First Order: Beyond Darkness [Dominion of Rakata Beta]

[Nisha Skaiyr]

Location: Aboard the Ruination​

Allies: First Order, [member="Darth Carnifex"] and co.​

Enemies: Rakata Beta Opposition Forces​

Objective: Cathartic Bloodshed​

Equipment: Sith Sword; Armorplast-&-Weave; Respirator​

Post #2​

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Nisha knew that she had irritated her Master, not that it bothered her. It wasn't so much that she intended to upset him; only a fool would intentionally anger such a powerful being. It was more so that she simply didn't care. If Carnifex was annoyed by her tribute, he could have her remove it, or he could simply deal with it.

The War-Witch had more important things on her mind than the pettiest whims of her Master.

Chief among them was the approaching battle. Plated fists clenched and opened at Nisha's sides, and soon enough she began pacing. Side to side, side to side. Her movements were reminiscent of a caged predator, from the way her footsteps made so little sound to the posture she carried herself with, and that wasn't an inaccurate comparison. It'd been close to a month since she'd spilled blood, and that was far, far too long. She was a huntress, a warrior. The thrill of stalking one's prey, the rush of blade meeting blade; these gave her purpose, these made her whole. The mindless slaughter her Master and his ilk partook in couldn't even begin to compare. There was no sport, no glory, no honor in destroying the defenseless.

The Ruination made its exit from the Void to join its brothers-in-arms, the bulk of the First Order's fleet. That fleet was an impressive sight, and under any other circumstance, Nisha would likely have spent some time in awe of the sheer destructive capacity of such an armada. But in this moment, her focus was on the planet below, and on the soldiers that she knew awaited their arrival.

"I hope you're right, my Lord. Because nothing can compare to it."

 

[Valessia Brentioch]

RAKATAN BETA FORCES HAVE WROUGHT FROM THE DEAD THE NAVAL FORCES OF THE FRINGE. MEETING THE FIRST IMPERIAL ARMADA WITH AN IRON FIST IN A REFUSAL TO SUBMIT. THE FIV SUBJUGATOR EMERGES FROM HYPERSPACE TO REINFORCE THE FIRST ORDER'S POSITION ABOVE THE PLANET. ​

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ON THE SURFACE, THE KNIGHTS OF REN HAVE LANDED AND BEGIN THEIR INDIVIDUAL QUESTS FOR ANCIENT RAKATAN LORE. LURKING ALL THROUGHOUT THE SUPER CONINTINENT ARE GUERLLIA FORCES OF RAKATANS MAKING USE OF THE FORMER INFINITE EMPIRE TECHNOLOGY. CAN THE KNIGHTS OF REN OUTWIT THEIR NEW FOUND OPPONENTS?​

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WITHIN THE INFINITE CITY, A SINGLE FOSB AGENT DOES WHAT HE CAN TO MAINTAIN LEVERAGE OVER THE CRIMINAL ELEMENTS ON RAKATA BETA. MEANWHILE, STORMTROOPERS OF THE 4TH PLATOON MOVE TO ESCORT AMBASSADOR VALESSIA BRENTIOCH, DOCTOR IRAJAH VEN AND OTHER CIVILIANS TO THE SURFACE FOR 'AGGRESSIVE' NEGOTIATIONS. ​

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ARRIVING AT THE INCURSION IS DARTH CARNIFEX AND HIS NEWEST APPRENTICE...​

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[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=zDI7XX6ffz0[/media]​

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ABOARD IMPERIAL SHUTTLE CALIBAN - EN ROUTE TO INFINITE CITY

Valessia Brentioch along with Doctor [member="Irajah Ven"] and more than a handful of diplomats now headed for the surface. Alongside them are stormtroopers with explicit orders to ensure their safety. What started out as a routine mission has now turned into anything but routine, additionally they needed to secure a site in northern part of the super continent in which to establish their military base. Base building, however; would have to wait as a shuttle pilot did his best to dodge in and around beams of red, green and whatever other colour that came screaming by the imperial shuttle.

Outside the transparisteel windows, it was hard to imagine just how the Rakatans were able to do this. And then all you would need to do is recall that the Rakatans were once the masters of this galaxy and rebuilding Fringe technology was not beyond their talents. Their own mandate would prevent them from submitting so easily to the First Order and to think otherwise was quite naive. With great luck as one would call it, the shuttle only had a handful of near misses, and still the scene from here was nearly beyond comprehension as the First Order aided by the Subjugator and the Ruination took to the Rakatan Rebels. Valessia checked her gear, carbines, check, vibrodaggers - check, vibrobayonet? Check. Ditching ceremonial armor she grabbed a blaster vest before making it to the shuttle and thusly checked it too, "let's just hope this won't be a repeat of the Ssi-Ruuk." She mutters.

"Alright, I'm trying to find a landing zone - I'll try to make it as smooth as possible but I ain't got no promises," the pilot says from the front, and Valessia looks toward Doctor Irajah Ven and the other diplomats with a knowing nod.

IN THE RAKATA BETA SYSTEM - A FIERCE NAVAL BATTLE

Rakatan forces split their lines looking to flank the First Imperial Armada on the left and right, Captain Sturgeon aboard the Ciena Ree notices this and turns to his lieutenant. "Rubani," he begins, "send our lines down to out manoeuvre them. Focus on that Star Destroyer." The Ree would keep her focus on the main Attrition-class light star destroyer while her smaller lines dove to out flank the Rakatans. Uprated shielding kept them safe, for now the shields wouldn't hold out for long it seemed as if the Rakatans and the Imperials were equal for number, only the Rakatans had more of the smaller vessels.

