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Dominion Specters of the Past | RTL Dominion of Andelm IV

Voice of the Outer Rim

Guest
V

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The Sanrafsix Crisis, Part II

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< for Agents, Operatives, and Spies - Inflitration >


Armed with valuable intelligence recovered from the slavers on Kirdo III, ORION turns a lucky break for the League into an effective upper hand over their shadowy enemy - a new slavers guild nefariously known as Eclipse.

Triangulating the data has uncovered the location of a potential slaver base hidden deep in the forested mountains of Andelm IV, far from the prying eyes of the planet’s council and the criminal organizations who vie for control. Together with the illusive Jedi Specters, ORION prepares a high-stakes search-and-seizure operation to obtain vital intelligence.

On paper, the mission is textbook, but things are always different on the ground. Extreme caution is required, and discretion is paramount.

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< for Rescuers, Peacekeepers, and Diplomats - Ground Zero >


Tensions between the crime lords who rule over the planet have reached its breaking point, requiring once again the immediate intervention of the Rimward Rangers and Rescue Service.

Andelm City is up in arms as two local crime syndicates come to blows. In a botched attempt to send a message, a dirty bomb is detonated near the Trade League's embassy, killing dozens of civilians and sparking a wave of civil unrest across the city proper. The people threaten to riot, demanding that Andelm’s governing council stand up to the criminal empires who have bullied them for decades.

Unable to keep the peace much longer, Councilwoman Tiphella Maddox makes an executive decision to contact her allies in the Rimward Trade League. The Rangers and Rescuers answer their call for help, spearheading the operation in a joint effort to quell the uprising and aid the people.

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< for the Shady, the Shadows, and the Self-Interested - Tell Your Own Story >


Andelm IV has been passed through the hands of many syndicates who bribe the planet’s council into complacency. While this makes cooperating with external powers like the Trade League a tedious task, the rampant corruption on Andelm is perfect for shady spacers looking to make a quick Cred.

Andelm’s spaceport is a massive hotbed for smugglers, traders, and mercenaries, while the capital remains open despite the recent bombing and social outcry against the council. Beyond the turmoils of civilization, massive forests and beetle caverns attract explorers and those looking for a place to lay low.

Whatever calls you to Andelm IV, free to explore your own original objective.
 
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ARTIFICER + JEDI
RIMWARD JEDI COALITION

A N D E L M

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Kurayami and Mishel landed at the designated point and had gone on foot for quite some time. Mishel had messaged a colleague, or at the very least someone, Alessandra Creed Alessandra Creed knew back in the Confederacy. Taiia Locke Taiia Locke was the colleague, and the Jedi Master inquired if she knew anything about Andelm and if she could gather up information regarding any old Confederacy sites that the RTL could use to its advantage. The follow-up to that being, if not - could Mrs. Locke provide assistance to Mishel and Kurayami, along with RTL agents in ensuring this operation went as smoothly as possible?

Discretion and caution had been advised to Mrs. Locke just before Mishel sent off the communique. Andelm's forested mountains provided a rather difficult bit of terrain to navigate. Difficult but not impossible, kneeling down beside the trunk of one of the trees. The brunette quietly opened up the small gauntlet on her left wrist and brought up the holo projection of where the base was in relation to where she and Kurayami were.
"Shouldn't be too far now," whispered the Tygaran who was part of several agents, operating within the area.

If the RTL were going to get ahead of these slavers, then this operation was indeed vital. She handed Kurayami a pair of binocs,
"get a look around. Hopefully, there isn't much in the way of patrol up around here."


Rhiza Dural Rhiza Dural | Mira Quinn Mira Quinn | Kurayami Bloodborn Kurayami Bloodborn | Open to Interaction

 
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Xam's breath rasped in his helmet inside the armored vacsuit. He didn't care for how it felt, but that was how it had to be in situations like this. The Development Corps wasn't exactly one for wearing armored spacesuits, but this was a dirty bomb. What insanity was that? His eyes darted to the radiation meter strapped to his wrist, watching the meter slowly rise, millimeter by millimeter.

"This sucks," a voice rasped through the comm next to him and Xam grunted in agreement. "What sort of bantha-crazy syndicate sets off a dirty bomb to send a message?"

"A vicious one," Xam replied flatly, his Sullustan accentuated by the communicator. "New Horizons Shipping Combine wreaked havoc on here."

"Before the Lux Astras revealed themselves," the Pa'uan said shaking his head sadly. "Greedy bastards. What else can you expect from a Core world corporation?"

"Not much," Xam agreed, assessing the damage ahead of them beneath the hull of the RRS Endurance. "You know your history as well as you. Before we broke their fleet on the Five Veils, LACA and the Combine squeezed nearly three-quarters of the total wealth from this world."

"By the Force," his assistant said, shaking his head. "We should have acted sooner."

"You can say that again," Xam replied with a shrug. "But with the Final Dawn in Seswenna and the Corporate Authority pushing in the Five Veils Route, we didn't have the ships to spare."

There was a bitterness in his words and a churning of guilt, but there wasn't much he could do. He was an administrator and a project manager. An engineer. Occasionally a brawler, at least in his younger days. But that didn't mean anything in the scale of battle fleets.
 

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Kurayami had forgone the armored flightsuit this time in favor of his old Katarn MK III Night Ops armor. The DC-17m was carried in one hand and the backpack contained the parts to swap out for the sniper config if necessary and extra ammo for each config. So probably ten extra per setup, should be way too much to get them through the mission in all honesty.

