Dominion Lord and Master | Dominion of Lorrd | NIO

[Rurik Fel]

I M P E R A T O R
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
KNIGHTS OF THE EMPIRE
Iron Skin | Lightsaber
Noel Strasza | Avenger | Raijan Sol | Ghalric Rau

​

Ravelin, the seat of the Empire had been ill at ease since the death of Tavlar. While there was equally patriotic sentiment to snatch revenge from the jaws of anguish, so too was there a tangible anxiety in the air. Uncertainty. The Empire offered a harsh hand in favor of order and security...hard truths and tough lessons in favor of never ending resilience. But if its government could not protect even its own leadership...how would it not be capable of failing its people. It'd proven time and time again that it was a competent actor in opposition to the overt threat, the grand armies and fleets of the Sith Empire. But to the evil within? It was most vulnerable.

First came the report of the Empire's various warlords and moffs, something Rurik had done some foot work in gathering personally, with Raijan beginning where Rurik was meaning to head himself next. Galidraan. There was no mistaking that Willan Tal was a man as cruel as he was ambitious. Where that placed him within the Order in its new state? That was yet to be discerned.

Next came the matter of the very death that thrust Rurik into this position to begin with. In all truth? He'd barely given it much thought since that haunting day. Not even Kezec's nightmarish vision of Irveric's marred visage was enough to place it at the forefront of Rurik's mind. Whatever time mulling over it was less productive than rule. Rule of one of the largest war machines, the Empire of the Iron Sun.

And then of course, came the matter of the thawing of relations with the Empire's allies of convieniance. The Silver Jedi Order...and the Galactic Alliance. This was already something Rurik anticipated. The Empire's alliances were the machination of Tavlar and his personal report with the political leaders of the Alliance, New Jedi Order and Silver Jedi Concord. Rurik- being the ever crusading man of iron he was, could hardly endear himself to anyone at all.

For the moment, he let the Spectres speak, each giving their report which painted a picture of the Galaxy in its whole with the broadest strokes and speckling of detail. With Rurik's tendency to hyper focus on what he knew- war. It was a helpful gesture.

He sat at the head of the table, the metal mask uncharacteristically pried from his face and resting on the surface of the table before him. With his hood thrown over his head, his tortured gaze was concealed with the lighting of the room, only barely projecting any level of detail from his gaze to any of them at all but it was evident that while he was certainly a human man, he was altered in some form. Some form involuntary and some form fundamentally harmful. His eyes were argent ice and he looked over each of them as they spoke intently.

Once their reports concluded, Rurik began to respond in a deep voice wrought with otherworldly distortion to address each report.

"Our realm has many interests between those who lord over our many worlds. But...these interests can not deviate from what is their duty. Their duty to ensure the code of the New Order prevails and that they provide order and security to their people while contributing to the Empire. I will find out from each and every one of them personally what their aims and ambitions are." Rurik says in reply to Sol.

Then came Strasza's report.

"It seems the process by which the high priority personnel are guarded need be changed. The 501st needs to evaluate its commissioned and senior enlisted leadership. Regardless, they will transition the role of honor guard of Fortress Imperator to the Knights Sentinel of the Order of the Imperial Knights. There is no doubt the assassination was a plot of the Lord Halketh and his depraved allies in the Maw. Regardless if it relates to the assassination attempt or not, subterfuge and infiltration of these terrorists needs to begin immediately. But that does hardly anything to negate that the Traitor Lord still may have his agents among our ranks. Some process needs to be determined that can differentiate those undead and those among the living in the ranks of the New Imperial Armed Forces. The scientific division of the Armed Forces would be best to lead this up..." He says before eventually continuing the thought.

"I think it may be useful to utilize Thyrsian Nanoviruses to determine this, to distribute it across our service members as an innoculation...but in truth it is a targeted virus that would kill Halketh's agents. Regardless...infiltration of the Maw is a vital action that needs to be taken immediately. ISB's resources are available to the Spectres to do what need be done." Rurik concludes.

"As per Harrsk and his group...there is no surprise that the boy is as radical as his father, but as radical as his rhetoric may be- it comes from a foundation of truthful and genuine concern for the Empire and not malicious intent toward our state. Their concerns are valid and it is important to be detached from the coming generation. Just as we fought the war, their brothers and sisters, mothers and fathers carried the same sacrifice. Their voice has weight, to silence it...to ignore it, would deface the blood spilled for our Empire." Rurik comments.

