Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

I've Gotta Feeling That Tonight Is Going To Be A Droid Night (GA Dominion of Abregado-Rae)

HK-36

The Iron Lord Protector (Neutral Good)
BJFP1bJ.png

8cf6be27b1624e50936cc1ba7e6a0550.png

Immediately follows the events of the Siege of Atrisia and Fall of Dominion


Aboard the Dancing Queen,

Abregado-Rae and Allies Fleets Heading Towards the Abregado System,


"Yeah, booooooi, we did it! Survived a Force Storm, a Lotek'k, and all the other crap they threw at us!"

The Supercarrier was teeming with festive mood as celebrations were already taking place by the survivors of Atrisian Incident, bridge crew were high-five'ing every few seconds, HK pulled out their celebratory limbo stick out of the storage, drinks have been distributed to off-duty troops who were heading towards the planet for the well deserved R&R. The spirits were high even in the med and engineering bay of the ship where wounded organic and mechanical troops alike recounted their tales of valor on the surface of Atrisia and in the orbit above its scarred and ruined soil.

"Sir, we will be exiting hyperspace soon, we have entered friendly territory."

HK's second in command informed him, the droid turned to her,

"Splendid, make sure the welcoming party will be ready, spare no expense."

"Aye-aye, sir!"



future_venice_canal_by_rusty001-d2yj54i.jpg

Objective A- Get Nerfed Up- Soon enough the fleet of ships would enter real space in orbit of Abregado with a flash of lights, the blue continental world gleaming against the vast darkness of the void, friendly ships still surrounding it, guarding it with heightened attention. Meanwhile, the surface of the planet was buzzing with activity, hearing of the victory in Atrisia against the Sith, further over exaggerated by the propaganda driven media system directly controlled by HK, crowds of people took to the streets in celebration, setting up spontaneous festivals. Masses of free sentient droids, the tall lanky Gados, and other species like Herglic, Wookiees, or bland vanilla humans would be waiting for the returning heroes along the canals of Abregado Capital City, ready to greet them with thunderous applause, cheers, and ticker tapes, the full business.

Those who wished to take it easy and celebrate their survival after the atrocities witnessed on Atrisia were free to mingle with the native acrobatic Gados and the free droids who make their home on the planet, explore the ancient cities recently revitalized during the Protectorate rule and subsequent leadership under HK, take part in the festivals and masquerades thrown just for them, go outside the city to take in the wilderness and interact with the local exotic fauna. Just do whatever you would do if you came back alive from the hellhole that was Atrisia. This offer would be of course extended to the allies who came to GA's help in the Coallition Willing To Kick Ass, [member="Joza Perl"], [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"], [member="Elpsis Elaris"], [member="Symara Tarriq"], [member="Draco Vereen"], [member="Taryc Ap'Irae"], [member="Faith Organa"].


volcano_by_andreewallin.jpg

Objective B- Clean Up Crew- Meanwhile in the orbit of Abregado industrial transport ships would be already forming along with the escort, construction droids being loaded into their hangars to move out back towards Atrisia and aid in its recovery. Just the same, the wounded Allied fleet brought to Abregado still had to be cared for, and although the spirits were high someone had to do it while everyone else partied. Not to mention the prisoners captured during the battle, [member="Darth Lykos"], [member="Seria Ventreme"] (If she ended up being captured and wants to make an appearance), [member="Desmond C'artyom"], now stripped from their armor and all weapons, even cybernetics, their wounds had to be taken care of as well, and there may have been some people who would wish to talk to them, [member="Adele Adonai"].

The humanitarian efforts for dealing with the wounded moved to Abregado's orbit and hospitals, perhaps a chance to develop new medical equipment or procedures, as well as planning out the clean-up efforts on Atrisia to deal with everything that went down, from the towns and surface ravaged by the battle and Force Storm, the Nexus it probably created, harvesting the corpse of Lotek'k, to the giant volcanic ash cloud that probably will linger in the atmosphere for weeks to come, blocking out the sunlight around Jar'Kai city.


tomb_of_the_cybermen_by_chrisofedf-d4ttaby.jpg

Objective C- Let The Sleeping Droids Lie- The door to the room would enter with a hiss as HK would step in, a makeshift eyepatch covering a black hole that was once one of his crimson glowing photoreceptors, the droid eye disabled during the battle,

"Oh, there you buggers are, so I probably should have mentioned that earlier but there is this building on Abregado, we just call it the Catacombs, you see it is where I go to deactivate myself safely when I want to step back from the Galaxy for a bit. I also keep there all the relics from Sith, Jedi, and other orders I collected since the days of Ancient Republic, you are free to have a look around there see if there is anything the Order has a use for. But be wary, that place is a maze, and even I do not know the locations of all of its traps or control the mechanical guards who keep it. Makes it more secure that way in case my mind would be ever captured. So good luck!"

He gave a quick briefing to the Force users who would decide to tag along with him to Abregado, [member="Gabriel Sionoma"], [member="Jacen Voidstalker"], [member="Veino Garn"], [member="Jamie Pyne"], [member="Aela Talith"], [member="Dar'rak"], [member="Spencer Varanin"], [member="Rhen Qel-Droma"], [member="Kana Truden"], once they would be free to land on the planet it would be pretty clear which building were the Catacombs, a great hall with statues of HK holding a lightsaber, adorned in Jedi robes, attached to a pyramid.

