First Order: Beyond Darkness [Dominion of Rakata Beta]

[Valessia Brentioch]

Theme: Rogue One, Opening Crawl

A LONG TIME AGO IN A GALAXY FAR FAR AWAY...





STAR WARS
BEYOND DARKNESS





THE FIRST ORDER CONTINUES THEIR EXPANSION THROUGHOUT THE UNKNOWN REGIONS. THEIR EYES ARE SET ON RAKATA BETA, A FORMER COLONY WORLD OF THE RAKATAN INFINITE EMPIRE. ONCE HOME TO THE GREATER INFINITE EMPIRE, AND NOT SO LONG AGO - THE LORDS OF THE FRINGE. INDUSTRIALIST AND FIRST ORDER AMBASSADOR VALESSIA BRENTIOCH ALONG WITH FORMER COMMONWEALTH GENERAL GUNTHER CREED LEAD THE WAY ONTO THE TROPICAL WORLD WITH THE HOPES OF CLAIMING IT FOR THE ORDER.

MEANWHILE. UNDERWORLD ELEMENTS HAVE SET FOOT IN THE CAPITAL OF RAKATA BETA, INFINITE CITY. THE FIRST ORDER'S SECURITY BUEARU AGENTS HAVE BEEN TASKED TO CLEAR THEM OUT OR DEAL WITH THEM HOWEVER THEY WISH. HAVING GONE SO FAR AS TO HIRE INDEPENDENT AGENTS TO ENSURE THAT THE FIRST ORDER WOULD BE ABLE TO SETTLE ON THE PLANET, PEACEFULLY.

ELSEWHERE, THE KNIGHTS OF REN SET DOWN ON RAKATA BETA WITH THE HOPES OF UNCOVERING THE LOST SECRETS OF THE INFINITE EMPIRE, WHILE OTHERS SEEK TO RECLAIM THE GLORY THAT WAS THE LORDS OF THE FRINGE. UNBEKNOWNST TO THEM ALL - A RADICAL SECT OF RAKATANS LAY IN WAIT FOR THE FIRST ORDER AND THEIR IMPERIALS...

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[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=aQ3poU70uIE[/media]

"How long?" Captain Sturgeon asked as he stood aboard the Executrix-class vessel, hands clasped behind his back. Looking over his shoulder and down toward the alcove that housed the flight controllers. "Ensigns." His voice was still calm, it hadn't been a terribly long journey from Dosuun just a tedious one. Behind the Ree was Task Force 23 along with portions of the First Order's Exploration Command group. All lined up, streaming down the all too familiar blue of hyperspace - awaiting their arrival to the planet known as Rakata Beta.The future site of the First Order's expansion, site of the future Joint Military Base Ysanne Isard - it would be their greatest triumph. A massive base to house the navy, the army and their starfighter corps along with their auxiliary forces such as the First Imperial Medical Services, First Order Corps of Imperial Engineers, First Order Division of Science and more. Captain Rudolf Sturgeon, a man of some renown through his battles, most recently Castameer. He served alongside Admiral Yvarro and watched as her ship the Rae Sloane burned with a fiery Imperial rage.

"We'll be in realspace over Rakata Beta within the hour, sir."

"Good, notify the Ambassador and the Gen- Colonel, please."

Elsewhere on the Ciena Ree...

Brentaalian Industrialist, Noble and Ambassador Valessia Brentioch stood in a conference room flanked by military men and women, along with members of the diplomatic corps. "Here opposite the Red Ocean, to the north. There's an archipelago there, we can establish our base here." She points out the location on the holomap, "I'll leave the development of the actual base to you." Directing her gaze toward [member="Gunther Creed"] and other prominent members of the military. She gave Gunther a small smile, it pleased her to see him in a First Order military uniform. Her smile dissipated as she turned her attention toward members of the diplomatic corps, "if we're going to talk with the Rakatans, we're going to have to know them. I understand that someone is trying to make contact with them and Iron Crown Enterprises, as well?"

"We have, although we've received nothing from Iron Crown Enterprises..."

"We will consider them another time then, but for now the Rakatans. They have a mandate of destiny, and so we should do our best to understand that and understand how they view themselves and their place in the galaxy." Valessia continued after hearing from someone regarding ICE. "They view themselves as the force's gift to the galaxy and perhaps at one point in history that was true, but it is no longer - however, we would do well to stroke their ego and utilise the loyalists."

Another member of the diplomatic corps spoke up, "agreed. We make these, loyalists - well, we place them in charge over the others. As for, ICE. A little competition wouldn't hurt? Granted, we'll want full access to the primary Industrial yard."

The room fell silent for the moment, as Valessia changed the holographic view to Infinite City. "We can mark off this for ourselves, clear out any debris and install our own shipyard. No doubt the military base will be housing a great deal." Her gaze shifted toward members of the military once more.

Near the hangars...

The Knights of Ren were gathered, readying themselves for departure as the nature of their mission came to be revealed. They were seeking the mysteries of the Greater Infinite Empire and the lost lore of the Lords of the Fringe and whatever else it was that this planet had to offer them.

