And To The Victor Goes The Spoils | First Order Dominion of Sullust

[Robogeber]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=dZcj56XXrPM​

And so it had come to this. A mere five years ago, the denizens of Sullust’s cities would have deemed the feat impossible, yet here they came. Vengeful victors, descending upon the planet. First Imperial soldiers, now marching into the cities, with the ever vigilant, wedge shaped star destroyers menacing in low orbit. Resistance had been, largely futile. Since the destruction of the medical station and its impact upon Sullust’s orbit, military assets had been largely removed from the system to the Core. Those who were foolish enough to challenge imperial power directly were eviscerated. Destroyed in the initial wave of imperial force.

Now, was the time for retribution. While other systems of the old Alliance could be forgiven for their trespasses, and installed with new regimes, Sullust was to serve as an example. It was of course Jaius Sovv’s homeworld. And as such, it would pay quite dearly for the actions of him. While the system was void of military targets, the Sullustian people were an industrious sort. And for that, they would be put to work. Even now, within hours of landing, the first wave of troopers had begun, with the assistance of Naval personnel, to exhume the ancient foundries of the planet and put them back to use. Camps were now being erected, and the cities abandoned.

Sullust would again become a world powered by industry, and its would pay a mighty reparation for having lain with an enemy. The servitude of Sullust’s people would be the currency taken. They would work the factories on the planet, and now arm their new masters with the weapons necessary to continue the pursuit of those who had once occupied and used the system as their capitol.

Imperial justice, was at hand.

Operation Shortstop: The Sorosuub Corporation worked to supply the Galactic Alliance with designs and products for their weapons of war. While history has shown that Sorosuub vessels and arms were clearly inferior, it has come to Central Command’s attention that the Company Headquarters may contain technical data of some interest. Secure this, before the companies remaining security staff can purge their schematics.

Ahab Protocol; Directive Five: The Sullustian are non-human beings, whose treachery must be punished. FOSB and the Department of Labour and Education have decided the population requires education and retribution for their crimes. As such, First Order troopers are to sweep through the cities, and ensure all citizens are processed and registered to government databases. Troopers will also be tasked to enforce martial law in their cities. Those who resist are to be terminated with extreme prejudice.

Operation Whitewash: The medical station destroyed during the brief Incursion event, has caused radiation to cling to the planets surface. While Sullust must suffer, death as a consequence of such tertiary forms as this, must be stopped. Scrub the medical station wreckage, and install filters around the crater to quarantine it, and ensure that it does not cause any more damage.

Ren Transmission #5: The New Jedi Order temple on the planet has been discovered. While largely purged of its key data, it still retains some suspected tactical value. Scour the temple for any data which may help us locate and crush the Alliance in Exile.

 

[Seto Du Couteau]

Seto Du Couteau, Ren
Equipment: FO-07K Multi-purpose Assault Armor
Location: Ruined Jedi Temple
Objective: Find Useful Data

Ren Transmission #5:​

"The New Jedi Order temple on the planet has been discovered.​

While largely purged of its key data, it still retains some suspected tactical value. ​

Scour the temple for any data which may help us locate and crush the Alliance in Exile."​

Dust, sewage, and swamps, a rather short list of things Seto utterly loathes. The situation in front of him though was both entirely new and relatable to the young Du Couteau heir. This Temple's state of affairs grew past any level of ransacked, the terminals to the lights all appeared either slagged or busted apart. The floor almost entirely disappeared beneath all the rubble that laid over the floor, Seto for his part gracefully stepped around much of the larger rubble pieces. His own droid floated next to him, and with a low beep it hovered further ahead to see if it could pull something from yet another busted computer terminal.

This whole processes reeked with slow methodical plans, unfortunately Seto had a rather low tolerance of such tedious plans. The repetitive nature of search and find nothing useful would soon to weigh heavily on Seto's mind, but even as early on as he was Seto already began to feel the strain. While Seto had learn to enjoy the art of counting cards and other though provocative games, there he could at least guarantee certain degree of success. Here in this Jedi Temple? He might as well count the seconds he had spent for each failed terminal search.

Seto slowly brushed his fingers along a stairway wall, colors had originally ordained this stairway, bright colors in fact. But much of it had chipped off and it certainly appeared rather unpleasant. He had once originally assumed that the galaxy had a rather strict balance of the Force, always the Galaxy kept it even. Now as he stood in perhaps the pride of the Jedi, Seto could only but scoff at his ridiculous notion. The Alliance had fallen and now its wasteful fruitless labor laid bare to all.

And Seto found it seriously wanting.

His droid beeped lowly, alerting the Ren that it had failed to located any useful data relevant to their mission. In fact, it hadn't found anything at all, and Seto sighed wearily as he continued to walk ahead to the next computer terminal.

