Back in Business | First Order Dominion of Halm Hex

[Natasi Fortan]

Objective 1
Post 4

Natasi worked her other hand and arm into her glove and moved towards her bed, sticking the folder back into the red state box, then shut and sealed the box before lifting it from the bed and setting it aside next to the bed. "Then you must call me Natasi," replied the Grand Moff as she sat down at the dressing table opposite the bed. "I hope you don't mind if I tidy up while we talk. It takes rather a lot of effort to look this average." She began to apply the finishing touches to her makeup.

"You're more than welcome to make your own contracts with the First Order and the contacts here," Natasi said as she applied mascara, her dark eyes glancing to [member="Suravi Teigra"] in the mirror between eyes. "The whole point of this function is for networking and dialogue." She set her mascara down and picked up her lipstick. "It's going to be a fantastic weekend," Natasi enthused after her makeup was completed. She turned back to Suravi and stood up, smoothing her beaded gown absent-mindedly before giving herself one last look-over in the mirror. "Anyway, was there anything you wanted to discuss before we go for cocktails?"

 

[Commander Lusk]

Location: Outskirts of Citadel and Criminal Stronghold
Objective: 2/Intel gathering
Post: 1

Clones had a different way of doing things. This wasn't to say that the method of cloak and dagger wasn't effective, far from it really. It was just the Spaarti grown soldiers of the former Republic had a very different way of gathering information. One that was not for the feint of heart or those of weak constitution.

On the outskirts of the Citadel on the roads leading to other cities and locations, there was utter carnage. Strewn across the road was what seemed to be some sort of speeder accident, a few vehicles were tipped over their side and one was almost completely crushed. Along the road dead men lined it and blood began to trickle down the slight incline of the street, it's red staining the cracks and grooves of the pavement. But those bodies were not all that was left, there were survivors who had been gathered up on the shoulder.

Four men on their knees with their hands on their heads and looking straight to the ground in fear. They were criminals, the very same that had been polluting the good people of Cerea. So as they looked down some shaking and quivering, an armored footstep walked past bodies and then knelt down in front of the group of men.

A set of jagged skull like teeth painted across an Olympian Battle Helmet greeted the four men and stared them down behind a lifeless visor. There was an small silence before the vocalizers activated and the armored figure spoke.

"Basic?" He asked the man in front of him.

"No basic no basic!" The man shouted in a very thick accent.

"Gumball! What's the accent?" The armored figured asked another soldier in identical armor standing nearby.

"Sounds like something from the outer rim. Best bet I'd say it's something from Hutt space, Lusk." Gumball replied in a very swift and knowledgable tone.

"Alright. Anyone here speak it?" The man now identified as Lusk asked the group in a very calm demeanor.

The clones around him all replied with "No's" or nods of the head. Lusk simply sighed and gave the criminal a pat on the shoulder twice. That was the sign. A large and more bulky clone swiftly came up and grabbed the criminal by the back of the collar and started to drag him off past the shoulder of the deserted road.

"NO! NO!! NO PLEASE!! I SPEAK BASIC!! I SPEAK BASI-" The man's pleading was interrupted by the roar of a slug thrower firing around and then by something heavy hitting the ground like a sack of dead meat.

So Lusk looked over to the second man in a very calm and professional voice he spoke to him.

"Basic?" He asked once.

[member="Priscilla Genesis"] [member="Perth Levov"]

 

[Ardgal Raxis]

Post: 2
Objective: 1

Ardgal finished his reading at last a moment after Doctor Taylor administered the final touches of his meds. Project 13 pulled himself up to his feet and opened the dresser that had been assigned to his room, running his hands over the smooth Abochi wood surface. It was top quality stuff, at one point he would have savored it and appreciated it. But after Project: Madman he had been too dehumanized for the finer things in life. Clad in his simple clothing, the warrior strapped his blade to his side. He didn't feel comfortable unarmed, but it was ceremonial enough to pass in social circumstances like this with little more than a passing glance.

He stepped out on the deck and felt the breeze rustle through his hair and across his face. Ardgal closed his eyes as he breathed in the sweet, clean air. The vong biot that had replaced his olfactory node identified 27 different chemicals and elements in the air, all combined to show an ideal day at sea that bespoke of joy and harmony.

"Well hi there, handsome," said a female voice, breaking Ardgal from his revere/analysis.

Project 13 opened his eyes to see a lady coming towards him with a slim smile across her lipsticked lips. He gave a slight nod in her direction.

"Well, my name is Genniva, Genniva Cloiser, what might your name be?" She asked, her eyes giving him the once over.

