First Order: The World Turned Upside Down [T1 of Kaeshana]

[LT-137]

Location: Kaeshana System - Pirate Base.
Allies: The First Order, Valessia Brentioch.
Enemies: Pirate Scum.
Objective: Escort and Protect the Ambassador. Engage Hostiles.
Post Count: 10/20

Smugglers. Pirates. It didn’t matter what the enemy had called themselves. They were slaughtered like the cattle they were. One by one, Torian’s Squad begun to fall prey to the homefield advantage. They were the nearest squad available to assist the FOSB in their duties, and as such they rushed into the fray - with little concern for their enemy - let alone their personal safety. Soon, after several corridors of heated exchanges, the Sergeant was the last man standing. He was alone within enemy held territory. Outnumbered and outgunned…

They stood no chance.

 

[Hogrum Veed]

Post 12.
Victory-X Star Destroyer, Devastator.

The Captain watched as the corvettes came up alongside the Devastator's docking clamps and latched onto them. The entire Heavy Cruiser rumbled slightly as the clamps were locked on. Without a doubt, holes were being drilled into the side of the ship.

Shameful.

Hogrum waited for the Captain to make a move, and when he didn't, Hogrum took charge.

"Captain, follow me! There is nothing else for the Bridge Crew to do."

There was a nod, and seemingly mindlessly, the Captain followed, perhaps a little too happily to get off the bridge as they headed off. On his datapad, the young Veed had pulled a current status report of the ship and the breach points. The troop transports that were assaulting the Devastator were nearby. Soon, the Captain would be disposed of.

Hogrum knew it.

 

[Darth Metus]

--//EN ROUTE TO KAESHANA//--

With only an estimate five minutes standing between ApeX and their destination, Malok gave but a wave of his hand. The Communications officer set out to work, opening a line of contact across the HoloNet. The ApeX Commander did not know who he would be connected with, but some Imperial-minded individual was about to be greeted by a rather menacing figure. Whether appearing as a holographic projection or an up-close on a large screen depended on the recipient, but regardless Malok began to speak.

"Greetings. My name is Malok."

To coincide with this greeting, the Behemoth placed his fist upon his chest.

"I am Commander of ApeX, a private military corporation. We have come seeking employment by your esteemed nation. Let us fight for you."

The message was simple, short, and to the point.

 

[Brent Smith]

Location: Deep cover, pirate base
Post: 4
Status: Sabotaging the Pirate Defenses
Alias: Jones Logan

Power. That would be the difference between success and failure. Not power in the political or figurative sense, but power as in the literal, electrical sense. He turned down a corridor into the next room over. Behind him he could hear ruckus being raised. He was leaving too many bodies in his wake, and things were starting to pile up. Sooner than later they would find him, it was all a matter of completing his mission first.

The agent found the power room. A few well placed shots disabled the lock and hinges on the door, it fell in ward with a shove and a loud clang.

"That could have gone better," he muttered to himself stepping inside.

Brent set the bucket up in the middle of the room, burrying the battery deep in the rivets, only its two prongs stood out. Brent nodded satisfied, his hands nimbly holding the copper wire in place and activating the instawelder. A few sparks began to fly through the air for a few moment. That was all he needed. The agent rose to his feet as the wire began to glow with a heat, warming rapidly. The current would pass between the two prongs, rapidly heating the battery up and charging itself infinately. Soon--and by soon he meant in fifteen seconds if he was lucky--the battery would explode. He sprinted through a hall, down two passages, slamming into a pair of guards.

"There he is!" shouted one, bringing his rifle to bear on Brent.

A tremendeous explosion brought the lights out, and Brent followed it with a salvo of shots.

[member="Torian Pierce"]

 

[KH-5675]

LOCATION: Kaeshana, Surface
OBJECTIVE: Unload Shuttle
ALLIES: First Order {No PCs Nearby}
{2/20}

They made rapid progress, easily emptying half the shuttle in under a minute. The back and forth was tedious, but at least mildly strenuous, and most of the troops found at least a few droplets of sweat dripping down their foreheads. For the most part Esker was fine. Before he had joined the First Order, he had worked as a farmhand on his homeworld of Naboo. Day after day he had carried equipment around, helped wrangle the livestock, and plowed the fields. While working in armor was something he was still getting used to, simply exerting himself was as familiar to him as breathing. None of his brethren were exhausted by the task, of course, but a few felt the results of their effort more than the rest. Regardless, they were still able to make quick work of the task. Before long the last of the crates had been unloaded, placed upon the ground for the time being, and the scientists' shuttle was on approach.

"Don't get comfy yet, boys, we've still got to get this chit set up," the Sergeant reminded them, voice as firm as ever. He seemed to be somewhat of a grouch, from what Esker could tell, but the man knew how to keep a squad in line. That alone was enough to earn him the ex-farmboy's respect. "Get ready to move, the squints aren't going to let us rest until every last piece of equipment is exactly where they say it belongs, understood?"

Once again there was a chorus of acknowledgements, Esker's being just slightly louder than the others.

 

[Hansen]

Elsa Kurze
Kaeshana Orbit

A lone T-70 X-wing drops out of hyperspace perhaps to the shock of Naval Crewmen aboard the Concordia and other First Order vessels, a cursory scan of its IFF signature returns no identification information, a pirate or smuggler! One must assume. "This is Crimson One to all TIE wings, allow me to show you how it's done." Elsa's left-hand reaches forward and pushes up a switch down and the IFF Signature onboard the T-70 X-wing will suddenly broadcast a 'friendly' identification to all First Order sensors and of course 'Phantom One' was the callsign for a Starfighter registered in the First Order Navy as an asset owned by First Order Security Bureau....How curious for any naval officer or pilot who bother to make that search. "Lowie, set foils to attack position." Elsa's gloved left-hand claps the throttle tightly and inches it back steadily, and pulls the HOTAS straight to the right and depresses a pedal sending the T-70 into a quick barrel roll as a boast of skill before her the throttle finds itself shot against the frame of the cockpit, the fighter abruptly launches forward and the inertial dampener pulls Elsa's stomach back towards the seat this prompts an arrogant cackle from the 'Mandalorian' Pilot.

A pilot fighter arcs around the broadside of a stolen corvette and two bursts of red lasers narrowly miss Elsa's X-wing, Elsa's eyes shoot open and she pulls the red trigger on her HOTAS back towards her bellybutton, Elsa's lasers hit the craft without incident, blowing it apart around its pilot. A pull to the right, although she cannot avoid him. The alien pirate is vaporised against an extended foil and solicits only an annoyed grunt from the pilot. Elsa's X-wing hugs the surface of the pirate ships' hull closely until getting underneath it at which points she safely breaks away from it, down towards a group of pirate craft harassing a pair of TIE fighters. Their frightened voices fill her helmet. "Hold on gray one, I'm coming!"