The Edge of the Empire

[Progflaw99]

"No, and I'll tell you why. I've scrapped together almost ten years on the border worlds, I've earned my rest. Several more and I'll be sitting pretty in some posh loft in Avalonia." The dream could almost be pictured as the man explained why he didn't care if he was on some boring backwater world. Nestled between the Unknown Regions and the Outer Rim, Queravert IV was the site of a deep space listening outpost which stayed in orbit around the watery world. Considered the armpit of the Empire, those worlds on the edge of space had birthed a plague upon the Order only a few years past.

The Ssi-Ruuvi Imperium. Ferocious creatures with aggressive minds. Drawn forth from the world of Lwhekk, they had unleashed their hordes upon the First Order and brought her to her knees. The Occupation of Dosuun had been a short affair and while the wounds healed quickly, scars yet remained. And itched - or so it seemed. New construction along the Galactic Western Border had boomed. From space stations to planetary development it seemed the First Order was trying to do everything it could to prevent a full on recession. The rumor had already spread outside of its borders. A "Post War Recession" they were calling it. The two men seated at the consoles of the small listening post didn't have opinions on the matter - in fact, the way the older of the two saw it, he was being paid to not have an opinion.

"I spose 'at makes sense enough." the younger man frowned. "One man's trash..." he didn't finish the idiom but shrugged as his eyes scanned the dark screen in front of him. A few silent moments passed before he pushed his nose closer, almost against the screen. "Yew see 'at?" A crooked finger tapped the screen as he squinted harder. Beside him the elder man shuffled, eyes joining the younger at the dark screen for a moment. "What are you on about lad?" Struggling, the man pushed down the glasses further on his nose and peered over their edge. "Thar et iz agin. See?" Wide as saucers their eyes widened as a solitary blip appeared. Alone at first, then another and another. The breath caught between the two as they tried to make sense of what they saw. Stuttering, the younger of the two spoke. "S-s-ssi Ruuk..." Though just as surprised as his young counterpart the elder had the benefit of experience, instinct driving his reaction. In a matter of seconds he'd pressed the one button he was told never never to press - except in circumstances such as this. "By the gods..." he whispered as the few blips turned into several, the several turned into many, the many turned into a... well, he wasn't sure what came next but it was more than he'd ever seen.

-​

Priority Alpha. Whisper Initiative. Alert Level I.
Unusual Activity Detected. GSM West.

Report: Multiple unidentified objects detected in orbit of planet Furia. Weak energy signals detected. Consistent with Known Ssi-Ruuvi Imperium Vessel signatures. Suspect enemy battle fleet, numbers suggest several dozen capital ships. See enclosures for additional collected data and calculations.

Recommendations: For Immediate Review & Action

-​

It was a brisk pace with which Colonel Rolf Amsel strode through the corridors of the FIV Executioner. With the FIV Concordia in dry dock and its fate yet undecided, the Grand Moff had resumed her post upon the bridge of the Supreme Leader's own Resurgent-class Star Destroyer. She hadn't been the only one. The First Imperial Shock Trooper Legion had taken up garrison within her bulkhead. The report had just come in. Unfortunately for the Colonel, it was his duty to inform the leader of their government. Or at least, the more prominent of the two. Sieger had always been a bit of a shadow, taking small steps into the spotlight for only several seconds at best.

The Commanding Officer of the First Legion didn't have any more time to wander in his thoughts, the subtle chirp as he paged the Grand Moff's chambers from the corridor interrupting. "Colonel Amsel for her Excellency, the Grand Moff. Priority Alpha." Rolf had an inkling he knew how it was going to play out, as such he'd already cut orders to the Legion. Prepare for war.

-​

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OOC:​

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Hello! Welcome aboard for the first thread in our series in an effort to bring a new take on the First Order and its ongoing effort to bring Order to the galaxy! As you can see, the First Order has detected what appears to be a Ssi-Ruuvi battlefleet within striking distance of the First Order's Western border! Listening posts along the Western Frontier have reported that the signals are consistent with known Ssi-Ruuvi energy signatures. According to preliminary scans, it appears they are in orbit around the world of Furia. Curiously, the signals are weakened. A Ssi-Ruuvi deception? A staging ground for a renewed assault against the Order? Whatever it is, it is a direct threat to the safety and security of the First Order and must be resolved.​

Notes:
1. This is a semi-DM’d thread - I encourage you to PM me with questions as there are certain points within this story where I will be interjecting and providing limited narrative towards an end.
2. The initial idea is that some groups of writers will fit within certain objectives, though no one is locked in to one or the other. It will make sense for anyone to be investigating the vessels in orbit, or being a part of the ground team investigating the suspected Ssi-Ruuvi Installation in the center of a dense jungle. Please gather yourselves into groups and get scheming. If you have questions or would like more direction, please reach out to me and I’m more than willing to help!

P.S. I will be updating the OP with updates as the story unfolds so anyone who isn't comfortable joining now, will be able to jump in whenever they can and have an idea of what's going on/what's known or unknown.

