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

[Enyo Typhos]

Gehenna
(4)
[member="Orentho"], [member="Jude Falkrowe"]


Archangel's operations on Gehenna were small-scale. They mined diamonds, and trained their organic minions here. Sometimes, they captured monsters and recovered pieces of Bando Gora arcana. Some of the insane cultists' tech had been salvaged. The machine cult liked to keep its operations compartmentalised, which is why the base did not have a processing machine.


In response, Enyo merely shrugged. "I'm afraid it's a less than stellar tourist location, though it might not stop Star Tours from trying," she said in a deadpan tone. Occasionally, she could something that passed for a sense of humour. Who knew, maybe someone would advertise trips to Gehenna as adventure tourism. Or run an edition of Sole Survivor here.


"There's not much of value to see. City is an euphemism, beyond what's left of Bando Gora war factories, temples with bloody altars and the landmarks of the battle. We're set up near an old factory, close to the Temple of Blood. The spot where Kerrigan cast the Bando Gora's Dark Lord into a lava pit and doomed many of her own soldiers is a dark nexus, but not easy to reach." Sometimes, Enyo meditated there. Was that healthy? Probably not. Abaddon was gone, but his voice still echoed.


"I take it you were briefed about Reavers?" The cannibalistic ghouls had long been considered to be nothing more than old spacers' tales, but they very real. "Many are still loose in the caves. Especially in the lowest levels. I hunt there sometimes."

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Location: Red Nebula,
Objective 3: The Times A'Rollin'
People of Interest: [member="Asharad Graush"]
|1|

"We are getting a transmission, sir."
"Right on time, transmit him the coordinates, please."
"Yes, sir."

The Red Nebula was a strange place. A weird one. It was drifting further and further away from the main body of the Galaxy and that had people worried - rightly so, if you asked Darell, because if his home was slowly being pulled away from center with all its convenience shops, he'd be worried too.

Iron Crown had been invested in the Nebula years ago, back when the Fringe had first laid claim to the Unknown Regions as their personal protectorate. And now the R&D group of Saiba, a subsidiary beneath the Iron Crown mantle, was firmly looking for ways to possibly reverse the drift. This would probably not pan out, yet, the Sith Lord in him knew to study every possibility there was, because it allowed you to see the whole perspective.

No, he doubted they would be able to pull the entire freaking system back into the Galaxy proper.

But perhaps they could slow it. Perhaps they could figure start seeding the area in between with boosters, so there would still be a passage way back to the main body of the Galaxy. Perhaps they could convince the denizens of the Red Nebula to move...

Lots of options and according to the projections there would be even more centuries to figure out the issue.

 

[Ria Misrani]

Orentho kept his smile well hidden beneath his enigmatic facade. "War factories," he says it, not question, he's thinking and making mental notes and he looks to his comrade. Mr. Falkrowe and his red eyes do not flicker they do not do anything more than stare into his fellow agent's eyes as if discerning something. "We have no interest in this nexus," rather the FOSB didn't - the Knights of Ren? Maybe. "Tell me, Ms. Typhos - these war factories what became of them?"

And could they possibly retrofit one to the FOSB's needs? Could they dig beneath it and lay hidden beneath the ruins of war. Stay behind the black curtain of death that lingered here. Death's heart seemed beat here, and it was a chamber that Orentho wished to escape. "Thoughts, Mr. Falkrowe?" Orentho asked his demeanor unchanged as he stood there and then surveyed the wasteland before them. Thinking about the possibilities that their superior [member="Sentiri"] could do with this.

​

[member="Enyo Typhos"] | [member="Jude Falkrowe"]​

​

Objective - Gehenna​

 

[Halcyon Greenslade]

Location: En route to patrol sector aboard the Imperial-X class Star Destroyer, Abdicator
Objective 3: Getting on [member="Tanomas Graf"]'s Wild Ride
Post 2

Lieutenant Halcyon Greenslade lead his patrol squad through the seemingly endless corridors comprising the vast star destroyer's interior. The sights seemed to blur together, deck after deck, as he made his way to standard duty prescribed patrol sector - a route taking him winding around the hangar and flight deck sections of the ship. He was unaware yet of the commotion taking place, the pandemonium caused by the dead rising.

