FO Dominion of Terminus | Disorder Has Its Consequences

[Isobel Nakano]

As the edginess caused by the distraction subsided, Isobel returned to her seat with Chirondal. They spoke about what she could offer him -- from a business perspective, of course, and he seemed to be interested. They got down to terms rather quickly because, as Chirondal said, he wanted to lock it up before Ryz'kil got a chance to horn in on the deal. The discussion ended with a handshake and an exchange of business cards, then -- the moment Isobel had been waiting for. "Shall we drink on it?" he asked.

"Chin chin," she answered, lifting her glass and touching it to his for a moment. She drained her glass in one long, burning gulp, and he did the same.

"What about a little celebration to seal the deal?" asked Chirondal, leaning closer to her. Men, thought the agent. Gamorrean or human, they're all bloody pigs.

She forced a wan smile. "What a good idea," she said. "I've got to check in with my office, but perhaps you could come to my hotel for drinks in my suite. I've a spare key in my handbag."

She stood and walked over to the room to get it from the bodyguard, who looked beyond her to the boss, who apparently approved, because the bodyguard handed it back. But by the time Isobel had reached into her purse, she heard a choking, gurgling noise and turned back to the table. Now it was time to earn her paycheck -- killing the man was easy enough, but pretending to be shocked and horrified? That was tough. She put her hand to her mouth as the poison did its work, essentially melting Chirondal from his mouth and cheeks, down his throat, to his stomach. Blood began to seep from his mouth, dribbling down his chin before his entire upper body collapsed in a torrent of gore.

Isobel screamed, and screamed, and screamed.

Another pair of gang guards came running and when they saw the poison -- poison whose effects they knew all to well from it being deployed against their gang before -- they demanded to know what happened. Isobel continued to scream incoherently, collapsing to her knees in supposed horror. The guards, knowing they would get nothing useful out of her, began to talk to the bodyguard. Had he left them alone, they asked? No! Had anyone had access to the drink? No! As they continued to interrogate the bodyguard, and one of them hauled Isobel to her feet and gave her a firm slap to bring her to her senses, others circled Ryz'kil's group on the main dance floor. This led to Ryz'kil's reinforcements standing off against them.

It was pandemonium. Once the bodykeeper had his pockets turned out, any chance for a peaceful resolution was over. "Is not mine!" he shouted, drawing his blaster in response to the one being drawn on him. "I swear is not mine! She must have brought!"

"Me?" Isobel demanded, still rubbing her pink cheek. "You took my handbag before we came in. That's not possible. Besides, I came here to do business with Chirondal, not kill him. But didn't I see you talking to that pig just before we came in here?" She hadn't, but that was enough to get the two guards to jam the blaster to his chest and demand that he move. One of the guards told her to wait there. Isobel nodded, but she had no intention of complying.

"You bastard!" she heard the bodyguard shout from the main floor. "I don't know how you do it but I kill you for it!"

Isobel pulled the door open and watche as the bodyguard leapt out of custody and tackled the Gamorrean. The fragile peace was broken as laserfire erupted. Isobel helped herself to the cash from the bodyguard's jacket pocket, drew her holdout blaster from its thigh holster, and headed into the melee, making for the exit.

[member="Val Kordova"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Objective: Recon
Allies: [member="Pierce Fortan III"] | [member="Siegmund Greyhelm"]

The explanation leveled by their Captain was as much that as a silent chastisement for the rookie's questions. Fortan made good points. Turning his thoughts to the task at hand his hands went to work at the controls as well as the console in front of him. Readouts flooded his HUD as the pilot prepped his system for jamming operations. "Hey RB, see if you can't get those scanners aligned. I'm getting ghost feed off to starboard." With a whir of excitement the droid got to work, colorful pulses of light flashing on the visor of his helmet. "That's looking good Three."

