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Atlas Viridian

Atlas Viridian

Member Since 03 Nov 2017
Offline Last Active Feb 18 2019 12:22 AM

#1851429 Early Release

Posted by Atlas Viridian on 27 August 2018 - 08:55 PM



Location: Endor, Wild Forest | Western Approach to Endor State Penitentiary

Operation Early Release | The Rebellion | ATTN: The First Order




“How did I escape? With difficulty. How did I plan this moment? With pleasure.”

~Alexandre Dumas, The Count of Monte Cristo




It had taken significant planning, plotting, and even a few failed attempts at reconnaissance but the information they'd managed to get seemed to be current. Of course, as they well knew, intelligence was more often than not - wrong.However, it was the best shot they had at freeing their comrade. Marston Krill had been captured by the First Order during the initial stages of their Galactic Mandate. As the trade lanes began to be more heavily patrolled and First Order worlds demanded visible identification of non-citizens, it was no surprise that Marston was compromised. Whether it had been defiance of the memo from the Minister of Security or perhaps just an oversight, the Rebel Commander had been scooped up during a smuggling run on the Galactic East side of Bakura. Since his arrest, Marston had been incarcerated on Endor, outside the reach of the Rebellion - until now.


Atlas hadn't been thrilled with the plan but he knew it was the closest they'd be able to get for who knew how long. With the First Order focusing its attention to their Galactic Southeast and the surprisingly well coordinated Coalition, a chink in their armor was opened however small. *Seize opportunity, lest it be lost.* The words of his grandfather echoed in his ears. Atlas hadn't been the only one who felt that way.


Their mission on the other side of First Order space had seen their uniforms and Imperial transport exhausted - they were on their own for this op. Luckily for the rebel crew, they had some of the most talented pilots this side of the verse. Men and women with more intimate knowledge of space and drive masking than most pilots and mechanics this side of the verse - who knew if it would stand up to Imperial scrutiny though. Atlas never liked to bet on luck.


The jig was thus: A single small freighter, suspiciously reminiscent of a rather famous YT model from ancient history. Drives masked to match that of a much smaller vessel, a small skiff at most. It would fool Imperial sensors long enough to get within orbit if they played their cards right. They wouldn't be passing off as an Imperial Shuttle or anything so direct, instead they'd bet on the fact that the planetary defense forces left behind due to the upscaling near the Coalition border were lazy and untrained. If that was the case, there was a chance they might not notice the small shuttle or they might let it pass, not bothering to mobilize what little they had in system.


Petra Vitalis | Lirranne Isaris | Kira Vaal | @The Rebellion

@The First Order | The Major


OOC: Hey! Just looking to write a fun story about how we rescue an NPC I've created from the grips of the First Order. I hope this can be a fun thread for both our factions/members, and anyone else that decides to tag along. I ask that everyone be respectful to each other, and just let loose and have some fun! If I have misspoken in any of my narrative or incorrectly written something, feel free to let me know! I'm more than willing to work with you folks!



#1844531 Sand Sans Lane (First Order Dominion of Praesitlyn, N-49)

Posted by Atlas Viridian on 13 August 2018 - 02:32 PM

En Route to the FIV Oculus | Valor-class Frigate

Refurbished First Order Border Outpost Shuttle

Squad: Petra Vitalis | Kira Vaal | @The Rebellion

First Order: Kyrel Ren | Leskie Tomiet


Several minutes later the hull of the Oculus came into view, Atlas' response to Kira's question less than positive. Shaken would be a good word to describe what he was feeling. This was by far the most direct action they'd taken, or at least, visible. The reward for succeeding was significant, the penalty for failure... He couldn't fathom. It wouldn't be an enjoyable time, that much he was certain of.


From the rear of the cockpit he could hear the voice of Petra, her faith in her friends sending the corners of his lips upward. Atlas guided the shuttle ever closer as the frigate began to fill the viewscreen. Soon they'd be close enough to start the landing sequence. According to the flight plan, the Valor-class only had one hangar. Only for launches and shuttles at that. Atlas could see the external mountings as they approached, TIE interceptors hanging like wasps from a nest. He was glad they weren't facing them in a fighter - though he would have liked to have a bit more firepower at his disposal if things did go South.


Thankfully for the pilot and the rest of the rebels aboard, things seemed to be going smoothly. The final checks completed, he initialized the landing sequence and prepared for their arrival.


"If you've got any last second doubts, now would be the time."


He knew there wouldn't be any, at least not voiced. They were in it now - only way out was through. Standing as he prepared to head to the back ramp Atlas straightened out the uniform and slipped on the black leather gloves. As a joke, he raised an eyebrow in Petra's direction.


"Hail Sieger!"


Atlas meant to keep a straight face but instead a chuckle escaped, the serious expression fading. He was nervous but the presence of his friends helped keep him grounded.


"Well, I'm sure they'll have a greeting party. You lot ready?"

#1842588 Sand Sans Lane (First Order Dominion of Praesitlyn, N-49)

Posted by Atlas Viridian on 09 August 2018 - 03:37 PM

En Route to the Praesitlyn System

Refurbished First Order Border Outpost Shuttle

Squad(?): Petra Vitalis | Kira Vaal | @The Rebellion


As the voice of Kira Vaal reached his ears Atlas' nerves were settled - sort of. There wasn't another option at this point, they'd gone past the point of no return. All that was left was to see if fate favored the bold, as the adage went. With a deep breath, Atlas kept his hands steady on the controls as the Jedi keyed up the comms. If they were lucky, they'd get through this in one piece.