The commander blinked once, unphased or unaware of her flirting, instead his mind was a great deal more clinical than she gauged it would be.

"You should consider getting voice lessons," he said bluntly, "You place too much emphasis on your plosives for your Outer Rim accent to be believable. It clearly gives away your origin in the Expansion Rejoin."

Her face turned a bright red and the woman puckered her lips in anger for a moment before storming away, leaving Project 13 alone with his thoughts and his hate of the water.

[member="Natasi Fortan"] I [member="Suravi Teigra"] I [member="Asharad Graush"] I [member="Dunames Lopez"] I [member="Hector Finn-Camden"] I [member="Sunny Lee"] I @Anyone I missed

 

[Eugen Aker]

Location: Marzoon
Objective: Investigate FU Academy
Allies: --
Opposition: --
Neutral: [member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="Stardust Raxis"] [member="Zmej Ren"]
3/38

Just as Arisa was about to return to Kiribi from Dosuun after some executive protection, she received a request from Voss to check out something in the Marzoon system. The Silver Jedi had received a message from a mysterious group that would only identify themselves as the Seekers. It had been quite a task to decode the encrypted message, and even then its contents were somewhat cryptic, some vague request to see something they promised would be of great interest to the Jedi.

Normally, this would have probably been something handed off to the New Jedi Order as they were closer, but since she was in the neighborhood, it didn't hurt to poke around herself as a seasoned investigator. She decided to take the assignment, and arrangements were made. So, aboard her heavily modified YT-freighter, she set a course for Marzoon.

In-system, she arrived at a rather nondescript Mid-Rim world with nothing that immediately jumped out at her. Upon landing, she sent a message to the Seekers of her arrival by subspace. It was raining outside, so she remained inside her ship until she saw a speeder roll up in front of the landing pad, the focus of its occupants becoming trained right on her. Right off the bat, she could sense them all to Force Sensitives. Now things had just become a lot more interesting, as she began to have an inkling of an idea for the reason behind their secrecy.

Little did the Jedi know, she had signed herself up for trouble.

 

[Zef Halo]

THE DESERT EMPRESS
HALM

Vitor, as usual, tried all sorts of ways to loosen his tie without it being too evident. He abhorred suits and ties. To him it felt as if he had been put in an ancient space suit and kicked into zero gravity. The businessman envied June at this point when he saw the dress she was so protective of. The dress impressed him, even if Avendahl was the last person that was capable of fashion appraisal. Yet, it was the fact that her dress was loose and did not look as hindering as his own attire that made him feel jealous.

The First Order and their rigid style.

The two took towards the upper decks, following the directions towards the lounges. Once in a while, when there was no one around, Vitor would still try to mess with the tie to comfort his chained neck. At one point even June reprimanded him and asked him to stop doing it to which he simply shook his head.

On their arrival at the lounges, Avendahl's eyes immediately fell upon the only familiar face there that casually strolled through the lounges in the company of a lady. The face was none other than the Sith who had been on Malachor during the talks of Sith alliance. He only could pin him down as the man from House Graush as that it is what he referred to belong to, indirectly, when he spoke at the Malachor meeting. Questions sprang in his mind whether Graush was here to represent his own financial interests or was his allegiance with the First Order ?

That would surprise Vitor. Who was this man ? Was he a Sith ? Or could he have been a spy from the Knights of Ren ?

Nonetheless, Graush was the only man in this cruise that he could say he had some sort of relation with. As meager, as it was, both were Sith and both had been eager to see the Sith rise again. That, of course, was only if he was not a Ren infiltrator. A direct approach would be horrendously stupid.

Vitor bit his lip as he dabbled with his choices of approach. Many thoughts crossed his mind but only one remained solid. Despite the risk behind this, Avendahl had learned that sometimes you had to be bolder to reap greater rewards.

A telepathic message through the Force, quieter than a whisper would echo in the Sith's head.

Graush?

[member="Asharad Graush"]​

 

[Perth Levov]

Objective 2: Cerea
Post: 3

Perth’s eyes darted back to the listening device and the men sitting there. Upon closer inspection, they looked to be security guards. Creatures of habit, they probably occupied the same booth night after night, completely unaware that their conversations were being monitored. Such carelessness frustrated Perth to the point of anger. The men were deserving of whatever harm would surely come their way. But she had a job to do for the First Order and if that saved their lives, it was a fortuitous consequence for them.

The security men left the cantina on foot and soon the two criminals exited too. They meandered their way through the small town. Perth followed from a discreet distance, keeping to the shadows when the moon came up, full and silver-white.

