Populate Frostbitten, Twice Shy | Populate of Rhen Var | NIO

[IMPSOC]

FROSTBITTEN, TWICE SHY
THE SECOND GREAT HYPERSPACE WAR
New Imperial Order​

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R H E N _ V A R
I C E D _ O U T
870 ABY

"Alright boys, listen up, we've got time for one rundown before you're due to show, so let's make it count. We've got a war to win and the means to do it. Rhen Var; sound familiar? The Jedi used to love the place and as it turns out, they just might have left behind quite a number of fun little toys we might be able to make useful again.

Problem is the crazed Mawites want 'em just as bad as we do. Your bottom line? Get in there, get those goodies, and beat the crap outta any wacko psychonaut who tries to stop you.

Oh and, maybe bring me back a souvenir, hm? You're droppin' in twenty minutes, good luck out there."

OBJECTIVE I | BLIZZARD
FOCUS | WARLORDS & MOFFS
AREA OF OPERATIONS | ORBIT

​

"The good Lord Executor has volunteered to host the next sparring match, er, I mean Imperial Assembly overseeing the operations on Rhen Var from orbit, onboard The Dissident Aggressor. I've heard of the thing, but never been on it, personally. No advice for you there. Seems like the discussion floor is open in regards to The Enclave's involvement with our operations moving forward and the matter of our... alliances. Lots of heat around those subjects, so I heard. Build your case, present your thoughts, and uh... try not to make too much of a mess, yeah?"

"Only words of advice I got for ya? Bring a flask."

OBJECTIVE II | SMASH AND GRAB
FOCUS | GROUND POUNDERS & IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
AREA OF OPERATIONS | HOLDING FACILITY X5-F
OPPOSITION | MAWITE SOLDIERS & SCAVENGERS
​

"So get this, there's this huge sprawling research and development center on this planet, who woulda thought, right? Anyway, the Jedi used this place as a forge for a number of weapons and base tech, and our intelligence shows they left in a hurry. You hear that? That's the sound of opportunity knockin'. But of course, we aren't the only ones who heard it, the slimy Sith dogs are all over it, too. As if that wasn't problematic enough, scavengers have found the place, and are dead set on making off with the goodies we're after."

"Get in there and get our prize. Knock some heads around, blow something up, feth, maybe even uncover a secret that changes the course of the war for the better while you're at it. A little birdie told me that some of the scavengers might just be open to diplomacy, funny that, we're under the authorization to shoot anyone who impedes us. To shoot or not to shoot, that's the question- approach it how you want, just... get it done, soldier."

B Y O O
OBJECTIVE III​

Whatever gets you to post, chief.

​

 

[Aurelian Sigismund]

Aurelian Sigismund
High Imperator, Princeps and Shield of Vandemar, Grandmaster of the Legions​

✠ Objective: I. Blizzard

✠ Location: Rhen Var System, Approaching Rhen Var Orbit, The Phalanx

✠ Gear: Mantle, Urizen, Lancer

✠ Assets: The Phalanx

✠ Tag(s): Open (come on in Warlords and Moffs of the NIO!)

​

Even though nobody knew or would guess it, but this was the favourite location for Aurelian. There was no other place he liked more than the bridge of his old chariot, the warhorse on which he was riding to war countless times and bringing down the two of the greatest realms ever to exist. The ship was the only object in his possession which was as old as he was, even though it was a few years younger. Not even his lightsaber pike was as old. The Phalanx was closest to what the tall soldier-king ever knew as home. The place where he received news of greatness and grief.

Now the High Imperator of Vandemar was once more standing on the bridge, his eyes staring out onto a white-blue iceball called Rhen Var. He was just coming from some festivities in the South of some pompous noble when the call for the warlord of the Empire ringed and requested his presence. The Zakuulan had no issue with obedience or faking it. He was afterall still loyal to the values and person who he admired the most, who made him who he is today, who made him forge a civilisation and army to conquer the stars for exactly these values and secretly in the name of exactly that person.

His thoughts moved to the first legion which was in the bowels of the ship and then to their opposition. Sith. He never believed it. Aurelian Sigismund never believed that Valkorion was a Sith or rather 'the Sith', a demon of the Dark side. Either it was a propaganda effort of the terrorists which are now all dead and dust or some ridicule claim by the Sith who wanted a piece of the greatness Zakuul offered. The former Exarch only knew that he would kill everyone who put the Most Benevolent Emperor on one level with the abominations and beasts they were fighting.

The Dissident Aggressor was a few dozen kilometers above the Zakuulan ship. A mighty battleship and the Lord Executor was expecting them.

With a turn which brought a bit of movement in the red tabard, the Princeps moved from his elevated position on the bridge towards the exit. He knew the corridors and bulkheads, every each one of them. His step was determined and calm, long meters were bridged with every further clanking of his boots as he made his way towards the hangar and his personal shuttle.

In the hangar his aide and the cadre of Praetorians were already waiting. The former to await command to descend down to the planet and fight, the latter to accompany him to the imperial flagship. With a nod of his head to Augustus Tassar , a golden wreath of laurels adorning it, the High Imperator entered his shuttle and would fly the ship to the imperial ship himself.

​

 

[DECEASED Erskine Barran]

1st Post
THE_WOAD
OBJECTIVE ONE: BLIZZARD
313th Stormtrooper Legion "Sabretooth Legion"

Tags: Noel Strasza Aurelian Sigismund

Aboard the Dissident Aggressor which was halted just outside Rhen Var's outer orbital-sphere, Lord Erskine would enter the conference hall in full white IMPAF-Command attire, missing the medals that once weighed down his Goidelic Free-State officers' uniform from his tenure as a Lord-Commander, but sporting new rank-bars on his right pectoral front pocket with his black-and-gold Lord-General's cane in his right hand. However, the Woad had not arrived to the meeting alone, for Barran had brought his pet tiger with him from his estate in Ravelin, and Misha the Mantellian tiger-cub had grown immensely in the six months since Erskine bought him at the first stop of his recruit-poaching campaign. Lord Erskine had been busy swelling the ranks of the Sabretooth Legion in the months after the Reconquest of Nirauan, and though he only had roughly two battalions' worth of troopers with the right experience and training in their credentials, the Stormchaser knew they were ready for whichever fight the Imperium had in mind for them, for the fighting stock they'd retained by the end of the recruitment campaign's first season was nothing short of frightening already.

And having started in Ord Mantel, it wouldn't just be language tutors and a tiger-cub that Lord-General Barran would be taking along with him. The soldiering class serving for the Republika Mantellska were known to be sterner than most, and with the Woad-born companies Erskine had with him, there would be a great deal of complementing elements learning from each other in symbiotic growth in the field and on future training-exercises. Such exercises that the Lord-General wished to run in collaboration and competition with the likes of the Lord-Executor's elite personal guard-contingent, and also wishing to make equipment comparisons to see where his ordnance funds should've been directed, but the latter proposal was perceived to be the one that would be more-easily batted away in negative reply. Thoughts such as these were flooding the old Woad's mind as he approached the guarded entrance, but Lord Erskine would find himself distracted by the nervous gaze of the guards at either side of the double-door entrance, though they calmed down greatly when they saw the passive demeanour turn into something more affectionate as Barran scratched an itch behind her right ear with his cybernetic left hand.

'Lord-General-'

'Oh, trained.... My apologies, sir. The Lord-Executor has been expecting you.'

Chuckling politely, the old Lord-General nodded with kindly, amiable reassurance towards both guards serving at the entrance, firmly quelling every possible trace of misgivings before replying,'Aye, that he is. An' thanks, might hop out here every now an' again for a smoke though, so ye might get t'see more o' wee Misha before the meeting's done.', as he stepped onto the lush carpet of the conference hall in marching rhythm. With back firmly straight, shoulders back proudly, and eyes firmly to the seat at the head of the table, the Stormchaser would make eye-contact with his friend as drilled, reverent gestures of rank and status took precedence. Marching to the center of the room with Misha keeping up every step of the way, Erskine would halt, offer fist-over-heart salute and bow for the Iron Maiden, reaffirming fealty to Imperator Rurik, the Felist Party and the Imperium in a ceremonious mark of respect. With the Lord-General's baton, there would be no need to present arms with his basket-hilted Vibrosword, which was still attached to his belt, though the scabbard had been polished to parade-square standard - and no Laird of the Woad-Machushla ever sullied their heirlooms in such a gleaming, exemplary state.

'Lord-Executor, good to see ye. Do send my warm regards to the Imperator after we adjourn for the day, he's most welcome back to Galidraan III if time ever permits. Same welcome remains open for yersel, Lady Carla still wants t'meet the one who saved my hide on Ziost!'

With a last nod of respect, Erskine would walk with a naturally-slower stroll towards his seat at the conference table, sitting down as he let Misha curiously sit next to Noel with eyes looking for pets and scratches behind the ear; when he'd settled in properly Lord Erskine would catch the gaze of his comrade from the First Battle for Nirauan, glad that that Sigismund had survived his beleaguerment, and offering nod of friendship and respect in the Vandemarian's direction as the Woad placed his baton down on table between them. 'Glad you survived that Hell, to remain among the dead since the first fight is no easy feat. No, seriously. Hellish to make the fighting retreat to the spaceport as it was, still must've been worse for the Agema... Glad young Tassar stepped up for the reconquest anyway, an' I'll bet you are as well.', Erskine admitted, leaning back in his seat as he reached into the left inner-pocket of his coat, putting his cigarettes next to the Lord-Generals' baton as he pulled out the famed Cladhan-filled hipflask.

'Here, we drink to break monotonies. Hope ye remembered yours, Aurelian.'

 

[Waymar Dathrohan]

ORDER OF THE IMPERIAL KNIGHTS
CHAPTER 'IRON CRUSADE'
THE EMPIRE
ARMOR | SHIELD | LIGHTSABER

​

A foot planted against the chest of the scavenger as he was sent back and down to the metal flood with a low thud. Dathrohan snuffed the argent blade, kneeling down to inspect the cloaked figure before him donned in what seemed to be a uniform haphazardly constructed from Sith Imperial remnant gear and...other articles, seemingly of REC make.

He lifted the cloak to reveal a symbol on the chestplate of ebon painted over with chipped white paint, likely to blend in with the frozen surroundings, that of the Jedi Order imprinted on an outstretched hand. Waymar narrowed his eyes at the observation.

<"I was under the impression it was Mawites or Remnant here, wasn't it?"> He inquired, arching a brow as he looked to the snowtrooper at his flank he crouched down to look over the corpse.

<"Doesn't seem like it, sir. We read their signatures planetside but...it seems they have company. There's Jedi tech here, seems they've come to take what they left behind...or who their peers left behind at the very least.">

<"Noted. Rhen Var is an Imperial system now...they have a right to none of it. Spread out, every nook of this complex needs to be purged of whatever has come to pilfer it. Our will be done, let's move."> Dathrohan said with a word of command before motioning a hand signal to the 501st NCO at his flank. Making his way past the frigid winds of the catwalk and into the facility proper, he continued his investigation and purge of the facility.

TAGS OPEN​

 

[The Fool]

FROSTBITTEN, NEVER SHY
MISUNDERSTOOD HERO vol. I
Issue #1 w/ Waymar Dathrohan

The only time he enjoyed winter was when he was on the inside, tugged between the legs of a Twi'lek slut costing next to nothing. Hey, it's an expensive galaxy we live in, man - a merc's take-home wasn't that much even if it came from the Imperial coffers. They were a stingy bunch of huttkarkers.

Instead of freaky Twi'leks for company, the Fool's got the shortest straw - another all iron-clad, nasty-looking scumbag, just like the lot of 'em. They all looked like Stormies to him, every last one of 'em Imp sons of bitches. The cloaked freak was talking about Jedi in the facility up ahead or some other nonsense, can't tell ya - the Fool wasn't really listening. Heroes only listen to themselves.

Behind the protagonist of every story, there's a colorful supporting cast of convicts with guns. Expendable lot. Their cut of this deal? One night in Come Right Inn. That's it. Can't even cash it out for a meal or anything. The Fool would be doin' em a favor if he got 'em all killed.

"What's this crap about Jedi y'all tinheads talkin' about?" the hero asks, cigar smoke lingering from his lips, "Look at this place - looks exactly the place you'd find those Sith queers touching each other."​

 

[Djorn Bline]

V E N O M _ S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
Konrad Harrsk

Overdue meeting.

Although there was nothing friendly or warming about it, it was just straight business and politics. Neither a political delegate or businessman he was, he was just a soldier; however, soldiers were the pawns of politicians and businessmen, so he had much influence and impact on those matters. Men different than him were taught different lessons about life. The one he was taught came from tragedy. Through that tragedy he learned that the Galaxy only makes sense if you force it to.

That was what he dedicated his entire existence to this day. Changing and forcing the Galaxy to his vision. Many within the New Imperial sought the same mission, but were deviations from his own. There was still impurities within the cast of iron, impurities that needed to be struck upon the anvil with the hammer.

"Harrsk," he approached the young lad, bastard of the late Jaeger Harrsk. An ingenious man who helped shape the New Imperial Order with his scheming and maneuvering, with Djorn to do the the wetwork and labor to complete those goals.

"Moment of your time? I'm sure you can afford a few minutes from writing letters to Warlords."

 

[Gat Tambor]

L O R D _ O F _ W A R
DIRECTOR
TRADE FEDERATION
Aiko Hayata | Don Belkora | Jon Kovacs​

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As doors closed others opened. While the Iron Will decree certainly hampered Tambor's ability to move product from New Imperial space into the Core...it was only so by legal means. Once more, between the Trade Federation and the Empire, mutual interest could be found. The Empire buys up more of Tambor's weapons and those weapons head to the Core, into the hands of pro-Imperial dissidents. Tambor, in truth, didn't give a damn for who or what they were used for, so long as the Empire paid. And the Empire always paid.

In a discreet hangar bay in the Ord Mantallian city of Freelonn, the very city with housed the main production facility of Karovnogal Small Arms, Gat met personally with the COMPNOR representatives due to take and coordinate these gunrunning orders into the Core. Before Gat personally endorsed and authorized the action, he needed to meet with those heading it up personally. In the control area of the hangar bay overlooking the unmarked and rather mundane Corellian freighter beneath, Gat awaited alongside Hayata as Belkora and Kovacs were escorted to them by onsite Trade Defense Security Forces who often did have the right to deny Imperials entry, not that the Code of the New Order explicitly let them, but more so in the interest of good business practice. It would be unwise to bite the hand that feeds and given the calamity Gat could stir knowing what he knew already about the Imperial plans, the two entities largely respected their domains of control.

The door slid open and Gat Tambor rose to welcome the two Imperial agents.

<"EWEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUURRRRRRRRRRRR- Ahhh, Mister Belkora and Mister Kovacs if I am not mistaken. Welcome to Ord Mantell. I do hope your visit has been to your liking so far."> He spoke as if he owned the place. He didn't, of course, but the planet's reliance on heavy industry and the Trade Federation's early investment into rebuilding the places of manufacture following the civil war and ethnic cleansing done by Republika Mantellska to drive out the Keshiri in-exile, was a well-needed investment.

<"But- I shall not waste the time of pragmatic and busy gentlemen such as yourselves. Of course, this is far from my first dealing with the Empire, you both should be very familiar with many products of Trade Federation make from your time in the field, however...this specific order of course expects my direct attention. Know that- I care not for the laws and morals that must be bent in the interests of good business and good business relations but please, do tell all that the Trade Federation can do to satisfy the needs of this...operation."> He seemed rather accommodating, after all- this discussion would likely end with him making even more money so, of course he was.

 

[Aiko Hayata]

BYOO|Rhen Var| Arms dealing
AIKO HAYATA, CEO OF HAYATA CORP
TAGS//: Gat Tambor Don Belkora Jon Kovacs

​

War was a funny business; she had dealt with it both on the legal front and criminal underbelly, both pulled profit as the galaxies thirst for war, and the means to wage it grew unabated in its savagery and all-devouring aura. But she had certainly never entangled her own business in an affair as complicated as this was destined to be.

Aiko and Gat waited for the others to arrive, Aiko having made herself already at home with a cup of Atrisian red and a nearly full bottle laying on the table in front of her and Gat. Her attention was divided between watching the door and keeping a tab on the latest news of the galactic stock market on her datapad. Rates were not great on commercial shipping but business was booming in weapons and defence industries, with stock values rising rapidly with each day. Great for her and the likes of Gat but terrible for the players who were entirely legit about their business habits.

Compnor was an organisation of many secrets and had just as many skeletons as both Aiko and Gat had, only these cats didn't have to maintain a public-friendly image as they did. Aiko wouldn't have been shocked if the Imperials had a dossier on her; after all she was a rather visible figure in the business world and underworld. But then it wouldn't have paid well to kill the head of one of the largest corporations in the core, either.

"Greetings gentlemen, I hope the journey wasn't too tiresome." she smiled and bowed in respect, retaking her seat as the group got to business.

​

 

[Konrad Harrsk]

He casually placed the datapad in his hands to the side then lazily his eyes found the Commissioner, boredom and disinterest clearly written on the Shadow's irises, "I wouldn't be if you could do your job properly and get us rid of the Warlords, wouldn't I, Bline?"

Djorn Bline , to Konrad, was a failure. An inadequate grunt put in a position of power and somehow, somehow trusted by his father enough to rely on doing a lot of the dirty work that had formed COMPNOR into a galactic boogeyman.

Clearly yet another error of judgement from Jaeger Harrsk. A pity. Perhaps it was his father who should've been taking lessons among the Axis of Shadows. Or simply just deferred his job to his mother. At least she could judge a character with no mistake.

"What is it you want?"

 

[The Fool]

FROSTBITTEN, NEVER SHY
MISUNDERSTOOD HERO vol. I
Issue #1 w/ Waymar Dathrohan

As the Knight was slow to respond, our hero turned to his faithful unnamed right-hand Godo - a one-eyed freak of nature convicted of numerous acts of armed robbery, murder and modan.

"This guy speak any Basic? Y'know - the language of freedom? Or is he one of them alien freaks hidin' beneath that tin shell?"​

 

[Don Belkora]

DON BELKORA
COMPNOR
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
Tags: Aiko Hayata Gat Tambor Jon Kovacs

Danger zone​

Don and his acquaintance, who he'd only just met moments prior in the landing bay, both moved for the meeting point, surrounded on both sides by trade federation droids and strange doll-like replicants with Atrisian markings. Hayata certainly knew how to creep the average worker joe out with their craft; he'd seen them in action too on the holonet, crushing several robbers who tried to break into a Hayata shop with brute force.

Aye, he wasn't any stranger to this kind of work; it was what the Imperials hired him for. It took a criminal to know a criminal, and old Donny had been among the worst of them back in the core. The only difference was that his COMPNOR badge enabled him to practical diplomatic immunity to do whatever he wanted in the name of Imperialism, and his prior outstanding arrest warrants didn't matter as no one would touch an employee of the Imperials.

The pair eventually found the Skakoan and Atrisian heiress waiting for them; Don strolled in ahead with all the confidence in the world, making himself at home and sitting directly opposite of Tambor and Aiko.

"Pretty dam good i'd say," Don chuckled in response to the Atrisians comment, pulling out a packet of Corellian blue Cigarras and placing them on the table along with a lighter. He glanced at Kovacs and back at Tambor before offering the two business people a handshake.

"Oh I know the Trade Federation and yourself so very well; who wouldn't? Half the galaxy thinks Gat pisses gold, and Ms Hayata, how could we not know the famous replicants you produce... But anyhow, my friend and I are here to talk about a potential Operation in the core involving the support and arming of oppressed Imperial minorities."

 

[Djorn Bline]

V E N O M _ S N A K E
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
Konrad Harrsk

His insufferable reputation preceded him when his mouth opened. Lack of respect towards him, and complete disregard to rank. The makings of a poor, immature soldier no matter how skilled he was in combat. Arrogant and insubordinate. Characteristics that shouldn't have no place in Imperial society. Djorn held dear to military ceremonial and traditions, always saluting the rank of those superior to his own. Further proof of how incompetently trained and educated the Felist SA-groups were, equally as worse as the Palleonists.

High ironic if the bastard subscribed to that certain Imperial doctrine.

"I don't work to accomplish your wants and needs, Harrsk," Snake remarked at the Shadow, glaring with his one good, right eye as the other was covered with an eyepatch. The only interest he had in the Warlords were those that followed Tarkin ideals and political values, although making sure he had an iron fist around them to work in behalf of his interests while funding their authority with COMPNOR's deep pockets.

Ironic, he was a bureaucrat; the very thing he abhorred.

"I was told that very recently you ordered a crowd of people to kneel before the Emperor; all but you kneeled," disgusted that in this new age of the Order, people would bow to a sovereign figure that could command the power of the Force. Djorn bent the knee to the dark powers of the Sith, and he was never expected or ordered to kneel before the late Sovereign Imperator. All that was expected was a salute to the man and nothing more than that; behave and act like a soldier to Tavlar. This Order was built and bled for the common Imperial, never to bow down before any sort of Force User.

"Already power tripping, or are you that good of a lapdog?"

 

[Kovacs]

FROSTBITTEN
IMPERIAL MADE vol. I
Issue #2 w/ Gat Tambor Aiko Hayata Don Belkora

If someone had told him he was going to be personally meeting Gat Tambor on Ord Mantell today, Jon would've personally accompanied the man to the nearest Azrael Asylum. Sadly, when it came to COMPNOR commissars, the pilot hardly had the authority to do so. Wasn't the first time they knocked on his door, wouldn't be the last given the Decree and all the Wheeler-born pilot could do was just abide. There was fun to it - the whole undercover persona granting a wider degree of freedom - but that only came when you ignore the evident risk to his hide.

Last thing he expected when he slid through the door into the Trade Feds' hangar was to hear the sound of a broken compressor whirring to life from Tambor's mouth or whatever vocal device the Skakoan was using to communicate. His jaw dropped seeing the alien in person and words escaped his lips before his brain could script them through, "You''re the guy my dad tells me owns the money printer--" Jon's voice faded away when his brain came to function again. Just a moment away from asking the Skakoan to print some for him too. Iced caf prices had never been so high before.

The pilot hardly had anything to say about his visit to Ord Mantell. Place was a dump - you look around everywhere and there's an angry looking man squatting with a beer in hand and an ugly stare. The women, though, pretty as they were, had been far more open to, uh... foreign intrusion. That's if you could deal with the aftermath of a rabid dude chasing you down with a baseball bat. Risk and reward, risk and reward.

Speaking of which-- his sunglasses fell down the bridge of his nose -- Jon wouldn't mind risking it all for the Atrisian. If looks could kill, he was already dead twice over. The moustache spook who'd brought him here probably thought the same, and as he drew out a pack of Corellian Blue, Jon would follow suit in lighting one up after the usual handshake of introductions.

Putting his sunglasses into the pocket of his sports blazer, Jon took a drag of the cig and spoke, "I'm gonna be frank, Mr. Tambor, if you want guns runnin' to the Core now--" he pointed at the Corellian freighter behind the two corpoheads, "--that's not gonna cut it. Core fellas ain't buyin' no more a Corellian make comin' from this side of the galaxy." scrubbing his chin, he adds, "Runnin' them from here's something that can be avoided though... see, maybe, if we drop 'em from Chiss space... with all that's goin' out there, there's a good chance we can get skipped... thing is - it's gonn' cost more--" he glances at the COMPNOR officer, "-- and take more time... and you've got pirate goons to worry about."

"Where are we droppin' the goods anyway?"

 

[Gat Tambor]

L O R D _ O F _ W A R
DIRECTOR
TRADE FEDERATION
Aiko Hayata | Don Belkora | Jon Kovacs​

---

<"Huh? It's you all that want guns run to the Core, I'm rather impartial on the matter. However, your kind erm...commander has made doing business in the Core by legal means quite difficult. But I suppose that's more my fault than anything else."> Too many eggs in one baskets, too many Imperial side assets, not enough Alliance side assets. Luckily, Hayata would help change that soon enough.

<"Mr Kovacs. I appreciate your input but it is quite...shortsighted. Your route has been chosen for you. The destination of this first shipment is in fact, Carida. This is both a blessing and a curse, it's close and thus, it will be a quick job...however, it is also on the Imperial border. The Alliance could very well have begun to reinforce their Naval presence in the area but...with how fast their bureaucracy works...I...I honestly wouldn't worry about it. With the Hyperspace war demanding the bulk of Imperial and Alliance naval forces, it has come to the onus of the Trade Defense Force to ensure commerce remains steady and thus, our clearance and inspection codes are as good as any. This vessel was inspected or rather- will be inspected in sixteen galactic standard hours from now on Tirahnn."> Gat says before he looks towards one of the datapads on the control area desk before handing it and a copy to Kovacs and Belkora.

<"It won't be, but the records will say that you have the same weight and specifications in cargo of weapons in...agricultural equipment repair parts. If a manifest is ever requested of your cargo, you will produce this. You picked up your load on Tirahnn, Silver Jedi Concord space and you took the best route you knew, which is of course, the Daragon Trail, which you will jump unto from Raithal and make way for Carida. While of course, Imperial authorities officially do not allow Silver Jedi commerce vessels to travel through this hyper lane, my analytics show that roughly 80% of the ships that hop the borders from Silver to Imperial to Alliance space do so without a hitch, thus, it is a believable narrative."> More than likely due to the demands of the war in Chiss space.

<"That should be all your grounds covered. This should not be a very difficult job for you, Mister Kovacs. But others certainly will be. Now, Mister Belkoa. Both Miss Hayata and I have plenty of shipments ready to go, so long as your agency can commit to a bulk buy order of our collective stock headed for the Core. Though, if anyone has any further questions, do not relent."> He iterates before finally twisting the methane intake knob of his atmo suit to breath in.

 

[Aiko Hayata]

BYOO|Rhen Var|Arms dealing
AIKO HAYATA,CEO OF HAYATA CORP
TAGS//: Gat Tambor Don Belkora Jon Kovacs

​

"I would hope a gunrunner such as yourself would realize the profit to be made in such a...operation," Aiko remarked observantly, almost teasingly in her tone as she looked at Kovacs and the spook. No doubt the mustachioed spook had no qualms at all about shipping guns; being dirty was Compnors speciality, and in some sense, they were not that far removed from the criminals they sometimes hunted.

"I will allow my help in seeing that these gifts reach their intended owners, I own a big stake in shipping and commercial routes going in and out of the core along with my own personal contacts in the underworld, you'll get your guns through but what is there to say this will not end with a team of spooks outside my office and an outstanding warrant at the end of it all?"

She exhaled calmly and leaned back in her chair, folding her arms and resting against the leather recliner. The spook with glasses may have been motivated by ideology, but at the deep core of it all, Belkora was still a criminal just with a mopped up sanitised image. And Kovacs was your typical petty little gunrunner, who was to be the glue of such a grandiose project as proposed by Belkora. It would be a real disappointment if Kovacs failed.

"That'd be inconvenient, I'd say, wouldn't you agree, Gat."

 

[Aurelian Sigismund]

Aurelian Sigismund
High Imperator, Princeps and Shield of Vandemar, Grandmaster of the Legions​

✠ Objective: I. Blizzard

✠ Location: Rhen Var System, Approaching Rhen Var Orbit, The Phalanx

✠ Gear: Mantle, Urizen, Lancer

✠ Assets: The Phalanx

✠ Tag(s): Noel Strasza , DECEASED Erskine Barran

​

The High Imperator had arrived a few minutes before the Lord General, the Praetorians of his Agema waiting outside of the conference room. His heavy steps were accompanying his approach towards the Lord Executor who he had probably not yet met in person. Clad in his full plate armor, he offered an intimidating look, celestial and deadly, professional and devoted.

"Lord Executor." Aurelian offers a stiff but decently deep nod.

He would move to place himself on the seat, a slightly more durable looking, opposite of where DECEASED Erskine Barran would sit himself down in a few moments to come. The large sheathed sword would stand tall next to him, most likely towering above ordinary sized humans sitting nearby, his hand in a relaxed manner on the pommel as he would wait for the official part to start.

There was no time for any awkwardness as the commander of the Nirauan defenses entered accompanied by a large feline pet. Aurelian offered a more sincere and friendly nod towards the Galidranii. Hearing his kind and respectful words.

"Thank you. It was a challenge and one we failed, underestimating the Maw. Zachariel Steelblood was a formidable adversary for as much as a beast can be called that. Imperator Tassar is the best my world has to offer, I did not expect anything less from him, young or not. The next engagement will not be so chaotic and play to our advantages instead."

With a very slight smile he would offer a nod and his huge gauntlet would reach over the table and take the flask to drink as well.

"We drink to comradeship and our victory."

​

 

[Kovacs]

FROSTBITTEN
IMPERIAL MADE vol. I
Issue #2 w/ Gat Tambor Aiko Hayata Don Belkora

Man, they had it all figured, huh?

Blue milk run that even C-3PO could pull. Of course, he wasn't going to tell 'em that - not with the COMPNOR spook around; Jon liked the additional payment coming up from spec ops duty. Sure, it was nothing compared to what a real smuggler would take home but Jon somehow didn't dig trying to play the Atrisian baddie with the moustache man next to him. She really did think he was just a sleazy gunrunner, huh? But, oh man, would he take her on a ride with his TIE. You'd be asking for more, toots.

Shrugging, he simply added, "Works for me." his eyes then turned to Belkora; addressing Miss Hayata's concerns and Mr Tambor's propositions were COMPNOR's authority. Not his.

 

[Konrad Harrsk]

"A shame, Bline. If you were - this Empire would be in a better place." he stretched his arms, turning his eyes away from the insufferable irritation at his door. Konrad reached for the dagger on his desk and casually played with it in his hands. It was the only way he could stay awake listening to Djorn's accusatory drivel. "...but I digress, I'll suffer through your pestiferous presence, seeing as I'll fall asleep if I don't, so..."

"...have you come here to suggest the subjects of the Empire are not to kneel before the Sovereign?" an eyebrow was raised. Tread carefully, dog.

Djorn Bline

 

[Don Belkora]

DON BELKORA
COMPNOR
NEW IMPERIAL ORDER
Tags: Aiko Hayata Gat Tambor Jon Kovacs

Danger zone​

"It can be done, and I wouldn't worry about us Miss, I've seen the reports of what you do to people who cross your clan," Belkora shrugged his shoulders and smiled at Aiko's Stoney face, he knew her type all too well, and he'd seen the reports. Men and women turning up stuffed in barrels and left outside spaceports, entire families vanishing, businesses going up in flames. She was a wolf in sheep's clothing among the business world, and still hadn't quite left the world in which the Hayata family heralded out of. He might've been an evil spook, but at least he had no qualms about what he was and did; Hayata was just another vicious cartel boss beneath the public image.


"Gat ain't gotta worry about my agencies support, you'll see your shipments protected and if need be waivered of any and all legal repercussions, the SIA are just a glorified detective agency in this game."

 

[Gat Tambor]

L O R D _ O F _ W A R
DIRECTOR
TRADE FEDERATION
Aiko Hayata | Don Belkora | Jon Kovacs​

---

In response to Aiko's concern of COMPNOR agents raiding the offices of either Hayata or the Trade Federation, Gat could only offer up a hearty, guttural and terrifying laugh in response. The Empire would know better than to bite the hand that feeds. At least, he'd hope they'd know better. It wasn't uncommon in totalitarian regimes to be on the good side of the ruling party one day and to be face down in the cargo compartment of a passenger speeder with two blaster bolts behind their head dead by 'suicide'.

<"The Empire has been nothing but amicable in our partnership to this point, if occasionally difficult to work with at times. Regardless, there is no reason to disrupt what should be a prosperous relationship to this point. But even so, I still need your agency to commit to the orders from my corporations and that of Miss Hayata. If you expect the Trade Federation to violate inter Galactic trade laws and possibly but implicit in conspiracy to commit terrorist acts, you will need to foot the bill."> Gat Tambor iterated before gesturing to the datapad in the man's hand.

<"The terms are within, you can present your signature here as consent to purchase and will forward the charges to the Committee of Improvements. But know, that as time goes on, save for a change in policy from the Emperor which...well, I don't anticipate, these shipments will increase in difficulty over time. For a time, Mister Kovacs and his peers will be able to hop the Galactic borders with ease and complete all their assignments on schedule. As this war continues and the Alliance is strained further under destabilization, that will not be the case and the expertise of your pilots will shoulder the burden of the work. "> He said.