Discretion was the whole reason he had selected this particular armor and loadout, stealth armor for a stealth op just made sense and the fact that he could knock out some targets at range if need be could certainly be useful. The terrain was indeed difficult, but that was a double edged sword, while harder for them to pass it also gave them more options for cover and approaches. He knelt down next to Mishel behind the tree as she checked the map for their position. "Good, I'm not against a nice hike but this has gotten a bit ridiculous." He knew that she wasn't the only agent in the area, but they were working as a single element within the larger group.

Taking the binocs from Mishel he scanned the area ahead not seeing any guards he lowered the electrobinoculars and shook his head.
"Couple empty guard towers no patrols that I could see. Either they are between shifts or they don't staff every single tower at the same time."

 

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If it weren’t for the cacophony of absolute, unfettered chit going down all across Andelm, Mira might have enjoyed the temperate nighttime atmosphere of the forest. The soft rustling of the breeze, the occasional call of an owl— the piercing SNAP of a stick beneath one of the operative’s boots.

The Specter snapped her eyes to the culprit, eliciting a swift “My bad!” whispered over comms. The Corellian rolled her eyes, flashing a look to Rhiza Dural Rhiza Dural . Mira preferred to work solo for exactly this reason - any feth-ups on the job were hers to own, and pay for if necessary. Out here though, any one of these agents could slip and cost the League their precious intel. It didn’t sit well with her.

She was glad that a veteran operative was by her side. An inquisitor of sorts in the Ashlan Crusade, if she remembered correctly. Dossiers weren’t much her style, but a Zygerrian Jedi from all the way across the galaxy wasn’t someone you just looked over.

Neither was Lossa Aureus Lossa Aureus , the poor kid. Mira wasn’t sure she knew her saber’s emitter from the pommel, but she made an effort to take it easy on her. Missions like these were tough enough without a hard time from your teammates.

Mira cast a glance back to the Padawan, her eyebrow raised curiously.

“How ya doing back there, kid?”


 

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Location: Andelm IV, Forest
Equipment: Danger Jacket, Outfit, Mix and Match Harness, Discreet Hearing Enhancer - Left Ear, Long Handled Double Lightsaber, Concealed Sling Bag
Tags: Rhiza Dural Rhiza Dural Mishel Mishel Kurayami Bloodborn Kurayami Bloodborn Mira Quinn Mira Quinn OPEN

Her eyes shut tight as a twig snapped beneath her foot.

She'd been messing with a strap across her thigh when the foot had come down without thought behind it. Even a dancers grace wouldn't have been able to save her from that folly.

She touched her throat, tapping the comm swiftly with an apologetic My bad to everyone present.

Unsure still how she got swept into what she figured was a black ops team for her visit to Andelm IV. Her original reason being to see if someone needed a cargo haul run to test out her handiwork.

And maybe see if she couldn't jury rig a magnetic clamp to the hull of the ship for said cargo haul.

Whether right place and time, or the inverse, she was here now and she was still struggling to fathom the idea. Mira looked back to her, brow raised and question posed, she couldn't help the small sigh that escaped.

"I'm here. Haven't ever walked in the woods after dark. Adjusting, I guess." Tone cool and low but not as snappish as she felt.

Walking the streets by lamplight was easier than trying to navigate the winding paths in a moonlit forest. Let alone trying to avoid the force-forsaken amount of fallen branches around them.

She was also doing her best to not wheeze like a charred smokestack with all the mountain walking. Trying to keep quiet with a hand fidgeting at the hidden bag beneath the jacket awkwardly.

"Be nice, to have some, mechanical legs, right now." She grumbled, finding the side access pocket to her bag beneath the jacket and squeezing her hand inside blindly.

 



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Location: Andelm IV
Objective: infiltrate Eclipse
Tags: Mira Quinn Mira Quinn Lossa Aureus Lossa Aureus Mishel Mishel Kurayami Bloodborn Kurayami Bloodborn


It felt strange not to have Eleri with her, four years the young woman had been by her side, but right now she was off on her own, no longer a padawan and now a Rimward Jedi Knight, the beautiful Zeltron had earned every bit of her knighthood and would be a useful addition to the fledgling jedi organisation.

SNAP

A sound came from behind them and she caught the eyes of Mira Quinn Mira Quinn with a light smirk.

"Be nice, to have some, mechanical legs, right now."

"And I am sure that robot legs would be much quieter in the woods." The Spectre added casually then looked at the padawan. "You are too tense, trying to be utterly silent in a world that is rarely utterly silent. Allow yourself to relax and instead of trying to walk through the environment, become part of it." She smiled, there was no benefit getting annoyed at every little slip up and pushing the girl more into her nerves as they approached their objective.

Rhiza's head snapped up as the wind picked up through the trees and she sniffed at the air, there was the faint smell of duracrete and engine fumes. "There is something ahead, a road perhaps, or a building, its not on the map so it might be part of this secret base" she crouched low and tried to sense in the force to see if there were people nearby other than her allies, she could feel something but it was faint and could be a mere shadow of someone passing through recently. Whatever it was, they were was the taste of despair in the air, which was far from unusual when it came to slaver facilities. She stood again and relayed her thoughts to her allies.

 
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IMPERIAL + DIPLOMACY
RIMWARD TRADE LEAGUE

A N D E L M

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"We need crowd control, now!" Shouted Ariel as she disembarked the transport she wore light armor as her boots reached the ground. "Dispatch the guard, keep the civilians out of the radiation, and clear the skies - nothing moves or flies unless authorized, and right now the only thing permitted are the guards and emergency vehicles." Quick to take control of the situation, Ariel directed her forces to set up a command center as close as possible without being exposed to radiation. Whether or not Councilwoman Maddox would be en route to meet with her, wouldn't matter. Andelm was plunging into chaos, and chaos needed order so that people could feel safe and secure.

