DreamLyrics™ Play-by-Post Forums Hall of Fame - Latest Top 10 completed games CFH: A Call For Heroes CFH1: The Adventure Begins

A long-legged zymod lizard scurries along a thick vine, hung like rigging between trees, then freezes as it hears branches snap. Its chameleon-like eyes pan around separately, scaly hide changing colour to the background.

It squeaks as R2-D2 thuds into it, the astromech's motors whirring as it trundles along the path at top speed. Rose Tico follows close behind wearing Resistance khakis, hurrying, sleeves rolled up, swiping the same vine out of the way with her datapad and raising a louder screach from the zymod.

"Jeepers! Artoo! You know I always considered myself a nature-lover but there is too much mother-loving nature in this jungle! Hey wait up!"

The earthen path has been hard-compacted by engineers but there are few other earthworks or installations. Tents are set up under the trees, camo netting hanging over clearings. Thick cables snake alongside the vines and creepers. Other Resistance personnel are servicing what must be ships, hidden deeper in the jungle.

Behind Artoo, Rose enters the cool shade of a natural karst and is met by the gigantic hull of a Corellian corvette, settled on its massive hydraulic skids.

Resistance Base, the jungle moon of Ajan Kloss in the Outer Rim

The base feels makeshift and temporary, mostly tents, even though it's a year old, showing how under-resourced the Resistance is after the Battle of Crait.

The only reason they're still in the fight is because the First Order lack focus since Supreme Leader Snoke's death, its top generals mostly acting autonomously.

Artoo heads straight for the corvette's access ramp, slowing down to beep, buzz and whistle Binary at Klaud, a tall Trodatome working on an alluvial damper.

"Gree yong, goff lar." He says, flexing his spiny face-fingers at the ramp.

"Good," says Rose, "better if they're all together!" and jogs up the ramp with Artoo.

The placard above the entryway reads TANTIVE IV.

***

The briefing room inside the corvette. Officers in various Resistance uniforms gathered around a holo-projected star chart, most human, men and women, other species too.

Rose arrives as Captain Beaumont Kin speaks. His brown beard is immaculately trimmed as always. Rose has come to respect that. It shows discipline and dignity, something easy to forget when you're camped for a year on a jungle moon. (Something Poe Dameron often waives and he's spearheading the whole war effort!)

Like Rose, Kin is an intelligence officer, though his forte is more galactic affairs, Rose more technical.

He's delivering the briefing the two of them had put together earlier in the day, leaving Rose to continue working through the data dump that the Millennium Falcon brought back from Sinta Glacier.

"...So the Sith base is on Exegol, somewhere in this sector of the Unknown Regions, but it would take months for a ship to reach in hyperspace. That doesn't add-up; there must be some secret to it.

"We know that the First Order were experimenting with Phantom Energy though, allowing them to breach space-time with the Starkiller weapon. And we now know that the Sith Eternal have the same tech built into their Death Star Destroyers---"

"How did they even build such a fleet?" Grumbles Controller Dand, Logistics. The furred Tarsunt still struggles to believe the scale of the threat.

"The Chiss Ascendancy spans most of the Unknown Regions. Probably why that whole arm is still unknown to us. Mark my words, the Chiss are up to their red eyeballs in this." Commander D'Acy chimes in.

Captain Kin brings the focus back to his briefing.

"My point is, there must be something else out there, some phenomenon, a transit, a vortex or something. A point of condensed Phantom Energy that would allow a ship to jump right through it all the way to Exegol, instantly. There are legends about such things."

"You'd need some highly unusual navigation." Comments Lieutenant Connix, Operations.

"The Sith Wayfinder that Luke was searching for." Says General Leia Organna and all eyes turn to her, remembering what Luke Skywalker had sacrificed for everyone of them.

She looks tired, sadder than ever before, but smiles to Kin, not meaning to draw focus.

Captain Kin clears his throat awkwardly and continues.

"Exactly. If Rey and the others can find the Wayfinder, well, it's probably a modified holocron. We'd only need the nav instructions it contains, not the thing itself."

