A Slave By Any Other Name [CIS Dominion | Z-41]

[Eternal Vengeance]

Bresnia was a world of endless plains, fertile ground and plentiful water. For years it was of little importance, beyond its closeness to the Mara Corridor. However, thirty some odd years ago a single man changed it, and turned the backwater planet, into an agricultural world able to feed many worlds. It's lush fields, large pastures, and vibrant cities made the place idyllic to many. As its wealth increased, this so called Governor Vlick Verrington secured his power. A private security force was brought onto the planet, to defend it from threats internal and external. However, as wealth and prosperity filled the planet, the lust for power and ever increasing wealth began to bring harm to it's people.

A good twenty-five percent of the population were forced into indentured servitude, chained to their farms to pay off debts they could never honestly repay in many life times. They had just enough freedom, comfort, reason to live, and hope to not openly rebel for fear of losing even that, but they do not get to leave, choose their jobs, or own property. Sadly, when they couldn't pay off their debts, it went to their wives, husbands, and children. They were slaves. The rich get much richer, while the poor live in sickness, and ever growing poverty. Even the middle class are beginning to grow restless about the governor. But only the high class are allowed to vote. Resentment is boiling over, as public dissenters disappear due to the Governors private security forces. The population is crying out for freedom, and many of the leaders of the rebellion forces have reached out to the CIS to help set them free.

For months agents of the Confederacy have been sneaking in medicine and weapons, to heal the sick, and give them the strength and ability to fight back. The heart of the battle is taking place in Verrington City, the current Capital of Bresnia, and is being overseen by an older Twi'lek woman, known as Mom. Mom's Diner in the heart of the city, doubles as the undercover base for the coming storm of rebellion.

At last, it is time to take everything back. CIS personnel are landing on the planet, disguised as investors, workers, tourists and the like, while smugglers are bringing in their weapons, armor, and everything else they will need to take on the threat. How will you aid these people? Are you here to bring them supplies, to convince them to fight, and heal the sick? Perhaps, you are here to lead the rebel forces to bring down the governor and his security forces? Or maybe, there is another, more personal reason. However, the gears of destiny now turn, and whatever the cause, the roar of Rebellion has begun.



Objectives:

Supply the rebellion, find sympathetic ears, uncover information, or bring medicine to the weak and wounded. Give them the strength to resist the occupation of the people who push them down.

Fight and destroy the security forces that act as the Governor's enforcers. Bring down their armory, and storm the gates of the Governor's palace along with the rebel forces.

Rebel! Find your own objective within the city, and create panic, or just sit back and observe. Perhaps you will find a good source of tea, or something else worth your while.



(Special thanks to Dizzy for the art work!)

 

[Nika Satari]

Location: Governors palace
Objective: Business dealings
Outfit: https://tse2.mm.bing.net/th?id=OIP.M62X3MF8fLBite2tM5xCMQDMEy&pid=Api&w=750&h=1125&rs=1&p=0
Equipment: KC-95 blaster pistol, knife hidden in suit coat.

“Well met Governor Verrington.” Nika stepped from the doorway, head bowed a little in respect to the man who ruled the planet with an iron fist.

“Nika…” Governor Verrington paused in his tracks. “You surprise me yet again.”

"My lords wishes leave me with little respite Governor, although i'm sure you too know all about that."

"I'm well aware of his demand for new stock, has he sent you to grovel and flatter me for a new deal?."

Glancing up, the half Umbaran saw a flash of bone-blonde teeth through the Governors neatly arranged beard. A smile, as she’d thought. Cowardly, ambitious, Vlick Verrington had been made by money and the oppression of others. His purchased pride made every bowed head, bent knee, and every subject sweet as honey. Nika knew the feeling in her own way: the headiness of something not truly earned. Playing humble and foolish with thanks would get her far here.

“Not flattery, Governor. Just respect where it’s due. I’m grateful you agreed to speak with me.”

“Come, come. Formalities have their times and places but really, does this look like either?” Verrington gestured to his office at the opposite end of the hallway. “I’m in dire need of a drink, and time means money for the both of us. Let’s not waste it, Miss Satari."

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

"My lord may expect others to be patient, but he is not a patient man," Nika said, painfully neutral in her delivery, "The agreement was that you would ship us six thousand of the cargo per month, and in return, you would receive five hundred credits per slave for your product," Nika frowned slightly and took a drink from her cup of wine, "why are we only receiving five thousand? we have a demand to be met and with the recent crackdowns, we are running at a loss Governor Verrington."

The Governor blinked for a moment before he exhaled deeply and turned to look at the representative before him.

"All slaves are accounted for and duly sent to the given coordinates, any missing cargo is none of my concern once it leaves the planet."

“Oh... but it is your problem now, we've been having this little problem for a while.” Chastened, sipping at the bitter wine, Nika cut to the heart of the matter. “Just bits and pieces here and there since relative order returned in the wake of the wars raging between the First order and Galactic alliance. Imports arriving as usual, but short a little of what’s been ordered have been turning up. A supply ship here, a shipment there. Pirates perhaps? Or corrupt elements within? I—… i can't profess to know much, with our rivals laying low i've been practically pushing paper since then...”

"I'll send whatever intel i can to your superiors, i'd like to uphold our already standing agreements and keep the profits flowing."

Nikas eyes narrowed as she detected the slightest bit of weariness in Verringtons, as if he didn’t all-together enjoy the knowledge that someone was interfering with one of his sources of income, but it was gone as soon as she blinked. She had little time to evaluate her situation. All she knew was that the Governor was at least willing to help solve a mutual problem plaguing both sides.

"We welcome it with open arms, whatever keeps the gold flowing for both sides." Nika nodded and cast a soft smirk, gazing into the near empty contents of her cup before looking up at Verrington.

