Invasion Some Like it Hoth [Galactic Alliance Invasion of First Order Hoth|Bespin Hex]

Gabriel Sionoma · May 19, 2017

Location: En route to Bespin, breaking out from hyperdrive
Vessel: Piloting Alliance Stealth U-Wing (U-60x)http://starwarsrp.net/topic/108663-alliance-stealth-u-wing-u-60x/
Objective: Bespin infiltration
Allies: Galactic Alliance, [member="Asmus Janes"], [member="Adder"], [member="Shamira_Karuto"], [member="Makai Dashiell"]
Enemies: First Order
Equipment:

His eyes drifted towards the ceiling of the vessel. It was an expensive and distinct upgrade from the former dropships that were provided to the Sulon Law Enforcement Expeditionary Group. Darron had crashed the last one on Skor though if truth be told, it was likely Gabe’s fault. He could have told him to back down as they fought atop the Slivilith, cruising through Metrobig City. Omai Rhen, in confidence, had told Gabe that he was a bit reckless for his own taste but appreciated the enthusiasm.

Nevertheless, when presented with the chance to be the hammer, the Alliance instead requested a scalpel. So his Vanguard armor rattled against the mannequin as he donned the Ghostsuit and the Phantasm Cloak. A utility belt, a light paddle, stealth blaster and carbine, wrister blaster, and infiltrator droids. The mission was clear from the beginning. To inflitrate Bespin, with whatever means was necessary. So this was their plan…

Gabe looked quietly over the shoulders of the pilots, the stars and planets racing across the screen in blurry show of black and whites. “How long until reversion?”

The pilot clicked on the navicomputer display which showed their trajectory, one routed over an extremely long distance. No need for stops in between, the cloaking and sensor masking within the ship was robust and prolific. While there was little to be spoken in terms of armaments, the potential for such a hardy needle to gouge deep into the heart of the target was apparent. “Shouldn’t be long now. Best buckle in.”

He gave a nod as he turned back to the cargo hold, a small team held within and prepared for the task at hand. Some of the faces he recognized, some of them he didn’t. But there was a truth that lingered: they were willing to make sacrifice. The First Order was a stagnant force of traditionalism, wiping out goodness and righteousness in their wake. If the act of forcing your soldiers to kill one another didn’t make them Sith, than Gabe wasn’t sure what would.

“Task is simple… ” He stated quietly. “We will be infiltrating Cloud City with the purpose of taking it from the First Order. History tells us that tyrants control their people through fear. It is the foundation for which all other lies stem. It is from the end of whip, painted as discipline in displays of propaganda, that they fuel their march.” He looked across to all the faces, sitting quietly as he spoke. “We will take that from them. And we will crush their foundation. After today, beyond any other conclusion, the people held beneath First Order’s boot will know one singular truth. That we aren’t afraid. And they shouldn’t be either.”

Small discussion and discourse, looks of inspiration, and all that. He wasn't big on inspiring diatribes in the verbal sense but when push came to shove, actions would speak louder than these words. Sitting down, he clicked the safety harness over before he heard the pat on the wall behind him. “Reversion in Five!”
And what felt like moments extended over an eternity, they broke from the darkness of space to find the windows filled with rust tinted gas. The jump was easier than he thought it would be, given how many times he had done so in far simpler vessels. This one was worth the credits for purchase.

The ship would set out, under the camouflage of its numerous stealth capabilities and sensor masking, with its nose pointed towards Cloud City. He wasn't sure where the other task forces would go but he had his eye turned towards the Calrissian Plaza. Even with the tactics of the First Order, and all entities as such that whittle away thoughts of rebellion, no one can ever fully remove dissidence from the culture that rested at the heart of Bespin. Perhaps he could find means to stoke an ember, once thought extinguished, into a roaring fire.

Kyrel Ren · May 19, 2017

Location: Hoth, Academy of Bogan

Allies: Order of Ren, First Order [member="Castor Ren"] [member="Kaalia Voldaren"] [member="Brennan Cabrol"]

Enemies: Galactic Alliance

Kyrel watched the snow fall as his mind was lost in deep thought. He had traveled far with one of his apprentices [member="Anora Shaw"] with whom he had taken under his wing. He had traveled from Vader's Castle on Mustafar his main home and now set it up as a place to train a new generation of Ren under his tutelage. He had become stronger since Skor II with now wearing the armor of the one he idolized he was now truly the heir to Vader's dark legacy as he would reintroduce the Galaxy to a new face that they have forgotten. He sounded like him, spoke like him, and fought like him. But in the end, he was not him but something better. Unlike Vader, he lacked any compassion and that made him the most deadly of the Ren. He had been training under a Sith Lord to become stronger, deadlier than the rest of his brothers and sisters. He was someone who would not be underestimated with, but what brought him here he did not know. He originally came here to study Force Nexuses but that changed.

He was now standing here in the middle of the hellish wasteland, and outside of the Academy of Bogan thinking of what had happened. It had been over a Year since Kaeshana, and now here he was a Knight of Ren, one of the most influential Ren in the Order and by far one of the most intimidating. He had killed Jedi, fought ancient Sith Spirits, and even been on Death's doorstep far more then Kyrel was comfortable with, but everything had a price and for Kyrel's power it was pain. It was all he has ever known, and this was proved further when a snowflake fell into Kyrel's gloved hand and not feeling a trace of cold or being able to admire its beauty he crushed it within his grasp. Was it all worth it to be beaten so many times in order to reach the point that he has now been in. Perhaps it was but for him, he would have done it time and time again to reach the point and beyond that Lord Vader was. He would eventually become one of the most feared beings in the Galaxy as the Supreme Leader's chief Enforcer. Soon that time would come and Kyrel was sure of it as long as he was strong enough.

