- Joined
- Mar 9, 2017
- Messages
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- Reaction score
- 187
Afann, a byword in the legion for an unwinnable war, tropical diseases and stagnated careers.
There is no territory to be gained or medals to be won but you might find it character building, to coin a phrase.
Capture (city hall and plant) the Flag
Governor-General Elphinstone summons you loudly into his briefing room. His face is puce and glistens with sweat. He grunts to acknowledge your presence and does not return your salute. To begin with, you assume its the heat - which is sweltering - but it shortly becomes clear that he has worked himself into a frothing rage. He points to the datascreen over his shoulder. "What in blazes is that?"
"Sir?"
"Well?"
"It's old Damash... the town hall"
"No! No! No! It's the Emperor's Damash, the Emperor's Town Hall, MY Town Hall! Why is my flag not flying from its flagpole?"
You hold your tongue. He does not expect an answer.
"Well you have your orders. In 72 hours, I expect that flag to be seen by all around. And they shall fear the wrath of the Empire. They shall fear me..."
You come to attention, salute and leave the briefing room. As you walk back towards your digs to get ready for the Governor's vanity project, you reflect that you can see why he got lumbered with this forsaken command. Unfortunately, you got lumbered with the even more forsaken posting of being under his command.
[Ask Thread 2-3 participants; no more than one non-IL]
Death Cult
You come into Commander Ross' office. Or at least what passes for an office in this vast collection of prefabricated, space dropped buildings. Commander Ross has hitherto been a shady character, the only insignia he wears is that which designates his rank. No-one seems to know what his role is, or who he answers to. The office is cluttered, but offers no clues.
He hands over a datapad. There's a picture of a child, just before puberty.
"See that child?"
You nod
"Swipe for the next image"
You see a smoking hole in an outpost wall. The troopers who had been on the firestep were lying lifeless, tens of meters from the wall.
"That's what happens when a thorium charge goes off right under our nose. This isn't the only attack like this out East. Needless to say the troops out there no longer let children get too close. But it's not just children with thorium charges and outpost walls. There is something out there that is driving them to new lengths and depths."
"What can we do?" you ask
"We have been in touch with a contact off world. One who knows about these things. You will escort them where they need to go. They're due at the spaceport at 1500 hours. Be there."
"Sir."
You leave and check your watch. 1448, Commander Ross clearly doesn't like to give much leeway...
[Ask Thread 1 IL 1 Sith (Inquisitor preferred)]
My Enemy's Enemy
Commander Nairn is Governor-General Elphinstone's Aide-de-Campe. He is a grandfatherly figure whose best days in the Legion are clearly behind him. The fact that he got to such a ripe age and not progressed beyond Commander tells you that even those best days were not particularly stellar. He shows you a map of the Southern sector. It has a number of coloured areas. The largest two are blue and green. He starts giving you an anthropological history of the peoples around. You zone back in to the end of his rambling explanation.
"...and for those reasons they were at war with the vla'ghurs and the gagan-vahnts and as you might imagine, them being at war with each other meant that they mostly left us alone. But now the tra'fads seem to have made peace with their old enemies and, long story short," if only, you think, "the Governor-General would like it if the status quo were resumed. Whether you use the carrot or the stick is your choice."
[Ask Thread: 2-3 participants; no more than 1 non-IL]
You're Our Only Hope
Kkkk...kkkk... Your holonet operator adjusts the signal. You are stationed on the northernmost outpost of Fort Basilica's perimeter. There has been no sight of anything outside the camp for your entire two week rotation.
"This is outpost N244, Sergeant Bakeman speaking. Platoon Commander Kennedy is dead. The insurgents have us surrounded, we are running out of food, water and ammunition. I don't know how long we can survive..." the transmission ended. You leave your second in command in charge and head directly into the communications trench and into the main camp. When you get to the HQ, you find the Governor-General at his desk. You tell him what you have heard.
"It's a trap of course..." he pauses. "A trap we must spring..." your heart falls as he looks around the room, as if there were others in the room to be subjected to his latest whim. "Ah, you. You'll do. You received the message, you can perform the heroics. I'll see if I can spare anyone else."
[Ask thread: 2-3 participants; no more than 1 non-IL]
There is no territory to be gained or medals to be won but you might find it character building, to coin a phrase.
Capture (city hall and plant) the Flag
Governor-General Elphinstone summons you loudly into his briefing room. His face is puce and glistens with sweat. He grunts to acknowledge your presence and does not return your salute. To begin with, you assume its the heat - which is sweltering - but it shortly becomes clear that he has worked himself into a frothing rage. He points to the datascreen over his shoulder. "What in blazes is that?"
"Sir?"
"Well?"
"It's old Damash... the town hall"
"No! No! No! It's the Emperor's Damash, the Emperor's Town Hall, MY Town Hall! Why is my flag not flying from its flagpole?"
You hold your tongue. He does not expect an answer.
"Well you have your orders. In 72 hours, I expect that flag to be seen by all around. And they shall fear the wrath of the Empire. They shall fear me..."
You come to attention, salute and leave the briefing room. As you walk back towards your digs to get ready for the Governor's vanity project, you reflect that you can see why he got lumbered with this forsaken command. Unfortunately, you got lumbered with the even more forsaken posting of being under his command.
[Ask Thread 2-3 participants; no more than one non-IL]
Death Cult
You come into Commander Ross' office. Or at least what passes for an office in this vast collection of prefabricated, space dropped buildings. Commander Ross has hitherto been a shady character, the only insignia he wears is that which designates his rank. No-one seems to know what his role is, or who he answers to. The office is cluttered, but offers no clues.
He hands over a datapad. There's a picture of a child, just before puberty.
"See that child?"
You nod
"Swipe for the next image"
You see a smoking hole in an outpost wall. The troopers who had been on the firestep were lying lifeless, tens of meters from the wall.
"That's what happens when a thorium charge goes off right under our nose. This isn't the only attack like this out East. Needless to say the troops out there no longer let children get too close. But it's not just children with thorium charges and outpost walls. There is something out there that is driving them to new lengths and depths."
"What can we do?" you ask
"We have been in touch with a contact off world. One who knows about these things. You will escort them where they need to go. They're due at the spaceport at 1500 hours. Be there."
"Sir."
You leave and check your watch. 1448, Commander Ross clearly doesn't like to give much leeway...
[Ask Thread 1 IL 1 Sith (Inquisitor preferred)]
My Enemy's Enemy
Commander Nairn is Governor-General Elphinstone's Aide-de-Campe. He is a grandfatherly figure whose best days in the Legion are clearly behind him. The fact that he got to such a ripe age and not progressed beyond Commander tells you that even those best days were not particularly stellar. He shows you a map of the Southern sector. It has a number of coloured areas. The largest two are blue and green. He starts giving you an anthropological history of the peoples around. You zone back in to the end of his rambling explanation.
"...and for those reasons they were at war with the vla'ghurs and the gagan-vahnts and as you might imagine, them being at war with each other meant that they mostly left us alone. But now the tra'fads seem to have made peace with their old enemies and, long story short," if only, you think, "the Governor-General would like it if the status quo were resumed. Whether you use the carrot or the stick is your choice."
[Ask Thread: 2-3 participants; no more than 1 non-IL]
You're Our Only Hope
Kkkk...kkkk... Your holonet operator adjusts the signal. You are stationed on the northernmost outpost of Fort Basilica's perimeter. There has been no sight of anything outside the camp for your entire two week rotation.
"This is outpost N244, Sergeant Bakeman speaking. Platoon Commander Kennedy is dead. The insurgents have us surrounded, we are running out of food, water and ammunition. I don't know how long we can survive..." the transmission ended. You leave your second in command in charge and head directly into the communications trench and into the main camp. When you get to the HQ, you find the Governor-General at his desk. You tell him what you have heard.
"It's a trap of course..." he pauses. "A trap we must spring..." your heart falls as he looks around the room, as if there were others in the room to be subjected to his latest whim. "Ah, you. You'll do. You received the message, you can perform the heroics. I'll see if I can spare anyone else."
[Ask thread: 2-3 participants; no more than 1 non-IL]
