Ashes (Dominion Dom of the Azure Hex)

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Contruum had been a battlefield once, though now it was little more than a mass of refugees and ruined cities.

Numerous battles had been fought over this world between the Republic and the One Sith in the recent past. Thought years had come and gone, the world itself retained the scars carved into it during a bloody and fruitless war. Contruum had bled for reasons many had forgotten at that point in the conflict; they only knew of their hatred toward one another. There had been little compassion left for the wayward world and its largely independent inhabitants.

The arrival of a Dominion fleet in the system had not gone unnoticed, though the delegation sent to Contruum was relatively light compared to that of the other worlds nearby. She was known to be a home of rebels and independents, but she had suffered terribly during the war. Membership within the senate was less a question of if and more a question of when.

That was all more or less irrelevant to Cedric. He had come to this world not as a politician, but as an agent of the Dominion as a whole. His vessel had settled down into one of the world's tropical cities that had been hit especially hard during the war. It was here that the Republic had maintained much of its data storage from its intelligence networks, and DSB had it on good word that these networks were still operating.

The only issue with this was the fact that the old Republic bunker had been occupied by a spice lord by the name of Vergin and his brood.

And so Cedric had come quietly, for his mission was one that could not be spoken of. Even his companions were ignorant as to the reasoning behind securing the old republic database, but then they really did not need to know.

Clad in a simple black T-shirt and a hat with CEC's logo emblazoned upon it, Cedric looked like any average citizen. His father's weapon was hidden away in his pants' pocket, and he still wore his utility belt for safety reasons.

The warm tropical air hit him like a brick wall as he strode down the gangplank of the ship they had procured.

"Eugh," his nose wrinkled in distaste, "It's so humid. Like a Hutt's fat folds." He turned to his two companions, [member="Shorarri"] and [member="Judas Foster"], and shook his head. "Welcome to Contruum."

 

[Marcus Itera]

Post: [01/20]

Having long since abandoned his leather jacket in exchange for a more professional white tank top and jeans, Marcus flexed absentmindedly in the sun. He was glad he'd checked the weather prior to landing, though was rather displeased that he couldn't show up in armor. Environmental systems were the bomb. Air conditioning, heating, you name it and Marcus had it. At least now he could really show off his guns. Aviator shades perched upon the bridge of his nose and an uncanny amount of hair gel saw his hair slicked back in that rogue-ish fashion he knew the ladies loved.

"You look gross. Put some clothes on." Miranda chided in his earpiece.

Snorting, he replied, "Nah, brah. Sun's out; guns out."

Had he been connected to his augmented reality relay, he was sure he could've seen that bashful grin the AI so sported.

Blaster pistol fit snugly in his pants against the small of his back, a few credits in his pocket, and some buddies by his side.

They were about to take on the galaxy.

[member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Shorarri]

[SIZE=11pt]Shorarri followed Cedric throughout the shuttle unsure as what to do. He had followed the youth around while he quietly contemplated when their next meal would be. However, unfortunately it seemed it would be a time before they next ate. So, Shorarri abandoned the youth to instead carve some of the works that had once made him famous on his home planet. In the midst of all the war and destruction that the dominion wrought Shorarri thought it important not to forget one’s self in the senseless killing that came with war. So, he made the carvings he so loved and knew his daughter would one day enjoy as well. Just as soon as he could free them, which he was to bring to the senate's attention as soon as he was back from his mission with the archlord. But, this mission remained as mysterious as the youth himself. Shorarri was frustrated that the archlord would take up his time, when he had such important task to attend to such as the freedom of his people. But, he quietly followed the youth knowing Owazza had things under control.[/SIZE]

[member="Marcus Itera"] [member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Alyson Halle]

The world of Velmor was a rather varied and interesting one, it was a a lush world, with plenty of grasslands and forests covering the world, it was a world rife with natural resources and rich in culture and history. However, one problem with its monarchic system, is that when someone thinks that THEY should be in charge and not whoever currently is, rebellion breaks out. The civil war had been going on for atlest two years now, it had been long and bloody and no side had come out as the clear victor. The two factions have called for arbitration by a third party, and the dominion stepped up. Alyson was the (un)lucky person sent to deal with this problem.