 

[Gunther Creed]

​FIV-Ciena Ree, Rakata Beta
​Conference Room...

​It felt good to be back in uniform.

​The massive epicanthix stood in a crisp black officers uniform complete with knee high black boots and a pair of black gloves. The markings of a full colonel were on the sleeves, as well as the collar. A slick black holster sat clasped to his side bearing an SE-44C blaster pistol and somewhere hidden within those boots a vibroknife was strapped. After the chaotic collapse of the previous nation Gunther had found himself unemployed again. It felt good, no it felt right to be back in a military uniform again. The black and relatively Spartan design of the uniform had reminded him of his days serving in the One Sith, and Old Sith Empires where blacks and greys were the standard colors for officers uniforms. Despite being a noble he was not fond of anything overtly flashy, he'd only tolerate a dress uniform simply because it was protocol to wear at certain formal events. Gunther was an soldier first and a noble by birth, and it was clearly obvious from his powerful warrior musculature which he identified with most.

The Iceman stood out head and shoulders above the other gathered officials in the conference room for his significant height and size difference in comparison to the others. Epicanthix were always a taller, powerfully muscled species and when measured up against others it clearly showed. But despite his brutish appearance everything about him screamed that there was more than meets the eye to this officer. Gunther stood with his hands clasped behind him taking in the discussion all around him. The First Order came to bring Rakata Beta into their fold, but their arrival wasn't heralded by the weapons of war, but the smooth voices and silver tongues from men and women of the diplomatic corps. The Rakatan people were some of the oldest and most well known in the galaxy, with their Infinite Empire once reaching far across the stars unlike any other. However in this day and age they were a shadow of their former selves, their glory fallen silent like the ruins that dotted the surface of their worlds. But despite it all they endured. They were strong, stubborn, steeped in religion and war.

They needed to be prepared.

Always expect the unexpected when it came to diplomacy with these kind of people, always prepare for the inevitability of war and if chaos did break out between the indigenous peoples and their new overlords then the casualty rates would be far lower. The Colonel returned [member="Valessia Brentioch"] light smile with one of his own, he was definitely glad that he listened to her words that ultimately brought him back into uniform. "The Rakata historically are a savage, cruel, arrogant race. History suggests that during all efforts on the surface a strong military presence is needed as a deterrence to such violence from the indigenous peoples."

 

[Zmej Ren]

Location: En route to Rakata Beta
Objective: 1
Post: 1


[SIZE=10pt]Adding every harvestable piece of powerful weaponry or ancient technology into the First Order’s ever growing arsenal became a priority for the Ren, launching their hunts across the galaxy. Some pursued the greater good, others wished to further their personal goals and climb the hierarchal ladder. Zmej Ren sought both. Strengthening the First Order and the Supreme Leader was a given – none could question the disciple’s genuine desire to do that. Seeing her burning passion when she charged the enemy and hunted down anyone who dared to speak against their beloved leader proved her fiery devotion unquestionable. Of course, there was also that purely selfish lust for fame, admiration, power, perfection. As most young people, Zmej did not lack ambition, relentlessly searching for ways to eternally burn her name into history books, determined to settle for nothing less than standing right next to Maximilian Veers and other decorated heroes of the Empire. Not as Zmej Ren, but Asenath Parnell. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Rakatan relics were considered dangerous, yet infinitely powerful. Legendary objects often used in old tales predating both Jedi and Sith. Death and eternal suffering often met those who sought such precious items, but the few who managed to control the mysteries stored within often ascended far above their station. The moment she heard of the possibility to seize a Rakatan artifact, Zmej knew she could stop at nothing to claim it and bring it before the Supreme Leader. Even though the idea of using it herself had crossed her mind, the girl dismissed it as a treacherous notion. Only Sieger Ren, in his infinite wisdom, had the right to wield such terrible power. [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]The blonde disciple truly just wanted to be the one to deliver it.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Like a pitch black shadow, the disciple of Ren emerged from within the ship’s maze-like halls and entered the hanger, caught in the process of putting on her helmet right when her body passed the doorframe. The seventeen year old preferred it like this – anonymous, hidden from the outside world behind an expressionless mask. As her golden hued eyes gazed through the visor, Zmej spied on the assembled Ren and several squads of stormtroopers to work side by side in securing their new property. Large transport ships already purred in anticipation, ready to swallow the tiny sentients and get them to surface. Seeing them like this filled her chest with pride and anticipation, knowing prestige awaited those brave enough to grasp this opportunity at bringing powerful artifacts back home. The robed figure oozed self-assurance as she marched up to the nearest group, freshly built cross shaped lightsaber dangling from her belt like an oversized toy.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“Are you ready?”[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt] Zmej’s distorted voice questioned the nearest officer, a rough, broad shouldered man clad in crisp uniform bearing the First Order’s elegant design. The Force revealed confidence surrounding his form. Many hearts in the hanger burned with excitement, eagerness to succeed. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]Just like her.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“Yes, sir,”[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt] the man nodded, offering a salute, [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]“Captain Greene. Me and my men are ready to assist.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10pt]“Excellent, captain,”[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt] she returned the nod, smiling under the helmet despite the fact he could not see that, [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]“Then let’s not waste any time. The Supreme Leader himself will be paying close attention to those who distinguish themselves.”[/SIZE]

