You should have let me sleep (ORC raid on Dagobah, ATTN: FO, OPEN)

[Jorus Merrill]

CONTEXT:

• FO establishes a base on Dagobah in place of the former Dagobah Tech campus.
• ORC undertakes reconnaissance of the Dagobah system, assesses it as a low-priority salvage-focused site, and does not detect the base.
• Skor II, Polis Massa, and the Suarbi system join ORC as the GA collapses.
• In a joint treaty, FO and SE declare those territories to be demilitarized zones, and deploys fleet assets all across former GA territory.
• FO declares that ORC is in violation of the FO/SE declaration.
• ORC decides to express moderate dissatisfaction.

​

Run and hide had been the order of the day for years upon years. Don't escalate, evacuate. Jorus had followed that maxim throughout his adult life, for the simple reason that de-escalation kept people safe. When worlds looked to you, you thought twice before doing things that would put them at risk. And by and large, the bad guys understood that if they escalated, you'd figure they'd do their worst regardless, so you might as well fight back. So everyone stuck to a mildly pugnacious cold war through spies and proxies and recon runs.

That had been the Outer Rim Coalition's relationship with the First Order since Dosuun was just a pimple on the map. As of today, that tacit agreement was a little less relevant.

Task Force Cresh-Nine hit realspace like a set of brass knuckles. The twenty-three small ships, ranging from fifty to two-hundred-fifty metres, accelerated toward the site of the large-scale salvage operation. They remained at extreme range of the planet for the time being. Other Coalition vessels might or might not appear; they'd kept communications traffic minimal and there was a certain amount of subspace interference in the sector. Bad weather today.

Spoiler

• Lead Ship: The D'Lessio (68.6m)
• Composition:
  Pimbrellan League Borurr-class Fast Attack Frigate 'Kaspar' (250m) - Captain Arroxes
• Pimbrellan League Borurr-class Fast Attack Frigate 'Melchior' (250m) - Captain Kell
• Pimbrellan League Borurr-class Fast Attack Frigate 'Balthasar' (250m) - Captain Murien
• Pimbrellan League Borurr-class Fast Attack Frigate 'Artaban' (250m) - Captain Peska
• Naboo Admonition-class Transports 'Dagger One' through 'Dagger Eighteen' (50m x 18 = 900m)

[*]Total Length: 1968.6m

MISSION BRIEF​

​

Recent recon efforts have identified vessels of corvette and frigate scale undertaking salvage operations in Dagobah orbit. Uncertain sensor readings indicate there may be some form of armed presence on the surface. No major naval assets (cruiser+) were detected during a thorough sweep of the system. Due to the recent Imperial Bloc Treaty, FO naval assets have been deployed throughout former GA territory. There is a reasonably high probability that Dagobah remains a low-priority location, or has received only modest reinforcement.​

​

​

PRIMARY OBJECTIVE: Destroy any FO vessels in orbit.​

​

SECONDARY OBJECTIVE: Obtain sensor data on surface-based military presence. (Requires advanced sensors and low-orbit approach to planet.)​

​

TERTIARY OBJECTIVE: Assess condition of any remaining civilian presence at Dagobah Tech campus location. (Requires advanced sensors and low-orbit approach to planet.)​

​

[member="The Major"] [member="Julius Sedaire"]​

 

[Kyle Farnes]

It was one of those things. Kyle had heard of the strife that had occurred on the jungle world of Dagobah. Or swamp. Yeah, definitely swamp. The reason they were all back here though, was something else. The Coalition who was graciously providing refuge to the Galactic Alliance in Exile were getting communications from the First Order that were not sitting well. The Jedi General Coren Starchaser was dispatched to other border worlds, and finding the Sith on some worlds in the former Alliance space.

But Kyle Farnes was unique. He was a military contractor and one who was trained by Mandalorians. He could do a lot of different things for the Alliance in Exile, and that meant he was able to travel with some of his own brood. Well, clan, whatever. And that meant he was moving the Ranger, his YT-1300 onto the Spirit of Sullust, a refurbished Scythe-class cruiser that was part of the Sector Force Besh. The ship had a few support vessels, but it was a smaller Sector Force, being launched from the greater fleet.

A pair of Nebulon D Frigates and a CR-37 FarStar helped round out the fleet. And Kyle was entering the hangar as the ships entered the system. The call from the Captain, a Mon Calamari who had been with he Alliance for only a few months before the situation on Coruscant unfolded began giving orders. Holding some of the fighters back, but launching others. His personal TwinTail had been moved onto the ship and Kyle grabbed his flight helmet and climbed up.

Preflight was going on while the system was understood. And the hold call came for all fighters on the Scythe.

OOC:
Garbage fleeter wanting to have fun.
Spirit of Sullust
Liberty II
Intrepid
Hornet

Fleet arrival, no fighters launched.