Turning to another panel, Ryker hit a few more switches until he heard a notable change in tone from the engines. On the tail end of their flight leader's transmission, he keyed up his own. :: Jamming Sequence Active. :: In a few moments, a shrill tone chirped in Ryker's ear, his alert was soon to follow. :: Devil Five. Alert Sector Two, fifteen thousand meters. Two bogeys, unknown profile. ::

 

[Progflaw99]

Objective: Deliver Package, Create a Diversion, Start a Gang War
Allies: [member="Isobel Nakano"]

The shrill scream from the back of the club cut through the sound like a vibroblade through flesh and bone. From her place behind the stage, her eyes flicked towards the exit, two large Besalisks slowly making their way towards the door where her compatriot yet lingered. *That's going to be a problem.* Slipping around the corner of the main stage the agent's hand lingered towards the small of her back - tucked beneath the outer jacket and just above the appropriated utility belt rest her holdout blaster. As time seemed to slow, Val grew more and more convinced she'd end up having to use it. She could feel the tension in the air, like a lurking beast waiting for just the right moment to snap up its prey in oversized, powerful jaws. And then it broke.

The unmistakable sound of blaster fire erupted from behind the door, spilling out onto the main dance floor as gansters began gunning down anyone who wasn't one of their crew. Screams followed both from those injured and those caught in the crossfire. Taking cover herself as bolts flew around in a flurry, Val saw a flicker of movement as Lotus emerged from the room and immediately cut towards the exit. One problem. The Besalisks were still between her and the door. As much faith as she had in Lotus' abilities, she would at best be able to take down one on her own, their thick skin and penchant for strength enough to ensure she wouldn't make it. *The hell with that.* In the madness, no one took notice of the lithe agent, utility belt casually dropped to the floor, her hand withdrawing the cold durasteel of her blaster.as she stepped almost oblivious towards the turned backs of the two bouncers.

*Slow breath. Exhale. Squeeze the trigger.* Amidst the cacophony of the gunfight turned melee turned pandemonium, Mockingbird and her blaster were the least of anyone's worries - at least, until her shot found its berthing place in the back of her target's head. A smoking crater of singed flesh and gore sent the large alien's body slamming to the floor. Val had been so focused on making sure her shot counted, she hadn't managed to see how Lotus had fared and now frantically tried to locate her through the din. She could see the hulking form of the remaining Besalisk, but beyond was obscured. She took a risk then, one she normally would not have... "Look out!" she shouted. Whether it would help or not she didn't know - but she couldn't stand by idly.

 

[Dominic Craig]

Post: IV
Objective: Survive.

The agent awoke, stripped of his belongings, wearing only his shirt, now bloodied, and his briefs. His hands dangled from the ceiling, suspending him. His whole body sore from the beatings. It seemed even while unconscious, they wouldn't stop. Before him, a guard launched another barrage of punches into his gut. The Gamorrean squealing with glee as thick, green fists bruised already sensetive skin. Dominic rocked with each punch, his body hostage to this beast as it sought some perverse pleasure from his predicament.

But, with each swing, Dominic inversely felt a great deal of weight come over him. His bindings, were tearing. Bit by bit. And with the right time, he may be able to act. But patience was key, was a virtue for Dominic. And with each punch, and gruff demand of an answer to the monsters questions, his resolve tightened. His captor grew tired of questions, and now swore, before gesturing to the far corner. A table sat, laid out with instruments of torture. Crude ones, unlike the syringes and needles Dominic used, but nonetheless, enough of a distraction. While the torturer went for them, turning his back, Dominic swang and swang, until snap. The bindings finally eroded.

The guard was unaware, as he toyed menacingly with the drill. T'was the last thing he ever did, before the same bindings he'd tied, slid around his throat, and squeezed the life from him.