This one is not only for the Jedi Order but also other Force Users who have tagged along with us during the Rebellion, and Non-Force Users who are fans of archeology and spelunking as well, one of the big new landmarks constructed under HK's rule is his Mausoleum, a giant Catacomb complex he retreats into when he decides to deactivate himself for prolonged periods of time before he is needed again. The Catacomb is basically a maze, one of those mazes whose corridors move in a specific pattern every few minutes or so, it is filled with sarcophagus like containers where HK and his bodyguards can climb into to deactivate themselves in safety, mechanical guards, booby traps rigged against organics, and the reason why he would invite the Jedi inside- relics. A vast collection of items he acquired over his long life dealing with Jedi, Sith, and other orders, some of it is just random crap, like robes or a generic lightsaber, there's a lot of that because he can't really perceive what is imbued with the Force and what is not, so he just keeps everything related to a Force user, but once in a while one could find something more precious like a holocron, a force-imbued weapon, or an item haunted by an ancient Sith spirit. Basically if you would like to use this as a development thread for an item like that, outside of canon items, the lore behind the relic has to be of your own creation, go for it. But be careful, because deep in the bowels of these tombs there creeps shadows that even HK isn't aware of (Which I will be DM'ing). It is also a place where spirits, nudge-nudge, wink-wink [member="Delila Castillon"], would find it remarkably easy to manifest themselves and somewhat interact with the physical realm.



Objective D- Make Your Own Fun,

Although I tagged people into objectives that may suit them the best, it's nothing set in stone, pick any objective you would like to partake in, or set up your own, after all there is more than just one planet in Abregado's hex, or just wander around RPing about whatever you would like without an objective.


[member="Asmus Janes"], [member="Franc Kotrag"], [member="Deacon"], [member="Seras Rose"], [member="Aeron Kreelan"], [member="Michael"] Serdun, [member="Elliot Locke"],

Sorry if you took part in Atrisia and I didn't tag you in, it would take too much time for me to go through the entire thread. If you were there and it would make sense for you to be here as well, jump in, if you weren't but you want to take part in this, then go for it as well!
 
Objective A

Aboard the vessel Dancing Queen.

Desmond C'artyom awoke with a start. "MY SHIP!" He shouted as he flew upright in his medical bed. Where the khark am I?? Slowly memories came flooding back to him. Fighting.. Artisia.. Then being asked to join the alliance. He couldn't remember if he said yes so he grew very cautious. They had replaced his eye optic. Which was a good sign, but still not good enough... Desmond slipped out of his bed and dropped to the acrylic floor, his bottom hanging out of his hospital gown. He picked himself up off the floor, every muscle hurt. It felt like he got blasted all over by an over zealous masseuse droid. He bit the IV out of his wrist and was about to exit the door when a Doc droid entered.

"Greeting Agent Desmond. I see you are feeling better,"

"Now look here droid!" Des grabbed a stethoscope "I don't want to hurt you, where is my ship?!?" He held the objects like one would a pair of nun chucks.

"Agent Desmond, please. You are embarrassing yourself. I am not here to hurt you." The doctor took the stethoscope from Desmond's hand.

"Really? Why not?" Desmond was dumbfounded.

"You turned coats after the battle. It was this or Belsavis. Honestly I think they thought you knew more about the enemy when they made the deal..." The doc droid trailed off before he said anything offensive.

"Hmmm... Des you dog! Talked your way out of it again! Well then, where can a fella get a stiff drink around here?"

The doctor held up a small serving of pain meds.

"That is not recommended as the meds you are tak-" Des snatched the meds out of the droids hands and downed them with some nearby rubbing alcohol.

"Ahhh, much better. Now, to find my ship!"
 
[member="HK-36"]

Aboard the Dancing Queen,

Abregado-Rae and Allies Fleets Heading Towards the Abregado System

Akimoto woke slowly, aches all over his limbs and torso. Several ribs felt broken or fractured, and the first move he did was to take his right hand and press on the bulky dressing over them, like an idiot child. Wincing and a hissed intake of breath followed pain surging up the side of his body like lightning. Grunting with a grimace, he shook his head to clear his mind as he forced himself to sit up and gaze about the clean room he sat in. It appeared he was in a med-bay, and not his escape pod anymore. Which was, in truth, hardly surprising given his prior status with the mission over Atrisia. The question was just who had rescued him, and why. And if they wanted something of him in return. Charity, he was discovering, was not exactly common in the Galaxy in truth.

Sitting up, he noticed he was dressed in hakama and bare from the waist up. To the side sat the rest of his clothing, which had oddly enough been folded. Standing he drew the kimono over his chest as best he could, tying the obi and sliding the haori on, noticing his weapons wee gone. Reaching with his senses, he discovered that something had befuddled his mind or the Force. Perhaps it had been those strange storms he had felt and seen as his escape pod careened away from Atrisia. The sword was priceless, smithed by a notable katanakaji of his homelands. It was not made of a super rare material, but the honor and sentimentality was supreme. And there was the matter of a recent oath laid on the companion dagger with it.

Inexplicably, perhaps left over residue from the battle, rage boiled over and he slammed a fist into the table, denting it with a hollow boom.
 
Objective NO REST FOR THE WICKED

There was no down time for Rogue Squadron. Whilst they had been diverted to Atrisia to deal with the emerging threat they still had a time sensitive mission to complete.

Rather than joining the celebrations or recovery efforts they were dressed in civilian clothing, put in their personal fighters and sent off to Epiphany station.

Which is where we find our rogues and scoundrels. In the bar. Obviously.


