Private Prime Real Estate [Judah Dashiell]

[Balun Dashiell]

PRIME REAL ESTATE
INVENTORY: Spacer Apparel, Lightsaber & K-16 Bryar Pistol
NPC'S: Aristaeus Drones
TRANSPORT: AT-CMH
TAGS: Judah Dashiell

This thread follows after "A New Frontier - Jhaessa Prime".
​

The All-Terrain Colony Mobile Habitat—an immense, fortress-like machine—stood solitary in the heart of an open field, its angular silhouette casting long shadows over the endless expanse of wind-swept grass. The vast plains of Jhaessa Prime stretched in every direction, unbroken by trees or settlements, the horizon itself lost to the gentle curvature of the world. The AT-CMH, both a mobile command centre and prefabrication base, loomed like a titan of steel and composite alloys, its presence a bold declaration of civilisation arriving at the edge of the unknown.

Designed and commissioned under Balun Dashiell's own specifications, the machine was built for precisely this purpose: to lead the charge in transforming untouched wilderness into thriving frontier outposts. Jhaessa Prime had caught his attention the moment they had pierced the chaotic nebula that had, until now, hidden the Nytherra System from the wider galaxy. Behind that curtain of volatile radiation and stellar storms, they had discovered a quiet star with four orbiting worlds. The fourth—Jhaessa—sat on the system's outermost edge, a temperate planet untouched by industry, rich with untamed beauty and mystery.

From orbit, no clear signs of sentient life had been detected, but caution was still essential. The Royal Naboo Republic had tasked them with identifying any potential threats that might be concealed beyond the nebula's veil, wary of what secrets such isolation might foster. For Balun, the mission held a dual purpose—not just reconnaissance, but discovery. A hidden world like this could be a vault of forgotten knowledge, rare resources, or something far stranger.

The first step had been securing a safe passage through the nebula—a dangerous feat of navigation requiring meticulous mapping and sensor relay placement. Only once the route had been stabilised could their attention shift fully to the planet itself.

Now, inside the cockpit of the AT-CMH, Balun sat beside his father, Judah Dashiell . The vehicle required a minimum crew to operate—six in total—rounded out by four Aristaeus Drones temporarily reassigned from The Nomad to assist in logistics and piloting functions. Balun knew well how much his father disliked droids. Judah's disdain for synthetic life was practically legendary within the family, and placing him in a confined operation alongside four of them was not a choice Balun had made lightly. But necessity often overruled comfort, especially on missions like these.

Fortunately, the mobile habitat was spacious enough that they rarely had to occupy the same rooms. Balun hoped that in time, Judah would come to see the logic behind the decision: calculated risk balanced against enormous potential reward. This planet could be the key to something far greater—not just for their family, but for the galaxy.

For now, the great machine waited, engines cooling as the crew prepared to begin their survey. The field was quiet, the wind gentle. But beyond the silence lay possibility—and perhaps danger.

"Speech".
'Thought'.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

JHAESSA PRIME

Judah thought his youngest son had lost his mind.

The Dashiell family had deep pockets. The hyperlane crisis was putting a pinch on profits without a doubt. Orders were still there. Salvage was still out there. It was just getting it to the clients and getting paid for it. In time, profits would recover. With diverse investments, there were still plenty credits to keep things afloat.

Which made him wonder why Balun Dashiell didn't ask for the credits to hire a sentient crew. Droids were good for things such as heavy labor and other tasks that didn't require thought. Things that were monotonous. Not for navigating unknown planets. Sometimes he wondered the thought behind his son's decisions. If there even was a thought behind them.

His eye had kept an eye on atmospheric and oxygen readings as they had come to a stop. The minute they had settled, the minute they could escape, Judah was outside the exploration vessel. Reaching in his pocket, he pulled out a cigarra and a lighter, letting the sweet smoke fill his lungs. Typically not a stress smoker, he was making the exception this time.

Was it potentially dangerous? Yes. Judah would take his chances with say a wild beast or protective native than the droids. He had a blaster on his hip after all. Balun would think him crazy and that was fine.

 

[Balun Dashiell]

PRIME REAL ESTATE
INVENTORY: Spacer Apparel, Lightsaber & K-16 Bryar Pistol
NPC'S: Aristaeus Drones | TRANSPORT: AT-CMH
TAGS: Judah Dashiell

​

Balun descended the side of the AT-CMH, his boots thudding heavily against the metal rungs of the five-step ladder before he dropped the final distance, landing with a soft thump onto the grassy plain below. The field stretched endlessly around him, golden-green under a pale afternoon sky, swaying gently in the breeze. As he straightened, his hand moved instinctively to his jacket pocket, fingers closing around the familiar shape of his cigarra packet.

