What Was Once Lost; Now Found. [First Order - Tier Two Dominion of Rehl Prime and Gilaria]

[LT-137]

​

REHL PRIME​

Objective One: Echoes of Our Ancient Past:

During a routine sector patrol, elements within the First Order Navy had uncovered a Pre-hyperspace seed world beset by the horrors of perpetual conflict. What had drawn the Imperial’s interest at first was the perplexing enigma that shrouded this far-flung, and unknown world. There was no-record of how the native population of humans had come to be, as many of the ancient, and nigh-mythical Zhell colony ships had been long since accounted for. Thus, while the Military is saddled with their own objective for this world, the Exploratory Corps has issued a task for those that have interest. Uncover the truth behind the origins of the Rehl, and if at all possible, determine the cause of their perpetual conflict.

Objective Two: Compliance Action:

As the revelation of a Wartorn world near First Order space had filtered back through the chain of command, Imperial High Command had given mobilization orders to their armed forces to pacify the endless conflict. Due to their primitive culture, recently unearthed by the planet’s discovery, a single Star Destroyer and a small contingent of Stormtroopers were dispatched to bring the planet into Imperial Compliance - by force. It wouldn’t stand for an Organization built upon the principles of Law and Order to allow such chaos to stand, let alone in their backyard. As a Soldier of the First Order, you have been tasked to bring the world of Rehl Prime back from the chaotic abyss by any means necessary (Rules of engagement still apply. No Bombardments.) Force these miscreants into compliance, and show them the light of Imperial Truth.

Objective Three: The Imperial Mission:

While the peoples of Rehl Prime as misguided, and easily swayed by the clarion call of war, there are those within the First Order that seek to enlighten these savages to the glorious culture of Imperial Society, and bring them into the light of the modern era. In order for such events to come to pass, those Kind-hearted souls will have to descend to the surface of the world and learn of these warring factions. Then, once the knowledge of these misguided people is attained, your efforts will allow for the slow, and safe, acclamation of the populace into the First Order’s benevolent grasp. You are hereby Ordered to mingle amongst the populace, and render aid whenever and wherever possible.

​

GILARIA | GILARIAN(S)​

Objective One: The Hive of Scum and Villainy (The City of Alouten):

When a world is rebuilt and resettled, there is a constant demand for a vast amount of credits, to supplement a costly resettlement. Not all of these contributors are from reputable sources, however - which upon revelation of a seedy criminal element amongst the native population seeking to purchase land; upon which they would lay the foundations of their base and spread out into the vast unknown, seeking to spread their corruptive influence wherever they go. The First Order Security Bureau has tasked both it’s own compliment of Stormtroopers and Agents, along with outside contractors (Who would only be given the information required to finish their assigned tasks, and the regulations to keep their tracks covered.) with purging this far-flung world of it’s criminal influence. Upon completion of this task, the Security Bureau’s Director believes that that native’s would be more welcoming to an Imperial Presence. Your mission, should you choose to accept it - will be to uncover the truth behind this organization, forcibly dismantle it, and bring the evidence of their insidious plots to the Imperial Ambassadors for diplomatic ammunition.

Objective Two: A Broken Home; Rebuilt (The Cities of Calmisgrad and Triodet.):

As Imperial Ambassador’s meet with the various Chairs of the Gilaran Confederacy, their Government has requested our assistance in a personal matter. They have asked that a small contingent of soldiers assist the native Defence Force in clearing out an invasive species that was brought to their world by a careless spacer, whom had hoped to sell these creatures off as livestock. The Imperial Archives have revealed to us that these creatures are the Gizka, which have been known to populate many systems throughout the galaxy. Their short reproduction and gestation cycle allows just two of these vile creatures to spawn dozens more in a short period of time. Due to the reports handed to our expeditionary force, it’s believed that the spacer had brought these creatures to Gilaria several weeks ago - thus causing more than just a headache for the local militia. As they have infested a site marked for resettlement, and the Native’s are under equipped to finish the task - you are hereby ordered to wipe out the Gizka. All of them.

