What're You Doing In My Swamp? | First Order Invasion of Galactic Alliance Held Dagobah Hex

[Mathieu Bahreiko]

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Allies: @Mazik Stanzi, [member="Gir Quee"], [member="Cathul Thuku"], [member="Tristram Vos"], [member="Aedan Miles"], [member="Qymaen sil Jurai"], Galactic Alliance, CIS​

Enemies: [member="Sieger Ren"], [member="Robogeber"], [member="Cyrus Tregessar"], First Order, Galactic Empire remnants​

Location: High Orbit over Dagobah, ​

Objective: Oversee GA and Allied Fleet Movements, Defend Orbit​

"I don't like this." The veteran Atrisian admiral looked at her aid with a flat stare. For her part, the younger woman looked mollified by the gaze and seemed to collect herself. They were not the only ones on the bridge, but for the moment they were alone to discuss matters. Much like she had once been something of a protégé to someone many years ago, Admiral Nai had taken it upon herself to pass along her knowledge and lessons to another. While her intended successor was not yet the most confident leader, she had a certain knack for numbers and logistics. That was one of the strengths of the Galactic Alliance, in her mind; not that they passed along their knowledge to the next generation, everyone did that, but that they did so with an open heart and mind to who might succeed them.

"Communication with our ground forces remains patchy, even with the signal boosters in place." Damn the atmospheric interference... Getting ships to and from the surface was a decidedly hazardous affair, and had to be done carefully. "Operations continue unabated. however. Most of our speeders and dropships have been modified to handle the swamp, but I'm worried about their long-term performance." More than once, and more than she would care for, Admiral Nai had to call for rescure operations to save personnel that had crashed due to electronic interference. That alone had made her less-than-thrilled with the situation. There was however a more pressing and ominous reason for her dour mood.

There was no chance the First Order was not coming.

After the disastrous attack in L-49, Alliance forces had been falling back to Vero to regroup. Dagobah had not be abandoned, due in part to the presence of the Galactic Empire, but as well to give them a chance for a holding action. Much like they were doing at Vero, Admiral Nai expected that the First Order would be consolidating their hold on the region. With the loss there, two of the three major hyperlanes that kept their most rimward regions supplied had now been seized by the First Order. The Corellian Trade Spine had been one of the first major hyperlanes to have been taken by the First Order, taken quite some time ago. Now with the collapse of GA traffic through the Hydian Way, all that was left was for them to use the Rimma Trade Route. And even that hyperlane was not an ideal one. They were still looking at added days, weeks in some cases, for supplies to get to the holdings in the rim.

Their hold beyond Dagobah was balanced on a knife's edge. If they were forced out of Dagobah, the First Order's stranglehold would ensure that the rimward regions fell. What was equally troublesome, such a grip would make travel and collaboration between the Alliance and the Outer Rim Coalition strained as well. She had ordered the evacuation of critical personnel and artifacts of interest from the region in preparation for the expected attack by the First Order. That was underway, but there was no telling how much would be completed before the attack came. All she could hope was that the evacuation efforts would have the time they needed.

In her mind, Admiral Nai was already beginning to build an image of the coming battle. The First Order would send out a smaller force, test the waters. Surprise had served them well at L-49, but that surprise was now gone. As close as they were to Eriadu and Sullust, they would not risk a prolonged engagement. If they pushed their whole force to Dagobah, they ran the risk of stranding themselves and leaving the rear to assault. No, it would be a comparatively small force; unfortunately, due to Dagobah's relative unimportance, that was likely all that was necessary.

So the First Order would arrive. Standard exchages would occur; down with the corrupt Alliance, die tryanical First Order. Planetary invasion forces would be launched. The Alliance had two prefabricated garrisons online, as the token garrison built was not equipped to deal with the swelling of Alliance and allied personnel. The First Order ships would attempt to engage at range before closing in. The First Order's objective would be to destroy the Alliance stations in orbit and pushing their fleet out of the system. While such a loss would not guarantee a loss for the Galactic Alliance, they would be forced to bring in reinforcements from Eriadu and Sullust to ensure a besieged surface did not fall. As long as those bases stood, they had a staging ground.

Then it happened; sensors picked up the arrival of several First Order ships; a cruiser and several corvettes were the heralds of the coming First Order. It was interesting to her that the First Order did not execute a coordinated jump. That either spoke to their arrogance, or their eagerness to push forward. In either case, this was the start of it. More would come, of that she was certain. That simply meant they had to focus fire now and seek to eliminate the present threat before more First Order ships arrived.

"Sound general quarters, set condition one through-out the fleet." Admiral Nai shook her head. It was time for business then. "Contact UNICOM on the ground, tell them the first elements of the First Order are on approach and have them launch speeders to intercept. We'll target the lead cruiser. Have our escorts handle theirs. Keep the stations and the planet to our back; if they want to try something funny, they'll have to move through them." The activity on the bridge surged as crew began communicating with other ships and forces on the ground. "No one in the fleet is to break orbit to pursue First Order vessels."

The Noble-class lumbered forward, cannons slowly whirling to life now that they had a target. As this was the start of the engagement, she wished to test the enemy's defenses and reaction. For now, the order to fire the main cannons was held. Instead, several projectors began to glow a soft blue as magnetic fields were spun and coiled as ions and plasma were released and contained. Pressure built until it could be held no longer and several small volleys of energy torpedos flashed towards the Predator-class; a trio of light blue balls of energy with a brighter blue sphere in the center. The stations began to fire on the transports as they attempted to reach the surface, and several squadrons of fighters were deployed to intercept them. However, the focus was on the First Order ships, and the ones still to come.

Galactic Alliance 9th Fleet, Defense Flotilla Azure Star

Spoiler

Name: GAV Say My Name
Class: Noble-class Star Defender
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Target: FIV Allegiance

Name: GAV Unto the Breach
Class: Horn-class Escort Cruiser
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Target: FIV Bravery

Name: GAV Once More
Class: Horn-class Escort Cruiser
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Target: FIV Stamina

 

[Kyrel Ren]

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Enemies: Galactic Alliance​

Allies: First Order [member="Varas Kyrel"] [member="Therran Graush"]​

Equipment: Armor of the Enforcer, Vader's Bane Lightsaber, Zark's Second Lightsaber, Gloria Blaster Pistol​

