The Wastes of Nycteria [FOSB]

[Madelyn Lowe]

The Wastes of Nycteria​

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[SIZE=10.5pt]Unknown Regions, Noch Sector.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]In Orbit over Nycteria.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]1300 hours.[/SIZE]

The Shadow-Class Reconnaissance Corvette circled slowly as it drifted down to the surface, shaking slightly as it passed through the winds of the upper atmosphere. The sun sat high in the sky, and reflected dully off the dark ice. In patches, where plateaus of white rock rose from the dark surface, the light was almost blinding. Down below, still out of range of sight, lay the Nycteria Exploration and Research Base. It was totally unchanged from three weeks prior, when two probes had been deployed from orbit, and taken pictures of the base. There were no signs of recent human activity or of any activity, for that matter.

The objective was simple, land on the Eastern Plateau, and determine if Nycteria is a suitable setting for an FOSB supply base, to allow FOSB operatives to gain intelligence on Sith Empire systems. The secondary objective was to confirm the fate of the 3000+ settlers in the Base, as nobody had heard from any of them in many months. Though they are presumed dead, nobody knows exactly what happened to the base and its occupants. Perhaps this mission would change that.

From the vantage point of the Corvette, the numerous pits and geysers dotting the equator could be spotted by the tell-tale jets of steam that rose from them. North of the equator was a great, dark plain of ice, broken only by the large Eastern Plateau, which housed the Base. Even further than that, the land was rutted, covered in deep gorges and crevasses. Up there, the conditions were cold enough to kill them in a matter of hours, even in their FO-O2 Snow Trooper Armour.

Two days earlier, the ship had arrived at the Noch system. Entering realspace just outside the shimmering planetary nebula that shrouded the mysterious system. There was no mapped hyperspace route to Nycteria itself, so they had to make the rest of the journey by power of the engines alone. For the next 48 hours, the Corvette navigated the Noch system, on its way to the planet. Outside, the nebula shifted and shined, a dazzling array of light and colour. After passing the system’s asteroid belt, the pale dot of Nycteria came into view, gradually growing larger and larger as their craft approached. The crew didn’t know what lay ahead, they were unaware of the danger they had put themselves in. The Noise was not an ominous, dark presence in the Force. It was a part of the planet itself. Only the strongest of precognitions would reveal anything other than an acute sense of dread to those seeking to understand its nature.
Sitting comfortably at the controls of the Recon ship, Cryptolinguistics Officer Emilia Ravel of the FOSB perused her charts as the ship shed altitude. The hostile conditions of Nycteria were concerning to her. Everyone on board had to take care that their Snow Trooper armour was properly sealed upon exiting, and that no one went off after dark, or Force forbid it, strayed too far North. Emilia flicked through the aerial photos, pausing to stare at the tangle of wrecked metal that had once been the luxury cruiser known as The Silver Wonder. There was no doubt that everyone who’d crashed there had died long ago, but the image disturbed Emilia, she imagined the wounded survivors, huddled against each other, succumbing to the brutality of the elements. She shivered, placing the photos and maps back in her bag.

The ship shuddered, protesting the powerful winds that swept through Nycteria’s upper atmosphere. Soon enough, it had passed below the weather, and the violent gusts were replaced with a quiet, gentle breeze. The ship continued to move downwards, the exhaust of the engines immediately condensing, and forming two white trails behind the corvette.

3000’ now, hopefully her Team Leader, a woman known as The Major, had assembled the team, and was ready to disembark. 2000’. Emilia quite liked the mysterious Supervisory Special Agent, but she was intimidating, and she wasn’t sure the woman could be entirely trusted. She was well known amongst her peers, however, and was a reliable and safe pick to lead this mission. 1000’. The team leader was not the cause of Emilia’s anxiety today, however. No, it was the presence of the Knights of Ren aboard the vessel that unnerved her. While it is true that the Security Bureau frequently relied upon the combat expertise of the Ren, Emilia’s own experiences with the saber wielders had been… Unpleasant. Memories of Zmej Ren forcing her to shoot an unarmed prisoner were at the forefront of her mind whenever the group came up in conversation.

She concentrated on her flying, the Research Base was visible now, its corridors and low buildings stretched across the flat expanse of the Eastern Plateau. The base had housed over 3000 colonists. It was hard to believe there was no sign of what had happened here. Maybe it was all buried underneath the snow and ice, or hidden in the mist. Across from the base was a dark lake, its waters rippling slightly in the slight breeze. Emilia turned her head, for some reason she didn’t want to look at it. From the ground up to about knee level, a white fog of ice crystals and water droplets covered the stark landscape as far as the eye could see, and in the air, sheets of mist drifted up to heights of over 20m. The world was alien and unwelcoming, and Emilia wasn’t looking forward to stepping outside.