Alyson arrived in the system with the DNV Heavenly Spire. It floated into low orbit above the planet, if talks went bad the ship had enough forces to deal with the problem and made sure civilians could be evacuated from the ruined city, and moved to a safer location. Alyson hoped that the talks would go well. She left the Spire's hangar bay in a shuttlecraft destined for the palace, the location of the peace talks. With her was her droid [member="Cundi"] and her apprentice [member="Daclen Sint"]. Alyson had much to teach her apprentice on the matters of diplomacy, as well as the matters of war.

Security was at an all time high at the palace, as many of the rebel elements would love to get a strike at the king when he was at his weakest, it would be a disaster should he die, Dominion troops provided all of the security in order to ensure neutrality, with detachments of the leaders own security details. Security should hopefully be ensured.

"Daclan, diplomacy is often your greatest asset, use it wisely, and you can often end a conflict before it has even began, use logic, reason, and charisma to convince both sides to lay down arms and talk things out." She said as the shuttle landed, hopefully he would take this lesson to heart.

 

[Tschov Bolyn]

War-ravaged cities and despicable refugees made for a perfect area to remain hidden in plain sight. Plenty of people desperate for, well, anything. It was all too easy for someone to just disappear. Tschov capitalized on that, taking full advantage of the general disorganization such areas presented. Her initial goal had been assassination, the kill taken care of sooner than anticipated. Now, she was just enjoying the easy prey.

Oh no. She'd felt that presence before, remembered all to well what misfortune befell the unfortunate encounter. Tschov had praised her luck when she'd escaped that annoyingly powerful force sensitive on Ession. Now, she cursed her luck for catching sight of that karking fellow again. Don't you have some 'home' to protect or something?

[member="Shorarri"] [member="Marcus Itera"] [member="Cedric Grayson"]

 

[Darth Empyrean]

The Slave sat idly at an outside bar; an alchemic mask hiding his features in the most subtle of ways. His feet lay high on a table, boots tightly strapped to his legs as a brown, wide collared t shirt covered his torso. Humidity was all consuming, taking each of the group down a long road of sticky skin and uncomfortable sensations.

Sweat being the least of them.

With a cigarette rested in his lips, and a smile plastered on his face; he couldn’t help but enjoy the tropical climate. While Imperia had his clone serve as a figurehead hierophant of his word within Lorrd, he had the freedom to take random vacations to wherever he pleased; one of which involved this one. Well, it wasn’t entirely a vacation; he was here on business.

A certain man owed him and his friends some credits, and The Slave wasn’t a man to forget what money was owed to him.

But something out of the corner of his eye caught his attention, the casual walk of strangers and a face he couldn’t help but recognize. Scarred and grizzled, [member="Cedric Grayson"] and what seemed like bodyguards walked the streets like they wouldn't be noticed. Of course, no matter how undressed they were; everyone could tell they were military boys by the simple jump in their stride.

And so The Slave called out to them, thinking this might just be what he needed to find enjoyment;

“O’ Fellas! Mind a quick drink? You look awfully parched.”, he said, his tone a mixture of proud cockiness and undertones of sincere pleasantries.

He motioned to the table he had his feet on; a series of empty chairs around it.

 

[Jairdain]

Knight Jairdain had been selected to accompany [member="Alyson Halle"] on her mission to mediate between the two warring factions on Velmor. She was allowed to join on DNV Heavenly Spire and travel with them on the way there. She felt odd without her own small ship and this was the first time she had been on any sort of battle cruiser. Everything was run with precision and Jairdain had to admire that skill.

They arrived at Velmor and she waited with Alyson to board the shuttle down to conduct these peace talks. She had high hopes of being a diplomat when she matured and this should at least be a learning experience for her.

"Good morning, Empress Alyson."

Jairdain bowed to the woman as she listened to the wise words she offered to their companion.

"I think I might be lacking on the charisma, but have a level head and logic."

The shuttle landed and she waited to exit until the others did, deciding to not be in the lead. Without sight, she would be better able to sense the emotions of those they were going to be speaking to. There was a benefit to being blind, her other skills and senses were higher and could be used to their potential.

 

[Cundi]

Right then. Peace talks. Hooray.

The husk of a planet loomed underneath. Even from that altitude you could see the scars of war embedded on the surface; the gashes of burnt forests and maelstroms of swirling smoke torrents.

He looked at [member="Alyson Halle"] and stared at her with his best stare. "Before we go down there, let me make something clear; I am not your droid. I encourage you to cease calling me that. I'm staying with you because you rescued me."

Today was not a good day for him. He had to end his power-down cycle early, and God know how pissed he got. Never get between a droid and a power-down cycle, unless you want a computer interface arm shoved up your—

Calm, calm, he thought. Wouldn't want to go into peace talks that angry.

Bleh.

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Location: Contruum
Objective: Rebuild a spaceport
Post: 1/38

The devastation of Contruum was not unlike the devastation sustained in Primeval-land, even though there was no Primeval involvement on Contruum. it was more like Mindabaal, where other Sith factions perpetrated atrocities on an equally grand scale. But, without adequate spaceport infrastructure, any recovery, or refugee relief capability, would be limited at best. Also, since Contruum is in complete anarchy, no one would tell her how a spaceport shall be built, unlike Mirial, where only the intervention of the company called Czerka Mining and Industrial allowed them to respect the specifications of the Mirial government. Also, because Contruum is a lawless land, additional security teams were dispatched alongside the Tofolk of Hijarna. But, before they make landfall on Contruum, Dunames has yet another heated discussion with the board and especially the CFO, who seems less and less satisfied with the financial aspect of the operation.

"Are you sure you want to go through with it? The comptroller responsible for the Primeval region is reporting that expenditures are much higher than expected" the CFO asked, in a burst of anger.

"You may blame the Mirial government on that count: their specifications drove prices much higher than expected. On Contruum there are no such specifications, only the cost of clearing and recycling rubble: we brought the molecular furnace for such occasions, for making duracrete foundations and landing pads by-the-block"

 

[Tempest Yore]

Tempest arrived via her own private vessel. The last thing she ever wants is to rely on anyone else for transportation. Neither had she brought any passengers with her. She would have however, had anyone made the request of her.

The Jedi Knight sat at a rooftop café, a few businesses down from the street bar where [member="the slave"] and others gathered. She did enjoy overlooking the passersby. The wall flower, quiet and pensive, concentrated on shedding the Light of the Force over the people who travelled below. She hoped to help quell their innate fears of the current state of their society and questionable future. She spotted the Archlord [member="Cedric Grayson"] traveling on foot along the street below as well.

Jedi Knight Tempest Yore had been drawn to the Dominion through the Force. She immediately left on a personal mission with its leader, the Archlord. While she liked him very much and felt a relaxed attachment with him, she eventually determined her positive opinion of him to be swayed by his attractive and inclusive personality.

However, certain things the Archlord told her during their first meeting caused her alarm that he could possess too much power for the Jedi's comfort. For instance, he encouraged the formation of yet another new Jedi Council within the Dominion. It would be created by a most uncanon process, not one of lengthly meditation. His depiction of Battle Meld was another red flag for Tempest. The Archlord took a candid stance on using others to kill mass numbers of people, yet never struck down a single person, and so by his own words seemed emotionally unaffected by his deeds. She only held her suspicions as potentially true, rather than proven steadfast, and she shared them with no one.

For their first mission the Archlord had taken her on a quest to gain him even more power, his intent the first secret kept from her. Like the first mission, this mission today, Tempest sensed subsequent deep rooted deception. During their first excursion, to her dismay she secretly decided to foil his strive for more power. As he had deceived her, so had she decided to deceive him in return. She withheld his lusted after treasure from his reach, two powerful ancient crystals, denying him the knowledge that she had in fact located them.

She felt him potentially dangerous as powerful as he is, answering to non one, with none governing above himself. As a Jedi, she felt it her duty that his ambitions be kept in check, having the suspicion that nobody thus far has stood up to the task. The Galaxy does not need any more oppression. Hiding her true uneasiness towards him, she would encourage they continue just as they began, and develop a mutual friendship with hopes to be a trusted voice of reason to him. Above all, she hopes that someday after she knows him better, he might just prove her fears unwarranted.

All the while, Tempest focussed on Concealment of her mind within the Power of the Force.

 

[Grace Darkson]

Post 1

Grace was bored.

The Dominion was doing its part in protecting another sector from the threats of thee Galaxy, another sector in the web of unity to hold their own when the Enemy came. For her part...

Well, Grace didn't have a part. She hadn't been given anything to do, so now the woman sat in some run down bar in Navroc city, in the capital of one of the planets that was entering the metaphorical fold. And she had nothing to do, no grand job or mission for the government that she had given so much to.

They didn't trust her, she concluded. Staring it the amber liquid in her glass, she sighed. After everything, they sidelined her. Part of her wondered if it was worth it. If it was worth working with a government that wouldn't trust her because of other's choices.

 

[Dune Rhur]

Post 1
Allies: @Ra'a'mah
Enemies: ???
Objective: Inquire about Spaarti Cloning

Triv Spacesport, Cartao

Cartao was beautiful. Calling it anything short of that would be a true disservice to the world. The Jedi pair had cleared planetary customs and were now outside the sprawling Triv Spaceport. From here they could take in the nearby sights and sounds.

Dune couldn't make out the distance so well but he knew it to be full of coniferous forests. There was a river called Quatreen that bisected the landscape too. To each side were Foulahn and Navroc City respectively.

He couldn't see it but there was the site of the Spaarti Creations facility off some three or so kilometers away. That was why they'd come. It was representatives of the company on whom they awaited. They were to be transported off to the facility for a tour.

The insectoid Cranscoc natives had been more than willing to allow them access. They'd communicated through their droids in their colour-shifting language that they no longer were what they'd been before. Times had changed and so had they. But the Dominion was more than welcome to satisfy their curiosity.

Dune hadn't detected any duplicity in that holo communique any more than the local customs officials. They'd been expected and recognized instantly. Their 'search' had been cursory at best. It seemed they were very welcome to Carato.

Nothing to see here, thought the Bith as they waited.

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Location: Contruum
Objective: Rebuild a spaceport
Post: 2/38

"Molecular furnace? Surely you're not talking about the Sasori Joshu on the very earliest ships we have!" Anastasia exclaimed.

"This is precisely one of those ships we are using here today: the Zamboni"

Anastasia was slated to become the new comptroller assigned to the Primeval region but until she could arrive to her new office on Cademimu, she has to act as the chief accountant for the project. Poor Anastasia: she used to be a supermodel that drank a lot, a lot. Like thirty servings of scotch at once. Today's Anastasia was an accountant, a little raw perhaps, but a lot can change in seven years in the modeling industry. Sure, Dunames first knew Anastasia on Bespin, where her drinking antics got her noticed in First Order-land, but never did she suspect that she would become an accountant when her stardom in modeling faded, knowing that the Primeval region is a hell-hole for Star Tours personnel these days. Nevertheless, the Zamboni flies straight from Cademimu, to which Dunames flew on a jumpseat prior to reaching Contruum. She had to do it because she was dangerously close to exhausting her monthly allowance of flight hours; not even the heads of the company could be allowed to fly longer hours in a standard month.

 

[Riamah]

Post 1
Allies: [member="Dune Rhur"]
Objective: The Spaarti Cloning

In contrast to their last mission, Cartao was paradise. Customs had allowed them through in a swift and easy transition, allowing them their weapons even. Her new lightabers were up her sleeves, having replaced her knives.

Her clothing had changed ever so slightly and she now wore protective arm guards on her lower arms to keep her own sabers from cutting into her if she needed to use them. Otherwise, all else was the same. She wore and brought with her only darker clothes. Her blaster at her side, knives in her boots and staff across her back. The sabers, even Dune did not know about yet.

They stood outside the spaceport, the warm weather at their faces and the city in front of them. Ra took in a deep breath of the nature filled planet and gave a small sigh of appreciation. If the opportunity presented itself, she would like to see some of the city before they left. The sights and sounds intrigued her, but the mission came first.

The people here bug like and had to use translators to speak to them. Ra had an ear for languages though so it might be possible for her pick this one up too. Wouldn't it be odd for a human to speak perfect...whatever the language was called?

"Master Dune, where will we be staying?"

In private, she never used the honorific, but they weren't exactly alone here, so felt it better to give it to him.

[member="Dune Rhur"]

 

[Soeht]

Cartao: A Conspiracy​

The number of patrons at the bar, included [member="Grace Darkson"], could be counted on one hand. Holo-pictures lining the Wild Nerf’s walls showed a more prosperous time.

The human bartender, without much business to attend to, spent the time looking on her datapad. Yet after a few minutes had passed, she walked toward Grace.

Once she reached Grace, her hand slammed on the counter right by Grace’s drink.

Spoiler

However, a figure unlike the bartender now stood before Darkson.

“Go to Foulahn City,” it told Darkson, its voice passing through some sort of filter, “My master requires your help.”

 

[Dune Rhur]

Post 2
Allies: @Ra'a'mah
Objective: Investigate Spaarti Cloning

"Arrangements have been made to stay in unoccupied rooms at the facility's worker dorms," he said. It occurred to him that a human might be a little worried about that. After all insects didn't rest like humanoids.

"Don't worry, Spaarti Creations employs some of the human settlers here. You'll have a proper bed to sleep on."

He added the last knowing full well he wasn't going to need one. Just a peaceful place to meditate would be enough. Bith bodies had evolved to be very efficient at regenerating. Indeed much of the four hours was devoted to their lofty brains.

Off in the distance he heard an approaching speeder over the quiet buzz of the port. A moment later and the shape of a land speeder had come into view. Not long after that a human pilot pulled up beside them and was putting the vehicle on stand by. He looked to them with a friendly official smile.

"Master Rhur, Ra'a'mah Numare?," he asked politely knowing who likely the only Bith on Cartao was "I am Jax Vann from Spaarti Creations. I've been sent to pick you up. If you'd like to climb in, sir and madam?"

The Bith nodded with a polite smile and opened the rear door. He gestured for Ra to enter first and followed her in thereafter.

"Okay, we're off," said Vann as he brought the engines back on full with their signature hum....

 

[Riamah]

Post 2
Allies: [member="Dune Rhur"]
Objective: Spaarti Cloning

"Whew, that's good. Sleeping on ice cold, concrete floors again isn't an option."

She mentioned the last sleeping conditions they had and let out a little shiver at the memory. A few of the insects went past them, talking to each other. Looking at Dune and nodding her head in their direction.

"What is the language called here?"

He wasn't given the time to answer before a speeder pulled up in front of them. A human was driving and spoke to them saying he was there to take them to the facility. Dune opened one of the doors for her. She gave him a nod and smile, climbing in.

The driver took off, blending into the traffic easily. He pointed out a few of the more well known sites within the city, but fell silent as they drove out into the country. Directly outside the city were a few farms and pastures for livestock. The trees started off as little clumps scattered here and there, but lead into a large forest that trailed off into the distance leading to foothills and then into mountains.

Their destination though was only short distance out of town though and after driving only a little while they arrived.

Jax Vann pulled up to the guard gate of the compound, waved at the guard for clearance and was allowed to enter.

"Would like to go to your rooms first or start a tour?"

[member="Dune Rhur"]

 

[Dunames Lopez]

Location: Contruum
Objective: Rebuild a spaceport
Post: 3/38

"Landing sequence initiated"

"We'll soon arrive on Contruum, right?" Anastasia asked.

"Yes" Merrily told the two ladies.

The Zamboni made its entry inside Contruum's atmosphere, where fields of ruins were spread before them on a large scale. Anastasia knew that, once upon a time, the One Sith duked it out against the Republic on that planet, and very little progress has been made in all those years to rebuild the devastated areas of the planet. But that was going to change soon enough: like Hijarna, Mirial and Trian, there was much to do on Contruum. Here the designated zone was so rubble-ridden that the Zamboni was needed to get the work done. The excavation teams stood ready to feed the molecular furnace on the bow with debris from the area where the future spaceport will be, starting with the duracrete blocks and later with durasteel beams. Once the Zamboni made landfall, that is. Even so it made landfall on a ruined area, which made the ship being unstable for a while until the esxacation crews clear the debris.