Where It Began [First Order Dominion of Eriadu [Hex N-47]

[Krayn]

Objective #1​

There had been a Jedi once, who had come to Eriadu in the pursuit of dark rumours and whispered threats. A member of the Republic the young Jedi Knight had come alongside his old friend and master at the behest of the Council who had feared Sith activity which was much to do with the One Sith War that had been blazing its way through Republic space at the time.
The Jedi knight however had searched high and low upon the planet, finding not a single trace of a Sith. Instead he found something far different and much more dangerous.

“Join me child and bring true unity to the galaxy.”

————

The various sounds of war both distant and near filled the air, each explosion and dull thud of far away artillery muffled through the inputs of his helmet. Occasionally one would make a burst of static that would draw a sharp hiss from the Ren but for the most part the helmet kept the noises and lights of distraction away. Before him lay several units of Stormtroopers, each at calm and ease as they prepared for their orders from a command element that had happily settled into siege warfare to drive the rats from the holes that they had constructed beneath the city.

Eriadu City had, in the junior years of the Order been reduced to dust. The warships of the emerging First Order fleet having released continual bombardment as the Order retreated from the system at the risk of the as-young Galactic Alliance moving full force against them. The very factories that had secretly constructed the Fleet burnt along with each and every building that had once been hailed the greatest city in the system. It had of course been rebuilt, yet for those that had seen the magnificence of the place before the firestorm no replacement would ever hold true to the memory.

A distant explosion caused a couple of nearby stormtroopers to look towards the source, a building, which seemed to be a skeleton of the past began to collapse after being hit by something fired by the First Order, potentially burying resistance forces beneath it.
He could hope anyway. These rats were particularly stubborn.

“My Lord Ren, would do we owe this pleasure.” Torvik, one of the young First Order lieutenants who had from time to time aided the Messenger on his duties announced as he approached the dark robes of one belonging to the Order’s dedicated force user clan.

“I have my task.” The Ren spoke, the modulator as ever twisting his voice beneath. “You will aid me with it.”

“As descriptive as ever I see.” The young man smirked. “Yet as you can see my men are currently enjoying the ever lasting hospitality of the local Eriadians.” He motioned towards the makeshift outpost that was smeared in the mud and ash of a stalemate war. “Unless you propose we singlehandedly take a position that has seen weeks of battering ourselves against it.” he was going to laugh when he caught the Ren’s change in posture.

“If we must, the bunker lies in my way.” Removing his saber from his belt the Ren began to move towards the entrance of the outpost, purposeful steps filling Torvik with a mix of annoyance and pride.

“By the Leader.” He raised a comm-unit to his mouth. “All units prepare to assault.” He removed the small communicator. “Bloody Ren. Will be the death of me.”

 

[Varian Alaric]

Location| Eastern Redoubt, Sector Four, Eriadu
Objective| Objective I
Allies| [member="Marriskcal Lati"] | [member="Racosidae"]
Nearby Allies| [member="Konstantin Makarev"] | [member="Krayn Ren"] | [member="Seto de Couteau"] | [member="Dorean Primulus"] | [member="Chandana Kay"]

Equipment| 2x Lightsabers (crimson), RAKGHOUL Armor
Status| Determined

"Ready––to kick ass and take… er names? What does ‘taking names’ even mean?"

Primat couldn't help but laugh at the comment Marriskcal had made. Even though the two didn't connect as good as they used to now, he still greatly enjoyed her comments. Especially these type of comments, the ones that made him laugh out loud in joy and humor at what she had said. He wasn't overly sure what the phrase was exactly that Marr was quoting, though he head heard it plenty of times before in holo-movies to know that it was some well-known quote...but he didn't know the exact quote. So for all he knew, she could be saying it completely wrong and he would be none the wiser about it. That thought made him smile under his helmet, as he replied to her. "Uh, I'm not sure exactly! Maybe it mean...'take names' as in, take names for people to...meet? I don't know in all honesty," Primat voice was mechanical as he spoke through his helmet, though the joyful tone was still prevalent through the helmet. A tone that even shocked him as he had been feeling...a bit emotionally down as of late.