"Lets talk the statistics shall we?"

 

[Luna Terrik]

​

Post #1
Location: Staging Area outside the city
Objective: Cripple the defenses by destroying the armory
Allies: Any and all dauntless that want to join, as well as anyone storming the armory

Helmet under one arm, Luna Terrik walked out of the command tent, coming out of the final briefing meeting where she gave the final orders to the lieutenants and sergeants that had landed with her. Their mission was to storm the planet’s main armory, where oppressive weapons of the government were stored. It was centrally located in the city so that it could launch it’s tanks, super troopers, and heavy police units with ease into any point of the sprawling metropolis with ease. It being the largest armory on the planet meant that it was the most heavily guarded as well. It would take a force the size of a small army to completely destroy the government building.

Well, it’s a good thing that the Dauntless Legion had been called in, isn’t it?

The plan was set out clearly for all of the higher officers at this point, who would be relaying it to the men under their command. Everything was set, and soon, the legion would be storming through the streets, on their way to cripple one of the most necessary aspects of this oppressive government regime. Complete their mission, and there would be less reinforcements headed to the main capital building, and those that were storming that would have a much easier time.

Taking a deep breath, possibly to calm her nerves, possibly to bring her thoughts back to the moment at hand. Pulling the helmet from under her arm, she flipped in once in her hands and slipped it over the top of her head. The new armor, curtsey of Darth Metus himself, fit the commander perfectly, feeling more like a second, much stronger, second skin that clung tightly to her body. It’s grey markings, specifically a grey wolf on the front of her mask, gave the armor a distinct look to it as well, meaning it would be easily recognized in a crowd of similarly crowded legion soldiers. For better or worse.

The ground crunched softly under her boots as she approached the back of the staging area, where the sound of shuttles beginning to get revved up could be heard. There would be one force on the ground, supported by Gorgon assault speeders, and the other part of the force would rappel in from shuttles once the outer perimeter had been secured. It would be a two fold attack that there was no way the armory could sustain.

Finding her shuttle was easy enough, and as the commander hopped on board, she was greeted by similarly different colored Dauntless Commandos. They would storm the armory together, just as they always did. Together, in victory or in defeat.

 

[Labkahip Mordulla]

Location: Rural Farm
Post: 1
Peps: Open to interaction
Equipment Supplied to Rebles: SBCR, MAH, MAM, CHM, SR-1

So this is what is was like, to be the rebels for once, certainly a different experience that was for sure, the secrecy, known who the enemy was but also knowing you were hidden away, but at the same time wary of them in case they caught on. Not knowing if the local security would properly check the crates of supplies you were shipping in and finding the stacks of weapons smuggled for the populous to use in the coming rebellion. The suspection was quite exhilarating to say the least, even though knowing in the end that they would wind did take out the surprise factor for the whole operation.

As she looked around the small crowd of farmers look on with hopefully eyes was still quite the nice feeling, warmth welling up inside her chest from each of their stares. Behind her, crates holding varying items from her company, most being of medical design but quite a few being her mas relatively inexpensive and generic armor and arms. Such would help in case they were discovered and hopefully not lead back to the CIS itself, that and they could be made and shipped off in large number at the fly, good for such an occasion as this.

That would come in time, right now her main job was getting the sick and needy taken care of, at the end of the day her company was mainly in the medical business and today such tools would be put to the test again. "Okay I need those in need of care put aside for tending too, have them slip up into groups depending on their ailments, physical injuries, illnesses, malnutrition and dehydration". "Those of you who are able and willing to fight line up to the side and get your gear, it's not much but we can't risk bringing in to much tech savvy suits". That and she wasn't certain these simple farmers would be able to properly operate or have the physical capability to wear some of the CIS more advanced suits.

 

[OOM-330]

Location: Bresnia, Verrington City, Mom's Diner
Objective: Secure the Diner, Await Command
Allies: Confederacy of Independent Systems, Bresnian Rebels
Unit: x14 B-Series B1 Battle Droids + OOM-330 (OOM Series Command Battle Droid)

---

---

​

Below the floor of the unassuming diner, beneath the patron's feet, crouched in stand-by mode fourteen B1 battle droids in two rows of seven. At the head of the squat formation was a droid with vibrant yellow markings, OOM-330, a command droid of centuries old design. This squad of droids had laid dormant awaiting command for nearly a month. Today their orders came. In unison the the fifteen droid formation made a clacking noise, joints releasing tension, their arms moved out from their knees. Then the droids lifted their torsos from their knees at which point the right arm of every droid reached onto its back and withdrew its standard issue blaster "Roger Roger." OOM-330 announced in confirmation of having received the activation command from the Confederacy.

OOM-330 turned on his heel and looked to his subordinate formation "Our orders are to secure this building, don't shoot anyone who looks like an ally or harmless." the B1s nodded and looked between each other in a chorus of "Roger Roger!" and "You got it boss." OOM-330 pointed towards a nondescript B1 and then pointed towards the stairs that led up to the lobby of the diner "You first." And so the dutiful droid marched up the stairs, follow by the rest of his comrades. The patrons, those of who were not in on the rebellion plans, looked shocked to see battle droids emerge from the celler. The droids fanned out around the interior of the building quickly taking up positions at the windows and doors while OOM-330, who was bringing up the rear, stood front and center "This building is now in possession of the Confederacy of Independent Systems."

