Faction The Resistance Connection (Underground / Verge Flotilla)

[Council of Captains]

Birgis, Overgrown Spaceport

Once, centuries ago, Birgis had seen war. It had briefly been a key player in a clash between the New Republic, the Mandalorians, and the terrifying Yuuzhan Vong, one piece of the Outer Rim defensive line represented by the Veragi Trade Route. The planet's defenders had fought to the last man. Perhaps they had bought time with their lives, allowing millions of refugees to flee further coreward, people who might otherwise have been intercepted by the extragalactic invaders. Or perhaps their sacrifice had been meaningless, just another minor speed bump to the onrushing armada.

Eight centuries later, the planet had been abandoned to obscurity and quiet rot. It sat just past the Sith border world of Sernpidal, just barely beyond the iron grasp of the Dark Lords, and looked likely to stay that way a while - the Emperor's attention had been drawn westward, to the civil war pressing in on more important territories. Half-finished Vongforming had mutated the local flora and fauna, and Birgis had become a place of rampant growth and equally rapid decay, the old settlements all but swallowed by the steady progress of time and nature. Traders met occasionally in orbit, but few dared venture down to the wild surface any longer.

That made it the perfect hiding place for those who operated at the edge of the Empire.

Two such groups had recently chosen the Birgis spaceport, silent and empty since the end of its role in that battle so long ago, as a meeting place to forge a new connection. One was the Verge Flotilla, a vagrant fleet of refugees and outlaws operating out beyond Sith space. The other was the reconstituted Underground, the vast shadow network of agents fighting back against a rising tide of evil and tyranny across the galaxy. They had agreed to come to Birgis to discuss what they could do for one another - the Flotilla becoming a safe place for refugees rescued from tyranny, and the Underground providing resources and training to help protect them.

Of course, there was plenty for agents on both sides to do beyond simple meetings and negotiations...

Objective A: Ensure that the Underground - Flotilla meeting goes smoothly, and get to know the members of the other group!

Objective B: Scavenge for caches of New Republic weapons, lost when Birgis fell to the Yuuzhan Vong. Watch out for wildlife!

Objective C: Help fix up the abandoned spaceport so that it can become a safe haven for future meetings and cargo transfers.

 

[Rance Draysom]

Objective A: The Meeting | Tag: Veino Garn

Beside the half-ruined landing pad of the vine-choked spaceport, Fleet Marshal Rance Draysom waited quietly. The breeze tugged at his hair, messy and uneven from his failure to pay much attention to it, and at his long leatheris duster coat. He let the humid wind wash over him, let the cries of strange avians and the growls of distant predators echo up to his waiting ears. He stood, unmoving, eyes closed, and breathed deep of the first fresh air he'd tasted in a week. The recycled air you got aboard a ship just wasn't the same.

With each breath, Rance worked to calm himself. He needed this arrangement to work. He'd been pleasantly surprised when someone had reached out to him through his contacts, proposing a meeting with the infamous Underground. Apparently, they had refugees they wanted to keep safe - and in this region of space, the Flotilla was the only group of free and independent drifters working on doing anything like that. But the situation that had erupted over Rychel was still fresh in the Fleet Marshal's mind, its harsh lessons weighing heavily on him.

He knew that, if the Flotilla was going to take on more refugees, it would also need the supplies to feed and defend them.

It was said, though, that the Underground had connections everywhere, that they could get you anything you needed if it helped serve them in their goals of bringing down the galaxy's tyrants. Rance wasn't much for politics himself, not anymore; he'd joined the Flotilla to get away from all that, to escape the choking laws and raging wars that had consumed so much of the galaxy. But he understood the Underground's drive to change all that, one system at a time if they had to, and he knew that their previous incarnation had been fething good at it.

So he waited, one hand on the butt of his blaster, the other in his duster pocket, and let the breeze keep him company. His contact should be arriving soon, and then they could talk business. Until then, he had people making the most of this planet's resources, just as they did with every world along the Flotilla's route. They would find whatever supplies they could here, and they would make use of them, no matter how old or secondhand. Anything that might keep them from having another food riot was more than worth the effort.

Hopefully, this meeting would prove to be worth the effort too...

 

[Veino Garn]

Rance Draysom Council of Captains

"Coordinates approaching." The calm, computerized voice brought Veino out of his reverie and he deactivated the display of the map. It was an older map, all things considered, but it was the best they had for the Sith Empire's current territory. Nothing about fleet deployments, hyperspace checkpoints, or general security yet. That was the information they would need to pull this off. It would take time, effort, resources, and most importantly, volunteers. Either from outside the Empire to go in and scout these out, or informants from within.

But that was less important than what they had come here to do. If they had wanted, the rest of the Underground agents had flown with him, but a few were partial to their own ships. Understandably so, and wise of them. Never put all your eggs in one basket, or in this case, all your operatives in a single ship, even if it was more inconspicuous.

He could just make out the ancient spaceport where his contact was meeting him. Switching off autopilot, he guided the ship down to an area clear of jungle undergrowth. The ship settled down onto the landing struts. The hydraulics settled and vented steam as the landing ramp deployed. Humid, hot air hit Veino right in the face and he tossed the coat onto the back of the captain's chair.

With that behind, he strode down the ramp where he could make out someone waiting. Most likely his contact. "Fleet Marshal?" Veino called as he approached, holding a hand out to shake. "Veino Garn. The Underground sent me. We're here to help."

Spoiler: Underground Tag

Jared Starchaser Katarine Falcon Vaeri Kimiko Taiyou Vouvry Audren Sykes

 

[Rance Draysom]

Objective A: The Meeting | Tag: Veino Garn

Rance looked up as the hum of engines met his ears. He watched quietly as the escort freighter, its spider-like mandibles bristling with autoblaster emplacements, set down in the clearing beside the ancient landing pad - almost certain a good decision, as the cracked permacrete of the pad itself looked unlikely to be structurally sound. The half-Vongformed jungle had done an impressive job of eating away at the last remnants of civilization here, sometimes literally; the duracrete slugs here were particularly voracious.

A man walked down the ramp, and Rance got his first look at his contact from the Underground. He judged the man to be in his forties, but it was clear he'd lived hard for a long time - Rance could make out the edges of a network of scars, some of them clearly from lightsabers, that put his own to shame. "Rance Draysom," he replied, accepting Veino's handshake. "Glad you could make it. We don't dare cross Sith territory, but I guess they wouldn't call you the Underground if you weren't damn good at going unseen."

With a gesture, Rance invited Veino - and any Underground agents who cared to accompany him - into one of the spaceport's few intact offices. The walls were cracked, so the oppressive humidity still lingered in the indoor air, but it was a least a little cooler inside. Rance had set up an old desk and scavenged a few chairs to sit around it. He plopped himself down in one, flicking a huge tropical insect off the armrest with a brush of his sleeve, and invited the Underground reps to sit as well. Then he produced a bottle of Cheedoan whiskey and several cups.

The Fleet Marshal was doing his best to act the gracious host, even if the meeting point was... less than comfortable.

It would likely be just him representing the Flotilla in these negotiations; other agents of the fleet would be scavenging, trying to get whatever supplies they could out of Birgis before they left the sector. After what had happened on Rychel, Rance doubted it'd be long before the locals put together a militia to run them off. There was some hope, though, that the old spaceport here could be fixed up. If a relationship between the Flotilla and the Underground could be forged today, they would need a place to meet in secret, exchanging supplies and info.

Rance poured a glass of whiskey and offered it to Veino. "We could certainly use your help. But what do you need from us?"

 

[Ned Rhosen]

Objective C: Fixing up the Spaceport

Ned wandered around the spaceport in sheer disbelief. He had heard stories of the Yuuzhan Vong and how they conquered worlds and tailored them to their needs, with their distrust of technology. He had thought they were just tales told by parents to scare their children. It was clear now that he was here on Birgis that they were not stories, they were not a figment of someone's imagination, they had been real. It was also clear that they really disliked technology.

Ned, along with some of the other engineers and salvagers aboard the fleet, had been asked to do an initial walk around the spaceport and see if there was anything they could do to return it to a useable state, its former glory would have been to big a statement. So far, that didn't look especially easy, but never say never. In all honesty this wasn't Ned speciality, that lay in keeping spaceships in space, droids droid-ing and weapons firing, not in removing sentient Flora imbedded into the ancient spaceport.

"Wow" whispered Ned, in somewhat disbelief, the bleeping and whirring of the accompanying WED Treadwell repair droid snapped him out of his daze, it was stuck trying to navigate over a particularly bulbous vine, "Maybe it wasn't the best idea to wheel you out for this one" remarked Ned helping the droid over the obstacle, he was greeted with another blast of bleeping, "I know, I know!" he laughed as they continued to move forward.

The droid had been one of the ones they had managed to recover from their visit to the abandoned shipyard over Cilare, thankfully it was one of the easier models to work on, Ned had been hoping to get a couple of labour droids in action before they had got here but their circuits had been much harder to manipulate than that of the Treadwell, still it was a useful droid to have, if they found any technology left in a useable state.

"What do you think Tread, shall we head down here or over that way?" asked Ned looking at his companion, he received a chorus of beeps and followed the droid down deeper into the Spaceport.

 

[Veino Garn]

Rance Draysom

Veino followed the fleet marshal to where the meeting place was. An ancient table, some just as ancient chairs. He took one and spun it around to take a seat at the table, shrugging at the words, pointing out to where his old escort freighter. "That thing gets through enemy lines easier and more efficiently than that fleet you got up in orbit. Added a few modifications."

He raised a glass. "Need from you?" He shrugged and ran a hand through his hair as he considered. "Just a place to dock, rest, and maybe refuel on this side of the empire. Any information you have on how the Sith Empire operates, defenses, and the like. If you or your people have witnessed atrocities, speak up about it and share it with the galaxy."

Veino leaned back and grinned. "We survive by knowing how to be self-sufficient. And we have... backers elsewhere with supplies and credits, even ships now and then. Gives us the opportunity to not need to ask anything of those who have less." He rapped his knuckles on the table idly. "It's how we can do anything. "But mostly, what we're here for is to help others. If any want to volunteer with us, we'll be glad to have them. Otherwise, what does the fleet need?"

 

[Rance Draysom]

Objective A: The Meeting | Tag: Veino Garn

Rance poured himself a glass as well, and raised it to meet Veino's with a clink. He'd been hitting the sauce hard lately, even harder than his normally high intake; the buzz that cleared away all the grief and fear and weight of responsibility was all that kept him from putting a blaster in his mouth these days. Ever since the riots he'd barely been able to sleep. The faces of all the people who had died trying to get their hands on the fleet's mythical stash of food supplies had joined the faces of those he'd personally shot in his nightmares.

It was a fine line to walk - sober enough to function, buzzed enough to forget how much he hated himself for his failures.

"She's a beauty," the Fleet Marshal replied, feeling a pang of jealousy as he glanced out the window at the escort freighter. He could only dream of the kind of powerful after-market modifications that had turned the ship into a blockade runner that could sneak across the entire breadth of the Sith Empire; all of his efforts working on the ships of the Flotilla were barely enough to keep them running at all. But maybe the Underground could help with that. Maybe they had the resources to get the fleet a few fancy add-ons of their own.

"You've got a place to lay your heads with us anytime," Rance said, "and we'll share what we can, information and otherwise. As for what we've witnessed..." Rance let out a bitter chuckle. "We've got more stories than anyone cares to hear. There are folks here who saw the fall of Gand, Iego, Dac, Voss... you name it. But the truth is, everyone knows. Everyone the galaxy over knows what's going on. There just aren't enough who are willing to put their lives, and the lives of their families, on the line to stop it."

Rance shrugged. "They can stay out of it, so they mostly do. Can't blame 'em. Guess that's what makes y'all special."

The Fleet Marshal listened carefully to the rest of what Veino had to say, draining his glass and pouring himself another as the man spoke. He wished the Flotilla had backers, but who had the wealth and influence to back them out here, in this last little strip of poor, isolated systems the Sith hadn't snapped up yet? "Generous of you," he said, raising his refilled glass to toast the Underground's leader. "To be honest, what we need are the basics. Food. Blankets. Medicine. Fuel. Replacement parts. Just enough to keep us running."

He shrugged again. "You'll find some of us who'll fight with you, but we're mostly just ordinary folks with nowhere to go."

 

[Vouvry]

Objective C: Learning on the job

Running down the ship ramp, Vouvry's eyes darted from side to side, quickly analysing and taking in whatever he could from the new surroundings he found himself in. Despite the rather lengthy time he had spent in these reaches of the galaxy, this region was new, unexplored and exciting. Being late was never very pleasant, especially not when meeting people for the first time. Still, the young Mirialan had high hopes that he would be able to make a good impression on their new friends. Aside from the usual stuff he used to carry around with him, Vouvry also held a tool kit in his left hand, containing various items which could be of use for repairs. Althought he had experience using them all in the past, he was not an expert by any means.

Arriving at the meeting location - a larger room with plenty of vegetation festering on the old spaceports with occasional islands of newly set-up equipment - Vouvry saw a single remaining man sitting by a large console. "Hey" he said, calling out to the stranger, loud enough for him to hear despite the headset he was wearing. Receiving an absentminded "Hi" in return, the Mirialan kept making his way closer until he found them at a comfortable conversational distance "Where are the others?" Momentarily drawing his eyes from the monitors, the other turned around to look at Vouvry with a sigh "Which others? Could you be a bit more clear?" The man's annoyed demeanour quickly changed once he paused for a moment and saw the toolkit and realised where the new arrival belonged. Faced with nothing but awkward silence and a matching smile he continued "The other engineers went thataway, they didn't leave too long ago, you can still catch up."

The other engineers - the words lingered in the young Mirialan's mind for a few moments as he pondered whether to correct the man or not: For he was certainly not an engineer himself. Finally deciding to not bring it up, he nodded and let out an enthusiastic "Thanks" before turning around to leave. The other guy - who Vouvry had identified as some sort of logistics or communications officer - spoke up for a last time as the green-skinned alien was leaving "Remember to be available on coms and call if you need us."

Soon, he was jogging down the corridors at a leisurely pace, just enough to comfortably avoid tripping over the many roots and old debris that was scattered on the floor. While it would have been marvelous to be able to stay and examine the flora more carefully, catching up was the main priority now. The corridors split up from time to time but oftentimes, it was easy enough to see where people had stepped recently with the droid being extra easy to track.

After taking a right turn, a voice followed by a few chirps from a droid could finally be heard in the distance. Vouvry spoke a friendly "Hello!" before even seeing the person in question and proceeded towards them. Approaching them with a smile, the young Mirialan stretched out a hand to the stranger "I'm Vouvry" he said. Once given the chance, he would pat the droid on its head "Hey there pal" before refocusing on the other sentient "I see you are on the right path" he joked with both thumbs briefly pointing to the right, alluding to that being the most recent turn they took. Despite of the rather horrid joke, he still eagerly awaited the laughter with a cheesy smile.

Ned Rhosen

 

[Ned Rhosen]

Objective C: Fixing up the Spaceport

Ned jumped a little as the Mirialan introduced himself, he had been told to expect others, but he hadn't even heard anyone approaching, there was a strong argument to suggest his chat with the droid had distracted him, however whilst exploring a strange and abandoned spaceport, the mechanic should have been paying more attention, he chastised himself mentally, thankfully though the stranger seemed friendly.

"Hey, I'm Ned" he responded quickly as the stranger called Vouvry patted Tread on his photoreceptors, a volley of whirring and bleeping greeted the actions of Vouvry, before Ned had chance to distinguish if they were positive or negative he'd snorted and let out a belly laugh at the awful pun made by the newcomer, "Yeah, I guess we are" he replied once he gained his composure again.

Ned looked around at their surroundings before focusing back in on Vouvry, "This place is incredible, I've never seen anything like it, how I'm meant to fix anything here is beyond be from what I've seen so far, give me circuits and wires any day but the flora seems to have embedded itself into the very fabric of everything" he shook his head a little realizing he hadn't actually confirmed who the stranger was, alls he had to go on was the name he'd given him, "sorry, are you here with the Underground or the Flotilla, there's so many souls onboard with us I can never keep track, but I swear I've never seen you before so logically you must be with the Underground right?" Ned's mind was going ten to the dozen, between the location, the surprise of Vouvry appearing and his thirst for knowledge, he'd be impressed if the other being could keep up with him the speed that he was talking.

Vouvry

 

[Audren Sykes]

Objective B: Scavenging
Birgis

It had been a very long flight. It wasn't so much that Birgis was far - which it was - but that the distance he had to fly was nearly half again what it could of been by the route he took to avoid Sith forces. The New Imperial Order would be neutral towards him at best, and the Sith Empire would be anything but. His guess was that those with him had to fly at least double what he did though, so not a word was said in complaint. The planet they were headed to had long ago been the site of a conflict between the Yuuzhan Vong and the New Republic of the time. As had happened in so many conflicts with the invaders, the New Republic had lost the engagement. This led to the Vong slaughtering those left on-planet and terraforming the place. Little had been done to reverse the Vong-forming, so they were heading into a somewhat-unknown situation.

Audren spent much of the trip running benchmark tests, diagnostics, and physically examining the ship. It was a prototype light freighter and not yet completed, and he'd barely managed to convince the engineers to let him take it into the field. Secretly, he was pleased that it wasn't done, that it looked worn and used rather than brand new. It blended in better. The engineers been told how long he expected to be gone of course, but not where he was going. If they'd known he was heading near Sith space then no doubt key parts of the ship would have gone missing for "testing". Nor had he informed his cousin, who helped oversee day-to-day operations for TGM. She wouldn't have been happy that he was taking the thing, let alone where he was going. He just had the droids - they couldn't talk back - load the cargo bays with some equipment and a few probe droids then left.

Following Veino's lead, the Sephi set his ship down on the planet's surface rather than on the spaceport's crumbling permacrete. The cleaning he chose was closer to the spaceport itself but it was also slimmer, one that Garn's crescent-shaped freighter wouldn't have been able to fit in without knocking over a few trees. One of the landing struts didn't settle like the rest, which tilted the whole ship back and to one side. The ramps extended, and due to the tilt they didn't rest flush against the ground. It would make for some awkward unloading. The cargo bay doors opened, allowing droids within to start lugging the crates outside. The Jedi himself walked down the ramp and hopped down the meter-high overhang created by the off-balance ramp. In each hand he carried a large carrying case and behind him floated four probe droids.

Each case turned out to be carrying six small disc-shaped droids and a datapad. Another prototype set. Some fiddling with the datapads - entering command strings and shifting it back and forth between the probe and disc droids - resulted in the smaller discs rising to orbit the probe droids. Three smaller units to a larger core unit. With a wave of his hand the Sephi sent them on their way and turned back towards the offloading. Each headed in a cardinal direction with the freighter as a center and once past the clearing the smaller droids began spreading out from the core probe.

Only the first few crates had been removed, and the droids were stacking them neatly. Audren had brought items that he thought an outpost would need: generators, rations, basic medkits, some quick-build shelters, and general camp/survival gear. Some of this came from company equipment stock, but most of it was purchased with his personal account. Even he could only divert so much from his company before people started noticing and he couldn't really justify doing it. Satisfied with the progress so far, he sat on one of the stacks and brought out his datapad. It showed a map of the area from a birds-eye perspective with a translucent blue overlay spreading out...from the four cardinal directions. He wanted to go out to find stuff, but a planet was a big place and he wasn't stupid. And he maybe might have wanted to test the equipment.

Rance Draysom Veino Garn Ned Rhosen Vouvry

 

[R7-4A "Foray"]

Objective B: Scavenging | Tag: Audren Sykes

As the Jedi sent out his probes and oversaw the unloading of much-needed supplies, the whirring of little wheels rang out in the clearing where he had landed. Before long, an astromech droid trundled into view, its head spinning in circles so that its ocular sensor could take in everything at once. Spotting Audren and his probe droids, now headed off to scout the local jungle, the astromech rushed up to him, trilling excitedly. "Bweeeeeooo! Deet deet dwoooooo." In binary, it introduced itself as R7-4A.

"Foray" had only recently been reactivated; the Fleet Marshals had found the little droid in a back room of the Birgis spaceport when they'd started setting things up for their meeting with the Underground. After some brief repairs and explanations, he'd been ready to work with his new master, Fleet Marshal Draysom. The galaxy was still confusing to Foray; the last he could remember, he'd been plugged into the back of an E-Wing over Helska IV, blasting away at Coralskippers. It has hard to believe it'd been over 800 years since then.

It was hard to believe that all the pilots and support techs he'd worked with were long gone. Foray trilled sadly at the thought.

But an R7 Unit was the pride of the New Republic, cutting-edge technology (at least back then) with a personality matrix to match its incredible processing power and special equipment. Foray had no intention of letting his sadness get in the way of following his core directive: to protect his master and friends from evil. The astromech had flown no small number of missions protecting refugee convoys fleeing pirates and Yuuzhan Vong invaders, and he saw protecting the Flotilla as a logical extension of that old but ongoing mission.

For right now, that meant finding enough supplies to keep them going. Unfortunately, organics had high maintenance requirements.

As Audren produced the datapad map that his probe droids had created for him, Foray activated his own projector. He had been stationed at this base before, and plugged into the computer network back when it was functional, so he knew where all the essentials were kept: fuel, weapons, starship parts, everything. The problem that the astromech was beginning to recognize, however, was that 800 years of mutant growth had changed the topography, swallowing the base with vines, trees, and hills of soil that hadn't been there before.

Still, Foray was able to project three locations onto Audren's map, his best approximation of where the locations of key supplies had ended up after centuries of shifting terrain. With any luck, the Jedi would be able to track them down... with Foray's enthusiastic assistance, of course! "Dweee do na do, da no bweee?" he trilled, asking where Audren wanted to start. He would follow the Jedi's lead, knowing from experience that these Knights of the Republic were capable warriors and excellent friends to have.

 

[Veino Garn]

Rance Draysom R7-4A "Foray" Audren Sykes Vouvry Ned Rhosen
===========================

Veino leaned back in the chair, listening as the Fleet Marshal spoke. It was true. He had been lucky when reactivating the Underground that the foundation had already been laid and he had two decades of experience and connections to pull from. Not to mention the corporate connections the Jensaarai had cultivated over the past hundred years. These folks were starting from scratch. He remembered that, the early days of the Underground, when he was only a few years younger than the marshal. He was in no way ready for the burden of responsibility the man now carried.

"She gets the job done," Veino admitted. "And doesn't draw too much attention out on the fringes." He took another sip from the glass, listening, as Rance poured a second. "Excellent, that's all we ask." He leaned forward during the next comments however. "Everyone knows, but they don't know." He hoped the emphasis would be enough to carry across the meaning. "News reports are one thing. Eyewitness statements? Those are something else entirely. That'll get people motivated."

He took a deep breath and leaned back, with a half-smile. "We were only ever ordinary folk. Only difference is I've been fighting this war for twenty years. As for those basics, we can get you those."

