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Dead Space | Galactic Alliance Hex Dominion of Polis Massa

The Dead Space Graveyard
|13|

“Wait a minute.” No, it wasn’t a cruiser. The way that the ship’s frame had been warped had completely given her a false impression. Those blue eyes went wide, the Warden guiding the salvage probe along the massive gap. A name, faded, but legible bloomed on her screen.

Fondor’s Dawn.

Chloe’s throat went dry. This was a former Protectorate ship. A chill ran down her spine. Is that how it felt to have the dead walk over it? No, it was perhaps just her emotional ties to this place. Betty rolled close and bumped her along her calf.

“Oh, no no… everything's alright.” Chloe assured Better, offering it a grateful smile. “Just… guess it doesn’t matter how long it has been.”

As the probe drifted inside, Chloe finally recognized the design. It was a Protectorate Blockade Runner.
 

Hugh Seyley

Guest
H
The Dead Space Graveyard
[ 05 ]​
"So that is the ship graveyard, eh?" Hugh asked from the companion. He was standing outside his ship, looking over the place and trying to understand what the heck was going on. There were ruins and wreckages, a lot of stuff had been already salvaged to the fullest. He doubted he would find anything right there. Maybe if they went deeper into the port, though.

"That is correct. I could scan the place and see if there is anything noteworthy."

"Do that," the Apprentice said. He then sighed and pursued to hum a simple melody while the droid would do everything he could to scan the area. This part of the graveyard was horrible and he couldn't see or hear or sense anybody else around. Maybe there were some in other parts of the graveyard. Like, since the GA was there, so there had to be some people.

The simple melody was a song he'd kept hearing everywhere. It was a rather trendy one, so most radios played it. Most advertisements were full of it. But it was a good one, he had to admit.

"There's nothing useful in these few rooms. I'd say we go three blocks deeper into the starport. However, I sensed some lifeforms there. We should be cautious."

"Yeah, sure. Whatever."
 
[ 06 ]​
"Alright, I think we're safe to go," Isaac returned to the vessel after several minutes of scouting around. "Not a single enemy spotted. I'm sure you would have felt Darksiders as well were there any of them around."

"Yeah, I felt nothing," Maria said simply as she pushed herself to her feet. "You do know how much this means to me, right? Ever since the death of the Republic... I've been alone. Now, however... The Alliance."

She could feel tears starting to form below her eyes, but she didn't care. She just smiled to Isaac, looked at him for a moment, and then the two started to move.

"What are your plans?" the Jedi Knight asked.

"Well, I am not sure right now. I think we'll just have to go with the flow."
 
Polis Massa
[member="Trextan Voidstalker"]
|14|

It was the letter that broke her. Funny, not the fact that the past month was a complete blank, but that the Rogue Squadron commander-- no -- her friend, had taken the time to write.

Choli's finger swept over the datapad display, reading over the message. The digit shook slightly, trembling in the swell of the emotion. It immediately fisted as the noise and chatter across the way rose. The sudden grab and sling of the curtain revealed a boy -- no, a wounded teenager struggling with his cybernetic enhancement. He was pissed, frustrated no doubt. It was an emotion that Choli could identify with.

Swallowing hard, the olive skinned female swung her attention back to her datapad. It was as if the guy's own emotions fed her own. I don't want to stay here, she thought to herself, feeling that fine trembling again. Maybe that's why in the next instant, Trex would be able to catch from his peripheral the slender teenage girl in the hospital gown with the thick, raven hair start to remove her IV. The mottled bruised skin hurt as Choli tugged at the line, wincing as she felt it slip out, blood scattering in tiny red beads on top of the crisp, white bedsheets.

"Feth!"
she cursed, trying to ignore the pain as she worked on the other sensor.
 

Hugh Seyley

Guest
H
The Dead Space Graveyard
[ 07 ]​
Hugh walked alongside the droid, dressed in a leather navy jacket and black trousers that hugged his legs tight. He had his signature sunglasses on -- despite the low light level in the place, his eyes were still extremely sensitive to the light, so it was for the best that he didn't take them off for a singe moment.

Think what would have happened had somebody showed light to his face with a flashlight. He would have gone blind. And that is surely something that he couldn't let happen to him.

