Invasion As You Know, Our Blockade is Perfectly Legal | First Order Invasion of Galactic Alliance Held Hex L,

[Progflaw99]

The Ruusan Accords.​

A blatant attempt to delegitimize the government of the First Order.​

Those futile attempts will be met with force - a response long in coming.​

One obstacle, a cease fire garnered by Grand Moff Fortan between the warring governments of the Galactic Alliance and the First Order stands in the way of the coming conflict. An unexpected turn of events begins to unfold as the near hermit Supreme Leader of the First Order emerges from his recluse sounding the drums of war once again.​

For the First Order. For Sieger Ren. They will return to war.​

Sieger wills it!​

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Opening Theme​

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Hex L-49 \\ FIV Executioner \\ Resurgent-class Star Destroyer​

Faction: First Order \\ Enemy: Galactic Alliance \\ Status: En Route, Hyperspace​

In Vicinity: [member="Ara Zambrano"] | [member="Brennan Cabrol"] | [member="Elensa Jari"]​

Over the preceding months much had happened. The Galaxy was once again at motion, governments rising and falling in the wake of the Silver Jedi collapse and relocation as they fought to stay alive. Struggled to stay alive, as Sieger saw it. For years he had remained ever the recluse, appearing only when necessary and perhaps not even then. Times had changed and no longer could he afford that luxury. The war fought between the Galactic Alliance and the First Order had stalled after the acquisition of Mustafar, the battles bloody for both galactic powers - enough to prompt a respite. A carefully worded arrangement established between [member="Jaius Sovv"] and [member="Natasi Fortan"] had seen a brief pause to the conflict at large though the underlying tension remained.

All open hostilities had ended that day, along with the mandated withdrawal of significant military forces from the Lothal sector. Some called it peace, others called it folly. Not everyone had been content to set down the sword in favor of an extended hand, now they might get their chance to once again take up arms against the other galactic superpower. At the will of Sieger the military had once again been mobilized, but this time with a less aggressive intent - at least by appearances. No single planet attracted the Supreme Leader’s attention, instead an entire swathe of space along the Hydian way.. and a hair beyond.

Though it was true the Hydian Way was certainly an active trade route, a much larger trade route rest nearby. The Corellian Trade Spine. Securing the Hydian way against disorder was a stretch on the scale of reason but it was sufficient enough. Politics was a tricky game, internally, externally, no matter what arena one found themselves in. It would do. A short chirp at the door jarred the Supreme Leader from his musings. Soon they would arrive in system. Rising from where he sat his eyes fell to the wide transparisteel viewscreen, an unhindered view of gentle white light reflected by the stars as they traversed hyperspace. The plan had been set in motion, their intent one not of outright destruction as might have been desired by some but neither a lack of action.

A determined grimace creased the man’s features. Between governments hadn’t been the only ones undergoing change. The pain of old age had long begun to tear at Sieger Ren’s body, his determined and unrelenting will drawing him ever closer to the secrets of immortality but yet he had to firmly grasp it. A stopgap had given him a measure of youth returned, his weakened flesh rejuvenated and filled with power renewed but even he knew it was temporary. The search for a more permanent solution had consumed him for many months but it was only now that he realized just how long. He had always been wary of the Galactic Alliance on their border, aware of the subtle plots near border worlds to subjugate power from the Order and its government but the latest of these could no longer go unanswered.

It was with the invitation for a collaboration now known as the Ruusan Accords that set Sieger’s mind to motion. In their previous battles the objective had always been to acquire valuable worlds whether for production or strategic value, this time the game was different. Denial. Some might see it as an act of war and in many cases it was, but it was a different war. Not one fought by soldiers for mere meters on the ground, not a war fought by artillery and armor - no. This would be the first move in a chess game that could see the Order rise to glory unmatched or equally ground to dust. It wouldn’t be enough to simply overcome this enemy, no this enemy must be made to feel the sting of every battle, the loss of every world. A new war was beginning, and it would start here.

​

A shadow was soon to pass over a hex on the Galactic Standard Map. Hex L-49. It was unremarkable, mostly open space with a spattering of small worlds in varying systems but had largely managed to remain less than a passing reference in galactic history by mention of the Hydian way. Merchant vessels sometimes cut through, skimming just into the Hydian way then back out again, saving them some fuel and decreasing the probability of customs patrols. Today wasn’t the day to be doing so.

A small vessel at first, hardly the size of corvette emerged from hyperspace, nothing more than a sudden flash of light before fading into the backdrop of the void. Minutes later it was joined by another flash, and another - the fleet was arriving. It was a quiet sector of space, no nearby planetary bodies. Ship after ship descended from hyperspace of varying size and shape. Most notably however was one of the larger, in fact the largest of the first group. No doubt the others were close behind. The shape gave it away immediately - the distinctive slope of the hull, the wedge shape. This was a First Order vessel.

The FIV Executioner, Sieger Ren’s own flagship was at the head of the fleet, a Resurgent-class Star Destroyer. Behind it appeared the first of several massive hulks of durasteel and metal. The silhouette was something other than a vessel, too long and wide, this was a space station. Within moments of exiting hyperspace, the Executioner and support vessels broke out of formation, moving across the empty space as the station moved towards the front. They could waste no time in preparing - the very second they had arrived they were on the clock.

On the Bridge Sieger himself stood, piercing gaze watching through the viewscreen as the vessels splayed out before him. Everything came to a head sooner or later and truthfully the war had never ended, only been postponed. In such a dry bed of grass, it would take only a spark…

It was time. ​

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OOC Notes:

Spoiler

Invasion of Hex L, 49

Invading Faction: The First Order
Defending Faction: The Galactic Alliance

Date of First Notification of Intent: 11/28/17
Date of Invasion Start: 12/5/17

Faction Staff

First Order
Rolf Amselhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/11879-rolf-amsel/
Natasi Fortanhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/877-natasi-fortan/
Samka Derithhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/12345-samka-derith/
Ara Zambranohttp://starwarsrp.net/user/13631-ara-zambrano/
Asharad Graushhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/12408-asharad-graush/

Galactic Alliance
Cathul Thukuhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/12255-cathul-thuku/
Zarkhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/12759-zark/http://starwarsrp.net/user/12759-zark/
Coren Starchaserhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/7046-coren-starchaser/
Taeli Raafhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/5945-taeli-raaf/
Aryn Tethhttp://starwarsrp.net/user/16078-aryn-teth/

Welcome all to the First Order Invasion of Hex L, 49 by Galactic Standard Map designation. The hex is empty, therefore combat and story will primarily happen in space unless otherwise agreed upon by writers and their opponents. Best of luck to both factions and I hope this is a great opportunity to write some awesome stories. Rivalries new or old, green behind the ears when it comes to invasions, or a veteran writer - I hope we all find a way to have fun with this win or lose!

Let's try to keep the salt to a minimum - it'll happen regardless but let's try to remember that there's opportunity for story with any outcome be it short term or long term, action or grand scheme, so don't take it too seriously! If you do find yourself feeling like you've been mistreated by any member of either the First Order or the Galactic Alliance whether IC or OOC, I hope you first try to talk to that person. A lot of times a perceived slight isn't intentional and can be resolved by simply speaking with the person you think wronged you. Secondly, please talk to your faction admins if you feel that the issue can't be resolved by talking to the other writer. We aren't here to resolve every issue for you - so be sure you make an attempt to speak with someone before running to your faction admins. That being said, please do use us as resources as well as mediators should the need arise - we want everyone to enjoy this as much as they can.

Let's go have some fun - if you have any questions, feel free to PM via Board or Discord!

 

[Subject 37]

Location: Spaec
Allies: GA | [member="Shia Kryze"] | [member="Adora Namadi"] | [member="Baiko no Kaho"] | [member="Listralli Namadi"] | [member="Silas Mantis"] | [member="Dorn Skirata"] | [member="Davon Karr"] | [member="Dagon Namadi"]
Enemies: First Order
Ship: Orar

Aryn stood quietly hunched in the back sector of the Orar a stealth ship that had been acquired by the Mandalorian team just hours prior.