Primat's eye jumped to Racosidae. He was still unsure of this other Ren, though he still trusted her. After all, they were both members of the Order of Ren...their wasn't really any reason for him to not trust her. Primat just wasn't sure as to how to approach Racosidae and talk to her. And it didn't help any when she licked her bottom teeth, showing a sharp looking pair of canines. It seemed like the rumors were true, that she was an energy vampire of some sort. Something which was much to his displeasure, Just the thought of those teeth sinking into someone's neck made him shiver in fear. But, Primat didn't let those thoughts hamper his ability to talk to the female Ren. He needed to get to know the rest of the Ren anyways. He only knew Seto, Varas, Marr, and he kind of knew the Eighth Guard...but not really. "My name's Primat...and this is Marriskcal. I look forward to us working together on this mission!"

 

[Progflaw99]

Location: Phelar Port
Objective: II. Encourage Support
Nearby: [member="Shoma Ike"] | [member="Jomasom Leuf"]

"Hai Heika." Odile responded, a half bow at the waist in response to his commentary. Mr. Kimura hadn't intended on speaking quite so loudly but having done so, he was relieved to hear the Crown Prince's response. The brief conversation, if one could call it that, was interrupted by the distant appearance of the Herglic with which they were to meet. A mister Gutspar. Odile mused to himself as he set eyes on the approaching representative. It was the first time Mr. Kimura had seen a Herglic - despite his mild surprise he kept his features drawn tight, as was customary.​

​

As the Herglic approached and the Crown Prince spoke Odile bowed at the waist, lower this time, as did the rest of the small entourage. Upon rising, Odie adjusted his gold rimmed glasses before folding his hands behind himself.​

 

[Mellifluous Magenta]

Thrall Chandana Kay
Post 2
Objective: 1
Location: Eastern Redoubt, Sector Four
Equipment: F-11D Blaster Rifle, Hekler’Kok LA-1 Light Armor, Black Balaclava, NADIR P-SERIES Combat Knife, Vibroblade w/ Mono-molecular Edge, Gas Mask, 2 Flash-bang Grenades
Allies: [member="Racosidae"], [member="Konstantin Makarev"], [member="Primat Ren"], [member="Konstantin Makarev"], [member="Marriskcal Lati"], [member="Dorean Primulus"], [member="Seto Du Couteau"], and [member="Krayn Ren"]

The filthy, sewer-like conditions surrounding the underground fortification quickly made it difficult for Chandana to maintain her breath and in turn, to keep her stamina up. As she strapped a gas mask across her face, the auxiliary and stormtrooper assault forces advanced a few paces closer to the capitol fortress, while hostile resistance elements seemed to quickly thin out. The barrage of heavy blaster began to slightly let up, and most of the enemy soldiers who had been occupying the lower ground level had retreated into the relative safety of the capitol fortress and behind the expansive shield which protected them from artillery bombardment.

Sensing the opportunity, stormtrooper and auxiliary infantry elements emerged from cover and advanced closer to the fortress. With orders from her squad leader, Chandana did so as well, her rifle lowered as she began to sprint across the somewhat open space to reach the final trench before the base level of the fortress.

Before she had taken ten strides, an abrupt burst of lethal sound rendered her hearing useless. Out of the corner of her eye, she spotted the broken and impacted bodies of an entire auxiliary squad as they were thrown into the air like weightless ragdolls. The violently painful ringing sensation in her ears sent the diminutive thrall sprawling to the filthy ground, but not before she witnessed another group of soldiers, this time clad in the distinctive white-armor of the stormtrooper corps get launched into the air as well. A single white-armor clad leg landed next to her, and it prompted her to raise her head from the soiled earth.

It was then that she fully processed the scale of the chaos happening around her.

At seemingly random, yet frequent intervals, broken limbs and bodies were sent flying into the air as the vibration of explosions beset Chandana's seemingly broken eardrums. For a moment, the magenta-haired auxiliary found herself questioning the validity of her senses, and wondering if she had suddenly stepped foot into a spontaneous and frightening daymare. However, when she reached a hand out to touch the white-armor clad leg next to her, to her terror, the errant limb did not fail under the influence of her tactile senses.

Quite simply, it was real.

Across the underground battlefield, Hibridium motivated landmines which were invisible to the eye discharged their lethal payload as the First Order forces began to cross the final paces of sewage-covered ground in front their objectives. Walkers toppled to the ground and broken bodies were sent flying through the air. The spaces in front of the power generator, the capitol fortress, and the other important strategic structures were rigged with the devices, and at that moment, the assault forces seemed ill-equipped to deal with the invisible threat.

