Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

Planet at the Edge of the Verse | Rebellion of Hex G-50

Progflaw99

Well-Known Member
zo69Ezm.png
-​
Stop, drop, shut 'em down, open up shop
Oh, no
That's how Ruff Ryders roll
Stop, drop, shut 'em down, open up shop
Oh, no
That's how Ruff Ryders roll
~ DMX
-​
It was beyond time that the world of Terminus saw the maw raised above its streets - Sieger intended to see it through. Mandates of politicians mattered little, but this world? This world held more value than anyone in his empire realized. Its geographic location was significant in its own right. A gateway to both of the major space lanes contained in one system. The economic implications were evident, but even moreso - it could become a vital stepping stone into the greater galaxy. Thus, Sieger Ren, Supreme Leader of the First Order found himself upon the flagship of the First Order fleet, the FIV Wrath.

His lack of interest in the bustle of reports coming in couldn't have been more apparent, that was after all why he employed the highest caliber of officers - Cyrus Tregessar a prime example. Sieger's interest wasn't in the motions of the fleet, the nuances of fighter deployments, or even the elimination of the gangs in the underworld of Terminus. No, there were other cogs in motion. Cogs that transcended the machinations of governments, of politicians, of warriors, of soldiers - there was something in the balance, in the Force.

Dark energy rippled around the man's form, primal savagery lurking beneath the surface. Deep within the belly of the monolithic titan Sieger waited. Biding his time. It was a rare occasion for the leader of the empire to step from his vaulted halls of the capital, less so from the nigh impenetrable fortress of the Wrath. Time had healed the wounds inflicted upon the man's frail body on the battlefield of Lothal. Time and a healthy dose of deep magic, sorcery as ancient as the universe itself. A new vigor had consumed him in the time since that day. A newer, stronger power coursing through his veins - it was past time for him to use it.

Emerging from his quarters, he flew down the corridors with a purpose. Rapid footsteps led him closer to one of the many hangars of the Wrath, this one locked down from the others - it had been prepared for Sieger alone. Sieger and his kin. Within, the tools of their trade lay scattered about the hangar. Various vessels, weapons, even a few racks of gear designed for the Force Order. He would meet them there - and together they would bring safety and security to this world. There was a storm coming.

-
OOC:
Welcome everyone to the Rebellion of Hex G-50! Due to two major factions claiming dominion over the same hex, this rebellion is the result! If there are any questions regarding the rebellion rules, they can be found in part under the "Dominion" rules as well as the "Rebellion" rules. In the Spoiler below, you'll find the premise for the invasion as well as the recommended engagement zones. As always, these locations are not the only locations, and you may bring your own objectives.

Looking forward to crafting some excellent stories with all of you. If you run into any problems, I've listed the Faction Admins below - please don't hesitate to reach out! Here's a link to the OOC thread: http://starwarsrp.net/topic/141018-planet-at-the-edge-of-the-verse-rebellion-of-hex-g-50-ooc/

The First Order:
[member="The Major"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Rolf Amsel"]

Outer Rim Coalition:
[member="Dax Fyre"] | [member="Zark"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Tiland Kortun"]
The Situation:

The First Order: The First Order Security Bureau has incited a gang war in the Underworld of Terminus and are using it as casus belli. A reason to annex the system and restore order. Initially an FOSB operation, the might of the First Order Navy in the form of the FIV Wrath has arrived in system, ready to eliminate the rogue gangs and requisition their assets for the good of the First Order. What they didn’t expect was the arrival of the Outer Coalition on the heels of their defeat in the nearby Saijo system.

Outer Rim Coalition: The Outer Rim Coalition met hard resistance at Saijo as the reclusive xenophobic hermit empire known to them as the Sharukan aggressively took control of the system. In an effort to regroup and reclaim control of the system their fleets as well as a flotilla of refugees from the Saijo system set their sights on Terminus - what was meant to be a fallback position. What they didn’t expect was that the First Order would be there with their own ambitions.

Areas of Engagement:

The Underworld: Gang Warzone

Incited by the First Order Security Bureau, the various gangs and cartels that call Terminus’ Underworld are as of several moments ago embroiled in a bloody feud. Months of a ceasefire between the gangs had allowed tensions to rise - that tension has now exploded into what looks to be an all out brawl. Various gangs have taken the fights to the streets of the underworld, ownership of one block to the next subject to change in a matter of minutes as pandemonium spreads.

Former Alliance Embassy (Recruitment Center)

Once occupied by the Galactic Alliance, this former embassy now serves as a recruitment outpost. While marked as a location of interest it didn’t make the final cut when it came to mission resource allocation for the First Order during the initial phase. Now that the First Order has arrived in system this former Embassy is now a prime target for infiltration. While the rest of the world is wrestled into submission, the First Order has stumbled upon a ripe opportunity for intelligence gathering and possible subterfuge - it’ll be tight though. The sudden appearance of new recruits following the arrival of the First Order is sure to be subjected to some scrutiny.

Ground Control to Major Terminus (Local System)

In a shocking twist, two things have happened near simultaneously. Though it’s hard to be sure which exactly happened first, the situation has evolved past that minute detail. Both the First Order and the Outer Rim Coalition have sent fleets into the Terminus system - one to annex it, the other to reinforce the Coalition fleet fleeing from the nearby Saijo system. The FIV Wrath casts a wide shadow across the system but the dangers of the Sharukan to the Coalition necessitate a hefty response. The known size of either fleet is unknown but initial estimates suggest this isn’t slated to be ‘a minor border skirmish’.

