You'll Sleep When I Say So [First Order Invasion of Outer Rim Coalition [Hex K-53] Skor II]

[Omari Ngao]

[SIZE=11pt]It was a blue sky that spread over the planet of Skor II.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]In the process of being rebuilt, the Squib people looked to be content, accepting of their new protectors in the shape of the Outer Rim Coalition. It meant nothing. The Coalition had deigned to not accept the ultimatum that they had been offered, preferring to risk the wrath of the Imperial Warmachine.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Evidently they hadn’t gotten the news that the Galactic Alliance was gone and that this was Imperial claimed territory[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]. Coalition elements may have moved in, made themselves at home, but if Imperials weren’t capable of keeping up with their [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]promises[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt], then how would they earn the respect they deserved for destroying the Alliance and her New Jedi Order.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Ten days were given.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]They came on the eleventh.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]

[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]The first wave of Imperial Warships sought to bottleneck the system, overlapping interdiction fields whose intent was to suffocate the intruders in what had been claimed as a First Order system. Access codes were determined and distributed beforehand before transition into hyperspace had even been made. Warships, corvettes, everything up to the infamous Star Destroyer model vessels that had done their part in breaking not only the Alliance, but multiple galactic threats. OMEGA, the Insurgency, even the Ssi-Ruuvi Imperium before them all who had encroached and violated the sanctity of the First Order and burned multiple worlds that were home to the young Imperial nation.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Besides hate and grief, the Ssi-Ruuvi had taught the First Order a valuable lesson.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]

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

[SIZE=11pt]That’s what Omari felt when he had woken up before his ship had slipped into that solitary pocket of hyperspace that’d take them to their destination. Pain for the brothers they had lost on the planet. Pain for the soldiers who had made a mistake and paid the dearest price. Killing eachother. [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]A lot of them had preferred to forget that day, and they did for the most part. But that goosebump inducing memory of decimation reminded them all when the name Skor was delivered in briefs.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Lots of his brothers said it was worth it, the death of one in ten servicemen. Others didn’t. That it made not only the First Order, but all Imperials monsters. That’s how the enemy spun it when they had hacked into Bespin’s public systems and replayed the by then old broadcast.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Even after he found himself in formation, hours after waking up, he could recall the arguing voices of that day. That said it was necessary, that it was a bluff. The disbelief when it had actually happened, and the silence that followed. Years ago and the memory was once more refreshed. But now… There was one thing that they could all agree on. Whether it was right or not didn’t matter, what did matter was that every battle after that…[/SIZE]

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

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

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

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

[SIZE=11pt]And with that thought in mind, Omari had settled the helmet on his head, willing himself to ignore and to set his fears aside as he slipped into the Drop Pod with dozens of his friends, subordinates, even superiors doing the same. He reached up above his head to trigger the closing mechanism, his rifle secured in its rack beside him in the closed space.[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]He barely noticed when his pod had been shot out into space and joined hundreds of others en route to the planet below, the only thought that could prevent him from slipping into unconsciousness was to not fail the ones who died. The ones who were decimated. They wouldn’t fail again.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]They couldn’t.[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]

[/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]

[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]As the First Order fleet had arrived in system, two broadcasts went out. One into sector space and addressing all space vessels the other aimed towards the surface of Skor II and its inhabitants.[/SIZE]

:: Skor II and surrounding sectors. This region is now claimed by the First Order and will constitute as First Order domain. All civilian vessels are to leave the immediate system surrounding Skor II. You will be afforded a five minute window to vacate the locale. Those who refuse to do so will become subject to search and seizure by the First Order Navy. All vessels with a verified flight plan and accurate manifest will be sent on their way pending verification. Unauthorized vessels who attempt to flee after this amnesty period will be treated as enemies of the State and fired upon. All military or defense force vessels are to stand down immediately and prepare for boarding. Hail Sieger! ::

[SIZE=11pt]Likewise, a broadcast was transmitted towards the surface.[/SIZE]

::By declaration of the First Order, a curfew is hereby enacted upon Metrobig City and surrounding areas. Return to your homes immediately. Do not stop at the supermarket. Do not stop to deliver your last package. Return home. Anyone caught in violation of this curfew will be found in violation of First Order law and be prosecuted as such. This is for your safety. Return to your homes immediately. The curfew will be lifted once it is safe to do so. Hail Sieger! ::


OOC NOTES:

[SIZE=11pt]OOC Notice - Posting Template:[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] [/SIZE][SIZE=11pt]Please use the following spoilered template when making your posts. It helps other writers to track eachother’s posts if opponents, or even allies forget to tag them. It is also very important to do so when using images for location tags! Tip: When looking for posts in regards to your objective press “CTRL+F” and then type in ‘Objective: x’ to highlight relevant posts. Please note, even using this template, not necessarily all posts pertaining to your objective will show up. Keep an eye on active posts and communicate with your opposition.[/SIZE]


OOC Posting Template:

Spoiler

[SIZE=11pt]Location:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Objective:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Allies:[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Enemies:[/SIZE]

OOC Description of Initial Target Areas:

Spoiler

​

Local Space:
This location is fairly self explanatory. Of note are the civilian shipping lanes as well as the Metrobig Salvagestuff Platform locked in geosynchronous orbit of the planet. Outside the atmosphere, the station is a perfect point from which to both purchase and sell salvage materials. As before, there are several salvage docks which contain the hulls of decommissioned and or destroyed vessels. As per the initial post, the First Order fleet has arrived in local space and has begin deploying both landing craft and drop pods towards the surface.​

​

Metrobig City:​

The capital of Skor II, Metrobig is as much a city as it is one big salvage yard. Buildings constructed of various materials and large mounds of salvage are spread across the uneven and often crooked and twisting streets. Some areas still maintain battle damage from the Graug and the Vong attacks on the planet however the Squib are an industrious people and much of the central city has developed well. Containing various points of importance, Metrobig City and its occupation are of paramount priority to the First Order - a lesson learned by their insignificant ground force presence last time around.​

​

Palace of the Squib King​

A tenuous relationship had formed with the Squib King, Adegabaydee, When the First Order last made their presence known. After discussions failed and were soured by an overeager naval officer, relations fell through completely. This time, the First Order realizes that talk is futile and Sieger's will must be laid out with force. In an attempt to coerce, capture, or otherwise convince King Adegabaydee to command his people to stand down, a special strike force has been deployed via drop pod to the Palace compound. Instructed to use non-lethal force if possible, the strike team has been given the task of 'convincing' the King to cease resistance to Imperial Occupation.​

​

Survey Site Tagge​

A level piece of ground designated "Surve Site Tagge" has been identified as a probable deployment site for one of the First Order's pre-fabricated garrison structures. Though First Order forces should be able to enforce the curfew, it will be much easier once this garrison is established. A survey team has been deployed to get eyes on the site and remove any significant debris that would hinder their support operations. Located outside of Metrobig City, some resistance is expected but orders are to maintain non-lethal defense if possible. While many might want to obliterate the Squib, the First Order sees the value of the planet as a whole and do not want to alienate the inhabitants further.​

​

Allies

First Order Allies
[SIZE=11pt][member="Alkor Centaris"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Keira Verd"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Elian Keyes"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Azula Merr"]
[member="Vestille Thumahra"][/SIZE]


Outer Rim Coalition Allies
[SIZE=11pt][member="Sayd-Jai"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Cale Gunderson"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Shia Kryze"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][Bounty Allies][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Koda Fett"][/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Kaine Australis"][/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Faction Staff[/SIZE]

The First Order
[SIZE=11pt][member="The Major"] | [/SIZE][member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="Madelyn Lowe"]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Tanomas Graf"] | [member="Natasi Fortan"][/SIZE]

[SIZE=11pt]Outer Rim Coalition[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt][member="Tyric Kaseim"] | [member="Dax Fyre"] | [member="Joza Perl"] | [member="Vaudin Miir"][/SIZE]

 

[Cenric Marus]

Metrobig City - Squib Flea Market
Objective: Survive???
Allies: ORC | Starberries
Enemies: FO

What the hell was he doing here?

