Operation Bodysnatch

[Robogeber]

PA'DESH, OLD FORT
Command Centre

The dimly lit command and control centre was still a mess after the aborted raid by the Eternal Empire. Forces of Lady Kay and her Mandalorian allies had been a catastrophic failing. For them, it had blunted upon the bastion of the First Order. Their forces simply incapable of overcoming the fanatic and zealous defence put up. But for the First Order it was a dramatic lapse in security, with the dispatching of most of the orbital defence fleet to pursue phantoms. One which now hung on the Grand Admiral's reputation. The Badishah, was obviously not amused, with the cost of casualties measuring in the thousands of his soldiers.

But that did not mean the First Order was without allies. And it was time to use them. Assembled before him, in a haphazard circle of chairs, the Grand Admiral glanced over the assembled strike force. They had been freshly kitted, and dragged down below, orders from FOSB commissars. A derisive glare came over them, as their de-facto commander in chief waited for them to be seated.

"Ladies and gentlemen," The Grand Admiral began, standing to attention. "Your work in the past few days has been invaluable and your service unquestioned." The officer continued, however he paused. "However, there have been developments, which have proceeded not necessarily in our favour." The officer informed the assembled force. "The time has now come for us to secure our future and wipe out the Badishah and his ruling council." He let the statement hang in the air.

"Questions?"

 

[Tyrcas Pallopides]

​

The Old Fort;
The Command Center.​

​

The order had been simple; select individuals were to meet in the command center. Following the Eternal Empire's efforts, it seemed the local leadership had felt the presence of the First Order was more burden than blessing. That meant the likelihood of forceful removal was highly possible. Tyrcas couldn't blame them, really, as it was no secret how many soldiers the natives had lost. And with very few options beyond utilizing the fortress they were currently, that could spell a problem for the First Order. It didn't take a degree in astrogation to see where things were headed - and how the imperial faction would respond.

As other individuals entered the secretive area, Tyrcas moved to a position along the outer edge of the room. He wanted to have clear vision of the assemblage and to see the Grand Admiral clearly. Tyrcas' capabilities in the Force were increasing under the tutelage of his master, Amadeus Ren. And in more recent times, when meeting the leader of the First Order, something had seemed off about Carlyle Rausgeber... but Tyrcas still couldn't quite put his finger on it. In time, whatever secret was there would be revealed, but for now observation was key to filling in the blanks.

Not to mention Tyrcas had secrets of his own, given his alias as a new member of the Knights of Ren.

When the Grand Admiral began to speak, Tyrcas brought his attention back to the situation and listened to the proceedings...

 

[Farah San'jana]

Farah San'jana
The Old Fort,
Pa'Dan, Pa'Desh
Post 1

The Eternal Empire had been pushed back, their fleet broken by the First Imperial Navy and their incursion utterly annihilated by the Order’s militant resolve. But the sudden ambush still took its toll, in treasure, in lives, and on the psyche. From her position atop the wall of the Old Fort, looking out over the beautiful expanse that was Pa’Dan, her home, the scars of the battle clear. Crashing vessels had brought down buildings, permanently scaring the Pa’Dan skyline. Some of them still smoldered, sending off huge plumes of black smote into the air even after this time. She could hear the temple bells ringing, calling people together to pray and mourn. Estimates had placed the Pa’Deshi loses in the thousands. Tragic. The survivors from those same starships that had careened into the city from orbit had come out shooting. Apparently, there were still units searching for the scattered handfuls that had fled to the jungles beyond the city center. All this loss, and chaos, and for what? So the Eternal Empire could inflict just a little more suffering on these people? How much could the galaxy take from them? But, Farah knew, the First Order was resilient.

Her mind drifted back to that day in Old Pa’Dan. She had escaped from the Temple a few weeks previously and was wandering around the city which she had always known as home. For a lone woman wandering the streets, safety was always a top concern and there was safety in numbers. And so, when she saw a large crowd gathering in a square, she had moved in among them to see what the commotion was about. She remembered being shocked when the an off-worlder soldier took the stage and spoke of how the First Order had saved him from a life of fear and exploitation. And then a man she later learned was the Grand Admiral spoke about political matters foreign to her. But what both men had made clear was their resolve. The First Order was defeated but not vanquished. She had found her way to their island in the days following and, relying on her mother’s long abandoned First Imperial citizenship, gained access first to the refugee camp and later to the Stormtroopers Corps. When she signed on, she had told herself that it would only be for a little while and it would serve mostly just as a way to learn all the things Pa’Desh’s primitive views on women had denied her. A means of obtaining education, both formal and social. The guaranteed meals didn’t hurt either. Besides, they were isolated to a fortress on an island in the capital of Pa’Desh. It wasn’t like she’d ever actually have to fight. And she liked that too.

