Dominion Revolving Fondor | GA Dominion of Fondor

[Spirit of Prosperity]

Fondor
The Colonies Region
A Second Great Hyperspace War Story

The passage of the SILK Trade Route Act has opened up a new era of prosperity for the Southern Systems. Left defenceless and isolated with the sudden collapse of the Confederacy, planets now flock to the Galactic Alliance seeking membership. With war raging to the west against the Brotherhood of the Maw and relationships continuing to deteriorate with the New Imperial Order to the north, the Alliance is more than willing to court new members.

With Kuat in the midst of civil war and Bilbringi refusing to furnish the Alliance with warships, attention has turned to the manufacturing mecca of Fondor and its neighbouring systems. Securing access to these shipyards is vital to the survival of the Alliance.

Objective I: Open for Business

Megacorporations and their lobbyists arrive on Fondor en mass to secure lucrative agreements with the Fondor Guild of Starshipwrights under the watchful eye of Alliance Senators, some intent on ensuring fair trade while others seek to line their own pockets. This will be the first showdown between the credit hungry private enterprises and an elected body increasingly seeking to reign in their influence. Travel to The Lodge and ensure that your interests are represented.


Objective II: Trade Barriers

The aquatic world of Giju lies near the terminus of the Rimma Trade Route, which links the Core to Thyferra, Yag’Dhul, Sullust, Eriadu, and beyond. The absence of Confederacy law enforcement had left this important hyperlane open to piracy and other threats, and order must be restored if commerce is to flow freely. The Alliance has dispatched naval and starfighter assets, supported by operatives from the SIA, to secure the region. Link up with the task force to secure the Giju system and reopen the Rimma Trade Route.


Objective III: Chief Executive

With the news of a new Empress of Teta reaching the wider galaxy, a parade is being hosted on the planet’s capital of Cinnagar. A celebration march towards the Palace to allow the public a glimmer of glance of the new Empress. The Senator of Teta had given an open invitation for all Alliance to attend. Enjoy the festivities or perhaps gain an audience through the Senator. On Teta, the planet is abuzz with joyous celebrations and cheerful festivities.


BYOO

Whether on Fondor, neighbouring Giju or Ghorman, or anywhere else in the Galaxy, there are a million tales to tell.
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[Niki Priddy]

FONDOR
THE LODGE​

Objective: Open For Business
Weapon: 'Revy'
Equipment: PCA/EA, x2 Hutt Cartel Kidnap Jabber Rings-One on either hand, ENVC-370 Bodyglove, Tinfoil Hat Band, Earsculpt Comlink, Magno-grip Formal shoes
Augmentation: PGEM-SAP "Amber Eyes"
Ship: The Tourist
Aboard the Ship: x2 Nuisance Engine Mark I Droids capable of producing Nuisance Droid Mark I

Hands in her coat pockets, Niki quietly whistled at the sight of the twin building.

More a neutral party in the current age of the galaxy, the interest of those on the planet being well and truly represented was the concern for the Emberlene based engineer. Her hair had finally grown back, playing with it absently. Crimson now rather than black with alteration to her genetic tissue to better hide the irrated skin replacement there. Her scalp still inflamed from the incident on Denon.

Another matter for her to settle at a later date as the C-SOC Gozanti was parked and secured. Opting to leave behind her pistol, she entered The Lodge with the interest of those on the planet in mind.

Even being former AoC, and having fought against the CIS, she couldn't help but worry about the sudden interest of a galactic power moving into the space left in their wake. Especially when that planet held a shipwright as this one. A governing body was always something to keep an eye on. The sly subjugation of a people, something one could never ignore.

Especially on the coat tails of those promising peace or prosperity.

Amber eyes glowed softly, taking in the details that most people failed to properly hide through their body language.

The small tells of fidgeting and glancing with only their eyes to keep from twisting their neck. The nervous check of time or drumming of fingers against their leg absently.

This meeting of credit lined pockets and envoys was to be a trying one for sure. While she only had a mild interest in the matter, Niki was curious to see the whole process. The coat was searched, the harness checked and rechecked as she pointed out the functions of each point of interest.

The rings on either hand were ignored, letting security scan the earsculpt commlink for anything more than what was presented. Deactivating it and sliding it into her pocket, she took a chance to glance around to see those gathered before taking a spot out of the way to listen and watch.

Matthew would be bored out of his mind waiting aboard the ship, but the Corellian had at least seen reason to allow her to travel alone for the first time since she had returned. And was the voice on the other end of the commlink in her pocket. Alerted to the need to shut it off for now, she had given him a time frame with which to begin reasonably worrying about her.