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Objective IV
Praetorian Initiate
Equipment | Assault Armor, Lightsaber (blue), Vibrodaggers, Throwing Knives, Binding Wires
Location | Archive, Abandoned Jedi Temple, Sullust
Allies | [member="Seto Du Couteau"] (nearby), First Order
Objective | Search & find

[SIZE=11pt]Marriskcal stood before the unsealed blastdoor at the end of the vast Archive, her sensors and senses both cast wide in search of any signs of life or traps. A TCB-42 droid drifted behind her, floating slightly above her shoulder in an attempt to glean initial data from the once sealed room. With a wry smile, she gave her companion a nod, watching as it zipped past her and disappearing swiftly amongst the high shelves that lined the place. It was only when everything indicated that it was clear and safe did she proceed into the Holocron Vault, her gaze sweeping across the empty receptacles that once held holocrons and ancient texts.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Unlike the rest of the temple, the Archive and Vault remained mostly intact, barely damaged even through the chaos. It was a testament on how the previous inhabitants of the temple had sought to protect their repository of knowledge from destruction. Only fallen shelves, scattered holobooks, holochips and datatapes littered the floor, dusty with neglect. While there may still be relevant information lying somewhere in the mess, her main focus for now was on the computer terminal within the vault. While she doubted that the jedi filth has left any important materials behind, there was still a chance they did not manage to completely wipe the data before they had to abandon Sullust.[/SIZE]

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

TIE/sf
Gear: Armour of Ren | Lightsaber | Wristlink
Location: Atmosphere of Sullust

[ the bass drop ]​

​

The sleek TIE interceptor slid effortlessly through the atmosphere.

The unique shape of the Conquerer model was made even more distinct by the red flash that marked the port side of the cockpit module. The sound of the starfighters infamous engine wash was drowned out by the discordant beat that seemed to be radiating from within the bulbous sphere in which the TIE's sole occupant was currently cranking up the music.

A GR-75 transport and several Z-95 headhunters were trying to make a run for it.

As the boy's starfighter pursued them among the clouds, a trio of TIE fighters formed up on the youngling's wing as the might of the First Order rained like death from above.

As the headhunters broke away to engage the TIE fighters, the boy stayed on course as his own escorts moved to meet the incoming challengers. On the console in front of him, the triangular targeting computer, several shots fired out to sweep out at the transports ion drive. One shot seemed to sail straight into the center of the engine, producing a vibrant plume of blue flame as the transport suddenly began listing in mid-air.

Dipping low in the air, the youngling rotated the craft so that his head was aimed down toward the world far beneath the clouds. Gliding up along the undercarriage of the transport, a series of blaster bolts lashed out to score a series of explosive impacts to the repulsorlifts.

Flipping wing-over-wing, the TIE almost seemed to dance out from underneath the transport, which had now entered an aerodynamic stall. It's back end was dipping low, even as it seemed to turn with the remaining thrust from the remaining ion drive. The transport was dropping altitude. Slowly at first, gathering speed and momentum as it dropped out of the sky like a stone.

Peeling away from where the TIE fighters were continuing their pursuit and prosecution of the headhunters. Curving out over the planet, the youngling dropped altitude even as he kicked both the throttle and the bass into overdrive.

A large fireball rose up from the horizon, off to the boy's left. Head bopping along, body swaying side-to-side to the music, the youngling just continued to cruise. The structures were different than he had been expecting.

Cutting the engines, the child let inertia take hold. Piloting the TIE like a glider, he banked into an S-curve that bled the speed as he descended from over a distinctive building.

Agents had already descended upon the temple of the Jedi.

Kicking in the repulsors, the boy's TIE drifted over the deck to an empty spot before settling there. As the cockpit opened, the youngling execute a backflip-dismount that ferried him out of the spherical module and onto the ground below. Holding an over-the-ear music music player, the youngling hung the headphones around his neck as he glanced around for a moment and then started to wander within.

 

[Luther Lewis]

Isabella Fonti - Ex-SIS Agent
Location: Sullust - Jedi Temple.
Objective: Find Some Inner Peace, Reconcile Lost Souls.
Accompanied by: Saelle, Saeem, Saelae - Jedi Padawans, Triplets.

​

She breathed in deeply. The air was cool, with a faint taste of dust. ‘The taste of decay’ she thought sadly. The temple had once been a beautiful site in the barren surface of Sullust, but even as she she rekindled memories she struggled to see past the rubble and ruin.

She had been on Sullust during the incursion, aboard the Cardea Medical Centre. She’d barely escaped with her life, as murderous droids overwhelmed the station. She still mourned for that day, but the memories were laced with a long-forgotten hatred. Many lives were lost and not just from the droids. The bumbling Admiral Cathul Thuku had triggered multiple EMPs throughout the station, many of which crippled the stations systems and eventually led to its final demise. The station now lay in ruins, as dead and lifeless as the Alliance that once breathed it to life. But there was one thing that was set right, just before the station fell to the surface.

Isabella steeled her nerves. What had become of the three? Had they managed to survive out here, alone? Once again, guilt sparked within her. She had rescued them from the station but couldn’t look after them herself. Because of a fight for an already dying Alliance; that was one reason. A fear of them, a fear of their power, was the second.