Objective Three: Hope, Beneath the Waves (The City of Vorthal):

Word has passed through the grapevine and has reached the Security Bureau’s ears about a new variant of Kolto, that has been grown and harvested beneath the surface of Gilaria. Our turncoat sources within the native populace has indicated that this genus of the miracle salve is similar to what’s naturally found on Manaan, but less potent in terms of its ability to heal. This has caused a spark of interest in various members of our scientific community, as they’re curious to see if the information provided to us by our sources if accurate. Which may very well lead them to the possibility of replicating this new genus of Kolto, and perhaps making the effort to unlock the lost capabilities of it’s evolutionary ancestor. This mission will require stealth of the utmost degree, for if we are caught stealing into an underground facility where they store the harvested Kolto, all of our best laid plans will fall apart - forcing our occupation rather than being willingly accepted. Learn the location and subsequently infiltrate the facility, then acquire a sample and exfiltrate without a trace. Thread the needle and return home, or face the consequences of failure.

Bring Your Own Objective(s) - Do your thing.​

 

[RIP Carlyle Rausgeber]

Objective: Compliance Action.
Post: I
Location: Rehl Prime, Orbit. FIV Malice.

"Admiral," The Helmsman called, "We have arrived." The officer reported. Carlyle strode across the crisp, clean command deck of the Malice's phrik lined bridge. The admiral gazed down at the planet of Rehl Prime, future system to be liberated by the First Orders justice. The waste of their society, would be ended by the cold, calculated autocratic government the Order would gift them.

"Prepare a communique to the military officers aboard," Carlyle began, his voice sharp as a whip, "Our detachments barges are to begin disembarking," He ordered, "I want us moving to low orbit." He barked, "Fear, fear will drive them out, and make them easier targets."

"Understood admiral," General Lucien Montague, Carlyle's army adjunct reported, "It will be done." The former One Sith officer affirmed, before marching briskly out of the bridge.

The Helmsman saluted, "Moving to sector, four five, seven Admiral." The officer replied.

"All TIE's are away sir," The TIE Operations officer reported, "They're patching themselves into ground comms."

Carlyle continued to the fore of the bridge, watching as TIE fighters began to strafe aft, warming up for the almost inevitable need for bombing runs, and fire support. "Alert High Command," Carlyle reported, "We have arrived."

 

[Garett Van]

Location: The Scar​

​

Men were yelling on all sides of the Colonel, the sound of artillery and gun fire screamed through the air. Machineguns sounded like the rattattat as they unloaded towards the Accord's trench line. Looking to his left and right young men hugged the walls of their trench, fear on all of their faces. Remic High Command had ordered an offensive in this sector of the war, so like a good soldier Jurgen obliged. Looking at his pocket watch as the time came closer and closer near for him to sound the whistle for the assault. A few planes few over head of the men in the trench, as few well wishes to the pilots could be heard slightly over all the noise. Time ticked closer and closer now, what would be a few seconds seemed like an eternity to everyone who was prepared for this assault. Most wouldn't make it to the enemy trench if they ever made it that far. It was time, Jurgen blew the whistle and the troops around him poured over the top of the trench yelling and screaming, knives at the ends of their rifles. The Artillery fire silenced as the men made their way through no man's land. Then the return fire from the Fermic Republic forces started their machine guns opening up into the exposed men charging their line. This was the brutal nature of their world, forever war, and forever a grudge between the two alliances. The officers in charge of the units out in no man's land ordered their retreats, suicide missions weren't what the Remics were known for, if the fortifications were too strong they would find another way around. The small number of survivors started to trickle back into the trench, Jurgen looked through his periscope to see the damage inflicted to his unit.​

 

[Julius Thonn]

Rehl - Objective Three: The Imperial Mission:
Shuttle down to the planet.
Post One.

