Where It Began [First Order Dominion of Eriadu [Hex N-47]

[Omari Ngao]

[SIZE=14pt]“You have all let the seeds of doubt and anarchy seep into your lives. This has created a difficult situation for me. I love this world and its loyalty was rewarded, but for letting in this Alliance I feel the disloyalty must be punished.” [/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]The image faded to many confused conversations among the gathered crowd.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=12pt]Then the Stormtrooper started firing…[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]

[/SIZE]​

​

[SIZE=11pt]Years ago the First Order had sought to settle on Eriadu, but conflict arose between the established Galactic Alliance and the growing Imperial nation. The then neutral Eriaduan people had promised the Supreme Leader their loyalty, but they had betrayed his faith with siding with the Alliance for protection against the Coreward threat of the One Sith and marauding pirate entities. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Brutality was the punishment they received for deceiving and betraying the Order’s leader. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]In squares throughout the capital city, hundreds had gathered to hear Sieger Ren relieve them of the protection they had been afforded. Hundreds were killed in droves by the Stormtrooper companies stationed there.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]In the following years and the collapse of the Alliance, it was inevitable that the Order would return to the planet. When that first destroyer came out of hyperspace, thousands were in uproar. Fear, the pain of the memories the Imperials brought with them, hatred, and rage. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The seizure of the planet would be easy if the First Order had come to continue with the same intent as they had years ago. But there were elements of Imperial support. There were Agents of the Security Bureau embedded in the populace and the government, tasked with rooting out supporters from insurgent entities. Central Command has deployed the armed forces, tasked with peacekeeping and pacifying designated hostile installations within the capital city. A high alert has been issued that the terrorist organization known as the [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Jedi Reformation[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] has been active on the planet, sowing hatred through the populace for the First Order and the mysterious Order of Ren. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]

[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=11pt]Obj 1: Underground Fortifications: After the First Order torched and burned most of Eriadu City, there were bunkers implemented underneath the city. The largest, underneath the capitol building is said to be a fortress with surrounding redoubts and fortifications in the sewers connected. These hostiles are as dangerous to the First Order as they are to the people they set out to protect. Eliminate them![/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Obj 2: Garner Support: Eriaduan governors all across the planet are wary of the First Order, not wanting to risk its wrath. Gather the support of other settlements at a First Order sanctioned summit. The Security Bureau has deployed multiple assets to the area, on the look out for the presence of assassins aiming to sabotage the meetings.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Obj 3: Reformation Taskforce: In orbit of the planet, while the First Order works to cleanse and aide the population, a Reformation fleet has ambushed the Imperial fleet in orbit of the planet![/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Obj 4: BYOO[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]![/SIZE]

 

[Konstantin Makarev]

Objective One
Post One
Location: Eastern Redoubt, Sector Four

The Colonel pushed up the periscope, and then gestured to the driver, "Commence fire, for full effect." Makarev barked, before gesturing at the duracrete bunker and pillboxes, "Make a crater." The driver gave a thumbs up, and Makarev stood back, and watched as his AT-HAT now charged its weapons. Konstantin reached to his helm, and then peeled down his protective goggles, before watching the blast. The solar-ionisation cannon of the walker blew upon the bunker, sending rubble flying. The bodies of the stormtroopers, who had attempted to storm the bunker, were sent sprawling, and now their remnants began to rush towards the hole the walker had carved into the ground.

Makarev allowed himself a smirk and pause as he watched the white clad bodies storm the bunker. There was a want there. A lust for adventure which pounded within his heart. "Prepare for dismount." Makarev commanded, to his lieutenants, "I'm going to head down there, get back into action." The colonel didn't wait for a response. His reputation saw to that. Instead, when he moved to the rear, he was greeted with a rappel cord, which he dutifully clipped down on himself. The hatch opened, and Makarev jumped, sliding down, before hitting the scorched Eridauan earth. Taking out his pistol, he sprinted towards the rear of the stormtrooper formation, "Come on lads, up and at 'em!"

 

[The Major]

Eraidu, Sector 10
Objective 2: Undermine Insurgency
Special Agent Nillks

A proactive approach in ascertaining, analyzing, and acting upon intelligence was something drilled into second nature for the wide array of mixed misfits, accountants, and glorified janitors working within the illustrious Security Bureau. SA. Nillks was no different in that regard even if the paths he took varied quite widely from the flatfooted investigator. An inquisitive young man from a Sump village with an effeminate lean to his walk and mannerisms, he had quickly distinguished himself as a useful hunter-gatherer of information.

Ever since the operation on Ketal he seemed to find himself experiencing a charmed life within Bureau —getting the best assignments rubbing shoulders with the cream of the crop that was the First Order.

A blaster bolt struck the wall just behind and above his head, and the agent did his best to duck behind a set of desks and holo cubicles that offered no solid cover. Resistance fighters had gathered from almost every walk of life, so it was surprising to say the least when Agent Nillks followed his mark here only to have it revealed that this particular company specializing in the sales and service of a popular civilian communicator were actually diehard ultranationalists armed with various weapons and assassins tools.

It was frankly ridiculous in the agent’s humble opinion. That didn't stop a wave of color sorted order forms and a stuffed toy Wampa from bursting upwards as another shot bounced within the workspace.

Jango’s Bones! What a day!

