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

[Sal Katarn]

SPACE​

ENROUTE​

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HH-Blahblah, otherwise known as Fiver, sat inside the Juggernaut Turbo Tank affectionately known as "Bubba" and went through a pre-combat check. He flicked switches periodically as he did the weapons checks, but mostly he seemed to be engaged in talking.

"Can you believe these Gallys, Null? I mean, bad enough that they have to divert us off course from a week of leave, but now we get reports that they are attacking Hoth, aka the middle of buttkark nowhere, and we have to go defend the ice ball. I can't believe I'm going to have to freeze my nuts off to get a shot at them. Not to mention the fact that it's going to be a real pain to clean off all their guts frozen to the tires when we are done."

Flick. Flick. Red light. Green light. Power on. Power down.

"You know Hoth is melting? It's true. Bunch of hippie scientists down at Dosuun say the orbit around the star is degrading. You know what I think? Grab a few colonies of Umbaran women and put 'em on Hoth. That'll solve their ice problem."

[member="Null"] | [member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="Selene Sinclaire"]

 

[Mishel Kryze]

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[member="Samka Derith"] | [member="Ara Ren"] | [member="Brennan Cabrol"] | [member="Irajah Ven"] | [member="Alkor Centaris"]​

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Before the Alliance's Arrival​

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Mishel followed her master into the home somewhere not so far from Calrisian Plaza. Thus far she had been quite impressed by the splendour, it all seemed so beautiful and she wondered what life would have been like with her own parents. Her eyes were soft in awe and wonder she had stopped on the way to Samka's childhood home to pick at a few of the flowers. "These are lovely," she said to no one in particular, and then looked around and saw the small boy known as Brennan just out of the corner of her eye and rushed to catch up with the group. She barely knew of Brennan, as she hardly saw him and then, of course, Mishel supposed that was her own fault. She had not been at the Bastion enough to really meet him, but along with him and her master Samka. Sister Ara was here and ever since Skor II - she could feel something different about her, the light. Ara would not speak about it though even when the vat-grown Ren would ask.

As they entered the former abode, they were met with a mix of decay and stubbornness. Stubbornness as several features of regality still clung to life, while the rest of withered away and then Samka began to speak of her past. Mishel's ears seemed to perk, as she followed black boots with her own brown boots. She had come in simple clothing with just her lightsaber at her side. It saddened the teenager to hear of her master's mother and once more her own thoughts fluttered to her mother, Siobhan. Even if Riona had died, Riona's memories were still her own and she still held onto them. She still wondered if she would be accepted with open arms, and then the thought was interrupted by the petite purple-haired teenager's voice. And as the group continued on with their tour, Mishel looked down at the flowers in her hand and walked to the piano. Placing them there on top of the keys and as her hands hovered above them she thought about playing.

The Tygaran teenager decided against it and instead turned back toward the staircase. She peered up to see if her master was out of sight, busy entertaining Dr. Ven. Mishel took the opportunity to slip back out of the house. Back outside she headed for Calrisian Plaza with her hands behind her back. Alone with her own thoughts, she took in a deep breath and did her best to recall sessions with [member="Bethany Kismet"] and [member="Hazel Zanteres"]. Mishel's biology did not define her, nor should she let it. Still, the questions from Mustafar seemed to answer themselves. And yet, there was something about meeting Siobhan that felt desirable to her. Then her heart ached as she walked along the plaza as something tugged at her in that regard. Her feet crossed the way heading toward a street level rail that seemed to give a beautiful view of Cloud City.

Her nose tingled with sadness as she let her thoughts torment her. In her days of gathering crystals for lightsabers, Mishel recalled coming across something. Kerrigan's anti-First Order stance, anti-Sith stance and the death that would come their way. And her eyes watered, I know I have to go away... It was this piece of evidence that seemed to seal her fate. She was no different than any Sith in the eyes of her biological mother. So what did this make Mishel? A ghost. A motherless ghost. The teenager took another breath and exhaled, she pushed herself away from the railing and crossed the plaza with her back toward the luxury homes. All the times that I cried, keeping all the things I knew inside. It's so hard to ignore it all, and if they're right then I guess I agree. With a heavy heart, she walked wondering if Siobhan would afford her the opportunity to talk or if she was no different than the Sith. Am I just an abomination like Kyrel says? Am I just a monster waiting to be unleashed? All of these thoughts weighed on her as she pulled her robes tight against her chest and looked out over the plaza and headed toward the market of the plaza.

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-LX7WrHCaUA[/media]​

 

[Joy]

​

The shuttle transport hummed through space. No warriors filled its hold. No heroes of great renown. Just a med-evac shuttle in case the wounded needed to be moved, and fast. Abel sat inside the shuttle, a hand clutching his belly. He'd been assigned "protective" duty, which really meant he was just s'posed to help out the folk on the shuttle if they needed helpin'. Abel didn't expect they'd need too much from him.

He'd felt pretty useless over the past months. Recovery was a lot longer than he had expected. Not every day you got gored by a Terentatek and lived to tell the tale. Wasn't so much the actual goring part that did the most damage, though, but the beast's venom. Messed up his insides. The docs did what they could, but Abel's diet was not what it used to be. No spicy foods, for starters, which was a cryin' shame because he enjoyed spices on his meals. Not so fun eating out of a tube.

The young padawan sat on the bench, hands on his knees, just waitin'. He hoped they would not get attacked. Maybe that was cowardly? He wasn't sure. He just didn't think the First Order could be all bad. Maybe mostly bad. But... they wouldn't shoot an unarmed shuttle.

If they did, he was counting on the squadrons flying counterpart. There were a bunch of 'em. Including his friend [member="Loske Matson"]. She was in some new squadron they'd made: Wraith. Sounded cool. Abel wished he could be in Wraith too, but he wasn't a very good pilot. He'd been working on his saber skills, though, so maybe he wouldn't be totally useless this time around. It helped that he had also remembered to bring a real lightsaber this time, so Master Voidstalker wouldn't have to lecture him again about situational awareness.