[member="The Major"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="Tanomas Graf"]
@The First Order
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[Natasi Fortan]

[SIZE=11pt]It was like wearing another woman’s dress. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]One could wear it, but it never quite fit right. For Natasi, it was a lot like wearing Reima Fortan’s evening gowns while playing dress-up, except in this case she was walking along the [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]deckplates of a Resurgent-class Star Destroyer and not hiding in her mother’s closet from Willis, Reima’s ladies maid who would tan her hide if she found the girl handling Reima’s Bakuran shimmersilks[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] again. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Willis was only slightly less intimidating than Sieger Ren. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The Executioner didn’t fit Natasi right. The personal touches that had made Concordia home away from home -- the plush interiors, the uniformed Navy stewards, the polished woodwork that mingled so nicely with the military [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]metals[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] of the Order and its martial designs. This was an entirely different animal, even from being aboard another First Order Star Destroyer. Sieger’s flagship was… as unique as the man himself, Natasi observed. Imperial to its core, but somehow warped. It unsettled her; it kept her on edge. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Still, there was work to be done, so Natasi did what she always did when she felt slightly uncomfortable. She put on a bit of lippy and jolly well got on with it. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Natasi was reviewing an intelligence briefing when an aide rapped on the door. Unlike her study on Concordia, instead of the woody sound [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]of[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] knuckles upon honest-to-goodness wood, the sound was tinny, of gloves against metal. “Come,” Natasi called, pulling off her glasses as the door opened. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Colonel Amsel for you, ma’am,” said the aide. “Priority Alpha.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Very good,” said Natasi. Strictly speaking, Amsel didn’t need to use his priority code to enter, since Natasi almost always had time for the man, but this shorthand let her know it was truly something urgent. “Colonel?” she called beyond the aide as the aide turned to let him in. Natasi stood and pulled her duty jacket on; hers was identical to the Grand Admirals’ uniform when she was aboard [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]ship[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] but it had a specialized crimson piping denoting her rank, as well as a distinct rank badge and a nameplate that read ‘N. FORTAN’.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]In case anyone didn’t recognize her. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Get the door, would you kindly?” Natasi asked Amsel as he entered. Her study -- if you could call it that -- was a repurposed storage closet chosen because it was adjacent to her stateroom -- if you could call it that -- and didn’t give her a lot of room to maneuver, especially with a man Amsel’s size with her. She gestured to a chair and took the one at her desk, turning so she could face him. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]In short order, he had given her the news, and Natasi chewed the inside of her cheek. “The bridge,” she said gravely, gesturing for Amsel to lead the way out of the room. By the time they reached the bridge, Natasi was at the front, her boots thrumming a regular and brisk beat onto the [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]deckplates. “Come about. Get me Rausgeber; send the order to muster the Sixth Fleet. Navigation,[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] set a course for the Furia system.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The bridge went into action. Natasi turned to Amsel. “Ready my FIST, Colonel, and then return to the bridge.” She raised her voice to address everyone in range. “We jump to Furia in thirty minutes. Executioner carries the flag.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Some time[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] later, Executioner dropped out of hyperspace at Furia. Natasi was at the front of the bridge, her gloved hands clasped behind her back. Her dark eyes scanned the system as the ship’s scanners did the same, with greater precision. “There’s no reaction,” Natasi said to Colonel Amsel quietly. The data became to stream across the display. “Hardly any heat signatures, and no active power draw…” Her voice fell silent as she leaned in to study the data. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Let’s send a landing party to the surface,” Natasi finally ordered. “And I want a closer look at those ships.” She paused and glanced sidelong at Amsel. “By which, of course, I mean I want you to have a closer look. Is this a trap? Something feels… wrong. But our sensors don’t read anything in ambush range.” Natasi frowned and turned to the Colonel. “What are your thoughts?”[/SIZE]

 

[Hansen]

Lieutenant Colonel Daan DT-130
FIV Executioner, Bridge
Allies: [member="Natasi Fortan"], [member="Rolf Amsel"]
Nearby: [member="Natasi Fortan"], [member="Rolf Amsel"]

Lieutenant Colonel Daan stood as a seven feet tall titan beside the bridge's door the only identifying insignia on her breastplate was a small five-pointed star with a single horizontal white bar beneath it to denote her rank. Held across abdomen in a pair of hands steeled to their purpose was a glossy black rifle, evidently, it had been freshly scrubbed. Lieutenant Colonel Daan was the Commissioned Officer-In-Charge of Special Warfare Command's "Group Four" The administrative and operational unit responsible for the First Order's newest generation of "Death Troopers" those produced by Project: Revenant. Daan made a point to depart from the strictly grim and uniform black appearance of her predecessors with their silvery visors and opted for a startling gold which was caused in-fact by newer firmware installed into the multi-million credit suit of Powered Assault Armour that entombed the sinewy body of a genetically-engineered supersoldier.