The guards were more or less somewhere between the more 'tactical' police units and light infantry. "Once the Ranger Corps are on the ground, route them to me here, or have them establish contact - same with the Rescue Services." Ariel wanted to be sure that coordination took place between everyone involved in aiding Andelm. "Anyone else who shows up on behalf of the RTL have them radio in, so we can coordinate our efforts." Ordered the Dosuunian-raised Galidraani who moved to help set up the command center's tent as units with the label "Victorian Guard" rushed to act as a crowd control unit moving civilians behind barricades and aiding those rushing in to assist with search and rescue efforts.

Once the tent was set up, Ariel continued with orders, "I want more information on these crime lords and their organizations." If she had to, she would bury them herself. It wouldn't have differed much from the Reclamation Campaign wherein she took Sith-loyal Dosuunians and dispatched each and every one of them back to their makers. She'd do the same on Andelm, perhaps a step further if necessary, and decimate entire family lines to ensure that this dirty bomb didn't happen again. A map projected out from a small holodevice on a nearby table, Ariel stepped close as others moved around completing the command center's quick setup. "Let's establish a reunification center here, quick triage and infirmary over here," highlighted Ariel on the projection with her hands as she manipulated it.

"Equipment here, all of it here, I'll have medical ships here soon enough." Placing her hands on her hips, the brunette took a moment to simply breathe. There was a lot to take in here, and a lot of work that needed to be done, and quickly at that.


Xam Jubb Xam Jubb | Open to Interaction

 

Jun Chiyo

Guest
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Location: Andelm IV | Objective II | Soundtrack: Agents

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Jun’s eyes widened as she and the other Rescuers approached the blast zone. ‘Ground zero’, she heard one of them call it. At the time, she thought it was a rather strange thing to say. Now that she could see for herself just how much damage had been done, however, ‘ground zero’ seemed to be an understatement.

She tried to stay focused, to keep her eyes open for anyone in need of healing or medical attention, but the nerve-wracking ticks from Xam Jubb Xam Jubb ‘s radiation meter kept Jun on edge.

“Xam?” she asked, her voice patching through the team’s comm channel.

“Have you seen anything like this before?”

For his own sake, she hoped he’d never had the misfortune of cleaning up the aftermath of a bombing. But part of her was desperate to lean on the expertise of an experienced first responder. Shuklaar Kyrdol Shuklaar Kyrdol certainly seemed like he’d seen his fair share of catastrophes, but she thought it best not to ask - if there was one thing she knew about Mandalorians it was that they didn’t trust Jedi.

She glanced to her handheld scanner, sighing at the lack of active signals in their vicinity. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but to the headstrong Atrisian, no signals meant no survivors. She parted her lips to voice her discontent when a sharp cry stopped her in her tracks.

“H-help… please!” the voice called from up ahead, just on the edge of what Jun knew to be the active radiation zone.

It was the voice of a young boy.

“Xam…” Jun said slowly, flashing the Sullustan a worried look. She remained quiet for a long moment before speaking up again.

“I’ll go,” she offered.



 

ST-70 Luck's Revenge
| Somewhere in the Outer Rim Territories

Emptiness.

Space was vast. Night skies that appeared full of stars hid the vast distances that spread whole swaths of nothing. It was in one of those tranquil, empty pockets that a ship suddenly appeared.

A routine precaution of precise astrogation that was common across most starships, a periodic reversion to normal space-time so that the navicomputer could run comparison checks to confirm the ship's location before continuing on.

The entire process should have taken no more than a minute or two, after which the ship's autopilot would re-engage the hyperdrive and the ship could voyage on.

After five minutes, it was clear that something was wrong.

The boy was slumped against the back bulkhead of the cockpit, no more than a puppet whose strings had been cut. A series of wires snaked along the floor, connecting to the umbilical port that was concealed in the naval.

The body convulsed, the muted sound of a servo motor beginning to come online humming just faintly for a moment, before the afro-headed youngling sat upright. Eyes fluttered open. The cybernetic ocular sensors revealed by unnatural shade of blue that glowed behind the irises. A series of binary scripts were mirrored in the boy's eyes, as the droid's start-up protocols began compiling.

Eventually, the blue light faded, until the masquerade of brown, human eyes replaced it. The eyes blinked several times, as the human-like droid's head rolled along his shoulders. His servoes stretched out his limbs, as his simulacrum programming produced a yawn in response to the sluggish response his onboard systems were registering.

He was only sixty percent charged.

"Tails," the boy uttered, activating the ship's computer. "Why did you wake me up?" the chore boy asked, pulling himself up on his knees before pushing up from the floor.

"Navicomputer error," the computer supplied in reply.

That generally wasn't what you wanted to hear when you were in the middle of nowhere. Especially the middle of nowhere in the Outer Rim.

But then, that was why he was out here.

"Again?" the small droid uttered, shuffling around to the other side of the pilot's chair. Dropping back to the floor, the diminutive chore bot got on its knees before settling back into a w-sit position, leaning forward and rummaging in the underside of the console. Finally, the boy sat back with a box-like object in its hands, turning it over several times as he examined the internal components.

"Tails, repeat back error log."

"First check complete. Second check failed. Third check failed. Fourth check complete. Fifth check failed. Sixth check complete. Seventh check complete. Three of seven checks failed."

The afro bobbed upward. The droid's eyes blinked. Then again.

"Okay. That's... that's bad," the chore bot stated flatly. To have alternated back-and-forth like that, the navicomputer had to be suffering a catastrophic malfunction.

Chucking the navicomputer core over his shoulder, the droid discarded it into the bowels of the ship. Standing upright, the chore bot pulled himself into the pilot's seat. Pulling his legs up into the chair, the droid stood on his knees and leaned across the pilot's console.