More importantly where the hell even was he?

Things had completely fallen apart lately, to the point that the young Padawan found himself wandering around all but aimlessly. When he'd left Lorrd he'd never thought he would end up here, in fact a lot of things had happened since then that he'd never thought actually would. The fall of the Jedi Order, Cedric falling into a coma, and now...now his own lost wanderings through the galaxy. He'd barely managed to make it off Gree, that weird Shark Sith having chased him into a shuttle.

When he'd jumped into hyperspace the drive had malfunctioned somehow, and Cenric had barely been able to drag the navi-computer into something workable. Eventually the ship had simply just burned itself, the fuel for the hyperdrive burning up and depositing him into a random sector of space.

The Emergency beacon had still functioned and a freighter had picked him up not long after he dropped out of hyperspace. The Captain had been nice enough, though loathe to transport Cenric around for free. In return for the salvage he'd given Cenric passage to a nearby Shadowport, and from there he had managed to contact Mariya. She in turn had told him that she was half-way across the galaxy, and scooping him up would be utterly impossible. Instead she'd given him the name of a planet where they could rendezvous.

Thus he'd ended up here, on Skor.

It wasn't the end of his journey, far from it, but it was where he was stuck right now. He needed a way to buy his passage to the next point in his trip, the only problem was he didn't have any money. All the credits he'd had were burnt up, he had no possessions save for his lightsaber and everything else...everything else might as well have been rags. He had been here for three days now, sleeping where he could and surviving in the best way he knew how.

The Padawan ducked around a small corner in the market, the loud noise of Squibs bartering and attempting to peddle their wears nearly deafening. The broadcast from the First Order was drowned out for most, though the edges of the market seemed to freeze in place, horror slowly spreading as realizations dawned. They were a nice enough people, not smart, but kind in their own way. More than once they had offered him a free meal or work enough to help him survive, but it was never enough to buy him passage on a ship.

He had to find a way off this world.

 

[Vorhi Alestrani]

Location: Metrobig Amphitheatre, which is a fancy way of saying "vaguely stage shaped rubble pile on the south end of town."

Objective: We don't need stinking curfews, let the this motherfether burn!

Allies: ORC friends, a small crowd of drunk audience members of various species

Enemies: Leather-clad neo-imps with authority issues, probably some other crazy jerks as well, music critics




Vorhi Alestrani was loving his stay on this planet. "Embedded intelligence" was a fancy way of saying "wait for inevitable crazy things to happen, here's your expense account until then." And frankly, squibs love of bargaining, bartering, haggling and trickery allowed him to have fun. But, he'd promised them something far more dire and dangerous than any vaunted enforcement of law, more wild and horrid than any ancient tome of Force lore. He was promising them the dark power, the unspeakable dangerous arts that had gotten him banned from over fifty cantinas in the Core sectors.


This was the art of the twice-damned force oracle. This was the form of madness given to a man who drank himself into a gutter until he was yanked out of it by the Aang-tii. This was the forgotten secrets of the mad monk, the grandmaster of the Salai Kasi. In exchange for a copy of the Mystic Martial Arts of Squib Combats and Transactions, he'd promised one display of this power. One arrogant show.



Vorhi smiled as the music played. The darkest of techniques. The empty voice within, or as the Reki enforcers would call it, "Kara Oke."



[youtube]https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=e5Pc4EX_AR4[/youtube]




"Oooooooooh I wanna Dance with somebody...." the grinning blind man began, almost sheepishly at first, "I wanna feel the heat with somebody....."


And with that, the Grandmaster of the Salai Kasi began to work his groove thing.

 

[Dano Dil]

[SIZE=11pt]Location: Local Space[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Objective: Destroy landing pods [/SIZE][SIZE=14.6667px]and[/SIZE][SIZE=11pt] attempt to halt the enemy advance[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Allies: ORC/AIE[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Enemies: First Order[/SIZE]
[SIZE=11pt]Soundtrack[/SIZE]

Last nights training exercises with the alliance fleet had been rough. They really wanted to win. Though despite the hard training, many continued on this morning. But not Dil. He was there, sitting back with his feet up on the small kitchen table in his freighter, enjoying the cheese sandwich he bought at the service station. Loud jazz filled the ship, playing from his holotablet next to him. Had it not been for his droid, he would've missed the radar signal.

Shutting off his music, he approached the cockpit. He sat in the pilots chair and waited. The scanners picked up a fleet about to emerge from hyperspace. The first order was here.

"V1, get the forward shields up to max power, they're coming out now." As Dil finished commanding his droid, they enemy arrived. Dil hadn't seen much in his short time off of coruscant, but he'd heard stories of the infamous star destroyers. Refugees from the surface had told him how the massive ships darkened the sky, and leveled Galactic City. Here and now, he knew that there was no understatement to their size. Only moments had passed since they broke from hyperspace, and the space around the ships lit up with the activation of hundreds of landing pods bursting from them. Dil knew they would pass right by him. But of course, this what what he came for. "V1, focus all the guns at the oncoming pods."

Dil, as well as the other rag tag ships that were aiding the Alliance Navy, were the first line of defense for Skor. He just hoped the ground forces were prepared... for the inevitable.

A broadcast appeared on his terminal. It used an emergency frequency that couldn't be overwritten. The First Order was giving a warning. Worst of all, they wanted to search his ship. He'd blow all these pods back to where they came from before he would let them get aboard. He lined the ship up with the oncoming swarm of pods. "Alright V1. 3.. 2.... 1!" The quad laser cannons of his freighter let loose and tore through the first couple of pods, but he knew right away that there would be no stopping this assault. Oh and of course, he put his music back on.

 

[Karl Von Strauss]

Location: Local Space
Objective: Awaiting orders from the Commanding Officer of this battle
Allies: The First Order
Enemies: Outer Rim Coalition

​

Karl, as excited as he was, pushed down his excitement as the long streaks of hyperspace turned into stars. He wasn't at the first battle of Skor II, so he had no idea how important this battle space was really. Karl had been chosen to lead a battlegroup of his own, Battlegroup Vornskr. As he arrived his battlegroup split into four distinct packs, but kept close to each other as not to interrupt the five minutes the civilians were given to vacate the space. All of the Boneshatter Frigates deployed their single squadron complements of TIE/FO MkIII's. The three Vanguard Carriers each deployed a squadron of TIE/IN and an extra squadron of TIE/FO MkIII's to reinforce the Corvette packs. The Imperial-X II's each deployed 2 squadrons of TIE/FO MkIII's, the FIV Anastasia deployed 2 of its TIE/IN squadrons. The bombers of the Imperial-X II's were not needed yet but were loaded and readied to be deployed at a moments notice. The Sabre Frigates deployed their Anti-Ordinance EM probes around Pack Prince, they also initiated their sensor jammers. Now Karl waited for his next command.