[member="Asmus Janes"]

 

[Aran Piett]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=L53gjP-TtGE​

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----------------------------------------------------------------​

FIV Accuser​

Task Force 191​

Objective: Holding Overwatch over Cloud City​

----------------------------------------------------------------​

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Before the Alliance forces arrive​

​

Sitting in atmosphere of Bespin, the Accuser was a menacing sight. Escorting the Accuser was one Victory Mk II Frigate, and two Hammerhead corvettes, the small amount of Task Force 191 was just on their way back from a patrol from the Ison corridor. Shuttles were being sent to and from the vessels of the Task Force, resupplying. Things weren't supposed to be to crazy just a simple resupply. Aran was down in the hanger over looking the intake of personnel and supplies. Looking to his left he could see the members of Sabre Squadron doing some drills in the hanger, today was supposed to be low keyed, but Sabre Squadron didn't seem to take any low key days, or days off, but alas that is why they were considered special forces.​

​

Walking over to the drilling members of Sabre Squadron, looking for Sara.​

​

"Trooper where is Captain Jones?"​

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"Unknown sir, but will let her know you are looking for her."​

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"Good, thank you."​

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Walking back over to the podium that he setup to check all the inventory coming aboard.​

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[member="Sara Lee Jones"]​

 

[Ghorua the Shark]

LOCATION: Cloud City, Bespin, en route to Calrisian Plaza​

EQUIPMENT: IN BIO​

ALLIES: Galactic Alliance​

Enemies: First Order ([member="Samka Derith"])​

CURRENT OBJECTIVE: Hit something hard​

Mere minutes before a plethora of Galactic Alliance ships appeared over Bespin, an unassuming cargo vessel was cleared for landing.

Ghorua leaned back in his chair on the Whalebone, taking a break from the console as the green light was given for him to proceed. He had hired a slicer to create an identity for him and his ship, so he could infiltrate FO space with minimal eyes on him. As far as the Bespin flight officers knew, the Shark was Reuben Tyyr, a simple importer of fruits and vegetables. In actuality, he was packing a little more than meilooruns.

The impossibly-large Herglic wore a set of stark-white armor, and a series of bandoleers with an armory's worth of weapons. His helmet sat at his side, reflecting Ghorua's face. Ink-black skin, with glittering obsidian eyes, sharp teeth hidden behind taut lips, brooding. He didn't know what was to come, but he knew he most likely wouldn't like it all that much.

Ghorua the Shark had been hired by the Galactic Alliance to help take Bespin. This had been a surprising revelation to even him, as during their wars with the One Sith, he had fought against them on numerous occasions. Usually, the Bounty Hunter stayed far away from the wars and politics of the galaxy, content with hunting bounties and pursuing a fortune, but recent events had shaken him deeply. Deeply enough that he was returning to Bespin, a place that had granted him one of the worst experiences of his life, but had also cursed him with a friend.

A friend that would later be captured, twisted by a Sith Lord, and set free, changed beyond recognition.

Despite his past relations with the Galactic Alliance, he would not allow something like that to happen to his daughter.

Ghorua pushed thoughts of Kay Larr and Minna aside, tapping a few buttons on the console ahead of him. He had broken the atmosphere of the Gas Giant, but sensors indicated a large amount of ships approaching out of hyperspace.

The fleet had arrived.

Behind the Whalebone, a myriad of the finest pilots, tacticians, and generals the Alliance had to offer dropped out of hyperspace, and Ghorua couldn't help but smile. Ghorua's clearance would no doubt be denied, but his little distraction had given him all he would need to sneak into Cloud City undetected.

The cargo ship disappeared below a swirl of tibanna, fogging up sensors and disappearing from view.

The Shark was on the hunt.

 

[Zef Halo]

EN ROUTE TO HOTH​

HYPERSPACE​

[member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="Fiver"] | [member="Selene Sinclaire"]​

​

HH-something, also known as Null, watched as the light flickered from the terminal in front of him. Periodic checks were being done on the tank, checking if everything was working right. The gunner lost himself in the lights and engulfed into his usual trance of dreaming of his home in the country of Bakura while Fiver was ranting.

"Yeah, yeah." He nodded without knowing what he was nodding to than automatically added. "Kark 'em Gallys, bring the Umbaran women to Hoth, you bet that's gonn' be great." Null spat out an incoherent sentence as he was certainly not listening to what the kark Fiver was on about.

"Blow 'em up, I say. Steamroll through them karkin' jedi." Null nodded to himself as he kept on checking the gun's status. "Graush's gonna show 'em. Erase 'em all, yeah?"

Null was once again in his own world. He just wished he was home again but he had to fight for his country right? The Gallys had to be curbed before he went home, apparently.

 

[RIP Carlyle Rausgeber]

Objective: Hold the Line.
Allies: [member="Achim Veers"]
Enemies: [member="Cathul Thuku"] | [member="Alexandra Morrow"]

Nestled within the nebula, sat Battlegroup Imperator's answer to the Galactic Alliance's incursion into First Order space. Armed with the FIV Malice, and a compliment of anti starfighter and corvettes, Admiral Carlyle Rausgeber waited eagerly to spring the trap which had been set. Rausgeber stood watch on the bridge, vigilantly watching as the long range sensor beacons broadcast the Alliance's naval positions to his ship. It was an interesting exercise to say the least.

"Admiral, we have a status report." The Sensors Officer began, "We have possible Alliance contacts, the Indellian sensors have picked something up." Carlyle turned from the viewport, and looked down at the younger officer. He waited for the confirmation, his eyes narrowing. The whole bridge seemed to freeze up, all eyes peering down at the academy graduate lieutenant. All was silent for those fifteen seconds, until the Officer spoke again, "Confirmed Alliance contacts."

"Well, well," Carlyle began drily, "The dye is cast," He said with a small smirk pursing his lips. He paused, "Have they deployed fighters?" he asked, for the Admiral that was the most important part of the officer. The Galactic Alliance, in particular the doctrines employed by Therapy Command relied far too heavily upon their fighters as a wave to crash upon the hardened steel of First Imperial flak.
"No Admiral," The officer replied, "But they're attacking sir."

"Attacking what?" Carlyle asked, "Are there any ships which have broken formation?" Rausgeber asked, his voice was raised somewhat. If someone had spoiled the plan, lost their load too early, there would be hell to pay.

