Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

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What're You Doing In My Swamp? | First Order Invasion of Galactic Alliance Held Dagobah Hex

Hex M, 50 GSM \\ Dagobah
Over Dagobah ground | Present Time | Objective Blue
First Order Security Bureau Operations Task Force
Allies: [member="FN-6767"], [member="Rexus Wenck"], [member="Kyrel Ren"], [member="Emilia Ravel"] and The First Order
Enemies: [member="Nuuc Lapt"], [member="Lyra Sunfell"], [member="Kip Hollaran"], [member="Sol Stazi"], [member="Lokthra Dawning"], [member="Airi Tobec"] ,[member="Qymaen sil Jurai"], [member="Stephanie Swail"], [member="Mathieu Bahreiko"] , [member="Tiland Kortun"] and the Galactic Alliance

Music: Death of Ase (Unfortunately it's the cleanest sounding version I can find, but I think you'll enjoy it while reading along.



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I’m so stupid; why am I so stupid; who let me be this stupid? The thoughts playing in her head became less and less continuous or focused as dread pooled. Not for her own sake. As a very specific, specialized IFF tag went into a critical status it began to warble red upon the corner of the Major’s HUD while making a scantily detectable warning ping at a interval. It did nothing but cause her heart to pump that much faster, and so she squelched the function. According to the sensor the hunters were nigh upon the site. So engrossed was she in this task that all else was ignored, including what sounded like the rumbling of rich voice asking, “Are you hurt?” Something that could travel past the swamp at that distance could not be natural, and the hunters had no time for tricks or distractions. Frenzy just so barely touched upon her mind as the misshapen husks and the occasional corpse laying in water played upon primal fears. It was a dank, mysterious, and deceitful terrain, and the Major pushed herself to the pinnacle of speed in sprinting through treacherous boughs and crooked vines.

More bodies and stinking death ahead. This time they were interwoven with dew slicked chunks of sheared armor plating. Embers floated on and between the nooks or sizzled gracefully upon wet bark. Then she saw it. The hulking remains of a First Order gunship was being lifted off the ground before careening forward into some unknown target. Visually it looked like a phantasm with the eerie cloaking of the fog, but the lead Huntress was more than trained within the arts of the Force, or in her interpretation —the White Current. It flared with the barely contained power of a coming storm. Palpable in hatred, it most likely could be felt by force sensitives unlucky enough to be waddling upon this planet —if they were able to pinpoint such things when so close to a nexus of dark side energy. Regardless, the hunters happened upon the scene just as violent intentions tore the heavy craft up and out. Like leaving a telltale scar, a number of massive trees and vines were torn free from the muddy dirt. Collapsing, jagged, these husks of ancient life would pose a lethal propositions to those not quick enough to duck away. Leaves and vines fell with aplomb, a veritable quagmire as they whipped against fellow tree or trooper without distinction. But all this chaos had provided an unintended boon: the fallen Station Chief’s body was not directly struck by the cacophonous chaos. Instead, the wicked trucks tripped into such a way as to make an impromptu barrier between the casualty and the threatening disidens of the swamp —lucky roll of the galactic dice or subconscious machinations of the dark side: such were not determinable at this time. The Major, however, was not hindered by such silliness, for the mess only made a natural rampart for the crash site on (from the perspective of her approach coming from Imperial lines) on the far side of the crash site and its left flank which were impassable without going around and wading through deep swamp on either ends. The right and the approaching angle also had a number of shattered obstacles but they could be slid or crawled over. In this way the Ren and their enemy were separated from the wounded agent for but a moment. Calm could so briefly transpire before more violence or a mortar shell struck the meager clearing, which was only really a clearing thanks to the crushing element provided by the recently departed gunship as it crashed.

“Target sighted: cover me, comrades!” Boomed the red caped huntress, and her compatriots obliged by using their jump-jets to “pop” into positions just ahead of their leader. At the ready and frightened to the point of killing on sight for any hostile foolish enough to not stumble into the arena without lethal purpose, these deathtrooper looking specimens would first have to be dealt with as they covered the pitiful position. As for the chrome plated officer, she was already at the side of the crumpled Chief. Stabbing her parasol into the ashen ground just to her left, she nigh babbled a string of sequentially cutting combination: beginning with gasps, a child-like mumble, and self-targeted scoff. Eventually, as the Major fell to her knees she settled on what was frankly the most understandable reaction.

“Emilia! Emilia!” She begged, gabbing near the Chief’s chestplate where it latched on to the neck portion of the bodyglove and shook it as softly as she could manage, trying to rouse the operative’s attention.

“It's not bad —you're fine. Nothing a bacta tank can’t fix. We just have to get you there quickly.” Lied the Major. The biometric alerts were correct and already triple checked. Officer Ravel had lost too much blood and sustained too much internal organ damage from the sheer number of lacerations and various forms of trauma: including shattered wounds typical of slugthrowers, burn marks, blunt force damage, and what appeared to be a gash that most likely indicated a concussion. It must have caused immense pain, the sort only the most determined could survive.

“Major, there’a be’a storm coming. I can ‘ear thoonder distinct.” Murmured one of the hunters. He wasn’t wrong. Rain started to fall and now that it was mentioned the huntress could also catch the distinct chime of rumbling thunder spiking sharply at closing range. Thick, cold drops began to permeate the area, threatening to turn the firm dirt into even more mud. She chose to ignore that and aimed her helmet directly at the fallen.

“Emilia, I would have come sooner. . .but I was. . . I was ah-. I was afraid. You said never to buh-bu-bother you again. And I wanted to comply. I’m sorry.” Struggling to see as droplets streaked down the infamous helmet while feeling the pressure pushing like a vice on her own chest caused her to shudder uncontrollably. Everything suddenly became too claustrophobic. Grabbing unto the seals of her chrome dome, she pulled it free and laid it crown-down in a puddle. Sybil looked fraught, blue eyes looking so bright while spread wide in concern. It was strange to see her look at something without a hint of irony.

“You never belonged down here in the trash with garbage people or rubbish friends; you always did your best amongst the stars, soaring over the rubble below. Em. . . ever since that Primeday it’s been like a waking nightmare -living as a Walking Curse. I don’t what possessed me to get Ennike first before seeing you. I think I wanted to be your hero. Swoop in. Save you again. Seem like a good friend and helpful person. You were right about me. I’m just… awful.” Sybil wiped her at her cheeks with the back of a gauntlet, further turning them red. Which was odd, the rain kept streaming down her face regardless.

“But this time you’re getting out. I’m going to carry you out, and once you’re healed you’ll never see me again. You’ll resign with honors, or switch exclusively to running another ship like you were best at. You’ll be free.”

Rummaging in her belt, Sybil heaved as though choking up. She produced syrettes for use on the field with numbing, healing agents to stabilize a patient. These were not standard issue in the First Order, and the vials were filled with a substance of inky darkness.

“It’s ju-just like Naboo again, Emilia. The first one is similar to morphine, and it’ll whisk the pain far away.” Miss Ravel, unable to move enough at this point regardless, had no choice as the Fallanassi pushed the syringe into her fallen friend’s neck. Sybil bit her lip, bringing the second dose to her fingers and nearly dropping it as the hollowness within her heart grew to a measure so immense she did not even wince as lightning ripped across the foggy sky above them. The syringes were both filled with the same thing. Two doses would overdose and kill the recipient —especially when the one receiving was a lithe as the Chief was.

“Th-this one will put you to sssu--- sleeee… s-s-sleep and accelerate the coagulation process in your body for healing. Okay? And then I’ll carry you out.” She injected the second one now.

I’m so sorry I’m the last face you’ll see.

“Our technology is superior, Em. You’ve seen it yourself. You’ll be right as the rain in a few days.”

I’d pray to a God who’d listen, if only one lived. I’d give anything right now to save you, because you’re better than anything I’ll ever be.

“Once you’re free, you’ll never have to see me again. So before we get you evacuated, c-c-can you tell me something? Do you like flowers? I love them. D-d-do you have a f-f-fav -ah- *sob* favorite? It’s j-just something to remember you by when you’re living a swell life with a real family.”

Mercy. Sweet mercy. Let her see dreams.

Sybil waited for the end.





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Elsewhere

The frigates were going to be overwhelmed, and rather than maintain the ground they began to evade and maneuver to flee. So far only a company of Imperial stormtroopers had been recovered. Warning alerts were sent to the forces in the swamps to start bugging out. Meanwhile, a few of the TIE raptors detected and fired upon what appeared to be a deploying droid army. However, do the fast nature of their movements confirm kills or even damage could not be ascertained. The crash site where Blackhole 3-3 careened from hyperspace into Dagobah dirt was now lighting in a massive fire as fuel spread from the trees. Seeing as there were no survivors, it was probably for the best that they didn't personally have to experience the torment of burning alive.