But despite all this, as he went back to his deep thought, he had often dealt with thoughts he felt were impure. He felt anger, regret, and sadness. He at times had a hard time dealing with whether it was his thoughts or the aura that the suit gave. If this was what Vader felt, and the memory flashes of what he assumed were fragments of Vader's life didn't help either. Kyrel often thought that even though he had power, he would never know the touch of a gentle breeze, or the touch of a woman, or even the joys that love and life bring. But he thought to himself as they were mere fabrications of the part of him that was Thomas Kyrel and not Kyrel Ren. He needed to come to terms with the loss of his humanity but he viewed it as weak no matter even if he was working on getting his flesh regenerated. His vocal chords would never be the same nor his lungs. He would always have a life support panel attached to him even with new skin. Besides he was not weak as his brothers and sisters. That was fine to him. He was Kyrel Ren. Slayer of Jedi, Vader's Inheritor, Enforcer of the Empire, Servant of the Supreme Leader, and most of all Knight of Ren. That was all that remained while Thomas Kyrel was nothing more than a distant memory and he would bury that soon enough.

Kyrel stopped his pondering of his inner self and his past when he felt a sweet sickening familiar lullaby speak to him. "Come to me...my children." The voice he knew it as if it was within him all along. Always whispering promises of power, promises of surpassing Vader and taking all that would be his. He muttered to himself in a cold but surprised tone. "Master....." With that, he looked over to the disciple behind him and spoke to him. "Come, Apprentice, we are being summoned." He said as he walked into a deep stride inside to the throne room feeling the voice growing louder in his head telling him to come closer. He walked with purpose his cape flowed behind him as he slowly increased his pace. He reached inside the throne room where he saw him. Sieger Ren..... The Supreme Leader. Like Emperor Palpatine of old, he rarely came out of his solitude, and Kyrel was overwhelmed by the dark side aura he was giving off that he had to Kneel for a moment to his presence before rising and seeing others coming inside to see their Master. For what they were here for, he did not know but this he could tell must have been something Important to bring their master here.

Cathul Thuku · May 19, 2017

Location: Skor -> Ison Corridor
Objective: Control the Corridor
Allies: [member="Zark"] [member="Alexandra Morrow"]
Enemies: First Order [member="M33P"] [member="BB-10R2"]

"I want all weapons primed upon reversion to realspace: remenber, since we're in a nebula, it's not the same as fighting in open space. It will cause directed-energy weapons to dissipate faster over distance. Also once we make contact with the enemy, I will engage battle meditation"

"Any reason why wait until the enemy has opened fire?" Tanith asked Cathul.

"Battle meditation is, operationally, used as one would Force-EWAR"

After months of repairs post-Kaeshana, the ANS Excubitor was in service again, and not one moment too soon. Once again, as with every time where she had to be on the bridge for strategic movement, she runs the topology calculations in her head to fly from point A to point B, where point B is often an engagement zone. Flimsy escorts assigned to it, however, may prove to be a little questionable for an operational choice. The rest of the ships in Therapy Command were being spread out across the Anoat sector, and the bulk of that over Hoth and Bespin as support elements for the main Alliancist thrusts on both planets. Nevertheless, it was well-fitting with its operational doctrine of favoring carrier tactics. Which allowed it to earn victory over the First Order on Skor, where she stayed for weeks to help in its reconstruction. But today was different: Cathul was there mostly as to provide support for the Alliancist naval elements in the Ison Corridor, identified as a key hyperspace lane in the Anoat sector. Medvac, for example, focused on Hoth and Bespin, alongside Carmen, who took the Hero of Coruscant to Hoth. In the meantime, two long-range torpedoes were loaded in each assault concussion missile launcher, while the remaining missiles thereafter would be the Asmerus that weren't ready in time for the battle over Skor. Now that they made their reversion to realspace...

"We have arrived in the main staging area, admiral" the Excubitor's pilot reported.

"Open channel to all Alliance units in range"

"Channel open" the communications officer acknowledged.

"To all Alliance units in the Ison Corridor, this is Therapist Actual, we have arrived at the main staging area and keeping an eye on the movements of First Order fleets in the Corridor" she told [member="Alexandra Morrow"] and also [member="Zark"] over an encrypted command channel, provided the latter has arrived.

Capital ships:

ANS Excubitor (Procurator-X-class Grand Battlecruiser) Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
ANS Gravitational Anomaly (Peregrine-class pocket carrier) Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
ANS Lictor (Duquesne-class heavy frigate) Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A
ANS Mustafar (Mustafar-class monitor) Shields: 100% | Hull: 100% | Firing at: N/A

Attack craft:

96 OS-G2s
36 BTL-A-4 Y-Wings
12 Inimica-class gunships

Ashin Varanin · May 19, 2017

Six women sat around a fire, but the fire burned gold, and five of those women were dead. Or maybe they'd never lived: even a decade after she'd met them, Ashin couldn't say. They might have been people once, they might be aspects of the ineffable, they might be faces of a singular creature. Regardless, they sat around the golden fire with her like old friends.

Conquering the galaxy hadn't given Ashin much experience with friendship. That could explain why their intervention both charmed and frustrated her at a fundamental level. And this was certainly an intervention.

Their voices washed over her. She leaned back on her stone chair and watched streamers of golden light untwine across the starscape. Energy permeated this system. This world, perhaps the five masked women as well, cycled the living Force to the cosmic Force. There might be other worlds like this, or this one might be the Force’s heart as pertaining to this galaxy. On that question, and others, the Five Priestesses remained elliptically silent.

“What do you want me to do?” she said in a pause between Anger's harangue and Serenity's calm resolve.

“Why doesn't she understand?” Confusion said. The slant-mouthed mask took on a subtle aspect of despair.

“You need to honor your promise,” said Serenity. “You recognized the need for it once, and made it willingly. Now that you don't, you feel it binds you.”

Anger hissed. “Varanin, you swore to die before your time.”

“I have a wife,” Ashin snapped. “I owe her decades and the debt keeps growing. I need to learn to love my daughter. I'm on a mission-”

“And these are beautiful goals,” said Joy.

Sadness nodded. “But all things pass.”

“This is what it means to die before your time.” Serenity folded her three-fingered hands.

“You have deliberately cheated death three times since you made your promise,” sad Anger.

“Captain, you’re needed on the bridge,” said Confusion. “Please, please wake up.”

