Baby, Make me Sick | First Order Dominion of Ketal Hex

[Shattered_Mirror]

Command Deck // FIV "Eidolon" // Resurgent II Class Battlecruiser.
Ketal System, Outer System Edges, Border with the First Order.

​

Though the world of Ketal was insignificant in the grand scheme of things, it was situated in a critical juncture of space along the political border with the Galactic Alliance that the First Order could not afford to lose. With their enemy’s newfound preference on causing unrest within the local populace, the Security Bureau had elected to bring the system in through less compliant means. There would be no grandstanding, nor display of force that would scare the locals into believing that the Order’s intentions on their world were nothing but benevolent. Though it was apparent there was more to this operation than met the eye, Astarii’s observers weren’t so willing to part with the information needed to see what lay beyond the veil of secrets.

No matter how hard she tried to coax them into spilling the beans, they remained as tight-lipped as ever, which had made things entertaining at first - but quickly soured after several attempts.

Instead, the Admiral had forcibly found her jollies in overseeing the deployment of several proximity stations and early warning sensors along the border. While the Security Bureau had managed to disguise these deep-space arrays as communication satellites and relays, it wouldn’t do anyone any good if they were shot out of a battlecruiser - rather than the appropriate civilian craft.

So, she sat in the heart of her ready room with a datapad in hand, scouring over the various reports that required her attention. There was a steaming cup of herbal-blended tea that she had supposed to have been nursing, but it had long since gone cold as her attention was solely focused on the scrolling feed of data. When Astarii had finished reading through the operational details, and the various attachment files, she casually tossed the crystalline device onto the table and thumbed her eyes. She had grown tired of waiting, and her mind needed something to do.

Things were different when she was stationed on the Ssi-Ruuvi front, and now? To be so close to yet another oh so familiar foe? It tested her patience. Nevertheless, she had her orders, and if she wished to keep her post - and her life thereafter - Astarii would have to find a way to abide the wishes of Central Command, whilst the operatives on the ground completed their mission.

| [member="The Major"] |​

 

[Samka Derith]

Post 3​

Location: Defector Shanty Town​

Objective: Somebodys poisoned the waterhole​

​

"I-I'm fleeing, like the rest of them," Samka admitted to the Doctor. "I didn't want a target on my head, I played innocent but yes I was with the First Order but I just... I couldn't do it any more. They took me from my home and made me do horrible things, Nelbo. Horrible things," she shivered, repressing a thousand terrible thoughts. "So... I got out. Then I came here to help the people the First Order has hurt the most, people like me. I'm... sorry I couldn't tell you the truth."

There was a long stony silence between the Doctor and the Undercover Ren.

"Please say something," her voice finally croaked, breaking the silence.

"<< I want to believe you. >>" The Ithorian sighed. "<< But your people are skilled agents and they're skilled liars so I can't be sure. >>"

"I'm unarmed," Samka gestured with open palms and then began patting herself down for good measure.

"<< When someone has been trained so well in the Dark Side, they don't need to be armed, >>" Nelbo responded. The man was no fool.

"Then... where do we stand?" The girl asked tentatively, her brain plotting a half dozen ways to murder the Doctor as they spoke.

"<< For now, help me cure these people," the Ithorian replied. "<< Then I'll see where you stand. >>"

Samka smiled back at him, relieved at being offered the chance to prove herself. There were no clues on the surface of the depravity inside.

 

[The Major]

Ketal,
Back inside a ship near the outpost,
Dusk
[member="Malcolm Denwich"] | [member="Luther Ando"] | [member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Samka Derith"]

"Traitors all over the Order, eh, Nillks?" The man curled his lips out of disgust for the tone. So happily presented; so giddy. It wasn't right. Not because the organization did not have darker things lurking about its tenure. One could say it was all in a day's work when dealing with the authoritarian group. It's just that none of this made sense. This woman couldn't be the same person he had spoken to just a few weeks ago. Rumors of the Purge had persisted and permeated in the Security Bureau, and Nillks new quite a few people had been incarcerated, wounded, and even executed.

Being capable of some form of insight, the agent was able to piece together that whatever exactly happened on their nation's capital, something had left his boss acting... off. Where was the style? The restraint? The illusive sense of calm? He couldn't even bring himself to look over to a person that just until a month ago he would have loved to get to know better. Now? The somewhat effeminate man could not wait to get away from this job.

"You might turn eventually, won't you?" She cooed. And Nillks could hear the Major smiling behind his back. Scared to the point of witless, numbful indifference, he threw caution to the wind. . .