There was another tense pause, and the Scanning Officer seemed to somewhat freeze up, "Sir, I-I think the-they're attacking a line of ships, with evacuation transponders." The Officer reported. Carlyle's eyes widened, and the entire bridge of the Malice took a sharp intake of breath.

"Get me a data feed." Carlyle snapped, his voice as sharp as a whip.

"Admiral, the delay," The Comms Officer began, "We won't see everything live-!"

Carlyle shook his head, "Get me a feed, I need to see what's happening." Rausgeber growled, "I need to see it, with my own eyes." He snarled, eyeing the Comms Officer with a derisive glare. The officer did as commanded, and Carlyle moved away from the main bridge, to observe the proceeding attack from a holotable. The projector flickered before broadcasting the attack. The Admiral could not help but watch in horror as the slaughter unfolded. The Scanning Officer had been correct.

What probably looked like an aggressive manoeuvre from an overzealous local commander was being torn apart by the ANS Argent Dawn and her escorts' long range weaponry. Although not clear to an Alliance commander, the aged dagger-class corvettes, and picket ships were in fact an evacuation effort. A mercy mission. The convoy attacked predominantly held children and those with child who were being evacuated to safer territories within the Order's purview.

Carlyle felt his heart drop as he watched older corvette models, probably packed to the brim with scared civilians detonate as Alliance turbolasers tore through their ageing shields, and hulls. Of course Carlyle didn't know the truth. The FOSB had not revealed their plans to all those in the armed forces. That this was all a ruse. However the propaganda value of this was immeasurable, by any standard. Even if there had been a evacuation effort in full swing, it would have immediately been chewed up by Alliance batteries.

But nontheless, the admiral stood idly by as the older dagger models tried to retreat. Tried to turn back, but had their hulls shattered by the Galactic Alliance's fury. Carlyle almost felt himself gagging. This wasn't some war. This was a slaughter. One of the worst kinds. The crew watched in horror from their screens at the 'massacre' before their eyes. "Admiral," The Helmsman began, "Shall we move to engage?"
"I-I..." Carlyle was shocked. This wasn't right, something had gone wrong, there was no way the Alliance would willingly do that, would they? Was there any conceivable way they didn't know? Was this something wrong? Was this even the correct feed? Why attack a civilian convoy?

"Admiral, we need to respond!" One of the junior officers barked. Carlyle felt unusually cold now. Although it wasn't the deaths of tens of thousands, as one was accustomed to in the navy when an enemy flagship detonated. Burned into his head, he could imagine women, and children screaming before being sucked into the void. Rausgeber shivered at the thought.

"We can't attack! What of the ambush?!" A more senior officer snapped, "We must stick to the plan. That's what would be expected of us!" Carlyle's disgust slowly washed over him. This, this couldn't stand. This hypocrisy. This murder, by his hand. The Malice's CO was visibly shaking with anger as he glared at the holotable.

"Clearly the admiral isn't shock," The Chief Gunnery Officer chimed in. "We need to attack, show these karkers what justice feels like!" There was a hearty cheer accompanying the statement, but soon the bridge descended into argument.

"Move us to engage." The Commodore Antoin Constantine snapped, "We'll give the rest of the convoy a fighting chance." Carlyle didn't respond at first. He didn't comprehend the karkophany of noise until that statement there. His mind returned to the situation at hand. His mind went through the last few weeks, remembering the decimation of Fortan's FIST, the failures of Skor. His heart was telling him that he had to act. Had to attack. But his head, only thought of self-preservation. The idea, of being left to rot in an Avalonian square left the decision making easy.

"Belay that!" Carlyle snapped, "We hold position." The whole crew looked back at him, those for action starred at the man in disbelief, while those who waited for his judgement watched forlornly. Commodore Antoin was astonished. The man was a ball of fury, the anger radiating from him, palpable.

"Admiral, we can't let that stand." Constantine replied, his voice clearly breaking, the mans fists were clenched, and tears of fury welled in his eyes. "There may be more of them, there may be-"

"And there will be more of them if we don't hold our position." Carlyle corrected, "Right now, fleets across this sector are relying on us to blunt the Alliance's advance here if we don't do that, more will share their fate." His eyes glanced around the bridge, "I am in charge here, and we will not let this act of murder pass. But we need to wait for the opportune moment to avenge those lost." Rausgeber crossed the bridge and back to his position at the fore, watching the viewport, when he glanced out into the vastness of the nebula, he couldn't bare to look his reflection in the eye.

Spoiler

Battlegroup Imperator Make Up: ​

FIV Malice (Flagship) | Modified Resurgent-class Star Destroyer | Shields 100% | Hull 100% | Firing At: N/A
FIV Warrior | Bolt-ii Class Picket Corvette | Shields 100% | Hull 100% | Firing At: N/A
FIV Condemnation | Bolt-ii Class Picket Corvette | Shields 100% | Hull 100% | Firing At: N/A
FIV Rising Dawn | Bolt-ii Class Picket Corvette | Shields 100% | Hull 100% | Firing At: N/A
FIV Colossus | Bolt-ii Class Picket Corvette | Shields 100% | Hull 100% | Firing At: N/A
FIV Law | Empire-class Heavy Frigate | Shields 100% | Hull 100% | Firing at: N/A
FIV Master | Mukhtiar-anti fighter corvettehttp://starwarsrp.net/topic/104812-mukhtiar-class-anti-starfighter-corvette/#entry1510794 | Shields 100% | Hull 100% | Firing At: N/A
FIV Defender | Mukhtiar-anti fighter corvette | Shields 100% | Hull 1oo% | Firing at: N/A

 

[Simon St. Claire]

En Route to Hoth

Space​

[member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="Fiver"] | [member="Null"]​

[SIZE=10.5pt]Her brow wrinkled in concentration, Officer Selene Sinclair evaluated her squad's orders. She had already read them over multiple times, but her mind was a haze. Command had alerted her to the mission mere minutes after she lay down to sleep. It had been her first encounter with a bed in 36 hours, and she was now heading into hour 53 with no signs of a break on the horizon. Taking a sip of her third coffee of the hour, Selene skimmed the orders once more, and then turned toward the others in the tank.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]“Look sharp, boys. We’ll be arriving on Hoth shortly, and I don’t want any of you caught with your pants down. We’ll melt a good bit of the landscape ourselves by the time we finish up our mission, so you better hope the ice is strong enough to hold the extra weight you likely put on during your leave.”[/SIZE]

[SIZE=10.5pt]Their orders gave an indeterminate timeframe, so the lord only knew how long they’d all be rolling around inside Bubba. Their last such mission had lasted a month, and they had all been forced to go without showers. She hoped this wouldn’t end the same way; her nose and uniform would never recover.[/SIZE]

 

[Connor Harrison]

Location: Galactic Alliance Prison
Allies: None
Enemies: None

No sign of a transfer into the...fifth or sixth day was it? Time didn't exist down here bar for the timing of the three meals a day. All Connor Harrison had for company was himself, his thoughts, the dull light above his bunk and washer, and the glow of the lava in the panes outside.