The news of a coming war had traveled quickly throughout the Galaxy. Stories of gathering armies and building legions surging through every corner that could be found. The Sith, The First Order, the Empire, all of them were on the move. The news had come swiftly, and with it had risen the interests of the Mandalorian. The commandment had gone out swiftly, and before long the Shukalar had found himself standing aboard the tiny stealth vessel that he now found himself in.

For once he wore his full arm, fur pressed tight by a vacuum proof suit and ears squished inside of his helmet.

He hated wearing this thing.

It was the mark of a true Mandalorian to wear the armor, and Aryn of course did, but the full suit was an uncomfortable circumstance for him. He felt trapped, squished into a space that didn't quite fit him. Oh there was advantages to be sure, but it was still rather uncomfortable for the ten foot tall Togorian. His lips curled back slightly as he caught a whiff of his own scent within the armor, just about the only thing that his nose could actually catch.

A growl pulled passed his lips and he glanced out the window besides him. They were still in hyperspace, but that would change soon. "Prepare."

He had always been a creature of few words, but that was something most liked about him. Everyone aboard this ship were well clear on their mission. They had few numbers, at least compared to what the other factions in this war would bring, but it had always been said that one Mandalorian was worth a hundred of the enemy.

Today they would prove that true.

 

[Shia Kryze]

Location: Space
Allies: GA | [member="Aryn Spar"] | Adora Namadi | Baiko no Kaho | Listralli Namadi |Silas Mantis | Dorn Skirata | Davon Karr | Dagon Namadi
Enemies: First Order
Ship: Orar
Gear: Cin'tracinya - the Silver Flame

Shia looked up from her final check on her new MF-44, then let the bolt slide home with an ominous and shockingly loud clack.

She was really doing this, going to war with the Mandalorian Empire. Everything she had dreamed of as a child. Everything Clan Kryze had given up long ago, but now sought to reclaim through her.

In her head, the click transmuted into the first beat of the most ancient of Mando'ade war songs. She lifted her be'cye and sealed it onto her head on the second major beat of the song, watching as the HUD scrolled into life and began to display ready status messages.

As she did so, she sang - her voice clear and trained to lead such a chant, ancient words she had recently heard directed at her on Mykyr, her free hand drumming out the rhythm on Cin'tracinya's thighplate.

"Taung sa rang broka!"

 

[Davon Karr]

Location: Spaec
Allies: GA | Shia Kryze | Adora Namadi | Baiko no Kaho | Listralli Namadi |Silas Mantis | Dorn Skirata | [member="Aryn Spar"] | Dagon Namadi
Enemies: First Order
Ship: Orar

He had been an important man on two occasions in his life. Decades ago he had led an entire campaign against a Sith host on the borders of mandalorian space and come out victorious. In those days, on the fringes of the dark times, a handful of sith and a few cruisers was a force to be reckoned with. Then he had been brought back to fight in the arena against Ra Viszla in personal combat. Davon had split the man’s calf with his wickedly curved beskad but had not triumphed on the day. In the year that followed they had called him ‘Ramaanar’ and he had led people into war again.

But it was the decades in the middle that he now held onto. Those years when he had done nothing of consequence besides teach several generations of his adopted family the ways of his people. That was why he was here today. Despite the fact that his hands trembled every time he opened and closed them.

When he had returned to Agamar it had not been home any longer. Not the same home that he had shared with his husband. Two weeks ago had been his hundredth birthday, gifted longevity by morellian genes. Davon and Stahl had adopted five children and now he needed a pen and paper to recall how many descendants they had. All had come to celebrate his life, but there had been a sombre air through the day. Just under a year since they had held the same celebration for Stahl and his absence was keenly felt.

Jess sat next to him, Brou on the opposite side of the shuttle. Jess had been with him when he had fought Ra in personal combat. Brou was her younger sister. She was barely past twenty.

If the ageing mandalorian could find no peace in the home he had built, then he would find it out here ensuring the youngest generation of his family could eclipse his own achievements.​

 

[Hansen]

Hex L-49 \\ FIV Dauntless \\ Marauder-class Cruiser​

Faction: First Order \\ Enemy: Galactic Alliance \\ Status: In Realspace, moving ahead @ One-Third​

In Vicinity: [member="Ara Zambrano"] | [member="Brennan Cabrol"] | [member="Elensa Jari"] | [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] | [member="Cyrus Tregessar"] | [member="Asharad Graush"]​

Asturo stands on the bridge of his Marauder-Class Cruiser clad in a suit of personalised Phase II Clone Trooper Armour; normally he would not go to such protective lengths but one fear that preyed upon the Commander was the possibility of Galactic Alliance retaliation. A small security detail of Stormtroopers remain on standby nearby in a local barracks just down the hallway from the Bridge's presently sealed door. Asturo breathes slowly through the Annunciator and fiddles idly at the rank squares upon the white breastplate.

"Comm, have the patrol form into an arrowhead. I want to steadily move us into a Pickett position around the station when it finishes moving into position. Communicate with Commander Mano and see about putting the Sondheimer-class cruisers behind us for protection." Asturo lowers his wrist from in front of the annunciator before confidently folding his hands behind back as the Dauntless leads three Marauder-Class Cruisers, two Sondheimer-Class Cruisers a whole ten Dagger-II Class Frigates and one Hellstorn-Class Carrier into Realspace steadily forming an arrowhead formation on a plane lower than Sieger's flagship and the emerging space station.

Following behind him was Lieutenant Commander Onami his Chiss executive officer holding a datapad while the two stroll pass the Transparisteel viewports. "All crew are at general quarters manning their battlestations Commander Asturo. We're ready for whatever if anything the Galactic Alliance decides to throw at us." Asturo pauses in his haughty waltz pivoting in the direction of the Chiss man and looking towards him from behind a polarised Visor. Gesturing to the ship barely visible above them; A great Resurgent-Class Star Destroyer. "No doubt the crew will have their spirits and resolve bolstered by such a formidable presence" Making a sweeping hand gesture to the above Executioner one must wonder if he referred to the Battlecruiser itself or its imposing staff.

Spoiler: 6th Fleet, Battlegroup Imperator, Dauntless Cruiser Group

Carriers

• FIV Harbinger (Hellstrom-Class Carrier) | Shield Charge: 100% | Hull Integrity: 100% | Firing At: None. | Fighter Status: Ready.

Cruisers

• FIV Dauntless (Marauder-Class Cruiser) | Shield Charge: 100% | Hull Integrity: 100% | Firing At: None. | Fighter Status: Ready.
• FIV Fearless (Marauder-Class Cruiser) | Shield Charge: 100% | Hull Integrity: 100% | Firing At: None. | Fighter Status: Ready.
• FIV Relentless (Marauder-Class Cruiser) | Shield Charge: 100% | Hull Integrity: 100% | Firing At: None. | Fighter Status: Ready.
• FIV Merciless (Marauder-Class Cruiser) | Shield Charge: 100% | Hull Integrity: 100% | Firing At: None. | Fighter Status: Ready.
• FIV Interceptor (Sondheimer II-Class Interdictor) | Shield Charge: 100% | Hull Integrity: 100% | Firing At: None. | Fighter Status: None.
• FIV Arrest (Sondheimer II-Class Interdictor) | Shield Charge: 100% | Hull Integrity: 100% | Firing At: None. | Fighter Status: None.

