Dominion The Fire Rings | GA Dominion of Fornax and Shu-Torun

[Spirit of Diligence]

THE FIRE RINGS​

While many star systems have become displaced or altered by the Stellar Convergence, few have come through unscathed. Among those lucky few, the Fornax System, located in the Glythe Sector of the Mid Rim, has remained largely untouched. Countless millions have traversed the stars to observe one of the natural wonders of the galaxy which has attracted both tourists and daredevils alike to the Fire Rings of Fornax.

In a rare, albeit, likely brief moment of silence, the Galactic Alliance has a moment to breathe and many of its citizens are looking to the stars as they begin to settle into their new positions. Sitting at the edge of Alliance space, just a stone’s throw from the Ghost Nebula, Fornax beckons as it has for countless years, once more drawing in the denizens of the Galaxy to marvel at the natural wonder of its rings. Many are taking this as a moment to relax, recover, and prepare themselves for the trials and tribulations that lay ahead.

A DANCE OF FLAMES AND STARS​

The Fire Rings of Fornax have drawn countless individuals to observe their natural splendor. The rings themselves are a natural phenomenon, created by the solar prominences attracted to the planet due to its close proximity to its star. Fornax Station has orbited the planet for as long as anyone can remember and serves as the main tourist site for those wishing to observe the Fire Rings. Many will take this time to relax, enjoy the views of the Fire Rings from the many observation points, or even enjoy Fiery Fornax rings, a spicy dish inspired by the Fire Rings themselves.

DARING HEIGHTS​

Tourists are not the only ones who have been drawn to the Fire Rings, as a fair share of Pirates and Daredevils have found themselves attracted to the natural wonder. For many, a challenge is what calls them to the Fornax System, and etching their names in the stars is what draws them. Join those that have come before you; risk your life as you attempt to fly through the Rings just as the many daredevils and dueling pirates before you have.

THE SOUND OF INFORMATION​

Though many would take this time to relax and recover, there are still those who focus on and put their work first. For the men and women of the Strategic Intelligence Agency, theirs is a thankless and neverending job done in the shadows. While many take the moment to relax and enjoy the Fire Rings, the SIA is hard at work establishing a discreet, and hidden listening post in the depths of Fornax Station.

BYOO​

The main draw of the Fornax System is the Fire Rings, however, perhaps there is something that has drawn you to the planet below and its barren, scorched surface. Or, maybe there is something else in the Fornax System that has drawn your attention.

​

 

[Valery Noble]

Ship: Link

Valery's voice crackled over the comms, her tone playful and laced with confidence. "Alright, love. Let's see how rusty you've gotten after all those Senate meetings. I am not letting you win this time~" She shifted in the pilot's seat of her X-wing, hands already gliding over the controls as the glow of the Fire Rings painted the cockpit in vibrant gold and crimson. The sight was breathtaking, but the challenge was all she had her eyes on now.

"I hope you tightened your harness. I would hate for you to fall behind again like last time," she added with a grin, knowing full well he could hear the smirk in her voice.

A second passed. Then she pushed the throttle.

"Three seconds, babe. Then I go."

Her eyes flicked to the chrono.

"One."

"Two."

She paused just long enough to let him catch her tone.

"Three~"

And with that, her starfighter shot forward, cutting through the Fornax sky like a streak of fire.

Kahlil Noble ​

 

[Jobbi Chantin]

Pet (hair): Fuzzy (Sha'rellian toop)

The Fire Rings were moving.
That was the first problem. They weren’t just pretty glowing lines in the sky like in the brochure holo—they were alive, writhing and spinning and pulsing with heat like a dragon made of sunburn. Jobbi Chantin was doing her best not to look overwhelmed. It was not going well.

She had her face pressed to the transparisteel viewport of the Fornax Station observation deck, leaving a wide, damp circle of fog on the glass.
Her tail was twitching. Her robe was bunched up awkwardly where she’d tried to make it look “swept back by wind.” Her travel sash still had a cafeteria receipt stuck to it.

"Mi titka heee doth bolla wriggly?"

Someone stared at her. Probably because she'd asked the question out loud to herself. Again.

Behind her, Fuzzy (her Sha’rellian toop and biological wig, currently hyped up on fried root oil and free samples) was clambering across a her the top of her head spinning in circles.

She wheeled her head toward the nearest other Padawan (or maybe just someone wearing robes—hard to tell with the glare off the glass).
"Group photo? Before anything catches on fire?

She flashed what she hoped was a casual, friendly grin. It came out wide, uncertain, and a little too slimy.

Now Boarding: Awkward Hutt Padawan, seeking cool friends and crunchy snacks.

[OPEN]​

 

[Nos Voros]

Objective: The Sound of Information
Outfit: Senate Commando Armor [X]
Full Kit Deployment:

Spoiler: Full Kit

* Legion Combat Engineer Multi-Tool

4 X Combat/Utility Knife-Model 01

2 X Vibroblade-Model 01

Cortosis Vibroblade

Legion Combat Pistol Mark I with Whisper-class Suppressor Series

Legion Crew Personal Protection Weapon Mark I

Combat Scattergun-Model 01

3 X Modular Hand Grenade-Model 01

3 X Anti-Armor Grenade-Model 01

GAHA-32 Lionheart Commando Armor

Combat Blaster Rifle-Model 01 with Tactical Accessories Series and Underbarrel Grenade Launcher-Model 01 (20 X Launchable Grenade Series)

4x blaster cartridges

2x stun grenades

Ascension Pistol

Fusion Lantern

Datapad

Garrote

3x stimpacks

3x bland survival bars

128oz Canteen of water.

Spoiler: Rubrus Squad

Squad Leader: Captain Nos Voros (Zeltron male)
Fire Team Alpha — GAHA-32 Lionheart Commando Armor
Team Leader: Lieutenant Karis Vonn (Human female, Corellian)

• AT-FL9 Flechette Launcher
• A sharp tactician with experience in counter-assassination operations.

Medic: Sergeant Lorne Vesik (Mirialan male)

• Former Judicial Forces combat medic,
• GAGL 56 Snarl Grenade Launcher
• specializing in battlefield triage and trauma care.

Machine Gunner: Corporal Bex Jarn (Besalisk male)

• Heavy weapons expert.
• AT-RB07 Heavy Repeating Blaster
• Strong but surprisingly fast for his size, excels at defensive holds and breaching operations.

Rifleman: Private Tash Renn (Human male, Chandrilan)

• A precise and disciplined soldier.
• BHSR-1 Service Rifle
• Prefers coordinated maneuvers and works best in tight formations.

---

Fire Team Bravo — GAHA-32 Lionheart Commando Armor
Team Leader 2: Sergeant Jil Torvan (Togruta female)

• Former planetary security officer with expertise in urban combat.
• GARBR-5 Beak repeating blaster
• Skilled in squad coordination.

Marksman: Corporal Rann Kyber (Nautolan male)

• Expert sharpshooter.
• GABB-15 Talon II Blaster Carbine
• Specializes in eliminating priority targets at long range.

Heavy Weapons: Private Drax Molgar (Zabrak male)

• Specializes in explosives and heavy ordinance.
• ML-04E-GA Rocket Launcher
• Often deployed against armored threats or for breaching enemy positions.

Rifleman: Private Cass Deren (Duros male)

• Agile and quick-thinking.
• BHSR-1 Service Rifle
• Often acts as the squad's point man, scouting ahead for danger.

Fornax Station was a tourist trap with teeth.

The wide, amber-lit concourses smelled like fried spicefruit and recycled air, but beneath the surface—below the vendors and glossy transparisteel domes that framed the Fire Rings—work crews and black-suited spooks toiled behind security checkpoints. Rubrus Squad moved in staggered formation around a secure bulkhead labeled for maintenance, but the locks were new. So were the sensors. No one was here for repairs.

Nos stood beside a darkened control panel, eyes fixed on the faint flicker of a retinal scanner still wet with fresh installation foam. His helmet remained clipped to his belt. He didn’t need the HUD to know they were being watched.

Beautiful place. Feels like a lie.

"Form perimeter. No chatter. Torvan, cover the causeway. Vonn, get me uplink access."

<<Copy, Captain. Setting the spike now.>>

A discreet SIA tech gave Nos a nod from behind tinted lenses and returned to wiring a panel behind faux vending machines. Listening posts didn’t build themselves, and whoever ran this one was doing it dirty—no clear permits, no manifest, and way too many forged identities drifting in through the observation decks.

The Fire Rings flared above through the dome. Tourists cheered. A pilot tried to thread the plasma arcs in a burst of suicidal bravado. Nos didn’t flinch.

He watched the reflection of it all in the glass.

Spies need shadows. We make them.

@Open​

 

[Velyra Vonn]

Senator Velyra Vonn of Zeltros
​

Fornax Station smelled like strained indulgence. Even behind tinted glass and soft perfume, Velyra could taste it on the recycled air; the bite of ambition masked in mirth, the faint burn of wealth trying too hard to appear effortless.

She stood near one of the upper observation decks, framed by transparent durasteel, the Fire Rings in full, molten bloom beyond her silhouette. The galaxy spun on, uncaring. But here, in this fleeting hush between crises, beauty dared to exist for its own sake.