Listening to the crisp exchange back-and-forth between the Grand Moff and Colonel Amsel, Lieutenant Colonel Daan politely relented to offer her suggestion until the two senior officers were coming to the conclusion of their verbal exchange. Craning her helmeted head somewhat the stoic and silent Death Trooper offered their thoughts in an uncharacteristically warm, and calmly re-assuring tone. No doubt Natasi would recognise the voice of Daan Sarnova. "Colonel Amsel, Grand Moff Fortan. I can take a team of Shock Troopers down to Furia's surface and try to make contact with the Governor's office in Moenia. Just say the word, ready for anything." Lieutenant Colonel Daan with bold enthusiasm took a step forward towards the pair from the bridge bulkhead door that she guarded, a Death Trooper was a precious commodity no doubt but none among the Military's ranks were better equipped or prepared to face the most dangerous situations that might confront the Realm's soldiers.

Daan's left hand comes away from her G-12A rifle and adjusts the hardened uplink module on the left-side of her helmet. It was responsible for long-range transmission and reception of military intelligence and marked it's wearer as an Officer of some description although this distinction was little known or understood outside of Special Warfare Command. Such a device was hardened against jamming although a planetary wide blackout led Daan to assume one of two things: The entire planet's billions of aliens had been exterminated or more likely it was being jammed by an exceptionally powerful transmitter. Such a transmitter could well be sufficient to interrupt the uplink module's transmissions, a troubling thought that did little to curb Colonel Daan's enthusiasm and willingness to rise to the occasion. It was time for the Lieutenant Colonel to earn her keep as a Senior Officer and Death Trooper.

 

[Progflaw99]

The Bridge. FIV Executioner.
GSM West. Border of First Order Space.

The conversation had gone down much smoother than he'd anticipated, the Grand Moff quick to set her sights and take action. The orders issued, Colonel Amsel had returned swiftly to his men. Changes were coming, both to the First Order and her military forces. Already the organization had begun a reformation - the First Legion squarely in the sights of the restructure. In the moment, nothing mattered more than carrying out the Grand Moff's orders but Rolf had reservations about the new setup. There wasn't time for it though. Instead of fretting the ins and outs, Rolf turned to what he did best - preparing his men for what was to come.

In short order he found himself back upon the bridge of the Executioner, Grand Moff standing at less than an arms length no less. Upon their arrival on the edge of the Furia system Rolf too was puzzled by the incoming data. No reaction from the vessels, now clearly identifiable as being of Ssi-Ruuvi make. Their domed hulls bringing back memories for the Colonel. Joining the Grand Moff in scouring the data, he replied hesitantly. "Downright puzzling." he murmured. No shift to address the First Order Battlegroup appearing in the system, no attempt to communicate. In fact, it almost appeared as if the vessels had been derelict for some time. Pressing his finger towards the display he manipulated the scanning routing, zooming in on one of the largest of the vessels.

"I'd wager that was their flagship." he said. "Strange. There appear to be no lifesigns on board - and only the faintest of power readings." The readouts displayed on the screen indicated that there was minimal life support active. A curiosity struck the Colonel, again his hands manipulating the images. Focused on a large fracture in the ships hull, he found what he was looking for. Three holes, all close together, appeared against it. "It almost looks like something bored through here..." he trailed off. It wasn't often the battle hardened Colonel felt the twinge of fear. Fear was good, healthy even, it helped maintain an edge. Even so, it was unsettling. "I believe we are in agreement your excellency, something about this seems suspect indeed."

Before he could expound on his thoughts a voice interjected. Rolf wasn't wearing his armor, or helmet - instead it was the classic dress uniform. At least for the moment. Without the aid of his HUD the trooper's name escaped him as she spoke. "Colonel Amsel, Grand Moff Fortan. I can take a team of Shock Troopers down to Furia's surface and try to make contact with the Governor's office in Moenia. Just say the word, ready for anything." The Colonel fought back an uncharacteristic frown, somewhat taken aback by the forwardness of the bold trooper. Waiting before responding, Rolf looked to the display once more. "Curious." he mumbled, pointing again. "There's no activity from the surface either - in fact, what used to be Moenia appears overrun by the jungle." As he peered more closely the Colonel noted another anomaly. In place of Moenia, Rolf could see a construct of alien design, a facility of sorts where the capitol should have been. Faint energy readings emanated from its core - Ssi-Ruuvi frequencies. "Well trooper, it looks like you've got yourself a mission. Prep your squad, have them ready to go. Fifteen minutes, Hangar Besh. Gear up for S&R, not seeing any lifesigns down there either, or if there are they're garbled. Pack light, you won't want to get bogged down. Something about this doesn't seem right."

Turning back to the Grand Moff, Colonel Amsel spoke to his opinion. "Well your excellency, I think the situation speaks for itself. I'll personally lead the boarding effort and we'll send..." he looked expectantly at the other trooper. "... down to the surface to investigate the enemy facility. I won't bore you with the specifics, but we'll see it done. I assume you'd like to be piped in via live feed?"