She had reached the door, just before the meeting point. “I deserve their hate” she told herself. “I’ll just pay my respects, deliver the package and leave”. She pushed open the door. Three young women, all identical, turned at once to face her. Isabella swallowed; a lump was forming in her throat. “Hi, Girls” she said simply.

They rushed the Chiss, and all Isabella could do was raise her hands. The triplets hugged her from three sides and Isabella found herself enveloping them in a hug of your own. She began to weep; though from joy or sadness, she did not know.

“Welcome back, Miss Fonti” they chorused, and Isabella let out a laugh. Eventually they let go and stepped back. Wiping the tears from her eyes, she looked them over carefully. “My, you’ve all grown!” she exclaimed. They had looked so young before, but now they had matured into young women.

“I’m sorry I left” she said. “But I’m here to make it up to you. You called, and I answered. And I brought this, as requested”. She removed her pack and zipped it open, revealing the entire space filled with detonite.

| [member="Seto Du Couteau"] | [member="Marriskcal Lati"] | [member="Tao Liu Xian"] |​

​

 

[Konstantin Makarev]

Location: Byllurun City, Inner Suburbs
Objective: Ahab, Directive Five: Take count of the stock.
Allies: [member="Dante Calgar"]
Enemies: Sullustian

"You touch her again, I'll kill you!" The Colonel barked at the Sullustian. The armoured officer, his body glowing with sweat beneath the surface of this volcanic hellhole. Makarev gestured to the two stormtroopers, who held the elderly Sullustian up. With the command received, they dropped him, and the old man was left on his hands and knees. With extreme velocity, Konstantin landed two swift kicks on the man. One striking his chest, the other, contacting with his face, the steel within his boots cracking the poor mans skull, causing blood to foam from his mouth. He rolled around, screaming something in his degenerate tongue. Makarev, then squatted beside him, "Let this serve as a lesson to you. Never, ever try to kark with the First Order." He hissed at his target, satisfied, before hocking a loogie at his face, and standing, his attentions turning to the FOSB agent who'd been assailed. "Will you be alright Agent?"

The FOSB officer nodded, her platinum blonde ponytail bobbing up and down as she did so. "I think we will be Colonel." She coolly informed him, before looking at her stormtrooper cohorts, "Up!" She commanded, "I want the upper levels searched and secured, make sure no one is hiding!" She then keyed in something on the datapad, most likely a notice about the elderly man who was now limping towards his apartment. Satisfied, Makarev offered a quick salute, before proceeding out of the small block of flats, and into the grander avenue. The entire street was dominated by stormtroopers, and FOSB officers, rushing into buildings. The cries of anguish of Sullustians were forcibly counted was something of melodic.

They had taken so much from Konstantin. So many good men and women over the years. And now? Satisfaction. He brimmed with it, a callous smugness overcoming him. This was only the beginning. Soon, the true suffering would begin. Konstantin reached down to his belt, he took his canteen, and then wiped some sweat from his forehead, it was ineffectual, but it was at least something. The cool water gushed down his throat, relieving him from the heat. Felt like a blasted furnace down here. Reaching for his commlink, Makarev thought he'd check into command, "This is task force 414, in East Y'Bishi." He informed the local command, "Count is currently proceeding on schedule. Resistance, minimal."

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Sulon - Sullustan Moon

The hoe skirted across the ground, worn barren by his obsessive plowing. Every smack of the metal resounded outward with a pang of pitted steel against quartz aggregates and eroded soil. How long he had been working that spot, he couldn't immediately recall. Many days had passed since things felt prosperous in this region of the universe.

The Alliance had left, retreating from their endeavors in the wake of insurmountable insistence. From the First Order, from the Sith Empire, from everyone that would seek to grip the universe so tightly - draining away what goodness remained. Who needed kindness and mercy, when they could have ultimate power...ultimate order?

The wake of his path from the homestead to his field could be tracked where the wheat laid bent, outstretched hands feeling harshly at the inflorescence to remind himself of why he did it. Why he had told people to leave, to abandon this world and the world of Sullust in the suns eclipse. Because, sooner or later, things would drain away.

It was all just a matter of time.

He let out a huff as he hit the ground again, tossing dirt into the air. Clods and peds formed shadows as they descended back to the ground. But those shadows didn't disappear.

Looking up towards the sky, he formed a visor with his hand and winced. Sullust was like their sun and now, flying vessels formed tiny obstacles in the view - like the planets molten surface gained additional pocks of burnt carbon. Gabe couldn't know who or what it was, but it surely wasn't the Alliance.

"Dick..." He uttered, wiping sweat from his weatherbeaten face. "Sorry sir, you're breaking up."
"You're just across the field. I can see you. That chrome serves a poor form of camouflage...and I'm not using a device to talk to you."

Gabe watched as the bucket head lifted his eyes, scanning the horizon. "Quite right."

"Send out a message to Cera and to Ava, to everyone. Somethings coming...it's here."
"Everyone."
"Yep."
"Sir, will we be evacuating?"

He shook his head and shooed the robot on with his task with silence. This field still needed tending to.