 

[Graf's Archive Account]

Lieutenant Greyhelm couldn't help but smile slightly as the captain's voice came over the comms again, this time directed at him in particular. :: Devil Five, everything's under control. Situation normal. We're fine, thank you. How are you? :: He broadcasted over the frequency, hearing a snicker of approval from his gunner when he did so. "Keep the missile launcher powered down back there, we don't need an unexpected launch during a dogfight or something else," Siegmund called back to his counterpart, receiving a quick acknowledgement.

When the order came through to start jamming, he quickly flipped the switch and glanced over at the display as his ship's pair of jammers activated. His ears perked up at a transmission from Devil Six, describing possible hostiles in the area. His thumbs instinctively slid over the firing mechanisms on his flight stick, eyeing the blips on his radar.

 

[Lucius Draugh]

Lucius was sent to Terminus with a platoon of rookies to create a bond with the next generation of soldiers. To prove that he was indeed a suitable leader and was deserving of their respect, and if needed; fear.

The Bureau suggested that there was a Jedi present on Terminus. They were hiding themselves in the Force, difficult to detect for him, but when they did reveal themselves, they tended to cut through his stormtroopers, too far away for him to arrive in time. They never killed his troopers though. Emerald orbs swept his grouping. Fifty soldiers he had come with, thirty-seven were still in fighting condition. The others? Dismembered in multiple ambushes throughout the day.

Lucius' gaze scoured the group of sergeants that was present with him. Four still active, they had a plan, one that he was barely listening to.

"We gotta trap em somehow."

"Lure em into an alley."

"We can try."

"I've got less than half my men. Ain't no way we're catching a Jedi like this."

"S-"

"We get them underground," Lucius said. "Last report said the Jedi was seen in our district, nearby. They've gotta be out maneuvering us somehow." Amongst the adults, he raised a hand, small in comparison, to scratch his face. "Your remaining squads, you and you, Brax and Tex, twelve between you both, you'll run point." Lucius scanned the features of the annoyed, tired and beaten soldiers. "Tyrus' squad runs the flank, herds the Jedi into their hiding place."

Lucius' chewed on his inner cheek.

"The rest in the tunnels with me. We'll take down the Jedi in the caves."

There were skeptical glances all around, save for Brax's gaze, from what he could see of it. He was already slipping his helmet back on over his head. "Yes, Sir."

 

[Dominic Craig]

Post V
Objective: Recon

The guard was not a well armed one. It showed a sense of arrogance, clearly he didn't think his victims would fight back. But Dominic had showed him well, that he was just the exception. Cleaving the pistol from his waistband, the First Order Special Agent slipped out of the small room he'd been imprisoned in. Where he was now was apparently a cavern of sorts. It seemed this had been a new addition. The floors were rock, and dirt, and the only lights, lanterns. Smuggling. This was some sort of smuggling ring.

Creeping through the tightly and lazily dug caverns, Dominic began to hear the sounds of distant movement. Away from him, from what he could gather, as well as voices. It seemed to him, that he would be able to see the centre of operations imminently. And as such, primed his freshly looted pistol, before proceeding. And that's when he saw it. The passage opened up into a grander cavern, it seemed. One dominated by access into what seemed to be sewer tunnels, and directly in the middle of it all, a mass of machinary and men. Perhaps smuggling wasn't all these scum were doing. It seemed that this was some narcotics production base.

One, Dominic intended to destroy.

 

[Isobel Nakano]

Isobel hadn't accounted for the bouncers; she figured they'd be happy to let people out since their main function was to prevent them from getting in. But these two were clearly not interested in letting any perpetrators escape, nor were they willing to get one guilty go free if a hundred innocent joined them. Their muscular arms -- four of them between the pair -- swung around, shoving patrons away from the door. "NO GETTIN' OUT TIL ALL THIS IS SORTED!" one of them bellowed, while the other barred the door. With his back turned to the melee, he never saw the blaster bolt that put him down. Isobel didn't see where it came from; she, like the others, ducked to the ground when the blasterfire continued afresh.

