Sovereignty among an Imperial Ember; Imperial Confederation Dominion of Nyeon

[Kier Grey]

Vetka Hal
Asteriod 77 The Golden City, Gravity Tether Tower #1
Objective: #3 Winter Comes to Falter Spring
Tags: [member="Varian Alaric"], [member="Cynthia Alucard"], @Arx Landi
Nearby: [member="Kraken Society"], [member="Marriskcal Lati"], [member="Seto Du Couteau"]

"Atropos, this is Arkanian-One. Situation dire, recommend that you advise the local government to begin Civil evacuations." Vetka breathed through clenched pink-stained teeth, even augmented the wounds that wept through armour and bodysuit were slowing her down considerably and the hope she might have prevented an impending tragedy were being steadily dampened. Vetka was ostensibly a "Private Security Consultant" working on behalf of the Security Bureau which was a fancier way of saying she acted as a mercenary. "There is an impending risk that the Winter Revolution will destabilise Asteroid Seventy-Seven's gravity tethers and cause its' orbit to collide with another habitat."

The turbolift stopped and it's doors opened to reveal a circular rotunda, Vetka stepped into it only to twist and narrowly duck beneath a sizzling blade that passes over her helmeted head with the space of an envelope to spare. Joaquin's weapon slices the stock off her G-12A Blaster Rifle which sat on a magnetic strip on the rear of cuirass, the augmented Superhuman was sluggish from her multitude of injuries their pearl-white Darksabre armour stained with scarlet streaks. In such close-quarters she didn't have the time not space to draw a weapon, so both hands curled into fists and without her heart-rate increasing from sixty beats per minute began to cannon her knuckles into Joaquin's ruby-coloured armour.

Vetka's movements told of inhibiting injury and yet despite this her movements maintained an astonishing semblance of fluidity and power. Crimson sheeted from her nostrils and oozed out of ears. Amur fully uncoiled now, his dutiful host's life at risk. "We'll have your heart in our hands before this is done!" Amur and Vetka snarled together in a singular voice through the annunciator, damaged distorter gave the tone and pitch a decidedly demonic quality. Joaquin's blade cut into his foe's body several times but her advance didn't cease and forced a retreat towards a crystal-clear glass panel which unknown to both Vetka and Joaquin Lati aimed through with her weapon looking to give the Coruscant Security Officer posing as an ISB Mercenary a helping hand. A shot whistled through the air and impacted the rear of Joaquin's Nanocuirass and while it might not have pierced that tough hide it presented an opportunity for Vetka to wrap her arms around Joaquin's waist in a crushing grip and heft his armour high into the air, locking the man's limbs against his ironform.

Stands of electricity crackled and snapped across Vetka's metal skin her brass visor stared angrily up towards him as the Individual Field Disruptor shrieked loudly conducting lethal amounts of voltage and current straight into Joaquin and the accessories stored within his clothes. "You, die!" Amur whistled the demand through Vetka's tightly clenched teeth. The molecules and atoms within the air around the intertwined pair electrified in a deafening draconic shriek swirling in a brilliant azure quantum vortex her own Deflector Shields warned loudly of their drain notices flashed wildly across her helmet-mounted display which fuzzed. Vet's own exposed skin through the bodysuit burned horribly, though she did not experience any pain from her sensory nerves. With Joaquin hefted into the Air Vetka took several slow steady steps towards a glass pane.

Vet bashed Joaquin against it in a brutal thrust prompting a pained cry that threatened to break entirely. "We'll continue this fight in the dark depths of Hell where the ice and snowflakes of winter welt and fade just like your forlorn cause!" Amur cackled before thrusting his feebly struggling victim clear of the Gravity Tether Tower down into the streets obscured beneath a dark shroud hundreds of feet below. Vetka collapsed down onto one knee and took several laboured breaths steadily regaining control from Amur who began to coil up back into its' slumber.

 

[Huxy]

Arx Landi, Nyeon Naval Officer
Location: Naval Headquarters, Pilot Training Center
Objective: I
Status: Surprised
Attire: Nyeon Officer Uniform
| [member="Cynthia Alucard"] |
~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~

Arx watched the woman as she spoke, reading her body signs and motions and mannerisms. He could tell that she was nervous, through no fault of her own that is. The blonde-haired woman was doing her best to mask her nerves at meeting him, though the male had seen it all before. He learned how to read people through both his own intuition and through the force throughout his time among the Sith. Although he never learned anything related to the combat, force-power wise, he delved a great deal into the art of sensing emotions and auras and perception. It wasn't that he couldn't fight, it was more so due to the fact that the man was more of a manipulator, a diplomatic than a natural fighter. He had always had a knack for such things since he was young, and it had stuck with him since both among the Sith and among the people of Nyeon.

The orange-eyed man couldn't help but crack a smile at seeing her salute him. It had been too long since someone had saluted to him of all people and to see it now, here, again, felt strange but it also had some untold humor behind it which made him chuckle softly.

"Please, please, Miss Alucard, enough with the formalities. I may be an officer, but that doesn't mean you need to treat me like one. Name's Arx Lati, pleasure to make your acquaintance."

He was about to offer out a hand to shake though Cynthia had rushed away too quickly before he could. Sighing, Arx followed after her, his synthetic leather and metal boots clapping against the polished floor of the training center like he were a proud horse. At the hearing of a 'sim-room,' the scion of house Lati was at a lose for what it was. It had been a few years since he had left the Sith and the knowledge of technology had left his mind and thoughts since that time. Hesitantly, the man caught up to the blonde female and tried to press her about what this 'sim-room' was.

"Uh, excuse my stupidity Miss Alucard but what is a...what is a sim room? We don't have such things here."