 

[Hansen]

Agent Totallex
FIV-Ciena Ree Ventral Hanger

Lex sits in her X-wing's cockpit with the canopy up and Lowie makes a series of beeping noises. "Rakata Beta, the natives are quite charming apparently." Though she is being sarcastic, her voice remains quite serious and dry. The rotund shape astromech droid makes a happy series of chirps, as he brings up data available on Rakata Beta and then makes a frightened whistle. Lex chuckles at the droid. "Don't worry, I won't let them hurt you. I need you to stay with the ship anyway." Lex stands clad in a suit of what would appear to be a matte black Stormtrooper Armour but is so much more in reality. The Agent leaps down from cockpit to Hanger floor and examines the contents of the small open mouth on the ventral surface of the fighter; A cargo hold filled with consumables and other supplies. "Everything looks good, blasters; check, food; check; field equipment; check."

 

[Quin Leeman]

Spoiler

Location: hanger bay, FIV-CIENA REE
objective 4, protect the CIENA REE
friends, first order.
Enemies: none, yet
Post #1

Quin sat quietly on a weapons tote in the hanger bay a few yards from his Tie/in fighter. he continued to polish his flight helmet while thinking of the events that lead him here. the last couple of months were full of excitement and terror. fighting, winning, and loosing. dying and living. his last post was aboard the Pax Imperious stationed to Kaeshana during the "rebellion" and the attempt to quell it. A Rebellion was a poor choose of a name, blood bath was more fitting. both side ruthlessly butchering each other. Quin barley made it out alive and was transferred to another post, The Ciena Ree. A Executrix-class star-destroyer, it was Hugh, with it's down side being the small amount of weapons. But that should not be needed for the mission that it was serving today. a simple Annexation the high brass said, Quin wanted to believe it too. After Kaeshana he needed a quiet mission this time around. he was lucky to be on the Ciena Ree, assigned to a new fighter squad. when he escaped the battlefield on Kaeshana, he was transferred from ship to ship before ending it up here. he didn't know where his only squad mates were shipped of too, if they all survived that hell.

the Ciena made it's way to Rakata Beta, a planet of some sort of importance to the First order. the top brass of the ship where to negotiate the creation of one of the biggest joint military bases the FO ever saw, hosting the Army, Navy and Starfighter corps. all it one base. including this planet would increase First Order resources too allowing for an expanse in naval or armored vehicles. but one thing Quoin did not understand was why the knights of Ren accompanied them? but that was not of his concern. they spent most of their time looking for strange Artifacts and powers anyways.

​there was one thing that Quin hated about traveling thru light speed on a bigger ship, lack of flying. normally if he was stationed on a security/patrol vessel he would have training flights out in space to keep him and his squad in shape. but going thru light speed, impossible. so he spent most of his time either in the in the galley or the training room. but when doing neither he tidied up his Ceremonial uniform and flight suit, which was what he was wearing now. the Ciena was soon going to enter normal space above Rataka Beta soon. the whole ship was ready incase of something going wrong. when they finally did enter normal space all seemed calm. for now. his orders where to be on stand by for now. another pilot walk up to him saying "you really think this is going to be over without a fight?" ​Quin looked up from the helmet ​"no, our enemy just has not shown his face yet, soon though there will be more fighting that you want." ​hoping he was lying to both the other pilot and himself.

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Objective: Build a spaceport in an industrial area
Allies: First order
Enemies: Unknown
Post: 1/20

After a few weeks safely away from the commotion along the GA-First Order border, it feels good for Dunames to be in First Order-land once again. She has stayed a few weeks on Mindabaal, getting the reconstruction of its main spaceport started, after hosting and competing in a charity podrace held for the victims of the devastation on Mindabaal, which remained off the galactic radar for so long. When the Ultima made its reversion back to realspace, over Rakata Beta, she realized what opportunities Star Tours could exploit: the history of the Infinite Empire, the reconstruction of its cargo spaceport, to name the main ones. She assembled her executive crew for the big, special projects, usually conducted alongside other First Order operations. Merrily, Virginie, to name the main people (well, as long as Dunames could consider Merrily to be a person even though she was a WA-7 protocol droid) associated with such projects.

"Listen up: I do not want a repeat of Hoth, Jiroch-Reslia or Quintas, understood?"

"What are we here for anyway?" Virginie asked.

"The construction of a spaceport in an industrial area: this planet has been bottlenecked by its transportation infrastructure for too long!"

"Boss, we're on final approach for Rakata Prime" Merrily announced.

 

[Jarven Zexxel]

​

*Ting*

The coin was propelled upwards. It flipped over and over and over as physics danced before his eyes.

*Slap*

The coin landed in his hand. The sound was that of a hard metal surface meeting synth skin. Jarven continued flipping the coin as he contemplated inwardly.

*Ting*

The action.

*Slap*

The reaction.

Never one without the other.