The agent, cover clearly blown, produced his personal compact shotgun and started laying down a few shells of his own.

Over the roar of the firepower Nillks distinctly heard a man scream a taunt:

“I'm still here, Fascist!”

 

[Robogeber]

Objective: Three
Post: II
Location: Eridau Orbit, FIV Pellaeon

The Grand Admiral watched Eridau as it slowly circled beneath him, eyes sat in firey slits. For many other Alliance systems, there was a sense of indifference to their purpose and place. They were not neccessarily bad, or opposed to the Order, but had been strongarmed into the fold by corrupt Jedi and the corporate interests of the Galactic Alliance. Assimilation of them, in Rausgeber's mind was a process of educating the uneducated as to the strengths and security the First Order could offer them. But now, Eridau was different. Eridau, sat in Rausgeber's contempt.

The system had been gifted the mercy of Supreme Leader, and the security of the Order, only to foolishly waste the opportunity, like a petulant child. Throwing it all away so they could throw their lot in with the Galactic Alliance. Some part of Carlyle conceded he was pleased with how it all eventuated. The droid did of course realise that had Sieger Ren not shifted his headquarters to Dosuun, he would not be here. Avalonia would have been ravaged by Ssi-Ruuk raaiders, and the Order, shattered. However, now, the First Order returned to the planet which had denied them for so long. It was a moment of triumph, and, Carlyle hoped, a moment where Eridau recognised that their alleigance and lack of faith was misguided and wrong. They would subjugate, and make Eridau pay for its insolence.

"Grand Admiral." A voice shot out from the starboard crewpit. The Grand Admiral paused, and looked down, a cold stare meeting the gaze of the Sensor Officer. "We have contacts sir, coming into sector four, and heading towards us." Rausgeber smirked. Perhaps Eridau would be more of a fight than first thought.

 

[Vio]

Location: The Great Plaza

Running through the back alleys, being sure to avoid all the little nooks and crannies that might trip you up this part of the pathway, Vidar scurried like a rat, maneuvering his way past dozens in crowds as they made their way to some spectacle. His small black cloak and hood billowed in the wind, although the hood did not fall from his face. The little boy with red hair could care less about this 'Sieger Ren'. Another big fleet of ships, another scary Imperator who sacrificed millions for 'order', and another planet he had to flee. The people were very scared, because the last time the First Order were here, they shot into crowds with no care. Luckily though, Vidar wouldn't be around when they started their petty massacre.

Clutched as tight as another child his same age might clutch the hand of a parent, or a lucky pair of dice, were an assortment of coins. Stopping in front of a non-descript building that would blend right in with the rest of this dull city if not for the sign that read Kaan's Shelter, Vidar quickly opened the door and slid into the dimly lit lobby, narrowly avoiding some large man running towards the square with the rest. His force aura and presence hidden, a talent he had learned not to attract extra attention even from non-force sensitives, he placed both of his hands on the counter of the receptionist, his chin barely the same height as the desk.

"Hello, which quarter do you need?", the female Mirialan who was manning the desk at the time spoke, trying to remain as respectable and polite as possible, but clearly worn out after having been with so many. Pulling down his hood, Vidar quickly ran a hand through his hair so he didn't look three years junior his true age.

"Kaan let me stay in the C quarter for free, and I told him I'd repay him, so...", he trailed off, forgetting whatever stupid speech he had planned to make to the receptionist, or just pretending he had. "One moment," the woman said, standing up and exiting through a door that was only accessible behind the counter, as a small holographic sign appeared presenting the word 'Busy'. Taking the time to turn around and examine the lobby, Vidar had hoped to see some familiar faces... but saw none. Just the usual odd, scruffy looking alien or a family of refugees down on their luck.

Kaan's Shelter was formerly a large shipping warehouse that had been converted to accommodate people, although even those who paid the most out of all of them to get access into A quarter didn't even have their own rooms. C was a cold meal, a colder shower, and a cold, hard floor to sleep on. B quarter had at least some provided pillows that were washed by the staff, and warm but spartan meals and living conditions. A quarter housed those without housing that could at least perform the occasional odd-job for those around town, or steal enough coins to be able to sleep comfortably compared to the suckers in B and C quarter. That, and the somewhat larger meal and the longer shower-time pass.

"Hey, Beren!", came a friendly, middle-aged voice behind him. For a split second, Vidar didn't respond, but he quickly remembered the name was a pseudonym of his. Turning around to face the voice, Vidar, or Beren, was greeted by a smiling, taller middle-aged human, Kaan himself. He was a generous man, who had little money of his own, and only charged fees for access to the quarters so that he could get enough to sustain the massive expenses of the warehouse. Giving a little smile and wave, Vidar placed the coins he had in his palm on the table. "You know, I let you stay there for free for a reason. You don't have to pay me," Kaan said kindly, beginning to push the coins back towards Vidar.

"I brought them for the others. Can you make sure the blind man in B Quarter can be moved up?", Vidar asked, his eyes almost naturally adding to his convincingness. Hesitating, Kaan eventually spoke. "Sure, kid. Run along now, runnin' this place is busy work!", he said smiling in a way that brought a smile to Vidar as well.

His hood back over his head, he bolted through the streets, avoiding a few large commotions. Narrowly avoiding a knee from a larger alien, Vidar ran until he found himself in the Great Plaza, the main location of the shooting 'gallery' the last time the First Order was here. All along the walkways and running through the plaza were several squads of stormtroopers.