"Yes, it's even clearer now. There is somebody in the other rooms. The heat signature is weak, so they might be in trouble. But we can't let us be fooled. It may be a Force-sensitive in hibernation mode."

"I would know that, dear mess of wires."

The two moved faster now, desperately wanting to get to the room and see what it was all about.
 
(3)

Dead Space Graveyard


Breathe in, breathe out. Focus. Concentrate.


There was light at the end of the tunnel. It was a vision and thus as real as she allowed it to be. The Great Spirit had given it to her for a reason. Chaos and pandaemonium raged around her, blood seeped out of her ears. She could do this.


But finally, she found peace amidst the maelstrom, centring herself. It coincided with the chaos ending in her vision when the Black Sun destroyed that horrible thing that produced such unimaginable terror and madness. The firemane tried to rein her empathy, feeling that the terrible sensations were bleeding over to the rest of the crew.


She was pulled out of her dream when Freya Solveig suddenly grabbed her by the firemane and gave her a good, honest-to-goddess slap across the face. "Snap out of it, Cinder," she growled, but despite the gruff tone the expression written across her face betrayed concern. "What the feth happened to you?"


As she was pulled out of the dream of horrors, Elpsis could see the tall, muscular blonde standing over her. "Freya...I...I had a vision," she managed to finally say once she was coherent enough to talk.


Vacant eyes swept across the command deck, seeing that two Firemane crewers were out cold. A third was bloodied and being carried away on a stretcher. Guilt pierced her heart like a sharp knife. "I'm sorry," she whispered.


"Yeah, no chit. What the hell did we see? Are we gonna get eaten by another Lotek'k?"


"No," Elpsis hastened to reassure her. "It was of the past. I saw what happened here. The battle, the madness...it was horrible." Slowly she arose, getting to her feet, though her legs felt like jellie. "I'll go help the wounded."


"You're not going anywhere. You look like chit. Come here and sit down. And try not to get another bad dream, clear? Don't make slap a nullifier on you." Freya's strong arms caught the swaying redhead when it looked like she was on the brink of falling over. A whisper brushed against Elpsis' mind. It felt like cool air. "Trapped. Free us," the ethereal, disembodied voice hissed. She felt a strong pull, coming from one of the ghost ships.
 
The Dead Space Graveyard
|15|

There were no signs of life on the Fondor’s Dawn. No trace of anything left alive. In the wake of fleet battle, Chloe and several hundred others along the sector had come to provide humanitarian aid. Well, more than just that really.

They had come to pick up the dead.

The fleet battle had simply ravaged across all participants. Chloe wasn’t even sure if there had been anyone spared any casualties. Honestly, the entire time during clean-up, Chloe had felt a little numb. Her faith had kept her together, but it struggled. It had been tested. There had been plenty of prayers sent to Kalahira then; for strength and for understanding. She did not know what the Gods plans were, but it was difficult to work through it.

The fights with the Bando Gora Reavers had been the same. She’d been tested on Bespin and with the Vagrant fleet.

That she managed to come this far and be strengthened by her faith was a testimony built upon a pyre.
 
[ 08 ]​
"I heard there are some merchants around at the moment. We are running low on some resources and I think we could find something awesome. Maybe we should go and check out what they have to offer?" Isaac asked the girl as the two walked around the streets of Skor II. "I haven't been to a market in ages."

"Yeah, I would enjoy that," the woman smiled. She couldn't remember the last time she'd been to a market, either. While on the run from the Dark, she and Isaac had not for once stopped in a market or a shop. They'd scavenged all they could and then get out as fast as possible.

Now, though, they were not in trouble, nor were they in a hurry.

"Amazing," the ex-soldier affirmed. "This is a crazy place, so I'm sure there are some artefact vendors around. They might have something really interesting to take to the Alliance. Y'know, to get you kickstarted maybe."

"That would be amazing."
 

Hugh Seyley

Guest
H
The Dead Space Graveyard
[ 09 ]​
And there it was.

In the next room were even more wreckages, but there was also somebody in there. The two could hear somebody moving through the ruins -- a few clicks, some thumps, a few footsteps. Somebody was scavenging for materials. Hugh wasn't the most knowledgable person when it came to different ships, but he was rather sure it was a Tulak Hord-class Star Destroyer.