Not much sign of anything, really.

The first meal came, which meant it was breakfast and perhaps early on. Connor stayed laying down as the soldier came down the lift, passed through the de-activated cell shield to leave the tray. A drink of juice and what looked like some creamy porridge. The soldier seemed to hang around.

"Any news?

He could have sworn the solider game a small smirk by the tone of her voice.

"You can hear it from me first. The First Order is going to bear witness to what happens when you push a force as big as the Galactic Alliance too far."

Connor didn't look.

"Your holds on Hoth and Bespin will soon be ours. The invasion has begun. Your time here is sure to be extended, for when the First Order falls, they will care not for you."

With that, the Ren glanced over and looked at the girl.

"The First Order will repel the Alliance at all costs. They will take the battle, and then they will come for me. Your over-confidence is your weakness."

The soldier scoffed and stepped back, activated the shield and closing him away once more.

"Your faith in your friends is yours."

And with that, she stepped into the lift with a confident smile, and left him alone.

Connor rolled over and sat on the bunk, playing with his fingers. There was nothing he could do, for anyone. Going after the experience at Skor, maybe it wasn't a bad thing. He closed his eyes to extend his feelings and the Force, but it was still closed off. The bond he had once shared with [member="Ara Ren"] now vanished. Nothing to signify her pain, or her success. She was either dead, or she had closed him off forever. Perhaps the First Order had closed him off forever.

Sighing, he stood and looked up to the glow of the lava.

Time ticked on, the seconds rolled into minutes, and minutes into hours.

He never touched the porridge.

 

[H3xle]

LOCATION: Hoth (Dropping in)
OBJECTIVE: Wreck the FO's stuff
ALLIES: [member="aver brand"], [member="siobhan kerrigan"], Galactic Alliance, Freedom
ENEMIES: [member="chron terix"], [member="tk-4261 strain"], [member="shaydae desmaris"], First Order, Fascism
GEAR: In my Sig

Tomas could have slept in his armor on the way to the dropzone. If he spent the time trying to remember, he could probably come up with half a dozen or so times when he had, but that'd require focusing on something other than the mission. He wasn't worried, he was just in his element. He'd checked the status of his armor and weapons, and now all he had to do was wait for the floor to drop out beneath him.

Then the fun begins.

He had a few of his fellow marines here, but as this was more of a surgical strike than a tactical over run, he didn't bring all of them. Hammers like him and his marines hit things hard and kept going. Using them surgically required small numbers and a fast entry.

The red light in the hold where the soldiers and agents were waiting turned from red to amber. A similar light on his HUD made the same change. Tomas grinned and took a few deep breaths. The typical pit formed in his stomach as he prepped to be dropped in at high speed. No matter how many times he did combat drops, it still excited him and caused a mild fear reaction. Adrenaline pumping into the blood. His nostrils flared as he took in more deep breaths.

"First one to topple a walker gets a lap dance from Karauck." Tomas said over the shared frequency. Tapping the Kar'zun with the back of his hand.

"I assure you, that is not the case..." The rocky warrior said from within his armor.

Tomas grinned and took more deep breaths, then sealed his armor.

The amber light in the hold switched to green at the same time as the light in his HUD, and the floor opened up.

Tomas fell into air, and oriented himself quickly to be pointing butt down. He'd let the jetpack slow his descent as needed, he was focused on gunning already. He primed his main weapon and took aim at the walker directly below him. He depressed the trigger. The first round thumped out with enough bass to rattle his chest. A second later, another one would fire out, aimed at the neck joint of the walker beneath him as he came blazing out of the sky on a pillar of fire.

 

[Siobhan Kerrigan]

Location: Hoth atmo (dropping in)
Objective: Smite
Allies: [member="Aver Brand"], [member="Tomas Yarrow"], GA, Firemane
Enemies: [member="Chron Terix"], [member="TK-4261 Strain"], [member="Shaydae Desmaris"], FO, Fascism.


Remember Kaeshana. It was time for retribution. Eye for an eye, tooth for a tooth. The Galactic Alliance was going on the offensive, and the Order of Fire, Firemane and the Eldorai had joined them in their crusade. Siobhan Kerrigan had come herself. No better way to make an entrance than by raining down from the sky like a literal wrecking ball. The beskar shell of her Imperatrix Armour, fully sealed, encased her body.


Her eyes swept across the strike team that accompanied her: Power armoured marines, Firemane, Eldorai and GA Specops, SIS and general heavy hitters ready to wreck things. As a light in her helmet's HUD signified that the drop was imminent, Siobhan reflected upon the fact that in her long, bloodstained military career, she'd never performed an atmo drop till today. This was probably the moment for a cheesy joke about there being a first time for everything. She primed her shatterbolter, charging the weapon up. Her hard-sound carbine was magclamped to her thigh, her sidearms and explosives were likewise ready, along with her sabre.


The light switched from amber to green, the ship opened up beneath them, and Siobhan leapt into the air, orientating herself quickly. Beneath her lay the sheer endless snowland of Hoth. Soon the white snow would be stained with blood. Her armour's jet systems slowed her fall, the wind whipped around her, but she maintained her balance and took aim with her weapon.


