan & Azure), RAKGHOUL Battle Armour, T-8B Self-Loading Precision Carbine, Throwing Knives
Location: Gravity Tether Tower #1, Asteroid 77, Nyeon System
Allies: [member="Seto Du Couteau"] | [member="Kyli Graf"]
Enemies: [member="Kraken Society"]

“Well then, since you were kind enough to remedy my lapse, let us agree on that instead,” she agreed with Seto’s words swiftly, lest he decided to alter the deal. Not that she held any doubts that her particular brother would take the utmost care when it came to his attire. Though she remained keen and alert, all was quiet on both sensors and senses as brother and sister proceeded through the industrial area, one on the ground, and one on the roof.

And then, she felt them. The flicker of tiny flames that were gathered up ahead, their presences simmering in resentment. On her display, her sensors also picked up on lifeforms and began to focus in on them. Just as Marriskcal was about to reach for her slugthrower rifle, a vaguely familiar voice filtered through her helmet. Torn between her brother, who has entered the staging area and has the ardent attention of every insurgent in the vicinity, the blonde was tempted to ignore the Arkanian-1’s request.

As if realising her intent, Seto’s own tenor spoke through their private channel. Perched at the ledge of a high building, her gauntleted hands closed for a moment as her desire to stay by his side warred with her sense of duty and responsibility. She took a deep inhale and released it in a sharp exhale, coming to a decision to trust in the other’s decision. “Very well, Seto. I will keep you updated as to the situation as soon as I can. But in the meantime, do not hold back on my account~” The shade of her lilt was of a false cheer, obscuring the knot of anxiety that began to grown within her.

The blonde turned on her heels, switching her comms to make contact with Arkanian-1 even as the display began to track her position. “Arkanian-One, this is Atropos. I can reach you in–” She looked over the telemetry data. While most beings would require at least three minutes to reach the other, Marriskcal was at the peak of her physical prowess. And combined with her aptitude in exerting her influence over the Force to further augment her abilities, “–forty five seconds. Please provide a sitrep as I head towards you. Over.”

With Arkanian-1 sounding like she was in pain, the young woman made the decision to forgo a stealth approach. With the aid of the battle armour and whispers of the Force humming through her form, she appeared to be a blur of black and red as she tore across the skyline. By the time the other woman has finished delivering her report, her own display would show the diamond that was Marriskcal closing in on her.

Her blue eyes were narrowed as she caught sight of movements at the top of the tower from her own position at the adjacent structure. At this distance, the familiar flames in the wind presence of Arkanian-1 brought about a sense of nostalgia within her. Swiftly removing the rifle, Marriskcal allowed her senses to guide her aim, her finger squeezing the trigger when a clear light note resounded through her mind. A trail of ominous crimson pierced across the air, aimed for the chest of the equally crimson armoured hostile that was attacking her.

ALPHA-1.

DT-6767.

Kyli.

“Seto. Be careful. It seems that the insurgents has some form of armour in their possession.”