"Move, move!", one of them at the head of a column shouted, as people rushed to make way for those that had so easily killed so many of them last time they were here. As dozens of heavy plastoid boots thudded their way across the tiles, several blaster shots rang out almost at once, several yellow blaster bolts crashing down around them, hitting stormtroopers and civilians alike.

Seeing an opportunity, Vidar dived onto one of the fallen Stormtroopers, ripping off his equipment belt and throwing it over his shoulder, grabbing his blaster as well.

As a firefight ensued behind him, Vidar stormed off as fast as he could, the sound of plastoid on plastoid covered up as the blaster shots could still be heard in the background. Still looking behind him, Vidar did not notice the full squad of Stormtroopers heading down the same alleyway he was running, as was thrown back onto the ground, his scavenged gear splayed around him as his head clunked into one of their chests.

"Take the belt, and get that blaster from his hands before he hurts somebody," the first one said, his gun along with several others pointed at Vidar.

There were very few ways off planet, especially with a First Order fleet above them. The only way in or out was on a First Order ship, and seeing as if he used his force powers, and exposed himsef to these loons...

He could afford to lose the belt, hell, he could even afford to lose the grenade, but not the blaster. Quickly aiming the blaster at the belt which was held by one of the stormtroopers, a bolt hitting the grenade directly set it off, blasting the troopers back and giving Vidar space to run. As he ran, he could only close his eyes and run faster, as red bolts flew past him, and he stormed towards the landing platforms...

Location: Running from Great Plaza to Landing Platforms

 

[Hansen]

Character: Alika Zovu
Objective #: Two
Location: Eridau Surface, Sector Ten, Zarne's Electronics
Nearby: [member="The Major"]
Allies: [member="The Major"]
Enemies: Bloodthirsty Rebels

Sauntering along the street in a cloak of shadow Alika followed behind the unwitting Special Agent Nillks who she suspected was blindly walking into a carefully laid trap by the local Insurgency, the very same group she'd finally infiltrated weeks earlier only to learn of this hit two hours ago in a social club from overly talkative men well plied with beer and wine. Alika is careful not to nudge into any bystanders there was no greater betrayal of her own presence than making physical contact with another, the good spectre slipped in and worked their trade and left before anyone even knew what had befallen them without witnessing the tell-tale arrival of one so trained. Brandishing two Dissuader Slugthrower pistol beside her thighs in a tight anxiety-fueled grip she watches Nillks turn and dissapear into the store-front and watches several men take notice and conspicuously follow behind: The hit is about to go down she thought and broke into a sprint that fortunately nobody could hear over the crowded thoroughfare keeping index fingers carefully against receivers she didn't want any rounds negligently being discharged into a poor Citizen Alika found the thought an innocent would be slain distasteful with nothing to say about the slaughter here years ago but plenty to think and nothing flattering but entirely seditious though she naturally kept them from leaving her mouth.

The hail of blaster shots ring out into the street sending the occupants of the Sidewalk in every direction away from the store shrieking in a pitch that hadn't assailed Alika's ears since her deployment on Kaeshana simultaneously Alika's body jerks and jolts in a confrontation between her flight and fight out of shock that the Agent could already be dead and the weight of their life's loss hits the young former Stormtrooper only fractions of a second before those trained and tested warrior instincts thrust the shrouded figure managed to push its' way through the hinged plexiglass door shotgun shells flatten against her breastplate flying over the villain straight into the young woman but the pain of the fresh bruises do not deter she who had endured stress positions for several hours. Alika's entire life as a Stormtrooper, a weapon for Sieger Ren had been an exercise in pain resistance and focus. Alika's pistols find their target; a scruffy looking man armed with some kind of blaster or cyclic rifle, they screamed some insult about 'Fascism' towards the Agent who Alika couldn't now see although guessed was somewhere opposite to the visible criminal. Advancing forward Alika still under the shroud of her cloak goes to press one pistol's barrel behind the man's ear a distinct trademark of assassins and criminals, one she had not learned while serving in the Stormtrooper Corps. "Not for long at this rate!" Alika growled angrily like some anger-possessed shade. "Drop the weapon and put your hands on your head!" Alika's distinct and thick 'Imperial' accent screamed throughout the damage ridden store, it was the young woman channelling the Non-Commissioned Officer's fury she'd so often been subjected to as a First Imperial Stormtrooper Cadet in her youth.

Alika shifts herself to place her quarry as a shield from gunfire that might be thrown by any of his stunned compatriots and the nearly featureless silhoutte raises one arm towards them, the woman aiming the other Dissuader pistol at them she hadn't started shooting as of yet....Alika wanted to set an example that the First Imperials weren't the monsters that the Alliance Propaganda painted in their broadcasts, she thought they had to be better than the people who opposed them even in some small way. Alika's heart beats in a deep slow cadence, every second seem to take forever to pass like it did on the treadmill back on the barracks when she found herself breathless yet the muscles just pushed harder over every agonising slow moment in time.