"Regardless- I will handle the matters of politics...as much as it is foreign ground for me to tread. What matters for you all is what has been your task since Tavlar formed the Spectres. To defend the Empire. Between one of you...spear head a cell that will infiltrate the Brotherhood of the Maw, determine its friction points in its command structure...and exploit them. Starfall, Halketh, Ren...Solipsis. I need all of the information on them. As much as they seem to strike hard and fierce...there is no doubt a faulty structure waiting to fall apart. We just need to exploit it." Rurik suggests.

 

[Saiko Hayata]

T R O U B L E
HAYATA CORP. HOTEL
CORUSCANT
赤虎
Aiko Hayata

​

The doors to the penthouse slid apart, revealing the leather-clad counterpart to pompous poise, the frivolous little sister of the Hayata Clan. She smirked, tossing back her head to shed the hood guarding her pin-straight locks, and entered the room, swinging the briefcase clutched in a gloved hand nonchalantly as she strolled. "Sister, sister," she hummed, flashing a fiendish grin, "why so dour?" The thud of the armored case on the table proceeded the shove of a chair, and Saiko sat down, kicking her designer heels up on the table beside it. "You've seen our stock prices, surely that can't be why you're holed up here away from the festivities downstairs."

The Hayata Corporation was hosting a party on the ground floors of the expansive hotel, one open to its employees, associates, and partners in celebration of their newest launch's lavish success. One smash hit after another, it was no surprise. Though they had some difficulty breaking into an already saturated market, with the galaxy throwing itself into all-out-war yet again, the family was looking to make a record-shattering profit from supporting all parties involved.

The Atrisian reached to the collar of her shirt, adjusting the black tie cinched around her throat, and sighed. "Come on, I handled everything you were worried about. We don't have to worry about the Yashido boys snooping around our yard anymore, in fact-" a red-bottomed heel shoved the briefcase toward Aiko, "I even brought you a present." Knowing Saiko, it wasn't simply a bottle of vintage wine within the case.

After offering that much, she fished the gold-plated cigarette case from her breast pocket and plucked a vice from within. It found a place between her lips and soon, was ignited by a similarly extravagant lighter. ​

 

[Berach Ulrand]

Lt Col. Berach "The Guv'na" Ulrand
Objective 2
Tags: Siyarr Ahan-Mitharran , Hiran Avola

Sat in a chair with a black hood draped over his bald head. Berach's once-crisp Imperial commissioned officer's uniform was now creased and stained indelibly with sand and dirt. Berach's wrists with their bulging veins were barely contained by the Durasteel arms keeping them affixed to the wood chair. Though Berach couldn't see his captor, the sound of metal hinges creaking alert him to the sound of an opening door. "Come 'o finish 'he job son? don'' be shy ma'e, butcher's hook me in 'he mincers when you do i'". The speech is baritone, harsh and yet possesses a dry crackle; Berach was parched.

Standing above the seated giant, Berach's captor. Bewildered by his captive's sheer eccentricity, a male voice replies. "That is the idea, not the Galidraani man we wanted."

"Yeah, well you're no' really my saw' ei'her swee' cheeks." Berach hears a sound he was familiar with in his life of war; the dropping of a holster's retention strap.
Berach's confidence is false, a facade of defiance held stalwartly up while his thoughts drift to his daughter, what could have been if only he could pull himself away from the thrill of the fight, of war. It is his enduring mistress, and now it seemed to have finally heralded his end. The sound of a blaster shot barrels through an adjacent room, Berach's tinnitus rings through his ears, and the Guv'na listens to the Sith partisans scramble frantically. The man who would be Berach's executioner began barking orders with cool discipline while his subordinates panic.

Sweet Adrenaline pumps through Berach's veins, and he charges headlong towards the voice of his captor and feels his left shoulder catch into something soft. The pair of them double over with a crash, the sound of the wood chair breaking. Berach's most devastating weapons were now free, with a pair of Durasteel bracelets hanging from each. The hood came free, next and Berach snarled at the Blue-skinned Duros with wide, surprised eyes staring at the monster of Galidraan. "What are you!?" The Duros reaches for his pistol with desperate fingertips and watches, horrified while the giant straddling his waist hefts up a massive errant brick. "Help, help, help!!!"

Berach's hideous weathered face revitalised by the alien's terror splits into a wolfish smile. "I'm da bloody Guv'va!"