The love-child of a bolter and a shattergun, the shatterbolter was a railgun that propelled its ammunition at high enough velocity to penetrate heavy tank armour. Strength enhanced by the Force let her wield the weapon in this position and absorb the recoil. She squeezed the trigger and fired a solid slug, shooting towards the neck of the enemy walker Yarrow had been targeting with his weapon. As she descended downward from the heavens, a wave of pure telekinetic energy rippled from her towards the enemy.

 

[Ria Misrani]

​

"None so far," Ranulph told [member="Audrey Saint George"] softly. Before him were the lines of civilians, and his heart sank a moment because all he saw were terrified men, women and children who did not know what was going to happen. Infants in their mothers arms crying, and wailing unsure of what was happening. One minute families were enjoying a day in the city and the next the air sirens blasted throughout the city. Sure there had been drills before but nothing so certain. The officer then turned to his three go-to men,"Dmitri, get this line, Strovenko over there and Grant make sure the school children and their teachers are safe, got it?" Each one saluted and got down toward the lines joining a platoon of defense guards as they worked to get people into shelters and bunkers throughout the city.

The lieutenant faced Dr. Saint George, "just a lot of scared people, how are we with the museum?"

And then looked over the plaza once more and was once more glad that the helmet he wore concealed his features. A grimace and then a stern look, if the Alliance were here to liberate them - they needn't bother. What they failed to realise is that not everyone wanted to it and many were quite happy here with the Imperial nation. As he turned again to face the doctor, his eyes caught something and without hesitation, he rushed toward a moving object. Upon approach, Ranulph noticed it as a young pup, "hello you, who do you belong to?" White plastoid armoured arms scooped the small black and tan creature into his arms, "hello, hello, hello c'mon surely someone's missing you."

"There you are, Bennie!" A young boy rushed toward the officer holding the pup, "you found her, thank the Balance, thank you so much."

"I did, keep her close alright?" Ranulph handed the puppy to her owner.

The young boy nodded and then rushed back to his family holding the puppy in his arms as he did so.

Ranulph looked over at the three men and then whistled for a few more of his platoon. "C'mon we've got to speed this up, let's get into the evac lines. Nice and easy, we'll get everyone to safety, c'mon." He motioned with his hands bringing in more troopers to assist as they prepared other bunkers to receive civilians.

[member="Rhia Novatinsky"]​

 

[Samka Derith]

[SIZE=11pt]Location: Home, Cloud City - Near Calrissian Plaza[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Allies: [member="Irajah Ven"] - [member="Mishel Ren"] - [member="Ara Ren"] - [member="Brennan Cabrol"] - [member="Alkor Centaris"] - The First Order
Enemies: [member="Ghorua the Shark"] - The Galactic Alliance [/SIZE]


Sam matched Irajah’s gaze, the face of the doctor was unreadable. At least unreadable was an improvement over the seething anger. At this point, Samka couldn’t reasonably expect anything more. To completely trust the teenager once more at this point would be nothing short of monumental naivety so she contented herself with an empathetic nod at the elder woman, nothing more needed to be said right now.

[SIZE=11pt]They passed another piece of furniture in the hallway leading to Samka’s room, a small rugged green sofa torn in one spot. “I used to bounce on that,” Sam kept the stories going, “again, when no one was watching obviously. Until I broke one of the legs,” Sam reached out to give the sofa a small nudge. It wobbled a little precariously. “I see they never did fix it completely, this was always decorative. But anyway, Father was most displeased. It was the first time he smacked me himself instead of using the serving droid to do so.” Absentmindedly, Sam reached out to stroke her cheek as she remembered the searing pain from the blow but stopped herself half-way through. “Moving on,” she said firmly and spun on her heels just a little too quickly, the tiny bits of evidence that returning to this place starting to affect her.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“This was my room,” she said opening the door to an expansive room covered with shelves of outdated holos. Their titles would tell anyone that they covered history, important cultural literature, poetry, musical sheets, science and the art of commerce. Missing were any trace of the typical holos children would keep for entertainment. The only evidence that this was a child’s room was that the bed in the corner had covers of a princess from a popular children’s holo-movie. That and a small plush toy at the end of the bed. In the opposite corner was a small epee, a fencing sword, which had fallen from its holster, a blatant hint to the origins of her bladework.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]But something else had caught her eye. There was much in this room she could have spoken about in detail but it was the plush toy which she was drawn to first. Sam picked it up, taking a moment to stare at it. She’d forgotten about its existence until now. “Hmm,” she murmured staring into the beaded eyes of a fluffy blue Narglatch, the beast’s more vicious features toned down into a kid-friendly smile. “This is Narl,” she said slowly, faintly registering how uncreative she had been with her names in childhood. “My best friend for most of my life. I… talked to him more than anyone else in this house,” Sam said as she passed the toy over to Irajah. What response she expected the doctor to have to the dusty plush, Sam wasn’t sure but it was becoming oddly liberating to share.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Her gaze turned to the window. There was another friend she had. A Zeltron girl, the one person she had felt relaxed around, the one person she could say that she had ever [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]loved[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]. Sam remembered the day her friend had appeared at the window right here, having made a droid fly a speeder up. A cheeky smile behind a mess of blue hair. Sam reached up to stroke a braid of her own hair, dyed blue. A final memento.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“We’ve got company, Galactic Alliance is en-route.” The voice of Brennan Cabrol shook her from her thoughts. Just in time, this little trip was doing more than she expected. Sam thought this past was dead and buried, a tool to use to bring Irajah Ven onto her side. Apparently not. The news she received was less welcome however.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Outside her window, the distinctive sight of Cloud Cars soared through the sky, the Bespin Wing Guard scrambling to action. Samka Derith turned to the others, resuming her moniker as Master of Ren. Immediately she noticed one of their number was missing. Mishel had, once again, disappeared. She gritted her teeth in irritation, no more. She was done running after the teenager to clear up her mess. Not this time. This time, she had someone else she owed a duty of protection to.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Her eyes drifted back to Doctor Irajah Ven. From what she heard, the woman had been in combat zones before but that was not the same thing as fighting. Sam had brought the doctor here, it seemed only right that she ensure the elder woman’s safety.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“You’re not safe here,” she told Irajah, her voice rising in urgency. “These brutes have no regard for the safety of civilians. If anywhere is doing evacuations, it’ll be the main Plaza. Let’s move,” she said with a small snarl.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Nodding to Brennan and Ara as a gesture for the pair to stay close, she set a determined walk to lead the group towards Calrissian Plaza. This was her home and nobody was going to take it from her. Under the watchful eye of Irajah, Samka wasn’t sure how far she could push but once they were separated, death would be too merciful for her foes.[/SIZE]