 

[Krayn]

The Imperial Star Destroyer; Vengeance. ​

He calmed his hand, gloved in dark black leather it had only moments before strained against the pull of his fingers as the he took the life of the doctor. A man who had until mere seconds previously been a loyal officer of Imperial Intelligence and held man recommendations that he had amassed across his various years of service. It all meant naught now though, his body lay on the floor in a misshapen way, fallen from where he had died held up by the power that seeped through the gloved fingers. He was nobody now, his service nothing and to the Imperial means he was removed as seen fit.

It was the first time since before the collapse of the First Order that he found himself on an Imperial Starship without being under guard or arrest. The Intelligence nature of the craft allowing his presence to remain as secret as it ever should be and again, like the High Commissar-Director in front of him the only ones who knew of his presence were in this very space. Disagreements had flared over this pet project of Kalast’s. A project that he had said required Krayn to deliver it to fruition, although at this point the ex-Ren had no idea how or even why that would be required of him. All he saw was a failed attempt at something that they had already done.

However, it wasn’t his place to question. Not yet anyway.

“Ren.” Kalast called him over, using the title he knew infuriated him so much. “I appreciate your assistance in this matter and as always will continue to call upon your support should we need such means against the great enemy.” He gave the others in the room a stern look. “Leave us.” With no word of acknowledgement or agreement they all filed out of the room in silence, leaving just him and Kalast alone.
“I feel you wish to continue your search for your place among all this.” Kalast said with a curious expression.
“I do.” Kalast always surprised the Ren, in fact if he knew no better he’d put Kalast in as the perfect set piece to be a Sith Lord, shrouded in dark shadows and mystery. He knew better then that of course, or did he. Who was this former Supreme Commander anyway? It scared him slightly how little he truly knew. “I grow tired of rounding up insurrectionists.”
“Good, I don’t blame you.” Kalast turned to look out the window that they had been using as a viewing platform. “That is why I am doing all this, so that rebels will be beneath your skills and talents. So that you can do what you were truly made for.”
“Made for?” There was a momentary hint of anger in his voice, masked as it was by the modulation in his helmet.
“The Ren were made for a purpose were they not.” Aram shrugged. “Be it that you are still or are not a Ren you were still trained for such things.” He gave the dark robed force-adept a dagger stare. “So I am to understand that you wish to continue your search for the rogue Jedi. As well as any potential leads you may have towards other such elements of interest.”
Krayn didn’t like the way he spoke those final words, it was too knowing, too personal. Yet for now he would swallow his concerns, instead focusing in on the now and what Aram was possibly getting at.
“What is it you need of me?” He would ask. Hoping for a straight answer.

He knew he would get none.

“Come with me. We have much to discuss.” It was all he could do to follow the man who despite being ‘nobody’ was more a threat then the entire galaxy worth of Jedi put together.

 

[Shran]

Location: Embassy
Objective: 2
Allies: [member="Varian Alaric"]

Shran offered a warm smile to the young woman as he nodded. "I see. Well, if there are no objections, perhaps we could head into the conference room?" He looked around at the group consisting of the young woman, the aide who escorted Shran to the conference room and the two guards that had accompanied Shran. Frankly this was his least favorite kind of diplomacy. He was flying blind. He knew very little about the people he was supposed to be connecting with and moreover, he seemed a little out of his element. They had the home field advantage. Admittedly, the place was nice and all, he just wasn't fond of conducting business in places that were unfamiliar to him.

He continued to look around the group waiting for an answer.

 

[Seto Du Couteau]

Seto Du Couteau
Location: Nyeon, Industrial Sector
Objective: Three Winter Comes to Falter Spring
Actions: Approach first staging point of Winter Revolutionaries attempting to disrupt Production
Attire:

Spoiler: Suit

​

Seto raised both his hands up, projecting his barrier to encompass more of the surrounding area, even as the blaster fire intensified he continued to approach at a brisk pace towards the tower these revolutionaries were infesting. He approached the next heavy repeater emplacement that pounded against his Force barrier, not for long as another Force push sent the three revolutionaries flying into the hair before landing on the ground with a heavy thud. ​More flames extinguished, no longer will I hear their song sing with the Force.

Suddenly more reinforcements pooled out of the front entrance of the tower, perhaps somebody figured out that a Force User might require a tad more attention instead of the blaster and heavy repeaters that have been proven to be ineffective. The sound of crunching boots, hurried footsteps and labored breathing to quickly get into position as the new group of revolutionaries brought different weapons. Slightly heavier weapons to help deal with the pestering Du Couteau heir that threatened to end their revolution.

The increased amount of blaster fire continued to mount against his Force barrier, and for the first time Seto felt his concentration falter slightly when the heavier weapons began to slam against his Force shield. Such so he diminished the size to a more reasonable size, no longer could he keep the streets free of damage. His eyes narrowed and his lips twisted into a tight frown as he slowly increased his walking speed to a dead sprint straight for the entrance and where the large concentration of the Revolutionaries were entrenched.

Something entered his ear, a new voice, but it became garbled when Seto jumped and landed in the center of the mob of Revolutionaries. Shouts and yelling were the only thing Seto could clearly make out around him before a twin sound of a snap-hiss ended the five shouters that stood nearest to him, and with three swift strikes the yellers as well met the same end. The Commissar sighed in momentarily relief, it all felt nice to finally rid of the poorly sung music that infected the Force around him and now he could figure out what had been said when he attacked.

"Repeat last transmission, what is the status of the situation?"

[member="Kyli Graf"] [member="Marriskcal Lati"] [member="Kraken Society"]

 

[Cynthia Alucard]

Cynthia Alucard, Pixie Wing Commander
Objective: 1 Imperial Naval Administration (Navy)
Location: Naval Headquarters, Pilot Training Center
Attire:

Spoiler: Normal Instructor Uniform

Spoiler: Normal Instructor Uniform

"Star Fighter Simulations, excuse my short-hand manner of speak Officer Lati." Cyn bowed her head slightly, it was a small incline to the taller man as she continued to move closer to the door. As it slid open for the two Officers of two different Navies, it revealed inside Cyn's own Pixie Pilots all stood at attention and ready for their Wing Commander to commence the lesson.