[member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Daan DT-130"]​

 

[Robogeber]

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Allies: [member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Daan DT-130"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"]
Location: Anoat Sector, FIV Pellaeon
Objective: Rendezvous with the Moff

"Intriguing...." The Grand Admiral pondered quietly, the transmission sat on his desk, the text, hovering just above the head of Captain Evaline Brosse. She stood, jaw clenched as the droid began the calculations. "It would take too long to muster the entire fleet," He continued, before his eyes, or at least the holographic imitation of them centred upon his subordinate. Locking with her deep, chocolate orbs. "This is an invitation we simply cannot refuse." The droid informed her.

"Send word to Fleet Admiral Braisley and Admiral Gallow," The Grand Admiral commanded, "They are to depart and rendezvous with us on those coordinates." He rose, and moved toward the door to his study, and the wider command bridge, "We must follow their lead," He continued, "Alert all commands and prepare for jump to lightspeed."

​

The great dagger of the FIV Pellaeon cut through the void like a dagger. Its vast mass forming to the starboard side of the Executioner. Within seconds, a flurry of activity came across the space around the Pellaeon, as its escorts, Battlegroup Imperator came into formation. Flanking the Executor, more destroyers slammed out of the void. The flagships of Battlegroups Valiant and Courage respectively. Escorts, frigates and cruisers now began to slip in and around the Executioner, embracing it and becoming a defensive shield in and around the vessel.

Transmitting across all encrypted frequencies, the Sixth Fleets Imperator. Not in the pagentry of his false, 'human' facade, but in all his metal glory. His holographic face not able to be captured on the projector, leaving but a faceless sheet of glass. "Grand Moff Fortan," the flag officer began, in a curt, robotic tone. "How may I be of assistance?"

 

[Tanomas Graf]

Imperator Tanomas Graf​

Location: FIV Reprisal, Virgillia​

Status: Dealing with a Disturbance​

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His eyes stared up at the metal ceiling unblinkingly, the hum of the ship's ion drives the only sound in the dead silence of his quarters. Fabric shifted as he brought a wrinkled hand up to his chest to touch his other hand, in reassurance that the extremity was still there and not some mechanical monstrosity as it had been years ago.

Tanomas was supposed to have gone to bed a handful of hours ago, to drive away the fatigue in preparation of the drilling manoeuvres the next day. But for some reason, he could not bring himself to close his eyes, to embrace the lull of sleep in fear that he would never arise from it. There was something profound about having experienced firsthand what it was like to have entire months of his life flash past in the blink of an eye, the crackle of frozen carbonite a sound he wished never to hear again. Part of him knew very well that it would be wise for him to move on from the whole ordeal, to take it in stride and become a stronger man from it, but he still had his doubts.

Nevertheless, he had survived it like he had the War, and now the only direction to go was up; to sucker up to the First Order he had dared to betray before, and live out the rest of his numbered days by assisting them where he could. A small smile darted across his lips for a moment, disappearing when he heard the tone of his holo-communicator going off. He sat up, grabbing the device from the nightstand and thumbing the switch, a miniature hologram of an ensign appearing over the projector. "Imperator, sir," He gave a small bow, "Intercepted transmissions inform of elements of the Sixth Fleet mobilizing against an unknown threat; scanned trajectories predict they are mustering towards Furia."

Graf blinked a few times, taking in the information and conceiving a plan of action. "We're not one to shy away from a fight, ensign. Even if uninvited, I want this ship in hyperspace in the next few minutes," He maintained, looking over warily at the chronometer, "Wake the day crew, I want all hands to prepare for battle." The junior officer acknowledged his command and disappeared, the old man replacing the communicator before glancing over at the folded charcoal grey uniform laying on a seat nearby.

His smile returned.

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[member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Daan DT-130"]​

 

[Hansen]

Lieutenant Colonel Daan DT-130
FIV Executioner, Bridge
Allies: [member="Natasi Fortan"], [member="Rolf Amsel"], [member="Tanomas Graf"], [member="Robogeber"]
Nearby: @Natasi Fortan, [member="Rolf Amsel"]

Daan's sharpened eyes look to the display where Colonel Amsel's attention falls and studies the image projected on the liquid crystal surface with incredible resolution despite being then thirty feet away from that monitor, a result of the surgical and chemical alterations made to her eyes and brain's frontal lobe. Low-light and fine print across the room was no longer an issue, in-fact the Lieutenant Colonel as a matter of propriety and respect for others' privacy often relented from fully exploiting this through daily life. "Search and rescue, Hanger Besh. Wilco, Sir." Lieutenant Colonel Daan's blue helmet dips into a nod and she took a single step away from both Colonel Amsel and Grand Moff Fortan in the direction towards the bridge's reinforced bulkhead door. Daan's emerald spheres now shifted behind the exquisite gold coloured visor in Natasi's direction waiting for further input from either Officer although hoping the Grand Moff might offer some further intel.