Veino jotted notes down in his datapad before sliding it shut. "How many do you need and when? It won't be fast, but we can start moving shipments once we set up a logistics pipeline. If you need it urgently, we can get a ship coming through Sith territory within a week and arriving here within a month. assuming they don't run into trouble." He did some more calculations. "Otherwise, it might take a few months. The best blockade runner I've ever met is fixing up her latest ship to get through any blockade and makes regular cargo runs towards the core. I can get her to come this way with your cargo."

Another thought struck him. "Got an inventory of ships you need parts for? Might be able to track them down or jury-rig some that will make do."

 

[Rance Draysom]

Objective A: The Meeting | Tag: Veino Garn

Rance smiled sadly as Veino assured him that people would care if only they could hear the survivors' firsthand accounts. He tried not to judge people he'd never met, and he'd freely admit that he'd never been to the Core, to the regions of space where democratic governments and Jedi protectorates still stood in opposition to tyrannical regimes like the Sith Empire. But he found it hard to believe that the people there could be made to care enough that they would put their lives on the line and rise up to fight evil. Only a few had that kind of conviction.

The galaxy was full to bursting with tragic stories of undeserved suffering. Most people tuned them out in order to stay sane.

But hey, he wasn't the seasoned rebel leader; maybe his cynicism, particularly since the food riots, was casting a shadow over his thoughts that Veino didn't suffer from. Rance wasn't in their fight, and would probably only ever be tangentially part of it, so he didn't see what they saw. But then, maybe Veino was the one who was way off in his view of reality. In Rance's opinion, it took a special blend of faith, hubris, and insane courage to stand up to the Sith directly, a blend that he'd never had. When he faced odds like that, he cut his losses and ran.

Twenty years, he thought. I wonder where I'll be in twenty years? Will I even still be alive? Will anyone from the fleet be?

Veino was organized, efficient, and confident, Rance had to give him that. He stumbled over his words, surprised that the man had agreed so readily to help supply them. "I, ah... I'll get you a list," he replied, cursing himself for not having the data ready. "Anything you can run to us, whenever you can, would be a big help. We've got nearly a million refugees with us, three hundred thousand on the Tears of Taloraan alone, so just trying to figure out the logistics within the fleet has been... well, it's been a nightmare."

He finished his second glass of whiskey, considered pouring a third, and managed to restrain himself when he realized that it would make him look like a raging alcoholic. Which he absolutely was, but he didn't have to prove it in the middle of negotiations. "We can use Birgis as a meeting point, get the spaceport patched up, at least until we've moved too far south. It's far enough past the border that Sith patrols don't bother checking it. All their attention's focused westward now, anyway, what with the civil war."

Rance paused, then glanced up. "You'll want to talk to our people, then? Find recruits and... witnesses? Survivors?"

 

[Vouvry]

Objective C: Fixnig up the Spaceport
Tag: Ned Rhosen

The cheesy smile soon turned into a laughter of his own. The stranger was laughing so how could he not join in? Happy that he had managed to either make a bad enough joke to spread some joy or having met someone generous to laugh at something like that, Vouvry let out a joyous "It is a pleasure to meet you, Ned" Well aware of how cranky some droids could get, the young Mirialan quickly looked down at the machine after a short pause "And a pleasure to meet you too" he said, hoping to avoid its wrath if it was so inclined.

Listening to the man explain his troubles with their task, Vouvry quickly concluded that he would probably have to get his gardening tips from someone else. But if they did find something salvageable, Ned would probably be a great source of knowledge. "Maybe fire" he said, sharing the one suggestion he could think of for the moment. It seemed like the idea wouldn't be given much thought for the moment as his new companion continued quickly in order to inquire about his affiliations. Not being able to utter much more than a mere "T", Vouvry waited as Ned kept speaking at a high pace. Once the human finished, the Mirialan quickly spoke up, not wanting to let the guy have another go at it. "You are right! Undergrounder here. How could you tell? You don't expect to recognise every single person from your fleet, do you?"

Slowly starting to walk down the corridor they found themselves in, Vouvry added "It was not a short trip! Don't get me wrong, I like ships well enough, but spend too much time out there and I just want something solid under my feet again, you know?" Not having any idea of who his temporary companion was, Vouvry didn't assume anything too outlandish. While the guy did admittedly belong to the Flotilla, even they had to miss solid ground and wildlife after a while in space - or at least so he thought.

Coming to a rather abrupt halt, the young Mirialan eyed a closed door to the side with his gaze going from the moss covered labeling plate above it to the panel at its side "That looks like a turbolift, doesn't it?" he asked, seeing it as a potentially welcome change compared to the overgrown facilities, canteens and lavatories they had come across so far.

 

[Ned Rhosen]

Objective C: Fixing up the Spaceport

Ned shrugged his shoulders as Vouvry suggested fire as a way of dealing with the vegetation, "maybe, I'm not a big fan of fire though" he shuddered a little remembering the fire on the Tears of Taloraan, it seemed so long ago but it wasn't a memory that would fade quickly.

The engineer was stumped in his reply to Vouvry, "I er... I don't know honestly, I just felt like you were underground, lucky guess I suppose?" he smiled at his companion as they began moving down the corridor once again, he listened as the Mirialan spoke about his journey here, Ned smiled as he mentioned wanting solid ground under his feet, it was a complaint he had heard many times before, it was not one he'd ever had himself, "I don't if I'm honest" he replied, pausing for a little laugh, "I've always lived on a ship, I was born on one in fact, I'm probably one of the few people in the universe who finds it weirder being on solid ground!"

As they moved further on Vouvry came to a halt, pointing out the potential turbolift, Ned shot a glance that way before nodding and replying to him, "it definitely looks like one, where it goes though is anyones guess" he walked over to the door, examining the control panel to the side of it, after a few button presses Ned popped the cover off playing around with the insides of the console, after removing a few intruding mini-vines and whatever else the engineer had done he turned to Vouvry, "This I can fix, well temporarily, although I still have no idea where it goes, should we leave it or go for it?"

Vouvry

 

[Veino Garn]

Rance Draysom

Veino leaned back in the chair and crossed his arms, listening. He hadn't needed to use his empathic abilities much lately, but here he let his guard down some, picking up the feelings and worse of the man across from. The marshal seemed to feel weary, exhausted, cynical, and overwhelmed. Veino didn't blame him. It was a hard job he was undertaking and he didn't envy him.

It was an advantage of Nomad cell that most of the rest didn't have. They were meant to be mobile, the first ones into an occupied planet, and the ones establishing new cell networks and training people. But it wasn't really their role to fight the day to day battles of liberating a homeworld. They'd done it, of course. He and the other most experienced members had, at least. It was on the local leaders that the burden of leadership fell hardest on.

"Birgis will work fine," Veino agreed, "And even once you move, when we have a supply route established to here, moving along the border isn't a problem. We'll see what we can get on those parts for the ships as well. Have a friend who helps manage a junkyard and knows most of the ships and what can go with what. I'll take the inventory to them and see what we can scrounge up."

He drained the glass and set it down beside him. "A million refugees." He shook his head. "Not seen numbers that big since I was at both falls of Coruscant. I'll see if any bulk freighter captains owe us favors and see if we can get a route for them going up along the border. They're too big to sneak through the blockades."

At the question of him wanting to interview survivors, he shook his head. "No. That's a decision they have to make. It could make them targets. Just spread the word. I'll make sure some of our intel and communications people are on the first shipment and they'll come embed themselves. If anyone wants, they'll do the interviews and put it on the holonet. Otherwise, they'll do their best to keep you alive and away from any hostile fleets or cartels."

 

[Vouvry]

Objective C

"Maybe. But then, you did have a fifty-fifty shot at getting it right" he replied, sending his travelling mate a friendly smirk before moving on, both further down the corridor and in the conversation.

It was not often that he met anyone who wanted to spend a week trapped on a ship, much less someone who preferred being onboard a ship to being off of one. Letting out a quiet "oh," Vouvry's eyes fell down onto his feet as he considered what Ned just said, soon followed by a "Really?" after having tried to confirm with himself if he had heard the other correctly both one and two times. Soon looking back up to the engineer, Vouvry put extra emphasis on 'er' as he continued "You find it wierder on solid ground?" With a playful look, he went on "What's weird about staying up in space on a ship then?" Knowing that he would be hard pressed to list something weird about standing on the soil of a planet, the Mirialan was qurious to see what Ned would think was weird about staying on a ship.

Vouvry did not intend to help with the electronics. Not because he didn't want to, but rather because he lacked the knowledge required to do whatever it was that Ned was doing. Still, he didn't stray far and made sure to look whenever an opportunity to learn something seemed to arise. Taking a deep breath, the young Mirialan looked down the path ahead of them "Looks like we'll be seeing very much of the same if we keep going" he said, nodding to the corridor. "Let's go up instead" With that, Vouvry drew his vibroknife and cut away some vegetation which blocked the door before looking back at Ned again "Or down, I suppose that's also an option"

Setting down the toolkit, freeing both hands, he bent down and snapped it open "So, if you need anything, just let me know" His voice was light as he considered his options. Finally, Vouvry admitted what might already have become obvious "I don't really know advanced engineering stuff, so I'll just lend you a hand whenever you need one." Feeling a sense of relief after having made his lack of skills in the most relevant department for the day, the Mirialan crossed his arms and leaned in on the door frame on the opposite side of the panel Ned was working on.

