Faction Fondor Rises

[Jordar Varcskel]

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The trip from Geonosis was a long one and Jordar had been reading every scrap of information on Fondor he could find before he arrived. The appointment was sudden, CIS brass needed somebody to take over the administration of Fondor and for some unknown reason they had chosen him. He was no longer thinking of that a the moment though as he was fast asleep as the shuttle came out of hyperspace he felt the sudden jolt and opened his eyes, straightening up and peering out the window he got his first look at Fondor the planet was for all intents and purposes a giant city run by automated factories and droids. As the shuttle pierced the atmosphere he ran his hand through his hair brushing it back and at the same time scratched at the beard on his chin and let out a long weary sigh as he leaned over peering out the window, now he knew why they sent him, Fondor was in disrepair and outdated and needed to be revitalized a fixer upper if you will.​

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The shuttle weaved in and out of the cooling towers and various refineries, research labs and factories before finally coming in to land at the administrative building. Jordar began to gather his things and stood up walking toward the hatch at the back of the shuttle, the ramp lowered and he walked out with a few battle droids walking a short distance behind him. He had insisted he hadn't needed them but it was an argument he lost. Taking a deep breath he looked around the landing platform there were all manner of droids busily working, he began walking toward what would now be his office and wondered what surprises were waiting for him.​

Tag: John Locke | Alban Roble | Open

 

[Xazzex Xivar]

Don't even get Xazzex started on how or why Falleen joined this merry band of evil do-gooders.

There was one -- one -- saving grace when it came to being conscripted into the Confederacy. Droids. They were logical, dutiful, and didn't bore you to tears talking about the most inane of topics. Who cared if pirates haunted some backwater desert planet? Someone finally found a use for the ball of dirt. Congratulations. By comparison, droids wouldn't complain about scrubbing the floor -- they'd scrub the floor.

Except for certain models. Oh, there were some droids that were worse than organics. At least you could find some decent members of most cultures. When it came to droid models, however, they were so alike you knew at a glance which one you were going to end up hating. Thankfully, none of those were around today. With any luck they'd be foisted on some nameless Viceroy in a region of space Xazzex had no interest in.

Slowly the green woman pushed herself away from the crates she'd leaned up against. The forearm holonet-accessing brace dimmed as Xazzex's eyes strayed from it and her arm lowered to her side. There hadn't been anyone worth talking to on the planet until now. The newly appointed Viceory of Fondor had arrived. Emphasis on newly appointed. Just because she disliked being a permanent member of the Confederacy didn't mean Xazzex wasn't interested in filling Falleen's coffers with the bounties of worth-while systems.

Might as well exploit what was given to you.

"Viceroy Varcskel. Welcome to Fondor. I'm Viceroy Xivar. Falleen." You know, in case the man was blind. Unlikely one of her species would end up stuck representing on some cesspool. Not that Fondor was a cesspool. Not yet. Time would tell whether it'd regain its glory. "I understand you've been recently appointed to tend to the planet. It could use someone with an ambitious vision willing to do what it takes. Perhaps I can help." Others might offer their services as well -- not that she cared about that. Perhaps she'd introduce the man to a few, however; after all, Falleen didn't possess every resource in abundance. Though they certainly sought to establish relations so every resources was readily available.

Tag: Jordar Varcskel | John Locke | Alban Roble | Open

 

[Malich Frey]

Fondor, a world of droids. It had been the limitless uses of droids that had inspired Frey to join the Confederacy, yet upon his arrival to Fondor he couldn't shake the unease he felt. He had been greeted by droids, valeted by droids, and every worker at the spaceport had been a droid save for a handful of overseers that would likely never cross paths with him. It was nice to finally see the face and hear the voice of a living being, which came in the form of the new Viceroy of Fondor and the Viceroy of Falleen. The viceroy of Falleen was in the midst of introducing herself to the newest viceroy, and Frey figured it was as good a time as any to also make his introductions.

"Jordar Varcskel?" Frey said approaching the man and his entourage from steps of the administrative building. seeking a handshake. "I'm Malich Frey, I've been sent to represent the judiciary of the Confederacy during the construction of your administration. Hopefully you will have little need of my services, but there will always be issues that arise during the transfer of power. I am fully at your disposal viceroy." Frey did a light bow before the viceroys and entered the entourage behind them.

