Mission Aggressive Negotiations | Neshtab Crisis Part 1 | EMPIRE/GA/MAW

[Ironhide]

THE NESHTAB CRISIS - PART ONE
AGGRESSIVE NEGOTIATIONS



THE NESHTAB SYSTEM, long a backwater planet, has become a neutral zone between the expanding superpowers of the GALACTIC ALLIANCE and EMPIRE, becoming a site of material and informational trade. The snow-covered titular planet has recently come out from recent troubles of its own: THE NESHTAB COLLECTIVE, formed of disparate cultures and communities on the planet, have ejected the warmongers amongst their number, and are now being courted by both superpowers in their escalating cold war.

Between the subterranean clan-cities of the Nests of Neshtab, the mountain-dwelling rocketeers of the Doreau, the droid democracy of the Iron Network, the Force-mystics of the Stormsingers and the Pariah Legion formed of Graug and deserting ex-Sith-Imperials; the diplomats of both states are each working to make their case to the leaders on an individual basis, who in turn will decide for the Collective if, and who, they will join the superpowers.

Outside the halls of power, an uneasy tension fills the snow drifts and caves of the world. A pretence of peace even as the daggers come out in the darkness, for there are rumours that lead to the whereabouts of a missing Imperial figure. The search for LUCIEN DOOKU has led here, as well as whispers of a MAWITE infestation. SIA and ISB have separately dispatched agents to track down the missing heir apparent amidst the droid cities underground, while warriors of the NEW JEDI ORDER and IMPERIAL KNIGHTS have made contact with some of the local Stormsingers to root out the infiltration.

With so many pieces crammed into this tiny island of temporary neutrality, something is bound to blow up…



​

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OBJECTIVE 1: FRACTURES IN THE ICE
"Diplomacy is as potent a weapon as Star Destroyers - the difference is most people are not as threatened when the former is used."​

The Neshtab Collective’s ruling Council are soon to cast their vote on which superpower to join. Overtly, the Galactic Alliance has attempted to woo them with diplomatic meetings with the Collective’s governing Council and shipments of technological and food aid, and the Council is preparing to vote on accepting the Alliance’s terms. While most of the Collective’s official leaders are open to joining them, opportunistic elements in the government are planning to entertain an offer from the other superpower: Imperial diplomats are soon to meet with these seconds-in-command and are preparing to offer a military intervention on Neshtab as well as the removal of the Pariah Legion, which some on Neshtab see as an unwelcome intrusion.

Spoiler: Character Recommendations

Diplomats, Governmental Figures, COMPNOR

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OBJECTIVE 2: CHROME AND IRON
"Whispers in the dark..."
​

Both the Alliance and Empire are hot on the trail of the scraps of information floating around about the “missing Imperial VIP’s” whereabouts, with both SIA and ISB having honed in on a promising lead: a data broker with access to information has been spotted travelling to the neutral planet of Neshtab. Amidst the backdrop of GA diplomatic visits and possible Imperial military intervention, both agencies have dispatched agents to track down the broker in the heart of the planet’s underground cities to retrieve the information. For the Empire, their hope is to find any evidence that Lucien is alive, and to track down his location. For the Alliance, while they may not know the identity of the missing VIP, there would be a vested interest in finding the data broker first and ascertaining his value to the Empire.

Spoiler: Character Recommendations

SIA, ISB

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OBJECTIVE 3: HOWLING WIND
"Some things are more important than politics."
​

The Circle of the Howling Wind, one of the Stormsinger communities, has been rumoured to be dabbling in certain forbidden arts at the instruction of off-worlders bearing the mark of the Maw. While the elders of the Stormsingers debate the proper course of action, some of the Circles have already allied to destroy them under the banner of the Lunar Circle. The New Jedi Order and Imperial Knights have caught wind of this development, and suspecting Mawite involvement, their members have made contact with the Lunar Circle and are preparing a pre-emptive strike on the Howling Wind’s encampments.

Spoiler: Character Recommendations

New Jedi Order, Imperial Knights, New Sith Order

 

[Ironhide]

OBJECTIVE 1: FRACTURES IN THE ICE

Location: The Conservatory, Neshtab
Objective: Meet with Galactic Alliance representatives
TAGS: GALACTIC ALLIANCE DIPLOMATS ON OBJECTIVE 1
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​

The halls of the Conservatory, once a stark and pristine white, had browned with age. Moisture and dust had snuck into the facility over the centuries, lending a patina of decay to the still-running and still-efficient farming complex. It had been cleaned up fairly recently, but Warlord Ironhide wondered if it was a futile effort.

The Graug Warlord examined the plasteel-like arches that framed the halls of his Legion’s new home. Banners of the Legion hung along some of the walkways, but otherwise the Conservatory was unchanged. He wondered why the walls drew his attention this day, when he had such an important task to deal with. The Graug was not one for philosophical introspection, but the image of the Conservatory running at acceptable efficiency, uncaring of its appearance or the flags that adorned it spoke to him. Perhaps it was like the Legion. Or it was symbolic of-

“Warlord, the envoys of the Alliance are ready.”

Lord Protector Ironhide turned to the messenger, his contemplations paused, nodding. He adjusted his helmet, that metal shell that protected his cranium, and strode onwards. His retinue, a strange blend of Sith-Imperial Stormtrooper armour and Graug metalworking, followed without missing a beat.

The Galactic Alliance had finally extended an offer of membership after such a long period of wait. Ironhide found himself wondering why they had waited so long: for the past few years, Neshtab was in turmoil, yes, but the strong lords of the Galaxy never used that as reason to back away. In fact, they relished it, seeing it as a chance to extend their aegis over divided worlds.

The offer had come at an inopportune time too, by a stroke of misfortune. The White-and-Grey Imperial successors to the S’ith state had extended a similar message, after a fashion. They openly decreed the need to ‘garrison’ Neshtab due to ‘security concerns’. Whether that meant the reunification of a planet filled with hardy sentients, or the presence of the Iron Network’s information dealing, or even just worry that the humans of White-and-Blue would move in first, was of little concern. Neshtab was now at the centre of both states’ attentions.

As Ironhide and his escort approached the meeting room which had been set aside for their Alliance dignitaries, the hallway merged into a central atrium. The curved, modernist, high-technological architecture of the place was still alien to Ironhide, used to rock walls and durasteel tubes. The Warlord was not fazed by much, but he fought down the unease in his chest when he saw who was waiting for him.

“Greetings, Lord Protector. I understand I am to accompany you to the meeting with the dignitaries?”

