First Order: All Hallow's Eve [Dominion of Red Nebula and Gehenna]

[Dr Kristoph Morley]

Post: 2
Allies: @Basileus Isauros
Location Red Nebula, On Shuttle
Objective: 2/3

There was definitely something unnerving about the quiet...

Kristoph hefted his assembled gear; the field fabrication unit, a full field medical kit, basic life support unit and his FC-1 flechette. As he passed the engineering area on his way to the hangar, he decided to take one further precaution.

As he stepped onto the shuttle he was greeted with strange looks from the other crewmen.

"Commander, I hope you don't mind that I took the liberty of borrowing a powered environment suit. I don't know what's in this cloud and I damn well don't want to find out."

He took his place in one of the seats and began to make suit calibrations on his wrist mounted data-pad.

 

[Wolf]

Post 2
Objective 3
Location: Mess hall, aboard Imperial-X Star Destroyer Abdicator
[member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Zee"] | [member="Erich Arnstein"] | [member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="Sara Lee Jones"] | [member="Jaron Lesan"] | [member="Thomas Kyrel"] | [member="Iroatas"] | [member="Darth Veles"]

"A ghost ship? How interesting." Wolf's brows furrowed, looking back down to his food. Something did not feel right at all. Why even approach it? He would presume there must be a survivor or two that would warrant intervention. It could be a simple case of a puncture in the ship hull causing it to depressurise and the resulting loss of oxygen suffocating most on board. There were many safeguards to prevent such eventualities from happening however, ships were not being made for millennia past to easily fall prey to such simple complications. Wolf was no expert in naval vessels however. He hoped this was nothing more than a drastic systems failure, and that the Star Destroyer would simply pick up whatever survivors existed on the vessel and they would be on their way.

Wolf turned to see the Mon Calamari Sith Lord approach. It was good to see a familiar face. He wondered how the other troopers reacted to a non-human wandering around the Star Destroyer. They were probably used to it by now. Wolf smiled at Veles' greeting, his hoverchair reversing out from the table and whirring as it turned on the spot to face him, "And it is good to see you, Avreet, and to hear your kind words. A shame we cannot meet in better circumstances," Wolf smiled, glancing at his legs, and then back at the Sith Lord, "but I suppose I saw your limp and became rather jealous, and wanted to best it." He flashed him a grin as he gestured to an empty seat next to the woman opposite him. "You're not interrupting anything, please, take a seat. Indeed," he turned back towards the one-armed woman, "I did even not catch your name. Mine is Wolf."

He would stare out of the transparisteel window that lay at the end of the mess hall behind the one-armed woman, his face lookng rather concerned as his attention returned to the Mon Cal. He did not seem to care that the woman opposite him would be privy to their conversation. "Have you heard of this 'ghost ship' that we are apparently approaching? I know next to nothing of what is going on here. But it does not feel right," he paused, "indeed your command of the Force is stronger than mine. Can you sense anything?"

 

[Just Skeleton]

Location: Bridge of the Abdicator
Objective: 3; Relax, take it easy.
Post: #2

The Chiss kept sitting there at the bridge, even as the Admiral started giving out orders and updates to the crew. He simply kept sipping his tea and looking for some inspiration. When they towed in that ship it wasn't him who was the unlucky son of a Hutt who had to go inside. Oh no, he was a Naval Officer. He didn't do the groundwork. Infantry did the dying, Fleet just does the flying. This time would be no different, he was certain. Why else would they have a giatn complement of Stormtroopers to defend their ship from any attempt at boarding? And all those Knights of Ren. They could certainly take out a single life form, no matter what it was.

The Chiss turned to look at the Admiral. "Hey, Admiral Graf. You're good with me staying on the bridge, correct? I need to discuss some important business relating to the First Order Navy while the others are off being the away team." He said. His feet were still propped up on the slightly protruding part of the metal window frame and he still looked less formal than you'd expect from a Naval Officer of the First Order, but that's simply how Erich was. He didn't like the more trivial regulations. Who cared whether he wore his uniform the way it was designed to be worn or the way he felt most comfortable, he would still be recognisable as a First Order Officer either way.