OOC Battlegroup Vornskr

Spoiler

Battlegroup Vornskr


“Pack” Prince
>3 Imperial-X II SD (1604x2=3208)
(FS) FIV Anastasia |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
Hangar(Squadrons): 3 TIE/IN | 2 TIE/FO-SK
FIV Belle |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
Hangar: 3 TIE/SF MkIII | 2 TIE/FO-SK
FIV White |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
Hangar: 3 TIE/SF MkIII | 2 TIE/FO-SK
>3 Vanguard Carriers (1000x2=2000)
FIV Zahn |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
Hangar: 3 FO TIE/IN | 4 TIE/FO Mk III | 3 TIE/FO-SK
FIV Reydel |Shields/Hull:100%/100%
Hangar: 3 FO TIE/IN | 4 TIE/FO Mk III | 3 TIE/FO-SK
FIV [SIZE=11pt]TiM[/SIZE] |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
Hangar: 3 FO TIE/IN | 4 TIE/FO Mk III | 3 TIE/FO-SK
>6 Sabre Frigates (270x6=1620)
FIV Haven |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Aspiration |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Thunder Wasp II ||Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Jupiter |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Neptune |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Bismarck |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%

Pack Alph
>5 Chasseur Corvettes (126x5=630)
FIV Kiffex’s Pride |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Kiffu’s Pride |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Pantora |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Maiden |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Warlock |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
>3 Blitz Corvettes (90x3=270)
FIV Wildland |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Werebear |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Tobui |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
>3 Uhlan Corvettes (80x3=240)
FIV Sorcerer |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Paladin |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Flash |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
>2 Boneshatter Frigates (380x2=760)
FIV Muerte |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
Hangar: 1 TIE/FO Mk III
FIV Legate |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
Hangar: 1 TIE/FO Mk III

Pack Duff
>5 Chasseur Corvettes (126x5=630)
FIV End of Nights |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV End of Days |Shields/Hull:100%/100%
FIV Totenkopf |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Witch |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Dragon |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
>3 Blitz Corvettes (90x3=270)
FIV Yamamoto |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Yamato |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Kidd |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
>3 Uhlan Corvettes (80x3=240)
FIV Rouge |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Bard |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Raptor |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
>2 Boneshatter Frigates (380x2=760)
FIV Godly |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
Hangar: 1 TIE/FO Mk III
FIV Smackers |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
Hangar: 1 TIE/FO Mk III

Pack Forma
>5 Chasseur Corvettes (126x5=630)
FIV Kobold |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Golden |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Turtle |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Nabassu |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Excalibur |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
>3 Blitz Corvettes (90x3=270)
FIV Shield |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Allip |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Drow |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
>3 Uhlan Corvettes (80x3=240)
FIV Warlord |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Warden |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
FIV Howler |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
>2 Boneshatter Frigates (380x2=760)
FIV Demogorgon |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
Hangar: 1 TIE/FO Mk III
FIV DeVinci |Shields/Hull: 100%/100%
Hangar: 1 TIE/FO Mk III

Total Meterage: 13,528 Meters
[SIZE=11pt]

[/SIZE]

 

[Robogeber]

Location: FIV Pellaeon | Command Deck
Objective: Secure Orbit For The First Order
Allies: [member="Gromm Cardan"] | [member="Morro"] | [member="Karl Von Strauss"]
Enemies: Those who defy our most generous amnesty.
Musical Ambience: Axis Theme | Hearts of Iron IV [X]

​

Skor II it was then. From the security of his flagship, Carlyle Rausgeber watched the planet slowly rotate beneath his gaze. His sole optical array running itself over the surface of the broken planet. There were a lot of memories wrapped up in this pitiful backwater for the Grand Admiral. This had been where the First Order had been broken last time. Blunted during the attempted bltizkrieg to create and encircle Galactic Alliance holdings along the Hydian Way. Carlyle recalled the dread of retreat. Circuitry within his new body bringing back the mixture of anger and anxiety he had upon falling back to Bespin. It had been humiliating to say the least. But also scary. One did not become an Admiral of the First Order to have themselves fail Supreme Leader, no? Carlyle remembered how sure he felt that Asharad Graush would organise an execution for the operational failure.

But fortunately for Rausgeber, the axe that chilled his neck, never came. The Galactic Alliance quickly, and arrogantly followed up its defence with an ill-planned, abortive offensive upon core territories of the Order in the Anoat sector, and then were then in turn defeated on a far grander scale. It was an act of redemption which breathed new life and vigour for Carlyle and his career. Even now, the tactical computer within the mans body buoyed his chances. The circumstances around the system had changed. No longer would the Silver Jedi interfere in the affairs of those across the Galaxy, they had seen to that through the desolation of Ossus, among other systems with what had been the Galactic Empire. The great behemoth of the Galactic Alliance was no longer there to lord over them, their forces shattered and legacy, extinguished. No. Now the First Order would take what was rightfully its from the pirates and scum masquerading as some form of legitimate collective of regimes. One which now either stupidly, or through the same hubris, decided to deny Dosuun's mandate. The Outer Rim Coalition.

They would burn, in time for this mistake. But for now, his mind needed to return to the present. The Grand Admiral paused his collection of thoughts to look around the command deck. His optical sensors glazing over the fresh faces who staffed the crewpits. No. This time would be different. "When we have reached the deadline," Carlyle coldly began, "Move our fleet into prime orbital position." The droid commander ordered, "We will support the suppression of resistance, and show the Outer Rim Coalition, and the Squib here that our presence is not one to be debated or contested." The Grand Admiral continued. "Keep broadcasting the curfew." The droid added, "We want there to be a minimal civilian presence out and about for our personnel to deal with." His sensor turned to see more drop pods streaking through the atmosphere. There was a beauty to it, to say the least.

"Check in with all other commands," The automaton then added, almost absent mindedly, "Be sure that their vessels are ready, in position and prepared to support our push through to low orbit, and maintaining security of our interdiction fields." The droid then paused to look over the holographic display, checking over his subordinates and their positions. It was beautiful, to be quite honest. A real armada, to teach the renegades who now defined the law and order demanded, to acquiesce to their betters. Skor II was to be taught a lesson.

And the First Order Sixth Fleet? Its teacher.