 

[Mellifluous Magenta]

Flight Officer Rowena Ewesa, Pixie 7
Post 1
Objective: 3
Location: Eriadu Orbit
Equipment/Ship: Comet OSM-10, Flight Suit, TIE/SF - Conqueror
Allies: [member="Cynthia Alucard"] and [member="Robogeber"]

At first glance, Rowena's cabin was a picture-perfect model of the professional, orderly, and systematic practices embodied by the First Imperial Starfighter Corps. Her room was utterly spotless, unadorned, and austere in appearance. It had a sterile and clean scent, in a manner similar to that of a hospital. If it were not for the neat arrangement of paperback books, grooming supplies, and other amenities stored within the transparent lockers, the room would have seem unlived in. However, underneath and in many cases, hidden within the forbidding sterility of the cabin was a repository of drug paraphernalia. Needles, sealed bags, and other tools were neatly, strategically, and systematically stashed away in various locations within the room. The placement of the illegal items was deliberately planned in order to withstand an extensive search of the room via scanner and sniffer.

One could never guess that the room's sole occupant had just finished shooting up.

Rowena Ewesa stood at attention in front of the door to her room, with left her hand raised in the First Imperial salute. Her custom-built helmet, which was designed to comfortably accommodate the proportions of her ears, was vacuum-sealed along with her flight suit. When ordered, Rowena relieved herself of the salute and marched in an efficient and orderly fashion to the hangar, towards her waiting TIE interceptor.

 

[Armand Temi]

Objective: Root out Jedi
Location: Phelar City
Post: 3
Allies: [member="Rahsah"]

Eriadu was a mess of a planet ecologically, but then again when you were born on a dark and wet world like Kamino, anything dry seemed like a welcome change. And Varas had been spending so much time with Primat - welcome hours for sure - and Marr that she was curious about the new Praetorian initiate she would be paired with for this operation. Her father she had not seen since the Ren celebration a couple weeks back, but then again perhaps the distance had been good for their relationship.

The brunette Knight approached the silver-haired Echani, not certain she’d been that close to one of that race before. This would be an excellent test for a Force Dead Praetorian as Sieger Ren would be targeted by the strongest Jedi Masters in the galaxy.

Without a formal greeting, Varas said, “There’s a small enclave of citizens that we believe to be supporting the Reformation, some with use of the Force and others in collusion with them.”

A map was pulled up on her datapad and finally she smiled, slightly amused by the more unconventional nature of what they’d be doing.

“We will be heading to the Bay of Conquest. There’s an island there which is rumored to have a Reformation cell. Our mission is to capture the Force users for indoctrination into the Ren and kill the rest.”

Varas walked the Praetorian to a small fishing boat.

“I hope you don’t get sea sick.”

 

[Jomasom Leuf]

Objective: BYOO
Post: 4
Location: Phelar Port
Allies: [member="Shoma Ike"] [member="Odile Kimura"]

The Herglic’s mass was a minor distraction and at times, the walking whale nearly blocked Eriadu’s sun, so much that Jomasom revelled in the welcome shade. Didn’t the First Order slaughter a large pod of space whales above Skor recently? Surely the two species were part of the same genus, and he wondered if the creature gave a thought to his distant, distant relatives being murdered in such a vile way.

There was likely some traditional greeting that Joma had forgotten to perform - a bow, hands positioned a certain way, a phrase in Atrisian, flapping of non-existent fins, but he was a businessman not an anthropologist.

“Prince Ike, Mister Gutspar and those of the Atrisian delegation.” He looked at Mr. Kimura, not knowing the man’s name. “My name is Captain Jomasom Leuf of the West Rim Trading Company.” He had an awareness that his personality could be somewhat overbearing and yes, it was difficult for him to not want to steer the conversation to a direction that was more fortuitous to his interests, but he merely said, “I am honored to have been invited and look forward to how the WRTC can assist in intergalactic trade discussions.”

 

[Rahsah]

Objective 4
Post II
Allies: [member="Varas Ren"]

Varas wasn't as expected; composed and mission-oriented rather than power driven. That felt different from the usual of those trying to hold something over her. People that did that usually drew ire as a response, but the Ren made no show of being of higher standing, treating her as an accomplice rather than an underling. Respect was earned, normally, and here given freely as a result of treatment. There was no sense of agitation at being designated to work with Varas. Less could be said of some of the others previously worked under.

"I don't get motion sickness so I doubt I will get seasick," she assured her companion.