She thought she heard a familiar voice calling over the din. She turned to see Mockingbird with a blaster in hand and nodded, and pushed her way back through the crowd towards her. "This is no longer a tenable situation," Isobel informed her dryly over the din. She lifted her blaster and pumped two shots into an approaching gang member. "We're not getting any less conspicuous, here. We need to get out of the middle of this! What about the ladies?" She pointed over Val's shoulder to where the restrooms were.

"Maybe there's a window?"

[member="Val Kordova"]

 

[Natasi Fortan]

:: Stay sharp, Devils :: Pierce called over the communicator. "Bartoo, get me a sensor scan on those bogeys."

Pierce led the flight towards them, hoping to get a sensor reading on them before they were spotted. Whatever they were, their communications were jammed, so Pierce wasn't terribly concerned about them radioing back.

:: INFORMATIVE RESPONSE: CRAFT APPEAR TO BE LIGHT ATTACK CRAFT OF UNKNOWN ORIGIN; SIGNATURES DO NOT MATCH KNOWN GALACTIC ALLIANCE OR RELATED SIGNATURES ::

"Understood. Relay information to Six and Seven," Pierce told Bartoo. "Patch it back to mothership, too."

:: DELCARATIVE STATEMENT: AFFIRMATIVE, BEGINNING TRANSMISSION NOW ::

Without warning, the attack craft changed courses quickly, angling towards the TIEs. :: We're going to have company! :: Pierce called to his comrades. :: Weapons free. Let's take 'em down. ::

 

[Hansen]

Lieutenant Colonel Daan DT-130
Terminus Surface, Outside Barzini Family Bunker
Objective: Gang Wars

Laying amidst the green foliage concealed as well as a seven feet tall prone teal power-armour clad warrior could be hidden amongst lush trees, tall grass and wiry shrubs. They are waiting for the arrival of the Barzini family's senior leadership, Unconventional Warfare Division believed they would seek shelter in the comprehensive bunker complex they'd had constructed into Terminus' crust once the Gang Wars began in earnest as orchestrated by the First Order Security Bureau. Daan keeps G-12A Rifle Shouldered with the helmeted-mounted display magnifying intensely, she examines the first checkpoint she and the newly deployed Tanomas who had been freshly released from post augmentation procedure physical therapy. "How are you feeling Tanomas?" Daan queries the significantly older Trooper although his new appearance heavily belied the true number of winters and summers the man had lived through. Brass visor turns inwards towards Daan's right shoulder narrowing blue spheres on Tanomas' visage, she thought he had felt out of place communicated through his body language along with perhaps a hint of timidity. "If you can believe it I have it on good authority that Kyli couldn't stand immediately post operation, takes some time getting acclimatising to the new things your body can do." Pausing again Daan couldn't help but smile softly while recalling her own physical therapy with a certain fondness thanks to the compassionate medical staff who tended to the woman.


Daan's gaze shifts over to her clenched fists around rifle inspecting them casually. "Couldn't stop shaking myself, every little sensation was painfully magnified and my brain wanted to twist and acknowledge every single little bit of stimulus. It wasn't pleasant, for a while I even felt regret for volunteering for the procedure and training." A brief pause is followed by an attempt to offer support to the former Imperator who Daan felt was a kindred spirit of sorts being in an organisation where he felt out of place, Daan was no career soldier she was a scholar who now performed actions good and both she would have never conceived of performing for the Realm.

[member="Tanomas Graf"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Objective: Deliver Package, Create a Diversion, Start a Gang War, Get out alive - together.
Allies: [member="Isobel Nakano"]

"No longer tenable is the understatement of the year!" Val shouted above the din, ducking low as a laser bolt cut her shadow in half. "Get down!" With a rather unceremonious shove, Mockingbird pushed her towards the ladies room as suggested. "Window or no, we don't have another option!" In a mad dash the pair would run towards the closed door, Val not even taking the time to aim but simply firing at muzzle flashes and trying not to slip on the floor or any of the bodies on it. As they came to the halfway mark Val decided to do something stupid. A shimmer of light reflecting off of something on the floor caught her eye, a dangerous idea barely forming before she took the initiative. "Don't stop!" she shouted as she deviated from their beeline.

