Junction Episode I: Shadows of The Mara Corridor | RNR & BSS Junction of Mara Mega Hex & Drogheda

[Briana Sal-Soren]

​

EPISODE I: SHADOWS OF THE MARA CORRIDOR

The unity that only recently forged the SOUTHERN SYSTEMS ALLIANCE, falters in the face of catastrophe.

The mysterious PLANESHIFT event that rendered star charts useless, broke once reliable hyperlanes, and plunged stable sectors into chaos, has brought about instability and uncertainty for the future of the SOUTHERN SYSTEMS, which grows more precarious by the day. Under the continued strain of diplomatic differences between the ROYAL NABOO REPUBLIC and THE CONFEDERACY OF INDEPENDENT SYSTEMS, mounting challenges plague both governments in ways they could never have foreseen…

OBJECTIVE ONE: Sand Dollars
Suggested Characters: RIB Agents, Corpos, Black Sun Vigos, Syndicate Enforcers, CIS Intelligence

In the MARA CORRIDOR, ROYAL NABOO INTELLIGENCE has reported on the rapid rise of the criminal organization known as the BLACK SUN SYNDICATE. Their reach into the South has become a developing concern for the ROYAL NABOO REPUBLIC after the discovery of a mining operation of PHRIK on TATOOINE, further disrupting the already fragile, and recently re-formed, trade lanes. In Mos Algo, RIB agents and Republic corporatists are granted uneasy access to meet with Black Sun’s MAJORDOMO, a fearsome Ubese known as Arcadian . Meanwhile, the Confederacy State Security has sent their covert operatives to wipe any incriminating data that can be traced back to the CIS.

OBJECTIVE TWO: Battle of Stalgasin Hive
Suggested Characters: RNR Starfighter Corps, Senators, Black Sun Boarders, Pirates, CIS Ground Forces

On the Confederate world of GEONOSIS, a brutal CIVIL WAR between STALGASIN HIVE and a local rebellion has finally come to a head. The Stalgasin Archduke crushed a massive fleet of enemy COLONY SHIPS in orbit, preventing any hope of escape for his enemy. Now, with the aid of the CONFEDERATE ARMY, victory is within reach for Stalgasin. A Republic diplomatic mission has been sent to reason with President Vemric Keldra and ensure the Trifecta Concordat’s provisions are honored during the battle, as Confederate armed forces suppress final rebel holdouts. Overhead, pirates and salvagers of the BLACK SUN SYNDICATE have accepted a shadowy contract from the CIS to LOOT the derelict Geonosian ships… unbeknownst to the RNR FLEET. Believing them to be hostile and unable to reach Confederate command planetside through jammed comms, the RNR engages Black Sun in a deadly dogfight…

OBJECTIVE THREE: Ticket to Ride
Suggested Characters: Jedi, RIB Agents, Spacers Guild

Deep in the jungles of MONASTERY rests the TEMPLE OF THE SACRED CIRCLE, an ancient site full of valuable FORCE RELICS collected by the ORDER OF THE SACRED CIRCLE. Once protected by the Order, these artifacts are now under threat. The BLACK SUN SYNDICATE has infiltrated the temple and overwhelmed the Order. Crates and strongboxes full of Jedi and Sith relics have been moved from the temple grounds and loaded onto a MAGRAIL TRAIN barreling through the jungle to a heavily defended BLACK SUN OUTPOST. A daring HEIST is planned by the ORDER OF SHIRAYA and the REPUBLIC SPACERS GUILD to recover as many relics as possible before the train reaches its destination…​

OOC NOTE: If you write an action in your objective that may affect the entire group, please add a spoiler to your post with the action taken for ease of reference. Thanks, and enjoy!

 

[Nihil]

SHADOWS OF THE MARA CORRIDOR
Misty - Chapter 1
———
TAG: Eight | Victra Rinnel

TIME MOVES SLOW​

ROTHANA

Tension has been extra high in the small yet futuristic CSS base somewhere in Rothana. Nihil has been in contact with his assets in the Black Sun Syndicate. He is furious. The Tatooine phrik mining operation, which is partly owned by Confederacy's own Grell Noba , has been discovered by the Royal Naboo Republic.

He managed to arrange a distraction to buy him time; an invitation for the Republic's representatives to meet Arcadian . But still, he has to act quickly and swiftly.

<Burn any evidence that could tie the Confederacy to the mining operations, and remain in the shadows. It is IMPERATIVE to make sure that the Republic cannot trace ANYTHING back to us, the regional geopolitical stability banks on that.>

Nihil addresses his two operatives via the holo. By now they are already halfway on their flight towards Tatooine. Equipped with unmarked armor and weapons, it is expected that even if they have to be caught in engagement, no one would identify them as Confederacy assets.

He had his subordinate brief them with the full details earlier, before their departure. Yet he feels the need to emphasise those specifically, personally, both to highlight the urgency, and to boost morale.

<Godspeed.>​

​

 

[Jerec Asyr]

OBJECTIVE THREE: Ticket to Ride
Suggested Characters: Jedi, RIB Agents, Spacers Guild

Deep in the jungles of MONASTERY rests the TEMPLE OF THE SACRED CIRCLE, an ancient site full of valuable FORCE RELICS collected by the ORDER OF THE SACRED CIRCLE. Once protected by the Order, these artifacts are now under threat. The BLACK SUN SYNDICATE has infiltrated the temple and overwhelmed the Order. Crates and strongboxes full of Jedi and Sith relics have been moved from the temple grounds and loaded onto a MAGRAIL TRAIN barreling through the jungle to a heavily defended BLACK SUN OUTPOST. A daring HEIST is planned by the ORDER OF SHIRAYA and the REPUBLIC SPACERS GUILD to recover as many relics as possible before the train reaches its destination…

Jerec stood on the roof of the front of the train, big wide Ithorian feet planted firmly. He was holding his raw, bruised knuckles to the cold wind and grinning out both sides of his neck. Some Sacred Circle-ish numbskull, currently running around the jungle beat to pulp and soaked in sewage to the neck of his formal robes, had thoughtfully donated his lightsaber to the Black Sun cause. The saber was much nicer than Jerec's, which he'd left at home.

Other than the freshly purloined saber, Jerec's only weapon of choice was a classic pre-Naboo-respectability Spacer Guild scan dart launcher.

The wind rippled in his neck. He filled his lungs and sighed contentedly. What a great day.

PARDNER: Lossa Aureus

 

[Rel Ahn-Dross]

OBJECTIVE THREE: Ticket to Ride
Bloodeater | TBR
Briana Sal-Soren
​

The Temple lay behind them now.

The Magrail Train ripped ahead at a momentous speed, dozens of cars stretching back behind the locomotive. As the train passed, lead by a magnetic rail the jungle whipped to either side of it. Many of the cars had slits instead of windows, all of them were heavily armored incase of attack due to the precious cargo they were carrying.

He stood inside one of the front cars, near the locomotive. Behind him, in any one of the boxcars were strongboxes and crates filled with artifacts that the Black Sun had claimed as their own.

A Goliath of a man with broad shoulders, standing over many in his company his expression seemed dour. He wore a long coat that fell past his knees, concealing what lay underneath. An axe, large and foreboding was clutched in his right hand and hung low, level with his hip; it radiated with the eldritch magic of the force. A Gift from his sister, Senar Ahn-Dross who'd made it potent with her command of Dathomir spells.

An Affiliate of the Syndicate, an Enforcer; only Rel knew what had brought him here in the service of these men and the underworld.

As the train zipped along the path created for it by the rail he stood near one of the slats lining the traincar.

Peering out he watched the jungle, as it blurred on the sidelines it was impossible to know what was coming.

 

[Kaia Starchaser]

Kaia was more than happy to be here. A small wormhole from Xelec opened up near Monastery and she took it. She knew she'd get back. Her father and Stars of Hope were operating out of the Holey System and it was as good a place as any for the Dawn Chaser to be based out of. Safe for the students and a great shadow port.

Her ship had entered the system and she had two goals here. Locate on of the Compasses, and help re establish some form of connection along the Mara Corridor.

Mara, like her father, was one of those people Kaia looked up to. Not that her and her father were too shabby at navigation either.

Yet it didn't quite matter. What she was seeing below her was a magtrain. Her IFF got her in touch with the Spacers Guild and that connected her to this job. Her harness and repair equipment replaced with a scomp, her lightsaber, and if needed, her fists. From her briefing the strong boxes were two cars up. Full of artifacts.

They belonged in a museum.

Or saved.

Just like her father would.

 

[Kudau]

Objective 3: Monastery

By all definitions, Kudau should not have been on the train. He had to shove himself in a large storage container when no one was looking, the space he squeezed into barely able to fit him. He didn't even understand the origins of the Jedi and Sith relics that surrounded him, not even understanding what they were until two minutes ago. He just knew it in the force that he had to be there, and despite everything, there he was. The train was moving quickly now, likely close to full speed. His container was one of many inside the

He calmly concentrated, relying on his hearing to see if anyone was outside of his hiding space, waiting to make sure he was alone before revealing himself. He could feel the force ebbing and flowing around him. There were powerful ripples in the force from both artifacts and people on the train, and he knew that if he made a wrong move, he would have to face a world of hurt.

Bastila Sal-Soren

 

[Vestra Tane]

Objective: Ticket to Ride
Equipment: On This Page
Adversary: Yasima Zyntra

Vestra flexed her new right hand, focusing on it for a moment as a synthskin covered finger traced the seal on a crate full of "Forbidden" Sith relics. She figured losing the original would've felt worse - emotionally, anyway. Hurt a whole Force-damned lot when it happened, thank you very much.

Ah, well - she could ponder the loss of her flesh more later. Currently she was much more interested in the haul. She continued tracing the edge of the crate until she felt the catch for the seal, and, click. And then she let herself breathe, for a second.

Vestra was, theoretically, supposed to be on bookkeeping duty for this job - nevermind the couple of antiquarians she'd shot in the knees earlier - and for her, that meant hands on work with a bunch of ancient rocks and amulets that might very well house, she didn't know, Smoke Demons, or angry Sith ghosts.

It was great work, if you could get it, but it wasn't without its risks.

She coiled a surprisingly delicate chain between jet-black fingers, and brought the amulet it bore up to her face. In her other hand, she clicked a button helpfully labeled RECORD on a cheap datapad.

"Artistry is Vong inspired. Sith, obviously. If I had to guess...One Sith, circa 840? Hasn't exploded in my hand, tried to possess me, or turned me into a Sithspawn yet, so." She sighed, then, and let down the walls of entirely-justified fear that had been guarding her mind. Free, she probed at the artefact and spoke through gritted teeth. "Primary resonance is rage. Remembering all the things I hated about my ex right now. Noting for study later."

 

[Arcadian]

Tags:

[Black Sun] OPEN​

[RNR] OPEN​

[CIS] Eight | Nihil | Victra Rinnel​

Objective 1: Sand Dollars
Location: Mos Algo, Tatooine

“Fething Royals,” Arcadian spat as he watched the chromium finish of a Royal Naboo starship gleam under the twin suns that hung over Tatooine. He looked to Avra Dokaar, the Mara Corridor’s Vigo and de facto head of the Mos Algo operation - one that should have been kept under wraps from snooping Republic scouts.

“Think it’s trouble?” the crustacean pondered aloud. Cade shook his head.

“No. The Royals are just pissing against the fence, trying to see if the electricity is on. They won’t find anything. Our ‘records’ are complete. ‘Taxes’ are paid. Everything is in order.”

He turned to face her, glaring through the tinted visor that ran horizontally across his helmet. She must have sensed the tension, because she glanced away, looking to the two-story hostel that served as Mos Algo’s command post.

“The Confederates are liquidating any questionable assets,” she explained.

Arcadian nodded. He watched the Naboo ship with interest, arms crossed as he stood on the edge of the mining settlement. “The first sign of trouble-“ he went to say, but Avra was already on the same page.

“There won’t be any trouble,” she assured.

 

[Bastila Sal-Soren]

Spoiler

OBJECTIVE THREE: Ticket to Ride
Suggested Characters: Jedi, RIB Agents, Spacers Guild

Deep in the jungles of MONASTERY rests the TEMPLE OF THE SACRED CIRCLE, an ancient site full of valuable FORCE RELICS collected by the ORDER OF THE SACRED CIRCLE. Once protected by the Order, these artifacts are now under threat. The BLACK SUN SYNDICATE has infiltrated the temple and overwhelmed the Order. Crates and strongboxes full of Jedi and Sith relics have been moved from the temple grounds and loaded onto a MAGRAIL TRAIN barreling through the jungle to a heavily defended BLACK SUN OUTPOST. A daring HEIST is planned by the ORDER OF SHIRAYA and the REPUBLIC SPACERS GUILD to recover as many relics as possible before the train reaches its destination…​

The train’s underfloor hum was like a distant storm trapped beneath her boots; Bastila, who had managed to infiltrate the train while it had been loading at the Monastery Temple, moved low and tight against the wall, her silhouette sliding through shadow as she made her way through yet another carriage of crates and empty cages. She slid beneath one of the narrow carriage windows, outside the jungle was a blur of dark green and coloured streaks a vast contrast to the inside where the metal was matched with silence, broken only by the occasional clatter of loose chain or shifting crate.

She had already counted four guards through the rear carriages, they were pirate’s for sure but the operation was now seeming more put together, bigger and professional then the group she had been tracking. Three were unconscious, stuffed into crates but one had tried to draw on her. He wouldn’t be doing that again.

Bastila paused beside a stack of scorched storage containers, full of things stolen from the temple, but she couldn’t make out the markings on the box, there were some unknown serial markings, but that didn’t help really. That churned something low in her chest, She reached out and gently brushed a finger over one. So far this hunt had been about information and small time criminals, the scale of this train, the sheer amount of manpower. She’d stumbled into something far more then she had been expecting.

That’s why she had sent the emergency code, an active alert to all Order members within vicinity for aid. It wasn’t used for often, but a train full of Force Relics being moved by some unknown force. Bastila took her chances.

The Force pulsed around her, it was as wild as the jungle outside, with a hint of taint by a spreading darkness. Whatever was going on here was dangerous.

She moved again. Quick. Silent.

The next door hissed open only after she rewired the panel. The older carriages were magnetic-locked, but not complicated. She slipped inside and found nothing but more crates and...

Reflexes and instinct hit and she turned fast towards a storage unit in the corner of the carriage. Nothing. She was getting jumpy now, her nerves on edge.

She ducked low, and started to make her way down the carriage.

Silence mixed with that soft pull at the edge of her conciousness again. Her eyes moved back to the storage unit.

She pulled her eyes away when a low beep-beep came from her bracelet.

A holographic symbol of a shuttle appeared in a low blue glow, one of the order. Help had arrived. Hopefully.

She clicked her response unit on. “This is Bastila Sal-Soren. I am active on the train, be aware that there is heavy resistance. There are relics in motion.” A beep signalled that her message had been received. Yet she couldn’t help it, her eyes moved back to the storage box. Her hand reached for her saber…

Kudau
Lorn Reingard [For purposes of timing]

​

 

[Ala Quin]

Objective 3: Ticket to Ride - Plan: Stop the Train​

The drop ship howled just above the emerald canopy of Monastery’s rainforest, its repulsors tearing moisture from the mist-drenched air. The massive ring of the planet hung pale in the skies above them, eerie, like a watchful eye. Below, the magrail sliced through the jungle like a silver scar as it wound through gnarled growth, jagged cliffs, and the dangerous glimmer of Crystal Valley in the distance.

Ala stood near the edge of the open hatch, goggles perched on her head, curls whipping around her cheeks. She held onto the ceiling bar with one hand, her other resting lightly on her belt. She tilted toward Balun with a crooked grin.

“You know,” she shouted over the roar of the wind, “I was going to ease you into this Jedi Master...Padawan thing with, you know, tea and moral philosophy. But I guess clinging to a speeding train over a jungle full of saber cats and explosive crystals works too.”

She gave him a wink, then pulled her goggles down over her eyes with both hands and cinched the strap tighter. The ship shuddered as it matched velocity with the train. The scenery was a kaleidoscope of motion, giant ferns, crystalline spires, bursts of steam from fissures in the jungle floor. Monastery was alive, and utterly unpredictable.

“Comms on?” A crackle confirmed Balun’s mic was active.

Ala turned serious, briefly placing a hand to his chest over his heart. “Stay anchored. Breathe. Trust the Force, and trust your grip.”

A second later, the signal light above the hatch turned green. She jumped.

The air hit them like a landslide. Ala’s stomach pitched as boots struck durasteel, knees bending to absorb the landing. She gritted her teeth and slammed her anchor claw into the roof plating. A magnetic tether auto-locked. The drop ship peeled away above them like a ghost.

The wind tore at her curls. She unnecessarily held her breath beneath her mask. She crawled forward, gripping the handheld ascender, which latched into the roof’s riveted ridges and ratcheted forward with a hydraulic pull. Around them, the rainforest blurred by in streaks of verdant green and volcanic red, mist shivering in the train’s wake.

“Balun,” she called into the comm, “Welcome to fieldwork.” Her smile was audible.

Up ahead, a service hatch marked their point of entry.

| Outfit: Order of Shiraya Uniform | Tag: Balun Dashiell @Vo1d | Equipment: Dual yellow lightsabers, commlink |​

 

[Ariadne]

OBJECTIVE TWO: Battle of Stalgasin Hive - Plan: Steal Stuff for the Boss
​

The hull cracked open with a sigh. The boarding crew filtered into the derelict vessel (ironically) like insects, flickering lights dancing over chitin-lined walls and ruptured corridors. Most were loud, grunting oafs that muttered filthy jokes in five languages. But she was silent. Sharp. Watching.

Ariadne said nothing as the boarding officer barked instructions. She moved like a phantom between the crates and carcasses, her mechanical arm faintly humming beneath black gloves. She scanned nothing. Marked no loot. The rest were here to steal what glittered. She was here for what rotted.

The moment the team split into compartments, she peeled away. No word. No hesitation. Just a turn down an unlit service tunnel, and she was gone. The dark swallowed her.

---

Geonosian architecture was organic with curved walls, pulsating resin, ossified spires now broken open like insect husks. The only light came from the stuttering of her retinal implant and the glimmer of bio-luminescent mold along the walls. Her boots made no sound.

She passed a dead crewmate slumped over a console, thorax split. Scavenger bite, maybe. Or something hungrier. She didn’t look.

Her data led her here to Command Spire Theta-9, last registered location of Ruukh'tai, a Geonosian architect. Likely now very dead. Rumors persisted that he held designs of interest her master. She didn't care to understand his machinations.

Ariadne reached the sealed door. Melted blast-weld. Not recent.

She pressed her palm to it. There was a sound like a breath held too long finally exhaling, and the door creaked open as the servos of her arm hummed.

| OUTFIT: Black Sun Enforcer Uniform | TAG: Roman Vossari |​

 

[Eleonore Zoltán]

|| SAND DOLLARS ||
Ambition - Chapter 1
———
OUTFIT: Dress
TAG: Arcadian | Dominique Vexx

EVERYBODY WANTS TO RULE THE WORLD
​

MOS ALGO, TATOOINE

Everywhere she looks, she sees Jedi. Eleonore had confided in her inner circle; Alastair Zoltán, Hugo Montserrat, Giulia Palerma, and Emmerick Sŏl, when the Royal Court made the call for senators and corpos alike to meet the Majordomo of the Black Sun, Arcadian , in Mos Algo. Many expectedly outright refuse to participate; Mos Algo is known to be an isolated mining outpost, far from every known settlement, its surrounding infested by Tusken Raiders. The reputation of the enigmatic Majordomo only adds to the worries of others.

In fear Eleonore spotted opportunities. The question was always; does the risks worth the reward. She is, after all, the Duchess Regent of Ropagi II, with an heir still very young. Her untimely demise would mean that the family would lose significant control over the system, and that cannot happen in the increasingly hostile market competition across the Mara Corridor. Eventually, the decision was made, she is going. The Black Sun wouldn’t risk an open war with the Republic, not with the current galactic political landscape.

The entourage arrives in Mos Algo in their silver Naboo starship. The twin sun of Tatooine shone bright, welcoming the delegates to the wicked outpost of Mos Algo. Dust from the mining operations solemnly passed through the wind. Eleonore had dressed to the occasion today, yet the climate is still very oppressive to her senses.

Eleonore is curious, what kind of welcome are they going to receive. There’s a reason the Black Sun is granting them an access to Mos Algo, to their Majordomo. And she’s there to figure out why.​

 

[Balun Dashiell]

OBJECTIVE 3: Ticket to Ride - Plan: Stop the Train
INVENTORY: Spacer Apparel, K-16 Bryar Pistol & Lightsaber
OPPOSITION: V01D Ω (Void Omega)
ALLIES: Ala Quin

“You know,” she shouted over the roar of the wind, “I was going to ease you into this Jedi Master...Padawan thing with, you know, tea and moral philosophy. But I guess clinging to a speeding train over a jungle full of saber cats and explosive crystals works too.”

"I suppose that's one of the perks of mentoring someone like me," Balun remarked, a crooked, self-aware smirk tugging at the corner of his mouth as he leaned over the edge of the troop deck. Wind whipped past them in powerful currents, tugging at his coat as he eyed the silver blur of the train slicing through the dense jungle canopy below. "I've done the groundwork already. We can skip the handholding." His voice carried a casual ease, but there was a quiet intensity in his eyes—a testament to the life he had already led by the age of twenty-three. Soldier. Survivor. Student of the Force.

He turned slightly, lifting a gloved hand to signal his Master. "Comm's active," he added, raising a thumb toward Ala Quin in case his words had been lost to the roar of the wind.

Without hesitation, he reached to unclip the magnetic anchor from his harness. The mechanism clicked into place with a satisfying snap. His gear, unlike traditional Jedi robes, was a fusion of rugged spacer attire and subtle combat-grade armour, a hybrid of fashion, function, and personal history. The flexible plating beneath his jacket was designed more for high-speed collisions and low-orbit boarding ops than lightsaber duels, but now it would be tested in the field for something wild and new: boarding a high-speed train mid-mission to intercept a criminal cartel trafficking Force-sensitive artifacts.

As Ala stepped forward, cloak billowing behind her, Balun moved to the edge. His heart thumped once, loud, steady. 'Trust in the Force', he reminded himself, the mantra barely more than breath against the storm.

Then she jumped.

He watched her descend in a controlled fall, vanishing into the blur below. Without hesitation, he turned back toward the cockpit, fingers gripping the ledge. "Boots on target. Pull back to the fleet and standby for extraction," he shouted, his voice cutting through the rush. "Good luck out there!"

Then he jumped too.

The wind roared past his ears as gravity yanked him toward the train. The rooftop rushed up with terrifying speed. Impact. His legs buckled on contact, the momentum too much to brace for. He hit the roof hard, rolling instinctively as the motion of the train tried to toss him like loose cargo. His right hand snapped outward, slamming the magnetic anchor into the plating just in time. The tether hissed and spun through the harness at his belt—then jerked him back with brutal force, halting his slide with a spine-jarring snap.

"Ugh," he grunted, the sound somewhere between relief and regret. "Definitely not my most graceful entrance."

Pushing himself upright, he winced, brushing the dust and soot from his sleeves. His gaze swept the length of the train ahead, searching for a glimpse of his Master.

Adjusting the earpiece and thumbing the commlink embedded in his collar, he gave a breathless update. "Still alive. We can proceed."

With that, Balun began his cautious advance across the rooftop. Shoulders hunched and balance low, he braced himself against the wind and the rhythmic vibration of the train as it thundered beneath his boots—each step taking him closer to the mission, and whatever lay ahead.

"Speech".
'Thought'.

 

[U40a]

OBJECTIVE THREE: Ticket to Ride
Suggested Characters: Jedi, RIB Agents, Spacers Guild

Deep in the jungles of MONASTERY rests the TEMPLE OF THE SACRED CIRCLE, an ancient site full of valuable FORCE RELICS collected by the ORDER OF THE SACRED CIRCLE. Once protected by the Order, these artifacts are now under threat. The BLACK SUN SYNDICATE has infiltrated the temple and overwhelmed the Order. Crates and strongboxes full of Jedi and Sith relics have been moved from the temple grounds and loaded onto a MAGRAIL TRAIN barreling through the jungle to a heavily defended BLACK SUN OUTPOST. A daring HEIST is planned by the ORDER OF SHIRAYA and the REPUBLIC SPACERS GUILD to recover as many relics as possible before the train reaches its destination…

U40a, known at Euphortia, was a music droid belonging to Black Sun. As Jedi began to board the train, U40a, safe-ish in the engine compartment, put on some appropriate music at maximum possible volume.

Spoiler

Euphortia has begun playing 'Velocity' by Cirith Ungol through every speaker on the train.

 

[Atius Hanno]

Objective 3: Ticket to Ride | Protection (BSS Mercenary)
Inventory: Apollonius Armor, Hanno's vibro-ax, Verpine Shatterpistol

The MAGRAIL TRAIN burst along its scheduled route with alarming speed, and if not for Atius' meticulous attention to preparation, his ability to remain balanced amidst the crashing wind and changing force would be in doubt. ATIUS HANNO stood on the outer corridor of one of the train cars carrying the artifacts, his vibro-ax sturdy in his right hand as his helm searched the skies for intruders. His free hand gripped the rail as he continued his patrol, his boots clamping hard to the ground to keep the lumbering warlord steady.

His attention had been pulled suddenly. A reading of disturbances as intruders landed in quick succession. Increasing his gait, ATIUS had reached the door to the train car compartment with the speed of a long stride, almost yanking the door ajar as he ducked into the compartment. Crates were strewn about the interior, each protected by their own locks or mechanisms, some hastily done or forgotten. His HUD picked up nothing to warrant an alert posture, so he continued toward the next car.

Then, the sound of voices and a comlink. Beneath the helmet, the romanticist of blood and battle smiled.

TAG: Bastila Sal-Soren Kudau ​

 

[Trajan Fett]

F E T T
BOUNTY HUNTER
PERSONA NON GRATA
CONTRACT | BLACK SUN
THE BASTARD
Jek Raynar
OPEN

MATTER OF LEGACY​

The Bastard was silent, all external lights and power systems were blacked out, blanking on any sensors as it was adrift among the wreckage of the Geonosian vessels. To any untrained eye, it blended well with the scrap of xeno-tech hulks that were suspended in the field of wreckage above the world. Sat in the pilot's seat of the patrol craft, Trajan was still, a firm grasp of the control yoke as his other his smoothed along the power activation lever, eyes scanning the approach of the RNR task group assigned to stave off the Black Sun as they lurched upon the tattered hulks like starving buzzards.

As their fighters broke off and entered the cluttered wreckage, Trajan started his internal clock, setting the flailing hull of a particular corvette as his phase line. Once the first fighter crossed, his hand slammed down the power activation, the ship's systems thrumming to life with a flicker before the power generator thrummed with a pulse as its systems activated. His free hand quickly worked each relevant switch. Combat mode. Deflector screen front. Auxiliary weapon systems primed, the underslung weapons pod swinging into place from its mounting place to suspend beneath the starship.

He snapped the yoke to the right and kept the ship stilled among the wreckage. The formation passed another phase line and he activated a distress beacon, pressing the engines to full power as he flew in the direction of the approaching RNR vessels, the red distress light of his vessel alight in a rhythmic pattern that paired with the ship's distress signal.

He then grasped for a commlink, pressing it against the vessel's own communication system, activating it to play the recording of a man clearly in distress.

<"Ahhh dank ferrik- uhh, this is Captain Tarvin Kast of the Concordia Trade Alliance. I, uhh - I just got my systems back up...got hit by an ion cannon I'm headed outta here!"> The recording played before Trajan powered it down, his ship in full throttle toward the RNR vessels and wrenching back on the yoke to pass over them, his targeting system painting a cluster of five of them or so alight within the scope of his rear ordinance launcher. He flicked open the red button cover before pressing his thumb down unto it.

From the rear of his patrol craft, two twin doors hissed open for a seismic charge to plummet toward the RNR vessels.

A silence rolled through the wreckage field before a sudden and violent CRACK of the explosive rolled through the wreckage in a violent wave of seismic energy. He snapped at the yoke to turn his patrol craft back toward the RNR ships for an attack run, his rapid fire laser cannons wailing in a long rip of the weapons array.