@whomsoever wishes
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[Cass Gemini]

Spoiler: Gear and other links

Equipped:

• Calypso's Thunder
• Harlequin sabers
• Gravpack
• Viper mk2 skinsuit
• Thermal Detonators

Ship:

• Midnight Kyber
• 4 x Sciss stealth fighters

NPCs:

• Crew of the Midnight Kyber

Location: Deep space, near a hyperlane
Objective: Disable cargo ship, steal stuff, Escape, profit
Tags: OPEN - Revenant Squadron

Objective II: Trade Barriers

Cass Gemini sat on the bridge of the Midnight Kyber, cloaked and observing the interdiction mine floating nearby. Her four fighters were dotted about, also cloaked and ready to pounce, the five vessels were spaced out around the mine, hyperspace interdiction was an inexact science but Cass was routinely managing to capture ships. And this one was going to be a big score. A munitions delivery to the Fondor Shipyards, hundreds of assorted missiles and bombs, she almost salivated as she read the inventory, this score if done right would arm her for months and the excess she could sell to fund her and her crew for a year or more. Her man had also informed her that the ship was travelling with only minimal escort, a few long range fighters, the lane was busy and the cargo vessel was on a contractor registry. The Allapparently were making payment on delivery, not on their balance sheet if it didn't arrive, why would the spare the credits to defend it properly. She laughed, the greed of the rich made juicy picking for the likes of her.

"incoming ship captain, its our one, arriving on 20 seconds" came the voice of her second in command, the mine detonated on queue outside and moments later the large cargo vessel dropped out of hyperspace. "fire disruption torpedoes, I want its engines out before they shoot out the mine!" shouted Cass as she saw two Missile streak away from the cloaked ship and detonate at the aft of the hauler, the shields crackled out with the first hit and second hit struck the engines, disabling them. That hauler wasn't going anywhere. Cass didn't carry many of those missiles, they were expensive and hard to come by, but worth every credit. She smiled with satisfaction as the hauler shot down the interdiction mine but could not escape. "Enemy vessel is attempting to reroute power to auxiliary drives, I have bypassed their security systems and sending extra power to waste management instead. Lovely clean toilets, just in time for them to kark themselves." came the excited voice of Dex, her digital assassin.

Cass smiled as the Kyber decloaked and moved in on the prey, her point defence already engaging skirmishing private contractor fighters, poorly trained and flying the cheapest fighters available, they were easy prey for her advanced ships. She would approach the target, cut into the hull and tractor out all the crates, a nice easy score today, and all going according to plan. "ready the Varperline Laser and transfer control to my console." a holographic control interface appeared in front of her, ready foe her to strike.

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[Luca Caldogne]

Objective I: Open for Business - Representing the interests of the Tapani Sector, chiefly Fondor
Participants: Niki Priddy | Spirit of Prosperity | @Others

When large nations moved into motion it were the smaller worlds that were crushed in their wake.

This was true for war, it was equally true for more peaceful diplomatic alignments. Luca Caldogne oversaw the First Bank of Procopia. An institute old and treasured within the Tapani Sector. It served as intermediaries for many of its noble houses and supported the efforts of local businesses as much as it could at the same time.

This was why Luca Caldogne was here today.

At the Lodge.

Fondor and the wider Tapani region had seen quite a few regime changes as of late. First the rushed insertion into the Confederacy after a few year of peace once the first Alliance was dissolved. The Confederacy fell however. And now the second Galactic Alliance was licking its chops, hungry for Fondor Shipyards and all the ships it could churn out.

It was not a matter of if Fondor would join the Alliance. Oh, they spoke of democracy, liberty, et cetera, et cetera. But the Alliance was in a precarious state with Kuat's internal criss and Bilbringi's current stand-off with its federalized government. No, Fondor had to join. One way or the other.

All that Luca could do was ensure it would come at a reasonable price and that the interests of Tapani would be respected.

Right now he was making his way towards the buffet table, however. These sort of events always made him... hungry. And that in turn made him annoyed. Not a useful emotion to deal with when you were trying to be as pleasant and diplomatic as possible. There was no reason to offend the Alliance sentients after all.

 

[Dorian Sevanar]

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O P E N_F O R_B U I S N E S S

FINAL DAWN
FONDOR , COLONIES
DISGUISE (Minus the Imperial Medallion)

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Fondor. Home to one of the Largest Shipyards in the Galaxy , rivaled only by Kuat and Corellia. It was no surprise to Adam Versili that in the wake of the Collapse of the Confederacy of Independent Systems that the Alliance would step in to secure it's former Territories in the Colonies and Inner Rim considering these worlds once formed the Industrial Center of the Confederacy. Worlds such as Fondor , Yag'Dhul , Bestine IV , Mechis III. Worlds who immediately found themselves isolated and in disarray in the wake of the departure of the Confederacy. Worlds who sought protection , who sought new opportunities which they would soon get in the form of the Galactic Alliance and their SILK Trade Route Act.

