Dominion For the Republic (Corellian Confederation Dominion of Kalist)

[Fable Solborne]

Kalist
Central Conference Center
================

The time had finally come. Fable took a deep breath as she smoothed her hair down and double-checked her face in the mirror. After weeks and months of making connections, arranging favors, and building trust among the scattered politicians of the galaxy, she finally had the support and connections together to bring about her dream. No, that wasn't right. More than her dream. The dream of all of them who would gather together and had worked so hard to build. The dream of their ancestors who had first tried such an experiment. Who had died for this dream.

The dream of a Republic.

A democratic society capable of protecting itself and its members from enemies, of promoting justice and equality, and galactic harmony. Fable took a deep breath and strode from the room to where the representatives would meet. Nothing elaborate or fancy, not for this. Functional was the keyword, rather. The Republic of the past had been known for luxury and corruption amongst the Senators and governing body. She allowed herself a brief smile as she surveyed the room. Not something they would become known for, if she could help it, and besides, Kalist lacked the resources for that amount of luxury. They were still a barren desert world whose primary purpose had been a penal colony. Instead, they now had ergonomic chairs and tables with datapad and holodisplays. All barebones and basic.

But it would have to do. She took her seat at the table and connected her datapad to the one at the table. Undoubtedly they would all come together, each with their own proposal and idea. Fable already had hers, based on her study of history and politics that would hopefully limit some of the more egregious mistakes of their predecessor governments. Distribution of power, checks and balances, term limits, lobbying limits. All things designed to limit the influence of greed and corruption. She wanted no such politicians in her government. She wanted hard-working, honest individuals who cared about the right thing and would put the work in to make it happen.

That was what happened when you grew up as a moisture farmer. But in her career, she had learned better. Others with different backgrounds had different values, based on what they needed. And there would always be those seeking out any opportunity for wealth and power. Hopefully, her plans would keep them constrained as well. However, this was politics and that meant compromises. She was willing to give up on most of her demands at the start to get a government body formed and agreed on.

Of course, it would take time. First, they had to draft the government documents. Then they needed to be ratified and approved by the system and planetary governments. Even then, it didn't actually mean anything until they had the capacity to defend and enforce their laws. Who knew how long it would take to put together a functioning law enforcement body, let alone an army. Until those were up and functional, it would be a stretch to call themselves a government, let alone a major power. That would come in time if this was a success and they survived long enough. Kalist was a minor enough planet that they posed no interest as a target. But the Core and Deep Core were still riddled with warlords, Imperial remnants, pirates, and others who would prey on anyone they deemed weak enough to be an easy target. That would be the fledgling Republic, at first. Whether or not the Jedi would return to the Republic, she couldn't honestly say. Or even if people wanted them back. But, that was a problem for a different time.

She poured herself a glass of water and rubbed her temple, waiting for the other delegates to arrive so they could get down to the hard work of establishing a government.

Spoiler: OOC Info

This is the IC government establishment for the Republic faction that I have been working on for some time now. It's for politicians and representatives of worlds who wish to contribute to and be a member world of this Republic. If you're interested, hop in the Discord server and say hello or shoot me a PM here on the site.

Also, since we’re transitioning into this more or less from the Corellian Confederation, love to have you Corellians hop in and join! If politics aren’t your thing, maybe come up with another story that best suits your character


ELSEWHERE
Kalist was never a rich planet. It still wasn’t. That left a lot of infrastructure underdeveloped and lacking. For the most part, beyond the city, settlers were self sufficient, or tried to be. As part of the new modernizing process, the Kalist government has begun a surveying project to better chart the desert homesteads and their resources, with the goal of developing a network of cisterns to better store water.

Vaudin Miir

 

[Raona Cadera]

Kalist was a desert world. It was hot, it was dry, and most of the people here were...Well they were people that wanted the return of civility and security in the Core and that was all that mattered. Her and a few other members of what had once been the Corellian Council Fable. The New Republic...Corellia and her sister worlds split from them when they'd fallen to the point of insanity. Now here she was, helping rebuild it. This time the right way she hoped. She and others took their seats and Lisza flashed a smile at the young would be senator.

"Thank you for inviting us to your world for this first meeting. I've read the briefing but for those of us who haven't could you introduce us to yourself and your world?"

Fable Solborne

 

[BB-4001A]

N A L • H U T T A
Several Days Earlier...

A satchel landed at the feet of a sneering Twi'lek in a smoking jacket, a pair of dancers on either side, and a lit deathstick dangling from his lips. Bloodshot eyes peered down with disdain, a slightly inebriated slur evident as the man looked up from where Corellian Confederation bank notes were sticking out from the open bag. The dancer to his left moved to scoop up the credits, counting the money as the one on the right poured him another drink. And he droid? He just stood there, waiting to be acknowledged or dismissed.