Jedi Star Temple: Shield of Light (Jedi Hunt)

The Order of Ren has evolved, and so have its tactics. No longer a blunt instrument to be hammered into a foe, the Order has been reborn and reforged into a more refined instrument. Like a scalpel, they seek out Jedi and other Force Sects, forcibly converting them - or eliminating them. In the case of the Jedi there is only one way forward. As the battlefield scrambles into form, the Knights of Ren have been dispatched towards a foreign vessel. One unfamiliar but so obviously a bastion of the Jedi. The ship itself is not the target, but rather the Jedi inside. In an aggressive move, the Ren have been tasked with a boarding action - they are to leave no survivors.
 
Location: Former Galactic Alliance Embassy
Allies: ORC
Enemies: FO gang bangers

She had come here with refugees, and her brigade of troops. The planet was wreck as well, gang violence had a spike of violence recently. This was something they have to figure out later, though for now getting things under control was necessary. She was going to help keep the peace, that meant she needed to recruit local manpower. She had Thul Infantry put posters up, asking for recruits to form a militia units. She was hoping that people have had enough of gang warfare, and wanted it to end. She had equipment coming in, Scout Carbines and Light Armour to help set them up. She also had riot gear ready, and creates of grenades being put around. The infantry units guard the place, where primarily had these to hand. As they did not want to kill the locals, but they did not want to be over run.

Anyone picking up a flyer for job, would have to pass by an Infantry Company. They where barricade in, and had some scouts covering them as well. Then they would see a hive of activity inside, of pioneers setting up billets. Ships being unloaded, refugees being processed, children running and crying. The place was completely busy, this was how aftermath was, utter chaos.
She did have artillery in the area, but they still on the ships. as using them in highly populated area, was not a good idea. Though they could be unpacked if required, and used but their was not going to be any need for that.

She was in the command area with her Housecarls, she was hoping for ideas of what to do refugees. They needed homes jobs and security, some might join up, though most will not, having seen there fill of fighting. Her commanders where still trying to figure out, why the gangs got so violent. Also they wanted to figure out, which one owned what turf. Then they could work out how to proceed, in dealing with it.
 
And when I saw the Lamb opened one of the seals, and I heard as it were the noise of thunder, one of the four beasts saying "Come and See" And I saw and behold a white horse: and he that sat on him had a bow; and crown was given unto him: and he went forth conquering, and to conquer.
-Revelation 6:1-8
https://youtu.be/EAgJFXRqOpc​




Location: FIV Wrath
Allies: [member="Sieger Ren"], [member="Samka Derith"], Knights of Ren
Enemies: Jedi Knights
Equipment: Raiment of the Vigilant, Vader's Bane Lightsaber

ffbBTO1.png

Kyrel Ren had been aboard the FIV Wrath for quite some time, aboard perhaps one of the most prestigious starships the First Imperial Navy had to offer. For the Master of Ren, he had been aboard executing traitors that had once more defected, in order to form what he had yet suspected was another Imperial Successor state. Another Remnant of some kind. Explaining why he didn't take part in the initial operation to annex the Terminus system. Kyrel knew that the Supreme Leader had an agenda for annexing the system. It was key to several hyperspace lanes. Major ones that connected throughout the galaxy, and thus opened further oppurtunities into the conquests of the First Order. To further spread Imperial Rule across the galaxy and achieve what the Galactic Empire before them could not.

Awakening with his chambers, he snapped in place his Ren Helmet. Used to hide the growing corruption of the Dark Side that had afflicted his body, he had recieved news from the Supreme Leader himself that he had a special task in mind for the Ren. One that the Knights of Ren had experience in before, one that had brought a smile that tugged at his lips... The destruction of the Jedi.

No doubt the Outer Rim had become nothing more than a haven for criminals and traitors. The Jedi were no less then criminals needing to be brought through justice. Having long took great pleasure in their destruction, from what he read of the mission the Ren was to assault a Jedi Temple of sorts.. Not one situated on the ground itself. But this time one that was mobile, that had acted as a training center of sorts and thus a threat to the First Order and the Ren themselves. Walking down the corridor in a stride, heavy steps along his path the dark red cape he adorned billowed with each and every step he took.

Approaching the Hanger, he waited for others to arrive, reaching out with the Force he could feel the dark presence of Sieger was within the room. The Enforcer thought that it may be wise to wait and see if others appeared before the mission was to be carried out. His mask only hid his excitement, his fingers holding his Lightsaber. Vader's Bane was even eager for blood. Now all that was there to do was wait, wait and see for the Jedi's reckoning had come.
 
Location: The Star Temple
Objective: Find and meet exotic new beings, and Knock them into next blernsday
Allies: ORC, some Jedi, apparrently.
Enemies: The Knights of Roan, I mean Rhone, err, Ren.



Vorhi Alestrani was, among other things, a scholar. And for an intinerant scholar, this temple was fascinating. Jedi archives, a decent number of students, and even more impressive, a mobile temple. Yes, it was a prime target, and keeping it secure also mattered. But the knowledge, the wisdom, the stories that lurked within these halls--they were just as precious. Maybe even more so. Today would be auspicious. He could feel it in his bones.


The blind one-armed monk sat down and meditated. Today would be a good day.
 