“Yes, Oracle, I did send word to your agents.” The Oracle of the droid cyberdemocracy: AXION . Even now he was uneasy with the presence of the Oracle. It chose to send fragments of its mind into simple administrative droids when directly interacting with the outside world, and perhaps he could take some solace in knowing that the AI was otherwise rather limited, if competent, in its scope and programming. As administrator of the Iron Network’s servers, it maintained the servers required to host and connect the -tens of thousands? Hundreds of thousands? (Millions?)- of Free Droids living in Neshtab. Rumour had it that it collected and curated the most valuable information that passed through the information brokerage businesses of the Network. If it did, Ironhide was simply glad AXION had explicitly chosen to back his unification war years ago. Surely a lightning-mind of that sophistication could not bet on the wrong warrior.

“Then we shall proceed. This unit will be recording the conversations for your future perusal and analysis.”

“Thank you, honoured Oracle. I would hear of your honest opinions too, throughout this process.” Ironhide spoke levelly and in an even pace- his enemies would think him slow, like the brutish Graug that people spread tales of (and perhaps they were right to an extent), but he simply wanted to pronounce Basic properly.

AXION nodded and followed along. It had no need of escorts: its true mind was housed elsewhere.

As they continued down the halls of the Conservatory, Ironhide noted the increased foot traffic. While most of the Conservatory was restricted from outside access, this section of the Conservatory functioned as a sort of public space for the Pariahs and even for travellers and off-worlders, though the latter far preferred the amenities of the Old Link. Civilian Pariahs, humans and Graug alike, were excited and apprehensive at the recent increased presence of off-worlders. Some were already trying to hawk their wares to the large diplomatic staff of the Alliance that had settled in for the week and dispersed to tour the place. As Ironhide strode past, they saluted their Warlord. He returned the gesture, his eyes wandering over to the walls again, the stark white against the industrial, grimy armour of his people. They looked at home (the gods and demons knew how much they had struggled for one), yet so out of place.

A chill went down his spine then, even as the Warlord calmly strode through the doorway towards the meeting room. A large, beautiful room, its long far wall made of heavy duty glasteel that gave a panoramic view of the Conservatory and the Old Link in the distance.

Ironhide gave nods to the Alliance diplomats, already seated and oriented with the place in the past week. Even as he confidently spoke: “Honoured guests, I am pleased to be meeting you here again. These dialogues have been meaningful. Come, let us continue yesterday’s discussion: I would like to know what the Alliance sees in the future of Neshtab.” and took his seat, a thought wormed through his mind:

The future of Neshtab does not necessarily need the Pariahs.

​

 

[Crail Halcyon]

OBJECTIVE 1: FRACTURES IN THE ICE

Location: Camp Kalsba, Neshtab
Objective: Meet with Imperial representatives
TAGS: IMPERIAL DIPLOMATS ON OBJECTIVE 1
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“Commander! Our honoured guests are approaching.”

Commander Crail Halcyon, leader of the Kalsba Command of the Doreau, toggled his comms and nodded silently, grim-faced. He looked through the binocs again. No thermal traces. Then again, the outsiders used different tech. Millenia of parallel technological evolution meant that the Galaxy at large did not, in fact, use chemical fuel cells nor pulse-wave weaponry. That meant that the specialised optics here that detected chemical expellant or synced atomic vibrations was basically useless.

Perhaps the Sixers had a point…

Halcyon looked down. His boots gripped firmly on the cliff edge, his men perched like cryo-vultures around him. He adjusted his helmet again, recycling the air and defogging the interior. Uncomfortable, but Commander legacy helmets were ancient beyond counting.

“Give me the signal.”

“Transmitted.”

The liquid crystal screen lit up on the sleeve of his ROCKET jumper armour.

“Locked.”

The Doreau pushed off, triggering their rocket packs like it was second nature. Halcyon savoured the feeling of eternity as gravity pulled on him, falling… then the roar of the jets of his pack as propellant burned, push hard against the tug of Neshtab herself.

The Doreau soared through the clouded sky, trailing the Imperial dignitaries from afar, escorted by Neshtabine Nest guards and foot sloggers under Halcyon’s command. They were heading into the base of the peak from their drop-off location, thence to take an elevator up to Camp Kalsba. The Chief of the Staff might have made it clear that the Doreau would be leaning towards the Alliance, but he held little sway ever since the civil war. Yes, they had agreed to ally with the off-worlders, the brutish and menacing Pariah Horde, but the disavowal of the Commands that sided with the Seneschal after the Hallowed defeat even though they had his tacit approval… small wonder the Commands were drifting apart, though none would admit it. The Doreau were too proud to display disunity or dissent among the ranks. Such was the way of the Older Batches, and so it was now.

Halcyon hooked his comms to the signals of the escorts, the ones shackled by gravity. He heard snippets here and there. Moffs. Ancient title, so old that the Manuals contained the exact words. Governors and Warlords of the ancient Republic, and the current crop seemed… not too far off. With them were agents of their ideological and political policing force. From up here, and closer than earlier, the Commander could see their white contrasted with the grey of the Moffs, likely some sort of political statement in itself.

The group on the ground reached the base of the peak, past the walls of the Camp that entwined with the mountain and into the climate-controlled interior. Over the comms, it appeared the High Steward Felina Kerenko of the Nests was already there to greet them. A relative unknown a decade ago, the young Nester had become something close to the third most powerful among the Nests after the civil war and subsequent purge of the previous Seneschal’s supporters. She held the loyal support of some of the larger Nests, especially the deeper ones, and had pushed for further isolation of Neshtab. Conveniently, this mixed with suspicion of the recently immigrated Pariah Legion and their role as peacekeepers of the new Collective.

It was risky of her to show up in-person, and not just for the political fallout of being seen to go against the current Nest Seneschal wishes to lean to the Alliance. Up here in the mountains, her body, adapted for deep earth traversal over the centuries, could likely suffer from some serious decompression effects, though it appeared she had taken precautions and acclimatisation routines, as the more worldly Nesters did. She wear her surface suit, but helmetless she appeared to have no trouble breathing or moving.

From here in the sky, Halcyon watched the group enter the elevator and ascend. Most of the elevator platform was open to the elements, the elevator shaft peeking out of the stone here and there. Halcyon broadcast a command code to slow the elevator once it approached his altitude. He and his guards changed vector, vertically moving towards the elevator. It ascended until slowing to a stop at his altitude.

“-and to that end, we are interested to hear what the Empire has to say regarding the Graug and refugee Sith-Imperials.” Kerenko glanced up just as Halcyon and his guard reached close to the railing, of the elevator platform grabbing hold of the top bar and swinging into the passageway and landing softly on the ground in unison. Their entrance had the intended effect: some of the Imperials were astonished at the sudden entrance of soldiers wearing armour that was a dead ringer for the romanticised, archeological ROCKET systems of the ancient past. Others were more annoyed at the grandstanding.