*Ting*

The Infinite Empire. Once time king of the galaxy. It's original inhabitants were old af truly superior once upon a dream. In the 34,400+ years wake of the "Celestials", various sentients had long since come together on Rakata Beta and decided to become pretenders; to emulate such an impressive civilization. It was mere crude imitation, truly.

*Slap*

The First Order. The Haymaker of the Outer Rim. It's inhabitants were tempered with dedication and power and forged by the flame of conflict both sweetly victorious and bitterly defeated. Their time was now, but only so long as the blaze stayed strong.

*Ting*

The ruling government of Rakata Beta was now a stagnant beast riddled with jealousy, selfishness and alienation. They cling to their precious things that fill them with self-importance: their relics, their slaves, their Mandate of Destiny written by their people; for their people.

*Slap*

The First Order was here, now, and they weren't leaving empty handed. They were coming as a unified force to be recognized, not some envoy to be dismissed (or even enslaved as these Rakata Betans were wont to do). The First Order, while lacking in the liberal arts, had a strong vision that resonated with many loyal. It was this vision that brought so many from different walks of life to come together and accomplish "the dream" with max efficiency from all the angles: overtly, covertly, diplomatically, militaristically, etc.

The interior blacked out and the low-light "preps" flicked on. ​

​

The coin, held in his hands, reflected red.​

​

It was time to go to work.​

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____________________________________________________________​

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The hiss of pneumatics.​

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The rush of air.​

​

The sensation of free falling.​

​

Jarven was a dark spot in the sunny sky; barely noticeable to the average citizens going about their lives in Infinite City. Once, sky diving would have brought on terrible anxiety. Now, Jarven felt the most free when he was allowed to fly through the sky. Before he came within danger distance of the city's traffic, he activated his grav chute and directed his slow descent towards the entertainment district. As he descended towards heavy traffic, his fingers flew in rapid sequence to interact with the integrated slicer gear in his suit's systems. He enacted a simple auto pilot redirect pulse hack to all speeders within 100 meters of him, allowing him safe access to the ground below as speeders redirected and swerved to avoid him.

Despite the odd and/or looks of suspicion that he got from the numerous passersby on the street he touched down on, Jarven strode forward to the next objective; non-plussed by the attention. He interacted with the map in his HUD to pull up directions to the nearest cantina. The FOSB, combined with Jarven's technical know-how, was more than a match for slicing to obtain Infinite City's complete, official layout. It wasn't long before he pulled up the address for the Rikki Ikki Ack Bar cantina and was making his way downtown.

 

[Maurice Dalton]

Post One.
Location: Hyperspace.
Enroute to Rakata Beta.

"Approximately six minutes until reversion to real space, Commissioner Dalton."

There was a faint nod of his head as he guided the stylus in his hand across the holotable. A moment after that, he was dragging a portion of a drawing from one corner, and then combining it to the next. His movements were slow, his brows furrowed as if he were deep in thought. It was evident that the Commissioner had barely registered the announcement and had only nodded his head because it was deemed necessary of him.

"The Chiss... Says it'll work," he whispered lowly to himself before he rose up from behind his table.

Walking around it, he spun his diagram around with him.

"Only one component is missing..." And it was evident in the diagram, with the ever present gap, begging to be filled with... Something.

"What is it, Sir?"

"A power pack, of course."

 

[Kriel Firin]

Objective #1
Post 1+0
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=ZX0mcases4M

The First Order were heading to Rakata Beta. It was a former colony world that the First Order no doubt saw as a strategic asset due to its shipyards and its industrial base. The military were already on the way – in fact all three arms were en route. No doubt they were looking to build a major joint military base.

And there were politicians here too. Her surmised they were here to help the negotiations (which would no doubt be smoothed by the massive armada that was exiting hyperspace) and to ensure the industries were running at full capacity. Order was key to the expansion of the empire but efficiency came a close second.

And whereas the first two elements were public – not that you could hide a fleet even if you wanted, the Knights were here in their usual stealth mode. Small groups in covert missions. Kriel’s role was to ensure that any Disciples that wanted to participate in what he considered little more than a treasure hunt but returned unscathed and did not reveal the existence of the Knights or Ren.

Like most baby-sitters, there was always an element of cleaning up to be done.

 

[Perth Levov]

Objective #1
Post 1+1

Perth’s list had taken a back seat for some time – learning and practising had taken much of her time of late. But there were many references in her copied notebook about the Ancient Rakata – and she had researched them sufficiently to understand they relied upon Force-powered technology to conquer many worlds.

It seemed the Rakata's rise to power was fuelled by advanced devices that married the Force to high technology. They did not see the Force and technology as being concepts at odds with one another and had even built self-aware machines powered in part by Force energies.

And according to her notes – as long as she had copied and deciphered them correctly – there was a
temples on the planet the First Order were currently occupying. She was not expecting to find a Star Map – or if she did, it would be nothing more than a museum piece. But who knew what they might find? Many of the Rakata technologies were powered by dark side energies with the ensuing risk of corruption. If this was indeed a treasure hunt, it was a dangerous game – as the hunters might end up being the prey.

So she was tagging along with Kriel Firin - plus any other Disciples that showed an interest - to see what might be there to see.

 

[Jarven Zexxel]

​

It was almost too easy to hack an entry onto the public transportation. All it took was some short surveillance to scan and figure out the burst signal code that every bus pass holder was privy to, some time to ready up that code and then he was speeding along from the comfort and safety of public transportation. Well, he wasn't safe from the nervous glances he got. It wasn't often that fully armored men were seen by civilians. Although there was no legal action to take against a person for the sole reason of looking intimidating, this didn't stop sheeple from fantasizing about what dark deeds such a person could be planning that very day.

Eventually, he let off at the bus stop nearest to his destination. He had to walk through a smaller market square before reaching the Rikki. As he passed by stalls and merchants trying to sell their wares, a particular Cathar merchant saw him and proclaimed loudly; clamoring for his attention,

"Kha'jit have wares, if you have coin!"

This, of course, brought looks from some people. If he had been on the bus, this attention wouldn't have mattered. Here, where he was fringing on the underworld and so close to his destination, suspicious activity (such as striding expeditiously towards the Rikki cantina) would likely come back to bite him. In an attempt to assuage suspicion, he stopped and looked at Kha'jit's wares. He slipped out his large coin from earlier and traded it for a bag of ball bearings. After completing the transaction, he sauntered over to the Rikki Ikki.

____________________________________________________________​

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​

A nice, cool atmosphere greeted Jarven as he stepped inside the Rikki Ikki. To his left was a bar with a very elaborate, Rube Goldberg looking contraption meant for concocting and dispensing drinks. To his right lay a long lineup of Pachinko gambling machines. Directly in front of him lay a large amount of booths, tables and a stage whose curtains were currently closed. It wasn't too busy here, but good cantinas were never dead.

He analyzed the people here and how they reacted to him. Some stared, some quickly averted their gaze. Some snorted in derision whilst others simply did not care. Yet, there was one particular being that had decided to continually avert their gaze since he first laid eyes on Jarven. He walked over to that little green man and sat in the booth seat in front of him.

"Yes and how may I help you today, sir?" said the little man almost boredly, still averting his gaze.

"You look like a man who knows a lot..." replied Jarven.

"That's because I am, sonny Jim. More than YOU know, anyway."

"Then, I believe you are an infochant."

"So wise. Yes, it is I. Babidi the Infochant." He half-heartedly raised his small arms up to the ceiling as a gesture of sarcasm. He lowered them and said, "Usually, people would have already started asking questions. Odd that you've come in search of answers only to be delayed by your own intelligence..."

Jarven remained cool.

"I do have questions for you. What's the---?" before he could finish his question, Babidi held up a hand and interrupted.

"There is the matter of my info fee beforehand. You see, I know what I'm worth and you?...I don't know you."

(It was at this time that Ryan pulled the right trigger for a Renegade Interrupt action)

Jarven's hands slammed down on the table forcefully, causing Babidi to jump a little.

"You listen to me and you listen well, Babs. I am a Gank. Mercenary work has been in my blood as long as I have lived and in the blood of my ancestors for millennia. I know how the infochant business works. I am NOT some tourist for you to jerk around with high prices and cheap promises. I will decide whether your information is worthwhile to me and I will pay generously if it is. I am here for a strong reason and if your money grubbing ideology stands in my way, I'll find one of the many other infochants in this city who are more than willing to be accommodating for a man as dangerous as me."

Babidi's mouth remained open in shock. Slowly, after Jarven was finished speaking, he closed his mouth and quietly contemplated his position. Soon, he spoke up.

*Gulp* "...What do you want to know?...."

"That's better...Now, who's the leading faction in this city's underworld? Where do I find them? What are they like? How strong are they? Tell me all that you know..."

____________________________________________________________​

​

​

The Clan of Infinitum was based out of an old, but refurbished maritime docking station that worked hard to remain seemingly legitimate.​

​

They were Jarven's next destination and he was coming for them.​

 