As Frey moved along behind the viceroys, he gazed across the skyline of the city. Cold, calculated, unfeeling. He hoped the planet's new administrator did not share any of the city's qualities.

Tags: Jordar Varcskel | Xazzex Xivar

 

[Alban Roble]

Jordar Varcskel | Xazzex Xivar | Malich Frey | John Locke ​

Alban had been taught by his father to be proud of his heritage as a Fondor native. The skills of a starshipwright were literally in his blood, his father was fond of saying as he tried to instill some of the corporate peragoratives and business tactics so that his son could one day run Roble Manufacturing. In those days, Alban had been somewhat of a helpless teenager and it'd been doubtful that the boy would ever be able to handle the task of his father's small, yet respected firm. In spite of that, sobering up had allowed Alban to harness his true potential as a businessman, manufacturer and designer. There was no better physical evidence of that than the fact that the Confederacy's newest mainline Star Destroyer had been designed and made by Roble Manufacturing. In the economic sector, for now, Alban felt secure that there was something greater than just a small fortune to be made.

Yet what had blindsided him was the sudden political shift that had taken over Fondor in the past couple of days. The shipyard world had always been known for its independent streak, similar to planets like Corellia, another world known for its ship manufacture industry. Alban was no stranger to that sense of nationalism, and felt pride in the fact that he had been born and raised on Fondor; for the most part, he was sure that the civilian population felt pretty much the same ways. When it had been announced that the Bassadro Sector Armada would be headquartered on Fondor, led and administered by an Arkanis native, the reception had not been particularly negative mainly owing to the fact that in terms of administration, the Confederacy Defense Force held little power. Fondor had retained its self-identity and sense of uniqueness, and had even gained an ear into the military that seemed to be paying off with this recent modernization bid.

Yet, when it had suddenly been announced that a complete outsider would be taking over the Viceroyalty delegation from Fondor, it had been quite the political scandal. Local holonews commentators were on the verge of outrage, calling it a bare violation of Fondor's sovereignty within the Confederacy. Extremists had even called for secession, but they were few and far in between. For Alban's part, his opinion on the new Viceroyal was somewhat reserved. Alban was a businessman, and a stranger to the political scheme. He preferred a government that left him alone to his company and market, but even he couldn't ignore what the possible ramifications of an outsider representing Fondor could mean for the planet, positives and negatives. However, despite all of this turmoil, Alban was fortunately a rationale adult. And like a rationale adult, he decided to greet this new Viceroyal and develop his own opinion before he joined in with the torches and pitchforks.

"HANS, do you got any information on this guy? Background, administrator experience, anything that can give me an idea of what to expect?" Alban said into a discreet earpiece as his shuttle wove through the industrial city skyline. HANS was the artificial intelligence that Alban had developed for assistance in design, to have as a corporate advisor and in some cases, to simply be his companion. Alban wasn't exactly the social, partying personality that he had been in his teenage years, and there were many nights when HANS was the only interaction Alban had with another being.

"Confederacy archives do not hold much information on Viceroy Varcskel, unfortunately. The best I can gather is that he was some bureaucrat in Golbah City before being appointed as Viceroy, and on who authorized that I can not say. I could slice into classified Confederacy archives, but that might take more time than we have," HANS replied. For whatever reason, Alban had given the intelligence a Coruscanti accent, one that had been deemed to be the 'proper' manner of speaking by many famed linguists in the galaxy. It did sound rather proper, but clashed somewhat with Alban's native Fondoran accent.

"That, and the fact that it's highly illegal for a private citizen to do so," Alban replied sardonically, barely louder than a mutter under his breath.

"Quite right, sir," the artificial intelligence politely responded before leaving Alban once more to his thoughts. Dawn was breaking over this portion of Fondor, and the shining sun cast magnificent rays through the tall skyscrapers, warehouses and corporate buildings that sat at the top of Fondor's ecumenpolis. The shuttle that Alban was flying in was a standard one of diplomatic make, not suited for space travel and stamped with the simple logo of Roble Manufacturing. As the spires around him began to resemble those of the Administrative District, Alban vowed that the first priority when he returned would be to manufacturer an official company shuttle.