“My apologies for the slight delay. My men and I were patrolling the peaks. Wouldn’t want our meeting interrupted, yes?” Halcyon removed his helmet and gave a professional smile as he entered the climate-controlled central chamber of the elevator platform. His men remained outside, standing guard. The elevator started up again.

Kerenko and the Imperials continued talking, and Halcyon made small talk with some of the off-worlders too. They had been having these clandestine meetings with the Imperials for a while now, and today was a major milestone in the discussion: the question of the Pariahs, apparently all fugitives of the Empire. Wonderful.

The elevator finally stopped, for real this time, and the group exited to the upper floor of the Camp. A sprawling facility built into the peak, the group were ushered into a meeting room, its glassteel walls facing the open snow drifts and the tundra below.

“Now that we’re all here, let’s get to it: as the High Steward has mentioned, we would like to know what the Empire’s plans to do with the Pariahs should we join the Empire, and on a larger scale, the same question with Neshtab and our communities.”

 

[// Binary Haze]

OBJECTIVE 2: CHROME AND IRON/

Location: Cave City Stenum-3, joint Nest-Iron Network administration, Neshtab

Objective: Evade pursuers, escape with vital data

TAGS: SPIES ON OBJECTIVE 2​

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In the iron and rock hallways of a cavern city, an information broker was struggling in a maintenance tunnel.

Binary Haze cursed, their leg’s augmented shell sparking and damaged. Useless anyway. Ripping it off, they tossed it back the way they came from and tried to remember.

Right, they needed to burn the data. Burn out of the net, burn it onto its portable hard drive. Now.

Binary Haze got up and limped to the exit of the tunnel, peeking out and looking for the nearest Network server node, the wireless towers scattered around the cave city. There, past the droid part shops, virch arcades, the many temporary association meeting rooms for rent, and a crowd of organic tourists.

Binary Haze left the maintenance tunnel and entered the connected, covered boardwalk, merging into the foot traffic of organics and droids alike. They needed to get close to the node, link up with the data file, then get out. To do that, it needed to get close to the server node and wirelessly access it without being too obvious. Binary Haze knew there were pursuers, ones with itchy trigger fingers, willing to kill for this data, even here, else-

[CONNECTED]

Binary Haze switch their optical view, falling into cyberspace. In a nanosecond, they reentered the hyperlink and found itself connected back to the fried server where their objective had been, before the chase and the- well, the file was still there, suspended. They reached out through the haze of data. Bits and quants floating in the cyber-ether of the Network. Couldn’t get a hold on it. Direct address access perhaps?

The telltale pings of killer bots. The server was still hot. No choice. They reached out, connecting, setting off a flare in the net for anyone addressed even close to the fried server. There! The data flowed into the drive, and Binary Haze scrambled the copy in the fried server. The kill bots were closing, and Binary Haze pulled the plug, hard.

“UARGH”

The hacker fell back, slamming against a very real, very physical rock wall.

“Are you in need of assistance?” They heard the sound of a droid coming up to them. The sound was weird, too full, too directional.

Right. They were out of the net. Meatspace, Metalspace, whatever. Disgusting.

Binary Haze muttered apologies and stumbled on, trying to act nonchalant. Back here in the real world. The file was secure, no hard-trace thanks to the Network’s standard scrambling.

Now to figure a quick way to reach the dead-drop. Binary Haze cursed, remembering again why they were in such a hurry. The buyer was a no-show, and neither was her sponsor, and neither was his contact. Something was wrong.

They refocussed ahead. Physical security droids marched past, their optics more focussed on the other sentients in the walkways above and below than Binary Haze.

The cavern was large, its platforms and walkways confounding. Sternum-3 was once a Nest populated by the organics of some clan or other, but some sort of deal was cut to co-own the place between them and some mutual trust fund run by the Network. Whatever, who cares, all that mattered was that getting to the dead-drop and securing a fast exit was exponentially harder than normal.

They continued to chart a course. Down, swap stairs, cut away from the open side, hop over to the next spiral…

The broker checked the data chip again. Who knows if it was junk data or not, but they still slotted it into its cavital processor in its arm. It was the only thing stopping anyone hot on their trail from killing them outright. And as they stumbled into another sheltered broadwalk in the cave city, their pursuers, though oblivious to Binary Haze’s exact location, inched closer…

​

 

[Suna-Hulai]

OBJECTIVE 3: HOWLING WIND

Location: Outskirts of the Meyeson Forest, Kosa Belt Tundra, Neshtab
Objective: Meet with NJO and IK warriors, prepare assault on Mawite cult
TAGS: NJO/IK ON OBJECTIVE 3
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The wind held a bitter taste today.

It was not the exhaust of the many ships criss-crossing the skies over the Old Link, no. It was a spiritual pollution. Something that had taken root much too quickly, and yet, too slowly. Chorist Suna-Hulai knew it as sure as her bones.

“The Jedaii are here, mistress.”

“Mmh.”

Suna opened her eyes, regrounding herself into the flesh. She caught sight of her assistant leaving the tent. She wanted to call her back, but… what was she to say? That she was worried? Had doubts?

The gift and curse of youth, she remembered. Youngest of the Chorists, and not something the Guidance Circle wholly meant as a compliment. The old women debated and waited for the right course of action, as if the Howling Wind had not infringed on the Tenets long ago, multiple times! And yet, the elders knew best. They had seen the power of the continual sanding of the winds of time that ground all outliers back into the fold.

But now was different. The Galaxy at large had finally deigned to poke their noses into the affairs of Neshtab, and no amount of hoping for The Wanderer’s defence cannons or the Collective’s armies or the Network’s dealings or the Nests’ tenacity or any of that that would do any good against the might of these superpowers. Especially when both had powerful Orders of Jedaii among them. If they did not fix this themselves…

Suna shook off the pins and needles in her legs as she exited. Some of the Jedaii of Tython and the Jedaii of Bastion had already arrived at the campsite, huddled into their two groups while the rest of her entourage went about the camp preparing for the hunt, checking the animals, foraging. The camp was large, too large. Dozens of Stormsingers from many Circles had joined Suna on her venture, and the group had grown substantially in the past months. Stormsingers bearing the colours of a dozen Circles were chatting quietly or working to prepare for the final trek and the attack.

Her assistants followed her as she marched through the camp and approached the Jedaii. Much of her trepidation had gone, for she had spoken to some already, but no matter how long they talked and talked, now was the time for action, and something disturbed her winds.

“Hail to thee, warriors of light. We are preparing to set off for the camp of the Howling Wind soon, and I hope we are agreed to the necessity of this course of action?” Mere formality. The Jedaii were far more eager to meet the Howling Wind and their new friends than even Suna was.