Merchant Fleet and Rogue Squadron

VuOiNoJ.jpg


Epiphany Station

Hidden away on a tight cluster of uninhabited stars lies this trade hub that has remained outside the law for a long time. Since it stopped being used to ship spice into the core the Alliance forces have mostly let it alone.

Intelligence receives a report that a One Sith remnant is attempting to sell military assets. A virtual auction will be held on the station in the VIP suite of Pandora’s Bar before a star destroyer is to change hands.

The star system makes moving large vessels or fleets to the station a slow process. Any attempt by the Alliance to apprehend the trade will send the vessels running and there are too many exits from the cluster to interdict. Instead the Alliance hatches a different plan. One for rogues.

Members of the Merchant Fleet will be accompanied by Rogue Squadron in personal vessels. They will stay at the station for the week of the trade and remain relatively sober. Or else Janes is spending the next month grounded.

When the ship arrives, manned only by a skeleton crew, they are to launch and disable its engines before signalling the Alliance Navy. Unfortunately this has been leaked. When it comes to launch time they'll find their hangar guarded by stormtroopers and be forced to improvise.

tsvetelin-krastev-1213123311.jpg
 
Objective: Clean-up crew
Allies: [member="Geloyra Malleus"] [member="Siriwook"]
People of interest: [member="Desmond C'artyom"] [member="Akimoto Yukitoshi"]
Post: 1/20

"This is your cue, admiral" the cameraman told while the camera drone was being activated.

"Today, I'm not standing as the commanding officer of Therapy Command, even though Therapy Command worked tirelessly in the shadows to treat all manner of ailments from the refugees on Inysh, while this grand battle of light-vs-dark took place on Atrisia proper. It's IGR Brokerage pledging to do whatever is possible to help rebuild Atrisia and other worlds involved in the Atrisia Campaign, such as Cuvacia and Thebeon. Also Therapy Command has permission to build a military hospital on Inysh to bolster our presence in the sector, and the Medical Corps awarded the contract to build the hospital on Inysh to IGR in recognition of Therapy Command's role in the Atrisia Campaign. Also IGR will also bid on any projects pertaining to Atrisia proper"

The therapist-turned-admiral worked hard and hasn't forgotten her roots as a healthcare professional. Her two apprentices are there, somewhere onboard the hospital ship, the ANS Pharmacokinetics, with some of the patients collected from Dahrtag and Inysh being brought to Abregado-Rae because there wasn't enough room in the facilities on either planet to treat all of them. Oh and she is also invited to meetings pertaining to the reconstruction of this sector: this was a catastrophic battle and Jar'Kai was at its epicenter. And, after all, Cathul was pretty much expected to contribute, and not simply because she set up the triage center on Inysh. That was the whole schtick behind even establishing Therapy Command in the first place: helping out the wounded of the Atrisia Campaign. She looked over both padawans she had, and had a few things to tell them both, and it's about the relationship between the main action and the secondary theaters, while making sure that the camera wasn't active:

"I understand that, when so many fought Lotek'k and the Dominion so hard on the front lines amid a volcanic eruption and a Force-storm, we played a less-than-glamorous role but nevertheless important. You can't always expect to be on the front lines all the time: sometimes doing your duty demands that you do so while covering your own base"
 
Epiphany Station
Post: 1

People came to Epiphany Station for several reasons. First, they came to Epiphany Station to lay low. Very little in the way of law enforcement happened at Epiphany Station, it had security, but they just made sure no one endangered Epiphany. Second, they came to Epiphany Station to trade. It was by no means one of the largest black markets or shadow ports, but it was large and had many exits.

Keric came here for a third reason as well, it had bays large enough for him to pull his freighter into a dry dock. He'd acquired an older model YT-1930, purchased a slew of upgrades from around the galactic market place, and hired engineers from the Kathol Outback to help him install the new hardware. There had been plenty of Shadow ports he could have used, but this one had something else special, a mission from the channels of the Merchant Fleet.

People were still arriving, so Keric was focusing on working on upgrading his new freighter.

"Hand me the pulse welder..." He instructed the service droid that was on hand nearby, then he set to welding the support struts of a new weapon system to the exposed frame of his freighter. He was installing a pair of railguns from Armatech in the forward hull, on either side of the cockpit. The ammunition run ran into the forward maintenance crawl ways, with the control runs going straight into the cockpit rather than to the gun well. They'd not have a lot of arc independent of the ship's direction of travel, but that was ok. He was planning on having a pair of quad turrets installed to the gun well to handle most threats. He just needed the system to be delivered, along with several other systems.
 

HK-36

The Iron Lord Protector (Neutral Good)
[member="Akimoto Yukitoshi"], [member="Desmond C'artyom"],

The Dancing Queen,

Bridge,


"Sir!"

One of the droid's ensigns came in to attract his attention, the machine was at his command post overseeing the large vessel's approach towards the planet at sub-light speed. HK turned away from the viewscreen, looking at the officer,

"One of the patients in the med bay is acting up,"

The droid shrugged and turned back to the planet, watching as it slowly grew in size with the capital ship coming closer,

"So? Let the doctors and guards handle it."

"He damaged one of the tables, sir."

HK paused, his head slightly turning to peer back at the ensign with one crimson glowing eye, he did had only one left at the moment after all,

"Which table?"

The ensign paused, sighing heavily,

"The- the new one, sir."

"Oh for feth's sake- we just got it! And we had to spent an hour putting it together!"

"One of the patients, a Chiss, is apparently also trying to commit suicide by drinking rubbing alcohol or something like that."