Julius sat within the passenger bay of the First Order shuttle that dropped down to the planet below. Within the ship were at least three dozen people. A squad of Imperial stormtroopers, the rest medics, or whatever hospital oriented group. Julius didn't pay much attention to them, but the Disciple of Ren had, uh, acquired the needed uniform to get on the shuttle.

Back home, even if he took and hurt those that were better off than him and his 'people,' he had always given back to his parents. Anonymously, and had made sure to support his friends, and their families too. Especially if they were out at all hours of the night, and even during the day.

Julius may have been a lone wolf once, still was, but he thought it for the best to help people.

Especially those that didn't know better.

"Landing in five."

They were entering the atmosphere now from the looks of the world outside the viewport.

I don't even know what I'm doing here.

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Gilaria: Objective 4
Post: 1/25

Even though Star Tours' big project these days was to rebuild the spaceports destroyed by the Primeval to the galactic north, Dunames knew that any new operation in First Order space will have to be limited in scope. Little did Dunames know was that the Great Tsu Starport was a little... seedy for some reason, or so she was told. The scope of her job was pretty limited: mostly one to bring the spaceport's infrastructure up to First Order standards, especially when it comes to flooding or hurricane protection. It would also appear that the need for construction materials is mounting as the re-settling occurs in stages. As is always the case here, she insists on doing the landing sequence herself, using the very Tofolk of Hijarna she used on, well, Hijarna. Obviously it did not suffer the same kind of damage as was the case on Hijarna or even the planets whose spaceports were destroyed by the Primeval, according to what datafiles were available.

"Better stay low-key here: maybe we can provide some cover for the FOSB once we arrive planetside"

"Landing sequence initiated" Merrily reported.

 

[Julius Thonn]

Rehl Prime: Objective Three, the Imperial Mission.
Post Two.
Disembarking some Distance from City.

"We've got some speeders on board," someone said. "We'll split into three groups of four. The rest will stay here in case anyone needs help."

Julius looked about, and then they were being randomly thrown into their groups.

The team leader looked over his trio of followers, focusing on Julius himself for only a moment.

"Let's go," he said, before starting the speeder, and then they took off into the underbrush.

For a moment, the Disciple of Ren thought he was discovered as not being apart of the actual operation. But even if he was, he had learned a few things in the Ren Library. He was sure he could mind trick one or two people at the same time if necessary. The speeder was fast, and soon enough their head operative was talking about how they'd get there quickly. Their mission was to render aid, while other groups purpose was to discern why the planet was war torn.

Simple enough.

Guess we're going to a battlefield.

 

[Zef Halo]

GILARIA
GIZKA OBJECTIVE
1/20

Information was the most expensive commodity.

Through it Darryl had come to a profitable lead. A lead that led to a new venture. That's right. Gizka.

A Tunroth on Jiroch-Reslia had come upon the Gizka somehow and surprisingly was able to herd them. For a time that is. Until the pests became uncontrollable. He sought help by selling the Gizka at exceptionally low prices. Boom ensues.

Hence why Darryl ended up on Gilaria, at the edge of First Order space. Prices for Gizka were much, much higher for some odd reason. Perhaps the lack of supply. The conman did not know nor did he care. He had found a client who would pay a fortune for a hundred Gizka.

Perfect, right?

Well, not until your own droid malfunctions and lets the Gizka loose right at the site of where the deal was to take place. Fuming, the client ordered Darryl to bring him the hundred Gizka back if he wanted to receive the hefty sum of credits.

Armed with a low voltage electrogun that could send the Gizka to sleep, Darryl roamed the infested area to capture the little pests while cursing under his breath.

He had to get the money. He had no choice. The loan he took from a semi-legal...okay, illegal entity was large. There was no way he could go back empty handed.

Might as well start digging his own grave here otherwise.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Objective I
Alouten, Early Morning​

"No one's coming. Do it now."