Amsel explained his intention to the lead the boarding party aboard the Derelict, Lieutenant Colonel Daan did not want him to go for fear of Amsel's safety although the Grand Moff had spoken, any interjection from the Death Trooper is quelled by her deep adoration and respect for Natasi, Daan wordlessly acknowledged they would be walking into a well-prepared static ambush more than likely. "Colonel Daan Dee-Tee one-thirty." Prompted by Amsel's tone she introduced herself realising astutely that he would be unable to assess her IFF transponder the basic identifying information provided over their TEAMCOM by her Power Armour's transponder. "If that will be all Grand Moff Fortan and Colonel Amsel. I'll go and prepare for deployment to Furia's surface." Daan did not even wait to receive her leave properly prior to pivoting in their boots and begin the bulkhead door's cycle, Natasi would know Daan better to mistake such a gesture as disrepect. The former xenoarcheologist is a diligent woman and would waste no time in performing her assigned task.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi inclined her head at [member="Daan DT-130"] and [member="Rolf Amsel"], pleased that the situation was resolving itself to her satisfaction. When the redheaded officer turned towards to inquire if there was anything further, Natasi shook her head, but Daan was already turning on her heel to leave. The Grand Moff raised her voice to call after her: "You have your orders, Lieutenant Colonel. Godspeed." Natasi turned back to the command display, studying the data as it came in. A moment later, [member="Robogeber"] appeared remotely, and the Grand Moff half-turned to face him. "Grand Admiral Rausgeber. Thank you for your prompt response. You know Colonel Amsel, I presume?"

She gestured to her right-hand man to make the introductions if necessary, then pointed out her orders on the command table.

"I want sensor sweeps of these ships. Here, here, and here. Deploy a defensive perimeter and then do starfighter sweeps of the enemy fleet, starting here and working outwards. If you trigger any defensive measures, pain the target and draw back. Consider this reconnaissance," said Natasi. "Any questions?"

 

[The Major]

Meanwhile…

Another veritable task force of stealth corvettes and light frigates appeared within the area of operations. Visible markings were already nigh useless in while working in the vast spaces offered by the cosmos, but these vessels made quick work of distinctions by disregarding any sort of markers.

Regardless of this they updated their positioning and hailed the larger First Order vessels that would serve as a point of contact. Rather infuriatingly, Security Bureau clearance codes were provided but a declaration of purpose was conveniently set aside as the corvettes began to move to monitoring positions near Furia.

They weren’t completely useless to the struggle, however, in but a few short minutes high powered detection gear and the kind of cutting edge cameras a civilian agency could somehow muster up were at the service of the larger body: extra eyes and ears for the imperials regardless of what sort of patrols they might already be using.

[member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Tanomas Graf"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

Before the Grand Moff could respond to his question the comm came to life. As was expected, their other assets were arriving. No doubt they too were seeing the same puzzling panorama that lay before them. Already the Lieutenant Colonel had turned to prepare her men, Amsel however was present when the ghostly apparition of the Grand Admiral flickered to life. A curt nod was all he could contribute, unsure of where or whom the Grand Admiral was looking at due to the limitations of holocommunication and the digital facsimile of the man.

Rolf remained silent as Natasi pointed out the relevant sites within the area of operations and her orders were issued. As she inquired as to their clarity, Rolf cleared his throat before raising his voice. "Your excellency, Grand Admiral." A nod towards each. "I believe the Grand Moff's line of thinking is in congruence with my own, however I'd ask on our behalf that you create a cordon around the derelict fleet. We'll transmit our personal beacon data to your vessel so in the event of hostilities we don't end up on the receiving end of your fleet Sir." Rolf took a moment to reiterate their plan, focusing on the boarding action of what appeared to be the flagship of the Ssi-Ruuvi fleet. "We'll get aboard and see what we can find out. I'd recommend full decontamination protocol. We don't know what happened here or the surface but we're not getting lifesigns as expected. We've gathered some preliminary data - most notably a consistent boring pattern in many of the larger vessel's hulls. Stay frosty Admiral."

His piece said, Rolf prepared to head out and gather his men. "Anything else on your end? I'm sure my boys are itching to get going." He looked first to the Grand Admiral, then the Grand Moff.

[member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Daan DT-130"] | [member="The Major"]​

 

[Robogeber]

Upon the introduction, the Grand Admiral allowed a small nod, "The Colonel's reputation precedes him, but I have never been privleged enough to work in close proximity." Rausgeber conceded. The Grand Admiral coldly and patiently listened to the officers beneath him lay out their plan. Fighters, a blockade, and what have you. Curious. The droid paused, and glanced quietly over at another display. He hadn't been told what exactly they were up aganst, and grimaced when he noted the Ssi-Ruuk presence. Typical. Just as the Order took her place in the sun, the age old enemy of Sieger Ren returned. Virile, and now seemingly amassed around what, in the droids database, seemed to be a rather inconsequential system. "Orders recieved and understood, Grand Moff." The droid smoothly replied.

He then eyed the Grand Moff, and her subordinate colonel. "If I may at all make a suggestion, Grand Moff Fortan, it would be the withdrawal of the Executioner to behind some of our larger vessels." The Grand Admiral offered, "I would loathe to see you assailed by yet another boarding party." The droid added, with what could have been interpreted as a hint of sardonic coldness. "Nonetheless, we shall follow your orders," He paused, "Happy hunting."