Their route eventually arrived at a tight-knit community of flimsy dwellings, many of them raised on stilts to keep them above pools of runoff water left by the rain.

The building that was the duo’s destination was an elevated cube with a metal roof. The cube’s only door was accessed by means of a ladder-like stairway. A rusted landspeeder with a cracked windscreen was parked in a muddy front lot.

Perth kept to the trees while a thickly built human responded to the Rodian’s raps on the door frame.

“Come on up,” the man said. “Everyone else is already here.”

 

[Eugen Aker]

4/38
"I don't mind at all," she answered with a small shake of the head. "Thank you, I will certainly take you up on that offer. I intend for the Republic to once more to become a productive member of galactic society."

She hardly expected to see her homeworld of Kiribi once again, let alone Coruscant. She was content to make a home out of untamed corners of the galaxy. If the Galactic Alliance and First Order could do it, then so could the Republic.

"Without trying to come off as gushing, the First Order is quite an inspiration. For the first time in modern history, you have managed to reorient the focal point of the galaxy from the core to here. Not since the Eternal Empire has anyone come close to matching such a feat. You are to be commended."

There had been several external factors at play for this result to occur, not the least of which had been takeover of the Core by the now defunct One Sith, but she would give credit where it was due. She was careful to compliment Natasi directly instead of the Supreme Leader. As far as she was concerned, the Grand Moff was the brains of this operation, and it would rise or fall according to her actions. Siegler could just be a nice bit of propaganda for all she cared.

"Average looking?" Suravi remarked as she gave Natasi a quick once over. While informal in style, the tasteful cream morning dress and crochet cover looked nice on her. "I'd love to see what you look like when you're really trying to impress."

"If we are to talk about anything, it's where you shop. Tell me your secrets."

[member="Natasi Fortan"]

 

[Progflaw99]

--- --- ---​

Location: The Desert Empress, Halm​

Objective: 1. Oversee Security, Scout Contracts​

Post: 2​

[ Theme ]​

--- --- ---​

​

The Desert Empress. *An Empress Indeed.* thought the First Order Major as he cast his eyes unabashedly across the form of a passing woman - clearly a member of the crew, though the outfit? More likely a showpiece than an actual utility uniform. Definitely. Stepping to the railing from the top deck, Rolf leaned out over the edge, the gentle breeze against his face as the water below lapped against the edge of the ship. Even under the triangular sails meant to provide shade on the upper deck he could feel the heat of the sun upon his back, the bright daylight reminding him to be thankful for the sun-glasses which rested on his face. All in all, it was quite a change from the pent up and stuffy board rooms he'd been forced to attend during the acquisition of weapons contracts for the First Order previously. The open air was a nice refresher, and so was the scenery. An oasis of pleasure and life abundant - that is how the military man viewed Halm. It was a step away from home, outside of the more restricted space of the First Order's domain - a welcome respite to the up tight and military nature of his position. Still officially representing the First Order's military interests however, he wasn't entirely off the leash as it were. He did get to stay out of that stuffy uniform, much to his relief.

He'd not managed to get a look at the guest list - no doubt it was firmly in the hands of the security crew in one of the larger cabins below. Not in official First Order space, many security measures had been put in place, so many that even Rolf didn't have access to all of the details. The guest list? That he might be able to get his hand on though. Taking one last breath of the fresh air he pushed off from the rail, footsteps leading him down the small staircase into the ship proper. The lightweight fabric of his sports polo hugged his torso but still allowed for proper breathing - a necessary feature given their surroundings. As he stepped down the stair, he quietly wondered just who had decided to RSVP to this event anyway. Outside the borders of the First Order, surely more companies would take interest, their safety not nearly as threatened given the current state of affairs between the Galactic Alliance and the Order. There was a war brewing, the sparks of which had first been ignited at Kaeshana - and the sharks would circle, jockeying for the First Order to use their product, purchase their tech. It was no secret, there was much money to be had via government contract if the right palms were greased and the right deals struck.

Making his way towards the security room, he presented his guest badge along with a small cylinder - the sentry at the door immediately let the Major into the de-facto security headquarters. The room was by original design, a conference room, but had been re purposed. Chairs had been pushed up against one wall, a projection screen displaying some of the major security protocols and a list of VIP's. Raising an eyebrow at the officer in plain clothes he turned, retrieving a coffee cup from beside the large thermos and filling it to the brim, listening all the while. As it turned out, the security was much heavier than even he'd thought, a wayward glance showing him probably more than he'd had clearance for. A little bit of knowledge gathered, Rolf made his way towards a large datapad on a table in the back and picked it up. Quickly tabbing through the information files, he found the guest list. A few corporate lobbyists, a few guests of guests - and then a name he recognized, in fact two.