Ned Rhosen

 

[Eris Volcata]

Objective A: The Meeting | Tag: Veino Garn & Rance Draysom

Throughout the discussion, Eris Volcata had remained silent and still, happy to blend into the background. She had accompanied Rance Draysom , partially as back-up, partially as moral support, and partially as a safety net. The young man was ambitious and talented, there was no denying it, and he had impressed her in their interactions to date. She felt confident that he would be successful in this endeavor as well, but had agreed to accompany him -- "something to get me out of the Capricious," she had joked -- so that if he felt he needed to call on her experience and age (which she felt people might mistake for gravitas) he could.

As far as she could tell, Rance was acquitting himself admirably. But something gnawed at her gut, some doubt that tugged at her mind. It made her uncomfortable. To call Eris suspicious of the motivations of this Underground would have been an understatement in the extreme. Their offer was generous -- too generous to be credible, in Eris' view. There was an angle being played here -- and it might not be that that the Underground's representative was being duplicitous. She had led rebellions in her time, and she knew all too well that alliances could be fractious. It always started as a mutual interest, a shared enemy, a willingness to work together, support one another. Optimism. Smiles all 'round.

Sometimes it all came off well. It was rare. Mostly, at the best of times, it ended in political fallout and hurt feelings.

At the worst of times, it ended with a body count.

But General Volcata said nothing. She had a feeling about this meeting, and about these people. Prudence told her that she wouldn't trust them whole-heartedly yet. But intuition told her that she should see where this was going. If they could avoid another crisis like the riots, then a little risk would be worth it, she thought. She glanced over at Rance, caught his eye. She said nothing, but her lips twitched upwards in a smile and she lofted her eyebrows encouragingly. They had spent enough time together that the message was clear: Why not give it a shot?

 

[Rance Draysom]

Objective A: The Meeting | Tag: Veino Garn , Eris Volcata

Rance glanced back at Eris, glad of her presence, and caught her subtle gesture of encouragement. He was glad she was there, glad she was with the Flotilla all around. He'd been doing this, taking the responsibility of all these lives on his shoulders, for only about a month, and he was nearly broken. But she'd been doing this for decades, bearing that weight for resistance movements across the galaxy. He treasured her support and trusted her judgement, especially when it came to groups like this. She knew them far better than he did.

Honestly, it all seemed too good to be true, but maybe this was really happening. If the Underground could really provide everything it said, it might save the Flotilla, prevent a reoccurrence of the food riots that still haunted Rance's nightmares. It'd be doable to set up supply lines from Birgis to wherever the fleet drifted; they were slow-going, and wouldn't be far from the planet for a long time yet. And with the Sith busy in the west, it was unlikely that they'd be expanding their eastern frontier to occupy the worthless little planet anytime soon.

The idea of embedding Underground agents - "communications" was a nice euphemism for propaganda people, Rance reflected dryly - made him nervous. The Flotilla lived at the suffrage of the Empire; all it would take would be one war fleet to wipe them out. But they were going to fall apart on their own without supplies, so the risk was a calculated one. He would just have to hope that, when Sith Intelligence inevitably saw the heartstring-tearing holovids of refugees from their tyranny, it took a while to figure out where the vids were recorded.

Both falls of Coruscant. Rance looked at Veino with fresh eyes; here was a man who had really, really seen some druk. On a planet that was once home to a trillion people, how could any decent number of refugees possibly escape? He doubted there were enough ships in the entire Core Worlds region to evacuate them all. His people came in little dribs and drabs, individual families or clans who had managed to flee one planet or another. There had been no mass evacuation, just handfuls who'd gotten lucky among the multitudes who hadn't.

"I don't know if your intel is different," Rance finally said, "but last I heard, there's no way around the border anymore. The Sith have cut off every northern route, and down in the south those monsters from who knows where have claimed territory right up to the edge of Sith space. We haven't been able to find any way to move ships toward the Core without crossing someone hostile's territory." He looked at Veino with a strained smile. "They'll spot us if we try to use bulk freighters for that. We're stuck out here."

 

[Kahlil Noble]

Objective A: The Meeting Rance Draysom Eris Volcata Veino Garn

This was a bad idea.

Kahlil knew it the moment he stepped on the Flotilla. He'd draw eyes if they knew who he was. The Epicanthix had faded to some obscurity at least in the past years. He could move near Sith Space without being recognized so long as he kept his hood up. But now? Oh he was about to throw all that away. On a chance no less. Well, it wouldn't be the first time.

He steps into the meeting room and sticks to the back, just listening to what was being said. His father really had reached farther then he expected. Well, that's just what would happen when there was no one to stand against him. Was this meeting going to change that? He certainly hoped so.