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

[Tanaski Yumi]

Side: The Galactic Alliance SJO
Enemies: Force Order
Objective: Forward Operating Base Defence/Also Ambush any ground frocks, Ninja style (Grounders)
Location: Near the Darkside Cave Galatic Allilance FOB
Team: [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] [member="Draven Dursden"]

Tana was not a healer, heck the boy was not much of a medic either, almost all his life training being dedicated to take someone’s life, not saving it, the best he could do being first aid of some sort and perhaps using some force powers to stem blood flow to a wound. As such the stealthy armoured boy was more on watch duty then medical assistance at the forward base around the dark side cave, keeping at watch out for predatory wild life and other dangerous beast which may attack the fort.

In addition, he was to keep a look out for any straggling Imperial forces left on the world, aid them if they sought to surrender and lay down arms, or 'dispose' of them if they continued the already lost fight. The young Jin stood atop a tree overlooking the swampy landscape the surrounded the fort, donned in his old Nexus armour, vibrio swords as the ready if need be, and a face mask, complimentary of his sister to hid the Shadow Jedi’s breathing.

In retrospect Tana looked more like a Atrisian Shinobi then any Jedi, but that was the whole point in his mind, a potential enemy was less likely to shoot if they did not know a targets true allegiance... well that was his line of thinking anyways. Combined with this more, deadly look Tana was in serious mode, the usually peppy mood switched out for his serious cold deminor, to the point with no goofing around, ".... I feel a very hateful darkness approaching us, and it not the CIS... where under attack".

 

[Robogeber]

Allies: [member="Charlotte Reed"] | [member="FN-6767"] | [member="Cyrus Tregessar"] | [member="Hogrum Veed"] | [member="Rolf Amsel"]
Enemies: [member="Cathul Thuku"] | [member="Mathieu Bahreiko"] | [member="Mazik Stazi"]
Objective: Find the enemy, and destroy them.
Theme: Are We Blind?! | Michael Giacchino

​

The Fleet Admiral continued to leer over the Scanning Officer, glaring at the console. "Keep finding me targets." Rausgeber glowered in a low, menacing voice. The artificial nature of his voice did nothing to soothe the young ensign, whose hairs on his nape stood on end. The hologram clenched its teeth. This was frustrating. The system was nigh unscannable. Interference ran supreme as the ghostly signals and messages of the Galactic Empires fleet, along with environmental factors, ran riot over First Order machinery. Even with scanners, nothing appeared on the Allegiance's scopes, which did nothing more than frustrate the Admiral. Were there any vessels in orbit? Or were they alone up here.

The Scanning Officer piqued up, "Admiral, oncoming fire!" Rausgebers circuitry piqued its interest, the droid clenched its dewback leather gloves. This was not good. He was the one who sprung traps. He was the one who took the initiative. And yet now, now he was on the other end. It was Skor all over again. And that was where his career had stalled. Had nearly died. His personality disk now burned with simulated hatred. Not again. Never again. Not in the face of his last triumph

"BRACE FOR IMPACT!" The automaton bellowed, voice filled with venom. There was but a second between the order, and the event as the FIV Allegiance was slammed by hypervelocity rounds. The droid lost its proverbial footing, and shook in the air, as the bridge shook. The crew steadily picked themselves up, shocked. "Find that vessel and open fire!" Carlyle barked, a look of strained fury projected onto his usually placid, albeit pallid face.

"Sector three, dash, four, dash F." The Scanning Officer reported, "That's where the fire came from." The Scanning Officer's terminal was bloodied from where his nose had fractured against the screen. Within seconds of the reading, the resonating fire of three Mega-Class turbolaser batteries now commenced a retaliatory strike. The nine barrels in total, one by one let off a salvo, each gun recoiling as massive, green bolts of superheated plasma to the Star Defender which dared to defy them. Blasts designed wittle away the shields of vessels far above its calibre, now aimed directly at the ANS Say My Name

Rausgeber stood tall again, and moved to the fore of the bridge, watching the trio of turbolasers, assisted by missile and torpedo ordinance stream towards the distance. The droid coldly stood to almost attention, "Do we have a reading as to where those who attacked us are?" Rausgeber inquired.

"We do sir, a trio of vessels," Scanning informed the trio, "We have their signatures read sir." The droid turned, and nodded his approval. Still glowering silently.

"Focus fire there, and draw them off." The droid commanded, "They're weak. Vulnerable." He assured himself, "The Galactic Alliance are not the type to offer too much resistance," Carlyle assured himself, as much as the crew. The projection of power, and strength in the face of a crew which had been surprised by the attack. They needed to be morally supported. "We are fighting the rearguard. The demoralised dregs. And they will fall to us." the Fleet Admiral lectured, "Continue forward, we will give our ground detachment the cover they-!"

The droid was knocked to the ground again, as another series of successive blasts now hit the Allegiance. Again, the droid was knocked, but this time, there was a crack. As the droid picked himself up, the droids screen was now cracked, hideously distorting the image of the late Dosuunian officer. Rather than the strong, look of a man in command, as he starred back at his crew while he picked himself up, his face, was hideous. He looked like a ghoul. From the fractures which appeared, bright blue glows streamed out, giving the droids facade an even ghostlier aura. "Find them, and crush them." The droid now grunted. His voice box had been shattered, and now became disgustingly distorted.

"Get Braisley on the line," He ordered, now fully turned to the crew, his face, flickering with static now buzzing around. "And order her to deploy reinforcements." Rausgeber sneered, screen now flickering, and displaying the sole, glowing red sight receptor which sat behind the thin, cracked glass. "Deploy the task force now, and have us draw their ships fire."

"If they want us, then let them take us."

First Order Sixth Fleet, Battlegroup Imperator, Imperator Actual

Spoiler

Name: FIV Allegiance
Class; Predator-Class Star Destroyer
Shields: 85/100
Hull: 97/100
Firing at: ANS Say My Name

Name: FIV Stamina
Class: Fortan-II Class Heavy Corvette
Shields: 94/100
Hull: 85/100
Firing At: ANS Say My Name

Name: FIV Bravery
Class: Bolt-II Class Picket Corvette
Shields: 93/100
Hull: 72/100
Firing At: ANS Say My Name

 

[Jak Sandrow]

Side: GA Ally
Enemies: Those who are not GA or GA Allies
Location: Too far away
Objective: Get to the nexus and influence things
Armor: Helmet & Undersuit, Exoframe, Designer jacket
Equipment: Slicer knife
Weaponry: Multipurpose pistol, standard rifle, way-too-big shotgun, revolver

- - -

Every step was marked by a curse. Every footprint made by an invisible boot.

Jak was running through the undergrowth, leaping from vine to fallen tree as natural as a jog on a sidewalk. He was swearing up a storm as he ran, going towards what he knew would be the beginnings of a confrontation. He could feel it in the Force; like a spider sensing its web tremble, he could feel the forest resonate and shiver as the distant tumultuous clash of Light and Dark energies sang like a beacon. Making a beeline for that nexus, he sighed and kept running.

I knew I should have built a lightsaber...

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

​

Location: Taking off from Landing Zone Alpha.
Allies: First Order.
Enemies: Galactic Alliance & their allies.
Nearby: [member="Coren Starchaser"], [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"], [member="Ever Dawnracer"], @Rapax. [member="Veino Garn"] and anyone else near the Dark-Side Caves.
Objective: Survive.

​

It had taken some time for the clearance to begin Search and Rescue operations to reach Emilia. She'd been among the first ships to land on the surface, and as the rapidly responding Galactic Alliance fleet charged overhead, moving to block the First Order ships still descending towards the murky surface. In the ensuing chaos, the thin line of communications between the LAATs that had managed to slip through and the First Order ships above was all but broken, the designated comms ships quickly falling out of the air in a tangle of flaming metal, among the first victims of the enemy ships that sailed high above the few gunships sitting alone at Landing Zone Alpha. Gazing up at the sky, and catching glimpses of the destruction far above from gaps in the mist, Emilia didn't envy the pilots and crew that'd been caught in the open when the GA's fleet arrived. What's more, each of those gunships was commanded by at least one FOSB operative, losses such of this would weight heavy on the organisation's member-base.