 

[Elijah Brockway]

​Location: Space over Dagobah, overseeing salvage
Allies: None yet
Enemies: None engaged; eventually [member="Kyle Farnes"]

With the fall of the Galactic Alliance, the merger of the Galactic Empire into the First Order, and the recent minor battles that the First Order had taken part in all mostly finished, Lucan was quite happy to finally have a moment to rest. Sure, he was still on guard duty in a sense—the salvage still in orbit over Dagobah was both important and profitable, and there was a base down on the planet, although he didn't quite have the clearance to enter it or know anything much about it beyond where it was and the fact that it existed. Still, it was just overseeing part of the continued salvage operation, protecting First Order personnel or civilians who were given permission to salvage, until somebody else would be rotated over whenever Grand Admiral Rausgeber or Admiral Cardan would request his presence again.

It was relaxing. And after how hectic recent months had been, with Warlord Tuspin's betrayal, the civil war within Imperial space, fighting pirates after merging into the First Order...Lucan had honestly started to miss the days when all he did was oversee part of the galactic edge in his little frigate. Of course, he couldn't deny that he enjoyed commanding a Star Destroyer. The captain's suite was a bit larger and more comfortable on the larger ship, as well.

"Sir, long range sensors just registered something on the far edge of the system," one of his bridge techs called out. "Might have been Cronau radiation from some ships, but it was far enough out we can't tell." Lucan pursed his lips, thinking carefully. The likelihood that anybody would really be wanting to attack Dagobah—again—was rather low. Or at least, he hoped it was. "Stay wary, like we have been," he said. "Might be a malfunction, might be civillians who are coming to get in on the salvaging game. It shouldn't be anything to worry about."

He certainly hoped it wouldn't be anything to worry about.

Spoiler: Dagobah Defense Group 1

Allegiance IV-class Heavy Star Destroyer FOV Ixion
Predator-class Assault Cruiser
Pilum-class Frigate FOV Existentiality
Dagger III-class Escort Frigates
Fortan III-class Heavy Corvette
Vigilance-class Corvette

Meterage: 4,007

Hopefully this'll suffice for that "Only modest" reinforcement. If anybody thinks it's too big, feel free to shoot me a message about it.

 

[Rayf Vigil]

Allies: ORC | [member="Jorus Merrill"] | [member="Kyle Farnes"]​

Enemies: First Order | [member="Lucan Sirrad"]​

​

Hangar Bay 2​

Free Lothal​

Dagobah System​

​

"Flight, status?" Rogue Leader asked for perhaps the half dozenth time.

"Still on standby, Lead."

Commander Rayf Vigil exhaled deeply, drumming his fingers against the dashboard of his TR-20's cockpit in nervous anticipation. His Rogues were on temporary detachment from their mothership the ANS Starchild. An op had been called, he didn't know too many of the details but the Free Lothal was down a squadron and his pilots needed a mission. So here they were, honorary aces of the Alliance-in-Exile's 18th Roving Line.

Captain Askrima aboard the Empyrean was their task force's commanding officer, the young man was a cyborg but underneath his life support suit Vigil believed there was a human. Most of his command level interactions had been through the captain of the Free Lothal, an Ithorian named Janos Bendon. Supporting these two combat cruisers was a wolfpack of Dirigible-class corvettes.

He had been doing this long enough to know that the Navy boys needed time to assess the landscape, deciding how to proceed and what to commit. It still didn't make these empty moments right before a combat run any less unbearable.

"Flight, status?"

​

18th Roving Line
Empyrean
Free Lothal
Dirigible-class Corvettes x 12
Total Length: 1940m

 

[Progflaw99]

​

Patrol | Sector Omicron | Objective: Recover/Salvage/Rescue​

Task Force Bogwing | 2 AT-HAT/FO walkers​

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- - -​

​

*Task for Bogwing, right. Nothing about this reminds me of flying.* thought Rolf to himself. The First Order Officer trudged through the muck of Dagobah, carefully avoiding several spots on the ground that looked suspect. It was as easy as stepping in the wrong spot - the ground would swallow you up, leaving you to the mercy of your squadmates or some subterranean creature. Of those, there were many. Dragonsnakes, swamp slugs, pythons, nothing Rolf felt like encountering if they could at all avoid it. Behind the re-assigned Storm Commando the loud whirring of a pair of AT-HAT's motors filled the air, each step sending a deep vibration through the soft soil. Knee deep in it, Rolf tested the ground ahead with his toe. Keeping the barrel pointed forward he looked over his left shoulder, signalling those behind him to continue forward.

Their patrol took them out towards a large muddy lake, if you could call it that. According to his HUD's readout, they were less than 200m away from it but as he looked, all he could see were trees and fog. Conditions on the swamp world were almost always bad, even his HUD received continued interference - idly as they sauntered forward he wondered if he might actually be able to see better without his helmet. They were supposed to be looking for remaining pockets of resistance from the battle fought here weeks ago, months even, but so far they'd come up empty handed. Except for the swamp water in their boots. Every now and then they'd call a halt, the giant monolith's behind them coming to a grinding squishing halt as the task force investigated some hunk of metal or pile of debris. Sometimes it was the burned out hulls of Alliance vehicles, other times First Order carcasses or remains of Galactic Empire assets. Dagobah had been a quagmire, miserable for all involved between the near complete inability of the sensors and the torrential rain.

