Dominion Empire's New Clothes | Sith Order Dominion of Ghorman

[Aspect of Resolve]

Ghorman has enjoyed a long and often troublesome history defined by its instinctive resistance to outside authority. Governments have come and gone, occupying powers have risen and fallen, yet the world has consistently maintained a reputation for questioning any hand that sought to rule it. Independence is woven into the planet's identity, and that spirit has made Ghorman as politically volatile as it is economically valuable. Such a disposition stands in direct opposition to two of the defining principles upon which the Sith Order has built its dominion: strength through order and prosperity through stability.​

​

Ordinarily, such defiance would be answered as it has countless times elsewhere in the Empire, with overwhelming force, decisive conquest, and the swift establishment of Sith rule. Yet Ghorman occupies a uniquely precarious position. Situated along the increasingly strained frontier surrounding the Blackwall, the planet represents more than another world to be claimed. Any prolonged unrest, insurgency, or heavy-handed occupation would create an opening that the ever-watchful High Republic would be more than willing to exploit. In a region where every political tremor is scrutinized by both powers, the cost of a conventional conquest could easily outweigh its rewards.​

​

The Sith, therefore, have chosen an altogether different battlefield.​

​

Rather than descend upon Ghorman as conquerors, the Order arrives as benefactors. Warships have been replaced by trade delegations, military governors by diplomats, economists, and ambitious Lords eager to cultivate influence rather than demand submission. The message is carefully crafted: Ghorman will not be stripped of its wealth, but elevated by it. Its industries will not be nationalized, but expanded. Its merchants, manufacturers, financiers, and innovators are offered not chains, but opportunity.​

​

The planet's industrial magnates, shipping guilds, research firms, and merchant houses have each received invitations to present their achievements before representatives of the Sith Order. From advanced manufacturing and starship production to pharmaceuticals, finance, and heavy industry, Ghorman's greatest enterprises now compete not for survival, but for favor. Those capable of impressing the Empire stand to receive lucrative military contracts, exclusive resource rights, unprecedented investment, and preferential access to markets stretching across Sith-controlled space.​

​

For the Sith, the strategy is as pragmatic as it is calculated. Credits often succeed where armies fail. A population that profits from Imperial stability is far less likely to rebel against it, while influential families whose fortunes become intertwined with Sith patronage soon find themselves invested in preserving the very regime they might once have opposed. Monopoly, prestige, and political leverage become rewards reserved for those willing to align themselves with the Empire's vision.​

​

It is, in many ways, conquest without invasion.​

​

Whether Ghorman's fiercely independent elite can be bought where they could never be broken remains an unanswered question. Yet for now, both sides gather beneath banners of commerce rather than war, each believing they stand to shape the future of the planet. Behind every handshake lies negotiation, behind every investment an expectation, and behind every promise the quiet understanding that influence, once accepted, is rarely surrendered willingly.​

The ancient Kalkite mines that once supplied the construction of Darth Sidious’ Death Stars are perhaps the greatest prize to be had from the planet. The locals haven’t exactly forgotten the jewels of their world either and the more industrious of them are already clamoring for exclusive mining rights and deals with our forces but with a noticeable catch. ​

​

Apparently the old trenches do still exist, albeit buried beneath existing settlements and cities, yet within the cavities there has brewed a series of deadly and decidedly explosive gases which have thus far stunted any mining attempts on a significant scale. Finding a solution to this debacle, whether that entails leveling a town or two to drain the gas or venturing into the trenches to find some source for them or the like, has become paramount if Ghorman's Kalkite is to be mined to any usable degree.​

The great exhibition halls of Ghorman have opened their doors to the Sith Order, inviting the planet's finest artisans, manufacturers, inventors, merchants, and entrepreneurs to display the very best their world has to offer. Every exhibit is an opportunity to earn Imperial favor, secure lucrative contracts, or convince powerful patrons that their enterprise deserves to shape Ghorman's future.​

​

Of course, the competition is every bit as fierce as the opportunities are plentiful. Rival businesses vie for attention, investors search for the next great venture, and ambitious Sith eagerly weigh promises against results. Whether unveiling a masterpiece, demonstrating a breakthrough invention, or brokering a deal behind closed doors, success belongs to those capable of leaving a lasting impression.​

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: xxx
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
TAG: OPEN

The exhibition halls had been transformed into a monument to Ghorman's ambition.

Towering banners marked the entrances to sprawling displays where the planet's most accomplished manufacturers, inventors, financiers, and industrial houses had gathered beneath one roof. Starship components gleamed beneath carefully positioned lighting. Heavy machinery cycled through demonstrations with practiced precision while holographic projections illustrated production capacities, logistical networks, and investment projections. Representatives drifted through the crowds in tailored attire, eager to answer questions before they had been asked, each convinced their enterprise represented the future of Ghorman.

For many, today was about competition.

For Gerwald, it was about evaluation.