Stooping low without changing her stride, Val scooped up the item that she'd spotted earlier - a carbine of some sort. The blaster weapon would give them the extra oomph should push come to shove. *An equalizer.* They were in it now, and while they wished to remain inconspicuous - it was better to have a backup plan. Righting her tack, Mockingbird pushed herself harder, nearly catching up with Lotus as they crashed through the closed door. The moment they were in, Val pressed her back to it, ensuring it stayed closed an no one else was creeping up behind them. Taking a few deep breaths she attempted to regain her composure. It was then that she looked to the weapon she now had in her hands. The sight of the familiar curve of the receiver and the vertical grip almost brought tears to her eyes. If the gods were real, they were certainly watching out for her that day. It hadn't been some homemade weapon of questionable quality - this was an EE-4. "Are you hit?" She asked, eyes darting to her companion.

 

[Dominic Craig]

Post: VI
Objective: Sabotage

Slipping down from the upper level, Dominic slid in and out of sight, using crates, as well as the terrain to his advantage. It felt like Kaeshana all over again. Duck and cover. Wait and move. Dominic proceeded until he reached what seemed to be the ventilation system of some kind of generator. He kneeled behind it, and began to take off its grill. Peeling and screwing it off with the bumps, and grunts of the machinary. It was a crude machine, but some of its components were well made. A jab here, a little cord snapped there, and it was a cauldron of potentially explosive proportions. Now for the fuse....

And then the alarm was sounded. Some garbled mix of Mando'a and Twi'lek, as a gargantuan mix of human and Twi'lek looked at him with a rifle butt planted clearly at his head. Dominic froze, and dropped the bulky pistol from his palm, letting it rest on a rock. The sound of rushing boots on stone as they came to gawk at their prize. The situation as it had developed, was not necessarily ideal for a clandestine operation. Dominic scowled. It seemed now, his improvisation required improvisation.

 

[Isobel Nakano]

Isobel obeyed Mockingbird's commands, taking her shove as encouragement as she scrambled across the floor towards the facilities, nearly tripping over a fallen body -- dead or alive, she couldn't say -- on the way. She crouched in the doorway and fired her blaster, providing her colleague with some cover as she came across the floor. When Mockingbird approached, Isobel hauled the door open and went in, holding it open for Val. "No," Isobel gasped; she hadn't realized that she had been holding her breath in apprehension til just then. She cast her gaze around the dimly-lit room and seized upon a metal garbage can, tipping it over and jamming it between the door and one of the columns holding the stall door in place. It wasn't a perfect fit, but it would frustrate efforts to open the door, at the very least.

Momentarily secure, Isobel tucked her sunglasses into her handbag before turning to look at Val. "Oh no -- I wasn't, but you were," said Isobel, going to Val's side and guiding her in front of the mirror, where a blaster bolt had burned through the forearm of her uniform. "Look at your arm! Can you not feel it?" But even as she spoke, she knew that muscular though it may be, it was no ordinary arm. There was a rattle at the door and Isobel twitched with her blaster in hand.

"Are you OK to keep moving?" Isobel asked. "I hate to sound callous but I don't think we have the option. There's a window in that stall." She gestured in the mirror to the stall directly behind the two women.

[member="Val Kordova"]

 

[Progflaw99]

Objective: Recon
Allies: [member="Pierce Fortan III"] | [member="Siegmund Greyhelm"]

*Hold formation. Hold formation.* He'd done it in the simulator hundreds, even thousands of times and yet somehow this was different. More harrowing, more stressful. More real. This wasn't just a holo-display, those weren't just input and output boards - he was in a real TIE Fighter in a real void. He could feel the pit of his stomach flop as they accelerated to combat speed, the two blips on his scanners getting ever closer. Nervously he watched the meter indicator tick down. He shook his head, blinking furiously as a bead of sweat managed to escape the wicking headband and drop into his eye. "Blast it! - Keep those bogeys in front of us RB!"