Location: Ison Corridor
Enemies: Galactic Alliance, [member="Zark"], [member="Cathul Thuku"], [member="Alexandra Morrow"]
Allies: First Order
Forces: Civilian science frigate S.S. Shambhala, registered to New Habat University on Varunda IX
Mission: Analyze pharmaceutical properties of ry hypa venom from the Mataou system; survive

"Report."

A big old Ishi Tib stood beside Ashin's empty chair; as she entered the Shambhala's bridge, he turned and met her eyes. They'd known each other the better part of half a century, her and Chief Engineer Kalaaa. He'd served in that role aboard the Chimaera, even commanded the flagship himself once upon a time after Death's Hand gutted Farn Engel. Long before that, he'd been Engel's first officer on a Gallofree transport turned infochant paradise turned revolutionary flashpoint - what a place for a lost Padawan to grow up.

Better days.

"We've raised shields and taken position behind the First Order picket line," Kalaaa rumbled, hands clasped behind his back. Like Ashin, he wore the off-white uniform of NHU's civilian star corps; like Ashin, he carried his share of scars and gravitas. "The Alliance brought three ships, one two thousand metres, two five hundred metres. Heavy shields, heavy weapons, no visible hangars suitable for fighters. Another fleet is just reverting now."

Ashin settled into her chair, considering the dream, if it had been a dream at all. Hold back, or defy the omens?

“Shields to maximum. All passengers to their quarters. Chief Kalaaa, I'll need you in the engine room. Prepare for an emergency situation.”

Progflaw99 · May 19, 2017

-- -- --

FIS Kuragin, with [member="Magnus Ren"]

Allies: First Order
Enemies: [member="Micah Talith"] | Taheera Sollo | Keric Dynt | Atham'aali'kema

-- -- --

The more conspicuous of the two, Aralu managed to blend just about as well as any other - his clothing of choice a well fit tunic and trousers, his midsection wrapped with a supple leather cummerbund. Atop he wore a coat, similar to his companion's, comfortable boots trodding across the deck. Yet a Disciple of the Order of Ren, he maintained his silence though the anticipation of what was to come ate at him. Young, inexperienced, but a vessel of the Dark Side, Aralu was ready to prove his worth - or so he thought. Raised from birth at the Ren Academy on Skye, Aralu had risen to the top of his cadre as the group's weapon expert. His weapon of choice, developed over time had been a lightsaber pike, unorthadox for even the Knights of Ren.

Aralu also felt the summons through the Force though he was powerless to respond. Letting a low snarl escape his lips he moved swiftly behind the Knight ahead of him, slipping past bodies, droids. His ears perked up as the PA systems chirped - it seemed they were to evacuate the station, all non-military personnel had been given an ultimatum - to leave. Thankfully, while it was a civilian and military station, there was extremely low potential for refugees or unaccounted for occupants to go unnoticed. Coupled with the on-board garrison, the station itself wouldn't be terribly in danger - though that wasn't his judgement to make. For now, the Disciple of Ren would follow Magnus, lightsaber pike in hand, a shorter more nimble saber concealed beneath the folds of his coat. To anyone else, his staff would look just like that - a staff.

Taheera Sollo · May 19, 2017

[SIZE=10pt]Objective: [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]Save civilians from terrorist labels on Anoat Station[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Vessel: [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]Calrissian Class Freighter with updated Sensor Mask and cargo hold painted with Sensor-Deflector Spray[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Location: [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]Hyperspace approaching Anoat [/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Allies: [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt][member="Micah Talith"] [member="Atham'aali'kema"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Enemies: [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]FO [/SIZE][member="Magnus Ren"] (potentially)

The healer was quiet. The force had interesting timing - escape one First Order world only to jump into another for war. She'd heard rumors from the Alliance. She and Gabe had discussed them briefly on Sulon before she left. Silent thoughts briefly drifted to the force master.

And then there was Maalik.

She knew what the Alliance was doing. They were trying to recruit an asset. The mirialan had no idea the Falleen woman had been an undercover Alliance agent and she wondered if once again, she was a little too trusting so quickly. But that was the thing. Maybe she was being naive but she believed Maalik when he said his past was behind him. Eyes connected to molten orbs as the lietuenant brought out an orange, button-up shirt with bright pink, blue, and yellow flowers on it to the chiss hybrid. Purple lips twitched slightly until another Alliance agent quickly whispered in the lieutenant's ear.

"Change of plans."

She frowned and fidgeted with the armorweave beneath her own clothing and the clunky grav boots on her feet.

"Hope you all aren't opposed to tight spaces."

Finally, she stood, fingers resting on the pack full of healing supplies that hugged her shoulders. She gave a sharp nod of her green chin. Myrtle-ellipses looked to Maalik as the captain's voice came over the ship's systems. "Hang on back there, reversion in three, two, one."

Alleycat · May 19, 2017

Location: FIS Kuragain - Officer's Mess

Allies: FO [member="Magnus Ren"] [member="Aralu Sar"]

Striker Squadron - [member="Pierce Fortan III"] [member="Nils Brenner"] [member="Ishana Pavanos"]

Enemies: GA

___

Sitting pretty relaxed with both feet up on another chair tossing popcorn up and catching it in her mouth, the rookie TIE pilot of Striker Squadron watched as the old pros played a rather instructive game of Sabacc while they killed time before their next patrol. Instructive because Gee was sure someone was cheating... but who was she to judge or say anything. He would have to pay up later for keeping her mouth shut though.

The young flight officer was in mid throw when the klaxons went off. Jianna lost concentration and of course the popped kernel dive bombed her open flight suit where the zipper was lowered and slid down the valley between her ample flesh mounds.

"Frak!" the dark-skinned Riflorian swore under her breath as she tried to fish it out while following the other pilots hurriedly out of the officer's mess to the hangar bay.

This wasn't her first rodeo flying Captain Brenner's wing, though every time "Curls" did, she wanted to make a good impression upon him, and the rest of the squadron as well. In a sense, Jianna was still earning their trust as the newbie replacement pilot.

Asharad Graush · May 19, 2017

Location: Enroute to Dosuun

Allies: [member="Null"], [member="Fiver"]

The Sith Lord sat in meditation on his Star Destroyer. Currently, it was in hyperspace and enroute to the Capital. He was the Supreme Commander, but by no means did he require to go on routine patrols - yet, there were performance reviews that were needing to be done. Besides, with the White Wolves disbanded, the only thing having A'sharad in the Southern Region of First Order Space was Yalara's Governor, Maurice Dalton, also the man who had designed A'sharad's cybernetic arm.

Flexing, his right arm, he paused, just before the door to his room was opened.

"Supreme Commander! Galactic Alliance Forces have been sighted in the Ison Corridor and over Bespin! FIS Kuragin is son going into lockdown once having evacuated all nonessential personnel."

He rose to his feet, swinging his head around to set his gaze upon the black armour of his House. Turning his head back around in the direction of the offending sentient in his quarters, he hummed softly before he said, the molten amber of his gaze glowing as he said, "Bring us around - Destination: Hoth." As Supreme Commander, and even as High Marshal, he had pushed for the planet of Hoth to be undefended for the inevitable Alliance Counter-Attack against the First Order's advances.

Out of all the planets in that sector of Space, Hoth was by far one of the least defended, at least, publicly. And so... All they needed was arrive in a timely manner.

The ship was in red alert moments later after the messenger had left. They'd be at Hoth soon, and now the Sith Lord began cloaking himself in that environmentally sealed phrik suit.

Sol Stazi · May 19, 2017

Location: Hoth
Objective: Begin Armored Planetary Assault
Allies: Galactic Alliance, [member="Aeron Kreelan"]
Enemies: First Order, [member="Torian Pierce"]
Twilight Company Status: 98%
Operating: All Terrain Tactical Enforcer
Gear:

Heavy Trooper Armor
A320 Blaster Rifle
Heavy Blaster Pistol
Vibroblades (3)
Thermal Detonators (bandolier of four)
Spare Power Packs

“Twilight Compan-eeee! Listen up!” Captain Lyra Sunfell’s booming voice pierced the cacophony of conversations echoing throughout the CR90 Corvette’s mess hall, and the whole room quieted at once, “Message from High Command!”

Raising the datapad in front of her, the stern Mandalorian read aloud,

“Soldiers of the Regiment!

Tonight is the night of nights.

Tomorrow on each world throughout the Alliance will be broadcasted the tidings that you have arrived, and the invasion for liberation has begun.

Soon it will be known throughout the ranks of the First Order that we free sentients of the Outer Rim will not go quietly into the night! Tyranny cannot be allowed to once more prevail. It must not be allowed to prevail.

You fight for the very soul of the galaxy. May the Force be with you.

Nemo Ven, Supreme Commander, Galactic Alliance Defense Force.”

The mobile infantry commander allowed another moment of silence for the company to process this new information, before screaming at them to grab their gear and get to their transports. As the rag tag band of soldiers exploded into frenetic action, a few pausing only briefly to shovel as much food into their respective orifices as possible before scrambling toward their bunk, Lieutenant Sol Stazi of the Sixty-First Mobile Infantry fell into practiced step behind his commanding officer.

Somehow, the duros was prescient enough to be already geared up and ready to go. Or maybe it was the family connections that tipped him off.

“Lieutenant, with me!” Captain Sunfell snapped belatedly, but Sol knew better than to take it personally. Protocol was how Lyra viewed the world of the Defense Force, the closest thing to her people’s cultural code that existed in Federation society.

“Ma’am.”

“We’ve received new orders from FLEETCOM,” she said briskly as enlisted personnel all around them leapt to get out of their way through the madness, “It seems after Skor brass has finally gotten around to recognizing just what tough sons of wampas the Sixty-First really are, and just what a mobile infantry unit can do.”

“Yes, ma’am!”

“So naturally, in their infinite wisdom they have decided to stick the lot of us in tanks,” the Mandalorian finished, and to his credit Lieutenant Stazi only faltered in his step for a few seconds.

“Captain? I don’t understand,” he confessed as soon as he had resumed his former pace with her confident, loping stride.

“Neither the kark do I, Lieutenant,” Lyra shot back with no small amount of venom, “First platoon will be assigned to an AT-TE heavy walker when we arrive at our new troop transport for the duration of this operation. I will be directing you and the rest of the company from one of the command AT-SAs we liberated from Atrisia.”

None of this made any sense to the duros first platoon commander, Twilight had never been a mechanized infantry unit, and as one of the few in the company at the moment that had gone through standard Alliance training, he probably had more knowledge than most of the rest of the men put together about operating heavy armor.

“Chin up, son,” Captain Sunfell had a habit of referring to troops in a way that felt paradoxically almost patriarchal, “Have faith that High Command has a grand plan, and if they don’t, then trust that the space wizards will pull a superlaser powered by the Force out of their asses or something.”

He was tempted to say that he didn’t think that was how any of that actually worked, but by now Sol Stazi knew better than to be snarky around a pissed off Mandalorian.

Instead, he simply said, “Ma’am, yes, ma’am!”

The memory seemed so far away now, even though it had been mere hours ago. Sweating in the cramped cockpit of the All Terrain Tactical Enforcer, the heavy dropship’s shields and an all too thin layer of durasteel were all that separated Sol and his men from the extreme temperature of atmospheric entry.

With Anoat and Bespin the Defense Force had taken a more delicate approach, but Hoth was a brute force job. One of the most tactically secure positions in the entire sector, there was nothing for it but to count on a certain element of surprise and batter their way past the First Order’s outer defenses before they fully realized what was happening.

The Lieutenant was sure that plan had gone down with varying degrees of success, and he knew that even if the most optimistic of scenarios, if he survived to make planetfall he would be seeing quite a lot fewer faces than he had when they had packed themselves into their armored coffins while still in hyperspace.

The truth was, either side could already be on the verge of ultimate victory or defeat, but from the time they entered the system to the time the Tactical Enforcer detached from its carrier, chances were very slim that Sol would hear anything about it. His transport had at least made it into atmo, but that was no guarantee that he and his men would survive to see combat.

Their target staging zone was some distance away from their primary objective, Outpost Veers, but no matter how many kilometers away they tried to land, fire from the surface would thin their numbers even further.

Gripping the console of the heavy walker’s sensor stations in front of him as everything around him vibrating so badly he felt he would be pulled apart, Lieutenant Stazi and the rest of Twilight Company rode their steeds down to the icy hell that awaited them on the surface below.

50th Terminus Armored

5 x AT-SA
20 x AT-SE
30 x AT-TE
40 x O1 Beshj

Belsavis Air Corps

4 Squadrons x T-87 Airspeeders
3 Squadrons x T-87/h Airspeeders

Spark Finn · May 19, 2017

[SIZE=10pt]Objective: [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]Don’t turn red every five seconds when addressed by the Micah kid[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Vessel: [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]Aeon Flux[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Location: [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]Anoat Sector [/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Allies: [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt][member="Micah Talith"] [member="Vexen"] [member="Allyson Locke"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Enemies: [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]FO [/SIZE]

Blue-eyes peeked up, encased behind the pair of glass lenses. The glow of her datapad spilled over her pale skin. Tip of her freckled-nose itched as she got a blast of a certain kind of smell from the orange-eyed kid. Some Talith dude. Smelled like peppers and sand with a mixture of too much space travel.

"Kahchew," sneeze left her nose suddenly. She sniffled and quickly closed her eyes. Grav boots sat untouched on the bench. She'd be keeping her converse shoes. #duh Datapad lowered to squeeze into her fannypack. #hipster

Had to play the role of the civilian today.

For now, her presence in the force was masked.

Vexen · May 19, 2017

Location: civilian ship with [member="Micah Talith"] and [member="Allyson Locke"]

Vexen itched at her shoulder. She tried to do this surreptitiously so that Micah wouldn't tell her off for it again. With thick fur Vexen didn't typically wear clothes but for this mission that wouldn't do. She had a shipsuit on. Vexen had also been introduced to the concept of a hoodie. This was a new thing for the Defel wraith. The hood could be pulled up to avoid drawing too much attention to the fact that her fur absorbed all visible light.

For the fifth time she checked that she had her credentials tucked in her clothes. The wraith was a brave little creature. Some of them time. She would still rush to hide behind Micah's coattails in most social situations. The incident at the Ring of Kafrene with [member="Kaili Talith"] had given her confidence a serious knock. That had taken time to heal, even now the scars were there, deep in her psyche. A few hours in the imperial prison and she had been following their order just to save herself from further punishment. That was what had haunted her since the event, not the physical damage that had long healed.

“Problem,” she asked the pilot, sensing something amiss.

“They're rerouting civilian traffic. There are a lot of ships moving now. There are thousands of civilians on that station being evacuated.”

“Plan B?” She asked, looking across at Micah.

“Not yet, but get ready for it. We'll see how close we can get. Blend in with the traffic.”

Naomi Carolina · May 19, 2017

[SIZE=10pt]Objective: [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]Protect the bombers[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Location: [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]Approaching Hoth[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Allies: [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt][member="Xel"] [member="Ryan Korr"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Ship[/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]: http://starwarsrp.net/topic/108324-dauntless-class-x-wing/[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10pt]Enemies: [/SIZE][SIZE=10pt]FO [/SIZE]

The rusty-redheaded teen was put on special assignment. Jay Wilson didn't agree and raised hell with [member="Asmus Janes"]. The rest of her squadron was going somewhere else. She'd be okay and Asmus had enough faith in her. Plus, none of them were the types to disobey direct orders. Jay would be okay too, eventually. She'd probably miss her fellow redhead, [member="Adder"], the most.

And Naomi wasn't alone. She had Ryan Korr with her, to help protect the Ghost Squadron on their run. The freckled girl still didn't know how she felt about all this force stuff. She'd originally told Jay she was just gonna brush it off and decide not to train. It was all a bunch of superstitious hooha. But he and the rest of the squad had talked her out.

Suppose she'd be cursing or thanking them later.

Comms connected directly with the Ghost Squadron and her wingmate, Jedi Master Korr.

"Wraith's got you boys covered. Prepare for reversion."

At least Asmus wouldn't have to listen to her song choice now.

Shields were up and weapons were hot. The HUD displayed everything clearly and her hazel gaze couldn't help but goggle a bit. The hyperspace warning booped off and the long-lines of stars popped back into static pinpricks of light as the large, white planet of Hoth loomed in front of the tinted canopy shields.

RC 212 · May 19, 2017

3rd Imperial Infantry
1st Battalion, Spade Company- (100% Strength- Will downgrade as we go.)
Objective: Hold the Line for Reinforcements to arrive.
Allies: Not sure yet
Enemies: [member="Naomi Carolina"] - [member="Sol Stazi"]

At last the war had finally come. TK had grown ancy over having his troops stuck in this ice hole doing absolutely nothing but patrolling wastelands. Things didn't look good as he surveyed the Command table from the Opcen.

"Captain Strain."

"What."

"We have incoming bogies flying tight formation. Seven klicks out and closing."

TK crossed his arms and raised an eyebrow inside his helmet. The men were frosty. Literally. But they were only one company. The rest of the Battalion was in the rear at the Bogan Academy at the moment and they hadn't thought to bring much in the way of mobility. No it would just be them.

"Got a count on the element?"

"Looks Company size, with more coming in no doubt. We don't have a lot of options here."

"Don't underestimate an old timer like me Lt. I've fought off more nightmares than you could possibly imagine. Sound the alarm, set the Outpost to condition one. Alert all heavy weapons teams to spread and make me a static firing line. E-webs and Plex launchers every twenty five meters

RTO, get on the Comms and call Veers HQ. Let em know we're gonna need more bodies up here."

Outpost Veers was halfway sunk into the ice, ringed by a defensive wall that connected to trenches. Those trenches ran the length of the valley between icy peaks, blocking advancement like a beachhead. It was about to be a killing field out on the icy valley floor. AA guns began to open up, rattling his teeth with their booms as flak shells ripped and spiralled through the air outside.

The battle space was already becoming wreathed in a thick mire of snowdrift and acrid haze.

"Too easy sir."

"I'll be heading to the front lines as soon as we make contact. Those Heavy weapons emplacements should buy us a couple minutes to get set. Now scram."

The Lt. snapped a quick salute and made his way out. Spade Company as relatively inexperienced. Most of his seniors had been killed during the Old Imperial Remnant days. Some of them were promoted Crinan Royal Guard, others mercenaries. They weren't kitted in that new fangled armor either.

No TK liked it old school.

"Staff sergeant who's coming up to replace us when we rotate out of here? Is it those damn FN type troopers."

"I think so Sir."

The old timer drew his E-11 at the high ready and grinned.

"Good, let's make a big mess of bodies for them to clean up."

"Aye sir."

"This ain't the Navy guy. Say Yes Sir. That aye craps for the space bunnies."

"Yes Sir."

"Good looks like we are about to catch it then. Let's go. Lt. Talson you have the Opcen."

Then they walked out...

Shaydae Desmaris · May 19, 2017

Objective: Prepare for War
Allies: [member="Torian Pierce"] | [member="Pharazon Draken"] | @FO
Enemies: [member="Sol Stazi"] | GA and Allies
Gear: F-11 D Blaster Rifle, SE-44C Blaster Pistol, FO-02 Stormtrooper Armour Snow Variant, Disruptor Pistol

Theme: [youtube] https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IAcTcHWi_k8[/youtube]

The metallic snap of Duraplast settling into place brought a smile to her face, the sides of the torso she’d just settled onto Private Landis fitting like a glove. After three separate fittings and adjustments, it should, the snow variant of the FO-02 armor proving far trickier than she’d first anticipated when she’d been assigned a small tour on the icy planet Hoth. Running a hand over the edge of the left pauldron attached to the chest plate, checking for cracks, nicks, and sturdiness of the connection. Satisfied that all was well, she pulled away and repeated the motion with the second behemoth standing in her small armory, Private Gutierrez.

Looming over her small 5’ 4” frame, the two troopers often enjoyed playing a game of cat and mouse with the Staff Sergeant, old habits from years of campaigns and battles fought alongside each other hard to break. Today, they were solemn and focused, all humor and good nature hidden from view behind eyes that blazed with the anticipation for the battle to come.

Sometime within the last hour or so, alarms had set the outpost buzzing with a flurry of anticipation and preparation. The Galactic Alliance had made themselves known, ships breaking through the atmosphere surrounding the frigid planet, all stations on alert as the war between the two factions came to a head, this time on the First Order’s home soil.

Hands guided white Duraplast over the wide shoulders, another series of clicks as the armour settled into place, another perfect fit, tailored to his measurements and perfectly situated to afford the largest surface of protection for their front-line fighters. Fingers deftly twisted at the gauntlets already settled on wrists, a tug on belts to ensure a snug fit and secure clasp. The twins, as she fondly called them, stood still, eyes following her movements but offering no commentary as she continued her hundred-point inspection, copper eyes missing nothing.

”Inspection complete. All parts accounted for and adjusted as needed.”

Turning to the table behind her, Des grabbed a pair of side arms, standard SE-44C Blaster Pistols and secured them to the right thigh armor of each soldier before resettling their thermal jackets to hang properly. Another set of guns were produced, F-11 D Blaster Rifles shoved at the two, both taking the proffered weapons with a small salute and wiry grins.

”Don’t lose them or I’ll have you cleaning boots for the rest of this karking assignment.”

A raised eyebrow preceded a single finger motion for the two to turn, helmets and pack settled behind them. While they donned the helmets and attuned their HUD and comm units to the proper channels, Des took another moment to glance over their armor, tense expression and narrowed eyes the only sign of her true worry. The closest she had to family since signing up with the First Order Military, the waiting for the two to return from each battle had her on edge, a game she would never get used to even after a decade of service to various military organizations.

As the seal of each suit was activated, the two Stormtroopers saluted, robotic ‘Sir, yes, sir!’s echoing as they marched out of the armory to join the rest of their squad in defense of the military outpost.

Turning to a datapad on a nearby table covered in debris of half-finished weaponry and armor, her fingers sped across the screen, tapping into the Outpost’s encrypted comm frequency.

”Staff Sergeant DesMaris requesting status update regarding Alliance forces in vicinity.”

:: Galactic Alliance Forces spotted in the Ison Corridor and over Bespin, enroute to Cloud City. All nonessential personal have been evactuated from-::

”I don’t give a kark about Bespin! Update on the forces at our doorstep, Specialist Trynn.”

The last word was strained, her nerves on fire while she waited to hear what scale of attack they were facing at the front gates of the old Military garrison.

::We’re still assessing the gather-::

”Request Sergeant Pierce’s presence in the armory immediately.”

The stuttering of Trynn was cut off with a push of a button, her threshold for incompetence already at a limit for the day, and the battle had yet to begin. Pierce would be of far more valuable information than the bloody voice on the comm unit, the veteran soldier worth ten of the rookies they seemed to have collected in the recent months. Reeducation would have to wait until later, they had a score to settle.

A few quick steps towards the cage that held her personal armor, a swipe of her identichip and a punched code later, the door slid open. Time to prepare herself.

Shamira Karuto · May 19, 2017

Location: Bespin – en route to Calrissian Plaza
Vessel: Cargo Hold of the U60x, with rest of strike team.
Objective: Bespin infiltration
Allies: Galactic Alliance, [member="Asmus Janes"], [member="Adder"], [member="Makai Dashiell"], [member="Gabriel Sionoma"]
Enemies: First Order
Equipment:
· Light Paddle
· Ghostsuit (Holes conveniently cut for Montrals)
· Utility Belt
· DC 19 Stealth Carbine
· Infiltrator droids
· Single lightsaber, blue blade.

If there was a singular truth that lingered throughout the ride out of the hanger, and down to the Cloud City below, is that Shamira had never been in a ship so silent. Not just the outside, though the extremely quiet hum of the engines were lower than any ship she had been on. But inside the cabin as well. All around her, unfamiliar faces peeking out of the stealth suits provided to them, all stoically silent. Being an extremely quiet person herself, this would normally do very little to bother the Togruta. However, being her first full mission, and a nerve racking one at that, practically made her want to be noise. She wouldn’t receive it, though, so her lithe fingers lifted to the shadowsilk mask of her suit, and silently lifted it over her nose. The only part of her body still showing were the only parts that had any color. Her silver blue eyes.
The ride proceeded in silence as the ship rapidly approached their target, cloud city. Shamira supposed she should be thankful. Being a stealth mission, she should’ve been thankful no sounds of lasers, shrapnel, and TIE’s approached them, but she knew the second they broke form hyperspace could change that in an instant. While the silence unnerved her, the approaching sounds that were a possibility shook her more.
Her fingers lingered ran over the cold metal of her lightsaber hilt, drawing a small smiled behind her mask. To be trusted to be a part of this mission, one so important, was an extreme honor for her. Even though she was years removed from setting foot for the first time in the Temple, these moments felt like the real beginning for her with the Jedi Order. She knew not the outcome of the coming mission, but she knew the memories and lessons would stay with her forever. It gave her confidence, even with the nervousness that surrounded her mind.
Heavy, booted footsteps broke the silence and immediately drew the attention of the Togruta from her lightsaber. The speech from her commanding office was nothing grand, to be sure, but its simple words and definite tone inspired confidence in the teen. Clipping the lightsaber back to her hip, she pulled the seat belt over her midsection, ready to feel the sudden pull from hyperspace, and those horrible sounds to begin.

Bryce Bantam · May 19, 2017

Objective: Free the hunted and enslaved!
Allies: GA Officially [member="John Shepherd"] | [member="Nawago"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Leo Vandermolen"] (Others with GA characters)
Enemies: All who would harm Wampa!
Theme X

The White hat with its' cargo of Coalition infiltrators exited hyperspace in the Hoth system. For weeks, ok well maybe like a week or so, the brave men and women of the Kathol had prepared for this most dangerous of missions. Their brother in arms, the cyber snow bear himself Nawago had brought it to the attention of the high-ups with their group that he needed their help. Reports of the death of his people weighted heavy on his cybernetic head. He even brought in proof of the horrors committed against his people in the form of new winter gear made for the First Order, made from the skin and fur of his own people. Now it took two maybe three mugs of lum before the council had decided something needed to be done. However full scale war was out of the question. The coalition was neutral in the affairs of other nations, so a plan was created. One so cleverly cleaver how could it fail...

As the ship sailed closer to the planet Hoth all was made ready. Body paint and glitter was applied to every dancer. Hair was combed and teased to look perfect should then be boarded. Under the guise as common entertainers they had been hired by Star Tours Ski Resort on Hoth's famous North Ridge. Once their they would begin to form an insurgence of sorts. Aimed not at the FO directly, but rather the filthy poachers that hunter the noble Wampa for sport and profit.

However all they planned now rested on them getting through customs without raising suspicions.

"Joza, can you have someone find my Mr Heartbeat sash? After that raise First Order System control. See if we can get clearance to land..."

Kaalia Pavanos · May 19, 2017

Allies: [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Castor Ren"] | [member="Brennan Cabrol"] | [member="Anora Shaw"] | First Order

Enemies: [member="Jamie Pyne"] | Galactic Alliance

Gear: Mirari, red-bladed lightsaber

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IGA39fHXQm8

Kaalia wondered for how long she would have be here. She was here to help [member='Castor Ren'] in watching over the captive [member='Jamie Pyne'] and make sure she would not break out. Most of her days were spent in solitude however, as her assistance was rarely required. She filled her time with meditation and thinking of a certain pilot. If anyone asked her she would have said the first activity was the one practiced the most, but in reality the second was what really occupied her mind. The pilot went by the name of [member="Ishana Pavanos"] and had flipped her world upside down in record time. Not a day went by where the brunette didn't cross her mind, she was nothing short of captivated by the woman.

As she walked through the hallways of the Academy of Bogan the redhead mulled over things to do with Ishana once she got off the frozen wasteland of Hoth. Time to come up with any concrete ideas was not permitted to her however, as a voice spoke to her directly through the Force seemingly out of nowhere.

<< My Knights of Ren - I call upon you now, assemble to me. >>

It was Sieger, there was no doubt about it. Kaalia couldn't say she was too happy with the summoning, but she didn't have much of a choice. He had given her a home and all she wanted and it was to be expected there had to be something in return. Where the vast majority of Ren were simply unwaveringly loyal to Sieger out of what the woman would have guessed admiration and respect, she herself saw it as differently. She was given a home, so she would protect it. It was more business-like than anything. The Kro Varian changed course towards the throne room where she no doubt would find the other Ren that were currently inside the facility.

As she arrived Kaalia would find [member='Castor Ren'] and [member='Kyrel Ren'] to be the faces she recognized. A small nod was sent to both before the door of the room they were standing in front slid open. She heard Sieger beckon his 'children', a title she would never directly acknowledge. He was not her father, and would never be. Despite that she respected the power he wielded. It was definitely something she had never felt from any other being. Despite that, she simply stood. She was unmoving with a neutral expression visible on her face, a slight wonder why they had been called her present in her mind. The woman was confident she would find out very soon.

Natasi Fortan · May 19, 2017

A L L I E S

[member="Ranulph Tarkin"] | [member="Rhia Novatinsky"] | The First Order

E N E M I E S

The Galactic Alliance

O B J E C T I V E S

Evacuate priceless historical artifacts ahead of Galactic Alliance invasion

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Cs23nStrk-E

The Cloud City Museum of Historical Antiquities was one of the crown jewels in the First Order's expansive network of museums. It was one of the most beautiful buildings in Cloud City, and contained some of the oldest and most priceless items, not just in the First Order, but the galaxy. Audrey Saint George was standing in the central foyer with an army of museum workers and junior curators bustling around her, using whatever means necessary to move the museum's wares out to the trucks lining up in Calrissian Plaza, outside. The foremen -- each representing one of the main halls in the museum -- clustered around Audrey as she ran through her checklist.

"The Plague Years exhibit?" Audrey asked, running her pen along the checklist on her clipboard.

"All clear, Chief Curator," responded the foreman. "I've just finished my final sweep, everything is in truck Aurek as you instructed."

"Very good," Audrey said. "Your men can assist with the dismantling of the First Order Era exhibition, yes? And we can use your expertise on the Galactic Civil War showroom. These are among the oldest items -- not to mention, the most valuable -- in the galaxy, let alone the museum. Extreme care is required. Choose two or three of your best workers to help and meet me there with Jazmyndar and Dr. Enistol." She indicated the turbolift in the center of the expansive lobby. The foreman nodded and turned to his team, selecting a few to come with him, while Audrey went through the rest of the teams.

The "Early Years" exhibit team was nearing 75% completion; their artifacts from the beginning of Cloud City's histories were so old that attempting to move them caused some to break and, at times, simply dissolve into dust. "Let's leave artifacts that are on a physical pedestal for now. Anything in suspension seems to be safe," Audrey instructed the foreman. "Between breaking the items and letting them fall into the hands of those pigs, I'm not sure which I'd prefer. We can always attempt repairs." She adjusted her spectacles. "Get back to it, then. The rest of you, get moving. Those trucks are taking off soon, we need everything loaded up as soon as possible."

She turned towards the door and approached [member="Ranulph Tarkin"]. "Lieutenant," she said gravely, standing on her toes to look over her shoulders out the windows. Calrissian Plaza was ordered chaos -- lines of people moving towards the evacuation lines, and three large container truck speeders hovering near the museum where such vehicles were never to be seen. "How are we looking? Any trouble so far?"

Allyson Locke · May 19, 2017

A few days ago.

Allyson sat on the bed of a very unfurnished apartment. A package sat next to her and she started to go through it. Frowning, there was a few notes and other bits of equipment for the next mission she was undertaking. Looking it over she found a wrist gun and a pair of small pistols. Continuing to dig through she found her uniform and groaned. Allyson wondered if these things were jokes and provided entertainment to the head of the SIS. Shaking out the uniform she watched seeing the type of cutting the thing had on it.

Groaning Allyson organized herself and set herself up for the mission.

Arriving at Space Station, Fis Kuragin:

Allyson dragged her suitcase behind her with a strategically placed no-show device to hide the equipment she had following her. The handle was a multi tool and the rest was filled with some other things that would be needed. Allyson stood in the middle of the space station hub, she adjusted the outfit only to make it show her chest a bit more. Groaning Allyson cursed the woman that the package was originally addressed to [member="Kaileanne Vera"] , she seemed to have better things to do.

She waited for the boy that was related to her girlfriend, he was one of her contacts. Hopefully Vexen was with him, because then he would probably keep his mouth shut. Frowning, she hoped he forgot his phone at home.

[member="Micah Talith"] [member="Vexen"]

Aeron Kreelan · May 19, 2017

H O T H
Enroute to Hanging Valley

With the larger deployment of the Galactic Alliance dropping towards the designated target area for deployment, Omega Pyre Prex Aeron Kreelan stood within one of the three the compact transports cargo hold, forward facing the eight squads of Omega Pyre Spec Ops Marines. It had been years since she'd crossed this vast icy wasteland that was Hoth, at a different time when the world had been under the jurisdiction of the Omega Pyre. Now they were back to the Hanging Valley.

Dsuk, the burly soldier gave a shake of his body. Electric fire eyes met his multiple ones, giving a nod. They then drifted over to Ooben, his tiny hands unfurling rather nervously.

" Lio aiulbe bano buunbeenumbu laummaambu daula m? Niooe maumba nausu Bueenu unbu... lenoolbuno"

That immediately made Dsuk rear up to his full height, taking offense to the remark.

"Enough." Came Aeron's direct order. "Remember why we are here." the last thing she needed was her troops fighting amongst each other. Annoyance cut through her features, the woman glancing up from the helm she inspected between her hands. Yet she could sense that everyone was tense. They'd were all seasoned soldiers, but this was important. This was personal. This mission was by far one of the most important that they'd have to undertake. The planet may have been under First Order jurisdiction, but Omega Pyre had past ties with Hoth.

"Karking hell." came the curse, the low hum of the engines drawing her attention away from Dsuk and Ooben. Pyre soldiers were not the only ones here with her. No, she had babysitting duty too. A few of the more diplomatic Jedi from the New Jedi Order were here, along with a few of their younger members. ( [member="Tsuki Aihara"] ).

And of course, the star pupil of the show: @Isar Kislo . Marcello's progeny that he delivered in her office with all the by your leave of any Zeison Sha kin. Familial duty might not bind the two, but tradition did. Meaning, she couldn't quite just kick Isar out. Marcello likely knew that, knowing that she was Zeison Sha. With all the chaos that had brought them from her Sullust office and now to Hoth, she hadn't had the chance to really speak to the younger man. Teenager likely? She was never really good with figuring out ages. Either way, Kislo was now under her wing.

For better or worse.

For Aeron

OBL-4 Sniper Drone
1 Squad of Omega Pyre

Invasion Some Like it Hoth [Galactic Alliance Invasion of First Order Hoth|Bespin Hex]

Sheriff of Sulon

The World Eater

Admiral, Therapy Command

Professional Enabler

Well-Known Member

Cursed

OCC Account

D A N G E R O U S

Sol Stazi

Guest

Encrypt Code: Eras//

Wraith

Short-stack

HUNGRY HUNGRY HIPPO!

Quartermaster

Burn the past - Heal the future

Just a dude

A Simpler Life

skin, bone, and arrogance

S H A D O W

Zeison Sha Adept

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