Star Wars Roleplay: Chaos

Register a free account today to become a member! Once signed in, you'll be able to participate on this site by adding your own topics and posts, as well as connect with other members through your own private inbox!

Hey all, it's the sector pub crawl! [First Order T3 Dominion of New Balosar Hex]

Progflaw99

Well-Known Member
3NmzRJv.png
[ img source ]​
--- --- ---
Location: Balustrad, New Balosar
Objective: Partake in the Sector Pub Crawl
Post (1)
--- --- ---
"The Colony Club" on New Balosar was the first stop of several on the agenda. Weeks ago, there had been a dispatch released to the upper echelon as well as the very dregs of the First Order - a sponsored First Order Pub Crawl, generating funds for the war effort. It was a last ditch hurrah as the forces of the First Order mobilized, the last bit of shore leave members of the military and even some of the other government agencies were guaranteed before they were assigned and deployed to various regions across First Order Space. The event had been publicized to all civilian and military entities, the government actively pushing their staff to attend - war was usually a long and lackluster affair and what better way to send them off with the time of their lives?

Already the ships had landed, a private fleet of shuttles collectively parked at the nearby spaceport had been chartered as transportation to prevent any hazardous circumstances in which any intoxicated participants would have to pilot - such things were to be avoided at any and all costs. Rolf Amsel had managed to snag a ride in one of the shuttles which carried some of the top tier faces of the First Order, [member="Natasi Fortan"], Major Eldrel, and [member="Lydia Finn-Camden"] were only a few of the faces he recognized as he'd boarded but now that they had finally landed, he was sure he would recognize more. They had yet to walk the few blocks to "The Colony Club" - it would allow them a decent opportunity to witness just another of the Cities near First Order space, almost a vacation of sorts.

The itinerary spoke to at least three stops along the way. Starting with "The Colony Club" here on New Balosar, their journey was to continue after a few hours time back to the shuttles and off towards Quesaya to an establishment called "The Jumping Rocket", a sort of steampunk style venue, capitalizing on a retro-space theme. After drinks there, they would head towards a little known hole in the wall called "The Cormorant", the main attraction at the Valknut Mining Facility located on Chalcedon. How it had ended up on the list no one really knew but then again, no one really knew what it was either - they would find out eventually. To wrap up the evening of hedonism, a private cruiser had been chartered, the shuttles easily fitting inside the luxury vessel's hangar bay. Their final destination was near the Llon Nebulae. A scenic party room spanning almost a good half of the vessel's hull left a wide viewport through which the multi-colored Llon Nebulae could be observed, also equipped with a fully operational bar and pre-arranged rooms for the attendees, it would be a wonderful place to end the night. The vessel itself was called the "Mkubto" - named after a chain of islands located on Mon Cala, the vessel was in fact a refitted MC80 Star Cruiser which now had a minimum of weapon emplacements, effectively turning it into a floating pleasure barge. The final destination, the Mkubto had a sprawling array of options for entertainment from a gentleman's club to a completely equipped spa. To say it was grand would have been the understatement of the year.

No doubt some of the attendees had done some research before the event but for those who hadn't, their day of adventure was about to begin. Of course it was entirely up to each individual whether they dined at "The Colony Club" or opted to find street food, but Rolf guessed the more socialites among them would join them all for food at the club. As the final alert was given by the Captain of their shuttle, the Major reached down and unclipped his safety belt, standing in the shuttle and stretching. No uniforms today - clad in a comfortable pair of denim trousers, a soft gray T, and a light leather jacket, he even sported a shadow of facial hair - regulations were conveniently looked over. It felt strange, but relaxing to be free of the stiff collared uniform he usually sported, and he felt like he could let down his emotional guard, at least partially. The last few months had been really tough for a lot of them, to be able to simply exist was a welcome break from the formality of it all. Catching the eye of the reporter who'd been strangely present more often than not, he smiled before posing a playful question to the woman.
"Ready to get this party started?"
---
T3 Dominion of New Balosar Hex
Objectives:
1. Have fun, enjoy the 4 stage thread! Initially we will be starting with either street food or lunch at "The Colony Club" though if you choose to be elsewhere, that's okay too!

2. Continue rebuilding efforts on Kaeshana, cleanup or construction of new structures is encouraged!
3. Perform Sector Patrols in the area, attempt to intercept illegal shipments of slaves headed to and from Chalcedon. Shutdown Trade lanes and perform inspections.
4. BYOO - Have fun!
OOC Note: Feel free to start at other locations or drop in/out at whichever pub locations you'd like. While guided, I can't make you go someplace you'd rather not, so feel free to drop wherever you'd like. For reference, I'll go ahead and paste the descriptions of the planned locations below - sans the final destination that will be the final stop along the route - that will be described in full upon actual arrival. I will also be posting an ooc thread for discussion/those interested.