 

[Maharak Akul]

OBJECTIVE 3: THE HOWLING WIND

Location: Meyeson Forest, Kosa Belt Tundra, Neshtab
Objective: SLAY THE JEDI
TAGS: MAW/NEW SITH ORDER ON OBJECTIVE 3
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The Eye waited.

The Eye listed.

The Eye saw.

A form rose from the floor of the cave, lit only by firelight. It called out to its patrons, to its allies.​

To the Sith.

“It is as I have predicted. Your enemies have made common cause with mine. The Jedi are being to their doom without their knowledge. If thy wish to strike, now is the time.”

 

[Marcus Voss]

Location: Cave City Stenum-3, joint Nest-Iron Network administration, Neshtab
Tags: // Binary Haze | Open

Marcus held his comm tightly in his hand as he moved through the corridors of the underground city. His other hand drifting towards his holster. The rest of his equipment dangled from his waist, hidden by his black cloak. He was uncomfortable without his mask and his usual accessories, feeling to exposed, though the mission came before comfort.

Thoughts swirled through the hunters head as he tried to determine the brokers location. His mission today took importance over all matters, clues as to Lucien Dooku's location was said to have been in the hands of an information broker. He knew he had to reach the broker before anyone else, especially other Agencies. He leaned against a wall as security droids walked past.

He slowly navigated his way through the complex tunnels of the city. If he were an information broker being hunted by intelligence agencies, it would be fairly obvious what he would do. Attempt to escape. Apparently there had been a sighting of the broker, or clues as to the brokers whereabouts, in his surroundings. That means the target was looking for the closest possible exit, he would have to check as he went on. He crossed into another long walkway as he continued his search and pursuit.​

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[FN-999]

Objective: I
Wearing: Armor
Interacting With: Crail Halcyon
Other Tags: Imperial Diplo

It was only natural that the colonel-turned-Baron was given a diplomatic mission in the Empire's most contested frontier.

Still, that didn't make FN-999 feel any better about it.
​

He had been Baron of the Borosk system for under a year, and already the responsibilities were threatening to overwhelm him. FN-999 was a military man at heart, raised from childhood to become the ultimate asset for the First Order, and after its collapse, the Empire. He was still green when it came to the political battlefield, where words and articles were far more powerful than any physical weapon. Still, he knew that he had to learn somehow, and Imperial leadership had likely thought the same. So here he was, a representative of the Empire on a frontier world whose allegiance was entirely up for grabs.

As far as he was aware, FN-999 and the other Imperial delegates would be interacting not only with their Alliance counterparts but also the representatives of the Neshtab Collective, a confederation representing the pro-conciliation elements of the planet's population. According to his briefing, most of the Collective was decisively pro-Alliance, and attempting to appeal directly to the Collective's most influential leaders would likely be futile. However, rumors were that there was dissent among the ranks of the Collective, with senior commanders in the Doreau rocketeers and Neshtab Nests willing to hear an Imperial audience.

So the Baron found himself in a shuttle full of diplomats, landing near the base of a frigid mountain range. Fortunately, he had come prepared, replacing his typical Storm Armor with its snowtrooper equivalent. Well-insulated within the suit, FN-999 joined the fellow delegates as they left the shuttle under escort. He recognized the ancient ROCKET gear of the escorts almost instantly, and almost chuckled at the surprise of his compatriots. In his experience as a soldier and commander, the Baron had come to understand that the ROCKET system was rugged and reliable despite its age, and in fact was a favorite of guerrilla forces in many parts of the galaxy due to its cheapness and availability.

In that moment, the Baron began to realize the value of sending a military man as a diplomat. Perhaps more than any of the high-born or high-raised Imperial leaders around him, FN-999 could sympathize with the martial roots of the Doreau.

The diplomats closer to the front of the group were soon greeted by one Felina Kerenko, a High Steward of the Nests. Satisfied to leave her to the career politicians surrounding her, he joined the delegation as they entered an elevator and rose up towards the very peak of the mountain facility.

After a few more minutes of animated chatter, the delegation arrived in a vast room whose windows gave a brilliant view of the snowy realm below. FN-999 began to heat up within the well-insulated facility, and he decided to risk taking off his helmet, exposing his pale, bald face for all to see. It did not take long after that for another Neshtab representative, one of the Doreau, to take the lead in the ongoing discussion. Briefly thinking back to his briefing, FN-999 remembered that the man was Crail Halcyon, the commander of the Doreau's Kalsba Command.

“Now that we’re all here, let’s get to it: as the High Steward has mentioned, we would like to know what the Empire’s plans to do with the Pariahs should we join the Empire, and on a larger scale, the same question with Neshtab and our communities.”

The Baron was the first to speak up.

"A large portion of the Pariah Legion consists of ex-Sith Imperials who have chosen to flee to this world. The Imperial Army will not tolerate such a dangerous cabal so close to the Imperial frontier. If Neshtab joins the Imperial fold, the Pariahs will need to be tracked down and detained so that we can extract intel and determine how to best deliver justice for our comrades who fell in the Third Imperial Civil War. Of course, you will be assisted in this task by the Empire's elite stormtroopers. If the Pariahs resist, then the Empire will have no choice but to treat them as fugitives and hunt them down."

"I lack the experience to speak for the civilian aspect of Neshtab's future in the Imperial fold, so I will turn this moment over to my political seniors."

 

[Dominique Vexx]

Objective 1: Diplomatic Relations
The Conservatory, Neshtab
Ironhide | Alliance Delegation

Today, the lilac-haired, six foot one Senator from Denon wore a snow-white outfit; one with squared shoulders to the buttoned-up jacket and sharply pressed slacks that extended down to the equally spotless, high-heeled shoes. It wasn't that she wanted to blend in, her fashion stood out enough, but these were delicate negotiations and Vexx wouldn't be blamed for making a spectacle of them with overly flashy attire.

Dominique strode down the corridors of the humble facility -- The Conservatory -- in which the meeting would take place. Golden rings peeked out just above the topics of her colored glasses at the surroundings without seeming to spare notice. The delegation had been led to a meeting room where they were politely told to await the arrival of the Lord Protector.

Curious title, that. Protector. Not Commander in Chief, Warlord, President, Chancellor... Vexx continued to contemplate the circumstances as they waited. Her gaze was out through the glasteel wall that afford a scenic view of the surround. A delightful backdrop for their meeting. An equally useful vantage point if the compound was assaulted. Vexx wondered if the glasteel were reinforced for that purpose.

At the sound of the Lord Protector's arrival, Dominique slowly turned and was in the process of resuming her seat as he entered.