"Tails, connect on port cresh-nine-five," the droid remarked. The brown irises glowed blue, the irises mirroring a waterfall of binary as the chore bot connected his droid brain with that of the ship's.

It was disorienting. Not as bad as the first time he'd done this, but even still the sense of disembodiment was coupled with a strong vertigo as the boy's sensors were suddenly opened to the ship, as though he were seeing through its eyes or living in its body.

"I'm detecting hyperspace beacons for Svivren... Kirido... Andelm..." the boy remarked, his eyes starting to move at an uncanny rate of speed as he began running the computation analysis on the sensor returns.

"Calculating position relative to Svivren jump vector," the droid uttered aloud.

A minute passed.

"Calculating position relative to Kirido jump vector."

In his mind, the droid was crunching the numbers, transforming the galactic map into a three-dimensional topography full of navigational hazards, established routes, and known approach and exit vectors. A navicomputer needed seven points at a minimum to run the calculations that the chore bot was. Six to verify a galactic position and then a seventh to chart a course.

The droid was running calculations on two additional points. "Calculating position relative to Andelm jump vector," the droid uttered, running a third set of computations for a side-by-side comparison of what seemed the available options that would get them to a spaceport where he could replace the navicomputer.

"Position confirmed. Jump window is shortest to Andelm," the droid remarked aloud, blinking several times as he disconnected and withdrew back into his own body.

He didn't know how astromechs did it. That took a lot of processing power.

With a sigh, the droid propped itself forward to start to manipulate the controls. The jump window was best at two-eight-seven mark nineteen...

Repositioning the ship, the droid manually entered the jump coordinates before pulling the levers back on the hyperdrive.

He'd like to curl back up with the power cable, but with the navicomputer offline -- more to the point, with the navicomputer's safeties off-line -- he'd have to fly on full manual so that he could adjust to any sensor blips before they collided with a comet or a starliner or whatever else might be out there.
 

Shuklaar Kyrdol

CEO of Breshig War Forge Consolidated

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Friendly Units:
Units in Reserve:
Tag(s): Jun Chiyo | Xam Jubb Xam Jubb | Ariel Yvarro Ariel Yvarro

Equipment​



Hours Earlier, aboard the Tra'naur'kad

"Haven't we spent enough time and credits on this already? What? We get paid a little bit better than usual and now you want to start doing charity work? We haven't even signed that New Cov deal yet!" started Aran Netra as he walked in through the door to his office. Shuklaar kept an open office so long as he was in it in the first place.

"They're doing good work, Aran..." he started as he put down the sales report he'd been looking at previously, pausing what he was saying once he saw the look on Aran's face. Knowing Aran well, Shuklaar stopped and glanced at him pointedly as he picked up his mug of shig and took a sip to give Aran an avenue to make his point.

"And they're the only thing keeping the dar'jetii" out here. Do they even want our full suppoer, alor. You and I both know committing at this scale's not the same as sending Davaab every other time they're running operations against the chakaar of the week," said Aran, reminding him of a fact they were both quite aware of; the high running costs of Strill Securities. Financials were a tricky business he left to those haran they were doing. They assured him that things were actually doing quite given the loss of the CIS contract since they'd dissolved.

Shuklaar knew that for Mandalorians, and both Breshig and Strill were still overwhelmingly Mandalorian staffed, paychecks weren't the only thing of import, but they were necessary to live. Jaster's ideas, the ideas that the companies were built on, still very much emphasized the spiritual, emotional and personal growth that almost all Mandalorians belied only conflict could bring about. Especially after what had happened to Breshig, he would be hard pressed to find someone in their Breshig or Strill who would not be moved to help others.

Which was not to say he believed that Aran didn't feel the same way. Aran's approach was different. He was the commander of Strill's ground forces. If the company didn't make money, his men would suffer. Aran was doing what every man in his position would do. Haran, Shuklaar would've done the same thing in his position. Aran just hadn't things together nearly as fast as he'd hoped he would've.


"And you think I haven't thought of that? Tell me, Ara'ika, what don't our burc'ya have and abundance of? What kind of contracts have we been taking recently? Helping the League helps our bottom line, let's us give these people a chance at a better life and more importantly, does it all in a way old Jaster would approve of, It's everything we've wanted to do since the end of the CIS contract, vod, and it's been staring me in the face so long I'm surprised you or Nyles didn't suggest it," he said, keeping Aran's gaze the entire time.

Aran inclined his head, obviously in thought. He raised his eyebrows, sucked his teeth and then retuned his attention to Shuklaar, "And this is why you're the got'alor, alor."


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Shuklaar was no stranger to devastation. No one in the company, haran, not a single Mandalorian from Breshig was. He wagered he could say the same about just about every Mandalorian who'd been alive during the Sith Empire's invasion. Breshig, Mandalore, these were not the first time he'd seen the devastation wrought by war, genocide and terrorism, and it was by far not the last. Rodia and Naboo were the most recent and worst that he'd borne witness to. It hadn't made him unsympathetic, but like a wound healed over, it didn't hurt like it did for many fortunate enough not to have witnessed as much.

Many assumed because Mandalorians embraced and occasionally cherished conflict that what it wrought was also embraced and cherished. He knew this couldn't be further from the truth for just about every Mandalorian, current and former. Acceptance that it was merely a side effect of one of the galaxy's only constants, was not the same.

Shuklaar glanced the tactical map as their gunships and heavy assault transports screamed in low over the city. The plan, as had been discussed before they'd taken off, was simple. Given that the situation on the ground had changed since they'd launched, Shuklaar raised Aran just to make sure. "Ara'ika, your call, same plan, ad'ika?"