First Order Sixth Fleet | Battlegroup Imperator | Imperator Command ​

​

​

​

Spoiler

​

IMPERATOR COMMAND

Name: FIV Pellaeon
Ship: Admonitor-Class Super Star Destroyer [X]
Shields: 0%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: 5 Squadrons of TIE/SF III [X]| 5 Squads TIE Reign Bombers [X]
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Rapier
Ship: Sabre-Class Frigate [X]
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Gladius
Ship: Sabre-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Blade
Ship: Blitz-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar:None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Icepick
Ship: Blitz-Class Corvette [X]
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Falchion
Ship: Blitz-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Cutlass
Ship: Blitz-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Scimitar
Ship: Blitz-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Seer
Ship: Nightgaunt Corvette [X]
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Chaser
Ship: Uhlan-Class Corvette [X]
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Interceptor
Ship: Uhlan-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Artemis
Ship: Uhlan-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Ullr
Ship: Uhlan-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

APEX COMMAND

Name: FIV Apex
Ship: Resurgent-Class Star Destroyer [X]
Shields: 0%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: 3 Squadrons TIE Heavy Interceptors [X] | 5 Squadrons of TIE Crown Defenders [X] | 2 Squadrons TIE Reign Bombers
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Duellist
Ship: Blitz-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Fence
Ship: Blitz-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Harrier
Ship: Blitz-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Paladin
Ship: Blitz-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Jaguar
Ship: Blitz-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Graceful
Ship: Sabre-Class Frigate
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Stolz
Ship: Sabre-Class Frigate
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None 270m

Name: FIV Claymore
Ship: Sabre-Class Frigate
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Exactor
Ship: Assimilator-Class Interdictor [X]
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: 2 TIE/SF Squadrons [X]
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Lion
Ship: Uhlan-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Stalker
Ship: Uhlan-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Wolf
Ship: Uhlan-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Creeper
Ship: Uhlan-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

ENDEAVOUR COMMAND

Name: FIV Endeavour
Ship: Resurgent-Class Star Destroyer
Shields: 0%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: 2 Squadrons TIE Heavy Interceptors | 5 Squadrons of TIE Crown | 3 Squadrons TIE Reign Bombers
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Bombard
Ship: Brawl-Class Missile Frigate [X]
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing at: None

Name: FIV Goblin
Ship: Blitz-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Raider
Ship: Blitz-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Caesar
Ship: Blitz-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Pursuit
Ship: Blitz-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Battleaxe
Ship: Sabre-Class Frigate
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Lance
Ship: Sabre-Class Frigate
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Ranger
Ship: Uhlan-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Courier
Ship: Uhlan-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Dragon
Ship: Uhlan-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None


CENTURION COMMAND

Name: FIV Centurion
Ship: Imperial-X II Class Destroyer [X]
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: 4 Squadrons of TIE Strikers [X] | 1x TIE Reign Bomber Squads.
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Legate
Ship: Vanguard-Class Carrier
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: 3x Ithqua Squadrons [X] | 4x TIE Crown Squadrons | 3x TIE Reign Bomber Squadrons
Firing At: None 1000

Name: FIV Needle
Ship: Blitz-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Hussar
Ship: Blitz-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Prowler
Ship: Blitz-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Legacy
Ship: Blitz-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Ulysses
Ship: Uhlan-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Marauder
Ship: Uhlan-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Dragoon
Ship: Uhlan-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

Name: FIV Phyrric
Ship: Uhlan-Class Corvette
Shields: 100%
Hull: 100%
Hangar: None
Firing At: None

 

[Jorus Merrill]

LOCATION: Local space
OBJECTIVE: Break the blockade
ALLIES: Outer Rim Coalition, Alliance in Exile
ENEMIES: The First Order
FORCES: Howlrunner Fleet

• Command ship: S.S. Gossamer (1500m)
• 2x assorted generic rusty Star Destroyers (4000m total) - Jacquelle, Termagant
• 4x assorted generic rusty heavy cruisers (3500m total) - Montes, Rousse, Volte, Diderre
• 6x assorted generic rusty corvettes (900m total) - Ravenous, Mortain, Vnukk, Tojarra, Sedic, Bluett
• Fighter/interceptor/bomber complement: Average and balanced and rusty
• Total length: 9900m

I let out a shaky breath and stuck my hands in my coat pockets so my fingers wouldn't rattle on the controls. I'd seen my share of fights, even big ones, but the adrenaline never went away. I took a good look at myself to see if I was nervous, and then I put all my focus on the problem at hand.

More First Order ships than I'd ever seen in one place.

I mean, don't get me wrong, I've seen worse. I commanded the biggest ship in the 'verse at the Battle of Druckenwell, up against a Confed fleet that made today look like a walk in the park. But Druckenwell slapped me in the face: you do everything right, and you can still watch bad things spiral out of control. Because my ship won the day, and the bad guys killed the planet.

Judging by last time the First Order came to Skor Two, maybe planet-killing was on the agenda again. Maybe all those little pods were WMDs, flame carpets or bioweapons or some such. My hodgepodge impromptu fleet didn't have the speed to get over there and sweep the leg. No, we had our own job to do, and maybe if we did it well enough, we could draw enough attention to spare Skor the worst of today's menu.

Our job was to kill that interdiction, whatever it took. We had good backup around, good supply lines and defensive whatevers. We'd been expecting an attack like this, right around here, for years -- not Skor specifically, but nearby. We had stuff. That was probably why they'd interdicted the balls out of the system.

Our rusty boats chugged toward the starboard flank of the nearest First Order fleet ([member="Karl Von Strauss"]). They looked like they had the advantage over us, just at first glance, but we'd see once things got snuggly. That would be a little while. We didn't have a ton in the way of long-range weapons (though a couple bigger guns started blasting away), and we hadn't entered standard engagement ranges yet.

Oh, and in case my day wasn't bad enough, we'd put together this fleet out of half a dozen local patrol forces. They weren't used to moving together, and I knew any fancy footwork would come with real risks attached. Right now our formation looked blobular.

Blobular. A good word for today.

 

[Progflaw99]

​

Location: Drop Pod, En Route to Palace Complex​

Objective 3: Coerce/Convince the Squib King​

Allies: First Order | [member="Omari Vyken"] | [member="Keira Verd"] | [member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="Tobias Wrynn"]​

Enemies: Outer Rim Coalition​

​

- - -​

​

No rousing speeches. No ceremony. Rolf was back in the saddle again and despite his return to the FIST the man carried old habits. The team had been briefed beforehand, they all knew what their mission was and how dangerous it would be - even the volunteers attached to the Colonel's strike team. Not all of them were FIST this time around but Rolf was glad for it. In combat, it was important to have the widest skillset and in the conflict they were about to engage in, anything that could give them an edge was appreciated.

The others had been deployed in drop pods similar to his - at least the strike team. Other pods had also been deployed, their arrival aimed towards the outskirts of the city to square away landing zones for the transport shuttles that would be close behind. It wasn't a warzone, at least not yet. Conventionally, the First Order would have given the weapons free order - this time they hadn't. It was a welcome change for the Colonel. If they were lucky, the Squib would listen to the pre-recorded broadcasts now saturating the comm waves.

As the pods rocketed towards the surface, Rolf's display lit up inside his helmet. An expression of concern seated itself upon his features. Red indicators pinged across his HUD, readouts confirming that already several of the drop pods appeared to be... eliminated. A flash of anger reddened the man's face behind the mask of his helmet. They hadn't fired a shot. They hadn't bombarded the city. They hadn't even targeted vessels and already someone was blowing his men out of the sky. Breathing slowly in through his nose and out through his mouth, Rolf calmed his nerves - or tried. There would be plenty of time to give it as good as they got but right now his only concern was preparing for the unceremonious arrival of the drop pod. If their systems held out long enough, chances were good the whole team would land close together. Possibly even on target.