Vexx clasped her hands together atop the table as Ironhide bid them a brief welcome and invited a continuation of their talks. "What every interstellar government sees in welcoming another world into its fold -- opportunity. To shore up borders. Expand influence. Establish trade. Learn about your culture? Our Chancellor has poured considerable resources into museums and other outreach programs; make of that what you will." The man had a 'slow' demeanor, but Vexx didn't take it to mean he was stunted mentally. With delegations like this, it seemed they preferred a bit of openness and honesty as opposed to endless promises that may or may not ever come to fruition.

She paused just for a moment with a small smile on her lips. "We could regale you with the countless ways the Alliance could benefit you -- medicine, industry, agriculture, city planning and construction. If you would permit me, however, Lord Protector, perhaps it is we that should ask what you see in the future of Neshtab. Do you want to grow into an industrial powerhouse? A technological wonder? A refuge for those seeking to commune with a greater power? Or merely a desire to rest assured that any invading force will think twice before believing your world ripe for plunder, and remain free to self-govern in accordance with your people's will? There are many opportunities we could explore, together, Lord Protector."

 

[Sabine Korvan]

---

COMPNOR​

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Objective: I - Fractures in the Ice
Location: Camp Kalsba, Neshtab | Imperial Delegation
Tags: FN-999 | DT-1159 | Crail Halcyon

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Of all the places for her to be sent to, why did it have to be this frozen wasteland? Sabine was not someone known to be ‘picky’, particularly when it came to assignments of such importance. But sometimes, she wondered if her father inserted himself in her career through moments like this to ‘teach her a lesson’. He had already done so in a manner of speaking by forcing her to take on a squad of his elite bodyguards - the so-called ‘Death Mask.’

Logically, she knew the main reason was due to her father’s fairly recent survival of an assassination attempt. It would seem that he had acquired a new appreciation for life in the aftermath of it, which by extension meant an appreciation for her life. Despite her mild annoyance, she knew he meant well. But that didn’t mean she had to particularly like such intrusions. Even still... the deployment of the stoic death troopers flanking her was probably prudent. This was supposedly a neutral world, and while many may assume that neutral meant ‘safe’, in actuality, neutral meant ‘opportunity’.

Her father was quickly becoming a key figure within Imperial politics, and it didn’t take a genius to suppose that whatever rivals the ‘slightly’ old goat may have acquired over the past few years would have a vested interest in undermining him via his daughter. She couldn’t say she wouldn’t have acted in a similarly cautious manner if she were in his position.

And after further thought, it was entirely possible that the “Death Mask’s” presence could be used as an advantage. She arched an eyebrow at the nearest trooper to her ( DT-1159 ) and said in a semi-disinterested tone: “Do you lot have vocal chords still? Or are you just glorified hunks of plasteel to accompany me?”

‘Perhaps they can make themselves useful and distract me during the shuttle ride at least.’ she mused to herself. Whatever the response that would come from her question, it wouldn’t matter to her much. The shuttle would touch down, and she would rise up behind the renowned Baron of Borosk, known as FN-999 by all save those in the highest echelons of the Empire. Despite her last name, she was not yet among those with said clearance, so his given name would be beyond her knowledge - at least for now. That did not mean she was not aware of his reputation, or how he came about it. She admittedly found it somewhat peculiar that he was present here, if for no other reason than that this meeting was somewhat clandestine. Even still, she would do her duty all the same - and refrain from interposing herself overmuch without his or any other senior member’s leave that was present. She would follow in step behind the Baron and his entourage, with the squad of death troopers accompanying her falling in step behind and around her as well as to meld into the greater entourage as a whole. It was at this point that she saw the wisdom in her father’s insistence at last.

Despite the troubles facing her internally, the Empire’s strength was in many cases, the projection of such strength. Nothing evoked the strength the Empire could muster like the sight of elite troopers, and the Death Mask were kitted to the ‘nines’ (pun intended) for that purpose.

Whatever the case, they would make their way to the meeting point within Camp Kalsba, and would be greeted by a man who, according to Imperial intelligence reports, was a commander by the name of Crail Halcyon.

Baron Nines was quick to respond to the Commander’s inquiry as to the Empire’s stance on the so-called ‘Pariah Legion’. As he spoke, Sabine mentally ran over the dossier she had reviewed about what was known of them. It was strange to think that a group of Graug Sith-spawn and ex-Sith Imperials had found a home here, on a world that literally sat in a bubble between the Galactic Alliance and Empire. But clearly, it was not impossible.

To his credit, Baron Nines was quick to outline the Empire’s stance from a military perspective, which was in line with the party’s overall mindset with regard to ex-Sith aligned elements. His final words caused her to perk up.

"I lack the experience to speak for the civilian aspect of Neshtab's future in the Imperial fold, so I will turn this moment over to my political seniors."

“I would not be so bold as to say I am the Baron’s ‘political senior’ as he puts it, but I can speak to that topic specifically.” Sabine’s voice broke through like a crystal-clear stream of water; carrying a slight cool and crispness to offset the introduction that preceded her. “From the Central Government’s perspective, COMPNOR would see no reason to hamper Neshtab’s ability to self-govern, provided the... new order that would follow integration in the greater Empire, were to ensure local laws comply with state-wide regulations. And we would naturally insist a planetary garrison be established for obvious reasons, what with the meddling and aggression of the Galactic Alliance.”

Her words were spoken with a soft of... reasonableness, as if nothing she had just said was overly burdensome or troubling. That was, of course, by design - but whether or not they would be interpreted as such was another story entirely.

 

[Hacks]

Cave City Stenum-3,
Neshtab

Hacks walked with thunderous steps. Plastic eyes searched busy streets, metal fingers clenched and relaxed. It was her first time off Coruscant in almost a year, her first taste of freedom since the Alliance stripped her of it. She knew she was not truly free, she could run for the closest port and buy herself off world, but she would spend the rest of her short life looking over one shoulder waiting for a SIA agent to put her down like the rabid dog she was. So she bowed her head and did as they wanted until the Hutts could secure her release.

Todays target was an info broker, Hacks was the natural choice for the task. She had spent her entire life in the criminal underworld, founding the underground network Darkwire and running with the Red Raven Syndicate and Hutt Space Consortium. She knew info brokers and their ilk better than any SIA agent. Except she did not know this particular broker.

When the dossier was handed down she neither recognised the name or face, guessing he was not one that floated around the Smuggler Moons cartels or Denons underground scene, that or he was so low on the food chain she would never have noticed him. Hacks was not entirely at a loss, her reputation had earned her a modicum of contacts across the galaxy. She had narrowed down the search to Stenum-3. She could work with that.