"Comm check." He spoke inside his helmet, making sure his comm-link was tooled in properly to their shared internal squad frequency. All nine members of the squad reported back to him, some casual, some professional, and all of them ready, Hal knew. Some might posture to show their ease and familiarity with their stormtrooper profession, but they were all keenly attuned to how disciplined they would be at the right moment. It was a freeing feeling, Hal thought. Being unburdened by psychological constraints such as fear or concern.

Who knew if that psychological conditioning would hold in a moment of abject, sheer terror, such as the fight against the living dead he was soon to face.

He switched to the stormtrooper ship defense control desk frequency, and reported his patrol in position and assuming their mission parameters. He was met with a frantic report, and order to head to the main hangar bay to act as reinforcements. Reinforcements against what, the Lieutenant had no idea.

"We have something. On me, we're double timing it!" Halcyon called to his squad as he picked up the pace into a hard jog towards the hangar.

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Objective 3
Location: Red Nebula
Allies: First Order and friends
Enemies: Zombies
Post: 3/25

"Zombies, oh zombies, where are you?"

"Are you all right?" the Tunroth neophyte asked out in the open, when Dunames was hit with a bowcaster on stun.

"Help..." Dunames said, in a rather raspy and low voice.

"Stay low: zombies can't crouch worth two beans"

In the Tunroth's mind, these zombies are instead willing to torture their targets alive before moving in for their brains, hence their use of stun rounds. Oh they would have loved to eat Jessica or Cathul - if these zombies were anything like the zombies of horror holoflicks. Dunames knew they had pretty big brains and, to zombies, size mattered more than a target's mental conditioning. But the Tunroth got a few zombies stunned when their own blaster bolts are redirected back at them with his lightsaber. So Dunames was forced to admit that, while he may not be that great with Instinctive Astrogation, at least he has some talent with a lightsaber. Probably some Reaver or Marauder, she thought. Just that Dunames was a little angry at that Tunroth because that Tunroth caused the Ultima to be stranded in the Red Nebula among a sea of zombies and with other ships nearby but that she never got around to contacting or identifying.

 

[Zef Halo]

Objective: 1
First Order: [member="Orentho"]
Archangel: [member="Enyo Typhos"]
Post 4


He chuckled for a moment at the woman's sarcasm and the inclusion of a company too well known within First Order territories and beyond. Perhaps there was more to this woman than being cold blooded as most Chiss such as Orentho and especially such as Sentiri. Nonetheless, considering the place they were at currently, Jude certainly could find a better time to ponder about Enyo.

Kerrigan.

The name rang a bell in his head but nothing more and he slightly cursed the fact that he was not long ago a simple tech specialist in a recon detachment of the First Order's Army. The events that had happened here preceded his induction in the Bureau and thus his access to vital information had been nonexistent at that time.

Orentho demonstrated interest in the war factories that Enyo mentioned in the grotesque she painted with her words about the planet. His interest was well on point and Jude figured what the Chiss' thoughts were. Yet, something else he needed to learn more about.

"I share the same interest of those factories but I am not sure that we've asked before." The question that came next was formulated after the mentioning of reavers and hunters. "What do you actually do here ? On such a dead planet." The agent realized they had been slightly wasting time at the same place for a while. "Perhaps, we ought to walk as we talk."

 

[Enyo Typhos]

Gehenna
[member="Orentho"], [member="Jude Falkrowe"]


"The battle was not kind to them, and they haven't been used for ages. Many are infested with creatures. Or spirits with actual bite. I imagine you could rebuild one, if you use an awful amount of money and killed a great many beasts." Firemane had tried to tame this world, and ultimately failed.


You could not tame Gehenna anymore than you could pacify Korriban. "I suppose GA and Outback agents are unlikely to search for weapons projects here. Or you can make prisoners 'disappear' here and interrogate them. I wouldn't use organic labour though. Droids are better." How odd, that she considered herself apart from organics.


"As for what I actually do. I hunt. I learn. My sister conquered this world when the Bando Gora were a power." Many, many years ago. One day, Enyo would kill her. Ideally, it would be a slow, painful death. There was an almost feral glint in her eyes. Abruptly, the Archangel operative seemed to tense, as if a sixth sense had been activated. "A storm is coming," she said with dispassionate serenity.


"Go to your ship or find shelter in the caves." Gehenna sandstorms were massive and this one was going to be particularly awful. They had little time. It was as if some wrathful god had suddenly commanded the elements to unleash their fury, conjuring up tremendous winds.