[member="Cerusia Shamalain"] | [member="Avalore Eden"] | [member="Meeristali Peradun"] | [member="Destin Eden"] | [member="Ellifain Eden"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Jacen Voidstalker"]

 

[Robogeber]

Allies: [member="Konstantin Makarev"] | [member="Tao Liu Xian"] | [member="Marriskcal Lati"] | [member="Seto Du Couteau"]
People: [member="Gabriel Sionoma"]
Location: FIV Pellaeon
Objective: Secure Sulon
Sullust glowed beneath the Pellaeon. A firey gem in the cold void. This, had been where the beast had started. The Galactic Alliance. Part of Grand Admiral Rausgeber's view was a sense of surprise that such an inhospitable world, had spawned such evil and malice. It seemed, at least, the planet was an almighty forge which had seemingly crafted it from nothingness. Perhaps it stood as a testament to the tenacity of the Sullustians, and resilience of the Jedi. But then again, history had shown otherwise.

"How is the traffic?" Rausgeber inquired. The First Order now retained orbital supremacy. The brief skirmish with the local defence force, and Sorosuub private contractors had sworn in an imperial hegemony. Now, the vast void was now sparesly populated. Aside from the gargantuan destroyers, and escorts which sat between the volcanic world and the moon of Sulon.

"Traffic on Sullust is at a standstill sir." The Fighter Operations Officer reported, "All civilian vessels are grounded on Sullust, only our fighters and transports are mobile." Good. Very good. Still, the moon was seemingly an obstacle. Forces had been concentrated largely in and around the planet. While of course the interdiction field provided by the Keeper-Class Interdiction stations within system would tether any wayward vessels, Rausgeber felt that they had perhaps neglected Sulon.

"I think given the quietness of this operation," The Grand Admiral coolly began, "That we can afford to dispatch a small group to Sulon." He continued, before eyeing his tactical display. "Commodore Royle would be a suitable candidate." He mused, "Have the Conquest and an escort fleet move to orbit the moon, patrol pattern Orvis." The order was silently relayed as the droid continued to formulate a stratagem, "Order TIE patrols, low orbit over the moon. We shall assert our dominance."

 

[Cerusia Shamalain]

"Good afternoon Sibyll, is Miss Cera available to speak with?"

Sibyll would never be able to get over that question, considering the implication of speaking in this particular circumstance. The woman stared at the holoscreen with narrowed eyes, wondering if the droid did this on purpose every time or if he was, in fact, supremely thick.

Dick stared balefully ahead, his droid face ever the optimistic expression of polite patience.

"Cera," she called towards the back, "Dick wants to speak with you."


When she looked up it was from a long stint of being distracted. Something had caused her mind to wander - a strange feeling she couldn't explain, the very same one experienced when they missed a step while walking down the stairs. The pit of one's stomach falling out of tune with the rest of their body. Cera had been feeling it all day and the sensation had grown stronger within the last hour, creeping upwards into her chest where it tied anxious knots through her ribs. She was happy for a different sort of distraction, even if it meant dealing with Dick.

"Oh, good afternoon Miss Cera, I have been tasked to inform you by Gabriel that, and I quote, Something's coming ... it's here."

Cera furrowed her brows, eyeing the image of the droid with some skepticism. He had an annoying habit of being cryptic, but this seemed especially ambiguous. She made a motion with her hands for the droid to continue.

"Oh, no, that's all there is to report. Good day."

And then he was gone.

Silence fell upon the small office in the back of the book shop, broken only by the creaking of Sybill pushing off the doorframe.

"I really hate that droid..." the woman muttered.

No matter her feelings towards the droid, it was the feeling in her gut that had shot an electric jolt of adrenaline into her blood at the words of Gabe. Cryptic or not, something wasn't right. Cerusia grabbed her things, pulled on her jacket and hood and took her leave of the shop to make home for the homestead and the man tending the fields.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]

 

[Karl Von Strauss]

Allies: [member="Robogeber"] | [member="Konstantin Makarev"]
Location: FIV Duchess, escort ship for Commodore Royle
Objective: Secure Sulon

Although this wasn't what captain Von Strauss had in mind for his new heavy star destroyer's maiden voyage, it was however adequate, in order to stress test the engines and other electronics of the ship. While being one of the most advanced HSD's in any arsenal, it was the first, the namesake of the class of itself. Therefore it was stereotyped as the runt of its class, and to be ultimately the most likely to fail in some sort of way or to work out kinks in the design for the future ships of the class. Karl thought little of these rumors and stereotypes. He had taken time to design and build this with all the power that was granted while building took place, in order to make the perfect capital ship for any captain or admiral.

Karl was seated in his command chair when the order came in from Admiral Rausgeber, which was read out loud by one of the officers in the pit. "Sir, there are orders for us to move with Commodore Royle as an escort. We are to, 'Assert our dominance,' as the Admiral put it." Karl looked at the hologram laid out in front of him portraying the 'battlefield.' He looked up from it, "Alright, match speed with the Commodore's vessel and have the Anastasia follow us as well. Once we get closer to the moon we will deploy our fighters. We need not waste fuel."