"And then we can broadcast the route to Exegol to the whole Galaxy!" Says Colonel Ackbar, Special Forces. The Mon Calamari is son of the late, great Admiral Ackbar and eager for revenge.

"It won't matter!" Interupts Rose, bring the briefing to a sudden halt.

Kin stares at her, confused. The two intelligence officers get along -- get along too well on some nights, and that has a way of complicating a work relationship.

"Lieutenant Tico?"

"It won't matter." She says again, "No-one will come."

"The Colossus has been building an alliance of every pirate, smuggler and independent in the Outer Rim for the past year." Kin counters, "They'll answer the call."

Rose shakes her head, "The data says we only have sixteen hours before the Sith Eternal fleet have fuelled their superweapons. We won't get the message out in time and I know why." At this, holding up the datapad.

R2-D2 blurps and moves to the console, jacking into a socket, whilst the room watches Rose intently. She's changed a lot from when she was a technician. Since Crait she's confident, stern even.

"Thanks Artoo. I've been combing through data dump from our mole in the First Order and I came across this...."

A pulsing, ever-shifting root network appears on the display. It looks almost like a hydra.

"Ever wondered why no-one came when D'Qar was attacked? Why no-one came when we were trapped on Crait? Why the Republic can't reorganise."

Connix: "The HoloNet has been borked ever since Hosnian Prime."

"And this is why it's borked." Explains Rose, "A cybernetic surveillance system under construction by the Imperial Military before Endor. It reached early-testing phase but wasn't brought online until the First Order showed up and took it over.

"They call it Ghidrah. It's like a distributed droid-brain array that actively monitors the HoloNet. It can track and block any information it touches, based on the parameters you feed it, and it has a long reach. It can even disguise itself in other code and jump channels.

"This is why the only reliable communication we have is between our own repeater ships. Ghidrah is watching and when it sees any comms traffic it doesn't like, it swots them."

The faces in the room are downcast. Despair. Alone, a Resistance assault on the Sith Eternal might take out one or two of the Death Star Destroyers, and that would be time bought for one or two free worlds to organise a defence or an evacuation... it's not hopeful though. Only Leia is unshaken, sensing there's more. Her eyes meet Rose's and the young officer's widen. She speaks up.

"We can stop it though. Ghidrah. We can bring it down! ... I just need a late model Imperial Star Destroyer."

***

Later. Leia's quarters, under an awning overlooking the Corellian corvette. Personnel bustle in the background. Foreground is just Leia, Rose and R2-D2. The two women are close. Leia has spent a lot of time training Rey but there's a sadness underpinning that relationship. Rey will never be Leia's protégé. Rose just might be.

"And you think we can find one on Jakku?" Asks Leia.

They peer at a ruggedised lumi-display, set up on a packing case. It shows a vector map of the desert planet Jakku with red pinpoints.

"Jakku's desert is a starship graveyard. At least two wrecked Star Destroyers from the battle in '82. Rey and Finn told me all about it, they even flew the Falcon through one." Rose replies, with a slight grimace. Did she sound like a starry-eyed little girl?

"Won't the scavengers have picked those clean?" Leia presses, testing Rose's foresight.

"Scavengers are only interested in the alloys and precious metals. No-one wants out of date astronav computers.

"But Ghidrah used the processing power of the astronav computer when it wasn't in use, which when you think about it is most of the time.

"We just need to slice into the astronav computer, General, and that will lead us to the nearest Ghidrah node. Then we go in and take over."

"With Ghidrah we could co-ordinate Galaxy-wide surprise attack..." Leia ponders, relishing the idea though doubts remain, "It's a bold plan, Rose, but we have so little time. Jakku is the opposite direction to the Unknown Regions."

"I'll go." Rose volunteers immediately, "I'll take Artoo, he's the best droid in the Resistance."

Artoo meeps and spins on his bogies, illiciting a chuckle from Leia and Rose. But then Leia frowns regretfully.