 

[Asharad Graush]

Location: Red Nebula
Objective 3: contract
People of Interest: @Darrell Irani
Post 4.

"We have the coordinates, My Lord."

There was a nod from A'sharad, and then he took a seat in the passenger compartment.

The Daisya Infiltrator was going towards the meeting grounds, and the Sith merely had to wait. Not much else to draw his attention other than his thoughts, and those always weren't the most entertaining. If only he had more exciting things to do in his life. Like... Killing.

More killing would be great.

Battles.

Wars.

Not visiting a karking Nebula.

And then they were landing where they were supposed to be, because A'sharad didn't know what was going on outside of the ship, for he was enraptured with his own thoughts. And then he was pulled out of them, as if he had been brought back to reality with a mere snap of the fingers.

"My Lord, we've arrived." There was a nod of confirmation, and then he rose up to his feet.

 

[Tanomas Graf]

Post V
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"] | [member="MK-1488"] | [member="Halcyon Greenslade"]

The old man felt a lump of fear in his throat as he witnessed the living dead on the security feed, how could these corpses be walking? The question was saved for a more appropriate time as Graf pressed the big red button on the control console. Loud klaxons sounded throughout the star destroyer and the admiral opened a ship-wide intercom "All personnel! Intruder Alert! Intruder Alert! Evacuate and seal the hangar bays! Troopers are to arm themselves and set up checkpoints starting at the auxiliary hangar bay, a squadron per checkpoint, no exceptions! I want heavy defensive emplacements outside of the hangar bay blast doors!" He barked. Stormtroopers began rushing throughout the hallways and a couple of E-Web turrets were currently being set up outside of the hangar bays.

------

To the horror of the troopers in the hangar bay, the docking tube actually reopened, The dead had apparently learned how to operate the control panel! The tube was now swarming with the corpses, slowly shuffling but as high a threat as ever. It was like a dam rupturing, dozens of them spreading outwards like a deadly puddle in the now open space that was the hangar. A rather unfortunate stormtrooper was cornered by the walking dead, he tried desperately to shoot all of them but was overwhelmed, disappearing behind them, seconds later a stormtrooper rose, added to the ranks of the undead.

The other troopers continued firing as they cautiously backstepped towards the open blast door, where a defensive emplacement had just been installed amidst the chaos. The stormtrooper manning it began to fire conservatively, avoiding blasting his allies while causing the undead he hit to crumple like an autumn leaf. They just needed to get behind that blast door, seal it shut, and they would be trapped in there until they could devise a strategy to clear them up.

But unfortunately, the technicians in their command room were slow to close their blast doors due to a suddenly faulty circuit. The undead, like lava, slowly flowed into this new pathway and the technicians were painfully devoured and turned into a walking corpse. Like clockwork the undead technicians shambled to the control panel and jammed the blast doors open, allowing their brethren to follow the retreating troopers into the ship.

The defensive emplacements along with stormtroopers could hold them for now, but how many of these walking dead will it take before they are overrun and infected themselves?

 

[Rexus Wenck]

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

Rexus turned to the stormtrooper, who grabbed him, and finally regained his composure. "Alright, we stand here, Farris!" he called, "You gutless coward, get back here!" he snarled turning back to the trooper, before hearing the sound of the klaxon. "Or not, I'm out of here!" Lieutenant Wenck yelled, taking some pot shots at the undead who began to clamour out of the docking tube. He ran through the bast doors, and watched as a squad of rookie stormtroopers began setting up E-webs and blaster positions. "Alright boys, we'll hold them here," Rexus called, "But that won't stop 'em." he said, right now his brain was racking all the horror films he'd seen on the holonet.

"What will then?" A squeaky voiced private replied.

"Flamethrowers you moron. Didn't you watch Moon of the Dead Twi'Leks?!"

"My M-mom t-told me I was too young-" the trooper stammered.

"I don't care soldier, I am your lieutenant, and we are moving now!" He called, "Get your poodoo together, because this is a kark fest!"

[member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="MK-1488"] |

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Location: Red Nebula, ICE HQ
Objective 3: The Times A'Rollin'
People of Interest: [member="Asharad Graush"]
|2|

The headquarters of Iron Crown within the Red Nebula was a network of infrastructure in space close-by to the planet itself.

