Second Contact [The Kathol Outback Dominion of Resu Hex - Witchmasters Invited]

[Gir Quee]

LL-1500 Stellar Wind, Aries, Arcadia N-30

[7/38]

Gir considered how to best answer that question. Lucerne Labs drew upon a lot of inspiration from the old CEC engineering culture before the Gulag plague. Rather than rely on massive government contracts like Kuat or Rendili, they attempted to appeal their products to the common man and every day company. Part of that approach demanded knowing the needs, abilities, and realities of the everyday ship owner.

"I can't guarantee complete compatibility to all models of starships," said Gir, "but in the stock and unmodified version, the Zephyr works with about 85% of vessels in its size range. With some minor modifications, it works in close to around 95% of all starships. Most of that is simply adjusting the hyperspace bubble to fit the geometry of the ship at hand. The ships that usually aren't compatible with it use nonstandard technology that is either exceptionally simple, something like a Selonian Cone ship, or is rather exotic, like organic technology that many Vong starships rely on.

However, since you mentioned new construction, I would imagine that it should be a relatively simple task to integrate the Zephyr into whatever you are planning. The Zephyr uses standard data ports and power conduit connections that are compliant with industry set standards. They can also be fitted with various adapters to use other, local technical standards. Can you tell me a little bit more about what you intend to use them for? I might be able to better answer any compatibility questions about it with a little bit more information."

 

[Zak Dymo]

ARCADIA-N-30
Post 3 of 30
Objective: Corellia Digital Trade Show
Gear: X-30 "Lancer" Blast Pistol | HoloLink

She had to admit, she wouldn't have imagined they could get trade flowing through this part of space again so quickly.

The Covenant of the Black Rose, the Pimbrellan League, the Qektoth Confederacy... there were any number of political forces that seemed poised to mire the Kathol Sector into socioeconomic stagnation, yet the Underground had really managed to bring people from disparate parts of the sector together.

The fact that they could get a trade show going on Arcadia-N-30 was evidence of some hope for the future in this sector.

The Nadesico was in orbit, its Niathal-class shuttles ferrying goods and supplied down to the landing field. Speeders moved the merchandise to where the make-shift Corellia Digital Store was set up, with everything from refurbished computer components to subspace radios available for trade or barter.

As the woman oversaw the storefront, her grey eyes surveyed out into the trade show itself. There seemed a fair showing of companies. And some from distant parts of the galaxy. That spoke well of the Underground as well. They had a network of contacts, and they weren't afraid to leverage those.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

AARIS III
Post 4 of 30
Objective: Doin' my own thing
Gear: Paperweight | DC-17 Hand Blaster

A yellow blade broke through the ceiling.

Making a quick, circular cut, the now severed panel fell in amid a deluge of beer, blood, and broken glass.

The small Anzat flipped as he vaulted from out of the hole down into the cellar. The sound of the repeating blaster echoed like thunder, as the small Jedi found himself looking around a storage basement. Shadows moving along the walls betrayed the fact that they were not alone. As the Nightsister dropped down behind him, the small boy was already moving to block a volley of blaster shots.

"You had a plan for getting us in here..." Ce'Nedra snapped, as the Nightsister went to work striking out with the Force. "Did you have a plan for getting us out?"

"One thing at a time," the boy snapped back, weaving the lightsaber blade around. Stretching out with his left hand, a beer keg went flying across the room. Smashing into a gaggle of Weequay, the effect was akin to bowling. As that created a break in the blaster fire coming at them, the boy shut down the lightsaber and returned it to his belt. Pulling the blaster from out of its holster, he made his way toward the door into the basement.

"It won't take them long to figure out we're not up in the bar," the boy cautioned. "Or where we went."

"Well, we're not going back up there," Ce'Nedra snapped. A motion of her hand triggering the door controls and sealing off the basement from the steps that the boy was watching. Hesitating a moment, the young woman pointed toward a passage on the other side of the basement. "There."

With a shrug, the boy started over toward where she had indicated. As he did, the looked up to ask, "You have no idea where you're going, do you?"

"Anywhere's better than here."

 

[Iron Giant]

Realm of Resu - Retreating from the surface of Ysraka​

​

The problem of rescuing an entirely aquatic species wasn't the fact they were being guarded by what were essentially eldritch abominations, but by the fact that they were an entirely aquatic species which needed to be taken off world, which meant big large tanks of native water which had to be escorted off the planet. This made rescue operations, extremely difficult logistically. Sometimes they could supply life support suits, but a lot of times it could be a native's first time putting one on, and operating a biped a design when you are used to laterally swimming, is a bit like throwing a humanoid baby in water and hoping it learns how to swim. Other times though, they'll rescue a few veterans who can put them on and actually use them to not only facilitate escape but also to help transporting those without available life support suits in their stasis capsules.

Stasis technology, like those booths find in either advanced medical facilities or in unique high-security prisons, were a recent technological find for the CybeResu, once again using their contacts through Iron Giant to secure legitimate (and sometimes illegitimate) purchase of these booths. Their introduction had increased their refugee carrying capacity by at least a dozen fold.

Iron Giant herself, was resting beside one as their escape vessel bolted through space at near lightspeed on a long windy route to make pursuers lose their trail as they entered a far orbit where the Realm asteroid belt lay, and where the CybeResu Asteroid waited. They came bearing patients and subjects for study and medicinal treatment. And for one: a casket.

She lost Bronze Tusk, a noble warrior who would have become a Veteran this year, fought to his dying breathe before succumbing to that dreadful plague. There was only so much their technology could do to resist that nightmarish disease. She could hardly believe something so horrifying could exist for her people, and although she was glad she assist them after her exile, she would feel cowardly to say she was glad she escaped their fate. It was a fate she wouldn't want on anyone, but if it meant staying the Resu she felt she was at heart, she would never have left.

"Iron Giant, welcomed return. Mission success?" An intercom questioned her in basic.

"Affirmative. One causality, twelve patients recovered." They were minutes away from the Asteroid now.

[member="Neelig Waawat"], [member="Bryce Bantam"]

(Post 9)

 

[Nate Phantoms]

Location: Aris III
Objective: take the fortress.
Allies: [member="Joza Perl"], [member="Tilzi"], [member="Asemir Lor'kora"] and [member="Aerin Kath"]

OOC/ Yay! Glowstick time!


The group was split in two, one was the distraction, the other the infiltration team. He had decided to begin with the distraction, more or less as "back up". The witches weren't very fond of having someone else do their work for them, sure as hell not some male, of all things. So he'd sit there, his black cloak billowing in the wind gently, the cowls of his hood casting his face in shadows.

Sitting atop a log, his blade rested over his knees, as his burning eyes watched the wall before him. The time was ripe, they'd have to strike while the iron was hot.

 

[Joza Perl]

Location: Aaris III
Allies: [member="Aerin Kath"], [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"], [member="Tilzi"], [member="Asemir Lor'kora"]
Objective: Liberation!
Post: 7

It was hard to miss the imposing figure of Nate, and the fact that he was hanging back with the witches made Joza arch a brow. “We could use someone like you for the infiltration.” A pause, and she looked him up and down. “As long as you keep your head down.” As long as he was properly concealed and knew how to move, he probably wouldn’t give his smaller companions away. Perhaps he was not confident in his ability to be sneaky, hence her not pushing the subject too much.

She drifted away from Nate, moving swiftly to catch up with the others until the forested area opened up into a flat plane. The Zeltron had always been light on her feet, and would slowly work her way towards the compound with the others.

Like Tilzi, she had taken care to conceal her bright red hair. The dark headscarf was wound tightly around her head, crossing over the lower half of her face to reduce the appearance of her vibrant pink skin. Even for one of a race so colorful, she figured out how not to blend in.

As they crept towards the fortress, Joza gathered the Force to her in preparation. Of what, she wasn’t sure—but in case the guns turned on them, she’d be able to weave a barrier in front of her comrades.

 

[Zak Dymo]

ARCADIA-N-30
Post 5 of 30
Objective: Corellia Digital Trade Show
Gear: X-30 "Lancer" Blast Pistol | HoloLink

The CD-9 series subspace radios were a hit.

Particularly with the work that [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] had done to provide subspace radio coverage in the Marcol Void, and [member="Bryce Bantam"]'s Search-and-Rescue units now providing emergency services, there was a sense of stability beginning to form that had been absent for some time.

It wasn't perfect. It wasn't complete. But it struck the former Levantine explorer as a damn good start.

The HoloLink on her wrist buzzed. A swipe of her finger across the glasteel and she brought her wrist up toward her head. "Marc. Go."

"We're picking up a distress call from the edge of the system. Com-scan detects high energy particles occurring sporadically in that sector."

High energy particles.

It was 'industry speak' for blaster fire.

