Fandom STAR WARS: FALLEN ORDER [Main Thread]

[Booperboy]

"Execute Order 66."
A raspy voice spoke over a holocommunicator. He stood, cloaked in a dark robe and a hood to hide his identity. He spoke to the Commander of the Rancor Battalion, a small sub-group of the 501st.
"It will be done, my lord.", the Clone spoke back to the hooded figure.
In front of the battalion was the Coruscant Jedi Temple and behind them, the entire 501st Legion marched towards them. Leading the charge was none other than Anakin Skywalker. What was about to occur would be one of the bloodiest events in the history of the universe.​

 

[Booperboy]

[YOUR BEGINNING POST SHOULD BE ABOUT WHAT YOUR CHARACTER WAS DOING DURING THE EXECUTION OF ORDER 66. WHEN EVERYONE HAS POSTED THAT, WE'LL MOVE INTO WHERE OUR CHARACTERS ARE IN THE PRESENT.]

 

[ManofManyRoles]

Peace...let the force flow through you...let it show you the way towards your future...His masters thoughts had been with him when he entered the tranquility spire that day. The knighting ceremony was to be set for tomorrow, and he'd finally be more than a padawan...he'd be expected to follow the code, and join one of the three branches of the jedi. It was like a whisper, nothing more than an idea at first, but it slowly consolidated. The role of a guardian would be fitting, and it lay before him in clarity as time went on. This whisper was silenced by something much louder, and much more chaotic. At first, it was faint, something he tuned out..and then it would rise in volume, mingling with new sounds...blaster fire..and screams. They were under attack, but who would storm the temple? The other padawans in the spire had become alerted to it as well, and were beginning to move. Their knighthood would wait if it had too, their duty came first. It wasn't even five minutes, and they had moved as a group to investigate. What they found, was clone troopers...the republics loyal soldiers, gunning down anyone inside the spire and temple.

Some of the padawans rushed forward in an effort to aid the other jedi who were fending for their lives, others following suit after a mere moment of hesitation. Lofurra was among the last to act, the shock being quickly replaced by the urge to aid and protect. His blade ignited in an amber glow, a much larger than usual blade just shy of the wookiee's own height. The engagement was brief, and would have been briefer, if not for a few things. The fact his race were hardy and could take a few bolts aided his resolve, and while he managed to deflect many, a few slipped through, hitting non vital points on his body in glancing blows. The assaulting clones were numerous, and he may have died...before a familiar figure cut him a path out. A short kel dor woman jedi had carved their way into the struggle, barking orders at the padawans that could hear her. "This is a losing struggle! Make your way out, now!". Some listened, only to be gunned down. Others stoicly stood their ground. Lofurra was among the latter, until she addressed him directly. "If you have ANY respect for me as your master, you'll live another day, now go!". The last words he'd ever hear, as she was gunned down without mercy right before him.

Every instinct in his body told him to fight and avenge her death. But he had his honor and his duty to obey her dying wish, so he made the slow escape, backing his way out, watching other jedi be gunned down around him. He might have joined their ranks as well, if not for his determination to live on, and his bodies refusal to give in. He would escape, and he would live on as she wished. For a moment, he was surrounded, and when all hope seemed lost, he preformed his last trick. Holding a hand forward, crackling amber bolts of electricity flew forward, making quick work to incapacitate the clones who had closed in on him. With the little breathing room he had, he ran out, and he didn't stop. He didn't stop when he took one last bolt to the leg, he didn't stop when his body begged him too, and he didn't stop until the jedi temple was behind him.

 

[PolikShadowbliss]

Calessa Vortuna


Calessa stood in a medative state, listening to the waters and birds of her home. It was peaceful here, and for a moment, she could forget about the war. Though she could still feel the inky oil stains on her tunic, and some had even splattered on her face. Blood. The closest thing to blood a droid had. They stood around her, shattered into a thousands pieces, B1 Battle Droids, B2 Battle Droids, and even a couple of destroyer droids, though the clones had certianly helped with those. A inch of a smile curled on her lips, she was grateful for the clone army, of that much she was certian. The fighting on Naboo was distant now, barely in the fringes. Her Master, Cly Lin, was strangely dark this morning, claiming that the worst was yet to come. Her Master was always dark with looms of doom and terror. She supposed it was his way of teaching and protecting his students and she had long since grown used it.

She felt his presence before he even spoke. A hard footfall, as if by someone marching and for a moment she felt her body tense for no reason whatsoever. Then she breathed and relaxed. The footfalls stopped and an voice spoke, through what she could only describe as a filter. It said. "Padwan Vortuna. You are needed in the Command Center." The way the clone said the words, if some form of reverance, always awed and impressed her. It also disturbed her. It was hard to distinquish these bloody clones from one other. "I am mediating." Came her automatic peaceful response. She absolutely hated when someone other than her Master disturbed her medation, but she quickly supressed her vivid annoyance. Emotional responses were not the Jedi way. The clone shifted a bit, and for a moment, she heard the rifle clutch in his hand as if he was intent of firing it, but instead he said in a strange tone, "Master Cly Lin insisted." She opened her eyes and looked toward the clone trooper. The clone trooper looked just like any other clone trooper, sounded the same too. She had the inkling to ask for his name but fought against it. She probably wasn't going to remember it anyway. "Very well," she said, turning away, "if my master insists." And with that, she turned on her heel and walked off toward the Command Center. The clone trooper following close behind, almost too close, so close that his muzzle was inches away from her back. A single pull of the trigger and she was dead. But she knew that clones were above all loyal and concise. That's what she loved about them.

The Command Center was an impressive building, it stood in the center of the city, then again most buildings on her homeplanet were beautifully impressive to behold. She passed through the stone pillars and walked toward her Master Cly Lin, who was eying a battle chart of the nearby system. He was a tall man, broad-shouldered with long dark hair, and a long beard to match, his dark eyes would narrow at you from afar and he would give her the sense that he was reading her mind. Beside him, the only distinctive clone she had met, was Commander Delta, his red strips clear and almost glowing through out the building. Besides him were several more clone troopers. "Padawan Vortuna. You have come." Her Master said this without turning. "Good. Good." His voice was deep and gravelly, harsh as well. It was as if a Sith were masquerading as a Jedi, at least she imagined it that way. In truth, he was vividly attached to the Jedi Order and it's Code. Ironically. Her Master turned toward her as she settled beside him, his eyes penetrating. "I have a task for you, my dear Padawan." It's Calessa, she wanted to say but held it in. "Oh? What is it, my Master? Surely the fighting is done here?" The moment the words were out, she mentally kicked herself. Of course the fighting wasn't done. Cly Lin's eyes narrowed dangerously, "it would appear so," he spat out, "yet the fighting is not over. A few reminants of Separatist rebels are still fighting in the fringes. I want you to take them out. A squadron of clones will help you."

"Oh, so you are sending me to fight a few more droids?" she said, smirking, allowing herself a temporary relapse of her normally Jedi persona, "big deal, I'm certian the clones will take care of it." A few clones looked at each other, and indeed a frown darkened her Master's face but it was Commander Delta who answered, "would be if that were true, Padawan Vortuna, but it appears that the remaining Separatist forces are all-too-human. We need a peacekeeper, a negoiator." Then why don't you send my master? Because this is a test, another test. Her Master was always testing her. It was just then that Commander Delta must have gotten something in his comms, because he immediately straightened up, "if you were excuse me sir and madam, I need to take this somewhere private." Somewhere private?? So when do Commanders have private communications? She looked upon her Master, who made no move. And then at the retreating Commander's footsteps. She suddenly had a very bad feeling about all this, a sense of forboding so intense that it felt as if it were eating away at her core. "I guess I will be going then." Her Master made no reply, which was odd in of itself, but then Commander Delta came back. Must have been a short talk. "Ah Commander Delta," her master began, "please excort my padawa--" And that was the last thing she ever heard him say for at that very moment, Commander Delta shot him in the head. Her Master didn't even have time to react, the blaster bolt had cleaned straight through her Master's head as if it were a grape. Cly Lin crumpled almost instantly, his body falling to the floor almost pathetically. Then the blasters, all of them turned from her dead master to her and fired ...... ​

 

[RayPurchase]

The ship slipped out of hyper space into the unamed sector. It began to drift through the emptiness, if one was to look closely they could see what appeared to be a trail left behind it. A stream of venting coolant and fuel, freezing as soon as it left the ship, leaving an icy trail in its wake. The ship was listing slightly, and multiple scorch marks and impact craters littering the ship's hull, clearly she had been in a fight. However the Republic emblem on her flank remained unblemished, with the name of the stricken vessel embossed underneath ‘The Spear of Anaxes'

Onboard

Inside the ship was in chaos. Corridors were lit with the red of emergency lighting, illuminating strewn debris and a multitude of damaged sections and consoles. Crew members were moving down them at fast pace, makeshift damage control teams dealing with fires and any ruptures in the hull, whilst medical teams were scooping up those who were too injured to perform their duties. Whilst the corridors were full of crew, the bridge was somewhat emptier. It was designed for 8 hands including the captain, up to 15 with passengers and guards but this would have been a squeeze. There were only 4 here however, the Captain and 3 bridge officers.

The officers were pouring over the screens, multiple reports coming in from all over the ship.

“Breaches to deck 3, 4 and 6, teams are enroute but are having trouble with blocked corridors,”
“Medbay is at full capacity, the Canteen has been repurposed for overflow,” “We're getting unconfirmed reports from Engineering that one of the reactors is not responding to shut down procedures. Attempting to get a clearer answer from them,”

Amongst all of this the Captain was sat on his chair. His uniform was torn in places, and like his face blackened from smoke. A cut above his right eyebrow was bleeding, the worst of it having stopped however. One of his officers had attempted to send him down to the medbay, but he got a pretty short and sharp answer in response. Odile looked up, as if noticing his surroundings for the first time. He cleared his throat, his voice was hoarse from barking orders and smoke inhalation. His cold grey eyes turned on the Comm Officer.

“Lieutenant Lyvans. I want you to get the comm system up and running. Though we are battered and bruised, we much spread word of the treachery that has occurred today. I want us to be ready to broadcast in the next 5 minutes,”

He closed his eyes again as the Officer snapped a salute and began warning up the communications array, thankfully undamaged. He could still hear the screams of dying men, and the incessant laser fire. His men, his fellow captains, shot down as they fought and fled their way through the station. Not by separatists or terrorists no... his gloved hands gripped tightly against the arm rests, the knuckles going white. By the very Republic Clone Troopers who had been garrisoned he station. The very thought made him feel sick, this had to be a mistake some sort of rogue batch, or a division turned traitor, there was no other plausible explanation. He snapped back out of his stupor as Lieutenant Lyvans began speaking.

“Comm system is up and running sir and we're getting... we're getting a lot of reports flooding in, you should see this Sir,”

The poor young man was near shaking in his boots, his face pale and quivering. Captain Duvalis came him a brief nod of his head .

“Very good Lieutenant, onscreen,”

He view screen flickered into life, static washing away as numerous camera relays, and audio locations began flooding onto it. The officers went silent with their status updates and Duvalis’ grip on the chair slackened as the enormity of what he was watching and listening to began to become apparent. Countless terrified cries for help, Jedi all of them, Padawans, Knights, Masters, all crying out for help in a Galaxy in Flames. Clones turning against their commanders, slaughtering them in cold blood, the comm channels were clogged with countless similar tales. Amongst it all a report worked its way to the top, from the Republic Naval Command, 7 traitors within their ranks, conspiring with the Jedi in their plot to overthrow the Reublic. Their faces began to slowly scroll across the screen, each of them recognised at once, 6 of them were fellow comrade in arms, having come through the Academy together, each marked ‘Deceased'. The final profile emerged on screen, the cold grey eyes matching his own, as he stared at his own reflection, he stamp ‘At Large" stamped across the bottom of the picture. This is what he had been reduced to, a traitor to the Republic, to the principle that he had served without question for over 20 years of his life. He pushed himself up from his chair.

“I want a ship wide broadcast... now,”

The comm officer quickly complied, giving the Captain a thumbs up, stating that he was now live. Captain Duvalis leaned in towards the comm system, his hands spread on the console.

“This is the Captain. We have been betrayed,”

He paused for a moment, his mouth dry at the words he had just spoken, admitting it out loud for the first time

“It has become apparent that the actions taken against ourselves, and the other 6 ships docked at Anaxes station was not just a random localised event. As I speak it appears that Jedi commanders throughout the Galaxy are being mercilessly slaughtered by the Clone Troopers under their command. We have been labelled traitors, complicit in a plot to topple the Republic, and replace it with who knows what. We know the truth however. It is not us that have betrayed the Republic, but whatever the Republic has become has betrayed us, killing our brothers in arms, and now turning against itself in its slaughter of the Jedi. No. We are the last loyal members of the Republic, the last loyal ship, we have been battered, we have been bruised and we have bled. But we are still standing, we shall not go quietly into the night and allow the Republic that we have given our lives for to collapse and be taken over by traitors, whoever they may be. We shall refit, we shall re-arm and we shall find others who choose to say no! We are members of the Republic Navy, and we shall not surrender or give up so easily, we shall fight until we can fight no more. Return to your duties in confidence that the people behind this will pay, we will make sure of it.”

There were no rampant cheers, or spontaneous applause, too much had happened in too short a space of time. But backbone had been stilled, confidence that had been wavering has been strengthened. The Spear of Anaxes would go forth into battle again.

 

[Abendrot]

[div class=mainCon][div class=contentWrap][div class=scrollWrap][div class=textWrap]It happened on Tar Morden.

A simple mission. Not an easy mission, no. This is war, and nothing about it is easy. But some things are simpler than others. The natives don’t see them any differently than they see the Separatists. She is not surprised. War is a cruel beast, and those who lie outside of the conflict are often the most afflicted victims of the violence they did nothing to invite. Derrick doesn't quite understand, not fully. Part of Ilenya hopes the boy never will. But it’s a naïve hope. She knows it is. Her Padawan will not come out of this war unscathed, no matter how much she might wish him to.

There are moments, though, when she can think about something else. Moments where there is no fighting, no battlefields filled with fire and blood and death. Quiet moments. Happy moments. Moments filled with laughter that have become far too rare in this day and age. She hides a smile as she watches Derrick exchange jokes with Driver. Yes, those moments were rare. But that made them infinitely more precious.

Behind her, the door to the war center slides open. Joker, her second in command, entered. Tall and lean with a square face, he had his red-marked helmet tucked under his arm as he wiped the sweat from his brow. "Anything to report, Captain?" she asks

Joker saluted. "Ma'am, we've made a major breakthrough. The northern border of the city has been breached, and most of the enemy forces have retreated to the inner city."

"Very good," Ilenya responded, considering the next move. She opened her mouth to continue, but then it hits her.

The wave slams into her, stealing the breath from her lungs. Death. Death everywhere. There’s so much. Three years of war across the galaxy and Ilenya has never in her life felt anything like this. The Force screams in agony at her at her. She sees flashes – Jedi falling, dying. And their troops are the ones shooting them.

"Master!" Derrick shouted, hurrying to her side as she fell, eyes brimming with concern. She was shaking, and in a moment, so would he.

"It will be done, my lord." Joker was saying, his expression tight and his voice monotone. She surges to her feet, lightsaber in hand before she even realizes it. Her hand snatches Derrick and drags him behind her. A jet of blue light streaks towards her and hits her in the back of her shoulder. Ilenya cries out in pain, eyes flying wide as she registers Joker's blaster trained on her. A second bolt follows in a heartbeat, but she throws herself and her Padawan to the side, behind a computer terminal. It explodes in a shower of sparks.

"Joker!" she yells "Stand down! That's an order!"

“Good soldiers follow orders,” she hears him mumble. Not just him, but the ones around him too. For a moment, she sees it all in slow motion. All of the clones in the war room, their blasters aimed at her, helmets obscuring their faces.

“What are you doing?!” she screams.

They don't answer; instead, they rain blaster bolts down on her.

"Derrick, run! I'll be right behind you!"

Derrick runs. Her heart aches, but she shoves it aside. Ilenya embraces the Force, giving herself to its light. She surrenders all her emotions, her anger, her fear, until it seemed that she floated in tranquility. From then on, she barely registered what she was doing. Instinct, or rather the Force, had taken over. Her lightsaber is ignited in her hand, deflecting the bolts haphazardly at the walls, at the computers, at the clones. The clones are spreading out, trying to surround her, and she rushes to the door, slashing through a trooper that tries to cut her off. He topples to the ground and she sprints into the corridor, past hallway after hallway, and they follow, ignoring her cries to stop, firing and firing and trying to kill her.

But why? Why, why now?

She pulled out her comlink, trying to contact the other Jedi on the planet. "Master Tandar! Master S'Jet! Do you copy? This is Ilenya Meressi!"

Silence.

“Master S'Jet, please respond! My troops have turned on me and I need help!”

Silence.

An awful thought begins to form, but Ilenya throws it aside. No, it's not possible. All the clones wouldn't turn on the Jedi; it couldn't happen. And then a worse thought: But what if it could?

We wouldn't stand a chance.

She has to get off this planet. If all the clones have turned against her, there's nowhere she can hide. If she can get to her starfighter and make it offworld... But they'll send fighters after her. And if she makes it to hyperspace, then what? Hide? Wait for rescue? No one answered her transmission. And if all the clones really have turned on the Jedi Order...

Ilenya pulls out her comlink again, thumbing it on, opening it to all frequencies. "Emergency Code 913.” Her voice trembles. “This is Jedi Master Ilenya Meressi. The clone troopers of the 308th Battalion have turned on me. Requesting immediate assistance.”

Silence.

"This is Ilenya Meressi of the Jedi Order. If anyone can hear me, please respond."

Silence

She reaches over the bond, trying to contact her Padawan, but finds emptiness in his place.

"Please... Please help me..." she mutters into her com.

Her whisper echoes into emptiness.
[/div][/div][/div][div class=rightBanner][div class=mainPic][/div][div class=quote]There is no emotion, there is peace.
There is no ignorance, there is knowledge.
There is no passion, there is serenity.
There is no chaos, there is harmony.
There is no death, there is the Force.[/div][div class=tagBox]ILENYA MERESSI
Jedi Master
Interacting: N/A
Tags: N/A[/div][/div][/div]

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[RikuXIII]

"Keep me covered." Syana Terai whispered as she pulled out her data pad and plugged into a data port.
The Clone Troopers of the Mynocks spread out in the control room, setting up for if the mission went south. Flex set up his with his shoulder mounted rotary cannon on the main door, backed by Wesley and Xed. Solid, who had been injured taking out a droid before it could alert the rest of the Separatist Droid Control Ship, was being looked over by Bonesaw. Duke and Pip were planing their exit, leaving Revs to plug into the computer systems to slice into the internal sensors to mask the team's presence and to keep track of what the clankers were doing.
Syana's face tightened as she tried to slice through the ships firewalls. If this worked, she could upload a virus and spread it to the other droid control ships before they knew what hit them, crippling the Droid Army on Mygeeto. With a disabled enemy, Master Ki-Adi-Mundi and his Marines would be able to finally push the separatists off Mygeeto.
"Uh." Pip said in the silence. "I'm getting a message."
"Your comm's active?" Revs said, anger evident in his voice. "I've told you before, Pip, they can track-"
"But it's from the chancellor." The younger Clone said, pulling out a holo comm.
Syana didn't pay this much attention, still focused on her task. But a wave of loss and shock washed over her through the Force. She had felt this before, when her Master died, but this was different, like an echo made up of many voices. She felt in her core that something terrible was happening. She was jolted out of her trance by Rev's shouting "no". She turned around to see him up in the way and block a volley of blaster fire from Wesley, Duke, and Xad. Acting on instinct, the young Jedi lashed out with the Force, sending out a repulsion wave out from her. The close quarters ensured that the clones were knocked against the walls behind them.
With a moment's reprieve, Syana called her Lightsaber pike to her, igniting the blade and the electro head at the other end. Heeding the Force's warnings and the dread building within her, she attacked her former friends without mercy. Flex tried to bring his cannon to bear, but was quickly cut down. Only Solid had the martial training and equipment to face a Jedi in melee, but his earlier injury gave Syana the advantage she needed for a quick victory.
Shortly, Syana stood among the dead clones, her blue lightsaber blade casting haunting shadows with their corpses. One of them started moving, and was nearly beheaded before Syana released it was Revs.
"Revs!" She cried, turning off and dropping her weapon.
She dropped down on her knees to help the man who was more than a comrade to her up. She pulled off his helmet and tried to reach out through the Force to feel how he was doing.
"I need you to talk to me, Revs." She said urgently. "What are your injuries? What happened to the others? Why-"
Syana was cut off by a blaster in her face. Revs' hand was trembling, but stead enough to ensure death if he pulled the trigger.
"Can't...stop it, Angel..." the Clone Commando wheezed, veins bulging on his neck and face as he tried to fight against the programming. "Can't...let it happen."
In what felt like slow motion for Syana, Revs turned the blaster pistol on himself and pulled the trigger. She sat in shock as tears poured down her face. It was also too much to take in. The feeling of death through the Force, the loss of her friends, and now this. The man she loved was gone. Part of her shut down, unable to handle it all. This left her cold, logical side in control. It knew that she had to move and fast. Scooping up her weapon and Rev's helmet, Syana ran for her ship. Right now, survival was the only goal.