"Wouldn't be a problem, Sir. I suppose you'd be right there waiting to tear me into pieces."

"A bold statement. Do I detect insubordination?"

"Detect away, Sir. Surmise away, Sir. Lash out all you need to, Sir. In the end it's not going to help whatever the Hell it is you're feeling."

"..."

"..."

"..................."

Sigh. "Major, what are the orders now?"

"..... y-yes. Now that the outpost is silenced, Commander Derith's target will have no quarter or warning to enable escape. They're doomed."

"Wonderful. Shall we report then?"

"No. Let's.... just watch awhile."

"Sir, do you want a towel?"

"Whatever for?" Again a smile spread on her blood caked mouth.

Nillks, still busy at his station, rolled his eyes. It was going to be long night with these Halloween styled antics.

 

[Luther Lewis]

Location: Ketal - Medical Frigate.
Equipment: Concealed Hold-out blaster.
Objective: Prepare to enter the city centre.
[member="The Major"] | [member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Malcolm Denwich"] | [member="Varas Kyrel"]

​

The man opened the gate and approached Luther on the porch. The man looked the part of a farmer, but a trained eye could notice subtle differences. The man had a weather-beaten face, like he had spent a long time in the sun, working on the fields. But farmers rarely had a nose so mangled, it had clearly been broken multiple times and not set back properly. Farmers usually have a soft body that belied hard muscle underneath; yet this man had not an inch of body fat. He walked like a predator, ready to spring with every step. Luther shook his hand, noticing that the calluses were all in the wrong places. This man had beeing holding the hilt of a blaster all his life, not a shovel.

"How can I help you mister...?" Luther asked. "Sheriff Callaghan” The man replied cheerily. “A pleasure to meet you Mister Matare" Luther raised an eyebrow, prompting a laugh from the sheriff. "Don't look so surprised, I looked up your details from when you bought the land. You got a pretty good deal from Old Man Rodgers, god rest his soul". Luther invited the man in, and Callaghan accepted gratefully. "Blasted sun never lets up" he added, sitting down at Luther's table. "Sorry about the mess, Sheriff, I didn't expect visitors" the sheriff gave a nonchalant 'it's fine' wave and grinned as Luther pulled a bottle of bourbon from under the kitchen counter. "Ahhhh a man after my own heart" Callaghan said appreciatively. Luther poured them both a drink and joined the older man at the table.

"So, how can I help you, sir" Luther asked. The sheriff didn't answer immediately, instead taking a long swig of his drink. "I just like to check in with the new folk, see how their settling" he replied. He fixed Luther a steady stare. "I also want to make sure said newcomers don't go stirring trouble in my district" the man didn't break his stare. "I pride myself on being able to understand a man from sight alone". The sheriff paused, and Luther did his best not to squirm or swallow. The man chuckled and looked away. Luther resisted a sudden urge to ask what he saw. Instead he asked: "Would you do me a favour, Sheriff?" It was Callaghan's time to raise his eyebrow. "See, I don't know the area so well" Luther continued. "I was wondering if you could show me around?" The sheriff seemed to consider it for a moment before saying: "Alright fella, sounds good. I was going to tell you places to avoid, but I might as well show you them.” He finished his drink with a satisfying sigh. “Every city has nasty folk, and I don't wanna see the newest resident fall prey to such rascals". The man tightened his belt and stood up. Making for the door he added: "Go tell your farm-hand or whatever that you are leaving, I'll wait out front".

Luther quickly briefed one of the agents posing as farming assistant. The man frowned as Luther explained but eventually conceded that it was a good lead and agreed to watch the property. Luther walked out his front door and took a seat in the officer's old speeder. He looked back at the farmhouse, slowly getting smaller, and tried to fight the feeling like he was sinking slowly into a cold, murky depth.

 

[Samka Derith]

Post 4​

Location: Defector Shanty town​

Objective: Somebodys poisoned the waterhole​

A hammering noise at the door broke the mood of the hospital shack.

"Doctor? Are you there?!" A man shouted, his fist continuing to knock frantically at the door.

Nelbo hobbled over to the doorway to let the man in. A rough looking, bearded man staggered through the doorway holding another figure over his shoulder. "Somethings up with him, Doc! I don't know what to do!"

" << Pull him over to the bed, let me take a look at him. >> " The doctor grunted and then nodded at Samka. This was an opportunity to prove herself.