Inch after painful inch they'd plod forward. Thankfully the walkers had only gotten stuck once - Rolf questioned why they'd been sent along anyway. A speeder bike patrol could have covered at least twice the ground in half the time but it wasn't his call, not anymore. It was one of the pitfalls of being re-assigned to the Commando's. No longer in charge of the big operations, he found himself back in the trenches - but in truth, he'd found he liked it there. Equal parts skill in action and self loathing granted him peace of mind despite the horrendous environmental conditions. *Too much thinking.* Rolf tensed his jaw and trudge onward. Soon they would arrive at the lake - he hoped. Then they could do a quick survey and get back to base. Hot showers. Hot meal. It'd mark the first time they'd been back to the FOB in over a week and a half. It was a small wonder they hadn't gotten lost, especially with the sensor readings being as unreliable as they were. Forcing himself back to the task at hand, he continued to pick his way through the knee high water.

 

[H3xle]

OBJECTIVE: Ascertain Military and Civilian Assets on the Ground
ALLIES: ORC | AiE | Lightside | [member="Rayf Vigil"] | [member="Kyle Farnes"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"]
ENEMIES: First Order | Darkside | [member="Lucan Sirrad"] | [member="Rolf Amsel"]

As the various ORC assets hammered into the system with uncharacteristic force, a small tramp freighter slipped into the system as well. It's cronau radiation likely lost in the massive wash of so many other ships entering at roughly the same time. There was nothing special about the freighter. It was space worthy, and bore years of wear and tear and a few carbon scores along the sides. Any scans made of it as it made a quick, darting dive under the plane of confrontation (direct line between ORC and FO forces) would show that it was unarmed, and held only standard systems. There were quite a few life signs, and not much cargo. Any force sensitive in a near enough area would know that a mid level force user was on board.

The freighter was making for the ground...or whatever part of the planet's swampy surface it could make it to with relative safety.