 

[Cynthia Alucard]

Captain (Jr. Grade) Cynthia "Cyn" Alucard
Designation: Pixie Leader
Classification: Fighter Interception Squadron (8)
Allies: [member="Robogeber"]

Objective III​

Grief, tethered with guilt and foolishness, filled Cynthia as her hands clutched a holo-projector and her free hand traced the images carefully with a single finger. Losses always occur in any combat mission, such concept never held any shock or surprise to her but because she could brace for the eventuality did not soften the blow nor had it come close to prepare her for the impact of the loss.

Lights and a single alarm blared to life in her small cabin, afforded to her due to her rank, but outside her closed doors the rest of her squadron were heard, their movements rushed. Their voices muffled, but Cynthia could guess what was being said and a playful smile with an escaped sigh brought her back to her present reality. She had already gotten dressed with her flight suit, only her helmet remained on the table, her hands clasped for it and she emerged from her room.

The rest of Pixie Squad all stood at attention, all of them with helmets on and all ready to make their way to the hanger. Cynthia's holo-projector flickered back in her room until it finally turned off, the sounds of boots marched away from their quarters and Cyn looked back to her room for a moment longer before she marched along with her squadron.

Death while in service to the First Order was taught as the ultimate sacrifice and honor for anyone, but to live and continue their service for The First Order. Well, Cynthia knew that no greater duty stood above living for The First Order and to continue to fight no matter what the galaxy at large put up to stop their might. The TIE Captain Pilot marched with the rest of her Squadron, their TIE craft waited for them once more to enter back into the battle.

 

[Jomasom Leuf]

Objective: BYOO
Post: 1
Location: Eriadu Manufacturing

Jomasom Leuf already had an inroad to the government, but whether he’d receive a charter for the West Rim Trading Company, he wasn’t entirely sure. So to bide his time, he landed The Blaudu Bounty in the docking bay of Eriadu Manufacturing to begin to penetrate the massive, yet insular trade hub made prosperous by the intersection of readily available space lanes from the Rimma Trade Route to the Hydian Way.

Like a primitive culture suppressed by a more technologically savvy one, Eriadu had suffered at the hands of the First Order for its choices on siding with the Galactic Alliance, but now that they’d been effectively driven out, the wheels of commerce could turn once again.

While his homeworld of Blaudu Sextus was no ecological wonder, Eriadu made it seem like paradise. As he waited in the lobby of Eriadu Manufacturing, Jomasom overlooked the reddish clouds on the horizon, and if he did not know they the product of rampant pollution, he’d almost call them pretty. But breathing the air had been taxing on his already cigarra-smoke tainted lungs, and he felt the distinct need to shower for the second time that day.

Was there fear in his heart to align himself with such a restrictive government, fanatics which were supposedly manipulated by a mystical and homicidal zealot called The Supreme Leader? At the end of the day, he had to admit that something didn’t sit well with him - perhaps the murder part - but he would put aside those pesky reservations for the sake of business. While his heroes in art and culture would designate morality as a primary part of commerce, Joma did not agree.

The pursuit of credits was emotionally agnostic. And what an exhilarating pursuit it was!

 

[Rahsah]

Objective 4
Post I

She wasn't even sure she was technically an initiate yet. That was how convoluted everything seemed. The Praetorians seemed tied to the Ren, even though they were technically separate entities. How it was that an Echani such as herself could fit in remained to be seen despite the long-standing history of Echani serving in such positions. The First Order was steeped in red tape and procedure. Everywhere a different rule or tradition stood in place to keep her from figuring out how to fit in. Honestly, there was little to show for her continuing efforts to serve, but that could all be remedied on Eriadu. Provided [member="Varas Ren"] allowed for it.

The planet was steeped in an air of trouble. Many seemed afraid of the Order and what could it do. Stares an apprehension greeted them at every turn. A lost gaze here; hurried steps there. At every turn, it was something different. More than likely this was the result of the Ren and not her. No Praetorian armor was present since she hadn't attained the status required to acquire such armor. Not yet. Time was all that stood in the way of the goal at hand, and possibly the Ren if this particular one proved to be spiteful towards a non-human. She was used to such hatred and attributed most of it to the fact that the majority lacked the skills of a warrior.

She doubted the Ren was the same.

An ever-present sentiment was growing on Eriadu. The belief that the First Order was somehow wrong had taken hold. It was easy for her to perceive that this was the result of the Jedi Reformation, just as it seemed the Ren had. Jedi was a cowardly people. Believing in the goodness of others was one thing, but believing that people could govern themselves independently and without a heavy government hand was foolhardy. Strength was a necessity for Order. The same could be said for putting down dissidents. That was the entire reason for their presence.

The silence was a power itself, permeating the air as silver eyes skimmed over the people. Anyone of them could be a Jedi in disguise and she wouldn't be able to tell without a thorough scan of their demeanor and actions. The lack of a connection to the Force sometimes proved to be not so useful. There was a sudden feeling of pickling hair on the back of her neck that caused a pause in movement. Silver-maned head turned to glance backward and studied the faces in the near distance. They were being watched. This sense of dread did not overwhelm but was cause for being cautious. Had the Ren picked up on it as well, or did she have another task in mind for them?

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Spoiler: You Can Call Me Monster

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KSH-FVVtTf0​

Location: Phelar Port
Objective: 2 - Garner Support
Equipment: [ the look ] [ lightsaber ] [ hololink ]

One of his ancestors had written all business is war.

The idiom was often repeated, to the point of being considered a universal axiom. And if it were, then it seemed that the reverse was equally true.