HK fell to silence as he reached to rub his metal temple with his Phrik fingers,

"This is it-"

He looked up to peer at the image of his kingdom, a peaceful blue marble again,

"-this is where dealing with the banthachit begins."

The droid looked to his second-in-command,

"Begin transport of the troops and the wounded to the planet's surface."

The officer nodded,

"Yessir."


Medbay,

The door to the medical center aboard the ship would open with a mechanical hiss as the lord of Abregado, escorted by two of his bodyguard copies, were brought by one of the medics to Yukitoshi's bed,

"So you are the Atrisian survivor with the temper and penchant for damaging our furniture?"

HK asked as he stepped closer to have a look at his medical chart,

"We fished your pod out from Atrisian orbit, there was not much time to ask questions so we brought your unconscious body with us to Abregado."

The droid would lower the chart down before looking at Yuki,

"You do not look like a soldier, at least not the ones Mythos threw at us, which side were you backing?"


As to Desmond, well the droid didn't recognized or noticed him just yet, but one of the guards were alerted to his previous snatching of medical alcohol, and the personnel would be actively trying to keep anything like that away from him in between goading him back to his bed.
 

Tanomas Graf

Guest
T
Post: I
Objective: Patrol the Abregado system
ABREGADO-RAE, THE CORE WORLDS
Bridge of the Avenger

There was an eerie silence about the bridge crew of the Imperial II-class Star Destroyer Avenger. None dared to break the melancholic sounds of softly beeping consoles and light tapping of fingers. At least until a repeated clang of polished uniform boots against durasteel filled the ears of the crew as many of them went rigid to see what the disturbance was about. The entrance to the bridge slid open and in strode Rear Admiral Tanomas Graf, garnering a quick salute from most of the men before they quickly went back to work, wise not to irritate the old man before their patrol had even started.

It seemed that wherever Tanomas went, the command there hated him. This time they obviously didn't trust him either, and they were right not to. It had been a cumulative three weeks since his defection from the First Order and the GADF assigned him a fething liason to 'integrate him into the Alliance easier', Graf knew full well that they were spying on him to make sure he wasn't spying on them. A quiet sigh escaped his lips as he mulled this over, taking a seat in the rather comfortable captain's chair which he had had installed due to twenty-eight years of standing on a bridge not being good for his back.

The old man was soon handed a status report by a lieutenant and he began to read it carefully until a voice rang out, "Admiral, long range scanners are detecting bursts of Cronau radiation near Anza, which me-""Somebody is either entering or exiting hyperspace near the primary star of the Abregado system. I know general hyperspace mechanics, Ensign." Tanomas stated dryly, cutting the young man off. "The question is, who would be exiting hyperspace near a star? Set course for Anza, it's our job to find out and I don't want to let the Alliance think I'm a slacker, yet." The aged admiral ordered.

Stars streaked past the viewports and morphed into an endless blue tunnel as the Avenger made the jump to lightspeed, entering hyperspace.

0TqlKLv.gif
 
Epiphany Station
Post: 2

Keric paused and looked over his handiwork for a moment. The railguns were welded into place, with backup bolting on both sides of the firing axis. They would have an eighteen degree arc they could traverse to fire, which wasn't much, but enough to allow coordinating shots to anything in front of him. As he was working, several more shipments were brought into the bay. His eyes scanned over crates from Aurora Industries, Theed Hangars, and Marrow & Illskins. He was still waiting for confirmation and delivery from a few other companies, but this gave him plenty of work to do.

"Arr-Six, take the package from Theed and install it in the cockpit. That should be our navicomputer upgrade. Be careful that you use the newer power runs, I don't know if Janta has fully pulled the old ones out yet."

"I have!" came a shout from the aft of the ship, where Janta was now installing the nullification resin in the port side cargo bay. "I told you I finished it an hour ago, you deaf gossahole!"

Keric grinned. "You're beautiful when you're angry!" He replied as he turned to the crate from Aurora. He wasn't excited about installing the new hyperdrive generator. The S-6 was a beautiful model, still in production after centuries, but it wasn't the easiest install around. He checked his wristcomp, still no word from any of the rest of the Merchant Fleet, nor Rogue Squadron. That left him no excuse but to get on with the install.

"You're still an ass!" He heard Janta retort as he grabbed a gravsled and began to tow the new hyperdrive generator up into the ship. He had to smile, the ship would look much the same, classic Corellian engineering, but it was bulkier from the ablative durasteel layers he had added to everywhere that wasn't needing to be opened for the other installs, and it would hit harder and fly faster. When he was done, it'd be nothing to cough at, though still well short of a capital ship.
 
The Dancing Queen
Detention Level
Solitary Holding Cell

With his legs folded beneath him and clad only in very simple, baggy clothing that looked nothing like his usual outfit, the form of Xavka Duquo, Darth Lykos, the Sith Assassin's leader, sat in seiza with his chin resting on his chest and one, lone burnt orange eye concealed by a closed eyelid. The right sleeve of the top he was wearing was loose and hung limp at his side, the only visible sign that his prophetic cybernetic arm had been removed from him. He payed no mind to the harsh lights that shine upon him from the ceiling, nor did he pay any mind to the two armoured guards that stood outside of his cell, the fact that one was a droid revealed through their lack of believable scent. His dark, ashen grey hair was no longer pulled into the many dreadlocks it usually was, nor was it hidden beneath his cloak. As such, the long fibers fell around his face in loose waves, long enough that, with his head bowed and back straight, the ends brushed against the cold metal flooring beneath him. A set of Stun Cuffs were fastened to him, both ends of the cuffs attached to the same forearm while the chain was wrapped around his torso.