Of course , these new developments hadn't gone unnoticed by Adam Versili who had long had been interested in Chancellor Aerarii Tithe 's SILK Plan seeking to enjoy the benefits that would come with the Chancellor's Ambitious Plans for the Southern Systems with his Corporation , the Intergalactic Shipping Collective. Already , the Collective's Board of Directors along with Versili had unanimously agreed to create a separate branch of the Corporation , a subsidiary which would take charge of the ISCs Shipbuilding and Vehicle Manufacturing Operations in the form of Versili Fleet Systems which had recently established it's Headquarters on Fondor ready to seek new lucrative contracts with the Galactic Alliance and establish itself as a new player on the Marketplace and grant it's Parent Corporation with a major foothold within the Alliance itself in the form of Fondor.

Thus Adam Versili headed to the Lodge , the well-known Headquarters of the Fondor Guild of Shipwrights not with the intent to secure lucrative agreements with the Fondor Guild of Shipwrights but rather to properly establish Versili Fleet System's Presence in the Galactic Alliance and if possible even secure a spot within the Fondor Guild of Shipwrights itself , a move which would bring the Intergalactic Shipping Collective into the Political Arena and give it even more opportunities to grow in size and influence across the Southern Systems at an exponential rate. Through the SILK Trade Route Act , the Intergalactic Shipping Collective might perhaps find itself as the dominant power in the Southern Systems targeted for Alliance Expansion , and Fondor would only be the beginning.

Having arrived at the Lodge's Reception Area , Adam Versili would soon find himself surrounded by various Elites from the Political and Corporate Sector taking a drink from a droid servant before heading towards one of the fountains while keeping an eye out for any notable individuals. Hopefully everything would go according to the Plan , and by the end of this Versili would end up securing his desired foothold into the Alliance and if he was lucky enough , a spot within the Fondor Guild of Shipwrights. Versili's Ambition was great and he was determined to make sure everything went just as he had planned whether those Senators of the Alliance liked it or not.

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Tags | Niki Priddy | Luca Caldogne | Alban Roble ​

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[Isar]

Objective I: Open for Business - Representing the interests of the Tapani Sector, chiefly Fondor
Participants: Spirit of Prosperity Luca Caldogne

“Ah, there you are, Luca.”

A human man who might have been in his mid forties ambled toward Mr. Caldogne. He wore an expensive pair of matching gray coat and pants, with a black shirt on beneath. The man leaned slightly on a serpent-headed cane and seemed to favor one leg over the other.

This was of course Marcus Tritum and he had come to represent the interests of Tapani and the Commerce Guild.

Green eyes regarded Luca slyly, glancing from the appetizers and back up to the… man.

“Careful, you’ll ruin your appetite for dinner.”

 

[Josephine Halscott]

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Fondor.

A rather interesting planet and one that held some history for her family, a history she would sure to regale to those who cared. At the moment, Josephine had arrived from Denon after seeing to the establishment of Primo Victorian subsidiary one that she was still trying to wrestle control for. Part of the Avalonian woman's goal was to show to her aunt Ryssa that she was the future for the company and not her cousin, Arthur Badaire who while capable was in Josie's way. It was part of why she was here, to not only speak with other representatives from different companies but to pad that portfolio of hers.

Josephine arrived at the Lodge in a little red dress. From the elaborate entrance hall, she would be guided to where those vying for Fondor's shipwright were meeting. Feeling nervous, Josie wondered if she'd really be able to do much here and wondered if it wasn't too late to turn around now, and head for the door. Can't let this get to me, if I'm going to take over the company I'll have to put on the best show possible. Mustering a warm, disarming smile she gathered her courage and headed into the venue.

Not too far away were guards Lee Hae-Sung and Yeon Ja-Kyung. Dressed to blend into the crowd while keeping a careful watch over their charge.

The Avalonian took note of those who had arrived and wondered if the buffet would be a good place to start. She surveyed the area briefly before deciding that a little appetizer couldn't hurt, and it'd be a good ice breaker.

Niki Priddy | Spirit of Prosperity | Isar | Luca Caldogne | Open to Interation​

 

[Rekha Kaarde]

Objective: Bring her own
Tag: Anyone

Colonies Region? Well it was better than the Outer Rim or the neverlands. Orbital Shipyards, meant parts for her. The Midnight Star and old YT needed some replacements parts. Also the Little Gem needed a new converter maybe they'd have it here.

When she landed she was directed to go to the Rubber Nickle, a cantina where the Deck Officer could be found. She had a name Gidejeff Blakbar. another pilot a rodian gave her a bit of advice about Blakar he was expensive and used his job to skim in a few extra credits. They called him a Pirate. She'd see about that.

The Rubber Nickle what kind of name was that for a cantina maybe the Sinking Ship would be more like it or whatever, the likes of Yula Perl would be able to come up with a better name than the Rubber Nickle. What's a nickle?

Eh she wasn't going focus on it today. Deep breath as she walked in well lit that's unusual, music was good something that made you want to sit down and relax. She couldn't help but smile ok...yah it was somthing in the air this wasn't the normal place.

Rekha strolled to the bar, "Whiskey, I don't care what kind but it better not burn on the way down" oh ok..while she waited she looked who looked like a Pirate in here...