Frigates

• FIV Stiletto (Dagger-II Class) | Shield Charge: 100% | Hull Integrity: 100% | Firing At: None. | Fighter Status: None.
• FIV Dirk (Dagger-II Class) | Shield Charge: 100% | Hull Integrity: 100% | Firing At: None. | Fighter Status: None.
• FIV Needle (Dagger-II Class) | Shield Charge: 100% | Hull Integrity: 100% | Firing At: None. | Fighter Status: None.
• FIV Pike (Dagger-II Class) | Shield Charge: 100% | Hull Integrity: 100% | Firing At: None. | Fighter Status: None.
• FIV Spear (Dagger-II Class) | Shield Charge: 100% | Hull Integrity: 100% | Firing At: None. | Fighter Status: None.
• FIV Lance (Dagger-II Class) | Shield Charge: 100% | Hull Integrity: 100% | Firing At: None. | Fighter Status: None.
• FIV Cutlass (Dagger-II Class) | Shield Charge: 100% | Hull Integrity: 100% | Firing At: None. | Fighter Status: None.
• FIV Broadsword (Dagger-II Class) | Shield Charge: 100% | Hull Integrity: 100% | Firing At: None. | Fighter Status: None.
• FIV Staff (Dagger-II Class) | Shield Charge: 100% | Hull Integrity: 100% | Firing At: None. | Fighter Status: None.
• FIV Dagger (Dagger-II Class) | Shield Charge: 100% | Hull Integrity: 100% | Firing At: None. | Fighter Status: None.

[member="Sieger Ren"] [member="Aryn Spar"] [member="Shia Kryze"] [member="Davon Karr"]

 

[Silas Mantis]

Location: The Inky Black Abyss
Allies: GA | [member="Davon Karr"] | [member="Shia Kryze"] | [member="Aryn Spar"] | Rest of Mando Squad who I will tag in later posts
Enemies: The First Order
Ship: Orar

Silas closed the last latch of his chestplate, locking the beskar into place over a black vacuum suit that covered every inch of his body, bionic or not. Peering around the compartment, the warrior said a silent prayer that his nephews would not be among the ranks of the enemy on this day. Family had killed family enough in recent days.

As he slid the buy'ce over his head, no words escaped his lips, even as the Kryze girl broke into a chant. Silas had fought in plenty of battles, but he'd only fought one war. That changed today, and now it would no longer be other Mandalorians at the end of his weapon. A welcome change he supposed. Scooping up his own MF-44, he primed the weapon, letting the clack echo off the walls as the girl's had moments earlier.

The shotgun completed his ensemble of weapons. In addition to the Westar-35 on his hip and small armory on either wrist, Little Wolf was nestled snugly in its sheath, then there was his arm itself. The set up had served him flawlessly against the fiercest warriors in The Liberator's army, it'd do just fine now. In place of the blade he'd gifted his son, another weapon rested in the small of his back, something he'd pushed not to use for the longest time.

But pride, and his selfish desperation to set himself apart had no place in Mantis' life now. He took up his family tradition with pride, and the tomahawk he now carried was hungry for the blood of the enemy.

 

[Asharad Graush]

​

​

​

Hex L-49 // FIV Crimson Dawn // Imperial-X Star Destroyer
Faction: First Order // Enemy: The Galactic Alliance // Status: En-Route: Hyperspace
Notable PCs: [member="Therran Graush"], [member="The Major"]

And so it began.

The Crimson Dawn had launched from orbit above Dosuun, last minute plans being tied in to his future. War was on the horizon once again, and the Supreme Commander sought to herald in many more victories in not just the name of the First Order, but his own. Infamous, he was, within the First Order. One of the youngest Officers in the Order, and one of the youngest still to have achieved the rank of Supreme Commander. The Navy, the Army, the Auxiliary, an addition that he had personally overseen being added to the ever growing Imperial military, all of them led by men and women older than him.

Now they took orders from him.

The bright blue and white lines of hyperspace remained stretched out as they neared their target designation.

But it wasn't enough.

He served the Order, but that wasn't a name he sought to be remembered by.

A'sharad Graush, Lord of the Sith, Bent to the First Order.

Golden orbs glowed brightly through the helmet he bore as he realized they should've been coming out of hyperspace soon.

"Therran," he said as he rose from the command chair, a momentary inclination of his head to his favoured Captain, Atrisha, before he was moving down the Command Deck. "Meet me within the Hangar. Our mission differs today," he says. Once the armoured Sith Lord got to the end of the corridor, as he was entering the lift, he was joined by a squad of Vanguard war droids. A mere few of the host that would be deploying with the Supreme Commander. Some elements of the Forsworn Legion were present as well.

There was another on board that the Supreme Commander didn't know, though she was a relatively high ranked member of the Security Bureau. This knowledge happened to be the extent of his own intelligence on the one dubbed as '[member="The Major"].' Though, his only concern was for if she could take orders from a superior or not. Stepping out of the lift, before he could take more than two steps out, the Crimson Dawn transitioning to realspace, coming to a stop on the edge of the Imperial formation that was fanning out. Within the hangar bay were an assortment of vehicles, weapons, troopers of Forsworn and droids alike.

The hangar bay doors were slowly opening up, the shields that preserved atmosphere protecting them as both droids and troopers alike began to form up.

That was where he went, his cousin should be there already he imagined, along with that spook attache.

 

[Sal Katarn]

Space,
ANS Karfeddion's Tears

"All hands to battle stations. Repeat. All hands to battle stations."

Klaxons blared and red lights flashed within the corridors of the Alliance escort cruiser, waking sleeping sailors and sending those already on duty scrambling, hearts pounding. Inside the barracks for the SpaceOps Marines, Raph Thule and the others kitted up while their CO conducted a swift briefing.

"A short time ago our long range scanners detected a large number of vessels coming from First Order space. We have good intel that this will be the first blow in a new offensive push by the Order."

"Fascist scum," muttered the marine standing next to Raph as he slipped into his body armor.

"K.T. is already en route to meet them. We will be among the first Alliance ships to respond. We believe their flagship will be present. High command sent down the word. We're going in to take it or break it."

There was silence for a moment, then a chorus of grunts. They all knew what this entailed.

"A long time ago they called the soldiers first into the breach the Forlorn Hope. That's us. Not going to try and hop you up with any more motivational B.S., but you all know how important this mission is. We value individualism, but the strength of the First Order is in their leadership and unwavering devotion to duty. Cut off the head of the snake and the body will die. Alright, let's get to those shuttles."

Thule frowned at the words, a sickening feeling in his stomach. He turned back and glanced at the holo on the bulkhead next to his bunk. It showed his family's lakeside home on Naboo. He wondered if he'd ever get to see those shores again.

Gritting his teeth, Raph slid his helmet over his head, picked up his sonic carbine, and went to war.

[member="Sieger Ren"]

 

[Aeshi Tillian]

Hydian Way Hyperspace
Galactic Alliance
It's the family's business
-----------------------------------

Aeshi frowned at the cards that she held in her hand. Four aces, all the way through, which was the winning hand. Not that she could let her opponent that. The tall feathered avian sat across from her at the small dining table aboard the StarDream. This was their thirtieth hand of cards and while being a Warden of the Sky should have given her an advantage, it was far too difficult to read her companion's avian features. Her own face by comparison was an open book to the tall Imyn.

"Last call," Aeshi added after a moment, holding still in her seat. Her companion considered for a moment and then nodded, pushing a stack of rich chocolates into the center of the table. They made Aeshi's mouth water at the sight. She hadn't had one of those in ages, let alone had the spare credits available to pay for them. The young woman slid her own wager into the pot, some small credit chips.

Then they laid the cards down. Aeshi thought she had a sense of satisfaction in his piercing eyes, but that quickly vanished when Aeshi revealed her four aces. There were two more aces in the other's hand as well.

Their eyes squinted at each other.

"Still can't catch you," Aeshi said at last, leaning back in the chair. "You'll have to show me how you pull that off."

"Aye, captain," the large bird responded, crossing his arms behind his head. "Once you have a hint of how I pull it off. Then I'll teach you. Not before!"

Aeshi shrugged and set her boots on top of the table, moving aside the cards.

"Very well. I'll keep trying."