[Pharazon Draken]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Location: FIV-Ciena Ree, En route to Rakata Beta[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]Objective #2: Black Blood on the Shore[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]Post #: 1[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Stormtrooper Lieutenant Pharazon Draken was nervous, as he always was before potentially combat deployments. He and the rest of the Stormtroopers of the 4th Platoon 189th Grenadier Company were preparing themselves for deployment to the surface of the ancient world of Rakata Beta within one of the landing hangers of the Executrix Star Destroyer FIV-Ciena Ree. They were arrayed in squad sized columns of ten, five columns in total for the fifty troopers of 4th Platoon. Each and every one of them was resplendent in shining and fastidiously maintained armour, and outfitted with equally maintained blaster rifles and other associated equipment. They were now doing final checks and procedures prior to boarding their landing craft to await the drop order to the peninsula where a new military base was to be established.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Walking up and down the columns and inspecting his Stormtroopers, Pharazon was deep in conversation with his protege and Platoon Sergeant, Remus Cain. They had already had their mock order and statement of diligence conversation game they had before each potential combat mission. They were instead discussing the local Rakata.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“I do not like this Remus, the Rakata built their Infinite Empire off the backs of human slaves, we should be purging this planet of their filth to finish what our ancestors began with their revolt so long ago, not seeking to negotiate even with the opportunistic and those sympathetic to our cause among the monsters”[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px] Pharazon said over their private com, he was passionate if not academically entirely focused on history and his anger over this particular issue dripped from every word.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“I feel a similar way, but surely there is some benefit to be had in using the survivors to fit our own purposes, such is High Command’s thinking I would assume” Cain countered, checking the blaster power pack of a fresh out of training replacement.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Of course that is High Commands intention, which I have already considered and do see the logical value in such a course of action” Pharazon continued, zeal and perhaps a small amount of patronising evident in his tone.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Even so, I am adamant in my belief and desire that we exterminate them from the face of the galaxy with fire and durasteel, we would still gain their planets and any of their technology potentially still of value while avenging the billions of human slaves slaughtered and consumed in ages past under the whips and chains of the Rakata"[/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px] Pharazon continued, voice filled with fire and brimstone.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Cain, of course, took no offence from Pharazon’s argument as he had been baiting him by arguing from High Command’s authority rather than his own beliefs, something that Pharazon despised. However, it did give Cain pleasure to see Pharazon knowing he was being teased.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Pharazon, I agree with you but we have little agency, we serve, we fight, and we obey as you once told me, if they give us a reason we will purge them with all the zeal I know you feel but until then…” Cain said, more seriously this time, his devotion to discipline forcing him to add these serious caveats occasionally if he felt Pharazon was too close to insubordination.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Of course Remus, I am well aware of our operational limitations but I feel the need to complain about things such as these, and I count you as something of a close friend and talented NCO who can actually provide stimulating if occasionally infuriating conversation” Pharazon said, calming himself and asserting his self control, he could not deny his emotions but he was their master and not the reverse.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“But that is quite enough of that subject for now Sergeant, I am certain the platoon is prepared for deployment?” he asked, swiftly ending their little chat and returning to his usual cold and professional tone and attitude.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Affirmative sir, aside from some minor weapon calibrations needing to be redone by some of the new Privates 4th Platoon is combat ready and prepared for deployment” Cain replied, crisp and professional.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Excellent” Pharazon said finally, he then switched to the platoon general comm channel, turning to his assembled Stormtroopers. “All squads, make ready for embarkation and potentially hostile drop and landing, however, there will be no engagement unless by my direct order or a general order from Command, the establishment of the military base takes priority over all other initial considerations, do I make myself clear!” Pharazon demanded rather than asked, voice like disciplined iron and serpent like in its pitch, brooking no dissent.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Sir yes sir!” came the unified and powerful reply from all forty-nine Stormtroopers assembled before Pharazon.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Have courage for one another, give blood for the cause of order, and remember the bonds of loyalty you have to the Supreme Leader, Grand Moff Fortan, and your fellow Stormtroopers and you will find yourself amongst the finest soldiers the galaxy has ever known, now, make ready, fight well, and obey” Pharazon said, his voice powerful and assured if slightly grim and terrible, he could only hope he could keep his troopers determined, energised, and ready for anything. Only time and the coming drop would tell.[/SIZE]

 

[Ara Zambrano]

Objective: #1
Post: 1

Every second ticked off in her mind like a raindrop landing in a puddle. Every horrible second stuck in this metal can hurtling through space was a moment of agony and anxiety. Ara had found a spot she considered somewhat safe, wedged onto a seat, with a solid wall behind her back and to her side. She sat cross-legged, her knuckles white as she gripped the saber hilt she'd borrowed for the mission. It was a simple, slightly curved hilt and it now bore the sign of the sweaty palms that clutched at it.

In an effort to stay somewhat covert, she'd opted to dress more modestly that normal. All of her skin was covered, with an addition of a vest for extra protection on her torso. Her cloak wrapped around her shoulder comfortably and her hood pulled over her head, concealing her features. A basic mask sat in her lap, unused.

She resolutely refused to look out at the vast emptiness of space they were hurtling through. She barely looked at her instructor Kriel Firin for confirmation of his presence. She was here to follow and explore. If she was lucky, she'd find an artifact or piece of lore that interested her and would be worth something to the order. The Rakata were attributed to many force-imbued technologies, most utilizing the dark side. If she could find one of these items and return it to the Order, then she'd call this mission a success. At the very least she'd make herself useful to the Order and prove that she was capable of working with other Disciples. But first, she had to get off of this ship.

 

[Maurice Dalton]

Post Two.
Hyperspace enroute to Rakata Beta.

"The power pack... Is that for the Maser tech Xenotech is working on?"

"None other," Maurice replied. It was clear that this time, the Commissioner was coming back to his thoughts. No longer was he absentmindedly nodding his head and answering questions. He was no longer in the depths of his brains trying to piece together how best to put this contraption together.

"But why Rakata Beta, what's so important here?"

"Earlier today, our people from Xenotech were working on constructing a facility on one of the moons in the system. Instead of finding complete solid rock, the droids were beset upon by gas." A pause from Mr. Dalton. "Preliminary reports suggest it can be used for blaster gas. And so... Here we are."

"Hey, I'm just on your security detail, boss."

 

[Zmej Ren]

Location: En route to Rakata Beta
Objective: 1
Post: 2


All boarded the transport and soon left the large ship’s confines, headed towards their destination. Most of the white-clad soldiers remained quiet or exchanged chatter among themselves. A completely out of place element, Zmej Ren, meditated and listened to dark side’s flow. Her own sight was shut, but soon fluttered open, sensing another passenger’s gaze glued to her form. Captain Greene spied on the mysterious figure sitting among his men. One did not have to read minds to know the man disliked being followed by someone completely outside of the chain of command, furthermore a being who reported to people close to the Supreme Leader. His distaste for the Ren’s enigmatic purpose spilled into the Force, causing Zmej to turn her head, eyes hidden behind the helmet meeting his stare. She could feel it.

Bred for war, raised and disciplined for this very role, the man did not think much about the robed, masked figure sporting a lightsaber. It wasn’t hard to accurately guess his thoughts – her father shared this condescending opinion about Force sensitives as well. Cheap tricks and flashy laser swords, wizards of old that are incapable of rising to greatness without armies of rifle-wielding men in their back. It was the Jedi, Sith, Ren who always stole the glory of those behind each and every victory. Except for very few distinguished names of generals and admirals, halls of fame were lined with Force sensitives. Nobody remembered the millions of brave men and women, their glorious accomplishments, everyone’s sight always fell upon some robe-clad fool with ancient swords. In a way, Zmej Ren understood the sentiment – she had done nothing, yet served the Supreme Leader directly, a tremendous honour not many outside of the Ren achieved.

Greene was the first to break the silence.

“Sir, with respect, I do not understand the necessity of your presence. Me and my men can secure anything to be found on the planet on our own. Why… -“

The Force betrayed his true intentions – nothing other than greed and fear. Although a devoted Imperial, the captain did not want to be robbed of his find by one of the Force sensitives. He did not want to share the success, either, unwilling to let a slice of that delicious pie go to anyone but himself and his fellow soldiers.

“Captain,” Zmej raised her gloved hand and interrupted the man, “What do you know about the Force? The dark side?”

“Nothing, sir,” stated the officer, shaking his head, finally breaking the eye contact in defeat. In the man’s defence, Greene did keep his unfavourable opinion on the Force private, knowing better than to challenge the Supreme Leader’s Hand.

“Then do your duty and I will do mine,” spat the disciple poisonously, seeds of irritation stealing into her tone, “You have no idea what dangers could be waiting for you and your men. Enemies you cannot fight in the way you know. That is why the Supreme Leader sends me to oversee this operation.”

More silence followed, this time not interrupted by either.

 

[Maurice Dalton]

Post Three.
Exiting Hyperspace In Proximity of Centurion.

"Commissioner Dalton," the pilot said from the front of the ship. During the journey from Yalara he had locked himself in the cockpit so that he could sleep. Since the events of Kaeshana, he hardly had any sleep. Part of that was likely due to Maurice's own ridiculous antics and almost getting them blasted into oblivion by a Galactic Alliance blockade. Thankfully, however, Maurice's quick thinking, and excellent bluff tactics worked perfectly.

It was good that that transmission was being broadcasted on an open channel, and thus recorded.

But, that was another story, and they were far enough away from Kaeshana for it to mean little.

"We've reverted to real space."

"Excellent," he eyed his Chief of Security before he nodded to him and then referred to the pilot again, "Contact the mining facility on the surface of Centurion. Get us cleared immediately." There was a confirmation, but Maurice had already stopped listening.

 

[Jarven Zexxel]

​

In the world of intelligence, knowledge as power. What defined the career of each intelligence specialist was how they went about securing that knowledge and how successful they were in doing so.

Jarven's plan was to infiltrate the docks at night, find the control office in the main complex and loot as much knowledge as he could out of their organization. He may or may not be able to find that "little black book" that every crime drama holo vid wanted you to believe was a highly vulnerable, highly coveted keepsake accessory for each and every crime faction. Yet, even the "legitimate job" logs locked away could tell Jarven what he wanted to know. It was all about recovery and comprehensive investigation.

____________________________________________________________​

​

​

After an hour of careful stealth maneuvering and patience, Jarven was finally inside the big boss' office. He supposed that crime had a different definition on each and every planet; a different level of intensity. The level of crime that Infinitum seemed to be used left them feeling over-confident due to not being broken into enough times. It seemed as though they had grown accustomed to the weight of their name's notoriety and a moderate show of force to maintain security from infiltration. Getting past the outer guards was the hardest part because there was virtually no one here after work hours...at least, today, that is.

So, they put up a show during the day and barely kept up at night? Definitely a front. They probably only got busy during the night when they were expecting a shipment by boat. He scanned the boss office for life forms and was relieved that it came back negative. He opened and closed the door behind him and set about finding whatever he could. He checked drawers, he scanned for hidden objects, he hacked access to the terminal (wiping his tracks, of course) and downloaded a copy of whatever digital info that he could.

Overall, the night was a major success and not very eventful. They should have been ashamed of themselves. This was child's play to Jarven.

__________________________________________________________​

​

​

"I know who you are, Elias Avery," stated Jarven as he sat across from the supposed crime boss. "and so does the First Order."