 

[Raijan Sol]

BYOO
BLOODLET ACTUAL
TAGS - Rurik Fel Noel Strasza Avenger Ghalric Rau

It was the nature of these leaders in higher positions, especially ones that were granted outside of the New Imperial hierarchy to be secretive. Fel, the Imperial Knight, was quickly determined to be the living and breathing embodiment of the Order's ideals. Not dissimilarly from how the Knights of Ren of his time determined themselves to be above military command so often.

He disliked idealists.

Dealing with a variety of Warlords and Moffs, pragmatism, not theorized leadership would see them through the mess of Tavlar's early death.

"Their duty does not matter, Imperator. Their ambitions however, do." He saw the First Order as the superior system. Centralized, united under one banner. It made it much more difficult for false souls to appear from nowhere and have position. Here was a chance to alter their path, to ensure that, 'Tarkinism' as he had heard it called, was the way forward. A single, or handful of worlds could not topple, or even truly halt an Empire's war machine. But if each and every dissenting voice had a handful of worlds and united against the main body, then there was an issue. "It is all well and good to remind them of it, to, be hosted by them, and see how they play the fool with half truths, but ultimately these 'Warlords' have their own ambitions. And have only united because of common cause -- because on their own -- they are too weak."

They may as well slaughter them all, as far as he was concerned.

Whether it was an entire legion, or if it were moffs, and department leaders of their own, The First Imperial version of 'discipline' and 'sacking' were more on the extreme end of things. A threat that, idealists were quick to throw about, but rarely executed in his experience.

"Regardless, to identify these undead, I suggest a Biocomm Network. Essentially, a system that uniquely identifies each and every catalogued member live. Location, rank, living or dead. An automatic system that can be implemented in armours or personnel's uniforms. I can determine the logistics of this and deliver a new report."

Some of them may have thought it unsavoury. Avenger, perhaps, they were oft at odds to the point that the former Special Forces operative refused deployments with the man. But with a non-lethal setting as this, he was certain there could be some common ground found.

 

[Nile Hark]

45TH PENAL LEGION
LORRD
OBJECTIVE ONE
Aemilio Valaar Omari Cardon

"Say, are those real stormtroopers cap'n?"

Hark closed his eyes.

"Yes," he muttered through gritted teeth, "those are real stormtroopers."

"Wow."

While most of the legion was waging a brutal campaign against Highlaw guerillas in Lorrd's arctic foothills the CompForce officer's walker squad had been rerouted last minute to support none other than the 501st in a high priority operation. This close to the capital the weather conditions were barely tolerable but even seated within the AT-SAT control cabin Captain Pellaeon huddled beneath his greatcoat for warmth.

"Its just..." the young penal trooper hesitated, "I've never seen a real stormtrooper before."

"Well now you have."

He tried not to think of them as people. That made the job easier. Sometimes it wasn't so easy with the young ones. Almost like he could see the ghost of the Imperial citizen they could have been. This one probably wouldn't last a week. If the university didn't get him it would be frostbite after they rejoined the legion. Necessary evils required to maintain order and stability. Crimes against the Empire could not be tolerated.

Pellaeon reached over and activated the comlink.

"By your will, First Lieutenant."

Taking orders from a junior stormtrooper. Still, the chain of command was clear. Hark was a loyalty officer with authority over glorified rabble. They were seconded to the 501st for this operation so the 501st called the shots.

 

[Aiko Hayata]

BYOO|Coruscant| HAYATA CORP HOTEL
AIKO HAYATA, CEO OF HAYATA CORP
TAGS//: Saiko Hayata

And there she was, ever so flamboyant and dramatic in execution, her enigmatic little monster of a sister. If not for her position within the family corporation, Aiko wagered her little sister might've been locked up in some high-security prison in the galactic core by now. But alas, she was here serving the families interests in her particular little way. Aiko offered Saiko an eye roll in response to her remarks about the stock prices, sighing heavily before eyeing the bag in her sister's hands with suspicion.

The elder sister leaned up from her recliner and pried the briefcase open; the smell hit her first abruptly, nose wrinkled in disgust; she sealed the case back up and gently slid it toward Saiko. But, of course, Aiko knew precisely who it was; Saiko didn't need to inform her; she knew the tattoo designs so very intimately. One of Yashido's tattoo clad armed enforcers was a big low browed brute from Chōfu district back home on Atrisia; he had distinctive Bishamonten designs on his arms, same as the one stuffed in the briefcase. She'd be delighted at such an outcome, but the rotten smell of the man's arm emanated out of the suitcase and threatened to stink up her entire office space.