:: This is Shuttle Diomedes providing supplies and technical parts, requesting permission to pass first checkpoint. ::


This was it. The moment of truth. The uniforms they wore, the code cylinders they'd acquired, even the false documentation they each held - none of it would matter if the clearance codes they gave here in this moment failed them. For several tense moments they were left with dead air, nothing but the hum of the shuttle's engines in their ears. Atlas knew it. The codes had failed and a First Order ship was taking aim, preparing to blast the boat into oblivion. So unexpected was the sound of a voice on the comm that Atlas almost jumped out of his seat.


:: Shuttle Diomedes, you are clear to progress past checkpoint one. Where are you headed today? We didn't see you on the flight roster. ::


Almost automatically Atlas paged his reply, the script they'd spent hours practicing sounding far more convincing in his mind than it did as he voiced it.


:: Acknowledged. Our destination is the uh... FIV Oculus. Guess they're doing some refits and needed some uh, specialty parts. You know, it's almost a wonder that... :: He realized he was rambling, a white pallor striking his features.


:: Understood. Keep in mind these are official channels Diomedes, keep the chatter to a minimum. Control out. ::


An overwhelming sigh could be heard escaping Atlas' lips. He could have just undone the whole thing. Him. He. Atlas. He couldn't believe his own carelessness. There wasn't sense in worrying about it now, they'd managed to scrape by. As the pounding of his heard began to subside, he spoke carefully to his passengers.


"Alright, looks like we made it through - now to the Oculus."

#1841028 Sand Sans Lane (First Order Dominion of Praesitlyn, N-49)

Posted by Atlas Viridian on 06 August 2018 - 09:07 PM

En Route to the Praesitlyn System

Refurbished First Order Border Outpost Shuttle

Squad(?): Petra Vitalis | Kira Vaal | @The Rebellion


It was the first time in a long time that the Rebellion had gotten a piece of intel that actually panned out. Recent endeavors had been tedious at best, many resulting in loss of manpower and resources. Some of their higher ranking leaders had even been captured. Morale was at an all time low, and by Atlas' best judgement, too many more and the Rebellion might fall altogether. A few missteps as they figured out who they were had set them off on the wrong foot despite their initial success in the Rimcee sector. This wasn't Rimcee, hell, this was on the other side of the galaxy, but Atlas was determined to continue the fight. The native Centaran wasn't the only one.


With intel confirming the refocus of the First Order towards their Galactic Southern border, Atlas and crew had been eager to seize the opportunity to act against them. At any other time the plan would have been considered ludicrous, but with the current state of the Order's war fleet and their preoccupation with the Coalition it just might work. Such had been the pitch made by the industrious former Lieutenant of the Mara-Perlemian Trade Council. It was almost a shock when his proposal had been accepted by Rebellion High Command.


And this was how Atlas found himself in the cockpit of the somewhat refurbished First Order shuttle - well, supposed to be refurbished he noted as his eyes spied a loose panel near his foot. A silent grimace stretched the man's features as he kicked the panel back into place, a solid thunk sounding as the invisible lip sealed back into place. *Is this really going to work?* Atlas had doubts, despite his trust in the rest of his team and the solidity of the plan. The uniforms they'd managed to cobble together were solid, if a bit less than pristine. Thankfully, the less than perfect condition of the uniforms would match well with the assigned transponder code - a fringe outpost on the edge of First Order space. Thing was, if they waited much longer the codes were liable to change and that was assuming the First Order didn't get too curious about the outposts to the Galactic North. If they did, they might discover that it had been waylaid by the rebels and equipped with an automated reporting schedule. Atlas didn't quite understand how it worked, but the Rebellion's technicians assured him that unless the First Order sent a physical envoy they'd never know the difference.


"We're getting close, everyone ready for reversion? We've got one shot at this. Can't afford to muck it up."

#1832704 The Addled Jewel | Part 1 of The New Dawn Campaign

Posted by Atlas Viridian on 24 July 2018 - 04:19 PM



The Rebellion had made an entrance on the grand stage only weeks ago in the Rimcee sector but even their momentary success seemed but a drop in the blazing inferno that was spreading across the galaxy. Lucky though they had been with the acquisition of a few solid command vessels, their luck was bound to run out sooner rather than later - at very least, their resources and funds would. Resistance wasn't cheap. It's why many who joined the cause could offer nothing more than the clothes on their back and their calloused hands, eager to pick up the torch against tyranny. *And that's perfectly okay.*


Atlas himself had showed up on the doorstep of the Rebellion with little to offer in terms of tangible goods but his skill as a pilot was a rare thing indeed. Rarer still were quality starfighters. It was why they had arrived on Sluis Van - to 'liberate' a former Alliance stockpile of to be decommissioned X-Wings. They weren't particularly pretty or top of the line by any means - arguably they were in worse shape than even the Mara-Perlemian Trade Council's vessels, but none of that mattered. They would make do, they always had.


Even counting their recent gains, the Rebellion struggled for funds, for raw materials necessary to repair their ships and construct new ones - and there was the ever impending threat of discovery. Three frigates made up their little flotilla, a few dozen starfighters, maybe a corvette or two. They'd be no match for a Sith reconnaissance force or a First Order patrol. It was that glaring need which had driven them deep into the core, mapping for themselves secret routes as they slowly progressed deeper and deeper.