"Break orbit and proceed. Should you encounter hostile fire, you'll know what to do," the woman answered evenly. There was no purpose in holding her people back, or telling them how to do their jobs. If they weren't competent, she wouldn't have hired them for the Nadesico's crew.

She hesitated for a moment, considering joining them in the Niathal-class shuttle that she'd brought down when they'd delivered the goods to the trade show.

Except that would leave the personnel working the trade show alone and unafraid.

It was a gambit, and not entirely one that she was comfortable with. "Check in when you've made contact. Marc, out," the woman uttered, internally kicking herself, but resigning to the fact that she couldn't be in two places at once.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

AARIS III
Post 6 of 30
Objective: Doin' my own thing
Gear: Paperweight | DC-17 Hand Blaster

On the run and shooting randomly behind him.

It was like that Sabaac tournament on Formos all over again. Which might also explain why the young Anzat was persona non grata on the former Hutt Cartel controlled world.

"Whoa!"

Skidding to a short stop, the small boy held out a hand to brace Ce'Nedra as the pair arrived at the end of the road. That being, a hallway that ended in a short ramp jutting out from the cliff face. It was a skiff landing of some sort. Which made it a dead end for the two of them, as the sheer drop at the end of the ramp stared straight down into a seemingly bottomless abyss.

Blaster fire shot over the Anzat's head, as the boy turned and fired a few volleys in a vain effort at staving off the encroaching pirates.

"Any more bright ideas?" the boy tossed flippantly over at the Nightsister.

"Me?" the young woman snarled back, angrily. "I'm not the one who got us into this mess."

"I'm not the one who got us into this mess," the boy echoed mockingly, stepping to the side as a pair of blaster bolts sailed by his shoulder, before leaning into another shot of his own. This one caught a Weequay square in the chest, knocking him down to the floor.

"Oh, what are you? Ten?" the Nightsister demanded, frustration claiming her voice as she pulled at her hair and looked down at the...

...at the youngling.

"I withdraw the question," the Nightsister noted flatly.

 

[Aerin Kath]

Location: Aaris-III
Allies: [member="Tilzi"], [member="Joza Perl"], [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"], [member="Asemir Lor'kora"]
Objective: Free the slaves
Gear: Clothes he had stated before, as well as his pistols, a few materials, tools and T3-M80 who had taken quite a while to get here.
Post:6


Aerin found it hard to compare himself to the more combat oriented of his companions, but he was clever enough to know how to make explosives, and he knew that those explosives were a great distraction. He should know, he used that type of explosive enough times to know Guards and other people couldn't resist the spectacle, but he couldn't help but feel a bit exposed at the edge of the purposeful clearing of jungle leading up to the fortress of the slavers with guards firing pot-shots and shouting insults from so far it couldn't be understood at what they said. "now this is going to be a bit difficult for the stealth crew... think It'd be a good idea for another distraction, or is this enough for the time being?" His hands were idly fiddling with his pistols as the shots passed by into the jungle, Matey his droid had quite a hard time catching up, but was here as well, helping where he could.

Aerin was nervous, though not enough to get on his speeder and go back to his ship, he still had enough parts for a few more makeshift bombs for the witches to throw just in case his fears do come to pass, and he knew that every little helps in this case. Man I wish Tulsnam was here to talk to me. this was a mundane thought compared to what he *should* be thinking in a combat situation.

 

[Zak Dymo]

ARCADIA-N-30
Post 7 of 30
Objective: Corellia Digital Trade Show
Gear: X-30 "Lancer" Blast Pistol | HoloLink

Perhaps she was just being paranoid.

As the hustle and bustle of the trade show remained an unchanged normal, the woman was kicking herself for not taking the Niathal and joining up with the Nadesico. A dust up with some pirates was more her style. Watching the store front just made her feel... old.

Never mind the realities of that statement.

A chirping sound caught her eager attention. The ship must have made contact. Tapping the HoloLink, the woman was hanging in anticipation as she uttered the pro forma. "Marc, go."

"The distress beacon must have been a false reading..."

The woman's blood ran cold before the man could finish the rest of his sentence.

"Chit."

"...there's no sign of any vessels out here."

The force of displaced air knocked the woman to the ground. An odd sensation of being deaf disorienting her with the sensory deprivation, before the realization that she'd been struck by an explosive shockwave kicked in. Sand and small rocked rained down on her, coating her in dirt, as the whitening blond looked up in time to see the familiar shape of a Z-95 Headhunter blasting its engines in a low overflight.

The hot wash from the repulsors sent a gale force blast of air out over the Corellia Digital display, lifting her up one moment though she didn't regain her balance, and was quickly planted back on her backside. She had back and joint pain shooting up all over the place, holding up a hand in vain as she tried to squint against the sand blowing around in the air.

A repeating blaster sent a quick succession of shots into the air, as a trio of speeders glided into the mess. The pirates on board, smashed the display, going a snatch-and-grab of the Corellia Digital merchandise there.

Aisha struggled to get to her feet, discovering that this was a hell of time for her knee to lock up on her.

All right, gods damn it, she was too old for this.

Pulling at the small blaster on her hip, the woman managed to yank the pistol free as the speeders began racing off. She got three trigger pulls off before the wash of sand caused her to have to turn her head away. The first two went wild, but the third caught the pirate bringing up the rear across the temple. The man went limp, flying over the handlebars as the speeder went nose first into a collection of rubbish bins.

Hobbling toward the downed speeder, the Corellian woman was cursing under her breath with every labored step. The trade show workers, a pair of twenty-nothings who'd huddled clueless during the robbery, were now rushing over toward her.

"Signal the Nadesico, then hold down the shop here until the authorities arrive," the woman managed, gritting her teeth against the back in her pain. Or the pain in her right wrist. Or the fact that her knee was still locked up.

Wait, this was the Outback. Were there any authorities?

"What are you going to do, Ma'am?"

Ma'am?

When the hell had she gotten so old that twenty-nothing started referring to her as 'ma'am'?

...

On second thought, don't answer that.

"A ride," Aisha answered brusquely, her hand twisting the throttle as she brought the speeder's repulsors to life.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

AARIS III
Post 8 of 30
Objective: Doin' my own thing
Gear: Paperweight | DC-17 Hand Blaster

Their backs to an abyss, and an army of pirates trying to shoot them off the side of a cliff.

There was a metaphor in all this. He wasn't sure exactly what the metaphor was, but he was certain there was one.

Crouching down, the boy found himself in a stalemate waiting for his blaster cartridge to either run out of tibana gas or blaster bolts. In either event, they weren't going to be in any enviable position.

Faintly, in the distance, the boy thought he heard a familiar sound.

It was a moment before his mind placed it. Turning his head, the boy looked over at the Nightsister and said, "Jump."

"Are you nuts!?"

That was a somewhat less than productive response. "Trust me!" the boy answered.

"I DON'T!"

Well, at least she was honest.

With a casual wave of his hand, the young Anzat sent the Nightsister over the edge of the cliff. There was something satisfying about the blood-curdling scream echoing through the canyon as she fell.

"Everyone's a critic," the boy noted, holstering the blaster as he went diving over the edge after her.

 

[Nate Phantoms]

Location: Aris III
Objective: decide his course of action.
Allies: [member="Tilzi"], [member="Asemir Lor'kora"], [member="Aerin Kath"] and the one and only [member="Joza Perl"].

He stayed silent as she sized him up, listening to the sounds of the nocturnal wildlife around him, and of course her. He didn't know anyone else beside her and Tilzi that were infiltrating, but he figured that the guards wouldn't want to miss the chance of killing the notorious "Bounty Hunter". All that time with [member="Bryce Bantam"] had played off, the whispers of his name could be heard throughout the region, and that wasn't so bad, but he wasn't one to draw unnecessary attention to him self.

As she moved away from him to catch up with her team, he would ask the witch beside him if there was absolutely any reason to him to stay back. She told him no, that little womanly smirk that they tend to get when they are thinking of how stupid males are. As soon as she finished, he rose, concealing the blade of his Vibro sword and pulling one of his sabers off his belt, the dull hilt fitting into his hand perfectly as he bolted over a fallen tree, past a few surprised witches and out into the open, a few feet behind Joza, but that distance soon disappeared as he close the ground in a few strides, using the Force to enhance his speed, not that he wasn't already slow.

Not being able to completely stop, he slid into the wall, arm outstretched to steady himself and placed over Joza's head, the leaves billowing behind him. "Room for one more?" His eyes went up, alert, hearing the sounds of the guards above. Looking back down, he regarded her scarf, the fabric brushing against his shoulder. "I like it...makes you look like a ninja...a beautiful one at that." At times like this, his humor was at its peak.
Sorta.