This was the palace of one of the Black Sun underlords. The droid never heard who, exactly, they were working for. Of course, he hadn't asked either. The Hutt was the one who seemed to call the shots for the day-to-day business, but no one ever said his name either. He was just known as Gangsta.

Gangsta the Hutt.

The atmosphere inside of Gangsta's palace was a toxic mixture of spice vapors and noxious deathstick smoke. Gamorrean enforcers flanked either side of the small, afro-headed droid. Exotic dancers made a public spectacle of themselves to the sleazy lounge music that trickled from out of one corner of the antechamber. The people in audience were easily divided into three categories.

The die hard criminals who'd devoted themselves to the cartel. Those ran the spectrum from the ubiquitous Gangsta the Hutt himself to the Gamorrean guards who were probably too stupid to understand anything more than the concept that Gangsta paid them money to eat just for punching things.

The groupies who leached off the cartel like flies on dung. Those were the bounty hunters and the lounge lizards who waited in the winds for the opportunity to serve their preferred customer.

The last group was the one that BB had cast his lot in, the people who were caught like flies in the spider's web. They couldn't escape. They couldn't get away. All they could do is possibly delay the inevitable, which was a death at the hands of the cartels.

The dancer finished counting, leaning over to whisper something in the ear of the Twi'lek. When she had, the sneer turned into a scowl. "What's this?" the man demanded, kicking the satchel back over toward the deceptively young looking droid.

The bank notes spilled out over the tops of BB's feet, as the satchel flipped over and tumbled against his leg. "Payment," the chore bot answered flatly.

"There's only five thousand here," the Twi'lek snapped back.

Quick point of fact: The original loan was only for two thousand. Somehow, with interest that no one had ever mentioned until he'd thought he was ready to pay off his debts, the droid's debt had blossomed and spiraled in a financial explosion of red.

It wasn't about the capital. It wasn't about the money. It wasn't even about the interest. He'd borrowed money from the Black Sun. There was no going back from that. He was never going to pay this debt off. "We ran into some trouble on Anaxes," the boy stated evenly. With one foot, he flipped the satchel on the ground back upright, before stating, "It's what I got."

"Well it ain't what you borrowed!"

"Haku ne?"

The sound of a second voice caused everything to stop.

The music stopped. The dancing stopped. The side chatter and hushed din of conspiratorial whispering, all of it stopped as the Hutt made his presence known. Like a bloated slug, the massive creature slithered across the floor, it's considerable bulk reared up as it addressed the child-like automaton. "Bu kaae droida. Wonkee woy uba nai kachu mi tah voshanesa?"

The Hutt's tone was concilliatory. Even his body language seemed ameniable, but the droid knew better than to take such honeyed words at face value. At the same time, was there anything that he could say that would do anything to change the situation for what it was? "I'm not trying to be a problem, sir," the droid uttered.

That wasn't exactly true. He was trying to clear his debts and get the kark out of this business. Everything about his even being here was wrong. This wasn't what he'd been manufactured for. And maybe that was a problem, because BB wanted to be free.

"See pacmhanaduee, uba tee dotke Hee Jee hatkocanh lee chalya uba tah makacheesa bai woy fa fet mi. Jee gee uohza da Jee dayan bai yoieu bai bu Chawinu Kankahnox'a."

"The Deep Core?" the droid uttered, echoing back the destination that the Hutt had described. He could understand why Gangsta would have a hard time finding a smuggler willing to travel there. Navigating that area of space was more art than science, with a good bit of luck involved.

Wait, had Gangsta said what the job was? "What kind of freight?"

"Hee saconba," the Hutt rumbled in a low, baritone growl. In that moment, BB realized that he had miscalculated. A short, thick arm gestured off to the side, as Gangsta added, "Jee kacay bu jotke droida coo saconba mi hee saconba."

Turning his head, his ocular sensors tracking where the Hutt was pointing, BB found himself looking over at where a protocol droid was being dismembered and disintegrated.

The message was clear.

Turning back toward the underlord, the afro-headed droid meekly bowed its head toward the Hutt. "Yes, sir," the droid uttered.

He was a fly stuck in the web. He didn't get to dictate to the spiders.

The droid turned to leave.

The Twi'lek's voice stopped the boy in his tracks. "This'll cover the interest this time. But your debt just went up. Twelve thousand. And you better have it all next time."

He didn't have a restraining bolt. There were no chains on his arms or legs. But walking out of Gangsta's palace, BB knew that he was a slave.

And he would never be free.

B Y O O
Objective: Don't Get Arrested​

K A L I S T
Present Day

The Corellian freighter reverted back to normal space.

With so many strong gravitational anomalies coreward, not the least of which was the center of the galaxy itself, he'd run each jump through the navi-computer twice and then verified the computations, painstakingly checking the computer's math, before he'd managed to arrive to the Kalist System.