Steahle from the coordination center kept tabs on the TIE fighters, "careful out there boys and girls, they've got us outnumbered - three to one." Sounds like a good day for the Imperials. Any pilot worth his salt could handle that with ease - or rather they're supposed to be able to handle such aggression with ease. Small fighters buzzing around the larger capital ships like insects over death looking to consume the larger vessels. Then the familiar screams of the TIEs screeching just above the hulls of both Imperial and Rakatan-Fringe vessels, exchanging fire power. The Ciena Ree focused her main guns, and prepared to fire on Sturgeon's orders... "FIRE!"

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[member="Gunther Creed"] | [member="Kriel Ren"] | [member="Perth Levov"] | [member="Aran Piett"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"]| [member="Nisha Skaiyr"] | [member="Boo Chiyo"] | [member="Jarven Zexxel"] | [member="Zmej Ren"] | @Jaina Ventor | [member="Quin Leeman"] | [member="Pharazon Draken"] | @Everyone​

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Objective: Build a spaceport in an industrial area
Allies: First Order
Enemies: Unknown
Post: 6/20

"Uploading a copy of the local construction codes? Or another idea entirely?"

"I doubt that cargo crews would want to visit a museum dedicated to the Infinite Empire. However, pay close attention to the chosen design and whether it can be made to fit the local construction codes"

"Don't forget that Star Tours is more than simply a shipping company"

"White elephants? Did I hear the word white elephant?" the chief engineer asked Dunames.

Local construction codes were often dependent on gravity and climate; usually the higher the gravity, the thicker the walls have to be for a given material, whereas insulation was the key issue that was more of a function of climate than of gravity. While, of course, she didn't know much about architecture, or architectural history, "White Elephant" Virginie was well-versed in history. Projects vulnerable to becoming white elephants are often the result of poor planning or downsized in scope when it becomes clear that the project will be a waste in its original form, if the vulnerability is discovered before its completion. Sometimes it becomes a white elephant just because of the cost overrun part of it, or sometimes a white elephant has become one after it has outlived its usefulness. At other times, planning shortcomings can become apparent if one subscribes too strongly to the "if someone builds it, they will come" theory, or also when the window of usefulness is a little too short, especially when it comes to military projects, and certainly naval ones.

 

[Kyrel Ren]

https://youtu.be/myS5hNJiri8

Location: FIV Ciena Ree, Medical chamber.
Objective: Head down to the surface to explore ruins.
Nearby: [member="BE-183"] [member="Caelia"]
Post 1
Kyrel was submerged deep within healing liquids of the bacta. He had been in and out of the tank for what seemed like weeks after the events on Kaeshana, and since than he has been a different man, he had been haunted by the events that took place on the hellhole of a world, He had sustained numerous injuries such as two holes through his torso from lightsaber wounds. Not to mention his limbs were rendered inoperable from the electrical attacks of a Jedi who he had managed to mortally wound before his suit was rendered useless.

His suit was being repaired by a group of droids who had been improving it since the battle, and they made modifications to make it more resistant to electrical attacks, and the med droids often checked on him feeding him nutrients through tubes that were hooked up to him, and even though most of his physical wounds were healed their were still mental scars from the exhausting conflict still fresh in Kyrel's mind. He had fought against two Jedi and was lucky to survive, he even killed his first one, but still regardless of it all he should have been happy, he wasn't he was far from it. He had been resentfully bitter about himself, as in the weeks following he had doubts about himself.

He felt as if he couldn't live up to Vader's Legacy, he had lost in such a demeaning way, it was if he had lost a sense of who he was, his faith in the dark side was shaken in that horrible battle, before he thought he was more powerful in some ways to rival that of Vader, but this coldly was proven wrong as he was beaten by his enemies, he even thought that he should have died on that world, he should have deserved such a fate for how weak he was, but surprisingly he was saved by the purple haired ren known as Samka who in his bouts of consciousness had dragged him off the battlefield. He still wished that he could have died on the battlefield, his power was not what he thought what it was, and so seemed to be in a bout of depression. He had always thought the dark side had made him strong, but the events on Kaeshana had proved him wrong.

The worst thing next to his faith in the dark side being shattered, was his saber being gone. He had a certain fondness for the weapon, as it had been with him since his first days on Virgillia where he successfully aided in the defense of the Bastion of Ren, on Endor he had used it to help in the slaying of the gorax and the recovery of Vader's Remains, he had carried it with him to the Ren expedition of Lothal to recover Kyber crystals, and than to Kaeshana where he wielded it a final time against two Jedi and gained it's first kill of a force wielder. It's dark imprint of it's master was left upon it, and so he never felt right not feeling the touch of it, or hearing the hum of it's unstable fiery crimson blade due to the cracked kyber crystal. He would have to construct a new blade, but than he felt that it would never be exactly the same as it once did under his ownership. He swore this to himself if he ever found the new caretaker he would kill that person and reclaim it once more.

The liquid slowly started to recede as he was cast out of his thoughts by his eyes opening and seeing a med droid at a console operating the tank. The droid spoke in a mechanical cold tone. "Subject is conscious and vital are normal, prepare to prep the life support for the subject." The other droids in the room did what they were expected, and started to make final adjustments to his limbs and suit. The cooling and healing liquids than drained down to zero, as mechanical arms lifted Kyrel up. The head medical droid looked at Kyrel who was shaking off the dreariness from being left in the tank for so long, and said in a inquisitive but cold tone. "My lord it has been quite a while since you have been awake. Have you felt any illness of any kind? Do you require anything before the procedure can begin?" Kyrel looked at him with disgust his black hair wet ,now drooped down to his head almost covering his head he said angrily. "Just get on with it." The droid nodded four mechanical arms emerged each holding two prosthetic arms and legs. Each one was slowly screwed into the four empty holes, which were the stumps of Kyrel's limbs. He gritted his teeth in the excruciating pain that he was feeling, and slowly drifted in and out of consciousness.