The Grand Moffs will was dictated. The fleet began to disperse, with wings of TIE fighters and bombers performing perimeter patrols. Frigates, corvettes and cruisers followed, beginning to fan out. The Grand Admiral didn't like the plan. He felt it spread their forces too thinly. But, he was not one to deny the orders of one of the First Order's most important political figures. Still, something felt off. Usually, his tactical super computer would try to calculate probabilities of events. Create scenarios to play out. But with this? There was nothing. Perhaps it was time to wait, and if so, to see what variables fit into this equation.

[member="Tanomas Graf"], [member="Rolf Amsel"], [member="The Major"]

 

[Hansen]

Lieutenant Colonel Daan DT-130
FIV Executioner, Hanger Besh
Allies: [member="Robogeber"], @Natasi Fortan, [member="Rolf Amsel"], [member="The Major"], [member="Tanomas Graf"]
Nearby: [member="Robogeber"], [member="Natasi Fortan"], [member="Rolf Amsel"], [member="The Major"], [member="Tanomas Graf"]

Daan's heavy armoured steps clack loudly against the bridge's floor carrying the Quadanium entombed sinewy figure towards the exit, pausing to permit that bulkhead door to split open with its' distinct hydraulic hiss almond-shaped emerald spheres cast a glance over shoulder towards Natasi. "Thank you Ma'am." Daan's dosuuni accent smacked of a Victorian inflexion with tell-tale marks left by a working-class upbringing carefully concealed beneath military training and a commissioned officer's proprietary for those who had the ear to identify these qualities. The supersoldier's passing through the Executioner's corridor earns the curious gaze of more than one Sailor and Soldier whom she passes, standing a whole head taller than the average Human man clad in several hundred kilograms of armour the 'Death Trooper' was a sight that usually solicited a dread-filled awe from observers. A reaction that Daan wordlessly greeted with reluctance, she did not enjoy being personified as Death and insisted what Daan stood for was instead self-sacrifice unto death if necessary.

Having such a Supersoldier at disposal was a resource that even Central Command officers coveted highly, where they appeared success was all but certain and while incapable of winning entire wars on their own within the confines of a firefight or battle Death Troopers were nigh unstoppable according to a fearsome and deserved their macabre reputation. Moving into Hanger Besh, Daan arrives to find one Banshee Dropship laden with missiles hanging from its' airfoils a full squad of the distinct First Imperial Shocktroopers waiting impatiently to greet the Senior Officer, their helmeted visages turned to face Daan's startling teal-armour. "Alright gentlemen, listen in." She paused strolling up into the cargo bay between the two rows of seated Troopers looking back and forth between every seat opposite her figure while slowly moving towards the cockpit door. "We're going to be performing an airborne search and rescue over Moenia, initial bioscans suggest the city has been consumed by foilage and canopy which is going to complicate our objective." Pausing at the Cockpit door she pivoted in boots, facing the ten Troopers and their pauldron'd Sergeant. "I'll be dropping down and searching the Government Offices on foot, Sergeant Stracken. You will keep your team in the air as a Quick-Reaction force and provide security for any survivors who we locate."

The cockpit door behind Daan slides open with the Banshee's pilot 'Locus' sitting at his controls, his baritone voice reverberates dryly through the troop bay. "Colonel, We've received clearance from the tower to launch. Suggest you come and take your position in the Co-pilot's seat Ma'am." All of the cargo bay's seats were occupied by the Shock troopers thus the Colonel excused herself with an uncharacteristic politeness for an Imperial Officer from her subordinates and fell into the Cockpit its' door closing flush behind her. Daan placed one hand on the Co-pilot's seat, carefully shifting all of her limbs down into the Tandem seat beside Locus and quickly seizing control of the Dropship's weapons. Its Ion Engines roared to life with its' cargo ramp peeling back and rising towards the fuselage forming a hermetic seal with a subtle albeit high-pitched squeak that rattled throughout the modestly sized albeit considerably armed vessel.

 

[Omari Ngao]

Agent Vyken,
MAALRAAS Lead

---

---

Amongst the Bureau vessels that entered the system, a team of Black Ops operatives readied themselves. The black, glossy armour whose luster appeared to almost capture and hold the light was in place on the Agent's body. MAALRAAS Lead, prototype rifle fed its meal of electromagnetic propelled slugs. The rest of his team was similarly garbed, but their armaments differed between exotic and the more standard weapons offered by the First Order's military.

Handpicked, former troopers, most of his new team were made up from his original squad, back from when he was a Sergeant in the Corps. He led them for years, fought with them, grew up with most of them before the Order had hit the galactic big stage and became known galaxy-wide. They trusted him, and they followed him into the Security Bureau's black listed names and operations.

The cadre of black clad troopers marched through the primary Hangar towards their dropship.

The ship's ramp lifted when a black fist depressed on its locking mechanism.