[member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="Jaron Lesan"] | @Anyone else on the bridge I forgot (sorry!)

 

[Basileus Isauros]

Post: 4
Allies: [member="Dr Kristoph Morley"] , [member="Tanomas Graf"] , [member="Wolf"] , [member="Erich Arnstein"]
Location: Red Nebula, Abdicator
Objective: 2/3

"An environment suit? An interesting idea, I am glad to see you are prepared. However, I believe that you may have wasted your time."

Basileus hoped that Dr Morley's instincts and concern would not come to pass. While Basileus is wearing combat armour, it is not vacuum sealed and it does not have air filtration, perhaps it would be worth investing in a life-support system for his suit when he returns to First Order space.

Basileus ponderes the viability of the Upsilon-class shuttle. It is a very inefficient design and for its size it can only carry 5 people. The archaic Lambda-class could hold up to 20 passengers and was smaller than an Upsilon, unless he was much mistaken. Bringing back a variation of the Lambda might be beneficial for the First Order.

"FIV Abdicator, this is Commander Basileus Isauros. I would like to meet the Admiral. Requesting permission to board."

"Permission granted, meet the Admiral at the Bridge."

The shuttle landed in the designated area. The hanger was particularly busy at the moment, causing Basileus to doubt his preparedness.

"Dr Morley, if you would accompany me to the Bridge."

The Abdicator was difficult to navigate, bumping into several people before taking a lift to the Bridge. There was a group of people, with who Basileus believed to be the Admiral talking to the assembled group.

 

[Jaron Lesan]

Post 2
Objective 3
Location: Bridge, aboard Imperial-X Star Destroyer Abdicator
[member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Zee"] | [member="Erich Arnstein"] | [member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="Sara Lee Jones"] | [member="Wolf"] | [member="Thomas Kyrel"] | [member="Iroatas"] | [member="Darth Veles"]

Jaron listened to the admiral as he let out his plan. It seems foolish to bring a ship abaord when there was one line survivor and no knowledge as to why. Statistically the math worked in their favor though. With as many as were on the ship the threat could not do that much damage. However, Jaron was not one to underestimate any kind of threat. With a simple nod he pointed to a contingent of stormtroopers on the bridge. "Follow me," he said as he walked off toward the turboloft.

The ride to the shuttle bay was quiet, uneventful. The look set about Jaron's face was determined, yet hidden by his mask. His hands rest at his sides and as the doors opened booted feet carried him forward. Jaron and the troops stood on the observation deck waiting for the ship to be abaord. As soon as the ship came aboard they would investigate, but until then they would wait quietly.

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Post 2
Objective 3
Location: Mess hall,Imperial Star Destroyer X Abdicator.
[member="Wolf"],[member="Tanomas Graf"],[member="Zee"],[member="Erich Arnstein"],[member="Rexus Wenck"],[member="Sara Lee Jones"],[member="Jaron Lesan"],[member="Iroatas"],[member="Darth Veles"]

After sometime of being stuck in the barracks,Thomas slowly but surely mustered up the willpower to move himself outside towards the mess hall. Ignoring all the stares,and even with one look of the red photoreceptors,they all scurried back to their business. Despite the pain he constantly felt,he did love the intimidation factor this mechanical monstrosity gave him,at least that gave him some comfort. After some long strides he made it to the mess hall. He wasn't there to grab some grub that's for sure as he mostly gained nutrients from his suit,and during the times he did eat something that wasn't liquid he had to show his scarred face,and Thomas rather enjoyed his solitude within the suit.

He continued his slow painful steps towards a seat he looked around,and noticed several beings a woman,a man,and oddly enough a Mon Cal. He never been outside of First Order Space,and so knew very little about the outside galaxy nevertheless it was often strange to see a alien on a Imperial star cruiser. Nevertheless he wasn't going to make a fuss,and ask questions deciding it was best to not know anything,and from the moment he saw the man,and the Mon Cal,he felt a strange feeling like he was plunged in darkness and was freezing,but that would be impossible due to the internal systems of his suit so he thought it was a simple malfunction,and therefore shook it off as it was nothing.