"Oh, ever so theatrical dear sister, but please."

She pulled a bottle of perfume out of one of her drawers and sprayed it around, her face contorted in significant discomfort at the smell as she sprayed the briefcase zealously. Aiko soon ran out of perfume, and she exhaled painfully before placing the bottle away and continuing.

"...Get that limb out of my sight; it is stinking up my personal space."​

​

 

[Alais Kaun [DECEASED]]

1LT Alais Kaun
65th Drop Shock Trooper Division
Objective #1 - University Siege
Tags: Hark Pellaeon, Aemilio Valaar , Omari Cardon

First Lieutenant Kaun, clad in the white and crimson armour of the 65th Drop Shock Trooper Division walks along a gantry within the belly of a Star Destroyer orbiting above Lorrd. She punches a fist into each drop-pod as she walks past. "Our compatriots in the five-hundred and first will be strolling into combat, platoon. Sipping on their chilled water and dining on delicious ration packs, Shock Troopers!" Alais riles up her soldiers over their comlink and stows her rifle beside a leather-wrapped seat and plonks herself down into the cramped drop-pod and clasps both hands around the pair of sticks on either arm-rest.

The doors fold down and close, through the strip of transparisteel splitting the door down the centre, Alais' blueish eyes observe the glowing orb of Lorrd below, floating in space orbiting its' native star. "That's what separates the amateurs from the professionals; circumvent the queue to get into hell and drop straight in!" The rows of drop-pods are released on Kaun's mark, and a full platoon of metal coffins hurtle quickly towards the planet below, their fiery starlight contrails visible from the earth below. Drawing the curiosity and wonderment of friend and foe below.

"All Voidwalker callsigns this is Lightning-Minor, we're en-route to objective Dorn, touch down in five minutes, over" Alais' speaks with a courteous inflexion through the comlink's static once their pods had cleared the ionosphere and scowl as scarlet bolts hurled from repeating batteries rise from the university's grounds in a feeble attempt to swat her warriors' pods from the skies. The 65th Drop Shock Trooper Division was coming to crack open the university by gracelessly crashing onto the premises.

 

[Noel Strasza]

C A N D O R
R E V E N A N T
IMPERIAL SPECTRE
Rurik Fel | Avenger | Raijan Sol | Ghalric Rau

​

Her focus shifted from helmet to helmet, face to face, until she nodded a singular time in acknowledgment of everything presented. Hands rose to clasp behind her head, fingers threading. One tilt to the left and another to the right, a human habit carried over to the mechanical shell. Far less satisfying, but a gesture of equal preparation all the same. Her hands settled on the table after, steely fingers set to tap a quiet rhythm. Infiltrating the Maw was a grandiose task in of itself, especially given their recent conflict over Rhand with the Confederacy, but that fact alone may offer the opportunity she needed directly. They were weaker now than they had been previously.

She had all the New Imperial assets she could possibly need at her disposal, surely it could be easily accomplished, so long as she trod carefully. It would be done. Someone had to do it. Given her background and durability, from an objective standpoint, she was the best fit for the task- disregarding the personal desire to get to the traitor herself.

"The Maw operates how we've seen similar, more traditional Sith orders do. It's a hierarchy based on the grounds of power, no doubt they're exceptionally egotistic and arrogant. Their pride may be the point of exploitation we need, not on a whole as an order, but on an individual level. While he deserves the justice of The Order brought down on him, we may not even have to devote the resources to it. If we can pull the right strings, one of his newfound allies would cut him down for us. And given that his forces are tucked within theirs, that could very well be a crippling blow. Not only that, but exploiting their egos can easily crack whatever bonds they have toward each other, and that fracture only rots with time."

Revenant sighed somewhat, the sound grating and disjointed, a hiss more than a proper breath. "My investigation, however, stands. There are still traitors among us, and until I get my hands on the lieutenant in question, we're taking shots in the dark as to who we can trust. I'll assess who and what I can, determining points of weakness in their structure and rank while I'm on the hunt."