"Elek, alor. I'll take Marev 6 solus and t'ad and establish a cordon. Marev cuir will set up aid stations. You, Rag'ika and Kyramud just get those survivors to us. If any di'kute get any ideas there's plenty of firepower," said Aran. Over the Manda link, their tactical map adjusted as Aran marked planned positions. Shuklaar did little more tham glance. Aran more tha knew what he was doing.


"Oya Manda!" called Shuklaar over the comms, an enthusiastic chorus of replies came in from Aran, his officers, Ragar and his commandos. Shuklaar returned his attention to the external view out of the gunship, watching intact city scape give way to devastation up close as Mereel brought their gunship in.

"Alor, I'm picking up troop signatures in the drop zone. IFFs are friendly. What do you want us to do?" crackled Mereel's voice over the gunship's intercom. The displays in the troop bay shifted from the exterior view to the gunship's view of said troops. Shuklaar sighed. To hope their time here would be entirely free of friction was naive, but there was no point in turning around and heading home now.

"No one says no to more help, Mereel. Hold this course, the plan's the same," he replied, craning his head to glance in through the open cockpit door. Mereel caught his glance for a moment and then nodded. Though it felt longer, it was only about a minute later that the gunship touched down on it's landing claws and the ventral troop bay door lowered. Ragar and his commandos were out first, fanning out from the gunship before he joined them and wordlessly they continued further into the devastation.

Aran's Trataab'morut IFVs were rumbling out of their transports, forming up into platoons and spreading themselves off among their tasking. Some of his men unloaded medical supplies from their transports to supply the aid stations their
CMD-01 'Gar Cayatr Baar'ur' Combat Medical Droids were setting up. As they made their way in, they lost visual of their vode in the distance. Shuklaar's HUD constantly reminded him of the background radiation till he squelched the audio warning.

"Life signs are weak," announced Ragar Nihut'tyr. The usually stoic rammikad al'verde breaking the silence with an unnecessary announcement was indicative of just how bad it was, and yet, they'd seen so much worse. Shuklaar didn't say anything. What was to be said? He just nodded. in the near distance he could see a Sullustan and what looked to be a jetii. Atrisian, if he was reading her features right. If anyone he'd seen so far screamed 'official', he'd bet his controlling shares in the company that it was that Sullustan.

“H-help… please!” the voice called from up ahead, just on the edge of what Jun knew to be the active radiation zone.

It was the voice of a young boy.
The sound was picked up by their helmets easily. Shuklaar turned to Ragar and motioned for him to follow as theyt both began moving off in the direction of the cry for help as fast as their augmented bodies would let them safely move through the area.
 
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Shuklaar Kyrdol Shuklaar Kyrdol Jun Chiyo Ariel Yvarro Ariel Yvarro

Xam turned his head, shifting his whole body to crane the vacsuit around at his Jedi companion. At the question, Xam realized how old he felt. "Yes," he said at last, looking at a datapad. "Bombings. Earthquakes. Tunnel collapses. Orbital strikes on civilian populations." His words were flat, even considering the sealed atmosphere within the helmet as he spoke, looking down below at the bombing site. His joints and bones ached at the sight, but he glanced back over at Jun and let out a breath.

She may have been a Jedi, but she was still barely more than a Youngling. His voice softened somewhat. "You never get used to it, and there's rarely radioactive fallout, but it's just as horrifying now as the first."

The datapad beeped and Xam studied the display, carefully nodding. the information and he nodded. At the sound of the voice, Xam looked up, studying the young Jedi.

"Go," he said at last. "Keep your vacsuit sealed. Stay next to Shuklaar," he gestured towards the Mandalorians. "Work together- synthesize your Force powers with their technology and never wander off alone. That's how people end up falling through buildings and getting trapped."

"Closest Bacta Words Cruiser is on the way," an assistant said, and Xam nodded. He wasn't sure where Nathan Bloodscrawl Nathan Bloodscrawl had come from or where his resources had come from, but those hospital ships were going to be critical to the mission of the League. "And all Afrits within a single hyperspace jump are having the medical modules installed and will be on their way ASAP."

Engines rumbled through the atmosphere above him and Xam leaned forward, gazing upwards at the ships beginning to fill the sky. "Any word from Ellie Omera Ellie Omera and the Conglomerate of Owls?"

"We've sent messages out, requesting Edonas and the rapid rescue vessels, although we can't promise when they might arrive."

Xam shrugged. "The Rescue Service will have a full task force of Ranites within the hour. With Breshig developing the cordon around the irradiated area and beginning evacuations, it will give us a good place to start on the lengthier rescue ops. How's antirad supplies looking?"

"Not the greatest, at the moment," the assistant replied. "We're gathering all our vessels' stocks aboard and sending them down to Yavarro. Ranger squads are rushing to gather more from across the planet. The Afrits and Bacta cruiser will have us supplied with antirads for decades if need be."

"Radiation cleanup?" Xam wanted to double-check on that, but the fact of the matter was that was a lesser priority at the moment. "We're getting the equipment together, but it will still take several years."

"Not unexpected," Xam agreed, raising electrobinoculars to his eyes. "Focus on immediate needs for now. We can focus on treating any long-term consequences. Seventy-two standard hours is golden window."

Not a lot of time, but this was why the Rescue Service existed. Law enforcement paid the bills, but this was why the Service existed. He could already see a half dozen of the Ranites taking up position over the irradiated zone and lights flickering on among the command station.

"How's that grid coming?" He asked.

"Quickly," the technician said, looking up from the screens. "Coordinating scans from the Service with the Yavarro groups and Mandalorians on the ground."
 