She ran over to the bed before the injured man was lowered onto it, there she straightened the mattress, fluffed the pillow and then assisted the man in lowering his friend to the bed. She earned a small nod of acknowledgement from the man but nothing more. Samka looked over at the approaching doctor who had been gathering his tools.

"This is my buddy, Hotchen, he got into a fight with some First Order thug. He got a broken nose but nothing we're not used to. I splashed a little water in his face to make him come around and since then he just... he screamed non-stop."

Samka looked at Hotchen's face, the man had passed out but there were strange purple lines around his eyes. "Doctor..." she pointed them out as the Ithorian approached.

The Ithorian grunted and began his examination. Samka had her own suspicions on the cause. The water she'd already poisoned... what if that went into someone's eyes? Would that cause the effects in question? It was certainly a blow to subtlety if so but that was why they experimented. A test run to improve future results.

There were a few moments of anxious waiting as Nelbo examined his patient. Samka took it upon herself to investigate by asking the one who had carried Hotchen here a few questions.

"What's your name? How did you get here?" She asked, her voice was meek but relaxing. A calm bedside manner to distract the man from his pained friend.

"Huh? Oh I'm Tefer, I served with the Galactic Alliance Marines until Thyferra. A lot of unforgivable things happened that day so I took my buddy Hotch here and heard we might be able to make something of ourselves. That was a lie," he scoffed. "This place is a mess but we got nowhere else to go. The Alliance will be looking for defectors and I... I can't face that. Call me a coward but that's how it is."

She hadn't asked for the man's life story but there it was. She smiled reassuringly at Tefer, "We're doing our best to make this a better place to live, Doctor Nelbo and I. I hope we can help you."

"I hope so too," he mumbled back, his gaze fixated back on on his unconscious friend.

"Can you tell us exactly what happened? Anything could help," she gently prompted the man.

"Got into a fight with a couple of former Stormtroopers, a pair of thugs acting like they ran the camp. We saw them off but Hotch here got a beating, blood all over his face. I just... I took some water from the well, poured it over his face and he screamed so loud that I... I never heard anything like it."

Tefer paled all of a sudden. "The-the well. That's supposed to be drinking water..." without another word the former marine dashed out of the tent.

"Wait, Tefer!" Samka made to follow but glanced at the Doctor for permission.

" << Go. >> " He grunted, " << If it's as bad as it sounds, you'll do more good there than here. >> "

Samka nodded, "I'll be right back!"

And with that, she headed to the well she'd poisoned.

[member="Luther Ando"] | [member="The Major"] | [member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Malcolm Denwich"]​

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Location: Ketal outskirts​

Objective: Investigate Research facility​

Post 1​

​

Kyrel had never heard of Ketal before, for all he had cared it was nothing more than a planet ripe to be brought under the heel of the First Order. And still he knew what the First Order would be doing, they would be cleansing the world of its sins through plague, and then rebirthing it anew. The strong would survive and the weak would perish and in the end, those that did survive would become First Imperials, part of a glorious new order that is destined to rule the Galaxy. He had pondered this slowly to himself as he entered the planet's atmosphere within his TIE Silencer. His mission was simple to investigate a research facility on the world, rumor has it that they were experimenting with the Black Wing Virus that had emerged from the Red Nebula years ago. Spies had managed to recover a final transmission several days ago before the facility went dark.​

​

"Hello... Can anyone hear us? Oh god... They are coming through the doors... No please grab anything to barricade the door. What have I done.." Those were the final words uttered in a garbled transmission before it had disintegrated to cries and screams of pain. He couldn't help but feel excitement coursing through his veins. Perhaps it was because of the enemies he would face, or maybe of what he would find down there. He saw the facility in his sights, descending slowly onto a landing pad he had activated the TIE's landing cycle.​

​

Stepping out of the hatch slowly, he had walked cautiously towards the entrance, feeling dread creep up on him. Ready to face the unknown.​

 

[Armand Temi]

Inner Rim \\ Ketal \\ Waterpoint Alpha​

Callsign Roughneck \\ Operation Well Water​

Phase II | Delivery​

Four days. Realistically, a human could only live without water for four days give or take a day. In fact at this very moment, Varas herself was losing ounces of water within the microscopic droplets she exhaled after each deep breath. Therefore the sense of desperation grew around her, an ambient pressure that if they did not get the well fixed soon, there might be a riot within the populace.

She was miles away thinking about things like this when Malcolm started asking personal questions.

When Varas opened her mouth to answer, the man had already refocused his attention on the well.

“You comin’?”

Afraid of appearing as some kind of idiot savant, she relaxed more into her posture and strode beside him, answering, “Yeah. And I just got to the planet. First time on this rock, actually. The name is Varas.”