With a swift unfastening, he gave his helmet a shift, resealing the sweat band to his forehead. What a time for things to go wrong. As he reseated the helmet he cursed under his breath, trying to peer out of the viewport. :: No visual on contacts, no visual on contacts! They're bearing down on us hard now. Can you guys see anything?! ::

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Boy. Boy. Crazy boy. Get cool, boy.
Gotta rocket in your pocket, keep coolie cool boy!

:: That's a negative on the panic, Devil Six :: Pierce tried to imbue his voice with the right balance of calm, cool, and gravitas. He had been in @Ryker Astreides' position before -- early days, not a lot of experience, and suddenly faced with the very real possibility that he could be in the unforgiving void of space with just one wrong move. :: There's a reason God invented radar and sensors, Six. Use 'em til you get your peepers on the enemy. We're going to come in range of autoblasters shortly. Get your targeting computers ready. And Six? :: He paused, a smirk in his voice that he hoped was comforting. :: Remember to breathe. ::

Luckily for the TIE fighters, the pirates shot first, revealing their positions. Pierce chuckled. "All too easy."

:: INTERROGATIVE: BEGIN AUTOBLASTER SEQUENCE? :: BB-10R2 chittered across the screen.

"That's a bingo," Pierce chimed. He clicked his team frequency. :: You should be able to see them now. If you can't, stick on me and shoot where I shoot. :: The thrum-thrum-thrum of the autoblasters began, and Pierce accelerated, matching his speed to the attack craft. They were uglies, from what he could see from this distance -- bastardized from multiple crafts. Non-standard, and probably not likely to stand up to the First Order's air superiority. :: Don't forget to dodge. Don't fly in one straight line at all times, but stay close. Like -- :: His voice cut off as the craft's gunners targeted them, and Pierce performed a rolling strafe of the side closest, the autoblasters and his laser cannons stitching damage across the ship's hull.

:: Any damage? Still holding steady, Seven? :: he called into the channel.

[member="Siegmund Greyhelm"]

 

[Luther Lewis]

Objective: Monitor Agents, Ready Extraction
Location: First Order Warehouse – Radio & Dispatch
Allies: [member="Val Kordova"] | [member="Isobel Nakano"] | [member="Dominic Craig"]

His feet made a rhythmic ‘tap tap’ as he crossed the concrete floor of the warehouse. The large building was a maze, its once-cavernous space now full. A makeshift armory dominated one end of the warehouse, the middle a labyrinth of metal wrecks they were using as transports. The other end, his destination, was the communication hub for FOSB working in the area. As he approached, he could hear a low murmur of voices, undercutting the loud beeps and clicks of the equipment.

Mendez looked up at Luther’s approach, scowling. “Took your time, Ando” the man’s tone was harsh, but low. The man was no doubt more exhausted than Luther. “You’re the one who cut my nap short, Mendez” Luther replied curtly. He wasn’t scheduled to swap with the man for another four hours, but Mendez had insisted he be woken. “Just tell me what’s going on”.

Mendez grunted. “I need a second opinion. As far as we are aware, Mockingbird has contacted Lotus. We saw her enter the…” “Wait wait” Luther interrupted. “Are you babysitting the agents?” Luther asked incredulously. “This is a clandestine operation. You risk blowing the operation with this”. Mendez rolled his eyes. “I just had someone tailing her until she entered, she’s alone now”. Luther let out a sigh. “But” Mendez continued. “That same agent heard blaster shots coming from her location. Should I send back up?” Luther pinched the bridge of his nose and stopped himself from sighing again. “Absolutely not” Luther said. “Look, Kordova is a capable agent, don’t compromise her cover by rushing in at the first sign of trouble”. Mendez said nothing, but let out a hesitant nod.