As they approached the docks the contemplation of a boat ride did bring on a little anxiety. Having never been in a boat before, not one on the water, she couldn't be completely sure that what she had said was accurate. There was the possibility of a wave of seasickness. However, it did seem unlikely given a lot of the experiences of the past. Motion training. Spaceflight. None of those had caused trouble. Even riding a rickshaw on wheels hadn't induced motion sickness. There was little cause for concern as she climbed aboard.

The mission was straightforward. Capture the Jedi and Force attuned sympathizers, slaughter the rest. Some had difficulty facing Force practitioners when they weren't such themselves. She did not. Being Force Dead, a random affliction associated with her birth, meant not having to worry about people trying to mess with her mind or even sensing a presence. A ghost. White as one, too. The enemy of those who sought to manipulate the Order into what they wanted. They had no right to even contemplate taking action against the Order, or seeking to change it. The Supreme Leader was in charge, and she would enforce that rule.

"Sounds straightforward, once we find them. I will follow your lead and watch your back."

 

[Cynthia Alucard]

Captain (Jr. Grade) Cynthia "Cyn" Alucard
Designation: Pixie Leader
Classification: Fighter Interception Squadron (8)
Allies: [member="Robogeber"] and [member="FN-0000"]

Objective III​

​

Cynthia returned the salute of Pixie's newest member, after their losses sustained from their battle over Skor it had become apparent they could not rely on former Galactic Imperial forces to replenish their ranks. Not a bad thing at all, really we should get to know our First Order brothers and sisters more if anything. Cynthia mused on the thought for a few more seconds before she gave the new Pixie pilot a nod and "Form up," order.

The young TIE Captain actually was surprised at how much shorter her new Pilot was compared to herself. Back when she was a mere Flight Officer back when Pixies were an Interceptor Wing Command Cynthia herself was the shortest of the bunch. Perhaps it was all the light teasing and joking that had transpired but Cynthia both relaxed and tensed back up at the thought of no longer being the shortest.

Poor Lass, Cynthia thought as she continued to march into the hanger bay, the rest of Pixies already heading towards their designated spot in front of their Leader's TIE for the mission briefing. While the Fleet had began to move into position for an engagement of attack, Pixie Squadron awaited for the attack to commence. While the fight had not been thought of to be overall large, and the scale of the engagement small in comparison to other combat missions.

As the rest of the Pilots lined up in front of Cynthia she cleared her throat and removed her helmet to address her Squadron. Her hair tied neatly into a bun and her eyes narrowed and focused in front of her pilots, "-Pixies, our new Enemy has been reported to offer up resistance to the First Order in vain hope to kill as many of us as possible. As such our overall objective is to not grant the enemy the pleasure of seeing any of us turn into scrap out there." Cyn explained, her voice articulated each word carefully.

She closed her eyes momentarily and offered a small bow of her head to them, "-As you know, our recent losses has left us under strength. Fortunately the First Order has given us one of their best. Flight Officer Rowena Ewesa," Cyn gestured towards the new Pilot before she added, "-Our newest Pixie Seven,"

"Now, all of you Prep your TIEs. We dust off in Eight and not a second after," Cyn ordered as she saluted quickly and turned back to her TIE and pulled up a data slate. "Oh, Pixie Seven, a word please." She called out to her newest Pilot.

Cynthia waited a moment before addressing Rowena. "I haven't yet read your full dossier, apparently I only needed to know a the bare essentials, but from what I was privy to you had some of the best scores at the Academy and graduated in the top of your class. Is there a reason why you were commissioned instead of being requested specifically from any other Wing Commander?" Cyn asked, her eyes curious and her features softened a tad. While never one to refuse gifted pilots and potential Aces, Cynthia was particular about any new pilot. Perhaps afraid of losing another, or simply unwilling to readily accept change.

 

[Mellifluous Magenta]

Flight Officer Rowena Ewesa, Pixie 7
Post 2
Objective: 3
Location: Eriadu Orbit
Equipment/Ship: Comet OSM-10, Flight Suit, TIE/SF - Conqueror
Allies: [member="Cynthia Alucard"] and [member="Robogeber"]

The comical discrepancy between Rowena's diminutive stature and the height of her squad mates only seemed more pronounced when the squad formed up. Not to mention, the manner in which the left and right sides of the large-eared Elzeri's helmet protruded slightly upward like a pair of antennae. Indeed, the woman seemed as alien as the First Imperial Starfighter Corps allowed in its ranks. However, the over-sized appendages were extremely useful for acoustics.