He watched the undisclosed object exchange hands from his position above. The deal went off without a hitch. One of the Imperial Agents had facilitated the current situation and gone as far as to supply the contraband to make it believable. The poor bastard had practically snatched the spice out of 0772's hands. I'll be able to eat for a month with this much, if he recalled the man's thoughts correctly.

He took the credits and ran. Not literally- he wanted nothing to do with what came next, and the money would suffice in lieu of payment drom the First Order. The spice would inevitably be confiscated again anyway.

Not yet, of course.

No, now he had faces. People to follow. "0772 reporting," he spoke into a comm unit. "I have eyes on the objective. Pursuing."

"Acknowledged, 0772. Under no circumstances are you to engage alone, do you copy?" The man watched as the undesirables turned the corner and headed deeper into the city of Alouten. "0772?"

"Acknowledged," he replied finally. "Transmitting coordinates now."

He flipped the beacon online and stowed the comm in his pocket. Moving along rooftops was a simple task when they were so close together, like an ancient and underdeveloped city. Alouten was cramped, dank, and smelled foul. Their sewer systems likely saw maintenance when it became too unbearable, and not before.

The lack of funding meant living conditions rarely improved. When the money did come in, it came from characters who used their position to sway where it flowed and what it changed. Nothing got done, and crime continued to flourish unchecked.

That was what brought them here to begin with.

0772 moved quickly and watched them below, his dark robes flowing behind him as he went. Armed with only a blaster, he looked more like a vagabond than a Disciple of Ren.

FOSB had maintained that appearances were everything. 0772 despaired that it was not regulation, but if it aligned with the will of Seiger Ren...

"For the Supreme Leader," he reminded himself as they turned again, weaving through the labyrinthine city like rats in a cage.

 

[Garett Van]

Objective: Compliance Action.​

Post: 1​

Location: Rehl Prime​

​

Landing down on the planet, alone as usual the scout trooper would hear the sound of distant gun fire. Taking off towards the sounds of war, and discarding her helmet on the way. She had read up on the native populace here on the planet, and upon learning they were primitive she felt that her armor would just weigh her down. As she got closer and closer to the fighting she could hear the sounds of bullets wiz past her. She just sported a grin and continued to move in. Cresting the ridge in front of her she found herself at what the natives called the Scar, the trench systems, and the tracers going towards each side, it was glorious. As zero started to move down towards the trenches closer and closer, she could hear the yelling of soldiers. What she couldn't understand is they were screaming about her and how they all noticed her.​

​

Once close enough she went to a knee, and just started to watch, however what she didn't know is that the Remic Empire was moving a sniper around on her position. As she watched the fighting, she hears the snap of a rifle, and then the heat of it hitting her, then she felt nothing, as she fell limp to the floor, being shot through the heart would end it for the trooper, sadly she would die alone just how she lived.​

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Gilaria: Objective 4
Post: 2/25

Obviously the damage sustained by the Great Tsu Starport was much more consistent with flooding than any other type of calamity that could befall the spaceport, so the spaceport of the impoverished city could use a little repair work. Also, even though she knew that the municipal authorities were... corrupt, she decided to survey the damage first. No sense in making major repairs without first notifying the municipal operators of the place. Or perhaps even taking the spaceport off their hands if that as necessary. But Star Tours would not commence operations to Gilaria without first getting the spaceport back in order, nor would the First Order be satisfied with the spaceport in its current condition. Besides, even though she was associated with the grand project of rebuilding every single spaceport in Primeval space, she was still primarily a First Order figure. When the Tofolk of Hijarna landed, the building inspector swiftly disembarked with its equipment, out to survey the damage taken over the years.

"Let us survey the damage: if the damage is too great, we're out of luck" the building inspector told Dunames.