Kicking up dust with her boots in a way that was oddly satisfying she asked, “How about you? What’s your story?”

[member="Malcolm Denwich"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Inner Rim \\ Ketal \\ Waterpoint Alpha​

Callsign Roughneck \\ Operation Well Water​

Phase III | Observation​

​

Their footsteps took them along a winding path, weaving between tents and metal storage containers refit into living spaces. During the day it was hot as sin, at night, well below freezing. Right now? Malcolm could use a drink. Lucky for the pair, he'd been sure to store up some water before delivering their package. Anyone caught drinking from the well now... well, it wouldn't be pretty. Pretty wasn't the adjective Malcolm would have used to describe his work, in fact it was quite the opposite. It was why he'd had the the unofficial catchphrase, Semper Malgus. Everything was ugly sooner or later, better to embrace it than deny it.

"Varas huh. Malcolm." he said, pressing a thumb against his chest as they walked. "You look thirsty. Here." Reaching into his coat, he removed a small flask from the inner pocket. "It's a bit brackish, but it'll wet your whistle. It's just water. Clean water." How he wished it was something more, but in this heat, drinking alcohol was nearly a death sentence. "I joined the agency just before the war kicked up again. Figured why waste talent when I could be making some money, hopefully make a difference in this meaningless void of a galaxy. Life is ugly, but if you can deal with the ugly, nothing phases you anymore." He wasn't exactly sure where he was going with that, his mind wandered as his feet progressed forward. Absentmindedly he held out the flask of water towards the woman, Malcolm had almost forgotten he was holding it.

[member="Varas Kyrel"] ​

​

​

 

[LT-137]

Inner Rim // Ketal // Waterpoint Beta,​

The Golden Company // Operation Well Water,​

Phase IV: Distribution​

​

​

With his winged helm hanging from his belt, Khonsu found himself dropping to a knee before some nameless child with his taloned hand outstretched. His dark lips were curled into an uncharacteristic smile, one that reeked of pleasantries and warmth, as he held out his palm for the youngling to inspect. Within his uncoiled grasp, there lay a ration bar, with it’s packaging unwrapped - putting the protein out on display. She stared at the processed ingot with hungry eyes, rimmed with puffy crimson. “Go on,” the Stellar Tribune uttered once again. “It might not taste so great, but it’ll keep your stomach full until mealtime.” The child was taught well, he remarked, as she stood there - swinging her body from left to right. She wouldn’t take it from him, which sparked the thought of eating it all there in front of her - showing her an act of cruelty that would force open the waterworks and ruin the entire operation.

However, the Order had paid him for his compassion, and doing something like that to a child wasn’t acceptable behaviour; especially when the mission parameters were to act as a protection detail for this medical centre and show these people the benevolence of their neighbouring Imperials.

Though the Thyrsian couldn’t have known when she had eaten last, the man had guessed that she was apart of the newest wave of occupants to take residence within the medical centre. Which meant that it probably had been some time since she had eaten last, as he didn’t see her - or anyone that remotely resembled her - gathered within the makeshift mess hall. While the next meal being dished out several hours from now, it was likely that she would end up having to deal with her gurgling stomach and all the discomfort that it brought. When he had gestured once more, Khonsu decided to switch his tactics, as it was clear that the more he pushed, the more she buried her frightened face into her stuffed bear.

“My name is Khonsu,” the Sun Guard said, after letting out a small sigh of frustration. “What’s your name?”

The child stood there in silence for a moment; her once transfixed gaze moving from the ration within the strange man’s hand towards his contrasting, pearlescent eyes. The child slowly pulled her face out from behind the bear she embraced, and just as he was expecting her to answer him, she buried her face even further into the comfort offered by her toy. While he would have usually been annoyed at her stubborn refusal, Khonsu had to remember that others were watching. That whatever he chose to do next would be judged by the myriad families that surrounded him.

“Tell you what,” He said, before reaching up with his unburdened hand and broke the ration bar in two. “I’ll give you a piece, and have made one for your bear too so that you can share it.”

| [member="The Major"] |​

 

[Shattered_Mirror]

Command Deck // FIV "Eidolon" // Resurgent II Class Battlecruiser.
Ketal System, Outer System Edges, Border with the First Order.

​

With the last update period having come and gone, the Admiral had found herself bored once again. She had gone through everything that their undercover construction units had transmitted, making sure that no detail was missed. From what she had read, several of the installations had been making good progress, along with many of the disguised facilities already reporting their active and ready status. It would take some time until the next report had come in, as she had doubted that much would happen within the next few hours, but that left her with a lot of spare time on her hand. What was an Imperial Admiral to do?

As she had already scoured the technical blueprints of the Resurgent and had fully understood the combat capabilities of her vessel, there was nothing for her to keep her busy. The databanks had contained some exciting nonsense, at first, but when she had tried to dive deeper and deeper - she had been interrupted by her Security Bureau handlers.

It seemed that despite everything she had done there were files that the First Order had not wanted her to see. That was fine. She knew that her prior service to the Alliance would cause some strife with Central Command and that she would have to earn their trust. While she had believed that the efforts on the Ssi-Ruuvi front had been more than enough to sate their desire for compliance, it seemed there was still some doubt in her new superior’s eyes. It was of little issue, of course, as Astarii would do whatever they had asked of her like the good soldier she was. She was just grateful that they had given her command of a battlecruiser, and they had recognized her tactical acumen. It was always a good feeling to have all of your hard work praised, even by one’s former rivals.

Thus, to busy her mind and keep her senses sharp while she awaited updates from her handlers, the Admiral chose to wander the halls of her assigned battlecruiser and toyed with the ideas of how to make this vessel better.

| [member="The Major"] |​

 

[Progflaw99]

Inner Rim \\ Ketal System \\ Outskirts
Command Deck \\ FIV Eidolon \\ Primary Weapons Console
Lieutenant Mattox, Liana E. \\ FIrst Order Naval Officer

Lieutenant Mattox's eyes scanned the console again briefly. She knew nothing had changed since the last time she'd looked but out of habit she checked anyway. She'd certainly seen more exciting posts, but she was just another cog in the machine - at least for now. She'd been re-assigned to the FIV Eidolon under the command of an Admiral Saren. Liana hadn't been able to dig up much back story on the woman but in truth, her past wasn't what was important. At present, she had other concerns - like watching a mostly inactive tactical display. The Lieutenant rolled her eyes. She really shouldn't have been complaining, this is what she had asked for wasn't it? Hurry up and wait, rinse, repeat. Even so, she couldn't help but feel the boredom begin to settle in. Their objective wasn't a combat one, instead the Eidolon and supporting vessels had been tasked with the deployment of an early warning grid as subtly as possible across the system. On the border of First Order and Galactic Alliance space, she understood the importance of their mission despite its lackluster appeal. With a sigh, Liana's fingers glided across the console as she initiated yet another weapons diagnostic.

An array of multi-coloured lights flashed across the display as the scans began, indicating various parameters and results accordingly. Moments later they flashed a singular green. *Yep, just like before.* Almost by reflex, Liana sighed, eyes tracking towards the front of the command bridge. She could just see over the edge of the command trench out into the starry void beyond. *Nothing out there. Fitting I guess, not terribly unlike in here.* The young Lieutenant's thoughts were interrupted, an audible chirp coming from a console farther along the trench, a voice raised.

:: Admiral Saren, we're getting a priority transmission from Fleet Command. Your eyes only. ::

*Now that's interesting.* If it had been a routine adjustment to orders, it would have come via text, not priority comm. *Maybe this assignment won't be quite as much a bore as I'd thought.*

[member="Astarii Saren"] | [member="The Major"]​

 

[Darth Athora]

Money was money, but Azula was expecting something a bit more adrenaline pumping than guard duty for the First Order when the Golden Company was hired by them. She did not question her superiors, though. Only did as she was told. She was getting paid, that's all she really cared about. She started up a conversation with one of her comrades to help pass the time. "How long have you been in the company?" she asked, her helmet blocking her visage.

"Been about 3 months for me. You?" he replied, placing the butt of his rifle in the dirt.

"About a week. Still new around here. Do we normally get jobs like this? Not that I'm complaining or anything, but I was expecting a bit more guns blazing and body counts rising when I set out to be a mercenary."

He laughed. "Job's a job. Sometimes we get paid to fight in someone else's war and sometimes we're just there to look tough and scare away anyone the employer doesn't like. You know?"

"Yeah, I guess. I'm Azula, by the way." she added.

"Marco. Marco Fulsato. Nice to meet you, sister." he replied.

"You too...brother." she replied, slightly hesitant to call the man brother but eventually let it out. She hadn't thought of her comrades as family, but she was open to the notion.

[member="Khonsu Amon"] | [member="The Major"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

Inner Rim \\ Ketal \\ Waterpoint Alpha​

Callsign Roughneck \\ Operation Well Water​

Phase III | Observation​

​

Perhaps no fault of her own, the woman shadowing Malcolm didn't seem interested in continuing conversation. He couldn't really say he blamed her, Malcolm wasn't exactly well practiced when it came to conversation - at least not verbally. When and if he communicated, it more often than not involved fists or a weapon of some sort. Unfortunately for him, that wasn't today's method. No, now that the package had been delivered, they were set to observe from a remote location, somewhere where they wouldn't be in the thick of it. Malcolm knew by the lack of details they were giving him, whatever they'd just dropped into that well was expected to have widespread effects, and not the good kind.

*Clink*

Immediately the Agent's footsteps came to a halt, eyes narrowing as he tried to determine the origin of the sound. It had been quiet, almost lost in the ambient noise of tents fluttering in the wind. But he'd heard it. "Hold on. Stay close." he whispered, motioning towards a small gap between the tents. *Is it possible the contaigion has already spread this far out? Certainly not..." It sent a chill down his spine. If it had spread this far already... For their sake he hoped it hadn't.

[member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="The Major"]​

 

[LT-137]

Inner Rim // Ketal // Waterpoint Beta,​

The Golden Company // Operation Well Water,​

Phase IV: Distribution​

​

​

​

When the child scampered off with her bear, and pieces of the broken ration bar hanging from her cheerful lips, Khonsu’s gaze flickered towards his mercenaries and watched with shrouded eyes as they interacted with one another. With the losses the Golden Company had sustained in fighting the Order’s war against the Galactic Alliance, those that held the Tribune’s leash had seen fit to saddle his Legion with new and prospective faces.

It seemed that his Legate, the man he was supposedly being groomed to replace, believed that under his care, these greenhorns would make excellent Sun Guard’s when the time was right.

He knew how tedious these assignments were. He knew that they were easy credits too. However, it was a job that needed doing, and as the First Order didn’t want to deploy legions of stormtroopers to the planet - their rough and tumble outfit must’ve been just what the Doctor’s ordered.

As he started to feel the fingers of banality burrow into his mind, Khonsu roused himself from the dirty alabaster floor and crowned himself with his winged helmet. Once the pneumatic hiss echoed within the sealed environment, the Tribune haphazardly marched towards the conversing mercenaries.

“So,” He began, allowing his natural voice to be cloaked in the monotonous tone of his armour’s vocabulator. “You two interested in patrolling the perimeter with me?”

| [member="Karnage"] | [member="The Major"] |​

 

[Shattered_Mirror]

Command Deck // FIV "Eidolon" // Resurgent II Class Battlecruiser.
Ketal System, Outer System Edges, Border with the First Order.

​

​

It was almost impeccable, Astarii thought to herself as the message was relayed throughout the ship, that as soon as she had left the command deck - there would be something new and exciting to call her back. Letting out a slithering sigh of frustration, the Admiral keyed in her command code which forced the turbolift to a crawl, before returning to its nominal speed and the bridge after that. When the doors had parted, she dropped her arm that had been previously rubbing the bridge of her nose and neglected to return her gaze towards the datapad. Instead, the Hapan fixed her hawkish gaze on her Security Bureau handlers that had publicly stationed themselves outside her ready room. She had little doubt in her mind that while these men and women were readily available, there were other agents implanted amongst her crew. Agents, who not only excelled at their duties, as Astarii demanded the best of the best, but were able to hide in plain sight - and report her actions back to their superiors without her notice. Not that she had anything to hide, but it did make things slightly more difficult when she wanted to bond with her crew; something about trust?

As the door to her ready room had retracted with a hiss of pneumatic pressure, her mind cleared itself of her errant thoughts. Whatever contents this transmission contained were evidently significant enough to warrant her attention - and her attention alone. So, with her mind regaining its orderly state, she palmed the terminal on her desk and watched as the flickering silhouette of Grand Admiral Trask materialized before her very eyes. There was a pulsating rune that blinked at the base of the projector, a symbol that the channel was secure through various encryption schemes and genuine. After exchanging the pleasantries one would expect between an officer and his subordinate, Astarii had taken her seat and listened as her new orders were relayed.

“Our elements on the ground have reported their successes in the distribution of the vaccine and cure to the infected populace. However, there are those that don’t see eye to eye with our benevolence.” That was to be expected, Astarii thought, as some people would see through the distribution of the vaccine, or draw wild conclusions about some impossible conspiracy. “I want you and the Eidolon to move into and establish a quarantine zone across the system. Make sure that you’re careful in how you handle this, Admiral, the Order cannot afford any mistakes in this endeavour. If they do not return to Ketal and are not given the cure, then they pose a danger to any planet they flee to - see that they don’t make it past your vessel.”