 

[Asemir]

Location: Aaris III
Posts: 8
Objectives: Free the people!
Tags: [member="Aerin Kath"], [member="Joza Perl"], [member="Nate the Bounty Hunter"], [member="Jette Haltzum"], [member=Tilzi]


He hadn't told anyone besides [member="Tilzi"] of his plan. There was no sense in alerting the others, but it had been important to let the Witch know what he was doing so that she could make the proper preparations. The others, well, Asemir had decided they probably would have been more of a detriment to the mission than an asset.

That guess was proved right as soon as the infiltration team made it to the base of the wall and promptly started chatting. It was fortunate for everyone that he had left the forest almost eight hours ago and made his way through the grass, meter by painstaking meter. His advance journey had uncovered a half dozen sensors and beacons, all of which he had managed to disable without tripping any alarms. It had taken a while, the better part of the night, to cross those hundred meters, but it had been worth it.

"Can the chatter," Asemir said as he appeared from the shadows at the base of the fortress wall. The mimetic camouflage of his armor disengaged, revealing his position. It, and the stalks of grasses pasted to his body, had allowed him to complete his vanguard mission. He gave Nate a glance. "And save the flirtations for after the mission.

"I made my way in an hour or so ago. Good thing too." He dropped a pack at the team's feet. "Remote sensors and trip wires. They've been taken care of. Also, there's a set of grapple rods in there along with climbing gear. Get suited up and we'll make the ascent in a few minutes. I'll lead the way and clear the top."

Asemir took hold of one of the grapple rods and looked up at the twenty-meter face. It would be easy. To the rest, he risked a side of humor. "Hope none of you are afraid of heights."

 

[Zak Dymo]

ARCADIA-N-30
Post 9 of 30
Objective: Corellia Digital Trade Show Recover Stolen Goods. Or At Least Bust Some Heads.
Gear: X-30 "Lancer" Blast Pistol | HoloLink

The wind in her face. The feel of the road.

But for the back and joint pain, she could have closed her eyes and imagined herself thirty years younger.

Except she was thirty years older, and with no business riding the chop-job of a speeder, and her body was trying to talk some common sense into the fifty-something as she, not wanting to hear any of it, opened the throttle and raced on after the two pirates that were riding off into the sunset with the stolen goods.

Now, to be honest, Corellia Digital wasn't going to bemoan the loss of a couple of credits. That wasn't the point.

What was the point?

The point was, they'd stolen from her. And caught her completely off guard in doing so. As a veteran, she took that as no small blow to her pride.

So this wasn't about recovering the goods. This was about getting even.

The Z-95 Headhunter was starting to pull up. Safe bet they realized that they'd lost contact with one of their boys. That was going to be a problem when it made a strafing run in her general direction.

All the more reason to catch up with the boys in front.

With the throttle wide open, the woman took the speeder up a sharp hill and skipped it off the top. She made the landing, but seriously didn't think she'd be getting off the bike under her own power, and somehow managed to make it stick. She'd like to chock that up to skill, except it'd been ten years at least since she'd taken out of a speeder bike.

She was running on luck and whisky. And she was all out of whisky.

Close behind the next pirate speeder, the woman took a hand off the controls to pull the blaster from her hip. Stabilizing the arm against the handlebars, she lined up her shot.

This time her first shot zeroed right in. The back of the speeder bike erupted into flame. A second shot followed suit, sparking an explosion as the blaster bolt punctured the fuel tank. The bike tipped down, the nose digging into the dirt before completely up-ending itself. The bike and rider became a disjointed symphony of metal, before a fireball consumed the whole thing.

That was for her locked up knee, gods damned it.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

AARIS III
Post 10 of 30
Objective: Doin' my own thing
Gear: Paperweight | DC-17 Hand Blaster

The Nightsister hit the forward sail of the skiff.

Sliding down the metalic fabric, the young woman hit the deck with a look of confusion that mirrored that of the pirates standing around, dumbfounded, at the fact that it was raining women.

The small Anzat hit the deck just a moment later, a telekinetic push softening the fall, and the amber lightsaber already in hand. "See if you can get to the controls," the boy called, already moving to block the first shots from the pirates.

As the Nightsister moved behind him, the boy was deflecting and re-directing the shots aimed at him, the golden blade weaving a deadly and beautiful path through the air as the deck was cleared.

When the smoke had cleared, the boy found himself laboring for breath as his eyes darted about for the next battle, the next action. When he realized that there was no fight left aboard the ship, he reluctantly shut down the lightsaber and returned it to his belt.

