Faction The Curse of Hamunaptra

[Resurgent Narrative]

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A new outbreak of the Blackwing on one end of the planet and earthquakes with a chance of plagues on the other end. Mephout’s been hit up one way and down the other and none of it good. We’ll need to split up into two teams, one will head out toward Sundiata, the regional capital of the Sahel. The other will need to head to the planet’s capital of New Laveau. Whatever’s going on here we’ll need to get it solved, asap before we can do anything else here. These people are counting on us to get the job done. ​

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TEAM MAREKAJ
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To put it plainly, the First Order needs to stamp this out sooner rather than later. There are exactly three quarantine centers within the Frenier Delta region. They all need to go, and anyone affected by this virus needs to be terminated. We do not have a cure for the Blackwing virus, so do not get sentimental. ​

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Spoiler: Team Marekaj Tasks

• Men and women of the Armed Forces will work together to ensure that nothing and we mean nothing escapes the Frenier Delta. We understand this is a large area. Starfighters you will be on constant patrols and drop markers for our stormtroopers to see. Stormtroopers your task is to set up checkpoints and eliminate any Blackwing-affected victims. Army, your task is to secure the data from the old quarantine centers. Your secondary task is to terminate any stragglers that the Stormtroopers do not catch. Navy, stay in orbit and rotate men and women out of the bayou as necessary.
• Force users if you so choose to accompany the men and women to the Frenier Delta. We would be grateful, keep them safe, and keep yourselves safe. Stay alert, we’re not aware as to how long the virus has been able to run rampant. Only that it needs to end, now.
• Note, you may be able to get assistance from the local gatorfolk as it seems their people have been greatly affected by the Blackwing.

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TEAM KHAMSIN
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Normally we wouldn’t bother with this sort of ‘curse’ superstition, but the folks over at the Society of Archaeological Research think that there’s some sort of credibility to this whole ‘Mummy’ nonsense. You’ll need to work together with the armed forces, the historians and scientists, and any other civilian who volunteers for this. The sooner this whole thing is over the quicker we can really get into Sundiata and help these people. ​

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Spoiler: Team Khamsin Tasks

• Members of the military, your job here is to make sure that the people of Sundiata can see you and see that you’re helping. There’s a make-shift landing pad that we can use to help set up a forward operations base. Starfighters your birds will be retrofitted with advanced imaging gear to help direct rescue efforts. Stormtroopers secure the city, there’s reports of looters and all kinds of criminals trying to make a quick sov off this mess. Army, do what you can to help free people from the wreckage and survey the area to see which buildings have to go and which ones can be saved. Navy, keep an eye on the weather we’ve got reports that there could be a serious sandstorm blowing through the region, and we need you guys to figure out if there’s any true credibility to these ‘plagues’ that have hit the area recently.
• Civilians, yes, we see you treasure hunter types, the field archeologists and so forth. If you’re here for the Mummy then here are some ground rules, don’t interfere with military operations in the city. Do get help from the locals to figure this out and if this thing is real? Shut it down. The last thing these folks need is some pissed off thousand-year-old person bearing down on them with Force knows what.
• Force users, we could definitely use you here. Help the civilians and the military get this mess handled. Whether that’s helping to get people the medical attention they need or clearing up whatever damage this Mummy mess has caused.

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TEAM BACTA​

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The rest of you, get in there and help where you can. New Laveau has set up a quarantine center outside the city just before you leave Robinson Parrish on the road headed toward the Frenier Delta. You’ll be provided with the protective equipment necessary to avoid any infections, so long as you stay in your gear. Now while there is no widely known cure for the Blackwing we might have some connections on getting it cured. This will be your chance to help test those cures and vaccines.
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While Sundiata may have been hit hard it is far from the only city in the region. The city of Musa, while not doing well, isn’t as bad off as Sundiata itself. We can set up a refugee crisis center and begin to help these people heal. Armed forces will also set up a base between the cities and get patrols going to make sure it stays that way. If there are any force users who specialize in healing, well, we’d welcome your assistance. The people of the Sahel region desperately need it.​

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[BYOO]​

Kassandra Distorith | Varick Lechner | Firenne Van-Derveld | Caz Ozzel | Masayu Kimura | Ciara Lockley | Renata Westaway | Drexel Quinn | Arador Terrix | Kurayami Bloodborn | Odesia Ursa | Matma Bernu | Juliana Alderdice | Octavian Zall | Jihun Kim | Bellam Malhan | FN-93263 "Ravage" | Fevris Derzelas | Taeli Raaf | Nylea Apollodor | DG-4582 ​

 

[Ciara Lockley]

( Theme )
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Dig Site Aurbesh
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The wide swathe of land was a veritable zoo. Small clouds of dust and sand blowing about across the dunes of Mephout. Of course, there were larger deserts in the galaxy but this one was far from small. Tents littered the area around Dig Site Aurbesh, large machines and thick durasteel cables easily identified this as none other than an archeological dig though to the untrained eye it could have passed as a mining camp. That assumption however would be cast aside the moment one would hazard a glance into the deep pit the camp seemed centered around. At its base rest a large, carved obelisk - or at least a good section of one. The thing was massive. Even on its side it towered above the small frame of one Ciara Lockley.