"They say there's a Ssi-Ruuk operation somewhere in the forests. Our mission is to find it, determine if its active and destabilize it." The dropship lifted from the hangar deck of the Nightgaunt-Corvette, peeling off for the planet below. "We know they're cunning, we all saw the tapes of when the White Wolves led the charge through the Endor forests. We were all there when they held Dosuun."

Omari's throat tightened for a moment, and he swung his rifle around from his side and to his front.

"If we can destroy the installation, we will.

No heroes. We all get home."

[member="Daan DT-130"], [member="Robogeber"], [member="Natasi Fortan"], [member="Rolf Amsel"], [member="The Major"], [member="Tanomas Graf"]​

 

[The Major]

Out flowed the recon and specialist teams from the specialized ships -the larger ships themselves either holding position to offer a point of retreat should it become necessary or accelerating even further away from the main body of First Order vessels.

The Bureau never waited to have the enemy make the first move, even when the hour was this late. Selfishly, this branch of the civilian government had to see things first -now more than ever in its entire operational history. Week by week, the group turned more paramilitary for better or worse.

Aboard the Nightgaunt-Corvette the Director lead this new approach by example, ordering her vessel forward with scanners blazing and probing for the inevitable gut punch that was waiting for her comrades.

[member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Omari Vyken"] | [member="Daan DT-130"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Moments later Rolf found himself once more within the confines of a First Order Landing Assault Craft - except this one had been modified for space operations. In place of the usual de-embarkation ramp it had been fitted with a maglock docking clamp complete with a hull slicing mechanism for rapid boarding. *You can change the way it looks, but you still wouldn't catch me in one of these things unless I had to be.* thought the Colonel. He had to admit however, the ride was much smoother than any of his previous. The lack of weapons fire against the shields and hull and the steady speed and track were almost eerie - the voice in the back of his head was warning him, waiting for the inevitable explosions and sudden course correction. It never came.

Encased in the pristine gloss white of the First Order's Stormtrooper Corps, Rolf shifted his weight uncomfortably as he heard the engines begin spooling down. They had arrived. Following along via the HUD of his helmet the Colonel had seen their relatively stable flight path, none of the vessels emitting so much as a stray sensor ping. *A graveyard*, he thought. Unfortunate for the man, he knew well the smell of death. It didn't take an expert to realize that they were in the very center of it. A gentle jarring of the deck plates beneath his feet indicated they had touched down. A plethora of thoughts ran through the Colonel's mind in the matter of a second. *Environmental, Minimal Power. Gravity, Minimal.* They weren't going into a zero G environment but it was clear some sections of the vessel were unpowered entirely. They'd landed in the primary hangar bay of the vessel, arguably one of the largest Rolf had ever seen to include that of the FIV Wrath, the largest ship in the First Order fleet. It would take them months to search the entire vessel. Lucky for them, they were interested primarily in one thing - the strange trio of boring marks in the hull.

If this Ssi-Ruuvi vessel had been designed like any of the smaller ones they'd seen before Rolf had full confidence they'd be able to traverse its corridors quickly, though that all depended on what they would find. :: On me. Keep your eyes open - check your corners. :: With that simple command the airlock at the nose of the ship opened and Rolf's foot hit the worn deck plating of the hangar. It was a tradition among the FIST. The senior man was always the first out and the last in - a tradition as old as time. Behind the veteran Stormtrooper his men fanned out and set a perimeter, eyes flicking from one shadow the next. As they surveyed their location the final "All clear" came in over the comm. *This really is a ghost town.* No bodies. No blood. No weapons damage. If Rolf didn't know any better, he might have thought that the Ssi-Ruuk had just set down their tools and taken a lunch break. He recoiled slightly at the thought but continued his observations. Recalling that the Grand Moff and possibly even the Grand Admiral had wanted to stay abreast of their situation he commed up.

:: Fortan One to Fortan Actual, we've made landfall. Initial observations are as follows. No signs of life. No evidence of weapons fire. No bodies. It's like they all just vanished. Proceeding towards the central corridor on this level. ::

[member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Daan DT-130"] | [member="Omari Vyken"]​

 

[Tanomas Graf]

A crack sounded as the FIV Reprisal leapt out of hyperspace next to the gargantuan dreadnought. Tanomas Graf, now dressed in a crisp grey flag officer uniform with his hair combed neat, gazed longingly at the super star destroyer when it came into view. Nobody on this ship really knew it, but that vessel used to be his and his alone, a destructive force and nature that obeyed every command from the aged dictator, something that he had enjoyed immensely while it lasted.

He turned, clasping his hands behind his back, and walked down the walkway between the crew pits until he found the communications officer. "Open a channel to the Pellaeon, or whatever it's called nowadays." He waved dismissively, moving to stand near the command holoterminal. Shortly after, a simple hologram of the man would project onto the bridge of the flagship if allowed, and he would great his old friend somewhat professionally.