The droid commander then pulled a holographic communicator from his waist and activated it, to send a message to the dauntless commander ( [member='Luna Terrik'] ) outside of the city "OOM-330 here. Building secure, looks like a bunch of civilians." he reported. Meanwhile one of the B1s pointed and declared, at the front of the diner "Look! Those ones have blasters!" OOM-330 looked away from the communicator "That's the enemy, stupid! Blast 'em!" he ordered in annoyance. The B1s at the front of the store opened fire on the two enforces across the street from them. The volley of blaster bolts quickly killed one enforcer and wounded another who dropped behind a speeder bike clutching his thigh. The droids were not being quiet about this, there would be no mistaking that there had been a large amount of blaster fire from the diner's relative vicinity. OOM-330 looked back to the communicator and shrugged "Well, I guess they know we're here now." The B1s that had been shooting at the enforcers continued to fire at the speeder, which was no being chewed up by bolts, since they knew something was still behind it "I got one!" exclaimed the B1 that had secured a kill. Not bad for a reported 37% kill rate.

 

[Khia Varad]

Location: Diner Shootout.
Objective: Her kind of politics - Burn them straight to hell!
With: [member="Luna Terrik"] | [member="OOM-330"]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=raUCnM9Tifc
6 of em.
​

The number and variety of units available to the CIS were envious. Among them, were six mean looking red Mandalorian supercommandos from Clan Varad, the clan symbol on their chest and shoulder. Their Cabur Beskargam was top of the line from the CIS armory these days, with wrist shield, jet pack, grapple and the works in there. Add to that the occasional work Varad did for the arms company Fire For Effect and they were supplied exotic weaponry to top that off.

The transport they were on touched down to a rush of air, the six crusaders headed straight into the firefight, Good to be home. Near the droids, not on top of them. Khia and Seka looked at each other, keen to keep the kill count going between them. Seka usually one-upped her, not today. Seka did her usual punch to Khia's shoulder, Khia grunted in defiance.

All six of them fired the jetpack to take them a nearby roof. Nice view.

“Oya Vode!”

There was a shout back from the roof top, and that speeder soon found itself cut down in a hail of exotic weapons fire, everything from slugs, to sonic, to a freezing spray which caused its engine to lock and the vehicle to skid out of control into a nearby wall. Pretty Khia thought. Another speeder that tried to pull away was picked off from a now smoking sniper rifle, its driver almost had his head taken clean off. Seka nailed the sniper shot the first try and turned around smug as she usually was. Khia swore a few times under breath, her battlesister was already one up.

“Crusaders on site.” Khia bluntly said to [member="OOM-330"] | [member="Luna Terrik"] over comms.

Gear:

Spoiler

Armor: Cabur Beskargam, Weapons: 1x MRS-1 (Hands) 1x Icebreaker (Back) 2x Jackknifes (Hip), Melee: 1 x Vibrolasso, 1 x Force Pike, Grenade Belt: x5 Mixed Nade, Gear: Targeting Visor, Lifeform Detector, x1 General Personal Shield (Blaster/Temperature)

NPCs:

Spoiler

6 Supercommandos From Clan Varad

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

---

​

---

​

Wearing: xxx
w. [member="Alwine Lechner"]
Post: 1

There was nothing complex about this mission, and it was just as Gerwald liked it. Life had been recently complex for the Knight Obsidian, and he was determined to simplify it. That began with figuring out exactly what had been bothering Alwine, why they seemed to always come back to the same things. Gerwald had hoped they finally closed that part of their past. Today they were on Bresina to close out what had been months in preparation. Many rumors and words had been spread to lay the groundwork for a rebellion that was being sponsored and started by the Confederacy. The best way to do that was to get the people to rise up on their own, and then make it look like they were there for the people.

Gerwald's mission. Take out the guards at the governor's mansion and let the people take over from there. He would kill them all.

At his side was the only woman in his life that had always been there for him. His sister Alwine. They were the only ones left it seemed of the only remaining Lechners that had pledged themselves to the Confederacy. Gerwald had been going through a crisis of his own identity lately. He had been introduced to a new philosophy, a reason to use his power and be angry. Gerwald was going to channel that anger today.

"Leave none of them alive today."

 

[Luca Donskoi]

[SIZE=12pt]Location: [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]Verrington City[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=12pt]Objective: [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]Something Stupid[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=12pt]Attire: [/SIZE]Flight Suit (w/ helmet & gloves)​

[SIZE=12pt]Armament: [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]KC-95 “Ace of Spades” Blaster Pistol[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=12pt]Tags: [/SIZE][SIZE=12pt]None[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=12pt]This was just dumb. It was crazy. He was a fighter pilot, not a soldier. Yet…yet this is what they were asking of him? Sure, he was headstrong, hardy and loyal to a fault, but to subject himself to this was just insane. Was this what he could really come to suspect from the Confederacy? Honestly? [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]He shook his head as he went through the plan over and over and over again in his head, and did what he could to mentally prepare himself for the insanity that was going to unfold. This was just stupid and although he didn’t want to do it, this is what it had come to. And by God, these Confederate types must be overflowing with credits if they were willing to commit to this. Even if it was an old and outdated ship, the was no logical explanation for what they wanted him to do with it. But they were his orders, however idiotic they were.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]But what was this plan, you might ask? Let’s just say in short, it was a lot of garbage that would lead to his intentional capture at the hands of the Governor’s Enforcers, and provided they did not just outright kill him, they’d torture him and try to get information from him, all while he was supposed to gather what intel he could from them. It didn’t make sense and whoever condoned the distribution of these orders, likely did so without the knowledge or go ahead of the CDF higher ups. Such was the galaxy we lived in, where things were warped in such ways as to do something like this. There had to have been better methods available, but this is what he had to work with now.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Alden ran his hand over the top of his helmet which sat on his knee within the cockpit of the dated transport starfighter he was supposed to operate for the first portion of this insane operation. He breathed in deep and exhaled in a sigh, shaking his head disapprovingly in the cockpit once again. The ship was unmarked and showed no ties to the Confederacy. For all intents and purposes, he was not even a member of the CDF for this. At least not until after his capture.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]“Well here goes nothing,” Alden muttered to himself as he began to flip through the knobs and switches, initiating the start up sequence of the vessel. The engines rumbled to life and the panel in the cockpit came to life with a number of whistles and flashes of light. The computer ran its own automatic diagnostic routine and pinged as it was complete and singled that all systems for firing and ready to go. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Alden pulled his helmet over his head and pulled the canopy closed. He leaned his head back and shut his eyes, running through the operation a final time before he set himself to actually go forward with it. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Within moments the ship lifter and soared out of the hangar and down toward the planet’s surface below; it was on a b-line for the capital and wasn’t stopping. It didn’t respond to hails nor communications attempts and once identified as a threat by some of the defenses of the city, a volley of fire came in his direction. This was it. This was the first part of this idiotic operation. Get shot down as a hostile and ‘survive.’[/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]It didn’t take long for the vessel to fracture and be rendered inoperable, a point at which Alden thumbed a few controls which started the sequence of his ejection. In a flash, the thrusters incorporated into the seat powered him through and into the open as the vessel spun fleetingly out of control on an impact course for the city’s southern wall. It erupted into a flurry of flames as it proceeded to apply very little damage from the impact. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=12pt]Step one was complete. Now onto operation insanity part 2.[/SIZE]