Much of it was leased back to the government of the Nebuleans, shipyards to refit and repair their ships, space to store cargo and even permanent locations for administrative and entertainment purposes. In many ways the construct was a city it and on itself - it was safer, their planet had been bombarded once with asteroids and there had been that little incident centuries ago with their life stones.

No, the Nebuleans had jumped at the chance to split their efforts and ensure that even if something happened with their planet, that a part of their species would still live on.

"Mr. Graush has arrived in Bay 28-C, Darell." Ash piped in maybe five or six minutes after the initial clearance had been given. Irani nodded, looking up from his screen for a moment, before a shrug followed.

"Send him up here, he's with the Order and you know our policy revolving them."

Ash nodded knowingly. "Yessir."

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Objective 3
Location: Red Nebula
Allies: First Order and friends
Enemies: Zombies
Post: 4/25

Dunames was still laying on the ground, where the rest of the security team has finally arrived and collected Dunames' Z-6 to continue the fight and remove the infestation before they could torture, let alone eat, Dunames. The zombies landed one lucky shot at Dunames - that's why she was stunned. Otherwise their marksmanship was even worse than that of non-501st stormtroopers posted on the Death Star. That is, the Tunroth neophyte could easily deflect everything that came in their way without fear of taking hits. But since zombies' bodies were much slower than non-zombies, their rate of fire was a lot slower. That was a very lucky shot for the Wookiee zombies to hit Dunames the way it did. She would recover in time, but as the zombies were swept out, the zombies that remained were shooting without any sense of aim. They put a few dents into the unarmored, fighter-sized tugs... and when she recovers from the stun, Dunames realizes that the gallery is filled with zombies.

"Who left the ventral hangar open? Close the ventral hangar at once!"

"I thought we would be safe back here because the hatch was shielded"

"There is a reason why the ventral hangar is ray-shielded: so that it can still have some protection while tugs or shuttles come in or out"

"Sometimes I question why my master even gave me this solo mission"

 

[Darth Veles]

Location: Abdicator, mess hall
Objective: 3
[member="Sara Lee Jones"], [member="Wolf"], [member="Thomas Kyrel"], [member="Rexus Wenck"], [member="MK-1488"]


Interrupted in their peaceful lunchtime, all heads rose, brows furrowed and lips silently muttered when Graf’s voice boomed through the entire Star Destroyer, setting the ship’s personnel on alert. In an impressive display of discipline imprinted into their minds through rigid training, the men and women within the mess hall rose up from their half-eaten meals and orderly rushed to arm themselves and set tactically-placed checkpoints in easily defended positions, prepared to face this sudden danger. Reminded of his earlier premonitions, Veles stood up as well, one hand concealed beneath his midnight-shaded cloak and grasping the cool hilt of a lightsaber. Its blood-red blade had yet to come to life, weapon still awaiting its reveal – the Imperial Mon Cal paused before rushing off to meet the intruder forces, signs of hesitation mirrored inside his large bulbous eyes.

“You should consider joining one of the checkpoints and bolster their defences,” advised Veles, other hand briefly disappearing inside his cloak and emerging with a heavy blaster pistol, gently placing the weapon on the table, “I’ll take it back when we meet again.”

Due to their sustained injuries, Veles had dismissed them all as non-combatants fit to defend the ship from back lines, if even that, while his role lied with the frontal defence positions. Nothing would stand a chance against a Sith Lord – so he believed. Without any further ado, the amphibious man spun on his heel, abandoning the crippled trio, and marched outside, pace urgent as he passed through several heavily armed nests in making, feeling death and darkness eating away the Star Destroyer from its hanger. For a moment, the Croa came to his mind, but such explanation was absurd, no matter how much this oily smudge in the Force reminded him of their plague. Each step equalled getting closer to the Dark Side’s disturbing concentration, death and disease filling the Force like powerful poisons. Still, after rounding many corners and crossing more suddenly depopulated hallways, Veles knew little about what awaited him.

Screams and sounds of blaster fire ricocheted through the nearby areas. Upon arrival and witnessing the undead horde, his amber orbs blinked twice, realization about his accuracy concerning the Croa hitting him, before unleashing his lightsaber’s red fury upon them, hilt tossed into their midst and spinning like a death-dealing, telekinetically controlled scythe. It carved through three in their front line, immediately replaced by more before his lightsaber even completed its flight and returned to his cybernetic hand. Knowing the danger from his time among the Black Rose and their twisted experiments, the Sith Lord realized the importance of keeping his distance, ruling out the possibility of safe and effective melee combat.