:: Prepare for impact. ETA thirty seconds. ::​

​

Crisp. Curt. Professional. They were a team of the First Order's best and hired mercenaries and despite their ability to kill, Command had put them on a leash. A tight one at that. During the opening phase of their plan, only non-lethal methods were to be used. Stun guns, stun blasters, and non-lethal grenades. As Rolf reminded them during the brief: "We aren't here for blood - Skor II is of no use to us if we go in guns blazing and wipe out half the population in the process of claiming it. All weapons are to be set to stun, unless I otherwise instruct. Is that understood?" Begrudgingly the men of the First Order had agreed, the penalty for dissent was known. In fact, the penalty had been applied the last time the First Order had attempted to secure this very planet. This time was different, the First Order had learned from its mistakes. Or so they thought. *Only one way to find out.* Thought Rolf, moments before his pod would crash onto the surface of Skor II.

 

[Mishel Kryze]

SKOR II​

---

---

---

​

---

En Route to Squab System​

The Princess Leia​

[member="Coren Starchaser"] | [member="Romi Jade"] | [member="Shia Kryze"]​

​

A custom YT-2400 scored its way across the expanse, the pyronium infused hull gave it the multicolor shine as it passed the stars by with ease. The Princess Leia had been the official ship of the Jedi Padawan and her master Coren Starchaser along with fellow Jedi Knight Romi Jade and the Mandalorian Shia Kryze. Their Selonian friend sat ready to take over the controls, meanwhile Coren's droid beeped and whirred. "She'll be back," Mishel said of their Felacatian Jedi Master [member="Marakai Al'Orren"] who had business to take care of within the Confederacy. Word had it that the First Order hadn't taken too kindly to the Coalition's otherwise annexation of the Squab system more importantly Skor II. Skor II from the last Mishel had been there, was a sore mark on a rather impeccable win record for the ever nationalistic Imperial nation.

The droid beeped again, Mishel followed the droid over to the holoterminal, "master it's [member="Jaius Sovv"]." Mishel informed Coren as she worked to bring the transmission through on encrypted channels. No doubt he had a specific mission in mind for the team. Mishel wore her typical bloodstripe trousers with a blue rebel coat holstered pistols, and lightsaber. Hair slung back, and her hazel-green eyes focused on the Sullustan. The Princess Leia's hull hummed with ease bringing any spacer a special comfort most especially as the Selonian remarked they were nearing the revision point for Skor II. Last time, Mishel had been a ren, and last time she had been shown the fallacies of the New Jedi Order then. Hopefully now, she could help exploit the same but against the Ren. "Alright, and here we go." The blue-grainy footage of the man who once commanded so much of the core appeared.

​

 

[Jada Raxis]

Location: Local Space
Objective: SECRET MISH
Allies: Outer Rim Coalition
Enemies: The First Order

Just out of range of the main entry force she was hiding. As soon as First Order had shown up she'd powered down her entire vessel. She had a few folks on-board, but aft the events of her last meeting with these fleets, she knew better than to attempt any kind of head on action. But she'd also reviewed the battle tapes and picked up a few neat tricks. Her gloved hands roved over the console, keeping everything blacked out, so she wouldn't be spotted.

In her head a plan began to brew. First Order curfew was broadcast, which made the young Warden roll her eyes.

​

Like they own the galaxy...pff.​

​

She sat there, keeping watch. Though from the looks of it the closest fleet to her was [member="Karl Von Strauss"] and company. The larger battle fleet, the one she recognized from the holo tapes as Rausegebers was farther off. Lots of ships, lots of firepower, and already drop pods launching.

​

They ain't coming here to play....​

 

[Tobias Wrynn]

Location: Drop Pod

Objective: soon

Allies: [member="Rolf Amsel"] [member="Omari Vyken"] [member="Keira Verd"] [member="Rexus Wenck"]

Enemies: ORC

The Destroyer decanted into realspace, and Stormtroopers filed into their respective pods and dropships. The strike teams were split up strategically to focus on their respective objectives, and the FIST was no exception. His gray eyes glazed over as he felt his body thrust from the belly of the mechanical beast and sent hurtling toward Skor II below.

Wrynn. That was the only thing he could remember from beyond the fog that now covered his mind. Stormtrooper training filled in the gaps- loyalty, tenacity, adherence to protocol- all of the most important aspects of life were the foundations laid out for him, and they helped to make him who he was.

One of the Stormtroopers of the First Order. A bringer of peace, prosperity, and structure. During the briefing, they were given insight into the chaotic lifestyle and culture of the Squib indigenous to the planet below, and counseled on ways to approach, engage, and ideally court the King into simply transitioning to First Imperial rule.

The wrench in their plan was of course, Coalition occupation. The vagrants were in direct breach of the Imperial Mandate that made Skor II a territory of the Order, and thus part of their Protectorate. They had been given ample time to step away, but refused.

Wrynn understood that to mean there would be all manner of scum between them and victory. That was fine. Stormtroopers were the finest warriors in the Galaxy, given the best training, equipped with the greatest equipment...

...ull...sh...t.

His memory fought with him again as he strove to recall the things they told him, that they ensured he would remember, but he could not reach beyond the conditioning. He had the strangest feeling that not everything he knew was as it seemed, but he knew those thoughts were treacherous.

They told him there would be times when he might doubt, but to place his trust in the First Order would absolve him of that. Wrynn had faith. He glanced out for the last time through his own eyes, then slipped silently behind the simulacra of a Stormtrooper helmet.

The pressure and heat of atmosphere bore down on him, and he felt the contents of his bladder press downward, ever promising to burst. He ignored it.

Wrynn closed his eyes and waited.

He would be with his Brothers again soon.

 

[Varian Alaric]

Location| Hanger Bay, Local Space
Objective| Awaiting Orders; preparing to board Transport Vessel
Allies| [member="Varas Ren"] | [member="Marriskcal Lati"] | First Order Operatives
Enemies| Those who defy the First Order | ORC Operatives

Equipment| 2x Lightsabers(crimson), Standard Ren Armour(appearance)
Status| Embarrassed

Primat wasn't nervous. The thought of the coming battle, or should he say, invasion, didn't unnerve him. He knew he would be able to handle himself and any situation that he found himself in with remarkable ease and efficiency. After all, he was a member of the Knights of a Ren. Sure, he was only a disciple of Ren, though he had survived personally insulting Master Kyrel on Virgillia and fighting Varas on Virgillia as well. Though, their duel hadn't lasted particularly long if he had to be honest. Primat hadn't wanted a long duel on Virgillia with Varas, one due to his crush on the Knight, and two...because he felt as though he would lose. Lucky for him, the duel had ended with neither winner nor looser, more of a status-Que was achieved...if you could call it that. He was nervous and panicky on Virgillia, however here...he wasn't nervous whatsoever. In fact, he actually welcomed the coming battle. It would be a good time for his to stretch his wings and hone his skills, without any masters being around.

Primat's face was uncovered for the moment, his helmet was clasped under his left arm, close to his side. He didn't see any point in putting the helmet on, as they weren't in a battle or in harm's way. His right hand idly clasped one of his saber's in hand. His waxy, gloved fingers grazed the cool metal surface of the lightsaber hilt, going over every nook and bump that was in the metal hilt. He hadn't an idea as to what would happen next, he could die, he could lose a hand. Any number of things could happen in all honesty, though at least he had his trademark lightsaber. Primat had held this saber with him since his inception into the Knights of Ren, and it had served him faithfully ever since he first joined...six, long years ago to this day. It had helped him keep himself during his duel with Varas, it helped him on countless missions with his various brothers and sisters of Ren. It never left his side, and his intended for it to stay that way. Primat's glacier blue eyes glanced over the hilt once more, before clipping it onto his metal belt.