 

[Amilthi Camlenn]

Location: Abandoned Sentinel Training Centre
Tags: [member="Kyrel Ren"]

The surface of Sullust was an unpleasant place. The Sullustans avoided it by dwelling underground, but the Jedi of the Galactic Alliance had taken the opposite approach: they had built a temple floating high above it. But Amilthi had never visited it, and now the sight was no longer to be had: abandoned and carefully emptied of its vast archives, it had fallen to the surface. The same archives it had housed had been re-erected on Coruscant, where Amilthi had found them in the care of a remarkable Celegian. She wondered what had become of him and his life's treasure of knowledge, now that Coruscant had fallen.

But it was not this temple, its existence merely momentary on a galactic scale, that had drawn Amilthi's interest when she had found herself on Sullust. There were other structures, more hastily abandoned in the wake of the disintegration of the Alliance, where one might find more recent traces of the now-scattered Jedi's whereabouts. Even after the temple and its archives had been moved, the Jedi were said to have entertained a subterranean training centre, embedded in a heated cavern between stream of lava that had almost made it to the surface, but abandoned their journey and flowed back towards the planet's core.

Amilthi had found the life support systems, powered indefinitely by abundant geothermic energy, still active, and the air inside was clean and dry, free of the tar and grime that irritated the lungs outside. What used to be the publicly accessible parts of the structure were still so. The place was dusty, but too recently abandoned to be decaying yet. The shelves of the public library that had been housed here were only half-emptied, still filled with materials that the Jedi had not found to be of any particular import. Still, the cataloguing computer system had been deactivated.

The more private part of the structure was built into the rock itself, underground in the undergrounds. It was sealed off, as its nature as a shelter made natural, protected by thick blast doors. The access terminal had been shorted out, and after brief consideration, Amilthi had found herself with no other option than to turn a civilised weapon into a tool of savagery: it took her a considerable time, but eventually she deactivated her lightsabre and stepped over the molten metal into the former training grounds.

She threw a glance back, she knew not why, and suddenly she was overcome by a sickening feeling of doom. Her idle exploration was at an end.

 

[Seto Du Couteau]

Seto Du Couteau, Ren
Equipment: FO-07K Multi-purpose Assault Armor
Location: Ruined Jedi Temple
Objective: Find Useful Data

​

Seto continued along his rather worn and debri-filled path, much of the same continued his way as yet another terminal yielded nothing of importance. There had been no resistance so far, in fact the state of which the Temple appeared nearly drew Seto away from even entering the ruined place. He swiped his gauntlet with a finger, and his droid continued its search of each terminal, but now it would do so freely and allowed Seto to venture further into the temple alone.

The whole place felt so eerie, with the place void of life, save his siblings and his own, Seto breathed a deep and calmly expanded his senses outwards with the Force. Perhaps a need to assure the lack of anything living or rather a message to anyone still here in the Temple that they were no longer alone. Like a beacon of sorts. Seto bemused himself with the notion, his legs continued to carry him further into the Temple and he carefully picked himself across much of the rubble and destroyed hallways.

The young Du Couteau continued to pick his way across the hallway, and slowly he came to a full stop, his head jerked upwards and eyes focused ahead. Seto could not be sure, but he felt emotion not from either of his sister or brother from somewhere in the Temple. He resumed his pace and quietly he smiled to himself. Not lifeless after all.


[member="Marriskcal Lati"] | [member="Tao Liu Xian"] | [member="Zai Avery"]

 

[Coren Starchaser]

The creepers of the galaxy would continue to creep around, the crime never ceasing. The darkness continued to suffocate, while the light was doing its best to keep from being extinguished. To keep hope alive. All while the citizens of the galaxy carried on their lives, major changes affecting them at the will of those who seek to control. But in the depths of the light, there are the watchmen, the ones who have posted themselves on particular worlds and regions of space. Some remained in the Galactic Alliance Remnant space, like [member="Gabriel Sionoma"], while others sought to do their best to keep watch from afar.

And that was not always the way to do it. They would chase the fight, blocking the Sith and dark side advancement wherever they could. An aspect of their personality that was not helping those left behind. But as the Spear of the Alliance and her battlegroup were moving on their way back towards Terminus, in the Outer Rim Coalition.

“Whats the reports? Any word on more Mon Cala evacuating? And the Core?” The General turned to the representative from [member="Jaius Sovv"]’s office to listen.

“Sir, the worlds are in turmoil, we think the most who were leaving have joined us in the Coalition space. Every so often, Alliance Command is picking up transmissions from cells around the former space.”

The Jedi nodded and turned back to the starfield. He wasn’t on the primary bridge, but a secondary bridge that he set aside for meetings from the heads of state. The ship pulled from lightspeed and Coren could sense that it was shifting its course, And before it even jumped back into hyperspace, he was up and moving.

“Sir?” Asked the State representative.

“Sullust. Ready the teams.” He said, just as the alert came across the intercom that the ship was rerouting to the former Capital.