"Please do"

 

[Valessia Brentioch]

Post 1
BYOO
Gilaria

While Valessia had no diplomatic powers, it still didn't mean she couldn't represent the First Order in one form or another. "Isn't it beautiful?" She asked [member="Gunther Creed"] with a smile, as she adjusted her sundress and hat. "Primero del Sol," she gestured toward the large island sitting in the middle of the Obraiago. "Don't ask me how many favours I had to call in just to get this." Valessia slinked an arm around the colonel's waist and rested her head against his torso. The boat from Namadii sped along the crystal clear waves of the ocean as the resort island came closer into view. In truth, Valessia had finally made good on her family's name after convincing her father to sell that ridiculous luxury liner company she sank their assets into this. An island meant for relaxation and a little fun in the sun, of course, it meant some heavy negotiation even now the resort was still under construction. Today she'd meet with a few investors and architectural firms, construction companies and other business people. First on her list was meeting with the Gilarian Chairs and other representatives and it also meant having to wait for the next available First Order representative to actually negotiate terms. Then again... They didn't have to know her credentials had been, ah feth. Natasi would hear about it one way or another so she would have to do what she did on Ryoone. Reassure the locals that the arms of the First Order were the arms they needed and that the Alliance, the Outback or Coalition whatever name they were calling themselves these days were the real worrisome bunch.

 

[Alkor Centaris]

Gilaria, Alouten
Post 2

Far below, the dealers wove through back alleys and kept to the shadows. 0772 had a degree of difficulty keeping his eyes on them, but he could feel their thoughts racing, fear of watchful eyes making them ever alert. Fear was what made them predictable.

A more seasoned, trained professional would feel more confidence. They would focus their thoughts and keep them orderly. The telepath found those types less like open books and more like libraries, more complex to explore, more scope to peruse. It increased the difficulty, if only by a little.

"Slow them down," came the order from his comm. 0772 snapped his gaze downward. He waited for the order to repeat. "I said slow them down, 0772."

"Acknowledged."

Below, one of the dealers froze in his tracks. The others stopped. "Pav?" One asked, then dared a step toward him. "Pavel, come on. We need to move. We don't have time to stop."

The man shook his head. He was shaking. "Can't..." he shook his head violently. "I can't keep doing this, Uller," he said. His emotions gushed out, and tears flooded his eyes. "I can't keep selling this stuff to people. It tore apart my wife's family-"

"Snap out of it, man!" Uller slapped Pavel across the face. "It's temporary. We need the creds to rebuild Alouten, we need to bring it back to its golden age. Then we'll be fine. No more spice. You hear me? No more."

0772's eyes flickered high above as he pressed forward, asserting command of the man's amygdala, a very subtle form of control, but one that would waylay them for a good few minutes.

FOSB raid team Delta hurried into the alleyways as Uller pulled Pavel along behind them. "Quick, let's get inside. We'll talk about this later." Uller glanced in both directions before he gave a complex series of knocks on a door, and it opened.

The two dealers disappeared within.

"0772, report," the comm blared as his eyes came back into focus. "We lost them. Do you have eyes on the target?" The pale boy shook his head as he withdrew his psyche, and he lifted the comm to his lips.

"I know where they are," he replied in a measured voice. "Move forward and I'll join you momentarily." He placed the communicator back in his robes and took a step forward, over the edge of the roof.

He turned one hundred and eighty degrees as he freefell, and his hands stretched out to grab any surface as he went. They caught on a window sill and his feet dug into the wall, clambering for purchase.

He heard the sounds of an armed team as they circled the area below, and he took a deep breath. Only a few more meters, now. One more breath.

The youth's eyes closed, and his heartbeat stabilized. Excitement and adrenaline had their uses, but a level head was more important in a delicate operation. He let go once he was breathing normally.

He bent his knees to absorb the impact when he hit the dirt, and several agents backed off of him as they realized he had dropped from the sky. It never ceased to amaze them, the insanity of these registered Force Adepts.

"Ah, 0772," the voice of controller emerged from the crowd, and he picked the man out as he stepped forward from the armed fireteam. "Is this the place?"