After ten minutes the process was complete, and the mechanical arms receded. Kyrel opened his eyes and was dropped to a table, where his arms were restrained. Phase two of the process was beginning. His suit appeared carried by several droids now shiny, and repaired following his defeat. His leg pieces were slowly inserted as well as the arms, both equally painful as to some degree it connected with his flesh. Than came the chest, and finally his helmet. The two piece was inserted first the mask, than the helmet. His eyes adjusted to the red vision that he normally was used to seeing.

When it was over the table rises, and after several minutes of silence a familiar mechanical breathing could be heard within. The droid approached Kyrel saying in the familiar cold tone. "My Lord are you functional?" He looked at the droid and responded not used to the mechanical baritone after so long. "I'm fine droid release me, and tell me where am I?" His arm restraints were removed, and he clumsily walked on the durasteel floor looking around he thought to himself. 'I remember how this is not living, This is always my own private hell.' The droid responded to him, "We are above the world of Rakata Beta on the FIV Ciena Ree. You were transported here from Dosaan since the Supreme Leader felt necessary that after recent events you should be brought here, He even gave the order himself despite protests from many of the staff." This surprised Kyrel even though no one could see such a reaction behind that mask. He did not know that the Supreme Leader had watched him closely, but than again his spies were everywhere. He didn't decide to say anything as he tried to make his way out of the room.

He had walked down the hallways receiving stares from many of the people on board. Through his enhanced eardrums, he could hear that many of them were surprised to see the mechanical monstrosity still alive after so many weeks, not to mention even walking. He did not pay them attention as he was lost on his own thoughts at the moment. He still felt unsure of himself and his abilities after Kaeshana, that he did not know what to do, it puzzled him even more that the Supreme Leader even issued an order to bring him here. Either way he needed to regain his faith in the dark side somehow.

He walked to the hanger all the while puzzling what he thought of Rakata Beta, he found the thought of the ancient rakata alive impossible, but than their would be nothing to chance in this galaxy. He had heard of what could be found in the ancient ruins of their planets in the unknown regions. This gave him the idea to explore such ruins, as he could find new knowledge their or better yet lightsaber components. He still had the crystal from Lothal that called to him months ago but lacked the sufficient materials, and he doubted that such could have been found or brought onto the ship so easily.

After several minutes he finally reached the hanger, his Theta class shuttle was their, which must have been brought on board. He was about ready to come on board when he sensed someone was coming his way, and so looked at the way he came to see who it could possibly be.

 

[Maurice Dalton]

Post Six.
Location: Xenotech Laboratories Facility on Rakata Beta Moon.

For a moment, there was a pause, perhaps the Chiss didn't believe that the Commssioner wanted to test the weapons here, on the moon itself. Naturally, if they were going to essentially, 'bag' the gas here, they would've had a testing facility to make sure the equipment worked. "You know where to take me," Maurice said with a relatively amused look upon his face. There was a nod from the Chiss, and for a moment, the briefest of moments, the Former One Sith Commando believed he saw the cheeks of the Chiss Scientist twitch.

Odd.

"Tell me of the problems that you've faced so far."

The look was gone, and suddenly, he was back to being a professional once more.

"The combination of the different types of gases. Both maser and... Your standard blaster gas. Differences, but still produce a beam, obviously, the Charric a more potent one. The decision had come to make the gas from the planet into the Charric's power pack." They walked through the winding halls of the space facility. On the way in to the facility, the complex hadn't looked that big. Space had an odd way of warping shapes, he supposed. Typically, he never looked out the viewports, for when he was upon transports, they were closed off. The only way out through the ramp the had boarded. "You'll be interested to know of the colour of the bolt."

 

[Soleil Ishtar]

RAKATA BETA
Location: Knights of Ren Landing Site Echo-7
Nearby: [member="Boo Chiyo"]
Equipment: Standard Ren Light Armor | One Force Pike | One standard vibroblade

Twin blue orbs gave a curious blink at the older youngling's direction. Was he talking to me? The confusion contorted her freckled face in mild confusion. Soleil went from the canteen to the blue boy, back to the canteen and then finally once more to the amber eyes. He was so strange. His skin was even blue! The young, blonde girl wasn't quite sure what to make of it. Her homeworld didn't have much contact with other alien species, so he was a brand new one. It made her a little bit uneasy, unsure.

If I poke his cheek would it come back blue?

Soleil shifted her slight weight on the soles of her black leather boots. She was skinny as a beanpole, just as tall for her age and gangly to boot. Her blonde hair seemed to be prone to escaping the bun at the nape of her neck, whispering tendrils tickling her cheeks.

She had a small Force Pike secured to her back, a vibroshiv at her hip and wore black and white leather clothing. Not much in terms of protective armor. The youngling stood out like a sore thumb amidst the Stormtroopers and all the elder Ren.

"Thank you." her voice was quiet, low. Her eyes kept going back and forth between peeking up at the boy in avid curiosity and trying to keep to herself.

Nope, not human. Not at all.

