Strength Through Joy [FO Dominion of Trenwyth Hex]

[Samka Derith]

Location: Tel'erra
Objective: 3 - Earn the trust of local tribal leaders
Allies: [member="Sentiri"]
Around: [member="Rolf Amsel"], [member="Garett Van"], [member="Nathaniel"] Barret, [member="Valessia Brentioch"]
Post no. 01

Was this what she was assigned to now? Being a glorified bodyguard? Sam had done something similar a while ago during negotiations but that was one of her earliest assignments, back when she was an acolyte. Apparently even at Knight level such trivial tasks had be done. Still, Sam glanced at the Chiss woman as she took a seat in the shuttle behind the co-pilot, there was no question of the importance of the individual she was protecting this day so perhaps it could even be considered an honour even if she'd rather be taking the lead herself.

"How do I look?" Sam asked as she straightened the length of her girlish, sleeveless cream dress. Her hair was fluffed with a small yellow ribbon tied up at the side. The appearance stood in complete contrast to the dark cloaked figure who had introduced herself as Sentiri's escort earlier. "Completely non-threatening I hope." A devious smile crossed Sam's lips as she used the Force to camouflage the dark side's corruption, her skin became a more less disturbing shade of white and irises reverted back to their natural brown. The teenage Ren was loath to admit it but her small, petite and youthful appearance was not intimidating. It made more sense for her to go the opposite direction and trick foes into believing she was no threat and catch them off guard. It wouldn't scare people away from attacking anyone under her protection but it certainly made them easier to stop once they did.

However the Chiss woman remained largely focused on the approaching planet. Sam took in her appearance once more, she'd not met one of their kind before. They were taller than she expected. Now she turned her attention to the planet, Tel'erra. She wasn't entirely certain of the First Order's ambition here, she could recall something about precious metals but Sam was mostly in the dark. Just a short while ago such a thing would be impossible, she would tirelessly evaluate the goals of each mission and what they meant in the longer term of aim of furthering the Supreme Leader's power to every corner of the galaxy. Now though she was distracted by personal matters. The life she thought had been left far behind was beginning to resurface and she knew not how to deal with it. For now though, she would clear her mind and focus on the task given. It could help her to stop stressing over personal things in the meantime.

The Chiss addressed her to follow as the shuttle landed and she made for the exit.

"Of course. After you," Sam smiled sweetly and merrily skipped out of the shuttle behind Sentiri, already settling into the role of a wide eyed innocent girl fresh into the First Order's Civil Service.

 

[Roderik von Brinkerhoff]

Objective 2a - Deliver pro-First Order propaganda leaflets over key local settlements on Tel'erra [Starfighter Corps]
Objective 2b - Escort medical transports to and from local population centers on Tel'erra [Navy and Starfighter Corps]
Post 2

Pilot's Ready Room, Resurgent-class Star Destroyer, Concordia

Approximately an hour after he had given his commander's briefing to Captain [member="Greta Kohler"], Roderik von Brinkerhoff found himself back in the ready room finishing up another quite similar briefing. He had just informed Captain [member="Nils Brenner"] of his squadron's duties for their individual sortie. They were to conduct escort operations for the naval transports delivering foodstuffs and medical aid, and then break off upon completion to do a minor force-projection display by way of a low-level, high-visibility patrol around the area. Letting the villagers know the might of the First Order safe-guarded them was part of their hearts and minds campaign.

"Your interceptor squadron should be best suited for both of these tasks, and I think we can all use the rest." Nils had been present during the cataclysmic battle that had taken place with the Rogue Sith above Castameer, some desolate rock chosen to be the unceremonious grave for so many, both on land and in space.

This mission would be a cake walk in comparison, with zero expected resistance -- and nearly zero chance for loss of life on the squadron's part.

"I trust you will do us all proud, Nils." He concluded the briefing early so that the Captain could have a chance to select his flight roster for the mission. Pilot Officer [member="Collin Calhoun"] would undoubtedly be flying out there today with Nils once more.

 

[Valessia Brentioch]

[media]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cMQuj9reRYE[/media]​

​

Large white tents struck out against the green of Tel'Erra, as were the uniforms of the First Order. "Place that there, we've got to get the inoculation line set up, and no. No, we don't need that here, set that up in the other village where there are more children, thank you." She said to a younger nurse, Leo looked up from the data tablet to see just beyond the tents another shipment of troops. This time led by Major [member="Rolf Amsel"], "my, my, my." She says quietly to herself and then walks across the camp with her data tablet to help unpack a box of stims. She too, could hear the sounds of the walkers nearby - and glanced up at them and thought how terribly unnecessary it would be to have them here. Then again, Leo didn't give those kinds of orders nor knew what went into making them. Her job was to assist the locals and bring them up to the First Imperial Medical Service standard of good health. Her uniform much like Major Amsel was dull, the black and the gray were terrible but the insignia stood out.