There were a lot of detractors to First Order control of Eriadu. A lot of bad blood between the government of Dosuum and the governorship here. With the First Order fleet pressing into the system and the First Order Security Bureau starting to close its fist around the planet, those tensions were about to start extracting a toll in human lives.

So the question fell to him, what should he do? Stay within the quiet borders of the Atrisian Commonwealth, willfully blind to the turmoil taking place?

Action was required. Subtle. Strategic. The calculated descent into madness, advocating for the First Order in a bid to mitigate the devastation and loss of life to the greatest extent possible with the situation and facts as they were.

Was it heroic? No.

Was it realistic? Now that was the real question.

Maybe the heroes of the Galactic Alliance would have found some way to cling to the ideals of the New Jedi Order, espousing resistance at the cost of all else. For Shoma, there were limits. Degrees of survival that he was prepared to accept if it favored the greater good.

The greater good.

What an ubiquitous name for the lesser of two evils.

Now the question remained: Would there be anyone on Eriadu willing to entertain that line of reasoning?

 

[Varian Alaric]

Location| Eastern Redoubt, Sector Four, Eriadu
Objective| Objective I
Allies| [member="Marriskcal Lati"] | [member="Racosidae"]
Nearby Allies| [member="Konstantin Makarev"]

Equipment| 2x Lightsabers (crimson), RAKGHOUL Armor
Status| Determined

Primat wasn't familiar with factories what so ever. On his home of Tamora, their was only one industrialized city...and it had no factories of any sort, as at imported materials and operated solely on green energy. Tamora was more of a rural, farming world...something that was vastly different than the heavy industry planets within the Galaxy. First Order planets such as Skye did have a good multitude of factories however you didn't see them often. Eriadu, on the other hand, was an entirely different story. It was a factory world, with thousands upon thousands of factories littering the surface of the world, a world which at one time...might have been a beautiful world of green and wildlife. That time, however, was now long passed. Replaced by the greed of industrial development. Thus, Primat wasn't much of a fan of this world. Nor the people, primarily due to their habits of polluting this planet without remorse.

The sky was grey and dark with a heavy prevalence of smog in it, which reflected in the dark and acidic soil before. If Primat's helmet was off right now, he would have found it hard to breathe due to the prevalence of smog. Especially considering he hardly spent any time at all on any planets with prevalent and a large amount of industrial development. As soon as he had stepped off of the shuttle, he had immediately found it hard to breathe which had immediately prompted him to put on his helmet. At least when he had his helmet on, he could properly breathe now. Even if it was still a bit smoggy with the air filtration systems in the suit, he was happy that he could at least...breathe without having a coughing fit now.
--------------------
Primat was glad to be alongside Marriskcal again, he enjoyed her company profoundly and she seemed to bring a carefree and pleasant attitude and atmosphere to most matters. However, today, it wasn't as pleasant of an atmosphere. Ever since Praesitlynn the two of them had been more distinct towards each other. They weren't mean or cold to each other, they just...didn't connect as well anymore. Primat still couldn't stop his thoughts from wandering to seeing the dead body of Varas, or her blood on his hands from the illusion in that tomb. Since then, he had lived with infrequent night-terrors of her dying...and every single time, it had been his fault. He wanted to talk with somebody about it, but he didn't know how to.

He didn't know who to talk to it about. Definitely not Varas, or at least he didn't want to worry her with anything. He didn't want to bother Marris about it...but the two had talked about personal matters before-hand, so maybe it wasn't too bad. Maybe he could ask The Guard as he called the Praetorian Knight.

Primat's glacier blue eyes watched the AT-HAT nearby arm it's guns, and fire a volley of beautiful glowing purple laser volleys towards the bunker. Within an instant, the bunker had exploded in a rain of concrete, burnt durasteel, and the ashen remains of the dead stormtroopers who had tried and failed to break into the Bunker. If he had to admit anything about it, that was actually quite beautiful...in a destruction sort of way. Primat turned his head to the right, facing both Marr and the other Ren, Racosidae. He had never met her before, though something about her gave him the frights. He had heard rumor of her being an energy vampire, and he hoped those rumors were wrong. But, at least he would get to know her some as a person as they fought together. "You guys ready to go in?"

 

[Dirk Bannahan]

Location: Eastern Redoubt, Sector Four, Eriadu
Objective I
Allies: [member="Marriskcal Lati"] | [member="Primat Ren"]
Nearby Allies: [member="Konstantin Makarev"]
Equipment: Violet Lightsaber, Hold-out Blaster, and Blue Armorweave Cape
Morale: Neutral

There wasn’t much Rae could offer her “compatriots” on the journey there. Needless to say she could taste the various push and pulls of the two in the air, each brimming in a vigorous way that could only be chalked up to one all encompassing thing: hormones. A sadist would find some way to torment them both over the strangeness of it all -especially since they were more or less killing machines.

But the diminutive Ren couldn’t complain.​

Finally, she was on an assignment where she wasn’t hitting the frontline in a auxiliary ship, and instead working with what were supposed to be peers. That certainly had to count for something.

Completely coincidental as her fellow Ren, Primat, was wondering whether or not Rae was an Force Vampire, the girl opened her mouth slightly and licked the bottom of her teeth with the tip of her purple tongue, flicking in such a way that made her canines look just that more prominent.