“Retreat to the next hallway, lock the door!” He barked at the surviving troops and threw his lightsaber at the undead again to briefly slow their advance.

 

[Wolf]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=vClu9SCxHhI​

Post 4
Objective 3
Location: Imperial-X Star Destroyer Abdicator
[member="Sara Lee Jones"] | [member="Thomas Kyrel"] | [member="Darth Veles"] | [member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="MK-1488"]

First came the Force. It struck him like a hammer against his skull, it deafened his senses as he could feel an overpowering sensation of a nearing menace, murky and sinister. Death. And then came the klaxons, everyone stopping whatever it was they were doing to listen to the voice of [member="Tanomas Graf"] across the intercoms. Intruders? Wolf reached out with the Force and could feel an overpowering emotion from the hangar. Fear. He watched as [member="Darth Veles"] got to his feet, telling them to man the back lines. Wolf acted as though Veles' words were directed to [member="Sara Lee Jones"] and [member="Thomas Kyrel"], looking towards them and nodding. "You heard him." Wolf would not be left to cower in the back while others were in danger, even if he was in less than optimal condition.

Wolf moved to follow behind Veles, but soon found he could not keep up with the Mon Calamari's pace in his hoverchair. He thumbed down furiously at the forward button on the chair, and growled in annoyance as Veles' figure grew further into the distance in the corridor, and stormtroopers hurriedly ran past him. One turned to look at him, "Uhh, sir, I suggest you go back. They are setting up defences there which you can bolster-" Wolf ignored him, his thumb obstinately pressed down on the forward button as his hoverchair moved past him and lurched down the corridor as fast as it would go, which was about equivalent to a brisk walk. It was not really built for high speed situations. The trooper who had spoken to him earlier kept up with his pace, speaking to him as they moved down the corridor, sirens wailing and other troopers rushing past them. "Sir, I don't know who you are, but I'm sorry you will only be a hindrance-" Crimson blade snap-hissed to life from Wolf's hand as he drew his lightsaber. The trooper immediately fell silent as he watched the unstable blade spit and snarl.

The hoverchair-riding Knight of Ren drew confidence from his ancient blade, holding it out at his side, pointing forwards, parallel to the ground, as though he were in some jousting tournament for the disabled. Irritated with the speed of his hoverchair, he willed it to move faster, the Force gathering around him as he pushed the hoverchair and himself faster through the corridor telekinetically. These intruders had chosen the wrong ship to board. The troopers who had hurried past him now turned in surprise as the hoverchair and its occupant hurtled past them. His hair blew with the breeze, his eyes closed as the Dark Side whirled around him. He realised that he was likely being rather foolish, but one could either fully commit or cower in the back while others died, and he was not going to accept the latter. A thought entered his mind that the drugs flowing through his body to numb his pain might have something to do with his rash behaviour, but he dismissed it as soon as it came.

It was then he could hear screaming and the sound of blasters as he neared where the action was happening. It was as he sped around a corner that he opened his eyes and saw them in the distance of the long corridor. A mass of ghoulish-looking foes, it was almost as though they were walking corpses. Many sported stormtrooper armor, though Wolf did not have time to think about what this could all mean as his hoverchair hurtled through the corridor towards them. He was reunited with Darth Veles for a moment, speeding past him as he seemed to be... retreating? Hang on, were all the troopers retreating into the previous hallway? He had no time to slow down as his hoverchair sped past the troopers, the blast doors shutting behind him with a hiss and click.

Wolf had managed to keep it down for so long, but all of a sudden he felt a pang of dread as he found himself speeding towards the creatures in front of him. Alone. There was no turning back now as his hoverchair whirred and ripped along the corridor towards the mass of creatures that grew larger and larger. Now was not the time for fear. He yelled out loud in defiance to any suggestion that this may have been a fatal mistake, his arm held forward as his crimson lightsaber blade held steady in front of him. Whether it was courage or the drugs that numbed his better senses, he growled as he neared the crowd of undead, adrenalin pumping through his veins with anticipation.