Within the freighter, Azala was communing with a spirit of the Force.

~~~

Now, if Azala had been a true, blue Jedi, communing with a Force spirit would have been a near religious experience. Had Azala been a Sith, it would have been a different, but still a distinctly religious experience. Both of those philosophies lent a sacred air to anything to do with the Force, especially manifestations of the Force.

Azala wasn't either of those things, though. She held the Force in high esteem, but came nowhere near worshiping it. Her communing with this specific Force spirit was a conversation over a game, as spirits couldn't drink.

Azala placed a smooth marble stone onto the board, it's depth of black color a distinct contrast to the white of her opponent. She bit her lip and thought a moment before lifting her finger and sitting back. The Force spirit, a male Twi'lek who had at one point had green skin and significant damage to his left lekku studied the board. Azala went back to cleaning the last bit of one of her pistols, making sure it was good to be reassembled for the mission they were currently on.

"You do this every time, Azala, and yet I never see the trap coming..." Dansa said, his voice clear despite his right hand totally eclipsing it.

"Trust your feelings, you'll know where to put the next piece, you just have to..." She started, smirking as she slid the pistol back together with expert fingers before sliding it back into her holster.

"...yeah, yeah, let go. Honestly, Azala, get new material. I think I've let go about as much as is possible." Dansa, who had at one point been a mildly successful smuggler, and also a Gray Paladin. "You'll also want to take a long a long gun, you'll likely be fighting a good bit down there."

"Nah, I'm good with my pistols. Long guns are bulky, too bulky for their worth." She couldn't help grinning. It felt good to be readying for a mission with her mentor, even if he was only around immaterially now. He had died a few years before, leaving Azala to keep up their work on her own until he appeared one day to continue harrassing her about this, that, and the other thing.

"Guys, we're hitting atmo. Should probably put away the game and...I dunno...get ready to go?" A voice came over the internal comms. Azala shrugged and stood, moving to the door of the small dining area of the freighter.

"You clean it up boss, I've gotta go."

"Don't do anything I wouldn't do!" He called as she left.

Azala stepped into the cargo bay, and nodded to the sergeant in charge of the Alliance soldiers who accompanied her. Their armor was already set to mimic the terrain of Dagobah. Azala took a deep breath, and focused hard for a few moments. Turbulence shook the ship around them, but Azala continued to shrink her presence in the Force. It wasn't something she was very good at, and definitely not comfortable, as it felt like she was plugging her ears, nose, and covering her eyes, but for the first part of the mission, at least, it was important that they deploy swiftly and silently.

The tramp freighter streaked over what should have been a remote area of the planet, based on scans on the way in, skimming through trees, and halting on the water.

The cargo door was opened, and everyone carried all of their stuff with them as the pilot set the charges. The sergeant took point, and led them away to the North, moving swiftly to get away from the "crash site", the freighter exploding into bit behind them as they left.

Azala did her best to not think about the water standing around her legs as they moved, concentrating on being small in the Force.

 

[Ava Cartwright-Pryce]

Dagobah System
Aboard Free Lothal awaiting launch orders
Allies: AiE/Rogue Squadron, ORC
Enemies: FO

​

Hurry up and wait... This was the part that Goldilocks hated the most. With the standby continually being given by Flight Control, it gave way too much time for what ifs or what nots to surface in one's mind as the starfighter pilots twiddled their thumbs sitting on the flight line in Hangar Bay Two of the Quasar Fire-class Light Carrier ready to punch it when and if the order came. She just wanted to get out there already and take care of business... but patience was a virtue and it was something the Ralltiiri was working on.

The Lieutenant Commander rested her flight helmet back against the head rest of the pilot couch in the cramped TR-20's cockpit and tried to for a better word meditate, but thoughts kept coming back around to a certain navy officer and a recent encounter. Ava knew it was but a shadow of a dream, but there was still hope, right? Time would only tell the story, but that was the crux of the matter... In their business, time was a precious commodity as each and every mission could be their last. And even if duty came first, which it most certainly did for those dedicated to the Alliance and its cause... The pleasure part was sure hard to forget about even if it was just as simple as a comforting hug or tender kiss shared.

Goldie's steely blue eyes opened when Squeak tootled to see if his pilot was still awake. The blonde grumbled something back to her rather snarky R9 unit in the effect that no she wasn't sleeping nor daydreaming just merely resting her eyes because he didn't want her tired now did he, then the Rogue keyed the comm unit over the squadron's channel following the Old Man's last status check.

[ Rogue Leader... Five still green and ready to dance. ]

[member="Rayf Vigil"] [member="Jax Rhane"]

 

[Keyan Mastigar]

​

​

Admiral Gromm Cardan​

Equipment: Blaster Pistol - Flag Officer Uniform​

Location: FIV Invictus - Bridge​

Status: Admiralty Things​

Theme: When Has Become Now | Rogue One​

​

​

​

It was beautiful, to say the least.

The Invictus, the first and thus far only Umbra-class star dreadnought, had finally returned from one of the most prestigious shipyards in Imperial space. The former flagship of the fallen Empire, now christened with the prefix of FIV, was refitted with some of the more advanced systems that the Core of Imperial Engineers had to offer, including several upgrades to the cloaking drive by Caalgen, its creator, himself. Along with Grand Moff Graf's old flagship, the Pellaeon, they were released into service of the First Imperial Navy with the Invictus going back to Cardan and the Pellaeon put under the command of Grand Admiral Rausgeber.

In preparation for future operations, and as a chance to consolidate some of his forces; Cardan ordered a select few of the ships under his command to meet in deep space to form Task Force Scipio. At the moment, several star destroyers sailed through the bleak void, light cast over their durasteel hulls from a nearby star, only for a shadow to appear seconds later from the massive dreadnought. Cardan turned his head to watch as another squadron of cruisers and frigates arrived out of hyperspace to rendezvous with the task force, everything was going according to his design.