Security checkpoints were being established, and once more the sound of walkers could be heard. She now ignored them and went about her duties, troops clad in white approached asking what they could do. They were directed to lift crates and set up shelves, tables, and desks. "Major, Lieutenant Commander Lail of the ASG wants to know if we can spare a few boots. They're running behind schedule setting up the Steadfast hangars."

"We can, rotate some of the troops that have been here already out to Lail and tell her she owes me," says the officer in charge to her second, the All-Surface Guard were nearby establishing their own base of operations. Their looming towers and hangars could be seen - rather their skeletal frames could be seen. Leo went back to work, she was now organizing stims by size and importance. Nearby, medical droids were being assembled her tent, the command tent wasn't too far from where she'd been but it took a member of the enlisted crew to tap her shoulder and notify her of Rolf Amsel's arrival there. She asked them to continue the work with the stims, grabbed her data tablet and crossed to her command tent.

Walking through one of the flaps, the reflection of light glinted showing the green flora that surrounded the camp totally. She still remembers Rolf from the ball, when he was a sergeant. "Moving up are we?" She asks him with a knowing smile, "congratulations Major." She sets her data tablet down on the table between them. "What can I do for you?"

---

---

---

Valessia opted to take her own transportation to Tel'Erra. Edra her loyal Zabrak servant, Paddy the protocol droid and Cin the Devaronian pilot were at their stations per the usual. This time, the phantom-class vessel had the addition of [member="Hyori Tal"] or rather, Mako Miura. Recently assigned to Valessia as an aid, or personal assistant. From Ryoone to Advosze to Tel'Erra, the First Order was expanding, and as Valessia looked over the landing site she took to her own tablet and dug up information on the people. Togruta and Humans, mostly and suddenly Valessia wished she had taken Togruti up as a language but much like the native tongue of the Advosze, Valessia was learning this on the fly as well.

The government of Tel'Erra was that of a confederacy this too would be of importance as the diplomacy team was set to meet with the Tel'varn people. Tel'varn the result of the Human and Togruta, yet another screen of information that she would be studying - or rather was studying. "Your ladyship, we've arrived..."

Valessia arched a brow, "where?"

The protocol droid simply gestured to the map.

"Remind me to give Cin my idea of punishment for adjusting your responses," she quipped with a sigh getting up from her table, "Ms. Miura if you could please bring along a recording device, a stylus, and additional tablet, please, thank you."

"Edra, play nice," Val said with a wag of her finger, "or at least wait for me to get back."

Edra only rolled her eyes, "as you wish your ladyship."

"Stop it," she said with a playful tone yet a serious demeanor. "Paddy can you tell Sumiko that I'll be late coming home, I've had to make a pit stop at Green Acres, apparently."

"Of course your ladyship."

Edra and Cin giggled.

"Come along, Ms. Miura, before we're stuck here while these two play giggle fit for the rest of the century," Valessia chimed as she departed her vessel and made contact with [member="Nathaniel Barrett"]. "Mr. Barrett, I've arrived on Tel'Erra, where would you like to meet?"

---------​

Objective 2 & 3​

Post 1​

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Post: 5/38
Location: Xal 3
Allies: [member="Basileus Isauros"]
Enemies: unknown
Objective: Help in the construction of a shipyard on Xal 3 (objective 9)

"No response, captain"

"Check for whether there has been malfunctions in the Excubitore's equipment"

"No communications failures detected"

"That was not good at all"

Perhaps the communications officers were sleeping on duty, perhaps the situation was more severe than they thought. But they could perhaps divert a tug or two to provide the FIV Excubitore with a measure of relief supplies as appropriate. And yet the Excubitore may have been jamming their communications, maybe not, but Dunames knew that the tactical display may be faulty. Dunames did nothing until there was a clear indication. She trusted her fellow First Order citizens not to fire on the Ultima, especially not when the drydocks were being built around Dunames. Some of them were designed for servicing Imperator-Xs, while others were there for Victory-Xs and other drydockss still for Resurgents or Darr Itahs. She heard about the Darr Itah and the First Order navy having five of them: FIV Contempt, FIV Darr Itah and FIV Triumph that she knew about by name. Well, assuming that the lead ship was named the same as the class, in which case there would actually be a FIV Darr Itah.

"Inspect the tactical display"

 

[Darth Veles]

Location: Annaj, marsh
Objective: 5


Even now, it was still there, standing guard in the same spot as indicated on his datapad. Without sparing the brightly lit display another look, both amber orbs goggled straight at what had survived both unkind centuries and pillaging rebels. Surrounded by almost ethereal green vapours stood a skeletal silhouette clad in unbearably devastated look, covered in rust, grime and green patches of moss, dangerously tilted in one direction as if resembling a dying king about to fall from his throne and fully sink into the hungry bog. Truly, the former sign of Imperial rule offered a sad sight to behold, more so when Palpatine’s heritage coursed through the Mon Cal’s blood. Melancholy was not the only thing festering in his heart though. Veles clenched his fist, knuckles white; witnessing old, fading tombstones of his culture that used to dominate the galaxy so long ago filled him with vengeful malice. If nothing else, the sight had further reinforced his belief in order.

Ultimate order, its necessity, stark beauty and purity.

He had to get in there. See what little still existed from Darth Sidious’ empire, study it!

There was no need to turn around when a subtle rustling of leaves reached his ears; many pairs of beady eyes belonging to several native animals observed what they hoped to be prey from a respectful distance, but none dared to get too close, reeking of hunger and fear alike in the Force. Mainly fear - as if the Dark Side warned them to stay away. And so the beasts waited, hoping for the right moment to come and deliver a bloody, tasty meal into their stomachs. Displaying calmness unfitting for a man knee-deep in a swamp and surrounded by wild animals, the Sith Lord clearly wasn't concernened, not with his arsenal of lethal tools at disposal and currents of the Force running through his veins.

Sight firmly set upon the tower’s half flooded entrance, Veles sent fresh ripples through the shallow, murky water as he waded through the swamp’s mirror-like surface showing a distorted reflection of reality, bare feet sinking deep into the gooey mud with wet slurps. Foul and disgusting sulphur stench filled the air each time he took a step forward and burst bubbles of bog gas filled with methane, yet lust for knowledge, even if purely historical, relentlessly drove him further still. He did not expect to find the invaluable droid in this tower, but his patriotic streak took over without warning and demanded an audience anyway. Combined with the Sith Lord’s natural hunger for information, it made a deadly luggage threatening to pull him down. Even after the lukewarm muck reached his thighs, he did not care, gaze positively glued to the doorway, obsessed with his head’s bizarre idea of exploring the ruin. Then came a sudden stop, followed by Veles’ eyes glancing at the map’s details. Only one, two more steps.

Finally, before the marsh dragged him down and claimed another victim, solid durasteel panels stopped his descent, posing as solid bottom bravely defying the swamp’s bottomless throat. Relief pleasantly washed over the Sith Lord's form, free of worry for now. The Force continued to play mute, revealing no danger or large lifeforms in his nearest vicinity, faithfully serving its master in his endeavours. A sly smile crossed his expression, it was the grin of a winner, full of eagerness to reach out and grasp his prize. Nothing could stop him now, forbid the Sith Lord from taking everything his heart desired - and Veles intended to abuse this to the fullest, excited about what the old tower continued to guard within its bent bowels.

 

[Tanomas Graf]

Post: 2/???
Objective: 6
Allies: [member="Darell Irani"], [member="Natasi Fortan"]

"As am I. With all of the resources and faith I am putting into recreating this project, it would be immensely disappointing to see them unable to fulfill their function." Graf stated, a small look of disdain overtaking his face as the airspeeder pulled up next to them. Luxury was always an aspect that Tanomas never truly understood, preferring the utility provided by military star ships, though a resourceful person would know that he had a private art gallery within his quarters aboard the Abdicator.

The old man internally chuckled at this prospect as he was ferried into the limousine.

He gave a swift gesture to his dark troopers and with a nod, the soldiers went off with the rest of the security detail.

Graf sat down across from the Grand Moff, observing the inside of the speeder thoroughly before being asked a question. "I can't say I have. I've been too preoccupied with the Navy, especially after my advancement to admiral. Organizing our systems along the Sanctuary Pipeline in the Mid Rim, bolstering their naval defenses against a possible Alliance retaliation due to the hyperway leading straight to Sullust. Not enough time to head back to Dosuun and meet new friends." He conveyed. Truth be told, if they acquired the Annaj system, trade along the hyperlane would increase, but so would the amount of ships needed for planetary defense and stamping out illegal activity.

 

[Daxin Novari]

Objective 2a - Equip TIE/Striker squadron with heat-shielded leaflet dispensers for their upcoming mission
Post 3

TIE Fighter Hangar Bay, Resurgent-class Star Destroyer, Concordia

Senior Technician Daxin Novari was in his element. A non-combat mission, with non-exploding ordnance, in a not-so-timely manner? After the hellish experience that had been the Rogue Sith armada and the battle to destroy their super-weapon. Intense would not even begin to describe what that had been. He had lost so many of his pilot friends in what seemed like only a few short hours. That was the price of admittance to the great game of war, however. The random chance of losing the lottery for continued living.