Descriptions:

(1. New Balosar - The Colony Club (Balustrad)
2. Quesaya - The Jumping Rocket (Rocket City)
3. Chalcedon - The Cormorant (Valknut Mining Facility)
4. Llon Nebulae - romantic cruise past the nebulae - perfect for some final whiskey and poor decisions.)
Primary Locations (in order of appearance)

“The Colony Club” : Located in a high end district of Balustrad, one of the major cities on New Balosar. Taking after Balosar proper, the main export of New Balosar is deathsticks. While the homeworld of Balosar had become overwhelmed with pollution, New Balosar was a marvel, especially Balustrad. The city itself contained some of the highest tech anti-pollution tech available on the market, given the high number of industrial facilities towards the exterior of the city, Balustrad is one of the premier producers of high end deathsticks as well as standard tobacco due to the farms stretching all across the Northern reaches of the city. An additional product produced by these farms is the famed “Balo mushroom” grown in a subterranean cave network which sprawls beneath the city itself. .

The Colony Club is located in the downtown area, its venue an old bank building. As part of its decorative flair, the owners never saw fit to change the interior and as such it maintains a classy feel, well adjusted to the grandiose nature of Balustrad’s residents. The main lobby opens up into an ornate room, gold and silver adornments coupled with a healthy collection of skylights above create an almost heavenly aura during the day, and at night a beautiful view of the unfettered vastness of space. Tables fill the room, a kind of ‘high dining’ establishment taking up the largest portion of the first level, though around towards the back of the tables there is a wide hallway leading towards the vaults. The doors have been cast open and instead of deposit boxes, a fully operational bar touting liquors and beers from across the galaxy is set up, staffed by men in what appear to be older style garb, the vest and pocket-watch style. Behind the teller windows, what used to be a first level administrative area has been refitted with cooking appliances, the windows once used to exchange money instead used to deliver food to the wait staff. To the left upon entry, there is a slightly elevated stage space, a live band featuring instruments from an older time adds a bit of livery to the place - the raw sounds of music creating a very ‘alive’ atmosphere. Above the main floor on the upper levels in what used to be administration, the offices have been replaced with hotel rooms - most lavish suites although there are also solo rooms for those who have an eye for saving money.

“The Jumping Rocket” : Located in Rocket City, an urban sprawl of high towers and streamlined architecture, “The Jumping Rocket” is one of many such establishments throughout the city but it certainly has its own unique flair. Modeled in brass and neutral tan colors, it would almost be considered steampunk or retro in design. Artwork hangs on the walls and even the signs and furniture are somewhat dated bringing a true sense of ownership to those who enter its doors. A friendly barkeep along with some additional staff serve drinks at the polished wooden bar.
As one could guess, “The Jumping Rocket” is a home away from home for various spacers and smugglers though they tend to keep the majority of the riff-raff out due to their moderate pricing. Certainly not as grandiose as some of the establishments in Rocket City, it still manages to draw its own following of loyal customers. In the back, a wide room is filled with sabacc tables and even a few ancient arcade games along one wall. Kind of an afternoon hangout - the venue changes drastically as soon as the sun sets. Towards evening, a plethora of women typically are staffed, one piece retro space atire their uniform. Though not official, there is dancing in the open area of the floor and a small karaoke machine located in the corner.

“The Cormorant” : Located at the Valknut Mining facility, seedy doesn’t even begin to describe the grunge that is “The Cormorant”. Not even a proper establishment by many standards it has become the focal point for all recreation at the mining facility, miners, spacers, and even some of the mercenaries call this place home - a significant amount of their earnings spent here whether at the sabacc tables along the streets or at the circular street bar. “The Cormorant” is located in the center of a wide crossroads near the billeting area, imported entertainers a staple of the venue, small elevated platforms lining each corner of the crossroads where human and alien women dance alike. Above the bar is what you could call a VIP lounge, scantily clad women of varying races tasked with entertaining the guests there as well as sell overpriced liquor to the likely ogling occupants. While located in a crossroads, it is an interior section of the facility with no external view - most decidedly a shady location - figures lurking in the shadows, illicit sales so commonplace the mercenaries don’t even bother enforcing any of the anti-drug restrictions placed by the mine’s owners.
[member="Asharad Graush"] | [member="Irajah Ven"] | [member="Torian Pierce"] | [member="Valessia Brentioch"] | [member="Mishel Ren"] | [member="Kaalia Voldaren"]
[member="Pierce Fortan III"] | [member="Daska Tess"] | [member="FN-888"] | [member="Kyrel Ren"] | [member="Zmej Ren"] | [member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="Sara Lee Jones"]​
[member="Aran Piett"] | [member="Garett Van"] | [member="Darth Prazutis"] | [member="Darth Carnifex"] | [member="Malok"] | [member="Jarven Zexxel"] | [member="Ara Ren"] | [member="Hector Finn-Camden"]​
[member="BE-183"] | [member="Nisha Skaiyr"] | [member="Gunther Creed"] | [member="Cain Olper"] | [member="Carlyle Rausgeber"] | [member="Samka Derith"]​
[member="Jaya Tandris"] | [member="Nils Brenner"] | [member="Sig Avenir"] | [member="Connor Harrison"] | @Anyone I forgot :D
 