The cartel had given him the star chart for this destination. A former Imperial labor camp didn't exactly sound inviting to him, but it seemed that organics would settle just about anywhere. It was dust bowl of poverty, with a lackluster job market that had created a stagnant working class that seemed trapped in wage slavery.

Just the right set of circumstances for the spice dealers to come in and offer a vulnerable people the opportunity to forget their worries for a moment. Chemical induced escapism, all courtesy of your friendly neighborhood deathstick dealer.

Which meant that someone had to supply that dealer. Which was, apparently, where BB came in.

This was not part of his original Archangel programming. Nor was it part of the basic BB-4001X service package. Simply put, this was not what BB had set out to do with his life.

 

[Fable Solborne]

Raona Cadera BB-4001X

The door behind her opened with a hiss and Fable stood, straightening her robes and tunic. She greeted the newcomers with a smile while they all filed in to take a seat. She hadn't met any of them before, but that was hardly surprising. She had spent most of her life here on Kalist and only traveled off-world for brief stints, all work-related. She waited until the rest took their seat before she took her own again.

"Welcome to Kalist," she said, giving a smile to the head of the delegation. She didn't recognize the species but knew she was Corellian. That meant a great deal to the people of Kalist. Corelliahad always been a bastion of independence and free-thinking, which to a population descended from political and war prisoners, meant there was a philosophical kinship. Stubborn, probably. Perhaps even fiercely so. "I am Fable Solborne, head of the coalition here that has worked for the past ten years on broader galactic involvement."

She turned and activated the holodisplay, portraying a representation of the world. "We are in the Deep Core here, meaning that access is limited and difficult. Hence, our trade with the greater galaxy is limited by that and a lack of resources." The display shifted to highlight different areas. "We were initially settled as a penal colony by the Galactic Empire, and most of us are descended from those prisoners." Fable gave a shrug. "Which means very little was ever invested into the world and it shows. My family, for example, has been moisture farmers for at least five generations, and it's not uncommon for that to be the sole trade for many families to provide for the main city--here."

A laser pointer highlighted the city they were now in. "Further economic development is hindered by a lack of infrastructure and no well-organized means of storing water for the dry seasons. A bad harvest means the whole city goes short."

A different projection appeared and highlighted a list of materials. "These are what we can offer- predominantly mining and industrial based, but we need seed investment to get the process going in a wide scale."

She rolled the chair over to another display and activated another projector, this one in the center of the room. "In addition, we have been in contact with likeminded individuals to form a broader coalition for the re-establishment of a Republic." A chart appeared, listing the supporting worlds and individuals, and the governing structure they had drawn up. "We have put together a proposed government for your consideration and support to bring about this change."

 

[Alana Sunrider]

BYOO- Jedi Business
​

Alana felt at home the moment she stepped off the boarding ramp of her freighter. She knew the world instantly, as if she herself had grown up there. The heavy air that pressed down on the lungs, the wind that scraped across her face until she pulled up a scarf to cover it, the slow-almost-despondent movement of the locals around the small starport. They had begun moving a bit more rapidly at the sudden appearance of the group of shuttles and ships from the Confederation and the excitement seemed to stir things up, but that didn't last long.

Dust puffed up around her feet as they touched the dirt. Just like Ambria. All that was missing was the Dark Side spirits trapped in the lake. This was free of both that taint and the wreckage from wars of the ancient past. Instead, there was nothing but desert until the horizon, speared now and then by the outline of moisture vaporators. Deja vu washed over her as she strode to the main office, where a handful of credits paid her docking fees, a touch up of maintenance, and refueling.

The lightsaber hung at her belt, hidden beneath the edge of her poncho, but she doubted she would need it here. What could really go wrong? The planet was too small for any serious crime. Petty, local stuff, but there wasn't enough credits on the whole rock to make it a worthwhile investment for any major cartel. They'd spend more than they could make just arriving at the planet, with the mess that was the hyperlanes in this area.

The young woman hoisted a backpack over her shoulder and trudged the rest of the way into the old prison camp. It had been converted into the main city since its abandonment, with the defenses, somewhat maintained to keep the city secure, but the bulk of the dome was shattered and lay piled around the outskirt of the city. Fragments of transparisteel crunched beneath her boots as she followed the path up.

Something in the depths of the city, beneath the ground, was calling at her attention. She couldn't define it, but something in the Force was stirring at her. She had originally come for the delegation, but some hyperdrive issues kept her separated from the main group. She wasn't quite needed in that delegation and this seemed more pressing than some negotiations. Alana wasn't a great Jedi, but she knew she could trust the Force in this, wherever it led her.


BB-4001X

 

[Zahara Myneto]

Today he wasn't aboard a ship. He wasn't in an office. And he surely wasn't in a command center. Instead he found himself entertaining, politicians. He guessed it had something to do with his promotion, however he didn't like that the negotiations had to take place on a desert world. It just wasn't him.

"Vice Admiral, smile" coexed his aid, Commadore Natassi Doreen. "You try to smile when your skin feels like powder." He angrily replied.