Astarii nodded. “I understand. I’ll see that Central Command’s will is carried out. Is there anything else, sir?”

The projection shook his head, all before wishing her luck and terminating the transmission. Left in the darkness of her ready room, the Admiral found herself pondering on how to enact his order with the greatest care. She couldn’t very well charge into the system and scare the populace, as that would ruin the Order’s efforts on the ground. She had to think of another way and had to think fast. After several moments had passed, and the lights of her ready room returned to normal, Astari made for the bridge.

It was there she stood, with her hands folded behind her back, that she addressed the command crew - which in turn allowed for her voice to be projected throughout the entirety of the battlecruiser.

“If I may have your attention,” the Admiral began. “I know that I am a new face to many of you and that one of our first assignments is... for lack of a better term, entirely tedious and a waste of such talented individuals. However, it seems that Central Command has relayed new parameters to our mission here at Ketal.” While her gaze had passed on from one person to the next, Astarii’s hawkish eyes settled upon a mousy woman, crowned by crimson locks, and nestled within the command trench. She was seated before one of the many weapons consoles, and by the looks of things, had been previously running diagnostic after diagnostic to keep herself entertained. Drinking in the details of this newest officer and offering an encouraging nod, the Admiral carried on with her dissemination, before repeating the gesture to every officer within the trench.

“The Eidolon is to establish a quarantine zone around the outer system edges. It’s very likely that we will encounter craft fleeing the planet’s surface, and the Order cannot risk this pathogen escaping - especially when the vaccine and cure are readily available. I want our Pilots scrambled and in the black as soon as humanly possible. I want our weapons charged and tracking any possible targets. Our orders are to scare them back to Ketal so they can be cured, or stop them by any means necessary.”

She paused for a moment and returned her piercing stare to the young, crimson-crowned Lieutenant manning her station.

“Is that understood?”

| [member="Sirsarun"] | [member="The Major"] |​

 

[Alkor Centaris]

XXXX base, Ketal
Terminate Defectors
Post I​

A cadre of dark armored Stormtroopers preceded him under the cover of darkness. He watched his HUD as they ran a topographical scan of the area and laid over the heat signatures relayed from orbit. Contrary to the silence that the area maintained, it was obvious the area was on high alert. "Sir," one of the Shadowtroopers called across the closed comm, "the target has set up a perimeter. Advise?"

"Advance on my signal," Corporal Anak replied simply. "We have strict orders from Central Command. There are elements not compliant with our operations on Ketal, and they must not be allowed to mount any resistance. This is the joint forces command center, and so, it is paramount that we neutralize the threat here first. Anyone who escapes us, won't escape the Quarantine zone they are currently establishing in orbit."

Alkor snorted in his helmet. "Kill a few people who don't agree with you, and people learn to stop disagreeing," he drawled, the nonchalance of his voice drowned by a mechanical monotone. "Standard in and out," he stated as he lifted his hand and brought up an exact replica of the tactical readouts in their HUD. He dragged a finger across in pattern, and as he pressed against heat signatures, they shifted from red to blue.

"With respect, sir," Anak hissed, "the situation is a bit more severe than that.

"Keep telling yourself that," the Corellian Exile waved him off. "I have an understanding with the Order," he explained. "I don't care about how you choose to handle these things. If people need to be killed, I will kill them. Greater good or not."

Anak shifted his communicator channel over and hailed the Eidolon. ([member="Astarii Saren"] ) "This Merc you sent with us," he began. "Are you sure about him?" He watched the darkly armored Dark Jedi as he pushed through the crowd of footsoldiers, eagerly awaiting orders, and he leveled his DMR toward the first of many heat signatures. "He seems..."

Alkor glanced back over his shoulder toward Anak. "Where's my mark, Corporal?"

 

[Krayn]

Private Quarters // FIV “Eidolon” // Resurgent II Class Battlecruiser.​

Ketal System, Outer System Edges, Border with the First Order.

Krayn had not been himself of late. The messenger, a tool of the First Order had been dispatched from his usual haunts of Mustafar and Dosuun, aboard a shuttle and in claddings of black he had delivered his masters will to the one known as Admiral Saren. Her fleet, more specifically the ship she was in command of was to be taken away from the now cold lines of the Ssi-Ruuvi front and deployed closer to the push against the Alliance. The Supreme Leader had shared her importance in the war, her history and connections with the great enemy, yet it had also meant that he had been confined to the innards of a ship commanded by a traitor to what she once held dear.