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ARTIFICER + JEDI
RIMWARD JEDI COALITION

A N D E L M

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Rhiza Dural Rhiza Dural | Mira Quinn Mira Quinn | Kurayami Bloodborn Kurayami Bloodborn | Lossa Aureus Lossa Aureus | Open to Interaction
"We'll have to take it easy, Kurayami." If there were no guards in the towers, then either as her friend mentioned there weren't any or, "here's to hoping they're just broke or on rotation as you mentioned." She didn't want to think of anything else, such as, they knew that the RTL were going to show up. As it happened the trek toward the base so far was quiet, tedious if anything. The others were also drawing closer to the base. Passing through the thickly forested area, Mishel stopped again and pushed out with the Force. "I think we've got company, twelve o'clock."

The sound of twigs snapping beneath heavy boots followed by soft conversations, "left or right?"

Once Kurayami had decided, she took the opposite flank with the idea that they would take the patrol out together. Subduing them and dropping the unconscious folk far enough away to not be noticed. "We could go straight in, or see if there's an alternate way - aside from the front door."

 

ST-70 Luck's Revenge
| Orbit of Andelm IV

"Request denied?"

The afro-headed droid just blinked, staring back at the comm unit as though questioning whether his auditory processors were functioning properly (no, seriously, he'd already run a diagnostic: they were operating within normal parameters), whether the galaxy had just lost its gorram mind (spoiler alert: the answer was yes), or whether it was possible that the flight controller on the other end of the comm had misheard him when he'd said the words I am a ship in distress and need to land for emergency repairs.

"All traffic in and out of Andelm IV is restricted. You will reverse course and jump to leave the system immediately."

"Jump to..." The chore bot echoed. The brown irises blinked a second time.

Survey says: this motherkarker done lost his gorram mind.

"Dude. Bruh. Bro. Or whatever the kark nerfherders is calling themselves now, allow me to repeat: I. HAVE. NO. NAVICOMPUTER." Was that perhaps unclear? "I just made a blind jump based on running numbers off the ping to your hyperspace buoy. How the hell you gonna tell me to plot a course after that? Do you have any idea how fething unsafe a manual jump is?"

"ST-70 Luck's Revenge M-12G, you will not deviate from your present course."

The small droid rolled his entire head, along with his eyes, at that come back. "Yeah, sure, man," the chore bot uttered derisively. "I'm not going anywhere."

Which apparently included Andelm IV.

"Joke playin' up in here," Vessels in distress were usually treated much better than this. Sure, it was the Rim and not the Core, but... something about this felt off.

Muting the comm unit, the droid instead spoke to the ship itself. "Tails, run a search of HoloNet news reports. Query: Andelm IV."

"I've completed your search for: Andelm IV HoloNet news. Would you like me to filter your search results by recency? I can also compile a topical index..."

"Select the top three most current articles and download them to me."

It was faster than reading them on a screen. The droid could instead just run the text through his processors, picking apart their content in a fraction of the time it would have taken to read them manually. Let alone indivitually.

Radiological disaster?

Bombing?

Great. He'd just plotted a manual jump right into a motherfething act of terrorism.

At least now the flight controller's lack of empathy was at least starting to make sense. Unfortunately, that didn't change the situation. He was even further from Svivren now than he had been before. There was no way he'd be able to plot that in a single jump. He'd probably need five or maybe even seven jumps to pull that off.

Not pull it off safely mind you, just pull it off.

"ST-70 Luck's Revenge M-12G, you may proceed with emergency landing to docking bay nine. Be advised, rad-shields and envirosuits are required in the LZ. Approach vector and coordinates uploading now."

"Uploading to what? My flight computer's shot," the droid uttered, as the flight controller again demonstrated a remarkable grasp of understanding just what the problem was. Which seemed rather straight forward when one's whole emergency was that they had no flight computer. "Just read me the coordinates out. I'll have to fly her in on manual and hope I don't have a burnout."

"Maybe it's time to invest in a new starship."

The droid blinked again.

Was this motherkarker for real right now? His mouth fell open. Then closed. Then the droid began, "My dude..."

He trailed off there.

This was probably not helping right now.

"...just give me the gorram coords, bruh."
 
Aboard: derelict luxury station

Wearing: Prototype Armor

Armed With: Chiru Rifle (4 clips), Dart Caster (2 clips), Mercenary Slugthrower (3 clips), Nathan's Lightsaber, Stun Grenades (2)

Equipped with:

ICE Breaker (1) Speech Scrambler, Retinal Disguiser, Anti security blade, PSG-8487 View Masker, Electronic Lock picking Kit, Healing Stims (3)

Moya Virtu Moya Virtu walked through the derelict station to the main hangar, where she found the ramp to her old freighter, The Blessing of Loste, extended. She had been seeking out Nathan. She had found him.

She walked aboard, and found him in Laertia's old room, clad in his black biker leathers, staring at pages and pages of drawings. Old posters of Laertia Io Laertia Io from when she had been a traveling magician.

Moya didn't go aboard it unless she had no choice. She had piloted it here, and even that had nearly led to a nervous breakdown to bring it to the station. She hadn't come aboard since.

Moya steeled herself, and walked hesitantly into the pink room with a polka dot pattern. She hadn't changed anything. There was dust on the shelves.

Nathan stared at her, then went back to staring at the posters.

"She looks almost exactly like her mother..." he said quietly. His expression was not grim, but pure misery.

"What's the main difference?" Moya asked.

"The eyes. She's not happy."

Moya sighed. "You noticed, huh?" she asked, leaning against the hull.

"It took me a while to spot it. But we both know why by now."

Nathan held up some drawings from her youth. Drawings of Nar Shaddaa.

"Of all the places to end up. Nar Shaddaa...I sent her from one hell right into another."

"You tried to save her." Moya reminded him

"Do or do not. There is no try..." He remarked bitterly. "Isn't that how the saying goes?"

"You couldn't have known what would happen. Where she would end up."