*Well well, it looks like that reporter is back on the prowl for a story. I seem to be running into her everywhere... and, her husband?*

Rolf had taken note of another name listed right above the avid reporter's. Interesting. He supposed they'd never gotten around to any true discussion about their personal lives - just a spattering of social formality and a brief spat here or there regarding their recovery after they'd both sustained injuries on the barren and torn world of Kaeshana. It had been an experience for sure, though now that the Major had seen a pair of Finn-Camden's on the list it made him apprehensive. He'd formed a bond with some of the men he'd been in combat with, with the other soldiers of the legions but this was different. Lydia had been a civilian at the outset, forced to pick up a weapon or risk death - such experiences when shared formed a bond between people that even Rolf couldn't deny. It had been a thought bordering on his mind over the many weeks of recovery. Even a few weeks ago he had managed to run into the reporter, though this time more of a social outing than an official function, even if it had been sanctioned by the First Order. It had been a welcome relief but the nagging thought at the edge of his mind now muted at the sight of the name.

*No sense in making mountains of molehills I suppose.*

Setting the datapad gently back where he'd picked it up from, he adjusted the sunglasses atop his head and made his way out onto the exterior deck, once more content to peer over the rail and sip his coffee. A quick glance at his wrist chrono settled his mind. Guests would likely be arriving already if not well on their way to enjoying the refreshments provided free of charge. Less to worry about and more time to just enjoy his coffee in peace, though upon its conclusion he would be forced to mingle, appraising the businesses and technology that might well serve the First Order war machine, or even more likely, the Auxiliary. Until then, he was content to close his eyes and breath the fresh air - business and pleasure had never mixed so well.

[member="Lydia Finn-Camden"] | [member="Hector Finn-Camden"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Vitor Avendahl"] | [member="Ardgal Raxis"]​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Objective 1
Post 5

"It is as much happenstance as planning," Natasi admitted as she rose from her dressing table and walked over towards [member="Suravi Teigra"], joining the woman at the viewport. "But I confess that keeping the First Order out of the core for the foreseeable future is a constant struggle. Isobel Churchill -- the Minister of Defense -- is a competent administrator and has a strategic mind, but she is as core-blind as anyone I've ever met. There is something talismanic about Coruscant that I simply don't see. They see it as the capital of the galaxy -- the only place where important things can happen, and the inevitable goal of every power player on the galactic stage." She paused for a moment and then looked over to the Supreme Commander. "As a result, the people of Coruscant have suffered centuries of war over a planet that is -- if you'll forgive my saying so -- not relevant in terms of strategic thinking or resources."

The compliment on Natasi's fashion made her pink in the cheeks. "Actually, much of my wardrobe is designed by [member="Claire Organa"], the fashion guru behind Contessa. I'm hoping she'll attend the summit, actually, I've been trying to get her to open stores in the First Order for months. I suppose our unearned reputation for being thoughtless evildoers does take its toll, I believe she has been reluctant to upset some of her more moralistic investors. But who can say what's true?" She shrugged. "I also tend to wear more traditional Galidraani garb, which this is," she said, indicating her dress. "It's more traditional, but --" Again, she shrugged, a smirk appearing on her lips.

"More importantly -- who are you wearing?"

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Objective 1
Post 6

Twenty minutes wasn't long enough to bathe, exfoliate, moisturize, blow-dry, and dress. Talk about unreasonable demands. "Don't put on a tuxedo," she called as her brother disappeared into his own room. "On Galidraan -- "

"You never change on the first night of a voyage -- I know." Hector called. "But unlike you, I sweat, and I don't take two hours to get ready, so I'm going to shower and put on my other linen suit. Would you hang that in the cabinet by the door so it is taken for laundering?"

Yes, Lydia reflected as she picked up her brother's jacket and hung it in the cabinet near the door. This was the glamorous life, indeed. Part maid-of-all-work, part personal assistant, part whipping girl. She heaved a sigh and went into her bathroom to touch up her makeup before going back to the sitting room. The sun was hanging low over the horizon; the day was dying, and soon they would be underway.

On an impulse, the reporter headed for the door. "I'll see you on deck," she called to Hector, and slipped out before he could respond.

"Wait for me," Hector called back. After a moment: "Liddy? Lydia!"

She wanted to get the lay of the land, so she spent a few minutes walking down the corridor from the aft staircase to the fore staircase, then made her way up to the sun deck. The desert sun glared down from the sky and shimmering waves of heat rose from the dunes across the river, which itself reflected the sun back up. She was going to get a sunburn if she wasn't careful. When she spotted a familiar figure at the railing just down the deck, she had to amend herself internally. It wasn't just the sun that would burn her if she wasn't careful.

"We have to stop meeting like this," she said as she approached [member="Rolf Amsel"] from the side. She came to a halt about a meter from him and leaned against the railing with one elbow, pulling down her sunglasses to peer over the rims. "People will talk."

 

[Progflaw99]

--- --- ---​

Location: The Desert Empress, Halm​

Objective: 1. Oversee Security, Scout Contracts​

Post: 3​

--- --- ---​

He'd nearly dozed off there, the abrupt voice cutting through the fog of his daydream as he'd looked out over the rail. Almost dropping his coffee over the edge he quickly stood, a look of recognition slowly crossing his features as he recognized the woman. *The fates are strange.* thought the Major to himself as he raised the sunglasses from his face atop his head. A playful grin met the reporter as he took a deep breath. He'd known she would be in attendance but it was almost as if he were reliving their last few encounters - deja vu.

"Oh? And what pray would they say?" A grin. "I'd be willing to bet your reporter gig's a ruse, you must be FOSB."​

​

He chuckled at that. The FOSB, the boogeyman of the First Order military, the spooks. Jokingly Rolf began to turn as if to run - turning back to face the woman once more, his eyes meeting hers.

"So, how'd you get stuck covering this boring affair? Certainly there are more exciting things an avid reporter like yourself would have enjoyed covering?"​

​

Curiosity got the better of the officer, his eyes first averting down, then across to the dunes on the far side of the river. *Hmm. No ring, though I doubt the galaxy is particularly exclusive when it comes to traditions of matrimony.* It was a strange feeling for the Major, why did it even matter? But there it was, the nagging question at the back of his mind. Forcing the question to the rear, he gestured towards the scenery, a smirk as his attention fell on Lydia once more after speaking.

"Can't complain about the scenery in any case, right?" ​

​

​

[member="Lydia Finn-Camden"] | [member="Hector Finn-Camden"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Vitor Avendahl"] | [member="Ardgal Raxis"]​

 

[Priscilla Utorna]

Objective; 2
Post; 2

As she spilled the water, the disgruntled Rodian eventually exited, deciding not to waste his time on her. Had she been quick enough, she also most likely would've began tailing him as another girl in the bar, presumably a friend in this cause, began to do. But she wasn't.

He waved his hand behind and a guard stood up, grabbing Heidi by her arms, a forceful shove brought her outside the door, now in an alleyway. She knew what was about to happen; at least if she didn't act. She saw his hand move for the blaster, and in response she reached for her back and removed a stun baton that had been lodged between her skirt and shirt, setting the charge and the electrical hum began. She forcefully stuck it into his torso, a jolt of electricity shooting down him and causing a rush of movement before eventually stopping, the man spurting up saliva as he stopped.

She knew it wouldn't kill him, that's why she used it.

Dragging him behind the bar even further, in an even darker alleyway, she began the meticulous search of his body. She found a house key, a note scribbled with an address. It was somewhere to start. Before leaving the man, she took his blaster and threw it in a trash can, then turned off her stun baton and lodged it back between her skirt and shirt, no doubt will it have its uses in the upcoming days.

"You could've killed me..." a small giggle emerged in despite of the seriousness of the situation.

She made way for the apartment listed on the note, she asked some locals for directions, they didn't even know this particular house existed.

One local Cerean even gave her a confused look with a laugh followed by his statement

"43 Capital Lane? Not even a place, kid."

A false address? Why would he be carrying a false address... She continued to wonder as she searched for clues to this location, if it was even a real place to begin with.

[member="Perth Levov"] I [member="Commander Lusk"]

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Objective 1
Post 7

Lydia turned away from [member="Rolf Amsel"] and leaned on the railing on her forearms. The breeze blew her hair and dress gently, cooling her skin, the effect exaggerated by the dipping heat. "If your instinct is that I couldn't afford to travel at this level, well -- you're absolutely right," she said with a smirk. She lifted her glasses back onto her nose and looked out over the railing. "But I'm afraid the story is much less interesting than you imagine. FOSB? Please. I've been told I'm about as subtle as a hole in the head."

She paused for a few moments, looking across the river as a massive sand lizard approached the river and began to drink. "Between you and I, I had my doubts about this. I mean -- it's a little bit cozy murder mystery, don't you think? But somehow, it feels like it's going to work." She turned and leaned against the railing with her elbows, facing the opposite side of the deck, where a few executives were exchanging pleasantries.