"You and Artoo are needed here, Rose. I'm sorry. We still need to find a vulnerability in these Death Star Destroyers."

Maz Kanata: "We can task someone else. I think it's worth it."

The old pirate queen had crept in, remarkably lithe for her age.

Leia: "We can't divert Poe from the Wayfinder mission. Vi Morandi is still tied up on Batuu."

Maz steps up onto a footlocker and stares at the display, adjusting her goggles with a flick. Her wrinkled yellow face smiles.

"I'm a thousand years old but this plan makes me feel like a young corsair again!" She says enthusiastically, and turns to the General.

"Leia, we should send the Awoken. We've trained them well. They've completed lightsaber construction with Professor Huyang."

"Maz, I---"

"They are ready."

At this, Leia averts her gaze, unable to hide her anxiety. Maz jumps down and goes to her, holding her hand.

"I sense it too, Leia, but the Awoken need not share the same fate as the Skywalkers. They are not Jedi, they are not Sith. We've taught them simply to be true to themselves, trust their own heart."

Somewhere outside, a technician working on the corvette drops a hydrospanner. There's some joshing. Leia looks out. Her people are all hard at work but pause to swap banter. Which one of them hasn't lost friends and family? Which one isn't willing to make the ultimate sacrifice? Leia looks at Rose. Parents, sister, gone. The Resistance is her family now and she's still fighting for them. Everyone will make sacrifices before the end.

A ray of sunshine appears from one of gaps in the rocky karst above, brightening the tent.

A BB unit rolls by outside.

"2BB-2!" Leia calls, straightening.

The faded blue droid stops and swivels its head with a confused blurp. General Organa!? It bounces into the tent and extends its fine manipulator into a smart salute. 2BB-2 has a stripped head-dome with tele-photoreceptor and high end crypto-upgrades. It tweets in Binary as if to say Ma'am, yes ma'am!

"2BB-2, talk to R2-D2 here. You're going to Jakku." Says Leia.

Rose shifts excitedly as the General nods to Maz.

"You'd better brief the Awoken then." Says Leia, "And they'll need a ship."

New Republic, Resistance, Sith Eternal, First Order, The Force, Zymod, R2-D2, Rose Tico, Corellian corvette, Ajan Kloss, Outer Rim, Battle of Crait, Snoke, Binary, Klaud, Tantive IV, Captain Beaumont Kin, Poe Dameron, Millennium Falcon, Sinta Glacier, Unknown Regions, Exegol, Hyperspace, Phantom Energy, Starkiller Base, "Death Star Destroyer", Controller Dand, Chiss Ascendancy, Commander D'Acy, Lieutenant Connix, Sith Wayfinder, Luke Skywalker, General Leia Organna, Rey, Colonel Ackbar, Colossus, D'Qar, Mole in the First Order, HoloNet, Hosnian Prime, Imperial Star Destroyer, Jakku, Finn, "Battle in '82", "Astronav computer", Maz Kanata, Vi Moradi, Batuu, Lightsaber, Professor Huyang, Jedi, Hydrospanner, 2BB-2

GM

A corolla of swirling, hypnotic light white.

A starship blasts through it like the slug from the barrel of a gun.

Hyperspace, en route to Jakku

The ship is roughly saucer-shaped with the offset cockpit typical of the Corellian light freighters.

This is an old YT-1210, the rare '1250' special edition. Instead of the two front mandibles of the Millennium Falcon, it has a long, prow-like derrick. Instead of a sensor dish, it has a sensor-boom protruding alongside the derrick.

No armaments, but three oversized engines at the rear. A rusty cargo container is clamped under the derrick.

The cockpit. Classic Corellian freighter layout, though some of the upper glass panes are tinted.

Inside, instruments light the face of a buxom, red-skinned Twi'lek, her flight suit unzipped enough to catch the eye.

She finishes double-checking the astronav projections scrolling on a small green screen, flicks a switch and pushes up out of her seat, heading backwards into the ship.

Following her now. The seats in the cockpit are race-spec, red fabric with contoured support on all sides. Unexpected.