Even if something were to happen to him, at least he had Marr and Varas with him. Primat wasn't sure where he stood with Varas, he liked her, a lot, though they hadn't talked a lot since Virgillia. As for Marr, they had first met on Virgillia. And ever since then, they had grown close to each other, almost like they were family. He treated Marr as the younger sister that he had never known he wanted, he loved Marr a lot and it was hard to imagine being in the Knights of Ren without her cheerful presence always being around. It helped to offset the more serious and grim nature of some of the other Ren, such as Kyrel for example who Primat...wasn't fond of. Though, that was besides the point. He would go into this invasion with Marr and Varas by his side, and hopefully they would remain there through the whole mess that was this. He hoped for the best for both of them, seeing as how they were all going in together. He wouldn't leave one of them behind, it was his duty as a Ren and, in part, as their 'family,' if you could call the KoR an honorary family...sure they had their issues, and their infighting, though Primat wouldn't want to be by anyone else's side. He trusted most of them.

As Primat was about to get both Marr and Varas so they could board the transport, a thought creeped into his head. It sounded ridiculous and just, stupid in general. Their was no reason for him to ask Marr about Varas, though their was a nagging feeling at him. He couldn't tell if it was his conscience or a prompting from the Force, though whatever it was, it wouldn't get out of his head no matter how many times he told himself, No. But, he could trust Marr, she wouldn't betray him, ever. And nor would he, so he opted to tell her. Primat tapped Marr on the shoulder, trying to get her attention. Luckily, Varas was out of earshot, for now...so he had to act quick. "Marr so uhm, I have a crush on...somebody. It's someone we, both know. And I wanted to get your advice on something, like what I should get this person. But, I need you to promise me, that you won't tell her. Alright, Marr...can I trust you with this?" It was a risk, though he couldn't ask Varas what she wanted, that would be stupid...and he could get punched, maybe.

 

[Coren Starchaser]

With: [member="Romi Jade"] | [member="Mishel Noren"] | [member="Shia Kryze"]
Holo with [member="Jaius Sovv"]
Aboard The Princess Leia
En Route to Skor II

The YT-2400 was a bit different in lay out and purpose than Coren’s personal YT-2000 Tachyon Rising, the pyronium vessel, the Princess Leia, was the new home, and a base Coren was using during his time in the Outer Rim Coalition, when he was not on movements for his Sector Force. The General got up when he heard the twittling from Porter, his astromech. Looking at Romi from the table, he god up from the game of cards and nodded towards the holoterminal.

He grabbed his jacket, which had his chest holster hanging over it, for his lightsaber. Never one to dress like a Jedi, or a General, Coren had a scoundrel styled outfit that helped take some kinetic damage, and catch a blaster bolt or two. Music was still playing in the background, a song from Corellia, but a generation behind.

“Greetings Chief, on our way into the Skor system.” He had a few other Jedi coming, from the Shattered Order, with even more soldiers making their way to assist the Outer Rim Coalition. He wasn’t about to let the Coalition lose a world on a possible account of hosting the Alliance in Exile. And while he hadn’t been to Skor previously, he knew the stories of what had occurred during the last situation. He looked from the holo to Mishel and the Selonian. A quick drop of then she’d have to go assist the rest of the fleet as best as possible.

“Where do you want us?”

 

[Republic Engineering]

Location: Enroute to the Refugee Camp.
Objective: Defend the Innocent.
Allies: The Squibs of Skor II, The Outer Rim Coalition.
Enemies: The First Order [None in Vicinity.]

​

​

The world of Skor II and its people had suffered much in the months that followed the First Order’s opening gambit in the greater war that followed. Through means unknown to many, the orbiting fleet had turned their weapons towards the planet and fired on their commander’s order; turning portions of the city below into molten slag. Hundreds, if not thousands of non-combatants were slain in that act of deplorable savagery - leaving this planet forever stained by the sins of few. In addition to such barbarity, there were reports of Stormtroopers in orbit that deployed canisters of chemical, if not viral agents in defence of their lives. Had that been a military station, without a dedicated populace of innocent civilians, it wouldn’t have been considered a crime - by warfare standards. Regrettably, there were countless Squibs that called that Salvage platform home, and many of them died as the violent chemicals seeped into the atmospherics.

If that had been the last that these people suffered, my heart would’ve felt lighter, but it seemed that fate would not have it be so. As the Galactic Alliance fell to the treacherous blade, the First Order returned to Skor II once again; seeking vengeance for their rebuffed claim of dominion over the planet and it’s people thereafter. I had to ask myself time and again why they would follow through with such madness. Why would - seemingly reasonable people return to an insignificant world and scar its surface for the second time - when there were greater and more tactically sound military targets ripe for the taking? From a strategic standpoint, there was nothing that could be gained from such a violent act of aggression, but as I delved deeper into my own thoughts - the answer came to me; Pride.

The First Order had been defeated by their hated enemy, and as the Alliance tore at themselves, those very same Imperials sought to rectify their past mistakes in a single act of malice.

It wasn’t long after the fires bequeathed from Orbit began to dwindle that I descended to the ruined surface of Skor II - seeking to assist the populace in whatever manner I could. Sure, they had their own dedicated volunteers who’d tear at the ground until buried loved ones would be found, but the ground was treacherous and I was a Jedi. It was my honour-bound duty to utilize my preternatural abilities to help them without question, even if my mastery leaned towards physical prowess - rather than that of a telekine. I couldn’t stand idly by and watch on as sentient life fought against the aftermath of cruelty in the hopes of saving those near and dear to them. Thus, after allowing the Force to flow freely through my veins, I surged forth into the smouldering fires and crumbling debris. My muscles were no longer subdued by the primal terror that grips sentient life when confronted with adversity, and adrenaline flowed alongside the tidal press of aetheric power. I felt emboldened by Ashla’s embrace and tore at my surroundings - admittedly faster than the Squib reclamation machines - finding a gathering of wounded souls beneath the sundered rock.

Had they remained buried, choking on particulate debris and ash, it was likely they would have perished long before the reclamation digger could’ve gotten to them. I couldn’t let that happen, and while there was little I could do when an entire planet suffered, saving a handful of innocent lives was the first step towards soothing their agony. There was bound to be others like me amidst the rubble, scouring the sundered surface in the hopes of finding survivors. I couldn’t be the only Jedi that resided on the planet, let alone the only one with powers tending to wounded and those that grieved. However, as the locals asked me to ferry these children towards a local Refugee camp - established in the days that followed the Alliance’s fall - I couldn’t tell them No. As I was already feeling the pangs of fatigue take hold in the wake of my powers flowing back towards my spiritual centre, I’d be of little use out in the field. I needed to catch my breath, and they provided me with the perfect opportunity.