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It had only been a short time since the Supreme Leader's fleet had successfully crushed the Galactic Alliance fleet, destroyed a flagship and was now in the process of blockading the Hydian Way, and still, Kyrel was reeling from it all. In that battle not only was he bolstered in battle by [member="Samka Derith"] but by Supreme Leader [member="Sieger Ren"] but his personal quest for revenge had also been sated with the death of Jedi Master and Vice Admiral of the alliance [member="Zark"] which he had only discovered earlier through the First Order's files on Alliance High Command. His daughter had just tried to kill him. She tried to attack him from behind to which he responded consumed by anger by cleaving her weapon hand in two. Zark's body had also disappeared as if he was only an illusion. Accompanied by his Mother's ghost reaching to him and allowing the light to somehow affect him was something of a surprise and an utter shock. ​

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He had contemplated it all as both himself and his daughter who had passed out from the pain had just lied there in the pod drifting in the aftermath of a battle. After getting picked up by the FIV Allegiance only an hour after the fleet had pushed forward, Kyrel had spent the majority of his time in his quarters reflecting on the battle with so many questions. Why did the Jedi Master just vanish and why did his daughter just attempt to murder him? He kept in the dark, his battle damaged robes were replaced slowly with his now new armor, now just putting his dark cloak over the heavy armor, and the hood raised Kyrel looked around getting adjusting to the finally finished armor. "This will do." He said through the metallic tone of his mask hiding the cold Core World accent​

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Kyrel gazed at the new weapons he had acquired, a lightsaber to which he could feel the light side of the Force attempt to call him. He felt disgusted by it and very much afraid of what it could do. Of what it promised hope, salvation, peace. He knew these were all lies. This was all that there was. There was no going back and he knew that from the first moment he rose from that operating table stuck in a living hell. He had acquired it from the dead Jedi unfortunately who couldn't touch the saber the man wielded as it was unstable when he tried to lay a finger on it. The second weapon he had gained from whatever was left was a blaster pistol, both weapons were attached to his belt along with Vader's Bane with Kyrel making a mental note to himself to bleed the Lightsaber crystal for a lightsaber worthy of the dark warrior to wield. ​

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He had emerged from his quarters covered in what he had now called the Armor of the Enforcer. Walking to the Medbay to see his daughter and to perhaps give her a taste of his wrath as taking her hand was not enough. He had walked in seeing many wounded First Imperials, but had paid no attention, he was here for his spawn alone. She lied unconscious from the pain his face expressionless through his mask. Slowly a medical droid had approached him "My lord the prosthetic is ready I would ask for the operation go smoothly to place her with an anesthetic." Kyrel sneered at the droid and spoke, the metallic tone could not hide the venom that was in his words. "No, let the pain be a lesson to her. Begin at once." The droid if only it could act as if it was giving Kyrel a worrying look, but nodded replying with its emotionless tone. "Yes my lord as you wish." ​

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The droid with the assistance of several others had begun the process of placing cold prosthetic on the stump that was her hand, the bacta patch removed it looked as if it was already healing. The prosthetic was slowly placed into the stump, snapping with a hiss as it connected with her nerve endings which would be a painful process. After the hand was successfully placed the droid spoke once more. "My lord would you like synth flesh to be added." Kyrel reacted quickly. "No, let her bear this mark of sin than to hide it. Let her remember this failure." The droid looked unphased by his words but did not reply as it went back to work with Varas. ​

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He could only gaze out through the window as the proximity alarm blared signaling its drop from hyperspace. Dagobah a planet that had no importance to the First Order except to only the Knights of Ren. Dagobah was the source of dark side energy and knew that Grand Jedi Master Yoda had gone into exile following Palpatine's Purge, and trained Jedi Luke Skywalker. To Kyrel this was indeed significant as he knew of a dark side cave there. One to bolster his strength against the Jedi and to show the might of the Ren against the Light. He knew this cave amplified the dark side and almost felt sorry the Galactic Empire could not attain that power themselves. This is why they had come here, to save what is left of the forces on the planet below, but he had been connected with being part of a group that will go in to find a FOSB asset that was there in the battle. He knew that was his mission but what he look forward too the most was the death of more Jedi by his hand feeling confident from his murder of Zark he was ready despite feeling as if he could still hear the man's voice in his head no matter how many times he tried to block it out. He felt as if he was still there. ​

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For now, he tried not to concentrate on that as from what he had learned the Empire had launched the attack the same time as the Hydian Way. As he waited for his daughter to wake and their mission now at hand. He couldn't help how much fun this would be to face all those in his path crushed in the name of the Supreme Leader and for the peace and security of the First Order. He had hoped they could finish what the Empire could not and in fact was sure of it as the fleet was slowly emerging from Hyperspace the alarms still blaring signaling of their arrival knowing that their victory would soon be at hand. ​

 

[Kip Hollaran]

Allies: Galactic Alliance
Enemies: The First Order
Location: Somewhere above the Swamp
Equipment: U-Wing, Standard Blaster Carbine, Knife
Objective: Firsty Don't Surf
Theme


First their gunship had been taken for repairs and they'd been shoved into a U-Wing, then Kip had been informed of his family's demise, and then they'd been shoved back up into the air after the worst sleep any of them had ever gotten. Needless to say the crew of the gunship weren't thrilled with their current lot in life, but none were as out of sorts as Hollaran himself understandably.

What had they meant by family? Everyone? Just his direct family? Just his parents? They hadn't fething specified, which left Kip circling his own mind for answers, which was the last thing he needed to be doing right now, but he couldn't help it. He could either ponder, or let the misery and anger overwhelm him, only the faint hope that someone who shared his blood lived kept them at bay.

As the gunship sailed over the swamp, in a tight 'V' formation alongside several others, Kip aimlessly scanned the swamp below for Imperial stragglers. It was meant to be quiet, it was meant to be the final stages of a brief battle, and then [member="Mathieu Bahreiko"]'s alert reached them. "High fething alert people, First Order forces are inbound!" T'rago bellowed above the howl of the wind.

Kip's stomach lurched, momentary fear of another battle rising up in him before being swiftly crushed by fury. This was revenge, Sith Empire or not they were all the same to him, they were all to blame for his loss. His hands tightened around the grips of the cannon as Amber Squadron's U-Wing's banked off of their current course and prepared to strike wherever the First Order dared land.

 

[Aryn Teth]

Aryn Teth

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Fort Nemo, Dagobah, Sluis Sector, The Outer Rim Territories​

Objective: Organize the FOB's defence and ground movements​

Allies: The Galactic Alliance and their Allies, [member="Srina Talon"], [member="Allyson Locke"], [member="Jyoti Nooran"], [member="Jerit Kolomor"]​

Enemies: The First Order, Leftover Imperials​

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Aryn was tired. In fact, tired was an understatement, it could not have been more of an understatement if it tried for exhaustion. Since the Imperial fleet had retreated from the Dagobah system or been destroyed in orbit, it had primarily become a cleanup operation on the planet's surface as the Alliance processed its prisoners and sent them offworld, clearing out the last few holdouts throughout the swamp. Of course, lacking the leadership of the former Supreme Commander, or the man who had previously been in charge of Dagobah's ground operations, Aryn had been left with a battlefield promotion to the position of Supreme Commander, dropped down to the primary FOB set up by the Alliance and given intelligence briefing after intelligence briefing to prepare him for his new position, all while leaving him to delegate and command the still-ongoing operations planetside.