"Greetings, Admiral. The Diktat and the Senator are this way" said one of the natives when Zahara entered the building. The man guided them towards the room where the "formal" meetings were to be occurring.

Raona Cadera Fable Solborne

 

[Venandi]

The Republic. Venandi and his brothers each had mixed feelings about the entity that had ultimately created them, however, they also knew more about the Republic of old than most who now lived. After all, they had lived during the time of the Republic, and the birth of the Empire. So of course they'd know the history, they had lived it, breathed it, fought it. However, someone sought to re purpose the Republic, create a new entity with the good of the old, and without the bad. To do so, said someone needed senators, which is how Venandi came upon this information, not that anyone would ever know other than his brothers. The senator wasn't going to be speaking anytime soon, or ever again, about how Venandi and his brothers got this information.

But that was all irrelevant, what was relevant is that Venandi had coordinates to a meeting area, and the correct codes to enter. Kalist, near the core, a planet that Venandi had never been to, as the fighting had never truly reached here, or if it had, he hadn't been part of it. Not that it mattered now, there was a new battlefield for Venandi and his brothers to navigate now, a world of diplomacy, and if worse came to worse, blasters. However, they were going to this meeting expecting something peaceful, and as such didn't come with full weapon loadouts, going minimalistic for once, each only carrying a pair of DC-17 pistols, while Venandi had a westar M5 hidden and Strings had a DC-15s hidden(squad is in bio).

They had landed on the planet 2 days prior, having had little time to get there earlier, but it was enough. Venandi and his brothers had scouted out the area, then waited patiently for the day to come. When the day finally did come, Venandi and his brothers put cloaks on over their armor, concealing their weapons and armor, along with the hood over their heads concealing their helmets. All in all, as they made their way towards the meeting area, they blended in rather well, seeing as there were many others with cloaks designed to keep the sun out, and the cool air in. Because of this, and some well placed credits as bribes and knowing the proper codes, they weren't searched thoroughly, allowing them ease of access into the meeting room.

Flowing into the room in pairs, his brothers didn't remove their cloaks from their heads as they followed Venandi to a free seat. It seems they had come in just in time too, seeing as shortly after, some more people filed in, and then the meeting started. Leaning back in his chair, two of his brothers pulled up their own chais, Cutter and Strings were those two, while Surge carefully leaned back against the wall behind them, crossing his arms over his chest. For now it wouldn't look like they were armed or armored, but that could change quickly if they weren't careful. As such, Venandi decided that for now they'd simply watch and wait, listening as others spoke. Eventually they'd interject, but right now, they wanted to see what would happen.

Zahara Myneto | Fable Solborne | Raona Cadera |

 

[Raona Cadera]

It seemed that Democracy and light was finally returning to the Core. It lit a spark of hope in her heart and as untrained as she was in the Force she couldn't help but radiate those feelings in the Force.

"We've heard of your plights...And many others in the Core. We...This Confederation Corellia established has come to the decision that it is time to extend our aid to other systems such as your own but we've realized that as we are structured now we can't...So I'm glad we met you. You are the answer we were too stubborn to find on our own. With the establishment of a new, fairer Republic with stronger bonds I think we can truly bring light to the Core again." Several other councilors nodded their head in agreement.

"But issues of military, trade, and a myriad of other things come into play. I know it seems like we are putting a lot on you, but how would you handle these issues?"

Fable Solborne Venandi Zahara Myneto

 

[BB-4001A]

"Luck's Revenge, this is Kalist Port Authority. Transmit identification, crew and cargo manifest."

For a planet this far coreward, the droid hadn't expected to encounter much in the way of traffic. Instead, it seemed like there was some kind of convention in town. Or something. There were a variety of large star cruisers and diplomatic couriers in the shipping lanes, along with the usual freighter traffic. Shifting out of the lane, the small droid felt as though he was threading the eye of a needle as he guided the YTA-1300 in the congestion.

He'd been coming up alongside a Liorre superfreighter, when a second had started to overtake him. Compared with one of those two kilometer mega-transports, his freighter was a veritable joke. But the last thing he wanted was to get sandwiched between a pair of them. So, instead, he dropped the z-axis by twelve degrees and descended below them.

Now that he had some breathing room, the afro-headed droid moved around the cockpit to toggle the switches necessary to rig the ship for atmospheric flight profile. When that was done, he popped back into the pilot's chair and turned toward the subspace radio. This freighter was stolen, of course. Probably not hot anymore. They'd stolen it out of Coronet City for the Anaxes job, obtaining false registration courtesy of their good friends in the cartels.

A datatape was inserted, containing the slightly less than accurate cargo load out for the ship. Well, accurate for everything that wasn't in the smuggling compartments. Which wasn't much. A few crates of meilooruns. Apparently one of Gangsta's underlings had loaned money to a farmer. When his debts finally caught up to him, they'd burned the farm but brought back some of the produce that he'd been preparing for market. What was a Hutt going to do with fruit? Apparently this.