Location: Former GA Embassy Perimeter
Objective: Get an In
Enemies: [member="Elaine Thul"]
Assets: 3x Painkiller Syringes | FO MK1 Suspect (x)

Dominic winced as he breathed out again. It had only been an hour and a half since his appointment with the Stellaran Mafioso, but the Bureau wanted him back in the fight. Seemingly, they wanted a man to infiltrate the former Galactic Alliance embassy. It seemed Craig's pretence for violence and espionage gave him a place on the shortlist to break in. The Stormtrooper medic slid a needle deep into his flesh, injecting him with painkiller. It was a dizzying effect, but worked wonders. Dominic's eyes fluttered shut as he the medic ran through some instructions, and medications. "You're going to have three more of these," She put the sedatives next to the FOSB man, as his head rolled back in euphoria. "They'll keep the pain down for about an hour each, use them sparingly." She informed him, from behind the cold helm, "But also," She added, her voice cautious, "Try not to use them too close together, you could OD."

Dominic lazily waved her away, and reached inside his pocket, retrieving a cigar. The almost sickening feeling of sweet release was ending, sending him back to a relatively sober state. "Sure thing sweetheart." Craig drawled, lighting up the roll, and breathing in its sweet toxic mix. He flexed his shirtless body, and stretched. He was a mess. His body was pockmarked with bruises, and gashes, and his face, ruined. Nose was crooked, and dry blood had collected on his upper lip. Perhaps most striking was his right eye socket, blackened, and even a little concaved from the action. The medic set her hands on her hips, and looked down at him, he could tell there was disapproval plastered across her features. Dominic rolled his eyes, "Look darling, I've experienced a helluva lot worse." He mused with a small smirk, "I know you've got your books, and your know how, but trust me," He winked, which he instinctively winced at, feeling the searing sting of tender flesh against bone, "This'll work fine." Sliding off of the temporary stretcher, Dominic approached his fresh change of clothes. Not that they were an improvement. Dirty brown duster, grimy wife beater, and baggy pants. Hardly becoming of the usual disguise kit, but given where he was, he'd fit in fine. "Your boys ready?" The officer inquired, as he began to change.


"They will be." The Medic tersely replied, "I just don't want anything happening to them." She coolly informed him, "And if they at all come to any harm, I swear I'll-" Dominic raised his hand, finger outstretched, silencing her. He casually shrugged the duster onto his broad shoulders, before cleaving the Mark One "Suspect" pistol, and depositing it into one of the inner pockets. Far enough in to the inside, that hopefully its thick fabric would hide the small slug thrower if he were patted down. He took the other personal effects as well. A small stash of spice, in a baggie, just for covers sake, as well as a substantial stash of credits. This was the former Alliance, and a little flashing of cash here and there, did wonders.

"Your men just need to act like the usual." Dominic told her, "They won't get close to the embassy, they just have to raise a ruckus." He paused, and licked his lips, before looking at himself, "How do I look?" He cockily grinned, showing off his battered gums.

header6.png

The squad marched through the street, with Dominic at its centre. They knew the plan, and would provide the cover for it. It looked like quite an official movement, from a distance. Six Stormtroopers walking, side by side, with one haggard looking male sat in the centre. Not that many took notice, especially with the ruckus the underworld cartels, and the arrival of the First Order had caused. Dominic played the down trodden man to a tee, looking at his shoes, spitting at the stormtroopers boots. At around three blocks from the embassy, and around a corner, the plan was struck. Dominic bodyslammed a trooper, and sent him sprawling, before sprinting. The stormtroopers set off in pursuit, opening fire. The streets echoed with the sounds of rifle blasts. "Hold it right there scum!" The squads captain barked.

Special Agent Craig passed through the streets at breakneck speed, running straight toward the embassy complex. The stormtroopers as planned, followed right behind, and kept firing right until they were in sight of the embassy. Once there, they fell back, only after making sure they were seen by the security forces. Dominic now screamed at the top of his lungs, "Lemme in!" He cried, "Lemme in, lemme in, let me in!" He bellowed, as he neared the gates, "Those crazy bastards, they're gonna kill me!"
 
Jedi Master.
Rebel.
Radical.
Zealot.

Starchaser was called many things. And not all of them were wrong, But they weren’t all as true as some were lead to believe. Upon discussions with Zark and about the history of the Jedi, and what sort of legacy the New Jedi Order, and specifically Omai Rhen should have, it fell to Coren to work on leading the Jedi from where they were, to where they should be.

Stewardship, if not the leadership of the Praxeum had also fallen to him, another place for him to focus and gather Jedi. His primary focus was the Shattered Order, the Jedi who had remained behind to support the Alliance, while he had no issues with the rest of the Jedi in the galaxy, he had his way of doing things. And that was why he was leaving the education within the Prax to the teachers. He was a warrior, a paladin.

But he was doing his best to light the fires of the Jedi. And making stops to the various temples, especially of the Shattered, was one way to do it. The prime Star Temple Omai Rhen was safely wandering the voids of the Outer Rim, while the Shield of Light was doing its best to provide a jump off point for the Jedi and Force Orders of the Alliance and Coalition to unite and have a focal point.

His YT-200- had dropped him off, with Porter keeping the ship’s engines primed in case the worst should happen. And with the Sharukans in the area? That was a possibility. But the Jedi Master approached the temple and had made conversation with the crew, seeing that they were ready for the invaders when they came.

What he was looking for today were attendees for the Gathering.