He sat down rather close to them,as he made sure to keep his distance,but their was another part of him that was bored,and maybe even curious,perhaps both. Still as he sat he was angry,and so was brooding. He silently said to himself hoping the voabulater wouldn't raise the sound of the whisper. "A Month of being placed back into service after being stuck in this nightmare,and i'm forced to be part of what some scouting mission in a nebula filled with ghost stories. A TIE Pilot should deserve better than just sitting here doing nothing."

 

[Sara Lee Jones]

Post 2
Location mess hall
[member="Darth Veles"] [member="Wolf"]

She gave a nod as she took a bite of her food, she didn't give much thought to the fact it was a ghost ship maybe they'd just take it to be scrapped for other parts to go on and be built into the cruisers and such that flew in the first order, ones pilots like her called home most of the time unless they we grounded

She watched the mon cal come up and held back a look...she then wiped it off noting he was a ren and instead gave a soft smile as she nodded" your not interrupting indeed in fact we were just talking is all " she said as she gave a smiled and moved over so he kid sit in the chair by her, she looked to wolf and smiled " names Sara Lee Jones lieutenant of the first order pilots leader of bolt flight " she said proudly shamelessly boasting


She looked over seeing a tall armored figure sit close by, not much scared her...she thought nothing of it at all, however she perked up.listening to him and looked over with a kind smile"hey at least they sent people I can't even do much with one arm, names Sara by the way, which flight are you in

[member="Thomas Kyrel"]

 

[Darth Veles]

Location: Abdicator, mess hall
Objective: 3
[member="Sara Lee Jones"], [member="Wolf"], [member="Thomas Kyrel"]


Veles turned his head to face Wolfgang, cybernetic eye scanning the hoverchair that allowed the Ren to stay mobile. Such an unfitting reward for the man’s loyalty, but Dark Side users were known to overcome such weaknesses and emerge even stronger than before, evidenced by numerous Sith and Dark Jedi over and over again. Veles knew that all too well. It was the Dark Side’s very nature, surviving crushing blows, adapting and growing in strength, shattering one’s chains. If true in this case, the First Order had gained a powerful ally – and truly, the knight of Ren appeared far from broken and useless, joking about his situation instead of wallowing in self-pity. His presence alone spoke volumes about the unstoppable drive burning within him; enemies of the First Order would find themselves crushed by a new Wolfgang Krieger.

Ironically enough, Veles himself had not received any major injury during the heated battle against his experienced Mandalorian foe. Only a fresh set of scars where both large and small pieces of debris entered his body marked the Mon Cal’s struggle, hidden beneath a set of robes alongside his trophy; a Mandalorian tomahawk originally meant to find its target deep inside the Mon Cal’s large head – only to be caught and claimed by its intended victim. Therefore, the Sith Lord had no physical wound to overcome, no pain to fuel his hatred. Only this unspoken promise to meet the obsidian bladed weapon’s true owner and finish what’s been cut short by the Omega’s untimely destruction.

“A pleasure to meet you. Please, call me Avreet,” said the amphibious Sith to Sara while taking a seat by the pilot and offering her another warm smile alongside an acknowledging nod, impressed by her survival rather than boasts, although he did not clarify. After all, thousands have perished during the event, so living to tell the tale was nothing to be frowned upon, granting Sara the right to display justified pride. After both his attention and orange-coloured sight returned to Wolf’s place, Veles immediately assumed a thoughtful, yet calm and almost resigned expression, albeit when his eyes connected with the Ren’s, lights of realization could be seen.

“I am not a part of the First Order, friend, so I am afraid I know even less than yourself,” he informed carefully, “Though there is something strange in the Force, indeed. Like an oily cloud of death obscuring my vision. A warning. Better be ready for anything, knight.”

Already quite paranoid and wary, mind filled with gloomy scenarios, Darth Veles let the weight of his two trusty lightsaber hilts hidden beneath the heavy cloak reassure him, remind the Sith that unlike his two companions, he did not suffer from a disadvantageous physical disability. The thought allowed Veles to remain collected, trusting in the Force and his own abilities should anything go south, eternally a survivor destined to live through anything. Leaning back and thoughtfully playing with his whiskers, much like humans stroked their beards, the Mon Cal let his thoughts wander and weave sinister plots – not devoted to the Sith Lord’s own preservation as much as using these dark premonitions to his advantage, utilizing chaos to dispose of undesired Sith rivals.