"...Grand Admiral Rausgeber." He gave a small bow, finally acknowledging the man (or what was left of him) as his superior, a solemn smile appearing on his wrinkled features for a split second. "Although uninvited, my ship and I are ready to assist against the threat."

[member="Robogeber"] | [member="Rolf Amsel"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Daan DT-130"] | [member="Omari Vyken"]​

 

[Rexus Wenck]

Rexus gazed around the airlock, before pressing his rifle to his shoulder, scanning the darkened halls of the vessel. His jaw clenched, the ride to the vessels had been quiet. All too quiet. No bombardment had met them, no flak or fighters buzzing around, just a sullen stillness. Fortan One began to broadcast his report. The voice, sounded ominously familiar to the gargantuan Death Trooper, but he paid no heed. He did find some comfort that he wasn't the only one to find the ship in such a state. "This is Rommulus." He growled over his comm unit, "Lower hull beachead secure." He snarled, "Copy Fortan One, we got nothing, no lizards." He added, before pressing further into the bowels of the vessel.

It was strangely clean. No signs of a struggle, just, abandoned. Rexus had been the only man to insert in the lower portion of the vessel, via special forces drop pod. He had imagined, nay, hoped for some resistance to clobber, but instead received nought. Despite this, Rexus would press on with his mission. Disabling the vessel as to halt it. "Fortan One, this is Rommulus." Rexus then decided, "Proceeding to engine room objective to disable thrusters, over." Rexus barked again, before silencing his unit. Something wasn't quite right, and Rexus was just about ready to snap.
[member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Omari Vyken"] | [member="Daan DT-130"]

 

[Rexus Wenck]

Rexus gazed around the airlock, before pressing his rifle to his shoulder, scanning the darkened halls of the vessel. His jaw clenched, the ride to the vessels had been quiet. All too quiet. No bombardment had met them, no flak or fighters buzzing around, just a sullen stillness. Fortan One began to broadcast his report. The voice, sounded ominously familiar to the gargantuan Death Trooper, but he paid no heed. He did find some comfort that he wasn't the only one to find the ship in such a state. "This is Rommulus." He growled over his comm unit, "Lower hull beachead secure." He snarled, "Copy Fortan One, we got nothing, no lizards." He added, before pressing further into the bowels of the vessel.

It was strangely clean. No signs of a struggle, just, abandoned. Rexus had been the only man to insert in the lower portion of the vessel, via special forces drop pod. He had imagined, nay, hoped for some resistance to clobber, but instead received nought. Despite this, Rexus would press on with his mission. Disabling the vessel as to halt it. "Fortan One, this is Rommulus." Rexus then decided, "Proceeding to engine room objective to disable thrusters, over." Rexus barked again, before silencing his unit. Something wasn't quite right, and Rexus was just about ready to snap.
[member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Omari Vyken"] | [member="Daan DT-130"]

 

[Omari Ngao]

Agent Vyken,
MAALRAAS Lead

---

---

While the dropship descended towards the forests below, the interior of the dropship was quiet, save for a handful of his troopers talking in hushed tones through comms. Vyken ignored them. His only goal was to complete the mission and to get out. These creatures destroyed Dosuun, and Omari knew he'd have to be focused entirely on the mission if he didn't want to make a mistake and go after the enemy directly.

Through his comms, he patched himself to his superior up above.

"Director Shepard, MAALRAAS Lead reporting in. Requesting any and all IFF transponders rerouted through my teams helmets."

Omari didn't want to encounter other Imperial military units, especially on the account of his team's mission meant to be secret. There was a time where he'd feel inclined to help military units, bring them home like his own men, but that time was past. To him, it was just the mission, and his own immediate team's lives. Everyone else? Worthless. His outlook on the military shifted after that joint operation on Skor II.

"MAALRAAS Team landing now." The sound of the repulsors kicking in could be heard through the hull of the vessel. Omari's arm rotated upwards, and his squad raised with it. Silence in the bay, the door opened, and out the went into the forests.

[member="The Major"], [member="Daan DT-130"]

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Natasi listened intently to the radio chatter, her brow furrowing in deep thought as she leaned over the command table. There was a flare of annoyance as the presence of Tanomas Graf made itself known. She hipchecked it to one side for the moment, returning her attention to the matter at hand. "Fortan Actual to Fortan One," she said into her communicator. "Data gathered on the Ssi-Ruuk -- not to mention personal experience -- indicates that they are unlikely to abandon territory and assets like this. What could possibly explain this behavior?"

The Grand Moff cupped her chin thoughtfully, watching the images and feeds coming through on the command table. "Some kind of trap? And yet -- there's no indication..." Her voice trailed off as she raised her gaze to the viewports -- not looking necessarily for something that even her sensors couldn't see, just changing the scenery for her thoughtful posture. "What of the layout of the place? Does it match up with the intelligence we have from -- " she hesitated before haltingly continuing -- "our Knights of Ren source?" Decima had been at Furia, in custody for the Ssi-Ruuk for nigh on two years, and was the primary source of first-hand intelligence on the Ssi-Ruuk facilities on Furia.

[member="Rolf Amsel"]