[member="Vorhi Alestrani"]
[member="Sieger Ren"]
 

Sibar Laval

Guest
S
Location: Near Entrance to the Terminus Underworld
Objective: Bring order to the Underworld
Enemies: ORC and Underworld scum
Allies: First Order

It had been a long time since Sibar had done a mission, a very long time. Being kept cooped up in a military prison had forced Sibar out of the fighting for years but he was more than ready to make his mark once more. Sibar didn’t quite know the specifics for the annexation of Terminus but then again he did not care very much in the first place. Sibar was just given the simple task to bring order to the underworld, which he was determined to do. For this mission Sibar had been given an mixed platoon of Flametroopers and regular Stormtroopers, just how he liked it. The platoon had marched from the dropship to the underworld entrance easy enough but Sibar knew that things were going to get a lot more interesting once they entered the underworld. Sibar stopped abruptly and turned to face the large columns of white behind him. All of them stood at attention waiting for Sibar to say something, luckily Sibar knew exactly what to say. “Alright men. Our orders have been to bring order to the underworld and stop the massive gang war that is occurring. So we must do what we do best. Burn their hideouts, torch the streets, kill all who dare resist you. When the underworld is in flames....there will be order. Any questions?” The troopers were silent for a brief moment before one stormtrooper from the back of one of the columns dared to speak. “M-Major Laval, what do we do about those not affiliated with the gangs?” Sibar chuckled a little “A fair question Private. The citizens are none of our concern, if they die they are simply collateral. If they resist....kill them without hesitation.”
 

Isobel Nakano

Guest
I
Location: The road to perdition the GA Embassy/Recruitment Center
Objective: Infiltrate the GA Embassy/Recruitment Center
Enemies: The Outer Rim Coalition
Allies: [member="Val Kordova"] | [member="Delilah Graham"] | First Order

They were disguised as thugs; minor players on the Terminus criminal scene, with the looks and documentation to match. Isobel -- Lotus -- was decked out in ginger hair dye, matching her alias documentation as Elle Crant -- a criminal killed during the recent shootout during the instigation of the gang war. Isobel had undergone more transformation than hair dye in her efforts to assume this identity. She had temporary tattoos lining her arms and a small water droplet tattooed under her left eye, and her eyes appeared blue and bloodshot, as if she'd spent a great deal of the last twenty-four hours absolutely hammered. Isobel had identification and other effects that would corroborate her identity, as well as a hastily (but exhaustively and painstakingly) constructed history on Terminius. Elle was gutter trash, like her parents before her, content to eek out a living in the underworld, mixing, running, and smoking spice and blowing the few creds to her name on booze and harder chems. It was a cycle of addiction that had claimed Elle's mother, and her father had met a sudden and violent end in a dark alley after double-crossing another criminal boss who was either smarter, faster, or luckier than he.

The rest of the physical transformation into Elle Crant had been incidental; her skin was bruised something fierce from her earlier antics at the club, with bruising, scrapes, and other fresh injuries visible along with the tattoos and dirt on her arms and through the holes in her jeans and tank top. She wore an ancient blaster slung over her shoulder -- clearly nothing special, but possibly of sentimental value -- and looked for all the world as if she was a woman looking to start something better.

Elle Crant was tired of living a life of crime and poverty and despair, and she was pissed that the First Order had arrived and shot the place to Hades and back. It was just the kick in the ass that Elle Crant needed to get looking for a better life, with more security and a cause to fight for. So here she was, walking along the road to the old Alliance embassy. She had heard they were taking recruits; this was her chance to escape. And it was Isobel Nakano's -- code-name Lotus' -- chance to infiltrate the ranks of the Alliance, to find whatever information she could from the embassy or disrupt operations there, and then exfiltrate. It was simple on paper and when it was being instructed by the reassuring, reedy tones of [member="Delilah Graham"], but now that she was within view of the Embassy complex, she felt that it might be more difficult than she anticipated.

At least she wasn't alone. "How are you doing?" she asked Mockingbird. "My dogs are barkin' something absolutely fierce."
 
Location: Outer Terminus System
Objective: Escort Saijo Refugees
Allies: Outer Rim Coalition - [member="Cathul Thuku"] | [member="Khonsu Amon"]
Enemies: The First Order
Master Debater: [member="Rae-Anna Ku"]


Command Deck // KRV Utopia
FarStar Initiative: Day 134
"Shields are at one third capacity, we've got hull breaches on decks four through thirteen, our dorsal heavy beam turbolasers are still out of commission-"

"Let me stop you right there, lieutenant," Captain Atlas Drake raised one hand to signal the young officer that was enough, massaging his temple with the other, "Is there a system on board that doesn't need work?"

"Sensors and communications are still mostly functional, sir. Auxiliary life support and emergency systems are running off our backup power. I'm told also the conn will have full sublight within the hour."

"Thank you, lieutenant. That will be all," peering out from behind splayed hands, Atlas raised an eyebrow at his executive officer, "You broke my ship, commander."

"No excuse, sir," Commander Ghast was a Kel'Dor immigrant and one of the finest sailors he had ever served with during his time in the Kathol Navy.

"Relax," the captain rolled his eyes and sighed, "It was a tough day, but you made the right calls. Its what I would have done, and we're alive. We should reach Terminus in the next-"

"Contact!" Atlas was interrupted by the call, his conversation forgotten for the moment as all his focus shifted to the bridge's sensor pit, "Captain, we're picking up something strange on long range sensors. They look like...Imperial transponders, sir."

"Action stations," Drake ordered calmly, a crimson glow bathed the bridge and klaxons began to sound throughout the ship, "Shields up when we drop out, whatever you can give me."

"Hyperspatial reversion in three...two...one..."

The Star Dragon-class destroyer tore back into realspace, its stylized prow-mounted hangar bay snarling like a raging beast as the Ancoran designed warship cut through empty void on its course for Terminus orbit. Utopia had seen much unexpected battle today already, but although wounded she was not entirely helpless. Three of her sustained beam emplacements were out of commission, but that still left three more, two ventral turrets and one aft. Their power output was many orders of magnitude greater than a standard turbolaser. Four of their six prow-mounted torpedo launch tubes were still fully operational as well.