Rowena listened quietly to her youthful squad leader's impromptu briefing. Normally, when attention was called to her in such a sudden manner, the small pilot would have exhibited a few subtle signs of shyness or apprehension. However, under the calming, yet intense influence of the glitterstim, Rowena was thoroughly unfazed by the direct address. She stood perfectly still, with her hands locked behind her back in a stoic and military pose.

When the quick briefing ended, Rowena turned to jog towards her fighter, but had not started moving when her captain called her over.

Once more, Rowena was calm and collected as she approached her captain. Back at the academy, she had been a mess of crimson-tinted cheeks and quiet hyperventilation when a superior officer asked for a one-on-one meeting. However, this time was different. This time, she was baked.

After taking off her helmet in order to speak to her captain, Rowena's dilated pupils focused their gaze in an uncomfortably tense manner towards Cynthia's soft and relaxed features. It wasn't immediately obvious that the Elzeri was intoxicated. For all intents and purposes, she seemed to be paying attention to her captain. However, every single gesture she took, subtle or not, seemed exaggerated and abstract.

"I am presently unaware of anything pertaining to that matter, captain." Rowena replied in a voice that seemed to be too loud for the conversation, even with the surrounding hustle and bustle of the hangar. "I would surmise that perhaps it had something to do with my near-human racial status or external politics of an...unknown nature." The Elzeri continued in an uncharacteristically confident tone. "Perhaps finishing as valedictorian of my class, rather than merely, 'in the top' would have been enough to overcome the invisible barriers that prevented me from being requested."

 

[Omari Ngao]

Objective: 1

He was getting used to it, he was pretty sure.

The rapid descent from orbit within a drop pod.

He remembered his first time in one, his eyes had rolled up into his head and he had been sick. But now? It was beginning to feel like second nature. Of course there was still the feeling of what felt like his stomach raising into his throat, but he elected to ignore that.

Instead, he checked the rapidly lowering numbers that showed he was closing in on his target and for a moment, he paused, frozen in surprise, before he did his best to change his pod's trajectory. But too late, it was already crashing through the roof and following floors of some building close to his target.

[member="Castiel Moncrief"]

 

[Graf's Archive Account]

Major Dorean Primulus, Stormtrooper Corps​

Equipment: Senior Officer Combat Uniform - Heavy Blaster Pistol​

Location: Sector 3, Eastern Redoubt, Eriadu​

Status: Objective I - Bunker Busting​

​

​

Things were beginning to turn in favour of the 338th, and by extension the First Imperial Military. Dorean observed through the helmet-cam of one of Aurek Company's lieutenants as they and their complement of stormtroopers swiftly drove the enemy back one block at a time before beginning the descent to where the underground power generator had been initially detected by ComScan. The major inhaled another drink of whiskey from the flask hidden away in his trench coat, keeping his eyes glued to the feed while his men dispatched a few of the rebels attempting to ambush them.

Once the area was deemed clear, they confidently called for an engineer to safely shut down the power generator. The corners of Primulus' mouth raised into a smirk; at any rate, they knew as well as he did that if they destroyed that generator, they'd never hear the end of it from the government for 'waste of useful assets'. Nevertheless, things became rather quiet outside as all enemy anti-aircraft fire ceased almost immediately; apparently, the insurgency had never heard of power storage.

This almost meant one thing: the shield was down.

It was time to commence phase two.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

Location: Phelar Port
Objective: 2 - Garner Support
Interacting with: [member="Jomasom Leuf"] | [member="Odile Kimura"]
Equipment: [ the look ] [ lightsaber ] [ hololink ]

Another joined them.

An officer with one of the trade conglomerates operating in the region. That was fortunate and most welcome, to say the least. As much as Shoma wanted to come to some kind of trade agreement between Ediadu and Atrisia, there would be the matter of the logistics of moving lommite across the considerable distance between their respective worlds.

The addition of a trade company to the talks gave promise to the notion that they might be able to address that problem directly. The only question was what kind of tariffs, taxes, or fees that was going to impose on the lommite as a result. But, one problem at a time...

"Captain Leuf," the Atrisian noble noted, giving the man a bow. As he straightened back up, the teen indicated the older man who stood off to one side. "May I introduce Mister Kimura," the youth said. He omitted just what role or title that Mister Kimura held. In part because Shoma wasn't entirely certain himself. But then, leadership or power required no title. Kimura was an officer of the law, that much he knew. Any more than that was not really necessary, at least in Shoma's mind.

"Perhaps, you have some thoughts on the financial viability of lommite exports to the Core Region," the teen commented, turning the focus of the conversation back on Captain Leuf.

Put the ball in his court and see how the proverbial play moved across the field.

 

[Armand Temi]

Objective: Root out Jedi
Location: Heading to island in the Bay of Conquest
Post: 5
Allies: [member="Rahsah"]

It didn’t take long for Varas’s seriousness to break, however. To be honest, once she was away from anyone in a true leadership position, her tone became less severe and a casualness took over her whole demeanor.

As they boarded the boat, both would see a few junior operatives of the FOSB who were also among their crew to help aid in the mission. But since this was a Force-related capture-or-kill exercise, the Knight was in charge.

“Eriadu is so polluted that most of its edible fish and shellfish is imported. But there’s one type of fish called the Heoth, which can not only survive the toxic waters, but is apparently a very delicious filet when paired with butter and lemon. It’s as simple as that. We don’t need special technology to get to these Jedi. They apparently are very fond of marine life.”

They set out towards the island, about an hour’s ride from where they were presently. Varas was posing as the Captain of the vessel, a role she wasn’t entirely confident in, but she reasoned it would not take long until she was saber-skewering anyone suspicious of her disguise. Rahsah was her co-Captain. The boat stank of fish and oil from the waste-filled ocean. A conversation with the white haired Praetorian would be a welcome distraction.

“Where do you come from, Initiate?”

 

[Cynthia Alucard]

Captain (Jr. Grade) Cynthia "Cyn" Alucard
Designation: Pixie Leader
Classification: Fighter Interception Squadron (8)
Allies: [member="Robogeber"] and [member="Rowena Ewesa"]

Cynthia raised a single eyebrow, a questioned formed in her mind but as her internal clock counted down she only nodded instead. "Very well, I thank you for your candor response," Cyn responded, her eyes narrowed and her hands grasped for her helmet. Her face covered and once more her helmet made a quick snap hiss sound as her flight suit sealed. She kept her gaze steady on her new Pixie, as now Pixie Seven was her responsibility. Another life to lead and care for.

"When we break formation, Pixie Eight will be your Wingman. A terrible conversationalist but greatly makes up for it with his piloting." Cyn added, her hands now grabbed her data slate, her fingers collapsed the device and swiftly placed it back into her chest pocket. "-Unless you have a question to ask of me, you may run your Prep Flight checks and ready for dust off." Cyn explained, her eyes through her helmet kept a steady gaze on those impossibly large eyes.


"Cynthia Alucard?"

"Yes"

"Not exactly the height I orginally imagined. But I guess our TIE seats are adjustable,"

Cynthia looked none to happy about the comment of height, but it was her superior, and apparently his attempt of a form of camaraderie. Regardless, she remained at a parade rest in front of her new Wing Commander and had been offered to be his second of the new Pixie Squadron. If it only took a few jokes and snide comments of height to join an elite squadron, such a price easily paid.

"Well Lieutenant Alucard, congratulations you've made my shortlist,"

Maybe there were prices not so easily paid.

"Welcome aboard Pixie Two," Her Wing Commander added with a nod.

Cyn smiled in spite of herself.

"Also, I wish to personally welcome you to Pixie Squadron, Pixie Seven. Rest assure that as your Squad Leader my priority will always be my pilots that serve with me." Cynthia spoke, her head bowed forward towards Pixie Seven for a brief moment before she straightened herself.

 

[Rahsah]

Objective 4
Post III
Allies: [member="Varas Ren"]

"So follow the fish then," she said, tilting her head in thought.

It seemed kind of odd. Normally Jedi were inclined to take care of the environment and clean up messes. Here it seemed they had no intention of doing that. In fact, it seemed like they were more inclined to take advantage than anything. Which oddly raised the question about why these Jedi thought they could do things better while neglecting to do anything about their current surroundings. The First Order would clean this place up much better than the Jedi ever would. Well, that was a valid reason for crushing them.

There were other operatives on the boat, too, but it seemed that Varas had calmed down a little bit once they were underway. Not that she was uptight before, but even less so now. Some way or other it felt like Varas was going to be fun to be around. Or, at least, there wouldn't be the undesired pressure of having to live up to a higher standard. Instead, she could live up to it without the pressure. Hopefully. Mostly. Of course, then she realized that Varas was talking again and so looked up to meet her gaze.