Hmm. The woman hummed, her emerald eyes peering at the enormous artifact before her. "Etchings indicate some sort of design, most likely those of a creature. There doesn't appear to be any script or text on the surface." the small recorder at her hip beeped as it paused. A few nimble steps closer brought Ciara nearer a toolbox where she retrieved a small brush and a soft metallic hammer. Careful not to lean against the object she brushed away several clumps of dust from where she'd found the etching. "Still no script though indications suggest the object is much harder than any sort of rock found naturally in the planet's geologic profile." Another beep. Taking the small hammer, she gently tapped on the object, a small mark marring the otherwise pristine surface. A hollow ring echoed in her ears. "That's strange. It sounds as if the object is hollow." she added, taking a step back. Looking up and down the length of the half buried object an expression of realization found itself home upon her features. "Aha!" she exclaimed. "The object in question appears to be an obelisk of some kind, perhaps indicating..." She trailed off, leaning closer to the etchings. "...A tomb of some kind. That would explain why it's hollow!"

Excitedly the woman jotted down a few notes on the datapad she now held in her hands. "Now to just find out how to get in." she wrinkled her nose. "And not trigger any traps in the process." A dimpled frown spread across her cheeks, eyes intently studying the obelisk. If there was a way in, maybe it was towards the base of the overturned obelisk?

 

[Audrey Saint George]

A shuttle banked over Dig Site Aurbesh, and in the small passenger compartment, Audrey Saint George peered over the rim of her spectacles at the dig site below. The reports of a potentially significant discovery had reached the desk of the Director of the newly reconstituted First Order Historical Recovery Division, but crises on Mephout had caused a redistribution of staff, so here she was to investigate, more or less alone save for a pilot. Audrey wore lightweight linen trousers and a wide-lapelled, breathable blouse, a dark kerchief, fashionable but sturdy boots, and pale tan gloves.

The shuttle shifted course, coming in a tightening turn as it plunged towards the ground. The pilot was instructed to land some ways away from the dig site proper -- far enough so as not to kick up dust unnecessarily, for Audrey knew how much a pain in the neck that could be, but close enough that she didn't tire herself out trekking across the sands to get there.

Wide-brimmed hat perched over unruly chestnut curls and blaster strapped to a thigh, Audrey stalked across the landscape towards the tent village. She stopped the first person she saw, identified herself, and asked to be directed to whoever was leading the dig. The man hooked his thumb one way, and Audrey followed the winding path towards the pit where an obelisk lay on its side, dwarfing the pixie-ish woman who was busying herself investigating the obelisk. She lifted her hat in a wave, trying to catch the woman's attention. "Cooey," she called pleasantly. "Director Saint George, Historical Recovery Division," said Audrey cheerfully. "What a find!"

Ciara Lockley​

 

[Nylea Apollodor]

It was beginning to look like Nylea was going to have to get used being around imperials. What to make of that fact, she didn't really know, but it was her reality nonetheless. On Needan, she had been shown a side of the First Order she had never seen from any imperial nation and despite the fact she still had no intention to join their ranks proper, it was somewhat eye-opening. Until that day, all she had seen from their predecessor and other nations with imperial trappings was war, conquest, and death. One only had to look to the other side of the galaxy, to the New Imperials and the Sith Empire to see exactly those things.

But much like on Needan, Nylea once again found herself side by side with the First Order. Mephout too was a planet in dire straits and so the echani was here to lend a hand. She looked to her side, towards Elisea, as the shuttle began making its landing. "Hopefully things will not get as bad as last time," she remarked, memories of the icy planet flashing by. Painful stings still plagued her back from time to time, though it was slowly getting better. She felt good enough to get back out there, anyway.

It was because of Elisea that she had been there on Needan, and once again the Avalonian was the reason why Nylea was now on Mephout. They had come to aid those in need, and that always went above allegiances and loyalties. It was her calling to carry on the legacy of the Sacred Lotus, after all. What exactly caused what the civilians of the planet called a 'curse' was a mystery for now, but hopefully the damage done could be contained. While those with the necessary knowledge would figure things out, the echani was going to be helping out wherever she was needed.