How strange... to feel like a guest in a moment of peace.

Her gown shimmered like molten wine, off-shoulder, floor-length, tailored to drape rather than cling. One gloved hand cradled a fluted glass of Fornax cider; the other rested lightly on the curve of a velvet railing, steady despite the way attention always seemed to orbit her.

Soft laughter rippled from the levels below. Diplomats, thrill-seekers, and fortune-kissed dreamers wandered through the halls of the station like petals adrift in solar wind.

"The trick, of course," she murmured to the aide beside her, voice low and laced with velvet amusement, "is knowing which fires are safe to dance in… and which fuel gets clingy and sticks long enough to burn."

A polite round of chuckling followed, the halfhearted smiles and feined laughter that trailed after sterile humor, an unpleasant necessity of her position.
A passing pirate-turned-philanthropist raised a glass her way. She returned the gesture with a faint incline of her head; just enough to suggest familiarity, and just little enough to deny it if necessary. She had a fling with the man about two dozen years ago, if she remembered correctly.

Zeltros had taught her how to navigate pleasure with purpose. The Senate had sharpened that instinct into a blade.

@OPEN​

 

[Drystan Creed]

FORNAX STATION

Drystan stood across from the Hutt padawan, doing his best not to be included in the group photo. Something about how it should be padawans only, he mumbled.

His hands were otherwise occupied—in his left, a freshly lit cigarette, and in the other, a partially filled glass of single malt Coruscanti whiskey. This would be the last time he forgot to pack for a field trip. The space station had charged an arm and a leg for just these two items. It made sense, though, given the remoteness of the area and the fact that this was the only sign of civilization anywhere near the planet.

He kept a close eye on Jobbi and an open ear on the other padawans visiting the station. This had been a volunteer assignment on his part—deciding to contribute more to the Order beyond training and life-threatening missions. A nice change of pace, though it was clear the Shadow was still adjusting.

From the looks of it, Jobbi was oblivious to his connection to her father. Perhaps Whotto had kept their underground death match a secret. Drystan didn't dwell on it—family business, and he wasn't part of that family.

Still, being in the vicinity of Whotto's daughter felt... a little awkward.

Hopefully, it wouldn't slip out that he had been the one to rupture Whotto's spleen—and not in the way Jobbi's mother figure usually did it.

Jobbi Chantin || @OPEN

 

[Jobbi Chantin]

Pet (hair): Fuzzy (Sha'rellian toop)

Fuzzy had just stopped spinning with alarming speed when Jobbi noticed the Jedi standing a few meters off.

Cool cloak? Check. Brooding posture? Check. Expensive drink and mysterious puff of smoke curling from his mouth?

So. Cool.

Jobbi straightened her sash, adjusted her datapad lanyard (which got caught in one of her neck folds), and definitely pretended not to stare.

She turned slightly to address him, trying to sound calm and casual.
Which is to say: she came off like a Hutt-sized kettle about to explode.

"Uhh—Hi. You're not... in the photo, are you? That's fine. It’s mostly... for like, the... memory, thing. Group bonding! Heh. But if you wanted to be, you could. But you probably don't, um... Unless?"


She blinked. Was that whiskey? Were Jedi allowed to have whiskey? Was this one of those advanced-knighthood Jedi who had permission to be cool and tragic?

"I’m Jobbi. Padawan. Hi. Um. Your... cigarette smells like my Dad's garage, but in a good way?"

Nailed it. Crushed it. Definitely not saying weird things.

She was about to nervously retreat when Fuzzy resumed spinning, lost grip, skidded off her head between them, flipped upside-down, and released an ear-splitting HONK for no reason at all.

"...He does that," Jobbi said softly, as if it were the sort of burden Jedi carried.

"Do you like... space rings?" she added a moment later, like she was asking someone if they liked sunsets or breathing.

Drystan Creed || @OPEN​

 

[Emery Lloren]

Enjoy the view!

"Play is the beginning of knowledge."
________

Equipment — Coded datapad, an existential fiction holo-book, his Lightsaber.

Clothing — Casual clothing underneath white Jedi robes.

Theme — Apocalypse
________​

Emery was seated on one of the low benches near the viewport, a worn book balanced in his lap. The page displayed an old Alderaanian fiction text, something about serenity and flawed justice systems. He had been rereading the same paragraph for the last five minutes, though, distracted by the flickering light of the Fire Rings beyond the glass.

The first time he saw them move, his breath had caught. They pulsed with a kind of impossible energy, full of heat and rhythm. It was hard not to stare.

Then the snort. The voice. Something about wriggling.

He looked up, blinked once, and took in the scene at the window. A fellow Padawan, probably. Her robe was twisted like she had tried too hard to look casual. Her tail flicked like a nervous metronome. And there was some small creature perched on her head, turning lazy circles like it was warming up to launch into orbit.

Emery closed his book and stood.

He approached slowly, letting his voice carry just enough to be heard over the low hum of the station.

“A group photo sounds good.” His tone was friendly, calm. “Before the Fire Rings hypnotize half the observation deck.”

He glanced out the viewport again, watching the glow shift across the glass.

“They’re not like the holos.” A pause. “They move like they’re thinking. Like they’ve got something to say, if you knew how to listen.”

Emery turned back to her, offering a faint smile.

“You want me to take it, or… do we trust your little friend to handle the camera?”

He gestured toward the energetic creature doing laps on her head, clearly uncertain if it was a pet, a companion, or just something she picked up in a spice shop.

“Either way, I think it’s a good moment to remember. Before whatever comes next.”

There was no rush in his voice. No awkwardness either. Just a quiet steadiness, like he belonged here even if he wasn’t sure why yet.​

Jobbi Chantin

​

 

[Kahlil Noble]

"Rusty?"

Kahlil let out a bemused chuckle as he glanced over towards Valery, standing by his own X-Wing. He ended up just shaking his head as he got up into his own controls, settling down as he flicked about the switches he needed. His gaze only briefly drifted to the flaming rings before he settled back, comfortable now as he hummed.

"Mm. No rust here."

The grin returned as he glanced to where she was now sitting. She'd find out soon enough.

Valery paused, and his grin only widened as he spoke up at the same time she did. He was already well aware what she was going to do, so why not taunt her a bit with it?

"Three~"

He was off, a full on blitz right from the hangar right beside Valery. She wasn't just going to win that easily.

Valery Noble

 

[Mykel Dawson]

Flightsuit (Helmet Off)

Location: KSV Nightshade, Orbit over Fornax
Objective: Daring Heights
With: Corazona von Ascania

Mykel wasn't sure he would be able to top punching through a violent continent spanning hurricane (with the best of scientific intentions of course), but somehow he had found a way to up the ante at Fornax. Raging supercells up-traded for globe spanning rings of sunfire.

However, his trusty Amphrite wouldn't be his testbed for the Arc Project today. Instead, he'd be piloting a new prototype direct from KSA, incorporating the Amphrite's metadata from the last round of testing as well as the Jedi Knight's personal inputs. We're so close now.

Soon, the Alliance would have some new tools that could help turn the tide against the Sith.

While he preferred the streamlined elegance of his custom Jedi Starfighter, there was something appealing about the Kiribian fighter, possessing a distinctive avian appearance characteristic of Kiribian fighter designs. As he circled around the fighter in the hanger bay performing maintenance checks, he was struck with the impression of a barely restrained raptor ready to break free of its metal shell. Indeed, the prototype's code name of Harute was fitting.

He could also appreciate the bevy of features that the newer fighter came with, like a dedicated AI processor core. The AI was only a fraction of the size of his astromech Puck, little bigger than a walnut, yet rivaled the power of Super AI running the Mors Mon.

While he found the AI to be just a tad overkill for this specific exercise, it did afford one nice benefit: a spare seat!

"Ready to take another ride with Dawson Taxi Services?" He joked as he came around to the starboard side where Corazona stood.

He had half-jokingly invited her for a ride-along while they had both been reading the latest tasking updates on the mission board, so he was a little surprised when she accepted. Still, he wouldn't shake his head at some company.

Talking to machines was always nice, but people were nicer.

 

[Drystan Creed]

FORNAX STATION

For the first half of Jobbi's musings, Drystan's mind was elsewhere. Fortunately, the sunglasses obscuring his eyes helped keep that fact to himself.

As he made his rounds through the station, he couldn't help but notice the vending machines—one for nearly every category imaginable. Food, drinks, even basic hygiene supplies—all neatly placed behind glass with a self-service payment system. Vending machines weren't foreign to the Shadow, but the pricing was egregiously inflated compared to any standard shop.

How interesting.

His attention returned to the Hutt padawan just in time for her question, giving a casual nod in response.

"I suppose they're tolerable," he said half-heartedly, having no real opinion about space rings. Then, with a rising nod, he gestured toward Emery Lloren —another padawan, by the look of it.

"I think he wants to take a picture with you and the others in your class," he mumbled, taking another sip of his glass and a drag from his cigarette.

Jobbi Chantin Emery Lloren | @open