Team Members

12004 - Celevon
13752 - Adem Bol’era
13468 - Rrogon Skar Agrona
13560 - Ernordeth

The LIGO installation on Dajorra detected anomalous gravitational wave readings that can’t be explained by the movements of any known stellar bodies or ships. While their exact source is unknown, there is a pattern to the waves that suggests they aren’t natural. Further examination by the Dajorra Intelligence Agency suggested that whomever is behind the attack on Dajorra’s infrastructure is using a gravity generator - likely a smaller version of those found on an interdictor cruiser - to communicate. Through the insightful work of a number of Arconan members, the code was cracked and the message decrypted. Though the contents of that message haven’t been released, the Consul has ordered that teams be formed to track down the source of the message.

Due to the unpredictable and ephemeral nature of the transmission, and despite the DIA’s best efforts, we’ve been unable to determine the exact source. We have, however, found a handful of likely origin points. Your team’s mission is to explore one of these origin points and look for signs of the transmission’s source. Take out the transmitter, if possible, and report any intelligence recovered to your House Summit.

Origin Points

You are free to use one of the following locations as the origin point in the prompt, however you are not required to do so. If you do use one of the following, feel free to flesh out the location as you see fit.

Dajorran Orbit

Though sensor sweeps have come up empty, it’s possible that a ship in orbit - properly cloaked - could be broadcasting the gravitational wave that the DIA intercepted. Intelligence Analysts have worked up the most likely candidate locations based on the LIGO readings, however there’s no way to speculate on the nature of the ship, its size or crew complement. One thing is sure - its crew will almost certainly be heavily armed and well prepared for an assault.

Zratis Arms Manufactory (Korda, Selen)

Nestled in the Atikan Valley in the southern continent between the equator and the southern polar ice cap, Korda is Selen’s industrial heart. Korda is the second oldest city on Selen, and has cemented its role at the forefront of industrial manufacture. This has come at a cost, however. Endless factories and manufacturing plants spew smog and debris, polluting the air and marring the surrounding countryside. Only the richest of Korda’s inhabitants - the industrial bourgeoisie - can afford to live above ground, given the need for expensive air-filtration systems.

In the center of Korda lies the Zratis Arms Manufactory, where the Zratis Arms Corporation - the single largest arms manufacturer in the Dajorra System - fabricates the bulk of their weapons. Within its durasteel walls is a veritable city of heavy machinery, supply warrens and transport and piping tunnels. In addition to whatever forces Lorden might have brought to bear, the manufactory houses one of the most advanced automated defense systems on the planet. Automated turrets, poison gases and an array of biometrically locked doors would be the least worry of anyone attempting ingress.

Abandoned Oriens Obscurum Temple (Boral)

Boral was once the home of House Oriens Obscurum, its particularly slow rotation making it an ideal location for protecting the Clan and allowing fighters to take-off whenever they were needed. The moon, while still uninhabitable, has continued with its massive terraforming project that is slowly transforming the satellite into a living, breathing world. Currently however, Boral is a large rock, pock-marked with deep craters and jutting spires.

Nestled among these craters and peaks is the abandoned temple and dormitory that once housed Oriens Obscurum. Though the planet has been abandoned for over a decade, the occasional traveller will still tell tales of frightful encounters with vengeful spirits when wandering too close to the forsaken rock. No doubt, if such stories are true, attempting to enter the temple itself would prove hazardous at best.

Criteria

In order for a participant to qualify for points, they must make at least two posts of 500 words each or three posts with a combined total of at least 1500 words. The qualifying members of each team will be accorded the placement score of their Run-On (e.g., all qualifying members of the winning run-on team will receive 1st Place).

May the best Run-On win!

W/GSP Broken Blade
Orbit, Eldar, Dajorra System
34 ABY; 0438 Hours, Local Time

The Onderonian tightened the straps that locked the metal bracers to his forearms, flicking his right wrist to eject the hidden blade. A small smirk curved his lips as Celevon flicked his wrist again, retracting the glimmering weapon with a metallic sound. The former Quaestor quickly gave a final check to make certain his weapons were secured. First, the ebony haired male drew each blade with either hand, spinning them in his palms before they were returned to their respective sheaths. Next, the Human drew both of his slugthrower pistols - though, to be fair, the pistols would more accurately be described as ‘hand-cannons’ - from the tactical holsters on each thigh, checked to see that each was fully loaded and returned them to said holsters. Lastly, Celevon ran a hand along his lower back where several speedloaders held a number of slugs for them. Figuring that he was ready for almost any situation, the Assassin turned and started for the door, only to pause abruptly.

Frowning, his silver eyes were drawn to the datapad containing orders to report to Selen for a mission. On the devices, the final words of the message were still visible:

“-due to the sensitivity of this mission, you will receive the full brief and meet with your other teammates at the Citadel. Please note that the forces you will face are unknown - Prepare for anything.”

With several quick steps towards his locker, Celevon grabbed several items and slipped them into the appropriate locations on his belt: A flashbang grenade, one frag grenade, grapnel hook and line, stimpacks. His hand stopped mid-motion, barely caressing his sniper rifle before moving to the side, pulling out a Westar M-5c Blaster Assault Rifle - the Onderonian’s personal modifications to the weapon, beyond what came ‘stock’ on the already heavily modified rifle, was all he needed to pull of precision shot if need be. After securing the weapon to his back, the Onderonian slipped four plasma packs into his belt.

Tilting his head to the side, the Assassin stared blankly at a cylindrical object that had been behind the ammo packs on the shelf. Celevon grabbed it and pulled it down, taking a note off of it. The message on it was simple, yet delivered a combination of emotions.

“Just in case you decide you need another trick up your sleeve, ner’vod.”

The only signature was instantly recognizable to the Onderonian, a glyph that had been tattooed on Celevon’s shoulder blade when he had completed his trials to become a Knight - His Master’s mark.

Taking a deep breath as he pushed his emotions to the back of his mind, the former Quaestor removed the note and tossed it into the locker before he slammed the door shut. He had no time to ponder the complexities of his emotions and difficult situation with his former Mentor. The Human had a mission that took priority.

Flicking his thumb across the switch, an eerie viridian light erupted, slightly banishing the shadows obscuring his features as the beam of plasma hummed. Just as quickly as the blade of the lightsaber came to life, it extinguished, the hilt clipped to the back of Celevon’s belt as the Human exited the quarters with nary a sound beyond the hiss of the door opening and closing.

The Onderonian moved swiftly down the hall, pausing before the door to the quarters of the Umbaran Knight - the only team member that had been listed. Raising his hand, the Assassin gave two sharp raps.

Within seconds, the door slid open to reveal the blank gaze of Adem Bol’era. The Onderonian gave a quick glance over the younger male, taking in the fact that the Gray Jedi only had on a pair of sleep-rumpled trousers. The rubbing of his eyes showed that the Umbaran had instinctively shot out of his bunk to answer the door. “Colonel? Wh-”

“We’ve a mission. I’ve received orders that we’re to make our way to the Citadel on Selen with all due haste. As soon as we report to the Commander, we’ll be dropped off on Eldar to board a shuttle. Gear up, Bol’era.”

As soon as he finished speaking, Celevon pivoted and walked off without giving the Arcanist a chance to formulate a response.