The Dark Councilor entered without fanfare, though his presence alone was enough to draw more than a few discreet glances from those who recognized him. His reputation had reached worlds far beyond Sith space long before he ever had. Some knew him as the Dread Wolf. Others knew him as the commander responsible for one of the Empire's largest military formations. Regardless of the title, most understood the same simple truth.

His approval carried weight.

Golden eyes wandered across the immense hall, taking in far more than the exhibits themselves. He watched how presenters interacted with potential investors. He noted which demonstrations attracted genuine curiosity and which relied upon spectacle to compensate for an uninspired product. The strongest companies rarely needed to shout. Confidence was often quieter than desperation.

A military campaign had taught him that logistics won wars long before soldiers ever reached a battlefield. Supply lines, manufacturing capacity, maintenance infrastructure, transportation networks, and dependable production determined whether victories could be sustained or merely celebrated before collapsing beneath their own success.

That reality did not change simply because the battlefield had become a trade exhibition.

Displays dedicated to luxury goods and personal indulgence earned only passing attention before the Dread Wolf continued onward. They had their place, but they would not determine whether the Empire remained secure along the Blackwall. Instead, his interest settled upon the foundations that supported civilization itself. Heavy industry. Starship construction. Advanced manufacturing. Communications infrastructure. Automation. Resource extraction. Medical production. Every enterprise capable of strengthening the Empire's ability to endure the next inevitable conflict was worthy of examination.

Gerwald neither hurried nor lingered without purpose. He allowed conversations to unfold naturally around him while exhibitors wrestled with a familiar dilemma. Should they interrupt him with carefully rehearsed presentations, or wait and hope he stopped at their display of his own accord?

Either choice would tell him something. One revealed preparation. The other revealed confidence.

Both were useful.

For now, however, the Dread Wolf simply walked among Ghorman's finest, observing the world not as a conqueror deciding what to take, but as a commander determining what was worth building. The Empire had not come to Ghorman seeking another battlefield.

It had come searching for the industries that would ensure it never lost one.

 

[Makai Dashiell]

DEEP SUBSTRATE FOLIATED KALKITE

Wearing | Gear : X | X | X | X | X | L3-37 | Interacting With : Open

​

ANIA HOLDINGS KALKITE MINE

Standing in the guard towers, macrobionculars strained to see the horizon. Small figures walking into the old kalkite tunnels. Bits of equipment. Vessels had already clogged the air all morning. Research on the end of staff showed Sith Order vessels. No one was surprised, although what was surprising was their focus on the tunnels.

"Think they are going to restart the old tunneling system?"

"Maybe. Probably going to get eaten by spiders or blown to bits by the gouge mining process." Binocs went back up to the guards face. "You really think they know how to do more than swing a sword around? Doubtful."

Shoulders shrugged from the other guard. "True, didn't come guns blazing this time. At least they have some sense to know this planet is valuable and orbital bombardment would be foolish."

"Small miracles."

---

Far back in the Corporate Sector, Makai looked over his messages. An alert of activity around the strip mining process on Ghorman. Sith Order.

He had long suspected the planet wouldn't escape the eye of a government for too long. His operations had set up during the death rattles of the Galactic Alliance, the bloated government too focused on Jedi to know the credit-pile of a planet in their possession. It worked out good for him, allowing the invasive process of strip mining to go forward with little push back.

There was a small concern of the Blackwall, yet he had his own communication arrays set up to bypass traditional methods. Depending on what the Sith did, transportation of kalkite would be a minor issue out but that was a cross the bridge when it came to type thing.

Ghorman Mine,

Continue business as normal. A team will be sent to deal with any Blackwall issues. Keep me informed if status changes.

-M. Dashiell

 

[SL-0182]

Location: Theron West - Ghorman
Thread Objective: Delving Too Deep
Mission Objective:

• Enter the fortified underground labyrinth beneath Theron West’s oldest district.
• Neutralize insurgents.
• Set explosive charges at designated structural points.

Tag: Eira Dyn

Not all of the Ghor were willing to negotiate or to engage in the pragmatic exchange of goods, credits, and services that was hoped to define the relationship between the Sith Order and the Ghorman planetary government. In that, while the Sith had not arrived as conquerors, there were still a select few operatives, assets, agents, assassins, and enforcers among them who had been tasked with pacifying the relatively small number of extant insurgent cells. Their role had suddenly become critical with the unexpected discovery of the ancient Kalkite mining trenches buried beneath various settlements and cities that had sprung up in the nine hundred years since the collapse of the First Galactic Empire.

A lone, black-hulled Kharvoss shuttle cut through the clouds as little more than a ghost, its crimson runework pulsing as the vessel’s pilots activated the Null Mantle to obfuscate it from passive sensors and the Force alike. SL-0182 sat quietly within the passenger bay, delicate fingers moving with instinctive precision as she checked over her equipment. From there, she pulled up a holoprojection of the local area’s tactical map on her gauntlet computer, brown eyes widening as her gaze traced the labyrinthine tunnels that snaked beneath Theron West's oldest district.

