Dominion A Swoop For A Kingdom | Grayson Imperium Dominion of Vulpter |

[Placeholder 0128]

Objectives

1. Assist the Imperator in wooing the Vulptereen leadership while they watch the race.

2. Sign on as a racer for the Imperium. The winner will receive prestige, the cash prize, and will secure Vulpter for the Imperium.

3. A small faction of Vulptereen nationalists has been tracked by the bureau of intelligence. Several of their members have been noted in the stands, and there is high risk for some form of attack. Imperium agents are expected to assess the situation, and deal with any erratic elements should they come to light before the public takes note. Killing any nationalist Vulptereens in public will likely mark them out as a martyr - your choices have great weight

4. BYOO




Vulpter was not a pleasant world. Choked in ashes, junk, and the remnants of the Galactic Empire's waste, the planet had been transformed from its once idyllic floral ecosystem into a toxic wasteland. The native Vulptereens didn't seem to mind all that much. Their bodies had adjusted to the climate, and it was said that most Vulptereens were not intelligent enough to understand that tragedy that their waste had brought upon their homeworld. The decision to bring their world and its nearby systems under the banner of the Imperium had been a long considered one. As ugly a world Vulpter was, its resources would go a long way in helping to fund the reconstruction of the core, and the myriad of corporations the Vulptereens somehow managed to keep running would add more credits to the struggling economy.

In the end, the decision to approach the Vulptereens had been an easy one. They weren't a particularly argumentative race, and their membership within the Imperium could only prove to be beneficial.

The initial meetings with the corporate overlords of the planet had been promising. Initially it seemed they were perfectly intent on joining the Imperium, keen on dealing with its large population and the cushy seat their membership would provide with the InterGalactic Banking Clan. That was, of course, until President Grumb of Viper Sensor Intelligence Systems suggested the Imperium prove itself. Cedric asked what he meant by that, and the entire conference room had erupted into hooting and howling.

There was to be a race. Pilots from the Imperium would compete in a twenty-four man race across the wastelands of Vulpter on pod-racers and swoops. Cedric had quickly declined volunteering himself, and now stood in a high rise suite that overlooked the opening portions of the track. The lone human in the room, Cedric felt himself almost a giant when compared to the Vultereens.

"It's gorgeous, innit?" Grumb asked as he took up a position alongside the Jedi Master. Cedric lofted a brow as he gazed out into the mass of garbage, toxic sewage, and the purple clouds of poison drifted outside. "Sure is president," he forced a smile. "Sure is."

 

[Leon Gallo]

Leon was a man of many talents. He could easily get on and off Corusant, where a new order had formed. He stayed there mainly because the rent was cheap and he didn't have anywhere else to really go. He'd been bored for weeks, with almost nothing fun to do. Finally, an opportunity presented itself. He made his way to Vulpter, and signed on for the race. He counted himself for the Imperium, as he was technically a citizen of theirs. He procured his own swoop bike, which he spent the greater part of a week preparing to his standards. Leon spent the rest of the time training on the bike.


Race day came quickly. Leon disliked the choking haze that covered Vulpter, but he had grown used to it. His bike was lined up, and the roaring crowds could be heard in the distance. Leon took a deep breath, and looked around at his opponents.

 

[Dak]

V U L P T E R
Objective: 3 – Locate & Eliminate the Vulptereen Nationalists
Location: Lower Stands, Near the Starting Line.
Notable Equipment: BR-212 Jackal, VB-113 Tidefall, VT-Bulwark Shield

---

Tags: P Placeholder 0128 ​

An unfortunate planet, Dak thought to himself, leaned against a wall at an entrance to the stands. This world's tragic transformation into the wasteland before him was another reminder of the grim ways the Galaxy had changed. Vulpter was a uniquely close-to-home example however, having never recovered from the very same devastation that brought an end to the life Dak had known centuries ago. The Galactic Empire. In moments like this the droid couldn't help but feel dissonance in the passage of time; even now, centuries later, the ripple of consequence existed.

Despite this, Dak admired the perseverance of these people. They had clearly done well adapting to the changes they'd faced. Or, perhaps the rumours of their inability to recognize the calamity they had faced was true. It didn't really matter as far as the droid was concerned. One way or the other, they had survived and flourished in apparent good spirit. He had always been told by organics that one's well-being outweighed their accomplishments and material wealth, afterall.