“What about Craig?” Luther said, looking around for a cup of caf. Mendez hesitated, before speaking up. “Honestly, I don’t know. He hasn’t called in, but he might not be in a position to” Mendez’ brow furrowed. “He’s a bit of a wild card, but he should be fine”.

Luther ran his fingers through his hair and turned to stare out at the hulking vessels that filled the warehouse. They were in poor condition, vehicles bought cheap, salvaged and reconstructed from other ships. But that was the point. They needed untraceable ships for exfil.

“How come you haven’t sent these out yet?” Luther asked, an edge to his voice. He and Mendez usually had different methods, he had been hoping to go one day without arguing. “I thought we’d wait a bit” Mendez replied. “Reduce the chances of them being stolen before the agents retrieve them”. Luther frowned. “But you’ve told me some agents have already made contact, we need to send them out now”. Mendez stared at him, unblinking. It was then Luther realized how tired the man actually was.

“I…I…” Mendez started. “Get some rest” Luther interrupted. “I’ll handle it from here”. The man hesitated then finally acquiesced, relief clear on his face. Luther watched him leave, the ‘tap tap’ fading until it was drowned out but the sounds around him.

“Get in contact with on-site pilots” Luther commanded a nearby radio officer. “Have them start manning the vessels”.

* * * * *​

Slowly, the patchwork ships started leaving the warehouse, individually, and with long gaps so as not to alert suspicions. They would touch down in various parts of the city and wait there for a time. Their objective? Provide extraction for any agents, should they need it.

 

[Tanomas Graf]

Imperator Tanomas Graf​

Location: Terminus Surface, Barzini Family Bunker​

Equipment: DARKSABER Powered Armour | T-8B Precision Carbine​

​

​

​

Strange.

That was the only word that could describe how Tanomas Graf, or 'DT-808' as he was designated, felt after he finished receiving REVENANT in its entirety. Before that, he had felt purely human, strong and virile as ever - but afterwards, he felt...strange.

Powerful and robust would've been good words to describe it, but there was a constant pain that accompanied him as his body acclimated itself to the augmentations, granted he was also taller by almost a good foot. Graf was also rather disenchanted with the notion of having to wear heavy armour, opting to have worn a uniform for the last few decades.

"Different," he said, checking the magazine on his carbine, "You wouldn't have been able to tell, but I was an admiral and a politician before this. Now I apparently know forty different ways to kill somebody with my bare hands." He let out a slight chuckle "I suppose I should warn you, I haven't been on the field in about forty years."

 

[Dominic Craig]

Post: VII
Objective: Finisher

Dominic raised his hands, and slowly stood as the Twi'lek hybrid commanded, at least until he quickly grabbed the rifle butt, and pushed it up to the guard's head, knocking him off balance. The rifle fell from his hands, and stayed in Dominic's, who now riddled the gangster with blaster bolts. He could already hear the oncoming mass of boots, marching toward him, and began to open fire into the open vent. The vent spewed molten flame, and the machines around the cave began to whine and groan. It was time to go.

Moving out of cover, Dominic now began to shoot from the hip, moving quickly and efficiently to the surface. The destruction of the mafioso's machine took all attention. Smaller explosions rippled through the cave, sending hostiles head over heels. Others tried to shoot back at Dominic, but were felled by his expert hand. Those who tried to flee before him, were gunned down relentlessly by the FOSB man. The cave began to now fall in on itself, and Dominic ran. Those who got in his way, soon perished in the panic, he could feel the flames lapping behind him. It was an an adrenaline pumper. Dominic spurred on by the need to survive.