[member="Gabriel Sionoma"]
[member="Zark"]
[member="Veino Garn"]
[member="Romi Jade"]
[member="Mishel Noren"]

 

[Kou'ha Escala]

BYOO
Captain
Equipment | Uniform & Code Cylinder
Location | Command Deck, FIV Pellaeon, Sullust Space
Allies | [member="Robogeber"], [member="Karl Von Strauss"], First Order
Unknown | Galactic Alliance
Status | Observing

[SIZE=11pt]Though it has been several months since, his failure still weighed heavily on his mind. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Despite the kind words of her ladyship. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Despite not being outright executed while he was onboard the Wrath. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Despite the irrevocable fact that he has been cleared by Central Command.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Even with the knowledge, the once Captain of Battlegroup Nebula and Concordia still felt its acute weight. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Kou’ha Escala stood on the command deck of FIV Pellaeon, his back straight and shoulders tense as he kept to his silent observation of Grand Admiral Rausgeber as the other relayed his orders. Though his uniform remained immaculate and his mien neutral, his eyes continued to be haunted by shadows. Long hours of trying to make up for his mistakes, sleepless nights brought about by guilt, it has taken its toll on the young Captain. Still, he continued to persevere, fuelled by spite and loathing.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]While this was not the first, nor would it be the last time he would find himself working alongside the other, it did not change the fact that it was awkward to be standing in the same space as the Grand Admiral. No words has been exchanged between them. No reprimand, no disciplinary actions. The silence was almost stifling and the Epicanthix almost wished for the other to issue him an order, just so he could keep his mind occupied and allow him to ignore the dark emotions that gnawed at him.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]But until the Grand Admiral found the time to address him, Kou’ha will continue to remain patient.[/SIZE]

 

[Luther Lewis]

Isabella Fonti - Ex-SIS Agent
Location: Sullust - Jedi Temple.
Objective: Listen to the plan.
Accompanied by: Saelle, Saeem, Saelae - Jedi Padawans?, Triplets.

​

“Why did contact me?” Isabella asked. “Why are we here of all places?”. They all smiled, but it was Saielle who spoke. “We have been living here, on the surface of Sullust. It is a harsh land, but it has taught us many valuable lessons”.

The way she said that unnerved Isabella. How on earth had they survived here? The temple was in ruins. Perhaps there was once some remainder of supplies, but that would not have lasted long.

“What kind of lessons?” Isabella asked hesitantly, the girls hadn’t dropped their creepy smiles. She was beginning to feel like she understood them less then she first assumed. “The first lesson occurred above Sullust” Saeem spoke this time. “Before and after the disaster. We felt the deaths of those around us, as the droids killed. At first it was but a small taste, but when the station crashed into the surface, it was like being awakened’.

Isabella felt a sinking feeling in her stomach, and she began edging away from the trio. “The second lesson is one you taught us, Miss Fonti”. Saelae’s voice was deeper, tinged with a powerful quality that filled her dread. “When you left us, alone, we knew we could depend on no one but each other. All that mattered was us three, and all others only existed to make us stronger”.

They were noticing her wariness and had begun pacing around her. “The third lesson is this...” They were alternating now, each girl speaking a fragment of each sentence. “To cut all ties, to sacrifice the last things we love”. She was fighting down panic now. “This temple, already ruinous, will be reduced to a fine dust”. Isabella eyed the explosives that she’d foolishly brought along.

They stopped, close to her, and spoke in unison. “And you, our last friend… will die”. Isabella leapt away and made a run for the exit. She ran straight for Saelle, planning to knock the girl over and flee through the arch behind her. Much to her surprise, the girl simply stepped out of the way. Isabella rushed past, but felt an invisible force grip her leg.

He screamed as she was hoisted into the air. Dangling upside down, she rose higher and higher. “We’ll be back for you, Isabella” Saelle said. Her voice sounded like a whisper in her ear, yet she was far below Isabella now. “We just need to take care of a few guests”. She felt the invisible grip slacken and she screamed as she plummeted downwards.

- - - - -​

​

Isabella hit the floor, hard, and didn’t stir. The triplets drew their lightsabers and left the chamber. Splitting up, each would move to confront one of the three Ren who were exploring the temple ruins…

| [member="Seto Du Couteau"] | [member="Marriskcal Lati"] | [member="Tao Liu Xian"] |​

 

[Progflaw99]

Errant thoughts ran unhindered through Moff Calgar's mind as he blankly stared at his closed fist. Moving each finger slowly it was almost as if he was looking through his hand entirely. The First Order had been at war as long as he could remember. First against the Galactic Alliance and their comrades in arms. Foreign governments, rag-tag groups of poor and battered patriots. *We'll afford them the opportunity to make themselves martyrs.* A cold vacant stare into the void punctuated the Minister of Security's internal monologue. Aboard the FIV Hammerheart, the Minister had come to personally oversee the addition of the industrial world to the Order's rapidly growing portfolio.

A voice drew him from his thoughts, the familiar sound of a comm ping only just preceeding. "Minister Calgar, we've been instructed to prepare a shuttle. You're to join a Colonel Makarev on the ground. Seems they want to begin the sequestration immediately." The affirmation of their orders came by way of a twitch at the corner of his lips, a soft response issued. "Alright, alright, alright..."

-​

​

What little resistance they had encountered during their initial arrival had been washed away, debris still lingering in orbit but nothing that wouldn't bounce harmlessly off the hull of the shuttle. Not long after boarding they were already landing on the surface of the molten planet. Dante's entourage consisted of an unconventional mix of First Order staff. A few geologists, a couple of FOSB operatives, a small cadre of medical personnel, and perhaps most surprisingly of all - an escort of two TIE pilots, famed officers belonging to the First Legion. Fortan's Fist. Elsewhere upon the surface the geologists had identified a stable section of ground and marked it. What for they hadn't said but Dante knew. This was a planet steeped in precious metals, endless potential for production, a crucial element in maintaining the superiority of the First Order's war machine.

*Now to business.* With a final tug on the straps of his environmental gear they stepped off. A few minutes later they could see a bunker of sorts - more likely an elevator hub to the city below. Dante found it interesting. The Sullustans had managed to adapt to life on this barren waste - not only survive but thrive. If the First Order were to assume control of the planet things would change... drastically. In part due to an overall shift in philosophy but also at his hand. Plans had been set in motion. With a final glance at the smoke filled horizon of Sullust the elevator doors closed and they began their descent towards Y'Bishi. With a thought towards safety, Dante keyed up his comm. If the scanners weren't wrong their entourage was coming down almost on top of the Colonel.

:: Harlot One to Task Force Four One Four. We are descending to your position. How copy? ::​

​

[member="Konstantin Makarev"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

Objective IV: Data Collection
Nearby: [member="Marriskcal Lati"]

-

The life of an agent was never over - constantly tasked with field work. Unless you went the command route. The thought caused a scowl to spread thinly across her lips. That had never been her ambition but as time went on she seemed to be accumulating more and more responsibility. It was fortunate then that she'd been allowed on this little foray - on account of her technical skills. That and a storied history of field operations had earmarked her file when the mission had been drafted.

Resistance had been practically nonexistent. The crumbling Alliance had taken up refuge amidst the Outer Rim, protected by the Coalition much to the Order's chagrin. A spurred attempt at retribution had further driven the Order's zeal for Alliance blood. In part, a reason for their drive towards the former Alliance capital - or one of them. It was hard to tell what their overall strategy was at this point. So long had they gone unhindered across the Outer Rim it seemed to put a falter in their step being rebuked at Skor. Things didn't feel the same to Val. Even the intelligence reports had become muddled, scattered, and in some cases downright unreadable. If she had to put her finger on it all evidence indicated that the First Order was having an identity crisis. Hiccup after hiccup had seen changes at the highest levels. Even the Grand Moff seemed to be suspiciously absent from the galactic stage. A more superstitious person might have warned of bad omens. Val didn't buy it.

As usual there had been a few delays in her deployment. Crowded space lanes, debris fields interfering with her going to ground but finally she'd managed to catch up with the small operations team sent to what had been a Jedi Archive. Almost eerie it had been. Traveling down long corridors and winding halls until they'd reached their destination. Though Val was familiar in working with Sieger's own knights she didn't recognize these. *New blood?* she wondered silently. It wasn't pertinent to her mission however and so she fell in behind. She'd waited patiently as the droid entered the former Jedi repository, stepping in herself only once the woman in front of her did so. At first her weapon was raised but as her eyes took in the sight of the emptiness of the place she lowered its barrel. With a motion of her hand the other three operatives at her command fanned out. If it was as empty as it appeared they'd report shortly. In the mean time, Val spoke to the woman ahead of her - an agent of Sieger himself.

"This is where the data is supposed to be?"​

​

​

 

[Konstantin Makarev]

Allies: [member="Dante Calgar"]
Objective: Organise Security for the Moff
Location: Central Y'Bishi
Makarev continued to stride through the streets, an escort of stormtroopers attired in the traditional armour. It was to be quite honest, a propaganda sight to behold. All the while, while Makarev stalked through the streets, taking data reports, and manually auditing the FOSB teams which were now registering the populace. The resistance seen in Y'Bishi was.... concerning on some levels. The Colonel had not anticipated so many of the relatively cosmopolitan elite who dominated the inner suburb, to wilfully throw down their lives. And for what purpose? Nothing. All they'd been asked was to list the members of their family within the residence. Pitiful.

It dawned on Makarev that perhaps Sullust required some word of warning. Some show of force that would display to them that this was only the beginning, and that those who did resist? They would suffer dearly. Makarev was in the midst of checking on FOSB team, designate Vespes Four, when his commlink buzzed, he pressed the unit to his ear. Immediately, the heat fatigued officer was struck by the importance. Harlot had of course, only one meaning. Calgar. "Harlot, this is Task Force Four One Four," He began, "Proceed to the middle of the street." Makarev hastily changed the channel, "This is Makarev, I need a platoon of stormtroopers, on my position, now!" He growled.
The following minutes were one filled with anxiety, as a platoon was cobbled together for the Moff's security. Even as the shuttle could be seen, entering in the distance, Makarev's heart pounded like he was in the midst of battle. He watched as the shuttle descended even lower, and hitched his breathe, before standing tall and strong, and then approaching the shuttle as its ramp extended. He did his best to look professional, even as his face was smeared in sweat. "Moff Calgar." The Colonel warmly began, offering a crisp salute to the politician, "Welcome to Y'Bishi."

