Private The Great Corrox Conference of 904 A.B.Y

[Ronhar Tane]

EMERGENCY MEETING REQUESTED
CORROX CENTRAL, MAHPOREEM
CONCORD SPIRE

The last couple of weeks have been something of a blur for Mahporeem and the Mahporeem Imperial Remnant.

Already reeling from an influx of refugees thanks to the Galactic Empire and the Sith Covenant, the sudden collapse of the Diarchy and the Imperial Confederation has sent Mahporeem past its breaking point, as millions fleeing the ensuring chaos seek the relative safety and stability that the Imperial Remnant has to offer. Though Mahporeem has no objection to an increased labor pool, the sheer number of those wishing to settle on the planet has created a crisis never seen in the history of the planet, not even when Mahporeem rebelled against the original Galactic Empire or fought the seemingly endless forces of the Sith Order. Mahporeem stands on the precipice of complete and total collapse, yet it also stands to gain much should it be able to whether the storm that it currently finds itself going through.

To survive the upcoming weeks and months, the Imperial Remnant has invited a number of different business leaders and CEOs to Mahporeem in order to brainstorm different ways to feed the planet's ever expanding population. Historically, Mahporeem had always struggled with adequate food production, which was one of the main reasons that the planet had ended its self isolation in the first place. Mahporeem had subsequently spent months building up numerous supply chains in order to obtain the food that is so desperately needed. Yet, the constant galactic invasions by enemy factions, coupled with the loss of the Imperial Remnant's largest trading partner, had sent the planet's food stores back into pre-galactic contact days.

And so, the Mahporeem Imperial Remnant has decided to tackle its newfound challenges head on, as it continues to navigate its way throughout the galaxy and forge its own path, with or without the Imperial Confederation.

The Great Corrox Conference of 904 A.B.Y has officially begun!

Ronhar felt like he was running into people around literally every corner of this damned building, no matter where he went or far he had traveled!

First, it had been the refugees. Then, the remnant forces of the collapsed Imperial Confederation. Now, even the Diarchy was making it way to Mahporeem, and Ronhar wouldn't be surprised if he ran into Laphisto himself at this point. How could things have gotten so bad so quickly?

Poor leadership, thats how. Between Selrik Lorcas, the Warden Primus, and even Marlon Sularen 's rash actions, confidence in the Imperial Confederation had plummeted to an all time low, and being beset by enemies on all sides, its member planets had rebelled as Imperial forces relocated to the most important planets possible...which apparently meant Mahporeem, as it turned out. Ronhar had been shocked to hear that the Imperials had abandoned New Alderaan in favor of his home planet, which just went to show how powerful Mahporeem had become. In barely two years, Mahporeem had transformed from an unknown backwater to a household name, having participated in battles and campaigns all across the galaxy, spreading its name far and wide as much of the galaxy got to know its unusual brand of Imperialism.

That was all well and good, but it wouldn't save Mahporeem from starving to death.

Nearly every day, millions upon millions of beings were arriving on the planet, whether they be refugees, Imperials or Diarchians, and the Imperial Remnant was seriously struggling to process all of them. Even before the Galactic Core had come under siege, life on Mahporeem was still relatively difficult, and that was with all the aid and assistance that the now defunct mperial Confederation was offering them. Without them, things had become disastrous. Protests and riots had erupted almost immediately among the general populace, with natives and outsiders clashing in the streets on a daily basis. The increased Imperial presence on the planet had helped to keep things stable, but pretty much everyone knew that the situation Mahporeem was untenable.

Something clearly had to be done.

Hopefully, the leaders that the Imperial Remnant had invited to the planet today would have the solutions that were so desperately needed to fix the current situation, or at the very least stabilize it for the time being. After what felt like an eternity to Ronhar, he finally found the conference room where the meeting was going to take place. Security was especially tight at this junction, which multiple Chrome Guardians arrayed around the room in a circular formation, looking for any signs of trouble. They nodded to Ronhar as he took his seat by the massive table that was dominating the otherwise empty room, a centrally placed holoprojector displaying the sigil of the Imperial Remnant. Between the hordes of soldiers roaming the halls in and around the building and the increased security presence on the planet, it would take the delegates quite a while to get into the Concord Spire and the meeting room that he was currently hanging out in.

So be it. He would wait as long as it took for them to arrive to the building. He had to. The future of Mahporeem was riding on this meeting!

As he continued to wait, a voice began speaking over the building's intercomms:

[REMINDER: ALL PERSONS VISITING CONCORD SPIRE ARE SUBJECT TO RANDOM SEARCHES AT ANY POINT IN THEIR VISIT. POSSESSION OF BLASTERS, FIREARMS, AND VIBROWEAPONS ARE STRICTLY PROHIBITED TO UNAUTHORIZED PERSONS. HAVE A NICE REST OF YOUR DAY]

Ronhar couldn't help but sigh to himself. Well that just sent a great message that Mahporeem was business friendly: restrictions and random searches always went over well with those kind of folks.

Whatever. They would just have to accept it as the cost of doing business!

TAGS:
Danger Arceneau
Junko Ike
Ivalyn Yvarro
Judah Dashiell
Braze
Alex Stern
Prystill Oasay
Those with private invitations

​

 

[Junko Ike]

There had been questions, with so many Imperial groups and empire for a brief time it had been complicated but The Commonwealth haad continued to reinforce itself. Miyoungs heightened measures in the wake of the attack had been better then most expected and they produced more and more thanks to their terraforming of worlds behind the breakwater. So Junko had been willing to come if only to help the ones who needed it. Atrisia wanted isolation and to be left alone so no grudges with that may be their neighbors one day. She moved as her Kōgō Heika Mk. IV came out. The profile distinct as it didn't drop out of hyperspace. The Aing-Tii hyperdrive allowed them to fold space as needed when she was standing on the bridge.

The anti-stealth systems of the ship were scanning as it came into a position and gave its information as needed. To announce Junko with a look from the captain on the bridge with a bow of his head. The atrisians white and gold uniforms not betraying the subtle blue veins of their standard zenkai implant package. A small roar from Xīfāng at herr side as the tiger wore its large collar and stood tall over her. She was moving towards the shuttle to take them down as all of it was announced and her guide outside of the Commonwealths space Supisy Blen was always welcome with her and her entourage. Two handmaidens Barca Djarin and Thuria Thoris with her.

Junkos arrival at the summit was not nearly as full of fanfare as the shuttle came down with all clearances. She walked flanked by her handmaidens as Xifang would draw eyes and that was intentional.. he was massive compared to many others and highly protective of Junko who draped in an ensemble that reflects the refined ceremonial language of Atrisia's cultural revival, a presentation carefully designed to project both heritage and diplomatic authority. The foundation of her attire is a floor-length inner robe of luminous ivory silk, woven with delicate golden threadwork that forms intricate interlocking floral sigils drawn from Atrisian court tradition.

The motifs repeat with precise symmetry across the garment. With a richly layered outer robe in deep imperial crimson, its wide, structured sleeves and sweeping hem common for the noble houses. Gold zari-style embroidery flows across the fabric in branching lotus patterns that frame the torso and cascade along the robe's edges, emphasizing elegance without revealing excess form. A structured sash secures the waist, constructed from heavy brocade in burnished gold with subtle jade accents woven through its patterning. The sash ties in a carefully engineered knot positioned high along the back, lending architectural balance to her petite stature and reinforcing the upright composure she maintains while moving through the path.

The collar rises in the traditional high style, framing her face and lending a quiet dignity to her presence as she enters the hall. Xifang looking at a guard who was searching Junko but she had no need of weapons, herr handmaidens there for protection but showing minimal while turning the biometrically locked weapons over. Xifang roaring when someone came close to him but Junko didn't speak. She was allowed to continue as her facial covering closed encircling her head and shoulders is the most distinctive element of the ensemble, a gossamer veil of pale gold chiffon that wraps elegantly around her form in layered folds.

Rather than hanging freely, the veil is arranged in deliberate spirals that cross before her face and sweep back across her shoulders, forming a structured shroud that obscures her features while leaving her gaze faintly visible through translucent fabric. Fine filigree embroidery traces the veil's edges in delicate metallic thread, forming star-like patterns that repeat across its length and bind the design visually to the gold embroidery of her robes. Tiny seed pearls are stitched along the borders in measured intervals, lending quiet ornamentation to the layered cloth as it drapes around her head and down the length of her back.

At the crown rests an ornate ceremonial headpiece crafted in the courts style, its delicate chains and jade-set ornament positioned precisely along the center of her hairline. The piece anchors the veil's layered arrangement while drawing the eye upward toward the symmetry of her coiffure. Her hair is styled in a refined updo of carefully arranged dark coils, forming a sculpted silhouette that supports the headpiece and veil while maintaining the strict composure expected of a Commonwealth diplomatic envoy. Workerrs on the shuttle bringing some crates of food and drink as needed to show good faith before she looked from under the veil and her hands grasped the small Kaikichi sphere they had left to her.

Her jewelry reinforces the political message conveyed through the ensemble, presenting wealth and cultural refinement without descending into excess. Around her neck rests a layered ceremonial necklace of finely worked gold, each tier formed from interlinked chains that descend in graduated arcs across the upper bodice of her robe. At the center hangs a prominent jade cabochon framed by a halo of deep red gemstones and brilliant white stones cut in precise facets, forming a pendant that mirrors the heraldic color triad of their diplomatic corp. Smaller floral ornaments extend from the central piece along delicate chains, their symmetrical placement echoing the motifs embroidered across her garments. Matching chandelier earrings hang just beneath the veil's translucent folds, their gold filigree frames supporting small jade droplets that align with the central pendant.

Her wrists are adorned with a sequence of stacked bangles in graduated widths, alternating between polished gold and enameled cuffs that display miniature Commonwealth heraldry. Beneath the sweeping hem of her robe, ornate anklets circle her ankles, completing the ensemble with subtle ceremonial detail. Additional jade crystals are set within the structure of her hairstyle near the temples, positioned so that the translucent veil allows their color to remain visible while preserving the controlled mystery created by the layered fabric. The faint glow of herr Solari Shiroi as the lightside of the jedi master pulsed and extended outwards to be calming.

The complete effect of Junko arrival is one of disciplined elegance, where every element of her presentation functions as a carefully considered diplomatic statement. The coloring of ivory, crimson, gold, and jade reflects the Atrisian Commonwealths unity among its worlds within their breakwater. Junko moved to take her place among the table and delegates with a bow. THe handmaidens hanging far back at the edge so that she would be alone... or have the massive form of a tiger behind her when she finally spoke looking from under the veil. "The Atrisian Commonwealth apologizes that ourr diplomatic envoy was unable to arrive. Prince Shoma is overseeing much but I am his sister Prrincess Junko."

 

[Alex Stern]

At the edge of the system a massive Magellan-class bulk freighter exited faster than light travel, the background cronau radiation of it dropping into realspace lighting up sensors across the system. It wasn't a subtle ship, nor was it meant to be. Five kilometers long, the freighter was meant to move the wealth of worlds quickly and safely inside its arrays of massive interchangeable cargo pods. It waited a polite moment for its own sensors to clear before broadcasting its identity and requesting clearances before making its way into orbit with a surprising turn of speed.

Once in a holding pattern, it dispatched a single civilian transport to carry Outer Rim Resources' representative to the Concord Spire where Alex was more than happy to go through the requested security screening. He only carried a data pad and accompanied only by a logistics droid. Getting from there to the meeting room was simplicity in itself, as he requested one of the guards to escort him there. They probably were going to anyway, but this way let them as a polite courtesy rather than an insisted security measure. Being used to crowded stations or cramped ships and factories, he didn't mind the busy crowds either, slipping through them or waiting his turn like the natural spacer he was.

Arriving just behind the Commonwealth's delegation, he gave the room a polite nod as he waited his turn at the formalities. Compared to the regal dignitary and her escort in their finery, Alex Stern may have looked out of place, but he didn't seem bothered in his worn nerf-hide jacket and workman's shirt tucked into comfortable trousers. "Alex Stern, Director for Outer Rim Resources," his voice was warm and steady as he offered his hand to Ronhar. "Have we got any caf? Hyperspace always leaves me feeling a little lagged."

Ronhar Tane Junko Ike

 

[Judah Dashiell]

"Most action I've had in the last five years."

Judah was slipping his dark suit jacket back on. With all of his luck he was one of the chosen few who were at the end of a random security stop. Unlike some of the other flashy CEOs invited to this conference, he didn't bring one of his assistants or personal security. There was a contingent of Noghiri guards at his disposal but they were always at a distance, and in such a station and conference knew threats were minimal.

Except handsy security guards.

Taking his datapad back and slipping it in his breastpocket, oceanic gaze searched along the walls for direction now that he had been 'randomly' stopped and frisked. Concord Spire meeting spaces flashed on the screen with an arrow and he began his journey. It was a brisk but brief walk, allowing him to observe portions of the station. Having restored and salvaged numerous in his lifetime, Judah always liked to get an up close and personal view of the condition of such a station. Said a lot about who owned it.

Finding the conference location, he entered quietly. Gaze fell on those in attendance, giving a small nod of acknowledgement. Someone was already speaking to their host and he didn't dare interrupt. There would be time for handshakes later.

Finding the placard with his name, the old salvager settled into his spot at the table.

Ronhar Tane | Junko Ike | Alex Stern​

 

[Prystill Oasay]

Objective: Start work for the survival and advancement of Mahporeem
Location: Concord Spire, Corrox, Mahporeem
Outfit: Distracting Business Suit
Tags: Ronhar Tane | Junko Ike | Alex Stern | Judah Dashiell

The transport shuddered slightly as it broke through the last layer of atmosphere, its descent far less graceful than the worlds Prystill had once frequented.

Below, Corrox spread outward in a patchwork of industry and survival—durasteel scaffolds, retrofitted towers, and the steady glow of refineries pushing back against the dim horizon. It wasn’t a city that pretended to be anything. It simply was. Functional. Resilient. Unapologetically worn.

Prystill Oasay stood near the viewport, hands loosely clasped behind her back, her reflection faint against the scarred transparisteel. The collapse of the Imperial Confederation had not only redrawn borders—it had stripped away illusion. Titles meant less now. Power had to be proven again.

For many, that meant fading into obscurity.

For her, it meant stepping forward.

Mahporeem had been an unlikely choice. A world built on reclamation and grit, where value was measured in what could be salvaged and reforged. It lacked refinement—but it did not lack potential. And in its harsh honesty, Prystill had found something she hadn’t realized she’d been missing.

A future that wasn’t inherited—but built.

And, of course… him.

Ronhar Tane.

The thought flickered across her mind, softening the sharp edges of her composure for the briefest moment. Relocating to his homeworld had not been a concession—it had been a deliberate step. One that grounded her in something real, something worth investing in beyond politics alone.

The transport settled with a low groan. The ramp lowered. Prystill descended into the hum of Corrox—into the scent of heated metal and recycled air, into the rhythm of a city that never stopped working because it couldn’t afford to. Delegates moved alongside laborers, officials brushing shoulders with mechanics and traders. There was no illusion of separation here.

Only purpose.

She adjusted her outfit with practiced precision, her gaze sweeping the conference grounds—not for grandeur, but for leverage. This was not a world that impressed through spectacle. It impressed through endurance. And that made gatherings like this all the more important.

Mahporeem was no longer content to exist on the fringes. It was reaching outward—asserting itself, cautiously but deliberately, into galactic affairs. That meant diplomacy. Negotiation. Presence.

It meant people like her.

Prystill paused at the entrance to the conference hall, the low murmur of voices spilling outward. No gilded doors. No pristine marble. Just reinforced plating and a threshold that had seen better days.

A fitting place to begin again. A place for her to apply all the traits she had picked up over her short, yet eventful lifetime. She was putting it all together into something new. Just like the other products of Mahporeem.

“I suppose this is where I prove my worth,” she murmured quietly.

Then she stepped inside. She noted the representatives from off planet. Some had appeared in the notes of Nolle Tron . Others were brand new. Prystill would wager none of them had heard her name. That was fine with her. The Theelin did her best to keep her saunter to a minimum as she moved across the conference to take a seat among the Mahporeem contingent.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with: Ronhar Tane Junko Ike Judah Dashiell Alex Stern Prystill Oasay
| Dress x | x | x | x | x | x | X | X |

​

The Queen of Trade paused just long enough at the threshold for the doors to finish their slow glide apart before she ambled forward. The dark green spider silk clung to her full figure, the fabric catching the light with a quiet sheen that set off the deep auburn of her hair. The dress moved with her as she walked in that unhurried, full-hipped amble of someone who had spent half her life crossing rooms where fortunes changed with a handshake.