With the train of thought suddenly interrupted by an unknown signature, Veles swivelled one bulbous orb towards its origin. A Vader-esque manifestation of pain and willpower stepped into the mess hall, radiating enough hatred to shatter bone should it be directed towards that purpose. Remaining silent, Veles cast a questioning look towards Wolfgang, believing the knight of Ren to be more aware and knowledgeable of the many Force users filling the First Order’s ranks.

 

[OK-3103]

If the concept of the Force was difficult for the average inhabitant of the galaxy to comprehend, the idea that a gemstone could turn people crimson-skinned – and more importantly dead – was even harder to get your head around.

Meneer was one of those inhabitants. He dealt with facts and tended to prefer more mundane explanations for preternatural occurrences over the more fanciful ones. The records showed that Crimson Forever was a disease caused by two unique gemstones. When the gems were separated, they produced a negative aura in the Force. This caused an exotic ailment, which induced a coma in its victims. The first stage of infection was a reddish colour in the eyes of the infected, who stared into space while failing to respond to attempts at reviving them, thus providing the affliction with its name. Advanced stages were signalled by the skin of the victim turning entirely red. Only one person had ever survived the disease apparently. One Luke Skywalker, apparently. Go figure!

So – or perhaps despite the story – Captain Meneer Chrome was heading to the Red Nebula, an area of the Unknown Regions. He was travelling with a single squad, his mission brief as yet to be detailed. Such cloak and dagger activity was not common, but nor was it unheard of. He’d find out why he was here in due course. He always did.

 

[Progflaw99]

----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----​

Location: Starboard Officer's Billeting, Quarters​

Objective: 2. Survive the Red Nebula​

In Vicinity: ​

[member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="OK-3103"] | [member="Darth Veles"]​

[member="Sara Lee Jones"] | [member="Thomas Kyrel"] | [member="Jaron Lesan"]​

[member="Basileus Isauros "]| [member="Erich Arnstein"] | [member="Wolf"] ​

[member="Dr Kristoph Morley"] | [member="Enyo Typhos"] | [member="Ranulph Tarkin"]​

​

Post: 1/27(?)​

----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----​

​

It wasn't that time already was it? The Major reached over, turning off the shrill alarm. He'd set the alarm to go off before they'd fully entered the Red Nebula system but it looked like they'd made better time than he'd predicted. Glancing over at the small comm device resting on his nightstand he saw a flashing blue light. He'd missed a page. With a low grunt he rose to an elbow, disturbing the thin sheets as he picked up the device, reading the text message he had received.

*Meeting. Main Bridge.*​

​

Checking the time Rolf noticed he'd received that page about fifteen minutes ago. Nothing for it, he'd have to settle with being late. Setting the comm device next to the alarm clock he slid his legs off the edge of the bed, his feet touching the cold durasteel deck. The chill sent shivers traveling up his legs. Rolf pushed himself up from the bunk, letting his arms rise above him in a well needed stretch. It wasn't that he felt uncomfortable while underway but the bunks did leave something to be desired. Stepping up to the miniature refresher contained in the somewhat lavish officer's assigned quarters, the Major peered into the mirror, looking to his left, then right. If he was going to be presentable, he'd need to clean up the 5 O'Clock shadow creeping up across his features. Turning the water on he reached down, steam rising from the sink.

If there was one thing to be said about the luxury of being ship board it was the instantaneous heated water. Reaching down to where his shaving kit was, he retrieved the equipment, laying it out on the edge of the sink. Retrieving a small brush and a dab of cream, Rolf worked the water in the mug to a lather before applying it to his face, first along the jawline and then across the remainder of his cheeks. A particularly large droplet of shaving cream falling to his white t-shirt. He'd have to change that later. Shutting off the water and grasping the handle of the straight razor that belonged to his kit Rolf brought his face closer to the mirror. Perfect.