 

[Alban Roble]

F O N D O R
R I S I N G

Objective: Feel out the Crowd
Location: The Lodge, Fondor Guild of Starshipwrights
Tag: Niki Priddy | Luca Caldogne | Dorian Sevanar | Isar | Josephine Halscott

Some called them customers. Others called them vultures. One thing was clear: the people of Fondor were very opinionated about the Guild's decision to enter the planet into the Galactic Alliance.

The starship manufacturing world had enjoyed an uneasy relationship with the Core-based Alliance. For most of the planet's membership in the Confederacy, Fondor had been a military base of the southern power and regarded as a likely site of conflict should the two nations ever erupt into war, a prospect that at times had been likely. Fondor also had regarded the Core Worlds as elitists, sentiments arising from centuries of second-class treatment due to Fondor's star not being close enough to the center of the galaxy.

Yet as the years had dragged on, hardened hearts against the Starbird had softened, no less aided by the Confederacy's mistreatment and then straight-up insults towards a world they had relied on for their war material and defense infrastructure. With cracks showing, Alban had already begun preparations to have Fondor secede first, and look at a relationship with the Alliance to protect their independence from a vengeful Confederacy. But then the Confederacy had completed Alban's work for him by collapsing, and suddenly Fondor was free.

Free only for now, with their new 'masters' eyeing them like a particularly-delicious course set in front of them. As scheming or manipulative as he was, Alban had to be careful with his next moves less his ascent be further mired in the muck of other's machinations.

The Director of Roble Manufacturing took his chair among the other seats of the Guild's council, a lucrative position bought through hefty fees contributed towards the Guild's finances and Fondor patriotism. As others were seated, the Chairman -- head of the guild and a member of Fondor's aristocracy, rather than its corporatocracy, as to ensure a balance between the megacorporations and citizens -- rose to convene the meeting.

"We welcome all to the 1784th covering of the Fondor Guild of Starshipwrights, in the year 874 ABY," the Chairman began ponderously. "Before we begin, the Guild would like to recognize our newest member, Versili Fleet Systems, who officially joins us today," the ancient official said, extending a hand towards Adam Versili. Alban joined in the polite applause, but his eyes betrayed his cold calculations as he studied the man. Alban was well aware that this 'Versili Fleet Systems' was a glorified subsidiary corporation, a branch from the Intergalactic Shipping Collective, but the Guild had seemed more than welcome to accept the company once the appropriate tributes had been secured. Alban though was still suspicious and had a feeling that the ISC had some design for Fondor.

"We would also like to acknowledge the news that has been passed around the lips of everyone here today: the entry of Fondor into the Galactic Alliance. Fondor looks forward to the cooperative and mutually-beneficial relationship that will exist between our world and the worlds of the free Galactic Alliance. And with the results of the special election, we are proud to announce that Alban Roble has been certified as Fondor's first Senator and Representative in the Galactic Senate -- may he carry Fondor's bests interests at home and abroad." Alban accepted the much larger applause with a wave, though there was some consternation as opponents booed. If anyone thing was assured, it was that the Lodge was definitely packed tonight. "And now, we open the floor for guests to address the Guild with matters of business if there is any to be had," the Chairman concluded before slowly taking his seat.
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[Seto Du Couteau]

Seto Du Couteau, Senator of Empress Teta
Objective Three: Chief Executive
Action: Enjoying the Parade
Attire

Several days ago. . . .

Seto sat patiently in his seat, the stone table provided ample room for his hands to tap across but such fidgets were generally frowned upon by the present company of Nobles and family Matriarch. He was not exactly sensing a welcoming feeling from any of the Nobles sitting across from him but that was how these meetings usually went. Especially if I was the one to call them.

The matter at hand was a serious topic though, so while the displeasure in the room was palpable, they all remained quiet and kept their annoyances and anger in their eyes. Seto stood up, hoping to relieve some of the tension in the air with his voice. “I am thankful for your attendance, and I do not take your valuable time for granted.” Seto started off with the standard pleasantries.

“I know I have kept the Empress Throne empty since before I became your Senator for the Alliance. A sacrifice you all were willing to make to keep the peace with the Industrialist Leaders.” Seto feigned an apologetic tone, he was rather impressed with himself really that he had kept it that way for such a long time.

“-But now it seems fate has brought us a gift that even I cannot ignore.” Seto gestured with both hands.

One of the Nobles cleared her throat and spoke out, “-You’ve seemed to keep us all in mystery, I know you gathered several minor families for this ‘parade’ of yours, but you still need our support.”

Seto offered a growing impish smile, “-More than just a few, but yes your support, the legacy your families have with the planet will ensure a peaceful transition of our new Empress’s ascension to the throne.”

“What do you wish to know about her?”

Present Day. . . . .