Emilia touched the ship down gently, its landing pads crunching softly against the snow and ice of the ground below. She got out of her chair slowly, grimacing from the pain in her side. The injury she’d sustained in Theed was yet to fully heal, and she was troubled with muscle aches and stiffness from her hip up to her left shoulder. Stretching her aching muscles, she yawned and made her way down to where the rest of the party was donning their gear, preparing to go out into the cold.

It was time to explore.

[member="Raijin"] - [member="Zul Grimm"] - [member="Varas Kyrel"] - [member="Nemesis Nemonus"] - [member="Myrne"] - [member="The Major"] - [member="Jude Falkrowe"]​

 

[Connor Harrison]

A First Order Snowtrooper, holding a F-11D blaster in their right hand, looking across the loading bay of a Corvette, and a black lightsaber hilt hanging on the utility belt, beside the spare charge pack, on the right thigh. Not something you saw every day.

But then, Raijin was grateful for the unique white armour to hide his face from the First Order troops and the Ren on-board. This was part of his way back into the Order gaining the trust back he lost once upon a former life serving them. His left gloved hand gripped the railing above as the ship was taken down and the order relayed out again. Not so much a trooper dressed to play war games, but more to survive and traverse the harsh terrain under the umbrella of the First Order image itself.

Raijin kept his gaze forward through the thin eye-piece and swayed gently as he felt the ship circle.

There was nobody on board he recognised, which was a good thing. He could operate as he wished to do the job and aid the others, and that way start to ascend the ladder. It was seconds later that the ship touched down with a final gentle shudder before the engines cooled and the diegetic silence of the ship echoed quietly around them.

Monitors flicked with read-outs of the planet, radar readings kept a wider eye out and connections to other ships in orbit were open and beeped, chimed and hummed as the armour of the troops clattered gently.

The helmet turned as the Dark warrior took in the faces that were not covered. Hopefully this would be a simple enough operation to understand more about the Sith Empire to the east. Raijin let go of the railing and stood still and silent, waiting for the command to disembark and to move out.

[member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Zul Grimm"] | [member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Nemesis Nemonus"] | [member="Myrne"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Jude Falkrowe"]

 

[R4v3rghost]

From the outside, they all look the same.

A simple assessment. As Myrne sat among the others who had been dispatched to Nycteria, yet alone, he looked around him. Taking in the sets of white snowtrooper armor worn by most of the other people on the corvette with his blood red eyes, he analyzed them. It was to protect themselves from the cold. The assessment made him realize he had forgotten what cold was, it had been too long to remember. It was part of the past, that time was irrelevant now. He had been without the guidance of Him. His own slender figure was not covered in white, the Force would shield him. As it had always done. It was all he had, all he was. A conduit through which the Force could be channeled, used in the way He wished.

But one of them is nothing like the rest. He is like me. No, he is not. He is similar, but different.

It was not just the crossguard lightsaber that hung from his hip that made him different. He was like the Disciple in that he stood within the Dark side, yet there was something different. He did not feel like a Ren. It made Myrne question who he was, what he was, but if he was here it was willed to be so. Trust would have to be given, and so it would be done. Perhaps in time he would find out what made this man different, he thought, but as quickly as it came the curiosity was quickly culled from his mind. It mattered not, he was not to seek answers. He was to do what had to be done.

Perhaps the stranger had picked up on Myrne's musings about him through the Force, perhaps he had not. They were not shielded or kept to himself, as not a single thought was. What he did with them was his choice.

[member="Raijin"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Zul Grimm"] | [member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Nemesis Nemonus"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Jude Falkrowe"]

 

[Armand Temi]

Varas was not fond of traveling to a location where three thousand sentient beings had completely disappeared without a trace. While probe droids yielded nothing, in her narrow view, the job appeared more suited to some kind of expeditionary group of scientists, not the FOSB or the Ren. But then again, given some of the more unorthodox methods of propaganda aimed at the Stenax on Kulthis, she assumed much of this - whatever it was that she’d be doing for the First Order - was not in any type of formal job description.

The young clone would never voice these opinions, but up until now, she'd assumed that being an operative meant clandestinely sneaking in and out of high profile buildings, pretending to be a duchess or politician, or even a little bit of explosive sabotage from time to time.

During the journey in, the copper-blonde Disciple did little else but sip strong espcaf from a matte black thermos and watch the visual wonder of the nebula as they slowly passed it by, a mesmerizing sight that lent itself to a dreamy preoccupation with memories of her parents. Of course, she’d been told by Lim Dau that they were her memories, but she figured out quite quickly that these were the implanted impressions from Kyrel and Tmoxin’s lives.

Varas was not looking forward to the bulky snow trooper armor, so she waited until the last possible moment to slip into it, nearly heading out in the barren, frozen tundra with a gap somewhere, until the suit beeped the shrillest alarm in her helm to let her know she was not properly sealed in. After rectifying that, her ears were still ringing even thirty minutes later as the party of agents and Ren exited the ship. Following directly behind [member="Emilia Ravel"], watching her uneven gait - the woman was clearly favoring one leg - she asked, “Are you alright? You seem to be limping..."