BB wasn't getting paid anything for this job, so the meilooruns gave him the spectre of legitimacy. And whatever he made from selling those would have to cover the starport fees.

It was a good thing that he wasn't organic. At this point, the droid was so broke that he couldn't have afforded to eat if his life depended on it.

Donning a headset, the boy flipped a switch on the communications console. "Roger, Port Control, this is Luck's Revenge," the boy announced, swinging back over to the pilot controls. "Transmitting now."

Cutting the sublight engines, the boy robot allowed inertia to carry the freighter along the holding path for shipping. Easing back into the pilot's seat, the droid's faun brown ocular sensors peered out the top of canopy at the multitude of stars.

"Luck's Revenge, this is Kalist Port Authority. Permission granted to land at Docking Bay One-Four-Eight. Come to port and adjust z-axis to positive three, then proceed on heading zero zero three until below the mesosphere. A pilot boat will guide you from there."

Sliding forward, the short droid sat on the edge of the pilot's chair. Reaching forward, he eased back the throttle to take the engines out of idle and give the ship some more momentum. "Roger, Port Control. Luck's Revenge, out," the youth announced, before reaching up to toss the headset comlink aside.

Both hands on the controls, the boy elevated the ship before making the slight adjustment toward the planet proper. Then, he cut out the sublight engines completely. Instead, he routed power from the hyperdrive to the repulsors. Then, grabbed the controls for the bowthruster as gently rotated the oval-shaped freighter for a planetfall profile. Reaching over, he toggled the atmospheric shields as the ship began to cavitate as it pased through the radiation belts and started to generate friction and drag through the sky of the planet.

Steady on the controls, the boy maintained the heading as the freighter descended across the planet. Applying the repulsors as an air brake, he eased back from the speed of re-entry as the freighter settled above the clouds.

As expected, a pilot shuttle popped up from beneath him, taking the lead as it guided the freighter toward this docking bay.

A boring flight, but it offered some amazing views of the planetscape.

Alana Sunrider ​

 

[Ava Cartwright-Pryce]

Wildcat Squadron
Kalist System
Deep Core
On recon/patrol

​

The ten-second warning chime of the nav computer made Ava Cartwright's eyelids flutter open with a start, then a series of beeps from her astromech droid broke the silence in the cockpit. It made the starfighter pilot sit a bit straighter against the crash webbing of the T-90's pilot couch and focus.

[ I most definitely did not fall asleep. I was merely resting my eyes. ] Goldie quipped back at the blue, silver, and white R-9 unit. Squeak sent another round of beeps, this time with a bit more of a snarky sound. [ What do you mean I was snoring?! I.do.not.snore, just ask... Oh nevermind. ] she sighed heavily, then quickly pulled back the hyperdrive lever reverting the black and orange X-wing to realspace; a good distraction.

Toggling over to the squadron channel, the Commander keyed the comm. [ This is Wildcat Leader. Call it in 'cats. ]

After all pilots from the squadron had checked in with their status, Goldilocks reminded them of the current mission parameters.

[ We are here to do a little reconnaissance along with patrolling the system while our diplomatic big wigs are meeting with the representatives of Kalist VI planetside. Break off into flights, then wing pairs within your assigned grid. Keep it casual folks, but stay alert. ]

Dracken Pryce , open

​

 

[Fable Solborne]

Others had filed in before the presentation started, and still cloaked, spread themselves around the room. It was a bit intimidating, but she had a feeling she knew who they were. Confederation security. Perhaps it was a little insulting, to think they couldn't protect themselves or their guests, but the Core was dangerous. It was always dangerous in a galaxy like this, but the Core was almost worse than the Outer Rim. They had stable and functioning governments out there that respected freedom and liberty for their populaces. If they weren't on the complete opposite end of the galaxy, she might have convinced Kalist to join them. But, unfortunately, they were isolated and had to establish their own form of governance.

Another person entered, introduced as Admiral Zahara. Corellian? Or one of the Imperial warlords? She wasn't sure. If it was an Imperial trying to sway her to their cause, they were out of luck. Kalist had suffered enough under a multitude of Empires. They had been an Imperial prison world for that matter. Last thing they needed was more Imperials in the area. But, she was a politician, and that meant courtesy to all her guests.

She nodded and waited before resuming to answer Lisza's questions. "Of course, certainly. We live in a dangerous and volatile sociopolitical reality. Until the region can be safely secured for democracy, our assessment was that it would best to have a two tier level of military defense. Each system and planet should maintain its own defense force for local security and routine measures, while a centralized Grand Army would be best operated at the federal level, with the possibility to operate in conjunction with defense forces when greater assets are required for significant campaigns."

Fable brought up another display, highlighting some possibilities for various military organizations and structures. "This would allow for a continuous state of defense for the member states while allowing operational flexibility that can better adapt to circumstances."


Zahara Myneto Venandi Raona Cadera Vaudin Miir

 

[Alana Sunrider]

BB-4001X

Alana paused as a freighter lurched overhead. All things considered, it was fairly small, especially compared to the massive bulk freighters she'd seen in orbit. Yet what kind of cargo would be of worthwhile business to sell here? She slowed and took a seat against a building, watching to see what might come out of it. As the shuttle led it in, she couldn't help but admire the sleekness and elegance of both ships. There was something magical about a starship. It was what kept her so attached to her own, although it was quite a clunky thing. Built to survive the rigor and wild of the Rim as much as carrying cargo. Not that she carried much cargo.

A few children played in the sand not far away and a smile twitched at her mouth as she watched. She remembered her life like that on Ambria, when she was too young to seek out scrap of her own. It had left her with most of the day to play until the adults returned with scrap to clean. She had built castles and fortresses then, much like these children were. They were cleaner and better fed than she had been, of course.

Her early life had been the deepest of poverty and privation. This world wasn't quite as poor. Seemed to lack the massive ruins of ancient wars polluting their surface, which probably made a significant difference. Hopefully they could help make a difference to these folks as well. Make the world a better place with more opportunities. Keep the worst of what could happen away. It was what brought them all here, after all. It was why the Confederation existed. It was why they wanted to branch out further and bring more systems in. Work together to make things better.

 

[Theo Vereen]

He walked with the Confederation Delegation quietly listening as Raona Cadera spoke to the representatives of Kalist. He felt awkward and caged in here. This was not his realm he was more at home on the deck of a ship then this. This was torture.

But he was here and would do as he was bid to. Offer what help they could, ensure a republic stayed in place, and be present. He already decided he was going to ask for a transition to security should his mother decide to send him out again. Patrols had been quiet lately in their little part of the galaxy and while they enjoyed it they knew it would not last.

Alderaan needed friends, and to be seen.

Here he was being seen. He wished his mother would do this instead.

What did Kalist need?

 

[BB-4001A]

Most droids were only vaguely humanoid.

Metal chassis, visible servomotors, and odd attachments ensured that their mechanical nature was the most notable feature about them. It made droids easy to classify as things. Sure, they had vocabulators. They had processors that allowed for independent thought. Hell, starfighter-rated astromechs were possible of running calculations hundreds of times faster than the human brain. But, even with the common belief that droids each had their own personalities, they were always something to be seen as less than human. Less than animal, even. Just another appliance, like a toaster.

Human Replica Droids flew in the face of everything people thought they knew about droids. In his case, that was intentional. The BB-4001X was intended to work in hospices, assisted living communities, and other areas of organic existence where a non-threatening appearance was preferable to the perceived insult of a nanny droid or as unfeeling as bare metal.

Because of their outward appearance, people would categorize a Human Replica Droid as a person. Not as a thing. When they realized the truth, the shock could generate strong reactions from people.

The customs agent's boot caught the boy square in the chest. The force of impact lifted the chore bot off his feet, sending him flying backward. The afro-headed boy landed in the dirt, a prominent bootprint visible on the front of the Interstellar Shipping shirt that he wore.

Stepping past where the droid lay in the dirt, the customs agent just uttered, "Fething skinjob," as he made his way up the open loading ramp.

Just moments earlier, the man had started to ask the droid where his parents were, before the handheld scanner that he carried pinged on the fact that the boy was mechanical.

The man obviously took exception to the boy's human appearance.

Staring up, the droid lay on his back in the dirt. His faun brown ocular sensors reflected the clouds, as he stared up through the open canopy of the docking bay at the sky overhead.

"Droid!"

His organic overlords beckoned. Pushing himself up on his elbows, the small chore bot picked himself up out of the dirt. The customs agents were exiting the YTA-1300. "According to this manifest, you're not supposed to be here," the man barked, jabbing a thick finger in the boy's face. "Explain. Now."

"I was supposed to deliver this produce to Ojom, but my navicomputer malfunctioned," the droid stated evenly. It was a cover story that he'd had time to construct. For what the cargo was, it made the most sense, rather than trying to talk his way out of an otherwise random appearance with a cargo hold full of fresh produce. "I was fortunate to pick up the navigation buoy outside the star system here and was able to navigate my way here," the droid remarked.

The first customs agent turned toward his partner. "And this is what they replace human pilots with," the man commented.

"The navicomputer was programmed for Ojom," the other replied, as the two began to talk back and forth as though the droid were not even there.

Because, to them, he wasn't. He wasn't a person. He wasn't an individual. He was just another toaster.

Holding up the cargo manifest, the first agent applied the proper stamps. "What a fething joke," the man uttered. He didn't even hand it back to the droid. Instead, he just dropped it to the ground, walking over it as the pair of customs agents made their way from out of the docking bay.

Taking a few steps forward, the small droid crouched down as he picked up the manifest.

When she had been alive, Mrs. Pendago had liked to read to him. He'd remind her multiple times per day that he was a droid, but she'd go on about how he reminded her of her grandchildren and great-grandchildren. To her, he'd been something human.

Then, when she'd died, those grandchildren had tossed him in the garbage as they raided her house for what they wanted out of it.

The trash. Just like the toaster.

Alana Sunrider​

 

[Zahara Myneto]

Zahra had noticed how the senator had looked at him. His clothes warranted her thoughts. However it would be improper for him to interupt official negptions by offering a swear of allegiance. However, he simply tapped his officers badge, which had the official symbol of the Correlian Federation upon it.

He couldn't help but smile when the topic of military came up. Finally, something interesting to talk about.

"When we broke away from the New Republic, our military was increased by over 100%. Particularly good numbers. You see, Correlian has a tradition of rebellion however we also have a tradition for protection. And I assure you, my aide will do a great job commanding the Task Force that will be protecting Kallist until the Grand Admiral has made his final decisions on who to assign to this system." And with that he indulged in a drink a service droid had brought for him.

Raona Cadera , Fable Solborne

 

[Alana Sunrider]

Alana looked up suddenly as something surged in the Force. Anger, hatred, all the things of the Dark. Yet she saw no threat, certainly no Sith. Just a few of the customs agents kicking down a freighter pilot. A surge of adrenaline poured through her bloodstream and she hurried over. The pilot looked hardly more than a child. But no, that wasn't right. She paused for a few steps before it clicked. He was a droid. She stiffened and shot an indignant look at the retreating officials. Hardly befitting a Jedi, but their behavior deserved it.

"Hey, are you alright?" Alana asked, coming over and kneeling beside the pilot. "That was pretty rough treatment they gave you. Anything damaged?" She couldn't see anything, but he would know better than she. And probably didn't need help repairing himself, but it never hurt to offer. She'd grown up scavenging and repairing old parts. Machinery clicked in her mind and it all made sense, even the more complex circuitry of droids.

Droids were valuable. Not just from a perspective of materials, but they had their own sense of being and existence. It never made sense to her why so many organics denied and hated that. Perhaps it meant they would have to face up to the terrible nature of their own behavior. She didn't know. She was a Jedi, essentially. Not a philosopher or lawyer. But the way this poor kid had been treated? She wouldn't stand for it. Once he was okay, she had an inkling to give those customs officials a piece of her mind. They wouldn't like that. Nothing like a first experience with Jedi to be a tongue lashing to leave an impression.

BB-4001X

 

[Raona Cadera]

Fable wasn't much younger than herself. They were born into the same generation of post-plague parents in a post-plague Galaxy, yet living on a planet like Kalist she probably grew up with hardships Lisza could never dream of...Yet here she was, standing defiantly above it all and wishing for a better future for not only her planet, but all planets. She felt it in the Force. This woman could heal the Core. Her eyes fell on the military officer as he began to speak and wondered who had sent this particular officer. She grimaced inwardly when he mentioned Corellia's secession from the New Republic. That wasn't what they needed. They didn't need to make their potential new allies wary. She looked to his rank plate to catch his rank.

"What the Vice-Admiral means," she started, "Is that until this...Grand Army is put together, that Corellia along with others from our old Confederation can provide security and aid until this is set in stone." She smiled at Fable again and nodded to a few other Councilors.

"Until the Republic can stand on its own Corellia will be its shield. Just as in times of old."

Fable Solborne Zahara Myneto Theo Vereen

 

[Jayne Colacta]

Jayne Colacta, looked over the latest reports of events in the galaxy. The particular report she was reading was a basic assessment of the various intergalactic nations, where they stood militarily diplomatically, politically and economically.


The Sith Empire was almost certainly going to be hostile at the very least. On that particular front Jayne hoped to have a mutual defence contract with the Silver Order of Jedi. Jayne thought or maybe rather hoped that the bourgeoning Republic would be able to count the large Order as a friend and ally. Though a diplomatic mission approaching them for the necessary treaty would need to be arranged.

The Confederacy of Independent System was a potential ally, certainly their laws were moral in regards to slavers, they were also one of the larger interstellar governments, an alliance or at the very least a non aggression pact would be ideal.

Further out the Outer Rim Coalition, seemed to be having a reform of its own system of government so far not much was known about what that change in the system would become. The only thing of real substance her assets had learned was the rebrand into the Outer Planets Alliance. Careful monitoring of what the new system of government would become was necessary. Not unlike the new system of government they were currently trying to create or rather recreate depending on how one looked at it.

Director Jayne had also knowledge that the Black Sun was having it’s own resurgent in power. The Criminal Syndicate had always been powerful and slippery, but it was rare that they emerged to actually take territory. Unfortunately though the Republic was in little position to do anything about that hive of scum and villainy.

Finally she had heard disturbing rumours of a growing threat in the form of a new aggressive species conquering worlds on the far side of the galaxy.


All of these potential threats, and tenuos possible alliances. Jayne could see the players as if she was studying a chess board. Before the Republic could become a positive force in the galaxy however they'd need to forge relationships with these sovereign states. As Director of Intelligence, she felt it important that the Intelligence branch be represented.

Jayne had held back at the meeting at first to size up the attendies and any possible problems. One didn't become an Intelligence Officer without a healthy degree of Paranoia.

"I can assure you all the Corellia is more than up to the task until a permanent solution is supplied."

Jayne smiled at the startled looks in her direction

"I'm Director Jayne Colacta, acting Head of Intelligence. Formerly Commander of CorSec Task Force"

Jayne entered the centre of the room.

"My concerns are of our Intergalactic standing and positioning. What are our goals when it comes to the other Forces of the Galaxy? and I don't mean Dark Side or Light side"

Zahara Myneto | Fable Solborne | Raona Cadera | Fable Solborne

 

[Venandi]

Venandi and his brothers were quiet as everyone else spoke, carefully taking in what each of their soon to be counterparts said, believed, and contributed. Smiling behind his helmet at the comment of bringing light to the core, Venandi thought back to when the core was the light, when the Republic ruled, before turning into the Empire. Both failed eventually, but Venandi had supported and helped both, perhaps this one could last longer, even with more enemies out in the galaxy.

Remaining where he was, Venandi continued to listen and couldn't help but snort when the two tier system for the military was mentioned. During the Clone War, local forces had almost never helped, what with being horribly trained, and not having much will to fight anywhere but their home planet or system. Most joined just to get payed credits and possibly help with schooling. They weren't anywhere the same level as the Grand Army, then again, few armies ever would be as good as the Grand Army of old, the clone Grand Army. Then again, he'd rather have regular wets fight and die, instead of creating more brothers that would be treated horribly. As such, Venandi didn't voice his opinion again, as much as he'd have liked to, he wanted wets to fight and suffer for their government, rather than have brothers suffer for them.

Turning his head to observe a new member to the group, an officer by the looks of it. Taking in his appearance, Venandi skipped over the man, focusing instead on what he said. Military ships would be good, which meant Venandi would have to speak with him eventually. Deciding that he'd speak soon, Venandi thought on what to say when another person joined the conversation. Taking the other person in, Venandi was slightly intrigued, acting head of intel and former CorSec? That was saying something, a lot of somethings actually, and it made her a priority target to speak with eventually.

Smirking behind his helmet, Venandi nodded to his brothers once, before standing up as well, his cloak flowing about him as he stood, helmet obscured in shadows as he looked over those assembled. Raising his arms to his hood, Venandi's armored forearms were revealed. Not that anyone was bound to notice as he unmasked his helm, revealing for all the ARC clone trooper helmet, jaig eyes present, red scar across his helmet, and visor across the top. The light gleamed off the black, battle scarred helmet, clearly showing to all that this man was one of action. Glancing over those assembled, Venandi spoke then, voice the same as every other clone trooper of Fett, though aged more, but still strong and clear.

"The Republic of old, from the Clone War and before, started with such lofty ideals. Protecting member planets, trading with one another, bettering everyone. It failed, it failed horribly." Letting his gaze pass over them, he continued on after a short pause, letting his words sink in. "Every planet looked out only for themselves and their closest allies. Back then, this was alright, simply because of the size of the Republic. But this," he gestured at the listed planets. "this is hardly enough for something like that. So, how will you make people actually care about the greater good?"

Pausing to let them think for another moment, he continued on shortly thereafter.
"And how will you protect your members? You said a two stage military, a Grand Army and then some planetary force. When I fought, the only ones who did any good were those in the Grand Army, the planetary forces were next to useless. So. How will they be worth something this time around?" Turning his gaze to Lisza then, he asked a question that had been floating around in his head this entire time. "And why is Corellia so interested in helping and protect others? What do you get out of it all, other than more clout, more say, and a way to dictate to others what rules to follow."

Venandi stood there then, observing those before him, arms hidden within his cloak, body completely covered, the only thing visible was his helmet, it's T-visor gazing out uncaring at all present. Even as all this happened, his three brothers had hardly moved, still sitting or standing where they had been, but their own cloaks covered them completely, even as they observed the others.

Raona Cadera | Jayne Colacta | Zahara Myneto | Theo Vereen | Fable Solborne

 

[Raona Cadera]

The outburst caught him off guard. The man whom he thought was the guard of the Kalist woman, but apparently he was his own man, a troubling development. She looked to her aide who was already on a com speaking in hushed tones. She found her hand sneaking behind her slowly, her eyes never leaving the man in armor.

"Thank you for the history lesson soldier... Who are you again? One of Kalist's guards or...?"

Venandi