Luckily the Alliance's allies had been a great help to the Alliance, helping to run patrols through the swamps and clear out Imperial positions while their naval forces worked on clearing the system of debris and searching for escape pods and leftover craft which had not been destroyed or retreated in orbit. The presence of many of their allies, including the woman who had become a confidant of sorts for the Alliance's new Supreme Commander, [member="Srina Talon"], was appreciated, especially when she was doing just as much work delegating the Confederacy as he was with the Alliance.

Poring over yet another map table, Aryn sighed as he scanned the patrol routes that the most recent groups had taken. A few more positions held by Imperials had been found, primarily by the longer-distance patrols, but the monotony of sending groups out on patrol again and again was starting to grain at his mind as he glanced over towards Srina, adjusting his collar as the humidity had started to bother him. "You would think at this point they might just give up and come to surrender." He'd grumble, sighing and shaking his head.

Glancing back down to the map, Aryn brought up the communicator he'd been using to give orders to the patrols, getting in touch with one of the closer groups. "Mynock Patrol, what's your status? Once you finish your search around the cave, start coming back to base, you've been out there a while, time to get some rest." He paused for a moment to allow [member="Allyson Locke"] or any of her squad-mates to respond before he lowered his communicator again, finally stepping away from the map table to move to the communications bay in the command tent, glancing over the shoulder of the officer sitting there as chatter and text between the Alliance forces throughout the system flashed up on the screens and sounded through speakers.

It was at that point that Admiral Nai's communique came through, echoing through the command tent as silence permeated through the air for a moment. There was a stillness, and a palpable tension between all the offices within the tent as they absorbed what had been said by the Admiral in orbit, before immediately everyone burst into action. Aryn was shouting orders in seconds, knowing that the lower ranking officers would immediately get to enacting them. All nearby patrols were to return to the FOB and prepare for combat, CAS was to deploy and locate any First Order troops when they hit the ground, or to take out their shuttles before they could even land.

Outside, those in the FOB had burst to action, dashing to defensive positions and briefing squads for combat operations while Aryn moved back to the map table, looking over it as if he expected it to tell him exactly where the First Order attackers would be coming from. The FOB housed the primary forces of the Alliance on Dagobah, along with evac craft and crucial personnel, it would be a likely target for the First Order, but certainly not an easy one. Aryn knew the stakes that came with Dagobah, the Alliance had already gotten to work on expanding their territory, on developing new trade routes to replace the Hydian way and mitigate the damage the first order was inflicting.

They just had to hold long enough to see those plans to fruition.

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Location: Dagobah high orbit
Allies: [member="Qymaen sil Jurai"] [member="Mazik Stazi"] [member="Mathieu Bahreiko"] [member="Lokthra Dawning"] [member="Gir Quee"] [member="Tristram Vos"]
Enemies: FO [member="The Major"] [member="Cyrus Tregessar"] [member="Sieger Ren"]
Directly engaging: [member="Robogeber"]

"First Order ships detected!" the sensor technician screamed when [member="Robogeber"]'s ships reverted into realspace.

"Please, I'm not sure what to make out of this... enemy recklessness" Carmen commented, puzzled as to why the First Order would attack so quickly after the battle in the Metharian Nebula, especially after the losses sustained in the Nebula by both sides.

"May the valiant sacrifice of the Incandescent Truth not be in vain! Battle stations! Load cluster missiles in all squadrons that can have them!" She then turned to the communications console. "Open a channel to all nearby friendly units"

"Channel open!" the communications officer acknowledged, after tuning into the FLEETCOM frequencies.

"No one in the fleet is to break orbit to pursue First Order vessels."

"The First Order is once again on the offensive! For far too long has the First Order been a threat to galactic security, and L-49 proved to all of us that they're even willing to blockade the super-hyperlanes! Silvers, Confederates, Alliance, we shall all make our stand here, while keeping defensive formations in orbit over the swamp! Lux vult! The Metharian Nebula shall be avenged, and we shall make them pay for every meter they gain in the swamp!" she screamed inside the communications console, knowing that [member="Lokthra Dawning"], alongside [member="Mazik Stazi"], [member="Gir Quee"] and even [member="Aedan Miles"] or [member="Qymaen sil Jurai"] would be able to hear her on the FLEETCOM frequency, since their allies were given access to the encrypted FLEETCOM frequencies, to say nothing of [member="Tristram Vos"], [member="Mathieu Bahreiko"] or any other asset in-system. That, even though it was a rather standard reaction to make at this point. She had another channel open that is specific to Lokthra. "Lokthra, when I signed the accord with Dagobah Shipyards, I sponsored you because I believed you could actually be redeemed as an officer. Just don't let the Dagobah residents down in defense of your turf! Protect the shipyards at any costs!"

As part of the contract she signed with Dagobah Shipyards, she was to render assistance in its reconstruction, while the convoy containing prefabricated components for the drydocks that were destroyed in the initial attack were being shipped in. With the First Order threat looming large since the events of the Metharian Nebula, she knew there had to be some security detail assigned to rebuilding the place. Oh, I know I mustn't let the superintendent of the shipyard down: however, I hope the replacement of Nemo Ven will actually be better than Nemo has been - and that it would believe in me much as Nemo had, she thought, while shaking at the thought that Nai may potentially be just more of the same as Nemo was. But also shaking at the thought that the First Order may once again be on the move. When the first confirmed First Order contacts reverted to realspace, within long-range turbolaser range of those shipyards. Hopefully the superintendent of the shipyards at the time of the first Dagobah attack will actually have some competence in a battlefleet command; she can still terminate her sponsorship of that officer if she disproved her previous assumption. After all those engagements against the First Order, she knew that cohesion was key to their success, and hopefully there would be more cohesion this time around, more communications between each commander being part of the main changes in the protocol. The only reason why Thyferra fell was because of how the local population sold out the planet to the Sith in a wave of fire-induced panic - however much she would like to prevent that sort of things, she knew that she had no control over that aspect of the local populations, despite any goodwill she might have.

"Fire for effect at the Allegiance; it must not be allowed to close in on us! Also Chiloon-I squadrons, harass the Allegiance from long range in loose formation and then return to the fleet!"