Through a bulkhead into a cylindrical corridor. There's a large advertisement pasted to the wall, for galactic vacations and cheap fares. The headline reads BARGON FLIT, the adopted name of the ship.

The Twi'lek walks along the corridor into a circular passage, in the middle of which is a cage containing hydraulics and an imposing quad laser turret, all folded up as if waiting to pounce up through the hull.

A matte blue BB-series droid rolls out of another room, containing pulsing power conduits, and joins the pilot.

Taking a left, they enter through another bulkhead into a rec room. Auto-chef, lounge seats and Dejarik table. The rest of the team are already assembled, sitting around the room. The Twi'lek and droid join them and they all turn to face Lieutenant Bek.

The Mon Calamari wears his brown Resistance uniform that contrasts quite nicely with his patterned blue skin. He's masterminded a few complex transorbital missions in his time, including emergency evacuation of personnel from Batuu whilst under First Order attack. He knows what he's doing.

He nods to the BB-unit with its stripped down dome and cyclopic black eye. The droid activates its holoprojector.

A low-res orthographic of Jakku shimmers in the air. Notable is the lack of bodies of water. Jakku is arid, drier than even Tatooine, though not as scorching hot.

Zoom into a blip on the map. Grainy imagery of wrecked starships.

"This is desert planet Jakku, the region known as 'The Graveyard'." Says Bek, his voice a posh Coreward accent with a wet Mon Cala growl, "Indicated is the wreck of the Imperial Star Destroyer Inflictor, brought down by the Rebel Alliance during the Battle of Jakku some thirty-five years ago.

"The wreck is over a kilometre long but as you see here, the superstructure is largely intact. Your mission is to access the bridge, power up a computer bank and slice out the astrogation data.

"Once we have decoded it, we will locate the nearest Ghidrah node, go there and sieze it for the Resistance."

The map zooms back out. Another blip, this time in high orbit. Zoom in.

An ominous, arrow-shaped capital ship, sleeker than the old ISD.

"What should be a simple job is complicated by this... a Resurgent-class Star Destroyer of the First Order, sent to monitor Jakku in case of Rey's return.

"Therefore, we have made arrangements to smuggle you to the surface."

Bek strokes the ganglia under his chin.

"The cargo container we're hauling has been modified to provide basic life support. You and your equipment will be concealed inside, when we rendeszvous with a Quadjumper tug in orbit.

"The tug will transport you down to the Graveyard and drop you at a scavenger encampment."

A crude animatic shows the hand over in orbit. The Quadjumper is a squat, ugly looking craft but is designed specifically for the task. It shouldn't rouse any suspicion.

Outwardly, the Bargon Flit too looks just like a freighter, not suspicious.

Inwardly though, it's been heavily modified by the tech-wizards at the Colossus for hit-and-run tactics.

The derrick's reinforced subframe hides a heavy mass driver that can fire a quadranium penetrator, capable of punching a hole in even a Star Destroyer.

And to throw off pursuit, the retractable, quad laser turrets top and bottom and the sensor-boom is coupled to a high-end jammer that should prevent hyperspace tracking. With its radical performance tune, Bargon Flit can jump farther and faster than an X-Wing.

The holo wipes to a fuzzy snapshot of a uniformed soldiers, human female. Square-jawed, stern.

"This is Fira Bon. Republic peacekeeper. After the war, her unit was assigned to Jakku to maintain security over The Graveyard.

"Hardly an illustrious posting. The scheme didn't work out for the Republic or Fira. She went native and has been living amongst the scavengers at Niima Outpost ever since.

"She's old now but tough, knows the lay of the land and is eager to fight the First Order. She and her crew are providing the Quadjumper and will be your contact.

"When you're ready, they'll ferry you back into orbit in the container and hand over to me in the Bargon Flit. The First Order will be none the wiser."

The holo shrinks, giving Lieutenant Bek the room. He chooses his next words carefully.

"I need not remind you that time is of the essence.