The streets of Cinnagar were filled with happy citizens, celebrating the news that their throne would no longer remain empty. The new Empress had garnered the support of not just several minor noble families, but with the added support of several major Noble families, the Senator had ordered festivities to be held in the Capital City Cinnagar. A parade was being held, rows and rows of Noble Family House guards marched through the streets, and the people enjoyed the sights of fireworks, street vendors and even more street entertainment of flame breathers and magicians.

The people of Teta were more than just excited for their new Empress, but also the refugees that had been granted a new home on Teta. The crowds were filled with people from all over the galaxy, all escaping the gruesome war of the South and later in the North with the forces of the Maw. The Senator had kept a rather open border policy when it came to refugees, accepting tens of thousands on a near monthly basis. The people in the streets were not just citizens that had seen Empresses before, but new Citizens that have chosen Teta as their new home. So rumors that the bloodline of the Empress was questioned, it was hardly an issue with a growing non-Tetan born citizenry.

Seto for his part smiled, his eyes enjoying the view from the main city square. While it was a bit brave to go out into the city, fortunately the young Du Couteau heir was rather disguised. Not through his own efforts, but through the efforts of the people of Teta. Nearly half of the crowd wore capes, many in the style of their Senator and many still in the white and blue colors. Seto was rather amused to see so many capes, different colors and styles, he was rather impressed with the efforts with the capes.
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[Aryn Teth]

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Roon Vindar | Thrassk​

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Compared to today's headlines, the disappearance of a new luxury yacht during a test flight was practically dull. Publically, suspected faults with a hyperdrive had caused such a craft to go missing, but privately a few executives of a Fondorian corporation were contracting mercenaries and muscle for a rescue operation. The craft itself had of course been intercepted by pirates in the Giju system - and while unwilling to negotiate with pirates and pay a ransom, the CEO of this particular corporation had been unwilling to let the ships test pilot - her son - rot in pirate custody.​

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To that end, a trio of individuals had been hired for the retrieval, two of the individuals who seemed to have worked together before, the third individual - secretly the masked Aryn Teth - had been hired on recommendation. Despite having next to no information on the individual, the head of security in charge of hiring for the operation was reluctant to ignore an endorsement that came from a legendary name like Koda Fett. Thus, Aryn's identity had been kept secret. Instead of working alongside the former Supreme Commander, Roon and Thrassk had taken up work with an individual that identified himself simply by the name 'Achared' - an old Echani word Teth doubted either of them would know.​

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With the pirates operations in the system largely diverted to protecting their more significant assets and fighting off the sudden incursion of Galactic Alliance forces, the bulk of forces that would have ordinarily filled the offshore compound in Giju were offworld. It was far from undefended still, but the gaps in security created by panic had meant the trio's loaned submersible had docked undetected.​

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Climbing from the vehicle where it sat at a lower maintenance dock, Teth's masked visage turned upwards, wandering over the struts over them, the maze of ladders and walkways that would lead them into the compound proper. "Chances are security inside will be tighter, stealth might not be as simple from there." He commented idly as he turned his gaze over to the pair of mercenaries he was contracted alongside.​

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Honestly, neither of them seemed to be experts in the matter of stealth, at least by his estimation.​

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[Leon Gallo]

Patrol duty. What the hell had the Revenants done to deserve patrol duty? Sure, Fondor was the site of talks involving some of the richest people in the galaxy, and yeah, He and a few other pilots had buzzed a commodore’s transport for fun, but that was hardly enough to justify this punishment! WIth a sigh, Leon leaned back in his cockpit, staring out into the interstellar void. Nothing interesting ever happened on patrol duty.

A beeping proved him wrong. A distress signal had been picked up nearby.

“K-M, check on it’s vector,”

{“This is Seven, I’m picking up a distress beacon nearby. Gonna go check it out.”}

Checking the heading his astromech had given, Revenant Seven turned, rocketing towards the source of the signal. It wasn’t far, barely a minute or two out. Suddenly, the signal went out. Scanners were picking up two vessels in the area the signal had come from. Maybe they’d already gotten help? Flipping on his comms equipment, Leon hailed the two ships.


{“Attention distressed vessel, this is Revenant Seven of the Galactic Alliance Starfighter Corps. Are you still in need of assistance?”}


Cass Gemini

 

[Silver Shield Group]

GIJU - KOJULNA ARCHIPELAGO
HONAR - DISPOSAL SITE GAMMA

Like maggots on a bloated corpse, the Bando Gora have started appearing periodically on former Confederate worlds. Fortunately the Silver Shield Group was around to pick up the slack.​

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But the interesting part is already over. Sorry.​

Smoke rises in thick pillars sporadically across the archipelago, signaling the exact areas Silver Shield gunships unloaded their weapons into Bando Gora outposts. Maybe some of those outposts had once been structures or settlements owned by the natives. It didn't matter, really. "Everything must go!" was the Commerce Guild's general sentiment towards the region anyway.​

