Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos
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Populate A Change is Gonna Come | THR Populate of Iphigin
- Thread starter Pillar of Fortitude
- Start date
Dominique Vexx
High Republic Chancellor
Anet Raine
was the first to speak. And while she supported Dominique's declaration, the woman suggested it might not be enough. Strictly speaking, the Charter was opposed to factions that favored Total War, but the realities were they were one Republic in a vast galaxy. If they had an idealist as Chancellor perhaps they'd wage such pervasive and unending war on the galaxy. They, instead, had her. A woman that set an objective with the intent to meet it. One way or the other. So, while her sentiment wasn't wrong, Dominique wasn't so quickly swept up in the motion that would double the number of fronts to the war.
Ilsoon Jul
was next. He seemed concerned about Anet's fervor as well. Though Dominique found the use of the word 'impossible' perturbing, his question was not out of bounds or wrong. Of course, she wasn't going to broadcast the strategy to the galaxy -- including the Sith -- but that didn't mean the good Senator had to remain blind or ignorant to the Republic's actions.
Sae
registered a formal request to speak after that. Kenari. Evidently they were still working through certain formalities, which left Sae in a bit of a lurch. Dominique would take the request under advisement; though she suspected a private meeting might be better given the topic last time and her recent broadcast.Meanwhile,
Vaerelyn Thorne
beseeched the Chancellor to clarify what she asked of them. The idea of including 'all' Sith raised questions, and questions gave form to doubts or concerns. Namely, whether this was a war to defend themselves, or a mission to hunt down and exterminate all corrupted by the Dark? Like Ilsoon, her question was expected under the circumstances.
Verity Stuyveris
, on the other hand, was not at all concerned where Dominique's intentions might lay. Then again, Verity had been in closer physical and political proximity to Dominique than many other Senators. She knew more about how the Chancellor thought and what she would do. Fewer uncertainties remain. And given Verity's history, it was no surprise she supported the declaration to war against the Sith. More importantly, she took a step further to let the worlds know how they could contribute -- in whatever manner they were suited.Then Verity did something Dominique had not expected, but would -- if passed -- significantly bolster efficiency of the effort. If there was one thing Dominique favored it was efficiency or productivity. That it was her or all people -- not Aurelian or Sarn (as gently coaxed by Sibylla) -- made it all the more unexpected. Verity was a very strong believer in the Senate's authority. Not rabidly so that the two of them hadn't managed to strike understandings, fortunately, but guarded against the Chancellor becoming a Dictator free to act however they will.
Such consideration only preceded more as Verity than went on to address the desire to know the Republic's stategy in public. Nonetheless, Dominique would need to give them a reply.
"Senator Thorne," Dominique called out to
Vaerelyn Thorne
, "your diligence to ensuring this Republic does not over extend itself is commendable. To put it plainly, I am asking that the High Republic Declare War on the Sith Order and the Sith Covenant for their indisputable roles and actions on the worlds of New Cov, Moorja, and Thyferra. Should any other organization join in this Axis of Evil, this Republic must be prepared to respond to such naked aggression as well. We shall not be hampered by a changing of name, creed, or banner. We shall know our enemies by their deeds, and respond accordingly." Dominique wanted to say 'in kind,' but the High Republic was still the High Republic. "And let me be clear, this Republic will wage war only until the threat is eliminated. We cannot -- we shall not -- spread our fleet across the face of the galaxy in the hopes of 'wiping out' all Sith. This is a War to ensure our way of life. To protect our homes! We will be what we must because we've been given no other alternative but servitude and death." Anet might find that disheartening, but nothing said the scope couldn't change later. She should lose heart. Madness could still follow. Dominique had no desire to fall into that bottomless pit, of course.
Eharl Sarn
followed up Verity's address with a reminder the Republic had not been idle. The Ithorian could at times be a bit absent minded, but when focused and given time to reflect he was sharp as a vibroblade. The people often questioned what it was the politicians did -- especially in light of losig a planet -- and it was times like these it helped for someone to remind them of what they had done. All the resources and credits spent hadn't been to line their own pockets, as some believed. (Though, admittedly, some lining would have occurred... perhaps only the Mandalorians could claim not a single person might have 'bumped up' the numbers a bit somehow.)
Jaun Smyth
was next, and someone with a vested interest in these discussions. If there were a voice that could make or break this moment it would be that of the man that represented Thyferra. Dominique could have reached out to him before hand, but they might seem opportunistic. People might find out they'd spoken and then the raw, authentic passion would be called into question. It seemed resemble where he would stand even without speaking, but it had been a risk. Thankfully, the Senator of Manaan now had no desire for history to repeat itself.
Ilsoon Jul
then abstained as to the matter of the Emergency Powers. A polite way of saying no. The man was open to working together, but for whatever reason did not see the need for such power. Dominique glanced away and back again as Ilsoon seemed to have more to say...The Chamber was built with the purpose of harnassing sound. It was made so that the Senators of many worlds could hear one another. Yes, an audio pick-up and transmitter was used to broadcast (and even translate) in real-time, but if that were all they could have enjoyed sitting in their representive offices on one, giant holo-call. There was a personal element present in being able to hear their actual voice despite the intervening distance. There was a theatrical quality to how one's pod moved and gestures made toward (or away from) certain parties.
So, when an explosion went off it was no small thing. One could hear it wherever they stood or sat in the Chamber. Dominique's head jerked away from the eruption and her eyes narrowed slightly from the concussive force that washed over her. It wasn't a large explosion, but reactions weren't always proportional to objective realities. The Chancellor quickly recovered to press a control on her console to unlock the specific, emergency response doors held by security forces and medical alike. One didn't need to anticipate a bomb to be ready for... well, anything. The Senate had a history of being set upon, after all.
"Senators, remain seated!" Dominique called out to the rest of the chamber. "Do not hamper medical and security forces' progress." She wanted to tell them to be calm because they weren't in danger, but then people would ask how she knew. Well, she knew because the Senate had been swept for bombs and it was sealed. Which meant someone in there with them was a threat. Of course, that someone hadn't the luxury of hauling in countless explosives on their person. "Remain calm. Allow them to do their duties." Sadly, a microcosm of the greater threat they faced as a community.
Security forces rushed toward the smoldering ruin. They begrudgingly allowed emergency response to put out the fire with their extinguishers -- it was a type of contamination of a crime scene, and who wanted that? But the Senator's life (or any other in that pod) were the priority. Medical personnel stood by, their eyes searched the wreckage for signs of bodies to move the second the fires were out and security stopped warning them about being 'careful.' Secondary explosives or unexploded ordinance was a thing. True, but time was not in their favor and they had a job to do.
Meanwhile,
Ephram Pryce
had gotten there just ahead of the extinguishers. One of the guards moved over toward the man calling, "Senator. Senator, I need you to back away. Make room for the medics."Dominique took a step to the left and looked down at the floor of the Senate below. Why Ilsoon? Was it an effort to cast doubt on Dominique since he wasn't as eager to join in supporting the declaration -- or the emergency powers? Why Cato Neimoidia again? It was easy to assume it was the Sith that had done it, but the timing and opportunity... Too much remain unknown. She would need to trust in the investigative efforts of those below.
After a moment the Chancellor centered herself on the platform once more. "Gentlemen. Ladies. Sentients. Please take this moment to send your hopes and prayers for Senator Jul's well-being as our emergency response personnel see to the scene of the crime and tend to the Senator." Repulsors didn't simply explode by accident. Dominique's voice was reflective and deep rather than loud and animated as earlier, "These are grave and perilous times for us all. Many of our civil minded brothers and sisters will be faced with such in the coming days, or weeks. We should never forget the cost our choice here carries; nor that we do this not out of convenience or spite, but strict necessity. This Republic has been given no other choice. We now must do what we now must. To prevent calamities like what has just occurred from happening again. To once again know it is safe to go where you will and live how you like without suffering an Agent of the Sith's acts of terror."
She bowed her head for a moment.
When it rose, she looked out at the assembled Senators, "You are not alone. We will do everything in our power to bring you peace and security."
War, Yes (4):
Anet Raine
|
Verity Stuyveris
|
Eharl Sarn
|
Jaun Smyth
War, Pending:
Ilsoon Jul
|
Vaerelyn Thorne
|
Ephram Pryce
War, No (0): n/a
Monitoring:
Sae
Emergency Powers, Yes (3):
Verity Stuyveris
|
Eharl Sarn
|
Anet Raine
Emergency Powers, Abstain (1):
Ilsoon Jul
Emergency Powers, No (0): n/a
Political Animal
Wizened senators were crying. Someone's aide was screaming in a panic attack.
Jaun stared, mouth half-open, at the smoldering wreckage of the Cato Neimodian's pod. He clutched a hand to his chest, as if completely overcome by what had just occurred.
Slowly, Jaun turned to one of his aides, who looked near a catatonic state. No that one would not do. Jaun turned to another Selkath, a veteran before he became an aid with his blue-gray skin battle scarred.
"Mobula."
The Selkath looked at him. "Senator?"
"Reach out to our security contact. Please save all footage of what just occurred."
Turning back to the broader happenings, the Chancellor seemed to have calmed things down somewhat, but Jaun activated the speaking comms on his pod.
"Chancellor, are we safe to remain here? What if the Sith have planted more bombs?"
Jaun said the words as if a foregone conclusion. Obviously, this was an attack by the Sith. Who else?
Dominique Vexx
Senator of Enarc
Theed City | Naboo
Items: x
Ilsoon Jul
Dominique Vexx
Jaun Smyth
Anet Raine
Verity Stuyveris
Ephram Pryce
Vaerelyn Thorne
Sae
Chaos erupted quickly. A stern furrow deepened on the Ithorian's brow, his amber eyestalks sweeping the Senate pod area as medical personnel and security alike moved to get a handle on the situation.
A gruff snort followed suit.
With as much as security had been bulked up since the Black Sun's consistent demands to attack the Senate itself and assassinate Senators as well as kidnap the previous High Chancellor Kalantha, security had been strengthened a hundredfold within the chamber. Body scans, amped up security, additional droid and clone guards, and additional panic and safety rooms were enhanced and reinforced to protect not only the Senators and their staff, but others as well. That's why Force detectors were implemented, with customizations put in place to detect any use or manipulation of the Force, because Thyferra had taught them well that even at a distance, the Sith could attack and sway with that mystical tool.
Which meant that either this was some highly skilled plot against Senator Jul, or some sort of inside job.
When the High Chancellor called for order and calm while medics and security did their work, Senator Sarn gave a curt nod in agreement.
This was only an example on why a decicive hand had to be produced. Shocking perhaps, to see the results of such terror in light of the Bacta Riots, but the Senator of Enarc had survived six different attacks to the Senate from Mandalorians and Black Sun alike.
And while he was not one to take arms in hand, he was more than willing to fight for the Republic one way or another if called to do so.
His own pod had activated the security features and protective shielding, while his aides and staff went to work to try and gather what information they could.
In the meantime, his attention was to ensure that no such attack would come to fall upon the other Senators much less the High Chancellor herself.
Fiona Tierney
No Matter The Cost
"You're right."
Fiona chuckled, Carrick had some humor in him.
Getting back to business, she agreed with his assessment of having to separate two acklays in order to have a decent chance. Even then both were going to be in a great deal of danger. Having never worked with the man before, it could be a tricky situation. There was going to have to be a level of trust but Carrick didn't seem the type to let her be completely eaten by an overgrown insect.
Binoculars put away, they began the trek into the valley, focusing on moving southwest.
"What's the difference between a mercenary and a missionary?" The redhead paused a beat. "Not much, we both introduce people to the afterlife."
She had her own jokes after all.
Ephram Pryce
Senator to Loronar
To say he was shaken up was an understatement.
Ephram had kneeled next to Senator Jul trying to assist before the medical team arrived, but even in his limited experience the situation looked dire. As he backed away and allowed the team to do their work, his gaze drifted to the space around the now deceased Senator, examining the pod. Screams echoed throughout the chamber, commotion of sentients trying to scramble either out or check on those next to their pods.
Numbly he wiped his bloody hands off on his trousers, the fabric now ruined. Ephram lived an easy life, first in law and now in politics. War had never touched his door and certainly not death. While not close to Senator Jul, he had seen the Neimodian around. It was the loss of a sense of protection he had come to expect inside the Senate.
Making his way back to his pod, Ephram immediately got ahold of his Both assistant.
"Open an investigation immediately. Start working with security forces, time is of the essence."
Dominique Vexx
|
Sae
|
Verity Stuyveris
|
Eharl Sarn
|
Jaun Smyth
|
Vaerelyn Thorne
|
Anet Raine
|
Ilsoon JulImmaculate
Objective: BRATAWANS
Rathir
Jackson Lesan
Chiassa
- OPENA single golden brow lofted at Jackson. She recognized Chiassa from when the bacta riots happened on Naboo. That girl knew how to throw a punch. She didn't recognize the other one, though.
"I'll have to show you where the good ration packs are," she murmured. "Stop slouching. It's bad for your back." Looking down at her datapad, a slow soft smile spread upon her lips. "At least we finally get my dream mission. Shopping."
She beamed, thinking of that day with Cerys when, who was now one of her closest friends at the Sanctuary, showed her the markets of Theed. Street markets and thrift shops. Where she'd tried chocolate covered fruit for the first time. Her absolute favorite.
Her list contained the majority of the medical supplies, though, bacta was on everyone's list. Soph had added a few things as well. Some herbs and things she knew would be good as back-ups. In case they didn't find bacta or a bacta equivalent. There were always other resources out there - if one knew enough how to use them. That reminded her, she'd have to ask Isar if he had a lead on anything.
A pause and wary look at that skull. Once again, Soph found herself impressed with what Chiassa knew. Smart. And curiosity was good. Something...was it Rathir? Something he wasn't in any danger of running out of. Shifting the empty stachel slung over one of her slender shoulders, she fell in line with the others, veering off toward an older Neti who had curled mossy hair. Dark, ancient bark as skin and a spark of cleverness in her ancient eyes. And jars and jars of herbs and poultices.
"Bingo," Soph breathed and stepped forward, critical eye peering at the labels.
Corpo Queen
CORPOS
Vira wore a fashionable high-collared turtleneck tucked into a long black designer skirt. Boutique shoes. Her signet ring and a classy golden bracelet. The shirt was a necessity. She still had tracings of the bruises from those thugs on Naboo that had tried to 'off her' for not signing a questionable deal. Ah, the price of good business these days.
Datapad remained on the table. The program taking notes as the meeting went on. Another window, watching and confirming for trades. Another window for Tycho's calendar. She knew how particular her golden boss could be.
"Between Mister Irogane's company and a few of my own resources, we are more than capable to handle any shipping needs for your idea, Mister Dashiell. Or, as Miss Ordon indicated, funding stream are certainly available." Amber eyes settld on the young, semi-aquatic man.
Tycho Irogane
•
Makai Dashiell
•
Makai Dashiell
Claudius
•
Lodd Grimmin
Vɪᴄᴇʀᴏʏ ᴏꜰ ᴀ Tʀᴀᴅᴇ Eᴍᴘɪʀᴇ
Lodd glanced down at his datapad as an encrypted message came through from his contact on Naboo, the assassination of Senator
Ilsoon Jul
had went as planned with no evidence linking back to him about the double cross. Grace Command had failed to gain traction and that was enough for the Neimoidian to retire the Duros permanently from the field of play to avoid his deluge production lines from being investigated.
He dismissed the file with a quick swipe of this thumb, as the conversation seemed to pivot from Kolto production to custom colognes and Tetan tailors. Lodd rubbed his eyes, letting his hand rest against his face for a brief second as he pulled up the meeting's agenda on his screen, scanning the lines of text just to confirm he hadn't misread it.
There was nothing on the document about fashion or sea moss. Still he remained silent to watch the interaction play out. The vanity in the room was tedious but it gave him a clear view of who he was dealing with.
Nerys Ordon
at least had the sense to pull the discussion back to actual numbers, asking the basic questions about capital machinery and investment terms.
Before
Makai Dashiell
could answer, Lodd was running the numbers in his head. Relying entirely on Manaan for Kolto was the exact same mistake the galaxy had made with Thyferra and bacta. If a single planet held total control over a critical medical resource, it was only a matter of time before the galactic powers moved in to choke the supply line.
"We can't rely on Manaan itself for kolto production," Lodd explained with a gesture before continuing. "We have all seen what happens when the galaxy depends on a single world for such a strategic resource. If the Sith target Manaan, our entire strategy crumbles overnight." He didn't want to mention the fact that Lord Carnifex would give the Federation ample warning ahead of time so they could pull their investment. It was always necessary to have friends in high places when you wanted to continue doing business in the galaxy.
"If the Trade Federation backs this venture, twelve percent of the total kolto production must be refined and manufactured off-world in Federation-controlled facilities. That spreads the risk, keeps the processing lines open during localized conflicts, and gives us direct oversight over the output." Lodd leaned back slightly into his mechno-chair.
Ilsoon Jul
had went as planned with no evidence linking back to him about the double cross. Grace Command had failed to gain traction and that was enough for the Neimoidian to retire the Duros permanently from the field of play to avoid his deluge production lines from being investigated. He dismissed the file with a quick swipe of this thumb, as the conversation seemed to pivot from Kolto production to custom colognes and Tetan tailors. Lodd rubbed his eyes, letting his hand rest against his face for a brief second as he pulled up the meeting's agenda on his screen, scanning the lines of text just to confirm he hadn't misread it.
There was nothing on the document about fashion or sea moss. Still he remained silent to watch the interaction play out. The vanity in the room was tedious but it gave him a clear view of who he was dealing with.
Nerys Ordon
at least had the sense to pull the discussion back to actual numbers, asking the basic questions about capital machinery and investment terms. Before
Makai Dashiell
could answer, Lodd was running the numbers in his head. Relying entirely on Manaan for Kolto was the exact same mistake the galaxy had made with Thyferra and bacta. If a single planet held total control over a critical medical resource, it was only a matter of time before the galactic powers moved in to choke the supply line. "We can't rely on Manaan itself for kolto production," Lodd explained with a gesture before continuing. "We have all seen what happens when the galaxy depends on a single world for such a strategic resource. If the Sith target Manaan, our entire strategy crumbles overnight." He didn't want to mention the fact that Lord Carnifex would give the Federation ample warning ahead of time so they could pull their investment. It was always necessary to have friends in high places when you wanted to continue doing business in the galaxy.
"If the Trade Federation backs this venture, twelve percent of the total kolto production must be refined and manufactured off-world in Federation-controlled facilities. That spreads the risk, keeps the processing lines open during localized conflicts, and gives us direct oversight over the output." Lodd leaned back slightly into his mechno-chair.
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Courtesan
XANDYR
Fiona Tierney
The descent was steep and Xandyr picked his way down with a careful, unhurried gait. The grass grew taller as they descended, wet blades dragging against his boots. By the time they reached the valley floor the herd was not visible above the canopy of reeds. The signs of their passing were.
He glanced sideways at her joke and let the silence hold for exactly three of his own strides.
"That is terrible," he said, and the corner of his mouth betrayed him. "I liked it."
The valley floor was softer ground than the hillside. Dark mud, thick with decaying grass, swallowed at their boots with each step. He could see the tracks more clearly now. The herd had fanned out, four distinct sets of prints splitting from the main trail. One had broken away to the west, cutting toward a line of standing water that glinted between the reeds.
"There." He indicated the split with a tilt of his head, not wanting to carry his voice across the flat ground. "An adult. Full-grown."
He stopped walking and turned to face her properly. This was the part where the companion put away the pleasantries and the bodyguard looked at the situation with cold arithmetic.
"This is more like an urban shootout now. Whoever spots the other first probably wins. Also I've got a similar one: how are missionaries and companions the same? They both bring people closer to the heavens but one does it with better lighting."
▶︎ •၊၊||၊|။||||။၊|•
This is my resting destruction face.
VENDAXA
UNDISCLOSED LOCATION
-
Michael – Team Leader
Gabriel - Tech/XO,
Raguel - Infiltration/CQB,
Raphael - Heavy Weapons,
Jeremiel - Corpsman,
Connel/Ariel - CQB/Explosives,
Sariel - Sniper,
Vigilant Reaper - Gunship
-
Rides
Gear/Armor
- Gear(“Bodycam” Datapad, UAD Drone, link to Seraphim AI included)
- Lightblaster
- Shortsabers (“Night” and “Day”)
- 5 Throwing Lightknives
- 3 Force Blinding Flashbangs
- RI-17 Rifle-w-MS-0412 Grenade Launcher
- Repli Implants that would be for the limbs
- Bonemer enhancements to strengthen structure of the body
- Muscle enhancements.
- Hemo enhancements for blood flow
- Hawkeye implants for eyes
- Advanced Medical Implant
- Scentzy
- Injected Nanotech upgrades
- Shadow Sanctuary - Enterprise
The first indication that something unusual was happening outside the High Republic Senate was the growing crowd staring upward. The second was the Jedi Master standing in the middle of a burning pyre.
It had begun as a memorial observance on the Senate plaza—one of several erected for those lost on Thyferra. Names had been inscribed upon thin pieces of pale wood and arranged beneath a ceremonial brazier whose flames were meant to consume them one by one, carrying the remembrances upward on the smoke. Unfortunately, someone had built the thing with considerably more sentiment than engineering.
One of the supports had collapsed. Burning timber spilled across the upper platform, trapping several unburned memorial tablets beneath it and sending a section of the monument leaning dangerously toward the gathered civilians. Connel Vanagor had elected to address the problem in the most direct way available.
He stood atop the half-collapsed structure with fire rolling around his boots.
One hand remained extended toward the leaning monument, holding several hundred kilograms of carved stone in place through the Force. With the other, he reached down through the flames and pulled the remaining memorial tablets free, one at a time. Below him, a Senate security officer stared upward with the pained expression of someone who had already completed the necessary incident report in his head. [COLOR]Master Vanagor.[/COLOR]
Connel tossed another wooden tablet safely clear of the fire. Almost finished.
There are fire-suppression droids on the way.
They were on the way three minutes ago.
You are standing on a funeral pyre.
Connel looked down at the flames surrounding his boots as if only now becoming aware of them. Ceremonial memorial brazier.
The officer’s expression did not change. It is on fire.
That is generally how braziers work.
Someone in the crowd laughed. The security officer closed his eyes. Really?
Connel retrieved the final tablet and sent it floating gently into the waiting hands of an elderly woman below. Only then did he turn his full attention toward the fractured monument. The stone groaned. Connel lowered one shoulder, braced himself against absolutely nothing, and pulled.
The leaning structure slowly righted itself. Broken supports dragged across the platform beneath it until the weight settled upon the remaining foundation with a deep, grinding thud. A fire-suppression droid arrived several seconds later. It immediately sprayed Connel in the chest. White suppressant covered him from shoulder to waist. Silence fell across the plaza. Connel looked down at himself. Then at the droid. Your timing is impeccable.
His comm-link chirped.
Connel stepped down from the pyre as though he had merely descended a shallow staircase. Smoke curled from the bottoms of his trousers, and traces of white suppressant still clung to the front of his coat. He glanced at the caller identification. Michael. Not Michael Angellus. Captain Bren Alazar. Connel answered while the security officer hurried toward the damaged monument. Vanagor.
There was no greeting from the other end. No dry remark about Connel standing in places where reasonable people did not stand. No request for an update or warning that Omega Squad had somehow acquired another repair bill. Only Bren’s voice.
Low. Controlled. Urgent. I need you. Now.
Connel stopped.
The humor vanished from his face.
Around him, the memorial continued. Civilians recovered the fallen tablets. Security personnel began clearing the damaged platform. The fire-suppression droid rolled forward to assault the remaining flames with the same enthusiasm it had shown him. Connel heard none of it. Where?
Senate chamber.
A distant alarm began sounding from inside the government complex.
Connel turned toward the massive structure dominating the far side of the plaza. High above its entrance, security barriers were already descending. Emergency speeders banked between the towers, their lights washing blue and red across the polished stone. Smoke appeared behind one of the upper transparisteel galleries. What happened?
Explosion during the emergency session. Senatorial pod.
Connel was already moving. Casualties?
Unknown. Medical has the chamber.
Bren paused. In the background, Connel could hear voices shouting, boots striking hard flooring, and the unmistakable hydraulic impact of security doors locking into place. Senate Security requested immediate reinforcement. Omega is setting the outer perimeter.
That explained why Bren had called Omega. It did not explain why he had called Connel. And?
There was another short pause. Something’s wrong.
Connel crossed the plaza at a run. People moved aside when they saw him coming. Whether they recognized the Jedi Master or merely saw a very large man covered in smoke and fire suppressant moving with considerable purpose hardly mattered. Be specific.
The explosion came from Senator Jul’s pod. They’re calling it a repulsor failure.
You don’t believe them.
I believe they’re saying what the scene was meant to make them say.
That brought Connel to a halt for half a heartbeat. Then he accelerated. What did you see?
Main repulsor assembly is damaged but intact. The containment housing blew upward into the passenger compartment. Very little scoring beneath the mounting rail.
Connel cut between two parked speeders and vaulted a waist-high security partition rather than going around it. A Senate guard turned toward him. Sir, this entrance is being—
Connel held up his identification without slowing. The guard saw the name and stepped aside. A failed repulsor should vent along the power channel, Connel said into his comm-link.
Or lose containment and drop the pod,” Bren answered. It shouldn’t direct fragmentation into the occupants.
Shaped charge?
Maybe. I’m not touching it until you see it.
Good.
Bren knew how to dismantle explosives. More importantly, he knew when dismantling one could destroy the evidence needed to identify who had placed it. Connel entered the Senate complex as another series of internal barriers descended. Guards directed frightened aides away from the chamber while medical teams moved in the opposite direction. Every public display had been replaced with emergency instructions. He immediately threw his UAD Drone into the air and the small machine began a rapid ascent. A small screen opened up on his mask’s HUD as the drone rose above to and around the ceiling.
Has anyone left the chamber?
Not since we arrived. Senate Security sealed the primary exits. Omega has the surrounding corridors.
Keep weapons low. Senators are not enemy combatants.
I’m aware.
Some of them may find that disappointing.
A trace of the familiar Bren returned. You want me to let Raphael explain our complaints procedure?
Only if someone becomes unreasonable.
Define unreasonable.
Anyone who shoots first.
That definition lacks ambition. Connel reached the final security checkpoint. Beyond it stood Bren Alazar in full tactical armor, helmet secured beneath one arm. Omega Squad was visible only in fragments behind him: a shoulder disappearing around a corridor, the barrel of a rifle held toward the floor, Gabriel positioned at a security terminal with Senate personnel clustered around him.
They were not occupying the building.
They were sealing it. Bren’s gaze traveled over Connel’s smoke-stained clothing and the white suppressant covering the front of his coat. For precisely one second, the emergency disappeared from his expression. Do I want to know?
No.
Were you on fire?
Not appreciably.
Bren stared at him. Really?
Connel walked past him. Show me the scene.
The Senate chamber opened before them. Noise rolled through the immense space—medical instructions, security orders, frightened conversations, and the constant mechanical hum of senatorial pods being locked into emergency positions.
Smoke lingered beneath the vaulted ceiling. At the center of it all lay the ruined pod. Its passenger compartment had been peeled open. Jagged pieces of metal and composite material had scattered across the surrounding floor, but the lower repulsorlift assembly remained fixed to its mounting structure exactly as Bren had described.
Damaged.
Burned.
Still there. Connel stopped outside the security boundary. He did not approach the wreckage immediately. First, he looked at the room. At the emergency exits. At the overlooking galleries. At the security stations and maintenance access points. At the Senators still gathered inside the chamber.
Some were afraid. Others were angry. Several were already speaking urgently into private communications. A few watched the wreckage with expressions Connel could not yet identify. Then he looked at the political banners displayed above them. The High Republic had been debating war. Someone had detonated a Senator’s pod in the middle of that debate. Convenient, Connel said.
Bren stood beside him. That was my second thought.
What was your first?
Secondary device.
Connel nodded approvingly. Sweep?
Underway. Quietly. Nothing so far.
Good. Keep Omega outside the chamber. Assist Senate Security, preserve the exits, and make sure nobody overwrites a sensor record because the system suddenly decides it needs routine maintenance.
Gabriel is already copying everything.
Including blank feeds?
Especially blank feeds.
Connel finally approached the boundary.
He lowered himself into a crouch, studying the debris without crossing the marked line. The blast had blackened the upper housing, but the metal beneath it told a different story. The exterior plate had not been driven inward. It had been peeled outward from behind. Connel’s eyes narrowed behind the mask. Who identified the repulsor as the source?
First responding technician.
Where is he?
Bren looked across the chamber. That is the interesting part.
Connel turned his head. He isn’t here.
Bren shook his head. He left before the perimeter went up.
Connel rose slowly.
His attention returned to the ruined pod—and then moved beyond it, toward every individual who had been given time to hear the first explanation. Repulsor failure. A mechanical accident. Perhaps sabotage by the Sith, Mandos… some constituent with a grudge… a bunch of people in a chatroom that chat way too fast… who knows to be sure at the moment. A ready-made conclusion delivered before the fires were even extinguished. Find him, Connel said.
Already working on it.
No public alert. No accusation. I want to know where he goes when he thinks nobody is following him.
Bren replaced his helmet. And the chamber?
Connel looked upward at the smoke gathering beneath the Senate dome. The Force offered him no convenient confession. Only pain, fear, ambition—and beneath it all, something colder. Something deliberate. Omega holds the perimeter, he said. Senate Security keeps the peace.
He stepped beneath the boundary marker and entered the crime scene. I’ll find out who tried to start a war with one explosion.
[Any text in brackets signifies comm-link usage and not face to face conversation]
TAGS • ARE • OPEN
Personal Effects - Omega Squad Loadouts
Makai Dashiell
Mining Idiot
CORPORATE ALLIANCE
Wearing | Gear : X | X | X | X | X | L3-37 | Interacting With :
Lodd Grimmin
|
Nerys Ordon
|
Vira Halor
|
Tycho Irogane
Lodd Grimmin was the only one who understood the purpose of bringing them all together, it was clear. The pair did not work together often but it appeared they at least thought upon similar veins. One could say what they wished about the Trade Federation, but their business acumen was impeccable.
Lodd Grimmin
|
Nerys Ordon
|
Vira Halor
|
Tycho Irogane
Thoughts bounced around in his head of cutting out the other miners and pairing with Grimmin. He had been expecting a little more enthusiasm but perhaps he had judged wrong. Always the trouble when making new corporate friends, it was difficult to tell intention. More research should have been done to gauge their work ethic and business drive a little better. That was on him.
With one kolto farm under his belt now in the Corporate Sector, Makai would be expanding from there. Yet it would be under the Dashiell banner - nothing involving outside forces. It was how his family did business, if one wanted to have any sort of say joining the family was the only option. Didn't mean he didn't cultivate relationships with other businesses, but all decisions remained with a select few.
"You invest in your own kolto farms. We leverage the Trade Federation's contacts in the Senate to use our kolto only. We repay the Federation, as Mister Grimmin mentioned, with a percentage. I've already invested in refining facilities but in order to take this deal, I would be conceding twelve percent of product."
Not a bad deal, Makai had been expecting a higher percent. That may come with distribution and influence.
"Think about it and get back to me."
Nerys Ordon
black widow
WAYWARD
Tag:
Sophelia Ardemark
|
Chiassa
|
Rathir
|
Kuhbee
Jackson caught the raised brow from Sophelia before she even said anything and immediately knew something was coming.
Then she told him to stop slouching.
His shoulders straightened almost on reflex, though the look he gave her made it abundantly clear he had done so under protest. “You know, most people wait until at least the second date before they start criticizing my posture.”
The corner of his mouth pulled upward when she declared that they had finally been given her dream mission. That earned a quiet snort as he pushed the repulsor cart farther into the market. “Shopping. Right. I knew there had to be a reason you volunteered.” He glanced sideways at her datapad. “Just remember we’re supposed to come back with supplies, not an entirely new wardrobe.”
Chiassa’s enthusiasm made it difficult not to grin. Jackson had not spent much time around the younger Padawan before this, but she had thrown herself into the assignment with enough energy for several people. He had barely finished giving everyone directions before she was already talking about sweets and following Rathir toward the stalls.
“See? She understands priorities,” Jackson called after them when Chiassa agreed with his suggestion about finding something better than ration paste.
He kept moving for another few steps before noticing that Rathir had stopped.
Jackson followed his line of sight toward the skull hanging above the stall, then looked up at the thing himself. It was large enough that he suddenly understood why every briefing about Vendaxa seemed to include some version of do not wander off alone. Chiassa identified it before he could even begin guessing.
Acklay.
Jackson looked from the skull to Chiassa, then toward Rathir. “So that’s encouraging.”
He moved closer, tilting his head as he studied the elongated remains hanging above them. Seeing something in a holobook was one thing. Standing underneath its skull and realizing the living version might still be wandering around somewhere outside the settlement was another.
“Maybe we should add ‘don’t become one of those’ to the mission objectives.”
At least Rathir eventually remembered why they were standing there. Jackson waited while the Firrerreo handed over the list, then glanced toward the vendor as they began looking it over. The response was not particularly promising. Several of the food items were available, along with power cells and a handful of the replacement components they needed. Medical supplies were another matter.
Bacta earned an immediate shake of the vendor’s head.
Jackson’s expression flattened.
“None?”
The vendor explained that what little had come through recently had already been purchased or reserved. Another shipment was expected eventually, but nobody seemed willing to put a date on eventually anymore.
Thyferra again.
Jackson exhaled through his nose and looked down at his datapad. He had known finding bacta would be difficult. Hearing it confirmed still made the shortage feel more real. “All right. We’ll take what you have from the rest of the list. If you hear about bacta coming through before we leave, find one of us.”
He stepped aside to let Rathir finish dealing with the vendor and looked around for Sophelia.
She had already found something.
Of course she had.
Jackson spotted her near a stall lined with jars, bundles of dried plants and enough unfamiliar herbs to make him wonder how many of them were medicine and how many would kill someone if prepared incorrectly. The Neti behind the stall looked like she had been there longer than half the buildings around her.
He guided the cart in that direction and stopped beside Soph.
“Bingo?” he repeated, leaning just enough to look at the labels she was studying before remembering her earlier complaint and deliberately straightening his back. He gave her a sidelong glance to make sure she noticed.
The supplies were unfamiliar to him, but he knew enough about Sophelia to know she had not stopped because something smelled nice. Her list had carried most of the medical supplies from the start.
“They’re already out of bacta over there,” Jackson said, nodding toward Rathir’s stall. His humor softened slightly as he looked over the jars. “Tell me you found something useful.”
He shifted the datapad into one hand and started checking items off as the others gathered what they could. Food was available. Power cells looked promising. Replacement equipment would take some bargaining, but they could probably manage it without emptying the credit account.
Medical supplies were going to be the problem.
Jackson glanced back toward Rathir and Chiassa. Between Rathir’s curiosity and Chiassa’s apparent ability to identify dangerous creatures from their bones, leaving those two near a stall covered in exotic merchandise for too long seemed like a good way to return with an acklay skull and none of the things they had actually been sent to buy.
“Rathir,” Jackson called, raising the datapad slightly. “Get prices on everything they have from the list before that skull convinces the little one to spend our food credits.”
His attention shifted to Chiassa, and the grin returned. “Chee, help him keep us honest. If we come back with a giant skull instead of dinner, I’m telling the Masters it was both of you.”
Jackson turned back toward Soph and the Neti’s collection.
“And you,” he said, lowering his voice a little as he gestured toward the herbs, “apparently get to save us from bleeding to death on a planet full of giant monsters.”
The smile stayed, but his eyes moved back across the shelves with considerably more interest now.
“Show me what we need?”
Vɪᴄᴇʀᴏʏ ᴏꜰ ᴀ Tʀᴀᴅᴇ Eᴍᴘɪʀᴇ
Lodd listened to
Nerys Ordon
questions with casual disinterest but wrote them down on his datapad for future reference. Whatever she personally thought of Neimoidians or the Trade Federation's reputation was completely irrelevant to the business at hand surrounding kolto and its uses to the High Republic. Powers had risen and collapsed across the galaxy over the centuries, yet the Federation was still standing while other smaller firms had faded into the background and that should be testament enough.
Still he made it seem like the doubts unnerved him, changing his slim expression to a frown before leaning forward on the table to address her questions directly in a straightforward manner as to not waste anyone's time. "Twelve percent guarantees off-world refining capacity, immediate access to our private network of hyperspace routes and shipping lanes, and heavy escort clearance through restricted corridors. Not to mention the extensive up-front capital provided from our treasury to cover the entire operation" Lodd explained, leveraging his company's extensive network of trading routes to their advantage. They could move Kolto as much as they wanted throughout the Republic without fear of Sith disruption given his neutrality in war. He paused, letting his red eyes settle on Nerys for a moment as he addressed her demand to restrict sales strictly to the High Republic.
"As for assurances about where your kolto gets sold, the Federation fulfills the contracts our partners sign. If your specific field agreement stipulates Republic-only distribution, our manifests will reflect that." Lodd leaned back into his mechno-chair, tapping his clawed fingers once against his stomach. "Though if you are so concerned about the optics and reputation, we can easily cut Citadel out of the arrangement entirely. That simply leaves more profits and production share on the table for the rest of us." He gestured towards the rest of the conference, who would likely not object to the idea of additional profits if one of the partners got cold feet. He would let her make the final decision as to weather or not they would contribute to the venture, as
Makai Dashiell
was fully willing to allow the Federation to operate as it wanted.
Nerys Ordon
questions with casual disinterest but wrote them down on his datapad for future reference. Whatever she personally thought of Neimoidians or the Trade Federation's reputation was completely irrelevant to the business at hand surrounding kolto and its uses to the High Republic. Powers had risen and collapsed across the galaxy over the centuries, yet the Federation was still standing while other smaller firms had faded into the background and that should be testament enough.Still he made it seem like the doubts unnerved him, changing his slim expression to a frown before leaning forward on the table to address her questions directly in a straightforward manner as to not waste anyone's time. "Twelve percent guarantees off-world refining capacity, immediate access to our private network of hyperspace routes and shipping lanes, and heavy escort clearance through restricted corridors. Not to mention the extensive up-front capital provided from our treasury to cover the entire operation" Lodd explained, leveraging his company's extensive network of trading routes to their advantage. They could move Kolto as much as they wanted throughout the Republic without fear of Sith disruption given his neutrality in war. He paused, letting his red eyes settle on Nerys for a moment as he addressed her demand to restrict sales strictly to the High Republic.
"As for assurances about where your kolto gets sold, the Federation fulfills the contracts our partners sign. If your specific field agreement stipulates Republic-only distribution, our manifests will reflect that." Lodd leaned back into his mechno-chair, tapping his clawed fingers once against his stomach. "Though if you are so concerned about the optics and reputation, we can easily cut Citadel out of the arrangement entirely. That simply leaves more profits and production share on the table for the rest of us." He gestured towards the rest of the conference, who would likely not object to the idea of additional profits if one of the partners got cold feet. He would let her make the final decision as to weather or not they would contribute to the venture, as
Makai Dashiell
was fully willing to allow the Federation to operate as it wanted.
Nerys Ordon
black widow
Golden
CORPORATE ALLIANCE
Tycho mentally noted the fragrance Makai Dashiell mentioned. He could not believe the Galan had such a good nose.
The investor adjusted his stiff collar with a finger, wearing a toothless smile that cultivated the idea of affability, but never went subdermal.
The back and forth went on for a moment, with Tycho merely listening. He glanced at Vira Halor, a slight frown creasing his brow at her attire. No. That wouldn't do. If he frowned this much it would wrinkle.
Best to maintain an expression of nothing at all.
Standing while Ms. Halor spoke for him, Tycho Irogane moved behind her chair and stood staring out a window, facing away from the other occupants of the room. His hands clasped behind his back while the cogs of his mind clicked away.
Then the Trade Federation began to play hardball.
Nerys began speaking about getting cut out. A profoundly poor idea. She resembled a bladed weapon: dangerous and beautiful. And if they spurned her, well.... everyone had heard the rumors of what happened to those who spurned Nerys.
"No," Tycho replied without turning around. "This Corporate Alliance will not begin with us cutting each other out of deals."
Not yet anyway.
"This opportunity is one with a right of first refusal. Citadel has superheavy industrial deep crust mining capabilities and expertise that is highly specialized and presents a unique opportunity. This is not to say Mr. Dashiell could not do it with his corporation, only that we can harness maximum output of the deepsea vents with both of them combined."
Tycho still had not turned around yet.
"Lodd wishes twelve percent to be refined at facilities he controls as a failsafe," Tycho finally turned around, "In exchange, we get priority shipping."
If Lodd lost cargo in transit to, for instance, Sith pirates... then the insurance companies would have to battle it out, but most likely the Trade Federation would be footing the bill due to their secure hauling guarantees.
"However, while I agree Manaan should not be a single point of failure, neither should the Trade Federation. I propose you handle the majority of the shipping, but we use separate vendors for the remainder."
Nerys Ordon
Lodd Grimmin
Claudius
Makai Dashiell
Vira Halor
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Genteel Umbaran
IPHIGIN - TRADE TOWER CENTER
CORPORATE ALLIANCE
Attn:
Makai Dashiell
Tycho Irogane
Nerys Ordon
Vira Halor
Lodd Grimmin
CORPORATE ALLIANCE
Attn:
Makai Dashiell
Tycho Irogane
Nerys Ordon
Vira Halor
Lodd Grimmin
Claudius was present at the table; quiet but attentive. Then Nerys mentioned moralizing which was, of course, a favorite activity of his. And Lodd was talking about optics and reputation which, while tertiary and secondary (respectively) to moralizing, were also of keen interest to him.
"We would all be greatly impoverished for want of your society, Duchess, so I cannot say I share the Viceroy's zeal for expelling partners."
What he had really wanted to say was more along the lines of "no, don't go, marry and kill me next", but the iron laws of etiquette which bound the highest castes of Umbaran society did not allow for that kind of enthusiasm. Actually, so did most other iron laws of etiquette. So what he ended up saying would suffice. And then Tycho had similar sentiments, so it was all well and taken care of.
Now it was Claudius' turn to mesh his hands.
"But, mm... I'll moralize, also, if it's all the same." A light smile struggled briefly to be born along his features, only to die tragically in its infancy. "If so much as a single drop of kolto produced between us snuck its way out of the country, it would be tantamount to high treason. Given the present existential need for it, I consider it hardly any more conscionable than exporting bacta directly out of local stockpiles."
"We should all take great pains to ensure that doesn't happen, then, as befits us conscientious citizens. Establishing an inter-company mechanism for oversight - robust tracking and inspection of all kolto freighting - would be ideal. Particularly if we would like to pursue preferential treatment from the Senate."
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