"They might have had the element of surprise in the Metharian Nebula, they won't have it anymore, especially not since the GE attacked Dagobah recently"

"By the Force... I hope that Tanith is safe out there. No matter: even in the swamp, we shall make the First Order pay for this trespass! However, watch out for the enemy reinforcements! Like the Ziggurat"

The big problem with cluster missiles being that there were only two of them that could be mounted in each Chiloon-I fighter. The two Chiloon-I squadrons, flying under the cover of long-range justice meted out to the cruiser under the form of the common long-range implements and, of course, heavy long-range solar ionization cannons, were able to get to within standard turbolaser range of the Allegiance, launch those cluster missiles, and Cathul watched with amusement the two squadrons flying in a loose formation as the cluster missiles gave way in a volley of smaller proton torpedoes as they split up, dangerously close to their intended target, with the understanding that the enemy only deployed its vanguard at this point. So many submunitions... and, since the enemy vanguard was coming under heavy fire, the ball was now in the enemy's court. After the Metharian Nebula, there's no telling as to whether or not the enemy will still target me as they had in the earlier conflicts. Especially not when there are much bigger and juicier targets than the Lothal! But I know that, just because I'm a smaller target, doesn't mean I'm less of a priority target, she thought, while making a set of possible plans depending on whether or not the enemy is firing at her, when her amusement switched to confusion. And also, depending on what those reinforcements are, and who is in command, knowing that, wherever Robogeber is, Cyrus is, more often than not, not far behind. So she definitely had to plan for [member="Cyrus Tregessar"]'s arrival in-system, and her memories of her fights against Cyrus are, well, mixed, and so she passes through a wide range of facial expressions as she formulated those plans that depended on sketchy intelligence and hence would not only be short-lived, but also difficult to rely on. And yet, that was her prerogative.

Spoiler: Summary of actions

• Fired at the Allegiance at long range
• Had two squadrons move within standard turbolaser range of the Allegiance and then fire cluster missiles at it

Spoiler: Fleet

Capital ships:

ANS Lothal (Lothal-II-class artillery carrier) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: FIV Allegiance (long-range only)
ANS Locus of Control (C-9980-class frigate) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: FIV Allegiance (long-range only)
ANS Big Seven (C-9980-class frigate) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: FIV Allegiance (long-range only)

Attack craft:

24 Chiloon-I fighters
24 Chiloon-II fast bombers

 

[Taeli Raaf]

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Location: Fort Nemo, Dagobah System
Objective: Support the defense of the FOB, be a calm head in these troubled times
Allies: [member="Aryn Teth"] [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Allyson Locke"] [member="Jyoti Nooran"] [member="Jerit Kolomor"]
Enemies: The First Order (no specific yet)

Equipment: In signature

Admiral Nai's transmission was, admittedly, not the news Taeli would have liked to hear. But of course, the First Order just had to come to Dagobah. The Empire had just failed to cut off the last Alliance position to the Rimward worlds, but it was quite clear the First Order was desiring that very scenario. Lovely, simply lovely. This position would be a target, certainly, but she was quite sure the Knights of Ren would be going for yet another significant site on the world. Even the thought of that... order made her skin crawl.

"Well," she said, looking over at the new de facto Supreme Commander, "you did say you were getting bored rooting out the remaining Imperials."

They didn't have numbers yet, but knowing the First Order... it was going to take a combined effort of the Allied forces to beat them back. Hopefully. Reaching out with the Force, she brushed the mind of [member="Coren Starchaser"]. She had a feeling the Sentinel was going to be... overly excited.

'I hope you got those defenses in place,' she said, mentally projecting the words to Starchaser. 'First Order has arrived, and I suspect the Knights of Ren will be making a beeline for the cave.'

Keeping the link in her mind open for his response, she joined Aryn at the map table. Something told her though... she wasn't going to be staying in this room for long.

 

[Mishel Kryze]

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We do have some Jedi business to tend to in the swamps...

"Jedi?" Mishel questioned a moment and squared her shoulders up - now that she was in some way at least a member of a Jedi Order, "yeah, of course." Although they didn't exactly give her a badge when she joined. The young padawan turned her gaze outward to the wilds of Dagobah, a rather unforgiving place to start with and if that pull of the darkside was what she felt it was. Then it wasn't a great spot to be in for newly turned darksider, the lure was great - but the swamps were the Sullustan Jedi had told her there would be "business." Dancing around in the swamps sounded like a better idea than standing idle waiting for the Netherworld to crush you out of boredom. Still, she looked over between the swamps and the direction of the pull, the pull of the darkside.

Patience, young padawan.

Words she had heard from either the Neti, the Mandalorian or her own mentor. When she looked again the Sullustan had wandered off, "so... this is what that feels like." The girl motioned with her hand. Trying best to articulate what her former master Samka Derith must have felt each time the girl ran off on her own. Typical padawan... Someone mentioned as she had left Utapau, always running off, but you will soon learn the wisdom of staying at your master's side, no? No. Not yet, not until she found the crystal she was after. "Better pack up before heading out," and just as the words left her mouth she heard the base alarms, "great time to take a pit stop." Mishel cursed under her breath as she double-timed it into the base.

"I just need a personal shield, med stims, and this," she grabbed a vibrodagger and strapped it around her ankle, set personal shield on her belt facing it toward the back left. Shoved a hand full of medstims into a pouch and called it good. The last thing she grabbed was a backpack made for the scouts, she slipped it on and headed out of the base dusting off the ORC emblem on the blue jacket. Mishel overheard that the First Order was on its way, which meant that the Knights of Ren were no doubt coming along for the ride.

"Awkward..." The teenager whispered as she slipped back out of the base, or as she liked to call it now, Fort Lost in the Swamp.

Not caring for which direction she went in, the brunette headed off base.

You abandoned your duties and your family.

She knew what they would say.

She also no longer cared.

I was always meant for more, to do more than serve 'Father.'

Mishel stopped in her tracks, she had only made it a click, click and a half at best from the base. Let go of which you are afraid to lose, yeah, yeah - just... Another exhale. Her stomach churned with emotion, fear is the path to the darkside, fear leads to anger, anger leads to hate and hate leads to suffering, yada yada yada... Her gaze narrowed as she looked over to where the darkside called to her. Through the force she knew it beckoned her, as it did to all darksiders. A haunting place to most others she imagined, and yet she knew her brethern would make haste for the caves. Others may hold to the swamp, but the cave would certainly be on the list - as well as the nexus. That too was hard to ignore, most especially for the impulsive padawan and so now the choice laid at her feet.

She shook her head and kicked at the dirt, the swamp rolled fog would lap at her ankles, the brush and the canopy of Dagobah were at peace. Even though Mishel could see the terror that had come through here. And it reminded her of Kaeshana, Goddess help me...