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Honar was one of the larger islands, and it had been hit particularly hard. A dispatch of Silver Shield contractors took turns heaping dead bodies into a precisely dug ditch. Six meters each way to accommodate this quadrant's deceased. Most of the Bando Gora here were nautolans. It figured. The tropical climate probably agreed with them.​

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What was less agreeable was the stench. GK-1319 suspected the smell was similar to a hideously burnt frog. Seared slime. Rotten stuff. He hadn't noticed his helmet's air filters were busted until now and was sure paying the price for it.​

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Another corpse tumbled into the pit. One of the contractors, BP-1120, dusted her hands as she and her partner walked away from it. "All of these freak nautolans are grinning. It's creeping me out."​

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"Nautolans do that when they die," GK-1319 replied, giving the screen of his datapad another flick. "Something about the way the skin dries up."​

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YU-4902, her partner, shook his head. "Gross."​

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"Dying is gross business. Discuss the logistics of it later. Get back to work."​

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They made their way back to the pile, just as another pair were coming forward with another unfortunate nautolan. When the recruitment pamphlets said they would see the galaxy, this was not exactly what GK had in mind.​

 

[Aerarii Tithe]

OPEN FOR BUSINESS
THE LODGE // FONDOR

Niki Priddy | Luca Caldogne | Dorian Sevanar | Isar | Josephine Halscott | Alban Roble

Fewer buildings in the galaxy saw the same volume of credits pass through them as the infamous Lodge, a rare bright light of commerce outside the Core and the Muun systems. The imposing structure lorded physically over the surrounding Fondor cityscape and economically over the Colonies Region. And by the end of this meeting - if all went to plan - even more credits would grace these hallowed halls and line the pockets of its occupants.

“Is it truly a pleasure to confer with the renowned Guild of Shipwrights,” Tithe explained as he rose from his seat. “And, let me start by staying, that your gracious hospitality is impeccable as ever.” Tithe had attended the Lodge on a number of occasions to make and facilitate deals. Today stood to be his most profitable to date.

“As you are undoubtedly aware, manufacturing capacity in the Core is, uhh, we let’s just say our position is unenviable.” The actions of major shipbuilding words, which could only be described as treasonous, had put pressure on the GADF right when they needed ships to push back the Maw and patrol the border with the NIO. Simple economics - supply needed to keep pace with demand, lest the market distort.

“As our newest Senator so elequantly put it, the Alliance looks forwar to a prosperous relationships with Fondor.” The Chancellor nodded to Alban. He could make a valuable addition to the Corporatist Party. “And if I may be so bold, I do believe you’ll find the business environment of the Core to be, ahh, amicable.”

“Lucractive government contracts, access to the markets of the Core, and a legislature which values the rights of honest businessbeings to earn a living. Yes, the Alliance has a great deal it can offer Fondor.”

 

[Roon Vindar]

Aryn Teth | Thrassk ​

He eyed Thrassk from beneath the T, the Trandoshan near unable to commit to stealth. It amused the Mandalorian as much as it had been the cause of annoyance, their encounters hindered by the cumbersome footfalls of an alien believed to be a hunter; it was the downside of his stature, Roon decided for himself, even if as much was not to be mentioned to Thrassk. Doubtless to initiate another senseless debate as the Trandoshan was wont to do. If he had the chance, Thrassk was to be left behind for now.

Roon committed himself to stealth on most occasions, the avoidance of conflict benefited them all - less expenses, better returns. He never hesitated to pull the trigger once needed, no, but ammunition saved was one more credit in his pocket.

"You and I should scout ahead," he said, a finger pointed between himself and the stranger. He turned back over to Thrassk, next. "You best stay here until we know what we're up against."

 

[Niki Priddy]

FONDOR
THE LODGE​

Objective: Open For Business
Weapon: 'Revy'
Equipment: PCA/EA, x2 Hutt Cartel Kidnap Jabber Rings-One on either hand, ENVC-370 Bodyglove, Tinfoil Hat Band, Earsculpt Comlink, Magno-grip Formal shoes
Augmentation: PGEM-SAP "Amber Eyes"
Ship: The Tourist
Aboard the Ship: x2 Nuisance Engine Mark I Droids capable of producing Nuisance Droid Mark I

More were gathering, some placing themselves around their associates while others had made their way to the main gathering and seated themselves accordingly.

Senators and upper echelon corporate entities alike seemed to grace the arrangement.

She couldn't help but grin at the sight.

Her interest quickly left the fledgling groups that skirted the main show, eyes fixating on those actually speaking on the matter as she approached and garnered space around the outer ring. Her stare stilling an attempt to keep her shoved outside the wall of desperate credit-jockeys.

The first to speak was one of the Fondor Guild, though her attentions were fixated on Alban Roble.

A creative and ingenious man in his own right, though largely settled into much grander visions as opposed to her own delightfully smaller creations. Nothing the matter with that path, just wasn't particularly her favorite. Her appeal was the larger though tighter pocketed fish in the galactic sea of opportunity.

Meanwhile, Alban hooked sea monsters with grace.

The cold look that crossed his features with the lackluster applause for the 'welcoming' of the smaller company had her glancing to the other being. A smile that hid fangs. A smile that believed itself worthy of the arena it had been thrust into. Fangs dwarfed by the long in the tooth assembly surrounding them but blinded by opportunity to see the puppeteer over them.

Her gaze drifted back to Alban, the auditory processing of her enhancement allowing her to catch every word as the dampner in her ear stiffled the surrounding applause. Attuned to the man's voice, she heard his words while watching the others body language.

She didn't envy the position Roble had under his thumb. The tight rope of securing deals while escalating himself to the position of senator amongst those that had settled themselves in like a sargonian behemoth tick was...unsettling for her. The representatives words concluded, the next to speak was a being that even the most south-facing rock dweller should recognize.

Aerarii Tithe.

While a notorious tightwad, he had a phrik-trap of a mind for business. She had to respect his willingness to step onto the field of battle for the sake of business.

The measure of his words were familiar, complimenting, and he seemed comfortable enough without letting his nerves play havoc on his body language. At least in the introductory phase of his words. The soft twitch of her brow at the increase in spacing between his words directed at his hosts for explanations.

Stalling? Doubtful. Putting on airs? Possible. Downplaying worry? Highly likely.

The core was struggling with the latest in production information. Supply chains stretched across the galaxy through large and small producers, suppliers, and delivery services alike. Time and patience as much a virtue as idle chatter between dock hands to close to a closed circuit security system.

A cut off of goods here, a shortage there. Dangerous or strict corridors throughout this stretch of lane. Pieces of a puzzle that didn't need much sorting when a war was going.

Hot or cold.

The choice of words left little to her imagination, the most profitable place to be was in the newly minted Fondor Senatorial seat. She wondered silently how quickly the workload would burn out the organics and how quickly they would be replaced.

She didn't have much room to argue that point herself. Terminus Rêve was exclusively a droid operated production line. Out of her own paranoia and of simple ergonomics. Space was unforgiving, and she wasn't about to bring strangers into her home just to get spaced by their own incompetence.
Aside from that, she had never made a promise to Emberlene beyond a healthy tax rate for her continued presence.

With the largest fish present, she watched for others to throw themselves into the pond while deciding her own actions. Eyes moving between the seated and the crowd, watching.

Luca Caldogne | Dorian Sevanar | Isar | Josephine Halscott | Alban Roble | Aerarii Tithe
​

 

[Silver Shield Group]

Gideon Ract ​

GIJU - KOJULNA ARCHIPELAGO
HONAR - DISPOSAL SITE GAMMA

Progress is a delicate word. Had they made progress in dumping Bando Gora corpses into the ditch? Yes. Had another speeder-truck load been dropped off in the meantime? Also yes. Had they run out of space in the first ditch and now had to patiently wait for the auto-excavator to dig out another? That's another yes. Three in a row. Someone should get a prize.​

​

This suited GK-1319 fine. It gave him more time to fill out these damn reports. Or he thought it would, up until YU-4902 nudged his shoulder. "Hey, lieutenant. I thought the locals were leaving."​

​

"They are."​

​

"Then who's that coming over?"​

​

A wicked combination of dread and annoyance had already seized GK's cybernetic heart. He looked up, followed YU's gaze, and saw them. Three herglics marching on over. Huge, sleek-skinned beasts. Two younger specimens, hale, hardy, and upright. Then an older one, more bent but no less towering, with duller skin, laced with cracks.​

​

Wherever he went, GK-1319 preferred not to deal with the locals. The useless loincloths only ever got in the way. Now they were coming to him, directly, for no discernible reason. They marched right up to him. YU-4902 excused himself, like the bastard he was.​

​

The older one spoke first, in a withered but no less reverberating tone, "You are a lieutenant, yes?"​

​

"Yes. GK-1319. Dispatch Blue 4," he spoke in an even and professional tone, which did nothing to betray the racist diatribes which waltzed in his mind, "Is there something I can help you with?"​

​

The Bando Gora had tried to make use of these herglics. Like idiots. They still wore the signs of their imprisonment: tattered jumpsuits, broken manacles. It wasn't like they had anything else to change into.​

​

"We wished to thank you for restoring our lands, hauum," the old one continued, "With the Bando Gora gone, we can finally pick up our lives."​

​

There was a small explosion in the far distance. Probably an exposed fuel line. These things happen. GK-1319 didn't look, but the three herglics did, frowning. GK did not wait for their attention to return. "I'm not sure what you mean. The Kojulna Archipelago is now a Commerce Guild-administered dependency."​

​

The old one's sad, wet eyes snapped back to him. GK-1319 could see it now: the old whale had heard this before, he just didn't want to believe it. Denial wasn't just a river basin on the moon of Hotep-7, as it turned out. Now he thought he could talk himself out of it by talking to random contractors who looked like they were in charge.​