It wasn't a very fair wager, Daxin thought. He couldn't understand why they risked so much for so little in return, but, then again Daxin was never one to risk... Well, anything.

He transported the ordnance - rectangular metallic pods that would attach to the wing hard-points on the TIE Striker fighter craft - on a small repulsor-cart. He moved with the casual sense of calm that can only be found when transporting objects that are not designed to explode in any number of traumatic ways and fashions.

"Good day, sir!" He exclaimed jovially to every officer he passed by. Some were annoyed by his exuberance, others had grown to know him well enough to never be fazed by his antics. The good and the bad.

First stop was the section of the hangar reserved for the command flight of [member="Greta Kohler"]'s fighter squadron. He began by attaching what he had begun referring to as the 'proppods' and 'propaganda pods' when the first failed to take off, to the lead fighter craft.

The technician hummed a catchy little tune all the while.

 

[Asharad Graush]

Location: Annaj Swamp
Objective 7: Resistance Bustin'
Allies: [member="Rexus Wenck"]
Post Twelve.

A'sharad Graush had watched the Lieutenant do his running through the sludge. It occurred to him that the closer that they had gotten to the rebel base, the more and more wet the ground had become. They were on the edge of the swamp, he knew, but he never knew how close they really were until that moment. Meanwhile, he had weaved the Force around the Lieutenant, to transform that sailing backwards into a glide into cover alongside A'sharad as he utilized the Force to pull him back into cover.

At that point, A'sharad had gotten up to his feet. The stormtrooper companies cried out, and then they emerged from the tree line, crimson bolts shooting forth into the gap that had been created. Naturally, they were countered by another group of blaster bolts, but by that time, A'sharad had emerged besides the Lieutenant and was propping him against the tree. "See? Listen and you will succeed." Some nearly one hundred yards down the surrounding treeline, the stormtroopers were from the swamp were emerging, the faint sound of blaster fire couldn't be heard, not with their proximity to an ongoing battle, a battle that left the White Wolves and the Gundark Gunners severely outnumbered.

"You're going to crash soon, turn it off," he said, in reference to the suit.

Exhaustion was about to strike him like a freight train, and had he been standing, the chances of A'sharad just allowing him to drop to the ground were high. Seeing as he was already on the ground, the Sith High Colonel just allowed him to turn it off himself an to rest as the exosuit would eventually start feeling extremely heavy on him. It provided extra stimulation to the muscles, pushing the wearer past their physical limitations, and he had been under its influence for some time.

Another explosion, not close enough to be of concern as the last of the stormtroopers advanced past them.

 

[Viktor DuSang]

Post: 1
Objective: 6
Allies: [member="Natasi Fortan"] | [member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Darell Irani"]

All of that time on Valhalla hunting down Resistance members, and he couldn't wait to get back to his life as Viktor DuSang. However, he was having a hard time remembering what it was he missed. Sure, it was important work. The life of the Grand Moff was nothing to be bartered. He cared for the woman deeply, but with each life he took, he felt this life slipping through his fingers. It was all so monotonous.

He was barely sleeping. Barely eating. He paced his room like a caged animal. His muscles tightly coiled, ready to pounce. Finding a quiet cargo compartment, he took off his black jacket and black silk shirt. His shined shoes and cashmere socks were removed as well, leaving only his black slacks. His lightdagger hilts shot to his hands, but he didn't activate the orange blades. Closing yellow eyes, he felt a calm wash over him.

His promise to [member="Isla Ashen"]. Even when she wasn't there to instruct him, he would continue to sharpen his skills. In his mind's eye, he was surrounded by a group of assailants. His blades sprang to life and he bolted. First the one in front of him, he rushed him from the side, lightdagger slicing through the abdomen. As the next two assailants stepped forward, Viktor deflected their shots with the plasma blades, closing the distance.

The hilts of his daggers shot forward as he tossed the blades, connecting with both heads. One assailant remained. Yellow eyes rested on the last target as a slow grin crept upon his lips. In three quick steps he closed the distance with the last objective as he leaped up. His foot shot forward to connect in one fluid motion.

"Sir!"

Yellow eyes opened as he stopped the kick, his foot hovering beside the helmet of a stormtrooper. He brought his foot down slowly, the grin growing to a grimace. His two hilts were levitating where he left them in his training. With a wave of his hands, they floated back to the holsters on his forearm. Stepping to his clothes, he began getting dressed. His socks and shoes were put back on. His silk shirt was next, leaving the top button undone. With the jacket back on his shoulders, Viktor DuSang was back.

"It's time."

Following the guard detail, he approached the armored limousine hovercraft. Opening the door for the Grand Moff and the Admiral, he bowed his head as she passed. "My Lady." Sparking up a clove, he took a long drag. Taking a seat at the front of the limo, he pulled out his datapad. Checking the reports, everything seemed to be in order. "We're clear. Move it."

 

[Progflaw99]

----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----​

Location: Tel'erra, Central Deployment Site​

In Vicinity/Affected:​

[member="Garett Van"] | [member="Sentiri"] | [member="Valessia Brentioch"] | @First Order Military | @First Order Government​

Objective(s):​

Objective 2: Provide medicinal aid to the tribes of Tel’erra​

Objective 3: Make contact with the tribal leaders of Tel’erra​

and ensure the First Order earns their trust.​

Post: 3/38​

----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----​

He'd taken a few moments to get his bearings in the bustling tent, medical aides and small droids moving every which way. Rolf had been used to the chaos of combat but this? This was something else entirely. It wasn't quite as hectic as a field hospital but the sheer amount of preparation that was being done surprised him, especially considering that this was all for people who weren't yet First Order Citizens. The subtlety wasn't lost on him however, the newly promoted Major did understand a thing or two about political positioning. He saw the value in what they were doing but it bothered him slightly nonetheless.

Rolf stood there looking about when he heard the tent flap open behind him, a bright eyed and bushy tailed Lieutenant appearing from outside. As the Lieutenant reported in he raised an eyebrow, his eyes nonchalantly looking up at the ceiling of the tent then back down to the lieutenant.

"No need for saluting indoors chap. Though I appreciate the sentiment." He smiled.

Rolf too had been the eager soldier, reporting into his first unit with just as much enthusiasm if not more when he'd first enlisted. He didn't hold it against the Lieutenant in front of him, if he had read the roster right the AT-ST platoons were typically commanded by Captains or Majors. He'd have to keep his eye on this one, the fact they'd assigned him as an acting platoon commander spoke either high expectations or proven worth.

The Major motioned towards one of the troopers behind him who produced a small datapad. Snatching it briefly and confirming the data, Rolf handed the datapad to the young lieutenant.

"Here are your orders. I need two AT-ST's parked right next to the Pediatrics section, I want your men to put on their best smiles and let the kids up into the cockpits." He paused, staring deep into the Lieutenant's eyes. "I want you to be absolutely sure you disable the weapons systems. This is to be a fun activity for the children and their parents. The rest of your walkers I want deployed in a standard security pattern." He turned back to his right but paused, his eyes once more finding the Lieutenant's.

"Oh Lieutenant. Do be sure your men watch their language around the little ones."

Turning back to the primary issue at hand he heard a voice from another part of the tent. Like a hawk, his eyes locked onto the woman who'd remarked on his promotion. A playful grin crossed his features as he recognized Major Eldrel from the Military Appreciation Ball held on Dosuun. He'd had the pleasure of dancing with the woman and he if pressed, he would likely admit it had been quite... enjoyable. Trying his best, he tried not to express the strange excitement at seeing her again as he nodded towards the woman, extending his hand.

"Thank you Major, it's good to see you again. Sorry to skip the formalities, but it looks like we're a little behind here. I've got my men finishing unloading the medical supplies as we speak." He took a breath before continuing. "You've no doubt heard the walkers. we've got a pair stationed near the Pediatrics area. Should be some good fun for the kiddos to see some real First Order technology. The rest we've got on security detail though I doubt there's truly a need."

His eyes drifted to the rest of the tent, people bustling about, some obviously doctors, others maybe interns. The rumor was there were some external forces as well. As if to confirm one of his aides moved up and whispered in his ear before rushing out of the tent.

"Ah, well it seems our Commissioner from Riflor has arrived." He shook his head. When the First Order went humanitarian, it spared no expense. "Do you know when the locals were invited to arrive?" The Major glanced down at his timepiece.

 

[Valae Heavenshield]

Objective 2 & 3
Allies: [member="Valessia Brentioch"], [member="Nathaniel Barrett"]
Post: 3

Hyori Tal sat silently, her dark eyes focused on the screen of her datapad. She looked like she might have been reading something very lengthy and important, but in reality, she was just avoiding the gazes of the Zabrak, the droid, and the Devaronian. Agent Tal did not like to be social, she despised small talk, and she hated the constant laughing sounds that the other women made around her. It was true; she was a woman that desperately lacked a sense of humor. A person that made a brick wall look like Miss Congeniality. However, today she would make an attempt at appearing normal.

Yes, today she would make an attempt...

Under the name Mako Miura, she was posing as a personal aide to [member="Valessia Brentioch"], a representative of the First Order government. She had dressed the part, clad in a smart looking blouse, blazer and skirt. Her dark hair styled in a fairly trendy fashion, and her face made up in a natural manner. The agent had come prepared to perform her administrative duties for the day, and also for the possibility of danger. A blaster pistol cleverly concealed beneath the fabric of her skirt. After all, she was not simply there to take notes for Lady Brentioch.

From what she could gather, Valessia seemed a fairly pleasant woman. However, Hyori did not think the same of the company she kept. These women were strange, and she found their incessant giggling highly irritating. “Yes, Lady Brentioch.” She said, offering a smile as she began to gather her things. Hyori set the requested equipment into a business-like brief case and threw the strap over her shoulder. Silent footsteps brought the agent to Valessia’s side, more than ready to leave the transport and the giggling behind them.

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Post: 6/38
Location: Xal 3
Allies: [member="Basileus isauros"]
Enemies: unknown
Objective: Help in the construction of a shipyard on Xal 3 (objective 9)

"No sign of tactical display malfunctions, captain" the chief engineer told Dunames.

"After Castameer, the manufacturer of the tactical displays in use here has issued a recall notice: did we actually heed it?"

"Yes, captain"

"Then the FIV Excubitore's bridge crew is asleep at work. Try again later"

Galactic regulations demand that every ship with the ability to launch fighter squadrons need to have a tactical display up to certain standards: they need to display everything that is available on a transponder, also the amount of damage the ship has taken, both shields and hull, and have the ability to range as far as long-ranged weapons can effectively fire at, as well as picking up individually thousands upon thousands of such targets - Ringovinda Systems didn't plan for the sheer scale of the space battle on Castameer and Marcia had only herself to blame. She expected only what she thought would be fine when engaging about 30 km-vs-30 km, that is, roughly one-quarter of the scale of Castameer. About 4,000 targets or so, most of which would be attack craft. But Castameer proved that it required a whopping 15,000 targets to cover all tactical situations that would arise over an operational lifetime.

 

[Garett Van]

----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----​

Location: Tel'erra, Central Deployment Site​

In Vicinity/Affected:​

[member="Rolf Amsel"]http://starwarsrp.net/user/11442-valessia-brentioch/ | @First Order Military | @First Order Government​

Objective(s):​

Objective 2: Provide medicinal aid to the tribes of Tel’erra​

Objective 3: Make contact with the tribal leaders of Tel’erra​

and ensure the First Order earns their trust.​

Post: 2​

----- ----- ----- ----- ----- -----​

​

Upon reporting to the Major as ordered, and collecting his Platoon's, Garett look a bit confused as well as shocked the Major would allow the locals to look inside our Walkers. I mean it was just children but still that was State technology and what if some were spies for other factions, or worse, but being a good soldier Garett acknowledged his orders, left the tent to pass them along to his men. As he walked back to his AT-ST he could see the camp was just about finished being prepped for the locals to arrive, he also took the time to try to figure out who would be putting their Walkers on "display."​

​

Grabbing his comlink out of his pocket, Garett relayed the orders to his platoon. "I want walkers 1 and 3 to be placed on display next to Pediatrics. Everyone else take up standard patrols around the camp. *In a tone of sarcasm* Oh and watch your language." ​

His platoon all replied in an affirmative, some with a hint of laughter. Once he got back to his walker, and climbed aboard, Garett proceeded to move it to the Pediatrics area, where some of the Stormtroopers set up an area for him and one of his Sergeants to "display" the walkers. He turned to his gunner gave him a look then told the young private to disable the weapons systems. The private returned with a look of disbelief.​

​

"I'm sorry, you want me to do what Sir?" The private asked Garett​

​

"I want you to disable the weapon systems on our walker private."​

​

"Sir you do know if we get into combat it will take a few minutes for them to reinitialize."​

​

"I'm aware of that Private, just do it, orders are orders."​

​

"Yes Sir."​

​

Garett was just as uncomfortable about this as his gunner was, what if these locals turned out to be like a repeat of Endor, these two walkers would be sitting ducks, they could be destroyed, or worse stolen and used against the camp. Even though he opposed these orders, Garett, climbed out of his Walker, took off his helmet, so the kids could try it on as well. It would give them a more realistic feel to being a member of the First Order Armor Corps. Garett let out a sigh, and then noticed the rush of children massing next to his and the other walker. The noise of children asking questions over each other was so loud, Garett almost wished he was back in the transport breaking atmosphere again. Using his military discipline he calmly asked the children to be quiet so he could organize how to answer all the questions, as well as allow them up into the walker.​

​

One local parent stood out though, she walked over to Garett as her daughter climbed into his Walker with his helmet on. ​

​

"Soldier?" She asked​

​

"Yes?"​

​

"What is it, that this thing is made to do?"​

​

"Well miss, this is called an All Terrain Scout Transport." Garett continued to tell her small details of what it's uses are, but keeping out important details, as he was a cautious man. The woman just nodded as he talked, and waited for her daughter to exit. When her daughter was finished, the woman turned away gave a weird nod, then walked away with her daughter. This put the Lieutenant on edge a bit, and now he couldn't stop thinking this was even more a bad idea.​

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Post 4
Objective 2a

TIE Fighter Hangar Bay, Resurgent-class Star Destroyer Concordia

Strictly speaking, Pierce Fortan the Third was not on duty. He had been booked into one of the posh dignitary state rooms -- he liked to think, as a favor for his work and in recognition for his injury during the Omega Crisis, but realistically, probably as a favor to Colonel [member="Roderik von Brinkerhoff"], who had gotten tired of the constant calls, texts, and visits with Pierce complaining about how bloody bored he was cooped up without anything to do or anywhere to go.

Pierce was grounded, naturally, as his broken leg healed and he endured the physical therapy that would get him back into the cockpit. He had promised to stay out of the way, and so he had done.

Mostly.

For the moment, he swung himself along on his crutches down the corridor to the turbolifts and punched a key, which would take him to the main fighter bay. He hobbled through the ready room and into the hangar, where he spotted [member="Daxin Novari"] working on something on a starfighter. There was no way to approach stealthily, so he didn't bother. Besides, Bartoo -- that is, Pierce's BB-10 unit BB-10R2 -- was rolling along beside him, and he was a noisy little jerk of a droid.

"That's going to wreck the aerodynamics, Novari," he said waspishly to [member="Daxin Novari"] as he nodded at the rectangular pod doo-dad he was carrying towards [member="Greta Kohler"]'s atmospheric fighters. "Bad enough Kohler's taking TIEs, created by God himself to fly in space into the atmopshere, you're going to give it a toy-hauler? Good lord." He leaned closer. "By the way, come up to my room when your shift is over; I've got the stuff for you."

 

[Daxin Novari]

Objective 2a - You get a leaflet dispenser, and you get a leaflet dispenser! Everybody gets a leaflet dispenser!
Post 4

TIE Fighter Hangar Bay, Resurgent-class Star Destroyer, Concordia

"You should really read the updated manuals once in a while, sir." the Senior Technician said with an exaggerated sense of self-worth as he razzed the flying Captain. Many of [member="Pierce Fortan III"]'s fellow pilots had taken guesses as to whether or not Daxin was certifiably crazy, and really thought himself some kind of Senior Technician In Charge. He conducted himself with the confidence of the General of the Starfighters, yet had the authority of a janitorial stormtrooper.

"This here is a TIE Striker. God revamped the design!" He appreciatively stroked a hand across the straight line of the TIE's solar collector panel 'wing'. It used a different material than traditional TIE wing panels, and was calibrated for optimum use in atmospheric conditions. It was capable of space flight, but faltered behind traditional space-borne TIE Fighters in terms of deep space propulsion.

"These toy haulers don't explode. That's some kind of upside, don't you think? At least an upside for Captain Kohler. Generally we don't load these things up until they're planet-side anyways."

He chuckled a little too loud as he made an explosion gesture with his hands. "That tends to happen when externally housed explosives meet planetary reentry heat levels." Daxin stifled his laughter as he realized he was talking to a post-injury Pierce, whom might not find the humor in talk of exploding TIE Fighters - especially not when flown by one of Pierce's favored compatriots-in-cockpit.

"Sorry. Yeah, I'll be over after shift to collect that stuff." He finally let out sheepishly.

 

[Basileus Isauros]

Post: 7
Location: Xal 3
Allies: [member="Dunames Lopez"]
Objective: Objective 9

"What I assume were Resistance bandits were attempting to hinder our operations in the area. All hostiles have been neutralised and the last of them is currently being held for questioning. I had the construction crews in quarantine while questioning, and they are returning to construction," Basileus communicates to Dunames.

"I apologise for my communications system, we recently underwent repairs and have just returned to active duty. It seems we were given poor equipment and it managed to be unseen by diagnostics."

"My ship will stay in the sector until construction is complete as a gesture of good faith to the Iron Crown Enterprise workers. We have surprisingly taken little damage from the encounter, so we are ok to assist."

 

[Saffron]

[Objective 1: Help import exotic fauna to Trenwyth and turn the planet into a place of vacation and enjoyment for the First Order populace!]
Post: 2

Objective: 1 [Terraform Trenwyth]
[member="Mir Nehrahn"] [member="Ludolf Vaas"]


"The pleasure is all mine, Supreme Commander Vaas," Saffron would reply, promptly giving a small bow in deference and greeting. Her soft, cordial smile would broadened once she rose, cheeks pink in pleasure at the praise.

"Thank you. PharmaTech and Mara Tibx have come through great lengths and research to be able to provide this service. Ultimately, we are nothing without our Researchers and developers much like Mir Nehrahn here." the blonde would introduce the Ithorian as he had warbled his own greeting.

"He can only speak in Ithorian, but we have his translator and I am more than happy to aid in it as well." Saffron informed the First Order Supreme Commander. Truth be told, he was quite a sight to behold in person. It was no wonder that word had it his heart had already been won by another.

"Thank you for your hospitality. " Saffron continued, "I am sure you have plans for Trenwyth. What are they and how may we help?"

 

[Natasi Fortan]

Post 5
[member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Darell Irani"]

The speeder accelerated as soon as the entourage was aboard, and Natasi pulled out her datapad once she had heard Graf's response. "Ah -- well, he doesn't spend a lot of time on Dosuun, as it turns out. Much of Iron Crown Enterprise's affairs are out this way. They operate in what was once Fringe territory," she added distractedly as she scanned her e-mails on her datapad. She crossed her legs and rested the datapad against her leg sot hat she could read it. "I only ask because Iron Crown operates the new shipyards there -- thought the Navy might have some contact -- but no time like the present."

She was content to pass the rest of the brief ride through the secured streets of the city towards the Iron Crown Enterprises building. The complex was massive, dominating much of this side of the city, with its two fin-like towers extending into the sky, reflected in the riverfront that passed nearby. They arrived in a secure garage, where Natasi was greeted by the emissaries to which [member="Darell Irani"] had earlier referred. As they changed pleasantries in the elevator, Natasi handed her datapad back to Greye Malvarn, who tucked it into the attaché case he carried. When they emerged from the elevator, they were led to a conference room. The emissary who had greeted them asked that [member="Tanomas Graf"], [member="Viktor DuSang"], and Greye make themselves comfortable in the conference room so that Natasi could say a quick hello to the CEO before negotiations began.

The Grand Moff was thus led into Irani's office. She paused in the doorway, glancing around the room with a thoughtful frown before nodding her head in apparent approval, her bobbed hair barely moving. She approached Irani on the other side of the room, careful to refrain from speaking before knowing he wasn't on a call with anyone at the moment.

 

[Rexus Wenck]

Post: XIV
Objective: VII: Taking out a blaster emplacement with my boy [member="Asharad Graush"]
Location: What are doing in this swamp?!

Rexus nodded, and began to take off the exosuit, "Do you want me to leave it here boss?" he asked, "Or do I have to heave it with us?" he asked. As the enemy began to counter attack the First Order's forces, the stormtroopers began to fight back. The Gunners used their shear brute force to hold the enemy back. The speed and strength granted to them by the exosuit assisted in crushing the enemy through sheer force and brutality that had not yet been experienced by the anarchist fighters. Snipers who held back began to open fire into the melee, managing to stem the flow of enemy forces quite well. Rexus stood back up, and began to fire, "Hold 'em back boys, we've got them here! No one karks with the Gundark Gunners!"

 

[Asharad Graush]

Location: Annaj Swamp
Objective 7: Resistance Bustin'
Allies: [member="Rexus Wenck"]
Post Thirteen.

"You keep it on," he answered distractedly as he watched him start to take the exosuit off. He wanted him to get used to the weight.

"Follow me inside. The other platoons will be breaching the other side while the rebels are busy with us," A'sharad explained, and he brandished his lightsabre again and with a force aided leap, he jumped over the heads of both the White Wolves and the Gundark Gunners, a light brush of his gauntlet on the Hydrastaff on his belt, it uncoiled from him, and leapt to attack one of the rebels that almost fired on him.

On his other side, the golden lightsabre cleaved a rebel in half as he made his way over the bodies and rubble into the bunker.

"Forward!" He said, there was a single answering cheer from the White Wolves, and they surged forth like a white wave against the dark, earthy colours of the swamp. He thrusted forwards, light armour, or skin, whichever it was, it didn't really matter what sort of classification it was when the lightsabre had already burned a hole in you, now did it?