The crowds before her were forced aside like waves against cliffs, droids paid her no more attention than they did their own but aliens and humans alike gawked at the eight foot 'borg that towered over the rest, shouldering her way through narrow streets. She hung her head, a heavy studded jacket sat on slumped shoulders. The pair of glasses resting on her synthskin nose flashed with activity as streams of data washed across the lens.

Marcus Voss | // Binary Haze

 

[Caltin Vanagor]

The last thing that evil wants...​

Location: Neshtab

Spoiler: Personal effects

"Vanguard" (Secondary - Long Handle)

"CONSERVATOR" (Primary - Long Handle)
Robes, Battle Armor,Toraynor-Henkan(mind crystal added) Advanced Jedi Utility Belt
Starship: Spectre, HK-88 (NC-1000 X-wing (Jedi Variant) in the hangar, Dilorian, and Bike both in the cargo bay, the late Karki Eusith's Armor, Shield, Temple Guard Lightsaber mounted on the wall)

Foes: ANYONE WHO WANTS TO TAG ME
Allies: ANYONE WHO WANTS TO TAG ME

“True Courage is to stand against evil, even when we stand alone.” - Richard C. Edgley

​

Caltin did not want to keep using the Defender Corvette because it was not “his” ship. Sure, he had a hand in its design, and was a financial backer for the company that built it, but it was not “his”. This was a necessary flight though as they were going into a situation that he had not been involved in in a long time. There was a wind of uncertainty going on as he looked around, disappointed at what he had seen.

Be mindful of, but trust your instincts out here, Padawan.

Jand Talo , one of his two Padawans was with him, but it was uncertain what was going to happen out here, so he was free to choose his path on this. No doubt the Massive Jedi Master wanted the Nagai student by his side, but it was the call of the Force to decide on him. Meanwhile, someone seemed to be welcoming all of them here. It was going to be something to think about, especially since they were almost face to face with Imperials. Or could be at least.

No, it was not them that he cared about, they were serving their own ideals, i.e. “Doing their job” but there was more to his feeling towards them. They represented loss. This entire operation reminded him of loss. The last time he was doing anything that involved Imperials on some level, his friends in the 197th Special Forces Unit “Omega Squad” lost several key members of their team. They were there unofficially so those remains that were not brought back to Silver Space were considered “disavowed”. They were not of the Alliance, they were SJDF. That was irrelevant though as they were his friends and while loss happens, this was the second time that Azrael, Bartleby, Gabriel and Sauriel had to bury friends because of him, even indirectly.

No, that was no way to think. They did their job, something they believed in and deserved to be honored by him doing the same.

... is my undivided attention.
​

 

[Dionus Bharro]

Objective: III - Howling Wind
Location: Outskirts of the Meyeson Forest, Kosa Belt Tundra, Neshtab
Tags: Suna-Hulai | Maharak Akul | Caltin Vanagor

---

---

The bitter cold slammed against Dionus’ armored hulk, the frigid wind washed aross his exposed cheeks. He took in a deep breath, allowing the clean tundra air to fill his lungs even as he proceeded at the head of his band of Imperial Knights. A metallic cover sat over his mouth, shielding the transmitter built within from the howling gusts swirling about. <“Remember, we will not be the aggressors here. If the Jedi decide they wish to expunge us from this planet, they will have to make the first move. We do not bend to the whims of the weak.”>

Acknowledgements filled the earpiece within the ‘half helm’ he wore, and the contingent moved on with stoic resolve as they approached the meeting point at the outskirts of the Meyeson Forest. It would appear as though the Imperials would arrive first, with a woman wearing garb unfamiliar to the Knight Commander approaching him. His imposing hulk towered over her, but she addressed him with a certain self-assurance and confidence bespeaking her status as a leader.

“Hail to thee, warriors of light. We are preparing to set off for the camp of the Howling Wind soon, and I hope we are agreed to the necessity of this course of action?”

“We are not warriors of light, my Lady.” Dionus' voice belched forth, as if wrought from the very alloy that encased his body. “The Imperial Knights are enforcers of Order - nothing more, nothing less.” His eyes scanned those surrounding them - the fellow native peoples who accompanied the woman before him before he returned his attention to her. He carried a certain sense of purpose and command about him that would be all but impossible to ignore.

“It may seem like a small distinction to you, and I must admit I am not as familiar with your culture as i would wish. But I would say the main difference between us and the ‘Jedi’ who will be coming after us is; we don’t allow anything to stand in our way when doing what must be done, whether the source be of Light or Darkness.” He tilted his head to regard her for a moment before he continued: “But... to answer your question... the Empire recognizes the importance of the task before us. You will receive no trouble from us - of that I can assure you.”

 

[Valery Noble]

Neshtab

​

Outfit: Factory Link
Appearance: Link
Weapons: Double-Bladed Lightsaber
Tag:

No matter how hard she tried, some parts of her Jedi Shadow past couldn't fade.

The news of the Maw's involvement on neutral worlds was hardly a surprise, but the Mawite cult she had heard about was a very serious, and growing problem that needed to be addressed. But with two fronts and so much trouble in the Galaxy, it was not easy to get enough Jedi or manpower together to do what was necessary. For this reason, Valery had traveled to Neshtab alone and wandered around in Cloak and with her presence suppressed.

She wasn't going to allow herself to be detected until she was ready for it.

Not far ahead was one of the cultist encampments, and without even trying she could feel the darkness inside. These people had been manipulated and corrupted, possibly beyond help, and while the Lunar circle was preparing to engage them, Valery had moved ahead to scout and assess the situation for herself. Whether she'd make a move or not alone as well remained to be seen, but she had no time to waste.

 

[DT-1159]

Objective: I - Fractures in the Ice
Equipment: Armor | Rifle | Sidearm | Bio
Location: Camp Kalsba, Neshtab | Imperial Delegation
Tags: FN-999 | Sabine Korvan | Crail Halcyon

New assignment. For 59, it was the first ‘out of the ordinary’ one since he had left the experimental training program that had left him here. And frankly, it had surprised him. He wasn’t entirely aware that Korvan had a daughter that was residing within COMPNOR, as it wasn’t his job to keep track of some things. Then again, he supposed that wouldn’t really be information the Grand Moff would want wildly available. He was being entrusted with it, along with the squadron he was sent with with some measure of impassive discontent on the part of his VIP, from what he could observe. What 59 was more concerned with, however, was the difficulties with security that such connections could pose. He doubted Korvan would be so heartless as to cast his daughter to the fires when push came to shove. Couldn’t say for sure. Those decisions were typically left to soldiers.