Not well versed in the art of social graces, she saw nothing wrong with asking about a presumed or perceived flaw, no matter how trivial.

[member="Raijin"] [member="Zul Grimm"] [member="Nemesis Nemonus"] [member="Myrne"] [member="The Major"] [member="Jude Falkrowe"]

 

[Rhaegar Nemesis Dib]

He rested in one of the seats surrounded by others. Eyes hidden behind dark shades he watched the troops with impunity. Most were garbed in the armor and sealed suits to defend their bodies against the cold of the planet they were landing on. A few more were gearing up. Shaking his head slightly at the shrill alarm emanating from one of the suits he turned in his seat to watch a young woman struggle with the seal for what seemed like hours but was truly no more then several minutes.

Leaning back he rested and waited for the troops to rise for their departure from the landed ship. Dressed in a light grey suit he lightly drummed his fingers upon the smooth surface of his cane. It was not his ideal opinion of his usage here on this silent planet. However he was coming to terms with answering to another, something he hadn't done for many years. The Order of Ren were mysterious and held massive sway in the First Order ranks. And he was here to follow orders. Nothing more and nothing less.

And there were several Ren within the party. He watched silently as the troops and Ren disembarked, the one with the issues with her suit speaking to Emilia Ravel, a woman he had the pleasure of meeting during the Ossus operation. Following behind he moved from the ramp with careful placement of his elegant cane. A rush of cold swept the landing site and a small smirk touched his face for a moment before being swept away. The cold nor heat never bothered him. Nor any that he had descended from. It was one of their gifts. And the Dragon of Dorin felt neither bite of the cold nor the numbness of freezing.

Stepping from the ramp and nearing Emilia he gave a slight nod to the woman before scanning the landscape and it's white, unbroken sheet of ice and snow.

[member="Varas Kyrel"] [member="Myrne"] [member="Raijin"] [member="Emilia Ravel"]

 

[The Major]

Nycteria, ice lashing destination​

There was more than plenty of time to prepare every bit of equipment, and pour through every slither of technical data that was available in the First Order’s intelligence banks regarding the frozen world. Being an agent that was worth her weight in salt enabled her to harass other databanks as well for a bit of cross examination. Frustration at the lack of concrete reports or even history of the planet would have to be put aside for the tantalizing allure of secrecy. What had happened to the lost colony? As far as the operation’s commander could ascertain a number of things could be the cause of the failure state here: perhaps the population had defected and were actively hampering any communications with their leaders. If such was the case, then the Ren would make quick work of the lot and cut them down. Such a large group cleanly turning traitor was unlikely, but galactic history had proven that stranger things had happened. Next, a series of mishaps might have plagued the inhabitants as the facility succumbed to the elements. So lonely, so isolated, and without a means to call for help or escape; she could vividly imagine the drama as comrades pulled straws on who was to be eaten as the long, cold dark consumed them all in a bleak teeth-splitting Hell. Finally, and what the Major truly hoped for, was the chance the official records of tapping this as a forward surveillance post were a lie -and that this location was in fact a testing facility for some kind of biohazard or volatile drug. Fantasies of stumbling across some monstrous abnormality teased her brain with violent flashes of such stalwart Force users gallantly protecting themselves to no avail -it all painted such a beautiful portrait for the after-action report.

Ach, be still, my heart.​

Besides such mental gymnastics, study, mediation, and meticulous weapon cleaning the enigmatic agent known as the Major had spent the rest of the travel time happily gossiping about the recent actions in the Ossus Sector to Miss Ravel. The somewhat morbid woman had a plethora of nicknames for Emilia that might constitute a sufficient human resources violation had the Security Bureau bothered to maintain one. Deep down the alias addled markswoman was quite affectionate in thought towards the ranking Staff Officer, and considered her acquaintance a blossoming friendship. Emilia was infectious in a way that only an earnest person who almost perpetually failed could be. It was only too bad that she would not heed her friend’s advice and remain monitoring the situation in the relative safety of the ship. What a delightful treat for the Bureau.

Unlike this set of Ren. ​

What a miserable and sordid bunch they were -lacking in panache like Master Kyrel or Commander Derith. But no matter, for the Major knew that everyone in the big bad galaxy had to develop and train to reach a certain style. She only regretted that an annoying sense of precognition was telling her to expect some kind of holier than thou rant about the Force, how the Ren were superior in genetic makeup, and on power and on and on and on. However, it would amiss to write off their skills; irresponsible, even. Each one had already proven their vast potential.

The operation leader strode into the loading bay, purposefully waiting for everyone to be done preparing before marching in with a dignified and brisque sense of action. Tall and of proud stature, the Major wore the white FO-O2 snow armor without the clunky helmet -opting to instead to don a thick gray scarf and a withered tricorn hat with wrappings to cover her ears. In this fashion the scarf was obfuscating everything on her face except for her glasses and a pair of shadowy blue eyes. A sanguine cloak gently floated behind her back in the style reminiscent of Captain Phasma. Toting a long antique rifle with a oddly shaped bayonet lug secured to the barrel upon one shoulder the woman shot her head left and right, apparently glaring at each person about to disembark.