Watching the command deck's central tactical holodisplay populate with sensor contacts, Atlas still could not help but feel he had just unwittingly brought a vibroblade to a las fight.

"Sensors confirm," Ghast stepped toward the display as well, examining the readings with a puzzled expression, "That lead ship is too massive. I've never seen anything like it."

"It's the FIV Wrath," Atlas frowned, realization slowly dawning that they had stumbled into something larger here, "This is no raid or skirmish. That's a pacification fleet."

"Your orders, sir?" the Kel'Dor asked.

"I'm thinking..." Drake muttered, mentally examining his available options in the brief time he had before the Empire became aware of their presence. The refugees would be not far behind.

"Captain, incoming transmission from the Dauntless! Admiral Stone is en route, ten minutes out."

"The Dauntless?" he wondered aloud, "What's the Kathol Navy doing all the way out here?"

"Sir, they were broadcasting with All Flags transponders."

"All Flags..." Ghast echoed, eyes wide, "The Coalition!"

"These must be our reinforcements," Atlas pondered this new information silently for a few moments, before pointing down at the communications pit, "Open a channel with the Wrath. Get me someone in charge over there."
 
Supreme Leader's Page Boy
Location: FIV Wrath
Allies: [member="Sieger Ren"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"]
Equipment: First Order Page Attire | Crossguard Lightsaber
Engaging: None, currently
first_order_divider_red.png
The young Zabrak passed through the interior of the massive super star destroyer.

All around him were figures dressed in blood-red robes. The Praetorian Guard dispersed throughout the areas of the flagship that were set-aside for the Supreme Leader's personal use. His private chambers. Inner sanctum. And the small galley aboard the ship that prepared and served his meals.

Located adjacent to the Supreme Leader's private dining hall -- used for those occasions where the Supreme Leader did not take his meals in his private chambers -- the galley, like all of the areas and functions that supported the Supreme Leader, were staffed entirely by members of the Praetorian Guard.

The sentries and bodyguards in their heavy, blood red plastoid armor were likely what one imagined the elite Praetorian Guard to be. But there were also chefs, overseeing the galley and kitchen in red and black uniforms. Cabin boys and other servitors were gathered from among the ranks of the Praetorian initiates at the Academy of Skye, learning about the inner support network that operated around the glorious star that was their Supreme Leader. And, in the process of learning, proving themselves capable of becoming worthy of the trust placed in them.

Worthy seemed a strange concept.

The wild child from the swamps of Takodana emerged inside of the Supreme Leader's galley with a coffee service in hand, returning the tray to the kitchen staff. Unlike the cabin boys, who wore the standard uniform of the Imperial Academy with a red baldric, Jorah was attired in a tunic that was almost entirely red -- save for a flash of black down the left side of the chest and black. The suit was traditional for the youngling selected as the Supreme Leader's page.

That he had been selected for the position had been unexpected. Voren, Rayate, and Barhis had each been the expected candidates for the role, being humans from elite families. Voren had been the boy everyone had thought would get the part, being connected to Dosuun's aristocracy. Barhis, of Virgillia, had been touted as his competition.

In that debate, Jorah's name had never once been a mention. Rayate had been the dark horse, being that he was from the Atrisian Commonwealth -- a relative newcomer to the First Order. And still, he was the name that had been summoned before the Supreme Leader for this trip.

...speaking of the Supreme Leader.

Behind him, the boy felt the presence of the Great One move through the ship. The coffee service clattered as the young Zabrak hurriedly passed that off, before turning to sprint down the hall in order to catch up with the trailing group of the Supreme Leader's entourage.

No, he didn't know where they were going. The Supreme Leader was just going. His job was to follow.

What would he do when they got... to where ever they were going? Whatever the Supreme Leader asked of him. Mostly, this would likely be carrying whatever the Supreme Leader desired to be carried. Or fetching whatever was desired to be fetched. Or delivering missives. Even in an age of instantaneous communication from across the galaxy, it seemed that there were some things for which men of power desired a courier.

He knew not what would be asked of him, but understanding was not required.

Merely obedience.
 

Zak Amroth

Guest
Z
Location: Terminus Undercity
Objective: I Am The Law
Allies: Outer Rim Coalition
Enemies: The First Order - [member="Sibar Laval"]
Equipment: Expeditionary Suit, Hand Cannon, Lightsaber, Backup Sabers


UNDERGROUND SAFEHOUSE
Deputy Amroth could feel the burn in his arms by now from all the pull ups, it matched the burning in his chest from the hand rolled cigarra he was smoking while he did them.

He was waiting for the beat up old sensor terminal's data to compile, one of many deceptively advanced devices scattered throughout the seemingly abandoned tenement complex that the Underground had taken over as their headquarters. Zak had been planetside for a week now, just long enough to watch the local underworld come apart at the seams in a bloody frenzy. His first solo assignment, law and order had broken down almost overnight. [member="Dax Fyre"] was going to kill him. At least, that was what he had believed until the first rumors trickled down to his level of the city world concerning foreign invaders.

Until the portable surface to orbit sensor had dinged in acknowledgment, prompting him to hop down from his nervous exercise, the Judge in training had assumed it was their new purple skinned friends. When he examined the readout and recognized the tell tale star destroyer designs however, a lot of loose ends started to fit neatly into place. His eyes narrowed. These people had killed his father in cold blood, and if he was right about his suspicions they had something to do with all this senseless violence. Damning if true, but he would have to find evidence of the First Order's complicity if it were to make any difference.

"Well, well, well...." Zak raised his eyebrow when the sensor dish pinged again, this time an automated warning that suggested a hostile transport was landing nearby, "Looks like some new neighbors have arrived."