Arms folded over one another, resting on the tabletop still, and she pitched forward to lean on them, "I got zero interest in being blind any longer than I have to be." Her gaze turned back to The Imperator, "I'll assemble a task force tonight, sir- we'll leave before the sun rises."​

Ever the woman of action.

​

 

[Konrad Harrsk]

D E M O N ' S _ H E A D
Operation: One Lorrd
14th Military Intelligence Brigade, 501st Legion
Abandoned Student Housing

"Don't act so surprised. Some of us are more than just a pretty face." She gave him a couple of hard pats on his cheek before dropping the sarcastic smile.

He pushed her hand away and curled a lip, "Who said you're pretty?"

Zoraya Ives-Ayres

 

[Aemilio Valaar]

Obj 1
501st Black Hands
Omari Cardon Hark Pellaeon Alais Kaun

From his position down the street, Valaar removed the handheld probe droid and holoprojector. With the former thrown up into the air and transmitting a live stream of its findings in holo form to the projector in hand, and the sound off occurring simultaneously. His eyes snapped to the Sergeant Cardon, a new recruit to his platoon.

"Prepare for engagement," he said. In his periphery, he saw reddened targets coming to life on the projector.

Automatic and manned laser cannon redoubts, some were empty, likely scavenged after the collapse of the Sith Empire's authority on the world. Dozens of droids were visible as well, likely to make up for the lacking garrisoning remnant forces that abandoned the planet when word came of the true imperial arrival.

Before the probe droid could further identify other targets, it went black, the holoprojection still before the image vanished.

"Sniper," he muttered.

Their armour -- the penal company, arrived. Their Captain, a Pellaeon. Surprise would be an understatement. There was no loathing for the man. There couldn't be. Hadn't the basis for his very own ISYG been from the underground of Ravelin? Hadn't they brutalized Tavlar naysayers, Sith loyalists and sympathizers? There was a kinship, the only difference was that Aemilio's had been in service to the Empire and theirs... Well he didn't much care to find out.

"Captain, I'm transmitting locations of hardpoints now." after pocketing the holoprojector and tapping on his wristpad, he points down the road to the central building, by far the largest on location. It was to be expected it'd be the hardest to take. "Take your walkers down the main road, my men will have your flanks." With the big guns on the walker, Emil expected the rebel retreat to be swift.

"Advance," he waved a single hand down the street for the walker Captain, before signaling the Black Hands to move as well.

In his comm, a voice broke out, his HUD identifying them as 1LT of a Drop Pod unit. They hadn't factored into his plan at all, but he'd ensure that they didn't get in the way -- whether it was between the assaulting and defending forces, or the data they were meant to secure. It wouldn't do for a drop pod punching through the roof of their target and crushing the needed computer.

"Adjust for dropzone Esk.357. Come up behind them." As far as rebels were concerned, the 501st and penal legion was concentrated on one side of the compound. With insertion drop pods deploying more of them into the AO, flanking maneuvers in place of shock inducing force was preferable.

 

[Saiko Hayata]

T R O U B L E
HAYATA CORP. HOTEL
CORUSCANT
赤虎
Aiko Hayata

​

The almost cruel smirk of amusement that stretched across the Vice President's face proceeded a chuckle and shift in posture, the motions allowing her to tap the ashes of her cigarette into the tray positioned before her. Her feet slid off the table, her hand sought the case, and she aptly placed it on the floor. "I've got half a mind to drop it off on his daddy's doorstep," she remarked with a somewhat disinterested sigh, "I'm sure he would be happy to know that unruly mongrel of his won't disgrace him and dishonor the agreement between our clans anymore."

She shrugged her shoulders, catching the coat only draped over them to hang on the back of her chair, exposing the reason she had come so bundled up in the first place. Crimson stains bled through the white fabric of her shirt, running much farther than they would have traditionally, given her previous exposure to the weather outside. Judging by the original spray pattern across her chest and branching up onto her shoulder, it was a back swipe from the wicked blade she often wielded that splattered her. "My business aside," she snuffed her cigarette out in the tray with idle taps, "what has got you all in a mood, hm?"

Saiko's nose scrunched, face contorted by the obscene amount of perfume spritzed into the air- now it reached her- and she promptly stood up to give her sister's flowery cloud some time to dissipate before it choked her to death. Instead, she moved to one of the sprawling windows and peered beyond the pane, watching the craft zipping below. "I'm sure it's nothing we can't solve." ​

 

[Zoraya Ives-Ayres]

COMPNOR
Imperial Security Bureau
ISB-273
Objective: II
Konrad Harrsk

​

He pushed her hand away and curled a lip, "Who said you're pretty?"