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Objective: Build a spaceport in an industrial area
Allies: First Order
Enemies: Unknown
Post: 7/20

"Plans for the construction permit application submitted"

"Good, Virginie. Now, depending on how fast the application process is, maybe in a few days we will get the results from them"

The chief engineer of the Ultima wasn't there when Hoth occurred as a white elephant. Wait, there wasn't even an Ultima in the first place when the white elephant of an alpine skiing resort was deployed. Yet the words white elephant were everywhere on the bridge when the Rakatan authorities asked for the purpose of their visit to Rakata Beta. And not just because they themselves said it: Virginie also mentioned exactly how Hoth was a white elephant from Star Tours' standpoint. Then why would the Rakatans talk about the spaceport as if it was a white elephant to them? Spaceports are a popular topic in civil engineering when it comes to discussions of white elephant: many of the big-ticket white elephants are spaceports. Lanever Villecham Spaceport on Hosnian Prime used to be a white elephant until there even was a Star Tours entering the equation; for each Lanever Villecham, which only required the right tenant to take off and be rescued from the gates of hell, there are other spaceports that failed much more spectacularly.

"White elephants can also arise because of pork barreling in democracies, where elected officials often attempt to secure funding to support localized projects that serve only local/special interests"

 

[Darth Carnifex]

The blinding light of hyperspace slowed and faded until the blue and green marble of Rakata Beta loomed before them along with the entire Rakatan defensive fleet, and soon the space before them was filled with a explosions as both fleet's cannons opened fire on each other. Blossoms of radiant light bathed the Ruination's shields causing the ship to rock slightly with each detonation, but the shields were strong and thus held firmly. In accordance with naval protocol the Ruination belched forth the entirety of its starfighter and bombers into the void, the battlefield becoming thick with a hundred different battles all occurring simultaneously.

The Dark Lord crossed his arms over his chest, silently observing the battle as it unfolded. He recognized many ships in the Ratakan armada for they had once belonged to the fallen Fringe Confederation that once ruled this world and many others across the Outer Rim. But they had grown lax, sluggish in their isolation, and he doubted that the Imperial fleet would have much difficult in dispatching these outdated models.

"Inform our pilots that they are to punch a hole through the defensive line, I desire to make landfall." No argument was brooked, no clarification was desired, the naval officers simply bowed to the will of their Lord and moved with all haste to execute it. Carnifex, however; moved methodically away from the deck, beckoning his apprentice to follow him as he descended the levels to the ventral hangar bay where several gunships and personal shuttles were still parked even though all of the fighters had been launched. One was the Dark Lord's personal vessel, the Crestfallen, and was currently guarded by two members of his scarlet-robed Crownguard each wielding a towering force pike. All around them stood several platoons of Blackblade Guard going through the finishing touches on their armor, weapons, and other assorted gear before filing into the gunships that would deliver them onto the surface.

"Once the way is clear and we disembark, I want you to remain close. These Ratakan are tricky creatures, but you will soon see how a Dark Lord of the Sith deals with those who stand in the way of the Dark Side." And thus he bid [member="Nisha Skaiyr"] to board his shuttle alongside him, after which the boarding ramp would ascend and close as the shuttle's thrusters roared to life and carried the shuttle out of the hanger and into the debris-littered void. Trailing them were six of the Blackblade's shuttles who twirled and pirouetted past all obstacles that was arrayed in their flight trajectory, and several times they were forced to break rank and eliminate an enemy hostile with their powerful composite laserbeams mounted onto the ship's wings.

Soon enough they would break through the blockade, and the planet awaited them below.

 

[Varus Ren]

Location: FIV Ciena Ree, Hangar
Nearby: [member="Kyrel Ren"], [member="BE-183"], [member="Caelia"]
Objective: Explore the Surface
Post Uno

While he was most certainly not who Kyrel sensed coming, Varus nonetheless came. The Disciple of Ren would likely feel an odd sense of cold, one that would bring on a sense of dread in others, or perhaps merely fear, but Kyrel was not like most others, none of their order were, Sieger had made them strong. The black robed man swiftly approached the shuttle, his cropped black hair shining under the light of the hangar and revealing the numerous scars on his face. Like Kyrel, Varus had been destroyed, but mentally rather than physically, but the result left him just as far from being man as Kyrel's cybernetics.

He'd opted to not lug his rifle onto this mission, instead he simply relied on his blade and his connection to the force, something he could now fully utilize thanks to Sieger himself. The Master of Ren had freed him from the shackles which kept him weak all his life and let him become something...more. As he reached the craft he cast a glance the one who fashioned himself after Vader, and he nodded in what could've possibly been approval. Without any further ado, he strode past him and into the shuttle.

Even before the Ren he had been a man of few words, now this was multiplied tenfold, he did not speak unless spoken to or it was otherwise necessary, anything else was a distraction from Sieger's will. Taking a seat the man pulled a cloth over the brim of his nose to cover his face, and sat in deafening silence.

 

[Jarven Zexxel]

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"yyYAAAAAGGGGHHH!!" exclaimed Jarven as he dragged a goon across a counter top and slammed his head into a movie theater register. Another goon jumped over the counter top and tackled him; both of them falling backwards into the popcorn tub. Jarven used the momentum to flip the goon further into the popcorn tub and then proceeded to beat him with the handheld salt dispenser. Two goons ran around the counter and tackled Jarven to the ground, causing them all to tumble down. Another goon jumped over the counter, just like his previous friend, and tried to add to the dog pile. However, before he landed on Jarven and his other two friends, a cyborg fist shot up and knocked him out mid drop. Whilst grabbing one of the goons face tightly, he used his left fist to grab the other guy by the hair and smack his head into the lazy susan drawer to his left. The guy (whose face Jarven was grabbing) started to emit a muffled scream from the pressure while Jarven slammed the other guy once, twice, thrice into the lazy susan before dropping him and standing up, still holding onto the other guy's face.

He lifted the young man bodily off the ground by the face, walked him over to the soft drink unit and said,

"Your Sprite is flat. You should fix it."