The deputy slammed a fresh power pack into his father's blaster, flashing a wicked grin.

"Let's go say hello, Gloria."
 

Sol Stazi

Guest
S
Location: Old Embassy Complex
Objective: Keep Watch
Allies: Outer Rim Coalition - [member="Elaine Thul"]
Enemies: The First Order - [member="Dominic Craig"] (nearby) | [member="Isobel Nakano"]
Equipment: Blast Vest, A320 Rifle, SSK-7 Heavy Blaster, Alliance Adjudicator, Vibroknife


ALPHA SITE
OLD EMBASSY GROUNDS
The desperate human pounded at the embassy doors relentlessly, provoking no visible response. His cries of distress seemed futile, the stormtrooper unit was not far behind and soon they would easily cut him down (or reveal their charade, as the true case may be). Then, at the last possible moment, the door gave. A muscular blue arm reached out to grab the already off balance man by the lapel of his shirt, hauling him forcibly inside.

"Up against the karking wall!" Captain Sol Stazi screamed, and the door slammed shut as if to punctuate his statement. He was pointing a heavy blaster right in Craig's face, "I said face the wall, you miserable piece of-"

A chorus of screams from Sol's fireteam joined in, shouting orders at the man and aiming their rifles at him in an effort to disorient him into submission.

"Mad Dog, search him," Sol ordered, and a Klatooinian corporal moved in to pat the human down.

The alien's rough hands neared the disguised inner pocket of the man's jacket, but drifted down first to discover a less carefully concealed satchel of personal effects.

"Spice, cap'n," Mad Dog grunted and let out a throaty chuckle, the rest of his search forgotten, "And credits. Looks like a junkie."

"Yeah? How about it, huh?" the duros resistance fighter spun his prisoner back around to look him in the eyes, "Who are you? Whats with the heat? Spit it out."
 
Location:Star Temple
Objective:Unknown


Sleep had not come easy for the Jedi Master these past few weeks. It seemed that after the time spent with Samara and the talks they shared had woken something within him. It wasn't nothing dark in nature but perhaps a certain sense of foreboding. While his hopeful nature had kept him optimistic of the days to come it also left him at a stand still. Perhaps it was something that had nagged at Kahne since the Alliances fall and retreat and his battle with [member="Sieger Ren"]

What was he supposed to be doing?

The Jedi had been in bed for a while and sleep hadn't taken hold of him yet, a few nods off and then waking up twenty or thirty minutes later. The Jedi hadn't come to this place in quite some time, some places held true to the Jedi and some where home. While this was home once.

Once...

Kahne stood up from the bunk and took a shower and began to get dressed. The Jedi had some books he wanted to go over and a look in the archives before he left. It was time for him to the trio and he had missed them greatly, even in such a short amount of time. His mind in other places he wasn't even aware that [member="Coren Starchaser"] had arrived or what was about to come to pass.
 
Location: Former Galactic Alliance Embassy
Allies: ORC [member="Sol Stazi"]
Enemies: FO [member="Isobel Nakano"] [member="Dominic Craig"]
Others: Who are not here, [member="Kahne Porte"] [member="Zak Amroth"] [member="Atlas Drake"] [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Vorhi Alestrani"]

She was in the command room, when reports came in of Stormtroopers coming to the north gate. She rushed out with her housecarls, they ran past refugees, the fact they moved so fast some other troops followed. The General of her brigade communicated with the rest of the Outer Rim Coalition forces, this was on a secure channel, This General Booth, of House Thul Forces we have contact with First Order Stormtroopers, at the embassy, repeat we have contact with First Order forces, will keep advised. They where not meant to be here, this was bit of shock to them, and not something they expected. He then gave the order for artillery to find places to set up to defend the base. He had raised the security level from Green to Amber to reflect this, as they where not shooting at each other, but they need to be on there toes from now on. Though anyone trying to infiltrate the base, just had there job made harder.

Whilst Elaine was running to north gate, still not in her armour, that will change soon. Her troops where pointing a lot of guns at the storm troopers, a mini standoff had erupted. Though at moment it was six of them, looking at hundred fifty of her men, as a result they ran off. She saw the man trying to get in, obviously he has upset the stormtroopers. Though she had issues here, and she did not want to start a shooting war, with the first order. At the same time this man maybe guilty, and worthy of punishment, after all gang warfare had spiked. He might be just another gang member, and had attacked them. She thought for moment, she couldn't let him go. She looked at the Duros who has roughed him up a bit, Let him in if he wishes, and arrest him! She then turned to her scout platoon, and gave them an order Make contact with them troops, we need to know what that man has done. Also find out if we can a dialog. Then a group of them got bikes, to try and find them, them and make contact with them. They would constantly monitored, on comms as well as the sensors.
 
Location: Gang hideout, tied to a chair
Objective: Sit pretty
Enemies: These guys
Allies: ORC

One minute she’d been dancing at Nebula, the next she found herself haphazardly tied to a chair in a decrepit warehouse.

While she normally wouldn’t complain about being tied to something, this was not how her night was supposed to end. Terminus was a common stop on the Corellian Trade Spine, a planet that practically catered to traders, smugglers and all sorts of criminals. She’d stopped for the night to rest and refuel, popping out of the starport for a little fun on the town. It was supposed to be an early night; one, maybe two drinks, some dancing, a few hours of sleep and then her final destination of Zonju V.

Then, all hell broke loose. A firefight at a nightclub wasn’t the most uncommon thing.

“How much you think we can get for her? You think Iago’s looking for new girls?” Three men stood huddled near the door, talking in hushed whispers. It didn’t really help anything, given that the room was small, cramped and quiet. With their prisoner sitting only a few feet away from them.