 

[Baiko no Kaho]

Location: Spaec
Allies: GA | [member="Shia Kryze"] | [member="Adora Namadi"] | [member="Listralli Namadi"] | [member="Silas Mantis"] | [member="Dorn Skirata"] | [member="Davon Karr"] | [member="Dagon Namadi"] | [member="Aryn Spar"]
Enemies: First Order
Ship: Orar

The Kiffar-Echani hybrid hissed out a breath in her borrowed Clan Skin. Her shoulder bumped with [member="Silas Mantis"], glad for now that her charge [member="Yasha Mantis"] was safe elsewhere. The girl didn’t need to see her prim and proper governess on this day.

This was not the day for prim, proper and polite behaviour. The Atrisian had her katana strapped to her side, and yet she held something far more precious for the coming fight.

Slicer gear. The so-called Little Rekr had to learn from someone, and the woman beside Silas was such an engineer and technologist. As [member="Shia Kryze"] sang, the Echani in Baiko gritted her teeth. These people… for Yasha’s sake, for the wish and memory of [member="Aditya Mantis"], Baiko would learn to love their ways.

She needed say nothing when [member="Aryn Spar"] ordered them to prepare. Baiko brought her HUD and slicer systems to life, curling and uncurling her fingers in the crush gaunt and gauntlet she wore. Battle. Invasion and war.

These were known to her. Dozens of times over she'd fought for her homeland and her peoples. She would serve.

 

[Zef Halo]

​

L-49 HEX
FIV CRIMSON DAWN
GEAR: LIGHTSABER : FO-SF MK I ARMOR
ALLIES: FIRST ORDER
ENEMIES: GALACTIC ALLIANCE


Therran had heeded his cousin's words and followed him to the hangar bay of the star destroyer where eager men and women prepared. Men and women fiercely loyal to Asharad Graush. Through the Force, he could feel their passion and zealotry.

As the troopers moved into formation and the hangar bay doors slid open, three Storm Commandos clad in armor similiar to his, the difference being the engraved symbol of House Graush on his left shoulder pad. With them, they carried Therran's helmet.

"Sir." The commando offered the helmet to Graush and he silently took it, clipping it on his belt.

The Sith then turned to his cousin questioningly.

"What has changed?" He referred to Asharad's earlier words on the bridge.

[member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="The Major"]​

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Location: Sullust (convoy)/Tantra (main battlefleet) -> L-49
Allies: GA [member="Jyoti Nooran"] [member="Zark"] [member="Gir Quee"] [member="Aryn Teth"] [member="Zanza Hijikata"] [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Sko'saht"]
Enemies: FO
Objective: Deliver medical supplies to Skor
Music: SFC2 Romulan battle start

"Our convoy has departed Sullust towards Skor, laden with medical supplies, food and other necessities the Squibs need to rebuild their homeworld" Tanith reported in.

"It's entirely possible we're walking right into a trap; we're still awaiting a response from our other units stationed along the possible routes taken by the convoy, which lead the convoy either towards Dagobah or towards the Metharian Nebula" the communications officer of the Excubitor reported in.

"Then again, Therapist Actual, we know only the endpoints, and not the route, for security reasons. Outside of the convoy itself, " Amica chimed in, from the CIC of the Velga.

"Should the convoy get under attack, we shall jump to the site of the attack, at the double! That said, we are awaiting the response from our southern garrisons"

Skor has undoubtedly suffered a lot in the past years: the casualties were so numerous, and the damage so extensive that the Alliance was still busy attempting to repair the damage, to provide for those Squibs that have suffered so much, that she had no choice but to launch a convoy to deliver supplies until the planet's reconstruction efforts were finally over. She wondered whether all the other forces in the southern systems are positioned as they should be, but with rumors of their enemies being on the move, regardless of who these enemies were, she had to be cautious of what's going on. With six squadrons and about 2.3km, the convoy of freighters of various sizes, loaded with medical supplies, food, construction materials and other necessities, would be escorted, as is now routine for relief missions of that nature; however, convoy ambushes may sometimes use much more force than that. Rumors of enemies being on the move forced the southern systems to be on high alert, but they will soon find out whether or not they were substantiated. As is now part of standard equipment in areas where they could expect battle, fighters assigned to convoy duty were outfitted with Genie cluster missiles, of which their ordnance bay could only hold two apiece.

"Roger, Therapist Actual!"

With that said, there might be some hope for the Squibs. Meanwhile, the Excubitor, supported by two brand-new Providence-X carrier/destroyers, was in position over Tantra on standby, if their Alliance brethren was to join battle against the First Order. Cathul began to feel as if the enemy was out for her so she hoped that she could be able to fight them off, if it came to that; for now, however, all that she could do was to hope that the convoy would safely arrive. If there was any impediment, it would be met by swift retribution. Be it by her or by supporting elements; however, if past battles between the two factions were any indication, Skor especially, she would be tying up the main enemy forces while supporting elements would face limited enemy fire, attacking without fear. Then again perhaps this engagement could prove different, so protecting the freedom of trade and travel will likely involve her firing at whatever entity would stand in their way. They had a number of possible destinations in mind along either possible trajectory... and she prayed that her trust in Ms. Neerwinden wasn't misplaced, or else the Ming Po captain wouldn't last long as the commanding officer of the Velga. So she opened a channel to the Alliance High Command, access to which was usually reserved to the admiralty, to flag-level officers:

"Open a channel to High Command"

"Channel open" the communications officer acknowledged.

"To all units south of Sullust, this is Therapist Actual: red alert!" she told the others on the encrypted command channel, hoping that [member="Zark"], [member="Aryn Teth"], [member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Alexandra Morrow"], [member="Lily Kuhn"] and the other Alliance naval fixtures would heed the alert and be ready to fight back any incursion in the southern systems, regardless of where it would occur.

Spoiler: Convoy escort

Capital ships:

ANS Metellos (Metellos-class frigate carrier) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
ANS Third Variable (C-9980-class assault frigate) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
ANS Causal Claim (C-9980-class assault frigate) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
ANS Double Counting (C-9980-class assault frigate) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
ANS Skor (Skor-class monitor frigate) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
ANS Polis Massa (Skor-class monitor frigate) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
S-1 (Spirit-class picket corvette) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
S-2 (Spirit-class picket corvette) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
S-3 (Spirit-class picket corvette) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
S-4 (Spirit-class picket corvette) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
S-5 (Spirit-class picket corvette) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
S-6 (Spirit-class picket corvette) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
S-7 (Spirit-class picket corvette) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
S-8 (Spirit-class picket corvette) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A

Attack craft:

48 Chiloon-I fighters
24 Chiloon-II fast bombers

Spoiler: Main battle line

Capital ships:
ANS Excubitor (Procurator-X-class Grand Battlecruiser) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
ANS Velga (Providence-X-class carrier/destroyer) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
ANS Lujo (Providence-X-class carrier/destroyer) | Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A

Attack craft:

144 Chiloon-I fighters
84 Chiloon-II fast bombers

 

[Roth Tillian]

"No!" Roth exclaimed, throwing his hands into the air. "I did not say to overhaul the converter!" The droid in front of him beeped angrily and gestured emphatically at the disassembled starfighter in front of him. "I said to calibrate the converters!"

The man ran a hand through his hair and shook his head. The rest of the Wild Knights squadron had begun to trickle into the hangar, laughter hidden beneath their serious facades. It didn't fool him though. He'd been a Jensaarai for long enough that he could tell when people were laughing on the inside. It sent ripples through the Force. Not that he could keep from laughing softly to himself either.

It was embarrassing for a Commanding Officer's ship to be not functioning outside of battle, especially when it was from his own droid.

"Got a problem, Roth? Break one of your ships?" That was one of the technicians.

"Yeah," Roth shot back. "You brought your prodigious weight too close and made the a-grav too strong!" Laughter echoed through the hangar at the witty remark.

"No worries," the tech replied, jerking a thumb behind him. "Your new ships just arrived now that you passed the tests."

The pilots all spun on their heel and watched as the new ships were wheeled in and set alongside the hangar.

"Beauties," Roth breathed, stepping towards them, and running his hands along their hull. "Oh, we'll have some fun with these babies."