A clouded mind was not one she wished to have, and unsure of where to go from here, the padawan set her pack down and placed her knees into the dirt. Meditate on that which troubles you, clear your mind, for when you are at peace, when you are calm the Force shall guide you. Breathe deeply and look inside yourself... Words of the other Jedi from Utapau rang through her thoughts. Mishel shut her eyes and let the Force flow through and around her, she began her meditation in an effort to clear her mind.

[member="Coren Starchaser"]

 

[Armand Temi]

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Objective: Exfil invaluable FOSB asset near the Cave of Evil
Allies: First Order, Galactic Empire [member="Therran Graush"] [member="Kyrel Ren"]
Enemies: Galactic Alliance


Twenty-four hours. Depending on what one is doing, twenty-four hours can go by as slow as a felucian slug, or conversely one could look at a shiny, fashionable chrono and wonder, just where did all of those minutes go?

For Varas, twenty-four hours was the blink of an eye. She was primarily unconscious for most of the last day and night after the First Order Blockade of a strategic Galactic Alliance Trade Route, a successful endeavor, resulting in an increased presence of Sieger Ren's soldiers in the vicinity. From the lifepod of the Ithuskusk to a sterile hospital bed in a medbay, the brunette clone lay in a foggy, dreamless sleep, unaware that there would be barely any time to acclimate to her new cybernetic hand, a present from her father after he lobbed off her real one on the bridge of the doomed Alliance ship.

She only woke up once, screaming in pain, but after a minute of the intense agony - metal fusing to flesh, muscle and bone, with a sickening grinding sound accompanying - she fell with a thud on the mattress, the shock causing her to pass out again.

Varas had little time to process what had happened once she awoke. Kyrel expected her to fight in her still-healing state. He expected her to fight with the fatigue she felt - like heavy weights had been attached to her arms and legs.

She had a sense that Therran Graush resented her existence upon the drop ship. The Sith-Epicanthix hybrid was not part of the Ren, and she felt curious as to why. But as she had been trained, now was the time for silence, reflection and meditation, not chatty small talk.

"Countdown 'till realspace has started. Be ready."

Closing her eyes, her readiness consisted of connecting with the darkside energies on the planet, the Force Nexus of the cave able to be felt even as they jolted then gracefully settled from hyperspace. The metal fingers of her right hand clicked against her lightsaber hilt, Kyrel’s old weapon, in fact, that called to her occasionally, thrusting unwanted memories into her head, causing her to wonder if a lobotomy might have been a better choice than a mechanical hand.

She raised her green eyes to Therran and then to Kyrel who was not lost, but also not overly eager to connect with her at the moment.

Did she still long to kill her father?

Yes... yes, she did.

 

[Progflaw99]

​

​

Hex M, 50 GSM \\ Dagobah​

​

Launch | Present Time | Hyperspace​

​

FIV Ziggurat | Taskmaster-class Escort Carrier | LAAT/i Gunship | Exiting Primary Hangar​

​

​

​

The subtle shift of the deck plating beneath his feet, a hushed intake of breath. They had arrived. The crew of the Ziggurat had been prepared before reversion into realspace, so also had the soldiers been ready, each loaded into the confines of the LAAT/i gunships packed into the hangar. Wingtip to wingtip. Like a plague of mighty locust they waited patiently for the order, engines pulsing with errant energy. And then it came.

There were no motivating speeches, no system wide broadcasts, not even a signal brief. Only action. In a single unified lurch, nearly six squadrons worth of LAAT/i gunships rose from the deck before jettisoning out into the void. Rolf gripped the handhold above the sealed blast shield, his body swaying along with the rest of the troopers behind him. These weren't regular stormtroopers, no - these were the ranks of the Storm Commandos. Rolf had done his time with the conventional forces, even carved out recognition among his peers but now he ventured out into the obscure. Special Operations were far from abnormal for the Colonel, he'd been performing those sorts of operations since before Kaeshana. This time however, he wasn't part of a massive assault force, at least not a conventional one.

Even as the gunships sped towards the surface he could tell they were in for a wild ride. Ahead loomed the rapidly responding Alliance fleet, obscuring the only way towards the surface of the planet - there was no turning back now. Caught in the open, free of the safety of their berth, they had one way to go and one way only. Down. Shifting once again beneath his booted feet, the LAAT/i affectionately referred to as "The Growler" by her crew, dove below the initial plane of the now facing fleets.

:: Brace for contact. ::

The short chirp over the comms was somewhat distorted, but clear enough. They'd be entering the range of the enemy within moments. All around the hold, soldiers gripped their weapons, handholds, and onto their gear. This was just like one of the hundreds of missions Rolf had been on before and yet he found it no less harrowing than before. The impending silence and smooth flight before the jarring contact of a first hit on the drop ship's shields. Granted, this dropship would serve them much better than the Assault Landers he was used to. Heavily armed and armored, these would at least see them to the ground in one piece. He hoped.

:: Contact ::

It was a single word and as they passed the threshold Rolf felt his jaw involuntarily clench. It wouldn't be but a second before they and the rest of the gunships streaking towards the planet's atmosphere were absconded by the weapons of the enemy. Would they weather it, or be released into the void?

[member="Mathieu Bahreiko"] | [member="Cathul Thuku"] | [member="Mazik Stazi"]​

​

[member="The Major"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Robogeber"]​

 

[Veino Garn]

Allies: [member="Ever Dawnracer"] [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Rekha Kaarde"] @Varex
------------------------------

Veino looked up as Coren arrived and nodded. Sleep still hung in the corners of his eyes from the transit and nap that he had caught on the ride over here, with a detachment of Jensaarai. They had taken up recon positions in a perimeter, with their armor on and presences cloaked in the Force. Not even Veino could tell where they were in the Force and he had grown up with most of them. One of them had been his first kiss even. But, they had disappeared into the swamp. Sensing life was of no use here on this world. Everything was alive and a good chance was that most of it wanted to kill them. Eat at least part of them, anyways.

"Republic Rangers?" Veino looked up as the group arrived and he gave them a once-over before jerking his head towards Coren. "That's him." He gestured to their uniforms. "Been a while since anyone's seen those colors in the field."

He pushed his hair out of his face and tied it back in a top-knot, while his helmet sat on his knees, and stood, with the helmet under one arm. "Master Veino Garn. Used to fight with the Republic until they got a bit uncomfortable with non-Jedi." He held his other hand out to shake. "Good to have you all back."

He paused as a message raced across the battlecomms. He sighed, letting his shoulders rise and fall. "First Order forces inbound. Suit up." After a few moments he placed the helmet back on and strode towards the entrance of the cave.