With the Lord-Imperator here to win the support of the Vulptereen people, it was only natural for Dak to tag along. He had found more freedom lately, an inexplicable desire he never had before. This newfound curiosity had stolen much of his time, limiting that which had previously gone to acting as a personal guardian of Cedric's – a role with a diminishing need back on Coruscant as the assets of the Imperium grew. But here things were different.

Operatives of the Ministry of Intelligence had intercepted transmissions indicating a local group of nationalist's intent to cause violence during the event. Not wanting to give off an aggressive impression to the locals or fuel their, the Imperium had opted against dispatching security forces. Instead, operatives had been placed within the crowd and surrounding area to surveil and be prepared to act if necessary.

"<I've taken a position at the entrance, Master Cedric,>" he informs over his integrated comlink, shifting his eyes among a group as they pass him. Dak wasn't exactly inconspicuous, but if anything he'd hoped his presence might deter action or distract long enough for one of their proper agent to intercept "<I will report anything suspicious>"

 

[Cataline Holt]

If this is what most other planets looked like, Cataline was not hopeful in anyone's future in the galaxy. The third planet she had ever been too in her relatively short life, it would naturally be a stinky, polluted, trashed place. Podracing was a big thing, it seemed. Probably anything to not seem like they're all miserable.

But, they surprised her. Probably because they weren't the... Brightest. Cat had read on her way to the planet that it used to be a beautiful planet. It was unfortunate, but in some ways Coruscant was similar. It wasn't junky, though, at least most of the levels. They also didn't have a huge billboard that hanged in space, which Cataline highly disliked.

Nonetheless, she had came to meet with the humanitarian groups of the planet. How could the Imperium help? How could Vulpter help the other planets within the Imperium? The best minds, at least of their respective fields, had came together. And Cataline left... Unimpressed. No real focus on a cleanup, decaying and cities being deserted seemed fine.

But they seemed willing to bite into the general scheme of things, so it was productive and it would make annexation easier. They had them on their side. But, when a holocall came in and practically said they would dedice their fate based on who wins a podrace, Cataline was very unimpressed.

And so she was escorted to P Placeholder 0128 . The room seemed to overlook the race down below, and the room was filled with the the Vulptereens. Cataline walked to stand beside him, "Lord-Imperator, it is good to see you again," she said quietly as she gave a small curtsy in a black dress. A smile was given to the President after she realized who he was, "President Grump."

Dak | Leon Gallo

 

[Jegy Sesara]

Objective III
Filter Out Nationalists
​

"I am not kidding! I actually owned a pod racer when I was younger. I fixed it up with my own bare hands!"

​

The Sullustan was growing a bit of a crowd in the corner, almost sounding like an older pod racer as a few of the children had somewhat gathered around him, sitting in almost awe as he sat on a stool with a bit of Ale in his hand. Somehow he had drank enough to loosen his lips on an old tale when he was an Inquistor, having brought back pieces of a Pod Racer to reassemble by hand. Though in true Tusken fashion of old, he would recount the story truthfully and honestly though he omitted bits of his past to at least the children. A few adults crowded to, Vulptereens being rather small for a species made the Sullustan feel more confident to, generally being shorter than everyone else.

"Ah yes...I found it in pieces during a raid against the Rorgungans. Gungans were these large eared people, generally very polite and not violent. But these...Rorgungans migrated towards the moon known as Rori, calling themselves...Rorgungans. with the two mashed together. Anyway, we had to fight literally through one of their hunting grounds, blaster shots raining all over the place then myself, still young in my prime, charging forward with a rifle. Each time one of them came up, I raised my rifle like this and then hit them on the head. BONK! Then came another one...BONK! Then another! BONK!"

​

He would raise his arms up when making those sounds, it was ridiculous as he held nothing though playfully looked like to bonk one of the children as they laughed with a few adults knowing the other meaning. He did not want to say out loud that he had killed them so he made it sound nonviolent, for the truth was much worse. As the Sullustan laughed a little, seeming to enjoy himself, he kept going on the story.

"So, after many shots...and BONKS later. We emerge victorious over the evil Rorgungans and made the moon safe for fishing! Now, here was the interesting part. We go near the back and there are all these nice swoop bikes. We are talking turbos, advanced gliding technology to sail over cliffs and weapons on them that would curl your toes! But in the corner, there it was, in pieces! A G.P.E Three One Three Zero Pod Racer! How did I know? Easy, ever seen engines this big before?"

Taking out his datapad, it would almost look ancient in design as it had many symbols over it. After a few moments flicking through a folder, he would activate it as there was a projection of a photo coming out of the datapad that showed a few soldiers in grayish green armor leaning on the pod racer. On top of the Pod Racers cockpit, sat the Sullustan with a smirk and his rifle over his shoulder. The story was real as a few people would lean in as the people in armor probably would not be recognized at all, being of old Galactic Empire armor around his time. As the images were projected, the Sullustan would dart his eyes around a bit seriously, looking around for any adults that seem to be...out of it, looking for signs like the old days. Looking quickly back down, he smiled as he would flip to another image that someone took of the Sullustan upside down in one of the two engine turbines.

"Well after some convincing from me and the boys, we got that sucker pulled into base and we began to work on it! By me and the boys...I mean me since they got to busy. Getting manuals, I poured myself into it and began to test all the components. What you are seeing is the right engine turbine as it was jammed up...so naturally I climbed into it and got stuck."

He would swipe to another holoprojection photo as it would show three people. Two of them were a human and a bothan attempting to pull the Sullustan out of his predicament as his clothing was hung on something. People were laughing as the Sullustan rolled his eyes as he pointed at people in the picture as there was also a human on the floor, holding his stomach.

"Poor guys had to pull me out...except my Commander. He is on the floor, laughing his head off seeing me getting stuck. You know what was the worst part?"

Flicking to another set of images, then the Bothan was in the engine turbine to as people roared in laughter as now the Sullustan and the Human were trying to pull them out with a female human looking to the side. Her hand covered her face in a facepalm, in robes as the human male on the floor from earlier was now leaning on the turbine, his fist balled and hitting the side of it.

"After they got me out, my pal got stuck in there leaning backwards on it! I tell you, nothing was going right on this project and it kept happening. I lost tools in this thing, I shocked myself trying to turn it on and yes to those mechanics nodding in the back, the engines kept blowing the wrong way. How that works, I don't know but putting new vents made them work. Anyway, after months of working on this...we got it working!"

Swiping to the next picture, it showed the Sullustan in the most ridiculous outfit, having goggles, a weird flight hat as he looked ready to go through an old style air fight with an open cockpit. He even had a scarf as they chuckled a bit in the background but he was leaning on now a powered on, working GPE-1310. It even had video this time, showing the Sullustan giving a thumbs up as he climbed onto it, testing the controls as it actually moved.

"It was the greatest feeling of my life. I drove swoop bikes but a pod racer? Yeah, it was the thrill of a life time! Taking it out, doing circles in it, speeding off through the swamps of Rori. It was incredible!...Then I crashed."

The next picture showed the pod racer in ruins as there was a loud groan through the crowd. Sullustan was not in view this time, apparently having to be the one who held the datapad this time. The GPE-1310 had ran itself straight into a small hillside as it apparently did not redirect correctly and clipped the bottom of the oversized engines, destroying them into pieces with the cockpit laying on top of the hillside unharmed.

"A thrill of a lifetime...for two minutes. I broke it in two minutes! Stop laughing! This was awful! I drove it for two minutes and because it was not calibrated right, I crashed into a hill but thankfully was unharmed. I had to walk ten minutes back to base as the other guys wanted to try it out...and had to tell them where it crashed. They were so mad but to be fair, I was the one who fixed it and after a week...we found our new use for those busted up engines."

The next picture would show up on the holopad as it showed two Humans, the Sullustan, the Bothan along with a Twi'lek sitting in what appeared to be part of the engine compartment. The adults started to laugh a bit as the kids were confused as Jegy had to say it out loud while he was looking around hard now, finishing this story.

"We turned it into an over sized couch. Not just one...two of them since I broke it that bad. On the bright side, the cockpit to this day, is still at that base packed in the back in a garage with a very simple label by my boss. "Don't even think about it." Alright all of you little ones, go on now! Race has to start sometime, unless you want me to crash one of your favorite racers pods!"

At that moment, to his credit he thought ahead, he pulled out the actual silly goggles and scarf he actually wore that day as the kids laughed with the adults looking astonished. Putting them on, the kids ran off, trying to prevent the Sullustan from racing one of their favorite racers pods, heeding his warning! Giving a long chuckle to himself, he scanned the crowd as they dispersed as he noticed one of them walking carefully back towards a restricted area. Getting up, he would shake one of the Vulptereens hands and walk slowly behind the other Vulptereen whom was wearing an unusual blue outfit. Following very far behind, he would wrap his scarf a bit more around his head to conceal his race, having apparently done this before.

 

[Collector]

Objective IV
Interacting with: Atlas Kane and others?​

---

Ah, Vulpter. Not exactly a prime vacation destination. It was a shame what pollution had done to the forests of old. A world of promise, now reduced to a land of decay, with a side of sport. A shame, but that was how things worked, no? And the Collector had seen the coming and going of such worlds time and time again, though whether the memories were his own or simply absorbed through other means was a question of its own.

Such potential, such waste. ​

The box office hadn't been there before, at least not in recent memory. And it went unnoticed, for the most part, the masses walking by without a second thought paid toward the tinted windows. For the chosen few, however, this box office was a shining beacon of curiosity. Should one open those doors, only then would they see past the mundane image the outside presented itself as. And those doors were never locked, for their protection lie in enchants of perception, kept in place by the will of both the owner and perhaps the force itself.

Inside the box office was a world of color. Walls painted a pale lilac, lit by candles though caught in a smokey haze as incense burned in a couple places throughout the room. Seated amongst a small collection of pillows, a cup in one hand and a teapot resting at the coffee table in front of him, was the horned owner of this box office, a lazy smirk upon his face. "Ah, I was wondering who the day might bring in. Come, sit. Have a drink, I have a feeling we'll have plenty to discuss."

 

[Alyson Halle]

This world was beyond filthy. This sort of horrid pollution was the exact reason she had ordered all industry be done in orbit on Merides, in swarms of orbital stations. It kept the world itself pristine and breathable. The air on this planet was so foul, she needed to wear a respirator. She has not grown up in these horrid conditions and her lungs were not adapted to it. Not even Balmorra was this foul.

She found it all the more amusing that this was a planet of sentient pigs. The planet was about as well kept as a pigsty. She could barely see 20 yards through the smog, though she supposed that made the pod racing all the more exciting. For her, she could see just fine, the force provided her all the vision she needed.

She had elected to accompany P Placeholder 0128 on his escapades with the Vulptereen elite, she was well versed in the ways of nobility, and she knew the hard way that even in democracies the elite were often not much better. She hated it but it was her duty, to both protect her liege and to deal with this sort of realpolitik. She looked outside, staring at the foul land below them, standing behind her Imperator.

"If you were an industrialist, I suppose you would find this quite beautiful." She said, her voice amplified through the respirator as to actually be audible.

The new arrival of Cataline Holt was expected, she had sensed her coming down the hall. Though she was rather well dressed. Moreso than Alyson could let herself be. The respirator would ruin any formal attire anyway.

"Welcome to the show." Alyson said.

 

[Placeholder 0128]

"It's Grumb," the Vultereen politician spoke through gritted teeth. Given the coiled body language he now expressed, it seemed that being called 'President Grump' might have been a regular occurence, and not something he appreciated. Cedric fought the natural urge to grimace, instead offering an easy smile and a calm voice.

"Forgive Miss Holt, she meant nothing by it, I assure you. You've been nothing but gracious to us." Which was certainly a lie. The Vulptereens as a people had proven themselves to be uncouth, unorganized, and generally unpleasant to be around. Personal feelings were irrelevant here, however. A mutual partnership would be beneficial to both groups.

"And yes," Grumb whirled on Alyson, "It sure is gorgeous, just like you miss..." he let the question hang there, a stubby little hand outstretched to the much taller human woman. Rather than wait for Alyson to take his hand, Grumb swiftly took hers, and planted his lips upon the Meridian Empress' palm.

The race would start soon. Cedric was welcome of the distraction.

Dak reached out over comms. Cedric stepped aside, a hand rising to his ear as he keyed his own comm. "Appreciated. Keep comms with Jegy Sesara , he's doing some recon off in the stands. Might need your assistance."

Alyson Halle , Cataline Holt

 

[Cataline Holt]

Cataline's cheeks turned a bright red. And her eyes widened at the realization of her mistake. It was Grumb, not Grump. Really, she should have just stayed on Coruscant. Where she wouldn't make embarrassing mistakes on a mission to integrate a new planet and system into the Imperium. Like calling the President the wrong name. "Deepest apologies," she said, agreeing with P Placeholder 0128 .

A small bow of respect...

And like that, she slowly skittered away to a bar of sorts. Maybe if she just got pure alcohol, it'd be drinkable and wouldn't kill her with whatever poison that probably had contaminated the entire planet.

Cat gave a small nod to Alyson Halle , "Looks like it'll be fun." Fun wasn't quite the word she would put on it, but it was what she was going with considering her earlier blunder. An order for a drink, and she found herself holding a glass as she stared out the glass towards the track below. She wasn't quite brave enough to drink it, at least not yet.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Objective: Two - Race
Racing with: Leon Gallo
Shared proximity: Dak
Other allies: Cataline Holt / Jegy Sesara / P Placeholder 0128 / Collector / Alyson Halle
Listening to​

Two dozen entrants were lined up at the start. Attendees jogged in and out of proximity to their pilot’s vehicles, making adjustments here and there until satisfied.

The sight wasn’t unfamiliar. Blue Sato - her racing alias -had been behind several start lines. Tatooine, Ahto City, Metellos -- they’d all been behind a starting line at one point. There were only a handful of differences she was contending with behind this line. One: The length of the track. Swoop Races tended to be finite, and typically solo racing with an emphasis on the vehicle and time versus combative racing (save for Metellos, it seemed the Core Worlds had a bloodlust). Two: She’d never pod raced. Three: She’d never done a race as a force sensitive. Four: She’d never raced on someone’s behest.

If it wasn’t one target on her back, it was another. Blue Sato had a reputation. It didn’t help that all entrants were projected on a rotating screen with their aliases, statistics, and associated sponsors. Apparently racing was how things were settled on Vulpter. Those that were riding under the eagle’s crest were already behind the proverbial eight ball.

“You’re going to have to augment the sensory system with all these riders and....probably debris.” Loske mumbled, finalizing the twist in her hair and giving it a pat so it was as close to her head as possible and wouldn’t protrude from her helm. Frank seemed to make a noise of agreement. It was perhaps the only time the pair were so frequently amiable, was prior to any sort of adrenaline inducing activity that included thrusters.

This is a lot of traffic for a narrow start.

“The track doesn’t seem to widen out at all. Seems like more an elimination game than a race.”

Frank beeewoopp’d in agreement.

“That first curve is making it a requirement for someone to drop back or lose a Split.”

She squatted next to the pod of her racer, giving a firm push against a troublesome charger port.

"Trouble before the race, schutta?"

The port gave an indicative, satisfying click. She looked up, making a face. Typical trash talk.

"You looking for some, pateesa?"

The large-bellied competitor chuckled, only looking to seed some doubt in the offworlder's mind before wagging a warning finger at her and trundling off in the direction of his own pod. She only watched him leave partway. There were a few grunts and jeering calls from racer-to-racer, which she largely ignored while scaling the ladder with a practiced sort of ease and sliding into the seat of the pod. A few clicks and flicks of the controls, and her energy binder flared to life. Static pulses of purple exchanging between the parallel turbines ahead. There was a buoyancy to the craft that felt less controlled than a swoop or any other hovering vehicle she’d piloted.

Pulling her helmet over her head, she gave it a tap to activate the air filtration system that covered the mask. A recent addition once she learned the planet the race was hosted on -- had to do what one could to preserve the lungs. Bunkered and ready, she gave a glance about. Seemed someone else was doing the same, and she tapped two fingers to her forehead and outward in a mock salute in Leon Gallo ’s indicative direction.

This series of actions triggered Frank to roll backward, away from the area while other pitt crews also retreated. Most hunkered down in the distance, ready to leap up for the second lap. Frank made a non-discreet roll in the direction of another droid friend, Dak . Although the approach was lazy and cavalier (as much as one could be, as an astromech).

The screen that had been flashing competitor credentials quickly converted to a horizontal sprawl of three symbols, interchangeable with a countdown. The screen’s background was crimson at first, fading into an orange, amber, and finally a brilliant green.

FWOOSH. ​

 

[Dak]

Tags: P Placeholder 0128 Loske Treicolt Jegy Sesara
Others: Leon Gallo Alyson Halle Cataline Holt Collector ​

"<Noted>" Dak responds simply, scanning the stands from his position for any sign of the Sullustan Jedi. Sure enough, the gathering crowd would give away his position and Dak catches him in the midst of a grand gesture with his arms.

An interesting character, that Sullustan.

The faint rumble of approaching wheels steals Dak from his momentary interest in Jegy's curious body language. He's greeted by the familiar sight of Frank, the droid companion of one of the Lord-Imperator's closest allies.

"Your Master is in this race, yes?" he asks, looking down to the astromech once it gets closer. Having a Jedi among the racers could give them a significant edge, he hoped. "Well, if you're not occupied I could use the additional sensors."

Taking a knee in front of the smaller droid, Dak begins to vaguely fiddle with a few screws and bolts, trying to look a bit less suspicious while they spoke. In a quieter voice, he continues "Be vigilante. Watch the locals and alert me of anything suspicious."

 

[Leon Gallo]

As he waited, Leon looked over the the stats of his opponents. Most were semi- to highly accomplished races, a fact which intimidated the young man. He breathed slowly, calming his nerves. Another racer caught his eye, and she gave hime a quick aknowledgement. He nodded back, before turning his attention to the lights.

He checked his controls one more time and revved his engine as it turned to orange. He got ready to let up the pod's brakes as it hit amber, and then green.

At once, all two dozen racers roared past the starting line.



Loske Treicolt

 

[Alyson Halle]

She wanted vomit. The little pig creature was little over half her height and for some reason decided that it would be a wonderful idea to kiss her on the hand. This wasn't a metaphor either, she had the violent urge to vomit that could only be supressed using the force. The snout felt slimy like a dogs yet had various feelers which made the entire escapade just that much more uncomfortable.

Sadly, she had to suppress the feeling, she needed to be at peace lest she offend the leader of the planet. She purged her mind of emotions in order ground herself back in reality.

"Thank you Mr. President, I appreciate it." Alyson looked for any escape. "I believe the race is about to start. I believe we should watch the beginning of the race."

She would want to have a conversation with Cedric later about Hazard pay. The damage done to her dignity would be incalculable.

P Placeholder 0128 Cataline Holt

 

[Jegy Sesara]

The crowds would get more quiet as the Vulptereen he was following got into the pod racer area as the sound of electrical grinding be heard. One of the nearby Pods were being worked on last minute, someone trying to be smart by adding fins to make it more aero-dynamic. Watching with interest, he noticed the Vulptereen getting a bit close towards one of the mechanics as it pulled out some form of stun rod from behind him, trying to speak to him as the mechanic whom itself was also a Vulptereen, tried to brush him off.

Getting behind him, he would try to stab forward but at that point, he felt himself pulled back through the Force towards the shrouded Sullustan into a dark corner. The Vulptereen tried to swing the stun rod wildly at the Sullustan yet he grabbed it at the hilt and pulled it away, flicking it around to point directly at the feeler of the blue clothed Vulptereen. The sounds of the Pods starting up, the race seeming to start soon as he spoke just to where only the two can hear it, still concealed behind much darkness and machinery around them. To make sure of it, he would use the Force to roll over a rather large mechanical chest in front of them, covering them.

"Talk Nationalist. What were you up to?"

"You would love to know wouldn't you? I am not talking Jedi, I know my rights."

"Yes, I know your species has rights and a judicial system. But want to know a secret? I am not a Jedi...and I know ways to make someone like you talk."

Before he could even get another word out, he was jumped by another Vulptereen in a blue jumpsuit, screeching something about nationalist ideals though the sounds of the pod engines made it impossible to hear. Clung onto in the back, he jabbed the stun rod at the face of the Vulptereen as it screeched and fell off him yet the other one on the floor, tackled him down. Feeling his claws strike him over and over, he grabbed onto with one hand the feeler on its nose as it screeched in pain, the Sullustans left leg shooting straight up between his legs as it was a dirty move but better than dead. Striking hard, the Vulptereen winced and fell to the side, clutching in between his legs as the Sullustan got up and made a hard strike with his stun rod on the back of the Vulptereen, knocking him out.

Panting rather hard, he would fall backwards onto the wall as he felt rather old. Rubbing at the side of his face, the scarf protected a lot of the claws damage yet it was obvious he was bleeding a bit. Taking out his medical kit, he would get a few bacta patches and gently apply them on sections of his own face, activating his comn link as he tried to get into contact with Dak .

"This is Sesara, I got two in mechanics workshop area Four B. Knocked out, motive unknown still. Think you can get anyone for pick up? No public sighting yet."

 

[Atlas Kane]

Objective IV
Collector

It was curious. The door put up little resistance when he pushed, it gently swung inward, revealing a darkened room lit only by the swaying light of a candle. The few rays of light that reached the planet's surface illuminated the dust particles that began to be blown into the room from the polluted outside. To preserve the small sanctuary of breathable air Atlas quickly entered, closing the door behind him.

Even through the protective scarf that covered half his face the scent of fresh herbs and floral matter left a distinct impression of pleasantness. Though he should be on edge so close to hostile territory, something about this room caused him to relax his guard.

Though before he could get a better look around his attention was drawn to a pile of pillows further back in the room by an invitation. Partially obscured in the darkness there sat a singular individual behind a table.

"Gatalentan tea? I've read in ancient texts it's best appreciated when shared." he replied as he moved to take a seat.

He sat down cross-legged, soft pillows cushioning him from the cold floor. It was only appropriate to remove his gloves and scarf now that he sat opposite another person about to partake in tea.

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Objective II: Race
Racing with: Leon Gallo
In the Stands: Alyson Halle / Cataline Holt / P Placeholder 0128
In the pits: Jegy Sesara
Playing in the pod pit
​

The cacophonous ferocity of all the racer's engines was drowned out by her helmet's padding over her ears. Thank goodness. It was likely deafening, that many engines belching all at once.

Instantly the rows of mish-mashed vehicles thrust forward. Some repulsors having more power than others, and immediately creating a stagger in the otherwise uniformed flow of racers.

Already some racers were showing aggression, more focused on clearing the path to their right and left than advancing on what was in front of them. They swayed, knocking their bulbous slings against other, narrower engines. Electric sparks spattered and spiralled, and off to the left, about three pods over, someone's control linkage unclicked from the body of their pod. The cable that had meant to connect the ship to the primary fuel igniters wailed about madly, uncontrolled in its twists. The larger problem was the now rogue engines. It knocked against the hull of another's. Try as they may to veer, there simply wasn't room for that kind of control.

Something in her HUD flashed, and she reduced her own speed to allow for someone to attempt to veer rapidly toward her and escape the wild engine. Domino effect was more than likely here. The first stretch of the race was already being categorized as mere survival, less performance.

---

As Frank
Interacting with Dak
​

Please don't touch me. Frank stated indignantly and protruded a little mechanical extension as a shooing method from one of his flaps. His self preserving pride was more important than any sort of subtlety the other AI-driven machine had. For goodness sake, he was a former L138! A blank slate.

I'll assist, with split focus. I'm still coordinating any unforeseen race obstacles.

It seemed the legged-droid had received an incoming transmission. Frank rolled backward to give the droid space should he wish to move his legs and seek out his friend who was requesting assistance.

 

[Leon Gallo]

Leon quickly regretted signing on. Almost instantly, some racers were trying to cause others to crash, a few tried to just squeeze by. A couple pulled back to avoid the carnage. While Leon was thinking of which option would work best for his small pod racer, the pod next to his came uncoupled.


Leon swerved to avoid the flying engine, nearly colliding with another racer in the process. He swore as the stablized his speeder, and in a panic tried to push forward. Another, far larger, pod quickly began to gain on him, bumbping his engines.

The young racer pulled back, getting that he'd have a bad time if he stayed there. Instead, he began to drift towards the back, avoiding another rogue engine.



Loske Treicolt

 

[Dak]

Tags: Loske Treicolt Jegy Sesara P Placeholder 0128
Others: Leon Gallo Alyson Halle
Magic Tea Party?: Collector Atlas Kane
​

Ironically, Dak always felt some degree of disappointment when interacting with other droids. For the last few years in particularly he had found himself caught between two worlds; not quite relating to the illogical and emotional behaviors of organisms, but also feeling no comfort among calculated machines. Suffice to say; the simpleton astromech's reaction came as no surprise.

Before he can reply, the Jedi's voice interrupts him - albeit inaudibly - through the droid's integrated comlink. It seemed the reports from the Ministry were true. Standing back to his feet and glancing in the direction Jegy had been in before, he quickly confirms his absence.

"<Affirmative Sesara, standby>" he replies, turning back to regard Frank. "I need you to make radio contact with friendly forces and secure some form of inconspicuous transportation. Have them bring medical supplies." Dak looks back to the ledge overlooking the track trying to spot a way for him to sneak down unnoticed "Consider this urgent and cntact me directly if necessary. Encrypted channel only."

He hoped the droid would be capable of this at least.

"<Master>" Dak's voice returns over the Lord-Imperator's private communicator "<Sesara has encountered suspected nationalists in Workshop Area 4B. I am moving positions to reinforce him.>"

He glances across the rising stands as he makes his way to the railing, cautiously eyeing those who came to close or let their attention linger on him for too long. Anyone was suspect, but he knew realistically very few were likely to be an enemy. With the race now in full swing the crowd's attention was no longer on the starting line. Instead, they screamed and cheered while watching the racers from massive viewscreens. This made things easier.

As one of the pods shatters into a flaming wreckage from a collision with a loose engine, the crowd erupts into a frenzy of primal excitement. With that as his distraction Dak vaults over the railing and drops below, landing undetected with a surprising amount of grace for an entity of durasteel.

Workshop 4B, he glances side to side to keep tabs on the distant pit crews and takes a few steps to conceal himself behind a stack of fuel containers. He could easily see the garage entrances beneath the stands; sloped ramps leading down to separate workshops that each eventually connected to an underground complex.

"<Sesara, this is Dak. Confirm your location. I'm on my way.>"

 

[Placeholder 0128]

"And I appreciate that you appreciate it." President Grumb purred. He maintained a hold on the Jedi Master's grip for far longer than was necessary, before finally drawing away. "Oh, there they go!" Grumb shouted, and the Vulptereens within the room all erupted in agreat cheer. That roar spread throughout the crowds - it seemed the Vulptereens were more than a little enthused by races.

"I think he likes you," Cedric spoke in a low whisper to Alyson Halle . That was accompanied by an amused little smirk. "Maybe you can play it up. See if we can't assure they align with us even if we lose the race."

The racers were approaching a sharp bend in the track. Grumb seemed to note this as he stood a little striaghter, eyes narrowing into slits as he watched the pod and swoops soar through a canyon.

"Hey, girlie," he gestured toward Cataline Holt. "Only right a pretty young thing like yaself gets the honor of unleashing the whirlies." Grumb scooped a small remote out from his back pocket. There were a handful of buttons on it, and one colored in bright red. Grumb pointed to the red one. "Just, eh, push that there button and we'll be underway. Do it quick though, or it ain't mean nothin'."

Cedric's brow furrowed. "What's a whirlie?"

Grumb grinned. "A surprise!"

Loske Treicolt , Leon Gallo

 

[Loske Treicolt]

Objective II: Race
Racing with: Leon Gallo
In the stands: Cataline Holt / Future Mrs. Grumb Alyson Halle / P Placeholder 0128
Running amuck: Jegy Sesara / Dak
Somewhere: Collector / Atlas Kane
No Church in the Wild​

Then there were twenty-three.

And they hadn’t made it to the first bend yet.

Laws of motion would anticipate the racers that were navigating swoop bikes would be superior in speed and agility. Their sleek design (comparative to the average pod) making them far more nimble to weave in and out of the way of obtuse pod racers. Overall, there were about seven swoops interlacing betwixt the massive turbines of the pods. It was a level of velocity and control Loske was used to, and she felt a little handicapped in this weird semi-attached seat.

For the first few minutes, the swoops were predominantly successful. They easily careened past the clunkier, more volatile opposition.

Her HUD blinked again, red silhouettes flashing on either side of the display. Two of the sleeker pods, and a third more brutish one amped up their speed right before the first turn.

"Uh oh." she murmured, keeping her throttle tempered -- fully expecting to gauge the inertia of the polluted planet before breaking into full throttle to the next corner. Giving herself distance from the ominous red-silhouette-trio gave her the vantage to see the intention of their trajectory.

As the track began to curve, the brutish-sized racer, with incredibly reinforced X-Slicers, adjusted the propulsors to a western sweep. It was horrifying. The move forwent any opportunity for the racer to succeed, and instead focused on smearing out the swoop bike riders. With success. One swoop after another was caught up in the pressurized push of the X-Slicers, some even becoming woefully entangled in the electric bind between the turbines and spiralling out to either side of the track in a discombobulated remnant of the vehicle that had once been. Clunks of debris bounced along the dirt, and the riders were discarded with little care. Many of them being tossed beneath the onslaught of the unstoppable pods. The two other pods, that had been paired with the brutish one, closed in on the sides and zig-zagged back and forth to disorient the remaining three swoops that had made it out of the sweeping effect. It was enough to throw them off and only one got out of the bullying.

From her perspective, Loske found it abhorrent some could be so dedicated to the mutilation of other’s chances that the objective to win was not their own. Those three must be working with another racer. This track just became significantly more dangerous.

Seventeen racers left.

And they were only six minutes into the two-lap race.

---

Frank would have snorted if he could, but found it acceptable to oblige. He whirred away from Dak to the nearest communication port. It was a circular shape, with little divvets where he could infuse his own extension to interface with it. After a few rotations, eliminating the static, he managed to intercept a channel that seemed to route to the arena’s security.