He then smashed him into the dispenser unit, causing a rupture and major spill of a wide assortment of soft drink beverages.

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You're probably wondering how we got here...Actually, no you're not. In fact, I don't even care if you care. I really don't feel like doing a flashback, lol.​

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"aaaaggghhhh!!" came the sound of a goon (wielding Jarven's Kyuzo shield) rushing at Jarven. The couple seconds before projected impact, the goon had to duck his face behind the large shield and focus on providing maximum impact shock. That window of blindness was all it took for Jarven to quickly sidestep, grab the shield and let the young man fall flat.

"So, that's where my shield was. Huh..." remarked Jarven nonchalantly. The young man staggered to his feet only to be brutally shield bashed into the wall directly behind him. The young man crumpled to the ground and stayed down; either because he was out or wisely playing dead. Judging by the dent in the wall, the kiddo was dreaming of large beautiful women. Jarven took a moment to recognize the large amounts of young adult males that made up the Red Packers. That kind of demographic made sense when it came to a second rate faction whose strength lies in the allure of power and the bolstering of the supposed possession of a powerful artifact.

The movie-going civilians had all but vanished long since the fighting had broken out. Except for the Marvel movie crowd. You couldn't pry them out with a bomb threat, especially since the new Thore: Raggedy Rock movie was out and starring Kris Heinschler and Dark Grrrfuffalo.

He made his way back towards the admin offices and turned on a different layer of his vision suite: one which allowed him to visualize energy and heat signatures. Behind the doors of the head admin office, he could (essentially) see multiple men gearing up and one man sitting behind a control console in the back center of the room. The head honcho must have been pretty upset that he had lost security camera visuals before everything started. Now, they were operating blind on their home turf.

He launched a sticky mine at the door, readied a flash bang and waited to see what they would do. Instead of mobilizing, everyone in the room was going with the smart option to wait Jarven out until local law enforcement could arrive and restore order. Jarven shrugged, blew the door, tossed the flash bang in, readied his shield on his left arm and charged in after it blew. Most everyone was rubbing their eyes, but others had decided to blind fire in what they believed to be the door, whilst all the stray blaster bolts were absorbed by his shield, some accidentally fired way off kilter, mowing down their own. This caused more pandemonium, more friendly fire and more defensive positioning on Jarven's part while he would occasionally take a few shots with his pistol when he could.

It wasn't long before the crew were dead or dying on the ground. Their ringleader poked his head around the desk and looked at Jarven with fear clearly etched onto his face. This particular gang leader looked more like someone who smoked weed than could head up a crime organization.

"I'm afraid the cops won't get here in time to save you from me."

Jarven's words, oddly enough, caused the ringleader to giggle weirdly.

"Do you think I'd let the cops be notified and led here? You're as stupid as you look."

"Then what were you waiting for..." asked Jarven before he became quiet as he slowly turned around. He took a couple steps outside the door and took in the horde of young adults in similar gang clothing completely taking up the hall and posturing to him. Jarven gulped and turned back to look in on the ringleader, Joran Hedrou.

"Fffff---" was all Jarven was able to get off before the first goon ran forward to attack him.

 

[Pharazon Draken]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Location: Imperial Shuttle Caliban - En route to Infinite City[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]Objective #: 2/4[/SIZE]
[SIZE=14.6667px]Post #: 3[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]Pharazon and the other stormtroopers held fast and ramrod straight as the shuttle rocked, jolted and bucked as it avoided the torrent of incoming multicoloured fire. The stormtroopers had ushered Ambassador Brentioch, Doctor Ven, and other diplomatic staff aboard the shuttle and launched nearly immediately. The stormtroopers were on edge, all of them including Pharazon were always edgy when making combat drops, they had no control, no agency, no chance to survive if something they could not shoot shot them down. Nevertheless, they kept themselves out of the diplomatic official’s way and ready for landing and immediate deployment, of course, the fact that many of the troopers did not think much of diplomats did not encourage interaction. Pharazon, however, as the commanding officer of 4th Platoon and the man responsible for their security did not have that luxury, even if he was internally sardonic about having his hatred of the Rakata being partially vindicated. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]He listened to the pilot reporting their search for a landing site and alerted Sergeant Cain and his troops to prepare for landing and issued a series of preliminary orders for the establishment of a perimeter as soon as they leave the landing ramp. He also decided to contact the pilot to ensure they would land in a way that would make the stormtrooper’s deployment easier.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Pilot, when we land I need... I would request you to angle the shuttle and the landing ramp in such a way that the ramp is directed toward any open area around the landing site, as I need to get my troopers deployed as fast as possible in case of anti-vehicle weapon combatants are close by.” he said professionally and firmly.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]As the shuttle began its descent to the landing site the pilot had selected, the men of the 4th Platoon prepared themselves by readying their rifles, thermal detonators, and other essential pieces of equipment. Pharazon then arranged them at the landing ramp so that the second they made landfall within the city the grenadiers would immediately be able to begin securing the area for the diplomats to make landfall and start to move toward the people they needed to 'aggressively' negotiate with. [/SIZE]Addressing the Ambassador, Pharazon outlined his plan and made a few suggestions to ensure the diplomatic staff’s safety.