​

"These islands have belonged to the five clans since the time of the Old Republic, haaum. You can't just take them."​

​

But that was what the Bando Gora, of all people, did. Loincloths were always such sore losers. GK-1319 suppressed the urge to shrug. "The Commerce Guild has been issued the relevant permits by the planetary government, contingent on pacifying Bando Gora operations. It's already signed and sealed."​

​

"They are not theirs to give."​

​

"It's not my call. Sorry," GK-1319 looks between the three, visor blank and pitiless as the sun. "Was there something else I could help you with?"​

​

The old one bared his teeth, exposing rows of perfectly white teeth. Fin shaped. He ran his tongue over them, doubtlessly savoring what he was about to say next. "I want to speak to your supervisor."​

​

No matter where you worked, there was always that one customer. Figures. Not enough that the Silver Shield Group saved their oily skins from the Bando Gora, they wanted someplace to live, too. Typical entitled loincloths.​

​

GK-1319 did not sigh audibly and impatiently, because that would be unprofessional. But he really wanted to. His comlink clicked to life, and he spoke flatly into the relevant channel:​

​

"Director Ract, your presence is requested at Disposal Site Gamma."​

 

[Luca Caldogne]

Objective: Conduct Business
Participants: Dorian Sevanar | Josephine Halscott | Alban Roble | Aerarii Tithe | Niki Priddy
Directly: Isar

"Ah, Marcus."

Luca turned away from the celebratory clapping to meet Tritum's approach with a patient smile. He wondered why the man wouldn't just get himself a leg prosthetic. He certainly borrowed enough money to afford it. Maybe it was a little trick Tritum played. Make people wait on him. This could put them off-balance to abuse it at the right moment.

Some had extraordinary levels of patience however.

"Trust me when I say that nothing can ruin my appetite." murmured calmly as he chuckled lightly at the revelry and back-clapping. "Looks like they have it in the bag, so perhaps we can go on to our next appointment?"

Part of him was surprised at how quickly the election was decided. Where were the last-minute explosions ruining the event? But maybe Luca grew paranoid with age.

Unless Marcus disagreed he'd make his way out. There would be a shuttle waiting for the both of them. Business couldn't always wait.

 

[Isar]

“You know-“ Marcus looked over at the group that may as well have been labeled Team Roble, then he just shook his head.

How that former CIS loyalist had managed to worm his way into the Alliance upper echelons was impressive. Almost as impressive as him gaining a seat on the Guild of Starshipwrights.

He wasn’t even Fondorian!

“Never mind.”

Recognizing a lost cause when he saw it, Tritum turned and started walking toward the door with Luca.

“The Pontiff will be waiting.”

Meeting a genuine Fondorian master shipwright was an interesting prospect that put a spring in his step.

“I’ve heard his sect views ship building like a religion. I’m something of a rare cults enthusiast myself.”

 

[Dracken Pryce]

FONDOR - Orbital Shipyard Platforms
The Coaxium Must Flow - BYOO
​

The last time Pryce had been in the Fondor System were the waning days of the Old GA. Endgame. He wasn't sure if it had been colloquial or the official military operation name for the combined, but the word repeated itself over and over in his mind as his shuttle approached the shipyard world. While not as prolific as the yards of Kuat or Corellia, it was much closer in comparison to Maw-controlled space which meant faster supply, faster repairs, and reliable reinforcements to the various fronts in the Unknown Regions. With Bilbringi's shipyards in an open strike against the Alliance, they had lost one of their most important yards for the continued support of the Chiss Ascendancy in their fight against the Maw, and despite the queasy feeling in his stomach thinking about that battle all those years ago, Fondor was the next best thing.

He, a few members from the committee on defense, and some of the Admiralty were being given tours of the Fondor orbital yards. They had come a long way in twenty years under the direction and supervision of the 'Guild'. The Fondor Independent Shipyards and Roble along with a few other smaller companies had done solid work for the CIS, but with them gone almost overnight and the encroaching Maw it had only been a matter of time before one or the other reached out to secure some kind of deal. Kuat had forced the Alliance to reach out first though.

"And as you can see, the output these platforms can put out now dwarfs our previous numbers by over 90%! Where it used to take us months to pump out something like say, one of them old First Order resurgents, no we could do it in weeks!"

"How many of these newer platforms do you have operational?" The Twi'lek guide tapped a grease-stained glove against his work pants in thought.

"Oh, I'd say about 47 of the platforms are operational in orbit right now. Think there's at least three of 'em we haven't fully brought online just yet." Pryce's eyebrows rose and he decided to speak up.

"So what, that's 50 of these platforms in total?"

"Yessir! Along with the older model platforms and a few of those old Mandalorian drydocks. Obviously, we do a lot of building planetside as well." Pryce let out a low whistle. If Corellia and Kuat weren't careful Fondor would surpass them in no time flat.