The Deep Core was something of a gem, albeit muddled. The high density of planets and volatility of some of the stars in the region kept out all but the most determined, though some called it home. Worlds like Empress Teta, Tython, Byss, among others. None of these particularly held what Rebellion High Command was looking for however - no, they were looking for rocks. To be more precise, valuable rocks. They hadn't committed the whole Rebel flotilla to the task, but enough that they could remain largely undetected - and in fairness the worst they expected were pirates, easily dissuaded by the presence of the Spirit of Valor and her heavy fighter complement. Supplemented by a small complement of Wydah-class Corvettes and a wide spattering of civilian vessels refitted for strip mining, they formed a well rounded group.


While the Rebel fighter pilot wasn't terribly concerned about pirates, he knew very little about the corporate game in this sector of space. From experience, he knew that most mining corporations weren't likely to appreciate the skimming the Rebellion was going to be doing - and most could afford to pay mercenaries or even field their own fleets of space vessels to protect their interests. That's precisely why they had kept the plans simple. *Get in, get the ore, get out.* They weren't going to be hanging out waiting for a corporate fleet or otherwise to roll up on them.


Taking a long look outside the viewscreen of his Y-wing fighter, Atlas saw the massive field of asteroids near Prakith ahead. Two elements, both space and ground. One to strip the asteroids of as much ore as they could, the other to head to the surface and cut a large swathe of land open and rip as much of the valuable element as they could. Best case, they were here for a day, maybe two - then they'd be back into the great void. Talking helped keep his mind off the thoughts of what could go wrong. Tipping his head back over his shoulder he spoke to his co-pilot and friend in the seat behind his.


"You doing alright back there? How're the scanners looking?"


Petra Vitalis | Kira Vaal | Edwin Mad-Thane | Lirranne Isaris

#1832552 Time-check (FO's Dominion of Elrood {Hex L-51})

Posted by Atlas Viridian on 24 July 2018 - 12:40 PM



Overturned Lorry | In Cover
Status: In Conflict

Targets: Chrome Dome (The Major) | Solid Snake (Dresden Verbrennung)| Leah Kaban

Objective: Rescue Oren, Sian | Inflict Casualties on First Order Troops | Escape / Exfil


He didn't have much a choice in the matter, the wound to his eardrum sending his feet wobbling every which way as the pair of rebel fighters tried their damnedest to reach the overturned lorry. After a few close calls and the constant thundering in his skull, they made it - oblivious to all else. Atlas' own blaster hung limply at his side. He wasn't tired but damn if he couldn't focus. His head was fine but with each laser blast it felt like the whole world was screaming into his ear. Now nestled 'safely' behind the vehicle, Atlas had a moment to catch his breath. Gratefully he took the package, winding up some gauze and wrapping his head hastily. If he could just prevent sound from getting in his ear at all, maybe the pain would subside. *But what about Sian?*


He couldn't help in this condition, there wasn't a way to break through the First Order soldiers now that they'd gained their footing. There was only one shot left, and it required nothing from them and everything from the woman who'd been held captive. If she could just make a run for it, get somewhat close, the dynamic duo of Atlas and Petra could provide covering fire. Having finished hastily wrapping his head, Atlas peeked around the edge of the truck and raised his voice.


"Sian, run!"


In a flash he saw the woman appear from one of the blown out windows, the gloved fist of a First Order trooper slipping from her arm as she batted it away. *She broke free!* he thought, though his elation would only last a few more moments. Extending his arm and firing towards the Order's positions, Atlas silentlyhoped and prayed that the Devaronian woman would make it. He had to duck again behind cover as blaster fire erupted along the back end of the vehicle from a moving figure hunched low. Shouting over the lorry, he would wait a moment before peeking out again.


"Not far now, hurry! Petra, help me here!"


Petra Vitalis | Dresden Verbrennung | The Major | Leah Kaban

#1831869 Time-check (FO's Dominion of Elrood {Hex L-51})

Posted by Atlas Viridian on 23 July 2018 - 09:05 AM



[Former] Rebellion Safehouse
Status: Ambush Sprung, Gritting Teeth

Targets: Chrome Dome (The Major) | Solid Snake (Dresden Verbrennung)| Leah Kaban

Objective: Rescue Oren, Sian | Inflict Casualties on First Order Troops


Despite the ringing in his ears Atlas heard the elevated voice of Petra, it sounded muffled though. Confused, he shook his head once, twice - and then the pain. Whatever had caused it, his left ear felt like it had been pricked with a red hot poker. *Must have broke an eardrum. Damn.* Between the thundering of the lasers and resulting explosions, it was just his luck. Lifting his eyes skyward he saw the pilot's final volley kick up dirt and stone of the courtyard towards the direction of the oncoming chrome titan, then suddenly veer off course and disappear across the tops of the surrounding buildings. Though they were tenacious in a fight, the rebels weren't trained soldiers, their pilots not bloodied angels of death. Though Atlas hadn't known it, Dresden Verbrennung's laser had done the trick, intimidating the young pilot above enough to send him scrambling away.


Atlas nodded gingerly in response to Petra's comment about cover, his free hand reaching to the side of his head momentarily. When he pulled it away, there was blood. *Yep. Definitely an eardrum. This is going to be fun.* To get to better cover meant sacrificing the one they now huddled behind - and moving fast. Neither of which Atlas really felt inclined to do. Unfortunately, he knew she was right. He let the woman drag him, resting his back against the central pillar of the fountain, cold water almost chest deep. Already he could see the gloss white of the First Order Stormtroopers glimmering on the rooftops across the courtyard, they didn't have much time. A quick glance was all he needed, eyeballing the lay of the land before splashing back down into the water.


"There's an overturned lorry about halfway between us and the next row of buildings, think we can make it?"


Atlas pointed the direction he'd looked in. His voice sounded off to him, but he chalked it up to his eardrum. He sure hoped he could still keep his balance, the pain had begun to settle in and each laser blast from his or the troopers blasters was like a slap on the side of his head.