He didn't think much of the moment—just the simple urge for a smoke. A habit, sure, but one that oddly connected him to his father in ways conversation sometimes couldn't. He figured Judah Dashiell might be feeling the same way. Shared silences like these had always been more comfortable than forced talk.

"I haven't seen even a flicker on the scanners suggesting sentient traffic since we landed," Balun remarked, his tone easy, almost cheerful, as he joined his father's side. His gaze swept across the distant horizon, the open plains rolling toward a faint mountain ridge barely visible through the haze. This outing—his first real mission since Kellan had come into his life—felt like a breath of old air. Familiar. Liberating. With Makai watching over his son and Vesha Daruun ensuring everything was in order back home, he'd allowed himself to simply be here, in the moment.

Balun slipped a cigarra between his lips, letting it rest there a moment before murmuring through the unlit end, "She's a beauty, huh? Hard to imagine she's been tucked behind that nebula all this time." He lit it with a flick of his lighter, the flame briefly dancing before vanishing into a curl of smoke. He took a long, deliberate drag, the acrid flavour settling deep in his lungs, the rush grounding him.

He let the silence linger, dragging again and exhaling slowly as he turned his gaze across the open land. This place… it was untouched, unclaimed. Full of potential.

After a moment, he spoke again, quieter now, but with the sharp undercurrent of ambition.

"Dashiell Incorporated could lead the colonisation effort here. Between this world and the neighbouring planets, there's bound to be mineral wealth—maybe even something rarer. The terrain's ripe for development. We set up a trade hub, attract commerce… lay the foundation for a proper settlement. With the right partners backing us, we could establish something real—lasting."

He turned his head, studying his father's face, searching for a sign-any flicker of interest or agreement. The cigarra smouldered between his fingers, forgotten for the moment.

"It's more than just good business, Dad. It could be legacy."

"Speech".
'Thought'.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Staring at the cheery tone, Judah wasn't sure to be amused or to ring his son's neck. Instead of responding, there was a small shake of his head as the blueish smoke curled between them. Balun was quite pleased with himself, that much he could see. In a way, he was too. Proud his son navigated the collapsing hyperlanes and the nebulas to bring them to this planet. It showed skill and dedication. Judah just wished there had been follow through on other ends - the droid issue for example.

Nothing could be done about that right now.

"It's more than just good business, Dad. It could be legacy."

"You and Makai are my legacy. Kellan, Phoebe, any other grandchildren down the pipeline, that's the legacy I leave behind. A good one, I might add."

Judah knew what Balun meant. He saw the vision. Long-term it was a way to get a strong foothold in the area. Even if the Naboo Republic were to go under, the location was a prime one. Trade routes alone could service a good portion of the Southern Systems. At one point the Southern Systems was well known for their corporations, back when Danger was much younger and had spearheaded development.

"I see what you're aiming for. I do. Question is if you're ready to put the work in. You're playing with livelihoods with projects such as these. I want you to feel that weight when thinking your next steps. Feel that weight when you finally answer."

 

[Balun Dashiell]

PRIME REAL ESTATE
INVENTORY: Spacer Apparel, Lightsaber & K-16 Bryar Pistol
NPC'S: Aristaeus Drones | TRANSPORT: AT-CMH
TAGS: Judah Dashiell

​

Balun stood in still silence, his eyes tracing the distant ridgeline where soft hills met the sky in a muted blue haze. The horizon was clean, untouched by ships, towers, or the mark of civilisation. It was as if the land itself was holding its breath, waiting to be shaped, claimed, cultivated. An open canvas of opportunity.

Judah stood nearby, contemplative, and though he spoke sparingly, Balun could sense the shift. His father saw it too—the potential buried in the soil, the promise carried on the wind. And for once, that recognition mattered more than anything Balun had hoped to find on the planet. There had been few moments like this between them, fewer still when Judah had looked at one of Balun's visions and seen more than idealism. This time, he saw purpose.

It gave Balun a quiet, unspoken pride.

His father's approval wasn't something he chased openly, but it carried weight. He still remembered the doubts that had shadowed earlier ventures, the hesitation Judah often showed when Balun strayed too far from practicality. Dashiell Retrofit™ had been the first project they'd aligned on and even then, it had taken effort to earn his father's confidence. But this? This was something different. This was about more than credits and contracts.