In that moment, his mind was no longer within his body nor within the perimeter of The Dancing Queen. Instead it was lost within the waves of the Force, reaching out further and further into the turbulence filled flows as the dark and light both continued to writhe and fight against one another, scars left once more upon the galaxy. Every now and then, his consciousness would be directed towards the echo of the mental connection he had shared with A'dele Adonai for a time on Atrisia, the echo only there due to the fact the connection had been open when the Waves of Darkness had caused their mental barriers to fail. When it did so, he would essentially knock gently against his fellow Iridonian's shields before retreating. After all, there was no point in further his plans for escaping without completing their conversation. He was not uncivilised; as animalistic as he was.

Every now and then, the guards would be able to see a smirk twist at the scarred lips, transforming his damaged features into plains of muscle broken up by trenches of scars. And just as often his smirk would emerge, a few deeps hums would ring out into the otherwise silent cell, a few bars of music that the guards could not hear but he could. As, indeed, within his mind, as his consciousness explored the Force, the memories of the music he had played upon his violin would play and run within his mind.

Eventually, his head would lift, even as his eye stayed closed, and his deep voice, gruff by nature and by the red scar that ran across his throat and reached deep enough to wound his vocal folds, would speak out. "Might I make the request of a glass of water? My throat is quite parched." The gentle smile that cross his lips at his words, along with his closed eye, gave him a slightly serene expression in that moment, a purposefully crafted mask to, hopefully, disorientate those that were watching. He may not be able to escape just yet, but he would try and have his fun in the mean time.



[member="HK-36"] | [member="Adele Adonai"]
 
Objective: Clean-up crew
Allies: [member="Siriwook"] [member="HK-36"] [member="Geloyra Malleus"]
People of suspicion:[member="Akimoto Yukitoshi"] [member="Desmond C'artyom"]
Post: 2/20

"Geloyra, Siriwook, come in"

Whatever the reason, she lost track of Geloyra. Sure Cathul appreciated Geloyra's independence, but there were times where Geloyra needed to be with her master. She still had a long way to go until knighthood, and same would go with Siriwook. Both my apprentices are somewhere on ship trying to cure patients. Hopefully they have learned their lessons from Inysh and the Atrisia Campaign, she thought. That was going to be a long day. When will Atrisia, Dahrtag and Inysh be able to take care of patients without having to offload patients to Abregado-Rae? What about Cuvacia or Thebeon? These were questions to which she could provide no answers. While she was in command of a unit called Therapy Command, said unit was stationed over Inysh because it was prudent to keep some presence in the sector to ward off the Sith. They'd better have good reasons for them to be out of sight, she thought again.

"Admiral, we have a new contact, with additional patients en route. The Dancing Queen"

"Dancing Queen, any information as to its allegiance?"

"Friendly, admiral"

"No action need to be taken"
 

Kingsley

intergalactic bird of mystery
Location: Approaching Epiphany Station
Objective: No Rest For the Wicked
[member="Asmus Janes"], [member="Keric Dynt"], [member="Cal Sedaire"], [member="Aeshi Tillian"], [member="Riimaurus"]
1


Cockpit, Brayl-class Bulk Freighter The Greater Fool
Approach Vector, Epiphany Station, Neutral Space

"Rrawk! Safe with Rogue Squadron my nest! This is a karking suicide mission!" the lone, quite frantic occupant of the broken down old freighter muttered to himself, "Some business arrangement, Kyros is trying to get me killed! I crossed him, and this is some kind of elaborate revenge..."

The avian's ramblings continued much in the same vein as he struggled with the ship's controls. Kingsley was late, and given both the importance of the job and the reputation of his employer, he was already beginning to fall apart because of it. Nerves, he knew he had to work on his nerves, but while it felt like a lifetime ago it had only been a few months prior that he had been living a very different lifestyle indeed. Owner of his own chain of antiques and collectible stores (glorified pawn shops), and proprietor of the flagship branch on Empress Teta where he also operated a side enterprise in rare acquisitions, both legitimate and otherwise (glorified fence). Unfortunately, his latest acquisition had belonged to none other than the Grand Captain of the Alliance Merchant Fleet, who as it turned out was cleverer than he looked on the holoreels. Expecting at the very least financial devastation and perhaps even worse broken bones or an early grave, instead when Kyros had found him he had had "offered" Kingsley a job as an intermediary.

In hindsight, the Rishii would have reconsidered if he had realized that intermediary meant go to places too dangerous for even the Grand Captain and represent his interests. Alliance intelligence had heard reports of a One Sith remnant seeking to offload some questionable merchandise, and given the fiasco that had been the Defense Force and New Jedi Order's handling of the last shadowport, they had reached out to the Merchant Fleet for the native's perspective, as it were. Kyros had sent messages out through the usual channels, for the most part scant on the specifics, looking for able bodied pilots and mercenaries looking to earn a little hazard pay, and along with members of Rogue Squadron he was supposed to be their contact at Epiphany Station. And he was late.

"Freetrader Belefonte, requesting dockling clearance, rrrawk!" Kingsley squawked in response to an intimidating sounding request for identification. At any Alliance station, identifying himself as a registered merchant vessel would have earned him some extra privileges, but out here it was just as likely to make him a target, not to mention tip off their intended marks. His transponder was masterfully forged.