He pivoted, his boots clacking against the floor of the bridge while he walked over to the ship station, observing the technician receive and distribute transmissions from across the sector. "Crewman," Cardan growled lowly, causing the man to jump slightly in surprise, "Beam a transmission to Captain Sirrad of the Ixion, I want a report of his status, Kappa-level encryption." Once the comms operator acknowledged the order, Cardan left the bridge for his office.

Even demoted he still had paperwork to do.

 

[Runi Verin]

Location: The Dagobah System | The Corellian Bolt
Allies: The ORC | [member="Zef Halo"] | [member="Amea Virou"] | @anyone else wanting to tag along
Enemies: The First Order
Objective: Make Planetfall, Backseat Pilot

A small grimace marred the features of Runi Verin as the Corellian Bolt transitioned made the transition back into real space on the edge of the system. As seemingly smooth the process might have appeared to the outside observer, almost impressively so for a vessel so obviously ancient and venerable, the off-kilter vibration she felt in the deck plating was enough to put her teeth on edge. Her hand(s) almost reflexively twitching with the unspoken desire to fix the source of the problem, yet knowing intimately how bad form it was to mess around with another spacer's ship. It just wasn't done.

"'bout karkin' time." Runi muttered as ducked into the cockpit, placing a hand on the Corellian leather seats that had to be at least three or four decades her senior. Salvaged from some wreck no doubt. An noticeable improvement from the set of acceleration couches he had the last time she was aboard. Or perhaps now that they weren't hurtling face first into an impregnable prison, she had more time to appreciate her surroundings a little more this time around. "I thought you said this cheeka was fast, old man. We're gonna need to see more from her if we're gonna make it a ground and back again all in once piece."

She leaned forward to take a look at the readings over [member="Daro Tarsi"] 's shoulder, pursing her lips at the fleet readings that were already filtering through. For once, it seemed there were plenty of friendly looking green dots amongst the red ones. Smaller certainly, but space battles were much like a whorehouse on Nar Shaddaa in her experience. You quickly had to learn that size wasn't everything and, more often than not, you would end up paying dearly for every added inch.

"I ain't lookin' to end up in jackboot custody." She continued, "And I hate to break it to you, but neither of you old fethers are exactly pretty enough for the prison shower scene they got goin' on in these parts. Try an' get us down without makin' too much of a fuss, 'lek?"

 

[Jorus Merrill]

For the moment, things looked good. The First Order maintained a decisive advantage in large vessels and seasoned fleet commanders, but their ambitious deployment across Alliance space left places like this vulnerable to quick, precise raids. Every time, the key was to avoid getting blogged down. The old Imperial term was hit-and-fade.

Jorus eyed the tactical map and got ready for the 'hit’ part.

The Alliance-in-Exile flotillas knew their business and didn't need him calling their shots. If they walked on eggshells around that big destroyer, they'd do fine. The First Order's aft blind spots and near-total lack of a starfighter presence should give [member="Kyle Farnes"] and [member="Rayf Vigil"] a decent shot against [member="Lucan Sirrad"]’s big guns. Jorus’ task force had other business.

The alien-looking Pimbrellan League frigates bore down on the salvage operation, but Jorus’ boat and eighteen Naboo ultralight corvettes would get there even faster. Disproportionate quad heavy ion cannons began hammering the salvage ships. Separating civilian independents from contractors and civil service ships was not a job for a hit-and-fade’s vanguard gunners. Therefore, the ion cannons just fired at everything.

Once the ORC fast frigates caught up, they'd have assessed the first wave's sensor data and picked more discriminate targets. Their Kathol pike beams would shear salvage boats apart, anything directly linked to the First Order war machine.

That, at least, was the plan.

 

[Shia Kryze]

Dagobah Orbit
Objective #1

ORC and the Mandalorian Empire didn't see eye to eye.

But [member="Jorus Merrill"] and Shia Kryze, they'd worked together before, so there was enough trust that for a small, very reasonable fee the services of Clan Kryze had been hired to provide backup.

Just in case, as it were. Quietly, very much below the table. A very obviously deniable asset - no Mandalorian Empire mercenary would work for ORC, would they?

The Huntress flickered out of hyperspace at the edge of the planned engagement zone right on time, the distant sparkle of weapons fire visible in the distance. Why anyone would fight over this slimeball, Shia couldn't even begin to fathom.

"Extend sensor booms and towed array, activate cloak. All systems to low power and begin silent running. Get me a plot on all contacts."

Now the wait began. Hopefully they would never be needed - easy money and a good time for Merrill and his raiders. But if things went wrong... very few people expected the Huntress' unique configuration to a skirmish.

OOC:

The Huntress - Hiding under double-blind cloak with low-observation sensor booms and towed array extended at the very edge of the battle area. Lurking in case more fun happens!
(500m total)

[member="Gromm Cardan"] | [member="Lucan Sirrad"] | [member="Kyle Farnes"]​

 

[Madelyn Lowe]

Location: Dagobah, Camp Aurark.
Objective: Write on a clipboard.
Allies: The First Order.
Enemies: The Outer Rim Coalition.

​

Dark, angry clouds spewed heavy drops of rain from above. Rain that fell to earth, turning the ground to sludge, and feeding the swamps. Hidden amongst the gnarled trees, a cleared space attempts beat back the jungle. A series of camps joined by roads, guarded by towers with searchlight beams that sweep through the trees. Around the perimeter, a fence keeps the majority of wildlife away, and the armed guards deal with what the fence cannot. Inside, military, government, and civilian personnel walk to and fro, moving between the different installations.

Every so often, a ship will land at the landing depot at Camp Kerkov, ferrying in supplies and troops through the only major portal into the base. As groups of researchers and officials walk about, they are escorted by squads of stormtroopers, as the shield that normally protects the complex is down for maintenance. However, this is just a precaution. The personnel at Camp Aurark are at ease. The Alliance has been defeated, and their forces long since driven from this miserable swamp. Here, the growing tension between the Order and the Coalition seems far away.