 

[The Major]

Life is but a dream. . .​

The temporary quarters of the cantankerous officer was bereft of any resplendent trinkets or banners -which one expected from the rather stylish Security Bureau representative. Emotionless, expressionless cold walls served as the meager tomb -the dehumanizing steel, plastic, and glowing glass further compounded the morbid creep of finality. An unused bed accrued motes. A gray table did little to break the monotony of the situation. All looked hopeless. All indicators pointed to sudden death. Only such defeatism was not a part of the Major’s resolute character. Even if the rumbles and bounces of the deck gave her knees something to shake over -it would not dissuade her. Nor would the prospect of being sucked out into the freezing vacuum into a silent, suffocating death be enough thwart the determination of the First Order. It was a new kind of sensation -a tingling sense of barely controlled panic that boiled within her chest as the frenzy built upon itself. The will of so many would soon be put to the ultimate test.

The form fitting body glove zippered up to conceal the pale skin of the Fallanassi as she clicked her tongue repeatedly to keep from trembling in conditioned air lowered to a temperature simulating a mortuary. That tall, strong body now began to take the expected shape as armor plates were strapped on and tightened to a snug fit. Impressed by the fine engineering of the Order superior scientists, the dauntless four-eyed freak secured the Kutsayakir Necklace just under the collar and hidden from prying eyes. She chanted internally:

….Woe betide those who fall to my hands today….​

Twin gauntlets squeezed tightly as focus and clarity removed any remaining doubts from her mind. Now came on a magnificent red cape, colored to resemble the mighty standard of her great nation, colored to the hue of sweet crimson, like the blood she was ready to shed on behalf of her adopted masters and benefactors. Finally, the helmet snapped into place with a hiss as pressurized clamps did their work. Securing a leather holster slung low on the hips, the Major toyed with the hammer of a revolver. Staring deadpan with eyes aided by contact lenses into a mirror, she drew iron, expelled breath, sighted, and pulled on the trigger in a snap motion that blurred with machine, practiced efficiency.

!Click-click-click-click-click-click!​

Hex L-49 // FIV Crimson Dawn // Imperial-X Star Destroyer // Prearranged Mustering Point​

Faction: First Order // Enemy: The Galactic Alliance // Status: En-Route: Hyperspace​

The Major didn’t look out of place canned up in shadowtrooper armor, or equipped with the new G-11 blaster rifle hanging in her right black gloved hand. Seeing her operation commander disembark from a lift, the Station Chief presented herself to him, clicked her boots, and executed a precision salute with a raised fist clenched in the air. Under the helmet, she was grinning expectantly.

“Reporting in as ordered and ready, Commander.” Regardless of the facial covering, one could almost hear the sound of the strange huntress licking her lips. She fell into line as the cousins began to chit-chat regarding the details of the mission.

[member="Therran Graush"] | [member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="Dako Asturo"] | [member="Sieger Ren"] | [member="Yidhra"]​

 

[LT-137]

Location: Enroute to L-49.
Primary Objective(s): Board the Excubitor and Assassinate Admiral Cathul Thuku.
Secondary Objective(s): Unknown.
Allies: The First Order, The Golden Company.
Enemies: The Galactic Alliance, [member="Cathul Thuku"].
Equipment: See Thyrsian Sun Guards NPC Entry.
Complement: Two Phaethon-Class Assault Transport's, Fourty Thysian Sun Guards (One Legion.)

​

With his gauntleted fingers pressed against his lips, Khonsu’s eyes narrowed into singular points as they watched the dancing hololithic image before him. While the transport bore no dedicated projector, the Sun Guard had elected to deploy a smaller variant, one which now bathed the interior of their dropship in the bright sapphire hewn light. He watched in silence, despite the chaotic tumult of preparation that erupted around his person, never once allowing his mind to stray from his prey. His men were hired for the sole purpose of slaying a single thorn in the Order’s side, one that had defied all attempts on her life, and had escaped unharmed from every battle with the Imperial war machine. They were set to complete an impossible task, that may very well end their lengthy and distinguished careers. For all intents and purposes, they were being paid to risk it all. Though his mind was honing itself to a knife’s edge, the Sun Guard allowed himself this moment to relish the thought of being a pawn in another’s game, and felt his lips peeling back into a melancholic smirk.

“At least we’re in for a damn good payday,” One of the Sun Guards, who had seen his Tribune’s distant look, had said as his hands busied themselves with slotting dozens of ferromagnetic quarrels into a cartridge. The man’s words had drawn Khonsu from his detached stare, forcing the Tribune to blink thrice, before turning back towards the rotating pirouette of azure light. “Ten million credits,” Another stated, as he palmed a nearby terminal which retracted his low hanging bunk, and was swiftly replaced by the man’s violent accoutrements. “Who knew that a single head was worth such a bounty.” Others chuckled nearby, but the jovial gesture lacked emotion. It was, if anything, the chuckling chorus of the damned. As the laughter died and was once again replaced by the sound of warriors preparing for their doom, the Tribune’s fingers began manipulating the swirling image of empty space. In a heartbeat, the image dematerialized in a pixelated shower of dimly lit sparks and was replaced soon after with the rotating image of their target’s last known command.

It was a Procurator-X class, as their records - kindly bequeathed by the First Order - had detailed. The vessel was by all rights... impressive, Khonsu begrudgingly admitted. Though, such an admission was made more out of jealousy, than a technical marvel. He silently wished that his Legion, and perhaps Company thereafter, would’ve been able to captain a vessel that large, with a vast array of weapons to boot. How easily their marks would fall before them, the Thyrsian mused. Stowing the errant thought with a simple gesture, one that had exploded the image outwards and enlarged the projection, Khonsu began viewing the battlecruiser in earnest. “Damn,” A Stellar Legionnaire had said as the image engulfed the aft compartment. “I’m surprised that the Alliance is fielding Star Destroyers. I never thought I’d see the day when the Alliance would stoop so low to steal an iconic Imperial aesthetic.” Without tearing his gaze away from the manipulated image, Khonsu berated his subordinate in the Thyrsian tongue, a sound that was almost akin to that of rushing water, smashing against a fallen stone. The dark-skinned mercenary apologized and returned to silently sharpening his combat knife.

“When the Order hired us on Bespin, they knew that when this spark would begin hostilities anew,” The Tribune began, having smoothly transitioned over to basic for the benefit of those situated within the aft compartment. “They knew that they would need every able-bodied soldier to fight against the fractured, and smouldering corpse of the Alliance. They know the dangers of a fire that has yet to be drenched, and how a single spark could reignite the blase. That’s why they called us. Why they sought us out and sent along two of their finest to ensure the job’s done.” Not missing a beat, Khonsu’s gauntleted fingers swept towards the two Agents within the room, ensuring that his Legionaries took in their details and committed them to memory. Though there were safeguards installed within their armour to prevent such grisly fates, it never hurt to have such recollections burned into one’s grey matter - so that if some trickery were to occur - they would have something to fall back on.

So no-one ended up shooting an ally by mistake.

“Our mission is to ensure that these two individuals are safely escorted to an enemy command ship, should the vessel make it’s expected appearance.” Manipulating the image once more, allowing it to collapse in upon itself and rotate in relative peace within the centre of the room, Khonsu continued. “It’s highly unlikely that the Alliance has us listed as hostile within their IFF database, which will allow us to approach with relative ease. However, it’s more than likely that we will be targeted as soon as we arrive on station. Thanks to our friends in the Order, we now know that the Alliance employs some of the best telepaths and prognosticators in the galaxy.” Upon seeing several of his company cast confused glances in his direction, the Sun Guard sighed. “For those of you too stupid to know what a prognosticator is, it’s some shifty bloke who can see the future. Meaning they’ll most likely know what our next move is before we even make it.”