She, along with the Sith Acolyte Eira Dyn, had been tasked with infiltrating the underground labyrinth, clearing out the insurgents, and setting charges at designated structural points. Once detonated, the resulting explosions would expose the ancient mining trenches, thereby allowing the deadly gases trapped within to vent out into the atmosphere.

In the process, the town itself would likely be rendered uninhabitable as the detonations collapsed buildings, ruptured streets, and swallowed structures over the trench network while toxic gases flooded the streets to choke any survivors in low-lying areas.

After reviewing the details of the briefing, SL-0182 adjusted the satchel containing the baradium charges over her shoulder, comfortably settling its weight on her person. All the while, her probe droid sat perched on the headrest of a seat in front of her, its duranium-durasteel wings furled shyly around its body as its crimson photoreceptor fixed the dark-haired Sith acolyte with a curious, unblinking stare.

It was then that SL-0182’s comms pinged a transmission from the shuttle’s pilots. The Asset listened to it in silence, a faint, yet all too uncanny smile plastered across her features, before she turned to address Eira.

“The pilots have informed me that we are coming up on the landing site just outside the town, My Lady.” she said, her voice a melodic monotone that carried no hint of urgency or apprehension. She paused then, allowing Eira to respond, before continuing on. “How do you wish to proceed after we touch down?”

Spoiler: Loadout

• Klase Vele Combat Skin Mk. I - Helmet Configuration
  
  • Arms
    
    • FAE/M-02 Energized Forearm Vibroblade Mk. II - L Forearm
  • Energy Shield
    
    • Phase III “Force Avenger” Energy Shield
• KSMG-7 Mk. II - Kainate Submachine Gun Model Seven Second Rendition
  
  • Ammunition
    
    • Extended Magazine - Active Wave Cancellation Ammunition (2)
    • Standard Magazine - Active Wave Cancellation Ammunition (4)
    • Standard Magazine - High Explosive Ammunition (2)
  • Attachments
    
    • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
    • Phase I “Susurration” Anti-Sonic Silencer
• KCP-4 - Kainate Combat Pistol Model Four
• Ammunition
  
  • FAE/AM-01-S1 Energy Weapon Cartridge - Ethaerium Gas and CryoBan Coolant (6)
• Attachments
  
  • 1-5x FAE/S-08 Electro-Sight
  • Phase I “Susurration” Anti-Sonic Silencer
• Siqsa-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Obscuration Canister (2)
• FAE/MDE-01-S1 Semiautonomous Seeker Thermal Explosive (4)
• Baradium Charge (6)
• Agzonûboj-type Probe Droid

 

[Helix]

Tag: Open

​

It was no exaggeration to say that few planets had suffered like Ghorman.

Helix had been here a number of times throughout his long life, and each time, the world had been under the thumb of one tyrant or another.

The Ghor people had seldom been suffered to rule themselves, and when they had tried, their current occupiers had rarely reacted charitably. Century after century, tyrant after tyrant, massacre after massacre.

So it would be again soon. The Sith had advanced inexorably toward the planet, and thus far, no power had seemed able to check them. For the moment, however, Ghorman was enjoying their final days of short-lived autonomy. Were the natives wise, they'd spend this time moving off-planet. The Ghor were experienced with horror, but not with the caliber of horror that the Sith would bring.

Helix was here now to enjoy that period. The planet was charming, in its way, though tainted everywhere with the ghosts of past misdeeds. One couldn't walk twenty feet without tripping over a monument or memorial to one act of butchery or another.

He could relate to that kind of backward-facing attitude. It completely suffused the culture he'd currently parked himself in. Always looking back to faded past glories (or suffering) instead of grasping toward the future, and mastered by a lofty and distant few who couldn't care less where things were headed. Or at least, that was his perception. One could only watch it happen so many times before beginning to make predictions.

Such was the unceasing wheel of history. Rise, glory, decline, fall, irrelevance. Still, one could find the occasional moments of peace in between these fiery dissolutions. Few people understood how best to enjoy these fleeting windows better than the Ghor.

Alas, there was little enough time for leisure and plenty for work. Helix jealously guarded the reason-defying technological wonders he created, and was loath to show them off to the people they'd soon subjugate. In all likelihood, the Ghor would experience those weapons in the most intimate terms possible before too long, if their previous record of rebelliousness was anything to go by.

The alternative was less-glamorous but important surveying work. The real reason the Sith were here, of course, was the Kalkite.

So it was that Helix had delved into the vast mine-trenches left here centuries ago. For once, he'd bothered to bring a weapon, though it had seen more use as a tool thus far. There was little alive down here to shoot at, aside from the occasional lone spider that fled at his presence. Aside from the shotgun itself, twin bandoliers of sensor-shells crisscrossed his shoulders and chest. Unheeding of toxic fumes or crushing tunnel collapses, he'd plunged alone into the spider-haunted heart of Ghorman.

Now and again, he would pause in front of a likely-looking spot, chamber a shell, and put a survey slug into the wall. More rarely, he'd fire in an area that was already full of gas, prompting a violent incendiary explosion.