Bleak was a perfect word to describe this day.


Please note that all ships are IN MOTION at high speed. -accuracy of fire +evasion
FOSB Operations Task Force:
FIV Tortuga
Nightgaunt Class Stealth Corvette(x)
Shields: 100/100
Hull: 100/100
Status: Scanning ships over sector in low orbit

FIV Tirade
Boneshatter Class Assault Frigate (x)
Shields: 97/100
Hull: 81/100
Status: Nominal, CAS

FIV Hemwick
Boneshatter Class Assault Frigate
Shields: 96/100
Hull: 99/100
Status: Nominal, CAS

FIV Carousel
Boneshatter Class Assault Frigate
Shields: 0/100
Hull: 0/100
Status: Destroyed, all hands lost

FIPV Beat Siren
Kerunos System Patrol Vessel (x)
Shields: 91/100
Hull: 90/100
Status: Nominal, Armed I&R

FIPV Blackhole 3-3
Kerunos System Patrol Vessel
Shields: 0/100
Hull: 0/100
Status: Destroyed, all hands lost
 
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Location: Dagobah -> Swamps (Location Unknown.)
Primary Objective: Search and Rescue.
Secondary Objective: Advanced Reconnaissance.
Allies: The First Order, The Golden Company.
Enemies: The Galactic Alliance.
Equipment: See NPC unit Submission.
Complement: Two Phaethon-Class Gunships, and One Sun Guard 'Legion.'

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An ever-shifting constellation of agony danced before his darkened eyes, as the Golden Tribune sought to rouse himself from his swampy tomb. Pained ripples of anguish ran up the length of his rib cage and left him with the sensation of hot knives piercing his flesh. He had taken the full, brutality, discharged by the scattergun after his shields had collapsed, and it was only by the anti-concussive playing in his power armour - that he was still alive to regret his choices. He should’ve seen the man’s weapon, but was so focused on killing the only visible threat. It was a mistake that the Sun Guard would never make again. At least, one that he would never willingly make again.

Clenching his pearlescent teeth in a vain attempt to hold back the pulsating torture that afflicted his muscular frame, Khonsu dug his golden talons into the surface of a nearby tree. Taking a moment to scrabble for purchase, the powered digits dug deep into the bark, giving the wounded mercenary all the leverage he needed in order to pull himself to his feet. Grunting, and then gasping, like he had nearly drowned the tidal current of his own suffering, the Sun Guard took stock of the damage.

His armour was puckered by nearly two dozen impact craters, several of which had bent the armour plating around his ribcage - which in turn had forcibly penetrated through the armour’s undersuit and into the Thyrsian’s rib cage. Thick, crimson rivulets poured into the brackish waters, only to be greedily sucked under the surface by the gently rolling tides spurned forth by the tectonic aftermath. He had to deal the wound. There were innumerable ways to die, and from an infection, despite the miraculous advancements in medical technology, was the most embarrassing. His pride couldn’t allow for such a lethargic sin to despoil his flesh. Thus, Khonsu gripped the bent golden plate and tore it from his armoured frame.

Like the now silenced Banshee before him, the Sun Guard howled in pain.

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With the shrieking Rodian now impaled by ferromagnetic quarrels and resting within the swirling quagmire’s embrace, the remaining Sun Guard’s turned their attention towards the woman who had awkwardly greeted them moments before. She was previously considered as a non-combatant, and a soon to be hostage - but in the moments following that howling alien’s death - that woman cemented herself as a credible threat.

As the multiple-barreled handcannon came over the sweeping metallic hull of the shuttle, there was little time for the nearest Sun Guard to react. When the moment had come, and her finger slipped atop the trigger, the projected barrier that encapsulated the Thyrsian warrior flared crimson - as the capacitor was brought to the brink. Mere seconds later, as the woman vanished and reappeared once again, the shield collapsed in a shower of sparks and vaporizing plasmatic condensate. Though unheard by those around him, the Golden-clad Mercenary shouted a dozen curses and obscenities, as he dashed away from the shuttle and out of the hand cannon's reach.
The others, who had watched their comrade dash towards the trees and had heard the cacophonic discharge, knew that they were pitted against someone who knew what they were doing. A vastly different and drastic change from those who came before. They would have to adapt their tactical approach accordingly. To that end, the Cohort’s commander, a Centurion by the name of little importance, had barked out a ceaseless stream of orders that saw the remaining members of his unit to keep their distance and surround the gunfighter. The Golden Company had the advantage of distance weaponry on their side, as well as that of numbers since they had managed to cull her companions.

It was merely a matter of time now.

Either the woman would run out of shells and run dry mid-stride, or the capacitors on their encapsulating barriers would fail - leaving the Sun Guard’s easier prey for this woman to put down. Whatever the future held, the Thyrsian warriors moved with practiced ease and began spreading out around the shuttle - seeking to deny the woman of her mobility and cover. She would only linger behind cover for so long, before rousing herself from behind either the ship or the stump of a nearby collapsed tree. It was quite the bounding pattern, as it kept the gathered sellswords on their toes. Where would she pop up next was one of the most prominent, and collective, thoughts that rushed through their minds.

As the unseen, and charged potential began to climb within the brackish atmosphere, the Centurion, after having checked his nigh-unreliable sensors, knew that they would have to move quickly. Dagobah was famed for its intense and hellish lightning storms, which, was a death sentence for anyone that was caught out in the open. Especially if they were clad in powered armour, and shielded by an all-encompassing bubble of their plasmatic deflector screen. Moving with all the alacrity their armoured forms could muster - the Sun Guard’s sought to overwhelm their target with a torrent of ferromagnetic quarrels, and chew through whatever cover she sought to dart behind.


| [member="Tryp West"]. |
 
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Objective: Hold the First Order
Allies: [member="Ever Dawnracer"] @Tiland Kourtun [member="Jak Sandrow"] [member="Jyoti Nooran"] [member="Yuroic Xeraic"]
Enemies: First Order [member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="The Major"] [member="Therran Graush"]

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Step one here was easy. The Pathfinder nodded. “Roger that, Actual. Complying.” The Sullustan had no issue. Grabbing a few of his own men he nodded. It was time to start the show, looking back at the Jedi that was leading them into battle, and knowing there were at least two Jedi Sentinels between them and cave. The message would go to them, and that was where the tools for the job were. Looking to his men, the alien nodded once more. Time to get moving. His own men grabbed their weapons and looked at the firing going on behind them.

This was the task they were given, they could keep fighting after they handled this mission. They turned to move quickly and make their way back to the cave.

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His blade was humming with the sounds of the energy and the sizzle of the humidity in the atmosphere. He knew that sound, that feeling. And that other one? The one of the Force surrounding his body and increasing his finesse and reaction time? That was the Force assisting the Jedi Master. It was protecting him, surrounding him, penetrating him, and making him ready. The Dark Side was here, and he knew it needed to be removed from this world.

The dark side was crawling around him, and he knew that was the Cave. It was just dark, it wasn’t focused, it wasn’t greedy, and it wasn’t determined, but there was the feeling of that as well. The Starchaser was excited, he knew that the Force was with him, and would help him burn away the dark with the light.

He was Corellian, he was not worried about odds. The men and women with him were able to take the fight hard, and win the day. He knew they were here to support liberty and the goals of the Alliance, and the Republic that came before it. He knew they were here to allow everyone under their care the ability to choose their own lives. They were not to be forced like some First Order pawn in a war.

He was a warrior. Making his way to the enemy, ready to take the Ren and Sith, and remove them from this world, repel them from his territory. With each step, the Force rippled and shook, it was alive, and it was electric. From him, words were not needed, he had the Force. And it was the most powerful ally and message he could ever use. Starchaser had learned of the dark side in a past life, but he knew the light now.

More were coming, from both sides, but it didn’t matter. All that mattered was the Force. And its message. He could feel the dark, and the light, the troopers, and the pilots. The dropship and the jungle. Healthy and wounded. The dropship, moving. The feel of the Force around it. Reaching out as well, the Corellian nodded, the ship was not going to be moving, he could feel it. The Force was with him, and he was spooling it around him.

He was a protector. Maybe not able to move the ship itself, not without the focus to move things through space in the way of the Aing-Tii. This was not the place for it. But this was the place to cover his own. He could build a wall of the Force, to stop the dropship from being thrown at him. And to buy time for his own people.

He had heard that he was more than he said he was. Superiors had always said no matter what he called himself, his mind, his drive made him something more. And today, he was going to claim that. He was going to act it. The Force, the light side, was going to help him defend his people today. Buy them the time to carry out their mission.

He was a Jedi.

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Elensa Jari

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Allies | [member="Ara Zambrano"] | [member="Samka Derith"] |​
Enemies | The Galactic Alliance | [member="Veino Garn"] | [member="Tanaski Yumi"] | [member="Mishel Noren"] |​
Equipment | Armour | Lightsaber Pike |​

Battle droids surrounded them, metallic similacrums of something not-quite human, plated outer shells dulled and scarred from past battles, each moving with the smooth gait of well-oiled machinery, oblivious to the rot of the swamp through which they trudged. The slender ones carried standard-issue blaster rifles, nothing particularly menacing, but in sufficient quantity to make them dangerous. By themselves, they were of little threat, but their numbers made them more of an issue - such that even a Force User could not afford to be complacent at the danger they represented. Just a single mistake, and even the most amateur opponent can prove lethal.

Ara reacted faster than Elensa could have expected, somehow managing to manipulate the waters of the swamp around them into a wave that crashed against a close squad of droids with crushing levels of force, bowling them from their mechanical feet and no doubt short-circuiting the cheap components that were contained within their armoured shells, to render them useless and non-threatening. Others were rendered less impotent, and opened fire, their red bolts sizzling through the fetid air, though the Force Users merely sidestepped to render those harmless. One of the droids approached and found itself suddenly headless at the telekinetic command of the diminutive Master, while a final mechanical tottered over to Elensa herself, clearly intending to strike at close range what it could not hit from a distance.

Sweeping her pike before her, the young woman took a single long stride forward, boots gliding across the squidgy ground beneath, weapon curving ahead of her. The metallic end of the stave caught the droid across the back of the legs and sent it crashing backwards onto the ground, uprooted but not vanquished. A single click of her thumb while the weapon was in motion, and a brilliant purple blade extended from the other end of the pike, stabbing downwards in a definitive way, cleaving through the armoured plating of the droid's torso like a hot knife through butter. It sparked and gave an indignant groan that faded as it ceased to function, neutralised by the lightsaber blade. One down. Surely you have more to offer us than this?

Stepping across the droid, the Disciple adjusted her stance to hold the pike two-handed, with the purple blade directed forward so as to cover her body, just in case other droids appeared and cared to offer fire - the lightsaber might offer her protection that mere armour could not. When no attack was forthcoming, the younger woman glanced at her companions, to note a new presence, one she had not sensed before, now sitting calmly on the branch of a nearby tree and observing the mess the Ren had made with an amused expression, if Elensa was any judge. Soft clapping followed - perhaps a mockery of their efforts? The girl - clearly this one was girl - dropped down from her impromptu ledge and joined them on the forest floor, chattering all the while.

If ever someone needed a mute button, it's this one, Elensa reflected, her expression turning into a scowl as the newcomer addressed them. I am the one who cannot speak, but this one should not, the blonde noted inwardly. The girl seemed to have a simpler grasp of Basic, such that the Hapan struggled to understand half the words she used. No eloquence, little in the way of the careful enunciation that was more common among her own social circle - this one clearly had a very different idea of what constituted language. And to so casually address the two powerful Masters that stood there...Elensa honestly couldn't tell if the girl had a death wish. If you do, though, I'll happily assist. A simple cut at neck height, and everyone benefits.

Another stepped forward now, a man blazing with the strength of the Light Side, a thing which made Elensa's scowl only deepen. The darkness of the planet had kept his presence muted, but now, standing so close, she could sense it as easily as her eyes might observe him. A dangerous one, but foolish to challenge Knights of Ren on a world as given over to darkness as they are. He was armed, too, she could see that clearly by the lightsaber he carried openly, though the weapon was not activated. Two of suicidal inclination in the same swamp. Sounds like the beginning of a joke.

One she suspected wasn't funny.

Still, Samka's orders were clear, and gathering her own energies, Elensa closed her eyes for a moment, running through the spells she had learned long ago, slender fingers moving to form an intricate pattern in keeping with the technique she had chosen, weaving thought and the Force into a simple mask of mirrors, folding those energies into a blanket that surrounded her and removed her from sight, a simple cloak of dark energy that would keep her from the eyes of those that sought to find her, though they might sense that she was still there. Ara and herself were to press forward, and the Disciple would follow orders, as she had been taught.

She drifted carefully over to the taller of the two Masters, reaching out with a hand and tapping her on the shoulder to highlight her location to the other, indicating that they should press on. It was not for Elensa to be the guide here - she was but to follow commands, as was her place. Samka would have to deal with the chatterbox and the one who stood bright within the Force. Neither Ara nor Elensa might gainsay her in this - if she requested no aid, they had but to follow orders. Onwards we go.
 
Objective: Stop the FO and Ren peeps
Location: Swamps
Allies: GA, [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] | [member="Stephanie Swail"] | [member="Tanaski Yumi"] | [member="Pash Tafo"] | [member="Marl"] | [member="Draven Dursden"] | [member="Jak Sandrow"] | Ever Dawnracer
Enemies: [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Therran Graush"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"]

Well, things went from okay, to bad to worse to okay again in a very short space of time for Yuroic. No sooner had he arrived to assist a soldier, there was screaming for help from an injured First Order soldier, female by the looks of it but Yuroic couldn't tell through the swamp's mist. She must have been on the ground crying out, because he did notice the three Dark Side Force users, one was unmistakably a Knight of Ren but he couldn't be sure of the other two. Yuroic prepared himself for a tough fight when he felt one of them grip the dropship through the Force. He wanted to almost burst out laughing, the thing was huge and ridiculously heavy, there was no way one could lift something that big alone. However, the Dark Side from the world must have strengthen him as it did start to shift, then the Knight of Ren got involved. This was when Yuroic cursed loudly. "Chit! That's a scary sight..."

From there, before it could move anywhere, he felt the presence of another Jedi. Looking at them, he saw them reaching out for the Force. Seemed that they were attempting to stop the Dark Siders from lifting the dropship and send it at them. The thing Yuroic found interesting about Dagobah, it was full of the 'Dark Side' of the Force, at least according the Sith and to the Ren people. Not to Yuroic, there was balance, as much Dark there was Light. It wasn't obvious but that was how the Force worked, balance. Utilising this knowledge, Yuroic reached out to the Force, feeling it through every living thing on Dagobah, creating life, growth through death and a sense of balance washed over him. He put press against the dropship, not to slam it back down on the soldier but away from all of them. Guiding it to the side, Yuroic believed this would be safer for all.

"Retrieve. Your. Injured!" Yuroic called out, grunting as he kept the pressure on the dropship. "I. Don't. Want. To. Kill. Any. Of you!" It was an honest claim. He didn't. Yuroic had only killed five people with the intent of doing so, the rest were in self defence or protecting others. His eyes looked at the First Order people, he could feel their hatred for him and his kind but he didn't hate them, he didn't want them dead. Yuroic just wanted the war to stop before too many suffered.
 

Ever Dawnracer

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Allies: [member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Veino Garn"] [member="Jak Sandrow"] [member="Yuroic Xeraic"]
Enemies: [member="Emilia Ravel"] [member="Therran Graush"] [member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="Varas Kyrel"] [member="The Major"]
Gear: Dawnracer's Gaiter, JSA-VAR, Ranger Armor, Ranger Blaster Stave, Ranger Scutum

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She watched in amazement as the bullets struck the woman in the chest, shattering her armor and spraying blood everywhere. She hadn't actually expected to catch the woman that way. It what just been a last ditch effort to keep the Order from salvaging her. After a moment of gawking she winced as the pain settled in from where she'd been pummeled in Graush's maelstrom. She didn't think taking two aspirin and calling it a day was going to be enough to fix that, but she gritted her teeth and held back her curses.

That didn't last long.

"Feth," she explained when she saw the LAAT rising out of the muck.

She was certain she was about to be crushed but, as Jak arrived, Coren countered the LAAT. She turned her attention to the plant man and slung her stave over her shoulder to leave her only holding the slugthrower and her scutum.

"Jak. Glad you're here. Take on one of them, just distract them or something," she said pointing to Graush and Varas before turning back as the Silver called out.

Let them take their wounded? This was war. War was hell. People died. She didn't know it yet but several of her Rangers were dead, including Jabir, her lifelong friend and most trusted companion. She would hate the First Order for killing him when she found out. But what she did see was one of them moving to the fallen woman, and a line of troopers clad in dark armor moving out to defend them. She lifted her Scutum to defend herself lest they fire and surveyed her surroundings as rain began pummeling them. She was just in time to see a line of trees fallen between them. She didn't like it. She wasn't going to let them get away so easily. The Order was evil, and they'd come expecting casualties. She felt no remorse for giving them some.

The question was, what was the best move to make? With the trees fallen in the way she could try and climb them and get a shot off, but she was certain that she'd be spotted and blasted to smithereens before she could do anything. There was no reason to get herself killed just to take out a few First Order operatives. There would be other opportunities. She still had one thing she could do, as she stood wincing about her back. One thing that might be worthless, but it could also be effective. She didn't know but it was worth a shot.

"Incendiary," she said.

With the rain falling it would at least control the burn. Add in the fact it was a swamp planet and things werent likely to burn as well. But an Incendiary round could do a lot of damage to a person. Or group of persons. Or clothes. It was probably going to be an annoyance more than anything. She lifted her arm and winced when it reached past shoulder height. She definitely needed to see a medic after this. Squeezing the trigger, she sent a blast up above the fallen trees, aiming to rain fire down on the enemy from above. If nothing else it was a pretty light show.
 

Mishel Kryze

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"Bye cutie!"

"She totally hates me, doesn't she?"

"Yeah..."

Mishel was mostly talking to herself and pushed her lips to the side. "Aw, man - I had more jokes to crack about dead people!" She shouted after [member="Ara Zambrano"] and [member="Elensa Jari"]. She let out a loud sigh and drew her attention to [member="Samka Derith"], and then she noticed the snake, "aw what a cute fluffy muffin of death." The former Ren finally had it register in her head just what Samka was going on about. "Oh." Right. Mishel looked at her former master and let her speak her peace and then, "well you didn't teach me to not desecrate the dead, either, so." She shrugged with her hands out, "I mean, Knights of Ren aren't exactly known for their uh, sense of humor or um - y'know bedside manners."

"Yeah, well, since when did I ever follow the rules?" Never. She canted her head a moment to recall the memories.

Mishel stay by my side - as they approached Mustafar. No, I'll go plant the flag - runs into a bunch of droids - and then -falls with style from the rooftop.

Mishel stay by my side - proceeds to run off chasing down some large green monster that was full of ragrets right afterwards.

Mishel stay by my side - runs off into a mob of angry Ssi'Ruuk.

"Okay don't answer that."

In all seriousness, Mishel drew in a breath and exhaled when the words of go, go explore the Galaxy were uttered. "I- Really?"

"Really?"

"Okay, I'd hug you but one snek, and two, you were never one for uh... affection," Mishel felt her nose get a little tingly with emotion, "man I promised myself I wouldn't cry. Force have mercy I was not going to cry." The teenager dragged her hands across her face and looked at her fingertips. "Right, so not even sure if the whole Jedi thing will pan out but I... I appreciate this, more than you know."

"Freedom."

Although part of Mishel knew this was long from over, Samka merely had other goals to meet on this planet. Mishel might be foolish but she wasn't dumb, there was no way she could tangle with three Rens, let alone her former master. Of whom, she couldn't bear to raise a hand or word to. Sentiment and emotional attachment were going to be her downfall, surely. She felt [member="Veino Garn"] just as well as the others, Master vs Master felt like a fair enough fight and she knew Samka well enough to know she wasn't going to get this opportunity again. An opportunity to leave, to explore and actually grow up like a somewhat- okay, let's be honest, Mishel was never going to be normal, ever. But it was a chance to see what she was capable of beyond the restrictions of the Ren. "Oh and one more thing, if you ever run into this crazy Mandalorian chick who went balls deep on Utapau tell her I want my lightsaber back and that I owe her for this." Mishel lifted her jacket and shirt to show the carbon fibre that now patched a good chunk of her abdomen, "anyway, as I've been learning some Huttesse here, let me say koee jeejee manpanh maee." A pause, "may we meet again, Samka, goodbye sister."

The teenager took a few steps back and cast a glance at the Master who had just arrived.

"Yeah, I'm not sticking around for this." She gestured back to Samka, "but a word to the wise, they don't call her Decitus for nothing."

Mishel force sped away from where Samka was, and while on her way to where the nexus felt stronger she tripped over someone. Stumbled, rolled and hit a tree with her boots in the air and head on the ground, body folded against the trunk. [member="Margaret the Grey"] would be the blame, but for now, "ow."


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Objective: protect, defend #mobileposting
Allies: GA
Enemies: FO, [member="Asharad Graush"]

Amidst the fire, flaming burn from the singe on her hip - that small spot where his lightsaber had managed to pierce through the armor weave into green-skin, she felt his panic. Just for a second. The sith might be surprised to find there was no glee or moment of satisfaction on her end. She wondered what did a behemoth like him, a man encased in armor from head-to-toe, save for one hand, have to feel any sort of panic about?

Was he more than just a tool for killing, a beast of the First Order?

Was he more?

She frowned, invisible grip along the vines not wavering. They would seek to tug and pull their prize back to their trunks trees behind the sith. The attempt slowed as the hydrastaff reacted. She was familiar with these creatures, since her involvement with Maalik, a chiss-vong formed hybrid. It was probably why she was able to turn her body and duck her face into the crook of her arm in time to keep it from getting in her eyes. Or in that wound with pivoting just so.

Some splashes of venom spattered along the back of her exposed hand, still gripping her staff. And ooooooo, did it burn. The pain didn't slow her down. Without opening her eyes or lifting her head, the sith would suddenly find an inch of the top soil and mud flung toward his form from the force. It reached from the ground to well over his height.

Yes. The Mirialan healer was essentially throwing mud. But there was no wrestling.
 
Rekha Kaarde, Swamp
[member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Lyra Sunfell"] | [member="Varex"] | [member="Mathieu Bahreiko"] | [member="Jyoti Nooran"] | [member="Veino Garn"]
Gear: Thunderclap | Woebringer | Taozin Amulet | Backpack with bottle of whiskey and a few grenades that she had picked up a couple sticky ones, a few stun ones they were small, and two flash bangs just for aesthetics.




She was behind and knew it wasting too much time thinking and contemplating on what to do. She shook her head again getting the cobwebs out. It was easy here on Dagobah to lose your train of thought even easier when you thought about what was at stake. Yeah it looked like a swamp smelled like a swamp. At that moment Rekha's boot slid into the slick mud, that sound telling her if she pulled too hard she'd be without a boot. "shhhhhccccc" yeah that sound.

She looked down, "my good boots, I think my only boots." She looked up she couldn't see her group "ah feth' she wiggled about until she was slowly pulling the boot out and the mud protested loudly but making its 'voice' heard. The words of mine mine mine echoed in her mind for whatever reason.

Her group was at the crash site, but there was something else. Orders that needed to be carried out. "ok.." Finally free she began to trudge her way into battle.

A little ear worm sang to her 'the ants go marching one by one hurrah hurrah the ants go marching one by one the little stops to suck his thumb and they all go marching down into the ground to get out of the rain bumm bumm bummm. The ants....."
 

Roth Tillian

Guest
R
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[member="Rick Kaloo"] [member="Mazik Stazi"] [member="Mathieu Bahreiko"] [member="Gir Quee"] [member="Cathul Thuku"] [member="Lokthra Dawning"] @Tristam Vos​
[member="Robogeber"] [member="Charlotte Reed"] [member="Hogrum Veed"]​
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"Eclipse One to Knight One," a voice crackled over the comms. Roth frowned and yanked the joystick to duck beneath a protruding portion of the hull. The twelve fighters skimmed along beneath the ventral hull of the First Order destroyer. They'd already hammered its main turbolaser towers with a heavy payload. Farther away, he could see lasers dissipate against the shield envelope. Which, if he wasn't mistaken, was a molecular shield, meaning, that nothing could touch him this close to the enemy ship. Well, not entirely true. Missiles could get through the shield, but who wanted to target their own flagship? He was fairly certain that it was their flagship, at least. No other reason for the smaller ships to be protecting it like that.

"Knight One, I read ya," Roth replied as he pulled up on the controls. The squadron arced out behind the stern of the ship. Engine thrust lit up the cockpit. "Who are you?" He'd never heard of Eclipse squadron before.

"Doesn't matter," the reply came back. "Stealth squadron armed for bear. Coming to your target."

That he understood.

"Confirmed. We'll keep 'em busy."

Heavy spooks inbound. Distract them.

A series of mental clicks echoed through the Force around him. He certainly couldn't pick up any Alliance fighters inbound. He reached out with the Force. A frown etched itself across his face. He couldn't sense them anywhere. They were actually invisible. A slow hiss escaped over his teeth. It was a good thing that they were on their side.

The X-wings raced up the stern of the ship and began their second attack run.

"We'll engage once your squadron passes the bow."

"Copy that," Roth replied. He pushed the throttle full open and the snubfighter hurtled forward. Again, the squadron split into three flights as they buzzed just past the bridge. He couldn't help himself, but stuck a finger out in a dirty hand gesture, raising it above his helmet so that it could be barely glimpsed by those on the bridge before racing down the length of the hull.

Each flight split off to target a different turbolaser tower. Four fighters per tower and two more proton torpedoes per fighter. He still hadn't seen any enemy fighters. For that matter, he hadn't even noticed a hangar. Whoever designed this ship had been asking for fighters to party over the hull. As his targeted tower headed towards him, he squeezed the trigger. Lasers and ion cannon burst spat from the wing-tip and nose of his craft and slammed into the hull ahead. As the gun-tower grew closer, he switched to using the ion cannon to pepper the side of the gun.

Heart-beats echoed in his mind as the tower grew ever closer. His fingers closed around the torpedo trigger. The massive shape grew larger in the computer screen, but that wasn't what he was using. No, he knew their arc and their trajectory, could sense it as clearly as he felt the ships that hung beside him in formation, all launching their own ion cannons and torpedoes.

Something clicked and he knew it was the moment. His thumb pressed the button. The ship shuddered for a moment as two shining torpedoes launched forward and raced towards the tower. He pulled the fighter away from the resulting explosions as they impacted against the target.

Frigate moving in from above.

Roger that. Stay below the destroyer's shield. Make their missiles hit their own ship Diving underneath again.

Confirmed, Knight One.

The other three fighters in his flight peeled off behind him and from the corner of his eye, he could see the other flights pulling away from their own explosive torpedo runs. He rolled his ship down over the edge of the cruiser and ducked alongside the ventral spine once again, using the larger ship as a shield against any return fire.

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Eclipse squadron sped along the route, propelled forward by slinging around the world's gravity well. The pilots stayed quiet as they focused on their target. Even from this distance, they could make out the explosions of lasers and proton torpedoes. The two escorts hung along its side, pushing forward from what it appeared. Each pilot nudged the noses of their ships down so that they slid below the system plane.

They slid beneath the two ships and began their gentle arc back up. They had the bridge set as their target. The last of the X-wings ducked underneath the larger vessel. They darted alongside the bottom, lasers and ion bursts lighting up against the ship's hull.

Energy rippled briefly around them for a moment as they passed through the shield surrounding the ship. Their speed increased and weapons were primed. The proton rockets were prepared. The dull gray metal hull soon stretched out beneath them, but the guns remained silent. The ships spread out from each other as they gradually arced further upwards.

The bridge grew ever closer. Sights were primed and speeds increased until they were pressing on point-blank range. Then each one launched a proton rocket. The projectiles hurtled forward to the control tower of the ship. They hadn't used sensors or computers, but at that close range, they weren't needed. Couldn't miss something right in front of you.

The fighters pulled aside as the aftershocks of the explosions clipped at their wings. They darted over the edge of the cruiser and swung further below.

"Coming below," Eclipse One said through the comms, "Staying near the shield edge. Hull is yours, Knight One."
 
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Allegiance: First Order
Enemies: Galactic Alliance
En route to Dagobah surface in solitude.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=_HpKpkkSWWw​

It rained on Brentaal IV that night. The target's face was crystalline and damp when she faced me. I leaned in and pressed my lips against hers, and the action was not simply motivated by programming, but rather personal desire.

Agent Rinnan's finger scrolled along his datapad, reading through his journal entries. Unlike official documentation, no one in the Bureau but him would see these words. Outside, space was alight in the throes of battle as the First Order and Galactic Alliance fleets smeared the cosmos with sublime carnage. Rinnan was more interested in the space between the errant explosions; the river of emptiness that flowed between the flakes of stars. It was a grim blackness, the all-encompassing Nothing which made up the vast majority of the galaxy, yet factions laid claim to it all the same. It all passed through his pod's viewport as the Agent made his way towards the surface of Dagobah where the stifling swamps awaited.

The blanket of Nothing moved between the ships outside, and Rinnan saw his reflection in the viewport window overlaid behind it. He was Nothing personified.

The target's eyes unfolded slowly and she looked back at me. I could tell she was surprised. But she wanted more.

Rinnan scrolled further along his datapad, moving past a grainy holographic picture of [member="Dahlia"], his previous mission's target. He had no memories of any of these moments. They were destroyed; dissipated by the neuromancy of the Security Bureau to make room for more programming. All he had were the writings which served to remind him of emotions once felt, but no longer. For a man who was otherwise stripped of all traces of humanity and companionship, they were all Rinnan had to remind him of his own beating heart amidst the black void. The words on holo-display were a poor substitute for real feelings, though Rinnan tried his best to articulate his memories while he still held them. And yet, they served their purpose all the same. These memory fragments were the bleating stars that lit the prairie fire that fueled his courage. The things he could never have spurned him on to traverse the Nothing, the eternal void, to serve the First Order until death.

Rinnan loaded his slugthrower pistol. Landing soon.
 
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[member="Coren Starchaser"] [member="Ever Dawnracer"] [member="Rekha Kaarde"] [member="Jak Sandrow"] [member="The Major"] [member="Emilia Ravel"]​
[member="Therran Graush"] [member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="Varas Kyrel"]​
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Tiland stood still, letting wisps of a wind pull at his beard and his hair. The jungle had gone silent once more and his voice lay wrapped deep in mists of the swamp. The figures he sensed had ran off, full of fear, or at least he sensed one. Yet, it was not a bad fear. No, it was a selfless fear. A better word hung on his lips and he nodded. Concern. That was what he sensed.

Great concern, a fear of failure perhaps. There were injured in that direction, he knew. The ship had gone down in that direction. Yet, something else concerned him. The Dark, it blossomed there in such a way that the world itself did not. No, this was someone quite powerful and quite consumed by the Dark. It would devour the figure if he wasn't pulled back.

No, he knew what happened to those consumed by the Dark and he would help any who wished to avoid such a fate, if they would allow. He set off at a run, hiking his mud-stained robes up above his knees. Quite simply, he looked ridiculous, and the greatest danger he posed to anyone was the blindingly pale legs that had previously been hidden beneath the robes. They were old legs.

But no matter, a life hung in the balance. He knew that as clearly as if he could hear it. Lightning rumbled above them, illuminating the dark swamp more than the drifting embers could possibly hope.

He ran. He ran harder than he had in years, boots squelching in the muck and then leaping out, propelled by the Force. Breath burned in his lungs and fire itched along his limps as he drove himself forward, branch to branch. Other life forms around him darted away and hid as the storm began to build above them. Thunder drowned out the distant sounds of battle.

Yet despite that, the Force was still on the planet. Oh, there were ripples and waves that echoed through it, but that was hardly a great distraction. No, the Force was always there and always bigger than mortals could ever dare to dream. It was life and death, each feeding the other for the continuation of existence.

It was not just the Dark that lingered on the world, although it did concentrate around the cave. No, the Light was as strong, perhaps even stronger, for it bound all living things together, and if Dagobah had anything, it was a plethora of living things. Each and every one of them was connected by the Force, an infinite web that encompassed all life.

He finally slid to a stop as a gunship floated in the air in a way that it was most certainly not supposed to. He began to sink into the muck once more, but he grabbed a twisted root with a gnarled hand and pulled himself up onto the brief bare patch.

Two death-troopers with heavy blasters stood there while a woman sat beside another woman. She was badly injured, he could feel her life ebbing away. It tore at him and a sad smile flickered across his lips.

Ragged breaths tore from his lips as he caught his breath, with hands raised, a Force bubble flickered to life around him, in case they decided to shoot at him.

"We... might... yet...save her." Each word was forced out through staccato breaths. On the other side, lightsabers and weapons fired, but that was not the true battle. No, this was the essence of the war between Light and Death. One sought to promote life, to cultivate it, and to see it flourish to its fullest potential. The other craved destruction and death. When they were in balance, they were part of the natural processes of the universe that allowed it to continue to grow and flourish in a never ending circle. Yet when they were not, as now, the Dark strove to consume everything in its pass until at last, there would be nothing left but itself. But then, not even it would exist.

He knelt on the ground and shuffled closer, eyes for the wounds. They were severe. More severe than any he had seen in a long time. Modern medicine was no good here. Nor were his herbs. Only one thing would be able to stabilize the woman.

Tiland took a deep breath and knelt, eyes closed, with his staff laying across his knees. He gripped it in both hands and settled himself into the Force. They were bound together: Tiland, the dying woman, the other woman, the soldiers, those on the other side of the ship. Some blazed outwardly with the brilliance of the Light while others were voids shrouded in the Dark. Others were a blend of the two, as most beings truly were. The universe was far too complex for any to truly be one or the other.

He stretched out his mind, surprised at sensing the other woman's presence in the Force. Yet, he let that drift away and gave a gentle nudge. Help me, if you can. Sense her spirit within the Force. Call to her.

The ancient monk had his own battle to fight. Vitals were deteriorating far too quickly for any attempt of evacuation. The physical signs has to be stabilized as well as the spirit. The Force pooled within his body and spread out to encase the three of them. Its soothing presence flooded through him and would go to the cells of the injured woman.

It would work to knit the damaged cells back together, to coagulate blood in the injuries, and knit torn flesh back together. Organs would be pressed to continue their function as much as possible while his own mind would reach out to the woman's mind, the spirit within the crude matter, to offer an outstretched hand an invitation. Come, friend. Hold tight.

But, that might not be enough. Death was inevitable in the end and sometimes, no matter the healing, it could not be avoided. But perhaps in this case, it could.
 
skin, bone, and arrogance
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[member="Robogeber"] | [member="Hogrum Veed"]​

As warning alarms chimed, Charlotte examined her display table in surprise. "How in blazes -- never mind. All ahead towards Dagobah. Get us between those ships and their shipyards -- if we're going down we'll take some of them with us. Shields up at maximum, double-rear until we get in range of their guns forward. Take evasive maneuvers -- now!" As her ships moved out, the full usefulness of Navaja and Daring were deployed. "Activate missile deactivation transmitters! Stop those missiles!"

She studied the table, tracing the trajectory of the Alliance's mini-jump. "That was a neat trick," said Charlotte to her XO, folding her arms. "Too bad they won't be able to do it again. Deploy our grav-mines here," she said, indicating the command map a position that would make reversing the hyperspace maneuver costly in terms of damage to their ships. "And order munitions to load the ID-84 interdiction missiles."

Her XO chimed in: "Deploying missiles while the anti-missile field is in effect -- "

Charlotte nodded, arriving at the same conclusion. "We'll stagger our salvos," she decided. "They don't teach you this stuff in the academy," she said with a smirk, tugging at her left earlobe anxiously as she studied the map. "We'll lower the field for a short time to allow our missiles to get out of range and hope our shields will do the rest." Inevitably, even with the state-of-the-art missile-deactivating technology working overdrive, some of [member="Mathieu Bahreiko"]'s missiles got through the field; a mechanical warning voice called out over the address system: All personnel, brace positions. All personnel, brace positions. Charlotte herself gripped the edge of the command table as the missiles hit home. "Engineering -- launch our interdiction missiles to the indicated positions. Tell Lochaber not to save their ammo -- anything they can do to distract them."

In response, the commanding officer aboard the Lochaber began firing with great gusto at the

"Calculate the best time for Countermeasures to deactivate the anti-missile field. Five seconds should do it. Get Munitions to confirm."

A moment later, then the XO touched his earpiece. "Confirmed, Commander."

"Munitions, prime your missiles. Increase point defense targeting of the missiles!" They confirmed that the missiles were ready. "Countermeasurs, prepare to disable the field. Lower the field!" She watched the indicators on the board, and when it was safe, she called: "Munitions! Fire missiles!" Charlotte examined the board, watching the little pixels representing the missiles moving away from her task force. The next five seconds were torture as the Commander felt the ship shudder as more missiles impacted on the shields, triggering a damage alarm as the hull felt the impact. Finally, Charlotte called over the alarm: "Get our anti-missile field back online!"

Fleet Actions
Task Force 910 moving away from Alliance Defense Flotilla Azure Star
FIV Daring deployed interdiction mines between the Alliance's new position and the First Order Forces
FIV Daring deployed interdiction missiles at Defense Flotilla Azure Star
FIV Daring deployed missile deactivation transmitter
FIV Navaja deployed missile deactivation transmitter
FIV Lobacher firing all batteries at Defense Flotilla Azure Star, targeting ANS Unto the Breach primarily.

Fleet Status
FIV Daring - Hull: 98% | Shield: 90%
FIV Navaja - Hull: 95% | Shield: 95%
FIV Lobacher - Hull: 96% | Shield: 93%
 
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Tanasuki Yumi

Enemies: [member="Kyrel Ren"] [member="Varas Kyrel"] [member="Therran Graush"] [member="Emilia Ravel"]
Allies: [member="Ever Dawnracer"] [member="Stephanie Swail"]
Objective: Fight Yuric
Post: 4

Tana stood guard next to [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] as the Jedi master held the drop ship in place, preventing it from beinf thrown at their allies, but refraining from focing it back at the enemy troopers, showing mercy to those injured upon the battlefield, an act not darksider would ever give. Looking across the swampy waster Tanas eyes fell onto the fallen trooper, the sweet smell of blood tingaling at his nose, ever present from the recently wounded solider. She would need medical help of some sort, but he not dare try to offer help, such a move being two risky if the present Knights of Ren attack, or if it turned out to be some elaborate ruse to lure in unsuspecting Jedi.

His days as an assassin molding the young boy mind to suspect almost anything from the enemy, even if needed to ignoring certain facts, like someone dying right in front of him, if it meant keeping cover or staying alive, and this situation was no different, all he could do was hope the Ren cared about their own men. Unfortunately he did not have high hops of that, the Jins gaze falling onto one of the leading Rens, [member="Kyrel Ren"] to be exact, not a being willed with much mercy, from his own experience when working with the Master in dealing with some bothersome Alliance rebels and sorties his mother told when the two had dueled in the past.

Now Tanasuki stood opposite to this man dangerous man, no longer a blade for hire who'd swap sides for a simple pay rise, now a full fledged Jedi, Padawan to Junko Ike. Combing all these facts together taking any action would be dangourse, as such all he could do was stand there, offering some sort of defense for the Jedi master while awaiting back up from [member="Marl"], @Asaraa Vaashe and the rest of the ranger company following behind. Fortunately though some troopers came forth and removed the wounded woman, almost as if a brief cease fire hand enveloped the area, hopefully destroying the brainwashed bias any trooper had against the Jedi the Ren and Sith where so fond of using to get people to fight for them, which was suddenly interrupted by a fire ball.

Moving his eyes to the side Tana saw one of the rangers follow through on their throw, draping veins, flaking bark catching alight from the inferno, making some what of a wall between the two forces, the muddy water and damp ground halting the flames sudden and rapid advance throughout the jungle. Despite all this Tanasuki stood his ground, not moving from the defensive stance, ready to counter any attack, or sabre that may come his way.
 
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Allies: [member="Luther Ando"] | [member="FN-6767"]
Enemies: [member="Sol Stazi"] | [member="Kip Hollaran"] | [member="Nuuc Lapt"] | [member="Lyra Sunfell"]
Objective: Run.
Equipment: FO-2 Stormtrooper Armour | Lightsabre | G-11F Rifle | Aegis Shield

NPC: Dergan Twigg

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Rexus waited for the rest of the troopers to begin moving before he began running, ensuring he was the rearguard. Mortars still came thundering down behind, splashing chunks of clay, water, and fragmented tree trunk began to fly at his muddied armour. Rexus' chest heaved up and down, as he pushed forward, in knee deep, sticky swamp water and muck. He kept his eye locked on the trooper in front of him, as they disappeared further into swampy mist.

Rexus tried toggling into his infa-red helm to keep up. But instead, the stormtrooper was blinded by the immediate burst of red. The swamp, all around them, was alive. There was no way to read anything. "Kark." Rexus grunted, that was nearly worse than any form of spice, or steroid he'd ever taken. It was like a real bad trip. Wenck kept percivering, pushing deeper and deeper into the swamp, until he heard screams of 'TANK!' and 'ARMOUR!'

Sergeant Wenck reached for his rifle, and began to charge forward. Heart pounding full of adrenaline. Had his comrades stumbled onto the Alliance recovery team? If so, Rexus would make sure their recovery team returned in body bags. "Argh!" Rexus howled, as he barrelled forward, "Come and get it, you motherkarkers!" The stromtrooper bellowed, catching up to the remnants of his unit. He saw his comrades, crouching, blasters and ordinance ready to send these bastards to hell and back. Rexus slid behind a tree, and readied his blaster, taking off the safety, and steadying his aim to squeeze the trigger.

"Hold!" A voice commanded from his left, Rexus turned, his finger sliding away from the trigger, "Hold fire!" The voice commanded. Rexus turned, and ID'd the source. It was the medic. The Hardy medic who'd saved the marksman who'd downed the gunship. "It's friendly!" The medic barked. Rexus kept his rifle close, and watched as the hovercraft approached the group. It was banged up, but it was identifiable. Hussar-class repulsorlift tank. With its arrival, Wenck slid his rifle into his holster. No one really needed a second reminder, and rushed, piling into the craft.

Rexus waited for the remainder of the men to pile in, and followed up the rear, clambering into the tank. The men of the platoon looked worse for wear. Scars obviously the worst, but the rest of them were smeared with muck, which they trailed in. However, for now at least, the unit had survived. The adrenal rush the stormtrooper had experienced now ended. And now, all Rexus wanted to do was collapse, in a heap. He hadn't seen any combat yet, and now he was buggered. The sergeant unsealed his helm, and groaned.

Rexus' head was a mucky mess. His face was smeared with a mixture of mud, and sweat. His hair, once greased with gel, now speckled with dirt, and reeking of swamp water. The trooper leaned back against the internal hull of the repulsorlift craft, and he reached down, and into his utility pouch. Doing a quick inventory. Lightsaber? Check. Rifle? Check. Shield generator? Check. But perhaps most importantly. Cigarettes. Rexus rifled through his pouch, he was usually meant to put rations in, and tried to cleave out some of those sweet, addictive paper rolls. Instead, he was met with sopping wet rolls.

"Kark." He growled, shaking one up, and down. The roll had become brown with all the swamp water, and now thick globs of black and brown water flew around. The stormtrooper glared at the roll. A moral decision had to be made. What was more important? Having a cigarette here, and satisfying the urge? Or was it having to taste fermented, fetid swamp water. The former felt more important. Acting on impulse had always been a flaw of Rexus' person.

The stormtrooper struck his lighter, a gold and bejewelled affair he'd stolen from some hapless corpse of some GADF private on Kaeshana. With a flickering flame bringing some warmth to his face, Rexus slid the moistened roll inside his mouth. He gagged a little, and winced at the taste. It was repugnant to say the least. It tasted of rot. Rotting wood. However, with a sharp inhale, Wenck felt somewhat back to normal. As thunder began to now crackle around them, Rexus slid further, and further into the transport. A thin trail of steam, and smoke following him, until he reached the cockpit.

Sliding inside, he squatted, and took a drag, "You boys have any idea if we got any of them other stormtroopers around?" he asked, he paused, "The ones we were meant to be saving." Rexus could already tell this was probably all their task force had left. He leaned back, callously sticking the cigarette back in betwixt his lips. It hung lazily from the left side of his mouth, inhaling the sweet, sweet toxicity of the roll, "Or are we gonna be running around in this storm like a buncha headless womp rats?"
 
[SIZE=10.5pt]
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[/SIZE]​

[SIZE=10.5pt]Location[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]: LAAT crash site, near the Dark Side Caves.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]Allies[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]: The First Order, [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt][member="Kyrel Ren"], [member="Therran Graush"], [member="Varas Kyrel"], [member="The Major"][/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt] [/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]Enemies[/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt]: The Galactic Alliance & Allies, [/SIZE][SIZE=10.5pt][member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Ever Dawnracer"], [member="Tiland Kortun"].[/SIZE]
[SIZE=10.5pt]
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The scene played out from afar. Emilia barely registered as the LAAT/i shuddered and shifted. She barely reacted as the metal crutch of the hull was yanked away from her, and she collapsed backwards pathetically into the mud. She did not notice the cold rain, which fell to earth with fury and stung her face. Even as the booted footsteps squelched towards her, she struggled to understand it. She faced the sky, trembling. Her expression pained, but her mind blissfully blank. Dimly, she was aware she was dying, that her life was draining away second by agonising second.

Her jarring return to reality came as the shadowy figure of [member="The Major"] put her hands on the remains of Emilia’s shattered breastplate. She shuddered violently, and recoiled, not understanding who or what her attacker was, but after a moment, her vision sharpened and the face of the Station Chief swam out of the haze. Despite herself, the wounded woman smiled, in a moment she forgot all of the guilt, the fear and the hurt that had knotted and twisted inside her guts since the fateful day on Dosuun, the day she felt her life begin to tear apart at the seams for the first time since her initial forced recruitment into the Order. She did not see the face of a killer, or a betrayer. She saw only her friend, the person she’d desperately wanted to know more about, to spend some meaningful time with. The person that she feared would never see again.

The happiness at seeing her friend was followed by the crushing realisation that this was it. Her mind retained a modicum of clarity, even as her body suffered and gave up. She knew deep within herself that this would be the last time she saw the woman, that there would be no saving her. Emilia would never learn who her friend was, she would never learn her name. Perhaps that didn’t matter in the end. The Major had come to Emilia’s rescue. Too late, of course, they both knew that. The whispered lies and comforting words didn’t fool anyone.

She tried to sit up, but failed. With her head cradled in the woman’s arms, she kept her gaze locked on the wide, dark-blue orbs. As an incendiary round burst over head, erupting in a shower of glittering debris, tears began to well in her eyes. She’d been cruel, unfair. By letting her fear rule her decisions, she’d ostracised the only person who’d ever cared for her. She didn’t have the strength to say any of it, and the guilt roiled within her, threatening to swallow her whole. How had it come to this? How could she be so stupid?

Lying in the mud, finally reunited with her saviour, her hero, she was filled with an intense regret. The many lives she could have lead played on repeat through her mind, faster and faster until they formed a chorus that sung of her ruination. Hot tears streamed down her cheeks, and the gentle sobs she could manage racked her chest and sent spears of agony rippling down her spine. That moment, lying broken in the arms of the dear friend she had scorned, lasted an eternity. A pit of misery had opened within her heart, from which spewed the intense emotions of torment, pain, regret and loss.

All she could do was nod when The Major produced the syringes, and when the cold liquid of the first entered her arm, and its tendrils spread throughout her bloodstream, she felt only calm. Her life had been ruled by fear, the anxiety that she wasn’t good enough, the judgement of her superiors, the other agents. It was the principle motivator in her life, spreading throughout her consciousness until it had infected every aspect of her day-to-day. It had been worse after the purge. She remembered the paranoia, the sinking feeling that she was being watched, targeted. The moment The Major’s visage had become clear to her, minutes ago, the fear that had ruled her life had evaporated. It had been replaced with a sense of belonging she’d craved since she was a little girl.

Too late.

It was much too late, the words echoed around Emilia’s head, laden with the burden of a life wasted, cut short in the blink of an eye, and the bark of a rifle.

Her hand left her side, slick with the life that had been steadily slipping from her body. She felt no anger towards the soldier, she’d done the same to others in the past. With great effort, she raised her hand, placing her palm flat upon the woman’s breastplate, where the word ‘Trash’ was displayed, crudely scrawled in red ink. As she removed her hand, leaving a bloody print obscuring the words, she opened her mouth and spoke.

“I...I n-never meant for... This.” Her words were slurred, pained. The unseen healing did little to help her, she was too far gone. As her surge of strength faded, she settled back, her arm falling and laying across her torso, her body held in the strong arms of the friend who had come to help her. The pain faded away as the drug began to do its work, and her mind began to dull.

Fighting to stay awake, to stay aware, she considered the Major’s question. She did have a favourite flower, it was a beautiful yellow bloom that had grown outside her window, at the academy on Dosuun. She didn’t know its name, but it had made her happy, soothed her as the stress of her training ate at her nerves. As the light faded in her eyes she held its image in her mind.

She settled back, a soft sigh escaping her lips. Her face froze, caught in the half smile she’d given as she’d thought about the blooms from all those years ago. Her body began to shut down, and her mind went blank. Finally, the tether that had secured her in the living world split and came apart, and her essence was released into the Force, ending the painful and struggled minutes that had come before.

Emilia Ravel was dead.
 

Cassus Stoma

Guest
C
Cassus Stoma



Dagobah, Sluis Sector, Outer Rim Territories
Objective: Provide Reconnaissance on FO Frigate
Allies: The Galactic Alliance, [member="Asaraa Vaashe"]
Adversaries: The First Order, [member="The Major"]
The rain poured down over the AECO Troopers and their compatriots within the Galactic Alliance with a fierce intensity. If anything would remind him that this wasn't home, it was surely this. Cassus was in a world of his own now - no longer could he depend on himself to survive, it was now that he needed a team more than ever. For all the greatest technology in the galaxy couldn't save you from an ambush in such an enigmatic environment. A single thumb was offered to the Togruta who offered her support if things didn't go quite as planned. It was likely after all. Who know what the surviving crew had gotten up to in their time of reprieve, if not recovery. The elite team of ten continued to move throughout the dense swamp, finding paths they can no longer trek and obstacles that just cannot pass. It was frustrating to say the least. Yet their destination grew closer, made it's way into eye-sight. A mess, a cacophony of chaos.

Ultimately the crash was spotted, as were they. The Major, the AECO team did not know her true name only such alias, gave a screech to alert her men of the incoming enemies. Whether they were spotted through superior technology, force related insight or purely dumb luck, it didn't matter. Once more had a fight for one's life ensued. Streaks of colorful and bright bolts made their way towards Cassus and his team. The temporary flash of lightning that filled the sky created a still image once the darkness faded; revealing the AECOs for the briefest of moments as they ducked themselves into cover.

They had the advantage, and so they would press it. The clearing, that one would assume existed at a Frigate's crash, left the Storm Troopers or whatever concoction of trooper the First Order had deployed in relatively clear visibility. The Sovereign's elite, however, remained concealed as they returned fire with their silenced slug-throwers capable of dealing as much damage as any ordinary blaster could.

The gut-wrenching, heart-twisting scene that transpired ahead was unknown to them. Despite being the enemy, at a time like that one could only stomach an apology.
 

Diysuperguy33

Smarter than the average bear
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Location: Dagobah orbit (near and above The Major's fleet)
Allies: GA & it's allies | [member="Cathul Thuku"] | Qymaen sil Jurai | Mazik Stazi | Mathieu Bahreiko | Gir Quee | Tristram Vos | Nuuc Lapt
Enemies: FO | Cyrus Tregessar | Sieger Ren Robogeber | [member="The Major"]
Objectives: Defend Dagobah Shipyards at any cost | Engage and disable [member="The Major"]'s fleet

"Admiral Thuku has replied. She said she hasn't heard anything about this new ship and to continue engaging the fleet"

"Curious, the Admiral often has access all the details of hostile and allied ships alike; this just means the mystery ship is all so much more valuable. I want it captured in one piece. As the rest of the fleet is destroyed I want you to find the best way to capture this ship in one piece" Lokthra said in her authoritative command tone.

Before her first officer could reply she had a transmission incoming "Incoming transmission from the Hardtrot, Helios, Heartfolt and Kart. They are in position".

"Perfect. How have the enemy responded?"

"The mysterious ship is still assumed cloaked, if it is, they won't be able to remain cloaked for much longer; that technology just doesn't exist; our top scientists are still struggling to comprehend how long-term cloaking could be applied safely. The remainder of the fleet has put all power to engines; our ships aren't quite as fast as them, but their destruction is still imminent."

Lokthra confused at first as to how her first officer knew these details of cloaking; a question for another day however.

She started by whispering in her first officer's ear "Better phrasing next time. I dislike the idea of destruction at its core it is nothing but darkness. I understand that is what we are doing, but we all have consciences here, we don't need to be reminded".

Lokthra moved back so that the other bridge crew could hear: "Order the fleet to fire all cannons and missile silo's 1 through 4. Tell them they have field command to target whatever ship they want to first"

Lokthra was a firm believer in telling someone what to do; not how. Although a believe she tends to disregard when fleeting, for the pure fact that it was her job, not theirs. However, in small-scale conflicts where she wasn't there, she would have lunacy, telling them what she wanted to be achieved. Leaving the decision up to them; sometimes this worked for the best, others it did not, only time will tell for this particular occasion.

"How long until we are in position? I would like the Karthage to begin orbital bombardment on their ships as soon as possible?"

"Not long now ma'am. All weapons are charged and ready the moment we are in range"

"Perfect. Tell the officer firing the tractor that they have the order to fire at will. If anyone is trying to escape orbit nearby we will capture them and they will face the consequences of attacking a Galactic Alliance protected the planet.

Fleet
ANS Kartharage (Okami Class Heavy Cruiser)
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Orders: Red Alert: Armed and Ready | Moving in high orbit above The Major's position | Fire at will

ANS Hardtrot (Hardcell X Class anti-starfighter frigate)
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Orders: Red Alert: Armed and Ready | Moving to The Major's position | Fire at will

ANS Helios (Hardcell X Class anti-starfighter frigate)
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Orders: Red Alert: Armed and Ready | Moving in high orbit above The Major's position | Fire at will

ANS Heartfolt (Hardcell X Class anti-starfighter frigate)
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Orders: Red Alert: Armed and Ready | Moving to The Major's position | Fire at will

ANS Kart (Kalla Class Missile Corvette)
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Orders: Red Alert: Armed and Ready | Moving to The Major's position | Moving to The Major's position | Fire at will

ANS Kelthrawn (Kalla Class Missile Corvette)
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Orders: Red Alert: Armed and Ready | Moving in high orbit above The Major's position | Fire at will

Actions
  1. 4 Ships have reached and begun engaging The Major's fleet
  2. Karthage and Kelthrawn are still moving to high orbit above The Major's fleet. Tractor beams ordered to fire at will and weapons are almost charged; ready to fire upon arrival.
 

Stephanie Swail

Guest
S
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LOCATION: Swamps outside Fort Nemo, Dagobah
OBJECTIVE: Repel the First Order – hold the line
ALLIES: The Galactic Alliance and allies in vacinity - [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] | [member=Marl] | [member="Draven Dursden"] | [member="Tiland Kortun"]
ENEMIES: The First Order and allies in vicinity - [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Varas Kyrel"] | [member="Therran Graush"] | [member="Emilia Ravel"] | [member="The Major"]
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Stephanie vaulted from a boulder, over a large thick bog of rancid water and sludge, landing on the opposite side a good 10ft away as a number of blaster bolts zipped by her body. She span as she landed and held her blue lightsaber arced across her body and batted three more bolts away. Two shot off into the swamp with a hiss and the other impacted the armour of the Stormtrooper on the other side shooting. At least three or four of them were in the small group she had run into and only two remained.

With a push from her left hand and a small cry of might, she drove a burst of Force energy down into the swamp and sent a mini tidal wave of rancid slurry, water and stone up over the troopers, knocking them down and out amid their cries of despair and disgust.

"Troopers spotted due South-East of Nemo," she shouted into her wrist come attuned to Commander [member="Aryn Teth"] back at the stronghold.

Up ahead, she could hear the voice of [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] once more and a young Padawan - [member="Tanaski Yumi"] – by his side, and an almighty dropship silhouette angled precariously in the air above the ground.

She ran as fast as she could, blade held tight in her hand as she traversed the swampland, and as the evident confrontation came into sight and the Padawan could hear frantic shouts, orders and more blaster fire, she skidded a squelchy stop behind Yuroic.

"I’m with you."

Stephanie raised her left hand and focused on supporting the effort in keeping this dropship up, which felt like an iron weight on her bicep.

"We have to…keep them from Nemo Base. What's happening...here?!"
 
"Grey" is not a crack about my hair color.
Location: Swamps
Enemies: She is her own worst enemy
Allies: The sweet release of death
Objective: Make it stop

It was not entirely accurate to say that Margaret was alive when a booted foot hooked itself on her hip and sent her rolling through the deep muck.

The last several days were a blur. What had started as a search for a hangover cure had turned into a desperate fight her her life, followed by an ignoble flight through the air and a long nap in a ruined storage shed. The aging Master had stumbled around for a few more hours, desperately searching for anyone who had something, anything, to make the throbbing in her skull go away.

Finally, she had stumbled across a dead Mandalorian with a mostly full flask of tihaar, their homebrewed spirits. Margaret had downed it in one long, blisteringly painful chug. More alcohol probably wasn't the solution at this point, but let's be fair, she wasn't exactly in the best shape to make any sort of decisions.

A little more rummaging turned up some field rations, which she wolfed down, but that didn't really do anything for the headache. Well, she called it a headache, but that didn't really capture the scale of the problem. This was a hangover par excellence, a monument to the fact that alcohol, despite its many wonderful properties, is a poison.

The tihaar took away the edge for a little while, but soon the throbbing was so intense, Margaret was ready to start scrounging for a blaster to end it all.

Unfortunately, the only thing she was able to find was a lightsaber, a trophy taken by one of the bucketheads at some point. It seemed obscene to end her misery with the tool of the Jedi. She always knew the Order, whichever one you cared to name, would be the death of her. Damned if she was going to make that a self fulfilling prophecy.

Completely out of options, the miserable woman finally decided to enter a healing trance. Only, she didn't quite get it right. She went far too deep, to the point that her body had, by any reasonable measures, ceased to function. Instead of healing, she had accidentally put herself into stasis.

So when the zippy little girl with the smart mouth discovered her, buried under the mud completely, the hangover wasn't gone. If anything, it was worse.

Margaret sat up, and immediately, her stomach rebelled against the days old rations that had spent their internment in her belly rotting, rather than being digested.

"BLEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEGH!"

The torrent that issued forth was exceptionally foul. Acid and decay, mingled together in a stench so potent it would have put a Hutt off its lunch, spewed from her mouth and nose like water from a hose.

On and on it went, each wretch more violent than the last, even though there was less and less to eject. By the end of it, Margaret was doubled over on her hands and knees, covered in mud and filth. Vomit was everywhere. It was all over the swampy ground, floating on top of the already disgusting mud. It was all over her clothes, her face. It was even in her hair.

"Oh gods," she moaned. "Karking kill me."

[member="Mishel Noren"]
 

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