With small precise strokes the blade did its work, removing any semblance of shadow from the right side of his jaw, the blade making a distinct scraping noise as it cut through the course facial hair attempting to make itself relevant. Nimbly the Major worked the blade, almost finishing his first sweep, the right side of his face sporting a thin mess of shaving cream yet. Setting down the razor momentarily, he re-applied using the brush. The second time he brought the blade to his face it was reversed, clearly against the grain this time. This is what allowed him to get the excessively clean and professional look he had, the close shave just one part of his overall appearance but one of the most important. Standing there in his skivvies he continued his work.

Absentmindedly he began thinking silently to himself. They were near Red Nebula now, it was almost as if he could sense it, something lurking there. He shook it off, it was just another nebula. He'd been present at Dead Nebula during the construction of the station there but even then hadn't felt this kind of unease. It wasn't one of those things he could put a finger on, more of an unsettling feeling clawing at the edge of his consciousness... but, he'd keep those thoughts to himself. Rolf wasn't a particularly outward man, at least when it came to feelings. He found it much easier to put up a facade, much safer as well. With his men, he'd managed to remove that barrier but upwards on the chain was an entirely different matter. Events on Zarnathea as well as across the empire had started to change him, his recent promotion to Major surely not the last of many changes for him.

 

[MK-1488]

Post: 1
Objective: 3
Allies: [member="Jaron Lesan"] [member="Tanomas Graf"]

Operating in the dead of space had given MK-1488 significant time to read. In his spare time when he was not on patrol duty, which was significant, MK had been catching up on classic literature from the days of the old Empire. He had begun to make his way through Emperor Palpatine's Dark Side Compendium, still on the first volume. It was fittingly titled the Book of Anger. Inside, the old Emperor had detailed things that MK would never hope to experience, as one who had not been touched by the gift of the Force. But Palpatine's voluminous tomes had invaluable insight on the Imperial figurehead's philosophy, something that even he, a mere Stormtrooper, could learn from.

He would have to continue reading at a later time, though. After the report of an unidentified vessel in the vicinity of the Red Nebula, MK had suited up into full gear. Admiral Graf had ordered the vessel to be investigated, and they would even have a Knight of Ren along the way as well. MK stood behind Jaron Lesan, surveying the hangar bay below, as the unidentified vessel was about to be pulled in.

He awaited the Knight of Ren's orders.

 

[Wolf]

Post 3
Objective 3
Location: Mess hall, aboard Imperial-X Star Destroyer Abdicator
[member="Sara Lee Jones"] | [member="Thomas Kyrel"] | [member="Darth Veles"]

"A pilot. Very good." Wolf smiled at her, taking note of the pride with which she spoke of her position. He glanced down at her missing arm, before looking back to her eyes, "Well, Lieutenant Jones, it is always a privilege to meet someone of such fine patriotic character." He had a momentary thought as to how a pilot encased in steel lost their arm, though it was not a topic he would probe further. It truly was a pleasure to witness the loyal servicemen and women of the First Order that had sacrificed so much, and still keep in such good spirits, without bitterness or dejection. The Battle of Castameer had been an exemplary showing of this on the galactic stage, outshining and disproving those who would consider the First Order with disdain, who would instead foolishly presume themselves to be the only ones capable of valour and righteous intent.

Wolf listened to Veles' words carefully. An 'oily cloud of death' did not sound altogether promising. Better be ready for anything. Well, there was a limit to how ready one could be, when one did not have the ability to walk. Wolf feared that he would not be much use if something... untoward, were to happen. Such fears would not make themselves apparent upon his expressions though, he was always one to make a brave face. The person of Veles was still a mystery to him, and he did not trust him. Though this did not preclude the usual pleasantries, and an air of general friendliness. At the end of the day Veles was a Sith, and to a Sith, society was a hierarchy, a framework ordered by strength. This was not a problem in of itself, indeed, Wolf and his fellow Imperials saw society in much the same way, but the question was did Veles see the Supreme Leader at the top of his personal hierarchy... or himself? And did Veles see the Supreme Leader's position as an immovable rock and foundation of the First Order, or one flexible and to be grasped at for one's own vain ambition? Wolf did not expect he would ever come to know what went on in that piscine mind of his.

Wolf turned in interest to see the source of pain and anger that had entered the room. A mechanical figure reminiscent of the ancient Imperial hero Vader, Wolf wondered for a moment if he would have to suffer the same fate to overcome his own injuries. Wolf returned Veles' questioning look with his own, and a shrug of the shoulders. Perhaps the man was of the Order of Ren, or perhaps one of the new Sith that had begun helping the First Order, much to Wolf's suspicious disdain. He overheard the man speak aloud his frustrations, and was surprised to find that he was in fact a TIE pilot being forced to accompany the capital ship to the Red Nebula. Interesting, that the First Order would go to such lengths as to construct a mechanical suit to preserve the mobility of a pilot. Must be quite some pilot. Wolf listened to Sara's question to the man, and stayed silent as his gaze remained on him, studying him with interest as he awaited his answer.

 

[Enyo Typhos]

[member="Orentho"], [member="Jude Falkrowe"]
(1)


The road to glory is paved with corpses and coated in blood. One could also add hypocrisy and an endless amount of rationalisation and outright lies. As far as the naked eye could see, the sight was pitiful. Gehenna was a mountainous, hellishly hot planet that bore no vegetation. To call it a binary furnace was considerable understatement. There was a hot, dead atmosphere.


Before Enyo lay the glory of Kerrigan's great war: The wreckages of vehicles, craters, other refuse of battle. Here lay the wrecks of Omega Protectorate tanks and Bando Gora demon engines. Only those vehicles that could be repaired had been salvaged. The rest were left to rust. There was nothing left of the dead except ashes and the whispers of ghost, carried by the howl of the wind. Why must we stay trapped in hell? One, or perhaps many of them, wondered. She was encased in a protected environmental suit, which was necessary to wear even at night. The gloom of the sky was lit by hellish reflections from the volcanic eruptions.


The Archangel operative, now more machine than woman ever since Archangel had rebuilt and enhanced her, bore the face of the warlord who'd descended from the sky to smite the Bando Gora twice, leaving naught but devastation and ruins in her wake. The call of Gehenna was strong, but it was the call of the dead. Monsters still lurked in the caves. The spirits bound to this place, unable to move on, had twisted them beyond recognition. Artefacts and temptation still awaited those who thought the mysteries of the Bando Gora were worth uncovering.


In the distance, she could see First Order shuttles descending from the blood red sky. Apparently the fascist state wanted to claim the hell world and Archangel just happened to have a small outpost here.The clone knew Gehenna well, for she had been trained here. The angry ghosts and monsters had been her constant companions.

 

[Sara Lee Jones]

She smiled and gave a salute to him as she chuckled and let her hand go down again" it's a honor to meet you as well wolf though I don't know what you do...either way I'm honored" she said as she chuckled again her spirit still high as ever

She looked over to [member="Darth Veles"] and bowed her head" avreet I am Sara pleasure to meet you to seeing as I have not seen your kind before...in person I mean" she said and gave a smile

She looked over to that armor man who had yet spoke...he was odd...yet he seemed interesting

[member="Wolf"]

Post 4
Objectiv3
Mess hall

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Post 3
Objective 3
Location: Mess hall.
[member="Sara Lee Jones"] ,[member="Wolf"],[member="Darth Veles"]

Thomas gazed around with his red photoreceptors,and saw the two figures glaring at him studying him. Within the suit he gained all types of information,internal temperatures,brain waves all that. Sometimes it was useful but it was just as much a nuisance to him as well. He than felt the same cold feeling from their gaze,and wondered if it was just him or something else. As a pilot he had heard stories rumors of a force sect within the FIrst Order. The Order of Ren,They were a group of mystics,that served the Supreme Leader,and acted as his will and personal representatives. Their were such beings back in the Galactic Empire,notably the Imperial Inquisitors,and even the Supreme Commander of the imperial military and navy Lord Vader. Did Thomas believe in any of it,he couldn't say after all he had only heard some stories from pilot's who were either exaggerating or making it all up,but he couldn't be so certain.. He did though dreamed of wielding such power,but how could he attain such a thing with the living hell he was in. It seemed entirely out of his grasp.

He was momentarily snapped out of his thoughts by a young woman that came into his field of vision,stating that she was a TIE pilot as well. He felt some sort of kinship,but he was also filled with anger and pain which made it difficult for him to know such joy. He looked at her,and wondered why she was suddenly so interested in him. He spoke with his metallic baritone. "I am Thomas. I served with the 212th Iron Squadron. Now i was transferred here,and i have no comrades,only faces that i do not know,and are unrecognizable. If i do see some action it will be difficult to maneuver a TIE due to my current state."

 

[Tanomas Graf]

Post III
Objective III: Investigate distress signal
Allies: [member="Basileus Isauros"] | [member="Zee"] | [member="Erich Arnstein"] | [member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="Wolf"] | [member="Jaron Lesan"] | [member="Sara Lee Jones"] | [member="Thomas Kyrel"] | [member="Iroatas"] | [member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Rolf Amsel"]

The research vessel was slowly tractored towards the star destroyer Abdicator, with a docking clamp fitting securely around it soon afterwards. As the pitch black void of space continued indefinitely below it, a docking tube extended from the side of the shuttle bay and connected with a loud clang and a hydraulic hiss. Technicians in the control bay typed codes in on the computer consoles and wires placed throughout the tube connected with the starship, opening the docking port of the foreign vessel.

A ghastly groan swept from the now opened ship following a gust of stale air that carried the foul stench of a decaying corpse. Shuffling could be heard from within but the life source that had been detected along with the distress signal never moved from their position inside the bridge. A couple of stormtroopers took up sentry position on either side of the entrance to the tube.

It was time to decide, enter or stay, are you brave enough to face the darkest aspects of the Force?

 

[Rexus Wenck]

Post: III
Objective III
Hangar of Imperial-X Star Destroyer Abdicator

A feeling of dread dropped itself in the stomach of Rexus as he and two squadrons from the Gundark Gunners took up position in the hangar. Rexus heart pounded beneath the polished, white breastplate. His hands clenched into fists, and his breathing was labored. His subordinates could sense the tension. "What are you Rexus? Scared?" The squad ones leader, Sergeant Farris teased. The others laughed like hyenas, chuckling that their traditional leader was in a position of weakness.

"Kark off Farris!" Rexus snapped defensively, "We don't know whats in there."

Farris let out a laugh, "You're off your rocker, there's nothing in there but maybe some kinda wamp rat or something."

Rexus shook his head and watched as the technicians rushed to move the ship into the hangar. The hangar foreman waved them over, "Take up position at the docking tube," he commanded. "We're extending it in a moment."

Rexus nodded, "Come on boys, let's get this over with."

Farris snickered, "Yeah boys, lets finish this before the boss browns his whites." Rexus ignored them, and walked to the tube, standing guard as it extended to the ship. The door opened once it reached its destination, and then the foreign ships opened a few seconds later.

Rexus physically winced at the sound of the groan, but soon forgot it. That smell, that was putrid. And that came from a man who'd had to clean overflowing latrines in a Zarnathean monsoon. It was so overpowering, the entire stormtrooper group gagged, and Rexus doubled over. His hand rushing to depressurise his helmet. He threw it off, and it landed with a clink. The lieutenants mouth was filled with bile which he spat to the ground, covering pristine chromed metal in a repugnant mix of star destroyer rations.

[member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Thomas Kyrel"] | [member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Erich Arnstein"] | [member="Wolf"] | [member="Jaron Lesan"] | [member="Rolf Amsel"] | @Irotas

 

[Basileus Isauros]

Post: 5
Objective: 2/3
Location: Bridge of the Abdicator

The Gundark Squadron had assembled at the hangar and had entered the docking tube was the last thing Commander Isauros heard before deciding he wanted to see what this ship held himself. A research vessel... it could hold the secret to this rumour of missing ships in the Red Nebula. It could hold valuable research on the psychology of an individual alone for days, months or even years. Basileus was hungry for knowledge and anything that could improve his position in the First Order.