"Your Father, last night." She replied, maintaining eye contact for a moment before walking past him, purposely shouldering him as she passed.

If nothing else, he was entertaining to toy with.

 

[Siyarr Ahan-Mitharran]

Post #2
First-Leftenant Doyle (DT-135)
GALIDRAANI FREE-STATE
UNIT-44
CLEAVER COY.
Lorrd '67
Objective 2

Tags: Hiran Avola Berach Ulrand Areyon
Konrad Harrsk Zoraya Ives-Ayres

​

<"Gould to Cleaver! You might wanty see this, sir. It's - it's actually incredible, to be fair. But I digress, you'll be wanting t'get doun here in any case. You wouldn't believe it unless you saw it with your own eyes.... Also, clear as clear can get. Isnae half messy biht.">

When Doyle finally made it on the scene, after clearing the rest of the compound with the aid of some of Headhunter Company's best marksmen, the bloodied remains of a Duros lay slumped on the concrete floor at the feet of a man who was covered head-to-toe in the aforementioned victim's blood, though it didn't take long for the Red Jackals to recognise the hulking mass of Galidraani punching-power. Even before the Guv'Nah bothered to wipe the sanguine from his eyes and face, every man and woman in that room knew exactly who they were standing face-to-face with, instantly recognising the man to be none other than the legendary Commoner-Colonel, Berach Ulrand in the flesh. 'It's an honour to meet you, sir. However, I think we might need to put the pleasantries on hold for now. Take my sidearm until we can get you something with a little more stopping-power, excuse the pun.', Doyle remarked in the process of finally introducing himself, handing over his blaster-pistol as the final sweep of the compound's interior was signalled to be underway already, making further inroads to insuring the Guv'Nah's safety.

'Two minutes an' you'll be evac'd, triaged an' on yer way back to Ravelin before ye know it, sir.'

 

[Morgana Sinclair]

STEADY
CAPTAIN "SKYBREAKER" SINCLAIR
GALIDRAANI FREE-STATE
"THE WYVERNS"
Aemilio Valaar Omari Cardon Hark Pellaeon Alais Kaun

"Alreit, listen up all o'you'se!" the woman's voice crackled over the comlink, resounding merrily in the helmets of her squadron, "We hev some real nice lads on th'groond 'at need oor help!" She let the others of her squadron ruminate on those words alone, reveling in the various hoots and hollers of her men barely heard over the droning rumble of her engines. It had been too long since they had the privilege of flying together, far too long, as a matter of fact. Back in the cockpit, it felt like she could be at peace again. Enough of the politicking. Enough of the pressed shirts and skirts. Her tailored flight suit and helmet were a relief, a respite to conceal herself behind the power of her fighter and get eyes off her.

Through the dwindling light of the day, the tight formation of four TIE-fighters streaked, lead at point by the warpainted Interceptor of one Lady Morgana Sinclair. They were few, ragtag at best, but through the turmoil of rising tensions, they endured, providing the much-needed relief to their ground friendlies and dominating the air space to ensure transports could make it to objectives in one piece. Escort duty out of the way, now The Wyverns were free to do what they did best; rip Sith ranks to shreds. She had designated half of their force to this task, allowing the other four a decent rest, something she knew absolutely nothing about. But it was better that way, this way, where she was always ready to lead from the front.

"Lil' bastards ur dug in deep, 501st's finest ur gunna be hevin' some difficulty with shields. Those ur oor main priority! Second, comes th'bleedin' rebs on th'roof with their cannons. We get in, get nice and close, and rip 'em ta shreds!" Skybreaker turned her head, peering to each flank to ensure the formation looked as great as it felt. "Gods it's good ti fly with ye lot again." She huffed, smirking beneath her respirator, "I didny hear any affirmation!"

"Aye ma'am!" Came Dragonfly.

"Aye ma'am!" Next Pegasus.

"Aye ma'am!" And Raven after.

"Tha's th'way lads- what I like ti hear!" she rallied back, tightening the grip she held on her yoke with their descent through the cloudbank, and at last, their objective was in sight. The towering university center arose from the tumult around it triumphantly, and the fact it was still standing at all was impressive to the noblewoman. The New Imperials weren't exactly a delicate lot, perhaps that's why she had so easily thrown hers in with them. If it were up to her, the place would be a crater, but there was precious research and information within the facility, information, and facilities that could very well be beyond beneficial to their efforts in the revitalized war. "Reit then ye dogs, let's give 'em a hand."