"Unless we take control of Ghidrah in the next 10 hours, any Resistance assault on Exegol will be a forlorn hope.

"Without reliable communications with our allies, there will be no second wave and the Galaxy will face the darkness of the Final Order.

"Understood?"

There can't really be a sane response to that. To truly comprehend the scale of calamity, the death and destruction, the subjugation of all natural life--- You would have to be mad.

So better to say that you understand one thing, that you will get the job done.

Light turbulance.

The Mon Calamari looks pleasantly surprised.

"Ah, we have skipped onto a hyperspace lane. We must be close!

"Team dismissed. And may the Force be with you."

[Introduce your character. Set the mood. In-fiction, light banter, make final preparations and ask questions.]

Sirra

Image

The young woman dressed in black and grey leaned back in her seat and folded her arms. Until she spoke, it was almost easy to forget she was in the room. It was almost habit for her. So sometimes when she spoke up, it was a surprise. Her voice was quite pleasant, musical in its own way. The scar on her face was a reminder that this one person needed no reminders of the First Order.

It wasn’t the first time that she thought that a few short years ago this would have seemed almost ludicrous to her. She was the image of a loyal First Order agent. An enforcer of ideology, a purifier. Today ... here she was. Attempting to strike a blow against the first order itself. Back then, she would have been attempting to remove herself from the equation. That Sirra was dead, however.

“So it’s simple then. Get in. Get to the command tower. Get power. Get data. It is still simple. Simple isn’t the same as easy, but still simple. Far as I can see we have the roles covered. Sneaker, hitter, talker, pilot, medic, engineer... we are all set. So starting at point one, we need to find our way from the camp to our goal. Best possible speed.”

Jix

Image

Her head nods slowly at the description of Jakku, mandibles clacking softly. Dry suits her. She does not like wet. And it is good to feel that she will be operational again. Her job to keep others alive, either by fixing them up or by blowing away the enemy. The distinction is insignificant in her compound eyes.

Standing Jix is over 6 feet tall, seated as she now is, she looks all angles and spikes as her chininous shell is folded into the seat. She listens intently to the rest of the briefing. Knowledge is key to success.

Her heads swivels towards Sirra. She doesn't need to swivel her head, her eyes provide a wide range of sight and all at microscopic detail. She can tell for example what Sirra had for breakfast. However she has learned that humans do not like to know the small details, and they prefer heads to move so that they can tell they are being looked at. Although Jix's bedside manner is not the best, she endeavours to modify her behaviour to minimise the discomfort of patients and those she works with. She is concerned about Sirra, knows she is very capable but also takes too many risks. She may not wish to survive. Jix does not really understand humans, doesn't understand that cavelier 'don't care' attitude. But she has saved Sirra once and she will do so again.

Her head turns back to those giving the briefly.

"Fira Bon is trustworthy?"

This may have a different meaning to her.

"She will know us?"

Us? It is good to say that again, although it may be premature.

Jelly Bean

Image

"Were you waiting for me 'Baby'," the Lethan Twi'lek cooed as she glanced back over her shoulder at the BB unit that had rolled out to follow her to the crew lounge. The word she said really wasn't -baby-, rather her own accented way of saying BB. But she was aware of how others heard it and that amused her as well. A nickname and a real name all in one. Jelly Bean had come to accept that everyone should have a nickname if it was given in love and friendship. That wasn't always the case. Her real name had been all that she had left of her childhood life, the only grasp she held upon her own self.

"Thank you for thinking of me, Keella." (Ryl word meaning Darling)

Her gait was almost bouncy, perfected, and the dramatic sashay was no longer an affectation. This woman was built to make an entrance and capture the attention of those around her. The eyes, the lips, the smile. Maybe this had been trained and beaten into her from a very young age but she had worn the mask for so long she finally took hold of the reality and made it her truth. Staying alive was always the first goal.

She paused at the door to let BB enter and she followed, after once last glance up and down the curved corridor to be sure it was clear. Old habits.