"Good job assembling the room to appear that of our normal training rooms," Cyn nodded in approval of her pilots, several large machines were ready for half the class to participate with the simulations as the other half would watch and learn. They all needed proper understanding of Imperial TIE Fighter craft handling and doctrine understanding of how the Imperial Navy of the Core Confederation utilizes their TIE fighters. After all, our newly formed partnership with the defense force of Nyeon would be slowly integrated with the rest of the Imperial Navy to better patrol this sector of space.

Cyn found herself though at a crossroads for a brief moment, while certainly her base plan of instructing through a more hands on approach would most certainly benefit all the Nyeon pilots it would still prove useful to demonstrate how an Ace TIE fighter wing performs for all the students of her class. "The lesson shall begin shortly," She turned to address the Officer Lati with a curt nod and eager smile that twisted the edges of her lips.

"Everyone, I am Wing Commander Alucard, now your instructor for today. My Pixie Wing has set up the practice simulation TIE cockpits where you shall all experience and begin to slowly understand how we fight in the dark void of space." Cyn began her quick introduction, "-First you shall see how my Pixie Pilots perform with their Sim-Training run."

All my pilots can nearly complete any training with their eyes closed. While Simulations are nice and all, they were predictable and easily memorized by any pilot. . . but that does not make what my pilots can do and show worth any less.

[member="Arx Landi"]

 

[Varian Alaric]

Name: Andrea Valesquez
Position: Federal Intern
Goal: Objective II
Status: Concerned
| [member="Shran"] |
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"Yes, yes sir. Follow me."

Andrea didn't know what she was doing here, leading this blue-skinned man around like he were a lost puppy. Which, he was, he was a lost and pathetic little puppy. He was an alien, an outsider, a foreigner who walked and stood with a stance becoming of one who believed everything would go correctly, that he would succeed and nothing bad would come of it. The tanned woman had seen it so many times beforehand on Nyeon alone, she wasn't surprised in the slightest to witness such a thing coming from an outsider. However, there was a small part of her hidden deep within her mind that hoped that somebody would be diffrent, that hoped that someone from the outside would at the very least act like they didn't own anything, that they were coming to a new land and wanted to know of everything. That was not the case, suffocating what little hope of change the woman had within her mind, snuffing out the embers and the coals, crushing them underfoot of malice and imperialism.

Tsk, they're all the same. Why even bother?

It didn't take long for them to reach the conference room, where the head of the oligarchy, Johnson Keys met with the chiss male, his callous cybernetic globes briefly looking over the blue humanoid's before offering him a handshake in 'good faith.'

 

[Huxy]

Arx Landi, Nyeon Naval Officer
Location: Naval Headquarters, Pilot Training Center
Objective: I
Status: Surprised
Attire: Nyeon Officer Uniform
| [member="Cynthia Alucard"] |
~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~ ~~~~~~

Arx couldn't help but allow the edges of his lips to upturn into a smile at seeing the short blonde woman's excitement and eagerness to teach others. She was motivated, that was without doubt. It helped to remind the brunette male of himself when he had first become a naval officer, all of the excitement he felt when he went to his classes, all of the excitement he felt whenever he was taught something new and was able to grasp it. He missed such days where life was calmer and quieter and had more enjoyment. At seeing Cynthia bow her head in respect and acknowledgement of him, Lati couldn't help but grin behind her back. Even when he had requested for their to be no formalities, their were still formalities. Though it didn't surprise the former admiral, more-so it entertained him and it allowed for the smile to remain on his face, a face which had rarely smiled in past years.

"So how is it that these simulations machines work if I may ask? You see, on Nyeon we have something similar however we can it 'neural reality,' it allows for the remote operation of such things as fighters from a safe-distance without fear of being injured, without fear of being killed in action."

The man pressed his back up against the nearby wall closest to the door, with arms of covered synthetic leather folded over one another lying across his chest in a folded, 'X' pattern. He was interested to say the least in how this technology worked, and he was likewise interested in getting to see how these pilots operated, and how Cynthia Alucard operated as well as an instructor. He kept his orange eyes on her for the moment being, shifting them to gaze at the simulations once the pilots were in the simulation frame and had begun to to do a sim-run.

 

[Shran]

Location: Embassy, Conference Room
Objective: II
Tags: [member="Varian Alaric"]

Unlike others, Shran did not share his government's hatred of non-human lifeforms. If it hadn't already been done, one might have wondered how a non human made his way to one of the senior most cabinet positions in the Imperial Executive. He reached out and shook the Johnson's hand firmly but polity. As he himself was sized up by the man before him, Shran also took the time to get a feel for Johnson before retracting his hand from the shake, placing both his hands behind his back casually.

"Mr. Keys, is it? I am Shran, Minister of Defense for the Core Imperial Confederation. I am pleased to finally meet you." He said, a d diplomatic smile on his face as he did.

 

[Huxy]

Name: Hector Vondoon
Location: Asteroid 77, The Golden City, Gravity Tether Tower #1
Position: Winter Revolutionary Leader
Goal: Objective III: Insurrection
Status: Afraid
| [member="Kyli Graf"] | [member="Seto Du Couteau"] | [member="Marriskcal Lati"] |
~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

"What to do, what to do? Tiren, can you re-establish communications with Joaquin?"

"No, sir. All communications with him just deliver static back, it's almost like his cyb-communicator was fried by something…"

"So what you're telling me...is that he's dead. There's another asset destroyed without a second thought. We could try negotiating with them, Tiren, lure them into a false sense of security and then attack them with our own men from a sides,all angles, covering every possibility."

"Ye'r a karking idiot, ye' know that? Vondoon, we can't just negotiate with them, if Joaquin is dead and all of those soldiers are dead, what choice do we have of being able to survive this encounter? None, absolutely none, sir."