With the Children in tow, no doubt rendered into Orphans thanks to the Imperial war machine, I began moving towards where the Squib officer had stated the camp to be located. It wasn’t far, thankfully, as the quakes of exhaustion began to ripple upwards from my toes. I carried the two youths in my arms, as I trudged through the rubble-strewn streets, and was followed swiftly thereafter by three more - who were on the cusp of adulthood. Sadly, I couldn’t carry them. Even if I were younger, and draped with thickly-corded muscle, it wouldn’t have been possible - as finding my footing was treacherous enough as it was with two Squibs in hand. One could only imagine how bad it would’ve been with more! There were times I poked fun at that fact, just to keep their spirits alive, but it seemed they weren’t in a jovial mood - or my sense of humour was terrible. I couldn’t tell, but a part of me believed it to be the former; as it was likely they were worried about their respective families.

If I were in their shoes, I’d be worried all the same.

That was when the skies began to darken with malign portents. From the surface, swaddled in ash and dust, I couldn’t tell that the First Order had returned yet again to finish what they started so long ago. All that I’d known at the time, was that something was coming and that I needed to get these Children to safety - as whatever it was that caused my hair to stand on end - was likely to endanger their lives. I couldn’t care about my own life, nor would I ever; should I survive the coming darkness. It wasn’t the Jedi way to live for the self. We were to be selfless and think of others first. That’s why, as soon as my skin began to prickle, I urged my newfound companions to pick up their pace. We had to reach the Camp, I told them time and against amidst their cries for rest. Once they were there, and secure, they could rest as much as they’d like.

Then, I could see about finding out what this dark and malicious feeling was, and if there was something I could do to help out these beleaguered people.

 

[Tiland Kortun]

Location: Metrobig Amphitheater
Allies: [member="Vorhi Alestrani"]
Enemies: None st present
Objective: None at present
——————————

Word had gotten around, as Tiland had been helping in the refugee camp, that an old friend of his was in the area. More than that, the man had helped hone Tiland’s skills of teras kasi, but their paths had parted, and not yet since crossed again. Since they were both present, Tiland thought to pay the man a visit.

His staff echoed on the stonework as he wound his way to the amphitheater, greeting those he passed with a warm smile and a twinkle in his eyes. Some terrible singing echoed through the amphitheater and Tiland paused to shield his hands with his eyes.

No doubt about it. That was Vorhi. Even in their time together, there had been something outlandish about the man. For all of that, he was a genius. Tiland smiles and took a seat on the closest bench, waiting for the man to finish.

Waiting, he poured a thermos of tea into a travel cup and crushed some herbs into the strainer. A rich, crisp scent wafted up from the drink as Tiland set it beside the staff leaning next to him. He had seen Vorhi do many things, but dance and sing were not one of them. Yet the man was a master in his own right and that could not be left behind, even in a different mode of movement.

Unless Tiland has just gotten very old and could no longer tell good dancing from bad dancing. It was certainly a possibility.

Waiting for the show to finish, Tiland called out, “Well met again, old friend. It has been a long time! Come, have some tea.”

 

[Shia Kryze]

With: Romi Jade | Mishel Noren | [member="Coren Starchaser"]
Holo with Jaius Sovv
Aboard The Princess Leia
En Route to Skor II

Shia walked in behind the two Jedi.

"Just remember, I need to get paid. Those are the rules, and let me tell you, those jackbooted thugs were offering a pretty credit." She commented softly, both sounding absolutely mercenary, and at the same time just stating a casual, friendly fact. Supercommandos only work for free in exceptional circumstances.

She watched the holodisplay, flicking open what looked like a tiny makeup case containing a grey-black paste with which she began to slowly draw lines down her cheeks.

"Ashes of Mandalore and Coruscant." She said to no one in particular, then she snorted. "I should break out the old Clone Wars battle songs. Except that bit about the Jedi being unbeatable." A pause. "And the Vong Wars ones... Motir ca'tra nau tracinya. Gra'tua cuun hett su dralshy'a. Coruscanta."

As the connection on the holocomm went live, she placed the case down on the edge, top still open, without saying another word.

 

[Griet van Vliet]

Location: High atmosphere
Objective: Destroy landing pods to attempt to halt the enemy advance
Allies: ORC [member="Dano Dil"]
Enemies: First Order [member="Rolf Amsel"] [member="Omari Vyken"] [member="Keira Verd"] [member="Rexus Wenck"] [member="Tobias Wrynn"]

"This is Asiago. Given how blobular the enemy is, call in the reserves!" another squadron leader called in, going by the callsign of Asiago.

"Contact V1: they have to acknowledge we're there" T-account advised.

"V1, this is Fiscalist Actual: we're en route now to shoot down as many of these drop pods, and Asiago Squadron is also busy shooting down the pods" she hailed [member="Dano Dil"] while the sensors detected a poodoo-load of targets, such as landing pods. "Emmental, T-account, cover me, everyone else, keep formations tight and fire at will!"

"Roger, roger" Emmental acknowledged, while remaining on Griet's six.

The nightmare was forthcoming: lots of landing pods were descending and losing altitude, and other First Order assets in higher orbital positions. Sure, they were going to broadcast a curfew and also a grace period of 5 minutes pertaining to civilian traffic, but the issue was that the occupants of the surviving FO pods would find, upon landing... most uncooperative Squibs, and hostile ones at that, ready to fire tensor rifles at any confirmed hostile. And, while Asiago just fired every which way at the blobular drop pod formations, with the ordnance bays filled with concussion missiles, Griet was going to shoot at landing pods from another angle, firing three-second bursts at three shots per second of heavy electromagnetic plasma cannons, for a total of 18 shots. In Griet's mind, every drop pod killed is one less threat to the Squibs on the surface. And probably Asiago's too. But she had to be cautious about leading the target in this target-rich environment: even if it was easy to pick a target to fire at, she knew that any individual squadron is going to make a dent in the enemy's numbers at best. She could sense a few pods had some Force-auras that were a little different from the others: something was different to her about the contents of the pod she is firing at. Even with T-account and Emmental providing cover for the Fiscal Terminator, they were only getting started, and hopefully other airborne assets will be there to attempt intercepting the pods themselves or their cargo if enough of the pods survived.

Spoiler

Fiscal Terminator
12 Lyulka-class elite fighters (endurance configuration)
12 Chiloon-IV fighters (standard configuration)

 

[Dax Perl]

Allies: ORC, AiE​

Enemies: FO​

Objective: Protect the Squib King, help organize planetary defenses​

Nearby: [member="Vaudin Miir"], [member="Julius Sedaire"]? Maybe?​

The small blips on Dax's wrist projector rapidly increased in number as First Order vessels dropped out of hyperspace around Skor II. And so it had begun. Ever since the First Order had sent out their initial ultimatum, the Coalition had been waiting, preparing for the inevitable invasion. And here it was, in all its shiny, boringly regulated glory. Wonderful...

The Grand Marshall's boots felt heavier than they ever had before as he walked through the palace hall towards the palace's great hall. The man span the golden band around his ring finger with his thumb, a nervous habit that he'd quickly picked up after first having the ring put on his finger. Yeah. Dax was married now. Who woulda thunk it? Certainly not him, not in his wildest dreams. The way he lived his life? Drifting from place to place, taking down thugs, gangs, slavers, and occasionally fighting wars? Dax could swear that he'd seen more battles than years of life in him. Yeah, whoever he was gonna marry would've had to be certifiably insane. But nope, instead he wound up what he considered the luckiest man in the galaxy, with a beautiful and caring wife, and not one, not two, but three children to his name. And he hadn't even hit his thirties yet. Any sane man in their right mind would've retired from being a Judge at this point. But Dax was neither sane, nor in his right mind. Here he was, about to batter back an invading force instead of out on his well-deserved honeymoon. No rest for the wicked.

The man's boots echoed through the near empty halls of the palace. The palace was remarkably well kept, considering the junker nature of the Squib. They fit right in with the Coalition. And damn did they know how to turn absolute trash into well-working machines. I mean, they still had nothing on the fine-tuned First Order ships and weapons, but, all things considered, the Squibs made off pretty well for themselves.

Eventually the Rogue reached the Great Hall, door still open, Squibs and ORC personnel running to and fro inside as they scrambled to relay intel and orders to various defensive units that had been set up all over the city. In the center of the hall, atop the largest of the tables (which really wasn't that big given the Squibs small stature) sat a large scale holo-projector displaying the planet and the vessels surrounding it. ORC and AiE in green and blue respectively, while the enemy's vessels were in red. "Looks like things are just getting started. FO is already dropping troops planetside, how's Jorus and crew doing up there?"

"He and his ships are getting into position sir. Not sure what they can do though, that's a lot of First Order metal up there."

Dax couldn't help but smirk a little as he picked out the formation, well if you could even call it a formation, of ships lead by [member="Jorus Merrill"] in the giant hologram. "C'mon Halzyn, you should know this stuff by now. Jorus will pull something off, he always does." Despite how confident the young man sounded, somewhere in the back of his mind sat a tiny seed of worry and doubt. Halzyn was right after all, that was a kark ton of FO ships up there. But it wasn't his job to worry about what happened up there, "Anyone seen Vaudin?" Dax asked, "What's the word on the rest of ORC, anyone else coming in?"

 

[Yula Perl]

Location: Metrobig City Flea Market
Objective: Haggle
Allies: ORC | AiE | Old man [member="Zef Halo"]
Enemies: FO | Eventually [member="Elian Keyes"]

“I’ll give you 80 credits.”

“80? This is genuine Corellian Engineering.” The blue furred Squib grunted, cigar hanging from the corner of his mouth. Smoke curled lazily from the softly glowing lit end. “It’s worth at least 140 credits to start.”

Yula pursed her lips as she looked down at the shield stabilizer laying on the table. It looked as if it had been unearthed from an explosion and had rusted over in some places. “60 credits and an Incom heatsink.” Shoving her hand in her pocket, Yula rifled around until she could produce said device, laying it flat on the palm of her hand for the Squib to see. He peered closer, eyes scrutinizing the component for a few moments.

“Lady, that’s faker than my nana’s chest hair after it all fell out. You don’t know chit about haggling.”

“Wha—“ Yula blinked, taken aback at the Squib’s gruff demeanor and the insinuation that she couldn’t detect counterfeit starship parts. The Zeltron mix ended up drifting away, wandering through the bazaar. It wasn’t that the Squib man had taken the wind out of her sails, in fact she was grateful for the opportunity to be in such a bustling area of commerce where life went on despite the threat of the First Order looming over their heads. The imperial machine had been making some bold move lately, turning their eyes to the rogues of the Outer Rim Coalition after the Galactic Alliance fell. Yula hadn’t been involved with them directly but her mother had experience war with the Order on many occasions. It wasn’t something she liked to talk about, certainly not when Yula was younger but every now and then she’d catch Joza staring off into this distance with her hand absently curled around the stem of a wine glass as the galactic news highlighted something or another that the First Order had done.

Yula hadn’t experienced true war before, so in her mind it was still somewhat romanticized. She leapt at the chance for increased patrols around Skor and Polis Massa, two of the former GA worlds that could be in the line of fire very soon. Right now, actually.

Meandering her way towards the city’s memorial to the Squib lives lost in the previous bombings at the hands of the First Order, Yula spied a familiar face. A familiar face that had likely been berated into keeping an eye on her.

“Hey gramps, do you think this is fake? I was—“ She held up the heatsink towards Zef as everything seemed to happen all at once. Ships displaying the First Order insignia were hurdling drop pods towards the surface and her blood turned to ice, heart sinking into her stomach before her mind could even comprehend exactly what this meant. The declaration played over a loudspeaker was somewhat lost in the hubbub of the market as some people hushed and others kept on selling their wares.

“A curfew? I haven’t had one of those in years. And what was that at the end? ‘Hail Singer’?” She’d passed by [member="Vorhi Alestrani"]’s performance earlier and would hardly call it something to hail.

 

[Zef Halo]

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Pjy9MUjrjdI​

​

ORC Affiliated
Tags: [member="Yula Perl"] [member="Alkor Centaris"] ; [member="Julius Sedaire"], [member="Keira Verd"] (maybe?)

A light drizzle washed the dirt of Zef's hair away as he stood before the memorial empty handed. Memories of meeting that ol' crook Razza running through his mind. What was that? 40 years ago or so? He'd met the master haggler Squib smuggler Razza quite some time after meeting [member="Daro Tarsi"] and shortly after disappearing from Yula Perl's life. The scoundrel wasn't even sure how many years had it been since he last saw Razza, he was only sure that he'd see him in the afterlife at Smuggler's Paradise. Ol' Razza had gone down when the Order met the Alliance here. Just another casualty of wars led by men who have never seen the battlefield. Another victim of the constant desire to expand and devour. Laws, rules, governments - all disgusting words in a smuggler's dictionary.

Take care, pal.

“Hey gramps, do you think this is fake? I was—“

Just as Zef turned around to face none other than his younger grandkid an intrusive voice blared through the loudspeakers nearby startling almost every citizen around.

::By declaration of the First Order, a curfew is hereby enacted upon Metrobig City and surrounding areas. Return to your homes immediately. Do not stop at the supermarket. Do not stop to deliver your last package. Return home. Anyone caught in violation of this curfew will be found in violation of First Order law and be prosecuted as such. This is for your safety. Return to your homes immediately. The curfew will be lifted once it is safe to do so. Hail Sieger! ::


He looked up to the skies sighing with his eyes closed.

Not. Fethin'. Again.

Did the karkin order follow him around or something?

“A curfew? I haven’t had one of those in years. And what was that at the end? ‘Hail Singer’?”

"I have no karkin' clue who S-" He paused. "I mean I ain't sure who that would be, kid." Yeah, no cussing in front of children, right? That was parents' law, right? Not like he would know. Zef tilted his head down to face Yula, the name that would always creep up to him at night, and saw Joza. Whatever she'd taken from her father seemed buried beneath everything she had taken from her mother. It made him happy, for some unexplained reason. Joza had turned out to be quite different in the parenting aspect than her father and the old smuggler was pleased about that.

The warm thoughts disappeared the moment the loudspeaker blared again and Zef realized the sudden dire situation that had befallen them.

"Ain't nobody gonn' tell us what to do, kid." And that's a motto that ran deep in Zef's blood by heritage. Joza had it and surely Yula had it, too. "Things are gonn' get pretty heated up soon and you will need to listen to every damn thing I say, kid, if ya wanna survive." His rather calm, but grumpy reaction was only natural. A former Mandalorian, Zef had seen his fair share of war. What troubled him now was responsibility. He'd never had one before but Yula was just that right now.

I am too old for this chit.