 

[Pei Ven]

Objective: Kill the Governor along with the Rebels.


Pei piloted the freighter towards the planet. At his side, was one of the Clone Troopers, a Corporal who worked more with the Adjudant. They had spent the last few tricks getting to know one another, practicing, and training. It was a good way to pass the time. The Corporal, was named Blink, and was the right hand of their little Sith Mandalorian Second in command. Pei found her cute....and creepy. Figured that sounded about right for someone like her.

The last of the medicine was in the hold, as well as a the last pieces of the plan. Oh he was sure violence would spring up on the planet in a heart beat. Hopefully they would miss it just barely, so they could land with the weapons and armor. The Adjudant's, his own, and Blink's armor, and gear were stored away. It was time to move.

“Heading into the planet now Blink, get ready buddy.” The clone nodded, and leaned back into the chair. “Right.” Flipping some switches, Pei made the call in, and got landing clearance. The entry and landing was like butter. A button push and the cargo hold doors opened for the cargo inspectors. All they would find was exotic food stuffs, herbs and spices. Once cleared, Pei went outside and spread his arms, as a mature blue twi'lek woman approached. “MOM! Miss me?!”

The woman rolled her eyes. “Pei....why would I miss you at all, you obnoxious twit.” The woman huffed. Pei grinned at her.

“Pfft, don't be like that. I brought you good spices, herbs, and foods the like you haven't seen! It will blow your mind. I promise you.”

“Pei, why do I feel like you are trying to buy forgiveness....what are you planning?”

“Why, my lady, I am harmed. I have no intention of trying anything!”

“Anything, again you mean?”

“Oh, you wound me, twas just a little playing is all.”

“Uhuh, my daughter doesn't seem to think it was playing.”

The man winces and Blink just shakes his head, carrying out boxes in his broad arms, like they were toys. Droids slowly unload the rest of the cargo hold, making sure to get the hidden cargo. Pei just smirks. “Ah well, I'll behave, I promise. You'll like what I brought you, you have my word.”

After the interaction was done, Pei, Blink, Mom and the droids all headed to the diner, where the boxes were sorted, with a good number of them going downstairs. “We are almost ready, Mom. Did you let the little one know we arrived?”

Mom nodded. “Yes, contacted her as soon as you landed. She was looking forward to seeing Sir Blink, I believe. Of you, she made no mention.” The older woman teased and walked downstairs. Once down, she opened one of the boxes, staring at the armor within. Blink placed a hand on her shoulder. “Not yet...this one isn't ours. However, over here.” The Clone stared at the Dauntless helmet before putting the lid back on. The Clone and Pei showed her the armor and weapons they had received. “We also have the last of the medicine. It will have to be enough for now. It just means we have to move very soon.” Pei said softly. “Gather everyone we can. Soon, this planet will erupt, we need to take the Governor down, while we can.”

Mom stayed silent for a moment, and then brought up a comm to her lips. “Bring in everyone. It's time.”

 

[Kainan Wolfe]

​

Post #1​

Soundtrack: No one walks away from me​

Objective: Start a revolution​

Equipment: Personal Molecular Shield | Wither | The Triad | Shroudsaber | The All-Seeing Eye | KC-47 Assault Rifle | KC-77N Pistol​

Attn: [member="Anton Delane"]​

​

​

"...Of all the depraved sins in this galaxy, there is none worse than slavery.​

To deprive one of the chance to succeed or fail, for the sake of easy profit​

and unearned comfort, is as destructive as the Jedi coddling of the weak and lazy.​

Those who commit themselves to this abomination must be shown no mercy​

and given no reprive. For them, only a slow and painful death is a fate​

befitting of their degeneracy..."​

​

• Bresnia
  Sector 17, Day of the attack

They were lying in the tall grass, soaked to the skin with the morning dew which had yet to evaporate under the budding rays of the rising sun. A few hundred meters ahead of them, lay the massive wall which separated Sector Command from the lush world beyond. Within, the Sector Overseer and his cronies would soon be waking up to enjoy their lavish breakfast and enjoy the fruits of the back-breaking labor of those they oppressed.

For years, the planet's upper class had enjoyed a life of leisurely excess and debauchery, fed by the broken lives of untold millions which toiled in the factories and fields beneath their fancy manors. Slavers, the most vile and depraved of all creatures to ever walk this galaxy, had made Bresnia their utopia of sin. For years, they have brutally crushed the poor under the weight of their ever-fattening boot. Today, that would end.