"Then, let's run. If we can't fight them today, then we leave the fight and allow them to win. We come back, stronger and better than previous, and beat them back from their feigned victory over us. You really think we can back this...you really think we can beat that super-soldier? They took on over fifteen men all by them self, we have no choice but to run and regroup."

Hector looked at the youthful and young face of his fellow revolutionary Tiren, watching him closely for any fault, any cracks in his confidence. There were none, there were no visible weaknesses, only the strength of a dream of a new tomorrow showed themselves through his eyes and his expressions. The young man reminded Vondoon of himself when he was younger, when he had first heard of the cause and what he had first joined. That time had been so long ago and he had been so confident now. What did all of that dedication lead to now? Missing limbs, a scarred face, and dead friends. The glory of the revolution was a hard-fought journey, but it wasn't an impossible one. In recent months, Hector had witnessed such things of success, newfound success. With the arrival of this new Core Imperial Confederation, agents of the revolution had infiltrated them and had been able to reach out like a pathogen. Only instead of disease, they spread their knowledge, missionaries of the wondrous plague which would wipe clean the tainted metal of capitalism and replace it with the new, stainless metal of a communist rule. An egalitarian rule where everyone was equal.

"Tiren, have the flight crew prepare my shuttle. Once it's done, notify me immediately and follow with me, my son." Tiren wasn't his son in the conventinal sense, more-so that Hector acted as a father-figure to the young revolutionary, guiding him and teaching him all things he needed to know.

As the two spoke, a platoon of soldiers slowly made their way down to the location of the blonde woman and the supersoldier. Their only goal was to stall the pair of Imperials for as long as possible...

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Captain Marriskcal Lati,
Commissariat for State Security & Force-Related Affairs
Objective: #3; Winter comes to falter Spring
Equipment: Lightsaber x2 (Cyan & Azure), RAKGHOUL Battle Armour, T-8B Self-Loading Precision Carbine, Throwing Knives
Location: Gravity Tether Tower #1, Asteroid 77, Nyeon System
Allies: [member="Seto Du Couteau"] | [member="Kyli Graf"]
Enemies: [member="Kraken Society"]

Within the anonymity of her helmet, vivid blue eyes became narrowed as the pain-laced voice of Arkanian-1 filtered through the comms. To think the insurgents were so willing to sacrifice so many lives of their own people to make a mere statement. By now, her own lips were pursed into thin lines and her head raised to keep a visual on the woman at the opposite structure.

“Noted, Arkanian-One. I will ensure that your observation gets through to the upper echelons.” While her ‘name’ appeared as one Vetka Hal on the IFF, her unique signature was unmistakable, especially without the noise and pollution of so many other beings. And though she has never connected with the other woman outside of missions, Marriskcal trusted in her judgement.

Her brother’s own familiar tenor echoing through the helmet. After taking her shot and confirming the clear hit, the young woman kept a careful eye on the armoured insurgent, the barrel of her rifle following its form even as Arkanian-1 overpowered the insurgent and threw him over the edge of the tower. Marriskcal watched as he plunged downwards for a moment, a small curl of pleasure making itself known before she kept her focus back on their surroundings for further any further ambush.

“Seto, I’ve reached the Agent. She’s… hurt, but out of immediate danger. Be careful, the insurgent she was fighting was in some kind of armour,” she reported through their private comms. While she was confident in her brother’s abilities, it did not change the fact that the armour would provide the Revolution with an advantage. It was not unreasonable to presume if one insurgent was given an armour, that there will be others so similarly equipped.

“The Agent, Arkanian-One, has reported that the situation is more dire that what we have been briefed and that we should advise the local government to evacuate Asteroid Seventy-Seven. It seems that there is a risk that the hostiles are willing to weaken the gravity tethers and send this asteroid crashing into its neighbour.” As the person with the most authority, Seto would be the best to convince Nyeon’s government to act. “I will ensure that Arkanian-One is fine before I make my way back to your side.”

Switching back to connect to the woman across the building, the blonde took several steps back to gain some distance. Locking her rifle back in place, Marriskcal took a deep breath and sent a plea to the Force for its aid. Her steps were long even as she began to run, her armoured boots striking sharply against ferrocrete as she made her longest leap yet. It was reckless, it was impulsive, but it was also a calculated risk where the blonde was confident of her skills.

Marriskcal landed on the ledge near the crouching woman, the weight of her armour and the abrupt stop making her impact hard on the surface and leaving cracks behind. Ignoring the damage to the structure and the slight discomfort that courses through her form, the young woman rushed to Arkanian-1’s side. “If you would allow me, I can heal you and dampen the pain.”

The last time they spoke, she was helpless, stumbling and trying to walk on the path she had chosen. She had grown since. Even if the other may not remember the small act of kindness back then, all that mattered is that Marriskcal remembered.

 

[Kier Grey]

Vetka Hal
Asteriod 77 The Golden City, Gravity Tether Tower #1
Objective: #3 Winter Comes to Falter Spring
Tags: @Varian Alaric, [member="Cynthia Alucard"], @Arx Landi
Nearby: [member="Kraken Society"], [member="Marriskcal Lati"], [member="Seto Du Couteau"]

Cold icy bacta stored within the armour's resevoirs flooded through Vet's acrid-smelling blood-filled veins she slumped against an over-turned wood table her malfunctioning cybernetic respirator impanted into breast as a third lung gave every breath a new deep mechanical wheeze. The Armour's deflector shields cycled visibly; a thin blue veneer grew thick over power armour's surface along bands of aqua-coloured energy before dissipating once the generator had reached full-charge. The shin-plate was visibly cracked with visor faring no better appeared more like a network of webs although they were in-truth superficial Vetka couldn't see them with her Hazel Spheres from within their own pearl-white carbon-black scorch-marked helmet, an organ quivered visibly through a split in their breastplate an injury which Marriskcal would have witnessed upon jumping across the massive gap between their two towers.

For a moment Vetka thrust her stockless damaged G-12A courtesy of Joaquin towards the woman in an unbelievably steady hand, there was little doubt she could have shot Lati straight through the head in that moment but fortunately for the latter, Vet wasn't so far-gone under Amur's influence that they couldn't distinguish between friend or foe....Yet, although in matters of Psychology especially first-generation Death Troopers that all threatened to change in an instant exposed to the correct stressors. "Been a while since I've seen that armour." She said dryly through an annunciator that distorted her voice through pitch modulation giving her usually Imperial and Feminine voice a Robotic and Masculine tone. It was followed by a hoarse cough and then Vetka despite having organs behind her ribs visible to the naked eye managed to stand in an astonishing display of pain and shock response suppression brushed the kneeling woman aside in their deep stoicism. "Whatever you're going to do, do it fast. We have a tower and city to save." There was an admirable ferocity to that mechanical rumble that would no doubt be impressive, even on the verge of what normal human considered death Vet was undeterred.

 

[Seto Du Couteau]

Seto Du Couteau
Location: Nyeon, Industrial Sector
Objective: Three Winter Comes to Falter Spring
Actions: Approach first staging point of Winter Revolutionaries attempting to disrupt Production
Attire:

Spoiler: Suit

​

"Oh"

Careful to fully extend out his arm, the Du Couteau heir calmly placed his lightsabers back to his belt. There were no need for such weapons, their usefulness ended with Seto now standing within the entrance of the Tower. But to figure out away to stop such foolishness of causing a cataclysmic event on the asteroid they were all on, all the workers and civilians, the people that these White Revolutionaries were here to save. At least I thought such was the case.

"Order of evacuation has been sent. The Garrison notified and full alert of the local authority."

Seto stepped further inside, sounds of footsteps echoed away from him, no doubt whatever remained of the revolutionaries were going to make rooting them out of this tower difficult. A very large thud, sickening crack of concrete, distracted Seto as he turned around to see the impact of something that landed on the streets in front of the Tower. Blue eyes narrowed, focused but it appeared very human shaped and armored in something that Seto had yet seen before, Ah the Armor Marr mentioned.

"Heading up to group with the two of you Marr."

With a single raised eyebrow, Seto turned away and began to haunt his way down the hallways of the Tower. The horrid songs of these Revolutionaries screeched into Seto's Force sense and to ease the growing pain in his head, he picked off the remaining hostiles as he made his way to the nearest turbolift. He wouldn't even bother open the doors, instead he'd just Force blast the door straight into whoever felt safe and hidden within said room.

The Turbolift appeared relatively clean and unmarked by combat, confident enough with the machine Seto quickly had the lift climb up the Tower. He could ignore the remains of the Revolutionaries, they were attempting to make their last stand in whatever room or hallway, but they were nothing more than distractions from the real disaster that would cause significant strife for both the people of Nyeon and the Core Imperials.

Seto snapped his hands outwards and generated a Force barrier around him as he turned to face the glass of the lift to reveal three rockets smashed and exploded along his barrier. The lift shook, and with just a few inches of moving upwards it stalled with a terrible groan and screech of metal sang along not soon after. Not good. Seto focused, his forehead felt a small pulse of a headache in the making, he gently called for the Force to hold up the lift steady.

Another salvo of rockets slammed into his barrier, and the lift with Seto's assistance held steady if it only shook in place. Careful as he could, he released himself to drop but the lift smashed against the tug of the Force once again. Seto needed to drop the lift slightly to get enough of the door to allow Seto to open and with a flurry of motion he jumped through the opened door and slowly picked himself back up before getting blown further into the hallway.

Another set of rockets exploded where the turbolift had been seconds early, and now the lift was crashing down to the ground level. Seto kept the lethal damage of the explosive force, unfortunately his cloak was now torn to shreds and the corners set on fire. Worst yet, the headache had only worsened and Seto coughed up a complaint.

Next time I'll bring my own set of armor. Force healing or not, the Commissar needed to take a moment to refocus himself.

"Marr, I'll be late on the meet up. Proceed ahead of me, and I'll catch up."

[member="Kyli Graf"] [member="Marriskcal Lati"] [member="Kraken Society"]

 

[Aram Kalast]

The corridor they had walked through had been devoid of Imperial activity, be it by coincidence or by design it mattered not to the High Commissar-Director, in fact it merely made his passage easier as he led his dark robed follower towards their intended destination. A blast door opened as they approached, cleared by the security pins located on Aram’s jacket as they were with any official Imperial Officer, only these ones would have no lock-outs.

The reveal of the room was mediocre, a bare grey structure that housed a small desk and a large holotable, a shelf on the farside held several items of no note and it was all lit by a dim blue lighting that could be mistaken as nothing more than ambient glow. This was Aram’s office away from the prying eyes of those who called him “sir”, a place that he could co-ordinate the various levels of Imperial Intelligence beyond the control of others. This was a place that he had shared with precious few, Krayn was one he had only just recently decided would be among that number.

“Your hunt of the Jedi on Tython impressed me.” Aram said as they entered and the blast-door sealed them within. The lighting increasing slightly as they automatically detected Aram’s presence. “I do hope it was to your own advantage. Cut some loose ends so to speak.” The words were quiet, for there was no reason to shout or be heard over the pings of Imperial normality here.

“Indeed.” The ex-Ren spoke, his words still covered by his mask. “It was.”

“Excellent, as per our agreement I already have agents looking into other potential leads that will allow you to continue your hunt for the Jedi.” The Imperial took a seat at his desk, not bothering to invite the Force-User to the other, he knew he wouldn’t take it. “However, this does mean that we find ourselves with some significant downtime while we oversee these negotiations down on the planet.”

“Then my hunt shall continue elsewhere.” The Ren turned to leave, his frustration clearly evident.”