 

[RC 212]

3rd Imperial Infantry
1st Battalion, Spade Company- (100% Strength- Will downgrade as we go.)
Objective: Hold the Line for Reinforcements to arrive.
Enemies: [member="Aver Brand"], [member="Tomas Yarrow"], GA, Firemane, [member="Naomi Carolina"], [member="Sol Stazi"]
Allies: [member="Chron Terix"], @TK-4261 Strain, [member="Shaydae Desmaris"], [member="Fiver"], [member="Null"], [member=Selene Sinclaire"], FO


On the battle line, left of the main outpost TK was watching through his HUD as the carnage unfolded. The Armor units had placed their line several thousand meters off of the trench line. His men were freezing their nuts off, trembling like leaves and he felt the familiar pin and needles feeling of the cold snipping at his fingers.

Explosions continued to rip the air, scattering razor sharp white hot shrapnel in all directions like a profane fireworks show. every time a gun boomed TK felt like a thousand bass drums were going off and someone was hitting him in the chest with a sledge hammer.

"We got contact sir! A thousand meters and closing! One ... no two walkers KIA."

TK nodded, laying his rifle against the top of the trench and hauling himself up to the ledge. Then he pivoted and ripped off his helmet, placing in a huge dip. The men looked up, faces hidden by their helmets, but TK was sure they were scared. No real warrior went into battle without some kind of fear, and once you ceased to fear, you were too cocky. You died.

"Alright men listen up!" TK boomed.

"Those Rebel Scum are going to try and hit our lines and hit them hard. This is the last line of defense. This is the line in the snow that we hold. We own this ground, it's ours. No Rebel swill is going to take from us until the last blaster bolt goes into the last Stormtrooper. "

Tk spit a huge brown wad, heavy brows sinking down, wrinkled jowls of his fifty year old face tightening with his jaw in a familiar rage.

"Who are we men?"

"3rd Imperial Infantry!"

"Sound off! Who are we men!"

"THIRD IMPERIAL INFANTRY!"

"IF YOUR COLD MEN, GRAB YOUR GUTS AND SHOULDER YOUR RFILES! SPRING IS COMING ON HOTH, AND WE'RE GONNA MELT THIS ICY ROCK WITH WARM REBEL BLOOD!"

"AAAAAAAHHHHHHHHH"!

The thunderous cries rang out across the field and TK jumped back down, old bones aching.

Staff Sergeant Ricks was there chuckling.

"Pretty good for an officer sir."

"Watch your tongue pup, this old officer can still put you in the ground."

"Drink?"

Ricks offered up a small flask.

"Before a battle? If I thought I was gonna make it out of this crap I might scold you son, but kark it. Give it here."

They stood silent side by side for a moment as drop pods smashed into the fields before them an explosions ripped through walkers. So far they were covered, but Tk guessed they had about ten to twenty minutes of screening from the walkers before they hit the line. He handed the flask back to Ricky and nodded, spitting his dip out and ramming his helmet on.

"Alright men, here they come. Game faces! Heavy weapons spread out! Plex launchers load rockets. At five hundred meters all E-Webs light 'em up. Hold the rockets in reserve, engage at two hundred meters. RTO!"

"Sir!"

"Call the Opcen, tell 'em we are five mikes from contact. Request all available units in the Outpost to the trench line."

"Aye Sir. We have a Ship on the way as well Sir."

"Even better. Link my personal channel to the Commander."

"Linking now Sir."

"Attention All First Order Forces this is TK-4261 Captain Strain. We have eyes on the enemy. Ten drop pods, a thousand meters out. Company element moving in on mechs. Request support by fire from any Naval assets in the area, how copy?"

He clicked it off.

"Ricks, get that laser targeting beacon out. Get ready to paint a target."

 

[Leos Palle]

​

Allies: [member="Vilin"]
Enemies: [member="Aran Piett"]
Objective: Secure Bespin Space, Do A Little Dance, Make A Little Love, Get Down Tonight
Fleet:

Spoiler

Trimiran Star Defender ANS Temperance
Horn-class Escort Cruiser ANS Stormhawk
Nebulon B7 Escort Frigate ANS Vitality
Telum-class Frigate ANS Nest

Hyperspace was always the most boring part of going anywhere. It was a stupor inducing white-blue swirl of cosmic whatever that made him feel like he was going to go into some sort of trance he'd never be able to get himself back out of. He'd rather be getting punched in the face, to be honest. For this reason, he always spiced things up.

"Sir, I'm not sure this follows protocol," a lieutenant said, eyes turned up towards the apple sitting atop his head.

"Who said anything about protocol?" Raze asked, aiming his pistol at the mans head. "On my ship, we do what I want."

A squeeze of the trigger sent a charric blast out to slam into the apple, perfectly mind you, and splatter it across the way. There was a chorus of groans from a few people who caught the apple sauce to the face, but in general the other side of the room was laughing. On top of this, there was music playing in the background. Yes, they were going into a live fire engagement with music playing. Raze was a firm believer that music helped people to focus more on their task at hand and less on the fact that they could be killed at a moments notice if the enemy happened to be halfway decent. He was also a firm believer in doing anything that would get the other Admirals in a tizzy, and playing music on the bridge was a good way to do that.

The Viperous wasn't far away from them. The two small forces were destined for Bespin space, breaching through the defensive corridor that had been set for them at Ison. By this time it was likely the enemy had detected the incursion of forces there and was redirecting ships to intercept. This left Bespin ripe for the taking. Imagine their surprise when an MC80 and a Star Defender drop out of hyperspace on them! Delicious! And oh how he wanted to kill the First Order ships that might be in orbit around the world. It would be sweet justice for the pirate fleet he'd lost to their forces in the past.

"Reversion in five!"