Elias Avery: Tall, pale, thin and loved to wear regal white outfits. He was the kind of man who loved to feel as though he held all the cards. Maybe it worked for the people of this planet, but Jarven was a Hole in One compared to Elias' par. Elias' jaw line hardened as he glared back at Jarven; clearly frustrated at the sudden turn of events.

"Whatever do you mean, fool? My name is Jynry Coppes and you have no business threatening me with the name of aggressors!"

Elias was playing hard to get; hiding behind the thin veil of innocent identity that he had tried to cultivate all these years.

"Sadly, I'm not interested in playing that game with you, Elias. I know everything that I need to know about The Clan of Infinitum thanks to the poorly maintained state of affairs here. No wonder you've let anklebiters become a major threat to your organization."

Elias was growing a darker shade of red every few seconds that Jarven spoke. There was only so much that he wanted to goad the crime boss before things devolved into a firefight.

"However, I'm here to help."

"You, a crony of the infidelic First Order, think you can help ME?!?" Elias was standing up from his chair and gripping the edges of his desk tightly, now.

"I KNOW I can help you. I also know that a TIE bomber can raze this dock into the waters if I don't leave here alive or I might just decide to let it make its run anyway if I decide you're more of a hindrance than a help."

"You think to threaten us! That would be war! You'd be insane to have that happen!"

"Ah, yes, but we ARE the infidels, remember? You, being so superior, are the one who has no idea what 'depths we'd stoop to' if we had a mind to do so. Plus, as you should already know, this 'task force' that is landing on this planet, as we speak, is well equipped to pick a fight with...any of you. So, either accept the help of the FOSB to put you in the number one spot in the new order we're helping to form on this planet or be wiped away with the rest of the refuse. You really don't have a choice, if you value survival..."

 

[Maurice Dalton]

Post Four.
Entering Xenotech Laboratories Facility on Centurion Moon.

"We're cleared, Sir," the pilot said.

"Good. Take us in. I want to see what they've got for us." Naturally, by 'us' Maurice meant himself, the other two onboard weren't altogether that important to the success of this mission. Of course, Maurice wasn't the best pilot, but he was able to turn on autopilot, and he was most definitely able to plot hyperspace coordinates. His problem however was steadily lifting off and landing without snapping everyone's necks. At least, that's how it had been when back when he was a Commando in the ranks of the One Sith.

Undoubtedly, his skills could've only degraded since then.

A few minutes later they were entering the facility's hangar, passing through the energy shield that kept the atmosphere inside.

Outside the transport shuttle was an assortment of stormtroopers, only a squad or two, Maurice assumed from the viewport before he walked towards the ramp. Perhaps he spotted sight of someone who looked like a scientist, probably the Chiss he had only communicated with over the HoloNet. Today, was their first actual meeting, in person. Communication had solely been through text based files and encrypted transmissions.

And then... The ramp started to descend, and out came Maurice and his bodyguard.

 

[Kuzo]

Enroute....

Up on the observation deck, Doctor Irajah Ven watched the streaking brightness of hyperspace. Dressed in sensible, but comfortable fashion, she hadn't eschewed her usual long sleeves and high necked tunic. Short dark curls framed a pale face, reflecting some of the dancing lights filtering through the dome. She leaned against the railing, gazing out, her shoulders relaxed and lost in thought, hazel eyes distant.

So much has changed so quickly. In the whirlwind of the last few weeks, she savored this moment of quiet. It gave her a chance to reflect. To sort some of the various strangeness into their appropriate places in her mind.

Of course, some things defied categorization entirely.

There was nothing for her to do but wait and think. While normally those things were difficult for her, for the moment at least, she was content despite that. She smiled to herself, shaking her head and chuckling quietly.

She stood up straight, both hands wrapped around the railing. There would be time enough for action once they reached the planet. She had a job to do, helping to over see the construction of the medical center.

But for now, the quiet was enough.

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Objective: Build a spaceport in an industrial area
Allies: First Order
Enemies: Unknown
Post: 2/20

"Rakata Beta control, this is the Ultima, requesting permission to land"

"This ship is taking up the space of many tarmac parking slots; for some reason you were the first one to come in many weeks. Permission granted"

"Roger, roger"

There was one place close to the industrial areas where they could land the Ultima on the surface of Rakata Beta; Dunames wasted no time in asking permission to land on the accursed planet. True, Rakata Beta has seen better days, especially around the industrial area. But restoring the tarmac, building a cargo processing facility, a control tower on top of it, as well as a passenger area and a museum dedicated to the history of the Rakatan Empire, is not an operation that is done overnight. However, the region surrounding Infinite City isn't the most conducive for a spaceport, because the NIMBY factor is a lot higher in even the outer suburbs of a planetary capital than around an industrial area, so this will have to do. Because there has been no event that could potentially have caused them to lose hardpoints, equipment or passengers, Dunames felt unnecessary to ask for a roll call of the contents of the ship before the actual landing took place. Of course, she knew that the Ultima couldn't land without the repulsorlifts being active, so nominal power is kept for those items to remain in operation.