“Ah, you see it doesn’t.” Aram added with a slight frown. “I have need of your talent elsewhere. In a matter that is more a favour to myself. If you understand.” He didn’t wait for acknowledgement, simply waving his hand across his desk and allowing the room to be bathed in dim blue light as the holoprojector ignited beside them. “Have you ever heard of the Croneworld?”

“Croneworld.” Krayn’s helmet tilted, clearly in thought. “I have not.”

“I thought not. It isn’t a tale that the Supreme Leader would have told you.” Aram stood and presented the image on the holotable, a small planetoid, or at least it would have been if it wasn’t missing the lower half of the sphere. Where the southern hemisphere should have been it held melting spikes of what appeared to be ever cascading cloud. It was quite the sight. “The Croneworld is a place that has until recently been a well guarded secret of the Baradosh, a small and now extinct group of explorer monks. It holds a great many treasures that would do the Empire well to obtain before they fall into the hands of less...desirable hands. One particular element of this world is of extreme interest to myself and that is where you fall into place.” He ended and allowed a moment for the Ren, who had been silent for the most part to catch up.

“Where and what.” He said simply. He had learnt well, you do not barter with Kalast.

“They are known as the Shadow Seers. A group of witches and seers who have talents necessary for our project.” He sat back down. “You will go to the world, claim these seers in whatever way possible and return them to me.” He paused, “There is a shuttle in the main-bay waiting for you, the way to the Croneworld is already charted, although you will be tested by it’s journey.”

“I do not fear such tests.”

“I know, that is why I chose you.” Kalast waved and the door opened with a hiss. “Now go. I shall be kept updated as always.”

 

[Huxy]

Name: Hector Vondoon
Location: Asteroid 77, The Golden City, Gravity Tether Tower #1
Position: Winter Revolutionary Leader
Goal: Objective III: Insurrection
Status: Afraid

| [member="Marriskcal Lati"] | [member="Seto Du Couteau"] | [member="Kyli Graf"] |​

~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~ ~~~

Hector walked to the edge of the circular metal room located at the top of the gravity tether tower, looking through the transparisteel windows which lined the edges of the room. Below lied the Golden City, it stood as a testament to what heights Nyeon civilization could reach, a suspended metropolitan center built on and into the heart of an asteroid. It both stood as an inspiring idle to to extent of the dominance of Nyeon technology, and an example of the faults of capitalisim. The faults of corporations allowed to run wild from private benefactors and owners, all of whom cared only for credits and nothing else. People didn't live in the Golden City, they were trapped there by inflation prices and debts that they could never pay off no matter how long they worked. It was a deathtrap, a deathtrap devised by capitalistic greed meant to circumvent the soverignity of a natural people in exchange for the materialistic wealth which drove society as it was.

"Know what I hate about this karking place, the corporations. They control everything, everything, making us have no say in anything. Thus is the fall of capitalism, a system meant to offer people freedom in choice and business with little restriction. And the fruit that tree of capitalistic desire has wrought is not but debt and avarice and sadness and greed."

"Quoting poetry now, Hector? I thought you were better than that, I thought you were more refined than that," Tiren mused aloud, poking fun at the older man. "The system is at fault, it's always been at fault. It's impossible to make a perfected egalitarian society, a Utopian society. There are too many errors, too many unrefined muses, that is to say, too many people whom have not the vision for the future, too many in-formalities that threaten the possibility of such a world."

"And here I thought I was the one quoting too much poetry."

"Tsk, I learn from the best, old man. Take these imperials as an example, they seek to establish order, refined and ultimate order under their rule. They have a powerful military from what little that we have seen. Now how do we go about circumventing such opposing forces? The answer is simple in reality, we play the game of democracy and of the wider political spectrum."

Tiren had a point at that, and it was a good one. The Winter Revolution couldn't survive and elude those who seek to maintain control as easily now, especially with the shadow of this imperial tyranny reigning over as a cat to mice. The old ways would have to be done away with, at least, the old ways would need to be refined and organized to the present to ensure suitability and the success of the plan to overthrow capitalism. The capitalistic dogs would come, and they would falter and drown in red waters.

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Captain Marriskcal Lati,
Commissariat for State Security & Force-Related Affairs
Objective: #3; Winter comes to falter Spring
Equipment: Lightsaber x2 (Cyan & Azure), RAKGHOUL Battle Armour, T-8B Self-Loading Precision Carbine, Throwing Knives
Location: Gravity Tether Tower #1, Asteroid 77, Nyeon System
Allies: [member="Seto Du Couteau"] | [member="Kyli Graf"]
Enemies: [member="Kraken Society"]

As the deathtrooper pointed her damaged rifle towards her forehead, the blonde remained calm and unmoving as she waited for the other to identify her as a friendly. The everpresent song of the Force continued its forbidding leitmotif, but as it marched on at an unchanging pulse, Marriskcal knew that the other would relent. As she waited for Arkanian-1 to speak and allow her to draw closer, her brother’s voice filtered through their private comms once more, confirming that the government was starting on the evacuation process.

“Duly noted, Seto.” On her display, his diamond indicated that he was within the tower itself, though due to his initial position on the ground, it would take him awhile to ascend to where they both were.

Her gaze swept across Vetka’s form as she began to quietly categorise the damage the other has sustained, her shoulder and fingers twitching in sympathy as she allowed a hiss to escape her at the severe injuries. The exposed organ and white of her bones peeked through between the cracked armour, and if not for the fact that she had seen her share of gore and injuries, the blonde would find herself becoming sickened. How the other was able to remain conscious and still moving, Marriskcal would never know.

And then, ALPHA-1 spoke, her voice distorted and unrecognisable despite her damaged helmet. Despite the machine-like shade of the deathtrooper, it was clear enough from the swirl of her presence that the other had tentatively accepted her as a ‘friend’ for now. “It has also been awhile since I last wore this particular set of armour,” she quipped back, the personality of her own lilt similarly concealed behind an impassive mask. At her acquiescence, the young woman stepped forward with her hand held up, the curl of the Force beginning to gather and focus under her guidance.