"The truth is, my misadventure on Kaeshana made for an absolute ratings bonanza for my employer, and I'm here not just to cover the event but also to interview with the military brass about being formally embedded with the military. Hector is hoping to butter someone up into agreeing to take me, so don't you go telling them what a pain in the neck I was, or they'll run for the lifeboats." She smirked and blew out a sigh. "I could do without excitement for a bit. A nice, slow river cruise is just what I could go for. Though if Hector's wishes came true, there'd be some sort of terrorist attack and I'd be cowered in a closet somewhere, talking to my camera and bleeding."

She looked over at Rolf. "Aren't you a little overqualified to be babysitting a bunch of millionaires? Are we to expect trouble?"

 

[Eugen Aker]

5/38

Suravi nodded along as Natasi spoke, appreciating her candor on the subject of the Core.

"While there was once some strategic significance to the Core, disruption in the galaxy's traditional political and economic center forced us all to become more self-reliant, resulting in the wide-spanning multi-polar environment we see today. For all the ills of the Sith, their conquest of the Core had some unexpected benefits. Unprecedented development of the Outer Rim and other far-far flung regions, and much greater resilience to the shocks that come from war and all the other maddening events that now seem so commonplace."

"As of now, Coruscant is nothing but a political trophy. Which is why the Galactic Alliance remains on Sullust."

It seemed her compliment on Natasi's fashion sense hit a nerve in the right way. She smiled as she noted how the other woman's cheeks became tinged with color.

"Contessa? I remember being their client way back when there was only a single location. I liked their evening wear, all such intricate pieces. I wouldn't mind seeing a chain out here myself. However, at the end of the day, it's always the woman who makes the dress, and you make it look marvelous."

"My dress, do you like?" she asked, make a half turn toward Natasi to give her a better view of the front. "It's a custom order from a boutique I found on Seoul, 'Corso Como' it's called. The fabric is military grade synthetic silk sourced from Daehan. The only company I found there able to reproduce the colors I like. I hope Ms. Lee is here for you to meet later. Charming woman, and whip-smart in all things related to materials and metallurgy."

"Sometime, you'll have to have to go shopping with me on Seoul, if the good Grand Moff has the time, of course."

After years of being cooped up on a starship with little more than combat fatigues and armor, she had a lot of making up to do, galaxy be damned.

[member="Natasi Fortan"] [member="Sunny Lee"]

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Obj 3
Post 2

Kyrel noticed [member="Stardust Raxis"] and nodded as she spoke. He did not notice much about the former Mandalorian, but as long as she was devoted to the will of the Supreme Leader he couldn't argue with her in being on this mission. He had his lightsaber in his hand ready for the possible encounter that lied ahead of him. A stormtrooper than said to him after inspecting the rest of the troops that were in the transport. "My Lord everything is ready shall we depart to the surface sir?" Kyrel did not hesitate and said through his metallic voice. "Yes begin at once." The shuttle slowly started to hover, it's engines roaring as the bat like wings unfolded and slowly made it's way out of the hanger bay.

The shuttle slowly descended down the planet to the coordinates for the academy that was provided to him. The shuttle experienced mild turbulence causing the craft to shake, Kyrel could hear the rumbling but did not care, as he stood keeping himself stuck to the durasteel floor. He waited for the shuttle to reach the coordinates which would be outside the academy. The shuttle managed to break free through the atmosphere and descend rapidly through the cloudy skies.

The shuttle came to a slow stop upon reaching it's destination which was outside of the academy. The bat like wings folded and the engines powered down. The troops made last inspections to they're weapons and equipment. When it was all done the captain said. "Alright men move out." The troops than walked out in two lines as the shuttle's ramp lowered and light from the outside flooded the inside of the ship. Kyrel walked slowly onto the ramp and stopped as he reached the ground. He admired his surroundings curious about them before the captain. "Sir the Academy is just up ahead." Kyrel nodded feeling another presence throughout the force, and sending a message out to [member="Zmej Ren"] who had sensed was nearby. He said after he was finished. "Very good, come with me we have a task to complete." He said walking to the entrance of the Academy leading the troopers to there destination.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Objective 1
Post 8

Natasi bristled at the mention of the Galactic Alliance's capital planet of Sullust, squeezing her eyes shut in an effort to conceal the rage and grief that flashed beneath. "For now," she countered, a note of menace in her voice before she opened her eyes and turned away from the window. "Anyway. Now that I know she's who made that dress, I will of course need to meet her. I can't very well play favorites, can I?" She turned towards the door and started walking towards it. "I suppose we should go and mingle. Nothing too fancy tonight -- there will be plenty of time for black tie and dress blacks tomorrow evening. We'll be pushing off soon," Natasi said as she glanced at her watch.

