Since the bygone days of the Republic, a victim of its own prosperity.
An industrial revolution of ages past had transformed the once thriving world into a gray skyline of factories and smog. As other worlds discovered technologies to remove pollutants from their manufacturing, on Eriadu the destruction of the environment became the business of waste management. Poison seeped into the soil, the ground water, and the oceans drove entire species to extinction and inflicted disease upon the populace left to eek their lives beneath the grip of corporate tycoons who made their fortunes at the cost of all their futures.
Through the Four Hundred Years of Darkness, these conditions became stagnant, miring the planet it a choking miasma of smog and pollution. Until the wheels of industry began to turn again. This time against the approach of the Omega Protectorate, a struggle which caused the industrialist power structure to falter for a brief period of time. Before the Lords of the Fringe came and brought the chaos of war with them.
The influence of the Protectorate faded, allowing the ever-present shadow of Eriadu's greed to emerge anew. Salvaging the old factories or paving the way for new factories to rise from the wreckage of yesterday. All the while, dumping waste back into the poisoned planet. The grip of industry was bolstered by an influx of funding from the First Order, which brought Eriadu's industry in line with the Dosuun government.
But conflict is never far in the chaos of the galaxy today. Pirates struck. Rogue Sith Lords emerged from out of the endless night. The power of the First Order waned like that of the Omega Protectorate before it, slowly fading like the light of a dying star. And Eriadu, left fallow, steeped in the filth of generations of war, corruption, and greed.
Eriadu's future seemed as bleak as the planet's gray skyline. An industrial wasteland, stripping away the natural resources of the planet and leaving only a broken husk that was quickly becoming a world that would one day no longer be capable of sustaining life.
Unless something changed.
One by one, change started to appear. A light freighter. A frigate. One by one, a motley coalition began to emerge from out of the stars. Except, for the first time in centuries, these ships wanted nothing from Eriadu. They did not come to reap the bounty of its factories. They did not come to exploit the laborers toiling amid the pollution. They did not come to raid the corporate elite of their aurodium or lommite.
No, for the first time in centuries, ships came ferrying aid to Eriadu.
The Jedi had returned.
Edited by Sor-Jan Xantha, 09 April 2019 - 07:49 AM.