"Finally!" he sat up in his chair and holstered his blaster, and then he waited until Bespin loomed before them. "Alright. Shields up, weapons primed. Lets get those dropships and their troops going down to mess with the flunkies on the ground. Fighter escorts from the Nest to cover them. Assign all of the OS-G2's to escort duty. The rest of her fighters should remain at her rear until we enter engagement."

"Relaying."

"Tell the Stormhawk to keep her fighters held in reserve. The Vitality should keep hers to her rear as well. Deploy our A-wings to our rear."

"Copy."

The Alliance fleet formed with the Temperance at its head, Stormhawk to its port, and the Vitality and Nest to its starboard. They would match movements with the Viperous for now, until they could accurately determine the size of the enemy force present. Though he was anxious to go and pillage, to the point he'd stood up from his seat and was standing with his hands on his hips and eye squinted at the planet, he wasn't about to go rushing in and get his forces killed. Losing one group of people that looked up to him was bad enough. He didn't particularly feel like losing more. Though he did feel like loosing weapons upon people. And pillaging their women, but that could wait too.

All in due time.

 

[Taeli Raaf]

​

Location: Stealth U-Wing​

Objective: Listen to a rousing speech​

Allies: [member="Gabriel Sionoma"] [member="Loske Matson"] [member="Abel"] [member="Shamira_Karuto"]​

Enemies: [member="Ara Ren"] [member="Samka Derith"] [member="Mishel Ren"] [member="Brennan Cabrol"]​

​

Equipment: In signature​

Directly Engaging: No one yet​

“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.”

Taeli finally opened her eyes as Gabriel made his speech, keeping her attention on the man that anyone would be fooled into thinking he was someone else. It was a good speech all in all, very motivational. She wasn't sure why she volunteered to go in on the U-Wing excursion while the main task force attacked... oh wait she did know. The mission was more interesting, and what wouldn't be more satisfying than stealing Cloud City, and thus Bespin, out from right underneath the First Order.

She checked to make sure her lightsabers were still in full operation, and double checked to make sure her shoto blade was in its concealed sheath. The others had blasters and stealth gear with them, but she had refrained from bringing any of that stuff with her. Call her old fashioned, but she was fine with just having her lightsabers and the Force to call on. Well that, and her robes and armor, but battle zones typically required such.

Only a little longer now, she thought, watching the time to reversion tick away and... she felt the shudder of reversion and their pilot moving them towards the operation zone. Soon... it was time to go to work.

 

[Alleycat]

Location: FIS Kuragin - Hangar Bay​

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

[member="Jasper Daggett"] [member="Ishana Pavanos"] [member="Nils Brenner"] [member="Pierce Fortan III"]​

Enemies: GA​

TBD​

___​

​

​

"Gotcha!" Gee grinned wildly showing off her pearly whites against the Riflorian's caramel brown skin as her fingers grabbed the illusive popped kernel of corn that had wedged itself down deep within her bosom inside her open flight suit.

Sea green eyes twinkled as Jianna's dark head of curls nodded an affirmative to the CO. "Right behind you, Cap'n," the 'Rook' answered, popping the renegade piece of popcorn into her mouth, then grabbing her pilot side arm on the way out. What... Can't be wasteful now?!

The corridors of the Galidraan-class space station were chaotic yet orderly. It was the way of the First Order. Security were out in force directing where civilians should go and making holes for the TIE pilots scrambling to their fighters in the hangar bay as well as setting up their defenses if the station should be breached. Curls nearly ran head on into a masked swirl of massive darkness with a flowing robe billowing about, a Knight of Red most likely, as she zipped up her black flight suit.

"Oops, sorry," she offered with an apologetic smile thrown over her shoulder after they'd passed each other unharmed thanks to fast reflexes and quick thinking as if flying her craft to avoid a collision.

Entering the hangar, the squadron's new birds were ready to go. One of their own was already on the flight line. The young flight officer knew nothing of the much older pilot other than his callsign was Talon and held the rank of Major. The salt-n-pepper officer so far had kept to himself during the Strikers' posting at the station.

Upon walking up to the catwalk to her assigned TIE Raptor docked in the fighter rack, a hangar tech handed her the life support vest. She slipped it on over the flight suit already worn, then the gauntlet gloves were donned followed by the TIE pilot helmet. She quickly connected the hose from the life support box to the helmet's port therefore sealing the environmental suit. In all it only took a matter of seconds to do, but it seemed like forever. Stepping over to the open top hatch of the spherical cockpit, Jianna descended the ladder in a well-practiced manner, then dropped down into the pilot couch, immediately strapping herself in like second nature while gloved fingers began initiating the controls, weapon systems and twin ion engines of the FO's elite fighter.

A thumbs up was given to the tech up top to close and secure the TIE's hatch, then Curls keyed the squadron's frequency before Savage could ask for a status report as flight lead.

:: Striker Two green to go. ::

 

[HK-36]

Aboard transport ship in Hoth Orbit,

While this writer was busy attending convention and could not fully commit to the story just yet, HK was moving through the hangar of a transport him he commandeered for the purpose of assault on Hoth. This was going to be the first time he deployed a larger army on the battlefield since Mustafar and the subsequent modernization and reforming of his drone soldiers and the droids who served alongside him. So the droid inspected the ranks of mechanical and organic soldiers who were going to touch down on the planet soon enough with him, the phalanxes of drone infantry, swarms of squid buzz drones, groups of droideka-like scorpion drones, large repulsorlift carrier drones to carry and protect them, giant tank walker spider drones to challenge Imperial walkers with their mass driver cannons, and squads of Iron Company commandos, both sentient droids and organics of various species mixed together, and probably other models as well that this writer cannot remember while dealing with his hang over.

Either way, HK strolled among their ranks, looking over the machines and organics gathered for him in preparation for assault on Hoth, nodding as he moved, clad in his suit of organic looking biot armor and chameleon cloak over the Phrik combat body.

"We are ready."

The droid announced to himself before turning about and motioning towards the dropships,

"Board the transports and we shall head to the surface of Hoth! The Imperials will know that retribution has come to them for the deeds they have done, remember Kaeshana and the burning corpses on crosses, remember the oppression and horror that happened afterwards, remember Skor when their negotiations included gassing Squib natives and glassing portion of their capital, and remember Eriadu and how quickly they turned to orbital bombardment like children throwing a tantrum! Remember the injustices as you strangle life from these snakes!"

There was much excitement as soldiers shuffled off onto the transports, loading up their forces and their gear before the ships would begin pushing off from the hangar out into the void of space, heading out towards the icy planet below.

"Our destination is Echo Base, put us down outside of it out of their anti-air battery range."

"Yessir."

HK informed the pilot as the dropships begun to rock against the friction of the atmosphere.


The droid just hopped [member="Connor Harrison"] ate that porridge he spend hours making.

 

[Natasi Fortan]

[member="Ishana Pavanos"] | [member="Nils Brenner"] | [member="Jasper Daggett"] | [member="Jianna Raas"]​

As he entered the hangar with the rest of the pilots, Pierce wasn't sure he liked the TIE/R "Raptor".

He liked to think of himself as a "low maintenance" kind of fellow. Beneath the vanity spectacles, the expensive cigarettes, the caviar, the titles, and the money, he was a simple sort. Give him a singular pod strung between two twin ion engine panels and he was home. The Raptor, on the other hand, looked almost baroque in comparison. Its four wings, set at ninety degree angles around the central pod, gave it an alien sort of look. It almost looked like a more streamlined version of the Chiss Clawcraft, if Pierce's memory served. Whatever his complaints about

Pierce's ruminations were interrupted as they were greeted by Major Daggett. He snapped a smart salute to the Major in greeting as he passed.

He and Ishana were paired; just the way he liked it. Nils was mentoring the new girl -- Curls, he noted -- and other than Brenner, Pavanos had been with Pierce and Colonel von Brinkerhoff longer than anyone still with the 181st. Though the old man -- Stash One -- was long retired, the bonds forged between the pilots was nothing to sneer at. "It's you and me, honeybunch," Pierce said to Ishana as he completed fastening his flight suit. "And for the record, I've always thought you were a good pilot. Not as good as, say, me," he added with a mischievous smirk. "But not everyone can be Pierce Fortan III."

He picked up his flask from his ready station, gave it an experimental shake. Full! He crossed over to [member="Ishana Pavanos"] and held it out to her. "For after," he said. It was an old ritual that Pierce had -- giving he and his friends something for which to live through the coming battles. "Since, you know, I'm going to own all your drink rations for the next month." He winked and took off his spectacles, tucking them into a case. Pierce climbed into his ship and opened the channel once his pre-flight checklist was completed.

:: Striker Three, board is green. :: Pierce reported.

 

[Kuzo]

​

Location: The Home of [member="Samka Derith"], Cloud City, enroute to Calrissian Plaza​

In scene: [member="Brennan Cabrol"] [member="Ara Ren"]​

Nearby: [member="Alkor Centaris"] [member="Mishel Ren"]​

Persons of Interest: [member="Ghorua the Shark"]​

In Bound/On Bespin: [member="Ranulph Tarkin"] [member="Audrey Saint George"] [member="Rhia Novatinsky"] [member="Ignatius Rausgeber"] [member="Taeli Raaf"] [member="Gabriel Sionoma"] [member="Abel"] [member="Shamira_Karuto"] [member="Jorg"] [member="Chloe Blake"] [member="Kaili Talith"] [member="Elliot Locke"] [member="Canal"] [member="Makai Dashiell"] [member="Asmus Janes"] [member="Adder"] [member="Loske Matson"] [member="Rekha Kaarde"] (If you are at Bespin and I missed you, apologies! From here on out I will focus on tagging in my direct scene but if you wish to continue to receive tags anyway, just tag me back and I'll keep you in!)​

Objective: Give Sam a Chance​

​

Their childhoods couldn't have been more different. Irajah's parents had been loving, not only to each other but to their only daughter. They had not been wealthy, but comfortable. Alternating between appropriately stern, understanding and affectionate, the memories of her own childhood, despite the veneer of lies she had discovered only recently, were good ones. Complicated now by the knowledge that so much of it had been deception.

Just one more in a long line, it seemed.

And yet, she still looked at those memories, the times with her parents, with nostalgia and fondness. Complicated emotions of course, but if she could have, she would have those times back in a heartbeat. So it was difficult to not sympathize with the teenage Ren- and allow these wrenching memories to feed into the desire for Samka to be the person that Irajah thought she had been. So many reasons to become something else, something dark- and maybe that was all that was left? But there was hope. If someone could rise above the heartache of their own childhood, there was hope.

The question was simply (never simple) was that the truth of Samka Derith, Master of the Knights of Ren?

While Raj mulled over the conflicting emotions and wishful thinking in her own mind, something else, far larger, was approaching.

[SIZE=11pt]“We’ve got company, Galactic Alliance is en-route.” [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]“You’re not safe here. These brutes have no regard for the safety of civilians. If anywhere is doing evacuations, it’ll be the main Plaza. Let’s move,” Samka said with a small snarl.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]​"I've been on the ground with the Alliance before," [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Irajah said softly. But she also didn't argue. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]​Since Mustafar, she had walked a certain path, one that had brought her knowledge, yes, but that had also weakened her physical body to almost the breaking point. The virus that curled inside of her grasped and clawed, bringing exhaustion and pain. The decision to study with [member="Ashin Karrde"] had been worth it, she knew. But it had come at a cost. Taking the focus off of keeping Gideon contained in order to learn other techniques within the Force had been a deliberate decision. One that she lived with the consequences of every day. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]​She had said nothing of this to Samka, but the girl had been with her for months as Cassidy. It was impossible that she didn't know something was physically wrong with Doctor Ven. Every month the dark circles beneath her eyes growing deeper, what little skin she allowed to show growing paler. Tiring more easily, needing to rest more often. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]​The Ren closed in around her, Samka in front, Brennan to her right, Ara taking up the rear. There was no sign of Mishel. But with the feeling and weight of anticipation and slowly fracturing stress in the air around them, there was little time to worry. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]​The four made their way back down the stairs, Irajah glancing back up for a moment at the small, green sofa on the landing. A slight furrow of her brow, and she turned forward again as the group hurried out of the abandoned mansion and into the streets of Cloud City. [/SIZE]