Reaching up briefly, the pilot twisted the frequency dial on her overhead console, tuning her comms into the frequency utilized by the ground forces sieging the university center. <"Skybreaker here, brought th'wily Wyverns with me-"> her voice would reach out through the channel, dispersing over the link at about the same time the squealing thunder of their formation echoed over the horizon, <"Heard ye fellas ur gunna be havin' some problems wit' a shield generator array. Just leave that ti us, we're coverin' yer approach, will standby ti address coverage on th'fly as needed, over.">

They were in range, now.

"Pegasus, Raven, break ti th'right! Dragonfly, ye're with me! Let's rinse 'em!"

Driving her yoke forward, the Interceptor rolled, plunging through the tense air with a wheeling howl to bear down upon the facility.​

​

 

[Atticus Pyke]

OBJ II: HIDE AND SEEK
ISB-138 AGENT PYKE
'ISHMAEL'
OPEN​

---

---

---

CLASSIFIED VESSEL, ORBIT ABOVE LORRD
LOCAL TIME: UNSPECIFIED
OPERATION: TO BE DETERMINED​

"It's been six hours since Agent Griggs' last report."

Station Chief Glokta had exhausted every method of reaching his mislaid agent. Even their most reliable channels failed to establish association. Intercepted chatter of fringe Sith-Loyalists illuminated their claims of having caught a rat, which posed a dire implication about the fate of Agent Griggs.

"So?" Atticus asked rhetorically, swiveling idly in the chair across Glokta's desk. That chatter could have meant anything. Usually, protocol dictated that twenty-four standard hours without a report would warrant a Code Black. "You thinkin' they got him?"

"It would appear that way. The phrasing is too specific for the Lorrdian vernacular."

Griggs was a Ranat. The murine double-entendre would be lost in Lorrd's specific flavor of Galactic Basic. Rat meant rat. No doubting it it now, they had him.

"No chit? We must've underestimated how organized they were."

"Damnit, how did this happen!? We were careful."

"Same way it always happens, Glokta. Pull him out."

"Yeah." A datapad slid across the Station Chief's desk, flickering screen alight with details. "The only leads we have in regards to where he might be held come straight from his own reports." One finger slid over the screen, giving life to haphazardly constructed projections of several locales. "You'll have a few hours to look over these before your shuttle is ready."

One green eye blinked, looked up from the process of lighting a cigarette. "You're sending me?"

"Why else would I have called you in here? Don't smoke in my office."

Atticus obliged, returning the lighter to his pocket. Smoking hand dropped the side, rolled the paper cylinder between his fingers. "What about the Arditi?"

"What about the Arditi?" Glokta echoed, one gray eyebrow cocked with his counter-inquiry.

"Aren't they deployed? You don't think Fortan-?"

"No, Pyke. Subtlety is our modus operandi right now. We're not trying to advertise to the Lorrdians."

"Rescue Ops aren't my thing."

"Too bad, it's an order."

Solitary optic squinted. "You really can't wait for me to take your job can you?" Pyke derided venomously. Punctuating the jab was a low, begrudging sigh. He snatched the datapad and began skimming through the contents of Griggs's reports. "Fine. I'll get a team together."

"No team."

"I'm sorry, what?"

"Just you."

"What if I get grabbed, too? Huh?"

"I'll send someone else."

"You're kidding me right?"

"I was serious about being subtle. If I didn't think you could handle it, I wouldn't have picked you."

"You say that to Griggs, too?"

Glokta missed a beat. "Agent Pyke, please. We've got a life on the line. You depart in two and half hours."

A click sparked a flame to life. Atticus had lit the cigarette anyway, to Glokta's immediately visible dismay. "Yes sir," he retorted sarcastically, carcinogenic fumes wisping from his teeth. An about-face whirled him towards the door. One more puff before he crossed the threshold granted the Station Chief a parting insult.

 

[Djorn Bline]

V E N O M _ S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
LORRD

Unironically, the rat was trapped.

If Glokta knew about this, then so did one of COMPNOR's (in)famous figures. He questioned on the selection of sending an actual rodent to infiltrate the terrorist cells on Lorrd...that is if Griggs did get caught and just didn't have the time to contact the Imperials. If the rat was caught, was it worth it to even bail him out from his situation?