[SIZE=14.6667px]“I would not presume to issue orders to you your excellency, but I would suggest that you allow 4th Platoon and I to exit the shuttle first before allowing any of your staff to follow given the unknown situation on the ground” Pharazon said specifically, maintaining a level tone of respect and deference, if subtly suggesting that he knew what he was doing.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]“Given your current attire and equipment I... suspect you are able to handle yourself but I would humbly remind you that your safety is my overriding imperative, so if you do not wish to wait before you exit I would request that you stick close to at least one of my men, if not me” he finished, concern now evident in his voice as he examined the armed ambassador with cautious eyes behind his helmeted facade, while also silently pleading for her to not make his job more difficult by gallivanting off.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=14.6667px]As the shuttle descended upon its chosen landing site within the Infinite City, If there were any Rakata insurgents or anyone else waiting for them they were about to experience the great and terrible might of the grenadiers.[/SIZE]


[member="Valessia Brentioch"] | [member="Gunther Creed"] | [member="Irajah Ven"] | [member="Jaina Ventor"] | [member="Quin Leeman"]

 

[Zmej Ren]

Location: Rakata Beta
Objective: 1
Post: 6


Only few would recognize the disciple’s form of lightsaber combat – crude and unrefined, Zmej’s wide sweeps hardly held any resemblance to the elegance associated with Makashi. This apparent lack of grace did not impair the blade’s deadly efficiency though. A blood-curling hum sowed discord and terror among the Rakatan ranks, cutting swath through the insurgents without hesitation or mercy. A few minutes and Zmej turned an expert on Rakatan biology, her efforts greatly bolstered by several soldiers providing covering fire. Discipline and training alike were the decisive factors during the first few minutes – ambushed, the stormtroopers swiftly moved to cover, forming their defences with minimal losses. Most did not leave their camping spot until the initial attack lost its momentum, granting the First Order’s finest a chance of retaliating in kind, storming the enemy’s positions in brutal charges initiated by the disciple of Ren, who fought at the front like a raging Terentatek, zealously driving the offence forward.

“Give these xeno vermin no quarter!” Zmej screamed at the top of her lungs, “Drive them back!”

Her fanatical bravery drove her into the deepest slaughter, causing a brief separation from the allied forces and earning the teen several blaster bolts. She was lucky to wear her armour, as numerous shots kissed the blonde’s robed form, hitting the armour concealed beneath. Exhaustion knocked on the door like the most insidious of enemies, each wild swing pushing past natural reserves found in human bodies. Heavy breaths escaped from under the mask, mind wondering just how many opponents there were in this seemingly endless stream of hostility. As another tall cranium fell apart, mimicking another Rakatan’s gruesome death, the insurgency finally packed their efforts and started a retreat. Tired, chest rising and falling rapidly, Zmej nevertheless wished to see this through, unwilling to let the enemy go.

“Keep shooting! Take down as many as you can!”

Leading by example, she rushed after the fleeing force, slicing through the wounded or slow strugglers unable to escape the First Order’s wrath. Only after the last rebels fell down, dead, and the rest vanished from sight, Zmej stopped, removing her mask and tossing it down, drawing deep, fulfilling breaths, blonde hair a mess. Death filled the battlefield, although the casualties for the Supreme Leader’s faithful were significantly lower – most likely due to the insurgents having zero Force sensitive warriors on their sides.

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Objective: Build a spaceport in an industrial area
Allies: First Order
Enemies: Unknown
Post: 8/20

"In addition to a museum dedicated to the Infinite Empire, perhaps there is room for a museum dedicated to the white elephant projects of the galaxy"

"The Rakata were the distant precursors to the Primeval, the modern One Sith, Sith Order/Triumvirate"

"How so?"

"Their pattern of evil is remarkably similar to that of the aforementionned factions, but they are different in that they at least attempted to make some use of captured populations as slave labor. Now they used it to build monuments that would be regarded as white elephants by modern standards"

While they are still waiting on the Rakatan authorities to deliver them the construction permits, the discussion briefly shifts into a discussion of the Infinite Empire and how they could even build their white elephants. As for white elephant projects, there are so many of them that actually trying to ascertain their white elephant status may take much longer than a museum devoted to its construction: everyone familiar with the notion of white elephant as applied to public works knows that there are projects whose need is obvious but are still classified as white elephants because of the cost overrun aspect. Most definitions of white elephants include upkeep vs. revenue; it was hard to tell what made the Rakatan spaceport a white elephant to them: would that spaceport become another Lanever Villecham, that is, a facility that just needed the right tenant for it to keep operating? Hoth may simply not be a white elephant because its operation was kept low-profile and its upkeep was equally low-profile. Star Tours has been operating all over the place in First Order space, but Dunames knew that the White Elephant Museum would be a painful reminder to the rest of the galaxy.

 

[Jarven Zexxel]

​

Spoiler

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cN9jTnxv0RU

​

This was bad. The sheer weight of them all could bring Jarven down. He had to use crowd control and mobility to overcome their numbers.

First, activate wrist vents. *Ching* Spray with cryo blast. *SSSHH!* Pull pins. *Ti-Ting* throw a flash bang and a smoke grenade into their midst. *BANG!!* *PSSST!*There was the crowd control. Time to knock some heads. The shield provided perfect defense in hand to hand combat, but it was a liability when too many people were able to run in and push against you. The walls weren't solid to toss the shield around and expect it to bounce back at him. He relied on swift, high mobility strikes to present a shifty target. Where the goons were heavily strong in numbers, it only took one or two strikes to make sure they stayed down.

The sheer amount of them kept him from simply pulling out his auto pistol and firing into the crowd. Besides, these were pretty much kids they were throwing his way. It wouldn't be right to gun them down like filthy degenerates. Right hook, snap kick, one-two combo, they shoved him into the wall, he shoved off and they all fell to the ground. Shield bash, shield bash, leg swipe, flying knee. Little by little, they collectively got their kicks and punches and they gradually wore Jarven down. He'd taken down half of them before he decided that enough was enough.

He pulled out his auto pistol at the first chance and pointed it all the unarmed people. That gave everyone pause and they even started backing off slowly. He raised the pistol to point at the ceiling and he fired off a bunch of rounds. That scattered them real quick...but new faces started to appear and walk toward Jarven from those retreating. These were young men with guns being brandished and then pointed at Jarven. He raised his shield as the first guy fired at him. He peeked around and ran the numbers in his brain implant connected to his HUD.

He ducked down as he spin and threw the shield with a mighty throw. It hit all five of the gun men. Head, neck, lung, hip and leg, respectively as it traveled down the hallway. The first two were downed because of the trauma to a very sensitive part of the body. The one whose lung was hit staggered back and tried to fire off a couple of highly inaccurate rounds (more so from shock than intent to kill). He shot the first guy, wall ran at the guy clutching his hip who was trying to now aim his gun. He pistol whipped the guy as he came into range, but fell to the floor as they made contact. The last guy, the guy sitting on the ground clutching his leg, was firing from a seated position. Jarven rolled around on the ground, aimed from his prone position and took out the last gun man.

It was over. No one around to worry about anymore. His head sank down and he just laid there from exhaustion and coming off of adrenaline. He really couldn't move, but (thankfully) no one else was moving.

 

[Zmej Ren]

Location: Rakata Beta
Objective: 1
Post: 7


Merely fending the attack off and forcing the enemy forces into retreat was not enough. Zmej Ren wanted more, vivid images of dead Rakata unable to bear inaction while the Supreme Leader’s enemies continued drawing breath. Seeing no other alternative than to continue the pursuit despite several wounded bodies lying across the landing zone, the weary, yet infinitely excited Ren returned among the amassed troopers, face once more concealed beneath the featureless mask. Passion ran high, adrenaline still had to calm down, but none expected more action in the next few hours. Soon enough, these expectations would be shattered as her pace swiftly brought her close, coming to a halt as all eyes found the robed figure’s form. Even the Force warned against hunting after the rebels, but Zmej silence that pesky voice of reason. Earning glory and prestige meant taking impossible risks, paying in blood for every failure, sometimes resulting in death. The greater the battle, the greater the stories though – what else mattered?

“That’s enough rest for now. We need to push deeper into the forest.” Zmej Ren stated decisively, tongue directly attacking anyone who dared to believe otherwise.

“What about our wounded?” A voice from the left questioned, earning its owner a sharp turn of the disciple’s head.

“Either leave them or use the shuttle to get them to safety,” replied the teenager, “But this is about you – men who can continue fighting.”

The disciple looked around, her eyes addressing each face hidden behind the white helmets.

“The insurgents do not expect us to attack this soon. Fear no danger, for the Supreme Leader is watching over you men, the First Order’s backbone! The Force itself granted me a vision of success! Imagine the reward for wiping out the resistance! Each and every one of you a decorated hero! Join me as I venture forth and claim us victory!” Zmej finished, dramatically clenching her fist and marching off into the forest, black cloak billowing in the air.

At first only six followed, swiftly joined by more who didn’t want to miss out, eventually dragging the entire company into tailing the dark disciple. With everyone in tow, Zmej strode to where the enemy retreated, mind reaching out to sense through their deceptive ambushes and similar tactics. One thing was certain - she had planted fear in their hearts. The stormtroopers, on the other hand, happened to stand on the exact opposite of the spectrum. As the Force informed its user, they certainly weren’t afraid, not after witnessing the disciple’s ability to mow the enemy ranks with ease. While none had the Force as an advisor or even a lightsaber, knowing how much damage a single Ren could do offered a massive confidence boost. Morale went through the roof, forgetting exhaustion or worry, blinded by visions of victory and celebrations thorough the First Order space.

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Objective: Build a spaceport in an industrial area
Allies: First Order
Enemies: Unknown
Post: 9/20

"The construction permits are granted"

"I'll have to grant them that: they're expedient when it comes to rebuilding existing derelict stuff"

"They even approved the whole schtick about the white elephant museum being built near the premises! And not just the Rakata museum"

"Probably because so few actually know the real Rakata history that they jumped at the gun"

While the construction permit folks mentioned that, while they preferred Lehon to be playing host to both museums, Star Tours acknowledged that Lehon isn't going to ring a whole lot of bells across the galaxy. Also, Rakata Beta soon being in First Order space would probably help at least First Orderers to come and do business on Rakata Beta. But now that the construction permits are granted, the discussions about what a white elephant is and isn't are cut short. Hundreds of construction workers and droids are on standby, awaiting further instructions to begin construction work. Obviously, the first step would be to repair the tarmac, and later rebuild the terminal. Then and only then can the white elephant museum be built: the master plan outlined by the architects said as much. Hopefully the white ekeohant museum will actually look like a white elephant even if it wasn't a white elephant in the public works sense, she thought, while crossing her fingers in hope that the museum won't prove to be a white elephant in that sense.

"Commence deployment of construction crews!"

 

[Kuzo]

The Shuttle Caliban
Enroute to the Surface
[member="Valessia Brentioch"]

Irajah tugged at her blast vest, consternation written clearly across her face. She'd already been assured that she would be perfectly safe. However that the vest was also perfectly necessary.

This did nothing to reassure her.

"Do you know how to use one of these, Doctor?"

She'd accepted the blaster pistol gingerly.

"I mean yeah, point this end at other people and pull the trigger. Unless I'm missing something."

She couldn't see his face, but could hear the smile in his voice.

"That's the gist, yes. You probably won't have to use it, but better to have it and not need it, right?"

Irajah grimaced. "There are very specific things in the Doctor's Code about killing, I'm not sure I'll be particularly useful no matter what."

Now there was a laugh through the white helmet.

"Well- what does the code say about kneecaps?"