"Right before Phyre killed me, I had this fantasy. This fantasy of her growing up somewhere safe and warm and bright. Far from war. That was the last thought in my head before Phyre's blade went in. The Hope she would have a better life than what I could give her."

He stood up. He looked at all the dusty photos of Laertia in her magician's costume, photos with Moya. Photos with the rabbits.

It was a knife in his heart, knowing the woman in those photos was worse than dead. Worse still was that she had willingly chosen it.

"What's up?" hs asked.

"Assignment came in from RTL...Slaver Base located on Andelm. They liked your restraint on the Kitonak's homeworld." Moya answered, handing him a datapad containing the details.

Nathan said nothing, except to walk out of Laertia's room and back to the main office of this broken down station, powered by Its proximity to Epica's sun.

Moya followed him back, already getting a panic attack just from seeing this fragment of her past.

She watched as Nathan pulled out some gear from a case she had never seen him use before. He removed a black and red gear with a custom, hooded jacket.

"You should take a break, Nathan. Your mind needs time to rest."

"I can rest when I'm dead." he muttered. "I need my privacy. Go outside."

Moya looked at him sternly. "I mean it, Nathan. After you do this...take at least two days off."

She walked out. Her pet rabbit, Cortosis hopped on the table where Nathan was prepping and sniffed at his hand. Nathan idly petted the creature as he changed into this new armor. He had recovered it a while back at Ession, but hadn't had the nerve to wear it until now.

Nathan went over the intelligence as he chose his weapons...

Present...


He had decided to help out the infiltration team by going ahead of them. He had arrived a few hours earlier

The armor was outdated, but still a damn lot better than what was essentially armored travel clothing.

He had started first with the tower guards, ambushing one of them by teleporting to the top and grabbing him, jamming his silenced slugthrower pistol into the back of his head.

"Scum." Nathan said acidly through a dark crimson helmet-mask that completely obscured his features as he held up a small, tubular device. "Speak into this. Anything will do."

"Feth you!" The slaver hissed.

"Charming to the last." Nathan replied coldly, recording the voice. "Unless you want your brains everywhere, I'd start singing like it's one of those crappy contests you see on the holonet. By the Force, the people of this era have no taste."

"What do you want to know?"

"Traps. Patrol Routes. Callsigns. I will know if you're lying."

The Slaver gestured for his pocket. Nathan pulled out a small paper map, noticed a field of X's, Triangles, and Circles.

"What is this?"

"X's are where the towers are posted in this area..." The Slaver answered. "Circles are where we placed mines. Squares are where we put people manning nests of repeaters."

"Patrols." Nathan growled.

"We got two east, no! Wait! It was west..."

The pistol jammed harder into the neck.

"Now is most certainly not the time for getting confused..."

"East! Definitely east. One north also!"

"Good. When are you expecting Command to contact you?"

"Twice every forty five minutes. One at the half hour mark, another at the forty five minute mark. Next call in is twenty minutes from now."

"Callsigns."

"I'm Rakghoul-Tango. They will call in as Alpha Base."

Nathan put him in a sleeper hold, rendering him unconscious, teleported down with the unconscious Slaver and, disarming him of his weapons and communication, securing him to a tree with his own stun cuffs, then went in the direction of the towers, using the Map to keep aware of the general area of the mines.

He heard commotion, sensing Jedi and approached slowly, holding out his unactivated Lightsaber as a way to identify himself to Mishel Mishel and the others as friendly.

"I had hoped to take care of more of the perimeter guard before your arrival..." he said to her Kurayami Bloodborn Kurayami Bloodborn as he emerged from the Shadows.

"They put mines in these parts. Stun Spores. People are camouflaged, manning repeater nests. Nice little crisscross of firing angles they got set up. And higher ground too. We'll have to hurry. I've taken care of one of the Guard Towers, but there are more to deal with...

Mira Quinn Mira Quinn

Rhiza Dural Rhiza Dural

Lossa Aureus Lossa Aureus
 
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IMPERIAL + DIPLOMACY
RIMWARD TRADE LEAGUE

A N D E L M

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Teams were now well inside ground zero, whilst Ariel had set up a large perimeter helping civilians as they arrived. Ranger Corps and Rescue Services were in the thick of it now, "on three, we'll move her into the ship," ordered Ariel who was on the other side of the hov-gurney. "One, two, three!" She and the others moved the gurney onto one of the medical corvette's ramps. Medical Frigates could be seen in the atmosphere, and anti-radiation equipment was being brought in from smaller shuttles and transports. A member of her team notified her of Shuklaar Kyrdol Shuklaar Kyrdol and their team's arrival.

"Good, RTL needs all the help they can get," commented the Dosuunian-raised Galidraani. Victorian Guards had by then gotten most of the crowd under control, pointing them to different areas where they could receive various services. Ariel still awaited notification on just who the criminal organizations were in the area. The woman needn't wait long as another member of her team approached and motioned for them to speak privately.

Quietly they handed her the datapad. Ariel flipped it on and began to read through the information presented, "good, at least we know who they are, won't be quite as easy to eliminate them, but eliminated they shall be. First, let's get radio links established with the teams out in the field before we go dispatching these criminals." The team member nodded and departed Ariel's side as she headed back to the command center and got onto the radios.

"This is Andelm Central, Yvarro here, representing Primo Victoria - if you lot need anything let us know. We're happy to provide assistance, we've established a perimeter around the impact zone. We've got ships running supplies, antiradiation equipment, medical services, and crowd control is being handled as we speak."
The radio message was likely sent out to those in the zone such as Xam Jubb Xam Jubb and Jun Chiyo along with Shuk. A moment or two later, "Yvarro out."