A few heads turned, prompting a warm, cordial smile from Danger and a small dip of her chin. She exchanged pleasantries and a few light words. Small currents of connection laid like hyperlanes between strangers and old acquaintances alike. ANd that was because a meeting like this was never just about the contracts.

It was about people. Connections. Networking. Building mutually beneficial opportunities.

Danger's emerald fire eyes swept the room as she moved toward her assigned table, the tip of a slender cigarillo rolling between two fingers though she had yet to light it.

One brow lifted.

"Well now," she murmured softly to herself, catching sight of a peppered, slicked-back mop of hair at a table over. Judah was present.

Apparently being blamed for the death of a Senator hadn't slowed that man down one bit. Either he was innocent, stubborn, or spectacularly confident. Possibly all three.

Her attention drifted farther across the hall and caught sight of a Commonwealth delegate. And there, in full regalia, was Sasori’s representative. FOlks she'd had dealt with business with favorable terms as much as new faces.

Interesting company for a planet on the edge of collapse.

Danger settled into her seat with the quiet ease of someone who owned far more chairs than she ever needed to sit in. One leg crossed over the other as she leaned back slightly, surveying the room like a merchant studying a storm rolling across open desert.

Mahporeem's crisis was ugly. They had to deal with refugees, broken supply chains, and a food shortage big enough to starve a world... but storms had a funny habit of leaving opportunity in their wake.

The tip of her cigarillo tapped once against the table as her eyes glinted with quiet calculation.

Arceneau Trade specialized in reconstruction. Detoxification. Agricultural rehabilitation. The sort of work that turned wounded worlds back into breathing ones.

She had come prepared to pitch solutions.

But first...Danger intended to listen. Because before you sold a lifeline, you needed to know exactly how deep the water ran.

 

[Supisy Blen]

Objective: Learn negotiation by watching Junko
Location: Concord Spire, Corrox, Mahporeem
Outfit:Shikibu Dress
Tags: Junko Ike | Ronhar Tane | Alex Stern | Judah Dashiell | Danger Arceneau

Though she did throw a bit of a fuss, Supisy didn’t really persist when she was told that the normal crew of Junko’s frigate were going to handle the journey from Atrisia to Mahporeem. To be back on a mission with the Princess was exciting enough that the Twi’lek pilot could wait until the shuttle ride through the atmosphere of their destination before she put her hands on ship controls once again.

Besides, that gave Supisy time to pet Xifang, joke and flirt with Barca and talk with Thuria as well as get caught up with Junko herself. Spending time with Striker squad after the attack on Atrisia had been repelled was a necessary distraction for Supisy. For the most part her estate had made it through the ordeal, but the repairs and upgrades that were required would have sent the Twi’lek into a tizzy. Even spending time with Junko in the palace would not have kept Supisy’s mind off her home. Flying was the ultimate distraction.

Supisy did finally get to fly for the last small leg of the trip. It was wholly uneventful and hardly a distraction. Though Supisy did get a good view of Mahporeem during the approach. She knew not to judge a book by its cover, but the Twi’lek pilot would say that going from Atrisia even after the horrible battle to Mahporeem was certainly a different aesthetic. The shuttle landed without issue and Supisy took up the rear of the Commonwealth’s retinue. Upon entry to the Spire, Supisy allowed a basic search without any complaint. The guard then persisted and Supisy narrowed her eyes. ”What am I hiding in this dress?” she asked teasingly. It was good to be in her Shikibu Dress again. A gift from the Princess on the first day they had met. Supisy had spent credits to get more luxurious clothes, but it always felt nice to remember that time. The guard seemed to be more convinced by Xifang’s huff than Supisy’s argument and let her go on her way.

Following Junko into the meeting area, Supisy’s eyes moved around the gathering as if she was in the cockpit of her X-Wing surveying the battlefield. She didn’t truly expect to find trouble here. It was more curiosity of who was present being viewed through the recent experience of being a fighter pilot. Supisy followed to the Commonwealth’s spot and continued to watch as others arrived.

Alex Stern and Judah Dashiell were not the type that normally got Supisy’s attention. But the intention of this mission was to learn, not to relax and have a partying good time. Supisy knew that these men of industry were not to be dismissed because they lacked the flash that usually caught Supisy’s eyes. She nodded to both if they noticed her looking. Then Prystill Oasay entered. Supisy smirked and leaned over to Barca, ”Didn’t know a skirt that short was acceptable for this conference,” Supisy remarked in a whisper.

The next to catch Supisy’s attention was Danger Arceneau. Supisy wasn’t sure how to judge her. The Theelin’s flash made it hard for anyone else to stick out, but that may have just been a distraction method. Danger appeared content to be in the shadows for now. Supisy would wait to see what was coming next before actually approaching anyone. After all she was here to follow the Princess, not take the lead.

 

[Ivalyn Yvarro]

A holoprojector was placed where Ivalyn's name placard had been placed. The projector flickered, light gathered in clean lines, resolving upward into form.

The sigil of the Imperial Commonwealth of Dosuun appeared first.

Afterwards, Ivalyn Yvarro, rendered in full, composed detail, her posture upright, hands resting loosely behind her back. She observed who was in attendance, Mr. Dashiell of whom she had had several favorable dealings with. The Trade Queen herself, Danger Arceanu another corporate partner of the Imperial Commonwealth. There were only a few she had heard of, read about somewhere.

The Grand Vizier flicked her gaze between the Trade Queen and Mr. Dashiell. Her attention would fall on the host of the conference, as she settled in, "my apologies for not being able to present in person. I trust, holo shall suffice. Good to see Mr. Dashiell and Ms. Arceneau in the same room, a pleasure, I'm sure."

Alex Stern | Ronhar Tane | Danger Arceneau | Judah Dashiell | Junko Ike | Prystill Oasay | Supisy Blen ​

 

[Judah Dashiell]

A pleasure? Certainly not for Danger, that much he knew for certain.

Given he and Miss Arceneau used to be quite close and get together on a regular basis until it stopped, Judah was unsurprised some in their circles would noticed something had gone on. A blind man could easily see something had transpired and clearly gone south.

Which meant Miss Yvarro was poking the bear. Nothing afoul on his end. He had tried to reconcile to no avail and at this point had just given up. Trying was just like talking to a wall. Made for some interesting times. Talk was going around of Makai moving to the Farm,or at least near it, a place he hadn't been in years. Now questions swirled if he was even able to come over and visit - Makai and the family, certainly not Danger.

He hadn't touched that subject yet. Better to wait and see what he was going to be working with in the end.

"Miss Yvarro, a surprise and a pleasure to see you here, even in holographic form." A small pause. All of them seemed to be waiting around, might as well get in some small talk. "The honeymoon was enjoyable I assume?"

Ivalyn Yvarro | Danger Arceneau | Ronhar Tane | Junko Ike | Supisy Blen | Prystill Oasay | Alex Stern ​

 

[Ronhar Tane]

EMERGENCY MEETING REQUESTED
CORROX CENTRAL, MAHPOREEM
CONCORD SPIRE

As the delegates and business leaders began shuffling into the conference room one by one, the steady pitter-patter of rain, or perhaps more accurately, acid rain, could be heard outside as a sudden thunderstorm began encroaching over Corrox and the Concord Spire. Luckily, most of the city had been coated in a thin layer of Anti-Corr 113, but it clearly wasn't a good sign that Mahporeem was dealing with this type of weather in the first place. If anything, it simply underscored the massive problems that the planet was dealing with and highlighted the challenges facing those who would address those problems.

Ronhar made sure to take notice of everyone who entered the room, whether or not they would be active participants or merely spectators to the meeting to come. First to arrive was Junko Ike from the planet Atrisia, the splendor and quality of her garments contrasting heavily with the general aesthetic of Mahporeem. Ronhar had always found the Atrisians a bit on the...excessive side of things, but he knew that it wasn't just for show. If anyone had credits to spend, it would be the Atrisians, and given that the Imperial Remnant had actively fought to defend the planet from the aggression of the Galactic Empire, perhaps they might be willing to give Ronhar a good deal on any operations or goods that they sold him. Perhaps more concerningly, however, was the fact that the Atrisians had brought with them what Ronhar could only describe as some sort of massive creature, one that Ronhar was completely unfamiliar with. How in the actual hell had she gotten it past security? The Chrome Guardians that were guarding the room must have been thinking the exact same thing as they shifted around uncomfortably, clearly unsure if the beast before them was part of the negotiating party, the Atrisian's security or simply some sort of docile pet that Junko Ike kept around. Whatever it was, Ronhar didn't want to risk causing a scene, and so he let the intrusion slide.

"The Atrisian Commonwealth apologizes that ourr diplomatic envoy was unable to arrive. Prince Shoma is overseeing much but I am his sister Prrincess Junko."

"Not a problem", Ronhar replied cooly as his eyes kept drifting toward the creature besides Princess Junko. "Please, come and take a seat".

Next to arrive was Alex Stern , who looked very much the opposite of Princess Junko Ike , and very much like the average Mahporeenian: humble, working class and very much down to planet when compared to the more high and mighty Atrisians. ”Alex Stern, Director for Outer Rim Resources. Have we got any caf? Hyperspace always leaves me feeling a little lagged.", he asked Ronhar as he extended his hand forward in greeting. Ronhar reached out to accept it, shaking the man's hand back as he responded to him.

"Absolutely. I'll have the droids bring you some if you take a seat".

With a couple of quick commands on his datapad, Ronhar summoned a number of Junkyard Protocol Droids into the conference room, each carrying a tray of assorted beverages with them: water, Caf, Blue milk and even some alcoholic varieties of drink. Ronhar had to resist the urge to tell his guests that everything was safe to drink, given the planet's environmental problems, but ultimately decided not to, as he didn't want them any additional leverage that they could use in the upcoming meeting. The droids went to every chair, whether or not it was occupied, and placed the same drinks around the table for the guests to have, even those coming later.

Judah Dashiell arrived third, though he didn't directly greet Ronhar, instead traveling right to his seat. If ever there was someone who understood scrapping and salvaging more than Mahporeem did, it was Judah Dashiell , and perhaps he might have some ideas on how to reduce the pollution and environmental impact that Mahporeenian operations had on the planet. Honestly, Ronhar would take any advice that he could get, especially if said advice came freely!

Prystill Oasay slipped into the room right after Judah did, and Ronhar couldn't help but feel his heart flutter at the sight of her. Given the sudden collapse of the Confederation, Ronhar had been unable to get into contact with Pry until recently, and he hadn’t been sure that she was safe or even still alive given everything that had happened. Honestly, all he wanted to do at this moment was run over to her, hold her close to his body and give her a deep kiss, but he restrained himself on account of the negotiations. Much like with the drinks, he didn’t want to give those at the conference anything that they could use against him, and he was almost positive no one knew about his relationship with Pry. She must have felt the same way since she just quietly walked over to the Mahporeenian side, much to Ronhar’s approval.