Darkness leaked from its entrance, and a wild, reckless joy. Oh, the Dark loved times such as these. Conflict, fear, anger, bitterness. It thrived on such times, but they would resist it. Even as it pulled to him, Veino felt its tentacles rub against his mind and then yank away, as if burned. That was the other thing about Dark. It could only handle so much Light. After dying and coming back, Veino was full of Light, even when he wished that it wasn't so.

 

[Elensa Jari]

​

Location | Medical Bay, FIV Concordia​

Allies | [member="Ara Zambrano"] | [member="Samka Derith"]​

Enemies | The Galactic Alliance​

The air smelled of chemicals and the faint aroma of Bacta, a sterile scent that was only mildly offensive, so artificial that it was cloying, a reminder that this was not a place fit for sentient beings, and one that would only be used in moments of need. There was no softness to it, no tranquil sense of being somewhere truly designed for habitation. Those within came with only two purposes: to be brought back from harm, or to slip into the sweet embrace of death in a place that had little of life to it. And so this is how so many meet their ends: in a white chamber where you are but flesh and bone, with little of the spirit remaining. Elensa shuddered at the thought - better to die on some filthy battlefield than in this cold, sterilised box.

Others had not been so fortunate: brought in bleeding, missing limbs, cries echoing in the acoustically-dampened medbay, agony and suffering evident in the very air, covered only by the sharp smell of chemicals and the insistent bleeping of the medical droids that floated silently on their repulsorlifts, administering drugs with sharp syringes, or applying laser cauterisers to seal wounds. The more human medics went to-and-fro, applying bacta and kolto liberally, their expressions cool and professional. All but for the eyes. Determined, but missing something, as if some vital spark has been drained from them, in the presence of death and suffering.

The young woman noted the stiffness in their movements as they went about their duties - another orderly covering the body of a fallen trooper nearby, pulling a thin white sheet up over their face to conceal the visage of death from those yet living. Dispassionate treatment, perhaps, little befitting the sacrifices made by those who had now passed on, but at least offered with more care than was true of the enemy: their corpses had merely been flushed out the airlocks into the darkness of space, a better fate than they deserved, in truth. They had fought well, and honourably, but such was not of consequence here. They tried to murder the Supreme Leader. That's an insult not easily forgotten.

Elensa herself had been transferred to the Concordia to receive medical treatment, in light of the damage suffered by the Executioner. Others had come: the auburn-haired one that her Master was so fond of floating in a bacta tank, and another, a diminutive woman with hair dyed brightly, her aura in the Force burning with a level of power that was far stronger than that of most that Elensa had encountered within the First Order. There was something familiar about that presence - the Hapan remembered sensing it during the battle with the Mandalorians, reinforcing the will of those who fought to protect the ship and the Supreme Leader it carried. Appearances truly can be deceiving, she reflected.

Her armour resting beside her on the bed, Elensa herself was being attended to be a medic that was carefully working to remove the shrapel that had struck her during battle, the sharp flechettes having pierced the leather of her armour, cutting deeply into her hip, blood flowing freely as each one was withdrawn, though no gasp or exclamation of pain escaped her muted lips. The medic wiped the blood with a sterile cloth and sealed the cuts with a cauteriser - painful, as Elensa's expression showed, but necessary. A bacta patch applied over the top, and the medic moved on. Quick, efficient, dispassionate.

The deck offered a short momentary shudder, the only indication of a ship that had been travelling at lightspeeds now slowing as it returned to normal space, a deceleration that would have splattered them across the bulkheads were it not for the inertial dampeners. And yet to come out of hyperspace so soon... Something felt amiss. They weren't returning to First Order space, clearly - that journey would have taken longer. Wounded, and yet we press forward? It was the only explanation she could think of. The young woman glanced at her armour, and the lightsaber pike that was stood against a nearby wall. Would she need these again so soon?

Perhaps it is as they say: no rest for the wicked.

 

[Roth Tillian]

Allies: [member="Mathieu Bahreiko"] [member="Gir Quee"] [member="Cathul Thuku"] @Tristam Vos [member="Aedan Miles"]​

​

​

A squadron of fighters drifted at the edge of the system, all systems but life-support off-line. As far as scanners were concerned, they were a bit of drifting debris, and so they appeared. No lights. No engines. No comm chatter. Not even a semblance of formation. Just twelve fighters hanging in the void of space, drifting in circles.

But in reality, they were quite communicative, on a spiritual level. Every pilot was an experienced Jedi or Jensaarai, with a love for fast machines and high stakes. They had chosen to eschew their initial orders and be pilots. And so, now they spoke telepathically, their minds gently linked. They were a strike force far from any battle lines on purpose, hidden amidst a cloud of debris that had been launched from the ships in the earlier battle.

Already First Order ships were beginning to arrive in-system. Not many though and none that were very large, as far as he could tell. Their arrival was more disorganized than it had been before.

Hold tight. He thought to his squadron. Let's see what happens. Find a priority target.

Gentle mental responses drifted through his mind and he nodded, craning his head to look through the cockpit to get a better look at the fleets. What stood out most was that they were small. Much smaller than the previous ones. More a skirmishing fleet than anything else.

That puzzled him.

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Faction: First Order \\ Enemy: Galactic Alliance \\ Status: In Medbay, Preparing for Assault
Allies In Vicinity: [member="Samka Derith"] \\ [member="Elensa Jari"]
Equipment: Lightwhip \\ Armour ​

I hate to wake you, but we're not quite done yet.​

Tongues of fire wrapped around her heart and burst outward, a starburst of dark energy rippling through the form floating in the comforting embrace of warm Bacta. Dark lashes opened, amber flecked orbs meeting the familiar crimson gaze of the Overlord before her, the brightly hued hair and soft smile a welcome sight compared to her last awakening from the embrace of the healing liquid. The soft pads of Ara’s feet touched against the cool glass bottom as the tank slowly drained under the order of the teenaged Master Derith, the slight downturn of her lips hidden behind the mask from which the cool touch of oxygen flowed.

A quick tug ripped it away, the offending piece of medical equipment hanging limply, sufficiently cast aside as the Arch-Queen emerged, the flood of noise rushing into the vacuum grating against her ears in sharp contrast to the muted peace of the moments before. A hand resting against the cool glass steadied her for a moment, the knee that had been shattered less than a day before, threatening to give out under the unexpected weight of her body pressing down on it. A phantom reminder of the wounds earned as the hangar of the FIV Executioner erupted into flames shot through her leg, the brunette catching herself from reflex, pleasantly surprised when she neither stumbled nor collapsed from the pressure, the pain she braced for remarkably absent.