 

[Micah tol Powl]

RAKATA BETA
Location: Knights of Ren Landing Site Echo-7
Nearby: [member="Soleil Ishtar"]
Equipment: Sasori Toolkit | Rusty LBP-2

"Sure."

His voice was soft. So quiet, murmured, that she might not have even caught it before he'd moved away. He'd done what he'd come to do. Water delivered. Job done. Mission complete. Now, exit stage... whatever. This way.

With the quickness, the young Pantoran moved to put as much distance as he could between him and the Weapon of Mass Cootie Destruction that was the girl. She could go back to... painting her toe nails, or whatever else girls did - seriously? toe nails? - and he'd go back to... well, not a whole lot. He'd refilled all of the canteens. And taken the sensory measurements. And then had a stormtrooper show him how to field strip a blaster.

All might have been well.

Until it wasn't.

"All right, we'll check it out."

Looking up, the purple-haired Pantoran saw the stormtrooper captain, FA-1178, walking toward him. A black gloved finger pointed to Boo and then over toward the girl. "A dropship reported losing a comlink in the south ridge, a few clicks from here. TC-9765 is going to check it out. You two are going with him."

A mission... with a girl.

Well, this was just perfect.

 

[Soleil Ishtar]

RAKATA BETA
Location: Knights of Ren Landing Site Echo-7
Nearby: @Boo Chiyo
Equipment: Standard Ren Light Armor | One Force Pike | One standard vibroblade

Why was he running away? Soleil scrunched up her freckled face in bemusement, her nose wiggling in confusion as the blue boy practically ran off as if being chased by an angry Nuna. Well, Nunas could be rather mean. They liked to pluck at your toes and --

"Wait what?" her squeaky, high pitched voice added with mild alarm. We are going where? A double take then she froze, eyes wide as they locked upon the blue skinned boy with the yellow strips on his face -- was that paint????!

"Wait!" she cried out, suddenly moving forward to FA-1178,as if she found out she actually had legs to walk on. "On foot?"

"Negative. You'l be taking the shuttle and flying to the drop point. Then you'll be searching on foot."

The poor girls face blanched. Her throat bobbed.

"We can just go on foot all the way!" she countered, if a little bit alarmed. Suddenly, that attention swung over to Boo, and all that cootie filled pleading look almost begged for him to agree. "Right?"

 

[Jarven Zexxel]

​

Finally, Jarven picked himself up off the ground and walked casually back to the head admin office. If they had been able to cancel local law enforcement calls in the area, that must have meant that these young 'uns on Rakata Beta must be really good with electronics, these days. Numbers and tech were their two strong points. Knowing how to fight seemed to be a weakness. No wonder they were number two on this backwater world with its own weird version of crime.

He stopped in the doorway to find...their leader casually leaning back and smoking a large pile of assorted space drugs that were now on his desk; waiting to be used. The dude seemed to just start usage, so he wasn't out of this world just yet. What the hell kind of person got put in charge whilst harboring such a carefree attitude and the idea that you should get high off your own supply??? On second thought, Jarven knew plenty of drug addicts that were gang leaders and this planet and its weird people were proving to be a major exception to traditional crime structure...

Jarven walked forward slid all the drugs off the table and onto the floor and slammed his hands down. He quietly stared at the somewhat carefree, somewhat upset "crime lord" in front of him.

"What's your name, dude?"

"Jimmy, mate."

"Alright, Jimmy Mate. I want you to lead me to the relic?"

"Relic, mate?"

"Yes. The relic of power that your gang has become popular from."

"Oh, yeah..." replied Jimmy as he started poking around in his messy desk. He suddenly stopped, looked up at Jarven and asked nonchalantly,

"You're going to kill me if I don't give it to you, right?" Jarven sighed.

"Yyyes..."

"Oh, okay. Just checking. You never know 'til you ask, you know?" Jarven declined to answer.

Jimmy finally pulled a small box out of the bottom drawer, wiped some Cheeto chip fingerprints off the surface and opened it before turning it over to Jarven.

Jarven was absolutely mystified by the compliance of this so-called crime lord of the Red Packers. He was even more confused when he found out that the almighty, powerful relic of power turned out to be a dumb looking knife. It wasn't even nice looking. It looked ancient, crude and made out of some really weak rock material. In fact, he tried to pick it up by the handle, gripped it just a bit too tightly and the handle crumbled to pieces. He cupped the busted hilt end in his hand and picked it up more carefully; the dagger end pointing straight up from his palm.

"This...this is it???"

"Yeah, mate. That's it."

"It's a fething, useless knife!"

"Nah, brah! It's a wicked tool of power with crazy brooding flows, dude!"

This was useless. Pointless, even. Now it all made sense. The Infinitum was the established number one, but didn't nearly have the numbers to take on the Red Packers. The Red Packers were the cool group and they had a "wicked relic, yo", which brought all the young gangster wannabes in droves. The Red Packers were a thorn that Infinitum wanted removed, but they were equally clueless that the relic had just been that: a relic. Infinitum was afraid of the unknown. The only logical conclusion to finish all of this out was the cut the head of the serpent and let the boys run back home to momma'.

"Hold this for me, would ya'?" asked Jarven before plunging the knife into Jimmy's throat. Jimmy didn't stand a chance. The knife went through the back and punched out the back. The blade that came through the flesh poked out the back, but it had partially snapped. Black liquid came oozing out of the knife's core. So, it turned out to be an ancient poison blade...Great. Still worthless.

Jarven turned his back on the still body collapsed over the table. When he got to the door, however, he started to hear a strange...gurgling noise coming from the desk. It sounded like wet, slippery offal getting played with by hands.

Jarven turned around...​