"I'm from Eshan. Which means I'm not human, though related."

The question was, would she despise her for not being human?

 

[Mellifluous Magenta]

Flight Officer Rowena Ewesa, Pixie Seven
Post 3
Objective: 3
Location: Eriadu Orbit
Equipment/Ship: Comet OSM-10, Flight Suit, TIE/SF - Conqueror
Allies: [member="Cynthia Alucard"] and [member="Robogeber"]

"The objective is coherent according to my interpretation, and I do not have any questions at this time." Rowena stated in a blissfully straightforward tone, as she set her helmet back over her head once more, the distinctively satisfying snap-hiss fluttering against her pointed ears when the helmet vacuum-sealed itself against her flight suit.

Rowena returned Cynthia's bow with a slight nod of her head, before looking the taller woman in her visor and giving her a swift salute. "Thank you, captain."

With that, Rowena took her leave and turned to walk towards her assigned TIE. Upon reaching the craft, she placed her hands on the rungs of the boarding ladder and began to climb up and into her craft.

"Pixie Seven! That's not your fighter!" One of the technicians spoke from below Rowena. "Your TIE is the next one to the right." She added, pointing to the next fighter adjacent to the one Rowena was climbing into.

"Umm...are you sure-"

"Technician! This seat is too small!" One of the pilots emerged from the craft, seemingly annoyed based upon the exasperated tone of his voice. "Was this made for a child?!" He continued. "It needs to be replaced, immediately!"

The unfortunate technician looked to the diminutive Elzeri on the ladder, and back to the angered pilot in the craft. "Umm sir...I think it's...made for...her." She clarified softly, as she pointed to the tiny pilot on the ladder.

"Oh." The pilot stated simply, his expression a mix of embarrassment and shame as he realized his mistake before leaping down from craft (without bothering to use the ladder) and walking to the opposite side of the hangar without another word.

Rowena finished her climb and entered the central pod of the craft itself. On account of the unknown pilot's intrusion into her craft, the seat was poorly-adjusted. But, if it was any consolation to her, he didn't seem to be one of the Pixies. She couldn't imagine having to fly with the likes of him.

After adjusting her seat, Rowena powered on the electronics and the droid brain of her fighter, before priming the twin ion engines for take off.

"Pixie Seven; ready and standing by."

The glitterstim's effects were powerful enough to ease any sense of anxiety she would have held at this being her first real sortie. It amplified her focus to a razor-sharp edge, allowing her to concentrate on the dangerous mission ahead of her, without having to navigate the complexities of her emotions and mental breakdowns. In much the same vein, the drug also staved off the panic attacks that were triggered by tight spaces, which had constantly hounded her ever since the time she had been forced into a drying machine as a part of a hazing ritual. Quite simply, she wouldn't have been able to pilot a TIE without it, let alone remain in a stable enough mental state to be eligible for military service.

 

[Progflaw99]

Objective I:

Another day, another drop. Endless war was the name of the game when it came to the Auxiliary. A daily fight to stay alive within its ranks or a battle on another world swallowed up by the First Order and her war machine. It didn't much matter for the Auxiliary Sergeant - at least for now. A more pressing concern was the thrall opposite the hulking Sergeant, retching as the pod rattled during its descent. *Disgusting.* Castiel spat on the durasteel beneath his feet. *This is the swill we get? Fething unbelievable.* Castiel had spent the greater part of the last five years in the Auxiliary and with each one passing it seemed they were getting weaker and weaker replacements.

Castiel's teeth rattled as they reached terminal velocity, the ringing in his ears sending pain coursing through his temples as his eardrums threatened to pop. *Here we go.* The Sergeant had been on enough of these drops to pretty accurately tell when they were about to hit. He hadn't been wrong - well, not really anyway. The first contact against the hull of the pod nearly sent it spinning, the large smokestack shattering into hundreds of pieces above the streets. The second contact was more solid. *The ground.*

Mechanical grinding could be heard as the pod struggled to release the hatch, an apocalyptic clang erupting as it finally broke free. They had arrived.