They were lying in the tall grass, soaked to the skin in the morning dew which had begun to evaporate under the warm and gentle kiss of the rising sun. Throughout the night, they had crawled up to the edge of the defensive perimeter that now stood between them and the fortress on the other side. A few hundred meters and a massive wall were all that separated them from what the blood they sought to spill.

The wall was about to be removed.

Above them, a rickety, but fast freighter flew low over the plains, speeding towards its final destination and ignoring the voice from the comms which ordered it to change course and fly away. The droid that piloted the small ship, a KS-5500 'Razorback' light freighter which was common in the Confederacy and beyond, had been programmed to think that the way to avoid the growing obstacle in front of him, was to accelerate towards it.

One of the fortress' defense cannons fired, a crimson bolt of plasma racing towards the freighter, connecting, tearing a hole through its belly. A second shot tore off the cockpit, vaporizing the lone droid within it. It did not matter, the fort's lazy, overconfident guards had been neglectful in their duties and by the time they noticed the ship, it was already too late. The freighter darted over the fields of grass below on wings of smoke and fire, leaped over the defensive perimeter and slammed into the wall with a final, thundering roar.

An explosion. The a shockwave, which shook the world around it, sweeping dust into their eager faces. When their eyes opened, an entire section of the wall had collapsed, leaving behind a smoking pile of rubble and screams and bits of bodies. It was what they had been waiting for. With screams of bloodlust on their lips, the insurgents rose from the tall grass and charged into the inferno ahead.

----------------​

​

• Bresnia
  Sector 17, A week before the attack

The corrupt authorities of Bresnia had grown complacent, secure in their beliefs that a few obscure laws and some clever wording had hidden them from the watchful gaze of the galaxy beyond. They had not escaped notice. Ever watchful, the Confederacy kept an eye out for worlds such as these, planets infested by the plague of slavery that needed to be cleansed.

Bresnia was such a world. And for months, the Confederates had been quietly building a resistance, unassuming freighters carting weapons and supplies to the surface, authorities bribed off or simply tricked into believing nothing was there. Slowly, subtly, a rebellion was formed. Slaves were given rifles and were then taught to fight. Secret caches of ammunition and explosives were distributed amongst hidden safehouses and a plan was formed to rid the world of slavery and give the downtrodden a taste for justice.

Dressed as a common bounty hunter, his lightsabers hidden inside cleverly designed pockets on his sleeves, Darth Tacitus stepped off the ramp of the small freighter and reached below, grabbing a handful of dirt and rubbing it into his taloned hands, as he often did on the eve of battle. It was an old habit he had picked up in his mercenary days, one of the few he had not cast aside.

He wore a set of simple, olive-colored military fatigues and a ballistic vest with pockets attached to it. His visible weapons were the assault rifle slung over his shoulder and a small pistol tucked away into a holster on his vest. And a longsword hanging from his hip, but the attending customs officer gave it and his cat-like eyes and deadly claws only a cursory glance before moving on. It was nothing unusual, to see a mercenary carrying a sword.

A contact was due to pick them off from the cluster of small warehouses and the few patches of dirt that served as one of the local spaceports, but his spy knew more than that. Slipping back into the role that had once been his life, Tacitus leaned against a pile of crates, checking his rifle for the thousandth time as they awaited the arrival of the rebel courier.

 

[Ria Misrani]

​

Supplies.

Supplies the Hutts could do, Ume watched as the locals ran back and forth, anarchy was brewing. "Guns, guns, guns and more guns - oh and shields, gotta have some defense." She said aloud, doing her best to gather the people so she could sell. Profit was the name of the game and sure, the Confederacy would end up winning the world but the cartel would be able to win the profits. That was all that Sotta cared about, "yes, here you go, nice blaster - and here you go a rifle for you, thank you, thank you." More wheeling and dealing, more waving over those who needed weapons. Ume looked behind her at the stall, they were set up with a small speed-freighter opened up as they handed down more crates. "Explosives, yes, here you go - there go blow something up."

Another look at the freighter, it was still half-full or half-empty depending on how one looked at it. Ume preferred half-full in this insistance.

 

[Alwine Daye]

Location: Manor
Wearing: Obsidian type Strike Armor | "Executor" Boots Exclusive
Wielding: Obsidian Knight Sword
Tags: [member="Gerwald Lechner"]



In truth, Alwine had not wanted to go on this mission. If I had not been for the fact she got to team up with her brother for it, she would've bowed out entirely before boarding the shuttle that would take them to Bresnia. There was little motivation left within the petite Lupine after recent events; the endless fights with her brother had taken their toll on her, the spice she had consumed on Delta IV had made her feel shame down to her very core, and her inability to follow through on any of the millions of directions she had attempted to take had made things even worse.

Alwine had prided herself her entire life on knowing exactly who and what she was. Yet now, it seemed that these grounds, these very foundations that made her who and what she was, were crumbling beneath her feet. And while it was true that she had berated Gerwald for not having friends, she had realized that she had none either; none that were close enough to discuss these matters with, on any account, or alive enough ones, and she did not wish to burden her brother with it. Not when it appeared that something had sparked a new vigor in him anew.

As Gerwald gave the order, Alwine nodded and drew her sword out.

"Would they come out if we brought the mansion crumbling down?" she wondered out loud, looking at the manor. It was surrounded, as all manors were, by much grass and some trees. It was the perfect damage ground for Alwine, who prided herself on her control of plants and life that grew like that. "Or perhaps I could get us a vine to the top floor and we could make our way out in a river of blood."