The ride to the diplomatic meeting was mostly quiet among the squad members. Though he looked stoic and motionless as he held to the transport’s brace nearby, 59 himself was mentally reviewing the briefing. Political unrest, tug of war for loyalty. Sith-spawn and Remnants of Sith-Imperial Military. Traitors and Abominations, one and all. Thus meaning overall, that this was dangerous territory. It wouldn’t be a surprise if the meeting somehow went wrong, be it from the Galactic Alliance members that would most certainly be on the planet elsewhere, or from the many hostile elements that existed on this planet. As such, he had to be even more vigilant than he usually was at all these political meetings as of late. Yet still, there was little doubt in his mind Death Mask would suppress issues with ease, should they arise.

The visor, cold as it was, turned to Sabine Korvan upon hearing the question, briefly gauging her for a moment and noting the tone of mild disinterest. Not that he had anything specific to say about it, really. With an adjustment to his comm setting, “We do, ma’am.” Came the curt reply, thick with indifference if one could even tell through the modulation. Perhaps he could’ve added something snarky, such as ‘Actually, it’s duraplast composite, thank you very much,’ or gave some manner of reassurance of being under their protection. But that all would’ve been unnecessary. She knew what she was here to do, and he knew what he was here to do. He didn’t precisely hold the same level of reverence for her as he did for her father. More of a sense of ‘obligation,’ being the daughter of his patron. He’d have to see just how much of the Grand Moff was passed on to her.

...And perhaps he didn’t want to give her the satisfaction of some spiteful response if there was any to be had. He deemed himself above that.

When the shuttle touched down, he was among the first out shortly thereafter the woman. The one clad in snowtrooper armor (FN-999) arose mild interest, believing to have heard a mention of their name at one point or another amidst his training program. But such things were better saved to other occasions - now came one of the prime moments of his unit’s purpose, once they fell in step and presented themselves in an eerily calm, silent manner. Full display to the Commander, of which would likely find delight in such an expression of military power; even if merely for a diplomatic visit, 59 was quickly realizing the importance of these appearances lately. Solidifying one’s image sometimes allowed allies to be made quicker, and occasionally enemies made quicker. Here, the former was the intended effect. He listened in silent approval of the Baron’s words, then Sabine’s. Both proposals of policies, he approved of. The swift termination of rogue elements, and occupation to establish order were classic, after all.

 

[Kelinna Tryn]

R E A P E R
THE EMPIRE
LUNAR CIRCLE ENCAMPMENT | NESHTAB
TAG: Silas Westgard
GEAR: Armour | Sniper rifle | Pistol | Rifle | Vibroblade | Vibroknife | Grenade loadout

IN THE WHITE​

They were well and truly on their own now.

Their dark op on Bastion had gone truly awry and had scattered them all decently. But somehow, the Reaper found herself on Neshtab, still following the breadcrumbs from the nightmare that had unfolded and snowballed from Veroleem. And what a hornet's nest it was.

Those breadcrumbs led her straight into the maw of dread.

Ever since she made up and then bid farewell to her family and after the...hunting trip she and Hal had, Lily couldn't get life out of her mind. That there was something to live for, not just fight for, outside the Empire.

That simple life in the jungle of Yavin IV was tempting.

But here and now reeked of both Sith and Jedi. For the longest time she had fought against the Sith...until things turned sour on Kuat with the Alliance. And here they were - all pitted against one another. And the Reaper's hatred never burnt brighter.

The sharpshooter moved like a shadow through the encampment, unseen by most. But she was searching - not sure for what, as even the Bureau had forsaken SCAR. They were left to their own devices. Sarge had split off in a parallel direction. His words before the two of them had left the inconspicuous ship?

"One last op and we go back to that lodge."

She wanted to believe it with her whole heart. But a part of her knew that it could never be. They were killers. Not farmers. Which is why she was stalking the shadows now. Eyes open behind her visor, not only for oddities, but for one Jedi in particular. It wasn't on purpose. But she never left a job unfinished, and that subconscious was looking for the boy that had barely escaped with his life on Ilum. Personal prejudice warred with duty warred with peace.

Inner conflict on the battlefield was never good.

 

[Ironhide]

OBJECTIVE 1: FRACTURES IN THE ICE

Location: The Conservatory, Neshtab
Objective: Meet with Galactic Alliance representatives
TAGS: GALACTIC ALLIANCE DIPLOMATS ON OBJECTIVE 1
​

---

"What every interstellar government sees in welcoming another world into its fold -- opportunity. To shore up borders. Expand influence. Establish trade. Learn about your culture? Our Chancellor has poured considerable resources into museums and other outreach programs; make of that what you will."

“We understand the benefits of trade and protection that the Alliance would bring us, yes, along with the autonomy to self-government.” Ironhide glanced at Varos, the man representing the Seneschal of the Nests. Tha latter had a clear vested interest in maintaining the current arrangements on Neshtab, though in fairness, so did Ironhide.

"We could regale you with the countless ways the Alliance could benefit you -- medicine, industry, agriculture, city planning and construction. If you would permit me, however, Lord Protector, perhaps it is we that should ask what you see in the future of Neshtab. Do you want to grow into an industrial powerhouse? A technological wonder? A refuge for those seeking to commune with a greater power? Or merely a desire to rest assured that any invading force will think twice before believing your world ripe for plunder, and remain free to self-govern in accordance with your people's will? There are many opportunities we could explore, together, Lord Protector."

Ironhide thought for a moment.

“My first priority is the safety of Neshtab, and the preservation of our peoples. Outside that, industrial growth and climate-control units would be very beneficial, and AXION here-” Ironhide gestured to the administrative droid unit “-would be very interested in hearing how the Network’s free droid population would be protected from reprisal.”

“Many among the Network escaped owners in Alliance space, and are less than friendly with certain groups and corporations there.” Ironhide did not know the details, for it did not pay to dig too much into the grey market information trades of the Iron Network, but he knew that while the corporations of the Alliance would be happy to see increased connection with the info broker marketplace of the Network, they would take every opportunity to use that connection to seize control of it as well as their ‘lost property’.

“On the topic of safety, however, I would like to raise again another worry we’ve had.” Varos looked to Ironhide, and the Garug nodded.

“We understand this is a troubled time between the Alliance and the Empire. Should Neshtab join the Alliance, or even signal that we will, we worry this will antagonise the Imperials and invite retaliation or outright conquest. As you might expect, the ruling style of the Imperials would not sit well with most people here, and especially not with the Pariahs who, by definition, are still fugitives from Imperial law.”

“We have it on good intelligence that the Empire is making moves to court some on Neshtab, and failing that, preparing a ‘task force’ to ‘secure the border’,” AXION added, displaying intercepted communications on one of the screens of the meeting hall. The light from outside glinted off the frames.