In response, 0772 lifted a finger and pointed. The door was less than ten meters away. "There," he stated. "There were five, in all. I cannot confirm the presence of others inside."

"You've done well," the man nodded curtly. "I will issue a commendation on your behalf."

"For the Supreme Leader," 0772 intoned hollowly. He never did this for honors or recognition. He just wanted to be more than a tool for the FOSB agents.

"Once we secure this drug den, can we count on you, 0772?"

He only gave another nod.

 

[Sev'ayn'nuruodo]

Rehl Prime - Space

The Raptor-class Assault Frigate FIV Holdfast was serving as picket for the larger ship being commanded by Admiral Rausgeber. Helmed by Lieutenant Commander Sev'ayn'nuruodo, the ship was patrolling the outskirts of the system, watching for potential threads that might try to sneak into the system when it was learned that the Order had engaged. Few would be brazen enough to engage them, but as wisdom would have it, in a galaxy this large, fools were many. It was never possible to lower ones guard, even with the military might of the First Order Navy behind you. Stupidity was a trait she certainly lacked.

Vaynn stared out the viewport at the darkness of space. Many would be annoyed at such a menial task as this. Few ever truly understood the importance a loan picket ship had. Normally their ship would have been right in with the larger ships, providing support in heavy firefights, but Vaynn's specialization during her training was in recon, and so she, and her ship, were also suited to the duty they were currently assigned.

"Status," she asked calmly, fingers resting against the armrests of her chair.

"Clear in present sectors. Nothing to report."

"Relay current status to the Malice. Maintain present course and directive."

"Affirmative, ma'am."

She took a slow, deep breath, and let it out just as slowly. There was a light itch between her shoulder blades that she longed to scratch, but maintaining decorum was more important and so she ignored it. The itch, she knew, was caused by her uncomfortable feeling that they were inevitably going to face some form of danger in the near future. She had no reason, no inkling of information that the scanners were giving her, to indicate this, it was just a feeling. She rarely got those feelings and had them be wrong, but she said nothing. It would be poor form to report a threat she didn't know was there.

[member="Carlyle Rausgeber"]
[Post 1]

 

[DT-317]

Rehl Prime - Space
Post Three.

Death Trooper Three One Seven wiped the cloth over the visor of the helmet. Sure, the Death Trooper armour didn't actually require being cleaned like that, on account of the multiple polymer finishes it sported, but it was a process that he hadn't forgotten from when he had been a regular Stormtrooper Captain in the Corps. He remembered how bad it had gotten on that fateful day on Kaeshana when he and his platoon had been at the Citadel of Dawn and then suddenly...

Artillry fire rained down on them, duracrete and rock flying around them. Not only had it been dust, but also blood had caked his armour that day.

Allies and enemies alike.

Lots of friends died that day. Those under his command.

He shook out the cloth, folding it neatly before he lifted his helmet, flipping it around and then depositing it atop his shoulders. On the underside of the brim of his helmet, it locked in to the bodysuit underneath, light itself practically warping around the suit as he rose to his full height, helmet mere inches away from the ceiling.

"Carnage Squad," he said as the helmet identified his voice and came to life. The HUD brightening as he stepped out of his quarters. "Rendezvous on the shuttle." he said. They weren't with him, not in physical form, and they were likely paired off in other places on the Holdfast, at that very moment. In response, he got multiple clicks and other robotic sounds and then he muted the line from his end so that he could still har them, but they couldn't hear his.

Let's go see what's going on, on the Bridge.

[member="Sev'ayn'nuruodo"]

 

[RIP Carlyle Rausgeber]

Objective: Compliance Action.
Post: II
Location: Rehl Prime, Orbit. FIV Malice.
Allies: [member="DT-317"] | [member="Sev'ayn'nuruodo"] | [member="Julius Thonn"]

Carlyle eyed the Holdfast on the holographic interface, "I think what is neccessary," Carlyle began, "Is a show of definitive force. Why should our troops be endangered, when we can show these degenerates, true power." Carlyle turned back to the crew, and eyed them for opinions. The crew remained quiet. "Well?"