 

[Adron Malvern]

​

Objective: Deliver weapons to Rebel Cell | Wearing: This... | Tags: [member="Alessandra Creed"]​

​

"You have clearence to land in Sector 14-Bravo, have a nice day Captain Lodan." A voice called over the ship's communication terminal, finally giving the man a reason to shut the damned thing off. His hand gave a brief wave as the terminal offered a silent beep while it was powered down. The Exarch crossed his arms over his chest as he pinched the bridge of his nose. He'd been dealing with a headache for the better part of the trip, likely because this damned Freighter was as smooth a ride as a drunk Rancor. Exhaling, likely for the fiftieth time today, his eyes danced over the terminal to make sure everything was in order for their landing. The Exarch adjusted his sleeve, contorting his face at the cheap material his clothes were made of. Operation Security require the Exarch to take on an alias and a disguise, but he never thought they'd tell him not to wear one of his suits. Apparently he was a bit too noticeable when dressed in his station. For the time being he would deal with the cheap clothing, but when he was done he was going to find something decent for the next time he had to do this.

After activating the autopilot, Adron stood up and drew his back into a long stretch. He really did not care for flying, yet this was the requirements of the mission so he'd have to continue to deal with it. The Exarch tapped a button that illuminated the cockpit, and in turn the rest of the ship that had been cloaked in darkness.

His hand fell to the panel near the cockpit door, watching as it flew open into it's host. Passing through the threshold Adron made his way to the cargo area. Luckily the security forces had not stopped him to check his goods, they assumed he was one of the hundreds of trade ships bringing tools and speeders to the world. He stepped into a larger part of the ship that had a few scattered crates here and there, but overall a light load. His crystal blue eyes drank in the room before his hand rose, a slight shift in the Force as it did. Those few crates that had been in the cargo hold were pushed against the wall. The floor began to shake violently until it was revealed as a false floor. A few of the panels began to shift and move until finally the true cargo was revealed.

Below the floor were more crates, but these were not the standard shipping crates one would find in a transport ship. No, these crates were jet black and had the Confederate logo on them. Each one held a number of weapons in it, but total there was enough to equip a small army. After doing a quick count, Adron turned back into the main hall. He was in a noticeably bad mood, but still for a brief minute a smile crept on his lips. He made his way to a door and it opened at his presence. The darkness that fell over the room caused him to pause but when he reached out with the Force he could feel exactly what he was looking for. She had just came out of the refresher when Adron stepped forward, resting his hands on her waist and pulling her close in to him.

[member="Alessandra Creed"] was shrouded in darkness but still he could recognize every feature she had. He placed a hand over her abdomen and smiled softly. "We're almost there." He said, before pressing his lips to hers. He gave her a soft kiss before his hand reached back to the door panel, turning the light on.

"How are you feeling?" He pressed his hand to Alessandra's cheek before taking hold of it and smiling down at her.

 

[Anton Delane]

Weeks Ago:

Tacitus was undercover, ready to meet the agent sent to the planet long ahead of time. For nearly a month, along with another CIS agent, Anton had gone undercover as one of the new enforcers for the Governor in the outer settlements. Clad head to toe in a unique set of black enforcer armor. While much of the battle would take place in the Capital city, Anton saw the writing on the wall. The outer realm overseers had a strong rip on their territories. Even if the Governor was taken out, even if the Capital was freed, unless something was done to strike at the same time, the overseers would make the battle drag on, and countless innocents would lose their lives.

This was a standard incite uprising up, almost text book. Undercover, he had smuggled part of the medicine shipments Operative Ven had brought down, to these outer sectors. Weapons had been brought in for a small portion of them as well. It wasn't nearly enough to overtake the area yet, but, it had made the slaves more confident in their choice. But there were several leaders they still needed to convince before it would be a force large enough to take over these areas. And more importantly, the Immortal Emperor had come to oversee the operation personally. Anton took no offense, they had worked like this on countless operations. Tacitus was just a man who liked to oversee things personally, for the blood and blame to be on his own hands.

He walked up to Tacitus and tapped a gloved hand to his own helmet. Even Tacitus would have a difficult time using the force to tell who Anton was, as such. “You must be the bounty hunter the Overseer asked for. Here about the escaped slaves? I hope you do better than the last one.” It was both reality, and the code phrase. Anton had killed the last ones....brutally. No, it made the perfect cover to get onto the planet. He gestures to a waiting speeder. “Hurry along, before the overseer throws a fit.” Under the helmet, the Sephi smirked. Oh how he enjoyed bossing Tacitus around. True, it was an act, and the man had his loyalty, but, it was a fun game none the less. These idiots didn't understand the greatness that had come to their planet....and wouldn't until it was too late.

Only once inside the speeder, the windows tinting, and a switch flipped, to turn on the bug jammers, did Anton speak even a bit more openly. “Welcome to the planet. The goal for now, is to get you caught up to speed. The reports are mostly correct, but, the situation is a bit different than can be conveyed. Most of them are....content. Unlike most slaves, they have houses, good food, clean clothing, their daughters aren't made into prostitutes and the like. The children actually have a chance of becoming citizens, by joining the Enforcers. It's a newer rule...I think they took a page from your own book.” Only in the speeder did Anton release his grip on the force slightly, so that his Emperor could now use his powers to confirm Anton was indeed himself, and even that would be short lived.

[member="Darth Tacitus"]

 

[Lirka Ka]

Unassuming, a single craft slowly circled around the orbit of: to many it seemed little more than some mere cargo freighter, filled with valuable materials for the governor below, it couldn’t have been further from the truth.