A small, satisfied smile curled the corners of her mouth up as another hesitant step was successful, the wave of a hand easily dismissing the small contingency of droids buzzing around, intent on poking and prodding all exposed flesh, the thunderous expression cast their way utterly useless against the life-less automatons. A soft sigh of exasperation escaped as she turned her attention back to the girl before her, a cursory glance of the medbay taken in as she did so. A slight raising of the eyebrows accompanied the recognition of the mute Disciple of Ren, the girl being tended to with efficiency and surrounded by her customary stoic silence. There was an appreciation and respect for the Disciple’s fortitude burning in her expression as quickly as it came and went, little time to worry about the multitudes of wounded and dying surrounding.

”I assume that you are not inviting me to a nice meal in celebration of my miraculous survival.”

The softly lilting tone, laced with humor and familiar teasing, floated over the din, easily mistaken for a callous disregard to the lives fading around them should one miss the steel behind the crimson irises. An answer was unneeded, the orders passed from [member="Sieger Ren"] arriving shortly before Ara had submitted herself to the ministrations of the medical professionals. There was only one reason Samka would disturb her healing before it was complete, the small fizzles of lightning radiating from her sore shoulder and knee making her acutely aware of her partially intact state. The First Order had arrived in orbit above Dagobah, their push deeper into Galactic Alliance space proceeding as planned.

Without awaiting confirmation, the Epicanthix made her way to a small pile of folded, dark hued clothing, a frown narrowing her eyes as she took in the non-descript clothing she could only assume would be hers. A belt with her lightwhip rested beside her armour, both faring far better against the explosion than the fabric of her cloak and tunic had. Dressing quickly, the myriad of scars exposed as she floated in the clear liquid once again hidden beneath layers of dark Zeyd-cloth and armourweave.

”When do we dispatch?”

 

[Huxy]

Allies: Glorious First Order
Nearest Allies: [member="Dr. Aes'ona Terrani"]
Enemies: Galactic Alliance & Alliance Allies
Aboard: "Firehawk" - LAAT/i
Location: Approaching touchdown on Dagobah
Equipment:
"Deep Fryer" Rifle
P-23 Pistol
Ballistic Knife

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=rmVzbTh-mQg

The armored, waxy fist that was connected to the body of Tempest held tightly to the railing that fell at an angle from the ceiling of the Firehawk from above. In Tempest's other hand, was the 'Deep Fryer' rifle, a weapon that he, more often than not, had carried into battle. It had never failed him, it would never fail him. Tempest had made sure before every battle or invasion that his weapon had passed inspection and that it was always shiny, with its own little emblems from Tempest imprinted onto the handle of the rifle for cosmetic reasons. This invasion wasn't any diffrent...other than the fact that he was in charge of a few rookie storm-troopers, though it wasn't anything that he couldn't handle. Though despite him participating in the battle, Tempest doubted he would see much action. He had been assigned to escort duty for Doctor Aes'ona Terrani...something he wasn't necessarily complaining about, though he still had his reservations about what would happen. Yes, he had met with and interacted with the doctor before on numerous previous meetings, though he more wanted to get to killing some rebel scum this time around

Tempest was nervous at the very least. Last time he had been in an invasion... every one of his squad-mates had died. Then there was the time before that, where the destroyer had fallen to the ground like it were a fallen angel. He didn't want what had happened in the past to repeat it's self, he hoped it wouldn't. Though, the forces of the Frist Order were more spread out this go round. This time they had to cover a large amount of territory, marshlands to be specific. To top it all off...it just had to be marshlands. It wasn't something that he was looking forward to, though he knew it was a necessity. That, and there were rumors of giant snakes or monsters hiding in the swamps. Though, he had to put those cowardly thoughts aside. He wouldn't allow for them to grip hold of him once more like how they had done so previously. "Shiny's...you're new to this. So, I'll give you a few pointers. Stick with me and the majority of the squad...and most of you will survive. I cannot guarantee the survival of all of you...I wouldn't lie to my own soldiers. Some of you will die...some of you will live...some of you will be scarred, it matters not...today we beat back the savagery of the Alliance," the voice of Tempest barked viciously as it went through his voice modulator, sounding metallic and harsh to the core like a sadistic android.

 

[Taheera Sollo]

Allies: Galactic Alliance
Enemies: Soon [member="Asharad Graush"]
Objective: Find wounded and get them to the temporary clinic near the Force Nexus

It was hard to feel the heat from the ship's exhaust as it lifted off. The air was already thick and moist. It was a dry heat that ruffled against her clothing, armor-weave, and ribbons of chestnut hair. Twin orbs of verdant green narrowed as the transport lifted away to find drier ground. The heat reminded her of Thyferra. Those blazing and biting flames that covered the city. Fire on the ground and fire in the sky.

The healer wondered whatever happened to the sith with the glowing golden eyes and the glaring face mask. After that toxin had been released in the air, she'd never been higher in her life.

"Master Sollo. Orders?" The head soldier in the main escort squad shifted his weapon along his shoulder, wiping sweat that had already gathered across his brow.

"Spread out and cover by grids following the maps. Reports said there might be some survivors here." Gaze panned around them. There were smoking remains of the too recent war. A half blown walker lay half in the swamp and half crushing one of the large, rooted trees. "I aim to find them." The man saluted and stepped back to relay orders to the small medical team and the rest of the escort.

Taking a breath, the Mirialan stepped forward, letting her senses in the force stretch forward. Even with a recent battle, the swamp was teaming with life. And death.

 

[Rapax]

Side: The Galactic Alliance
Enemies: First Order
Objective: Meet up with the team, Forward Operating Base Defence (Grounders)
Location: At the Darkside Cave
Team: [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"]

Who knew a simple exploration would turn into hiding in a dark side filled cave for a day, War has broken out over this planet and they where stuck in the middle of it, The night wasn't the most pleasant in a cave where its a constant mental struggle but he endured. When Katrine suggested us getting out of there before the cave tries again he couldn't agree more they had to get to the others and get home as quickly as possible before this war escalates to the cave, He picked up his sabers and clipped them to his belt before nodding and followed her to the entrance.

He kept his senses at the highest alert for any unwelcome guests that may come to investigate or utilize the cave for what ever twisted purpose it was, The cave was indeed a experience it was a shame this war prevented them from fully exploring it but perhaps after this is over pending on the victor he can come back and finish exploring this place.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Hex M, 50 GSM \\ Dagobah
En Route to Dagobah System | Present Time | Hyperspace
FIPV-9 System Patrol Vessel: Blackhole 3-2 (Repurposed Security Bureau Craft)

The woman to whom Captain Vitalis and his defense contractor [member="Alec Sienar"] were assigned seemed to be -- eccentric.