"Orbital bombardments admiral are not allowed." The Chief Gunnery Officer reported, "We'd be disallowed any attempts to subjugate the savages that way."

"I didn't mean that," Carlyle snapped, "What I am thinking, is we deploy our ships into low orbit, and show these armies our might." He turned back to the wider bridge, "Scanning, are there any weather anomalies we should be aware of."

The Scanning Officer nodded, acknowledging the order, and diving into the terminal, examining the planet for any, and all disturbances in the stratosphere. "We have one large storm in the southern hemisphere, it's a bit hard to gauge its intensity, but given our intelligence on weather here, it won't hold us back."

"Good, good." Carlyle replied, "Order us to move towards the surface, and above their settlements," Carlyle began, "We shall blot out the sun, and show these heathens true order."

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Gilaria: Objective 4
Post: 3/25

"Boss, the Great Tsu Starport appears to have taken flooding damage but it appears otherwise workable. However, the tarmac appears to be in such poor condition it would need to be entirely rebuilt" the building inspector reported.

"Any estimate on the amount of duracrete necessary to repair the damage?"

"About 30-40,000 cubic meters"

Poodoo. That was going to be a much larger reconstruction operation than I first expected. Better get the list of required construction materials compiled first: this year has been rough on our infrastructure budget and I cannot expect the First Order to reimburse us for Kaeshana, Rakata Beta or even Gilaria, she thought, while she remembered the earful she got from the comptroller assigned to the Primeval region over rebuilding the destroyed spaceports of Primeval-land. Someone had to do it, beyond Muunilinst, Mygeeto and Cademimu. Yet there were plenty of locations where disasters occured that did not get their spaceports rebuilt: Contruum, Togoria, where the entity the smuggling world called the 0 Sith when Star Tours began operations destroyed the cityscapes on a grand scale - Star Tours couldn't be everywhere at once. And Contruum, Togoria were just the tip of the iceberg of Sith-induced disasters.

"This project... it is going to eat more of our budget than the last spaceport we attempted to rebuild in Primeval-land, on Gravlex Med"

 

[Sev'ayn'nuruodo]

Rehl Prime - Space

She'd expected to receive some sort of order, but it seemed the admiral was fine with what the Holdfast was doing at the moment. Knowing better than to question orders, she continued to have the ship press forward in its patrol of the systems edge. Though she doubted that anyone would have the audacity to push in and attack a force of the First Order so audaciously, she'd known people to be more brazen than that out near Ascendancy space. No, she refused to be caught off guard, which was why she half the ships weapons powered to full just in case they were needed, and shields were at maximum in order to keep them steady for what may, or may not, come their way.

They did have a crew of soldiers, aboard, but it surprised her when one of them appeared on the bridge. Red eyes turned to watch him as he stepped within. It was not customary to see them on the bridge of a ship unless they were taking it over.

"What is it you need?" she asked of him.

[member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] | [member="DT-317"]
[Post 2]

 

[Mishel Kryze]

Gilaria
BYOO
Post 2

"I feel something here," Mishel remarked as they disembarked her freighter at Great Tsu Spaceport. Mild flooding, which for the locals was nothing new but for her. "And now my robes are wet, these are brand new robes," she complained to [member="Kaalia Voldaren"] and then sighed. "Maybe we should have gone to Rehl Prime first."

Rehl Prime was off the list for a reason, the world was not only pre-hyperdrive but also in the middle of war. First Order military was already handling it but there was something there too, but it was darker and darker was not what she wanted to seek. Not now anyway, what she sought now was something good and something called to her from here. She couldn't quite place it, but it was unique as she waded through the knee-deep waters of the spaceport. Walking alongside the Gilarians who put their baskets and crates above their heads, hydropulse droids also made their way around. "Don't suppose we could get one of those for the summer? I hear Coveway will be opening the beach soon."