Dresden Verbrennung | The Major | Leah Kaban | Petra Vitalis

#1828858 Time-check (FO's Dominion of Elrood {Hex L-51})

Posted by Atlas Viridian on 18 July 2018 - 01:53 PM



[Former] Rebellion Safehouse
Status: Ambush Sprung, Approaching

Targets: Chrome Dome (The Major) | Solid Snake (Dresden Verbrennung)| Leah Kaban

Objective: Rescue Oren, Sian | Inflict Casualties on First Order Troops


Current situation aside, Atlas smirked at Petra's comment on his driving. He'd been struggling to catch his breath, cursing himself for making such a rash decision, none of it really mattered now. Raising the blaster up above his head and towards the face of the building, he fired blindly. If nothing else, maybe it would give them chance to find better cover. All hopes of that were dashed however as a violent flurry of blaster fire erupted from where the First Order soldiers had been. Thanks to the explosion of the speeder, the fire had died down but now Atlas could tell that they were recovering quickly. They'd have to move quick if they expected to use any remaining advantage they had. Several blaster bolts slapped into the fountain above Atlas' head, chips of stone and mortar raining down on the pair huddled there. They couldn't do this alone for much longer. Where were the others?

Scattered fire coming from the edge of the block suggested the other rebel fighters had taken refuge before exposing themselves in the courtyard, leaving Atlas and Petra to go it mostly alone. *That's what I get for trusting the locals.* thought Atlas glibly. Some of them had given the appearance of staunch fighters, so why now did they hold back? Did they see something he hadn't? Firing off a few more quick blasts he shouted to Petra over the din.


"What's taking them so long - they've got to have our position by now!"


Atlas' eyes turned to the sky as if looking for something, a wide grin stretching across his otherwise concerned features. A near silent answer to his own question, it took him a minute to realize the gravity of what he was seeing, and what exactly it meant for the rebels. *Oh feth.* he mouthed silently. A barely audible pop followed by a thin line of wire shooting overhead caused him to raise an eyebrow, realizing only just too late what was happening. In the next moment a shimmer of chrome armor crossed over the fountain, the trooper's shadow dimming the rebel pilot's features. They were in a pickle now.

High above, the small speck against the sky quickly grew larger. Behind them, now standing tall as laser fire danced around her intimidating figure, the soldier so affectionately referred to as "Chrome Dome" now advanced. They couldn't stand up due to the incoming fire from the face of the building. They couldn't stop the chrome monstrosity, even as they watched several stray blasts from the First Order soldiers pinged harmlessly off the chromium surface. There was only one way to do this, only one more thing that might save them in time. Without a word, Atlas threw his body into motion.


Two rapid fire blasts erupted from the man's blaster pistol aimed at the reflective trash can's visor, hoping to buy them only a second or two more. Without waiting to see if his shots found their mark he reached an arm over, wrapping it around his companion and shoving off the ground with as much force as he could muster. In an instant both Atlas and Petra found themselves up, over, then down, settling roughly in the basin that was the fountain. Curling himself into as small a ball as possible, Atlas shouted a single word of warning to the woman.




The speck that had grown in the sky now cast a shadow over the courtyard, and as the shape began to take form, violent bolts of red energy began to fall like hail. The distinctive X shape of the wings told those in the courtyard all they needed to know, and some things they'd probably not wanted to know. For example, how it felt to be hit with the full power of a laser cannon. The strafing run hit the front of the former safehouse first, dirt, rock, and debris cast into the air at the rapid staccato of the blasts. Then, as if the pilot above had heard Atlas' prayer, the cannons turned their mark onto the shiny reflective target which had begun to stalk towards the rebel's position. In a final flurry of blaster cannon fire towards the shimmering soldier, the roar of engines could be heard, shaking the street as the fighter came in low and blasted off once again. Atlas didn't know if the fighter jockey had hit his targets, but he sure hoped so - but he fought the urge to look immediately, that was asking to get his grape shot off.

#1828527 Time-check (FO's Dominion of Elrood {Hex L-51})

Posted by Atlas Viridian on 17 July 2018 - 10:38 PM



[Former] Rebellion Safehouse | Operations Center Elrood

Status: Compromised | Zeta Protocol Enacted


- - -




Oren silently watched as the woman sauntered towards him - the eerie gait with which she did so sending a final, cool chill down his spine. *This is how it ends.* he thought. For a moment time seemed to slow, freeze even. Thoughts of home flashed before his eyes, of a time before all... this... and just as abruptly his thoughts were cast into oblivion as the loud report of the blaster weapon echoed in his ears. He hadn't even registered that he'd been shot at first but then the pain came. Overwhelming.


He tried to fight the urge to scream but the pain gripped him. Once, twice - beyond that he couldn't feel anything but the violent burning of the plasma as it melted flesh and scorched bone. Oren's body collapsed unceremoniously to the floor, slumping onto his side as he gasped for air. Shuddering he struggled to crawl across the floor, blood smearing from the smoking wounds. Unable to continue he pushed himself up in one final act of defiance. Almost as if he had been struck by some invisible force, his body shook, violently seizing. Like invading roots, tendrils of pressure exerted themselves upon his mind, boring through his memories and experiences, forcibly torn from his very being. If he could have screamed he would have, but all Oren managed was a cough and a gurgling sound as his body finally failed him. As if the pain the woman had inflicted upon him hadn't been enough, she elected to deliver the final coup de grace. With an almost melodic ringing as the blade sliced through the air, Major's songsteel axe separated head from shoulders and soul from body. Thus was the death of Oren Oske, Rebel to the end.




[Former] Rebellion Safehouse
Status: Ambush Sprung, Approaching

Targets: Chrome Dome (The Major) | Solid Snake (Dresden Verbrennung)

Objective: Rescue Oren, Sian | Inflict Casualties on First Order Troops


Beside the pilot he could hear the muffled grunts as the occupants of the speeder were thrown from side to side, the air saturated with fire from the mounted turret. As Atlas glared through the viewscreen he could see a few troopers immediately go down, their armor scorched in one, sometimes two places as the hail of blaster fire ripped through them. His own blaster paled in comparison to the onslaught of the mounted weapon - but for how long? Even now, bright flashes of heated plasma tore into the metal hull of the speeder, carbon streaks beginning to obscure his view through the glass in front of him. Soon the troopers they'd surprised would figure it out. Atlas didn't expect the speeder to last much longer once that happened. It was reckless, dumb, and perhaps even suicidal, but it was the only option if they wanted to save the rebels inside.


"Hold on tight, and get ready to jump!" He yelled.


White knuckling the controls Atlas ducked low in the speeder as he gunned it forward. At first it seemed like he might just make another pass at the entrance but as they accelerated past the point of no return, his intent became much clearer. He meant to send the speeder directly into the enemy positions. Taking one hand off the controls and gripping his blaster pistol tightly he locked the throttle in place, preparing to jump at precisely the right moment. Blaster fire rattled the hull, the staccato reports against the metal sounding like raindrops in an empty bucket.


"Now Petra! Jump!"


Throwing himself wide of the speeder he tucked his shoulder. *Oof*. Despite his practiced roll, the hard contact with the ground knocked the wind from his lungs and as he came up to a knee, scrambled behind a small fountain. Atlas fought to catch his breath, a fire burning in his lungs with each breath. In less than a moment the speeder would reach its destination at full speed - he hoped Petra remembered to stay low.


The Major | Dresden Verbrennung | Petra Vitalis

#1827800 Time-check (FO's Dominion of Elrood {Hex L-51})

Posted by Atlas Viridian on 16 July 2018 - 08:23 PM



[Former] Rebellion Safehouse | Operations Center Elrood

Status: Compromised | Zeta Protocol Enacted


- - -




Stray blaster bolts singed the doorframe or what remained of it, as the chrome clad soldier strode arrogantly through the gap. Though the beverage had steeled the rebel's nerves but not his hands. Having dove free of the chair Oren now found himself horizontal - but only for a moment. With a grunt of pain he hit the floor. Hard. Oren's eyes bulged as the blaster clattered free of his grip, the nerves in his arm protesting at their sudden strike against the floor. Gasping for breath he propped himself up, slowly crawling away from the approaching trooper. *Gods that's shiny... so shiny..* The thought pervaded his entire being as he tried to focus his vision on the woman, her armor glistening menacingly as she so casually swung the songsteel axe. *What even... an axe? A bloody axe?!*


As the woman's voice carried over the vocalizer he could feel despair creeping - no, bashing its way into his mind. Forcibly taking over. Words usually quick to form now remained little more than a whisper on his trembling lips, hands quivering like that of an old seamstress. Wide eyes settling on the woman's dark visor, he sneered. If this was the end, he wouldn't give the woman the satisfaction of his terror. Though, if she were particularly vigilant, she might see a dirt smudge tear escape the very corner of his eye. In what he judged to be his final moments, he spat, the man's saliva spattering against the reflective chrome of the woman's boot. Defiant to the last.





Undisclosed Location Near [Former] Rebellion Safehouse
Status: Ambush Sprung, Approaching

Targets: Chrome Dome (The Major) | Solid Snake (Dresden Verbrennung)

Objective: Rescue Oren, Sian | Inflict Casualties on First Order Troops


Terse was Atlas' response, though he found some comfort in its familiarity. Atlas and Petra were practically a team now, present for some of the more major operations against Empires around the galaxy. He was glad for the familiar company, but it didn't keep him from gripping the controls of the speeder so tightly his knuckles turned white.


"It's bad. Very bad."


Eyes darting towards the edges of the street, Atlas swung the speeder recklessly around a corner, nearly tipping the occupants free before managing to pull back on course. *It's just a a bit farther now.* he thought to himself. In a matter of seconds they'd burst into the small courtyard in front of the safehouse, or what was left of it.


"Get ready!" he yelled above the final roar of the engines.


In another second they cut loose from the narrow street. Atlas twisted the rear end of his speeder around in a wide curve, hoping to afford Petra the widest firing arcs and putting at very least the transparisteel viewscreen between the rebels and the First Order troops. If they had done their homework, it was likely that they'd have a few precious seconds before the stormtroopers knew what had happened. After that, it was anybody's guess. Reaching an arm over the side of the speeder as they strafed across the front of the building, Atlas fired his own blaster pistol at the armor clad forms, searching for any glimpse of the Devaronian or Oren - if there was any way to yet get them out, he would die trying.


The Major | Dresden Verbrennung | Petra Vitalis

#1827622 Time-check (FO's Dominion of Elrood {Hex L-51})

Posted by Atlas Viridian on 16 July 2018 - 02:02 PM



[Former] Rebellion Safehouse | Operations Center Elrood

Status: Compromised | Zeta Protocol Enacted


- - -




Oren's voice rang in his own ears, the white hot fire which had burned its way downward now creating a warm and soothing bubble in the pit of his stomach. Clenching and unclenching his fists at his sides, the would-be martyr took a deep breath and exhaled. This was it. The big time. All things had come to this, and in his last moments Oren wasn't going to go down without a fight. Courage both native to the rebel and a result of the libation welled within his breast, jaw tensing as the sounds of movement outside grew. A momentary silence - and then he heard a voice.