"This is for Kellan," Balun said, his voice steady, the conviction woven into every word. He took a final drag from his cigarra, letting the smoke curl past his lips as he turned his eyes to Judah. "He's my legacy too. And one day, when he has a family of his own… I want to know they'll have everything they need. A future worth inheriting. One where they're connected, not just to our name, but to each other. To something lasting."

He let the thought hang there for a moment, watching as the wind rustled the tall grass beyond the AT-CMH.

"This world could be that future. A foundation." He glanced down at the half-burnt cigarra in his hand, then back to his father. "It'll take time. A lot of credits. And more contacts than I have right now." There was no denial in his tone—just acknowledgment. He knew Judah was cautioning him not to move recklessly, and for once, Balun didn't push back against the wisdom in that advice. "We'd need support—investors, logistics, maybe even Naboo Republic approval if we want to establish a trade hub out here."

His gaze was earnest now, voice softening, though no less sincere.

"But this is what I want, Dad. And I'd like to do it with your support. With your approval."

He didn't need a speech in return—just a look, a nod, something to let him know that this wasn't just his dream anymore. That maybe… it could be theirs.

"Speech".
'Thought'.

 

[Judah Dashiell]

Sometimes it was hard to reconcile Kellan was also the legacy of Balun. Not that Judah had any intentions on overstepping his bounds, more ensuring his own hard work would benefit the future generations was something he had been working on since Makai graduated university. Planting trees in which the shade he would never sit in was the idea those years ago.

Seemed those trees were slowly reaching towards the sky. Nearly thirty years of hard work, the sacrifice of his personal life, risk after risk. This was the payoff, the thought of great-children and beyond thriving. For the Dashiell name to be well regarded beyond the confines of Saleucami.

A slow exhale of the sweet smoke, a flick of his cigarra.

"Alright."

There were no more words on the subject. Nothing else to be said. Instead of continuing a line of questioning towards his son, his wheels were starting to turn to a different subject matter. It wasn't the first time he had established an isolated planet - Tabaqui and Celestia Station came to mind.

"I believe this is already Naboo Republic territory." A small pause. "If we polish up a presentation, we might even be able to convince them to provide capital for the project."

 

[Balun Dashiell]

PRIME REAL ESTATE
INVENTORY: Spacer Apparel, Lightsaber & K-16 Bryar Pistol
NPC'S: Aristaeus Drones | TRANSPORT: AT-CMH
TAGS: Judah Dashiell

​

A broad smirk tugged at the corner of Balun's lips as he glanced back toward his father. It wasn't just what Judah had said—it was how he had said it. The word "we" had slipped into the conversation like a quiet commitment, but to Balun, it landed with weight. That simple pronoun changed everything. This wasn't just about support anymore. It was a partnership. It was a shared ambition.

For the first time, Judah Dashiell wasn't just standing behind Balun's dream—he was stepping into it alongside him.

"Awesome," Balun breathed under his breath, the word barely audible as he turned his eyes back to the endless horizon stretched before them. "Thanks, Dad." His voice was soft, not out of hesitation, but because the moment didn't call for volume—it called for sincerity.

He wasn't thanking him for approval, not really. He was grateful for the willingness to walk the same path. To take on the uncertainty and strain of turning this wild, unspoiled land into a beacon of commerce and life. Together.

"I was gonna give this everything I had anyway," he admitted, his voice a little more sure, a little more open than usual. "But the idea of building this—starting this—from the ground up… as a team? Father and son?" He shook his head with a quiet exhale, the emotion settling in his chest like something warm. "There's nothing that could top that."

It wasn't like him to speak so directly about their relationship. With Makai, it was easier—they could trade barbs and wisecracks, letting sentiment sneak in around the edges. But Judah was different. Judah was someone Balun admired deeply, not just as a father, but as a man who had carved empires out of opportunity, who seemed to always have a grasp on the bigger picture. To stand beside him now, not as a boy chasing ideas, but as a man with a vision of his own—it meant more than he could easily say.

"Not trying to sound like a fruit or anything," Balun joked lightly, offering a small grin to deflect the weight of his words, "but Dashiell Retrofit—that's always been my thing. This though… this feels like ours. A whole world of potential. One day the Dashiell name could be stamped across this planet like a promise."

He took another drag from his cigarra, eyes scanning the far distance with newfound focus.

"I've even got a site in mind. Something pinged on the descent—looked like a potential dig zone for a mining facility. Figured I'd bring Makai out here, show him the place myself. Might be the start of something bigger."

The wind moved through the grass again, catching the smoke as it drifted from the end of his cigarra. For a moment, Balun just stood there, silently envisioning the future: their future. A legacy carved into the soil of a world no one else had dared to claim.

"Speech".
'Thought'.