No, it couldn’t be.​

She replied indifferently, meaning she was in a great mood for what was usual. “Yeah, locked and loaded.” Those twin orbs of violet bounced off with a quick eye-roll.

 

[Progflaw99]

Location: Phelar Port
Objective: II. Encourage Support
Nearby: [member="Shoma Ike"] | [member="Jomasom Leuf"] (?)

石橋叩いて渡る。​

"Tap the stone bridge before crossing"​

​

Time was neither friend nor the enemy, to view time so definitive was folly. Odile Kimura had seen it first hand on his home world of Atrisia and other worlds across the galaxy - foresight was not a common trait among the governments and peoples of the galaxy, be they human or not. The foreboding sense of danger hadn't left his side since his departure from Kansai Province, equal measures apprehension over leaving his home and anxiety over the unknown.

Long ago the former policeman had discovered that the world was painted not in black and white as some philosophers and pragmatists seemed to suggest but rather equal parts, some overlapping. The world was painted in black and white however what that meant for the man was significantly different than the mere words on the surface. Eraidu, however a world painted in black and white was stained in a deep blush of red. Odile had not been present for the tragedy which had unfolded upon the surface of Eraidu but had read every publication chronicling the incident, both written by the First Order and otherwise. *Nothing is ever black and white. Nothing.*

It was a piece of why today he found himself in the presence of none other than the Crown Prince, [member="Shoma Ike"]. He too held reservations about the First Order's return to Eraidu, apprehension as the task ahead of them seemed near insurmountable. *One step at a time.* he thought, the message of an old Atrisian proverb reverberating in his mind.

"Ishibashi tataite wataru." he said quietly under his breath.​

​

Its literal translation spoke towards tapping the stone of a bridge before crossing. Neither were bridges of the First Order or much elsewhere in the galaxy made of stone, nor would one tap them before crossing. Advantages in construction technology had long since made irrelevant but the phrases remained. It meant that there was importance to advancing slowly, to think carefully and critically about what the task at hand was and not to rush. The weight of the project set before them did not escape Mr. Kimura, nor likely the Crown Prince and yet they had decided to try. Better to take action and fail than to do nothing at all.

​

 

[Auld]

Eraidu, Sector 9
Objective 2: Instigate, Agitate, Annihilate
Allies: Opposition
Enemies: The First Order

This world once faced genocide from the great white menace out of the Galactic West. Now their red banners once again threatened to ensnare this world in the oppression of the one these fanatics called Supreme Leader, whose government seduced the masses with promises of protection, enlightenment, and so called high society.

Still didn't stop them from glassing the planet the very moment things turned south for the people here. Most of them hadn't forgotten.

It was these vengeful masses that Auld hoped to sway, and it was very hard thanks to the overwhelming evidence. So it seemed to pay off to assemble and arm local resistance groups working under the Jedi Reformation. Training an army in time was ridiculous, nor was it needed. All she needed to do was give a few certain cells and radical elements the venom to reach out and strike once the Space Fascists reared their plasteel wearing faces. Deep down, she could not care an iota about this world or its struggle, nor the supposed valiant efforts of the Reformation.

All she wanted was to watch the Imperial flags burn.

Smiling contently while hefting a sniper rifle in a big briefcase, Auld made her way toward Phelar Port, expecting to find some fat and juicy targets to ping with her downright avarice toward the living condition.

 

[Mellifluous Magenta]

Thrall Chandana Kay
Post 1
Objective: 1
Location: Eastern Redoubt, Sector Four
Equipment: F-11D Blaster Rifle, Hekler’Kok LA-1 Light Armor, Black Balaclava, NADIR P-SERIES Combat Knife, Vibroblade w/ Mono-molecular Edge, 2 Flash-bang Grenades
Allies: [member="Racosidae"], [member="Konstantin Makarev"], [member="Primat Ren"], and [member="Konstantin Makarev"]

There was more than one way to skin a tooka, and that old, home-grown adage seemed more than relevant given the multibranched nature of the assault against the underground Eriaduan ultranationalist-held fortress. After all, the stormtrooper corps and their ilk were too valuable to solely compose the first waves of an assault against the rotary-blaster cannon lined trenches and walls of the fortress, which seemed to discharge an unending amount of blue and green death into the exposed assault lines of the First Order.

Fortunately, that was why the auxiliary were sent as well.

It was rarely explicitly stated or even acknowledged by the high-ranking generals of the First Order, but the true purpose of the auxiliary laid in the fact that they were useful when the strategists were out of ideas. For one, the auxiliary made for excellent meat shields. Each soldier was easily replaceable and the population from which they were drawn was nigh-infinite, as a side effect of First Imperial justice system. However, given the relaxed standards for entry and conscription into the auxiliary, the tactics, weaponry, and personnel utilized within the auxiliary were diverse and alien, which gave them a level of creativity that was sorely lacking within the uniformity of the conventional branches of the armed forces.

If anything, the auxiliary could be utilized when a curve ball was needed.

However, no curve balls seemed to be in play for the assault. By all indication, this was a by-the-book offensive operation and there didn't seem to be much room for creativity or individual initiative. In essence, the mandate was to follow orders to the letter or get court-martialed.