And that rescue mission? He knew about it, too.

"Wouldn't you rather save a dog than a rat," calling out to Ishmael as Bline followed the man.

"So...you're the guy to correct Griggs and Glokta's fuck-ups, huh?"

"Cigar?" Atticus was already smoking a cigarette, but who in their right mind would deny a cigar? Especially when they one of the Boss' favorites.

Atticus Pyke​

 

[Konrad Harrsk]

D E M O N ' S _ H E A D
Operation: One Lorrd
14th Military Intelligence Brigade, 501st Legion
Abandoned Student Housing

"Your Father, last night." She replied, maintaining eye contact for a moment before walking past him, purposely shouldering him as she passed.

Face turning fuming red, he tightened the grip of the katana all so eager to cut her throat and decorate the walls with her guts before the tension escaped through his nostrils, "Not surprising. A corpse's the only thing you could pull."

The flames crackled, growing larger with each insult hurled.

Konrad turned around as she passed him with a shoulder bump, adding, "Plenty of lovers you could find here, then." he gestured at a pair of charred cadavers.

Zoraya Ives-Ayres

 

[Nelson Reg]

Nelson Reg
New Imperial Order
Imperial Knight
Open to Interaction

As his star sloop descended towards an abandoned landing pad Nelson looked over The Lorrd University Center for Applied and in doing so any annoyance he had at not being present for the start of operation was replaced by a renewed dedication to his mission. His task at least in his own eyes was simple: land hopefully undetected or at least as undetected as a ship proudly marked as an Imperial Knight's could; clear a path through the streets and meet up with a militia group before pressing the attack to draw attention away from other forces.
While some of his peers may look down on researchers, citing their easy life compared to a warrior, Nelson did not as he looked over his armour and equipment he knew that without people like those who worked below all he would take into battle would be a lightsaber and a robe.

Nelson's thoughts were brought to an abrupt end as his sloop made contact with the landing pad. He quickly disembarked before giving his ship the signal to leave. It was not that he thought that his crew was unfit to fight alongside him but they all served the Imperator in their own way and maintain that ship was a full-time job.
Somewhat surprised he had not been ambushed, Nelson set out to link up with the militia who had he had been told were based in a small lab meant to research overlooked metals. While Nelson doubted the research was what drew the militia to the location he imagined they saw a metal lab however overlooked to likely be easier to fortify than somewhere that studied crops or old bones.

 

[Zoraya Ives-Ayres]

COMPNOR
Imperial Security Bureau
ISB-273
Objective: II
Konrad Harrsk

​

His response made her stop dead in her tracks. She hadn't considered she might've been insulting someone's dead father but she would have to play the cards she was dealt. Besides, her heart didn't bleed for him.

"So that's why you're like this." She mused. "Too big for your boots because you don't have daddy's validation." She turned back around to face him, unbothered by her rather callous remark.

"Plenty of lovers you could find here, then."

She smiled wryly and raised an eyebrow. "I'll keep that in mind." She replied.

The crackling of the flames grew louder as the room continued to burn up, threatening the structural integrity as it did. She continued to move towards the exit, glancing over her shoulder towards him as she did. "Are you coming or do you want to stay here and risk becoming one of my lovers?"

 

[Konrad Harrsk]

D E M O N ' S _ H E A D
Operation: One Lorrd
14th Military Intelligence Brigade, 501st Legion
Abandoned Student Housing

Cutting off the head of a worthy rival on the battlefield was a source of great pride and recognition. There was a whole ritual to beautify the severed heads: first they were washed and combed, and once this was done, the teeth were blackened by applying a dye. The reason for blackening the teeth was that white teeth was a sign of distinction, so applying a dye to darken them was a desecration. The heads were carefully arranged on a table for exposure.

Konrad had the blade, plenty of soot to be used as a dye and surely there was still a standing table around here. This wench would be a fine addition to rival Ishida Ashina 's own head collection.

"So that's why you're like this." She mused. "Too big for your boots because you don't have daddy's validation." She turned back around to face him, unbothered by her rather callous remark.

"Don't project on me, vixen." he spat, then followed after her to depart the crumbling hideout. "Next time I won't be so careful in choosing my targets."

He wasn't above friendly fire.

Zoraya Ives-Ayres