Elisea Korrado Ciara Lockley Audrey Saint George ​

 

[Ciara Lockley]

As she stood further trying to noodle out what the next step was, Ciara was distracted by the low hum of a shuttle overhead. Whomever it was had the courtesy to fly higher than strictly necessary to avoid sending up cyclones of dust - the woman appreciated that. "You'd be surprised how much dust can kick up beneath one of those things." she muttered, quickly correcting herself to the recorder. "Delete that last bit, standby recording." No need to have the device needlessly recording her thoughts at this point. At least, until she discovered something useful. Stepping again up next to the obelisk and resting her hands on her narrow hips, she hmm'd and hah'd for a while. It was one thing to unearth such a find but another entirely to discover its secrets - or in this case, how to enter its halls.

Ciara heard a shrill noise from behind, a greeting. A quick glance over her shoulder allowed her to see Audrey waving her hat in an attempt to gain her attention. Returning the wave, she walked over as the woman introduced herself. Extending a hand, Ciara did the same. "Ciara Lockley. Avalonia Central Library... I suppose. Nice to meet you! A find indeed, it appears to be some sort of obelisk but it's hollow inside. I'm not sure what exactly it could be but after consulting a few older texts it appears we may have found a tomb! Care to take a look?" Ciara motioned towards the obelisk.

Audrey Saint George | Nylea Apollodor | Elisea Korrado​

 

[Elisea Apollodor]

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"I hope not either, but the reports from this area have been sketchy at best." Elisea replied to Nylea matter-of-factly, "there's the dig site, and there is Forward Base Seth. That's where we'll be landing." She pointed out the makeshift base and the old landing pad it was attached to. Seth was somewhere between Dig Site Auresh and Sundiata itself. A team would be prepping to head into the city to relieve the current First Imperial Rapid Response group, the objectives set before the military had been clear, however; FIMS had little bit more leeway. "The museum is in the city and that is where they think this all started."​

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As the shuttle set down at Forward Base Seth, Elisea grabbed her notes. "Here it is, SOAR has said that the Historical Society of Mephout acquired artifacts from Halm, and among them was a sarcophagus but the sarcophagus broke during the quakes."​

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Elisea wasn't a trained forensic scientist but that would be why she was going to meet with a local one at the Historical Society's Museum of Antiquities just outside of Sundiata. It had been part of the new area of development known as "Seti" of course with the earthquake all that had put on hold as they looked to recover from the disaster. The added reports of frogs, water turning to blood, lice, flies, and anything else that sounded like the wrath of a divine. "I'll let the Director of HRD know that that's where we're headed and if we come up with anything interesting."​

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The Avalonian disembarked the shuttle and gathered her things, "I think we can take a speeder from there." She gestured to the droid manning a small alcove of speeder bikes that looked to have seen better days.​

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Nylea Apollodor | Ciara Lockley | Audrey Saint George​

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[Fevris Derzelas]

Location: Quarantine Center, Outside New Laveau.
Wearing: Hazmat suit.
Equipment: N-1 Bioscanner; Medical Supplies.
Armament: SE-14r repeating pistol.
Tagging: Open.

Upon receiving the news of the Blackwing outbreak in Mephout, Dr. Fevris Derzelas had stepped forward to accompany and assist the FIMS divisions that would be on the frontlines of the improptu war against the dreaded virus. Not a stranger to environments with biological hazards or the CBRN defense protocols, the Doctor had made sure to properly equip herself and put on the hazmat suit long before the shuttle carrying the team she had been assigned to neared the Frenier Delta, to later land close to the quarantine center that had been prepared in the outskirts of New Laveau.

Inside the center, doctors, scientist, and medical droids moved swiftly and with purpose, all carrying out tasks that would be quickly replaced by new ones as soon as the current one was completed. Unlike the refugee centers that would be set up in the nearing cities that had not been hit as badly, the quarantine zone was taking in people that had been potentially exposed to the Blackwing virus as they frantically worked to find a way to stop it. A vaccine, more precisely. And the air was filled with tension, both because of the efforts being made and the looming risk of infection.

Fevris was standing inside one of the isolated sections of the center, the space was separated from the rest by a disinfectant passage chamber. Tall walls of thick plastic curtains sealed to the ground surrounded machinery that had been set up for the occasion, an improvised laboratory. After all, there would be no breakthroughs if they didn't have the necessary equipment to make them.

Her attention was drawn away from the datapad she had been inspecting when she heard the voice of a fellow FIMS worker, clad in the same burly attire that were hazmat suits. "Doctor, new samples came in." He said, while handing her a relatively small container, several red warnings painted on top of the clear grey surfaces.

The woman thanked him and immediately proceeded to begin working on those samples. Carefully, she opened the container and took one of the vials out before safely putting it inside one of the machines to begin analyzing it. The rest remained in the container, shut closed once again. This thing, that looked so harmless while within a vial, was the reason why countless people were getting killed today in the Frenier Delta. They needed to find an answer to it, fast.