The crimson lightsaber roared and spat as it cut through rotting flesh and bone. The Knight of Ren carved through the mass of walking corpses, moving at such speed the undead were unable to catch a hold of him. He could not keep up the speed of his hoverchair for much longer, his energy draining as he slogged through the mass of living carcasses. What were these things? As his hoverchair slowed down, he pushed down on a control and span around, thrashing wildly left and right, cutting through the surrounding undead to make space for himself. He continued to push down on the 'left' button, his hoverchair spinning around as he held his lightsaber outwards, the undead surrounding him and closing in on him. One lurched at him, and he had to stop spinning as his arm shot forward to stab the creature through the skull as it fell on him, the Knight of Ren coughing in disgust as he pushed the corpse off of him, catching wind of the putrid smell. The creatures surrounded him, groaning as they limbered forward towards him, saliva drooling from their mouths as they lavished the thought of their next meal.

 

[Ria Misrani]

They were not in a position to return to the landing platforms, no. "To the caves Mr. Falkrowe, lest Gehenna end us both here and now - and as much as I despise my wife, I wouldn't dream of letting her gloat over my death on this Ascendancy forsaken planet." He moved behind Ms. Typhos and rapidly said, "we're not so much looking to secure an entire factory as we are merely parts of one, room enough to hold out on for a few days if necessary." He trusted their guide and moved along to get to shelter. "If I may be as so bold," his voice and tone hadn't changed even if he had been quickening his pace and his words were a little more put together.

"As to ask you, where your outpost is, it seems suicidal to attempt anything on our own given our severe lack of knowledge of this planet," he's good on his feet and careful where he steps, "and it would provide us as the security arm of the First Order an opportunity to deepen our relationship with your company." Orentho pauses he hasn't moved this fast since before, well, before the birth - no wait, there was that time on Hoth where he was outrunning an exploding rebel base, "as I recall, Lady Brentioch and her honorable Grand Moff worked to secure some form of contract with your company, Archangel."

"We can pass along any details to our manager," their deputy director [member="Sentiri"] to be exact, "that you wish to add in exchange for assisting us- well, yes, assisting us in locating a proper spot to call our own."

[member="Enyo Typhos"] | [member="Jude Falkrowe"]​

Objective Gehenna​

 

[Sara Lee Jones]

She perked up as she looked as the comm came over, she felt something dark....it was probably just adrenaline coming through her veins, she was in no use to fly so she reached for that heavy blaster with one hand as she looked at it, and so she got a weapon she was crap with shooting....she'd put a storm trooper to shame with her inaccuracy

She looked to [member="Thomas Kyrel"] as she was left with him now as she sighed" alright well let's get going" she said and stood as she started in a brisk pace to the first checkpoint, men running past her in all white armor, she got closer and closer as she got a dreadful feeling, she stopped as she looked down the corridor just as the blast doors were closing, she couldn't believe her eyes...those troopers had guts hanging from them limbs hanging by muscles and...and black liquid coming from them" she raised her blaster as she shook and didn't fire watching the door close, she moved back slowly and started to a sprint to the second checkpoint...she'd likely pass [member="Thomas Kyrel"] again
Post 4

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Objective 3
Location: Red Nebula
Allies: First Order and friends
Enemies: Zombies
Post: 5/25

When the smoke clears and the zombies are taken care of, Dunames suspects that the neophyte's service has been mostly ground-based. But never the thought of taking over the training said neophyte crossed her mind: she was not qualified to train Force-sensitives, let alone in the dark side of the Force. All she could possibly teach them would be, well, piloting-related. As the ventral hangar was closing, Dunames couldn't help but ponder exactly where did these zombies come from. Meanwhile, the Tunroth neophyte collected Dunames, escorted by a few of the ships' security guards. That plan was a bad plan to begin with: we could have bottlenecked them at the entrance of the hangar, she thought. Now the opinion of that neophyte deteriorated in Dunames' mind. The security team began piling up the zombies but the zombies were mostly where they started when they boarded the ship. Where is Lord Veles when we need him?, she thought.

"Zombies have been routed, captain"

"Good. Now if someone could contact those other ships stranded in the Red Nebula, maybe we could save them"

"And return me to them, if you could" the neophyte told.