Once inside she flashed the radiant smile tilting her head slightly. With practiced ease she leifted the left lekku, carressing it as though the sensations of touch were pleasing to her and she wrapped it across her collar bones, under her chin. The tattooed prehensile appendage curled to grasp the other lekku that hung down her back, like wrapping a living scarf around her neck. Even under the engineering suit and flight jacket she moved like a dancer.

Without a word to anyone, she slipped behind Jix, trailing her fingers across the hard, sharp chitinous carapace of her back. Touch was important to let people know they were loved and cared for and Jix was so alone, separated forever from her own family. Jelly bean understood all too well. From there she sidled around to sit half-cheek on the Djarik table, bracing her weight with her straight leg on the floor. Beside the Verpine, Jelly Bean was a juxtaposition of contrasts. Jix was hard, angles, and sharpness and Jelly bean was curves and softness.

She listened to Sirra, the forner FO soldier. There was all that anger just simmering under the surface. She was always direct. Her saying the word simple brought a thin smile to the Twi'leks face, Sirra obviously preferred to boil down the ideas into single words, one after another, like blaster fire. But nothing was ever simple. Every plan in your head still had to be paired with the plans of everyone else you meet. She wanted to hear the thoughts of others before she spoke... she was just the driver. That was her role to play.

Amos

He was sitting off against the wall behind one of the tables, one boot up on the edge of the table with his knee bent as he sipped his drink and rolled a cigar in one hand. Amos knew better than to light one up in the ship. Not if he didn't want to listen to a world of drak from Bek. There would be time enough for that later. Instead he listened without speaking to Bek's speech and the words of encouragement from Sirra, glancing over at Doc and Jelly Bean to see what they made of it.

"Sounds okay." he simply says.

Lieutenant Bek

Image

"That is correct, Jix," confirms the Mon Calamari, "Fira Bon is trusted. Rey knows her to be a hard case but good at heart. Fira Bon was a professional soldier whose career-defining assignment was as a watch guard on a scrapheap.

"She has no love for the Republic but the Resistance does things her way. We're in this to fight, not talk."

Bek straightens his brown uniform.

He's the only one wearing uniform or Resistance insignia. Everyone else is covert.

"Everything has been arranged by point-to-point hypertransceiver. Ghidrah can't infect these ad hoc connections. From the bridge of that Star Destroyer, we should pass off as a normal freight outfit.

"Fira Bon and her crew are expecting you. Six operators and a BB-unit."

Sirra

“I’m a hard case too, although perhaps the good heart is open to interpretation. And I can see her point with not trusting the Republic. Talk is not going to change or defeat the First order. They are fanatics, and reason will find no purchase as a weapon.”

Here she absently traces the scar leading up to her replacement eye.

Jix has seen that wound when it was fresh, and that it was rather surprising that she had lived through it.

“Either way, we have to trust her because as I see it there is no other real choice.”

She shrugs.

“So how far is our target from the scavenger encampment?”

2BB-2

image

With a brief interjection in Binary roughly equivalent to 'Allow me', the Droid reactivated his holoprojector, returning once more to the map display. Zooming in, highlighting the encampment and the Inflictor, he traced an annotated, dashed line between the two, with an approximate numerical readout.

Completing the line with an unnecessary 'ding!', the spherical machine adjusted the projection into a two-dimensional topological form for ease of organic comprehension.

Winta

image

The human in her late 20s early 30s, dark hair, dark complexion, blaster on one hip, light sabre on the other, and leaning against a bulkhead at the back, listened and watched.

She turned to look at Preach.

"Are you good with this plan too?" she asked.

GM

The scavengers are encamped in the wreckage of an old Rebel blockade runner, downed in the same battle as the Star Destroyer. 2BB-2 displays a short distance between the two.

Lieutenant Bek studies the dotted line in the holo with his big, bulbous eyes.

"Running repulsors over the hull of the wreck would risk structural collapse, so the scavengers will provide you with their preferred mode of transport." He says, pausing before adding, "I doubt it will have dual-stick controls."