Immediately after Pry came Danger Arceneau , another business giant and apparently someone who had history with Judah Dashiell , which Ronhar was hoping he might be able to use against the two, though he doubted it would be easy. The last to arrive was Ivalyn Yvarro , though they came not in person but instead by holoprojector, making their presence known. Of all the factions represented today, Ivalyn Yvarro 's was by far the most interesting to Ronhar, being an Imperial faction much like his. The Grand Vizier acknowledged those in the meeting, saying:

"My apologies for not being able to present in person. I trust, holo shall suffice. Good to see Mr. Dashiell and Ms. Arceneau in the same room, a pleasure, I'm sure."

The rest of the delegates were running late, likely because of the rain and "random" security searches, and some of those around the table were starting to make small talk amongst themselves. Ronhar didn't want them to get to comfortable, and any latecomers would be quickly filled in on what was going on when they arrived. As far as Ronhar was concerned, it was time to get things started. He rose out of his chair as he addressed all those present:

"Thank you all for arriving here on such short notice. For those of you who don't know who I am, my name is Captain Ronhar Tane of the Mahporeem Imperial Remnant, and I have been given the power to negotiate on the Imperial Remnant's behalf. Next to me is Prystill Oasay , who, besides being one of the most charming and intelligent woman that I've ever met, is currently serving as the civilian liaison to the Imperial Remnant's government. She can answer any questions you may have or clarify any concerns that are brought up during this meeting".

Ronhar risked just the briefest of glances toward Pry, hoping he hadn't revealed to much, before continuing with his speech:

"As you all know, the last few years have been difficult for the entire galaxy, to say nothing of Mahporeem. Being the Galactic Empire and Sith attacks on the Core, the sudden collapse of both the Imperial Confederation and the Diarchy and the general state of lawlessness, we are currently experiencing a refugee crisis of proportions never seen before in the history of the galaxy."

At this point, the holoprojector in the center of the table began displaying a diagram of Mahporeem with various different readouts and graphics surrounding it.

"As of 900 A.B.Y, the latest Mahporeenian census registered about 787 million souls residing on the planet. However, new estimates place this number now closer to 800 million, and Mahporeem expects to grow its population to over 850 million souls by the end of the decade, assuming the rapid pace of those arriving on the planet doesn't increase even more. Of course, the easiest solution to this problem would be to simply expel all those attempting to settle on Mahporeem, but we believe that this influx of people and aliens journeying to our world presents as much of an opportunity as it does difficulty. In just the last six months alone, Mahporeem has jumped into the top 100 most sought after planets, and we believe that its position will only continue to become more desirable as time goes on."

"As such, you've all been invited here today to ensure Mahporeem continues its galactic rise unabated, by providing us with the tools and knowledge necessary to ensure we are able to sustain such a rapidly growing population. We have identified three ways to make this happen. Firstly, by securing long term trade deals centered around the importation of foodstuffs and water onto the planet. Secondly, by acquiring space stations capable of providing us with the aforementioned items in perpetuity. And finally, by having those with terraforming experience come to the planet to assist us with environmental cleanup operations. These three facets will enable the Imperial Remnant to not only survive but thrive, and presents all of you here opportunities to expand your own businesses and create lasting relationships with a rising galactic power."

"Now...how do we proceed from here? What solutions do you have to offer the Imperial Remnant?"

TAGS:
Danger Arceneau
Junko Ike
Ivalyn Yvarro
Judah Dashiell
Braze
Alex Stern
Prystill Oasay
Supisy Blen
Those with private invitations

​

​

 

[Junko Ike]

Judah Dashiell Ivalyn Yvarro Supisy Blen Danger Arceneau Prystill Oasay Alex Stern Ronhar Tane

Supisy coming in with her was a treat and she was glad that she had not stayed on the ship. From under the veil she looked at the others as they arrived and some sat down, some spoke. She moved to the seat with a bow to their host when she moved into her seat. Xifang sitting down behind her in a more protective lounge as he seemed to ignore the guards and didn't react negatively to them which was a plus to her. There were a lot more Imperial groups and she knew some had fought with them at Atrisia against the empire and their death star so... Xifang not reacting like he wanted to eat you was a good thing before she spoke.

"We have unloaded ten cases of emergency supplies Miazaki Bread, liquid Ultimo and Scentzy healing aids. As a show of appreciation for Jar'Kai." She said it while she sat down but didn't move a hand or remove her veil. More she took in the others that had been assembled with a nod of her head. Letting their host speak and give their needs while she remained there going over less what they could spare and more what he was saying. He wanted trade and deals which peaked her interest but they were terraforming the moons and other worlds within Commonwealth space for the growing population center. Refugees were admitted but it was much slower at the breakwater.

"We have resource and terraforming stations available. What is your current food situation? How long will you be able to feed all of the ones you are admitting?" She said it with a neutral tone while sitting there but wanted to gauge mostly if it was arrogance or national pride to make some of those claims... Atrrisia did the same so she couldn't fault him and they were doing more as the continued efforts had seen more of their citizens growing food as needed. The clean up of hostile equipment from the city of Jar'kai had provided much to their furnaces. "Stations are possible as well. as planetary seeds for terraforming and clean up."

 

[Alex Stern]

Appreciating the Captain's firm grip when he returned the handshake, Alex found his place and took the offered caf from the droid, grateful to see that the new government apparently wasn't wasting credits on buying shiny new serving droids. These were a people making do with what they had, stretching every resource to its last. The appearance of Danger brought a small smile to his lips, and an itch for his fingers to be about a cigarra of his own. Instead, he contented himself with the caffeine while the remainder of their group caught up or slipped a few verbal measures in as they pleased until Captain Tane got the meeting started.

He listened while the Commonwealth's representative put forward their supplies and offers, waiting for her to finish before leaning forward to slide the datapad he'd brought with him across the conference table to Ronhar and the most charming liaison working with him. "Before you calculate an answer to Tiger Lady's question of supply, you should know that I've brought with me a hundred thousand tons of fresh foods, another half million preserved, fifty thousand tons of tibanna, and enough prefab buildings and the ensuing plumbing and recycling to house about five thousand beings, along with a few other sundries. That's yours as soon as the Marry Ellen has a place to begin offloading."

"As for long-term infrastructure, I'm afraid Outer Rim Resources isn't in the business of terraforming, but what we can offer are stations, orbital agricultural platforms, and a habitation ring for lease, along with steady shipments of what we've brought today. Naturally, our full catalog is available at any time as well." That being the more ordinary fuel, raw materials, medical supplies, access to manufacturing, ships and weapons the company sold. Cards, and datapad full of specs, on the table, Alex sat back and returned to drinking his caf. He had more, but these were early moments yet.

Judah Dashiell | Ivalyn Yvarro | Supisy Blen | Danger Arceneau | Prystill Oasay | Ronhar Tane | Junko Ike​

 

[Everette Clairmont]

[ OUTFIT ]✦[ TAKING CARE OF BUSINESS ]✦

Tags: Danger Arceneau Ivalyn Yvarro Judah Dashiell Braze Alex Stern Prystill Oasay Supisy Blen Ronhar Tane ​

Everette Clairmont had arrived well before the room began to fill, having already seen personally to the delivery of the gifted 'shipment' sent under Star Bazaar's name. The containers had been arranged earlier at his instruction: neatly sealed, properly branded, and presented with the same polished professionalism he preferred in all such matters. Their contents came from one of the company's newer subsidies, Bao Wow ✦ Bento Box ✦, accompanied by bottled selections from their expanding beverage lines. It was a generous offering on its face, but Everette had not sent it merely as a courtesy. It served equally well as proof: proof of production, of logistics, of scale. Whatever else might be said of Braze's ventures, they had already begun building systems capable of feeding people, supplying workers, and supporting civilian recovery at a meaningful level.

Having satisfied himself that everything had arrived as intended, Everette turned his full attention to the conference itself. He stood slightly apart from the center of the gathering, hands folded loosely behind his back, posture straight, expression composed behind the glint of his immaculately clean glasses. Already he could hear the beginnings of it as more attendees entered the room: the careful greetings, the polished overtures, the subtle strain of competitors attempting to appear confident without seeming overeager. Everette listened in silence as their Host drew the meeting to a start. Rooms such as these often revealed far more before formal talks ever began, and he had long ago learned the value of hearing what people said when they were still trying to impress one another.

He had traveled here alone.... Again.

The journey aboard The Argent Envoy had been quiet and efficient, exactly as Everette preferred. The sleek corporate shuttle provided by Starcraft Shipyards offered every necessary comfort for business travel without slipping into vulgar display; a well-appointed interior, a compact office space, a data console, refreshments, and little else intended to call attention to itself. Its exterior bore only the subtle insignia of Starcraft Shipyards, understated and deliberate. Everette had always found it an agreeable vessel, practical in design and elegant in execution. It suited both his taste and his station within the company.

As he stood now among the gathering crowd, Everette found his thoughts straying—as they so often did in such moments—to the one who had sent him. Braze, the young owner of the growing network Everette so often represented, was absent yet again. That, in itself, was no surprise. Braze had developed a habit of vanishing into matters Everette found increasingly difficult to categorize as sensible business priorities. Smugglers. Pirates. Jedi entanglements. Passion projects pursued with all the intensity of a man who still believed he could throw himself against every fire in the galaxy and come away unburned. Everette did not pretend to understand the impulse, nor did he care for the pattern it had become. It was one thing for a youthful heir to be impulsive. It was another for the owner of a sprawling corporate empire to treat near-fatal adventures as though they were merely interruptions between meetings.

And yet, much to Everette's private irritation, Braze's instincts had not proven entirely unsound.

That was the vexing part of it. Beneath all the recklessness, all the wandering heroics and half-formed spiritual pursuits, there remained something undeniably productive. Farms had been established where shortages once ruled. Supply networks had begun to hold. Refugee aid and sanctuary efforts had taken shape not as lofty ideals, but as real structures capable of bearing weight. Even these newer subsidiaries; food services, beverage distribution, civilian-facing ventures, were not frivolous additions, but extensions of a broader framework that had already begun doing real good in places where stability had worn thin. Braze might have behaved at times like a boy playing Jedi with one hand while signing off on corporate authorizations with the other… but the work being done beneath his name was real.

Everette had seen to that.

His expression shifted only slightly at the thought, the faintest tightening at the mouth before a gentle restrained stillness reclaimed it. He had, after all, helped build much of what now stood beneath Braze's banner. He had taken what began as an unruly Brat's inheritance and given it shape, order, and continuity with direction and stability. The memory of Braze as a child still surfaced from time to time, absurdly self-assured, selecting him with that strange little certainty and effectively 'picking him from the lawyer store' as though such things were done every day. It had been ridiculous then. In some ways, it felt no less ridiculous now. Only now the child had become a young man, and the scale of his ventures had grown far beyond the sort of mistakes youth should have been allowed to make.

That thought led, as it inevitably did, to the newest complication that vexed Everette's growing list of responsibilities...

Braze's father, once presumed dead, had begun taking interest once more in Solarix and in the shape of what had become of the heir's trust. Curious, it seemed, to see what the child had done with his inheritance… and what had been built from it. It was an unwelcome development as far as Everette was concerned. Men who returned from the dead rarely did so for simple reasons, and Everette had little taste for sudden paternal interest appearing only after the empire had become large enough to warrant attention. Still, the matter was beyond the scope of today's work, no matter how irritatingly it pressed at the edges of his thoughts nor how much the man claimed to have no interest in running such an empire.