The Grand Moff opened the door. Clémence was waiting and fell into step behind her employer. "Clem, would you get me the final guest list, please? I'd like to see who RSVP'd yes, who RSVP'd no, and who never responded -- and see if their rooms have been claimed. I'm sure security has a manifest somewhere, they'll be tracking these things for impostors." The private secretary nodded and strolled off ahead of the Grand Moff.

"I'd be delighted to visit Seoul. Of course, I'll have to schedule something else there to justify the trip. I can't imagine the people would delight in seeing me shopping the day away while their family and friends and neighbors are preparing for war." She frowned thoughtfully. "Not that I think it's wrong," she added. "It will stimulate the local economy which will be good in the long term. But the optics -- you know." Natasi followed the corridor along to the forward staircase, an opulent room that spanned the public decks of the ship and featured a great glass skylight at the top, letting natural light stream through, and then realized that she didn't know whether [member="Suravi Teigra"] had followed her out. She turned and looked around for the Supreme Commander.

 

[Stardust Solus Skirae]

[member="Kyrel Ren"]

Obj 3
Post 2
He was a silent type...she looked at the troops as they got ready and the finally say was given, she felt that rumble of the engines and the roar of them....a all to familiar sound to the rogue master, she took a breath in and closed her eyes head down

She then looked up to kyrel, she finally got a good look at him, he looked like the vader of old, yet with a different touch definitely more....human

She followed the ship shake even more letting a breath out as she stood and checked everything, her right arm transformed into a gun as she checked the cell and nodded letting it go back as she popped her neck

Once they had landed she followed out behind him, she looked around the land as she then turned towards the academy as she followed by kyrel and spoke

they won't be happy with a show of force, I know this from experience, I'd say be ready for a fight...

She suggested as she looked over to him

 

[Progflaw99]

--- --- ---​

Location: The Desert Empress, Halm​

Objective: 1. Oversee Security, Scout Contracts​

Post: 4​

--- --- ---​

The Major sipped at the coffee, listening as Lydia spoke. He almost spit out his coffee hearing the woman make a joke nearly as morbid as some of the ones told by the veteran troopers - or those of a more uncouth nature by default such as the Gundark Gunners. Rolf shook his head as he regained his composure, fond memories of the night outing they'd had with a mixed bag of soldiers, politicians, and First Order officials. His gaze followed Lydia's across the water, landing on the sand lizard. An interesting creature, and for a moment he stood in tandem, eyes fixed on the reptile as it sated its thirst from the bank. He gave their surroundings a once over, Lydia had a point. It was a bit more cozy than was par for the First Order - but he knew the security was tight, he'd seen the plans himself.

"It does seem a bit... What's the word I'm looking for, peculiar? It's a bit less corporate than the usual, I'll admit. Though the security plans seems solid."​

​

Rolf nodded as she continued. Yes, he supposed that the event would have sent the ratings through the roof. Footage from the front lines was usually sensationalized but from what he could tell, the woman had told her story as she'd seen it. He appreciated that. A raised eyebrow signaled his surprise as she spoke towards being formally embedded. He hadn't seen that one coming - it wasn't often that the media was allowed to be permanently embedded with the main military force though perhaps 'the brass' has seen something good come of the footage that the woman had recorded. *There's that name name again. Hector.* He cracked a smile as she told him off of describing her as a 'pain in the neck'. She had to have known that she had been anything but. In the moment that mattered, she'd taken up arms and even saved Rolf's life - a thought strayed for a moment, wondering if he'd ever properly thanked her for that... but here was not the time nor the place.

"That's a bit morbid, I doubt anyone would want you to be trapped in a closet, bleeding."​

​

There it was again. *Hector.* Twice in the course of less than a minute - she must be referring to a husband, a lover at the very least.

"Hector? You've mentioned him a few times now, your... significant other?"​

​

The words had sort of tumbled out of his mouth, perhaps a bit less elegantly than he'd hoped - certainly not a subtle question. Rolf looked awkwardly at his mostly empty coffee cup, unsure of exactly how he'd gotten where he was. Nervously he cracked a smile, unsure of how to proceed. Years of buckling down and adhering to the strict regulations of the First Order military had rendered his social game a bit weak - though she had just said as much of herself. *Less subtle than a hole in the head.*

"As far as babysitting..." He continued still hesitantly. "...I'm sort of here on business as well, the security staff have that covered - actually I'm here as sort of a... I guess you'd call it a front line consultant. No one better to talk to the tech guru's than the grunts on the ground I guess."​

​

Rolf shrugged. It was an odd position he found himself in, but one he was starting to fit into well. Still belonging to the First Imperial Shock Troopers. Affectionately known as Fortan's FIST, the Legion was the permanent garrison on the FIV Concordia and was privy to many pilot projects, weapons tests and fielding that the rest of the Stormtrooper Corps wasn't - this was just one of those things that required a bit more of a specialized touch, and so the Major had been chosen due to his rapidly accumulating service record.