“I ask you this, directly,” Ironhide said, fixing his gaze on the Alliance representatives.

“How much will the Alliance commit to defending Neshtab when the Empire acts, even now before negotiations are complete?”

 

[// Binary Haze]

OBJECTIVE 2: CHROME AND IRON

Location: Cave City Stenum-3, joint Nest-Iron Network administration, Neshtab
Objective: Evade pursuers, escape with vital data
TAGS: Marcus Voss Hacks || SPIES ON OBJECTIVE 2

​

Keep moving, keep moving.

The netrunner cut through another street, their eyes noticing a towering cyborg down the street, their data-signature standing out from the Neshtabine server architecture.

Paranoia gripped them, and Haze ducked into another street, unsure if the off-worlder spotted them. They increased their speed, hoping to get lost again.

Down this parallel street were some off-worlder tourists and a gaggle of non-humans, probably Neshtabine Nesters. Haze almost missed the cloaked figure looking around the streets behind them, with something in his hand. Another lost tourist?

Too many hunters. Need to entangle them.

The broker climbed one of the stone spirals leading up to another level, such as to be above the two off-worlders but moving across their paths. With luck, they'd both spot Haze and attempt to intercept, leading to them meeting each other first. The large cyborg looked nothing like the cloaked man, with no cybernetic signature on him beyond his comms somewhere on his person. With luck, they were at cross-purposes and would be busy dealing with each other once alerted to the other's presence.

 

[Suna-Hulai]

OBJECTIVE 3: HOWLING WIND

Location: Outskirts of the Meyeson Forest, Kosa Belt Tundra, Neshtab
Objective: Meet with NJO and IK warriors, prepare assault on Mawite cult
TAGS: Caltin Vanagor Dionus Bharro Valery Noble Lily Stevens || FORCE USERS ON OBJECTIVE 3
​

“We are not warriors of light, my Lady.” Dionus' voice belched forth, as if wrought from the very alloy that encased his body. “The Imperial Knights are enforcers of Order - nothing more, nothing less.” His eyes scanned those surrounding them - the fellow native peoples who accompanied the woman before him before he returned his attention to her. He carried a certain sense of purpose and command about him that would be all but impossible to ignore.

“It may seem like a small distinction to you, and I must admit I am not as familiar with your culture as i would wish. But I would say the main difference between us and the ‘Jedi’ who will be coming after us is; we don’t allow anything to stand in our way when doing what must be done, whether the source be of Light or Darkness.” He tilted his head to regard her for a moment before he continued: “But... to answer your question... the Empire recognizes the importance of the task before us. You will receive no trouble from us - of that I can assure you.”

Suna-Hulai gave a small nod, unfazed by the admittedly imposing voice of the off-worlder.

"Our understanding of the ways of your practices are still limited, as I am sure you understand." The Chorist reflexively disliked having to show humility to these off-worlders, especially in matters of Godsbreath, but if it was necessary for the completion of this mission...

"It is good to hear that nothing will stand in the way of the eradication of our corrupted kin. If necessary, I will be happy to continue working with your Orders in persecuting the ones who introduced the rot into the Howling Wind in the first place," she added, referring to the Maw, though she only vaguely knew that specific name.

Not far ahead was one of the cultist encampments, and without even trying she could feel the darkness inside. These people had been manipulated and corrupted, possibly beyond help, and while the Lunar circle was preparing to engage them, Valery had moved ahead to scout and assess the situation for herself. Whether she'd make a move or not alone as well remained to be seen, but she had no time to waste.

"Some of the Jedaii of the Alliance are with the forward scouts. Before they report back, I would like to give a brief description of the Howling Wind's encampment."

The Chorist swept her cloak open, feeling the biting cold of the wind. From within her cloak she withdrew a thin, flat piece of grey stone, smooth to the sight yet rough in touch, uniform in colour save for marks made on its surface. She placed it on the ground, drawing her staff to point at the marks made on it. It was a map of the Howling Wind encampment.

"The Howling Wind will have set up their encampment in the shadow of an outcropping. Its perimeter will be marked by windbreaks and these Stormshafts," lightning rods, of a sort, yet much more ornate and powerful, to draw in the ambient power of the storm gods for use by the Stormsingers of the Howling Wind.

"At its centre will be drawn the Circle's wagons where some of its Stormsingers and provisions will be placed. We have scouted barricades and ritual instruments placed inside the encampment as well, likely of iron and salt to empower the Howling Wind's Stormsingers' powers.

"Into the mountain outcropping lies a cave. Our people do not much care for caves where we are disconnected from the breath of our ancestors, but nonetheless the Howling Wind will have kept its more delicate and precious relics or items for temporary storage, as it appears they will be sheltering in place for the upcoming months."

The wind began to pick up.

"The weather these days is difficult to predict, given seasonal variation. Normally, us Stormsingers can read the mood of the winds to a certain degree, but we are reaching Shelter season soon, and the wind begans to move erratically.

"We have enough numbers to surprise and destroy most of the Stormsingers in the Circle, but such inter-circle warfare has been rare in generations. Hence, I would like to hear if you have any tactical suggestions."

---

Caltin Vanagor

Waiting outside the Corvette were a few nomadic Stormsingers, clearly out of place here at the Old Link starport. Only their leader seemed comfortable in this place, his beard neatly trimmed and waiting for the ramp to drop. They awaited on their beasts of burden, likewise uncomfortable in the large facility.

Spoiler: OOC

idk if Caltin wants to RP the journey there, I think once introductions are made we can skip ahead to joining the attack

 

[Maharak Akul]

OBJECTIVE 3: THE HOWLING WIND

Location: Meyeson Forest, Kosa Belt Tundra, Neshtab
Objective: SLAY THE JEDI
TAGS: MAW/NEW SITH ORDER ON OBJECTIVE 3
​

---

For this reason, Valery had traveled to Neshtab alone and wandered around in Cloak and with her presence suppressed.

She wasn't going to allow herself to be detected until she was ready for it.

Not far ahead was one of the cultist encampments, and without even trying she could feel the darkness inside. These people had been manipulated and corrupted, possibly beyond help, and while the Lunar circle was preparing to engage them, Valery had moved ahead to scout and assess the situation for herself. Whether she'd make a move or not alone as well remained to be seen, but she had no time to waste.

Valery would have seen much the same as Suna-Hulai 's description of the camp to Dionus.

She would also have seen monstrous beasts, their flesh twisted by clear Dark Side Alchemy, patrolling the campsite, as well as the tell-tale sign of Maw weaponry in the hands of some of the Stormsingers. Whether or not Mawites were present was yet to be determined, but their stink was all over this place.

The Eye waited.​