For an infiltration operation, a noticeably exotic species like his own was a terrible choice, but his distinctive appearance was a natural beacon that most surveillance wouldn't even know to look for. It was the sort of crazed brilliance that had made Cei Kyros head of the Merchant Fleet. Not to mention in over two centuries of dealing with the underworld, the old bird had a few contacts on the shadowport. Guiding his freighter into his assigned docking berth with all the talent and flair of a trainee pilot, Kingsley managed to land her with a minimum of sparks and the smell of burnt polymers this time. After paying the requisite bribes, both to ensure he wasn't robbed on the spot and that his ship wasn't robbed later after he was gone, he steeled himself for the long walk to the nearest cantina by removing a flask from the belt on his hip and taking a long swig of the indescribably vile substance within.

Then, swaying only slightly, he went off in search of Rogue Squadron to make initial contact.
 
"Sheesh droid, that stuff taste like paint thinner!" Des said as he began to swing to and fro. The amount of drugs he had just taken were enough to sedate a Rancor.

"That's because you just drank a liter of rubbing alcohol and took 150mg of opiods," The doc droid said casually. He either didn't care or it wasn't in his programming.

"Where the khark is my stuff?" Des asked impatiently.

"Right here sir," the droid replied, as he pulled open a drawer and withdrew Des's leather jacket and dungarees.

"Thanks, now scram," The doctor left without a word and Des stripped down to his birthday suit. He took a moment to feel the swoop gang tattoo on the base of his neck. It was crazy to think how far he had come. From lowlife criminal to special agent... Des thought to himself. He slipped his pants on. Which was quiet a feet for the drunken Chiss. Then came the shirt, which atempted to trap him in its polyester clutches, but he managed to quell the beast and it soon sat complacent over his chest. Then he slid his old lucky jacket on.

Des made for the door. As he exited he found the hall littered with droids. He walked along the cold linoleum floors bare foot. He had decided not to put the boots on as it seemed an insurmountable feet for the drunken Chiss. Gotta find my ship. Des walked through the corridors until he found a sign that pointed to the hangars. He approached the bay and found an old terminal. He checked the logs manifest and searched for The Krayt Dragon's Pearl. It was under the listing of "Scrapped for Parts". "MY SHIP!" Des's eyebrows seemed to reach his hair line. "That can't be right!" Des shouted again. This time he searched for Desmond C'artyom. One ship came up and it Definitely wasn't his. T-70 X-wing... What the Khark. Bay 4...

Des made his way to the docking bay and there sat his new ship. An old all black X-Wing... Next to it stood one elderly man in a mechanics suit. "By god what a hunk of junk!" Des cried out in despair. The Mechanic turned quickly and gave Des an appraising eye.

"This be y'er ship?" Asked the grizzled old man.

"You bet your bald spot it is," Des sighed.

"Dontcha worry," Said the old man "She's seen me through plenty of scraps and never failed me once," The Mechanic patted the ship lovingly.

"Well maybe back in the day.. Eh.. I guess I could make it work.. Paint a lovely lady on their, a few modifications," Des looked from his ship to the old man "Say you wouldn't mind helping would y'a?"

"Not at all," The man said as he pulled a small flask from his jumpsuit. The smell of butterscotch whiskey drew Desmond closer.

"And do you think I could get a sip of that?"
 
Objective: Droid
Sub Objective: Freedom
Location: On Board the Emeralde Luna, Hyperspace towards the Abregado-Rae System.


It had been a while since HK-42 had a Master, or anyone onboard his ship. HK-57 Left to find himself a new master, and C7 just simply stopped working all together. 42, on the other hand, didn't want to find a new master, or die like all the other droids, not without gaining the one thing all 'slaves' crave for; Freedom. He had heard about another HK unit named [member="HK-36"], a commanding officer of some form of military power, but that's not what interested 42 enough to go find him. It was that this Droid was free;Free and Self thinking, with no master to tell him what to do.

42 just had to find him;There was no other alternative except HK-36. He had heard 36's fleet were heading towards the Abregado-Rae system, to apparently celebrate a survival of some incident. The Incidents details didn't matter to 42, just his destination. He was already approaching the system, jumping out of hyperspace, just as a Star Destroyer jumped out of the system. HK-42, confused on the matter, traveled off to the planet Abregado, to meet HK-36, at last.
 
Objective: BYOO
People of interest: [member="HK-36"]
Post: 3/20

----------------------------------

Your Lordship the Iron Lord HK-36,

Despite some recent incidents, would you be interested in perhaps expanding business opportunities between us? I operate a food business called Pizza Hutt and I was wondering whether you would like to have an establishment on Abregado-Rae. Please let me know of what works for you in terms of whether you would like us to meet in person or over teleconference.

Jessica Med-Beq
Owner, Pizza Hutt

----------------------------------

Knowing who the recipient is, and her run-ins with the droid, she found it cautious not to mention her ties to the Confederacy of Independent Systems, nor her relationship to the parent corporation of Pizza Hutt, no more than who the parent corporation of Pizza Hutt was. Assuming that the protocol in use on Glyss, where the droid knew she was its Princess Consort, was appropriate for someone styled the Iron Lord, Your Lordship the [title] [name] was the way to go. She was on Geonosis, and an in-person meeting would require using Instinctive Astrogation Control, with the corresponding number of jumps all being plotted using IAC, meaning that she will get big headaches for it. But she knew that local labor, including but not limited to, management, and also local supplies, was often part of the deal regardless of where you go. Tariffs, though, is another matter. She would probably expect tariffs but nothing Pizza Hutt couldn't handle.
 