“I don’t know.” Another one muttered, indignant about something. “She’s alright in the face but she bit me. S’long as we get rid of her, one way or another, I don’t care.” The Chiss raised his hand up towards his face, the teeth marks on his flesh crusted in dried blood cementing his point.

“Oh, for the last time.” Yula groaned, still a bit miffed about the whole thing but even more so at the apparent incompetence of her captors. “You’re ransoming me to my mother. Remember what your boss said? She’s rich, she might pay for me.” She’d been chatted up by the boss at Nebula, a Keshiri man who recognized her surname. In certain circles, Perl was a well-known name, especially given her mother’s work in the ‘Rim. Once the fighting started, he’d taken the opportunity as he saw it.

Yula huffed, absently blowing a lock of messy hair from her face. “Honestly, is this the first time you’ve held someone for ransom?”

The three men stared back at her in silence.

“Oh, you’ve got to be kidding me.”
 
The Reaper of Won Shasot
Location: Terminus
Objective: Kick the FO and the Sharuka off my lawn
Enemies: FO, Sharukans
Allies: ORC

They said he was a Reaper, a Harbinger of Death. They said he was conqueror, a subjugator of clans and worlds. They said he was Rogue, that he forsook traditions, of both Light and Dark. Somehow these stories always missed the good things about him. A father, a husband, a protector of the innocent.

Today he'd leave those good things behind, save one. There was no room for mercy, no room for compassion. They had enemies on all sides, Sharukans, chasing down the refugees of Saijo, and with the potential to take Terminus as well, and the FO on the other, their sights set on swiping the system out from under them. Sure, the two forces might decide to turn their guns on each other, but they might just as well choose to band together, if only for a moment. After all, the enemy of my enemy is my friend.

But the Coalition had no friends in this fight. Not even the people, too consumed in their own gang wars to concern themselves with the threat of subjugation would come to assist in the defense of their own homes. A reality that was thus far quite new to the Marshal. It made no difference though. The Coalition would push back the attackers, ensure the security of the planet, and then restore law, what little of it there was, to the planet.

The Rogue stared at the silver metallic mask, skeletal in nature, scorched from the fires of numerous battles. The last time he'd worn it, he'd been out for blood, out to claim the blood of those who'd taken those he'd cared about most. And before that, he'd worn it while conquering an entire people, all for the sake of some dark power that called to him. He'd hoped to never don the damned thing again. But today was a day for blood. The Rogue picked up the metal skull and pulled it over his face. He pulled the hood over his head and left the confines of his quarters towards the Azalea's hangars, three sabers hanging from his belt, glinting with an evil light as he walked.

The Reaper had come to Terminus
 
Location: Star Temple where things will go down.
Objective: Make sure that he and the ship are not the things going down.
Allies: ORC, [member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Kahne Porte"] and a lot of other force nerds.
Enemies: [member="Sieger Ren"] and presumably a bucket full of truly awful people. And some unfortunate souls like [member="Jorah zos Darnus"] and [member="Kyrel Ren"] . Fun times.




The blind lame monk slowly rose, extending his left hand slightly and bowing towards Coren. "Greetings, Master Starchaser. Master @Tilund Kortun sends his regards as well, although I'm unsure where he is. Probably talking with someone about tea service and meditative mindfulness," he said with a smile.


If Coren used his sense to probe the force within Vorhi, he'd find a strange mixture. A little light, a little dark, and a lot of tangled, messy things. Of course, Coren's aura was practically a damn floodlight of Jedi energy to Vorhi's sight. Crisp, blue, with sharp edges. Focused, neither fiery or fuzzy like some auras. Precise. Measured. Kinda lethal. Still, it was one of many auras. for a man who saw within the force, the whole ship was like a light show. It was beautiful in its own way. He grinned in the sort of relaxed way you'd expect a drunkard in a bar to smile. "I don't believe I've introduced myself, my apologies. I'm Vorhi Alestrani. I'm here to observe," he said with a nod. There was the diplomatic grin.
 
Allies: [member="Isobel Nakano"] | [member="Val Kordova"]
Enemies: [member="Elaine Thul"] | [member="Sol Stazi"]

Objective: Tell me lies, tell me sweet little lies...
Location: Former GA Embassy
Assets: 3x Painkiller Syringes | FO MK1 Suspect (x)

"Ow! Ow! Ow!" Dominic snapped as he was accosted by the Duros. "Come on!" he growled at the former GADF officer, "I'm not the bad guy here, I'm not the-!" He saw rifles around his peripheral vision and shut himself up. While he acted the fool, scared and out of his mind, he certainly did analysis. Seemed that this place had a few more guards than anticipated. And the guards were jumpy as anything. Interesting. Seemed initial intel should've made this a priority, no matter. He was pulled away from the wall, and spun around. Upon seeing the Klatoonian with his spice, he snatched it back, and slid it into his coat. "Don't take my stuff man!" he snapped, before looking over the Duros, and then the others with the guns, "Look man," He got down onto his knees, and raised his hands, "I dunno who you are man, or what you want, but I'm not a bad guy man." he pleaded, tears beginning to well in his eyes. They were crocodilian in nature, but would look nice for his story.

He gave himself a moment, to supposedly collect himself, fighting back the emotion. "I'm Draven. Draven LaRoche." He began, looking into the dead, red stare of the Duros, he seemed to be calling the shots. "Me and my friend, T-T...." He paused, and choked back some tears, "Me and Tobrin, we were down the spaceport way." He began, he wouldn't overload them with details yet. "When these First Order jagoffs start coming through," Dominic explained, he gulped down breathes, and his breathing became strained, "They begin doing all sorts of stuff man, they start asking for ID's, all of that, and Tobrin, well..." he looked down at the floor, "His old man was GADF, ya know?" he shook his head, face red with emotion, "Died when they came through L-49, so he ain't a big fan of 'em."

