Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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What Lurks Below.... | First Order Dominion of Nero

The ship glided through the blackness, having reverted to realspace 15 minutes prior. Now that they were approaching their destination, Cryptolinguistics Officer Emilia Ravel rose from her bunk, where she'd woken from a fitful sleep an hour earlier, and laid awake, trying her best to fall asleep again. As the announcement crackled from the intercom by the door, Emilia swung her legs over the bed, rubbing her eyes and brushing a lock of hair from her face. Standing up, she padded barefoot across the cool metal floor, her nose wrinkling as she sniffed the synthesised air billowing out from the air vent. Padding over to the small closet, she removed her field uniform: black, practical pants, a buttoned shirt, and a dark blue water resistant jacket.

She dressed hurriedly, and removed her backpack, a black bag made of distressed leather. Inside she kept her notebook, pens, pocket radio and portable first aid kit. Her essential items. She completed the ensemble with a practical pair of black shoes that were smart enough but suited for running in. Fully dressed, Emilia stepped out into the narrow hallway, squinting at the bright white lights that lit the length of the corridor. Faintly, the hum of the ship could be heard. Emilia found that it was different for each ship. The way they attenuated and reflected the vibrations depended on both the make of the ship, and the power of the engines. This particular ship echoed with a very low frequency, one that she could feel in her chest as the engines spun up to full power. She leant against the wall as the ship turned to adjust its heading, the gravity wells quickly adjusting to the change in pitch, making sure everything remained level.

With a heavy sigh, Emilia walked up the corridor, her shoes tapping sharply against the polished surface of the floor. Arriving at the cockpit door, she rapped her knuckles and let herself inside. This was a routine mission, something she'd done over and over again in the Navy. It was standard recon really, she would monitor and direct radio communications both on the ground and on-ship while she accompanied the ground team. The First Order was always discovering more and more unique locations, and with the Security Bureau expanding, missions to establish sites for bases and listening posts were becoming even more commonplace. Space travel had an annoying tendency to be boring, however, and as she sat down at her station and switched on her equipment, she found herself wishing that she was doing something a little more interesting.

A ridiculous wish if there ever was one, seeing as the Bureau's idea of 'interesting' usually seemed to involve a lot of life-or-death scenarios, or at least that was her experience of the matter. The fact that she missed that kind of work confused her, and was a fact she was still coming to terms with.

But that was just life, she supposed.

[member="Therran Graush"]
 
The First Order was a large, brooding organization filled with agendas and interpretations of Seiger's will. True, unlike any other empire in history this organization was far more organized in overall purpose. However, there still existed the need to allow a little color and nuance to whatever given situation the loyal troopers, movers, and shakers found themselves within. Such was the case with the set of operations in this sector of space. Different units are tasked with detail specific missions that compound the efficiency of such an expansion of influence.

The Major's purpose today, however, was not one of providing assistance, but stalwartly monitoring the happenings of these various operations to ensure everyone followed the plan. She of course had no jurisdiction or authority to order this or that; she did however possess the far reaching capabilities of monitoring the situation. As usual, the four eyed freak was looking closely for a gap, or a lapse in judgment. Something. Anything. Any excuse to give her lads and lasses down in interrogations some overtime pay.

Thus, from her nondescript location amongst the stars situated near the far reaching nebula on the edge of this nondescript system, sitting in a plain room filled with mundane looking surveillance equipment upon a rather bland looking intelligence frigate holding a lazy holding pattern over this rather lax piece of space, the Major had her legs resting up on a desk, using her data glasses to move the various screens to different areas and highlighting this or that. To an outside observer, the woman was being disgustingly lazy. In reality, nothing could be further from the truth. . .

The captain of her current vessel opened up a number of communication channels and they readied themselves to intercept and record any bit of intel their white gloved hands could squeeze out.

[member="Therran Graush"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"]
 
ESCAROT NEBULA
HELIOS

"Looks like a small moon to me." Rana, the pilot of the ship, stated.

The ship continued its drift towards the 'moon's surface cautiously. Rana decelerating drastically the closer the ship got to the surface.

"Anything on the sensors?" Graush's voice broke the silence. His question aimed at, whatever her name was, the person responsible for communications (Emilia).

"ETA 2 minutes." Rana added from her seat.

Ground team should be ready by now. Therran took out his comlink and opened a channel to one of the other operatives in this mission. The four-eyed weirdo who barely left her room on the ship.

:: It's time to leave. You were part of the ground team, correct? :: The Sith's question sounded more so of a statement than anything else.

He was growing tired of the confined spaces of this ship and the Force, surprisingly, drove him to explore this 'moon'.


[member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="The Major"]​
--​
JHf9BPw.png
Karas​


ATLANTEA FIELDS
PROSPECTING SHIP

"Director, we've...we've found an abundance of this ultra-dense material on one of the larger asteroids. It has been marked on your map." The chief prospector reported before the tall Pa'uan.

"But?"

"Their movements are quite chaotic."

"Do not worry, Chief Prospector. That is not part of your job role. Leave that to me."

"Understood, Director."

Humans. Always thinking they knew it all. Always thinking they know more of the rest. The Chief Prospector should focus on getting him a correct report on the potential of this asteroid. Karas' eyes focused on the map marked dot. Per protocol, they would leave a tracking device on it before leaving.

What came as bad news was indeed the movements of the asteroids. As chaotic as they were, prices for operation would certainly rise. Tractor beam technology for big mining projects were usually quite expensive.

He would take it all in account. As he always did.
 
[SIZE=11pt]Post: 3[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Ensuring his [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]rebreather[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] was inactive in accordance with his McReady’s orders, even though he knew it already was given how obsessive he was with ensuring his equipment was kept in working and fully efficient order, Captain Draken swiftly made his way to the submarines boarding hatch and marched on board. His finned boots made resounding thuds as he strode up the gangplank into the submarine. The interior lighting reflected across his gleaming white armour in flashing streaks as he stomped his way towards the stormtrooper area indicated by McReady and his own seat, rapidly lowering himself into it with a thud before quickly and efficiently strapping himself in. He made sure his secondary weapons were secured to his armour with smooth but quick checks of their fastening to his thigh and belt holsters, and sheath in the case of his knife. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Satisfied he was ready for the drop and subsequent deployment or at the very least that he would die while securely fastened to his seat, Pharazon began to slow his breathing, discipline his thoughts, and prepare himself for the physical and mental forces about to be forced upon him by the impending drop.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]"It's going to be a bumpy ride!" came McReady over the comms, Pharazon took a breath, drop lights flared, the countdown continued. Another breath. Then came the drop. He exhaled. As the submarine fell from the belly of the starship that had carried it for around five seconds many unsecured items and as it appeared, a person, rose from the deck to almost hover mid air, before slamming back down as with everything else as the submarine impacted on the surface of the waterworld. Pharazon was buffeted by the force of the impact, his giant body shaking in his harness before he brought his body back under control. Looking around he saw that the young Private ‘Chubs’ has not been controlled, appearing to have been launched into the air during the drop, rubbing his head the way he was.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]I will have to keep an eye on this one… Pharazon thought, though not overly disparagingly. He had known many clumsy men who were disciplined soldiers and brutally effective warriors. Pharazon could only hope Chubs was the same. He stared at Chubs a moment more from behind the grim and motionless facade of his helmet, trying to get a better measure of the man and perhaps let the trooper know another stormtrooper was watching and just because they were on a watery field trip the standards of the Corps still applied. He turned away without a word after another few moments, curiosity satisfied at least for the time being.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Pharazon was also surprised to see what appeared to be a Talz now among their number, though he only stared for a confused moment before looking away. Pharazon would most certainly not turn one of those ferocious aliens away, least of all if they actually desired to fight for the Order. The other members of the ground team all seemed to have survived the drop with varying degrees of success and lack of pain so Pharazon stayed seated and harnessed until McReady once again came over the comms, informing the ground team of their ETA to the ocean floor. Sending a non verbal confirmation signal back to McReady, Pharazon released his constraints and stood up and stretched slightly, ensuring his muscles were ready for the task ahead of them.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]With a final check of his weapons, as if he had not already checked them enough, he turned to the other members of the ground team and nodded.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Let’s get it done.” Pharazon said, grim and determined. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]They all knew what needed to be done and the potential for unforeseen dangers and he did not wish to potentially challenge McReady’s authority by attempting to command the ground team like he would have with his own stormtroopers from the 13th, even if his combat command experience likely played a role in why he had been selected for the mission.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]And so he began waiting, ready, muscles coiled and ready to strike like a predator on anyone of the millions of savage untamed worlds of the galaxy. He was ready to fight, ready to kill, and if anyone or anything had endangered the archaeologists, it would rue the day.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt][member="Chubs"] | [member="3X744"] | [member="Lilith Sedarri"] | [member="Bamuf"] | [member="Morro"] | [member="Brent Smith"] | [member="Connor Harrison"] | [member="Brennan Cabrol"][/SIZE]
 
Post: 4

Morro hadn’t expected her stomach to drop that much as the submarine hit the surface of the water and one would think she’d be used to that kind of jolt as she practically lived among the stars. But nope. Not expecting it was just as jarring as the first time she played around in a particularly bumpy flight simulator.

As she’d been standing upon the bridge, the Chiss finally managed to scramble into a chair and strap herself in for the rest of the turbulent ride down. Finally, when the Captain said they had a half and hour before they would rest upon the ocean floor, the submarine felt a bit more stable, so Morro unbelted and walked into the trooper deployment area, a tight squeeze compared to the ISDs she was used to. Most of the crew seemed quiet or nervous and some appeared to focus upon their equipment as they all waited for the tell-tale thump that they’d reached the bottom.

Her luminous red eyes landed upon [member="Pharazon Draken"] who unharnessed himself and with a few steps forward placed herself in between him and the Talz.

[member="Chubs"] [member="Brent Smith"] [member="Zul Grimm"] [member="Doran Ren"] [member="3X744"] [member="Bamuf"] [member="Lilith Sedarri"] [member="Connor Harrison"]
 
Boredly, Emilia stared at the display on the subspace radar, dutifully scanning each dot, despite the fact that she knew well that interference from the nearby asteroid belt meant that anything smaller than a star destroyer could easily avoid detection. It was bad enough for them to be drifting alone in a cramped, dull ship. The fact that half of her instruments didn't work in this glorified cluster of space debris seemed like an insult. Relief came when one of the agents she didn't know piped up. Her appeared to be in charge, so she sat up and tried her best to look alert.

"No sir, I've had to decrease the sensitivity of the scanners to account for the asteroids. If there's a ship near us then I can't see it.'

With a sigh, Emilia slipped past the male agent, moving back down the hall towards the signals room, where data collected by Emilia was sent and analysed by Bureau crew. She tapped the code on the door, stepping in as it opened with a gentle swish. [member="The Major"] was working inside, and Emilia cleared her throat.

"The boss says 2 minutes, are you ready to go ma'am?"

Despite her formal language, Emilia couldn't help but feel a strange sort of affection for the Station Chief. She wasn't sure if it was quite the same as the fondness the woman seemed to have for her, but little by little on their various missions Emilia's fear of the woman had begun to evolve into a sense of admiration and respect. The Major was a woman who exuded confidence and skill. It was strange, considering the rumours surrounding her, but Emilia now felt safer in the hands of The Major than she had with any other superior. She had no qualms about letting her take the lead, today or any other day.

[member="Therran Graush"] | [member="The Major"]
 
"Don't call me 'Ma'am,' Emilia. It doesn't flow between us." Said the Major without turning. On the verge of her mental awareness she could firmly grip upon the desire to explain to Miss Ravel how constructs of power were momentary illusions designed to add context to an otherwise pointless struggle. However, this would be a contrariety; proof of Sybil's own schizophrenia. For did she not also use self proclaimed illusionary titles as a form of identity and self-promotion? Ah, the human condition. Delicious. Two minutes wasn't enough to delve into such discussions. There was a mission afoot.

She turned to [member="Emilia Ravel"] while standing, still sporting anachronistic duds and stowing away who knows what sinister tools within the folds and hidden pockets of her frock coat. A slight, friendly smile spread like holoprojector squeaking on; eyes somewhat blocked by light reflecting of her glasses concealed the Major examining the Staff Officer quickly.

"On the field it's one thing; We're different than the Navy or the Corps: we actually precipitate change."

Towing the line of insubordination and degenerate, rebellious speak was something of a calling card for the Major these days. Quite often she would leave her fellow agents and allies within the Order incredibly uncomfortable, for it was difficult to tell if she was priming them for exposure or actually so self-assured of her place as a perceptive eye of Seiger.

"Emilia. . ." Suddenly Sybil's voice took a more grave tone as she approached the capable yet calamitous Cryptolinguistics Officer.

"After that foul business on Nycteria I just wanted to take a moment to mention how much I value your---"
::30 seconds to departure. Report to bay 101 immediately, Ground Team::

There never was enough time on this job. Surprised by the loudness of the announcement, something in Sybil snapped out of the moment and she proceeded to the hanger bay. Luckily they were already near the departure point, so a quick jog enabled them pair of agents to arrive at the specified location just in the nick of time.

[member="Therran Graush"]​
 
Location: Nautila, Underwater facility
Objective: Explore the Coral Graveyard
Allies: [member="Kyrel Ren"]
Posts: 5

As Kyrel Ren and Ax’no, his personal Caprine Priestess walked through Nautila towards the launch platform where their submersible lay, long and lean as though a barracuda ready to strike, the Iktochi prophetess asked, “We have a long way to go until we reach the graveyard. Is there anything you’d like to learn as we travel down to the sea floor?"

There would be little room on their personal aquatic vessel to exercise, but enough to stretch out, practice select Force skills or even meditate as well as a small kitchen and quarters if either darksider wanted to eat or sleep.

“Crucitorn is an extremely useful tool, I’ve found. Both transcending pain and heightening it.”

The horned Priestess, used to her thick robes and clerical gowns, had wrinkled her nose at having to dress like a common soldier today, and she was absolutely hiding a secret from Kyrel, one that manifested itself in a tremor in her hands and a distracted frown for most of the day. The pair would be heading to the Coral Graveyard to mine crystals in order to fashion a custom lightsaber for Ax’no, and while she relished the idea of creating a handcrafted weapon, there was one problem.

She loathed water and growing up on the dry, windy cliffs of Iktotch, was quite terrified of the thought of being underwater and at such a bottomless-seeming depth.
 
[SIZE=11pt]Post: 4[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]As Pharazon stood still and ramrod straight waiting for the submarine’s arrival at the deployment site, he watched silently as the Chiss naval officer, one Commander [member="Morro"] if he was not mistaken, made her way into the trooper deployment area from one of the cramped access corridors that led to the bridge of the submarine. She made her way to stand in between Pharazon and the Talz and Pharazon shifted his great armoured frame slightly accordingly. His armour clacked slightly and his boots and attached fins clanked softly on the hard surface of the deployment area.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Commander.” he said firmly and respectfully, his voice slightly modulated by his helmet microphone as he inclined his head and bowed slightly to the naval officer.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He could see that she was looking at him, her glowing red eyes landing on him at least for a moment as she had made her way to where she stood now between the Talz and himself. Given the rather stark height difference between the two officers Pharazon almost towered over the Chiss and he certainly took up more space than her as well, especially given his armour. From behind his pale and implacable helmet facade he momentarily looked over the officer appraisingly, paying more attention than he might have otherwise as he had only ever met one other Chiss before. And that Chiss had neither been in this part of the galaxy or a naval officer in the First Order. He silently suspected she was either extraordinarily talented and driven or dangerously politically savvy and ambitious to have overcome the often extreme xenophobia and discriminatory laws and regulations of the First Order. However, Pharazon did mentally admit that he knew little of how the navy operated and he had little actual first hand knowledge of the treatment of aliens given he came across none in the human only stormtrooper corps.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“I trust all bridge operations are in order and preparing for our deployment once we reach the ocean floor?” he asked the officer in a manner that could have been described as professionally causal if it had been said by anyone other than Pharazon, with his tone during operations never really deviating from a cold professional sternness. He had long since realised that there were times to play political and social games with tone, posture, and countenance but that combat missions were not one of them. He had learned over his years of military service with the stormtrooper corps that his courtly skills and machinations were still useful, but not on the battlefield. He had also taking quite a liking to his new disciplined and imposing persona, and to not constantly analysing how he might appear to others, that they saw him as a stormtrooper was often enough.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“I can report that despite a few… mishaps during the initial drop,” he turned his head to regard Private Hadley, or Chubs as he was known, and some of the loose equipment that still lay upon the deck for a silent moment before returning his attention to the Commander, “that the extraction team will be ready for deployment before we reach the ocean floor.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]He then fell silent, waiting for the Chiss officer’s reply as he was intrigued to learn more about her from her response and potentially confirm which of his suspicions may or may not be correct about her. Even though he had learned to embody the grim discipline of the stormtrooper corps, Pharazon still could not stop himself deriving pleasure from constantly [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]appraising[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] and learning more about those around him.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt][member="Chubs"] | [member="3X744"] | [member="Lilith Sedarri"] | [member="Bamuf"] | [member="Brent Smith"] | [member="Connor Harrison"] | [member="Brennan Cabrol"][/SIZE]
 
UNKNOWN PLANETARY BODY
ESCAROT NEBULA

Upon the other two's arrival, depressurizing commenced as Therran put a black TIE pilot helmet on his head. His black hood quickly on top of it.

"Stay frosty out there, team. No oxygen, gravity levels slightly below normal." The pilot's voice crackled through everyone's comm units.

The three of them were equipped with miniature jet thrusters clipped to their boots in case they end up jumping way too high and be lost in space forever.

Eventually the ramp would open and the trio would feel much more lightweight. Not as lightweight as in deep space but the pull of gravity was definitely lighter than standard. Odd. The details they've uncovered regarding this 'moon' led to believe that gravity would be nonexistent.

There was certainly more to this piece of rock than seen at first.

The surface was completely rocky from space and that did not differ upon setting feet on it. Chains of ridges dotted the horizon but it was a sharp and unusually high peak that took Graush's attention. So he moved on, forward. The peak his landmark.

:: Anything unusual, officer? :: Therran's question was addressed to both.


[member="The Major"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"]​
 
The Beast had done what it had for centuries. Swim. The cold oceans of Nero soothed its ancient body. The cool waters rushing against the ancient, toothed skin which adorned its fins and skin. Its large, cavernous gills absorbing the oxygen, as it mindlessly wandered, wanting and waiting to meet its next prey.

Despite having existed for close to millennia, the beast had no room for sentience. No cognition, sans the primal instincts of kill. Eat. Swim.

But something triggered him. A buzz, at the tip of its nose. It was a familiar one. The beast had encountered it but a few days ago.

An intruder....

With a change of course, and direction, the monster began to propel itself towards the First Order's exploration crew. Curiosity having piqued its apex senses.


[member="Morro"] | [member="Pharazon Draken"] | @Lilth Sedarri | [member="Connor Harrison"]
 
Post 6

Morro had to crane her neck to look at Pharazon, but nodded just the same when he addressed her as Commander. And while she could not profess to be extraordinarily talented or dangerously driven, the Chiss officer was ambitious. She’d long ago caught the eye of the Admiral Herausgeber and had been riding his coattails since her enlistment into the navy.

“Yes they are. I plan to accompany you as the autopilot can take care of the rest once we get past any roughness in the sea.”

And speaking of roughness, their descent did appear to be smoothing out, but still it was odd that they had not reached the bottom yet. Morro checked her chrono, and the time had passed for them to land upon the seabed.

“That’s all well and good,” the Chiss replied. “But I believe we should have reached it by now. How strange. Oh wait!” She adjusted her chrono and realized it had been set a little too fast. “We still have five minutes. That’s a relief as I thought something was about to go wrong. One of those mishaps as you’ve described.”

She sucked at her teeth, tutting at herself, embarrassed for a moment that such a small imperfection had shown through her stiff facade.

[member="Chubs"] [member="3X744"] [member="Bamuf"] [member="Lilith Sedarri"] [member="Connor Harrison"] [member="Pharazon Draken"]
 
Emilia stepped gently off the ship's loading ramp, the boots of her flight suit sending up a gentle cloud of dust. It had been a while since she'd last worn a flight suit. In the years after her introduction to the First Order military the garment had become very familiar to her. The respirator puffed as she followed [member="The Major"], [member="Therran Graush"], and the rest of the small party down the ramp. The door closing neatly behind them with a pressurized hiss.

The ship's engines whined as they crossed onto the rocky landscape. Behind them, the stealth corvette creaked and groaned, settling under it's own weight. Emilia cleared her throat, opening her commlink.

:: "Looks awfully barren to me, sir. " ::

She looked across the jagged landscape, her eyes settling on the large peak that [member="Therran Graush"] had noticed moments earlier. The hill would serve as a good vantage point, and, more importantly, it could be used to navigate back to the ship. The outcrop was large and rectangular, rising at a steep angle tens of metres into the air, stopping at a smooth slab of rock about 2 square metres in size. The slab was grey and speckled with bits of white material, and stuck out from the rest of the landscape. Emilia pointed towards it.

:: "What about up there, we can get an idea of the landscape." ::

[member="Therran Graush"] | [member="The Major"]
 
By this point, the Special Forces Unit had landed within the Hangar of the Star Destroyer and started to unload their equipment while Commander, Alia Fedahkin had left them to it in search for the Commanding Officer on deck. With the Vessel in active duty and the mass of crewmen going to and fro, she didn't bother to seek out the bridge but rather find someone that outranked herself on the same level they had come to dock within and soon learned that a search and rescue group had already descended down into the depths of Nero.

Orders had been unusually vague from High Command, they were to be stationed aboard this vessel for just under a months duration before returning to Dosuun. It wasn't uncommon to be left out of the loop for their sort of endeavors, always there being a certain amount of secrecy and keeping things strictly in the need-to-know, the First Order however usually appointed them operations of a far more volatile nature rather than spending such an amount of time aboard a vessel the likes of this one.

Returning to her Squad, they had wandered away from the transport that now lifted from the hangar and turned to drop back into open Space leaving them behind. Alia's expression behind that of her helm would have been inappropriately read for the skepticism she held in their new temporary holdings.

"So...There's good news and bad news" she turned to her second, Kulon Otheym, leading him a short distance away from the other four so that she could fill him in. "Good news is we're not getting our feet wet, they've already sent a team down", for a brief moment, she actually sounded optimistic, though it didn't last long.

"Bad news however is we're stuck here for the moment without a clue as to why. High Command must have something in the works but for now, tell the others to get their gear organized, we've got a spot in the barracks. There's a gym just down the way, that should keep 'em busy for the time being".

[member="Therran Graush"] | [member="Connor Harrison"] | [member="Chubs"] | [member="3X744"] | [member="Lilith Sedarri"] | [member="Bamuf"] | [member="Pharazon Draken"]
 
”Anyone care to tell me the status of this operation?”

It was a dude in a black cape.

851 ABY and nerf herders were rocking black capes.

Don't make eye contact. Don't make contact. Don't make... chit.

Yep. He'd totally turned to look. And when he had, he'd gotten beckoned over toward tall, dark, and Sithly was standing.

”I’m from the Bastion. Who’s in charge here? What’s going on? Get in touch with whomever and tell them Master Connor Harrison wants to talk. Thank you.”

Master? Really? There was a slight clicking sound as the mask the stormtrooper wore filtered the youth's voice. "Yes, sir," he provided politely, even as he was shooed away.

Master. You can master dez nutz.

Conveniently, the two ranking officers seemed to be talking to one another. So that was like hitting two womprats with one bolt. Approaching the pair, the teen was mindful to hold himself at attention as he said,"Uh, Captain?" to try and get the man's attention.

"We've got a guy in a black cape asking whose in charge here," the teen remarked, gesturing with an armored thumb back at where the dude in the black cape was standing. "Says his name is Connor Harrison."

Seriously, they were on the bottom of the ocean. Who the hell brought a cape to the bottom of the ocean?

[member="Chubs"] | [member="Connor Harrison"] | [member="Lilith Sedarri"] | [member="Bamuf"] | [member="Morro"] | [member="Pharazon Draken"]​
 
Post:1
Ally: @Ax'no First Order
BYOO

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Kyrel had arrived with his lover and personal Caprine Priestess Ax'no to this world that was under an expedition of course. And still the dark side was still radiant as ever, of course, Ax'no possessed the Force and desired to learn all there was of the darkness as he had promised her, but she was lacking one thing in her steps, that of a Lightsaber. The Lightsaber, a weapon that has been around for thousands of years, wielded by Jedi, Sith and now Ren as it's masters.​
The submersible, of course, was small and compact, almost like the Gungan Bongo. He only had a few feet of room as he sat in front of the priestess now dressed in garbs almost worthy of combat, and for once he found it fitting instead of the gowns that showed her body and would lead any man astray.​
Kyrel looked at her as she asked what he had wished to learn, but this skill that she described would be most useful for further engagements. He looked to her with a curious look, as he could sense that they were almost close to their destination. He spoke kindly but in a cold tone. "Yes if it benefits me in the future then show me."
 
Bamuf had been silent.

He watched the other carefully, making sure to never make it look like he actually was watching them.

The Chiss woman was a welcome addition to their number so that Bamuf would not be the only alien present but she was near-human regardless. Closer to them than him. It all made him feel even more out of place. Here he was, descending beneath an ocean world on a rescue mission, surrounded by humans.

Had he ever been so out of place before? This was what he had been expecting when he gave his service to the First Order, after all. Just not so quickly.

Perhaps something else was causing him distress. The seat where he sat may be too small. The submarine's turbulence may throw him. The depth of the water may disturb him and even the weapon he held unfamiliar.

But his instincts couldn't stop telling him that something strange was afoot. Something bad.

The Talz held a tight grip on his sonic rifle. There may not be any hostiles nearby by the defence was reassuring.

Bamuf continued his silence, completely tuned out to the conversations around him, all to better concentrate on the impending sense of danger.

What had happened to the missing?

The furred creature began to sweat.

[member="3X744"] | [member="Lilith Sedarri"] | [member="Chubs"] | [member="Morro"] | [member="Pharazon Draken"] | [member="Brent Smith"]
 
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FN-6767 "Scars"
Imperial X-Class Star Destroyer, Hanger.
Wearing some black cargo trousers, a motor oil stained white tank top and haphazardly laced boots, Scars stands atop Justicar's hull above a small opening beside her commander's Cupola her two Hi-sense eyes focused on some peculiar looking recent arrivals while the mechanical arm that starts at her left elbow supports the weight of a dark olive jerry can filled with coolant for the engine's empty reservoir. Transculent viscous blueish fluid flows in a carefully guided steam down the opening while Scars' gaze continues to magnify and study what unknown yet to her was some description of unconventional warfare group. Focusing too hard on the troops at hand she for a moment ignores the dull cold forming around her foot for a moment before glancing down to find coolant oozing atop her soil covered boot. Scars lungs heave out a quiet sigh angrily before kneeling to tip the Jerry can's opening directly above the Reservoir opening until the thermoplastic Jerry is effortlessly guided with right hand indicating it is empty.

Placing the Titanium radiator cap back in place and rotating the heavy thing several times casually before shouting an order to Ratchet; Justicar's driver who sits at his station with head and eyes glancing around the busy hanger from his hatch, his body beneath shoulders concealed within the tank's hull. "Driver, power! Status?" Scars uses her cybernetic hand as a support while leaping down from the tank's roof with an audible squelching thanks to the coolant curdling around in her left boot. Taking several steps forward both of her spheres now inspect the exposed engine; the engine grate raised so as to make the powerplant accessible while they serviced the tracked casemate assault tank.

Ratchet inspects his control panel and muses for a moment. "Everything looks nominal in terms of master power function Corporal, Engine has been pre-heated." Scars shoots an approving nod towards the Private First Class who looks towards his Tank Commander expectantly; they were performing a service yes but at one which several of their automotive parts are due to reach their mean time before failure. "Engage the starter and engine ignition, in your own time." Ratchet gives but a silent nod before rotating the Electrical Engine starter, the sound released into the area around the tank is one of a brief loud mechanical whine from the Justicar's engine bay before Ratcher depresses the ignition and several loud thuds rumble throughout the tank's hull prior to the Engine roaring to life only to have its life snuffed out when abruptly igniting lazily and spluttering out, Scars rolls her emerald eyes simmering with barely contained frustration. "I wish the engine starters would stop doing that...." The Tank Commander grumbles beneath her breath.
[member="Brennan Cabrol"]​
 
UNKNOWN PLANETARY BODY
ESCAROT NEBULA

Therran acknowledged one of the agents' report. It certainly did also feel barren. The vantage point up ahead would definitely bit a good point of interest to reach. Thus, the trio moved on not bothered by the nothing around them.

:: Anything interesting out there? :: The pilot from the ship's voice came through the comms.

:: No. :: Graush responded slightly irritated.

:: Affirmative. ::

The Sith led the way, his helmet's scanners could not pick anything out in the distance but he trusted the Force much more.

And for a reason.

An odd, vibrating feeling ran through the back of his head the closer they got to the peak of the hill. Instinctively, he sought the Force as a weapon for any thread that might arise. Upon the trio reaching the vantage point they could see nothing but the same wasteland they were previously venturing through.

But that was not what would interest them. Perhaps [member="Emilia Ravel"]'s sensors could detect energy signals, perhaps they could not but the Force could. It guided him by pointing him below.

Whatever the white material below their feet was it neatly covered a steel hatch.

Not waiting for any more questions, he called upon the Force and the ethereal tore the steel hatch from its hinges and hurled it down the hill.

"Let's go." Graush stated and jumped down landing on steel floor.

A facility of some sorts.

[member="The Major"]​
 
Post: 5

Pharazon listened carefully and silently as Commander [member="Morro"] spoke, his head inclined slightly downwards to meet and hold her gaze to maintain as much eye contact his opaque visor and imposing helmet allowed. His right eyebrow rose slightly for a brief moment as he listened to her stating her intention to accompany the extraction team once they reached the ocean floor. Pharazon was not sure if this meant she was serious and capable or dangerously overconfident, but he was pleasantly surprised that a naval officer was willing to get their hands dirty with the ground pounders once in awhile. The fact that they would be swimming made little difference.

“Excellent Commander, I am sure the combined expertise of the extraction team will be sufficient to see off any potential hostile eventuality.” he replied to Morro, voice still stern but slightly more amiable.

Falling silent once again, he could not completely suppress a small smile from behind his helmet as Morro had her own little mishap with her chrono, though he showed no outward sign of it as he maintained his ramrod straight posture and made no sound. At least she was capable of making a mistake and swiftly correcting it Pharazon thought. He could see she was uncomfortable with him having witnessed her mistake, albeit how minor it was, her reaction was familiar to him, as he too despised personal failure in all its manifestations and greatly disliked others seeing any of his failings, no matter how minor.

“You will know when we reach the deployment site, Commander Morro. Mishaps during a military operation are often unavoidable and are near universally present, as I am sure you are aware unless the navy likes to pretend otherwise...” Pharazon said tone softening and even approaching joviality, at least what might pass as such from a stern and grim stormtrooper officer, as he made his light jab at the First Imperial Navy in an attempt to set Morro at ease after her embarrassment.

“But what counts is how we react to, adapt, and overcome whatever awaits us after we deploy. Remember your training, watch over your comrades, and you will not only do your uniform proud but also be an asset to any ground operation."

He had gambled with that last remark, he did not know Morro’s service history but he suspected she may be unused to combat drops and ground deployment, at least from a position outside the pilot's chair, which he thought may have put her on edge and contributed to her chrono error. But he knew he could be wrong and might soon be made to know the depths of his ignorance if she desired to chew him out now or at a later date. Either way he mused, he would learn more of her from her response and from observing her performance in the field as he observed everyone he fought beside.

Before any of his predictions had the chance to materialise, however, he was approached by one of the stormtroopers also accompanying the mission. A young trooper too Pharazon thought, going by his voice.

“Yes, Lance Corporal?” he responded to the trooper’s initial attempt to get his attention, identifying him as Lance Corporal [member="3X744"] if he was not mistaken and turned himself to face him.

As Pharazon listened he turned his head to regard the darkly cloaked figure the young trooper was describing. He did not recognise him, but Pharazon recognised no members of the team least of all the likely force sensitive ones if his impressions and very faint feelings about the man were accurate. He was more concerned that this Harrison appeared to have stumbled into this operation without knowing anything, if his questioning who was in command gave any indication to his inner thoughts. Pharazon had no desire to let the man disrupt the operation and so would let McReady deal with the man rather than attempt to restrain him.

"I appreciate you bringing this to my attention Corporal." he said firmly and formally.

Nodding to Morro to excuse himself he looked over to this Harrison and took a few steps toward him in the cramped deployment bay so he did not have to raise the volume on his microphone.

“Master [member="Connor Harrison"] , the commander of this operation is an officer who goes by McReady and you may find him on the bridge of this vessel. He will inform you of the specifics of our operation.” Pharazon said sternly but professionally to the mysterious man and extended an arm and a finger in the direction of the hatch that led to the access corridor to the bridge. Not willing to divulge their mission lest McReady not wish this Harrison to know, Pharazon had to remind himself he was not in command.

“This operation has already commenced, however, and you will not disrupt it. I trust I am understood.” he finished coldly, the distortion his helmet microphone made to his voice emphasising his tone. Pharazon would not turn away help during an operation like this, but likewise he was suspicious and would not allow an unknown operator to disrupt anything.

Pharazon did not know the man, nor could he judge his abilities, however, he had a cold and all too familiar feeling that he was very powerful assault his senses. He trusted those feelings… those feelings from the force, enough to know that this man could be quite the asset so long as he cooperated. And so Pharazon resolved himself to allow McReady to judge and integrate Master Harrison into the operation.

Satisfied he had properly directed Harrison to the commanding officer he sought, Pharazon walked back over to Commander Morro and took up his previous position. As he did, however, he decided that he would check his weapons one last time before deployment.

He was getting another deathly cold feeling cascading over his skin and throughout his very being, and it was not caused by Harrison.

[member="Chubs"] | [member="Lilith Sedarri"] | [member="Bamuf"] | [member="Brent Smith"] | [member="Brennan Cabrol"]
 

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