It was only a couple of minutes before the shuttle touched down on the landing pad next to the one of the Viceroyal's, but even from the windows of the shuttle Alban could make out the small retinue that was beginning to form. He muttered a soft curse word under his breath as he felt the landing gear of the shuttle extend. He'd not met many of them, but he did not have any particular love for a gaggle of bureaucrats. Sucking in his breath, he composed his face into one of a dispassionate, yet amiable businessman that he so often displayed. Time to play his part.

Stepping out into the sunlight, he quickly identified the new Viceroyal from the dossier image that had been circulated around the holonews for the past couple of days. The other two, however, were strangers to him; one a Falleen, and the other a man wearing a formal suit. Somehow, he could sense that they were probably both tied into the politics of government much like the new Viceroy. Walking up to them, Alban's face shifted into a charitable smile before he extended a hand to shake that of the new Viceroy. "Jordar Varcskel, I am Alban Roble, Director of Roble Manufacturing and council member of the Fondor Starshipwrights Guild. I wanted to be the first to welcome our honored Viceroyal to Fondor," he said, maintaining his rather genuine smile. Turning to the man and woman besides him, he offered the same charitable grin. "And you two are?" he said, looking first at the Falleen before his eyes settled on the taller man besides her.

 

[John Locke]

Location: Fondor
Wearing: This
Objective: Greet the new Viceroy
Tagging: Alban Roble | Malich Frey | Xazzex Xivar | Jordar Varcskel ​

There were few planets in the Confederacy that the weight of a name bore as rich a history as Fondor did. Both as a site of battles that had shaped the political makeup of the galaxy, but also of production. Fondor had long been known as a centre of research and production, a hub for the surrounding sectors. In all, a planet of estimable importance. It had long been a hub of the Confederacy, a place where companies and manufactures, academics and researchers could gather to find a home, could find like-minded people to work with, or work against.

That was perhaps why John had avoided the planet for so long, why he kept his major operations away from all the well-known locations in the galaxy. Dark eyes flicked to the side, staring out over Fondor City, at the millions of twinkling lights that spread out as far as the eye could see. There was talent here, there was potential and competition, the kind that could be used to sharpen your edge and drive you to the limits of your capabilities. But…what would that do to a company that made a habit of dancing on the cutting edge? That had always been John’s fear, that had always been his modus operendi, to focus on the lesser-known planets, those places not known for their industrial powerhouses and develop his facilities there. It had brought him benefits far beyond his expectations. The planetary governments were more than happy to provide incentives to his company, but in the end it came down to the people who worked for him. An Ecumenopolis like Fondor, provided facilities but there was no greenery, no nature. No real quality of life. An experienced researcher or engineer with a family, why would they choose a corporate built up world when the greenery of Naboo, the peaceful cities of Commenor were available to them?

It was a strategy that had allowed John to snipe some of the most experienced employees available, not just appealing to them but to their entire families.

Now though, now things were different. While it might not be his focus, the man couldn’t afford not to be involved in the planet, to do less would be failing the shareholders and workers who depended on the company.

Which was why he was here.

What better time to get involved in a planet, to set up a new facility here than the arrival of a new governor. Besides, given his role in the Confederacy, if he hadn’t volunteered to come, the Vicelord or one of the Exarchs would probably have demanded it. So here he was joining the welcome party.

“Viceroy Xivar and Mr Frey, Mr Roble. Here to help the new viceroy settle in no doubt.”

Dark eyes glowed momentarily silver as John accessed the database, information sprawling across his vision. There were many downsides to being as heavily cyberized as he was, the loss of senses, the stares that found their way towards him. The ability to access databases instantly and process the information required, that wasn’t something he could find himself regretting. A small smile turned up John’s lips as he turned towards the man of the hour.

“Viceroy Varaskel, I’m Minister Locke, CEO of Locke and Key Mechanics and The Confederacy Minister of Science. It’s a pleasure to meet you and welcome you to your new world.”

 

[Jordar Varcskel]

Jordar had looked back ahead of him and sighed inwardly as he saw the group of people ahead of him, of course he would not even make it to his office before the politics began. He despised politics perhaps that is why he was picked, frankly he didn’t know or care as to how are why at this point, he was here so he would play the game just like they knew he would. He took stock of the motley crew before him, a fellow Viceroy a pair of businessmen and a lawyer, sounded like the beginnings of a bad joke to him but at once he came to a stop in front of the group and offered a warm smile before extending his hand to each of them in turn.