Of the 8 Security-Bureau headed LAATs, and 6 AAL's that had lead the charge from the Ziggurat, 5 LAAT’s had made it to the LZ, with one sustaining heavy damage. Soon, the heavily armoured gunships were joined by a single AAL, the others having been decimated in the desperate dive for the surface. As the minutes dragged on waiting for clearance, it became abundantly clear to Emilia that it would be some time before more troops landed to reinforce their forward position. With the Galactic Alliance controlling the skies above, they were cut off, at least until the First Order Navy responded. The radio silence was eerie, and with all of their sensors on the fritz, the 50-or-so troops that had landed at LZ Alpha were completely unaware of anything going on outside of the narrow clearing in the swamp.

Though the Galactic Alliance ruled the skies above, at least temporarily, Emilia was confident that they could operate Search and Rescue operations safely while the fleet was distracted, provided they flew close to the treeline. Once the Alliance forces caught wind of their position and sent fighters to intercept, she didn’t know what they’d do. Hopefully by then the First Order would have broken through and reinforced their position. The troopers busied themselves while they waited for clearance, covering the LAAT’s in camouflage netting, and deploying speeder bikes from the rear of the LAATs. Portable cover was deployed, and the LZ made defensible from infantry attack. That was all they could do.

Finally, a message arrived, trickling down through the chaos from FOSB command, ferried by unsung heroes working radios frantically amidst the chaos and confusion of battle. They had been cleared for Search and Rescue, extracting Galactic Empire troops and delivering them to the LZ. Hopefully by the time they were rescued, medical resources and transports off the surface would have arrived. Originally, Emilia had asked for four LAAT/i’s and two AALs, but now she saw this was ridiculous. She would send out two gunships, leaving the rest to hold the Landing Zone until reinforcements arrived. When the situation was less dire, more rescue forces could be deployed. After a quick briefing with the troops, the men organised themselves, with roughly three-quarters staying behind, and the others piling onto either of the two gunships selected for the mission.

Their take-off was made in silence, Emilia sitting in the copilot’s seat, monitoring the radio, and trying without much success to at least get some of the sensors working. The mood was tense, as the craft took off smoothly and glided inches from the treetops, the crew was hyper-aware of the enemy ships high in the air above them. They would be almost impossible to detect with sensors, the Alliance hampered by the same jamming that affected their own ships, but if they were spotted they wouldn’t last long against an onslaught of fighters. Behind her, two gunner sat on either side of the open doors, each manning a door-mounted laser cannon, vigilantly scanning the ground below, or at least the parts that could be seen within the murky depths of the marsh.

They made their way East over the treetops, in the general direction from which Galactic Empire radio traffic had been picked up. Emilia winced as their searchlights flicked on, sweeping the ground below them. Slow, low, and lit up like a beacon. It was as if a massive target had been painted upon the gunship that read ‘Shoot me!’ Sure enough, a few minutes after takeoff they encountered the enemy. At first Emilia hadn’t seen them, instead focused on the horizon ahead, but as the right gunner opened fire below with his turret, Emilia glimpsed silhouetted figures darting in the murk, and plasmatic bolts began to ping off the ship’s hull. The lights snapped off, and the ship began to accelerate, but it was too late. Ahead of them, Emilia spied a dark shape melting out of the darkness. It swivelled towards them in a mechanical motion, and she barely had time to scream “Look out!” Before a cluster of surface-to-air missiles erupted from the gun emplacement.

The pilot banked hard, Emilia pressing back in her chair as if she could somehow avoid what was coming. Two missiles hit them, the first hitting their heavily armoured underside. That was no big deal, the LAAT was designed to absorb such impacts and keep flying. The second missile was another story, it detonated near the rear of the craft, sending shrapnel hurtling into their rear-mounted engines.The loss of power was immediate, with the right engine completely disintegrating and the left severely damaged, the LAAT exited its dramatic bank and entered a spin, Emilia screaming all the way down as the LAAT crashed through the canopy, plunching towards the swamp, about 500m from the Galactic Alliance staging ground at the Dark Side caves.

 

[Tiland Kortun]

[member="Emilia Ravel"]

Tiland paused, staff in hand. More ripples echoed through the Force. More than he had sensed since his arrival, even during the battle. No, that had not been the battle. It had been only the beginning. This was going to be the real battle. The Force balanced on the edge of a knife in this moment, as both sides were badly hurt by the previous battles. Neither side was at their best. The Imperials had fled, leaving many of their men behind, both those in one piece and those who had been injured.

And he was seeking them out. The patrols were as well, but Tiland wasn't with them. No, he had another purpose. Another mission, one separated from the Alliance. Certainly, he was a Jedi Master, but that didn't mean his loyalty was solely to the Alliance. No, his loyalty was to the Force.

And the cause of the Force was the cause of life, both Imperial and Alliance. There was a band of stormtroopers not far from his location. He could sense them and their injuries. Supplies were running low and would be lower soon. Hopefully he would be able to help them beforehand. Before the situation got too desperate.

They were many things, but they were still professionals. Patrols wound around the perimeter and he was waiting on them. There were two of them coming, stormtroopers with dinged armor and minor injuries. Their helmet visor had been shattered and Tiland sat on a fallen log. He had nothing with him but a staff and a pot of mint tea steeping in front of him.

"Don't move!" The voices called as they rounded a tree-trunk. Blasters pointed at his face and he raised his hands, showing they were empty. He had no armor and no weapons, only a staff and some tea.

"Welcome," Tiland said, indicating the cups of tea that stood beside him. "I was wondering when you would get here. I'm a hermit. Healer. Heard the battle. Saw your armor through the jungle. Thought that perhaps I could assist."

He gestured to the plants that surrounded them. "We are surrounded by some of the most potent healing plants in the galaxy. More effective than commercial medicines."

The two stormtroopers walked past him, guns still trained, as they circled around him. He could hear some muffled voices coming from their helmets, but he waited patiently. It was a matter of trust. They were scared, abandoned, and concerned. Yet here was a stranger offering to help them on a hostile world.

"You're coming with us." One of them finally said and Tiland nodded. They gestured him up and he rose, carefully keeping his hands in plain sight.

"Bring the tea, if you would," he said after a moment, "It's helpful."

They turned to look at each other and finally nodded. One grabbed up the tea and carried it along with them as they headed into the makeshift camp.

It was definitely not in good condition. Tree logs and mud embankments surrounded it, with damaged armored vehicles. filling in the gaps. Injured soldiers lay in the center, tended to by their field medics. But bandages and bacta was growing scarce. He could see it by their supplies. There wasn't enough to last long enough.

And so, he took a seat by the field medics and sifted through his satchel, sifting through the herbs. He found the ones that he needed and began to set them out to steam. They would be the start to the poultices he would need. Out came the pestle and the grinder, as he ground the dried leaves into a paste, which he mixed with some leaves that had an antispectic quality.

"Have your orderlies gather more of these plants," he said, holding several of them out to one of the technicians. There was a pause as they stared at them, but he continued mixing the paste together. Doctors had an air of competency that others respected and listened when they talked.

After a few moments, they went to gather the plants. He wasn't sure how long it took, but they returned. He was already moving through the ranks of the injured.

He paused, tilting his head to listen. Missiles exploded not too far away and the unmistakable sound of a ship crashing through the atmosphere and into the jungle.

"Go get them," Tiland waved his hand in the general direction. Several of the less injured ones hurried off to the jungle, tracing their way through the crashed ships. He took a deep breath and massaged his temples. It was going to be a long day. Others would come soon, perhaps more dangerous, and less inclined to accept help from a wandering Jedi.

That was something that could be problematic in the near future, but he would trust the Force. It would guide him and lead him to where he would be most needed.

 

[Marl]

Side: SJO/GA.
Enemies: FO and Allies.
Objective: Forward Operating Bass Defense.
Current Allies:
[member="Tanaski Yumi"] [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] [member="Draven Dursden"] @Liuna Undizi @Asaara Vaashe

Staying at the base didn’t seem like a good use of the ranger’s time. However this was the Galactic Alliance’s party so Marl will comply. Yuroic had told the group they were heading out to check out the wild life. Nature was one of the finer things in life. So Marl wasn’t upset that they would be going for a walk.

“Yessir.” Marl said, as he packed up his stuff. For the most part it seemed that The rest of his trip on Dagobah will be quiet. Thank the force. As he finished packing up his water. He got an urgent communication on his Comm.

“This is Marl, go ahead, over.” He ordered into his comm.

The voice was very fuzzy but his message is clear, “This.... the........ tell...... Xeraic...... First... der ships..... hyper.... -ace .....-munication array........ damaged. May the......... with you.” The first thing Marl thought was “First Order?” Then the words of the message caught up to Marl. He ran over to Yuroic.

“General, I’ve just received word that First Order ships have dropped out of Hyper Space! They are preparing a massive assault. What’s your orders?” Marl asked, hoping that the new leader knew what to do.

 

[Kip Hollaran]

Allies: Galactic Alliance
Enemies: The First Order, [member="FN-2826"], [member="Dr. Aes'ona Terrani"]
Location: Somewhere above the Swamp
Equipment: U-Wing, Standard Blaster Carbine, Knife
Objective: Firsty Don't Surf
Theme

They got the call and the location, incoming First Order landing craft. They didn't know the craft were ferrying medical personnel, and honestly Hollaran didn't fething care. The gunship squadron broke off into separate flights, with Amber 6 and its crew continuing on course to intercept with two other gunships. They weren't X-Wings, air-to-air wasn't their foray, but they'd make it work.

The transports-turned gunships raced towards the LAAT's door guns sweeping forwards. The 60T's had been a rush, any of the crews would've preferred the LAAT/D's they'd grown used to, or the U-100G, but they'd elected to make it work. T'rago and the other non-flight crew spare Hollaran and Greig had taken rocket launchers and squad automatic weapons aboard to add to the punch of the U-Wing.

But none of them could do a thing right now, it was all on the door gunners and the pilots. "Light them up!" Came the crackled voice of their flight leader over his headset. Kip didn't have to be hold twice. He depressed the trigger in an instant, his door gun spewing blaster bolts at the LAAT's in unison with the other two gunships.

The naivety and hesitation from not even a day earlier was gone, loss of innocence and tremendous pain had seen to that, now Kip wanted to watch the dropships go down in flames, he wanted them to burn up in the swamp below, just like his folks had.

 

[LT-137]

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.'

Clutching a fistful of an ochre uniform within his taloned grasp, the Golden Tribune dragged the wounded Alliance officer from the grated surface of his dropship to stand, haphazardly, on his feet. The man struggled to regain his balance, as his legs betrayed him. Scuffed and carbon scored boots kicked aimlessly at the deck, scrabbling to find some measure of purchase yet, utterly denied as the Mercenary’s powered armour lifted the man higher, and higher. With his broken form held aloft for all within the dropship to see, Khonsu’s dark and hooded eyes glittered with an uncaring malice. This man had been one of the few survivors of their failed assault on the battlecruiser known as the Excubitor, and was taken captive at the behest of their assigned handler. Now, after having fought tooth and nail to withdraw from that suicide mission, the Thyrsian’s blood ran hot. Anger had stolen his calm, and calculated persona, forcing him to seek an outlet - one that would satisfy the dark craving lingering beneath his every thought.

His grip tightened around the officer’s uniform, pulling more and more of the ragged fabric into his armoured gauntlet. The man began to blabber, spitting forth a ceaseless string of pathetic pleas meant to bargain for mercy. Khonsu had heard it all before. This mewling whelp had a family, and was only doing his duty to ensure that they were kept safe. He was only following orders. It was by such words that many atrocities of the past were carried out, absolving the damned despite all the blood that stained their fingers. Such words tipped the Mercenary passed the point of no return, and as the blast doors retracted into their exterior housings, Khonsu had unceremoniously threw the Officer at the flightdeck, beneath their hovering dropship. Thick rivulets of blood and shattered teeth scattered across polished panels from the point of impact, eliciting a howl of anguish from the mewling figure, and drawing the eyes of those Imperial’s stationed nearby.

“Silence,” The Tribune hissed through clenched teeth, as he joined the fallen figure of Alliance authority aboard the First Order’s warship. “Your words, and pleas for clemency would be better saved for those who care.”

Before the Sun Guard was able to commit himself to further acts of senseless cruelty, a voice in the distance had drawn his attention. It didn’t belong to the woman that had originally hired them to fight against the armed forces of the Galactic Alliance, but her voice carried a similar aristocratic quality that was commonplace amongst the Imperial castes. “Hold there, Mercenary!” The woman called out once more, ensuring that her words halted the descending talons. “I need that man to talk, and you, bouncing his skull off the flightdeck, won’t help anyone with that eventuality.”

“This man means nothing to me,” Khonsu replied callously as the woman made her final approach, coming to a halt within an arm’s reach of her desired captive. “And I’m certain you will come to that conclusion when he breaks.”

“Though that may be true,” She began, picking the man up from the flightdeck and draping him across her immaculately pressed shoulders. ”There are some secrets he could still have that would allow us to get the upper hand against our foes in the day to come. Even if he came from Therapy Command.”

Rolling his eyes, and stifling the urge to comment on such matters, Khonsu began steering the conversation away from such an unsavoury topic, and began discussing his payment for the bounty of Alliance Officer’s they had harvested from the ‘Excubitor.’ The two spoke at length regarding the matter of the Golden Company’s fee, and while the woman sought to negotiate and haggle their already established contract, the Tribune had emerged victorious in staying the course. Who knew having friends in high places, within the First Order, would make those subservient to them fall in line? Nevertheless, with the former agreement no longer on the table, the Sun Guard ordered his men to cast off their unwanted guests and hand them into Imperial custody. While these were those within the outfit that had seen dozens of broken men marching towards uncertainty, Khonsu saw nothing more than his hoard of credits grow ever larger.

With nothing but the distant sound of pain echoing from their secluded section of the flightdeck, Khonsu’s gaze was drawn back towards the woman who shouldered his former captive as she spoke.

“If you’re interested,” She began, as her eyes locked with the Golden Tribune’s. “I have another job for you and your men…”

The First Order had received scattered reports of what transpired atop the black morass of Dagobah’s surface, ranging from a resounding Alliance victory over their Imperial cousins to a pyrrhic triumph that ended with the armed forces of the Galactic Empire pulling out of the system. Neither angle could be confirmed, due to the untrustworthy nature of the source, but it was enough to push the forces of the Order to act accordingly. Thus, without much of a delay, and hot on the heels of the beleaguered Alliance forces that were scattered in the aftermath of L-49, the Golden Company had joined - once again - with the First Order as they speared into the heart of the Rimma Trade Route. Their mission was simple. They were to ascertain the truth of what occurred during the battle, and recover any survivors - should the wildlife and the Alliance thereafter - not gotten to them first.

When they had broken from the azure realm of hyperspace in a flicker of pseudomotion, the twinned gunships soared like leaves caught on the breeze as they wove through the ensuing battle in orbit with practised ease. Their defensive batteries chattered in the oppressive silence of space, shooting any hostile craft that found themselves drifting too close to either Phaethon or had sought to deny the Golden Company of their descent to the surface. Sadly, circumstances had swung in favour of the highly maneuverable Mercenaries, as their pursuers were forced to break away from their newfound prey, as the gunship’s heavy weaponry spun ‘round and began adding its beams of coalesced lightning to the ensuing kaleidoscope of colours brightening the planet’s cloud-choked sky.

Now that they were no longer pursued towards the surface by the Galactic Alliance, the Golden Company had found themselves beset by another foe. Instead of discharged particle beams, and blaring klaxons signalling a locked missile strike, the twinned dropships were assailed by the morass that lay beneath their spindly armatures, and the towering thicket of trees that protruded from the swamp-laden surface. They dived deeper into the dense underbrush, causing several branches to spontaneous erupt in flame, as the dropship’s deflector screen had impacted the wooden flesh. It was beneath the turbulent atmospherics and ancient grove, that they were able to home in on their target, the one that had drawn them to this sector of this misbegotten world.

It was an Imperial distress beacon, one that used the Galactic Empire’s encrypted frequencies - which in turn were based off an older First Order coding scheme that still checked out. Unable to pinpoint the exact location of the beacon, the two gunships had parted ways, seeking to cover more ground in their separation - rather than narrowing their focus to what encircled them.

With practised ease, Khonsu and his Cohort had trudged through the swamp, shouldering their massive gauss rifles and tracking every shadow that flickered just out of sight. The unstable atmospherics had rendered their power suit's sensors utterly useless, especially as the targeting sights integrated into their combat visors had speared into the darkness on multiple occasions, drawing the Sun Guard’s attention to unseen and non-existent threats. That meant they had to fall back on their training in order to combat whatever lay in store for them since much of their equipment was unreliable in this teeming morass.

Communications with the other Cohort’s were spotty as well, meaning that should any element of the Golden Company deployed to the surface of Dagobah encounter the enemy - they would find themselves hard pressed for reinforcements. Pushing the thought of being outgunned, outnumbered, and behind enemy lines, from the forefront of his mind, the Thyrsian continued his advance through the thick quagmire of insect-infested waters.

It wasn’t long after, that the five Sun Guards had waded through the brackish morass and found themselves in a clearing - where a literal carpet of fallen stormtroopers lay beneath the overhanging shadow of a starship perched upon it’s landing struts. The model was unfamiliar to the Tribune, and as they were ‘fighting’ on an Alliance-held world, the Thyrsian made the assumption that it was an older vessel that was still in service to the Galactic Alliance. With the evidence laid bare for him to see, as they came to stand between a massive stump and the ship itself, Khonsu made the call to salvage the beacon and whatever equipment they could from the corpses. It wasn’t like the Galactic Empire, or for that matter, the First Order would care if several notable items had gone missing from their fallen soldiers.

Though, as the Tribune had issued the order, he made sure to relay that their dog-tags should be recovered as well. They would need proof once they returned to the First Order that they had discharged their duty, rather than allowing their employers to believe they enjoyed quite the ‘vacation’ on the surface - whilst the Imperial’s fought and bled for control of the Rimma Trade Route.

Unbeknownst to the Sun Guards, as they began policing the bodies, those that had slain the Stormtroopers sought to make a break for their starship. Those that took shelter behind the stump would find several figures in carbon-scored golden armour, pillaging the dead and dismantling the miniaturized distress beacon. The advantage of surprise would doubtlessly be on their side, but what could two botanists and their hired gun do against a heavily armed, and armoured foe?

| [member="Tryp West"] |​

 

[Lyra Sunfell]

@Kip Halloran [member="Sol Stazi"]​

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

Lyra let out a long sigh as she buckled her helmet back on and slid in a new power-pack. Her hunch and the Jedi's premonition had been right. There was another battle coming. One that they had expected, but hadn't had enough time to prepare for. Not really, anyway. They had fortified, set up prefabricated bases, dug in trenches, set traps. All of the things that they could do in the time allowed them, but still, it wasn't good.

No, this was a battle that would be fought with guts. She stood and strode into their makeshift command center, taking a look at the readouts. First Order forces were inbound and landing trips had begun to make their way to the ground.

"Get confirmation of all known First Order sightings." Techs jumped to it, scanning the radios. They listened, ears pressed against the receivers.

"Gunships. Transports. We've got ships on intercept. Coordinates coming in."

Lyra nodded as the codes came in. "Get the mortars prepped. Try and keep them mobile. Can't afford to lose our heavy guns. "

Orders went out and the gunnery crews spread out into the jungle. The pits had already been dug and camouflaged. It took a minute to get the big ones set up and another to bring them down.

"Lieutenant Stalzi," Lyra comment. "How's your platoon on supplies and ammunition? We need exterior pickets along the edge of the lake."

"Captain! We've got a band of Imperials huddled up not far from here."

"Imperials or First Order?"

"Imperial."

"Any status on their supplies?"

"Not the greatest, but they can put up a fight if need be."

"Keep eyes on them," she responded. "They're not our concern. They're cut off and beaten. Just make sure they don't get involved."

"Copy that."

Within the tunnel complex, the soldiers took their last few moments to prepare for the coming battle. Weapons were prepped, reloaded, and injuries tended. They patched them up the best way that they could, with sutures, bandages, and some technically illegal alcohol to prevent infection.

The platoons were loaded up with explosives and the weapons that they had. They were plentiful now that new supplies had arrived and had been stockpiled in the tunnels. Two squads had dug in around the entrance, surrounded by the undergrowth and dug into the mud.

They saluted as she climbed up out of the tunnel. Distant bird calls echoed along with strange reptilian noises. She nodded at them in return and shoulder the rifle beneath her shoulder as she stepped out onto the island surface. No sunlight made its way through the thick canopy that surrounded them.

"Amber Six has made contact!" One of the comm officers yelled and Lyra nodded, face grim. "Targeting enemy dropships."

"Keep in contact," Lyra responded. "Stalzi, set up defenses between our location and Amber Six's."

 

[Gir Quee]

Location: Tercel-class Heavy Cruiser Black Sword, near Dagobah
Objective: Ready for battle
Allies: [member="Mathieu Bahreiko"] [member="[FONT='times new roman']Mazik Stanzi"],[/FONT] Cathul Thuku, Tristram Vos, Aedan Miles, Qymaen sil Jurai, Galactic Alliance, CIS, Silver Jedi
Enemies: Sieger Ren, Robogeber, Cyrus Tregessar, First Order, Galactic Empire remnants

The Black Sword drifted around Dagobah. After first surveying it from the observation bridge, Gir had quickly decided against visiting the swamp planet. What was an already unappealing world had been made even less appealing by the wreckage of battle strewn about the wetlands. It had been a momentous battle by all accounts. Gir turned his eyes from the holographic visage of the dismal-looking world to observe his bridge crew. Captain Waters pulled a strand of dyed brunette hair out of her face as she continued to review and sign reports at station. The Black Sword had taken some damage after facing the Ravager during the battle for L-49. While the damage had mostly been repaired, and replacement crewmembers had been brought onboard, she was still facing several days of paperwork for what had been only several hours of combat. But organizations run on paperwork as much as they do credits and war material. Gir's eyes moved on to the rest of the crew, noting more energy in their actions and less stress in their faces. Most of them seemed to be benefiting from their stay over the swamp world. It may be a boring port, but it was rest nonetheless. His reverie was interrupted by the mon calamari sensor operator, Sal, clearing his gravelly throat.

"New signals appearing on the far end of the system," announced Sal, turning his fishlike eyes on Gir, "I'm still processing them."

"Confederacy?" asked Gir, striding over towards the station.

He had seen a host of various makes and models of ships since arriving at Dagobah. He had taken a special delight in observing them, not only to discover new designs but to see how quickly he could recognize the older models. As he leaned over the mon calamari's shoulder, he could make out the faint outlines as being far more angular than any Confederate design he had seen. As the images resolved, he turned his guess to some older CEC vessel in Alliance service. But that guess too turned sour as the trio of ships resolved themselves into the distinct designs of the First Order. He expected dozens of cronau flashes to soon follow. But none did. He frowned. It's not the vanguard of a larger force? A raiding party perhaps? He briefly considered the possibility that they were prize vessels taken by some lucky Alliance commander, but the defiant speech broadcasted by [member="Cathul Thuku"] quickly shut down that possibility. Quee silently cursed. It looks like our choice is made for us. He turned his eyes to Waters.

"Action stations," said the blonde man, flipping his headset comlink's microphone down, "Crestrunner, Hound, and Thorn. We have company on the other side of the world. Get your people to action stations."

He turned his eyes to the rest of the amphitheater-like bridge, but Waters had already activated the automated alarm. Half-dressed sailors previously in their bunks were already filing to take up the empty, auxiliary stations in the bridge. He had little doubt that the rest of the ship's interior would different, as of the offshifts were being roused to take their stations and auxiliary postings. He turned his eyes to the bridge's holo-projector, eying his quartet of Directorate warships floating lazily just outside of Dagobah's gravity well. We're too far away from the Thuku's ships and the interlopers to act now. His eyes scanned the rest of the holo-map. From their vantage point by the world's moon, they seemed to be in little immediate danger from enemy threats so far, but he knew that could quickly change. He turned his eyes upwards to his duros' navigator.

"Begin plotting multiple courses to reinforce other allied ships and stations in the area," decided Gir, "and try to take into account the local gravity wells. We might as well use them to our advantage."

"Aye sir."

Gir returned to his own personal station and began to ponder possible courses of action.

Directorate Task Force Black Sword

Spoiler

Tercel-class Heavy Cruiser Black Sword
MCC25 Danios-class Corvette Crestrunner
Liberté-class Light Corvette Hound
Liberté-class Light Corvette Thorn

 

[Mathieu Bahreiko]

​

Allies: [member="Mazik Stazi"], [member="Gir Quee"], [member="Cathul Thuku"] (Engaged with), [member="Tristram Vos"], [member="Aedan Miles"], [member="Qymaen sil Jurai"], Galactic Alliance, CIS​

Enemies: [member="Sieger Ren"], [member=Robogeber] (Engaged), [member="Cyrus Tregessar"], First Order, Galactic Empire remnants​

Location: High Orbit over Dagobah, ​

Objective: Oversee GA and Allied Fleet Movements, Defend Orbit​

"I don't like this." It was Admiral Nai's turn to express displeasure as combat began to unfold. One cruiser, a frigate, and two corvettes... This is not at all what she expected. Were this any other time, any other foe, she would have laughed, called the enemy foolhardy, and concentrated all available firepower on the enemy ships until they were slag. But this was the First Order. They were many things, but stupid was not one of them. The idea that one of their commanders was so brash to have jumped out, alone, to try and catch any stragglers was... wrong. If there was no other quality she could begrudgingly respect the First Order for, their naval officers were methodical and drilled. This was not the action she would ascribe to them. So that left one option left.

A trap.

What sort of trap, she had not yet figured out. Dagobah was not particularly important by almost any stretch of the imagination. They weren't going to get the Alliance to divert an excessive amount of military hardware and personnel to the system, and the idea that they would continue to come as one massive push from the Metharian Nebula was one she continued to dismiss. A probing action, maybe? No, they had launched dropships. So that meant they were intending to either seize something... Or they were attempting to recover someone. She narrowed her eyes slightly as she stared at the viewscreen. The Galactic Empire had been forced to retreat in a hurry... A rescue operation? No, that still made no sense. The First Order and Galactic Empire were allied, of that she was certain, but to risk their own assets on an operation that the Galactic Empire itself had not cared enough to do.

The ship shuddered as the first megamaser bolts slammed into the ship. 'Those pack quite the punch,' she thought to herself with the barest hint of surprise. Clicking her heels together to activate the maglocks in the soles of her boots, the Atrisian admiral felt her feet snap to the floor with a faint click of metal against metal. They would not keep her upright if things got... intense, but they would serve their purpose in keeping her on her feet for now. They had gotten the attention of the First Order ships, and they had decided to focus fire on the Noble-class it seemed. If they wanted to try that, she was more than happy to let them.

"Drop aft shields by thirty percent and reinforce the forward shields. Fire the main turbolaser batteries and ion cannons. Calculate firing solutions and prep the Javelins for fire." Power began to flow between systems as the admiral's orders were carried out. An almost imperceptible flicker of the aft shields signaled the shift forward in defense, bracing the shield for the incoming fire. Deep within the ship, capacitors began to discharge into buffers. Electromagnetic fields were concentrated within the barrel, building up power in order to accelerate the three tremendous masses to deadly speeds. "Have our escorts draw across our bow, take some of their fire off of us, and have them tear into the corvettes with their heavy cannons. Contact Admiral Thuku. Have her group close and match our fire patterns, but make sure she stays with the fleet. I don't want her to press forward and fall into an ambush if more First Order ships arrive while she's out of formation."

Beside the Noble-class, the massive engines of the Horn-class cruisers flared. It took time for them to accelerate and push the vessels forward, which left the lead ship to take the fire head on. The first cruiser to move across the front was the ANS Once More, her starboard shields flaring as they took several powerful shots from the First Order weapons. As it moved across, it lined up its center-line with the FIV Bravery before a small explosion thrust three slugs forward, ecah the size of a large starfighter. They weren't as massive or accelerated to the same degree a proper Javelin system could, but they were impactful nonetheless. Turbolaser cannons swiveled and took pot shots at the corvette before it moved out of the Say My Name's path. Several volleys of ion cannon and octuple turbolaser battery fire lanced at the FIV Allegiance before falling silent as the ANS Unto the Breach mirrored her sister ship, port shields flaring this time.

Admiral Nai turned to her aide and nodded. "Make sure FLEETCOM is aware that we are now engaged with the First Order in the system, and that we expect more enemy vessels to arrive within minutes. Divert any retreating Alliance vessels from the Metharian Nebula to Sluis Van or Tantara. Request reinforcements from Queyta and Virmeude as soon as possible, as well as from Eriadu with all due speed. We either turn the First Order back here, or we force them to stop here while we finish pulling back to Vero."

Galactic Alliance 9th Fleet, Defense Flotilla Azure Star

Spoiler

Name: ANS Say My Name

Spoiler

Class: Noble-class Star Defender
Shields: 96%
Hull: 100%
Target: FIV Allegiance

Name: ANS Unto the Breach
Class: Horn-class Escort Cruiser
Shields: 94%
Hull: 100%
Target: FIV Bravery

Name: ANS Once More
Class: Horn-class Escort Cruiser
Shields: 95%
Hull: 100%
Target: FIV Stamina

 

[Sol Stazi]

Allies: Galactic Alliance/Allied Forces, [member="Lyra Sunfell"] | [member="Kip Hollaran"] | [member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Mathieu Bahreiko"] | [member="Taeli Raaf"] | [member="Rekha Kaarde"] | [member="Taheera Sollo"]​

Enemies: First Order, [member="Khonsu Amon"] | [member="FN-2826"] | [member="FN-6767"] | [member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="Luther Ando"] | [member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="Therran Graush"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"]​

Objective: Assign Pickets Along Lake's Edge​

Equipment: Light Armor, A320-CFE Blaster, Alliance Adjudicator, BD-1 Cutter Vibroaxe, Combat Vibroknife, Thermal Detonators (Bandolier of Six)​

​

​

First Platoon // Surface Level
Camp Twilight // Concealed Artillery Outpost
Dagobah Swamps Near Space Wizard Cave

Sol had been asleep less than five minutes ago, but the moment word had been relayed down from UNICOM that more Imperials were on their way for them to kill, the duros army lieutenant had been as alert and ready as ever. They had been preparing for this, even if uncertainty lingered among the top brass as to whether a second assault would inevitably come. In between babysitting civilian relief personnel, Alliance troopers along with their allies had gotten to know the surrounding terrain quite well. What had just been simple war games a little more than a day ago was not all too real.

The Jedi seemed to believe that the planet's Force nexus would be a priority target for a second incursion, so Lieutenant Stazi's platoon had been responsible for preparing their surface defenses while Captain [member="Lyra Sunfell"] oversaw work on the construction of a tunnel system under the lake that served as the true Camp Twilight, practically unassailable by all save direct orbital bombardment. At least, that was the idea. For his own part, Sol had assigned several squads to lay repulsor mines as well as the regular anti-personnel variety, and set heat sensor trips in a perimeter between their outpost and the nearby Cave.

Meanwhile, his own squad an another had seen to sufficiently camouflaging their Jairdan heavy mortars and anti-aircraft guns spread out in a perimeter around the entrance to their camp's tunnels. Now all that was left to do was assign his workers to positions in specially dug foxholes along the shores of the nearby lake, and lie in wait to ambush any First Order units passing by.

"Negative, Cap," Sol's voice echoed loudly within the stuffy tactical helmet when he returned Lyra's transmission, its temperature control systems failing to compensate fully for this humidity, "That last supply drop should do us for now. I'll assign some runners to make for the tunnels when we start to run low."

He had hardly finished when nearby anti-aircraft guns began booming, their operators tracking First Order assault craft as they began to descend into the planet's upper atmosphere. On a planet like Dagobah, all the gunners had to go on was their sensors, so their barrage was far more imprecise than usual. More landing ships were bound to get through, but if they could thin their numbers out even a little bit it was worth the risk of exposing their general position.

For now, their mortars remained silent. An even heavier fog than usual had descended over the swamps and woodlands of Dagobah, and through strictly visual means neither he nor most of his men could see more than a few meters in any direction. Mostly, they had been relying on lifeform sensors as well as their thermal vision, although on a planet as rich in biodiversity as this one it would be difficult for them to pick out stormtroopers from the local wildlife.

"Any word from Commander Starchaser?" he whispered in between the anti-air fire despite knowing it wasn't really necessary. [member="Coren Starchaser"] was the Jedi Master who had been in charge of keeping their weird cave of evil space magic thing under control along with Master [member="Taeli Raaf"]. Sol wasn't particularly superstitious, but he had seen firsthand what the Force was capable of on Skor and he didn't trust it. Just being this close to something called a 'nexus' gave him the creeps.

 

[Rexus Wenck]

Allies: [member="FN-6767"] | [member="Luther Ando"]
Enemies: The Galactic Alliance | [member="Sol Stazi"] | @Kyp Holligan | [member="Lyra Sunfell"]
NPC: Dergan Twigg
Objective: Get to the surface.
Equipment: FO-2 Stormtrooper Armour | Lightsaber | G-11 F Blaster Rifle | Aegis Shield |

Lieutenant Scarl turned to the tank driver, "I'd be lying if we said our intel was anything substantial," The lieutenant admitted, "But from what we have received, and command has decyphered has said that the troops in this sector did experience stiff resistance." Scarl coolly informed Scars, "It isn't much, and we might be thrust into a death trap," Scarl admitted. The stormtroopers around them, shuffled a little, uncomfortably, "But are we not soldiers?" The officer inquired, "Are we not men and women of the First Order?" He asked, "Whatever is down there, we will find. We will recover. And if needed, we will kill." There was a pause, and Scarl raised his fist, "For the glory of Supreme Leader!" He bellowed.

In unity, the entire LAAT erupted with a mighty cheer, "HAIL SIEGER!" The stormtroopers chanted, repeating the gesture that the officer had made. Rexus felt his pride swelling. This was a familiar feeling. A welcome one to boot. Reminded him of his younger days. When things were less complicated. When things were calmer. Before the war. Before all of this. When war was just a game.
Now, as stormtroopers slid on their helmets, the LAAT's doors slid shut, and sealed. The intercom crackled on, and now the entire troop compartment began to glow distinctly red. "Ladies, and gentlemen, this is your captain speaking." The pilot began, "We have just been cleared for lift off, ETA at your LZ is three minutes," The pilot drawled, in a typically Isis accent, "Hold on, sit back, enjoy." Rexus clasped one of the straps which hung from the roof, and closed his eyes.

His robotic arm, slid down to his belt, and gently reached from his portable music player up to connect it to the jack in his helmet. In one fluid motion, he clicked the 'play' button, and listened to the soothing sound of Lightaqua Resurgences 'Fortunate One'. Rexus listened to nothing more than the opening guitar riff, and the beating of his heart.

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=40JmEj0_aVM​

​

It was time to put on his war face. Rexus' chest eased up, and down. Steadily, and slowly, as the LAAT 'Podracer' streamed out of the cavernous hangar a Resurgent-II like the FIV Rage offered. As the flotilla of gunships now approached the resistance offered by the Galactic Alliances forces, Rexus stilled himself. His thoughts went back to the old days. The Gundark Gunners. The boys. The camaraderie. The success. And the loses.

As Podracer now began to swerve, and perform evasive manouveres to avoid the myriad of stations, and fighters which had seemingly emerged from nowhere, Rexus kept meditating. Although, he wouldn't call it that. Wenck's spirit had found itself, untested. And he found himself unready for what lay ahead. Could he really return to the form he once had. Could he? Skor, and more importantly, Asharad Graush had broken the man. Ruined his career, and turned him once more to the self-destructive thug, without purpose he had been.

Rexus' jaw clenched, as the transport, began to shake again. "Just a warning passengers, we're experiencing a bit of turbulence." The pilot reported over the crackling intercom, "We'll be hitting the ground in approximately-" The comms unit cut out, as a blast hit the back of the gunship, and it began to swerve uncontrollably. The starboard door, tore right off sucking out several troopers into the thick, grey mist. Rexus clenched onto the ropes, and held on, as the gunship spun out, and into the low atmosphere of Dagobah.

The impact, was bone breaking, as the Podracer slammed into a large tree, cracking nearly into two, and sending more troopers flying. Rexus was in the rear of the fuselage, and flew right into the now crumpled, metal wall of the gunship. Wenck attempted to pick himself up, but found his vision fading. Before he knew it, he was out like a light, listening to the dulcet tones of Fortunate One.

 

[Luther Lewis]

​

Allies: [member="FN-6767"], [member="Rexus Wenck"].
Enemies: Galactic Alliance and Allies.
Location: Aboard LAAT, enroute to the surface of Dagobah.
Luther's Equipment:

Spoiler

• DE-39 "Deep Fryer" Model Maser Rifle.
• Medical Backpack.
• FO-02 Stormtrooper Armour. Tank-Trooper Variant embellished with medical symbol.

Vehicle Status:

Spoiler

Vehicle: LAVr FI-H8b 'Hussar' Command Speeder. Stripped sensor/targeting and command suites, retrofitting said areas for medical support.
Crew: 11th Armoured Division.
Action: In transport, enroute to surface.
Hull: 100%
Mobility: Stationary.
Crew Health: Healthy.

​

The doors sealed with a pressurized hiss, casting the crew in darkness until the lights flickered on. He breathed in deep again, trying to steady his shaking fingers. Why was he so nervous? He wasn't a green trooper, and he'd been on worse missions. But he still couldn't shake the creeping feeling of dread. Commanders and officers might stick to hard facts, but a simple soldier learns to trust his instincts. And his gut was screaming at him: 'Run, Run". He pushed it down, deep down, and focused on breathing. He played Pazaak in his head. He imagined the interior of the LAAT was his entire world (it was not difficult, with the sealed doors) and soon he felt better.

The transport shivered and shook, large metallic booms echoing from the sides. He unease returned. Luther imagined a giant child holding their LAAT, a mere toy in his pudgy hands. The boy whipped the toy back and forth, making explosion noises with his mouth. Unheedful of the lives he played with, he hauled the toy towards the ground, so fast it would surely break. The toy hit the ground in Luther's mind, forcing him to gasp, but nothing happened. He let out a shaky laugh. 'What a fool" he thought. Too little sleep and too much Caf had him wound up. For the first time in the last couple of hours, Luther relaxed.

The starboard door tore itself off the LAAT and, without a whisper, a group of troopers went with it. 'Dead' thought the clinical, cold part of half of his mind. He couldn't hear the other half over the screaming, only dimly aware that it was his own. There was a tumult of images and noises that assaulted his senses as his body flew around the transport. Pain flooded his knee as one final collision with a large tree brought the LAAT to a halt. The crash brought on a strange feeling of weightlessness to his body. It felt like he was falling. It wasn't until he hit the ground, with a hard thud, that it occurred to him that he actually did fall. His head smashed hard on the ground and he blacked out.

 

[Katrine Van-Derveld]

Side: The Galactic Alliance
Enemies: First Order
Objective: Meet up with the team, Forward Operating Base Defence (Grounders)
Location: Moving through the Swamp to FOB
Team: [member="Rapax"] [member="Srina Talon"] [member="Aryn Teth"] [member="Taeli Raaf"] [member="Allyson Locke"] [member="Yuroic Xeraic"]

Spoiler

Armor:

• Outfit (Not actual armor, just clothes)
• Coat
• Taak'tabi (Bone Marchers)
• Light-Shield Bracelet

Weapons:

• HV-55A: "Allfate" Disruptor Rifle
• Rudamentary lightsaber, blue color
• Czerka Fighting Knife

The side of the cave had been defeaning to her senses, one she was eager to get out of it now. She'd noted Rapax collecting his weapons and following along, urging her own feet to keep moving forward. "Might be fun to come back," she'd told him casually, "not in any near future though." Katrine could appreciate a good test, she'd been through them as part of her trials but now that it was done, she wasn't rushing to get back, that was for sure.

Just outside of it, she could let her Senses reach out easier even if the cave behind her was still somehow distracting. Once outside, tentatively moving her heavy boots against the wamp ground, she began to search for familiar and unfamiliar signatures. First one she'd felt was familiar from when the games began, recognizing Alliance friends though she hadn't quite gotten to know them yet ( [member="Coren Starchaser"] ). She continued on slowly, searching for more. Her movements came to a halt when she felt some foreign ones though her Sense couldn't quite tell more due to the cave. Her hand moved to the side, glancing back at Rapax. 'You feel that?' She sent a thought to him instinctively to the Shaman.

Slowly, she continued, stepping onward out of the immediate area of the Cave, making her way out of it, searching out for specific signatures. Only when she'd locked on to one, that of [member="Srina Talon"] , not too far from where they were, she sent a thought to her as well: 'Srina, where are you? Is our transport here yet?' But still continued on to the Base since near vicinity of the cave was hardly suitable to be picked up.

(FOB folks welcome to pick up on Kat. Just about anyone around the are can)​

 

[Kier Grey]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=cs4ctYw1lCc​

Cpl. FN-6767 "Scars"
LAAT/i Gunship "Podracer", Dagobah Surface
Allies: [member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="Luther Ando"]
Enemies: The Galactic Alliance | [member="Sol Stazi"] | [member="[/COLOR]Kip Hollaran"] | [member="Lyra Sunfell"]

Spoiler: Equipment

• FO-02 Stormtrooper Armour (Tank Trooper Variant, one-color white passive camouflage)
• FastTurn-3 Hydrospanner
• Plasma Torch
• Stuncuffs
• T-8B Self-Loading Precision Carbine
• G-11F Blaster Rifle

Scars listens to the Lieutenant without breathing a word through the annunciator simply keeping one hand firmly on the rack with the other hanging losely by side severely underestimating the resistance waiting for them. "War is hell, son." Scars mutters beneath her breath while the other Troopers are busy praising Sieger's name within the confines of Dropship something far more pure is driving the Stormtrooper at this point; Survival. Well that and the promise of a warm cot at the end of all this though given Dagobah's geographic information that cot might not exactly be warm. The LAAT's weight shifts beneath her feet which beckons a tighten of grip on the overhead rack hanging from troop Compartment's ceiling. Gunship begins to rattle with little thought towards it; normal during atmospheric entry was far from being Scars' first time at this though admittedly she didn't make a habit of going boots first into the abyss without being mounted previously into a sixty-odd ton armoured behemoth. Why carry your weapon when your weapon can carry you? A question most grunts were too dumb to answer and when they did often came with a litany of confusing noises and rambling about 'real men' luckily for Scars she isn't a 'real man' she is something better; a human cyborg trained from birth for combat excellence in all fields with physical capabilities exceeding that of the baseline Human from the belying appearance of thin gaunt woman.

Whirlwind and catastrophe throw Scars into another Trooper "Argh!" The fuselage screams and writhes with door shearing clean away from Transport pulling the Corporal with it who desperately clutches back at the craft with mechanical arm finding fingers met with a rappelling handle shrieking Stormtroopers are thrown from the LAAT/i spiralling towards Dagobah's swamps with a growl Scars thrusts herself into the Dropship again and plummets towards rear of gunship and slams back against with an equally violent crash she's flung again wordlessly forward and smacks against the front of compartment and laid idle for a moment with silence falling over the entire craft the red tactical life crackles and fizzles out with Cybernetic eyes staring towards it from behind cracked visor. Pain is given voice with a brief groan before metal mixed with flesh and bone gives life and renewed Strength, rolling onto stomach she places one hand against darkened floor eyes shimmer emerald behind the visor providing sight in otherwise murky darkness. One-hand finds it's way behind back giving a brief, gentle rub searching around with spheres for survivors. "Shake it off Troopers! Secure the crash site!"

Immediately she goes to take Command but finds no response around the wreckage and then something takes grip of the Stormtrooper's heart; she is alone and who knows how short or over their original landing site, fog steadily rolls into the open Troop compartment. Eyes peer through it for a survivors; Wenck, Rexus. Kneeling beside him Scars draws G-11F Blaster Rifle from holster with right-hand hooking metal fingers between his breastplate and bodysuit and going to give him a violent brutish shake. "Are we moving out, or making love Trooper?! Time to earn your pay-cheque buckethead!" Scars slams Rexus against the ground gracelessly she was no medic and needed to get any survivors up and on the move quickly, there is no telling when the Galactic Alliance and their lackies might descend down upon them the absence of fire had broken advantageous and results in no immediate danger. Scars shoulders the Blaster Rifle tightly and moves from the wreckage leaving Wenck to stirr before peering over the IFF tags of bodies surrounding crashsite. "They wiped us out....." Scars muses quietly to herself and loads a fragmentation into the grenade launcher beneath barrel, she takes a knee beside one of the few Troopers with active vital scenes; Luther Ando. Kneeling beside the dazed or unconscious Soldier while keeping weapon shouldered with index finger hovering above trigger she gives him a shake with thuds against the mud. "Trooper it's time to dance, take off your skirt and get into the fight!" Scars holsters her G-11F before pulling T-8B Precision Carbine free of scabbard charging the short-action and shouldering it, waiting for the two Troopers to Stir turning eyes and aim upwards to the dimly lit-sky with forest canopy and foilage obscuring sight on any circling Alliance Gunships, providing cover for now atleast.

 

[WolfMortum]

​

​

​

Faction: The First Order.​

Enemy: [member="Loto Afu"], The Galactic Alliance & Allies.​

Location: Caehl Ren's Furious Class Corvette.​

Allies In Vicinity: Omega Four-Five-Nine​

Equipment: Caehl Ren's Lightsaber, The Armor of Caehl Ren, The Helm of Caehl Ren.​

​

​

Brennan Cabrol stood within the center of the Corvette's bridge staring out into the abyss, streams of light flashing passed the vessel as if the galaxy itself were trying to swallow them, memories of their last ordeal only twenty four hours ago being brought back, the lines of stars reminding him of the blaster-fire that had come from their Mandalorian intruders, the screams of the Crew of the Executioner being cut down around he and his apprentice [member="Elensa Jari"] as they sought to cut off their invaders before the great vessel could be crippled. Violence influencing his silence, mental images of aggression slowly reinforcing the dark presence that was his aura within the Force. Caehl Ren's attire still held the damages he had taken in the battle, his equipment still dirtied from the smog of explosive charges and clouds of ash and metal shards that had showered them as the interior of the Supreme Leaders vessel had become the target of the enemies focus seeking to take the head from the body of the First Order in predictable fashion, in turn walking directly into their arms as the Knights of Ren welcomed such chaos and the rise to challenge and defeat their opposition.

In the quiet of their brief recovery and the absence of war following the withdrawal of the Galactic Alliances forces, the Executioner had returned to Varonat to undertake repairs and preparations for it's return to duty in the very near future. Caehl Ren had collected his fellow Omega Squadron and taken flight from the flagship's remaining operational Hangar bay in his private craft intent on finding his position on solid ground through this new assignment. [member="Sieger Ren"] had survived, their benevolent Master of the First Order having joined the frey and delighted in the vicious bout his loyal Knights had shared; through his presence alone the First Order had been rallied in great morale and even following the battle, Caehl remained confident having witnessed once again the true might of their Lord, the one true benefactor of glorious peace for the Galaxy's prospective future, a future under the governance and care of the First Order.

The fight to come was going to be arduous yet his command over the Omega Squadron would see their personal plight with Caehl Ren taking control over their fate; [member="Ara Zambrano"] was not with him now, his partner in battle and in service to the Pacanth Expanse had been gravely injured in the blockade, only surviving with the assistance of [member="Samka Derith"] whom was as responsible for their discipline as much so as she was for their continued activity and life within the Order of Ren. They had both been saved by the young Master of Ren now, both grilled for their behaviors and their personal endeavors and yet both Ara and himself had been the target of Decitus Ren's generosity and compassion, contradictive to her typical persona were the actions that whispered her personal favor over their lives.

His priority would be the death of Alliance's Jedi Order and all personnel connected to their sect of the Force. Knowing not whether they would be down on the targeted world of Dagobah, Caehl Ren could only hope that he and the three Knights of Ren on board the Furious Class Corvette would be given a true and bloody challenge. His desire for violence was a personal need to express his great disdain for the way his service had jumped back and fourth between personal embarrassment, failure and success all of which he expected so much more of himself; continuously pushing his limits to strengthen his abilities, to prove his relentless resolve for the might of the Supreme Leader that he might one day be recognized; coming to know himself as an individual, a personality formerly refused, the Knight embodied a maelstrom of dissatisfaction, insecurity and anger, resentment and confusion, fear and through all of these crippling emotions, drawing from his struggle the Dark Side of the Force, intentionally allowing it's curse to possess his physical and mental prowess and to deny all that would welcome him into the field of battle their chance to end his pain.

 

[Asaraa Vaashe]

Location: Dagobah, GA FOB

Allies: GA, SJO, CiS and allies
Enemies: FO and allies

Nearby: [member="Yuroic Xeraic"] | [member="Marl"]
Engaging: N/A

Spoiler: Gear

Armour:

Sasori Armoured Robes
Murr Earings

Weapon:

Asaraa's Lightsaber

Droids:

1 Pack of Pred-X
1 Pack of War-X

A nice relaxing change of pace they'd said. Go do some good, they said, help rebuild a planet after death and devastation, go play with some new toys and just relax a little. For a moment the Togruta felt like kicking at a stone except they were in a swamp, fine a twig or root or something, someone could have mentioned that it was a swamp and she'd have to actually wear her boots. Still, that wasn't a very Jedi impulse, and especially in front of her master the Padawan had to try to be good. And she still did have a few new toys to test out, to put through their paces in the swamp, that'd be a good test of the new droids if nothing else.