Dominic closed his eyes, and buried his face in his hands, "And so this, this officer comes in, and starts giving him chit, and Tobrin, Tobrin tried man, he tried to keep his cool. But then this guy, he just...." He looked back up at the Duros, "Torbin shoots the bastard, and then, then..." He looked away, expression pained, "Then they descend, shoot Tobrin like a dog, right there, and beat me." He bites his lip, and gestured at the carnage displayed on his face. "Some kinda, other bossy fella, stormtrooper, comes in, says I'm gonna be an example." He clenched his jaw, and looked up again, but past the man. It was something Dominic dug right into his own experiences. The way he'd some time fade out, "And then I ran, and I ran, and I-I made it here."


Dominic looked shocked when the proposition of him being arrested was raised. Anxious eyes turned to the Duros, "I'm not a bad man mister," He pleaded, "I might do spice, I might steal, but, but I never meant to do no harm. I never meant to hurt anyone, and I just... I just don't wanna die man." He looked at Thul, "Don't let her throw me out there man, don't let me die!"


header6.png

POV: LT Harlov Spence

"I reckon we struck the fear of Ren into those pricks big time." Corporal Shiev mused as the squad moved through the darkened alleys of the city. In the distance, the sound of rampant violence echoed, followed closely by the smell of acrid smoke as the ghetto burned. Seemed that the underworld was in its death throes. "Still, you reckon that Bureau bootlickers gonna make it out? Seemed pretty-" Shiev stopped, and clasped his rifle close. "Wait, I hear something."

Harlov paused, and held up a clenched fist, stopping the advance. That was when it hit. The distant, yet all too familiar drone. "Speeder bikes, on our six!" The stormtrooper squad ducked into cover, and aimed their weapons right at the approaching bikes. Fingers on triggers tightened, and the mood darkened. Within seconds, a visual came into view. Uniforms matched those of the embassy. "Hold fire!" Harlov commanded, his voice echoing through the street. "Move any closer!" Harlov began, "And I'll have you shot right here, and now!" He snapped, "This is First Order territory, and as per our law, you will identify yourselves in the next two seconds." he paused, "We clear?"
 
Ex-Soldier | Ex-Spy | Doctor
Intelligence Officer Luther Ando
First Order Warehouse – Radio & Dispatch
[member="Dominic Craig"] | [member="Isobel Nakano"] | [member="Val Kordova"] | [member="Delilah Graham"]

Luther’s head pounded. Mendez, despite being scheduled to relieve Luther three hours ago, was nowhere to be found. To make matters worse, he had multiple agents in the field but only had authority over about half the current force he was supposed to be monitoring. The end result was that he was doing double the work with half the manpower.

There was some relief at least. Delilah Graham had been brought in to manage Mockingbird and Lotus, taking a fair chunk of work off his plate. On the other hand, someone had allowed Dominic Craig back in the field with only a few painkillers. However, all of those issues paled in comparison to the worse factor of all. They were out of Caf.

Luther ran his hand through his hair, letting out a string of swears. With the gang warfare heating up, Luther’s command was swamped. The area had a chaotic rhythm, agents running back and forth between him and the comms, reports slowly overtaking the desks.

“Get in contact with Craig’s medic team” Luther said tersely. “If he’s going to run around playing the criminal then I need to know he at least made it in alive”. The messenger, who looked as tired as Luther if not more, saluted and made to move away. “Wait” Luther said and motioned for the man to return. “Let Graham know she’s sharing turf with one of my agents, and to make sure her own don’t shoot Dominic if there is a firefight”. Luther reached for his cup, slamming it down in frustration as he realized it was empty.

“And someone find me Parker!” he shouted, his headache worsening.

Page_divider_FOSB_with_grad.png
Agent Ike Parker – Codename: Firebrand
Gang Hideout
[member="Yula Perl"]
1U7mwxp.jpg

Ike was doing his best at playing the dumb criminal and was upset at how good he was at it. He’d been picked from a group of agents because of his ‘thuggish looks’ and tasked with infiltrating one of the local gangs. It hadn’t been too difficult. In the wake of increasing gang violence, the underworld organizations had picked up plenty of new recruits.

“Her Ma is Joza Perl” Ike said to the Chiss, he didn’t recall the name. “Some bigshot with the Coalition”. In truth, Ike was sick of being undercover and would have happily ditched the assignment had Yula not appeared. The woman had real value as a hostage, the kind that the First Order Security Bureau could use. Therefore, it behooved him to wait around and try and capture her for the Order.
 
Location - FIV Wrath
Allies - first order
Enemies -outer rim coalition

Nervousness

The feeling overtook her body as she let a breath out, staring at a shiny black pilot helmet within her hands. Right out of the academy and into the war, heh her mother and father were no doubt proud. Listening as the alarms went off she turned the helmet around and placed it upon her head sealing it as she checked her suit controls and then turned running for the hangar alongside some other pilots.

Running up some stairs she hopped into a tie fighter and looked back as the gunner hopped in with her. She flipped a few switches watching everything come to life as nervousness was slowly replaced with excitement as she pressed the controls forward once guven the signal and shot out of the hangar into the awaiting darkness of space . A breath was let it as she made sure comms was working and then reported in

blue 6 checking in

As those words left reality set in, she was here and about ti enter battle for the first time
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom