Dominion The Velusian Solution | GA Dominion of Velusia

[Spirit of Wisdom]

“Already, we have proven our resolve. It is this innate desire to persevere that has lead us here, together. This is our greatest strength; for no matter how many times we are beaten, broken or forced to obey, the Core always stands back up!”​

-Chancellor Emmen Tagge​

In their continued bid to reclaim control of the Core, the Galactic Alliance set their sights on the crime-plagued planet of Ord Antalaha. Determined to bring order to the criminal gangs that dominated the cities and negotiate the planet’s assimilation with the local fiefdoms, the Alliance dispatched the G.S.S. Ananke with a contingent of soldiers, Jedi, and diplomats to further their agenda.​

Everything was going according to plan when the ship was suddenly pulled out of hyperspace over Velusia, an ocean planet that had long been thought abandoned by their native species. Taken by surprise, an ambush fleet of unknown stealth fighters managed to disable the engines and send the ship careening toward the planet’s surface. Through the skillful maneuvers of the Ananke’s crew, the ship found itself perched on a massive reef in the middle of the ocean.​

To the surprise of everyone on board, the ship received a local transmission from the Velusian people beseeching the Alliance for help. For years the planet has been plagued with the presence of a somewhat dubious foodstuff canning company specializing in a fishy paste called Oceanus Inc. They claim that the land-dwelling Aquar tribes were granted dominion of the planet by the then leader of the old Empire, Mas Ameda when he came to the planet to surrender to the newly formed Republic. They claimed it was repayment for the abuse they faced by another company that took advantage of their natural resources. Centuries later, Oceanus Inc claims the Aquar sold the planet’s fishing rights and they have been operating their canning factories there ever since. Despite claims of pollution and ecological abuse, the Oceanus Inc executives highlight their treatment of the Aquar (though none have yet been seen) and Velusian people, giving them paying jobs in the factories and allowing them a percent of the food produced. Still, something does not add up.​

With interplanetary communication jammed, the crew of GSS Ananke must work together to find a solution.​

Objective I: Call of the Sea
​

Oceanus Inc claims that their fishy food paste, Chartunna, consists of only the freshest non-sentient aquatic inhabitants of Velusia. Even most of the Velusians consume the nutrient-rich paste, but the Velusian Queen is not convinced. Recently, local chieftains across the planet had reported Velusian workers disappearing during their shift and entire villages of Velusians have been found abandoned. Fearing the unthinkable, she beseeches the Jedi aboard the Ananke to investigate the canneries to ascertain the truth and do whatever necessary to stop it. Oceanus has enlisted the help of several aquatic beings to help run these factories, as the Jedi investigate they are sure to encounter fierce resistance.​

​

Objective II: You Got a Permit?​

​

The politicians aboard the ship know that unless they can find some legal proof that no such deal was ever made with the Aquar or Oceanus Inc then the corporation is legally within their rights to harvest its sea life. Unfortunately, the only place on the ship with that sort of information is the record room which is heavily damaged and slowly taking on water (among other things.) As a team, the Alliance diplomats and crew members must navigate the treacherous sectors of the ship to search for proof and come up with a plan to legally force Oceanus Inc off the planet.​

Objective III: Better Down Where It's Wetter​

If the accusations made by the Velusian’s are true, the Ananke’s only hope will be to send a message to a nearby Alliance Fleet for assistance. Unfortunately, Oceanus Executives have claimed their jammers are malfunctioning and it may take them days to disable them manually. The Velusian Queen has a better idea. GADF soldiers in retrofitted aquatic hazard gear must travel to Oceanus Inc’s underwater communications relay and disable the jammer themselves. The soldiers should be wary of armed resistance as Oceanus has no intention of letting the Alliance transmit a message before they have all of their pieces in place.​

BYOO​

While the rest of the Alliance is scrambling around to restore order to Velusia, your clever eye might see something they missed. The complete absence of the Aquar tribes on Velusia has raised suspicion among the Alliance crew and the Velusians. Yet more questions surround the mysterious Oceanus Inc and the shadowy executives overseeing the Velusian operation. The beaches are also lovely this time of year.​

The possibilities, like the sea, are endless.​

​

Spoiler: tag list

Tempest Yore
Corala Gethsverg
Adhira Chandra
Din Marren
Elayne Daklana
Westenra Mina
Lon Vondon
Rik Perris
Ordon Trozky
Faith Organa
Ava Cartwright-Pryce
Cambria Zadira
Constantine Oliva
Leon Gallo
Zahara Myneto
Kathryn Foster
Nathaniel Raxis
Corala Gethsverg
Adhira Chandra
Fable Solborne
Emmen Tagge
Elayne Daklana
Westenra Mina
Ordon Trozky
Faith Organa
Tempest Yore
Alana Sunrider
Westenra Mina
Lon Vondon
Rik Perris
Jannik Morlandt
Cambria Zadira
Leon Gallo
Kathryn Foster
Nathaniel Raxis

​

​

 

[Zef Halo]

OBJ I
GONE FISHING

Cannery

Crony Capitalism. Smuggler's Heaven.

Velusia was a jackpot. Smuggle in steel for the makings of the cans, customs turn an easy blind eye and you gamble your cash on sabacc games waiting for the next order.

The latter phase of this operation was what Zef Halo, grumpy ol' scoundrel, was currently doing.

"Deal."

Him and a few of these aquatic aliens had been sitting on makeshift chairs and a table for so long that the old man (who ought to retire at this point) was no longer feelings his legs; lucky streak too good to stand up from. These ugly karkers were amateurs.

Easy fish.

They'd choke on any bluff he made or go the other extremity - bluff like idiots.

Today was a good day until the Jedi Regulators showed up sniffing fething his bliss once again. As always.

 

[Arash Garshasp]

Arash Garshasp, Stellar Legionnaire
Location: Velusia, Crash Site
Objective Three: Better Down Where It's Wetter

Spoiler: Equipment

VDS-02 “Bulwark” - Pattern Military Mobility Shield
VCS-01 “Aspis” Pattern Combat Shield
VW-03 Mk II “Apollo” - Pattern Solarized Disruptor Pistol
TTH/TPV-001 “Xiphos” - Pattern Plasmatic Vibrosword
VCP-01 "Hoplon" - Pattern Combat Powersuit

Surya will never let me leave the Medbay. . . or rather, she’ll never let me leave home. . .

The fear of his family sparked Arash back to full consciousness as he silently groaned from the sudden crash landing. Well, it was not sudden, the vessel itself took some time to crash land, and yet even with such time given to prepare Arash wondered if he should have just perhaps taken the chance to jump into a transport ship and risked it against the unknown assailants. With a single kick up, Arash found himself standing upright and his body felt somewhat okay.

When he had taken this job, he hadn’t assumed the galaxy wished him dead so soon, Arash had figured it was going to be a rather easy escort job and fighting the occasional street thug or maneuvering through a gang war or two. With another soft exasperation at the situation, Arash moved along the tilted hallway to find either an emergency exit or maybe the rest of the command staff of the ship had organized themselves properly.

Hours later, Arash stood content enough outside of the crashed starship,several of the levels in the starship had begun to take in heavy amounts of water. Arash gave the ship perhaps twenty hours before it completely sank to the bottom of the planet’s sea. Though some interesting new developments had happened, the planet they had crashed landed on was called Velusia and the people of Velusia told a rather fascinating tale.

The young Thyrsian listened rather lazily but his interest picked up when they discussed jammers and a mission to secure and disable said jammers. This was something Arash was geared towards and currently he had very little to do with the rest of the operations, he was no Jedi nor investigator, as well as no researcher or tech guru. But I am a good, if not great swimmer. Arash figured the best use of his skills would be to head down to the ocean floor to reach where the Jammers were located and to disable them by any means necessary.

He smiled wickedly. Who knew he would end up on vacation.

Arash quickly prepared his own equipment and figured his own armour would be suited for this type of environment, but perhaps he could rig an extra source of oxygen for himself.

 

[Van Hill]

Obj I - Investigate These Fishy Shenanigans
Tags - Open
Equipment - The BEST Swimsuit Money Can Buy
​

The Muun executive had realized early is his career that in order to get things done, he needed to do them himself. And so, he traveled to the oceany world to convince the so-called Oceanus Incorporated to join the Techno Union, thus truly being able to tell his family he hand in all business ventures across the galaxy.

To his shock, he was approached by the Queen before he could even reach the company and told of some horrible deed that might have been committed by the company he held in such high respect. How did he reply?

"The Techno Union will sign your treaty, Queen"

And off he went, deep into the oceany blue accompanied by Jedi. Oh how he yearned to learn not to interfere with business the did not know. "It's too wet down here" ​

 

[Jasol Dorsian]

Location: Velusia - The Beach
Objective: Relax
Tags: Open

​

While other senators had used the market on Chandrilla as time to relax and socialise, wandering around from dirty stalls to dirty stall and drinking an assortment of unknown drinks was not Jasol’s idea of relaxing. Jumping to the present Jasol sat on a sun bed under an umbrella on the breezy beaches of Velusia with all the comforts he needed. This was his idea of relaxing.

Jasol was still an admiral in the Sanjini Defence Fleet and this was entitled to military leave and so he decided a relaxing weekend by the beach was the best way to spend it. Clad in a thin white button up, a pair of blue swim shorts and his best pair of Birkenstock’s one might mistake him for a retiree enjoying his life on the beach if not for his bodyguard CPL Tisic, a Sanjini Marine who was on a sun bed a few meters behind Jasol.

The governor admiral looked behind and saw the CPL unarmoured and his shirt unbuttoned, chatting up a Velusian who seemed to like him. Jasol called him over and as soon as he arrived he dropped a few credits in his hand. “Don’t spend it all at once Corporal.” Tisic looked up with a grin on his face. “I’ll try not to sir. Thank you sir” He said before returning to the girl and the two disappeared, likely to some bar or club.

While Tisic disappeared off with his latest love interest Jasol grabbed his datapad and opened a holobook. He had been reading a book adaption from his mothers favourite holomovie, The Guns of Kelrodo-Ai, the story of famed Imperial pilot Shea Hublin and the Battle of Kelrodo-Ai. After months of pushing through policy after policy, of the endless trips to senate hearings and running both a planet and a military Jasol needed this. Actually he needed this and a Corellian brandy which he wasted no time in ordering.

 

[Zef Halo]

OBJ I
GONE FISHING

"Deal. Twenty-six. KARK!"

"You on a bomb out streak, Sonny."

"Kark you!"

"Whoa, hold your tempers, fish faces. If ya can't play - stand up and leave." Zef ordered the two natives. They simmered and sat back down. "Deal. Fifteen."

"Stand."

"Stand."

"Deal. Twenty one."

"Deal. Twenty." Zef said and took a deep breath.

"Stand." a caviar-eating grin on fish face three. No way the smuggler could beat that.

The smuggler smirked. Fish face drew a long face.

"Deal." Zef called. "...Twenty two."

"KARK!"

The ol' smuggler collected the pot. This would cover the cigarettes.

He lit one in victory.

 

[Gala Geert]

Objective III: Better Down Where It's Wetter // Velusia // I'm on a boat --> Not on a boat
Din Marren // Trevin Neros // O P E N
WATER
​

​

"This is as far as I can take you." The velusian captain commented, releasing his grip on the throttle of their little water shuttle. "Below us should be the last logged coordinates of the communications centre."

The waveskimmer drew to a pause on the choppy waters, idling while those in its hull got sorted. The choppiness around them slapped against the sides of the watercraft, keeping them gently rocking with the lively waters below.

Gala said nothing to the captain, struggling instead with breathing apparatus. An irritated expression knitted across her features and she wedged a fingernail into one of the apparatus' prongs. To her disgust, the tip of her finger caught some disruption and she flicked it out and to the floor. Mumbling something about sanitation, she tucked her green braid into the skintight bonnet of her wetsuit. The underlayer of the collection of modified ranger gear they'd been provided -- suitable for aquatic adventures.

"Alright, what're we at here.." She murmured, more to herself than anyone else while rotating the air tank to see it's fullness. The numbers hadn't changed since they'd left the shore. Once she was sure there were no further blockages to the tech that would help her breathe, she was ready to go and hoisted it back over her shoulder, feeling it connect to the accepting snaps of her suit.

"Let's get this over with." The contractor commando suggested, just before pulling the diver's helmet over her head. Umbilicals stretched from the chin and over her shoulders to the air tank. With a definitive backward thrust, she rocked over the side of the boat, head, and shoulders first into the waters below.

 

[Maijan Paisea]

Objective I - Gone Fishing // Velusia // Cantina - HOOK
Zef Halo
Reel it In​

The beach would be later. The sand between her toes could wait -- the pirate much preferred flexing on the unsuspecting.

Around everywhere but the card table, conversation was a steady babble of human and alien tongues, all of it indistinguishable. Through the sea of bodies, there was a small knot of rough-looking amphibious aliens lounging, drinking and trading stories of dubious origin over hands of cards.

From her seat, Maijan kept her eyes low, but her smirk curled on high. Every so often she'd incline her head with feigned interest toward the goings-on in the game, and her golden flesh would glint in the light. Otherwise, she faded amid the players and observers; flitting about as she pleased. Nobody seemed to mind, nor notice her. The cards in their hands were the only thing that was real to them.

Shame, that.

The other bar's foreigner looked delighted in his hand, and she knew why. The numbers he was seeing in his hand were a glorious sight for anyone sober or otherwise. Perhaps if he were a little less inebriated he'd be more privy to the undulations around the corners of the cards whenever he shuffled.

A brow arched in his direction, and dark lips parted to coo toward the nerf herder: "Hmm, you should bet bigger."

 

[Din Marren]

Velusia // Oceanus Inc. Comms Relay Station
Objective: III - Better Down Where It's Wetter
Equipment: See bio. (Assets)
Tags: Gala Geert Trevin Neros Arash Garshasp

Equipped with a SCUBA variant of the Defense Force's advanced commando armour, Din looks over his oxygen canister one last time as the skimmer drifts to a stop on the open waves. From up here there was no indication of a structure at all, but the Caridan felt confident that their intel was reliable. Deep below, they'd surely find the jammed communications relay.

<"Thanks for the assist,"> Din's modulated voice projects from the sealed helmet's annunciator. He looks out across the horizon; there was no land in sight at all. For some reason, that thought made him a bit uneasy. Ironically, he spent of his time on starships drifting through a sea of void, yet somehow this felt more alien to him.

Glancing to the others at his side and giving a thumbs up, he switches his oxygen from the suits external intake to its O2 canisters and mirrors Gala's movements. He collapses back into the water, sinking for a few meters before spreading his arms and legs and activating the modified armour's propulsion jets.

<<Keep your eyes on your scanners,>> he says, looking down into the shadowy depths, <<Who knows what might be out here with us.>>

 

[Wynter Rackham]

Objective I -
Gone Fishing // Velusia // Cantina - HOOK

Zef Halo | Maijan Paisea

THEME 2​

On the other side of one Zef Halo a second figure settled.

His own eyes casting across the cards.

A low whistle there. "Wowza, boss, ya be a lucky tanker, aren't ya?" He drawled lazily, while taking a sip from his drink. Honestly Wynter wasn't sure why they were helping this cantina to rob Zef.... rather than... maybe... rob someone themselves. It seemed a bit unprofitable. But Paisea wanted to have some fun and Wynter had a drink.

So why not?

"But maybe not overplay yar luck. I am sure ya don't wanna lose your entire retirement check in one go, eh?" While Maijan was playing it from one side, he goaded him instead.

Playing on his pride.

"Maybe a bingo table would be a bit more safe, rather than taking these huge bets..."

A smirk there.

 

[Gala Geert]

Objective III // Velusia // Underwater
Din Marren // Trevin Neros // O P E N
BREATHING UNDERWATER
​

​

<You got it.> Gala agreed, surprised at how familiar it was to speak beneath the helmet. There was a little more echo than usual, but largely the same as shouting over a wartorn battlefield in a regular suit. <You ever fired one of these underwater before, Dare?>

With a powerful kick of her legs, she throttled forward. Ungraceful at first, before she righted in her trajectory and let the repulsors affixed to her back take over most of the momentum-driving. There was little current beyond the first 6-feet, much to the Mirialan's relief. The pressure from the blue made it difficult to keep forward-moving.

The coordinates had been patched into their shared readouts prior to delving into the deep, and the number of feet remaining until their destination decreased the longer they cut through the shadows.

<Uh oh.> A distant blip popped up on her overlay, and she squinted at it. No shape was taken to it. <I've picked something up. Let's tighten formation, we're out of our element here.>

 

[Zef Halo]

Two figures materialized beside the ol' smuggler and spoke in perfectly scripted lines. Forty years ago he'd be fooled, probably, but age while it had its drawbacks also had its benefits. Sniffing cons was not a hobby, it was a life saving skill. He'd been in this 'industry' for all of his life and most importantly he had been friends with the greatest con artist the galaxy had known - Daro Tarsi.

Now these two young amateurs, Bonnie and Clyde-wannabes, were an open book to him. Ripped off people in the night, tumbled together in bed cackling at their little theatrics they pulled the night before, slept the day under shuttered windows of either an apartment or a freighter's compartment, took a shower together and the cycle repeats.

How many of these young, smut-stricken dreamers had ended up trying to deceive the wrong man only to bid farewell to a short life with a kiss to the bullet. Sure, he'd never approved of that extremities undertaken by wild animals with a trigger happy finger but life wasn't fair.

Zef covered his cards down, slowly turned to face both with bones creaking (it was the chair, trust me), then, "Y'all kids - scram. Find someone else to rip off." he turned back to his cards, grumbled a thousand and one old man's curses and checked his cards.

W H O A.

A moment later he had completely forgotten their existence. His poker face nearly breaking at the sight of the Idiot's Array in his first (magical) hand.

Slowly, but surely he bet a real estate on Corellia that he did not own.

Maijan Paisea Wynter Rackham

ooc//

u decide the outcome. ok. ty.

 

[Amea Virou]

B Y O O
G O D D A M N I T
Yula Perl

Some people you just couldn’t forget. Some for the wrong reasons and some for all the right ones. As Amea had been wrapping her day up roughly four days ago she had found a new message on her terminal addressed to ‘Stacy.’ While confused at first, the confusion quickly faded into something short of panic as Amea found herself in a situation where she had to write a message back to none other than the one and only Yula Perl.

This was the woman that she had thought to have forgotten about Amea, the one that by all accounts most likely knew the effect she had on the poor woman, and a woman that as a result Amea simply couldn’t say no to. Many replies had been drafted, and just as many had been discarded. It couldn’t be too forward or professional, yet it couldn’t be too cold or straightforward either. They were spacer trash after all, nobody respected a suit with suit-like suit speech. Suits did not suit Amea in the slightest. Suits. Not even once. Unless, of course, suits on— no, she was getting distracted.

With her mind as far out of the game as she possibly could be, Amea re-read her latest draft before she quickly shook her head. The timer before she had to respond was closing. She needed something good and this was not it. The message that had resided upon her had landed somewhere in between bad and outrageously so. It was too much. Her thumb repeatedly pressed against the button to remove parts of the message.

Or it did. At first. Until what should have never happened, happened.

Amea froze up in sheer horror as the tapping sound of her holographic keyboard suddenly seemed to sound a lot like the very same sound that played when she sent a message. And that was because it was exactly what had just happened. Her nose burst with air as she struggled to keep the panic from spilling over, her breaths heavier than ever as she practically hyperventilated herself into a sense of comfort.

Anything for you, Yula.

I will be on Velusia for a few more days, but I can always stay for longer if you want to catch up? Besides, I am pretty certain you still owe me that drink since Bespin.

I mean if you

And that was where the message ended. Amea had gotten her reply back and it had done very little to help cool her down any. The last few days had been a nightmare and the time for them to meet was quickly approaching. It was just a quick meeting for maybe the one drink and some good pointers on who to contact in regards to work for the Galactic Alliance. How hard could it be to act like a normal humanbeing for that short of a time, right?

Right.

Amea sat by the bar and scratched at the bartop with her index finger. At first just a few lines before it turned into circles, and then squares and triangles. And then she was right back to just lines once more. Though she was on the beach she had really not dressed for it. Light, but certainly not as light as those around her. Stood out like a sore thumb she did, and she probably looked dumb too. That’s what she told herself.

Eyes darted around the area to try and make sense of what direction the Zeltron woman would be coming from. God, this must have been a nightmare. Was this a nightmare? It felt like it could have been a nightmare.

 

[Yula Perl]

BYOO: O H Y E S
Amea Virou

Anything for you, Yula.​

That was all she’d needed to hear, really. Things in the Outer Rim had settled down, and although Yula had settled herself onto Terminus for the time being, wanderlust had set in again. The exploration bug had bitten her at a young age, ever since she’d snuck her way onto Zef Halo 's ship at eight years old. It had been nearly a full day before her mother had contacted him frantically, and Zef had discovered his granddaughter wedged between crates of who knows what illicit dealings.

He'd scolded her, then he’d been scolded by her mother all the way back to Zeltros and then some. After which Yula had grounded thoroughly for what felt like an eternity of babysitting duties.

The Outer Planet’s Alliance was a combination of rough exploration and familiar enough faces. She’d spent much of her teenage years engaged in the excitement of these wild territories, helping to fend off pirates, slavers, and imperials alike among the hodgepodge of weirdos that had banded together to protect the independence of the Outer Rim. But with the First Order’s departure from the galactic stage and the Sith’s attention elsewhere, the daily prattle of her machine shop no longer satisfied her. She needed to dip her toes into something else, which lead her back towards the core worlds.

Which was why she’d reached out to Stacy, bounding up to the young dark-haired woman in naught but a bikini and sheer imitation-shimmersilk cardigan. “Stace! It’s been too long. Thanks for inviting to Velusia—can you believe I’ve never been? The beach is gorgeous.” Bubblier than usual, the Zeltron was overtaken with the excitement at seeing an old friend—even if their meetings before now had been fleeting—and threw her arms around the anxious girl for a squeeze.

“How’ve you been? Oh—” Pulling away, she wasted no time in looking the other woman up and down. “Did you forget your swimsuit? I have an extra you can borrow—it must be terribly hot in those.”

A practiced empath, she could read the anxiety in Amea’s essence. But that wasn’t enough to stop her from being overbearing, at least at first.

 

[Amea Virou]

Yula Perl
Objective: D O N O T D I E

It was strange, Yula should have been here by now. Amea’s eyes kept scanning the area in front of her with a continued nervous fidget at the bartop. Yet, it would seem that spatial awareness had gone right out the window, as from behind her back the all too familiar voice and name called out for Stace. Amea twitched and turned with a twist so fast it might have snapped her neck. Though a clear doe in headlights at first it quickly mellowed out into a queasy smile as the Zeltron approached her.

“O-oh!” She exclaimed in surprise. “Hi!”

And then, there was the hug. Amea’s entire body froze in horror, her brain trying to figure out an appropriate response before she ever so slowly raised her hands behind the Zeltron’s upper back and tried her hardest not to think too much about who she was hugging. They separated, so it would seem Amea had done a good enough job at appearing cool enough, right?

… Right?!

“I am not much of a beach person, usually.” Amea murmured before her voice raise inexplicably in a hurried correction. “Exc— Except when I am, o-of— of course. I— enjoy warm, beach. Hot, clothes. Not these. That—” Her face seemed to be set on fire. A nervous hand rubbed against her neck as she took in the shape of the Zeltron before her. It didn’t help any. “I— You look great.”

Crap, not that! Amea took a deep breath to regain her focus.

“I… Should have one, back in my room. I’m just not very good at taking breaks, I suppose.”

Well, it was more of a wetsuit for jobs that required a more aquatic approach, but those were rare. Amea put her drink to her lips and took a chug. Not a sip, a chug. Hopefully it would make the tension go away.

 

[Arash Garshasp]

Arash Garshasp, Stellar Centurion
Location: Velusia, Crash Site
Objective Three: Better Down Where It's Wetter

Spoiler: Equipment

VDS-02 “Bulwark” - Pattern Military Mobility Shield
VCS-01 “Aspis” Pattern Combat Shield
VW-03 Mk II “Apollo” - Pattern Solarized Disruptor Pistol
TTH/TPV-001 “Xiphos” - Pattern Plasmatic Vibrosword
VCP-01 "Hoplon" - Pattern Combat Powersuit

There were others joining in on the fun, Arash had always been of the mindset ‘The More the Merrier’, and he figured the extra fire support would be much appreciated. He eyed the water surface for a moment longer before dropping into the ocean deep. His body quickly submerged thanks to the weight of his armour and Arash was ever thankful for the little turbine device to allow him much faster swim speed as he moved through the expansive darkening blue water.

The installation of the Communication Jammers were not too far for them to swim towards, but the real issue was always the lack of proper reconnaissance to allow them to formulate a proper plane. Sadly of course their plan of attack seems to be simply: attack, while not a terrible strategy to the young Thyrsian warrior, it wasn’t without drawbacks. He counted on the scanners of his suit to provide him with enemy locations, but that was for when they were already engaged in combat.

Arash clicked his tongue against his cheek as he chose his next action carefully. He hadn’t taken into consideration fighting beneath the sea, Arash figured his own weaponry wouldn’t be of much effective use. Best to remain with the others. He quickly swam closer to the rest of the group swimming towards the installation.

Whatever was out there, better to face it with numbers. "Copy, tracking new movement."

Despite his disadvantage beneath the sea, so far from the sun, Arash felt himself excited to fight despite it all.

Din Marren | Gala Geert

 

[Tris]

Objective I: Call of the Sea
Several Hours Ago
Tags: Ryv @Jedi
​

The Coub and her crew of two had flown into Velusia for the first totally legal, non-smuggler gigs Do had gotten in a long while. While it was supposed to be discrete, it wasn't anything crazy illegal, she hoped. Just moving some off-planet fish and seafood for Oceanus Inc. The packaging claimed it was all locally sourced seafood that went into their pastes, both standard and high-end, but that couldn't ever truly be the case. It was always cheaper to go non-domestic with this kind of product and with both of the native species being on the planet it would only be a matter of time before they ran out of seafood to collect. It just wasn't a sustainable practice. Maybe that was why she was here to begin with. These thoughts and a dozen others flashed through her head as the lift lowered her ship into the dark blue depths of the water world when GeeGee started squeaking and beeping.

"What? What is it? I sealed everything already. Don't worry we'll-" she let her voice trail off as her ship's proximity alarms started blaring. "What the-" A great wave covered her ship and the platform as a chunk of something fell into the ocean next to her, superheating the water and causing her ship's heat sensors to start blaring as well. "Karking Hell!" She looked up and her eyes widened as the huge vessel fell in to the atmosphere and careened into the ocean, its burning wreck dislodging chunks of durasteel and armor plating into the ocean. She grabbed her com link and furiously pressed the button.

"You need to lower me now! The ship! Tsunami! Force help me if my ship gets sunk I will swim down there and turn you into whatever paste you're feeding these people!" The threat was empty. It wasn't like she was some super notorious mercenary or Dark Lord of the Sith, but her voice seemed harsh enough that the lift operators quickly began lowering her platform. Just as the shadow of the tsunami was creeping over her ship, the lift tube's hatch shut closed and her ship was safe, lowering her into the watery depths.

Several Hours later

It was taking too long. She'd been stuck in her ship for hours waiting for someone to come take her cargo, and it was starting to smell. Her power converter was acting up again and there was starting to be the real possibility that her refrigeration units had lost power, which meant she was about to be out a lot of money. She had no doubt it had something to do with that huge ship that had crashed, but this was getting ridiculous.

"GeeGee, watch the ship for me, I'm headed out." The droid tweeted in protest. They were supposed to stay put. "Yeah well, I don't much like the smell of rotting fish and I'm trying to get paid. You want that oil bath don't you?" GeeGee gave a little moan of defeat. "Well then I'm going," she said with finality. She couldn't leave through the main loading ramp. That would be too obvious. Grabbing her pistol and her lightsaber she took the service exit up to the top of her ship which led to the main engine housing and hyperdrive maintenance hatch and popped it open. Cool, salty air hit her. She drank it in, thankful to be free of that rotting fish smell. She'd never get it out of her ship...

Carefully she slid down the side of her freighter, using the Force to lighten her step as she landed. Two guards walked past in the distance holding unfamiliar blasters, probably made for their hands and unique biology. Hidden in the dark she could listen in.

"Yeah, I heard that GA ship is trying to investigate the factory. Sending Jedi."

"Jedi?! What for? We're just a fish packing plant. No biggie here."

"Yeah well you heard the rumors...Nostus said he heard screaming the other night too."

"No way. I wouldn't be here if we was canning the Velusians. I wouldn't touch one of them with a ten foot pole. Primitives."

"You say that, but I saw you in that bar the other night-"

That was enough. She'd gotten close enough to them now to stun them both...Because something wasn't right here. She could feel it in the Force. And if Jedi were involved...Well, SOMEONE was gonna pay for this fish and this trip. She fired, two blue rings of lazy energy spiraled at the pair of guards leaving them slumped on the floor. Taking one of their code cylinders, she hid the bodies in an empty crate and locked it shut, belting the mechanism with her lightsaber.

"Sweet dreams." And she was off...A new mystery to solve and dig her nose into.

 

[Yula Perl]

Yula smiled brightly while patiently waiting for Amea to finish rambling. Instead of addressing it and making the girl feel even more anxious, she latched onto the compliment. “Thanks!” She slipped onto the bar stool next to Amea, legs crossed over eachother.

“Tatooine Sunrise,” The bartender who had drifted over towards the newcomer nodded before setting about mixing the cocktail.

“Whatever you’re comfortable in.” Yula shrugged lightly, adjusting the sheer fabric draped around her shoulders. “And breaks are important. I start to get sloppy if I’m overworked.” Her smile turned a little wry, recalling quite a few accidents in her machine shop that could have been avoided had she paced herself.

The drink arrived and Yula gave the bartender a nod of thanks, taking a cursory sip before turning back to Amea. “So, it’s been a while Stace—I hear you’ve been running some jobs for the Galactic Alliance since we last met.” She absently poked at the ice floating in her drink with the straw, her tone free of any accusing notes. “If that’s what you’re doing—correct me if I’m wrong—how’d you go about getting involved, if you don’t mind my asking?”

Amea Virou

 

[Amea Virou]

Yula Perl

It took a moment to recollect her nerves, the figurative spaghetti, off the ground. Amea let the drink she had put to her lips nudge ever so gently against the bartop as she closed her eyes to let in a deep breath. She shouldn’t have put it to memory, but the words burned up there against her mind: Tatooine Sunrise, as if she would ever get a use out of it after this. The last few times there had always been something that got in the way, whether it be a birdman or a birdman as well as a bunch of other criminals. A cautious glance shot out around the bar to ensure he wasn’t around, and upon finding out he clearly was not, Amea calmed down.

So she had a chance? A chance to not mess this up? Well, she most likely already had, but the chance to actually attempt a conversation and act normal? Right, she could do that. She knew how to deal. One step at a time. Amea had quite literally murdered people with greater ease than she seemed to have with just this one conversation and this one person.

… Maybe that should have worried her.

It didn’t.

“I mean, work keeps my mind off of things. Work is good for it, and when you work ships there is either no downtime whatsoever, or nothing but. It’s a comfortable middle ground.” Amea shrugged, seemingly able to form a coherent sentence from somewhere. Her chest rose and then it sunk again as she continued the trend of simply taking a deep breath to calm down. “I wouldn’t say I’ve worked for them on a freelancing basis, I have a friend in the Alliance apparently.”

Amea’s eyes broke its stare at her beer and over at Yula. Her nerves began to tangle, her anxious smile still lingering on her lips as she watched the woman next to her.

“Though they don’t know me by Stacy.” Amea said and swallowed. “They know me by Amea, because that’s my name. My real name.”

“If you want I can try to get you in touch with a man named Maynard Treicolt, or my friend Loske Mattson. They’re both good people. Used to people like us, I suppose.”

 

[Maijan Paisea]

Objective I - Gone Fishing // Velusia // Cantina - HOOK
Zef Halo // Wynter Rackham ​

Fingers bridged beneath her chin and she leaned forward to the table. The elder was grumpy and only wanted to play his card game, not anything beyond that. Not their game.

A portion of the players around the table were as false as the numbers the showcased on the nerf herder's cards. Their cards were...so-so.

When everyone lay their hands down on the shared cue, they curled the corners up before eventually flipping them over.

Maijan's lower lip jut out in sympathy to the card player they were ganging up on, and scratched idly at her nose while inhaling a sharp breath through her teeth, hissing at the perceivable loss in the middle of the table.

One of the illusions, an amphibious alien, cracked a victorious grin and echoed a belly laugh. He couldn't reach to collect his winnings, given he was only a mental projection, so the marbled hands of the Fallanassi practitioner stretched out on his behalf. Her bracelets clinking with the gesture.

"What happened, mister? You looked so confident."

The triumphant Velusian nodded in agreement. "Go again, man?"

Spoiler

SidekickBOTToday at 1:42 AM
@dad: d20 = (18) = 18