As the monstrous AT-HATs blew gigantic holes within the hostile bunkers, stormtrooper and auxiliary infantry forces advanced upon each objective under heavy enemy fire. For now, Chandana and her squad were tasked with providing suppressing fire for the advance, until orders arrived for them to charge as well. However, if the errant and uneasy comm chatter was any indication, it seemed that the operation was to be supported by a small group of the mysterious force knights. For the diminutive thrall, this was a welcome, yet chilling development. From firsthand experience, she knew just how much the actions of even a single witch-knight could alter the momentum and course of a battle. However, the costs of their dark magics were ever-imprinted within her mind. There was the looming threat that if she were gruesomely wounded, then her life essence would be assimilated to power a dark spell of some kind, if her worth was judged better dead, than alive.

Quite simply, the only option was to avoid getting shot.

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Praetorian Initiate
Objective I
Equipment | Mk. I RAKGHOUL Semi-Powered Battle Armour, Vibrodaggers, Lightsaber (blue) & Training Lightsaber (red; synthcrystal), DE-39 Maser Rifle, Throwing Knives, C-25 Fragmentation Grenades
Location | Eastern Redoubt, Sector Four, Eriadu
Allies | First Order, [member="Primat Ren"], [member="Racosidae"] (with), [member="Konstantin Makarev"], [member="Chandana Kay"] (nearby)
Status | Ooooohhhh, shiny

[SIZE=11pt]It was one of the rare times where Marriskcal has yet to don her helmet and seal her battle armour, balancing it between the crook of her arm and her hip as she watched debris of duracrete and durasteel flew into the air. Her hair was bound into a loose messy bun and if anyone took longer than a glance at her features, they would be able to discern that the blonde has not been resting well from the shadows around her eyes. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Like her brother, she too has her own sequences of nightmares since their assignment of Praesitlyn, a constant insidious reminder of her perceived faults. It had made her question herself constantly and made her unusually timid when it came to her usual unrepentant show of affection towards her brothers and sisters. Despite still feeling strangely fragile and unsure of herself, Marriskcal forged on with her usual lively tenacity.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Ready–” How did the quote from the holomovie go about it again? “–to kick ass and take… er names?” The effect was probably slightly ruined by the hesitation and the query-like inflection at the end of her statement. The initiate wrinkled her nose. “What does ‘taking names’ even mean?” Civilians were so weird about everything sometimes. Their notions of romance, battles, and honour. It was all so dramatised, rose-tinted and shaped for their delicate sensibilities. But even though she voiced her musings, Marriskcal was not seeking for an answer. It was merely a custom that she has developed from her prolonged exposure to her mentor’s reticent ways.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]She looked to her fellow Ren, blinking in open curiousity when she saw a purple tongue flicking out from between her sister’s lips. While she could not place her race, them being kin were enough of a reason for Marriskcal to be intrigued by the other. The fact that the other petite female looked closed to her own age only made her all the more determined to make the attempt. In a way, Racosidae was fortunate that the current Marriskcal was tempered by the events that transpired within the ancient tomb. For instead of skipping right up to where the other was standing and overwhelming her with cheer, the blonde stepped up beside her instead, offering her an affable grin and a light wave of her fingers in greeting.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Hi! I look forward to making your acquaintance. My name is Marriskcal, but as that can be a mouthful, feel free to call me Marr.”[/SIZE]

 

[Graf's Archive Account]

Major Dorean Primulus, Stormtrooper Corps​

Equipment: Senior Officer Combat Uniform - Heavy Blaster Pistol​

Location: Sector 3, Eastern Redoubt, Eriadu​

Status: Objective I - Bunker Busting​

​

​

​

Despite the unsettling amount of hidden anti-aircraft emplacements throughout the city, deploying the troops of the 338th Stormtrooper Heavy Assault Battalion had by far been the easiest part of the battle, the numerous landing craft having reached the LZ with minimal casualties. The plan of attack had been laid out for the major when he arrived in the now-assembled forward command, holographic units dictating the known positions of both his men and those of the insurgents.

First and foremost would be dealing with an annoyingly-strong shield that recently sprung up right after they landed, gathered intelligence told them that a power generator had been detected underground about five blocks over, destroying or capturing it would take down the shield and have the added effect of disabling a good chunk of their AA coverage.

Next would be the deployment of half a company of Imperial jumptroopers to flank the enemy and capture strategic buildings while the main force of stormtroopers pushed the frontline towards the capitol building. Concurrent with both phases, artillery batteries would need to be set up in the nearby park to ensure fire support for both his divisions and those of Lieutenant Colonel Makarev's.

Major Primulus finished briefing his captains on the plan, the red-pauldroned stormtroopers acknowledging his orders before leaving the command post to relay them to their own subordinates. The uniformed officer stepped away from holoprojector for a moment, glancing around the post to see if the technicians were too busy with their own work to catch him producing a silver flask from the confines of his uniform and taking a quick sip from it.

He savoured the taste of the expensive whiskey, longing for another drink, as he returned to gazing at the battlefield overview. He activated the integrated communicator, leaning forward slightly towards the table, "Aurek Company, Cresh Company; begin your procurement of the power generator, you may advance when ready. Besh Company, keep the rebels busy along the frontline, comm-in if they begin diverting reinforcements to the western part of Section Three. Hail Sieger!" Dorean growled, sitting down and making himself comfortable as the show began.