Madelyn was less comfortable. She'd been on Dagobah only a few weeks. Unaccustomed to life on the frontier, the base had taken some getting used to. It didn't help that Dagobah was hallowed ground. So many had lost their lives here fighting the Alliance. Here, the scars of the conflict were still fresh.

Tailed by a small entourage of guards and officials, Madelyn made her way towards The Chancellory, off to another of a long series of interviews about the productivity of the facility, all part of the Dagobah Reconstruction Scheme. It was a slow process, but it seemed finally to be coming together. With the help of this state-of-the-art facility, they were beginning to take steps to transform Dagobah from simply another wartorn system.

 

[Omari Ngao]

Sergeant Omari Vyken,
Objective: Training Exercises
Allies: [member="Rolf Amsel"], Somewhere out in the Swamps too.
Enemies: [member="Azala Kyse"], Somewhere out in the Swamps also!
Equipment: Stormtrooper Trooper Armour, G-11F Blaster Rifle, Riot Baton.

"Keep it movin'!" Omari's voice cried out through the fireteam's commline. "At this pace we're destined to get decimated!" The sole blemish on the record of the stormtrooper corps, and he saw a slight increase in speed as he herded his soldiers through the swampy earth. "Y'all want to be swimming with corpses? That's what you'll see when I leave ya fething behind out here!" The trooper's rifle hung off of his body while his team trudged past him.

Over command's line there was crackling that he couldn't make out. The messy weather on Dagobah which was present year-round it seemed like made it real difficult for any comms that weren't in the immediate vicinity to get through to each other. Even Camp Aurark had trouble connecting from one side to the side. Not going to hear kark all out here, he thought to himself when he checked the chronometer in the corner of his HUD before he swiped useless information down to his wrist display to which he closed a moment later. "Ease up. Someone's callin'."

The swamp was caked to his greaves, and he grumbled to himself as he tried to communicate back. "Sergeant Vyken reporting in." A sudden patch of solid ground that his squad had gathered on was where he climbed up. In response, he got mostly static and some broken up words. Nothing useful. "Gonna have to speak up, uh... Sir." Walking the perimeter of the solid earth, his close proximity to the muddy waters he had just been marching through rising up onto the earth that his heavy steps sunk lower. "ttack! -- ck to b-se!"

"Why couldn't it be..." He grumbles to himself before he ended with a, "Understood. Falling back now. Vyken out." Even while he was saying the words, he was wondering how much his superiors were getting from his response, but the words were programmed into his mind from a time he could barely even remember. Huh... Actually. It don't even matter. "We heading back. Think we're under attack or somethin' -- Anything that isn't friendly in your visor is a hostile."

"You think, Sarge?"

"Yeah. I'll tell ya what that's like sometime. Let's move."

Something in his gut was telling him they had to make a little bit of a detour first. They couldn't hoof it back through the mud in a timely fashion.

 

[Progflaw99]

​

TIE Prototype, Advanced | Shadow of Dagobah​

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- - -​

​

Never had Castor thought he'd become used to piloting a starship - and yet here he was again. His endeavors on behalf of the Supreme Leader had taken him across the galaxy and back several times, each journey slowly building the skill he'd need to rely increasingly upon as the First Order took to the stars in the name of conquest once again. The future however was not why Castor found himself in the shadow of the wild world that even now fought against the tamer's leash, the First Order's leash. At least, not in the name of expansion. His was a different cause, one of rebirth and discovery upon the surface of the acquired world - or so had been his intent until the unexpected arrival of a flotilla of unidentified vessels.

Angrily his display had lit up, a new spattering of contacts shimmering through the ever present distortions. At first Castor had narrowed his eyes, believing them to be little more than sensor ghosts - that's when he'd seen the colorful display erupt before his very eyes.

A man of action, a loyal Knight of the Order of Ren, Castor had jumped into action. The full throttle of his TIE fighter pressing his body into the seat as the inertial dampeners struggled to catch up. One of the drawbacks of the high power consumption of his other systems. No doubt a problem he would need to investigate once he wasn't about to engage the enemy in combat. Who they were he couldn't tell, at least not from this distance. Little more than flashing lights and obscure shapes, he needed to close the distance fast.

"Come on!" he said irately. His voice lost in the pounding blood in his ears.​

​

As he made his approach to the combat zone, another strong signal appeared for a microsecond but the Knight was too focused on what he saw ahead. Hostile vessels were indeed making an attack run, already debris proximity alerts were flashing in the Ren's visor. His eyes locked onto a carrier, noting it's posture but the area around seemed clear of hostiles - maybe they hadn't yet launched. If that was the case, they were vulnerable. Punching in a few commands into his targeting computer, he set course and continued onward. *In the name of Sieger they would pay for their insolence - whomever they were.*

[member="Ava Cartwright"] | [member="Jorus Merrill"]​

 

[Amea Virou]

Location: Space, I dunno
Allies: ORC | [member="Runi Verin"], [member="Zef Halo"], and [member="Daro Tarsi"]
Enemies. First Order
Objective: Mainly, like, not provide sensory overload for friendo.

Deep breath in, slow breath out, and repeat. Amea’s eyes were closed to keep it all out. Fear, anticipation and excitement: gone. It must have been an unusually quiet moment for Runi. No nothing, just silence and everything going business as usual despite Amea’s presence in the back of the ship. At least until she stopped of course. A deep sense of curiosity burst around Amea’s mind as she tried her best not to poke a metaphysical eye into the on-goings of the ship they were in. It had to be older than she was, and given the way it seemed to handle she’d say they were lucky to have it last this long.

Or maybe that was Runi’s frustration filtering through. Amea tried her best to block that out and just be in the here and now. Which for the moment meant getting ready to hit the ground and do their jobs. There were a great many things Amea could say about the First Order at this point, and few of them were particularly kind. The chance to strike back at them was something she welcomed with open arms.