These things cost a ton, so if he could find some parts from that, he could sell them for great price. However, that somebody over there was going to make things only more difficult.

"Hey, you! What the kark do you think you're doing?" Hugh shouted, ready to take his blaster out. He wasn't the best shooter, but it would at least give him some kind of a means of protection before things would get to hand-to-hand fight.

The somebody came out of the ruins.

It was a woman. A small woman.
 
[member="Choli Vyn"]

Trextan looked up, roused from his selfish wallowing. It was the embarassment that fuelled the hurt. One moment he'd been in an alliance shuttle, loading his blaster. The next he was on the deck, ears ringing and heat spreading up his side.

He looked from Choli towards the entrance to the unit in disbelief. Amusement managed to take the edge of his frustrated expression.

"Careful!" He hissed. It was easy for him to consider leaving and rebelling against his medical team, but her sudden action presented a dilemma. He thought about calling the nurse to make sure the girl didn't hurt herself. He didn't know why she was here. But if she could go, why couldn't he? Still undecided he slipped off the edge of the bed and crossed the unit floor quickly, looking towards the station at the end. There was noone there.

She was bleeding from where she had pulled the IV recklessly. Trextan grabbed the box next to her bed and pulled out a dressing. He didn't think about the arm, about the way his mind still struggled to come to terms with it being part of him. And as such his two hands worked together to carry out the delicate task of pulling free the dressing. There was a lot of his father in him. When there was something he felt needed to be done for the benefit of others he just got on with the job.

"There's nowhere to go!" He added quietly. "No passenger shuttles in until tomorrow, I asked."
 
The Dead Space Graveyard
|16|

As a Corellian, she should have recognized immediately the CEC design. However, there was a bit of a leeway considering that his particular mode, the MCR-125 had been built jointly with Baktoid. Indeed, the MCR-125, kept most of the CR90’s features intact, such as the square engine array of three engines sandwiched between four.

“It’s the Fondor’s Dawn, Betty. One of the Protectorate’s former blockade runneres.” This particular ship had its prowess refined and focused to be an agile capital ship with powerful anti-starfighter capabilities. As a foundation for this, the MCR-125 has a powerful targeting system to help it keep track of multiple targets in high-speed engagements. Eighteen quad laser cannon turrets give the ship complete starfighter coverage and allow it to engage swarms of enemy fighters at a time. Two dual turbolaser cannons give the ship modest capital ship fire, but such engagements are not what the MCR-125 was designed for.

It was a great vessel for salvage. The thing being just what was available to salvage that she could use on the Aurora and what could be salvaged for credits.
 

Hugh Seyley

Guest
H
The Dead Space Graveyard
[ 10 ]​
The woman didn't look the best. She was just as much in ruins as the ship she was trying to salvage. So that meant she was full of dirt, her clothes were ripped and full of holes, and the stink was even worse than anything else about her combined. She was a true hobo.

"Ugh," Hugh said as he tried his best not to puke. It was horrible to be there, it was horrible to look at her. But he had to. Maybe the woman was a Sith, maybe the woman was a criminal. There were too many risks he would take if he looked away from her. So he had to keep looking.

"Save me," the woman said as she started moving towards the Warden of the Sky and the droid.

"Who are you? What do you want from me?" The man was slightly frightened, he had to admit. He couldn't help himself but to take a few shy steps backwards while carefully looking down in order not to step into any trash.

"I'm Ria. Please take me to Sullust. I need to get there. I need to get my daughter back," the woman cried. Yeah, she did look like a small poor woman who'd lost her only child or something. Terrible.

"Where is your daughter?" Hugh asked, even though he was rather sure he knew exactly where the daughter was. "We can't help you if we don't know who the girl is or where she is. I have a droid over here who could search the HoloNet and tell you exactly what information there is about her."

The woman was hesitant to talk at first, but then she seemed to decide it was for the best she told everything she could. "Her name is Shea Estellise. She was taken to the New Jedi Order years ago. I need to get to her. I need to get her back."
 
[member="Trextan Voidstalker"]
|17|

It was the sudden movement and appearance of the lanky stranger that startled Choli. Those hazel green almond shaped eyes went wide, and she instinctively became wary, drawing her bloody arm close to her chest as if to protect it. The only issue being that mid Trexton attempting to wrap it, it trapped his hand mid movement and accidentally brought his artificial hand close enough smack against her chest.

That started a whole new sequence of events as Choli dropped her hand, the gauze slipping from her bruised wrists and the girl quietly shifting back on her medical cot.

"I'm fine." she managed to say, swallowing hard and a bit out of sorts at the fact that the half naked stranger was hovering over her. Dark forelocks flopped over his youthful angular features, deep set eyes staring down at her through heavy brows. From this distance Choli could see how the burns had swept over his flank. Nothing too bad, but the red mottled skin must have hurt when it happened; likely still stung. That he'd moved so fast also told her a bit more. Cues and clues, Chloe had told her. Be observant. It was just hard to when her eyes were red-rimmed and the tears threatened to prick hotly at the growing frustration that rose within them.

"It doesn't have to be a passenger shuttle." it wasn't hard to read between the lines.
 

Hugh Seyley

Guest
H
The Dead Space Graveyard
[ 11 ]​
"We'll do our best to find her," Hugh said. Huh, he had to be kidding. He would never go to Sullust to get some woman's poor child who was, no matter what her mother thought, in the safe hands of the New Jedi Order. Everybody knew that if a child was taken to the Order, there were only a few options.

The first option, and the most common one, was that the child was raised to become a Jedi. And when they did become a Jedi, they became great Jedi.

The second option, also a common one, was that the child would fail at becoming a Jedi, which would then result in them being employed in the Jedi Service Corps. That way, they could still help the Order out while not being a true knight.

And the third option, which rarely even happened, was that the kid would leave the Order and return to a normal life. That was a rare one for several different reasons, the main one of them being that nobody really wanted to leave such a life. To be honest, Hugh wouldn't have lef the Order either, had he ever been brought there.

But he hadn't. So he couldn't even leave the Order.

"No, you don't get it. You have to destroy the Jedi. They ruin lives."

"Ma'am, forgive me, but I ain't here to fulfil your dreams. You gotta do that yourself. I'm just here to salvage a ship," the Warden of the Sky muttered.

"You Jedi scum. I knew I shouldn't trust you. You are none better than them! YOU ARE A FOOL!"
 
[member="Choli Vyn"]

The artificial nerves had been tuned to be as close to Trextan's other arm as was possible. Once he'd set a mind to a task he was just as stubborn as his father and grandfather, but the flush to his cheeks and mild stammer that followed showed he'd been knocked off course a few degrees.

"Sorry... I... Erm. arm." There was no arguing this time as he made her straighten it out and gave it a quick swab. He held a small dressing over the puncture in her skin with two metal fingers and then taped it down deftly. His metal fingers were body temperature. The powercell kept it that way as otherwise the metal appendage would suck all the heat from his body.

The realisation that she was wearing a rather free gown and that he'd left his shirt on struck him as soon as the job was done. It was obvious that he then kept his eyes elsewhere.

"You can fly?" He asked sharply, the interest in his hushed tones obvious.
 
The Dead Space Graveyard
|18|

As a Corellian, she should have recognized immediately the CEC design. However, there was a bit of a leeway considering that his particular mode, the MCR-125 had been built jointly with Baktoid. Indeed, the MCR-125, kept most of the CR90’s features intact, such as the square engine array of three engines sandwiched between four.

“It’s the Fondor’s Dawn, Betty. One of the Protectorate’s former blockade runneres.” This particular ship had its prowess refined and focused to be an agile capital ship with powerful anti-starfighter capabilities. As a foundation for this, the MCR-125 has a powerful targeting system to help it keep track of multiple targets in high-speed engagements. Eighteen quad laser cannon turrets give the ship complete starfighter coverage and allow it to engage swarms of enemy fighters at a time. Two dual turbolaser cannons give the ship modest capital ship fire, but such engagements are not what the MCR-125 was designed for.

It was a great vessel for salvage. The thing being just what was available to salvage that she could use on the Aurora and what could be salvaged for credits
 

Hugh Seyley

Guest
H
The Dead Space Graveyard
[ 12 ]​
"Um, things are getting out of hand here," Hugh muttered form the corner of his mouth to the droid. "What do we do now?" He was not the wisest nor the smartest of people, that's why he largely depended on the droid to make those important decisions for him. The duo had a great relationship -- the droid was the planner, he was the one who acted.

"We have to get rid of her. She is mentally ill and has to be transported away. I can do that, if you don't mind salvaging on your own for a while," the droid whispered. Yeah, that didn't come out as a whisper though.

"Do it!" the man said.

"Ma'am, would you please come with me. I can help you. My master can't, but I can. Your baby will be brought back to you, I can assure you that."

The droid was much better of a negotiator, Hugh had to note. He eyed the woman as she marched away with his droid, then he headed to the star destroyer to see if it had anything good at all.

He climbed on top of the huge ship, even though it took him a great deal of effort. Some parts of it were slippery, some were covered with some liquid that stank horribly, some parts of it were so broken that the sharp edges could have easily ripped the man in half.

Oh dear what an adventure it was.
 
[ 13 ]​
"Hello, hello! Come and take a look at the best relics of the Old Jedi! Best price in the whole galaxy!" an alien man shouted all over the market. However, he did manage to get the attention of Maria and Isaac, so the two decided it was worth to check it out. After all, if they could get some real Force relics, they could bring a nice gift to the Alliance. If not, then at least they could have some fun.

"Hey! I heard your shoutout. You have anything interesting to offer?" Isaac approached the man. It was a Bith -- most of them were known for other things than business, but who was Isaac to judge.

"Oh yes, I have some things. Not too many, but they are valuable nonetheless."

He took out a few items. One of them Maria could distinguish -- it was the Signet rign, a piece of jewelry gifted to the valuable people of the Jedi Order. However, there were some other interesting things as well.

"What is this crown?" Maria pointed at one of them.

"Oh, this. I don't know. But it looks beautiful, doesn't it? Eh? Eh?"

"Would it be possible to touch it? I could tell what it is if I can just try it for a moment."

"Maria, isn't it the Crown of Verity?" Isaac asked. "I've seen people trying to find it before. I've heard of some even dedicating their whole lives to finding that."
 
[member="Trextan Voidstalker"]
|19|

Choli only has experience with second hand cybernetics. The cheap kind that the Jawas had fixed up and retrofitted to create junk into something serviceable. The thought or consideration that the teenager's own cybernetic arm was as temperature regulated as her own didn't dawn on her. Why would it? Her mind was just on simply getting out. Leaving here and being useful. Not stuck like some invalid because I can't remember what happened?!!.

He made her straighten out her arm, wiping the beads of blood away with a swab. A flicker up caught the red welts over his chest and ribs. Bare olive legs shifted under the flimsy excudebof a medical garb. The white color, the scent of bacta, everything was making her nauseous.

When he finished, Choli gave him a curt nod in answer, muttering a half murmur of thanks. Yup she could fly. That is if the last month was all the First Order had taken from her. The frustration rose anew and the sudden shift and jerk of her medical gown gave a rustle as she searched for the heart monitor sensor.
 

Hugh Seyley

Guest
H
The Dead Space Graveyard
[ 14 ]​
Hugh was sure he wouldn't ever need half the stuff he could salvage from a star destroyer. Mainly because he himself didn't have a star destroyer and never would have one, and also because he would never command one. Even selling the ship's parts was a little bit risky. He didn't know what factions even used the star destroyers, not even speaking whether they would want to buy its parts from a man like him or not.

However, as he looked around the area, he could see one eyecatching vessel he hadn't noticed before. It was the Blackbird, manufactured by Kuat Drive Yards. And it was a good ship which would usually cost a lot of money.

Of course he was rather certain it was salvaged and wouldn't fly anymore, he had high hopes. Maybe if he could fix it, he could have a great ship in his hands. Ooh, the thought gave him shivers.

"Yo B9, tell me something. Can I take a ship home with me?" Hugh commed his droid.

"What? A ship? We have a ship, sir," the droid said.

"Yeah, I know. But hear me out. It's a Blackbird. Y'know, KDY stuff. I don't know if it is ever gonna fly again, but just think. If we could salvage the needed parts for it, we could repair it. And we would finally have a good ship."

He was so excited about the thought.
 

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