Sprinting out of the basement door, Dominic dove, onto the ground, while an explosion ripped through a warehouse. After about two minutes of consistent flame, and heat, Dominic stood up. Naked, but for a tattered and singed singlet, and a pair of briefs, the FOSB agent lamented the loss of his pack of cigarettes. But, all things said, this was mission accomplished.

 

[LaoTzu]

Objective: Resistance to the FO
Post: 1

Assets in Orbit:

• 
  [*] Rusur Akaan'ade 100% / 100%
• 5x Dire-class Patrol ships (Flight Group Charlie)
• 40 Shock Trooper Mandalorians per Patrol Ship

Lao slowly and almost without a care in the world of Terminus finished a thug's poor choice in cigars seated at said thug's table in his moderate home some where on Terminus.

Lao had been here a while, probably a few Galactic days at max, but that didn't prevent money and blasters from talking. He had been wearing his armor of the Vitae Alliance the entire time. He suspected no one had any clue of his Mandalorian loyalties or his assets in orbit currently. He had gotten the run around with the Underground many years prior and some of those assets were still around, which was why he was here. To collect and make good on a different move. Something more permanent in this neck of the woods.

He had managed to obtain a number of assets to get himself a warehouse district, but that didn't perk his interest or get blood moving. It was when his comms link to his ships interrupted a meeting he was having with some mid level thug. The comms link to ship stipulated some sort of FO presence on the planet side. Where and what, that was up for discussions. But there was some traffic, how ever minor. Lao didn't mind the killing and taking out this thug. He had enough arms and skills with him to clear the room without using the Force. But it was the fact that there was even a minor First Order presence on the planet that got his interest and he knew he had to introduce himself.

He didn't know who they were nor how many nor where they were, but it didn't phase him. He was here on a mission from his Alor. Over a separate commlink he heard rising tensions about a gang war. He suspected that, that was to destabilize the region or area. Something he would do, but he would have done it at a large scale, something to destabilize the Terminus government. But that's him and he knew he had a history of going for broke.

Lao put out the cigar, he didn't care for it. On the table in front of him, there was a dead body and various slugs all of the same type in front of him as he refreshed his mags and wondered about his next move. There would be something done. He had enough info to move on.

[member="Aedan Miles"] [member="Val Kordova"]

 

[Hansen]

Lieutenant Colonel Daan DT-130
Terminus Surface, Outside Barzini Family Bunker
Objective: Gang Wars

Daan smiles at Tanomas' answer, the Sergeant confessed to a previous profession of both Politician and Admiral and Daan muses wordlessly that her suspicions of their kindred bond in prior uninitiated to terrestrial combat is indeed valid. Reaching across the small distance between Daan clasps down right-hand atop one of Tanomas' rear cuirass mounted ion thrusters and gives the man a friendly camaraderie-filled shake. "Oh come on, that's not so bad! I was a Xenoanthropologist and Archeologist working for the Grand Moff's office, used to provide advice to the diplomatic staff when engaging foreign governments, especially aliens since Xenos culture and language was my major." Daan chuckles outwardly at his statement about not seeing field work in years, prior to her training and augmentation as a Death Trooper, Daan hadn't so much as held a blaster little alone fire one in anger to exaggerate the point Daan didn't even privately own weapons as a Citizen prior to Officer School viewing violence as rather barbaric and a capitulation to life's most basic truth in 'Might makes right' whereas the alumni from the University of Victoria believed that in knowledge, not violence did power lie.

"I never even held a Blaster before Officer School, Tanomas...We'll be fine." Daan sheepishly admits the former part of her statement before releasing Tanomas from grip and turning attention back towards their target watching a crimson-coloured open-top landspeeder whirr past the checkpoint up towards the winding hill towards a gargantuan quadanium steel door set into the mountain's stone. They were going to have to blow that open, fortunately Daan's rucksack included enough explosives to blow through a Star Destroyer, equivelent to a particularly nasty proton warhead.

[member="Tanomas Graf"]