She slung a holster over her shoulder and let it hug against her skin before he slung her jacket on to cover its presence. There was no need to conceal weapons here, technically, but a holster was a holster. Her cropped jacket just barely covered the holster as it was anyway, and the idea that she would be keeping this jacket after the mission was foolish enough as it was. She had her boots and those were if anything the most important piece of equipment for this run. She pulled the laces in tight to seal her shins from the elements for a moment before she let up again.

These would be priceless out there. Who knew what kind of disease they had crawling around the swamps? Better safe than sorry. Or rather, better safe than laying in bed with swamp fever or whatever. Amea was not taking any chances with this one.

She stepped into the cabin and sure enough Verin was already acting like her old charming self.

Which was to say, well, not really.

Amea took a seat and looked out the viewport without saying much at all. Today would be an interesting day to say the least.

 

[Suki Klev]

Objective: FOSB recon support for military in the swamps
Gear: Standard issue blaster, 3 Vee-Ex Grenades
Droids: Infiltration Droid, Prowler
Friends: [member="Rolf Amsel"] [member="Omari Vyken"]
Enemies: [member="Azala Kyse"], ORC and allies

As during any cold war, the espionage business had boomed as the military conducted endless training drills. Now that the situation had turned into a blazing inferno, Suki would have many allies now in her quest for intel.

The violence and pandemonium of war? A minor inconvenience to her mission. That’s what she told herself at least, not believing it in the slightest.

Suki had been dropped in ahead of Sector Omicon, Captain Ash reasoning that she needed the field experience - as though the hot zone of Lothal hadn’t been preparation enough. Yet for a former torch singer, one would think Suki too delicate and tender for the Dagobah swamps, but actually she adored it. It felt like she’d finally attended the prestigious Emerald Splendor Imperial Youth Camp on Byss, the one her father had awarded her half-brother every summer, but not to his bastard daughter.

Ahead of Suki were the metal eyes and ears of the First Order, the only employable tactic for gathering ground intelligence due to the inhospitable conditions of Dagobah and the inability for normal sensors to detect imagery, heat and motion. Listening to the comms link in her helmet, she could hear exactly what the steel Infiltrator Droid found. When the droid wasn’t feeding her information, Suki heard the faint stomp of the walkers trudging through the swamp, lurching slow and steady, though always in danger of being toppled by anything - a swamp monster or even the unforgiving mud throwing them off balance.

“Ogre to Omnicon, one, maybe two Elephoth at 3 o'clock. They are herbivores as far as I know, but could easily take down a walker. There’s a safer path to the right.” The callsign from Lothal had stuck though Suki wasn't sure of what to make of the nickname.

Something rustled above sending a shiver down her spine, a flock of accipiptero skimming the jungle treetops. The small Prowler besides her felt almost like human company, and it filled her with a strange sense of relief to have it with her.

 

[Kyle Farnes]

Sitting in the cockpit and waiting was not his favorite thing to do. Kyle was a Warden and a Mando, a scout who should be going ahead of the team. But the Captain here had their own plans it seemed. And what was he to say? A military contractor and someone who preferred some ship engagements and helping people run through blockades, or sneak past some sort of patrol. That was where he shined, but now? It was not going that way. Kyle was just going to drum on the control yolks of his ship. And check in with it.

Twintails were interesting as the astromech was inside. The X-Wing and E-Wing had them that would be a separate unit and that was a lot better for a field operative, but Kyle had his light Beskar’gam, that allowed for use as a flight suit as easily as light armor in the field. He was ready, willing, and able.

But on the bridge, other things were occurring. The First Order fleets were coming into view, and Captain Kunn had a start when he moved his fleet into range. First Order salvage fleet, but… another zoom of the long range sensors that would give away their position, but was crucial to finding out what was going on, and yes. That was a Star Destroyer.

“Set condition aurek throughout the ships. We have a First Order Star Destroyer.” Captain Kunn announced. Linking into the Battle Network, the Alliance in Exile vessels were getting the tactical feed from the other commanders and seeing what was going on. The trick? They needed to get down to the surface.

“Power to shields and weapons. Prep the fighters. Launch on my mark.”

And that was when the call came through, Twintails started picking up from the Scythe and the FarStar and launching into the fray. Kyle pushed engines to full and jumped out ahead of the pack. Targets were being called and he and his squadron were tasked with engine detail. Flank the destroyer, and turn its engines to rubble. Fair deal.


[member="Lucan Sirrad"]

Spoiler

Fleet Stuff, right?
Scythe Crusier Spirit of Sullust Sh: 100/100 Hu: 100/100
Nebulon D (Escort) Frigate Liberty II Sh: 100/100, Hu: 100/100
Nebulon D (Escort) Frigate Intrepid Sh: 100/100, Hu: 100/100
FarStar Hornet Sh:100/100, Hu: 100/100

Launch Fighters:
Scythe – 2 Squadrons CrossFires, 1 Squadron Twintail
FarStar – 2 Squadrons A-Wing, 2 Squadrons X-Wing
Nebulons – 1 Squadron CrossFire each

Scythe moving in front of smaller vessels, firing turbolasers at the First Order vessels, primarying the Star Destroyer, but still outside of effective range.

[member="Lucan Sirrad"]

 

[Kyrel Ren]

Location: Aboard the FIV Invictus
Allies: First Order, [member="Doran Ren"], [member="Primat Ren"], [member="Racosidae"] [member="Marriskcal Lati"] [member="Karnak Ren"]
Enemies: Alliance In Exile/ORC

Kyrel had much history with Dagobah, the swampy bog was a world in which Kyrel and later his Enforcer [member="Varas Ren"] had traveled to the World, to aid the Galactic Empire in rescuing what troops were left behind on the world. Not long before that was the blockade of the Hydian Way, one of the first battles of the Great Galactic War. Kyrel could still remember the events, both him and his daughter fighting in his newly created TIE Silencers, boarding the Alliance Flagship. Killing the Jedi Master known as Zark, and then his daughter trying to kill him. To which she had received her mark of sin in the form of her limb being severed. Dagobah was another story, being attacked by Alliance and their Confederacy backed forces. That day they had gained a victory but had suffered losses in the process.