"I'll return back to the bridge"

 

[Halcyon Greenslade]

Location: Auxiliary Hangar Bay aboard the Imperial-X class Star Destroyer, Abdicator
Objective 3: Hold back the living dead!
Allies: [member="Rexus Wenck"], [member="MK-1488"], [member="Rolf Amsel"], First Order Personnel
Post 3

Lieutenant Greenslade and his squad of stormtroopers arrived at the auxiliary hangar, intending to push on to the primary hangar bay, just in time to hear the voice of Admiral [member="Tanomas Graf"] over the ship's intercom system. The order to evacuate and seal the hangar blast-doors behind them. His mind raced with excitement at the sound of the klaxons, and he felt a rush in his bones. The flow of adrenaline was almost intoxicating, and he felt as though he could literally take on the galaxy - alongside his troopers. The naivete of youthful invulnerability coupled with his psychological conditioning kept him from questioning the decided lack of self-preservation that came with the next command he issued out to his stormtroopers.

"We don't dig in, we press forward!" It was a favorite motto of shock infantry within the stormtrooper legions. Those units that favored high mobility and agility.

He gave his troops a quite theatrical hand signal, motioning them forward to the main hangar at the same expedited pace. The squad emerged shortly after, on the other side of the blast doors and facing a foe he had never dreamed of. Blaster bolts rained forth from the stormtroopers already gathered on his side of the sprawling hangar. Some seemed fazed by their attackers, others seemed entirely in command of their faculties.

"Identify and destroy targets!" He called out to his troops from inside his helmet as he raised his own blaster rifle. Reflexively taking aim down the scoped sight he let off a sustained burst of fire, mostly to show courage under adverse conditions to his squad-mates, as well as to raise the morale of any wavering stormtroopers around him.

 

[Jaster Awaud]

Post: 1
Objective: 3 Meet up with CW Venture
[member="Tanomas Graf"] [member="Zee"]

A Star Destroyer exited hyperspace just outside the edge of the Red Nebula before them now. Atop the bridge with his metallic hands behind him, stading and staring through the thick windows before him. This was Governor Jaster Awaud, and his Flagship of the Trade Conglomerate, and he was on business. He was to escort a Commonewealth ship through the Nebula making jumps to uninhabited planets all the way to Conglomerate Prime. The nature of the mission was too secrete even to the highest branches of the military, thus the reason a governor was here and not a military officer. He just hoped the confines of the Top Secrete crate was not opened.

A man stationed at the Navigation post looked over to Jaster and saluted, "Sir, there seems to be a faint destress signal located near the rally point." He lowered his salute and turned back to his station.

Jaster didn't look at the man, he heard him, thus he responded, "Are there any Imperial Ships in the area that will respond."

The sailor didn't turn around, just responded, "Yes sir, it's hard to get a reading, but there seems to be a Mark Ten Imperial Star Destroyer near the distress signal."

Jaster broke his gaze and looked at the Navigations Officer, then slowly back to his original gaze. The distress signal may be the Commonwealth ship he was to meet with, if it was, it was the most dangerous ship in the secotor. "Send a message to CW Venture if you can, we are 2 hours out, as for the Star Destroyer, send a coded message to stay away from the distress signal, orders straight from high command and the Supreme Leader, a white lie may save their lives." He needed to return to captaining the ship, "Helmsman, all ahead half speed, heading 325 by 033 by 22, sensor range at minimal to increase the reading, I don't want to scratch the new paint sailor."

A loud erupting "YES SIR!" as the sailors followed their orders without fail. Jaster ran a tight ship, these men and we mon were veterans of the Unknown Region and knew what they were doing. They moved on to the Nebula before them as it engulfed the ship in its red hue.

 

[Darth Caecus]

The Red Nebula
Dead Space
Post 4/20
Star Wars Z

She wasn't expecting a reply right away, if she got one at all. Limping across the cockpit, the petite woman laid her hands on the dash, frowning. Commonwealth weaponry was not built for anything like this. She looked over the small arsenal she'd managed to put together. Either close range and little stopping power, or long range and awesome stopping power. She needed close range and awesome stopping power.

Maybe when this was over, she'd put in a request.

The message from the more distant star destroyer came through as she was finishing getting ready. Two hours? Yeah, no. She wasn't waiting around for them. There was another ship attached to hers and she'd be damned if she was going to sit here politely.

Absently shoving an extra M99 in to the waist band of her pants she turned toward the security feed. Most of the movement on the ship was converging toward where the two ships had docked. But a couple of her dead comrades were still between her and the way out.

Fortunately, she wasn't attached to any of them.