Of course, that went out the window, the dissatisfaction and grumpiness at the look on Marl's face as he listened to his radio. Asaraa had fought with Marl before, seen how calm and cool he was under pressure, for something to shake him that badly...it couldn't be good...it wasn't. The Padawan felt the blood draining from her own face as she felt her eyes being drawn up inexorably towards the sky, as if her gaze could peer through the clouds, through the atmosphere to see the fleet she imagined arraying above the planet right now. The young woman's blue eyes flicked down to check on the people around her before centring on Yuroic, taking a deep breath as she steadied those runaway emotions that had started to climb. So they were back, this time they could send them running, they would send the First Order running.

 

[Qymaen sil Jurai]

Location: En route to the surface, leaving fleet and droids under relevance based command structure
Mission: Pick up CIS troops who assisted in the defense against the Galactic Empire - Clean up hostiles from GA space
Allies: GA, GA allies and the CIS
Enemies: First Order and their allies
On board Subjugator II: 501 crew + protocol droids + 30,000 war prepped B1 mk. II battle droids / 10,000 B2 mk. II super battle droids
On board Lucrehulk II: 150 crew + protocol droids + 75,000 war prepped B1 mk. II battle droids / 25,000 B2 mk. II super battle droids
On board Providence II Assault Carrier: 200 crew + 15,000 war prepped B1 mk. II battle droids / 5,000 B2 mk. II super battle droids

​

The thrusters roared to life, the droids took their positions and, with little warning, the scimitar lifted from the hangar floor and tore into the space that lead towards the planets surface. Not moments later, under the pretense that the Imperials still held ground on the surface, the General engaged the stealth systems of the scimitar while continuing his descent. His posture was meticulous, his gaze flicking across the consoles as the ship made it's descent, each of his movements suggested insight beyond what would likely have been associated with him.

As the ship passed over the various ranges of the planets swamp, the sensors of the ship quickly picked up readings on a non-Alliance, or otherwise allied, presence. Flicking the detection sensors off, logging the locations of the questionable forces, the General diverted power to the long range communication systems and submitted a scrambled numeric code to OOM-17.

:repare the landing craft for the transmitted locations. Deploy as you see fit, commander.:: Each note was precise, the code organized so that only the droid could understand it. With that, the General returned his attention to finding the location he had been told the CIS Personnel would be stationed.

Only to notice, all but too late, that the location had been heavily reorganized to what appeared to be a freshly built Forward Operating Base.

Sporting deft ease at the controls of the scimitar, uncharacteristic for a being such as himself, the General brought the dropship down just within the trees near the FOB and began his approach. He would size up the mettle of these Jedi and their Alliance and he would see the Confederacy personnel ushered to his custody unharmed.

All that could be heard and assessed by those within the base? The landing of a sizable craft and the sound of metallic feet clanking and scraping against the metallic floor of the makeshift outpost.

​

Location: Just outside orbit of Dagobah, undertaking the orders of the General
Mission: Pick up CIS troops who assisted in the defense against the Galactic Empire - Clean up hostiles from GA space
Allies: GA, GA allies and the CIS
Enemies: First Order and their allies
On board Subjugator II: 501 crew + protocol droids + 30,000 war prepped B1 mk. II battle droids / 10,000 B2 mk. II super battle droids
On board Lucrehulk II: 150 crew + protocol droids + 75,000 war prepped B1 mk. II battle droids / 25,000 B2 mk. II super battle droids
On board Providence II Assault Carrier: 200 crew + 15,000 war prepped B1 mk. II battle droids / 5,000 B2 mk. II super battle droids

OOM-17 did not hesitate. Upon receiving the message from his superior, an order that his programming responded to easily, the command droid turned and faced the massive C-9979s before him on a holoprojection from the Lucrehulk II.

::Commander, once those transports are finished loading they are to be deployed to the General's relayed locations. Alliance Forward Operating Base and Force Nexus are primary locations, secondary locations are designated for patrol operations.:: The droid relayed with mechanical voice as it walked the span of the Subjugator's hangar. ::Broadcast friendly alerts upon atmospheric break. I will be taking a battalion to the General's location and oversee operations after you make landfall.::

It was with that said, and any straggling MTTs loaded into their proper bays, that four C-9979 landing craft began their departure and descent towards the surface of the swamp world. Even as they passed the safety of the Lucrehulk's weapon array a contingent of vulture droids broke away from their cluster to escort them.

While the General and his personnel were unaware as to who they would be facing, there was no doubt that the forces deployed were delivered with the intent of suppressing any offensive push. Fighters taking into account any enemy opposition to the craft's landing, the craft breaking off from their grouping to reach their designated locations, one thing was made proficiently clear.

The Confederacy would defend the ground of their personnel and allies to the last. War had once again come to Dagobah and the Confederacy would meet it.

[member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Aryn Teth"] | [member="Katrine Van-Derveld"] | [member="Srina Talon"] | [member="Asaraa Vaashe"] | [member="Sol Stazi"] | [member="Lyra Sunfell"] | [member="Kip Hollaran"] | [member="Tanaski Yumi"] | [member="Tiland Kortun"] | [member="Marl"]
Note: Will add more tags as I collect them

Summary of actions:

Spoiler

General Qymaen "General Grievous" sil Jurai made landfall and approached the FOB.

Lucrehulk deployed four C-9979 Landing Craft toward the surface of Dagobah under direct order of OOM-17. One to the FOB, one to the known Force Nexus and two to two random locations near the hostile landing zones for reconnaissance.

20 Vulture II droids escort for each C-9979 detached from defensive cluster on the Lucrehulk.

Fleet has taken no other action save maintaining it's defensive position.

 

[Samka Derith]

Location: FIV Concordia Med Bay >> Surface of Dagobah​

Allies: [member="Ara Zambrano"] | [member="Elensa Jari"] | The First Order​

Enemies: The Galactic Alliance​

​

Samka averted her eyes as the woman stepped out of the bacta tank. As usual, the person within the tank had been barely clothed to aid the healing process. Out of respect for basic decency, the young Ren elected not to look back at the woman as they spoke but to keep her gaze fixated upwards at a panel on the ceiling.

"The meal comes later," Samka said, continuing to gaze upwards until the woman was dressed. "First we have a job to do."

"And, yes," she said dryly with a small gesture to the burn on her face, "I'm perfectly fine, thank you for your concern."

"When do we dispatch?"

"Immediately. Follow me."

As Samka turned on her heels to leave, her gaze dwindled on the Acolyte. Elensa was the weakest of them by her relative inexperience and with her injury, normal circumstances would force Samka to command the woman stay behind for her own safety. But today, for this task, the woman was perfect as she was.

"You too," she instructed.

With that, the young Ren set a pace for the hanger, skipping in her typically jovial manner.

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

​

The Concordia had exited hyperspace incredibly close to Dagobah's atmosphere, its commanders gambling that the assault by the Galactic Empire had damaged the Alliance's defences enough that they would not be intercepted. Here Dagobah's natural interference would mask the ship's precise location. There the ship would deploy individual drop pods, fired far across the planet's surface containing individuals to complete their objectives on the surface.

Among them was Decitus Ren.

The door of her pod blew off falling into the water bellow. It didn't splash, the water was far too muddy for that, instead it just gradually sank.

"Hm," the head of the petite girl poked out of the pod to study her surroundings. It seemed she'd landed in a tree looking over a bog. Delicately, Samka manoeuvred her way out of the pod to balance atop the branches, utilising her ability as a gymnast to do so. She could feel Ara and Elensa nearby, the two women wouldn't have landed far away.

She looked down at the mud, the filth, the dirt and sighed. It didn't bother her as much as it used to but she still much preferred to be pampered than wallowing in filth. Seeing bubbles rise from the bog, she decided that she'd keep to high ground for the moment, there were plenty of trees to allow that movement. So she hopped from tree to tree as balanced and graceful as she could manage following the auras of her fellow Ren. The Dark Side was strong here but it didn't blot out their signatures.

Still it seemed the Dark Side whispered in her mind, a mix of encouragement and seduction. It wanted her here, it needed her here. She'd been chosen, after all, to cleanse this planet of the Jedi who thought they could tame it.