[member="Omari Vyken"]​

 

[Progflaw99]

Location: Phelar Port
Objective: II. Encourage Support
Nearby: [member="Shoma Ike"] | [member="Jomasom Leuf"]

As the other man approached Odile appraised him with narrowed eye. *The West Rim Trading Company.* He made a mental note to investigate this further. While trade interior to the First Order wouldn't encounter too many issues there would be service fees, costs accrued during the long trek from Atrisia through Order patrolled space, and then back out towards the world of Eraidu - of course, assuming the Order didn't impose other taxes to their goods. It was a gamble, but with the WTRC making an appearance, it would ease the weight of responsibility nicely - provided they could come to an agreement.

The man spoke loudly, at least directly. Forward. Almost as if inserting himself into the very forefront of the group. Mr. Kimura of course held no opinion, just made mental notes. Being observant was one of his better traits. He stood silently, peering through his lenses until introduced. With a half bow, he uttered a simple greeting.

"A pleasure to meet you Mr. Leuf."​

​

Stepping back into the Crown Prince's wake, he listened attentively as the discussion progressed.

 

[Kier Grey]

Kyli DT-6767
Eriadu Surface, Near Capitol Building

Spoiler: Equipment

• Blackwing Electro-Sword
• C-25 Fragmentation Grenade
• FastTurn-3 Hydrospanner
• G-6E Light Repeating Blaster
• G-12A Blaster Rifle
• Mark/VII DARKSABER [DELTA] Advanced Powered Combat Armour
• Plasma Torch
• Stuncuffs

Nearby: [member="Omari Vyken"], [member="Castiel Moncrief"]
Objective #: One (Support Vyken, Shocktroopers and Auxiliary in their objective to Search for and destroy insurrectionist/insurgent elements)

Pair of clenched armoured gauntlets arm each four of the explosive bolts within a second before leaning into the seat with a pained groan under the armoured hulk belonging to one of the First Order's Death Troopers and their foremost Sniper. Kyli holds the G-12A Blaster Rifle across her knees as the door explodes away from the pod with a deafening roar for nearby personnel to hear. The Ominous matte black power armoured figure standing nigh seven feet tall turns in the direction of Sergeant Moncrief and Vyken who she had been deployed to support in the high-risk operation, truthfully Kyli inwardly thought she could have single-handedly destroyed the Resistance presence which made her conclude that command desired to make a theatrical display, an overt and obnoxious display of naked force and power.

Spotting one of the conspicuous sealed doors in the distance about three-hundred meters down the street is an ostensibly unguarded sewage access door, that was their ingress down into disgusting warrens that no doubt waited beneath. It didn't matter to the Death Trooper who had fought and survived the Undead legions on Mephout. "Sergeant Moncrief and Maalraas, I'll be taking point watch your friendly fire." The femininity of Kyli's voice contrasted fiercely to her vicious and intimidating countenance. Clad head-to-toe in the finest technology fielded and issued by the First Order to one of its' soldiers and biochemically augmented to be without peer physiologically, the First Imperial Military portrayed their Death Troopers as Gods of War who couldn't be killed and that propaganda had yet to be proven wrong in the slightest.

The fearsome reputation wasn't lost on a pair of Shocktroopers who followed behind Vyken, one gawking beneath his helmet at the sight of such a giant wearing armour that made him feel somewhat self-conscious but also a new relief from crippling anxiety in the knowledge on of their very own turned war-god now stood with them. "A Death Trooper!? Oh Fortan's mercy, yes! You hear that rebel boys? You're screwed now!" The Shocktrooper is more than happy to file in behind "DT-6767" and their point-lead once given leave by Vyken carefully following behind given the Trooper's weighty steps, leaving the man's imagination wild with guessing the figure of weight belonging to that beautiful piece of First Imperial Engineering worn so proudly by the tall, lofty albeit powerful looking Trooper.

Kyli smirked for a fleeting moment, it gave the Death Trooper a level of happiness to provide that level of re-assurance to fellow Stormtroopers, those whom she had grown beside and served with on several different battlefields in every conflict since the original First Order-Galactic Alliance War that began on Kaeshana's desolate and ravaged surface. Hazel Spheres continuously shift between the sealed door just around the corner and motion tracker displayed on Helmet-Mounted Display noting the several hostile red contacts registering on its' read-out. The rebels were waiting for Vyken & Moncrieff and their men, but they wouldn't be expecting Kyli and if she had her way they'd be dead before their lifeless corpses hit the floor. Kyli's heart beats with a painfully slow predatory lust, with dilated pupils the young albeit dangerous Death Trooper permitted the Adrenaline and nervous system enhancements to flood her veins with carefully disciplined aggression.