[member="Lydia Finn-Camden"] | [member="Hector Finn-Camden"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Vitor Avendahl"] | [member="Ardgal Raxis"]​

 

[Eugen Aker]

6/35

Suravi wasn't quite expecting such a strong reaction from Natasi as she mentioned Sullust, that of barely controlled rage. She herself despised the Galactic Alliance, but on an abstract level that had more to do with her disapproval of the Jedi. The geopolitical struggles of the competing imperialists of today interested her very little. From a distance, the Grand Moff had always come off as a cold calculating woman, but in private conversation, she came off as quite passionate. She would take it as a good sign that Natasi felt comfortable enough to drop her guard, or she had just made the unfortunate discovery that she was in fact dealing with a firebrand.

Their private moment would finally come to a close as Natasi left her side to answer the door. It was time to get back into the swing of things. New people to meet, and deals to make. She wouldn't have minded speaking with her counterpart a little while longer, someone that could relate to her better than most. With each exchange, her intrigue grew. There would be plenty of other opportunities to do so throughout the cruise, she was sure. Now it was back to Grand Moff and Supreme Commander.

When Natasi looked over to see if she had followed her out, she was already there right beside her, having moved in place with the quietness of an assassin.

"But of course, we both know that this little boating trip isn't just a glorified work function. I intend to enjoy myself this weekend. I'll hope you'll try and do the same."

[member="Natasi Fortan"]

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Objective 1
Post 9

Lydia raised her eyebrows at his comment that no one would want her trapped in a closet, bleeding, and looked enigmatically out to the opposite bank. It had been a throwaway remark from a bitter younger sibling who grew tired of being overshadowed by birth and sex, rather than merit, but it expressed an acknowledgment of Hector's ambivalence towards her. To her brother, she was a pawn in a game, an asset to be used when useful and ignored when not. It was the role of women on Galidraan -- in their class, at least -- to be ornamental baby factories. Natasi Fortan had broken the mold, though both Hector and Lydia knew, from their heist of Sioux Chambers' flat, that she would have been just as happy in such a role, but had been rejected by the only man that she felt was equal to the task. Lydia hoped to follow in those footsteps and make a name for herself as a journalist rather than being consigned to the dustbin of life as a Countess of Something or Other and have a litter of children.

"You don't know Hector," she said with note of mischief in her voice, as if she was letting [member="Rolf Amsel"] in on a strictly-held secret, but she stopped to laugh at his response. She laughed, and she laughed, and she laughed. Later, it would still be funny, but Lydia would have to wonder where she had gone wrong at the military ball to make him think this. She had meant to turn on the charm then, but admittedly, in the glare of the event itself, she may have been too overwhelmed to really get the word out. She straightened up, inhaling deeply to try to keep herself from continuing.

Then she doubled over and laughed some more, until she had to cover her mouth to keep herself quiet, as one or two of the executives nearby looked over to wonder just what was happening to the reporter. She held up a hand, waving her splayed hand apologetically before she came to her senses, taking her glasses off. Tears streamed down her now-ruddy cheeks, and her eyes had taken on a bright, almost incandescent blue-green color from crying. "I'm sorry, it's just -- I forget that we're not at home where people know us." She brushed her cheeks with the back of her hands and beamed jovially as she tucked her sunglasses into the décolletage of her sundress. "Hector is -- he's my brother. He runs Camden Media Group, which owns Avalonia Broadcasting System, which I report for."

She finished dabbing her eyes with her knuckles and sighed the final breath of laughter from her lungs. "And even if he were not my brother, he would still be a highly-enriched, weapons-grade prig, and God help any woman who would have him."

The waiters were beginning to circle with drinks and hors d'ouvres, and Lydia took a glass of white wine from the tray as it passed by. "Thank you for that," she said, toasting him with the drink. "I haven't laughed that hard in awhile. Good for the soul, you know." She took a sip and leaned back against the railing. "Do you think they'll bring any weapons and things onboard for you to look at? There's a pigeon-shooting platform at the back of the boat," she said, gesturing towards the aft. "Perhaps you could test whatever they have on this little clay things. It wouldn't be exactly like shooting an Alliance soldier, but it's something."