Dunames Lopez

Megalomaniac CEO of Star Tours
Location: Kaeshana
Objective: Rebuild the Kaeshana spaceport
Allies: First Order
Enemies: Unknown
Post: 1/38

After this cruise that took its patrons from Commenor to Zeltros and then on to Yutan, Dunames had to return to First Order space with all haste. Which means that they were urgently needed to be flown back to First Order space, using something smaller than the Traquia to be doing that work just right. Because, at the onset, Santaissa won't be much of a city, the tarmac being able to accommodate one 200m ship would be enough to satisfy their needs. It's mostly a repeat of the whole Rakata Beta plan: repair the tarmac, then (re-)build the terminal; the whole city was laid waste to during the Kaeshana Campaign. Everything needs to be rebuilt, but the spaceport is the entry point for all other supplies unless other interested parties wanted to air-drop them from low-altitude. Here, using one of the many Dennari-class ships Star Tours flies, she finally sees the devastation around Santaissa for herself. Thank the Force that Star Tours wasn't a party in the Kaeshana campaign! she thought, while initiating the landing sequence a little to the south of the devastated city.

"We have arrived over Kaeshana, captain" Merrily told Dunames.

"Good, Merrily, let's hope that we can avoid the pitfalls befalling Rakata Beta and not to build in proportions that would make the white elephant designation a reality. Landing sequence initiated"

"There's a wrecked Star Destroyer in a cliff near Santaissa, so be careful"

"Roger, roger, will land near Santaissa"
 
Objective: 3
Location: Near Chalcedon
Post: 1


A fish unable to escape the fisherman’s nest, yet searching for a way out, one freighter did all it could to change its course upon being interrupted by a heavily armed Star Destroyer while travelling away from Chalcedon, only to receive several TIE fighters to escort it to safety – that is, the bigger ship’s loving embrace. Weapons down, shields off, it eventually complied without ever trying to foolishly outgun the behemoth. Soon enough, the cargo ship welcomed many new visitors. Sweat poisoned the heavy air with foul odour as twenty rough looking men and women stood in a perfect line, arranged by rank. Six white-clad soldiers stood with their rifles relaxed, though the Force clearly gave away the inner readiness to change that should it prove necessary. The military uniformity starkly clashed against the crew’s individualism, two entirely different groups having their first date. Fortunately enough, the crew knew better than to pick a fight, resistance would be met with lethal force if necessary.

“You have been randomly selected for a routine inspection.” A balding officer sporting the First Order’s clandestine uniform croaked a phrase he had repeated hundreds of times. As the men under his command either kept the crew in sight or searched for illegal contraband, he was about to question the smaller ship’s captain about his strange, most suspicious attitude upon meeting the First Order’s forces.

Perhaps the captain believed himself clever. He had been through similar searches before, never found guilty of illegal activities – the numerous secret compartments built into his ship had yet to fail him. Still, there was a twinge of anxiety vibrating through the Force, its origin in his very heart, when someone clearly unaffiliated with the military decisively marched in. Heavy thuds of metal boots clanking against the freighter’s floor echoed through the corridors even before the cloaked, hooded figure graced the captain’s sight. Dressed in plates, definitely someone prepared for war rather than routine inspection, the masked being regarded the captives with a silent stare for a few unbearably long minutes before slowly and methodically searching one room after another. Beads of sweat formed on the captain’s forehead. As most sentients, he had heard tales about Sith and Jedi. Their exploits were legendary; suddenly there was a memory of himself as a young boy, hungrily listening to such stories and wishing he could meet a Jedi.

Those were simpler times. Before his ideals died to the scent of credits and illegal trade.

He never would have imagined the meeting to go like this. All that rumours concerning the mysterious Jedi and Sith abilities flooded his mind and he wished there was no spice on his ship. Worse yet; slaves, five Twi’leks he was supposed to sell to the Hutts. A silent curse parted his lips once the mysterious sentient appeared again, something glossy in their hand. Eyes shut closed, the captain continued to throw mental insults at himself and his crew, the slaves, the people who got him into slave trade, everyone in the entire galaxy. He knew exactly what he was going to see in the Jedi’s – Sith’s? – hand.

Despite its small size, the vial held incredible value - filled to the brim with high quality spice.
 