Some of the Sun Guard’s laughed, and one seemingly took offence to the question of his intelligence but knew better to keep his trap shut. When the moment had passed, Khonsu returned to the hololithic projection. “Should our employers within the Security Bureau be correct, if and when the Excubitor arrives on station, we will make our move. As our foe has elected to adopt the Imperial style, we’ll approach the vessel from behind and skirt across its hull. I know, several of you are thinking ‘why not fly down the trenches?’ well, let me lay those idle fantasies to rest. The Procurator’s teeming with trench weaponry even our Company’s most gifted pilot can’t weave through. It’s suicide for even a Jedi pilot.” Several groans erupted all around the Tribune, which was suddenly cut short when the image changed once again. “When we make our break for the ventral surface, we’ll smash our way into the primary hangar bay, and take the ship thereafter.”

As the image started to flicker and fade, Khonsu withdrew from the projector and snatched his shimmering flaxen helm from a nearby arming rack. “From there? You will follow your Centurions into battle and deal with anything that comes your way. Do so as a Cohort, and you will see this day through. Hell, might even be a few hundred thousand credits richer too.” Casting his dark, hooded eyes towards the two Imperial agents in the distance, Khonsu couldn’t help but smile. With the dull sapphire light catching the breastplate of his golden armour and brightening the room momentarily, the Sun Guard couldn’t help but take his earlier advice and drank into the details of his newfound comrades. While he held little respect for anyone that had yet to fight upon the same ground as him, the Tribune knew that these two had seen much in their lives. It was evident in the way they prepared themselves for what was to come. When a moment of silence had passed, no doubt drawing their attention his way, the Sun Guard cleared his throat and opened the floor to his guests.

“Agent Ravel, you mentioned something about a caveat to our contract back on Cloud City. Care to elaborate for my legionaries?”

[member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="Connor Harrison"]​

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

#TeamAlliance
Location: Space, the final frontier...
Supporting: None in direct action (Galactic Alliance in general)
Opponents: None in direct action (First Order in general)

STAR DESTROYER INTERVENTIONhttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/92483-intervention/​

in orbit of the planet Elrood​

The boy stood amid a field of stars.

While the day-to-day business of navigating the star destroyer was handled from the port side bridge tower, the starboard bridge tower -- once used to coordinate debarkation control and de-conflict fields of fire with the starfighter contingent -- now served as the private executive suite of the company's wanderlust prone president. Brilliant holographic false color renderings, supplied by the ship's stellar cartography suite, filled the room with a variety of star charts and diagrams.

For the last three years, Corellia Digital had been working on developing infrastructure out in the Kathol Sector. Now it was starting to widen the aperture. The adjacent Elrood and Sluis Sectors were largely empty. Smuggler routes and spacer trails existed, more so by word of mouth. So Corellia Digital had undertaken the task of beginning to subspace map the area, in order to look for places where they could maximize telecommunications coverage while improving the efficiency with which shipping moved across the southern approaches of the Galactic Alliance and the western frontiers of the Outer Rim Coalition.

With the Rimma Trade Route running straight through it, Elrood had become something of a staging area for the company's corporate fleet, though the work that Jast was doing on Ardalon might cause him to shift things a little further south. The Intervention, Epistellar Jovian, and Callisto were all in orbit of the planet off-loading stores and taking on new parts and equipment that came and departed in various directions through the network of freighters that traveled like ants up and down the hyperlanes between Corellia, the Kathol Outback, and the Tingel Arm.

The Epistellar Jovian had just completed a sensor map of a star nursery that seemed to be giving birth to a new binary pulsar. The tow-headed boy was awash in the glow of the holographic rendering of the data when the chime had echoed overhead. A swipe of his finger across the wristlink he wore connected him to the ship-wide comlink. "Yes?"

"Pardon the interruption, sir. Priority transmission from Drall."

The problem with being a telecomm was that getting away from the corporate boardroom was never quite far away enough.

With a wave of one hand, the child minimized the image of the emerging pulsar. A gesture of his other hand and a window-like hologram appeared with an Aurabesh keypad floating in mid-air. Inputting his pin, the window shrank and, a moment later, the image of a woman appeared. The holographic rendering of Corellia Digital's senior vice president was life-sized. No sooner had she appeared than the boy remarked, "I take it the board meeting didn't go well?"

"That's next week. Today was just the initial planning review to firm up the agenda."

A meeting to discuss the next meeting. Efficiency, thy name is bureaucracy... "I hope you're not calling for suggestions," the young Anzat deadpanned simply.

"Only if you're taking them. And by 'them' I mean, next time you leave Drall, take [member="Marque"] with you."

That brought a smile to the child's round face. "I take it he has another idea," the boy opined with a wry grin.

He shouldn't be so flippant. Sure, Marque had a World of Build-a-Bear Knights or Endormon Go stupid-successful idea now and again. But they were not all winners. And, for the size of the R&D budget... that Zeltron spy cost them an arm and a leg.

"Indeed. He's requested a supply of Lommite crystals. The best source is the planet Dorvalla."

Dorvalla..? The name drop immediately sent the boy to open a new holographic window, this one scrolling through a database of known worlds. Aisha could see what he was doing, and probably had anticipated the dive into a galactic atlas, as the woman continued.

"It's a world in the Videnda Sector. I could dispatch a ship from here, but..."

Punching up a diagram of the Dorvalla System, the boy zoomed out to examine the known navigational pathways in or out of the system. "No, it makes more sense to dispatch one from here," he remarked, which was probably what she'd expected given the call. "I'll take care of it." Already calling up a manifest of available ships and crews, as the boy sorted for a good match, he casually asked, "Who's negotiating the acquisition?"

"Marque... regrettably."

The boy's head came up. He blinked. Then a second time. Then slapped a hand up over his face. "Ugh. He's going to pay face value, isn't he?"

Marque was good for many things. Slicing government computer systems? That's why Sor-Jan had hired him. Coming up with hairbrained ideas that were questionably feasible but possibly crazy enough to work? Absolutely. Staying within budgetary constraints... not so much, no.

"If we're lucky."

"This better not be another quagmark..." the boy uttered, returning to the list of ships and crews. After another moment, he paused and said, "I've got a Jast 2 available, but the staff are on crew's rest."

Hire union, they said. Support the working class, they said. Collective bargaining makes labor negotiation easier, they said.

Yeah, and then they negotiate a fethin' eighteen hour crew rest on you.

Those clone brigades during the Clone Wars would have liked an eighteen hour crew rest... "Wait, I've got a Jast 1 crew that's coming off crew's rest, however. I'll have them hull swap and get them out to Dorvalla." Making the entry into the computer, the boy minimized the window and then looked back up at the lifesize hologram of the older woman. "Anything else?"

"We're still re-negotiating the dental plan. The whole contract's in dispute over noncompliance with the agreed upon billing. I think we're going to have to cut our losses and re-bid the contract."

The child just blinked. Raising one finger, his mouth fell open as he started to speak. Then, stopping himself, took a moment to compose his thoughts as he tried to read-back what he'd understood her day to be like. "So, meetings to discuss what should be discussed at the meeting... followed by contracts and acquisitions... followed by non-compliance disputes?"

The holographic woman gave a weary nod.

"I think you just reminded me why you're there and I'm here."

JASThttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/107742-jast-2-freighter/ MEDIUM FREIGHTERhttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/107742-jast-2-freighter/​

DURANGO​

"...so I said to Tim and... Oh! Get this. You won't believe this fethin' chit."

Jim Palmer settled into the co-pilot seat of the Durango. After coming up from Exocron in the cramped confines of a Jast 1 cockpit, sitting in a Jast 2 felt like upgrading to first class. Eighteen hours down on Elrood in a hotel room though? Chit was like going to fethin' Vegas. While the pilot rambled on, Jim threw a headset on and said, "Flight control, flight control, flight control. This is..."

Chit. What was their callsign again? The last one had been Delta Vega... something something something Dark Side. Digging through the glove compartment, he found the flimsiplast sheet he was looking for and read the designation. "...Coyote-Two-Nine. Repeat, this is Coyote-Two-Nine, outbound for Dorvalla. Request clearance to depart."

"So, Tim was talking to Dena. You know? The Rutian Twi'lek in finance with the freakin' chest like to here," Paul was saying, with the absolutely obligatory gesture to help illustrate the questionably relevant point of the precise dimensions of that particular part of Dena's anatomical structure. "I swear to Ugly Baby Palpatine, she was wearin' this white thing the other day and it was like, the hills are alive, man!"

"Acknowledged, Coyote-Two-Nine. Please proceed out on heading two-one-one mark four until clear of all vessels, then you are free to manuever."

Jim reached up to toggle the comlink. "Coyote-Two-Nine. Roger. Out."

Paul turned his head and belched loudly, clearing his throat before he looked over at Jim and asked, "Where we going again? Dorvalla?"

Pulling up a datapad, Jim sketched out a quick flightpath and passed it over for review. "Yeah, take us up the Rimma Trade Route to Sullust, then just drop back."

Paul started shaking his head. "Nah, man. Nah. Are you kidding?" With his finger, Paul swiped upward and then across. "Run up the Sluis Sector to the Hydian Way and then it's a fethin' straight karkin' shot, man. Half the time, brah."

Leaning back in his seat, Paul reached over to pull the release on the docking clamp and started easing the freighter away from the orbital berth. "So anyway, Tim was talkin' to Dena. And she said, get this, she was talkin' to her boss and he said the karkin' board was voting to kill our dental coverage."

"What?"

"I know, right!" Paul exclaimed, as he guided the freighter out from under the shadow of the Old Republic star destroyer. "And I just put braces on my kid? Feth this, man. We get back from this, I'm doin' it. I'm callin' that MandalTech recruiter back." Pausing a moment, Paul leaning forward as he peered down and checked his instruments. "We good on your side?"

"Board's green."

Reaching forward, Paul pulled back on the hyperdrive and the ship leapt to lightspeed.

Next stop: Hydian Way.

 

[Bryce Bantam]

#Teamalliance (like [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] said!)​

Location: Hyperspace, Hydian "Highway" (L-49) in “Zero” Charon-Class Corvette​

Primary mission: Survive the capture of Halron​

Allies: [member="Halron Corr"] (friend-a-me)​

Dance partners: [member="Ara Zambrano"] | [member="Brennan Cabrol"]​

​

Awesome 80’s invasion mix

Now some folks think that being a Judge of the Coalition is awesome. You visit new and exciting places, get to carry legendary guns, help keep folks safe, and meet tons of new people, but there are some major drawback many folks tend to gloss over. Where Bryce is having the trouble is that meeting new folks thing…

As Bryce flies through the air, his elevation thanks to a new acquaintance, this simple truth runs through his head shorty before it bounces off the smooth bulkheads of his personal ship. Not all people are nice, polite or even respectful of the law. Some, like [member="Halron Corr"] , care little for such things and would rather break your back than shake your hand.

“Look, one way or another your coming with me. The whole blow up a first order star destroyer is getting out of hand.” Bryce said as he staggered back to his feet.

Bryce had been ordered to bring Halron in for questioning after his plan of terror had been revealed on a recent public address he had made on GA space. This is were Bryce had tracked him to. Where he had caught up to him. In an area of GA space called L-49, a critical point between the heart of the alliance and its destabilized southern territories. An area ripe for insurrection, or blockade….

 

[Atsushi Ono]

Location: I-49 Staring down an invasion fleet and wondering "Do I really need the credits?"
Post: Shriek-Hawk NPCs

Shriek-Hawks​

A warning.

I-49 was a quiet sector of Alliance Space, relatively. Most of the traffic was from the small worlds and merchants as they made their way up and down the Hydian way. Sometimes though, pirates would make the empty space their hunting grounds, and so it was one of the many places Task Force Departure patrolled throughout Alliance Space. They had been there when the GA first laid roots on Sullust and had been patrolling GA space ever since, aiding in small conflicts and helping GA authorities keep they hyperlanes as safe as they could.

Which was why three TU5K-class corvettes dropped out of hyperspace as the First Order began to spread out and set up a perimeter around what looked like a space station. They had been notified of suspicious activity. Locals thought it was some new pirate gang coming in to set up shop. The Shriek-Hawk mercenaries of Task Force Departure and Vornskr Team were no where near as prepared as they thought they had been. Mel cursed under her breath.

"Get that useless Dorn on the com...we've got trouble...For now we wait to engage, notify Alliance command. This looks to be the beginning of a war."

​

Location: I-49, staring down an invasion fleet
Enemies: First Order
Allies: GA, Shriek-Hawk Mercs, Mandalorians

Dorn paced the bridge of the Pygmy-class battleship as they barreled through hyperspace. Even before he had gotten the message from the Mando'ade of Task Force Departure he had been notified by the Mandalorian Empire. War was coming to the GA. Already he had been told a small group of Mandalorians had been dispatched and lay in wait. The Mandalore's information network seemed to rival that of Dorn's predecessor, Gil Skirata. Luckily he wouldn't be heading into whatever this was alone.

The Tgiase Asalaramir dropped out of hyperspace alongside the pocket carrier of the old Mandalorian Clans navy. While its design might have been old and even dangerous, it was able to field many more starfighters than modern ships of its class, putting them in a better position than one might think.

"Prep the fighters and ready my droid. I'm heading out there myself." What kind of Mandalorian leader would he be if he sat in a chair in the far back? A shuttle had delivered Mel to the command ship of the small task force and she had already taken a seat, propping her foot up on an unlucky astromech droid. Smoke slipped from her lips.

"Right right, get out there and show us how big of a man you are." It was no secret that she hated him for killing Gil, but she was a competent leader and the credits weren't bad. "I'll take it from here. The Alliance should be here shortly."

Spoiler

Allies: [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] [member="Roth Tillian"] [member="Cathul Thuku"] [member="Silas Mantis"] [member="Davon Karr"] [member="Aryn Spar"] [member="Shia Kryze"]
Enemies:[member="Khonsu Amon"] [member="The Major"] [member="Therran Graush"] [member="Asharad Graush"] [member="Sieger Ren"]

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

​

​

Location: Hyperspace, en route to L-49.
Primary Objective: Board Excubitor and assassinate Cathul Thuku.
Secondary Objective: Capture Galactic Alliance officers, disable Excubitor.
Allies: First Order, The Golden Company, [member="Khonsu Amon"]
Enemies: Galactic Alliance, [member="Cathul Thuku"]
Equipment: See signature + G-11F

As [member="Khonsu Amon"] briefed his Sun Guards, Emilia Ravel, newly promoted Bureau Chief of the First Order Security Bureau, was sitting at the back of transport, in a row of empty seats. She sat with her head in her hands, lost in thought, but also trying her best to listen to the briefing of their hired gun. Despite her best efforts, she found her thoughts continually drifting back to the gargantuan task that this small unit faced. The Excubitor was an intimidating vessel boasting serious defenses both inside and out. It was not going to be easy to get inside, let alone to fight their way to the Admiral. She was nervous, more so than she'd ever been. But, along with her anxiety, there was another feeling. It was a strange sense of faith, that she and the TGC would perform their duty, and be hailed as heroes of the Order.

Her musings were cut short by the merc leader, requesting she talk to his Guards. She nodded quickly, rising to her feet and taking her place at the projector. Steadying a shaking hand, Emilia placed her datapad into a slot on the device, standing back as a projection of the L-49 hex appeared in front of them. She cleared her throat, casting a nervous glance over the rough-and-tumble bunch. "Okay..." She said, sucking in a deep breath. "As you know, our first and most important objective when we land is to eliminate the Admiral, when we land, we'll take the full force of the Guards and make a beeline for the bridge. Once the Admiral has been dealt with, we'll move on to our secondary objectives, which are to capture any Galactic Alliance officers for FOSB interrogation, and finally to sabotage Excubitor on our way out. Any damage we can deal to the ship will give the advantage to the First Order Navy. Think of it as cutting the head off of the snake."

Emilia paused, she'd talk so long and fast that she'd forgotten to breath, she stopped and steadied her breathing, slowing her heart-rate, and clenching a fist behind her back. She mustn't show weaknesses, she was supposed to be a leader. Turning her attention back to the crew, she continued her briefing. "Okay, so, according to my current intel, there has been no response from the Alliance as of yet, but I think its safe to say they're on their way. We'll be arriving behind the first group of ISDs, and meeting up with the Security Bureau's stealth corvette, the FIV Tortuga. The Tortuga is operating SIGINT, and will feed us information as to the exact arrival time and location of the Excubitor. Once its in the system, we'll get inside and begin our op." Emilia folded her hands in front of her, and nodded briskly, taking her datapad from its slot on the projector and attaching it to her wrist. She stepped aside, looking at Khonsu as she moved back to her seat. "How long until we arrive?" She asked.

Opening a crate next to her chair, Emilia began to sort her gear, first taking off her uniform and donning the pieces that made up the FO-X1 infiltration armour. Putting on the dark helmet, Emilia flexed her fingers, impressed by how formidable she looked in the black armour. Next she reached into the crate, removing her G-11F rifle, and C-51 pistol, stowing the rifle on a magnetic clip on her shoulder, and the pistol in a holster on her thigh, next to a short, hefty baton for close quarters. She stood up, raising a hand to hold on to one of the many straps hanging from ceiling, ready for their reversion into the sector.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Hex L-49 \\ FIV Concordia
Faction: First Order \\ Enemy: Galactic Alliance \\ Status: En Route, Hyperspace
In Vicinity: [member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Jaius Sovv"]

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=sV8PHQvt5pI

It had been ages since Natasi Fortan was aboard the FIV Concordia, and longer still since she had stood on its command bridge in the thick of battle. Some of her most triumphant moments had been experienced on this bridge -- from the Omega crisis, when her competency as a military leader had been established, to Kaeshana, where moral leadership was reaffirmed in the face of the Galactic Alliance's butchery. To Kaeshana, again, as she arrived in splendor and pomp to put pen to paper in ending the bloody conflict. Postponing -- a more accurate term, perhaps, but she hadn't known it at the time. The thought gave her pause, made her stomach hurt to think of the part she had played in what was unfolding today -- worse than during the first war. She had not wanted or pursued the conflict with the Galactic Alliance, but after Kaeshana it had been impossible to avoid.

This re-opening of conflict, on the other hand.... Well, this was another story. But let it never be said that Natasi Fortan was disloyal. She stood on the bridge, shoulders square, back straight, looking for all the world a confident military commander, giving nothing but the impression of full support of the Supreme Leader. Only inside, where no one could see, did the Grand Moff allow herself to acknowledge the truth.

Natasi Fortan was a fraud.

No one in the First Order would admit it. There was very much a view among the new guard of the military establishment -- and even those in her own cabinet -- that the lion ought not to be concerned with the opinions of the sheep. The First Order was undoubtedly the lion; the rest of the galaxy, by definition, the sheep. But Natasi was a realist, enough to know that the First Order would not swallow the galaxy whole, enough to know that at some point the fighting would need to end -- really end -- and they would need credibility and gravitas and the ability to have their word as their bond in order to govern.

Enough to know that any credibility to govern they once had was about as strong and stable as the Kaeshana Accords, now in figurative ashes at the hands of [member="Sieger Ren"].

Natasi's mind turned over the events of the last several weeks as she watched the mottle of hyperspace out the main viewport. What did it mean? She had been authorized to treat with the Alliance by the Supreme Leader himself. She had put herself on the line -- not just as the Grand Moff but as a representative of the people of the First Order, the mother of the nation. She had shook hands with [member="Jaius Sovv"], signed her name next to his on the document ending the war. They would not believe that Natasi had no knowledge of the impending plans for war -- even if Natasi had claimed it, which would have been disastrous in itself. They would not trust Natasi in another round of peacetalks. No, Natasi mused as the timer in the heads-up display counted down inexorably towards zero, she would not be representing the First Order at the peace table again, a fact that has chilling implications no matter what the reason was.

The best-case scenario was that Natasi would not be invited to form a government for the next term, that someone else -- probably Dante Calgar -- would be Grand Moff. The Supreme Leader had hinted as much last year when renewing her term. There was some element of ruthlessness that was missing in Natasi that the Supreme Leader thought would benefit a leader of a galactic power. It would be disastrous for Natasi -- likely meaning that she was dead, imprisoned, or disgraced -- but preferable to the only other likely scenario that she could see.

Eternal war, unending and bloody, plunging the galaxy into a dark hopelessness not seen since the very darkest of the plague years -- except this time, not the result of a mindless infection, but instead of man against man.

Natasi shivered, the first crack in her motionless and emotionless exterior, and glanced to one side to see Senior Captain Carrak regarding her curiously. "Ten seconds, Your Excellency," said the Senior Captain.

"I can count," Natasi muttered to herself. She made no other reply until the ship emerged from hyperspace. Work on the interdiction had already begun; all was going according to Sieger Ren's plan. She had to give the man that much; his planning was meticulous. It made her ruminations on his plans for the future of the First Order -- and the galaxy -- and her place in it all the more chilling. She turned her head to the Senior Captain. "You have the bridge, Senior Captain. Be sure that our Ren friend has everything she needs and alert me in the observation deck if I am needed," said Natasi, referring to [member="Samka Derith"], whose abilities would be on display today.

"Aye, ma'am," said the Senior Captain. He stepped forward, began issuing orders as Natasi entered the turbolift.

A few moments later, she was entering the vast, empty observation lounge. Usually a center for socializing of the ship's senior officers while underway, for the combat operation it had been abandoned, leaving only two occupants; Natasi herself, and her guest, charge, and insurance policy, President [member="Jaius Sovv"]. The Sullustan had surrendered to First Order custody after the Kaeshana Accords, accepting responsibility for the destruction of the FIS Kuragin and agreeing to stand trial for it. Natasi had planned all along to see him convicted, but returned to the Galactic Alliance with his head still firmly attached to his body, aboard a diplomatic shuttle and not in a flag-draped coffin. It would have been a PR coup for the First Order, given lie to the notion that they were bloodthirsty murderers.

Natasi's plans, unlike [member="Sieger Ren"]'s, had a way of being brushed to one side. She didn't have the luxury of being an absolute monarch, after all. Now, Sovv was a guest -- really, a prisoner -- of the First Order. The theory was that if the enemies of the Order knew one of their own was aboard, it might make it unlikely that they would destroy the ship -- which, in turn, would provide some level of safety to the Concordia and its Sith Meditation Sphere, which would allow the Ren Master Samka Derith to amplify her already-considerable battle meditation skills in support of the First Order's efforts. Natasi, who had not been necessarily needed for the operation, had insisted on a matter of principle to accompany Sovv. She felt responsible for his safety.

She wouldn't admit to anyone that she was beginning to like the strange-looking, beedy-eyed creature. She waved the door open and entered the luxuriously appointed room and waited to hear the door lock behind her before proceeding. The cavernous had been swept for bugs and reinforced for battle, and stocked with food, drinks, and other entertainments should the two galactic leaders need a distraction. There was no harm in allowing Sovv to view the battle; he could not communicate to his friends, nor could he overhear anything said on the bridge. For the moment, it seemed, the two -- Sullustan and Galidraani -- were purely ornamental. "May I offer you a drink?" Natasi asked as she descended the wide stairs into the main lounge area, her voice amplified by the empty space. "In moments like these, I usually find a G&T rather hits the spot." She crossed to the bar and began fixing herself a drink, prepared to make Sovv whatever he requested.

Natasi was a highly intelligent woman -- enough to recognize the trait in someone else, so she knew that Sovv would understand what he was doing there. She hoped that he would understand what she was doing there. She strolled over to him, drinks in hand, and looked around; the luxuriously appointed room, more brightly colored than one would expect on an Imperial warship, seemed impossibly large with only the two of them. "Strange to see it so empty," Natasi said, feeling somewhat awkward. "Shall we?" she gestured to a table with two comfortable armchairs and took a seat in the one facing the door.