Releasing the comms, Ariel stepped away from the radio and moved toward the makeshift armory. She could at the very least start picking off the lower-level punks of these organizations, it'd take a lot longer to get to the top but - she planned on making them sweat, anyway. "Pass the data to the RTL, they'll want to know everything they can about these groups." Mentioned Ariel to the same team member as before, just as she grabbed her own equipment, "I'll be back."


Open to Interaction

 

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Location: Andelm IV, Forest
Equipment: Danger Jacket, Outfit, Mix and Match Harness, Discreet Hearing Enhancer - Left Ear, Long Handled Double Lightsaber, Concealed Sling Bag
Tags: Rhiza Dural Rhiza Dural Mishel Mishel Kurayami Bloodborn Kurayami Bloodborn Mira Quinn Mira Quinn OPEN

She frowned at the woman's first comment.

But decided to bite her tongue and spare herself the wasted air of an argument. Her hand found the small self contained bag inside the hidden one, withdrawing a small sealed pouch and opening it.

"Nature sounds aren't exactly my specialty. As for being to tense. I've probably missed my alarms." She grimaced, fishing her hand inside the smaller pouch and withdrawing a
tab and an inhaler.

Awkwardly holding the pouch beneath her arm, she slipped the canteen from the belt and swallowed the tab before capping the canteen and using the inhaler.

A held breath finished with a deep sigh seemed to ease the irritation that was present around her.

Replacing the inhaler inside the pouch as thoughts where shared on their surroundings. Pausing long enough to squint a little ahead.

"Sounds like we are close to where we should be?" Part statement and part question as she looked between the two more experienced women.

The pouch quickly stowed as her shoulders seemed to ease from their earlier tension.

 

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“You’re doing fine,” Mira said, trying not to coat her words in sarcasm.

She could feel Lossa’s nerves, and to be honest, Mira was a bit on edge herself. If it weren’t the piping hot Corellian blood pumping through her veins, she’d probably have needed a stress tab too.

"We could go straight in, or see if there's an alternate way - aside from the front door."

Mira’s eyes narrowed, scanning the forested hills ahead for a better way in than kicking down the main gate. She raised two fingers to the comlink in her ear.

“I’ll take the kid left, try to scout the perimeter. Places like these usually have a drainage system on the cliff face.”

She looked to Lossa and gestured for the girl to stay close. Mira didn’t expect any resistance along the way, but if they were found out because a certain Padawan snapped another stick, she wanted them to stand a chance.

“Stick close, keep your eyes out,” Mira ordered, staying low as she moved forward from the rest of the team.

 
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RRS ENDURANCE
BB-4001X BB-4001X TE-236 TE-236 Jessica Bowers Jessica Bowers Dash Colton Dash Colton BB-610 BB-610 NE-1 Nej Tane Nej Tane

"Captain," a communications tech said, looking up from the flashing communications console. "Ship incoming- no navcomputer."

Vera turned away from the viewport and frowned. There were bags under her eyes and her hair was greasy. Sullust to Kirdo III to Andelm IV without stopping. She didn't want to think about the state of the rations or how well the crew was holding up.

They would do their job to the highest standards of professionalism- she knew that much. After all, this was why they had all joined the Service to make a difference and make the Outer Rim a safer, more prosperous place.

"Roger that," Vera replied. "What's the landing coordinates?" The communications officer read them off and Vera frowned.

"That's in the hot-zone- why are they going there?" That seemed dangerous. Reckless, even.

"It's the only one within easy range," a navigator's mate explained, looking up, "And without requiring complicated maneuvers."

Vera nodded. "Very well. What's the status on our shuttles and pinnaces?"

"All small craft deployed," the response came back, "And all supplies offloaded."

"Inform the relief coordinators we are going off-station," Vera said after a moment and squared her shoulders as she retook her seat. "We will escort the ship down and transfer its occupants to a safe location. Patch me through to the incoming ship."

"Aye, captain," the reply came, and the message was transmitted.

"Luck's Revenge, this is Lieutenant Commander Vera Tillian of the RRS Endurance- we are moving into a parallel trajectory with you- aiming to intersect at thirty thousand meters above the surface and guide you into the designated landing zone. Please relay your ship's status."
 
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Telling him to take it easy was almost an insult and he would have reminded her as such, but in a way she did have a point. He was very straightforward many times in his problem solving approaches even when taking taking the less visible route it was mostly to get him in range to execute the target in a brutally efficient manner. To be fair that is what his training had always been for as a commando was to get in quickly, take care of the objective and get out. By the time they got to step two it was usually hot so something either went sideways during step one or intel had royally karked up during the recon portion. And those were the times they had intel beforehand other than 'Yea the target goes here a lot. So they're probably there. Good luck.' "I agree, if its something else, well that'd just suck."

His mind wandered as the pair continued the extremely boring trek towards the base. That isn't to say that he wasn't aware of how things felt around him, he was well in tune with the Force and used to sensing the changes, even so Mishel's declariation of 'Company twelve 'o clock.' did bring a bemused "Huh. Well then it's only proper to say hi. I'll take left." A Force pull brought the slaver's neck into the iron grip of Kurayami's crushgaunt, just the tiniest amount of pressure was needed to knock the man out given the increased grip strength provided. Anymore and the man would have been dead. He was unceremoniously dropped on top of his friend as Kurayami turned to regard Mishel as though nothing of import had just happened. "Probably best to check for another route. Unless you want a firefight. I'm good with burying as many of these things as we have to to shut their operation down. The more we make them bleed...literally and figuratively, the less likely they will try to establish a ring out here anytime soon."

It was around this point that he heard another response to Mishel, and realized that what he said may well have been transmitted to those friendlies as well. Seems like his record of making a glowing first impression was well and truly intact still.

 

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