Location: Alliance Relief Flotilla, Orbit of Abregado-rae
Objective: Clean Up Crew - Oversee Construction of Orbital Trading Hub and Negotiate With Guild of Hammers
[member="HK-36"]
2 (SoroSuub 1)


Conservatory, SoroSuub Luxury 5000 Yacht Belefonte
Abregado-rae Orbit, Abregado System, Southern Core

The exquisitely dressed and groomed Hapan's fingers danced languidly across the keys of the nalargon, expertly playing a melancholic dirge of one of the more renowned Coreward classicists. The chamber around him was large and almost theatrically extravagant, and the notion that such a place could exist on a spaceship would be ludicrous if it weren't for the transparisteel wall adjacent to the musical instrument on the other side of which was a spectacular view of Abregado-rae below, the flurry of space traffic all around, and directly ahead the slow motion dance of the first pieces of what would become a brand new space station designed specifically for trade coming into alignment with each other. Soon the Belefonte would have to vacate Abregado airspace as parking this close to the planet would rise to a premium when the returning Alliance forces arrived, but for the moment the company's association with and contribution to the ongoing relief efforts had afforded the yacht's passenger a close up view at the fruition of his labors for a while yet.

Granted, it had been no glorious conquest. The Barony was an old and true friend of many in the Alliance from its roots in the Protectorate, and while many of his contemporaries had warned him of the pitfalls of working with the Guild of Hammers, the SoroSuub director had found it curiously refreshing. People were a confusing, jumbled mess who had fascinated and challenged him so much that he had effectively made a career out of predicting their emergent motivations. But droids, droids were direct. Especially in a galaxy like this, they wanted to protect what was theirs and were understandably cautious of outsiders given the planet's prior history as an unwilling pirate haven. He could relate to that, and what he could relate to he could work with. The song ended just as a servant knocked, likely on his way to inform him that a shuttle was prepared to take him down to the surface.

Nathanos Darksword, Hapan exile and now head of public relations for one of the more powerful megacorps this side of the galaxy, rose to unsteady feet and nodded in solemn acknowledgment of the delivered message. The last of the spice high had worn off halfway through the last concerto, which was good as he would be meeting today with those who might be able to detect that sort of thing. Straightening the creases in his suit, he allowed his staff to convey him to one of the twin hangar bays in the yach's struts. Head buried in a datapad, they had to physically guide him every step of the way lest of run into a wall or fall over a railing. Updates were streaming in at regular intervals, and they would keep him apprised of the ongoing efforts in order. He cracked a minuscule smile as he recalled that even the vacant faces of the Abregado-rae Industries reps had registered some surprise and approval at what SoroSuub's resources and manpower could do for the project's timetable. If all went well over the next few days, the beginning of a productive relationship between the Alliance and the Abregado system could be a much needed silver lining in the aftermath of the Atrisia disaster.

Of course, that was not how it was being framed to the public. Celebrations were already erupting throughout the cities on the surface below, hailing the glorious victory of the Galactic Federation over the grim specter of the One Sith. And Nathanos supposed from the perspective of the greater good that it had been a victory, in a way. Certainly the region would be safer in the long term because of it, although it would bear the scars of the conflict for a long time to come, but from a financial perspective the Alliance's commitment to Atrisia had been a costly one, in terms of credits as well as lives. In reality the Guild of Hammers had reacted with droid like precision to an opportunity to help negotiate themselves into an extremely favorable position before beginning talks concerning entering their trade alliance. The director did not hold out much hope of breaking up their monopoly and establishing a foothold on the world for SoroSuub, but hopefully he could use that guarantee to help bring the Barony into agreement about trade deals that were favorable for everyone.
 
Objective C [ Sub Objective : Annoy [member="HK-36"] ]



Yawning, Ghost Delila floated around HK-36. Apparently being a droid he wasn't effected by any of her otherworldly doings. Knocking over things, flickering lights, you know the gamut. A popular one with the dearly departed was to touch the skin. One couldn't exactly do that to a droid.


She watched him throw a fit over a table.


"Such a drama queen. Who the hell programmed him? They really went heavy handed with that emotion. Maybe its a glitch. Maybe I should shut him down for kicks and giggles.....Probably would give the crew a rest for a change."
 

HK-36

The Iron Lord Protector (Neutral Good)
[member="Darth Lykos"],

The guards didn't respond to Lykos' words at his request, the organic only looked to the droid guard and nodded, machine responded in kind. It may seem at first that they simply ignored him asking for water, after all it would be so easy to be cruel towards their prisoners, a Sith no less, the two guards could probably execute him, claim he tried to escape, and get off scot free if they wished. But that was not the way HK and his soldiers did things, fighting so many battles together, countless campaigns against all manners of Sith cultists, pirates, even the Vong and the Horde, the troops under the droid's command picked up few mannerisms affter their commander, his nature bleeding over to them. Among them was being honorbound to their duty as soldiers and penchant for mercy towards non-combatants and those who lay down their arms, both weakness and a respected trait, depending on who they were facing.

It may have seemed they ignored him, but in reality the droid guard sent out a silent transmission for a cup of water, after all even Sith prisoners had some basic rights under Abregado's chivalry-infused laws. They stepped away from his cell, turning to face him and raising their burst-fire shattergun carbines as a small droid courier came into the view. One of those mouse-droid-like models who were used to zip around large ships in order to guide the crew or carry small items between the officers. In a pair of tiny arms it held secure water in a cup made out of some soft plastic, just step above paper.