When Basileus and his team reached the hangar he considered entering the ship himself. If he had more of his own loyal marines he would willing to go, but he wouldn't want to give the Admiral and reason to feel threatened. He ordered his bodyguard to get his F-11 blaster from the shuttle, just in case.
Basileus tuned his comms to the Gundark squad's frequency and listened. Putrid smell, maybe whatever is causing that smell could be a chemical weapon? Basileus couldn't remember if the chemical weapons act of 660ABY had been rescinded after all these years. He couldn't think of any incidences where anyone had used one in his lifetime.

 

[Iroatas]

Location: Abdicator Hangar
Post 3.

Perhaps Tvarka Ren could've felt the research vessel being docked to the Star Destroyer.

Perhaps Tvarka Ren could've felt the dead on board the research vessel, he was on the same side of the ship after all.

Perhaps Tvarka Ren could've heard the groan of the dead as they undoubtedly ventured closer to the new sense of life that the docking tubes opened up.

Perhaps Tvarka Ren could've felt, heard, seen many things.

But Tvarka Ren was busy.

And Tvarka Ren couldn't show himself without his trusty blacker than black cloak.

Reaching underneath the ridiculously thick mattress of the bed that he had come to love, he looked atop the frame underneath, he found nothing. He opened up a drawer in the dimly lit room, and he found nothing. Had he even packed it? Large teeth grated upon each other in irritation as he pulled open a drawer. There were black cloaks in there.

But none were his blacker than the void cloak.

Black orbs squinted in the darkness. Should he do it? Should he turn on the lights? No, he couldn't. They didn't work anyway. Shattered due to his enormous size, his scaled dome had destroyed many of them upon accident, and the rest had been destroyed in annoyance that the accidents had occurred. No, he was stuck in this darkness.

"Supreme Leader give me strength," he rasped in his gravelly voice.

 

[Samka Derith]

Location: Gehenna
Objective: 1
Allies: @Orentho @Jude Falkrowe
Archangel: [member="Enyo Typhos"]
Post: 01

The sound of decompressing gas accompanied her every breath in the spacesuit. Movement was awkward and clunky thanks to not just the suit but the difficult terrain she was traversing. Thankfully the gravity was within standard habitual levels or Sam would have almost lost her entire sense of movement, something utterly demoralising for one who prided herself on graceful, fluid movements.

Speaking of habitual, the gravity may well be the only thing on the planet which was. The world was desolate with no sign of water or vegetation anywhere. She couldn't help but wonder what the Supreme Leader would want with a world like this but she would do her duty and she would do it diligently as always. Perhaps there was rare materials or ancient artefacts somewhere on this world. There had to be some information she was not privy too. Sam sighed under her breath wondering when, if ever, she'd become a trusted member of the inner circle and could know the reasons for risking her life. She trusted the goals and methods of her superiors utterly yet it would be nice to be let in the loop.

A sprout of lava erupted from a crack in the volcano side just a few meters away giving the young Knight of Ren pause. She'd chosen this location for the ideal view it presented over the First Order's landing site. The volcano here was one of many covering Gehenna's landscape. She'd scaled across the side and onto a large protruding rock. It didn't feel completely secure but it was big enough for her to use, she just had to be aware that the shifting volcanic geology could send her platform tumbling down the volcano at any moment. As if the magma hadn't presented enough natural hazards.

Grateful for her lightweight, Sam laid flat on her stomach watching the First Order's shuttle land. Reaching into a slot on the back of her spacesuit, Sam pulled out a pair of electrobinoculars which were stored next to her lightsaber. From here she had a perfect view of the gathering to come. She'd been briefed that members of they were members of the Security Bureau and she was there to ensure their mission proceeded smoothly. Whether they knew of her presence was another matter. She was unsure of just how closely the higher ups of the Knights of Ren and First Order's Security Bureau collaborated. Well, Sam remarked internally to herself, I guess we'll see how far their intelligence spreads.

If she'd been sent here, someone higher up must have sensed trouble incoming and, with or without the knowledge of the agents on the ground, had sent her as a back up plan. Sam settled as comfortably as she could on her rock and watched the proceedings take place. Nobody should be aware of her yet, she'd arrived in a stealthy drop pod hours ago and on a planet such as this what was one more dark presence?