The resultant wash of flames and stone-shrapnel against his skin was irritating, but hardly dangerous. At the very least, it was clearing out some pockets of fumes here and there.

He'd already identified two potential Kalkite deposits. Digging them out was the job of menials even lowlier than he seemed to be judged as, but they'd have an easier time with him triggering the natural traps that lurked around every corner.

 

[Darth Strosius]

Equipment: Lightsaber - Sword - Dagger - Robes
Tags: Gerwald Lechner / Open!
--------------------------------------------

There were exactly two resources on Ghorman that made it valuable. One was the revolutionary and rebellious spirit of the local inhabitants, a sentiment that while He could of course greatly sympathize with also made Him doubt that they would be willing to partake in His aspirations and maneuvering. At least for now. Perhaps once they had a few generations worth of Sith rule they'd be a bit more malleable in their attitude and He could twist them more in His favor.

Kalkite was the other and normally Darth Strosius would have been all too eager to join in the mining efforts the current predicament of the gases made any real progress on that front less than viable. There would have to be lengthy processes of extracting and draining the gas from the various pockets of ore and at present His resources were committed elsewhere. That idea was out as well then, but with a careful enough hand a clever enough speech He might just be able to make progress on gaining both of Ghorman's resources.

Which was why the typically asocial Sith Lord was at an exhibition instead of anywhere more fitting for one such as He, His hidden gaze wandering over displays of everything from clothing to art to machinery. What He might have lacked in resources He did make up for in a fair few credits to make key investments. Emptying out crime lord accounts and entire cartel stockpiles did earn some rather nice income, even if it wasn't consistent or reliable.

Income that would undoubtedly be integral to any of the businesses and enterprises on Ghorman that were so desperate to show off for their potential Sith patrons if they wanted their revenue streams to survive behind the Blackwall. Such as right them when He was being petitioned by a textile company on the materials of His own heavy ornate robes with them promising that they could deliver high quality fabrics in any design that He so wished. Their pitch wasn't bad in all honesty, although clearly they were in dire need of an investment given their desperation.

"Right...yes. And, do tell me, have you ever thought of combat usage for your products? Military applications are a necessity you know."

 

[Eira Dyn]

Location: Ghorman
Armour Mode: Assassin
Equipment: Marwolaeth Ddu, Lethal Pursuers, Vibrosword, Blaster pistol
Tag: SL-0182

Eira had not worn her assassin attire in a long time, there had been more of a need for her war variant. Pushing her Force abilities to their limits, combat prowess over anything else. No, now she was silent, light on her feet and sharply aware of her surroundings. Eira had gone over the mission in her mind, these Ghorman fools had designed their towns over the places where the mines were, they were asking to be destroyed and incite rebellion, not understanding that this was a necessary act. The gas was too dangerous and it would risk far too many. Slow methods would leave risk for more leaks, more damage and potentially creating toxic earth or water supplies. Burning it all up instantly, that was the only way to ensure that the safety was done for longevity not just in the moment.

The gaze of the droid did not bother Eira, if she truly did not wish the droid to sense her, then Eira could make herself invisible. Plenty of ways to fool not only people but droids too.

Hearing that they were close, Eira rose from her seat and headed towards the back of the ship. She closed her eyes and Eira thought about the mission, it shouldn't be complicated, they shouldn't struggle to get the work down. "Tell me, Kainite, what are your skills with stealth? If we can be invisible, hidden from sight then get deep into the air to place the charges and leave without detection..."

"Well then, their rebels, their voices of Sith destroying their lands. It will fall on deaf ears, since how could we be the ones at fault if we were never there. Never known to be anywhere near there." She turned her head to SL-0182, "do you think you could keep up with me on that style of mission? Once things explode, the enemies will be neutralised anyways, so the sneakier we are, the more impact we can do while having the Sith look completely innocent and unconnected."

"Frame this as another issue of locals not understanding the damages they have right by their feet." Means that the Sith could impose harsher rules, demand more rights to mine if the locals were seen as incompetent or creating the danger to their homes and world.

 

[Velda Nar-Donna]

Tag: Gerwald Lechner / Darth Strosius / Open
Attire: Dark cherry colored sith robes​

For a Corellian aristocrat who doubled as a hidden Sith. Ghorman held a particularly enticing pull for her. Namely, Ghorman’s reputation for lavish quality and durability in fabrics held a reputation as among the best in the galaxy.

So naturally, she wanted to see what was on display tonight.

Her gaze shifted away from the window, tracking across the hotel suite to settle on the bed.

On Xander Blackmoore

He was sleeping. She watched him, content to simply register the rhythm of it. The steady, silent rise and fall of his chest with every breath drawn and released.

She didn’t wish to wake him since he was sleeping so soundly.

She rose from the sofa and made her way toward the door. She left Xander a note, handwritten, informing him of where she would be just in case he awoke before she got back.

And with that, the door sealed shut behind her as she left the hotel suite this evening.

And soon found herself at the entrance of the exhibition hall.

The entrance to the exhibition hall loomed before her minutes later, bathed in the sharp, sterile display of high-end commerce.

It was what she had anticipated: high-fashion luxury goods designed to make statements, flanked by vast displays of military grade options, some of which were ambitious, untested prototypes.

She made no genuine attempt to hide her force presence.

She didn’t need to.

With so many Sith among the exhibition stalls and corners of the various manufacturers and companies. It had allowed her to hide in plain sight.

That is when she sensed him nearby.

Gerwald

Then turned to him as she walked by.

“Why, hello,” her voice delivery was smooth, measured against the ambient noise of the exhibition floor.

“Have any items of note come across your interest this evening?”

 

[Taeli Raaf]

​

While Ghorman would normally hold her interest for the rare variant of kalkite contained within its crust, she was leaving that task to others. She had heard that Aina Holdings had operations on the planet, so perhaps a short message to Makai Dashiell would be necessary. She was sure he would not mind an assurance that anything he had going on here would continue undisturbed from her fellows as long as Aurora could purchase the kalkite from his conglomerate at market rates. Perhaps even a pass through one of the Blackgates bearing her seal to eliminate any pesky customs oversight for movement out of the Blackwall.

But that could wait a moment.

Currently, she was browsing the stalls of Ghorman twill and silks, looking for dresses for her family. She already had a few pieces in the closet, but Fio would never say no to her buying another Ghorman-made outfit. One of the other exhibition displays was showing off the armor that the Sith Order and Aurora had designed for the legions, as her officials negotiated with the silk guilds to produce pieces of the armor and command markings here.

 

[Saryn Zambrano]

The former Darth Xyrah, spouse of his beloved Darth Carnifex , had for the longest time seemingly been secluded from the public eye in Sith space since his "retirement" from Sith life. Yet he had not been inactive, secretly still spearheading many of the Kainate's top secret research projects. Yet despite his retirement, he did miss the parties and galas that he once dominated his schedule with. A chance to mingle and socialize with his peers.

Thankfully, an opportunity arose with the new efforts to bring Ghorman into the Sith Imperial fold. A great exhibition to allow the artisans of Ghorman to present their masterful wares to the Sith, and and opportunity for the wealthy nobility and business leaders of the planet to mingle with their Sith Imperial peers. Saryn's isolation from the public eye was about to come to it's end, at long last, as his Royal Starship touched down outside the exhibition, and the glamorous spouse of Carnifex stepped down it's boarding ramp in an equally glamorous golden dress and high heels, flanked by his personal bodyguard of four IG-X Magnaguards.

As Saryn entered the exhibition, there was much surprise and jubilation from the gathered nobles and business leaders upon realizing who he was. The illusive spouse of Darth Carnifex himself arriving to partake in the festivities was causing quite the excitement indeed....

 

[Tobias Dib]

Tags: Gerwald Lechner Saryn Zambrano Taeli Raaf Velda Nar-Donna Darth Strosius


He stood outside the stream of marketers and those of the Sith who were financially fluent enough to strike bargains on silk and cloth. Booths of various sizes displayed propositions from mining to the varioús products of their native ghorlectipods, the native spiders. Great tapestries of silk hung along the walls of the exhibition hall. Several pieces were artfully constructed with sigils and symbols of the Sith Order in hopes to gain favor and position with the arrival of the regime. While many of his ilk were drawn to the tapestries, garnering a manufactured copacetic stance, others saw through the facade for what it was—an attempt to foster relations through visual manipulation. And while many of the Ghor smiled while greeting new prospective buyers and investors, their carefully crafted goodwill rarely reached their eyes.

Yes, the Ghor sought to peddle their wares to the Sith Order in hopes of a mutually beneficial alliance between the upper echelon of Ghorman's elite and the newly arrived powerhouse of Sith. And yet, the man took no notice of the charlatan acts of benevolent friendship. Ghorman was famed for two things that brought the Sith scurrying through the exhibition hall. The precious fabric of silk and Ghorman twill stood on the right while the kalkite deposits remained on the left. Both were worthy endeavors for high margins of profit. However, it left the third and potentially greatest asset of the planet unmined.

The indomitable spirit of independence, rebellion, and capability of conflict that beat beneath the breast of every single Ghor.

This was the most invaluable commodity the planet had to offer. And it was the subject of his desire. So the giant moved through the booths, blue eyes flickering from merchants of bolts of fabric to peddlers of trinkets to representatives of the silk guild magnates. Amidst the Sith, his name was relatively unknown. Wielders of established mythos, figures of military renown, and bloodlines of great Houses were represented. And yet he did not allow this to deter him.

His own lineage held bloodlines of import, yet he knew it wasn't about what accolades the family had attained or grandiose accomplishments of others. It was all about what you did, the drive behind your actions, and the choices made that defined you. And the young man had goals and the fervor to see their lofty heights reached. Now it was about fostering his ambition, making the appropriate connections, and being ruthless enough to strike when the moment arrived.

The crowds thinned at his approach. Not because of an especially powerful presence or terrifying visage. But because of his size. His figure towered over the average size, with a seven-foot frame and shoulders the width of a door. The matte black beskar'gam added to his already imposing hulk while his buy'ce rode in the netting at his waist. Brown hair fell in waves to his shoulders, and an articulate goatee framed benign lips that expressed neither joy nor rage. Armored boots echoed within the din of the hall while eyes searched for the thing he was looking for. Until they finally rested on a booth that revealed the object of his desires.

Threading through the crowd, a man clipped his side and turned to offer an angry retort. But when you turn to face a man and find yourself looking into an armored chest plate before craning your neck to look up and into a face that holds no emotion, a quickly mumbled apology was the most apt course. As the other man rapidly retreated into the throng of people, the giant returned his attention to the booth that lay near the edge of the wall. Most walked by, giving the several Ghor standing near the front little attention. Their clothing was sturdily constructed, though he could see several reworked seams and patchwork on their garments. Callused hands folded across each other or rested on hips as they attempted to catch the eyes of passersby. They were hardworking folk with well-earned pride in their eyes. While they needed a benefactor, they wouldn't beg for it.

And this was exactly the type of people the man had been looking for. Those willing to work for what they needed, still stood with their heads held high, and, most importantly, had the will to do whatever it was to get them ahead. Their harsh reality had shaped them, as had their forefathers.

Yes, they would do.

 

[Gerwald Lechner]

WEARING: This
WEAPONS: Ferrum Solus | Blodmåne | Strømafbryder
SHIP: Vigfjall
TAG: Velda Nar-Donna | Tobias Dib | Darth Strosius | Taeli Raaf | Saryn Zambrano

Gerwald had never considered himself much of a merchant.

There were others within the Empire far better suited to negotiating contracts, calculating margins, or determining precisely how many credits could be squeezed from a favorable arrangement before the other party decided it was no longer favorable. Gerwald understood the necessity of such things, but necessity did not make them interesting. Give him soldiers, objectives, and a battlefield, and the Dread Wolf knew precisely where he belonged.

Still, there was something to be said for what the Sith had accomplished on Ghorman without firing a shot.

The great exhibition halls were alive with activity. Merchants and industrialists competed for attention while representatives of the Empire moved between displays with varying degrees of interest. Ghorman silk hung in enormous tapestries along the walls, several already carrying the symbols of the Sith Order. Manufacturers demonstrated machinery while investors gathered around holographic projections filled with numbers Gerwald had little desire to study. Somewhere among it all, enough credits were changing hands to purchase a respectable fleet.

Gerwald moved through the exhibition at his own pace.

He did not need to announce himself. The Dread Wolf had spent enough years at the center of the Empire's wars that recognition usually came without introduction. Some merchants watched him pass before hurriedly deciding whether their product could somehow be marketed toward the military. Others attempted to catch his attention with promises of quality, efficiency, or exclusivity.

Most received little more than a polite acknowledgment.

It was the people Gerwald found himself watching.

The smiles were convincing enough, but Ghorman had not suddenly fallen in love with the Sith because they arrived carrying investment portfolios rather than lightsabers. Beneath the practiced hospitality remained something harder. Pride, perhaps. Defiance certainly. Gerwald could appreciate both.

Submission given too easily was rarely worth having.

The Ghor had spent generations resisting those who sought to decide their future for them, and Gerwald doubted a few lucrative contracts would erase that instinct. Perhaps that was precisely why this approach had merit. The Empire did not need another resentful population waiting for the first sign of weakness to revolt. If Ghorman could discover that its ambitions were better served within the Sith Order than outside it, there would be little need to force the matter.

His attention shifted as another ripple moved through the crowd.

Gerwald glanced toward its source and caught sight of a familiar enough figure surrounded by four Magnaguards. Saryn's appearance seemed to have generated considerable excitement among Ghorman's elite. Considering how long Carnifex's spouse had remained outside the public eye, Gerwald supposed their reaction was understandable.

The faintest trace of amusement touched his features before he continued.

Something else had already caught his attention.

The armor stood among one of the larger exhibitions, immediately recognizable as the Legionnaire design developed between the Sith Order and Aurora. Gerwald changed course without hesitation.

This was something he understood.

He stopped before the display and studied the armor in silence. His attention moved across its construction before settling on the sections being discussed by Aurora's representatives and members of the Ghorman silk guilds. Whatever negotiations had already taken place, the intent was apparent. Ghorman's textile industry was being considered for portions of the armor as well as the markings which distinguished command.

That interested him considerably more than another bolt of expensive fabric.

The Second Legion was growing, and Gerwald had no intention of allowing its soldiers to become little more than bodies wrapped in whatever equipment happened to be available. The Dreadborne were being forged into something with an identity of their own, shaped by the culture Gerwald had brought with him from Stewjon and tempered by the needs of a modern Imperial military. Their armor needed to reflect that without sacrificing the practicality demanded of soldiers expected to fight anywhere the Empire sent them.

His fingers brushed lightly across one of the materials presented alongside the armor.

"How well does it handle heat?"

The representative nearest him hesitated, apparently having prepared for a very different sort of question.

Gerwald looked toward them.

"Not a laboratory test. Sustained exposure. Fire, plasma discharge, damaged compartments aboard a ship."

That earned a more thoughtful answer.

Better.

He remained at the display for several minutes, asking about durability, manufacturing time, and how easily damaged portions could be replaced in the field. There were questions of scale as well. A material suitable for ceremonial markings was one thing. Something capable of being produced for thousands of soldiers without sacrificing quality was another.

Gerwald was examining another sample when he felt a familiar presence moving through the currents of the Force.

He did not immediately turn.

"Why, hello."

The greeting finally drew his golden eyes away from the display.

A slight grin tugged at the corner of his mouth as Gerwald regarded the Corellian aristocrat who had found him among the crowd.

"Apparently I am shopping for fabric," he answered, the quiet humor unmistakable in his voice.

Gerwald glanced back toward the Legionnaire armor.

"Though I suspect my requirements are somewhat different than yours."

His gaze returned to Velda Nar-Donna .

"There are a few things worth a closer look. This certainly has potential."

Gerwald gestured toward the armor before allowing his attention to drift briefly across the enormous exhibition hall.

"What about you? Come all the way to Ghorman for something particular, or simply seeing what catches your eye?"

 

[Tobias Dib]

Tags: Gerwald Lechner Velda Nar-Donna Taeli Raaf Saryn Zambrano Darth Strosius Open

It wasn't a high-end booth filled with glossy fabrics and salespeople spouting a litany of rehearsed spiel in an attempt to catch the more superficial of customers. Neither did the booth sit in a 'prime real estate' section of the exhibition hall. Instead, it was an outlier representing an altogether different form of trade goods. Dark eyes, shadowed by the mane of hair, looked over the proposal laid out in a simple yet economical pitch. There wasn't an immediate return on investment. That, in itself, caused many browsing customers to pass up the opportunity.

The pitch was for investors to get in on the ground floor and take a chance on the wide range of possibilities laid out in their inelegant yet straightforward proposal. He towered over the diminutive table as he considered what was offered. A combine of families, over a thousand strong, looking to purchase one of the great valleys of Ghorman to establish a new series of ghorlectipod webberies to challenge the great estates of the Beldoni Valley. Over half the families had assisted the collection of silks and had the necessary knowledge and experience to make the dream come to fruition. Yet they lacked the single most important item that could turn the dream into a reality.

Funding.

Currency was something the hulking form of Tobias had. What he lacked was the fortuity of occasion to grow his financial holdings. As he took a sheaf of papers and thumbed through the more intricate details, his eyes lit upon several names of interest hidden within the pages of families involved. Now he was looking at what he had been searching for throughout the cumbersome exhibition hall amid the tedious details of hundreds of propositions. Before arriving on Ghorman, Tobias had done his due diligence. The planet was rife with dissidents, rebels, anarchist types, and many who carried the label of criminal. Most sought autonomy. Others held a stubborn streak that revealed itself in encounters that grew physical. And some just wanted to find an outlet to fight, a release of pent-up frustration brewed over hundreds of generations.

He allowed a slight curve of his lips to be seen. This was what he had been searching for. A group of Ghor who wanted, needed, an outlet for their more violent tendencies. The problem with this particular class of unruly assortment was control. It was a problem for those who sought to utilize the aggression of the Ghor. Control was often perceived as indentured servitude, which grew the hostility and focused it on those seeking to wield power over the Ghor. No, that path led to mutual destruction. Control wasn't what was needed with the Ghor. But leverage? The right fulcrum point could easily motivate and guide the actions of the more rebellious natures into a profitable use.

And all it would require of him was a few credits to become their benefactor.

Purchasing the valley, fronting the combine with initial investments to begin construction and reallocation of wild ghorlectipods, a slush fund for homes with an allotment for salaries to float the workers through the first harvest season would firmly place him within their good graces while making them beholden to their benefactor. And it would make his second proposition to the combine more equitable to accept.

The offer to enter into a mutually beneficial service, under his command. The dissident, rebellious, aggressive, proud, and other members of their group who sought a different form of work. Soldiers. By his agreement to become their benefactor, he could mold the volunteers into a new fighting force. One that would accommodate their already formidable tendencies and give direction for release. While also growing his power base and military personnel.

Along with the new source of potential legionnaires, he would be the recipient of a new influx of income. It would require several seasons before the combine could grow to challenge the other webberies of the established estates. But where those who labored in Beldoni Valley merely worked for wages, the families of the combine were working for themselves. And independence was a powerful motivator for a good work ethic which would improve performance and quality, if not quantity as well. Now, he allowed his lips to twitch into a grin.

"Tell me more."

 

[CT-312]

//: Quinn Varanin Taeli Raaf //:
//: Attire //:
//: OBJ II -Threads of Power //:

CT-312 walked a step behind the Princess as they made their way through Ghorman’s sprawling exhibition halls. BARCA was already combing through overlapping murmurs of hundreds of conversations around them. Fragments briefly appeared along the edge of her HUD whenever BARCA deemed something worth noting, most of it amounted to business dealings and enthusiasm whenever those from the Sith Order gathered somewhere.

This was certainly… different.

Her helmet turned slowly as they passed another elaborate display. The entire affair reminded CT-312 of the Exhibition of Light on Naboo. During that time, it seemed that those attending had been more concerned with presenting an image of progress and harmony. A facade meant to inspire confidence in what cooperation might accomplish. From what CT-312 remembered, plenty of those attending had seemed more interested in the grandeur rather than the technology and making alliances. Ghorman was another matter entirely.

People here were actually asking questions. Technical specifications were being examined and judged. Investors lingered at booths long after demonstrations had ended. Corporate delegates negotiated agreements several stalls away. Even the Sith themselves appeared more interested in what could be acquired, funded, or incorporated rather than simply admiring what had been placed before them.

CT-312 hadn’t expected the Sith Order to arrive carrying contracts and handling things in a more diplomatic approach. The Scout was used to the heavy hand and quick strikes when handling other planets that refused to bend. This was much more of a quieter conquest. The Scout returned her attention forward while bringing up a private channel. Typing across her vambrace, she sent Eira Dyn a brief message. Its contents contained a little reminder and simple instructions regarding the slicer droid she had been given. Find one surviving terminal inside the ancient Kalkite mines, place the droid on it, and let it automatically bury itself into the terminal's systems. BARCA would handle everything after that.

The message disappeared from her HUD. CT-312’s eyes caught movement up ahead as a local representative had broken away from one of the stalls. His arms were carrying brightly printed flyers and catalogs. Each had logos and names from various Ghorman businesses and outside companies. He was calling out offers, heading toward their direction as he moved through the crowd. Insisting and pressing the advertisement materials into the hands of anyone unfortunate enough to be within reach.

As he neared, he spotted Quinn. His expression brightened. CT-312’s did not. The Scout shifted half a step before the local Ghorman could reach the Princess. One gloved hand swept forward, collecting the flyer and catalog that was eagerly extended out at Quinn’s direction. The representative was left staring directly into the tinted visor. Whatever enthusiasm had accompanied the forming sales pitch immediately vanished. His words stumbling in his throat and mouth. CT-312 said nothing. She simply remained between him and Quinn, visor remained fixed and her posture communicated everything that needed to be said. He backed away with an apologetic bow, muttering something about enjoying the exhibition, before quickly redirecting himself toward another cluster of visitors.

A low grumble rolled through CT-312’s helmet as she watched him disappear into the crowd. The sound hardly escaped further than the helmet’s voice modulator as the exhibition’s lively crowd drowned it out. Pushy. Her gloved fingers tightened around the flyer until the paper folded inward with a crumple. CT-312 casually tossed it into a waste as they passed, preparing to do the same with the catalog beneath it.

CT-312 paused. The cover showed a rifle. Her visor lowered slightly. She opened the catalog and randomly flipped through the pages quickly while BARCA quietly scanned alongside of her. Weapons manufacturers, personal armor, specialized equipment… Several companies had advertisements directing attendees toward their respective exhibition stalls. Her pace slowed just enough for another page to turn.

Hmm… Perhaps… not everything about Ghorman’s exhibition was completely unbearable. Something to review later on. CT-312 rolled up the catalog and tucked it behind. It poked out of one of her pouches.

She and Quinn continued deeper into the exhibition. CT-312 found herself glancing toward the Princess every so often, noticing despite the number of displays they had passed, Quinn had yet to purchase anything. That observation created an entirely different problem… Conversation.

CT-312 considered how exactly one initiated the subject of shopping without sounding like she was conducting an interrogation. BARCA provided absolutely no useful assistance on the matter. Her jaw shifted beneath the helmet, leaning slightly closer towards Quinn so that her voice would carry clearly over the surrounding noise. “Ah—” The slight hesitation escaped before she could stop it. CT-312 angled her helmet toward the Princess. “Is there anything in particular you’re interested in or looking for here?”

Before she could determine whether that sounded sufficiently casual, BARCA interrupted with a soft ping. A marker appeared near the edge of the HUD. Pulling a familiar name from the stored dossiers that was provided to her as Quinn’s security. Taeli Raaf . CT-312’s attention lifted toward the approaching stall containing twill and silks. She stared carefully at the arranged fabrics for a moment before BARCA helpfully displayed several price tags. Her helmet tilted a fraction as she blinked. Those were certainly numbers. CT-312 looked toward Quinn, then toward Taeli Raaf… then back to the silk. The Scout briefly wondered if this person may have been one of the influences behind the Princess’s shopping habits.

A memory of Drystan Creed nearly vanishing beneath more shopping bags than one person should reasonably have been expected to carry. Letting out a quiet amused huff to herself, good old paper. CT-312 remembered the rock-paper-scissors match that had him accompanying the Princess in her place during the shopping spree. CT-312’s visor faced towards Quinn. “Would you like to take a look?” Her gloved hand raised in front towards the stall of twill and silks.