Wandering Naval Officer
------------------------------------------------​
Objective: 3​
Location Llon Nebulae​
FIV Indomitable Resurgent Class​
[member="Sara Lee Jones"]​
----------------------------------------------------​
Aran looked out from the bridge of his Resurgent class, still damaged from the beating it took, it would be awhile till she could be repaired fully. Things were quiet in the Nebulae, but that didn't mean things could get busy anytime soon. There was some intelligence that some of the slave runners used it to hide from patrols in the area. Aran couldn't help but look at his new rank plaque, he was just used to being a Commander now he was promoted to Captain. It came with a price though, so many lost in the fighting, those still weighed on Aran's thoughts, but he did his job, and with that job came sacrifices. The nebulae was a sight to be seen though so many beautiful colors from the gasses, things could be peaceful, if it weren't for the job they were sent here to do.​
 
------------------------------------------------
Objective: 3
Location Llon Nebulae
FIV Indomitable Resurgent Class
[member="Aran Piett"]
----------------------------------------------------

She had her men double check and triple check fighters, she had brought six with her...the rest she had relented to the request of them and allowed them to go enjoy the pub crawl, they needed it, besides all she had with her was recruits that needed to start out

She had finished her report and entered the bridge she gave a slight smile then back to business face as she approached beside him

all fighters are ready to launch at your command captain Piett
 
tMK6qGj.png

REPAIR DEPOT <CRESH>
KAESHANA

-Objective II-
-Post I-


As both sides began recuperating after the Battle of Kaeshana, the First Order was quick to set up its restoration projects on Kaeshana after the disastrous battle. It had ravaged the planet too greatly for both sides to find any benefit in the end. The world was nothing special, it was no Coruscant, no Corellia, no Axxila. Just some world in the middle of the Outer Rim and so much blood had been shed for it that even Kad was surprised.

His service on Kaesha todaya was on the temporarily erected repair depot <Cresh> that was to serve in salvaging and repairing operations. Something the sergeant had grown up doing. He had been busy all day arguing with many others such as him to halt scrapping vehicles and starships if they had a bit more damage on them. Everything was valuable. He had found out that ages ago as a child in the scrap yards of Coruscant's Works.

"No." Kad said bluntly to the mechanic who was frantically showing all the damage on the hull of a vehicle. "We can fix that."

"Fix it ?! Have you gone mad ?"

"No. We'll re-purpose it if we have to."

"To what ? Look at it. It has no shape!"

"Aight, I heard they need more barges to carry things around. Take anything valuable - slightly dented hulls, cut them up, smash those that are a complete disaster. Rip out any electronics inside. When there's literally just junk left - smash it flat. I am sure we've got a repulsor engine somewhere around here. Weld it beneath and you got yourself a repulsor barge." Kad explained and then dismissed the man. Not that he was in charge in here. Absolutely not. Yet, he was shaking his head at the complete waste of resources. The least he could do was try and save as many salvageable materials as possible.

That's, of course, before a superior came and reprimanded him for bossing around.





 
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=KCkmIyC6v00

Objective: Numero Uno. Getting this party started.
Post: Eins.

Captain Rexus Wenck was all about two things. Drinking and shagging. The stormtrooper usually spent his nights off duty, drinking and soliciting less than appropriate company, and then waking the next morning with a raging headache and an empty wallet. For the stormtrooper this experience was a new one. Now he wasn't drinking with "the lads". He was within prim and proper company. So, he was attired for the occassion. Maroon, Dewback leather jacket, the least greasy shirt he could find. It was white, with small blue waves and green bras patterned all over it. Finishing it all of was a pair of fancy slacks he'd stolen from one of his mothers johns.

Sauntering along with him was Sergeant Dergan Twigg, a man whom Rexus had ironically enough tried to glass in a bar fight little under a decade ago. Twigg was also poorly attired. A bright yellow top with some obscene logo from a Coruscanti Cantina band and a pair of ratty trousers. "So this is it then?" Twigg asked as he walked towards the broad structure, "The Colony Club. Don't look like much."

"Eh, if this is where they're having a Grand Moff eat, it's probably gonna be noice." Rexus replied, "Can't judge a, what was that saying again?" Twigg shrugged, "Look, looks are trickery, ain't they? Could be real nice inside is all I'm saying." Rexus snapped, frustrated at his lack of grasp upon metaphors. The shabby looking duo walked through the doors of the club, and immediately looked around it, "Where do you think the others are?"


[member="Rolf Amsel"]
 
3NmzRJv.png
Post: 1

After Kaeshana and everything that had happened there, a good solid carouse was called for.

Doctor's Orders.

Irajah Ven stepped off of one of the shuttles, stretched for a moment. Her ribs still ached slightly after the crash, but by and large she was healed up and happy to simply be out of the medical bay for a day or two before heading back to Panatha. She'd spent less time there of late, with all of the casualties, but she'd make up for the missed research. A couple days a week there was growing more and more obvious as not nearly sufficient, but what else could she do? She had other research, a job- and, on rare occasions such as this, an day off.

Dark curls bounced around her pale face as she walked cheerfully into the The Colony Club. Hazel eyes flickered around. She knew that others she had met would be here, she just hadn't come in with any of them. Fortunately, that didn't bother her over much. Dressed in a casual high necked tunic and leggings, she headed promptly over to the bar.

The bartender looked up at her, putting both hands on the counter and grinning. She smirked broadly in return.

"What can I get for you Miss?"

​She tilted her head slightly, scanning the bar behind him.

"Whatever you consider your personal specialty cocktail to be," she said, hoping up onto one of the barstools. She knew that they were going to be having lunch here, but she was happy to wait until more people showed up.

He winked, tossing a glass in the air and catching it behind his back.

"You've just ordered nothing less than a Tatooine Sunburn, Ma'am. Sure you can handle it?"

Irajah's grin widened. "If I can't, I'm not driving, so we'll find out now won't we?"
 
Objective: 1
Post: 1

Alright sir
Sure I'll have another one it's early
Three olives, shake it up, I like it dirty (dirty)
Tequila for my friend it makes her flirty (flirty)
Trust me



The flight to New Balosar had been hell. She was pretty sure the pilot had taken extreme pleasure in making the landing more rocky than it needed to be. Ara would have to make sure she requested a new transport home. Somehow she'd managed to make it through the flight without throttling anyone, including her friend and tonight's designated 'babysitter', [member="Kaalia Voldaren"].

The Colony Club was deep in the downtown of Balustrad, the imposing figure of the old bank building towering over the two women. They were here to enjoy one last party before war broke out, and maybe help with salvages as needed. Most likely, just the former. To be on the safe side, the Disciple had chosen an outfit for comfort and business should the need arise. Black was the theme of the day. Black jacket, black blouse, black belt, black skin tight pants, and knee high boots with chunky heels. She'd left her cloak on the ship, but her lightsaber hilt was tucked discreetly in an inside pocket of the jacket. It never hurt to be on the safe side.

Ara grinned wickedly and linked an arm around Kaalia, leaning her head on the younger girl's shoulder. "Are you sure you don't want a drink? It's going to be a long night." She chuckled as they entered the building, taking in the opulence and splendor of the wholly untouched interior. The gold and silver glimmered in the shafts of light let in by the large skylights. Her grinned widened and she released Kaalia, intent on making her way directly to the bar in the back. At some point they'd be enjoying a nice lunch, but for now, she needed brandy.

The music that echoed through the club from the band off to the left added a sway to her step. Turning around to face her friend, she ran her hands through her hair, letting it cascade loose down her back. "Come on, Kaalia, let's grab a drink before everyone else arrives!"
 

Dunames Lopez

Megalomaniac CEO of Star Tours
Location: Kaeshana
Objective: Rebuild the Kaeshana spaceport
Allies: First Order
Enemies: Unknown
Post: 2/38

Even the outskirts of Santaissa was littered with debris: given the size of the space battle that took place in orbit, if the reports were to be believed, it was not surprising to her, especially since several battlecruisers were involved, with at least five Star Destroyers that took heavy damage, at least two of which are destroyed outright. It was a scrapper's paradise not unlike Ord Ibanna's golden days, if only temporary. Finding a spot where a tarmac large enough to land that required little cleaning work to render operational would not be easy. She would not be deterred, but the main landmass was mountaineous and the prime candidate for a location was some distance away from Santaissa, the only settlement of note. Of course, that could cause some transit problems. But it wasn't the business of some 900-year-old droid to spot what went wrong with that spaceport location. Sure, NIMBYs are major things to happen when it comes to transportation infrastructure, pretty much everywhere, but that was one of the necessary evils.

"It appears that the good locations are so far away from Santaissa that a shuttle service would be required, in which case I would like to place an order for six Ocktor trucks or so, with equally many bus trailers"

"Rush or not?"

"I am a little surprised that First Order regulations allow speeders with bus trailers, but there is no rush"

"Roger, roger"
 
Objective: 3
Location: Near Chalcedon
Post: 2


“Do you know the penalty for smuggling spice?” stated the figure monotonously, waving the vial in front of the captain’s face. The brightly coloured, sand-like substance soundlessly rattled inside in mockery of the man’s failure to smuggle it. Gulping, the man shrugged, unable to form words of apology or explanation, for he understood such attempts would be futile with evidence speaking against him. Better to show humility and repentance for what it was worth. Without pursuing the conversation further, the Force sensitive strode off – right where the secret compartment full of slaves hid away from prying eyes. This was the end. He knew it. Anticipation of the inevitable broke his spirit, turning the hardened man into a fearful little boy. Although he possessed zero idea of how finding his Twi’lek merchandise would be possible, it did nothing to crack the terrible premonition that grew stronger with each passing second, becoming a certainty once the first enslaved woman started speaking.

Slave collars continued to adorn their necks when the procession walked past the detained crew, exchanging silent glances from one another as the former slaves looked towards freedom – the freighter’s crew not so much. As the last woman disappeared from sight, the plated warrior returned, each of the twenty crew members receiving a hard stare. Ultimately, the perceived guilt in combination with silent treatment said more than thousands of words. Brisk pace brought the plated man or woman right up to the rabble’s leader, who could not bring himself to glance into the cold, emotionless mask. It became apparent to him that his interrogator lacked in height. In fact, he’d bet the armour concealed a mere child inside its shell.

“It’s not what it looks like…,” started the captain meekly, his excuses cut short by the spice-filled vial crushing against his temple.

Even after he fell down, surprised, bleeding, the attack refused to cease, each hit causing massive bells to start ringing inside his head. One clubbing blow followed by another, the vial made of reinforced glass kept hammering his skull. First cracks on its bulbous surface appeared long after red erased all transparent properties it might have had. The captain’s head changed accordingly, shape becoming less and less human. He did not voice a single protest, speech pattern reduced to moans and yelps. With unending brutality, the attacker did not relent, bringing the glass upon the lying man’s head one last time. A sickening crunch followed, crashing of glass, spice splilled everywhere – and in the midst of all, his eye, no longer imprisoned in the corresponding socket. Blood made a peculiar mixture with the dust-like substance, easily entering the man’s open head through the dark, gaping hole. According to the Force, the result caused particularly agonizing sensations. Enough to wake the man from his barely conscious slumber.

“Aaargh! It’s burning! Make it stop, I beg of you! My brain! It’s melting my brain!”

He clawed at the devastated flesh that used to be face, fingers tearing through as he dug deep into his head. To stop the behaviour that would ultimately lead to death, plated boot stamped on one hand, painfully pinning it to the freighter's floor, while the Force user's gauntleted grasp seized the other twitching limp and prevented further movement.

“I will make it stop – once you tell me everything about your nest on Chalcedon.”
 

Julius Thonn

Guest
Post One.
Chalcedon.
BYOO.

"So why did you bring us to Chalcedon again, Jules?"

"Yeah, there can't be much here for us. Like, we're not even from here, y'know? Why should we even care if there's slaves being shipped out from here?"

"Are you just going to ignore us?"

"Jules?"

"J.T?"

Julius opened his eyes, all of the chatter from his two friends having woken him up from his light sleep. He had heard their words, kind of, like, when you were in that half sleep and could hear what was going on around you, but you couldn't react to it because the grasp of sleep was too much? Yeah that. Pulling the hood off of his head, he rose up from his laid down position from the bunk as the freighter entered Chalcedon's orbit.

It was a passenger ship, dozens of other people were onboard who had booked cheap passage to Chalcedon through less... Legal means.

"Because," he said, but that was it as he stretched. No more information was offered.

"Because what?"

"You always do that!"

There was a shrug in response.

"Look, the people down there? They're just like the people back home." He looked to each of them. "Hard working people." He pointed to them both as he said, "Like your parents, your parents," and then his hand bent back towards him, thumb extended in his own direction, "and my parents. This is just the best way to help. To help all of them."

"But we always get caught!"

"Every time!" The other echoed.

"I was thinking of switching it up this time," Julius said with a grin.

A voice came over the ship's intercom. They were going to be landing in a few minutes.

And so they started collecting their stuff, however limited.
 
Objective 1
Post 1

"How can I make sure you don't get into too much trouble if I'm woozy myself? I'll stick to water and the like tonight so I can keep you... in sight. Also, I'm not letting you take advantage of the fact I can't judge things that well with alcohol in my system again. Not after the ball." An innocent smile was seen on Kaalia's face as she and [member="Ara Ren"] made their way towards the bar. The redhead by now was used to Ara's tendency to link arms and such, and as her friend returned to her habit, even leaning her head on the woman's shoulder, she just let it happen. She assumed it was to show her friendship and accepted it because of that. Not that she minded it.

Kaalia wore a simple outfit, as always. A light grey top was complemented by black trousers and black boots. Would the need arise to get work done without prior notice, the clothing wouldn't be in her way. Her sabers were hidden in two of the many pockets of her trousers, their forms not revealed. Would the need arise, they would be right where she needed them. The woman didn't expect to need them tonight, but it was better to be safe than sorry.

The Colony Club was a place with style. The old details of the former bank building were kept intact, giving it a feeling of class. The gold and silver adornments added to the aesthetic, and Kaalia found the club to be a place she'd visit regularly if she had the chance. The music that filled the building was quite nice as well, despite the style of it not being her first choice.

It seemed that Ara wanted to get a drink before the lunch. The redhead concealed a slight giggle at the sway in the step of her friend, another piece of evidence why the older one was also the more adventurous one. "I'm just getting some water myself, but let's go get you your drink."
 

Dunames Lopez

Megalomaniac CEO of Star Tours
Location: Kaeshana
Objective: Rebuild the Kaeshana spaceport
Allies: First Order
Enemies: Unknown
Post: 3/38

"The road network will also have to be rebuilt: it might be the result of the orbital battle, but the roads are in very poor condition"

"Do we have enough materials to rebuild the highway from here to Santaissa?"

"I'm afraid not"

"Merrily, please fetch the main road map of Kaeshana"

"Roger, roger"

And Merrily was correct: a tarmac big enough to accommodate one 200m x 200m landing zone would only have enough continuously reinforced duracrete to build about three kilometers of roads for use by tracked, wheeled or walker vehicles, four-lane with shoulders, which usually run 20 meters wide total. First Order construction codes for building such roads require them to be 28 centimeters thick, and the tarmac would be 45 cm thick. With that said, though, perhaps some existing road (provided said road could be repaved) could be connected to the spaceport, using the least amount of additional new roadwork. Clearly the spaceport won't have anything on even Cademimu-Flashpoint or Morellia-Derretowa, let alone the major spaceports of Coruscant, but Dunames had to build a lot smaller than on Rakata Beta, because the planet is much more sparsely populated. Here there was a new set of plans to be submitted to the First Order authorities, including the Ministry of Transportation. The reconstruction work on Kaeshana was only beginning...
 
Objective 1
Post 1

Kyrel had heard of this pub crawl, and decided he want in. His suit was recently repaired, and decided to set his personal demons with drinking his way through his pain. He saw a lot on Kaeshana and it both damaged it him, and yet made him into something more. It granted him his new promotion, and somehow thought this would be a good idea to interact with [member="Ara Ren"] and [member="Kaalia Voldaren"]. He in all intents and purposes considered them competition to him, and his attempts to become the supreme leader's enforcer. But they were just Disciples, and considered them no threat but found it to be a good idea to interact with them. He hardly knew them, and so decided to keep watch of the two of them if they decided to get into trouble that is.

He followed the two of them wearing, black robes, and his head was down. His saber was hidden deep within his robes just in case. He felt self conscious being without his suit, with it he had commanded a sense of intimidation, and loved the fear he got out of it. He looked at the two girls eyeing them carefully and not saying a word choosing to remain quiet. He walked the street, his mechanical limbs now back to their strength once more, and walked quickly trying to avoid stares from many people.

He walked into the Colony Club, it was quite a classy joint, and so enjoyed it's sophisticated look. What he wanted to do, or had plans to do was drink to his heart's content even till he passed out. He found the music entertaining, and the atmosphere overall enjoyable. He looked and saw the two disciples, he walked slowly and said nervously through his raspy tone. "Mind if I join you two disciples?"
 

Progflaw99

Well-Known Member
3NmzRJv.png
--- --- ---
Location: Balustrad, New Balosar
Objective: Partake in the Sector Pub Crawl
Post (2)
--- --- ---
Having since turned towards the boarding ramp, Rolf light-footedly brought himself down from the top, a slight bounce to his step. The weather was perfect, just cool enough that the jacket he wore wasn't excessive and just warm enough that if he really wanted to he could probably get by without it - quite temperate in comparison to the last few planetary bodies he'd been to. He breathed in deeply, the fresh smell of tobacco and industry filled the streets, a deep earthy odor. It was refreshing from the stale air of a respirator or that of recycled air on a starship. He felt alive.

Looking back to the others to see if they would follow, he did what came naturally and led - stepping off towards their destination, just a short jaunt down the street, a few blocks at best. The streets were alive with activity, people walking from storefront to storefront, elderly men sitting at tables outside what looked to be a smoke shop, even a barber stood just inside one of the storefronts, trimming away at a mop of hair. It brought an uncharacteristic smile to the man's face, being so disconnected from his work - Rolf loved his work, or at least he thought he did, but even the most determined workaholics had to let loose once in a while. The soft leather soles of his shoes took him comfortably down towards the restaurant, a few recognizable faces seemed to be standing near one of the intersections. Raising a hand and a shout, he took a few hurried steps towards them.

"Hey lads, welcome to New Balosar - pretty sweet place here, I'll have to treat you guys to a round of cigars on me!" He raised an eyebrow for a moment as he approached. "Wenck is it? Gundark Gunners right?" Extending a hand he introduced himself. "Please, call me Rolf, none of that Major stuff here, relax boys."
Motioning towards the ornate door of a storefront on the corner across the busy street, he posed to them both a question, looking to see if any other familiar faces cropped up.
"Shall we? I hear the cigars from here are to die for! Figuratively speaking of course."
[member="Rexus Wenck"] | [member="Lydia Finn-Camden"] | [member="Torian Pierce"] | [member="BE-183"]
 
Objective: 1
Post: 2

"Oh, the ball wasn't nearly as bad as you are making it out to be."

She smiled wickedly at her friend and winked. It had been a thoroughly entertaining evening, full of surprises. A shared secret had brought the two disciples even closer, their friendship becoming a surprising spot of light in the young Ren's life.

Ara was halfway to the bar with [member="Kaalia Voldaren"] hard on her heels when she felt a third, semi-familiar aura, approach. She turned to face the newcomer ([member="Kyrel Ren"]), her automatic, social smile plastered on her face. He was taller than both of the women, dressed in black robes similar to the ones she'd worn to meet with a potential recruit of the Ren. His robes and aura gave him away as one of their order, his words even more so.

Practice kept the smile in place as her gaze swept over the broken visage of the man in front of her. His face was dotted with craters and cracks, where once live flesh had been torn away in what she could only imagine was a horrific accident, or a particularly nasty duel. The skin between her eyebrows wrinkled in sympathy, her smile never wavering.

It took her a moment to place where she knew him from, but a glance from her peripheral vision jogged her memory. He had shared the dance floor with herself and Captain Draken during the Military Ball. He'd been in the company of a pretty young woman in a fiery dress, but tonight he was alone.

She nodded once, politely, curious as to his position within the order and knowledge of their rank and title.

"Of course, it is a public function after all. Unless, Kaalia objects?" She turned to her friend, her smile turning wicked as she put the younger Ren on the spot.

"We were just about grab drinks before lunch."

She turned on her heels and continued on towards the bar, glancing back once to make sure they both followed behind her. Sidling up to the bar, she smiled and nodded politely at the woman who had beaten them there ([member="Irajah Ven"]). She was also vaguely familiar, most likely from the Ball on Dosuun. As the bartender turned his attention to the new group, mixing some kind of beverage as he did so.

"Corellian Brandy, please." She turned to Kaalia, one eyebrow winged up in a challenge. She'd convince her friend to drink at some point in the evening. They did have three more bars to visit after all.
 

Dunames Lopez

Megalomaniac CEO of Star Tours
Location: Kaeshana
Objective: Rebuild the Kaeshana spaceport
Allies: First Order
Enemies: Unknown
Post: 4/38

"Planetary road map loaded"

"The shortest feasible route to the main road network would require five kilometers of four-lane highway since it would require extending an existing four-lane highway"

"If I may, you should order the duracrete without delay: the duracrete recycling plant will not be ready on time" Frank told Merrily and Dunames.

"That's a lot of... continuously-reinforced duracrete" Dunames commented without knowing just how much duracrete that meant.

While the engineering team was busy carrying out the duracrete calculations, Dunames prepared a datapad for requesting quotes to various duracrete suppliers around First Order space or, if a better price could be obtained in this sector, across the sector. Of course, requesting such quotes for continuously-reinforced duracrete depended almost entirely on the volume of duracrete ordered, and usually duracrete suppliers that sold the continuously-reinforced variety of duracrete included the rebar in it, so Dunames asked the engineering team to double-check the duracrete calculations before sending out the quote requests for the duracrete bulk order (assuming 60,000 cubic meters actually meant bulk, or at least some sort of bulk) that would result out of this. She would then proceed to attempt getting quotes from three suppliers in the sector and three more inside neighboring First Order space, with the 25M gauge of rebar being ordered, as appropriate to build highways alongside the appropriate overpasses and access ramps.
 
1%20Fallout_zps4s3yhlgs.jpg
"Oh, well, I'm the type of guy who will never settle down"
Kaeshana. What a hell hole. The Galactic Alliance hadn't thought things were bad enough on the surface of the planet: they decided to kark everything up even worse by destroying FO relief efforts and sparking a war.

"Where pretty girls are, well, you know that I'm around"

Kaeshana's idea of modern technology had been nuclear powered everything and they held onto that mantra until it all came back to bite them in the shebs. It had been 200 years since the bombs had dropped and the planet was still suffering from the effects of the fallout. Mutants and decaying, miserable souls trapped between being skeletons and zombies roamed the wilds. Humans were either lucky or had to deal with radiation sickness on a regular basis. They say the Devil himself had children that prowl the darkest corners; pouncing when you least expect it...and DON'T get me started on the bugs.

"I kiss 'em and I love 'em 'cause to me they're all the same"
Times were tough. You either get tougher or you find someone tougher who can do the job for you. Well, Jarven was highly certain that no one on that planet was tougher than he, so it only made sense that he should get directly involved with rebuilding Kaeshana. There was dangerous wildlife to clear out, settlements to assist, radiation to clean up, people to treat with proper medical equipment, etc.

"I hug 'em and I squeeze 'em they don't even know my name"

They also have these really cool radio stations that keep playing awesome songs from a long time ago. Hell yeah, Jarven was going. Yes, it was a hell hole, but, to Jarven, it was rife with opportunity.

"They call me a wanderer"
"Yeah, a wanderer"
"I roam around, around, around, around"
 
Wandering Naval Officer
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=DIigqVtMp_Y​
------------------------------------------------​
Objective: 3​
Location Llon Nebulae​
FIV Indomitable Resurgent Class​
[member="Sara Lee Jones"]​
----------------------------------------------------​
"Lets hold off on that for now, but stay at standby."
There was no need to launch just yet. Aran wanted to wait till they had something to move against. For now it was just the waiting game. Hopefully something would happen, most of the crew were still itching for some combat. The lumbering Resurgent would just sit quietly and wait, sooner or later someone trying to get slaves out of the sector would stumble into their neck of the woods.​
"Sir unknown ship coming into sensor range."
"Good our first catch of the night. Right now is the time to move, Bolt Squadron launch, tell them to power down and prepare to be searched and scanned for anything illegal."
"Captain, boarding crew one is ready in hanger two."
"Thank you Commander Halsey."
It was now time to enforce the laws of the area there was going to be no weapons firing at the ship unless they made a run for it.​
 

Users who are viewing this thread

Top Bottom