Small opening in the cell's field would open, the droid courier would push the cup through it, the guards ready to step in in case something happened, it was not the first Sith they faced. If Lykos would decide to try something funny, they were ready to fire, if not, then the courier would move away from the cell, its force field would seal completely again, and the guards would move back to their post on either side of his cell.



Still standing by [member="Akimoto Yukitoshi"]'s bed to speak with the Atrisian survivor, HK would receive transmissions, keeping most of them as silent instant messages so that it would not seem like he is not paying attention, that would be rude,

"Sir, we have received report that the Chiss recovered from the battlefield has exited the Med Bay without proper clearance, apparently the medical staff did not want to deal with him anymore and claimed he is someone else's problem now,"

One of the officers notified HK, referring to [member="Desmond C'artyom"],

"Well I do not want to deal with him either, sent out a couple of guards to find him, put him in a detention cell if he will be belligerent, maybe that will sober him up, I just do not want to deal with him directly."

"Aye-aye, sir."


"Sir, we have picked up on traces of unknown vessel entering the system, does not bear any known IFF codes, and it is not one of the scheduled merchant convoys."

Another officer contacted him, this time referring to [member="HK-42"]'s ship coming into the system,

"Probably just a spacer, ask them to provide identification and reason for their arrival. If it is a Sith seeking vengence for Atrisia already, I want them flagged, but no reason to make Alliance think we are too jumpy."

"Aye-aye, we have also received report of one of the allied ships entering hyperspace without prior notification,"

"Whose ship?"

"Admiral [member="Tanomas Graf"], sir."

"Meh,"

HK shrugged it off,

"The stick up his ass probably makes things a bit uncomfortable during celebrations."

"His trajectory suggested he is heading towards our star, sir."

"Alright, that is a bit more unusual, keep me posted if you will detect anything else."

"Aye-aye."

Perhaps it was The Dancing Queen's position, coupled with interference from the planet and other ships, or perhaps the crew was just too distracted by everything that's going on, but it seems that the Abregado crew did not detect the traces of incoming ships near the star as Graf's vessels did, he was on his own, at least for now.


"Sir, we received a transmission from Geonosis, one [member="Jessica Med-Beq"] wants to negotiate partnership with company known as Pizza Hutt-"

"I do not make deals with Hutts."

"That's just the name, sir."

"Oh."

"She is asking whether it would be possible to discuss this in person or through a transmission."

"Tell her-"


The droid paused his instant messaging spree, trying to manage everything going on, as he thought he heard someone call him a drama queen and mention they wanted to shut him down, how annoying! He scanned the immediate area, not detecting anyone but the busy medical staff and patients who did not pay any attention to him. While Dells could somewhat interact with him, pulling on his cloak, pushing him around a bit, etc, he could not really see her, and it was debatable whether he could hear her speak.

Otherwise he would remind her that it was a very nice table, in fact it was so beautiful he named it Dells and he threw a fit because he just couldn't handle loosing her twice!


Anyway, HK turned back towards Yukitoshi, going back to "paying attention to him" as he secretly sent out messages with his mind,

"Tell her, 'With all due respect, in the wake of recent events I am extremely busy, I will not be able to accomodate time for a prolonged transmission in the next few days, if you wish to speak to me about your business proposal, it would have to be done in person.'"

Although he did have to somewhat put up Abregado on Galactic stage with his move towards having them join the Alliance, he was still not too excited about having foreign companies come in and try to set up presence on his planet, hopefully this would defer further talks about it. While he did not have time to really research the Pizza Hutt franchise or look into Jessica outside of their encounter during her wedding, to him all foreign companies trying to make deals on Abregado soil were bad news, well maybe with the exception of Firemane.

"Very good sir, we have also received reports that one [member="Nathanos Darksword"], representative of the SoroSuub, begun construction of the Trade Station as agreed with the Alliance."

"Darksword, that is a Hapan family, one with a past. Have them carry on, but keep an eye on their fleet, let me know if Suub wishes to have their representatives speak with me directly or try anything outside of their projected agenda."

"Aye-aye, sir!"
 
As HK-42 approached the planet Abregado, he was hailed by the planet to identify himself and his purpose for heading towards the planet. He immediately responded in the usual fashion.

"Greeting: I am HK-42, Captain of the Emeralde Luna."

"Statement: I have arrived to talk with [member="HK-36"] about his current ability of free will, to think without a Master telling him what to do."

"Query: Am I permitted to land on the planet, Meatbag?"

He waited above the planet's atmosphere, awaiting the response from the control tower on the planet below.
 
Epiphany Station

This wasn't exactly how Kairon was expecting to see his war hero nephew. No uniforms, no military bearing. Just a group of young men and women lounging in the corner of a shady bar in a dead end port.

The lad had turned himself around by all accounts. No longer a drifter on his uncle's freighter avoiding the responsibilities of life. He now led the infamous Rogue Squadron. Who also seemed to be more interested in drinking and making crude jokes than keeping a low profile.

There was a difference though, he thought as he waited for drinks. There was a confidence that hadn't been there before. Oh he had been a cocksure and troublesome youth, but there was a different kind of confidence. The kind that probably came easily when you'd fought at every major engagement the Alliance had been in for three years.



"And this is my uncle!" Asmus called loudly. "Who is a man of honour and thus has bought us a round."

The smuggler offered a half-hearted smile
His long hair fell over his old and worn jacket. Kairon set the tray of ales down in the middle of the group. As professionals he was certain they'd know when to stop with the mission coming in around a day's time.

[member="Kingsley"] [member="Keric Dynt"]
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom