Side by Side ... by Side [First Order Dominion of Anoat Sector Hex]

[Caid Centurion]

Post 5
Location: Anoat Surface
[member="Gemma Cavataio"]

The entirety of the Ren's senses had been replaced by the Force. Flashes, hurried images of that which had yet to occur spoke to the force sensitive as clearly as any sentient being speaking basic. In his youth...it had been disorienting, posing more harm than good. However, he had long since honed his warrior-skills to the appropriate degree...a point where he was little more than a conduit for the power of the Force. Even still, Caid was painfully aware of the greater reality. A reality that drove everything he did in this life.

I still have much to learn.

As the intensity of the fire from perimeter defenses began to increase substantially with the arrival of another Knight of Ren, Caid was forced to activate the silver-blade of his lightsaber. As he brought his hand up to prepare to deflect an incoming blaster bolt, the brilliant beam sprang to life just in time. Fluid movements carried him to the outer wall that surrounded the last perimeter of exposed ground before the estate itself.

By now, any security forces inside the estate had been alerted, and he had no idea they would initiate procedures to secure the noble to whom the estate belonged. The obvious nature of Caid's attack had been purposeful, needing the residents to follow established procedure. Information obtained from those loyal to the First Order indicated that this particular noble maintained a safe room in the sprawling master bedroom of the estate. Caid expected that to be the most well-defended point of the building, but he'd no intention of simply walking up the hallway.

Within a few moments of vaulting over the final wall, Caid had cut down the remaining soldiers lingering outside. Pausing with his lightsaber still activated, he turned to regard the newcomer that approached from behind him. As most of the Ren, this one wore a mask. However, he could tell rather simply from her build that this Ren was indeed female. Within the Force...something pulled at him aggressively as if the unifying energy was attempting to merge their respective souls. At first, it felt almost like longing, desire...which confused Caid. Eventually, however, he recognized it as something...deeper, a connection established less by emotional need than similarity of composition.

Given that Caid didn't know how he felt in the Force to others or what his father felt like, he knew very well what his Aunt Lauda felt like. Narrowing his eyes, the Knight of Ren deactivated his weapon before a deep voice with a slight mechanical twinge to it drifted towards the woman. "Who are you?" So intense was the sensation in the Force, that Caid was comfortable putting his objective on hold...momentarily.

 

[Enyo Typhos]

(2)
Objective: BYOO
Location: Cloud City, Bespin


The comm's ringing abruptly ceased when suddenly Vess appeared at Enyo's side. The HRD had the ability to move almost silently. It was a useful trait for a bodyguard...or an assassin droid, for she was both. Archangel's prize was a very important asset, after all.


"Stanley, what's going on out there? You're long overdue to report. Is all clear? Tech geeks say the cameras are buggy." The voice on the other end of the line sounded a bit gruff, but not that worried.


"Sorry, I lost track of time. Everything's fine here. I checked the roof. The cameras are probably just glitching." Vess responded smoothly, with a tone that was contrite yet a tad annoyed. It was a perfect imitation of the dead guard's. "I'm coming over now."


"Well, fine. I'll get Luke to fix up the cameras. Out."


Vess cut the connection and Enyo retrieved a key card from the dead guard's corpse. "Time is running out. We must retrieve Atreides," the droid said flatly, now once again using her normal voice. HRDs were not the chatty type. Unless their mission required infiltration. Fortunately, the corridor took them to the penthouse itself and the keycard opened the door for them, sidestepping the problem of dealing with the electronic security system.


The door opened, revealing an ostentatious apartment fit for a nobleman with an inflated sense of relevance. The guard standing close to the door did not have time to do more than draw his weapon, for Enyo rammed his leg with a surge of telekinetic power and squeezed the trigger of her shatterpistol. Two suppressed rounds hit him in the chest and he fell over the carpet. Blood seeped out of his wounds and dripped onto the rich fabric, staining it.


Another guard dove for cover as the clone fired. He yelped in pain when she caught him in the knee, but dragged himself behind a couch and kept on firing his blaster. Enyo advanced as blaster bolts whizzed past and above her head, burning a portrait behind her. To cover her advance, she tossed a smoke grenade, bathing the room in a cloud of smoke.


But as she tried to take out the shooter, a third guard charged her, swinging his vibroblade. Unfortunately for him, he in mid-swing Vess imposed herself between them and grabbed his hand, crushing it before ramming her mechanical fist into his face. "Get Atreides. I shall cover you," she said blandly, producing a heavy blaster pistol from her holster. Alarm sirens howled, and Enyo bolted, firing her gun to keep guards suppressed.

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Post: 16/38
Location: Bespin
Allies: First Order
Enemies: Unknown
Objective: 6 (build a ski resort on Mt. Ison)

What remained consistent across a variety of bread-and-circuses administrations: fencing (saber is synonymous with fencing to the eyes of many even though foils and épées were regularly but more obscurely used in competition), shooting, grav-ball. Now Dunames feels the urge to know more about Frank's past in the system of bread-and-circuses. Virginie obviously went almost all the way through, whereas she was part of the Council of 22, Frank was not. But she was one of the last among the Council of 22, that is, the 22 figure skaters on the First Order's national elite roster, before the Council was disbanded a few years back. Virginie is as much of a sports historian as she is a product manager, probably as a result of her being in the sports history books as being a Councillor when the Council was disbanded. And she knows how it is when the final stages of construction of a facility are underway: she had to personally test what said facility has to offer. Relaxing in an ice chalet is something that is part of the game to her.

"You probably know by now that the shelf life of athletes at the elite level is often pretty short, in sports like grav-ball, about 3-5 years on average. Competitive shooters can last longer, because it takes less of a toll on one's body"

"Do you have any idea how many kids that want to sit on the Council of 22 but were weeded out along the way?"

"For each Councillor there were roughly 350 kids that didn't make it" She turned to Frank. "Frank, do any of the following names ring a bell into you? Julie Zeeman, Carling Kutolah, Anna Alabama, Katarzyna Zelinka?"

"Anna Alabama I dated back in the day, but the other three I know nothing about. But I have to say, she was the most agile girl I knew back then"

"Were there any strongly-charged moments you lived with any of these four ladies you just named? I know you have known them only because of your common sport, but how did you differ as athletes one another?"

"Let's say that I was miles ahead of any of them in alpine skiing, and in effect better than the entire Council of 22 at the time, but as a figure skater I was more of a dance skater. You were lucky, very lucky, to have been dating one of the last darling ladies of the First Order's solo figure skating"

 

[Davin Jusik]

Objective: Kill
Allies:FO Ground
Enemies:Rebs

A biting wind rolled over the hoods of the group as they moved across the snowy landscape. The beings they would be killing soon would be some of the finest folk they'd have the good fortune to meet. Amin was one of those soldiers that didn't truly buy into the rhetoric. He respected the need for it, as hate was required to kill, even going so far as to utilize it, but he also respected the foe. The misguided leftists whose desire to better the galaxy was thrust in one direction because of life circumstances.

Could've easily been him in another life.

Amin leveled his suppressed slug rifle as he approached the slumped form that was the guard they'd observed for several days. The hole in the guard's chest was neatly placed, a testament to the First Order's marksmanship standards. Eyes slowly moved towards him with a glazed expression that spoke of encroaching death. Amin caved in the guard's skull with the butt of his weapon before he even had a chance to utter a protest.

The Intel folk lined up along the closed door that lead into the snow covered bunker system. Amin moved to the other side and gave a nod. The Intel Officer slowly opened the door and leaned in, weapon raised, before the other two followed him in. Lights flickered slightly as the intruders moved stealthily along the hallway before them. Silence was broken by a bit of laughter and the sound of footsteps ahead. The Imperials slinked down and kept their weapons trained firmly at the end of the one path hallway. Two rebels rounded the corner in a casual manner, one with a cup of stim cafe, both with their weapons slung. A joke had evidently been told. One of them was probably the dead man's relief. Their expressions changed to one of panic for a brief moment before slugs ripped through the center of their bodies and out the other side, plastering themselves into the walls behind them. Two now lifeless bodies crumpled and bled.

The commandos continued over their corpses.

 

[Enyo Typhos]

(3)
Objective: BYOO
Location: Cloud City, Bespin.


Locating Lord Atreides was easier said than done because his penthouse was bloody massive. Rich tapestries and portraits of his illustrious ancestors dominated the walls. The transparisteel windows offered a majestic view of the Bespin skyline. Rich carpets lay upon the marble floor. Expensive porcelain vases stood in the background. They were probably from Atrisia.


Enyo was disgusted at such a wasteful display of opulence and weath. It confirmed the loathing she felt for nobility. She could hear gunfire and screams of pain in the distance, though they were faint now as she quickly moved up the stairs. Vess was covering her back and dealing with the guards, so she was left with the task of finding the heretical nobleman. She could hear the water running in the refresher and quickly headed there. She glanced inside the opulent bathroom, but there was no sign of him. Then she heard noise and quickly dashed down a corridor. What she found was terribly comical.


The tall, bearded nobleman was dressed in a bath robe and running. His hair was still wet and slick with gel. Evidently the intruders had interrupted his bath and he was probably running to some sort of panic room. She pulled at the tangled web of power that was the Force and grabbed his legs with an invisible hand, yanking them forward to trip him and make him stumble. The aristo fell to the floor. His face was twisted into an expression of righteous indignation when he beheld his black-clad, masked assailant.


"Assassin! Who sent you, girl? Are you a minion of these filthy Harkonnens?! You have no idea who I am, do you? I'll have you know that I have the ear of the Moff. My guards will be here soon. Surrender to them or you will rue the day when you dared to...,"


Enyo cut off this inspiring rant by firing her blaster pistol. One stun bolt missed the nobleman, but the next two hit their target and shut him up. To be fair, anyone would have been cross if their bath had been interrupted by two armed intruders. She quickly moved towards the unconscious man and cuffed him, before stuffing a gag into his mouth. After all, he might wake up and rant again. "I have secured Atreides," she spoke into her comm. It was time to make their getaway. "Proceeding with extraction."

 

[Visser Chernykh]

Allies: [member="Caid Centurion"] [member="Gemma Cavataio"]
Enemies: All who resist the will of the Supreme Leader
Anoat
Post 1/??

Mael Ren's saberstaff was a crimson blur. Twin blades deflected the sporadic blasterfire as he dashed from cover to cover. Those estate guards who'd thought to engage him at close range lay dead. The rest had fallen back to open fire.

It was merely delaying the inevitable. These mercenaries couldn't stand before the wrath of the First Order. They were slowly being made to fall back. His advance was relentless.

Mael could feel their barely contained fear and desperation. The disciple could hear their shouts between volleys. It was almost certain they could hear his boots on the flagstones of the courtyard. The voices were growing more strained as he drew closer.

Then something unexpected happened. He was shot in the back. So distracted was he that he hadn't noticed the woman crouched behind a plinth he'd passed. He was fortunate that that duraplast backplate had absorbed the lethal impact.

The pain served to enrage him. Mael whirled around and thrust out a clawed hand. The mercenary's eyes bulged as she felt the vice grip around her throat. Her hands moved to her throat in a futile gesture and her pistol clattered to the ground.

He realized that he was was screaming with rage through his masks' vocabulator. She fell to her knees as her face went first crimson then purple. He ended it a moment later. The sound of her neck snapping was audible through the courtyard.

The sheer horror rolled off her comrades in waves. Mael Ren delighted in this though he realized his mistake. He'd let them begin to surround him. He'd been too focused in his desire for revenge....

 

[Enyo Typhos]

(4)
Objective: BYOO
Location: Cloud City


Aurelian Atreides had been seized. Now it was time to make an exit and leave Cloud City. Using the Force to strengthen herself, Enyo picked up the unconscious, cuffed aristocrat and threw him over her shoulder. Fortunately he was not the sort of nobleman who overindulged himself at banquets, otherwise trying to carry him would have been more than a little awkward.


Quickly, she made her way out of the corridor and down the staircase, passing a moderately over the top portrait that showed one of Aurelian's illustrious ancestors on horseback, leading his brave troops like some sort of grand hero. She rolled her eyes to the heavens, but moved on. There was no time for vandalism and it would be rather unprofessional behaviour.


The sounds of screams and the staccato of blaster fire filled the air, putting her on edge. When she finally reached the scene, she saw Vess in action. The blonde HRD dispatched her enemies with the ruthless skill of a death machine. Grabbing one man she flung him into the wall with excessive force, then shot down his companion with a bullet from her bolt pistol before proceeding to ram another attacker and stomp on his throat. There was a gurgle, then he was dead.


However, even an HRD could be caught off-guard. No attack seemed to hurt her, but she'd taken damage. Part of her face was burnt off, revealing metal and her clothes smoked from numerous impacts. One attacker had managed to stay clear of her rampage and fired a high-powered bolt into her chest. The droid stumbled, not quite falling, but clearly damaged. Seeing his chance, he brought forth an ion grenade and prepared to throw it.


Before suddenly Enyo crunched down upon his arm with excessive telekinetic force and broke it. He yelped in pain, then was pushed into a table by an invisible force. A window exploded and glass shards became improvised projectiles as they were projected with great speed. A shard impaled itself in his skull, another in a minion's knee. Screams ensued, Vess got up. With most guards dead, the two made a break for it. The speeder was close, waiting for them on the rooftop. Alarm sirens were howling, but they would be gone soon.

 

[Ria Misrani]

Alles: The First Order; Ground Forces [member="Amin Garith"], [member="FN-1313"], [member="Darth Veles"], [member="Decima Fortan"], [member="Adalric Vastor"]
Enemies: Plebs, Peasants, and Not-First Order People.
Objective: Kill them all, with style of course.
Location: Rebel HQ.
Post: 3 // ??

Orentho looked once over his shoulder, the corridors were near empty. His polished shoes reflected the lights above him as he walked toward a supply station. He could see one of the quartermasters working on something, his elbow knocked over a few things, "terribly sorry just came to see if I might borrow a power pack or two." Orentho explained bending down to help the man, with the flick of his wrist he shot him dead on with the hold out blaster. That was probably a little louder than he intended as he worked to set the poor man's corpse back up. "Right, there you are, do try not to bleed all over the floor." A small amount of sticky explosive set on the man's body.

He turned toward the back of the supply station where a door read, 'authorized personnel only.' Pursing his lips together he fished out an access card from his suit. Orentho had made a few a day or two ago, sliding it, "no that's the card for the dining hall, ah here we are." He slid another, and it blinked green. Walking in he adjusted the weight of the bag in his hand. He had perhaps gotten just toward the cyber security room when he heard the sounds of faint screaming and perhaps an explosion or two. "Time to move," he says to himself slipping into the room, he counts the number of men there, "right then shall we dance?"

There are at least four of them here, perhaps a fifth was on lunch. No matter, hold-out blaster to at least two of them and the third lunged for him. Orentho side steps and smashes his face into a nearby console, at least twice as the fourth man tries to stab him. He knicks blue flesh with an improvised weapon but Orentho drops the third bloke and grabs the fourth running his body into the wall and finishes both third and fourth off with his holdout blaster. Fishing for a resupply of ammunition he sets those into his bag and gets to work on the cyber security. "Agent twenty-one here, sending troop movements, and what have we here? Artillery? Dispatching coordinates."

He was working against time now, once he sent off what he needed to send to his superiors, he stepped away from the console. Firing off two shots into the console he steps over the dead bodies and slaps another sticky explosive on the back of the door. From here there's an access ladder down into the generator room, and that's where he's headed. "You! You! Hey you! Get back here!" Shouts a rebel guard who spots him moving across the hall. Orentho doesn't answer and instead just picks up his pace.

 

[Visser Chernykh]

Post 2/??
Anoat
[member="Caid Centurion"] [member="Gemma Cavataio"]

They thought they had Mael Ren pinned down. He was being made to use an outbuilding as cover. They were providing covering fire as they tried to circle around him. They were thinking like soldiers.

These guards assumed that he would think that way too. But he was not just a soldier turned bodyguard. He thumbed off the twins bladed and their hum was silenced. The Force filled him and he quickly clambered to the top of the outbuilding.

He crouched there in the shadows and waited. They came around the corner a moment or two later spraying blaster bolts. Their surprise and confusion was all over their faces when he wasn't present. His lips curled into a cruel smile.

Mael Ren spotted their captain coming forward now to investigate. Where could the intruder have gone to? They certainly would've seen or heard him running back the way he'd come. The man quickly dispatched a pair of guards just to cover that possibility.

Idiot. He was going to die first, Mael decided as the two guards dashed off towards the gates. He moved his thumb over an activation stud. He readied himself for the attack.

The Captain had turned around to communicate with guards inside on her comm. Mael pressed down and a single blade crackled to life. He lept just as the guards had turned to hear the noise. The disciple's fall was transformed into a heavy overhead chop.

His crimson blade bisected her almost perfectly in half. It bit cleanly through her helmet all the way to her navel. But there was no great spray of blood and gore. The heat cauterized the flesh and left it smoking as it fell the the ground.

Around him the guards' horror was the same as if there'd been that spray. He spun on his heel whilst bringing the other blade to life. The saberstaff was especially useful against many foes around you. They fell around him with only one mercenary managing to get off a shot.

He batted the bolt away contemptuously. Mael ripped the pistol out of the man's hand with a gesture. He advanced almost lazily and lopped off the guard's head. The other two guards had heard the commotion and were running back.

Too late. Far too late.

Mael extended out his left palm and sent a wave of energy slamming into them. They flew back as if hit by a hurricane wind. One was slammed hard into a statue and slumped. The other hit the ground and bounced back.

The Supreme Leader's disciple knew the one driven into the statue was out cold. The other man lay there stunned. Mael walked over and knelt beside him with his weapon extinguished. His voice was distorted and inhuman as he spoke through the vocabulator.

"The Supreme Leader cannot be denied. Opposition is heresy. Opposition is death."

Mael extended a gauntlet-clad hand and he saw the man's eyes widen in fear. The heretic's life ended a second later at a gesture. He rose and quickly disposed of the still unconscious guard against the statue.

Now he turned back to walk through towering bronzium double doors of the manor. They were closed and no doubted barricaded. No doors would remain closed to the Knights of Ren. His boots clicked on the cobbles beneath.

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Post: 17/38
Location: Bespin
Allies: First Order
Enemies: Unknown
Objective: 6 (build a ski resort on Mt. Ison)

Virginie has had her share of attention, telling of how she was an athlete that had the misfortune of being trained in the wrong era. Frank, on the other hand, seems to be in the mood for tauntaun riding. But before they get out of the chalet, Frank also seems to be talking about how he had a similar misfortune. Dunames, being unfamiliar with what happens behind the scenes of bread-and-circuses, other than podracing, seems to be listening to events that happened when she still was a child. But that would feel uneasy for him to be going on a tauntaun-ridden patrol to ensure the security of the area around Mount Ison. And also to use the tauntaun enclosure where tauntauns would be held for the tourists wishing to ride tauntauns around Mt. Ison. But before Frank goes out to collect a few tauntauns and Dunames orders the construction of a tauntaun enclosure somewhere else at the base of Mt. Ison...

"You went all the way through it: all I did in the system was riding thoroughbred ponies. My sports school was closed down when that very administration you bemoan about axed horse racing. I was but an elementary-schooler back then"

"Horse racing is back in the program of the First Order Games by now"

"And podracing also. Four events are known to be in the program: podracing, precision shooting, fencing and horse racing. A few contestants in each of the aforementionned events are already known: me as a podracer, alongside many of those who survived the Lanteeb Grand Prix. Po Nulnik couldn't come: at this time of the year the Grabvine Gateway is held and the Games conflict with the race"

"Also events that are fan favorites seem to transcend the administrations: foot races, swimming races, grenade throwing. If there is one thing that you need to understand about the First Order's system of bread-and-circuses, it's that events featured in the system are events that exhibit a characteristic useful in combat, if only a rather niche one"

"In the world of horse racing, there are several types of races: trotting, gallop and ambling races, together called flat races. Trotting races are further subdivided into mounted or sulkied. I wonder whether the race on Dosuun will be a trotting, gallop or ambling, or even a steeplechase or endurance race. I was groomed to be a jockey but maybe I can still rent a horse and enter the Games"

"And then you became a stormtrooper"

 

[Enyo Typhos]

(5)
Objective: BYOO
Location: Cloud City, Bespin


The bound, gagged and pleasantly unconscious Lord Atreides was dumped in the backseat of the speeder. Enyo climbed in after him and Vess took the control. Though the droid was damaged, she was still functional and in any case a better pilot than the human.


The vehicle's engines hummed to life, then the speeder lifted off from the roof and shot into the sky. The craft accelerated and had soon left the skyscraper behind it. All around them, life in Cloud City continued as if nothing had happened. Bright neon signs advertised this or that product, citizens made merry in clubs. Far away from this district, the First Order's leaders were having a gala to woo the luminaries of this sector.


Carrot and stick, divide and rule. These were the methods of many empires. Enyo was quiet but vigilant during the journey, though no one tried to intercept them. She took the time to get a good look of the majestic city in the clouds as they raced past grand towers and skyscrapers. Far away from the residences of the rich and powerful, a shuttle awaited them. It would take them to the Lightbringer, which was hidden far away in space.


Atreides would eventually resurface as a 'changed man' and have an amazing story to tell about how cowardly rebels had kidnapped him before he was rescued by the heroic soldiers of the First Order. Naturally this event would have opened his eyes and made him realise that only a firm, iron hand could ensure law, peace and stability. The noble would bow his head before the face of the wise Supreme Leader. He might also align his business interests more closely with that of an organisation called Archangel, but that was another matter.

 

[Gemma Cavataio]

Anoat surface... [member="Caid Centurion"] ... [2]

Her focus remained on the primary weapon targeting her, forcing her to dodge several more times before bulling out the lightsaber at her waist, letting the purple beam come alive. The laser blast struck again, this time meeting the beam of her own weapon. She hurried on, letting the Force flow through her at a constant, the powerful ally at her side guiding her on.

It was when she felt the... interruption ahead. The presence was unfamiliar and yet through the Force, Gemma knew many Cavataio members, siblings... cousins... aunts... uncles.. Ma'dri... Nona... and after all those, there was Pa'tre as well. Gemma knew the feeling she was experiencing but she chose not to let it distract her right now. Another weapon came in sight as she moved, causing her dodge, giving her body a push forward as a laser blast struck from behind her.

The presence felt stronger as Gemma reached the final wall, climbing it much like she'd climbed any obstacle through her life, quickly, with her senses aware of her surroundings. But it wasn't until she actually climbed up and rose to her feet that she came mask to mask with the other Knight of Ren. The Force pulled her towards the figure, a man from his appearance. Gemma held her ground though, hearing his question. The Force didn't give her a definitive answer to that question though. She could feel the same blood in front of her and yet... he didn't quite feel like Mirus or Mira, but he also didn't feel like Dharma. That of course only left option, especially since Gemma arrived to the First Order with the knowledge of another Cavataio present within it.

"Your sister... your cousin, Caid," she answered and smirked underneath the mask. One raised among the Cavataio simply accepted that some things were just as they were, complicated. "Gemma." Her mask stayed on though. This was a mission after all.

 

[Micah tol Powl]

Post 4 of 30
Objective: Bring Your Own Objective (BYOO)
Location: Tropis-on-Varonat

A vapor of pressurized, cooled gas formed a light fog at the foot of the loading ramp.

The black cloak fluttered just a scant few centimeters from the ground, shifting and flowing with the movements of the small boy as he descended from out of the foreboding form of the Sith Infiltrator. The serpentine form of the Yuuzhan Vong's living weapon draped across his shoulders, it's dragon-like head perked up and peering about the landscape with an innate curiosity.

Captain Kasshu was already standing out on the landing field, conversing with a brutish-looking humanoid. Onlookers from the town were gathering to observe the unloading and deployment of Kasshu's stormtroopers from the 309th Legion.

"...you have nothing to be concerned about, with all the piracy in this system, the Supreme Leader merely wishes to ensure the security and well-being of Varonet."

Captain Kasshu was giving the humanoid alien the sales pitch.

And the humanoid alien was resistant. "But the star port..."

"...will benefit from the improved security," the young Pantoran interjected, a slow pass of his hand a practiced, simple gesture that may have appeared to be nothing more than a salutation.

"...will benefit from the improved security," the brutish alien echoed back, his facial expressions oddly neutral as he seemed entranced for a moment.

"The Supreme Leader has our best interests at heart," the young Pantoran remarked offhandedly, against sparking the alien to echo back his words. Then, with a different wave, the boy in the dark cloak said merely, "Leave us."

As the alien retreated away from the stormtrooper and the youngling, the purple-haired youth scanned the crowd that continued to watch the stormtroopers standing on the landing field. As he did, he felt something. He took it for a shuttle or a ship taking off at first. A light tremor, as one might experience near a star port.

Then another, stronger this time.

And another. "Is this planet stable?" the boy asked, turning his head to look up at the stormtrooper captain.

Kasshu flashed a bit of a smile. "That would be the Morodin," the man offered, somewhat smugly, as though the word or name was supposed to have meant something to him.

"What's a Morodin?"

There was a loud rumble. A tremble shook the ground at his feet. Turning to glance back, he saw it.

Or, rather, he saw part of it. It was a neck, a large head visible against the sky as the creature came into full view as it moved near the edge of the landing field. It was fifteen meters, perhaps more. A gargantuan beast, lumbering toward the treeline. A creature of such majesty and power that the mere sight of it was awe inspiring.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Post 15
Bespin

As the little group split up, Natasi cast one last appraising glance at [member="Max Fel"] and [member="Corvo Santagar"] before making her exit. "If you'll excuse me, gentlemen, I need to speak to Ms. Chambers about the situation at home. Do feel free to mingle..." She lofted her eyebrows and then wound her way through the crowd. Nearby, [member="Marzena Choi"] was schmoozing with two Anoat nobles -- don't let's interfere with that, she thought with a smile -- and so Natasi turned to speak briefly to a delegation from Isis. The planet was run by a mining conglomerate, tied back in some way to the ancient Figg Conglomerate, and were cautiously optimistic about striking an arrangement with the First Order. She sweet-talked them, promising that they would get in a room together later and discuss in better detail.

After ensuring the Isis people had their hands filled with cocktails and hors d'ouvres, the Moff smiled and took her leave, winding through the crowd, nodding here, shaking a hand there, smiling and twinkling her way across the lobby to where [member="Sioux Chambers"] stood, efficiently overseeing the event, headset and clipboard at the ready. "Sioux," Natasi greeted her. "Is there somewhere private we can talk? Have we yet heard back from the Supreme Commander about the Supreme Leader? I still don't know whether he will be appearing here in person," she murmured, so that they wouldn't be overheard. The Moff cast a glance around the room, dark eyes hesitating for a moment on the form of Ms. Choi before continuing to sweep. "And has there been any word on the General?"

 

[Krayn]

Cloud City
Baron Administrator’s Office
Bespin

“Mr Sonn.” The sickly voice of the fat Twi’lekk carried across the deep wooden desk that the two ‘business’ associates were sat at. The one talking, an Ulgo Lagor, head of one of Ryloths key recruitment firms had arrived earlier in the morning, right in the middle of the First Order’s diplomatic arrivals which had been an absolute nightmare for the Baron-Administrator. “Your current workforce has been lacking a particularly strong stock, we have addressed the situation from our last batch and will be rectifying this in your next request.”
Ileris remained silent as he stared at the holodisplay that was being projected onto the table, taking in the image of the ranks upon ranks of Twi’lekk males that had been presented to him.
“Each of them is willing?” Ileris questioned with a raised eyebrow. “No slaves.”
Ulgo seemed caught by the question. His chin wobbled as he shook his head. “No, each has been willingly recruited for your company.”
He was lying, Ileris knew that just by his tone. Sometimes however the galaxy was a cruel place.
“How soon can you have them on the shipyards?” The Baron-Administrator questioned with a disregarding look. “Sooner then the last time I hope.”
“Naturally, we can have them all ready by…Oh let us see?” Ulgo took a long gulp from the glass of Corellian Brandy that had been presented to him by Ileris when they had first began the meeting. “Three standard days, plus travel time.”
Ileris made sure that he gave an unimpressed look towards the Twi’lekk. “That will suffice I suppose. You will be rewarded as per our previous arrangement once the order has been given.”
“Oh yes the reward.”
Here it comes. Ileris sighed, dealing with these criminals took a toll on his health.
“We were in agreeance of ten thousand credits no?” Ulgo took another sip of his drink. “We were thinking that twenty thousand would be more suiting to this stock Mr Sonn.” From near the door a female Twi’lekk, tougher then her usual sort yet no less as beautiful stepped forward. “Isn’t tat right Rala? Twenty would be better.”
“Twenty? Ulgo for years we have undergone fair trade and this is how you feel our relationship has allowed us to act. Fifteen and I probably would have said maybe, but twenty? I’m afraid I can’t allow that to happen.” Ileris stared intently at the Twi’lekk slaver. “I’m afraid my reputation wont allow it.”
“Reputation? You are merely just a rich man who allows the First Order to use him as a rag. Twenty or nothing!”
“Very well.” Ileris waved his hand and stood as the female Twi’lekk Rala wrapped a wire around the neck of Ulgo. “Everyone has their price Ulgo. Everyone.” He ignored the bulging eyes of the Twi’lekk as his airways were completely cut off. “You see I’m a Moff now Ulgo. Your operation cannot be allowed to continue as it has, it needs smarter leadership.”
A soft wheeze was released by the great fat beast as he died. Rala returning to her full height as she unwrapped the metal wire.
“Smarter leadership indeed.” Ileris gave her a look. “Twenty as discussed, have them in the station in three days, also…” He approached the Twi’lekk and grabbed her by the small of her back pulling her closer. “I shall take our other half of the deal now.”

 

[Sentiri]

Location: Seedy cantina on Burnin Konn
Objective: Transition to the next phase of the operation
Allies: [member="Hyori Tal"], [member="OK-3103"]
Enemies: Too much chatter
Post: 3

"Fine." Her voice was cool but there was only focus and poise. The short-on-words woman returned to her typical state of being. There was no need to waste breath on idle chatter or fraternization. They had a job to do; the time had come to get that job done. Lacking was the acid with which her icy tongue was often laced. But Sentiri was not frustrated nor displeased. In a way, she was almost elated. Finally a mission was before her where she could demonstrate her true skills. Too frequent had been the assignments that put her outside of her element. The Chiss Agent had accepted them nonetheless. They were each valuable tools to broaden her knowledge and skills. But this task was her specialty. And she was excited to display her performance.

And excited for a Chiss just appeared like confident but stoic determination to everyone else.

The blue-toned woman took a last sip of water. "Comms check in 15." With that, the Chiss stood from her seat and strode out the door. She kept her pace at an average rate. Her posture was confident, nose upturned slightly for a condescending air, common for most Chiss. But Sentiri made those adjustments consciously. No one would expect anything less of some uppity Chiss spacer, too good for everyone around her. Though a part of her mind certainly questioned the inferiority of those around her, a larger part wasn't content with assumptions. Sentiri wanted to prove that she was superior. She wanted to earn her rightful place.

The operative had no need to meet with Hyori's contact, so instead Sentiri made for her freigther. The punctual Chiss should arrive just in time to meet a carrier delivering the payment of metal ingots. Her infiltration complete, the agent could focus on the task at hand: handling her robots in the extraction of the Resistance agents.

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Post: 18/38
Location: Bespin
Allies: First Order
Enemies: Unknown
Objective: 6 (build a ski resort on Mt. Ison)

"I remember Istvan Hosszu: thay guy was one that became a jockey in sulkied races after he failed to make it as a soldier or as a figure skater. Skye is the big destination for would-be First Order jockeys"

"Istvan is a horse trainer now"

Horse races are a distant ancestor to podracing, but nonetheless dangerous to the jockeys despite the sport being rather tame in comparison to podracing. Dunames went to a hippodrome once, watching through 12 races in a single night, with about two minutes per race, and the remaining 18 minutes are spent changing the horses from a race to another, presumably for different types of horse races. But Frank was to ride a tauntaun devoid of saddle. He had to attempt taming one so that the construction of a tauntaun corral in a cave could begin. That, however, would require Dunames not so much to fly to Bespin but to Anoat. Which meant that tauntaun riding would have to wait. For now only alpine and cross-country skiing would be available for the resort's patrons was the resort to open today. Nevertheless, Dunames and Virginie will stay to watch in the distance while Frank attempts to catch and tame a tauntaun out on the frozen fields of Hoth. But right after Frank dons his stormtrooper armor, he gets closer to the prefab shelter's door:

"Frank, how different are tauntauns from horses?"

"Tame the alpha female and the rest of the herd becomes tameable. I'll just have to do without a saddle: the equipment for animal care is on Anoat, and Anoat is under lockdown"

"You're the animal care expert here, Frank. Just do your own thing with tauntauns. Then you can go back to Lanteeb once this internship ends"

"Roger"

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Post 16
Bespin

Sioux made a quick note on her clipboard before looking up, her eyes narrowing slightly at Natasi. "Nothing from the Supreme Commander," said Sioux, glancing past her boss at the crowd. "I've sent a follow-up, but meanwhile security is proceeding as if he will be here in person. No stone unturned, et cetera. We don't want another Lanteeb. Or Galidraan," she added with a disapproving look back down at her clipboard. When Natasi asked after 'the General', there was no question who this was. Sioux was getting impatient with her employer. The woman's obsession had begun to grate on Sioux's nerves. The woman was not a big fan of the General -- a gruff, unpleasant sort of man, if you asked her -- but whatever had transpired between he and Natasi Fortan had wounded the Moff deeply.

Sioux hated anyone who hurt her boss -- her friend. So even if Natasi was content to put on a brave face and treat the General as if he were the consummation devoutly to be wished, Sioux was having none of it. Natasi needed to get over it, and fast, before she wasted away.

"Nothing from the General, Natasi," said Sioux. "I think perhaps you should let your military advisers handle that. There is no need to involve yourself, and -- good God, what is she doing here?" She had caught a glimpse, through the shifting crowd, of Marzena Choi mingling with some Anoat nobility.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Post 17
Bespin

Natasi gave Sioux a look. The look that told her that she was unimpressed by her attitude and yet, at the same time, somewhat grateful that someone cared enough to take up her cause, even after Natasi herself had been forced by her own moral compass to set it down. "Enough, Sioux. Enough," she said sternly. "She will be at these events for a long time to come, barring any horrifying accidents -- " again, the look -- this one said keep it to yourself, Sioux -- before she signaled to a waiter. He came over. "Gin and tonic," she ordered. "And for my friend -- ahh, let's see. Whiskey sour." She looked over at Sioux's face, which was somewhat perplexed, because she had never had a whiskey sour. "Live a little, Sioux. Try something new. Like a whiskey sour. Or saying something nice to Ms. Choi. She really is a remarkable person."

The Moff found herself on the receiving end of a look herself. "Give it a rest, would you please?" Natasi said waspishly. "It's my broken heart, and she wasn't even the one who broke it." The waiter came back with the drinks. "Now come on, show me what preparations the security people have made." The Moff gestured towards a hallway door and nodded. "Let's find a conference room. My cheeks hurt from having to smile so much."

[member="Sioux Chambers"]

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Post 18
Hoth

While [member="Darth Veles"] spoke to the commander, Decima did something very foolhardy: she wandered off.

Something -- call it boredom, call it the Force -- beckoned to her, and she wandered away. She was curious about Echo Base -- about the role it played in history. There were rumors -- oh, unsubstantiated, of course -- that her half-sister Natasi had spent some time there in more recent past. That she had been tortured nearly to death in the ruins of the this clandestine ice-chest of a world. Perhaps that knowledge made her feel uneasy. Perhaps it excited her. Even Decima didn't know for sure. She had grown up in the shadow of Natasi Fortan; the elder Fortan girl had had everything she had been deprived: a loving family relationship, an idyllic childhood, and a leg up on the world.

Decima had a lot of lost time to make up for. She stewed in her feelings, lost in the familiar feelings that brought her comfort and discomfort at once, like a blanket that was too warm for the weather. When she looked up again, she was in a broad ice cavern, and didn't realize from which way she had come. Before she could reach out for the signature of Veles in the Force, she felt it: the painful slash of something against her back. Her cry echoed off the wall until it was silenced by a furry fist punching across her jaw, knocking her flat, and out cold. The creature studied his prey for a moment, then seized her by the ankle and began dragging her back to its lair nearby.