His holdings were as simple as could be expected from a machine of the line, yet as he had requested they were private to him alone, allowing the Ren to connect with his master in the ways that their kind could and try to make sense of any calling that he may declare through the order. Yet even in his solitude all that he could make from the force was nothing but confusing influxes of waves and emotions. Naturally with a war going on it was to be like this, yet for a Ren? Surely the dark side would be strong enough to push through the nonsense.

Flexing his shoulders he calmed his mind. Eyes closing beneath the faceless helmet he wore as his face. He would make sense of all this. He would master what he needed to understand.

 

[The Major]

Sometime later...​

Commotion in the streets.​

​

Shouting and the haphazard entanglement of looting glee fills the byways as hundreds of people flee from building to building. Paramedics, overwhelmed, can be heard like preachers in the midst of an unholy mass. They yell out upon various devices to amplify their chorus, chanting for calm and order. The police struggle to keep those who would exploit others further along in sickness from outpouring their wickedness upon neighbor and colleague alike. Some of the citizens have gotten it into their head that sickness is passed along via contaminated clothing and makeshift pyres burn. Shots occasionally ring out, and the wail of firefighting crews buzzing around the city center racks the air in ear piercing inclination. The lot of it served as prepossessing incantation. Pandemonium.

She had expected there to be some form of confusion. But to imagine how many were being needlessly hurt. Families torn apart. Was she guilty of wrong? No, of course more would have died if a full blown military operation took place. Alliance space being but a hyperjump away - such intervention could only result in a heavy set battle that would end in so many more being torn asunder by wartime's inevitable violence. This was the safest option for the First Order's interests. Besides, she hadn't designed the virus nor had even purposefully applied the sickness to any one person. Slaying traitors was righteousness at work -exactly why the Major could relish upon it so. She could even rationalize it from the perspective that her acting now would only quell the riots more swiftly. In effect, the Fallanassi operator could say she was doing her part for the greater good.

Right?​

​

And yet this assurance didn't stop the Major from sprinting from the landing pad that straddled the local parliament with Agent Nillks in tow while fighting back a swelling pain in her chest.

It didn't stop her from repeating the condemnation in her head from recent days. . .

"...each person is a pawn that you manipulate according to your own twisted desires."​

​

It's not like that. It's not. If I didn't do this, they would get someone who didn't care to do so. I have to do this. It's the only way to help.

"...each person is a pawn..."​

​

The pair of agents raised their hands and waved towards the guards of the building who, understandably under immense distress, approached with their weapons drawn.

[member="Astarii Saren"] | [member="Malcolm Denwich"] | [member="Samka Derith"]​

 

[Krayn]

Resistance.
It was futile.
Yet he knew as well as anyone that it could in time boil into the destruction of the First Order and everything they held true to their hearts. Somewhere in the system a planet stank of it, but Ketal would be dealt with in time, given order and hope of survival against the oncoming storm.
No it was someplace else that had caught his attention, a band of troubled souls within the waves of the force that he had been directed towards.

“Who are you?” He spoke, verbally expelling the words meant for his head, there of course would be no answer. His head would incline slightly, eyes closed and unseeing of the physical world as his form maintained its meditative position on the hard polished floor. “Who are you?” He would repeat.

Silence. A cold and utter nothingness that would retain all sense of control through his mind. It irritated and angered him, surely his own will would be stronger then this petty presence? Surely he was not so weak. He would repeat his question again, this time emotion getting the better, filling his voice with anger, pride and frustration.

“WHO ARE YOU?”

His eyes shot open, the helmet retrieving all nearby imagery for his own viewing. His breathing was hard, almost as if he had ran for miles, he took a gulp, swallowing his momentary lapse in judgement. “So…it is true.”

He stood, turned and exited his quarters.

 

[Darth Athora]

Azula quickly popped to attention once the Tribune walked up and spoke to the pair. "Yes sir. It would be an honor." She picked up her rifle from the ground and went off with the other two. As the trio moved about the perimeter, Azula was vigilant as ever. She wanted to make a good impression on the Tribune. No mistakes were to be made.

"Sir, how is the operation coming along?" She didn't mean to seem impatient, if she did appear that way. She was just curious about the bigger makings at work at the time and how they were going. A low groaning from nearby alerted Azula. "Sir, I think someone's hurt. Permission to check it out?"

[member="Khonsu Amon"]​