The attack by the Eternal Empire changed her perspective. She had not actually participated in the fighting. Her group was considered too green, inexperienced. And in a warzone, apparently, inexperience could get you killed. Instead, she and her comrades had spent the entire incursion at the Old Fort. She had escorted civilians down into the bunkers, was told to be ready to repel any landing parties that made it that far. None had. The closest she had come to life threatening danger that night was rendering basic emergency medical aid to one of the citizens who collapsed under the stress of the attack. She sympathized with him. The Order had had just enough warning that the civilians were being moved underground before the battle had come to the planet’s skies. It was the last group of people she was escorting that the battle over Pa’Dan began in earnest. The sounds of fighters and bombers zipping back and forth, the bolts of energy that streaked across the early evening sky, the sound of shield generators whirling up with desperation. The screams of utter terror from the city proper. It was terrifying. And it was haunting. In the days since, when it was her shift to stand guard on the wall of the Old Fort, looking out over the city, those screams would force their way from her memory back to the forefront of her mind. She imagined what it must have been like for the men and women and children who, unlike herself, were not so privileged as to escape it all in the safety of the bunkers. She imagined what her parents must have thought, huddled together in a tight embrace and reciting prayers and meditations. Since then, she had began to offer, every night, a prayer to Nundu she had never uttered before, to keep her safe from her enemies and far from battle. She hoped he would heed her.

Another trooper had approached without her noticing, lost in her thoughts and unable to pull her eyes away from the still smoldering city. “You’re relieved, it’s my turn,” the man said, jarring her back to her post and making her start in surprise. Her in-helmet HUD marked him as her superior, which wasn’t saying much, literally everyone was her superior it seemed.

“Thank you, sir,” she said, coming to attention. “I stand relived.” Her acknowledged her, chucking at the unnecessary formality, and took over her post. She began the slow climb down the stars back to the ground level and, eventually, to her barracks. She hadn’t written a letter since a few days after the attack, and it was about time to write her parents again. Maybe that would get her mind off that terrible night.

​

Dearest Mother and Father:

I hope this letter will find you in good health after the incursion a few weeks ago. I don’t know if my other letters have reached you yet—they tell me that it is somehow easier for us to get mail from the Old Fort to Bakura than to move it the dozen miles from me to you. I wanted to tell you that I’m okay, I know it seemed like a lot of troopers were killed when the off-worlders attacked, but they tell me that we actually ‘won’ the battle. Doesn’t really seem that way. But, then again, the way some of the soldiers here talk about the war that forced the First Order here makes me think I don’t understand what it means to ‘lose’ a battle. Hopefully, I never have to learn.

I hope you are both alright. They don’t tell me very much and I haven’t been allowed off the island since the attack. A naval cadet (who, by the way, are very impressive, they get to go into space!) told me that the area of Pa’Dan including our neighborhood didn’t suffer extreme causalities. I pray to Nundu without ceasing that you were not among the few. One of the other troopers mocked me, just a moment ago, for writing to you when I can’t really be certain you’ll ever receive this or any of my other letters. He called me “sentimental” and “silly.” I suppose it is kind of sentimental and silly. But there’s nothing wrong with being sentimental. Or silly. And, besides, the alternative is too terrible to imagine.

Speaking of the terrible, I’m afraid that things are coming to a head with the Badishah. He has deployed the Almar’bieyara to keep us locked away in here. Though technically nothing’s changed, some of the troopers mutter about the situation. And I agree with them. If it wasn’t for the First Order, that alien attack would have reduced Pa’Dan to ashes. I don’t understand how the Badishah can’t see that. What’s more, it’s become clear to me since signing on that the forces of Pa’Desh are impotent compared to even the rescinding might of the First Order. If the attack demonstrates anything, it’s that we need the FO. We need their protection. We need their technology. We need to adopt the ideology that has let them, and other powers across the galaxy, advance so far beyond Pa’Desh. I pray the Badishah comes to see that. Sooner rather than later. These people are not our enemies.

Honestly, it’s very sad, what happened to the First Order. Yesterday they were a great power and today they are a collection of orphans, misfits, and broken men. Sometimes I think I’m the only person in the entire army that still has someone to write to.

I love you both. Stay safe. Nundu’s blessings.

With love,
Your obedient daughter

 

[Subject 6: Cassander Solimar]

Apartment Complex
Old Pa'Dan, Pa'Desh
Vulf Morituri's Room

​

​

Vulf made one last check on his gear, to make sure it was all still functioning as it should. It did, of course, but that was beside the point. You only get one shot at something like this. The First Order had so far refused to take action against a government that had at best tolerated them, so 6 figured it was time to take matters into his own hands.

First into the duffel bag went the uniform. Corruption was rampant among the Almar’bieyara, the formalized armed forces of Pa'Desh, and all it took was a few credits for one of the members handling logistics to "lose" a uniform.

Next, his Karpaki Fifty slugthrower sniper rifle. 6 doubted he would need it, but all it took was one slip-up, one unseen variable, to flip the whole thing on its head. The sniper folded neatly into the bag, along with the sound suppressor he tossed in with it.

Finally, his Blaster Buster. The curious little slugthrower fired repulsor-driven rounds that seek out the ionized gasses clinging to the barrels of recently fired blasters, with the purpose of disabling them rather than killing the wielder.

6 zipped up the bag and strapped a FO-SUSPCT MK1 into a holster under his left arm. The compact firearm was one of the FOSB's post-Sundering inventions, which 6 had taken from the corpse of an agent. It was basically undetectable and virtually silent, but could not be reloaded. Which meant he would only have five shots, five 5mm bullets to accomplish the mission.

Everything else he'd need was in his pockets or otherwise on his person, namely his datadagger and his garrote, which was concealed within his wrist-chrono. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, 6 exited his apartment and began making his way to the Forbidden Palace, his ID10 'Cicada' following him overhead disguised as a bird.

Things will change today, of that he was certain.