“Hmph!” She shrugged contemptuously. Off to war with another motley crew, it was all in day’s work in the FOSB.

Rather than further waiting the Major punched the emergency release with a fist. Cold sliced into the cabin with alarming swiftness.

“Maintain formation and dare not fall behind. Move!” Barked the four-eyed operative before plunging into the vast wonderland, her cloak flapping in a breathtaking red against the peaceful whiteness.

They would either follow or tarry in rebellion. Regardless, she bounded at a steady clip, moving with little trouble in the snow. As a hunter on her cold homeworld of Almania, these pitiful drifts were of no significance. Conditions rapidly deteriorated the further they moved from the landing zone, and soon visibility was compromised. Somehow, the Major maintained course and lead her group truthfully towards the massive entrance plaza of the facility.

Spoiler

[member="Raijin"] - [member="Zul Grimm"] - [member="Varas Kyrel"] - [member="Nemesis Nemonus"] - [member="Myrne"] - [member="Emilia Ravel"] - [member="Jude Falkrowe"]

 

[Kirie]

Nycteria, Eastern Plateau
Nycteria Exploration Base.


Dr Fiona Ziegler sat slumped in her quarters, unmoving. From the one small window in the cramped room, faint white light poured in, but did little to alleviate the gloom. The rays bounced off her pale skin, highlighting the fine coating of frost that coated every inch of the woman. 2 months ealier, in a stupor, she'd deactivated the base's climate control mechanism, causing the temperature inside to plummet, and preserving the corpses of the 3000 colonists that had died on this Force forsaken rock. They had all succumbed to The Noise. Some, earlier than others, and her last of all. But in the end, even she had fallen, recording her last message to her family, alone and afraid, in a dead station.

Fiona had died that day, the polite explorer from Naboo had breathed her last, finally finding peace from the presence that had shadowed her mind for upwards of 6 months. The body however, was a vessel. As the First Order team touched down by the lake, still unaware of the danger they were in, her body stirred. Her eyes shot open, cracking the ice that had covered them. Her heart was restarted, breath escaped her lungs, a fine cloud of condensation drifting from her blue lips. Once by one, her ruined limbs moved, cracking and tearing the frozen muscle. Around the station, the other bodies remained motionless, their time would come, they just lacked the strength of this specimen.

The body stood up, slowly flexing the fingers in each hand. She moved forward, stepping awkwardly and clumsily, and forcing open the door to her room. The corridor outside was still, bodies littered the floor in places, still frozen, and covered in frost. The only light sources were skylights, most covered with a layer of snow. The girl probably would have found it eerie, but the body ignored it.

The departed their ship, and moved towards the base. They were unaware of exactly what happened to the last people to try and invade this world, but they would soon. For they would share the same fate.

Discarded on the floor, a relic of the woman who’d once inhabited the body, a small book, bound in cloth, opened to the first page, where, neatly scribed, was an entry dated 22/7. Almost 8 months ago now. On a shelf beside it, a recorder and a microphone. These lost documents tell the story of the base. For those that can find them, the truth will be revealed.

[member="The Major"] - [member="Nemesis Nemonus"] - [member="Varas Kyrel"] - [member="Myrne"] - [member="Raijin"]​

 

[Julius Thonn]

[member="The Major"] - [member="Nemesis Nemonus"] - [member="Varas Kyrel"] - [member="Myrne"] - [member="Raijin"] - [member="Emilia Ravel"]​

​

Out of all the Agents on this mission, he knew he was likely the odd one out the bunch, that is, who wasn't one of those force-wielding Rens that was coming along. He'd say they should mind their own business, but here they were, traveling deep into Space so they could establish a reconnaissance station. Sort of hypocritical to tell them to shove off... Dark eyes swept throughout the cabin as the ship continued its descent. From his holster on his thigh, the old looking slugthrower was patted gently before the shuttle rocked.

The FO-X1 armour was black, environmentally sealed, sported a cloaking device, and a plethora of other tools that it also shared with the FO-02 stormtrooper armour that other members of the team bore.

The team was preparing to move out.

Reaching down, he adjusted the strap of the E-22 blaster rifle and placed both of his hands on the barrel as their team leader, the Major, ordered them to attention and readying up.

She leapt into the snow, and the darkly clad Special Agent leapt into it behind her. First mission that wasn't within the boundaries of the First Order.

He wasn't getting left behind.

 

[Zef Halo]

Jude pursed his lips at the sight of the unit being ready and his half-full cup of warm coffee. Why? Why did they have to hurry all the time? Why was everyone so determined to get their butts outside in the friggin' cold. Jude's last memorable excursion into a cold, icy planet was a disaster. Castameer and the Omega weapon occasionally. haunted him. Hopefully, they'd be no superweapons to destroy here which would ultimately lead into thousands of casualties.

He glanced around the unit and remembered the dossiers of those in the unit. The lightsaber hilt clipped on one of them 'troopers' reminded him the fact the Ren were also dispatched on this mission. For Force knows what reason. Their presence made him double check the Force Disperser Talisman hanging under his shirt. No need for the extra attention.

The agent donned his armor chestplate and worked around sealing well the rest of the armor's parts. Routine job. He'd served in the corps before being drafted into the Bureau. Within the helmet, the familiar HUD lit up and he swung his head around to calibrate his visor.

Ramp opened up and the team leader didn't waste a moment for doubt to leave the safe and warm ship behind.

That's when he noticed the oddity. Well, two oddities.

One was a guy with no armor or whatsoever.

The other was the team leader's lack of a helmet. He chuckled.

:: Nice looking scarf, cap. Where do we bet on your head freezing over? :: Jude asked sarcastically through the comms.

[member="Julius Thonn"] | [member="Dr Fiona Ziegler"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Nemesis Nemonus"] | [member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Myrne"] | [member="Raijin"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"]​

 

[Connor Harrison]

Six bodies in the party that started off across the frozen landscape, but would six return?

Raijin looked left to right as [member="The Major"] barked her order and the expedition began towards the looming facility in the distance, its huge outline framed within the reduced light, low hanging mist and chilly frost in the air. Not that the frost was an issue nor even the cold of the planet itself – the armour he wore kept his body temperature regulated.

It was a strange sensation, wearing the armour. It took away his identity; took away the risk. He was just another body serving a greater purpose, but it was a body that was a walking target; a grunt in white and a faceless soldier of the First Order.

Fingers gripped the butt of the blaster as he walked forward, crunching over the snow with little resistance and looking straight ahead, head turning this way and that to survey the surroundings.

”Suspected resistance?”

He spoke out, voice a little distorted through the helmet, as he began to paint a picture of the place they were going.

[member="Dr Fiona Ziegler"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Zul Grimm"] | [member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Nemesis Nemonus"] | [member="Myrne"] | [member="Jude Falkrowe"]

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Nycteria, Eastern Plateau,
Landing site.

Emilia stepped off the loading ramp, her boots sinking softly into the loose snow until they made contact with the rough stone of the plateau. She looked right, the lake's dark waters stretched out before her, its edge just visible through the thickening fog. To her left, the Nycteria Exploration Base's low buildings twisted and turned, trailing off into the distance. Directly in front, the small party followed [member="The Major"], and ahead of them was the large building that served as the main entrance to the Base.

They were a strange bunch, one of the Disciples, an odd-looking man, wore no armour at all, and Emilia assumed he had some other method of protecting herself. All of the others wore the standard FO-02 Snow Trooper armour, save for one agent, clad in FO-X1 Infiltration Armour, a personal favourite of Emila's. Every single one of them was an intimidating and highly capable agent... Except her. No surprises there, she thought ruefully. At least she wasn't in command for this mission. She figured after the fiasco on Naboo it'd be some time before the brass let her take the reigns again, but that suited her just fine.

As she walked away from the ship, her small stature and noticeable limp made her stand out, a weak figure in the pack. She left the whine of the spinning-down engines behind, and a new sound entered her ears, barely audible through her helmet. It was a low droning, so low in fact that you could feel it more than you could hear it. It hung in the air, present beneath the crunching of their feet, and the static of the short-range communicators.

A couple of the operatives started chatting, and she lost track of the sound. [member="Raijin"] asked aloud if they would find any resistance in the base, Emilia answered honestly. "I don't know," she said. "Anything could have happened to these people, but just looking at the base, I don't think we'll find anyone living out here." The entrance building had suffered in the elements, clearly it hadn't been maintained. The metal walls were dirty and even warped in places, large drifts of snow were piled against the great metal doors, which were rusted shut. On the roof, a twisted weather vane spun slowly, the only activity on the otherwise still structure.

The droning sound still remained, it was starting to irritate her. She spoke up, half out of curiosity and half to drown it out for a moment. "Does anyone else hear that?"

- [member="Raijin"] - [member="Jude Falkrowe"] - [member="Julius Thonn"] - [member="The Major"] - [member="Nemesis Nemonus"] - [member="Varas Kyrel"] - [member="Myrne"] - ​

 

[Judah Lesan]

The team assembled together as the corvette neared its destination. Verza stood out of the way and observed the crew which was gathered. His assessment was of no opinion as he was conditioned to be obedient and to kill without flinching. Still, as they waited he looked over every face and pulled up their resoecitve files in his HUD as they gathered.

Some were like him, conditioned from a young age to serve the First Order with unwaivering obedience. There were those who were there by choice. Then there were the Ren. Those files he could not see. Every bit of who they were was redacted or simply did not exist. It was an uneasy thought that these force users were part of them but not. The relationship called for a tenuous balance that was only maintained by the Supreme Leader himself.

Verza listened. The assignment was simple. Assess the base, determine its value, and discern the reason 3,000 lives went missing. The assassin only needed to know his part in the mission in conjunction with the rest of the team. Should would be paired with, what was their task relative? He felt redundant knowing what his specifications and skill sets were, but he also knew every plan had contingency. Verza assumed he was contingency.

His attention was piqued at the mention of a sound. His head canted as a finger went to his ear. Verza took two steps forward and regarded [member="Emilia Ravel"]. Tuning through several layers and frequencies of various noises which were native to the ship, Verza recorded the one sound which was not.

<<< "Do you mean this sound? >>>

Verza played the recording back so everyone could hear it, the voice changer in his helmet acting as the speaker. When the recording stopped he stated the obvious.

<<< "I do not think we are alone..." >>>

[member="Jude Falkrowe"] | [member="Julius Thonn"] | [member="Dr Fiona Ziegler"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Nemesis Nemonus"] | [member="Varas Kyrel"] |[member="Myrne"]​

 

[Armand Temi]

Despite the protective snowtrooper suit, Varas found herself utterly fascinated with the white, powdery stuff under her boots. Every so often she would bend down and brush a little bit off of her shins, just to feel it with her armored hands. What does it taste like? She knew it would be cold, but how cold? She had only memories of snow from one of her parents, but this was the first time she’d ever seen anything like it. The copper-blonde Disciple furtively looked around to make sure she wasn’t embarrassing herself with her sheer wonderment of Nycteria, and her urge to dive into the snow for further inspection.

Varas likely had the same kind of self-defeating inner monologue going on as Emilia, but she was in peak shape physically and as taut as a coiled spring waiting to burst from its fibonnaci spiral.

Then the droning started. Perhaps that conditioning would be put to the test now.

She immediately stopped walking and tried to enhance her hearing using the Force, amplifying the sound to identify it. The Disciple’s voice had a mechanical and muffled twang from the helmet.

“I hear it.”

She looked over at Emilia and then approached the metal doors, placing her hands upon the snow which blocked the way. Again, using the Force she began to heat up ice so that it slowly melted and began to slide away in chunky, flat slabs.

[member="Raijin"] [member="Zul Grimm"] [member="Nemesis Nemonus"] [member="Myrne"] [member="The Major"] [member="Jude Falkrowe"] [member="Verza Lor"] [member="Emilia Ravel"]

 

[Kirie]

The body moved along the corridor. Water dripped from her arms and legs as she moved, the frost melting from the heat of her awakened body. Her heart was beating heavily in her chest, driving the hot blood that drive the ice from the extremities of her body. She could sense that the invaders were approaching, she quickened her step.

She paused by the body of one of the Security Officers. Dimly, she recalled he might have been called Stan, not that it mattered anymore. He was slumped against the wall, his blaster rifle strapped over his shoulder and leaning on his chest. The wound in his stomach had long since frozen over. It was dark red, the blood crusty and old. The body knelt by him, removing the blaster rifle, and then the man's thick coat. She ignored the man's name tag; "Hi, I'm Stan," and draped the garment across her shoulders. That should be enough to stop her from freezing over for now, her own heat wouldn't last forever.

The body stood up and resumed walking, crossing the threshold from the Residential Block to the Central Hub. Here, the chaos of the colony's collapse was most apparent. Blaster fire scorched the walls, metal paneling had fallen from the ceiling, exposing pipes and wires. The corpses of half a dozen security officers were arrayed around the reception desk, killed one-by-one by other desperate survivors. On the walls, and against the Base's main entrance, dirt, makeshift sandbags, concrete, and furniture had been piled haphazardly against the walls in an last ditch effort to ward off The Noise. It hadn't been enough.

Moving across the floor, and stepping to avoid a slick puddle of ice and frozen blood, she left the Central Hub, and entered the narrow, backwater corridors that lead to Nycteria's power supply and generators. This area was largely intact; even in the hysteria of the collapse, the remaining survivors knew that they could not live without the power and heating on. That didn't stop the hundreds that tried to escape the base, as if fleeing to the outside would do any good.

Pouring cold fuel into the generator, the body rubbed her hands together. By her estimate, she didn't have much time before her limbs seized, and she would be ejected back into the endless nothingness. All the more reason to get the heat on.

The generator started with a rumble, powering the automatic wipers that pushed the snow from the array of solar panels on top of and behind the base. A minute later, power began to return to the freezing facility. An electric hum filled the room. A separate and inferior buzzing to that of her familiar Noise. It was these people that were making her do this. Their fault that the peace of this world was once again being disturbed. She felt anger, the first emotion since she had risen. The invaders must pay for coming here.

Once the power had been restored, she strode over the opposite side of the room, where a number of hefty switches clung to the wall. She lowered the first three, her hands sticking to the frigid metal. After a moment's hesitation, the Base's huge air conditioning units activated. The great fans turning and rumbling. Steam billowed out from the air vents in the ceiling, slowly spreading out across the base. What was frozen would now be thawed.

[member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Verza Lor"] | [member="Raijin"] | [member="Jude Falkrowe"] | [member="Julius Thonn"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Nemesis Nemonus"] | [member="Myrne"]​

 

[Connor Harrison]

The snow crunched more as they traversed the virgin white blanket to the man-made facility of iron and steel as the ground turned from pure snow to smooth rock and metal, frost coating it all.

The warrior was distracted by the trooper identified as [member="Varas Kyrel"] who seemed to be fascinated and curious about the snow itself. They acted as if they had never been allowed outside or travelled beyond a building. Were they a new breed of clone Force solider kept in a tube all day, or simply one trooper who never travelled? He shook his head and carried on.

As the unit relayed the noise, Raijin slowed down and turned 360 degrees, looking up and around, hand gripped on the blaster, finger laid beside the trigger ready to fire. He heard it; a low humming sound that pertained to an engine, or machine warming up. He nodded slowly as Varas began to work on the ice sheeting over the door.

”It’s a machine. An engine. Someone – or something – has activated a - ”

A loud crack sounded from above. A large dome, looking like an observatory pod, was listing as ice and rock crumbled away from it. With a groan, it began to topple forwards.

”Heads! Get out the way!”

Raijin shouted as he stepped back, far enough away from the dome as it started to fall.

[member="Dr Fiona Ziegler"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Zul Grimm"] |[member="Nemesis Nemonus"] | [member="Myrne"] | [member="Jude Falkrowe"] | [member="Verza Lor"]

 

[The Major]

This group was a rowdy, qippy bunch -and the op. Leader did not like it a bit. Too cocksure, they were. It was enough to make a more disciplined agent sick to the stomach. Anger melted away any of the biting cold -not that the red caped markswoman was troubled by it anyways. Her heavy wool hat and scarf were far more effective than some clunky, overpriced, and overproduced First Order armor. Heavy defenses only promoted passivity in her book.

What was hard to say was if the annoying and ever increasing buzz in her ear was causing the Major to be more irritated, or if this was just her normal vitriol. What was that nonsense? Some kind of background generator rumbling underneath the facility?

::Cut the chatter, you lot! Enough complaining about noise.:: She bellowed over the team’s private channel as they neared the front door. Ironically her stern utterance covered the background noise as her authoritative timber filled their various audio receptors.

::Listen up! We expect anything from an empty house to a fully manned facility with 3,000 civilians and security detail. Our parameters are ONLY to examine and ascertain what happened here. If suitable, we will set up a preliminary forward post to be manned by our comrades.

::We are NOT here to save anyone. We are NOT here to help. Trust no one inside. Protect yourselves, and your fireteam. And if anyone gets in your way?

:: Do not hesitate. Cut them down. Understood?::

Just as she finished her outline of the mission, the warrior downspin named Raijin barked a warning that was particularly effective. A part of the building was falling. Going backwards was the most common instinct. It wasn’t bold enough for a hunter.

The Major crunched snow as she leapt forward unto all fours, and then pushed into a low, predatory sprint which completed in a tumbling roll. Those long limbs served her well, and she cleared the danger with the sheerest of dumb luck -and partly because of the overhead concrete lip above the main entrance which managed to cover her from some nasty chunks of metal.

Looking around, her body flooded with hot blooded frustration at the thought of losing any one of her team members. Before even checking to see if she had sustained injuries, the Supervisory Agent was already trying to find her way around the rubble.

::SOUND OFF! Any injuries?::

Internally, she was frantically praying that each person would respond and be unharmed -even if it meant suffering through a multitude of sly one liners. Oddly enough, she found herself most concerned and picturing Emilia crushed under the broken dome. Not like this. No. Not like this. Don't die like this.

[member="Raijin"] - [member="Zul Grimm"] - [member="Varas Kyrel"] - [member="Nemesis Nemonus"] - [member="Myrne"] - [member="Emilia Ravel"] - [member="Jude Falkrowe"] - [member="Julius Thonn"]​

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

[member="The Major"] tutted at them. Scolding the party to focus on the mission. Emilia pursed her lips. The Supervisory Special Agent was in charge, and she respected that. After all, the woman had already saved Emilia's life once, she was confident in relying on her as a leader. The Major was something of a rising star in the FOSB. Her efficiency and success rate had been noticed by her peers, and she was recognized as fearless and intimidating. Emilia had heard her fair share of rumours about the woman, but of course they were all fabricated. Emilia knew as well as anyone that nobody had any information on The Major. She was as mysterious as she was professional.

Her reverie was broken when [member="Raijin"] called out, yelling for them to watch their heads. A huge chunk of the domed structure of the Base's roof was collapsing. The ice that had delicately held the structure in place had been disturbed somehow, and now large sections of metal had sheared off, and were sliding down towards them.

Ahead of her, The Major ran and dived forward, and Emilia looked around. She couldn't move as fast as the others, so that limited her options. Instinctively, she dodged right, just missing a length of pipe. The rubble was descending now, the large mass teetering on the edge, and then overbalancing. She dove backwards, avoiding the debris narrowly and being covered with a shower of snow.

She sat up, wiping the snow from her visor and off her shoulders. After a moment, the Major broadcasted on the radio, making sure everyone was accounted for. She replied quickly.

"I'm fine, it missed me."

[member="The Major"] | [member="Raijin"] | [member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Verza Lor"] | [member="Jude Falkrowe"] | [member="Julius Thonn"] | [member="Nemesis Nemonus"] | [member="Myrne"]​

 

[Armand Temi]

The mission leader’s instructions blurted in her ear - too loud at first - until she adjusted the audio in the helm. They were to remain quiet.

Fine by me; the less talking the better.

A less charitable thought flickered through her laboratory-built brain. I did not come to save anyone. Varas’s job was exactly to do as she was told. Yet as a Disciple of Ren, altruism and mercy was not on her agenda in any form.

Groannnnnnn. Floop, floop, floop.

Parts of the building began to fall, but the snow muffled the cacophony.

At the shouted warnings, the copper-blonde jumped back, the Force enhancing her leap and she crouched in the snow once she landed, peering up, the glare of the sun whiter than the ground covering.

She watched the others scatter and move from the falling debris, she wondered. Would I save them? Kyrel’s daughter was the only true Ren here, though others had poignant Force signatures.

Still the question tugged at her psyche and as the emotion drained from her as she listened to the mutterings of how close they'd come to disaster, she found herself bereft of any personal concern towards them.

[member="The Major"] | [member="Raijin"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Verza Lor"] | [member="Jude Falkrowe"] | [member="Julius Thonn"] | [member="Nemesis Nemonus"] | [member="Myrne"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Silence.

Yes, that was the word.

Since the Galactic Alliance assault on Hoth and Bespin Val hadn't been quite the same person. A part of herself felt like it was missing, aside from the quite obvious loss of her lower arm. Hilikan, the name forever burned into her memory. It had been there her confidence had been shattered, and though she feigned well Val knew she just wasn't quite all there. She often found her mind drifting, almost like it was now. With a sigh, she traced her fingers delicately over the scarred flesh below her elbow. It was still sensitive, but as he fingers traced along it they contacted the metal - grafted to her body, she'd had a prosthetic installed. It had taken her time to get used to it, but now it had begun to feel just as much a part of her as her flesh and bone hand had been. Reluctantly, she was beginning to admit, it may even give her an advantage she'd not had before. Flexing the fingers of her prosthetic hand she watched her fingertips dance - this was now a part of her, it was who she was. Her footsteps crunched near silently behind the main group but a glance upward convinced the woman she needed to get her head back in the game, this wasn't a walk in Avalonia Square. As she made to catch up, she heard the cry go out.

"Heads! Get out the way!"​

​

*Fething hell.* She thought to herself, eyes rising upwards just in time to see a large chunk of the domed structure breaking and headed directly towards where they stood. With a grunt and an angled dive she threw herself forwards and to the right, with luck she might just avoid the debris. A moment later a thundering crunch could be heard throwing up snow and ice as the debris impacted the ground where she and the others had stood only seconds before. Pushing up from where she'd landed, Val brushed the light blanket of snow that now found itself attached to her outermost layer. Unlike some of the others, she'd chosen commercial gear instead of the standard issue - one of the benefits of being an FOSB Veteran she supposed. As she regained her footing she spoke up.

:: All clear here, near miss though. ::​

​

[member="The Major"] | [member="Raijin"] | [member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Verza Lor"] | [member="Jude Falkrowe"] | [member="Julius Thonn"] | [member="Nemesis Nemonus"] | [member="Myrne"]​

 

[The Major]

Good. Good. The rest of the members of the team called out and confirmed their status, although the incessant noise was causing that confirmation to be far more aggravating than should have been. Looking about at the rubble the operation leader noticed Agent Kordova dusting herself off. The familiarity of it sort of reset the Major and keep her tethered to the moment rather than letting the buzz overtake her senses.

"'Fething Hell'. I like that. Think I'll use that next time." You couldn't see it under the scarf, but the supervisory agent was smiling widely.

::Looks like the front doors have been damaged by the collapse. Up and in then.::

Producing a grappling hook, the operative aimed up towards the second floor and shot. A moment later she was zipping upwards and catching unto the facade next to a sturdy looking window. Her intention was to be discreet, but considering the building had a degrading structural integrity, she figured speed would be their best option. Smashing the pane with the stock of her antique rifle, the Major mantled in. Crunching glass filled the air as her boots passed over the remains of her work. It was dark here. The lights of the facility must've been spotty in places.

On the positive side it was already much more comfortable inside, if only for the fact that the structure hid one from directly being buffeted by the blizzard outside.

[member="Raijin"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Verza Lor"] | [member="Jude Falkrowe"] | [member="Julius Thonn"] | [member="Nemesis Nemonus"] | [member="Myrne"] | [member="Val Kordova"]