 

[Prennis Keeoli]

| Objective: Ahab Protocol > Complete Medical Intake Examinations |
| Location: Y'Bishi City Center > Checkpoint Partition Medical Tent |​

| Nearby: [member="Dante [/COLOR][COLOR=#c0392b]Calgar"], [member="Konstantin [/COLOR][COLOR=#c0392b]Makarev"] |​

| Enemies: Sullustians (?) |​

| Post: 01 |​

†††​

'Fit to work.'

Terrani checked the box on the small flimsiplast card and scribbled her signature along the bottom to approve the female Sullustian she was currently seeing. "You're clear," the doctor said, looking up to hand over the card. "Don't lose that," she warned, her voice artificially unemotional. She was trying so hard, but she couldn't quell the voice in the back of her head that was wondering if this female was the mother of the child that she had just denied work clearance.

The alien didn't say anything; she simply stood, pocketed her card, and wondered out of the tent. The simplicity of it made Aes'ona's gut churn. No dirty look? No argument? No raised voice? No rude gesture? Nothing?

She spun on the slight heel of her shoes, turning to the FIV Pellaeon's nurse assisting her and asked, "Baric, I need a minute. You think you can take over?"

"Uh, whatever you need, Doctor," he replied somewhat hesitantly. Even though he had been watching the process over her shoulder for a good while and it was only a very fundamental physical exam, he was still nervous that his training wheels were about to be ripped away--even if they would come right back.

"Than--" she muttered, the word cut off as she rushed past him. She bat away one of the white cloth flaps hanging over the back of the long tent in order to duck outside, into the slightly hotter environment of the city center. She was thankful that she had chosen to put her hair up but still sought to grip the ponytail as she doubled over to vomit.

Just when she straightened, thinking her system purged, she bent again.

The Grand Admiral asked you to do a job, she thought, wiping at the side of her mouth with the inside of one of her jacket sleeves tied around her waist.

Just like Dagobah. Just...karking do it.

And then she began to rationalize, rather tried to: even if she had just separated a family, the child would end up in capable hands...wouldn't he?

 

[Gabriel Sionoma]

Sulon - Sullustan Moon

There was a certain philosophy he followed. It wasn’t something that guided him in the sense of inner voice or some sort of subconscious practice. It was a cosmically driven dogma, an innate intention that dictated his future actions. And the philosophy was simple.

Every sandwich deserved mustard.

Now, many people had spent countless hours debating him on this topic. Why not mayonnaise, they would ask. And he would reply with a shrug, pointing out the countless varieties of mustard as the ultimate strength for his calling. Just as the force guided him in life, this call to mustard demanded attention with every slice of bread that formed the entrapped and mysterious entity that was an expertly crafted sandwich.

Bread fed from wild yeast, given egg and sugar, and formed into a fluffy yet fulfilling ciabatta. With just an ounce of that sour taste. But as much as the bread was important, what was contained within - like the bejeweled holocrons of Jedi Masters of old - was so much more significant.

He shuffled through the remainders of the refrigerator. His path was blocked by the persistent obstacles of expired milk, though only by a week, some cheese that was purposely set to growing mold, and a quickly growing batch of freshly canned jams and preserves. Force help anyone who asks him the difference. But after much toiling, he found his way to his ultimate quarry. Something set in parchment with words scribbled across the top - in handwriting that was oddly similar to Cera’s.

Don’t open until your birthday!​

Don’t!​

The wizened warrior felt the slightest ping of immaturity as he slapped that package down on the wooden counter-top and cracked ‘er open. He held his hand to his mouth, feeling his breath escape his opened lips, as he looked in awe upon a beautifully aged cut of meat - coated in a thick layer of seasoning and glistening with just the slightest shine of caramelization. He scoffed and shook his head.

This would have never lasted until his birthday.

The sandwiches formed themselves. One for him, another for himself, and one more for the Sheriff of Sulon. He also made one for Momurr and one for Opi - they were working hard to push several storage crates up from the basement to the exterior components of the house. Nothing substantial, just portable defensive equipment and military gear - standard leftovers from the Sulon Law Enforcement Expeditionary Group.

Dick had confirmed that the message to what remained of the Alliance was received. What that meant for Sulon, Gabe wasn’t sure. But setting the plates on the wrought iron table on the porch, he looked towards the hint of Baron’s Hed on the horizon. He mentally snapped his finger, hearing the rattling of the storage bins rolling through the house.

He forgot the mead.

[member="Cerusia Shamalain"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"]
[member="Karl Von Strauss"] | [member="Robogeber"]