“As I am not attuned to your aura… and we are short on time, this may hurt,” Marriskcal cautioned, not knowing that the other’s sense of pain has been dulled to the point of nonexistence.

Taking a deep breath, the blonde placed her palm gently over the shattered breastplate and her strongly beating heart, her eyes beginning to glow within her helmet as began to channel her presence through Arkanian-1’s system, allowing the Force to speak to her. Categorising the injuries mentally and grinning to herself as her senses found the flow of bacta racing through her veins, the blonde manipulated both the liquid and her own healing energy towards her torso, stabilising lungs and exposed heart.

Beneath her hand, tendrils of muscles and flesh began to knit together, leaving behind a thin layer of regrown skin behind. A trickle of blood began to flow out of her nostril even as her vision burned white for a moment from the exertion she had expended. Feeling lightheaded and weakened, Marriskcal took a step backwards, her fingers trembling though the armour hid such vulnerability from the world. It was the toll exacted from her attempts at rapid regeneration, especially on someone who was more of a stranger than friend.

“T– There. It will have to do for now. Be careful not to reopen it.”

She took another deep breath to gather herself, her eyes fluttering in an attempt to chase the motes of darkness away from her vision.

“You may have to go ahead, Arkanian-1. I will provide support to your six.”

As it were, healing the other had left her reservoir low, and the familiar shadows of a healing trace were beginning to haunt the edge of her mind. But Marriskcal has always been stubborn and contrary, and she refused to let something so asinine to deter her from completing a mission. And so, when her brother once again spoke over their comms, the blonde did her best to be honest to him, while also trying to keep his concerns allayed.

“Be careful, brother. I have stabilised Arkanian-1, and we shall be continuing with the mission…” she paused in between her report, the familiar distaste of revealing her vulnerability welling up within her. “But I have expended more than eighty-five percent of my energy… and will be relegating myself to a supportive role until my skills are further required.” While she had stims to aid in her recovery, they were not something she liked to use unless it became necessary. Forgetting for a moment that she had a helmet on, the young woman swiped a gauntleted hand over the faceplate, making a face when a soft clang resounded instead.

 

[Hansen]

Captain Lynda Dorn
Metellos Surface, Moridebo District, Stratablock 7
Tags: [member="CC-239"], [member="Marriskcal Lati"], [member="Kraken Society"], [member="Aram Kalast"], [member="Seto Du Couteau"] @Shran, [member="Arx Landi"], [member="Varian Alaric"]
Nearby: [member="CC-239"]

There was a situation within Stratablock 7, the Winter Revolution were attacking the huge one-hundred story plus tall residential and commercial Moridebo District, the stratablocks of the district reached high towards the worlds' several moons law an open hand. "Listen-in Troopers, we've got new intel from the Coruscant Security Force boys!" Lynda wearing a new suit of 'Commando' variant Katarn Mark IX Battle Armour sauntered down between the two aisles of chairs on either side of the Banshee's dropships' fuselage where the other team's members were seated, coming to the cargo ramp her left-hand reached up and gave a hydraulic release handle present against wall a harsh tug revealing a sky marred with bursts of black smoke; the telltale sign of ground-side flak guns attempting to blow the Core Imperial Confederation-roundel bearing craft out from low-atmosphere.

Using a gloved-hand to grip tightly to a grab-handle and prevent being thrown back down the open Cargo Ramp into oblivion the adrenaline-addicted Captain Dorn found it pleasurable in a weird way to be so close to that which she feared most: Death. "Armed extremists have breached Stratablock seven and are killing HelioCorp employees, they're a designer of Nuclear Fusion Reactors." Anybody with an ounce of brain capacity would see where this was going, atleast that's what Lynda thought, it always came down to weapons of mass destruction for desperate terrorists. "Word from Coruscant Security Force is that they might be attempting to steal schematics and material relating to the constructing of a reactor which could be re-purposed as a Fusion-powered explosive." Lynda placed a supportive hand over the G-11F Blaster Rifle holstered against her right thigh wrapping fingers around its' pistol grip steadily but keeping hand off of the trigger.

Without warning the Banshee dropship was struck with a high-explosive kinetic round that smashed into its' right wing, three Commandos who went to stand from their seats were immediately flung towards Lynda and clear from the craft to their ends, to those clones' eternal credit they did not scream. "I've lost our primary starboard thrusters!" The Pilot warned through the airframe's local comlink channel, struggling with his controls in a titanic struggle attempting to guide their craft down towards Statablock 7 despite their rapidly declining altitude. "We're going down, brace, brace, brace!" The Banshee's nose pitched down its' pilot valiantly dashing their own survival against Stratablock 7's five meter thick gargantuan ferrocrete roof, it shrieked through Durasteel ventilation shrouds grinding steadily to a halt with its' front-third pitched precariously over an edge below which waited a five-hundred meter drop towards certain death.

Lynda awoke from a brief state of unconsciousness to feel the weight of anvil smashing against brain prompting her to claw a hand against helmet. "Hells below, my head..." It felt like a hangover, not the we had fun last night type but the type where one narrowly avoided death through blood-alcohol poisoning not that Captain Dorn could get intoxicated any longer since being a successful candidate of Project: Revenant which had made her so beyond Human. Lyn's blue eyes found that the floor is now the ceiling and rolled over steadily even as ribs and strained abdominal muscles cried out in protest, the oxygen had been knocked clear from her lungs within the smoky Banshee's interior her Cyan-coloured visor peered around for life. "Status?! Don't tell me you're all dead!" She teased stomping over towards CC-239 and shaking his shoulder violently. "Vod, get your worthless clone arse off of the floor." She groaned again pulling her G-11F blaster out sitting it across bent knees while shaking him. "We've got tech to secure, terrorists to kill and cold ones to break open after all this is done."

She was trying subtly to imitate their ARC Instructor Vilaz Munin but even through her voice excruciating pain could be heard and Lynda's vital signs sung a merry tune on her comrades' helmet-mounted displays, telling of internal injuries. Presumably from where three of her heavy comrades smashed straight into her armoured body at forty meters per second.

 

[Cynthia Alucard]

Cynthia Alucard, Pixie Wing Commander
Objective: 1 Imperial Naval Administration (Navy)
Location: Naval Headquarters, Pilot Training Center
Attire:

Spoiler: Normal Instructor Uniform

Spoiler: Normal Instructor Uniform

Pride slowly swelled within her as she watched her Pixies quickly organize and start up their simulation within the TIE Cockpit training machine. Cyn smiled wickedly as she inspected the rest of the students both watch and listen to the communication between her Pixies so that they might better adjust and understand how her pilots work together. While Cyn certainly appreciated any great lecture to get points across to others, there was something to be said about practicing what was being taught. A more hands on approach to learning is never a terrible thing after all.

The diminutive instructor turned her attention back to Officer Lati and with a bit of thought she nodded at the idea of using remote-piloted TIE's for possible missions. Certainly I wouldn't mind such a privilege of flying inside a space coffin. "I shall see that the Imperial Naval R&D look into such technology, and whether if we can implement it among our Starfighter Corps." Cyn mused, it was worth the effort to see such technology given the chance to showcase itself.

Of course, my luck would have see the implementation of such technology far too late, or worse. Cyn's mood soured sightly, but her smile remained all the same, except save for a slight twitch near the corner of her mouth. Her pilots though were already making impressions among the rest of the students. Cyn fixed her smile and allowed her chest to be filled with pride once again, her pilots would perhaps one of a million to somehow both make it out of her training and survive her own insane bad luck.

Granted, she had mostly used them in ways that others might see as needless sacrifice, rather unbecoming of a future Instructor of the Imperial Navy Academy. ​But they all managed to survive and I've been promoted for my ingenuity and clear focus for my efforts. Cyn could not laugh at the irony, else she would be laughing at her own terrible fate of always landing herself and her Pixies in the worst of missions.

"Alright, the rest of you ready once they finish their last simulation objective, it is your turn Training Squad One." Cyn called forth, her words biting the air around her, the chill of her voice, perhaps the rumors that ice flowed through her veins were more than rumors.

[member="Arx Landi"]

 

[Draven Darkstar]

Lt. Draven Darkstar.
Equipment: Storm Commando Armor. Custom E-11. Explosives.
Objective: Winter Comes to Falter to Spring
Location: Nyeon Lower levels. Nightfall.

They landed on the planet's surface a few hours ago in a black Lambda-class T-4a shuttle.​

The red tint of the interior made him feel at home. Armed with the latest stealth technology, flights were always a smooth one. Most of the time of course. It was his first time on this durasteel jungle and the constant buzzing of speeders filled his helmet's audio sensors. A billion lights illuminated the planet's surface. What a vibrant jewel it was. Planets like these have so much to offer, yet always they give way for the corrupt and lawless. The Winter Revolutionaries, a plague that has taken the lives of millions, continue to disrupt the flow of progress. ​

​

Imperial Intel suggests that both the rebels and the crime organization known as the black sun are planning an arms deal in an abandoned warehouse near the entertainment district. Out of all the illegal contraband they've dabbled in, the black sun always made its money selling illegal weapons to the highest bidder. It only shows that the rebels are even more desperate than before. Not surprising in the least, he thought to himself with a half smirk on his scarred face. ​

​

Consisting of thirteen men, his commandos blended into the shadows. His helmet's night vision pierced through the dark. The warehouse was Fairly large. Guarded, but no so much as to gain attention from the local authorities. Two snipers on the top roof, two thugs guarding the main entrance. ​

"How do you wish to proceed, squad leader?" said one of the troopers on their private com channel. ​

"As we always do, we dissect them." ​

​

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​

​

​

​

​

 

[Lannik Hayes]

Lannik Hayes, Stormtrooper Sergeant
Objective: #3; Winter comes to falter Spring
Equipment: Katarn Multipurpose Battle Armour, AKraB Vibrodagger, G-11F Blaster Rifle
Location: Industrial District, City Lower Levels, Nyeon
Allies: [member="Draven Darkstar"]

​

Somewhere in the vicinity, close to where the arms deal was about to take place, an unwitting Lannik Hayes ambled along the dim streets of the industrial district, his pace measured and steady. The bone white of his armour gleamed beneath the flickering lights, marking him clearly as a foreign influence to the denizens of Nyeon. Within the solitude of his helmet, the brunet whistled to himself, a random jingle that had latched on to his brain and refused to leave, even as he sent a message through the shared comms to let his fellow patrolmates-in-misery know that he was en route to address the concern that has filtered in.

“Do you need a bud to go with, Hayes?”

“Nah, I’ve got it. It’s just a little out of my way,” Lannik replied the other, shrugging a shoulder as he drew close to the aforementioned warehouse. “Anyways, it’s probably just the local police testing our willingness to check up on minor issues, as well as our response time.”

With his blaster rifle in hand, the brunet stared up the the dark warehouse that loomed before him. To his undiscerning eye and his eternal woe, it looked just like every other abandoned factory and dilapidated warehouse he had the displeasure to see. Looks like no matter whether if it’s on Coruscant or Nyeon, certain facts of life never changed. “Well, let’s just get this over with, Hayes,” he mumbled, directing the words to himself.

Unbeknownst to him, the stormtrooper was about to find himself right up chit’s creek.

And that moment started… even before Lannik was able to step up to the front gate itself.

A bright bolt pierced through the nightsky, and it was only sheer luck and excellent self-preservation instincts that saw the crimson laser landing harmlessly on the ground as the male threw himself against the duracrete wall that surrounded the warehouse.

“What the kark?!”