Preach

The old man kept to himself much of the time. Whether it was in meditation, or in practice with his lightsaber, the weapon of the Jedi. It might be that these particular people knew of the Force, had heard all he had to say time and time again. He didn't push his beliefs on everyone, as much as he did like to share them with anyone who would listen.

He was so quiet so much of the time, it was as if he almost wasn't there. Yet looking around one could spot him standing quietly listening. The old man might have been a part of the Resistance for some time, and might even have been involved in many different types of actions. You wouldn't know, to hear him talk. He didn't talk about himself much. More he talked about the wonders of life, the Force, and the wonders in the Galaxy.

He smiled at the mention of transport. He had ridden many animals on many worlds. When one didn't have monetary wealth, one didn't get to choose how they traveled, usually.

Winta

She gave a small smile. "I'll take that as a yes," she said to Preach.

Winta pushed herself upright off the bulkhead.

She looked over at Bek. With a curt nod, she said, "We're good to go."

Jix

She is aware of Jelly bean's touch. In some ways it is like the verpine touching antenna, though not as intimate. She does understand it as a gesture of acceptance, which can be rare and si it is appreciated. She waggles her antenna is response.

It is good to get confirmation. She likes to be sure that she has understood correctly, assumptions can be dangerous. She likes things to be orderly. Everyone has a role, a place. Every piece of kit is stored as it should be for maximum access. It doesn't do to be a medic and not have the right tool to hand.

Again her head swivels as Winta speaks. Winta is the leader of their group. That is the order of things here. In addition there is another, Amos, ready to take over should it be necessary. Always good to have redundancy planned for. It is efficient. She is not sure what might happen if both Winta and Amos are taken out. Perhaps that might be bad enough that all will then fail? Jix will have failed. Perhaps she should ask that question later.

GM

Zoom into the holo projected by 22B-2. The First Order Star Destroyer.

***

High orbit above the pale, featureless planet Jakku.

The Silencer, Resurgent-class Star Destroyer of the First Order.

3 kilometres long, carrying an entire Stormtrooper legion and two TIE Fighter wings.

A spearhead in shape and purpose. Slabs of grey armour-plating and arrays of turbolasers.

Like a line of tiny insects, smaller ships queue for access to the orbital transit lane under the menacing gaze of the Star Destroyer's bridge.

The view from inside.

A First Order commander stands silhouetted, hands clasped behind her back; staring out at the congestion her enforced restrictions have caused. She wears the dark grey uniform of a general officer.

"Admiral," says one of the junior officers from the pit, "The Supreme Leader is establishing contact."

The Admiral turns. Blonde hair, tied back in a severe bun, adding to the agelessness of her smooth, high-cheek-boned face.

Tall and statuesque, she has a desirous look. A greed, an appetite.

On the walkway, the air shimmers as a holocast appears, colorised and distorted, but it is the mask of the Supreme Leader Kylo Ren. Its cracks welded with glowing Sarrassian iron.

"Supreme Leader." Acknowledges the Admiral with a tilt of her head.

Unlike the other bridge personnel, she does not look afraid. She looks... rapacious.

"Admiral Avarik." Says the Supreme Leader, his voice low, synthetic, lifeless, "Your control zone is in place."

"For sometime, Supreme Leader." Affirms Admiral Avarik, her accent smooth, Corellian, voice confident. "All ships wishing to land on the planet are being inspected."

"I want the Scavenger found, Admiral. And if you catch others in the Resistance, break them, they will know something... or not."

"It will be done." She says.

"Make sure of it, Admiral Avarik. You would not like the Knights of Ren to show you how it's done."

The holocast cuts out and the rest of the bridge hastily returns to what it was doing.

Admiral Avarik smirks. A older figure approaches from the side, silvery hair and beard, well groomed, wearing luxuriant black and white robes. A dignitary or noble, retired military perhaps.

"Don't try to play with Kylo Ren. He's volatile." Says the old man with a gravelly voice, the same accent as the Admiral.

She gives him a subtle but cocky smile.