[SIZE=11pt]Inside, Lirka paced patiently as droids lined their way into Droch Pods, those same bladed vessels that had ferried her forces down in that bloody massacre on Copero: though she paid those vivid and painful memories no mind. With a ding of affirmation the Sephi made her way through another bulkhead; the massive woman making her way to some unknown quarry inside the unassuming assault craft.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]A new toy, they said. Some affirmation to make the Confederacy’s bank just a little more secure when dealing with their “beloved” berserker. Whatever that meant.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Her boots stomped against the metal catwalk, a vague and quiet hummed out of her cybernetic arm. Though finally her eyes fell upon the new toy: her cybernetic one clicking as it dilated to study it at a deeper level. The new suit: an absolutely massive Powersuit, which stood a solid head taller than the already rather massive Lirka.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]A walking tank, absolutely perfect.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“This’ll do.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]And in true Lirka fashion, the words were quick and cold: hiding her childish excitement at the new weapon of war.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]With whirls and clicks Lirka boarded her new walking tank. The thing was impressive, servos and gyros to have her strength increased tenfold, multiple hardpoints to might ordinance she’d never use normally, and, of course, the gauntlets were just perfect for holding her beloved Klaive. With a slow nod the armored monster stomped her foot: sending a thunderous shake throughout the “hangar” of the craft. Her now distorted voice shouting out her command:[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“Prepare to drop!”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]This was going to be fun.[/SIZE]

 

[Khia Varad]

Location: Tower 17, Nexus Fuller Inc
Objective: Rooftops with a view to kill.
In Tandem with: [member="Luna Terrik"] | [member="OOM-330"]
Sniper High-Fives for: [member="Alden Akaran"] | [member="Gerwald Lechner"] | [member="Alwine Lechner"]

While the ground melee around the diner sorted itself out. The crusaders were keen to push on. Jumping from roof to roof, and covering each other, like the elite unit they were. Half went at a time, with the other half covering, and so on. Making progress across the landscape like tiny red dots, cutting through the city. Occasionally a sniper shot would ring out from Seka, or Khia would take someone out before he or she knew what hit them.

There.

Coming to a landing on a particularly tall looking building, Khia skidded to a stop, Seka ribbing her for not landing flush. As if she never made a mistake. Khia wasn’t baited easy. The Varad woman shrugged not caring. The two snipers set up in the middle of the chaos, finding a good position and vantage point. Borrowing a rifle from the nearest crusader, Khia thanked him with a half-grunt, and the other four mostly left them to it, spotting targets where they could.

[member="Alden Akaran"]

From VERY far away. Alden might find anyone sneaking up on him, just not there anymore, corpses propelled six feet away. A bolt from god, not quite, but Khia would probably take the praise. Their direction coming from a tall central tower.

[member="Gerwald Lechner"] | [member="Alwine Lechner"]

Also getting some sniper-rifle protection as they advanced, were Gerwald and Alwine, any nuisances in their approach or surprises were greatly reduced around the grounds, as Seka, Khia’s battlesister took great pleasure in removing them from view. Far far away as they were. Soon the pair might disappear from the scope's view, for now, it was a polite nod from afar.

“That’s Seven!” Seka said triumphantly.

“Eight.” Khia chided her softly, another bolt flew out of her own rifle and struck home.



Gear:

Spoiler

Armor: Cabur Beskargam, Weapons: 1x MRS-1 (Hands) 1x Icebreaker (Back) 2x Jackknifes (Hip), Melee: 1 x Vibrolasso, 1 x Force Pike, Grenade Belt: x5 Mixed Nade, Gear: Targeting Visor, Lifeform Detector, x1 General Personal Shield (Blaster/Temperature)

NPCs:

Spoiler

6 Supercommandos From Clan Varad

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

Wearing: xxx
w. [member="Alwine Lechner"] | [member="Khia Varad"]
Post: 2

"I like the way you think..." Gerwald said to his sister and charged forward.

It was not a decision at all as to what they were going to do, or which option Gerwald had chosen. He simply grinned as he allowed the black blade of his lightsaber snap to life and cut through two of the guards that had already begun to charge them.

One guard was taken out by a sniper. Gerwald craned his head to see where the shot came from and waved.

"We have sniper cover, Alwine, take us to the top."

Looks like they were going with the river of blood option. Why not. They were there to kill after all, plain and simple.

 

[Luna Terrik]

Post #1
Location: Staging Area outside the city
Objective: Cripple the defenses by destroying the armory
Allies: [member="Khia Varad"]

The ground, made up of dirty and small patches of grass, seemingly dropped beneath her as the shuttle rose into the sky. The sight of this couldn’t help but make Luna smile slightly at the sight, taking an extra moment to watch as the shuttle rose before pulling her feet up, slinging her A280 off of her shoulder as she nodded to the Dauntless Legion Sergeant in the shuttle with her to close the blast doors on the sides.

Through the slits of the blast door, Luna could partially see the Gorgon assault speeders start up their engines and start heading toward the capital. The attack was beginning to kick off, and it wouldn’t be long til flak started to be fired at the low altitude craft, trying to bring them down before they could release their deadly, determined payloads onto the armory.

Luna then slowly moved to the middle of the craft, carful of her footing, and took a hold of one of the handholds hanging from the celling. Just as her gloved fingers wrapped around the handhold, the whole ship seemingly lurched forward, throwing the men and women in armor on the inside in the same direction.

It seems as though the government wasn’t too happy about the approaching invading party, as the flak being shot at the shuttles so evidenced.

She hoped the assault tanks would be able to take out a few of the anti-AA guns, and that the shuttles would be able to ward off the attacks for just a few minutes more. Everyone knew the dangers of being a Dauntless and the life expectancy of being a part of the group, but that didn’t mean that the commander sat and hoped they would be put into a position to die without being able to at least defend themselves.

That wouldn’t be sporting at all now, would it?