The next time Kyrel was on Dagobah, was to explore the Ancient cave of the dark side. One that carried the immense power that he had to see himself, even after the Alliance attempt to destroy it, there were other ways to reach it. And when he did he was not prepared for the vision, that dared to wreak havoc on his mind. Which later ultimately came true in the final battle of the War being Lothal. Why he had come back today, was to take the Ren on a pilgrimage to the cave in the hopes of perhaps giving them a lesson, or even have them feel the power of the dark side, to know it's power when it came to a source of energy such as the cave. Standing aboard the FIV Invictus, their fighters his TIE SIlencers were in the hanger, as he gathered them to the hanger waiting for them to depart to the surface, as he looked about. With his enhanced HUD of his mask, he could detect several ships out there. Thinking they were smugglers or salvaging ships, he didn't think of it as a threat. The Alliance were scattered, what remained of them did not pose a threat to the First Order. They were now considered as nothing but Rebel scum and War Criminals. Hardly a threat to the First Imperial war machine.

Standing next to the young girl known as Marr. Whom he had met upon his ascension and the short schism that followed as being Steward of the Ren. He spoke as if his words would only herald what was to come. "Something is not right, I can feel it."

 

[Marriskcal Lati]

Praetorian Initiate
Equipment | Mk. I RAKGHOUL Semi-Powered Battle Armour, Training Lightsaber, DE-39 Maser Rifle, Throwing Knives, Binding Wires, Injector Pens filled with Lecepanine, C-25 Fragmentation Grenades
Location | Hangar, FIV Shiva
Allies | FO, [member="Kyrel Ren"]
Enemies | ORC and their allies
Status | Ah, I can't wait to trudge through mud

[SIZE=11pt]All Marriskcal knew about Dagobah was that the majority of its surface was covered in swamps and bogs, and those that are not, were filled by dense and thriving plant life. How exciting... not! Though the youngling would usually be more excited about setting foot on a new planet, after their mission on Lothal, she would have liked a short reprieve from a dark, wet, and malodorous environment. But at the same time, she remained curious about the ancient dark-aligned cavern that was to be their destination. [/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Marriskcal herself was not truly dark in nature, and if she were asked, the initiate would suppose her force alignment was actually closer to a grey or even light. Though she was surrounded by brothers and sisters who were mostly dark-aligned, the knowledge did not trouble her at all. After all, it was only a matter of time before she herself would embrace and heed the call of the dark.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Once again, she found herself on the hangar of a star destroyer, the FIV Shiva. But unlike her first time on a star destroyer, she was restricted to the hangar. Any time now, Master Kyrel will be giving them the instructions to finish their preparations and depart for Dagobah. Being a youngling, barely two months since she was appointed as an initiate, her own force senses were limited. Thus when the Steward made his observation, Marriskcal found herself becoming alert to the possibility of trouble. Despite realising that she could not stretch her own senses the same distance as the older male could, the blonde made an attempt anyway.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]And came back with a big fat nothing.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Bleh.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Even if her own senses were inadequate, Marriskcal trusted the words of Master Kyrel. “One of the vessels in the area are in trouble[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]?” From what little she has heard, there was ongoing salvage operations in the vicinity. [/SIZE]

 

[Cynthia Alucard]

Captain (Jr. Grade) Cynthia "Cyn" Alucard
Designation: Pixie Leader
Classification: Heavy Fighter Squadron (8)
Location: FIV Invictus - Hanger Bay
Closest Allies/Commander: [member="Gromm Cardan"]

Several pilots marched down to their designated spots, their helmets comfortably worn by all members and their black pilot suit and armor reflected their duty to their new Order; they were the harbingers of death. Their feet shuffled quickly, they organized themselves according to their ranks and their Squadron Leader slowly maneuvered herself squarely in front of her pilots. Arms crossed behind her back and her helmeted turned to each pilot present, her pilots and her responsibility, every single one. Each and everyone proved more loyal and determined that even Cyn herself thought impossible, with so much change and a whirlwind of disastrous losses, she had feared they had all reached the breaking point months ago.

Cyn’s Pixies appeared nearly identical to their past appearances, their black armor and jumpsuit, along with a single red stripe adorned across the right side of their body. Perhaps the most important difference came in the form of their sigil; The First Order. A second chance Cyn originally thought, and her Pixies hoped upon joining and fighting for their new government that they will prove metal. Cyn cleared her throat and began to address her flight wing here onboard the FIV Invictus.

“Prepare to face an enemy more ready to end your life than ready to live their own, our enemies fight with more passion and instinct than there are beasts in existence. But we are not beasts, we are Pixies. Pixies of the First Order.” Cyn declared evenly, her hand turned to a closed fist and she saluted her wing-mates. They all snapped their heels together and crossed their chest with one arm in salute as well.

“Prepare for take off,” And with that Cyn and the rest of her eight man TIE squad quickly approached their vehicles. Cyn looked up and slowly approached her newly given fighter, heavy fighter as it was considered. The TIE/CD XIV “Crown” gleamed impressively off of the hanger lights, its sleek black finish and menacing red hue emitting from the cockpit. Cyn found herself inside her fighter and quickly returned to her old habits of pre-combat rituals.

While she was not an overly superstitious person, what she had seen of the Force certainly made her weary of things so obviously outside of her control. But here, inside her fighter and leading her squadron. Here she knew she had the control to make a difference, the First Order had given them a second chance. And damned if she was not going to prove to them that she was worth it all.

“Remember Pixies, we’re going to give our enemies more than just fairy dust,” Cyn called out into her comms.

A few laughs were heard and a more grew louder, “Aye aye Pixie Leader,”

8 x TIE/CD XIV "Crown"