Glancing up to where Ce'Nedra was steering the skiff, the boy said, "Stay there." Then, drawing his blaster pistol, crept toward where a hatch led below decks.

 

[Jorus Merrill]

Post #3
The moon of Q-27

Outside the Gypsymoth, on the surface of the airless moonlet, the big old Motors comm relay sparked and died. A feeling of moderate dread settled into Jorus' gut.

The ship's transmitters would reach a backup relay in the CEO system, And he'd be able to get the rest of the status updates he'd requested. That wasn't the problem, not unless the Resu technibeast issue snowballed in the meantime. No, the issue was the spark he'd seen out of the corner of his eye, through the canopy, just before the well-tuned relay died...

He'd felt nothing. Mechanically, he ran through an abbreviated preflight while checking screens. Nothing there, but if his ship had a cloak, so could another. The notion of a random hostile vessel stumbling on Q-27 was sort.of the nightmare scenario.

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Post #1

[member="Jorus Merrill"] [member="Faith Organa"]

"This is Shukalar Vereen, hailing from the Great White Fleet of Mandalore, calling Outback." Draco said, standing on the bridge behind the captain's chair, speaking into the open channels. The Devil's Eyes drifted smoothly through space about three light years below Resu, the small Warden-class something unassuming, but big enough to ease Draco's distaste for travelling on small ships. Especially given how his last trip in a shuttle had ended with a crash landing on Khorm, the frigate just felt safer.

Faith was onboard, and she would likely be helping with the talks, especially given how tense they were at the moment. Rich girl Merrill almost got killed on Ilum, Rich daddy Merrill was who he was out to talk to. Draco let his finger off the comlink before he spoke to the captain, "Keep us ready, we haven't spoken to them since Ilum." His voice was level, but he was a little worried about the consequences of that raid, even if it was months ago, a few worlds conquered, or liberate depending on which News Network you watched. The frigate was poorly armed, but it wasn't guns he was referring to, but hyperdrive and early warning systems.

He pressed the button again, "We come in peace, as old friends." With his broadcast over, the Warlord left the bridge to check on his princess and make sure she was safe and comfortable, especially as she was nearing her due date. This would probably be the last off world trip they made before the twins were born.

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Draco Vereen"]

Post #4

An Ackbar-class heavy cruiser, the 'Blood of Taloraan,' exited hyperspace right in front of Draco's Warden. Mon Cal in design, it boasted enough midsize hybrid emplacements to give anything from bombers to frigates a very bad day.

The comm carried two voices: a Wookiee and a protocol droid.

"Grrrrr."

"General Beyyr welcomes you to Underground territory."

"Gitovrrherrre."

"He invites your vessel to dock with the 'Blood of Taloraan' so you may speak in person."

 

[Laira Darkhold]

Post 2

[member="General Beyyr"]

"Well, a Wookiee. That's either very very bad, or very very good." Draco said with a smile. He shrugged at a few of his clansmen with Sklor the Beastshaman growling under his breath. Too much time with Grak left him somewhat feral, but he was fun to keep around. "Stay on the ship and dock us. Worst case he tries to tear off one of my arms." It was a joke, though with Faith around she wouldn't take it so lightly.

"I'll signal for you two to come aboard once the initial heat and intensity is over." Draco said to Faith with a smile, Sklor nodding and skulking away down the hall, messing with the roggwart horns on his helmet.

Draco waited for the ship to dock with the Blood of Taloraan and stood waiting on his side of the connector. So far, he had been an ally to the Outback, twice in total, during his redemption that was still arguably in progress. They would be hot headed, but they hadn't killed or attacked Vilaz yet, and the Rekali's had some influence here as far as he could remember.

Once the connection was established, Draco walked over alone.

 

[Jorus Merrill]

[member="Draco Vereen"]

Two individuals met Conquer inside the airlock: a seven-foot Wookiee in black plastoid Dark Trooper armor, and a hovering translation droid the size of a fist. The droid was a non-standard model. It tended to...extrapolate. Smooth over. Expand upon. Render in diplomatic terms. That said, it was rarely wrong.

"Urrrgh," said Beyyr through the helmet's vocoder. His gauntlet tightened on the hilt of the huge Arri'Ryyk at his belt, but he released it and extended his hand to shake.

"General Beyyr recognizes that recent events may have lent themselves to trepidation on both your parts. Nevertheless, he welcomes you as a proven friend to the Underground."