“Director Robell, I am pleased to meet you I am sure we will be getting to know each other quite well. I thank you for the welcome, I am sure such and appointment did not go over well with most Fondorians. Be that as it may, I think we can do great things here.” it might have sounded more ominous than he meant it, but with that he turned to John next “Mr. Locke, of course pleased to make your acquaintance, and thank you for the welcome” he firmly shook his hand before turning to the other Viceroy and extending his hand “Viceroy, thank you for the visit as well. I am sure there will be plenty of opportunity to improve things on Fondor. Both for the good of Fondor and the Confederacy.”

With that he turned to the last man and would have shook his hand but he moved to stand behind him he shook his head slightly and spoke “Thank you Malich” he then turned to look back at the group. “Well then, rather than stand around in a hangar lets head to my office and see if we have some better accommodations to talk. I do not know about the rest of you, but I would like to sit down and have a drink. That is if none of you have pressing business elsewhere?” his gaze looked between the Viceroy and the two businessmen he would give them a polite out if they wanted it he was only interested in those who would truly hear him out and not simply attempt to sway him like he was some impressionable child, he abhorred politics but that did not mean that he couldn’t play the game.

Tag: John Locke | Alban Roble | Malich Frey | Xazzex Xivar

 

[Xazzex Xivar]

Malich Frey. Representing the Judiciary. Just what a Falleen business woman would want -- a Confederate law-minded bureaucrat. Did these people just know when to show up to ruin a good deal? Perhaps that man from Vylmira -- Voph -- would show up as well and be the Confederate's greatest Dark Knight? Much as she could respect him for actually having and exemplifying values, they were not ones that favored Xazzex getting what she wanted.

Fortunately, Frey seemed content to remain in the shadows for the time being. Still, she would have to play word games far more than she would like in his presence.

While she didn't bother to track another ship angling on approach nearby, Xazzex lamented the lack of intrusion that had seemed so promosing only a few seconds ago. A one-on-one engagement would have gone faster, smoother, and with far fewer unnecessary 'games.' It was difficult to say if the person that soon invited themselves to the gathering was for better or worse, however. They weren't a Viceroy. In fact, Xazzex knew this one's face; and his presence was surprisingly appropriate. Perhaps this could be used as an opportunity...

"Falleen Viceroy Xivar." Unlike Alban's upbeat introduction, Xazzex didn't bother grinning like an idiot or sounding like she wanted to be the man's bestest friend ever. The Humans said you attracted more flies with honey... Xazzex had no interest in attracting pests. Either a person could recognize an opportunity when the Falleen offered it, or they could not; and she didn't have time for those too slow to keep up.

The next person to show up uninvited was someone else Xazzex knew. It would be unwise not to even if they had nothing to do with Fondor. And like Voph, however, this one was a staple of the Confederacy. Someone that could be respected even if they were certain to limit certain opportunities. Idealists. Believers in The Cause. Meanwhile, the Falleen only believed in their selves. Conflicts were inevitable.

With the parade of introductions over with -- for now, at any rate -- Jordar himself had a chance to talk. The order was not ideal, but Xazzex could recognize why it would be necessary. Recognize the local first, the faction-wide star second, and then herself. She would simply need to change the man's mind as to how important Falleen could be for Fondor.

The Viceroy of Falleen reached out to take Jordar's hand when he extended it. As to whether their actions might improve things for the Confederacy... well, she'd consider that a happy accident.

Jordar's attempt to shake himself loose of those around him was admirable, if only effective for the weak-minded. Anyone lacking commitment to see their approach through deserved to be left out in the cold. Wasting time sitting around sharing a drink was typical -- and something she enjoyed dispensing with whenever she could convince someone to come to her instead. "Sounds fun." With that Xazzex did smile, and her tone managed to not be devoid of life and emotion; but neither was it upbeat, cheery, excited, or warm. In fact it might even be sarcastic, but well on the side of uncertainty.

Tag: John Locke | Alban Roble | Malich Frey | Jordar Varcskel