 

[Matma Bernu]

Equipment:
Lightsaber
SE-44C Blaster Pistol
Charric Rifle


MATMA BERNU

Frenier Delta

Humid. So. Frackin'. Humid.

I surveyed the Delta, flying over the boggy terrain in a gunship with about 29 troopers. I had the options of watching over some civvies and pacifying the riots, or working triage. Honestly, I would gone to New Levau if I was worth a damn as a healer- times like this, a doctor's worth about 100 soldiers, especially one that could get to the bottom of the Blackwing Virus. And as for that whole Mummy thing, what's the big deal? Sounds like some strange soul got it in his head that an old, desiccated corpse was worth a few sovereigns. I couldn't honestly fathom why we had so many civvies on sight for this media circus- much less (if the comms chat was to be believed)- that a Jedi was here?

But, I digress. Unfortunately, I'm best served here- making sure these poor souls find peace. I was snapped out of my reverie by a burst on the comms.

"Knight Bernu, Knight Bernu do you copy?"

"This is Bernu, go ahead Control."

"We've had several squads of stormtroopers vanish over the last few hours- the Breviostrians are reporting some of their missing as well. They were heading to a quarantine center. We need you set down your craft, proceed through the checkpoints with some men, rendezvous with the Breviostrians, and look into this."

I was about to respond in the affirmative, but then I froze as a question came to mind. Well, nothing ventured, nothing gained.

"Control, can't we just follow the markers the troopers put down, take advantage of the air superiority?"

"Negative, Knight. Environment is not amiable to your gunship. And as you know, your embedded with one of our rapid response teams- we need them free to ensure no infected break the lines. You will be working with assets on ground already only."

Of course, foliage and all- well, it was still worth a shot. Honestly, if the Breviostrians didn't live here, I'd just suggest a controlled Base Zero Delta and pick off the stragglers.

"Roger, Knight Bernu out." I motioned to the pilot to set down. Hopping off the bird with a couple of troopers, I ignored the squelch of mud and Force knows what else, and made my way to the first checkpoint.

And as the I flashed my credentials, and consented to the medical exams, I couldn't help but feel a wrongness in the Delta.

 

[Bellam Malhan]

Caz Ozzel
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Be they hover or tracked, any ground that wasn't solid was anathema to a tank. Being sent into a delta was essentially throwing a legless bantha into a lake. Orders being what they were, though, he didn't have a choice. Normally accustomed to heavier armor and tracks, the lighter repulsor tank was a different but not unwelcome change.

Better they skimmed over the water than drowned in it.

Mission briefing had told him they were here to collect data and thoroughly melt anything that looked like it should be dead. In fact, the recommendation was rather specific: re-dead them immediately. With the hatch open, the humid air assaulted his armored body. Sweating profusely, he almost wanted to take the helmet off, but dare not risk it. While initially infected were little more than shambling beasts, they could and did quickly learn their hosts skills.

That meant he could very well take a blaster bolt to the face. Tuned to the intratank comm frequency, he lifted a set of binoculars to his eyes and scanned the path ahead. Behind him rode more tanks, and all were ferrying small squads of infantry that would be used to secure the quarantine centers while they secured the relevant data.

A roar of engines caused him to lower the binocs, and he lifted his gaze in time to see gunships screech by overhead. "Stick to the river for another four kilometers. Should be a fishing village there. Quarantine center is two klicks inland from there." A gloved hand passed over his visor, spraying water vapor marring his sight for the moment.

"Let's hope we get there before it's overrun." It would be easier to kill the sick than the turned.

 

[Caz Ozzel]

An audible gulp sent quiet static over the tank's internal comms. It had taken Caz the better part of their trip thus far to finally get a handle on the throttle controls of the smaller, lighter tank they now occupied. He was sure he'd pay for it later by raking dejarik boards in the sand of the local Trooper HQ Office. "Stick to the river, 4 kilos. 2 klicks inland. Copy that Sarge." he echoed in the affirmative. Giving the tank a little more gas he grinned. Now they were moving. For once their mission environment made it easy enough to pilot the vehicle without relying on scopes, the driver's hatch pinned back and Private Ozzel's helmet sticking up out of the hull. Like the Sergeant, his visor caught spray from time to time but the young trooper found it welcome to the cold of Needan or the dust and sand of Mephout.

The scenery whipped by, not nearly long enough for Caz to really get a grasp for the inland terrain. I guess I'll figure that out when we get down river. he mused. Aside from that, the small knot in the pit of his stomach was quelled for the time being, the speed of the tank and adrenaline rushing through his veins as it floated above the water enough to keep his mind off their task. At least I'm not the gunner. he thought to himself. Their mission was pretty simple as it had been explained, but that didn't keep him from wondering about Blackwing - it sounded horrible. He just hoped once they arrived he'd be able to set the tank in a spot and let the others do the work. The thought of killing people who hadn't yet been overcome by the virus had left a sour taste in the back of his mouth. It won't come to that. It won't. he coaxed himself.

Bellam Malhan​

 

[Resurgent Narrative]

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The Quarantine Center outside of New Laveau was the best that FIMS could have done in short notice. Even so, Commander Marasigan was grateful that they had the one thing that perhaps very few could claim. A cure for the Blackwing, or at least that's what was in the cooler that she carried. She was so grateful to not have to suffer the heat and humidity of the Frenier Delta. New Laveau had been built on a swamp and while the swamp might be gone the heat and humidity were not. Marasigan checked her hazmat suit over and double-checked it just to be sure everyone working was well aware of the risks that they took.​

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Tall plastic walls covered by even taller and thicker slabs of quick-dry duracrete blocks. Marasigan held the cooler in one hand and opened doors with the other. A decontamination shower sprayed a layer of aerosol sanitizer before she could even get into the plastic tunnel that led to just one of the sections within the quarantine center. Marasigan sighed she hoped this Silver Rain vaccine worked, the military types were getting itchy - ready to kill anything that moved, infected or not. Then again, she could scarcely blame them - Blackwing was... Brutal, and that was an understatement.​

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The Commander would be working alongside one of FIMS up and coming doctors, Fevris Derzelas . Another step into another decontamination shower before she could enter the same bubble. Other FIMS workers were scurrying about and the Commander made a b-line straight for the Doctor. "Let's hope this works," she quietly set the cooler down on a clean space of counter. "Moff Council managed to secure a sample of this Hestizo-201 vaccine."​

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"W-we al-always g-get the nice ones, huh?" Cee Dee managed to get out as peered out the viewfinder and all he could see was muck. "We, we can handle it though." His confidence was somewhat there then again twinkle-hands wasn't entirely sure they'd even see anyone. He hoped so at least, but then he supposed if he had anything of a conscious he wouldn't be in the gunner's seat, or at least that's what they told him in basic. Before he was assigned to a tank crew.​

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Sarge opened the hatch and Cee Dee instantly felt sick with the heat that seemed to drop into the tank. He felt the tank get a little more 'gumption' as Caz gave it more gas. Adrenaline seemed to linger in the back of Cee Dee's body he felt it there, just ready to surge up for when he would need it most. When he would have to act and not think, because if he thought about it - there would be no way he could carry out his orders. What if they were wrong and they weren't infected? It wasn't an easy thing he surmised. Their job was relatively simple and at least this time there weren't any black fin-backs to come up and eat them... Right?​

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Meanwhile, Matma Bernu would have to get down into the bayou itself and meet with one of the Brevisrostrii's Lawmen. Even the notion of missing people in this kind of mess sent chills down the Lawman's back. Alshao "Amos" Laurier would be the Knight's point of contact. It was one thing to have undead humans running around. It would be another entirely if the virus struck the Gator communities. Something no one in the bayou wanted in any way shape or form. The Knight would be informed to meet with Sherriff Laurier at the station in the town of Shortleaf. There was exactly one speeder pad in and out of the town the only other way was by water. Hoverboats were placed there for the First Order's humanoids.​

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Sherriff Laurier popped a cigar and waited for the Knight to arrive. ​

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Caz Ozzel | Bellam Malhan ​

 

[Ryker Atreides]

Inhale. Exhale. Hold. Squeeze.

Fzatt!

Inhale. Realign. Exhale. Hold. Squeeze.

Fzatt!

Repeat.

The suppressed sound of the modified blaster rifle barely let off a sound, the near invisible bolts erupting with tangible force from the end of the weapon's barrel as it streaked towards its target. Once there, naught was left but viscera, ash, and carbon scoring on whatever unfortunate tree, brush, or otherwise had been behind it at the time. This time, the targets weren't enemy soldiers, materiel, or military vehicles - they were roaming undead. Infected of the Blackwing virus. It was hard to tell how long ago they were infected, Ryker wasn't a scientist. At least, not in the conventional sense. He squeezed the trigger and it caused a reaction. That was about where the similarity stopped. Alerting command of his situation he engaged his local comm.

:: Viper One, Two Targets down. Repositioning. ::

Keying into the shared comms the recon unit had with their armor element, Sgt. Atreides relayed new information.

:: Viper to Allied Armor. Enemy infected between you and objective. Two down, about a dozen more remaining. Possible mounted weapon in your path. ::

It was the best he could do from this angle, he could barely make out a heavy tripod and some sort of weapon mounted on it. He'd have to get closer and approach from a different angle if he wanted to identify it clearly. Well. Time to move. he thought to himself. Pushing himself up slowly from his prone position, he brought his legs up beneath him into a crouching position before carefully stepping through the brush. So far he'd gone unnoticed but he couldn't afford a muck up here. While the undead weren't quite as adept as enemy soldiers, it didn't take them long to learn and they far outnumbered the lone scout.

Bellam Malhan | Resurgent Narrative | Caz Ozzel​

 

[Kurayami Bloodborn]

Kurayami had spent the time on his way here in meditation onboard his corvette. The ship dropped out of hyperspace above Mephout, a planet he had heard was being ravaged by Blackwing. What brought him here though was not simply a drive to help, but the mystery surrounding the apparent 'plagues' brought upon the residents by a 'mummy...' or at least that was what the locals attributed the strange happenings to. He wondered if such a thing was being caused by an angry and ancient Force user that Blackwing woke up, or if it was just some natural phenomenon. He knew he would have to set the Bulwark down farther than originally planned from the site that had piqued his interest. He really should have brought one of the fighters, but this way he could at least provide evac if needed. It was strange, watching the desert pass by as the chromium craft made its way to a long abandoned dig site. A temple that was a middling distance from the site marked as Aurebesh.

Once he set down the ship a fair distance from the abandoned site, he went down to the lower level, taking a 74-z from its place on the rack. Checking his armor once more, making sure it was well sealed, he slipped the lightsaber onto his belt, and slid an MSD-32 into each holster. He opened one of the saddlebags on the speederbike and stowed one of his DC-17m rifles in there, leaving the other attachments behind he used that space to carry plenty of extra ammo. The other saddlebag was loaded with standard things like emergency rations, a hydrospanner, and field repair and medical kits.

Kurayami nodded as he took another breath, trying not to think about what he may encounter once he arrived. When the ramp lowered to the sand, Kurayami hopped on the speeder and gunned the throttle, raising the ramp and remotely securing the craft as he turned towards his marked destination, there were twinges in the Force as he set out, but nothing that stood out among the normal background noise of the planet. Not yet. All he could do was hope that there would be some answers to be found in his expedition.

 

[Matma Bernu]

Base Camp
Frenier Delta

After we were waved through, we got directed to the CO of the base camp to get briefed. Apparently, the Breviostrians were getting antsy as we were about squad going MIA en-route to the quarantine- and just from reading the information we had on them back at Ft. Excelsior, I can't blame them. It's bad enough that stormtroopers are going missing- but bunch full grown, infected Breviostrians? They'd spread the Sickness like wild fire before we could put them down.

We would meet our liaison, Lawman Alshao "Amos" Laurier. Lawman Laurier would give us more information about the missing squads, and hopefully between us we could triangulate the last known locations of our men with markers(or however Laurier was keeping track of his people) and an idea of what's been happening in this swamp. Best case scenario, maybe their experiencing some communication breakdown or interference. Worst (but very plausible) scenario: They could have been ambushed, infected, and possibly ambush the units ahead of them.

We embarked on a speeder towards, and I (very reluctantly) decided to pass the time by mediating. I've been prodded by my peers and superiors that it's high time I accepted that the Force is something that's with me for good or ill, so it's high time I get over a (very reasonably) societal stigma of Force-Sensitives I was raised in and get onboard.

I guess.

The world faded away as I opened myself to the Force. No matter how many times I did this, it never failed to make feel so...small. So insignificant. Yet I'm blessed to see this magnificent tapestry that is life. I can feel the troopers anxiety and resolve. I can feel the creatures peering at us through the trees, curiously. I can feel the fish darting away from the boat. But as we get deeper into the Delta, that feeling of wrongness I felt at the checkpoint gets stronger. It feels cold, oily. It creeps and smothers light. It is twisted, perverse, seeking destruction for destruction's sake. An abomination. I realized, with a start, that I know what this is.

That was the first time, ever, that I felt the Dark Side of the Force. Why is the Dark Side festering in this swamp?
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An Hour Later
Shortleaf

I pushed those thoughts to the back of my head as I felt the speeder stop. Disembarking, I immediately noticed the massive, reptilian gentleman standing near speeder pad, smoking a cigar. A Breviostrian- a Crocodylii, if I had to guess. I started to walk towards him.

"Lawman Laurier", I called out to get his attention. I bowed. "I am Imperial Knight Matma Bernu. Me and my men are investigating the squad disappearances as well- would you be able to give us an idea of what you think might be happening out there? Perhaps between the two of us, we can get to the bottom of this."

Resurgent Narrative

 

[Nylea Apollodor]

A broken sarcophagus and a curse. It sounded like something straight out of a Sith legend. Hopefully it wasn't anything of the sort- she normally avoided tombs for a reason. They were best left alone, but it was a little too late for that here. If anything that required the hand of a Force user came up she'd be there, but beyond that she'd trust the experts. The echani had much more experience with living things than the dead.

"Sounds like a plan. Hopefully we can get to the bottom of this," Nylea replied, even if it was quite obvious everyone involved felt that way. Mephout had suffered enough already and it was time to start letting the planet heal. The very Force around her as she disembarked from the shuttle spoke of that pain. The Light was a little more difficult to reach here, which made her a bit uncomfortable. She hoped it wouldn't get much worse than this, though she feared it would.

Elisea drew Nylea's attention to the speeders, at which the echani nodded. They looked old, but as long as they still worked then it would be good enough for her. "I suppose I will hop on the back of whichever one you choose." Nylea didn't have too much experience piloting speeders, which was something she'd have to fix eventually. For now, she would just rely on Elisea.

Elisea Korrado Ciara Lockley Audrey Saint George Kurayami Bloodborn ​

 

[Resurgent Narrative]

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Ideally, Major Caceres would not be in this filth. Swamps, bayous it could all go straight to the Netherworld as far as he was concerned. He pushed those thoughts to the back of his mind and concentrated on his duties which were to establish checkpoints and eliminate anyone deemed 'infected' with Blackwing. Such careless orders he thought to himself, the word Blackwing didn't really conjure images of mercy. No, they conjured ones of indiscriminate death. Regardless, the Major was there stuck on the filthy side of the rock known as Mephout until this whole business was eliminated to Central Command's liking.​

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Commando units were scouting ahead ensuring that the boys in the Army remained - boys in the Army, and turn into the undead. "We've got a problem," Lieutenant Shin reported, "the data center those boys are headed to? One of the scouts reported turned Brevirostrii."​

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Thank the Force for the helmet, Caceres thought as it concealed his facial expression of terror. Undead Brevirostrii? Undead Gatorfolk. Undead near-twelve foot tall and well over five hundred pounds of undead terror. "Relay the information to Sgt. Atreides, and get him back up. Now." Caceres' authoritative tone was all he needed as he prayed right there that this would be over sooner rather than later. They were definitely going to need bigger boats, and faster ones at that. ​

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Amos Laurier wasn't known for being kind to outsiders, much less the Imps. Worst, he was more than certain that this whole mess was their fault, to begin with. When their ship carrying the virus crashed and infected the local population. They should have destroyed everything and everyone it touched. They didn't and here they were dealing with the same problem, again and this time it was personal. Sherriff Laurier's own son had become part of the missing. He put aside his feelings and focused on the missing troopers. ​

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So when the so-called Imperial Knight arrived and introduced himself, Amos had to stop from laughing out of spite. "Mhmm t's Sherriff Laurier to you." He corrected the blue-skinned Knight immediately, his voice was deep and guttural the kind that sounded a massive boulder rolling against a mountain face. Would he, be able to give, ol' blue here an idea of what he thought might be happening out there. Laurier who stood well over three-point nine meters with a muscular stature to boot turned to see the small thing before him. The Sherriff had to think about how to answer the man, all the while he took a long drag of his cigar. "Think isn't the word here, what I know is that the damn virus has gotten ahold of folks and now it's only a matter of time before we find them or they find us."​

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He exhaled and smoke rose from his nostrils as the cigar was taken from his massive jaw and tipped into a nearby ashtray. "Believe me, Knight." Laurier seemed to punctuate the man's title. "You don't want them to find us."​

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Ryker Atreides | Matma Bernu ​

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[Bellam Malhan]

Caz Ozzel || Resurgent Narrative
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He could hear their young gunner stammering through another sentence. After the last mission he'd wanted to request a new one, but given how slow the wheels of bureaucracy turned he'd likely get someone killed before they did anything. Maybe they needed to get him laid - that might improve his confidence some.

Chewing at his lower lip as he mulled it over, he remained upright in the hatch, happy to have some harsh airflow over his armored frame. It was likely howling down into the interior, but he didn't care. Down below, he could see Caz's helmet and knew the driver likely felt the same way he did. As they began easing around a bend in the river, he could spy a few stilt buildings off to their two.

"Visual on the village." He said simply. "You got eyes, Caz?" Just because he could see it didn't mean the driver did - he'd had that drilled into him during training nearly incessantly.

"Shaky," he said, leaning into the new nickname given to the gunner, "power supply on the cannon secure? Don't want it fizzling out when the first shambler starts taking potshots." Bellam was terrified. They all were. Adrenaline and anxiety created a combination of a mental high and a sinking feeling in the gut that were uncomfortably at odds.

"Alright," he muttered to himself, low enough his mic wouldn't pick it up, "here we go." Ducking into the hatch, he flipped a switch. Red light bathed the crew compartment, letting the infantry know to get ready to disembark. He popped back out again in time to see them veer off the river and into the marshlands surrounding. Nearly immediately, the trees started to close in around them. "Keep the speed steady. I don't want to pull a scout trooper on any of these trees."

 

[Caz Ozzel]

Bellam Malhan | Resurgent Narrative | Ryker Atreides
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They'd progressed nicely, the river acting as a pre-drawn route through the terrain rather than over it had expedited their arrival. From below the Sergeant's turret Caz couldn't see much but he had caught a glimpse of a small house on stilts. "Copy sarge, eyes on." Bringing their speed down a touch, Pvt. Ozzel adjusted a few settings on the console beside him, trimming up the response on his lateral thrusters. That would give them a bit more mobility. He stifled a laugh as their gunner's new nickname echoed through the comm. Probably appropriate he thought. Coming around a final bend, the red lights illuminated the interior of his tank, a brief alert displaying on his console indicating that it was time to button up the hatches.

"Buttoning up." he said, ducking down into the tight confines of the driver's compartment and reaching up to secure the hatch. At least in here there wasn't anything to worry about. At least, as far as Blackwing or the locals were concerned. The First Order's tanks weren't exactly invincible but to the measly resistance a bunch of undead creatures could put up they might as well have been. Right? thought the young driver. He sure hoped so, the twisted knot in the pit of his stomach tightening as they made their first approach. "Speed steady, aye." Caz modified their speed once again, the collision warning sensors rapidly becoming little more than a solid tone due to the ever closing in of the trees. Slapping a control panel beside him, Caz muted the alarm - he knew there were trees there, an alarm wasn't going to do anything but add to the noise.

 

[Ryker Atreides]

Bellam Malhan | Resurgent Narrative | Caz Ozzel
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Patience. Let your heartbeat settle.

As a predator stalking his prey, Ryker inhaled slowly, then exhaled. He'd traveled nearly 80 meters. It was time for another peek. Lowering himself to the ground behind the stump of an overlarge tree, he slowly and deliberately poked his eyes over so he could attempt to get eyes on the possible mounted weapon. Gently bringing his weapon from slung into his hands he brought it up and over the stump and scanned for his target. There. There it was. The sight of it sent a pang of concern through the veteran's spine.

:: Viper One to Allied Armor. Mounted Weapon confirmed. E-Web Heavy Emplacement. Embedded. Coordinates incoming. Advice Caution. ::

Sgt. Atreides didn't have a shot on target yet but he could see it a lot clearer. In fact, as he continued scoping out the emplacement he could see what appeared to be something of a bunker around it obscured in the brush. He wouldn't be able to get a shot on target regardless of what angle he took - there was only one way he'd be able to take care of it. Up close and personal. Before he could move however, he had reporting to do. Resting the stock of his weapon against the stump he reached over to a small keypad integrated into his gauntlet and input the approximate coordinates of the emplacement. From this angle he couldn't tell if there was anyone or anything manning it but it wouldn't hurt to be careful. E-Webs were nothing to kark with. Even a stray shot had potential to do significant damage to any First Order light armor.

Coordinates transmitted, he slung his weapon again and retrieved a blaster pistol from his belt. It would take him some time to make it to the emplacement covertly. Out here he was vulnerable, no armored shell of a tank or shielding in a starfighter to protect him. Just his light body armor and the skills he'd picked up over time.

::Viper One, advancing on emplacement. Gonna have to det this one, it's boxed.::

 

[Elisea Apollodor]

"This one doesn't look so bad, let me radio to the Director." Elisea mentioned whilst pointing to the speeder beside her. Utilizing a personal holo comlink she pinged the Director and waited a moment for her to pick up. "Director Saint George, this is Elisea Korrado I'm on my way to meet with a local forensic scientist to examine the sarcophagus, I'll let you know what they find out."​

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Once the information had been acknowledged, Elisea would pocket the comlink and adjust her the messenger bag so it sat high enough to be out of the way while on the speeder bike. "And yes, let's hope we do get to the bottom of this investigation, I'd like to hope that this is all just one mad man with too much power on his hands, and not some supernatural being."​

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She climbed aboard the speeder bike and adjusted the settings. "Coordinates locked, alright here we go."​

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"Sundiata's been hit the worst out of all the cities here, I'd say to steel yourself but we've both seen enough with the Lotus." Elisea remarked as she navigated the speeder bike through the Sahel desert. "Thankfully where we're going is closer to the outskirts of the city proper, however; we may have to head into the city later on. I'm on loan to HRD as a liaison between the two branches, it seems my time away and with the Lotus makes them believe I have some sort of expertise with the historical side of things." Elisea honestly wondered if Nylea could understand anything - mostly because they were on a speeder and the air seemed to whip around them.​

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Nylea Apollodor | Audrey Saint George | Kurayami Bloodborn ​

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