"Our future is with the Final Order, and it's commanders like Pryde that will lead us." Avarik says, adding scornfully, "Kylo Ren is just a lost boy."

At this, the old man places a firm hand on her shoulder, cautioning:

"Do not underestimate the power of the Dark Side. It can bend a mind to its will, defy loyalties. Set even family against each other."

Admiral Avarik looks kindly for a moment, squeezes the hand on her shoulder gently before removing it.

"Don't worry, father. You know how careful I am."

When she says this, there is a whine of servos behind her and two tall droids step out from the shadows, standing to attention. Both have roughly the same, scarred duralloy chassis. One is blue accented with ragged robes, the other black and red accented. Both have glaring red eye-lights.

A MagnaGuard and a Jedi Hunter droid.

***

Outside, in space.

«Confirm Bargon Flit. You have not requested a landing vector.» Tinny voice over comms.

«Confirmed. We're just dropping off our load in orbit. Then it's someone else's problem.» A Mon Calamari responding.

Pause.

«Roger that, Bargon Flit. Proceed along corridor 5 and make your drop. But if that junker breaks down in the ionosphere don't expect us to recover you.»

The YT-1250 freighter's exhausts flare at low thrust and it accelerates slowly out of the queue of traffic, joining other container-carrying ships, Wayfarers and the like.

A gang of spacetugs await them, the planet surface aglow in daylight behind them.

Codes are exchanged and the Bargon Flit releases its cargo container to a Quadjumper tug. Four powerful ion engines with a cramped cab jammed in the middle and not much else.

The tug clamps onto the container with its feet, drawing the top side in close until it's flush with the tug's underbelly. The magnetic locks engage with a loud bang.

Wasting no time, the Bargon Flit swings around and accelerates away into space.

Inside the container, the sliding top hatch opens with a hiss and weak amber light leaks through, enough to illuminate the faces of the team.

"Anyone still alive down there?" Asks a woman's husky voice.

Who will be first up into the Quadjumper.

Jelly Bean

Image

The Twi'lek woman waited for others to make the move. Winta or Amos... or whoever they directed to exit the container first.

Preach

He sat cross-legged waiting, patient. It wasn't his place, yet if he was sent in first, he would move and act. Till then he let his feelings reach out and sense what they could.

Sirra

Winta was in charge. Allow her to do so.

She leaned against a bulkhead, looked towards both Winta and Amos and raised her eyebrow.

Amos

The rugged former lawman got to his feet, picking up his scatter blaster and looked up at the opening and the woman there.

"Depends on your definition of alive." he replied, looking for a ladder or some other way up.

Winta

She nodded to Amos to carry on, as she pulled on her cream-coloured knee-length coat, a coat that, once on, obscured her weapons from immediate view.

GM

"You better come up then." Says the woman's voice and a collapsible ladder drops down from above, unfolding as it does.

It's uncomfortably stuffy in the container. You've been waiting in traffic on the day-side of the planet so the walls have heated up and the portable life support unit is droning away.

You wouldn't want to re-enter Jakku's atmosphere while inside.

Sirra

Image

The young woman clambers up quite lithely.

“Atmosphere in there does terrible things to the hair.”

She says drily, although in a look it’s pretty obvious she doesn’t really care about that.

Winta

She shouldered her backpack and waited for the others to all ascend the ladder, wanting to take a look around to make sure nothing had been dropped or forgotten before she herself went up.

Amos

Ascending the ladder, he looked around the interior of the vessel with practiced eyes before finding a place to sit for the journey down to the surface of the planet below.

"All Clear up here." he called back down to Winta.

2BB-2

The blue orb surmounted by the boxy sensor array didn't particularly bother with the ladder, the BB-series reknowned for being designed with go-anywhere sensibilities in mind. Those unfamiliar might be alarmed by the sudden firing of a grappling hook, so 2BB-2 made sure to tweet out a warning beforehand, prior to deftly winching himself through the hatch, burbling a polite greeting and a tip of the retracting grapple to their new hosts.