For a fleeting moment, something softer threatened to take shape beneath his irritation.... Concern, perhaps.

Braze was no longer merely a difficult child with expensive habits and lofty ideas. He was older now, old enough to throw himself into genuine danger, old enough to mistake Duty for invulnerability. His ventures had grown more perilous, his causes more tangled, and his risks less... theoretical. Everette recognized this… and just as quickly dismissed it. Concern would not help him here. Nor would it would improve negotiations, stabilize supply lines, or put food in civilian hands.

So he returned his focus to the room.

That, in the end, was why he had come. Not for the Imperials. Not for pageantry. Not even strictly for the contracts, though he intended to take the measure of those as well. He was here because crises such as this were never borne by officials and executives alone. They settled downward, as they always did, onto workers, families, refugees, and ordinary people left to endure whatever grand designs others had set in motion. Star Bazaar and Starcraft Shipyards already possessed infrastructure that could matter here, not in theory, but in practice. Everette had not come to present himself as just another bidder among a room full of ambitious opportunists. He had come as the representative of systems already functioning, already scaling, already capable of easing strain where it mattered most.

And so he waited, composed and attentive, having already been present long enough to hear more than most would guess. His gaze moved across the room once more, measuring faces, weighing tones, noting who spoke with substance and who merely wished to be seen speaking at all.

Seeing familiar faces among the gathering did little to soften Everette's composure, though he would have been lying to himself had he claimed it went wholly unnoticed. Judah, Alex, and Danger… names and impressions drawn not from idle acquaintance, but from prior dealings, from measured conversations and the quiet judgments that always followed them. Time had not rendered them strangers; it had merely placed them at a new angle. That, more than novelty, held his attention. A room full of unknowns demanded caution. A room containing known quantities demanded comparison.

Alex, at least, was easy enough to place. Everette remembered him as a man with vision sharpened by utility, someone who seemed to value expansion not as spectacle, but as process. There had been something appreciable in that. Function. Practicality and a willingness to build with purpose rather than merely talk around it. Seeing him here again lent the gathering a little more substance in Everette's mind. Not enough to inspire ease… but enough to suggest that not every voice in the room would be there simply to hear itself speak.

When Alex finally made his contribution, Everette found his earlier judgment confirmed. The offer arrived plainly, almost cleanly, food, preserved stores, tibanna, prefab housing, infrastructure measured in tonnage and capacity rather than sentiment. His expression did not change, though his attention fixed more fully upon the exchange. This, at least, was useful. Not a performance, nor some vague civic virtue dressed in polished language… but stock that could be offloaded, shelters that could be raised, strain that could be answered with something more substantial than optimism. Everette neither nodded nor interrupted. He simply listened, and in that silence granted the nearest thing he ever offered to outward approval.

 

[Danger Arceneau]

Interacting with: Ronhar Tane Junko Ike Judah Dashiell Alex Stern Prystill Oasay Ivalyn Yvarro Everette Clairmont

Danger greeted the Grand Vizier's hologram with a warm cordial smile and an incline of her head. She had spent time in the Commonwealth before, and had come to terms on a mutually beneficial solution of trade and goods with the people of Dosuun.

"A pleasure," she offered, voice rolling out in a honeyed rasp as she dipped her head. Holograms made sense these days, what with the Blackwall and all. Wasn't her first time seeing business done at a distance, nor her first time facing a little competition. That was just the nature of good business.

"And a belated congratulations," she added, warmth threading through her tone after Judah's mention of the honeymoon.

Soon enough, her focus drifted back to the matter at hand. Danger set her datapad down with quiet precision, her thumb idly tracing its edge while the other hand rolled an unlit cigarillo between her fingers in a small, steady rhythm that matched the way her mind worked through a problem.

Danger never cared much for undercutting or slandering the competition. That was short-game thinking. If a client found a better offer elsewhere, then so be it. All it meant was the network widened, the connections deepened, and trust had room to grow. In her experience, you didn't build an empire by cutting corners -- you built it by making sure people came back to your table.

Her gaze flicked briefly toward Junko Ike as Sasori's proposal was laid out, and she gave a faint, approving nod.

"Sasori's got themselves a fine spread of tools," she noted, her voice murmured with a smoky tone, easy and without edge. "Terraformin' stations like that'll serve Mahporeem well."

The Queen of Trade shifted, just slightly before settling into her seat as her attention returned to the room.

"What Arceneau Trade brings," she continued, her words drawled out with a honeyed rasp, "is what happens after the dust settles."

A small gesture of her hand toward the display.

"We've spent decades detoxifyin' what others and war have left behind -- oceans choked out, soil turned barren, atmospheres that forgot how to breathe. Corellia, Mandalore, Vjun, Dac, Brentaal IV, Ord Mantell, Taris, Zygerria… and more than a few others that didn't make the headlines."

Her emerald gaze settled calmly on Ronhar.

"I'm not here to sell you on outshinin' anyone at this table," she added, spoken in a low, velvet rasp. "Truth is, the best outcome for Mahporeem's gonna come from the right pieces workin' together."

A faint smile touched her lips.

"So here's my offer, plain and simple," she said, leaning forward just a fraction. "We stabilize your world where it stands. Clean what needs cleanin', restore what's been worn thin to rejuvinate once more, and build you systems that don't leave you dependent on imports forever."

Her fingers stilled on the cigarillo.

"And if that means workin' alongside Sasori or anyone else in this room to fine-tune it?" A small, knowing tilt of her head. "Then that's exactly what we'll do."