::Good Day, Oren Oske. Won't you come out from your hidey hole, please? Drop all weapons from your person and we can talk. I'm positive we can reach an understanding if we only try.::


An almost singsong voice, both patronizing and genuine, it caused him a moment longer of pause. Refilling his glass with amber liquid from the desk top bottle, Oren raised his voice again. Stronger tones and an almost bitterness bit into his words. "The time for talking is over." Wet eyes scanned across those displays in front of him which yet showed the carnage of the First Order's assault. "Look around you. My friends are dead. You came in here masquerading as agents of order, of peace - is that what you see at your feet?!" Anger now filled the tenure of his voice, his mind reaching for the words he felt pouring from his heart. "You killed them, not their want for hope. Not their resistance to the tyranny of your blessed Supreme Leader. You come in the name of peace, freedom, justice, and security, but all I see is chaos!"


As his words went without response, Oren narrowed his eyes. He could hear more shuffling - no, almost a scraping at the door which for the moment held the beasts at bay. They wouldn't get in - they couldn't. No, they would. Even Oren, partially inebriated, knew that the panic room doors wouldn't hold. Not for long against the might of the First Order. Oren had watched as they had surgically inserted themselves, carried out their duty as they dealt death. A measly door wasn't going to stop them. Even as the thoughts pervaded his mind, he heard a hiss, followed by a massive flash of light. Violently he threw up his arm to cover his eyes, his free hand reaching for the drawer of the desk.


The scrape of the chair against the wooden floor, the loud creak of the drawer sqeaking as he drew it out, a rattle as its contents shifted. Blindly he reached in, fingers searching for the item he knew to be there. Behind him now, he could hear as the doors were turned to slag, an acrid smell followed by a burning in his lungs as the rebel's fingers grasped the grip of a weapon and began to withdraw it. Throwing his body towards the floor, Oren coughed out a half yell as he tried diligently to take aim in the direction of the doors.


"You'll never win! Long live the Rebellion!"




Undisclosed Location Near [Former] Rebellion Safehouse
Status: Ambush Set, Standing By


Atlas fought back the bile threatening to exhume itself from his innards. The rebel pilot hadn't felt quite right from the outset, the idea of someone volunteering to be the bait didn't sit well with him - especially given their knowledge of the First Order. They wouldn't come gently, they wouldn't be kind. The First Order would come crashing down with the weight of a thousand suns. They had.


Blood had been let, spilled by their brothers and sisters of the cause. Atlas had been forced to watch, unable to help or save them. *Not until the moment is right, or it'll all be pointless.* Each member of the Rebellion had their role - it was how they survived, it was how they kept the fight going. Atlas' was to wait for the right moment. When the First Order had inevitably reared its ugly head, they were ready, or thought they were. One thing however they hadn't accounted for. Or in this case, two.


As the troopers breached the building, Atlas had spied a figure known to him only via secondhand reports. The chrome armor reflecting the days sun was hard to miss. A woman known as "The Major" according to the intel he'd received. A strange mix between Inquisitor and Soldier, the woman had shown up on the battlefield more than once sporting her signature outfit. If she was here... they needed to make sure they succeeded. Untold horrors filled the rumors surrounding the wearer of the chrome armor and while Atlas assumed many were exaggerated, if even half of them were true they had a perfect opportunity to eliminate a monster, a true threat to their organization, a true threat to the Rebellion.


Peering carefully through the macrobinoculars, he could see the troopers moving. Gestures made by the woman indicated they were about to breach - and that's when the telltale flurry of action above caught the rebel's eye. Another figure, this one moving too fast to catch more than a glimpse of. Blaster fire rang out and Atlas knew that many of those now assaulted by the First Order strike team wouldn't make it out alive. Ducking below the parapet of the building he was on, Atlas took a deep breath and began counting. They had to be sure everything unfolded the way it was supposed to, timing was everything. But Atlas hated waiting.


The pilot couldn't resist and after only several moments of silence, he peeked once more. In the shadows of the doorway, just beyond, he caught a glimpse of a cuffed figure being escorted out - a Devaronian. *Sian* he thought. She was one of the contacts they'd met when they'd first arrived a few weeks ago. If they got her to talk, it could compromise their entire operation this side of the galaxy. It was time to move, he couldn't sit still any longer. Ducking back down, he slid quickly down a set of stairs and into an alleyway where his comrades in arms were waiting.


"We're going. Now."


Without hesitation the small gaggle of rebel fighters moved into action, jaws tensed, eyes widening. They had all been ready, but now that the moment was really here all play from their demeanor was extinguished. In the alleyway, a small wash of dust blew up as the engines of a speeder were fired up. It would take them maybe thirty to forty seconds to traverse the narrow avenue leading to the building where the others had drawn in the First Order troops. The trap was sprung, and they'd caught a shiny in the process. Vaulting up into the seat of the repurposed Seraph-class Landspeeder, Atlas only waited a millisecond to ensure his companion Petra Vitalis had managed to board before throttling them forward. In a whoosh of dirt and exhaust, they were on their way. Behind and above him, the light swivel blaster spun to life as his co-pilot prepped for contact. No turning back now, and the First Order wasn't about to have an easy day of it if Atlas had anything to say about it.


The Major | Dresden Verbrennung | Petra Vitalis

#1826180 Time-check (FO's Dominion of Elrood {Hex L-51})

Posted by Atlas Viridian on 13 July 2018 - 09:44 PM



[Former] Rebellion Safehouse | Operations Center Elrood

Status: Compromised | Zeta Protocol Enacted


- - -



Fear. It was in the air, along with the scents of piss and death, covered by a haze of burnt ozone and smoking scars of carbon. The First Order had struck, hard, fast, and without mercy. For all their bureaucratic blunder, when it came to military operations and rooting out those threats to their order, there were no cards played but the winning ones. The man sitting at the desk looked almost through the illuminated display in front of him, eyes open wide, breaths slow. Perspiration had settled upon his brow, dark stains beneath his arms and a greasy swathe of hair resting across his forehead were evidence of his anxiety - and yet he felt at peace. His brothers and sisters outside had fought the good fight, and they had died for something. For a principle. For... 


A rattle on the desk drew the man's attention, eyes falling slowly to his hand. The small glass tumbler in his hand was shaking. His hand was shaking. Deliberately he set the glass down, reaching out to the bottle next to it and uncorking it with a pop of his thumb. The cork rolled, disappearing into the corner of the dimly lit room as the amber liquid poured smoothly into the glass. Content with the amount in the glass he replaced the bottle, sighing as he picked the tumbler back up. A silent toast to the fallen, now reduced to anatomy and gristle scattered across the roof, complements of a particularly efficient Dresden Verbrennung. He'd seen it all on the display in front of him, only a handful of the cameras having been knocked out before the assault - even so, the dead deserved some formality.


Perhaps sipped too quickly, though sip was likely the wrong word for what the man had done. Upended the tumbler, the slick and smokey liquid catching momentarily in his throat, a cough giving away his position. It wouldn't be long now. So had the die been cast. Part of him expected his head to be vaporized the moment the Order discovered him, a blaster bolt would be quick - painless. Unless of course they deemed it necessary to bring him in for 'questioning'. The man had heard the horror stories of the First Order's interrogators. FOSB agents who had sold their souls to some dark deity in exchange for knowledge undeserved of any ordinary man - demons. They were demons. His fears turned to little more than subtle nagging as the liquid courage just ingested burned their way towards his stomach.


The laugh almost caught him off guard, the sound rising through the durasteel door behind him. *They must have heard that. But I don't care...* Louder the second time, his voice rose, taunting the intruders. Their executioners.


"My name is Oren Oske! I am the Rebellion! Come and get me, you dogs!"


The Major | Dresden Verbrennung

#1825340 Rebellion Network

Posted by Atlas Viridian on 12 July 2018 - 01:50 PM



Strings of data scroll across the screen, lights blinking and flashing across the console while Rebellion Analysts speak into microphones and process the incoming data.


- - -


The Rebellion grows, slowly but surely. Every new world conquered by the expanding empires of the First Order and the Sith Empire turns over another leaf to reveal new bodies for the cause. Here you can find our ever expanding network of Rebellion cells spread out throughout the galaxy. While these cells can be affiliated with the Rebellion overall, not all of them follow every instruction nor hold unerring alliance to the Rebellion. If you wish to have a rebel cell added, please fill out the template below and we will update the list!




Name of Rebel Cell: (What is your rebel cell called?)
Name of Cell Leader: (PC or NPC here)
Callsign: (What do you want your cell to be called if something different from their name?)
Location of HQ: (Planet or Location Sub here)
Primary Area of Operation: (Mid Rim, Outer Rim, Core, etc)
Link to Cell: (Codex submission or faction page here)
Relationship: (Please use one of the following to describe your cell's feeling towards the Rebellion: Hostile, Dislike(d), Neutral, Liked, Affiliated, Allied (Not belonging to "The Rebellion" but willing to work with))

If you have any questions, feel free to reach out to faction staff for clarification or information!

- - -


Rebellion Network | Known Cells

  • TBD
  • TBD
  • TBD
  • TBD

#1825327 The Spectors, Galidraani Resistance

Posted by Atlas Viridian on 12 July 2018 - 01:14 PM

The Spectors, Galidraani Resistance






Intent:To create a easily reference for the Rebellion affiliated resistance cell located on Galidraan and utilize as a plot device for future threads.

Image Credit: Johannes Palmblad, Artstation

Role: Strike Team, Local Resistance Group - Skirmishers

Links: Galidraan




Unit Name: The Spectors

Affiliation: Galidraani Resistance, The Rebellion

Classification: Light Infantry

Equipment: IED's, Molotov Cocktails, Standard Blaster Weaponry, Slugthrowers. Improvised Weapons




Availability: Unique

Deployment: Limited


  • Strengths & Weaknesses:


  • Mobile: Consisting of members of Galidraani society and having been raised locally, these resistance fighters know the lay of the land better than anyone. Because of this, they are able to travel more efficiently through population centers and can often find faster or less obvious routes as they travel.
  • High Morale: The Spectors take their Galidraani heritage seriously, it isn't just a fight against tyranny they're interested in, it's a fight for the very heart and soul of their home. A fight for survival. As such, they're unlikely to rout easily or balk at a setback.
  • Industrious/Creative: Due to their lack of modern supplies and equipment and the lack of monetary capability to purchase such things, the Spectors have learned how to get creative both in combat and with their strategy when it comes to resisting. When it comes to taking the fight to the enemy, you'd better be prepared for some 'Out of the box' thinking.
  • Low Manpower: Unlike many other worlds where recruitment might be easier due to the heavy handed tactics employed by those such as the Sith Empire or the First Order, Galidraan hasn't suffered at the hands of her perceived captors. Life is more or less normal for many who call the world home. As such, the manpower the Spectors can bring to bear is limted and recruitment is difficult.
  • Outdated technology: Much of the Spectors armory is outdated. Holdout blasters, old sporting blasters, old blast vests if any. Armor is all but nonexistent, and shielding units are even rarer. Due to the lack of steady supply and outdated equipment, they can't hold up in a head on fight for long in comparison to conventional military or security forces.
  • Emotional Entanglements: Because of their overall lack of manpower, the Spectors have formed a close bond with each other. Brothers, sisters, friends - they're close and in a very real way, closer than family to each other. While their morale is generally high, losing a friend or a family member is never easy. Because of their tight knit bond, they can be more susceptible to manipulation or making rash decisons.



The Spectors formed shortly after the arrival of the Sith Empire on Galidraan's doorstep. Unlike some conquered worlds, Galidraan remained at peace with the Empire. Despite the less than raucous turnover and increased Empire presence on the planet, not all of the citizens were happy about their lot. While for many, life changed little, to these few it was as if their world had been put on end - and if it wasn't a threat to their way of life now, it would be later.

A small band of like minded citizens bound together, gathering what supplies they could, maintaining secret lines of communication as to their efforts to delay and put roadblocks in the way of further progress. It started out with little things, cutting power lines to businesses known to do work for their new overlords. Stolen goods from warehouses known to supply Sith forces. It had started out non-violent, but over the weeks things have begun escalating. With the success of the Rebellion in the Rimcee sector, a new wave of fervor and anti-imperial sentiment has run through the lower classes - but it's still not easy. The risks of being labeled a rebel outweigh the benefits of any action the Spectors might take. It is due to this that recruitment is slow. That and the ever present danger of being discovered and handed over to the Sith to be dealt with.

In terms of operation, the Spectors act as front line skirmishers. Their goal primarily to harass and wear down any resolve of the enemy. One might rarely catch a glimpse of the group, much less meet them head on in combat. Ill equipped for a frontal assault, the Spectors use their superior knowledge of the locale and mobility to their advantage. Not laden down by armor or procedure, they can just as easily appear in one place for a moment, and in the next somewhere else entirely.


-- -- --

#1824754 Vestra Llewellyn

Posted by Atlas Viridian on 11 July 2018 - 02:41 PM

Vestra Llewellyn, Core & Deep Core Regional Commander







  • Intent: Create a regional “Command” NPC for The Rebellion, to add flavor to the faction and create a structure to the organization.

  • ​Image Credit: Kuba Grzybowski, Artstation

  • Role: Rebellion Commander, Regional (Core, Deep Core)

  • Links: N/A


  • Age: 27

  • Force Sensitivity: Non-Force User

  • Species: Human

  • Appearance: The most striking of Vestra's features are her tattoos. Covering her arms and body, it leaves no doubt that there are even more hidden beneath her clothing. Dark makeup often gives her a more serious appearance, sometimes even obscuring the distinction between what is makeup and what are tattoos. Often clad in robes of black and white, Vestra sports a lithe form, dark hair and eyes adding to the mystique with which she carries herself. She has no need for false names or disguises as most of her work is conducted out of they prying eyes of the Empire or the Order - or those with significant enough sway to pose a threat.


  • Name: Vestra Llewellyn

  • Loyalties: The Rebellion

  • Wealth: Above Average

  • Notable Possessions: Clutch of vials containing poisons and needles, Micro-vibrodagger, Concealed Throwing Knives. Secured link to Rebellion Command.

  • Skills: Negotiation, Subterfuge, Information Gathering

  • Personality: Cold as ice. A Coruscanti native, Vestra is well versed in the language and atmosphere of the underworld. Weakness isn't an option. Though she may appear to be up front and direct, her true skill lies in her ability and penchant for subterfuge. If there's one thing you'll never see, it'll be the day Vestra smiles. The woman exudes a bitter and detached exterior, but truthfully she is quite passionate about her part in the Rebellion's network.


  • Weapon of Choice: Poison, Slander, Misdirection

  • Combat Function:

    • Spy, Assassin, Diplomat: A lady of mystery, if you can call her a lady at all. Vestra isn't above using nefarious means to debase opponents and achieve her goals - or the Rebellion's. Generally considered one of the more "Wildcard" Commanders of the Rebellion, she seems to have her eyes and ears everywhere in the Core from Chandrila to Borleias. Vestra herself prefers to use weapons of subterfuge, a vibroblade in the back, a distraction, even going so far as to turn her enemies against each other instead of facing them directly.


Formerly a high ranking member of "The Lost Ones", Vestra saw the threat the rapid expansion of the First Order and the Sith Empire posed to the galaxy at large, but more importantly to the vital lines of trade and smuggler's lanes which spanned outward from the core. Though she initially joined the Rebellion for personal gain, she has begun to develop a sense of belonging that she never really had with The Lost Ones. Not only this, but her experience with multiple crime rings has provided numerous contacts with which the Rebellion has been able to secure both equipment and supplies (albeit low grade).


With her focus on the Core and Deep Core, Vestra is familiar with worlds such as Empress Teta, Coruscant, Duro, Abregado-Rae, and a plethora of others. Her familiarity with common smuggling lanes and methods aid her well in her role with the Rebellion. Though the core remains just outside the reach of the First Order or the Sith Empire, she is wary of blockades and interdiction activities that have in the past inhibited her ability to both acquire wealth as well as aiding the Rebellion in their efforts across the galaxy. Though she has her own reasons for joining the Rebellion, she plays her cards extremely close to her chest. Because of this she is often treated with thinly veiled distrust, though to date her information has yet to be proven unreliable.