Which wasn't to say ineffective. But Talbot Vitalis was uneasy with eccentricities on the best of days. He had lived a thoroughly conventional life by the standards of his class and gender and homeworld; educated at a privileged day school until he was old enough to attend a prestigious, well-attended boarding school -- famous for educating both his ancestors and the ruling classes of Galidraan, categories which often overlapped --after which he had gone to university, joined the planetary defense force as an officer, and taken over his family estate upon the death of his father. Even his marriage -- extraordinary because the woman, in addition to being a conventional choice by Galidraani standards, was the head of government for a galactic superpower.

Still, all within the realm of normal.

This Station Chief, on the other hand, was what would be described among polite society as a character. As he stepped out of the shower, he had his comlink tuned to the ship's channel, where a march of some kind was being piped through between alerts. "I rather like it," Talbot told Alec after a moment as he toweled off. A moment later, he was stepping into his bodyglove, which he zipped up to his chest. "The truth is, the Station Chief is a fascinating character. I'd almost rather pick her brain than deploy, but -- well, you know what they say. Ours not to reason why, ours but to do and die."

He slid into his reinforced scout armor and picked up his helmet as he spoke, finally turning to Alec. "If you're finished, we need to muster for a briefing." When they were ready, the two men departed for the briefing, finding seats up close, and Talbot rested his helmet on his knees as he waited, giddy with anticipation for the coming mission.

[member="The Major"] | [member="Alec Sienar"] | [member="Luther Ando"] | @[member="FN-6767"] | [member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="Therran Graush"] | [member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Sieger Ren"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"]​

 

[Draven Dursden]

Draven remained near his master on the surface. He helped with the wounded, gathering them up, and helping them along, but he was distant and deep in thought. The water was warm, and easily up to his knees, more like his waste, the stout apprentice grunting as he let the wounded person fall against the tree. Eventually, after a hour or two of this, he made his way back over to his master [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] saying, "Anything else to be done? I am not particularly useful when it comes to healing." Having his answer, the Padawan then set off. He wandered deep into the swamp, sabers swinging at his hips as he did so, inspecting the plant life and animals, making notes of anything that seemed particularly damaged from the battle. The amount of carnage Draven had seen was shocking, certainly unexpected.

 

[Prennis Keeoli]

| Aboard : LAAT/i "Firehawk" |
| Commanding Officer : Fleet Admiral Carlyle Rausgeber "[member="Robogeber"]" |
| Nearby Ally : [member="FN-2826"] "Tempest" |
| Location : Somewhere above Dagobah |
| Objective : Provide medical evac of GE forces |
| Equipment:

Spoiler: ""

- Jungle fatigues
- Stormtrooper blast vest
- Medical backpack
- "Deep Fryer" rifle

†††

Aes'ona was renown for her hatred of combat and combative positions. There was a reason that she had avoided becoming a field medic or even a doctor too close to the skirts of First Order space. Ever since leaving her neutral, semi-civilian post aboard FIMS Mountbatten in the Interior to serve Carlyle Rausgeber's Sixth Fleet, her opinion of violence had changed very little.

That was, at least, true until now. This mission, it was a little cliche to say, had flipped upside down her outlook on the war. She had always supported the effort itself, as long as others were on the line. That she rarely told others, for fear of them thinking her cowardly. Not so. Not at all. She could fight grizzly battles in a hospital or a medbay all day; her mind, steady surgery hand, and reassuring bedside manner all did much better good than her trigger finger, last she checked. But now? When the news of the Alliance's defeat of the Empire reached her and Fleet Admiral Rausgeber's wish to assemble a medical evacuation team became known, she suddenly entertained a new thought: maybe she could be of help, if she relied heavily on someone else's blaster while she did what she was best at.

Despite her desire to be here, the doctor could not help her nerves--semi-ironic that she could have helped them if they were anyone else's. The safety was on, but still the medical officer kept her finger straight and off the trigger as she went though the shooting process in her head. She had learned on the Malice, but mostly on some suggested simulation software via holoprojector in her quarters. ...Albeit, that was on the SE-44C sidearm she carried on-deck. Thus, she knew next to nothing now about this blaster, although she had gotten down enough of the theoretics. To be fair, she had not had notice to further her understanding.

It all showed. She stood there, in a somewhat darker corner of the gunship, one hand holding to a hanging grab handle in an attempt to stay her swaying, the other on her just-in-case rifle and running though her own imaginary practice runs. Her hair was pulled back into a somewhat messy ponytail, evidence she had not been totally prepared when she had revived the call to take off from the Fleet. Everything else was in order, though, her green fatigue sleeves rolled up evenly past her elbows, her blast vest tight and secure around her torso, her FO shield choker at her neck to remind her of her father...and, with any luck, give her luck.

But maybe she would not need it. Tempest was here after all, a trooper she had grown reasonably quickly to have full confidence in, though she knew relatively little of him.

Though, a comrade is a comrade, and he would be technically her first.

Call her sentimental.

 

[D'vok Windroamer]

Music: Here
Allies: Galactic Alliance
Enemies: First Order
Location: Unknown, Somewhere in the swamp.
Objective: Eliminate all hostile invaders, and help wounded.
Equipment:

Spoiler

Fatigues (Minus Bandanda & Glasses)
DL-44
EE-3
Thermal Detonators

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------
The murky, grey water of the swamp was up to D'voks knees now, and as he waded through it, he wished more and more that he had never shown up here. He had come initially to help combat the imperial attack, however he had gotten planetside too late, and was re-assigned to help find wounded and retrieve casualties. Simple enough job. A bit morbid, but it needed to get done. Then the call came in over comms that the first order was taking a crack at trying to capture this chithole. Great. He moved past the smoldering wreckage of an X-wing, but he couldn't see any remains. He hoped that meant the pilot had ejected or something. He clutched his EE-3 tightly and pressed on. He thought he heard an explosion in the distance. he stopped, and tried to listen. Blaster fire echoed throughout the jungle in all directions, although he couldn't see a single bolt. As soon as it started, it was over, replaced by a man's screams of agony. D'vok squinted in solemn determination, trying to figure out the guy's location. He moved slow and low through the water, prepared to dive for cover at a moment's notice. He hoped he'd get there in time. He pushed past a thicket of dead branches an trees, which led to a small clearing, where the soldier lay in a puddle of red tinged swamp water. D'vok took a step towards him, but was startled by the sudden noise of a blaster bolt being fired into the wounded man, putting him out of his misery. D'vok dove behind an old rotten log, covered in moss and vines. He hoped whoever had finished off the soldier was going the other way. soft, wet squelching of boots on mud became louder, and D'vok cursed in his head. He peeked out as sneakily as he could. All he saw was his reflection in the back of a stormtrooper's shiny white helmet. D'vok steadied his EE-3, and fired a volley. Revenge.