[member="Primat Ren"] | [member="Racosidae"] | [member="Konstantin Makarev"] | [member="Chandana Kay"] | [member="Marriskcal Lati"]​

 

[Seto Du Couteau]

Seto Du Couteau, Ren
Equipment: FO-07K Multi-purpose Assault Armor | TCB-42 Infiltration Droid "Spot"
Location: Sector 4 Sewers, Eastern Redoubt, Eriadu
Status: Objective I - Infiltration and Trap Setting

Hate often becomes word overused, and while in the great sea of emotions it always generated the most turmoil (next to possibly love), many of times the word itself gets tossed around like one would skip a rock on water. It bounced and skipped across the surface and to only miss its mark and never go as far (or too far) as thrower orginally intended.

With that said though, Seto hated sewers.

Not that such opinion was news worthy, or a developed secret, but Seto often found himself hating the most strangest things in life. His droid ahead responded with a beep in Seto's comm piece. Well at least someone's happy. If droids felt happiness, honestly Seto was still dubious on such a prospect. But such thoughts and discussions were meant for another time and definitely for a far better location. No contact and the droid had already opened yet another hatch, a good report and he hoped more to continue.

The aspirant Ren took his mission with a particular fervor one would associate with attempting to eat rather disgusting food dish. And on a relative note, his suit's filtration system worked tiresomely to keep the offending smells away from Seto's nose but all the same he doubted he would be able to eat anything at all for the next several hours.

His steps quiet as he pushed himself further through the sewers, the darkness around him concealed his approach and the Force allowed him to see roughly the path ahead of him. The ground around him shook, as no doubt the battle above raged on as the First Order siege weapons barred down on the bunkers and other heavy fortifications that dared to stand in the way of the First Order military might.

He of course offered a silent prayer to those above him that headed into the thick of the fight that no doubt would cause serious damage and causalities. Prayer to who? Just the craziness that we call a galaxy. Seto grimaced as more shakes continued to unsettle the sewer around him.

As the First Order pushed onward, no doubt the hostiles only option to retreat and to carry on the fight would be underground. Unfortunately for them, Seto patiently waited for those poor souls. His sabers remained in his palms, but off as he quickly got himself into position. He forced opened doors and kept himself wary of traps, he intended for full shock and terror for these hostiles.

[member="Primat Ren"] | [member="Racosidae"] | [member="Konstantin Makarev"] | [member="Chandana Kay"] | [member="Marriskcal Lati"] | [member="Dorean Primulus"]

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Spoiler: Lucky One

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=73QzQYN8FtE​

Location: Phelar Port
Objective: 2 - Garner Support
Equipment: [ the look ] [ lightsaber ] [ hololink ]
Interacting With: [member="Odile Kimura"]

The youth barely caught what the man said.

Lost in his own brooding, the teen did a double take as there was a delayed instant in which he heard it, but had to process it. When he had internalized what the man had said, the boy thought about it another moment before uttering,"So desu ne."

The metaphor had a number of possible applications. Not the least of which could be drawn between the Atrisian Commonwealth and the First Order. And still here he was, trying to act the part and play the same role as Natasi had in the Atrisian negotiations.

Had the Grand Moff similar ambitions as to averting military action? He wasn't certain he would ascribe such noble intentions to the woman, but he had to admit he was influenced by his own Galactic Alliance background.

Even then, there was much about the deal with the First Order than went contrary to his perception of the Dosuum government. His remaining in power being just one of them.

In the end, good and evil were distinctions of convenience. And what remained was merely the pragmatic instinct of survival.

Tapping bridges, indeed. "Aikawarazu," the teen uttered, issuing the familiar idiom in reply. Glancing up, the boy put on his usual political smile as a large Herglic came into view.

The alien was one of the corporate czars who were moving lommite out of Eriadu. And their best potential connection to influencing the politics at work in the background. "Mister Gutspar, thank you for agreeing to meet with us," the youth offered, giving a bow toward the massive xenoform.

Smile and wave. Smile and bow.

Ever the same.

 

[Jomasom Leuf]

Objective: 2
Post: 2
Location: Phelar Port
Allies: [member="Shoma Ike"], [member="Odile Kimura"]

After a fruitful meeting with Eradui manufacturing - more productive than he even imagined - he stood upon the balcony of one of the VIP offices with the Lile Tull, the CEO, smoking cigarras and drinking an early glass of whisky. But once the pollution became too overwhelming, he bid the fellow businessman adieu and took a limousine speeder over to Phelar Port to meet with an Atrisian delegation.

While other gentlemen of commerce would be checking their datapads or reading the latest business news from HNN, Jomasom stared out of the transparisteel window. Exploration still captivated him, even nearing the middle of his life - or middle age, if his smoking caught up with him. He never grew tired of travel, of study, of collecting and occasionally discarding.

After sliding out of the speeder in a pencil-thin black suit, Jomasom approached the Crown Prince and his entourage. Like the Atrisians, Captain Leuf had the same apprehension about his own future with the FIrst Order, but under very different circumstances.

Still they could all stand to gain something from today’s series of meetings.

“Is it always so dark on this planet?” he asked in a loud voice one that mimicked a crowd-pleasing circus ringleader more than a shrewd businessman. “For such a prime location in the galaxy, it’s positively funereal. Very different from the hopeful and inspiring architecture of Jar’Kai.”