“2 Minutes to target commander! Red light!” Words echoed from the pilots cockpit as the inside of the shuttle’s white lights shut off momentarily, only to be replaced by a dull red light. “Hook up!”

Unclipping her safety hook from the inside of her armored belt, Luna lifted the clip and slid it onto the guide rope, taking her appropriate position in the front of the line, ready for the shuttle to arrive at the target, so they could rappel down into the courtyard of the armory. An explosion could be heard from outside of the shuttle, Luna finding herself praying it was an enemy gun, instead of one of the remaining shuttles full of her comrades. By the time they all hit the ground, there would be little time to link up, but she knew of operatives already on site that might be available to link up if needed.

Those loud thoughts were quickly silenced when that red light suddenly shut off, the blast doors slid open quickly, the green light bathed the cabin, and the shuttle pulled to a stop.

“Go Go Go! Jump now!”

 

[Alwine Daye]

Location: Manor
Wearing: Obsidian type Strike Armor | "Executor" Boots Exclusive
Wielding: Obsidian Knight Sword
Tags: [member="Gerwald Lechner"] [member="Khia Varad"]



As the first shot was heard, Alwine crouched down towards the ground, looking around with narrowing eyes. Her Lupine senses gave her better hearing and a greater sense of smell, but it did nothing for her eyesight; from where she and Gerwald were standing, she could not see who the shooters were, nor could she discern who it was the bullets were aimed for.

Gerwald charged forward and she growled, setting to chase after him, looking around carefully as well as allowing her Force Sense to spread, trying to locate anything or anyone that could be a potential danger to them before they made it into the mansion. One of the guard fell down and Alwine nodded, her muscles visibly relaxing. Those shots were not aimed for her or her brother; they could move as planned.

As Gerwald took her suggestion to start at the top, the two of them paused close to the manor house itself. Alwine looked around, trying to see if there was a tree close by, but the nearest one meant they had to get further away than she wanted to. So grass it was.

"Sit," she ordered her brother and sat by him. It would be easier to hold balance that way with what she had planned.

Putting her sword back in its scabbard on her back, Alwine closed her eyes and put both hands against the soft grass. She could feel the life within it, the gentle hum that connected all that was connected through the Force. It was almost like a soft tune when she concentrated enough, a place of perfect calmness where everything existed with everything else in perfect harmony.

The Lupine kept her eyes closed as she resumed to focus on that, moving the life around. A small circle around her and Gerwald began to grow, the blades of the grass beneath them knotting together with each other, forming a small dais that held them up before they began to push upwards. It was a lovely sight, if one was to look at it from a distance; like two creatures out of a fairy tale, nature bowed down its head to carry them upwards into the sky. Or into the fourth and top floor, anyway.

For dozens of feet around them, on the ground, the grass that had been there had turned brown and black; dead and void of any nutrition. Such was the price of Alwine's strongest power; it could not create nutrition to build life and shape it; that had to be taken from somewhere else. It amused her that the application of it was considered a Lightside power.

When her eyes opened, Alwine seemed more like herself again compared to earlier; more focused, more ready to sever heads from bodies.

Rising to her feet, the petite blonde pulled her sword out of its scabbard again, and kicked the window, shattering the glass. A moment later, she was inside.

"Let the slaughter begin," she said to her brother with a smile.

 

[OOM-330]

Location: Bresnia, Verrington City, Mom's Diner
Objective: Secure the Diner, Await Command
Allies: Confederacy of Independent Systems, Bresnian Rebels
Unit: 11/14 B-Series B1 Battle Droids + OOM-330 (OOM Series Command Battle Droid)

Having received no response to his communications call out to Dauntless OOM-330 looked to his comrades and shrugged "Well uhh, I don't think they care." he said with a clear tone of confusion in his voice. One of the B1 droids from the back trotted over towards 330 "Commander, there is a lot of people flying around outside." OOM-330 looked towards the droid "Are they ours?" the B1 shrugged "They didn't shoot me so I think so." The command droid put his communicator away and then walked to the front of the diner to lean outside a bit as his squad continued to fire at the speeder bike which was now more like twisted scrap. It had been shot up so much that the repulsorlift had given out and it laid on the pavement where the one wounded enforcer still hunkered down for cover. OOM-330 caught a glimpse of someone flying over head then looked towards the suppress position "Hold fire!" he held up his left hand "Move forward and flank that position." he motioned at the two droids closest to him "Roger, Roger." "Roger, Roger." they responded one after the other as the pair moved outside and began to make flanking arcs to the left and right of the enforcer's position. There was a flash of green, a blaster bolt, from behind the speeder that narrowly missed one of the B1s. Then both battle droids opened fire for a brief couple of seconds then returned to OOM-330 "Target eliminated." "Should have surrendered when he had the chance." reported the two droids sent to kill the enforcer. "Do we take prisoners?" asked a droid further away from the group "Yeah what's the policy on that?" queried a droid popping up from behind a table "Shut up!" the command droid exclaimed in frustration "Roger, Roger." the droids replied in unison.

OOM-330 straightened up then and waved his free hand around the diner "Secure the exterior perimeter!" all the droids including OOM-330 filed out of the front door and took up positions around the sidewalks and corners around the diner. It was then that OOM-330 could hear sirens in the distance "Looks like we've got company." observed as he pointed towards a trio of speeder cars make their way to the scene of the shoot out "Open fire! Speeders on this side!" OOM-330 ordered. As the speeders were peppered by inaccurate blaster bolt fire one had been critically hit in the stabilizers causing it to hurtle out of the air and crash into the side of a building. The remaining two speeders landed and four enforcers hopped out, then began to shoot towards the droids. The enforcers were far more accurate than the B1s and quickly killed 3 of the stationary droids "Blast 'em!"