The Great Tsu rested in Alouten, perhaps one of the most diverse cities on Gilaria and it was large, undoubtedly large and it was an island. A vast island sitting in the middle of the sea and all that Mishel could see from up here was the sea. "Wow..." Her mouth trailed off, "this is beautiful Sister, you must see this." And then she looked down at her feet and gave a worrisome look. "Perhaps we should have my hoverchair brought out to the hotel." And as a second thought added, "do you think perhaps our brothers and sisters may yet still join us?"

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Gilaria
BYOO
Post 1

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Kyrel sat on board the shuttle, his thoughts were of that of pure hatred, and rage. He had recently acquired Lord Vader's Armor from the Dark Lord's Castle weeks after the Battle of Mustafar, he felt a tremendous wave of emotions flood through him wearing the armor and had often heard distant voices from times speak through him as they were but of the past such as an old man speaking his raspy voice echoing in his mind. "This fixation that you have My Apprentice is still a part of you that is still Skywalker, you must destroy it for only Vader lives." Other times he could hear a voice crying out in terror, a damaged voice but what he did hear was this. "No wait come back!!" He could still receive these memory flashes of Vader, it was as if he had never left the armor as all he had felt was rage, sadness, regret, and loss. He had thought if this what Vader would often feel, and so used this memory flashes to learn more about the dark lord's life even if it was only for a little while.

He sat across from the still wounded [member="Mishel Ren"] the abomination he called her, and her companion [member="Kaalia Voldaren"]. He felt some slight sympathy as he was now starting to learn to work more with his Brothers and Sisters setting aside his lust for power aside, and wish to see the Ren grow, despite his hatred of the girl he admitted at times he was fond of her at some points even if her naive outlook on life annoyed him. Still, the rasp of his breathing disrupted his thoughts at times, even sitting was uncomfortable sometimes despite the modifications Moff Teigra did to the original design he could still feel discomfort due to the way he moved, and the pain he felt at times which fed his constant rage. He even sounded different and thought with surprise. 'Did Lord Vader really sound like this.' As now every time he spoke it was cold and commanding baritone that oozed intimidation and fear, as well as mixing in with his breathing and overall appearance. The way he looked at things was different. As when he saw things everything looked to be in a red hue, with data of all types being fed to him, of course, however, this was adjusted due to his environment but it was all so surreal nonetheless.

He sat on the shuttle, not making a sound and went into meditation focusing on the dark side to feed his strength. He then waited for the shuttle to land at the spaceport on Aloutan. His mission was to destroy a Black Market group of pirates who had been raiding shipping lanes for months getting weapons from the First Order that the troops on the frontlines so desperately needed. This had earned the ire of the Supreme Leader and so dispatched Kyrel to eliminate them. Kyrel had no idea what his Sisters were here for, and so for the moment decided to stick with them. When he had heard Mishel complain about getting wet, he scoffed and said coldly slowly stepping forward, his walk made him look as if he was death himself, and his armor weave cape reflected such atmosphere by flowing elegantly with the wind. "I assure you Sister there are far worse things than getting wet, now come let us find shelter. We have no time to waste, and I have come here on a mission of my own."

 

[DT-317]

Rehl Prime - Space
Post Four.

The Death Trooper came upon the Bridge. The crew that he had encountered on the way there had gotten out the way of the seven foot tall soldier. Hefted blaster rifle placed on magnetic pads on his back to hold it in place as he carried himself through the automatic blast doors that separated Command Deck from Corridor.

"Carnage Squad expects danger." Better to refer to the whole squad rather than just the other handful of other troopers.

"Details on current situation."

The presence of Death Troopers certainly unnerved most, especially due to their rarity anywhere that wasn't the battlefield. Outwardly, there were no markings to designate the rank of the newly vetted Special Forces Trooper, but the Death Trooper had no illusion that a Lieutenant had no command over him.

[member="Sev'ayn'nuruodo"], [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"]