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Refugees have been targeted by religious cult the Opaline Creed. Promises of meat, wine, and security have been floated throughout the camp via leaflets. The Opaline Creed promises a safe haven and fresh start for every sentient in the camp. Are the followers of the Opaline Creed benevolent or is there something more sinister beneath their promises?
Objective Two
Long known as a glittering jewel in the Core, the rebuilding has just begun. Displaced refugees will need long term solutions in order for the financial powerhouse to flex its might once more. Serve the people with solutions and perhaps you will find fortune along the way.
And so, the Service Corps moved in. The Dawn of Hope arrived in orbit, in full force. With Hapes still a standstill of politics, and Woostri in the rear view mirror, Jonyna had organized the return to Teta as a grand display.
The entire fleet arrived at once, including it's newest addition, The Lifelight, a battlecruiser sized hospital ship ready to offer aid on a grand scale.
Jonyna herself, stood attentive on the bridge of the Dawnbreaker, looking to her fellow jedi with a commanding presence.
"Ma'am, we're ready to launch on your command."
"Send it." Was Jonyna's only response.
Wherever her fellow jedi ended up was up to them, but now they had the chance to descend from the heavens like angels.
TARGETING ACTION(S) - Dashiell NPC
|| OPEN She had slipped under the retreating shadow of the Maw, after Bastion, after she fled...
The time that she had taken to reacquaint herself with the people, to reacquaint herself with why she took up spear, sword, and Force in the first place - to act as chivalrously as possible, that the teachings of Matthew of Valendale
were not in vain. The Lasat had always had a more spiritual view of the Force, both as a concept, and why she was gifted it where others had not - and she did not begrudge religious orders from enacting charity on war-torn worlds, in fact, charity and loyalty were virtues from which all other goodness flows.
And yet... something nagged at her, perhaps it was reeling from the changes of the Lilaste Order's allegiance, the collapse of the Empire and the Sunstar Order, the silence that came from her own House... perhaps it was because of this that she had both hope and cynicism in regards. With the pale drakeling as her loyal companion, peering over her shoulder while clinging to her back, reading the same leaflet that many in the refugee camp she had volunteered at would read.
Maybe it's time for us to change from a steady diet of stewed rice. the Lasat would telepathically confer to her companion, to which the Drakeling enthusiastically replied with beaming rosy irises. About friggin' time!
Location: Empress Teta | OBJECTIVE TWO
Tags: LaphistoDashiell NPCDamos Vakaro The Call had gone out, with the disappearance of the Dark Empire, their former territories were in need of humanitarian aid. And the Diarchy would answer. The war torn planet of Empress Teta was where they would make landfall, it seemed only fitting that as enemies of the Dark Empire, the Diarchy would come to the aid of their displaced citizens.
To help the former Imperial Citizens, Reign was more than prepared to offer food and shelter, either permanently or until their fair planet was up and running again. To that end, he had not come alone. Both his high logistics officer and the High Commander of the Lilaste Order were seated with him in the Upsilon Shuttle, which jolted as it entered the atmosphere towards its designated landing place.
Turning to his companions, The Diarch said
"It is time for us to show the galaxy that we are not warmongering conquerors. These people need our help and we are in a perfect position to provide it. The men and women down there did not choose this war, those in power forced it upon them. It is our duty to help give them peace."
As the shuttle landed, the Diarch strode out with his companions. He was not accompanied by his Myrmidons at this time, no, he had come with his friends and advisors and did not want to present a military facing front. He was here to help, not conquer.
Shan grinned to himself as he slapped the top of his new landspeedeer. He wasn't sure what his fellow Jedi were going to be doing, but Shan was eager and waiting to be able to drive off onto Empress Teta and get to work delivering out supplies to the more remote sections of the planet. It was also an excuse to be able to use his new toy as he clambered into the driver's seat once he was sure.
Whilst the other Jedi might be able to descend like angels, Shan was going to come speeding through like a bat out of hell. The controls were a little bit more fiddly than the starfighter he was used to driving but he was sure it was just part of that whole "new landspeeder feel" he had heard about. He wasn't sure himself, the Mirialan had never had one of his own but now? Now he was eager to get to work and play. Yes, he was treating this serious but...he was like a kid in a sweet store!
Shoma had done a lot of good... more so he made deals but Junko was a jedi... albiet largely aiding the Atrisian jedi as they build themselves up and behind their Breakwater barrier now the Commonwealth was able to rebuild itself over the decades. So when the chance he had called for them to send aid to one of the worlds came... well she had the ship loaded up. The newly built Dragon's Fang MK. V vessel... Shoma's flagship and made to feed entire sectors of space as it had built in facilities and deployable pods. The cargo containers they had loaded with the fabricators producing from raw programmable matter into food and supplies. The Atrisian Princess sat there as she did miss her ship but this one was several times larger and filled with an amazing amount of fighters... better it had drop pods for food and medical production. "Engage." She said it slower then the ship needed, their advances with hyperspace technologies letting them do things more like the Aing-Tii as the ship traveled closer to the speed of thought then normal travel. "Coordinates reached." The ships biot represenative spoke as she stood there next to Shoma's throne. The aurodium thing three times his size and covered with gemstones as well as small lights to make it so they were always glittering to look at. Displays were showing what they had and Junko spoke as she remained there. "THis is Princess Junko come on behalf of the Prince Shoma Ike
who sends greetings as well as supplies of aid."
The Echelon-class Corvette Oathbound exited hyperspace at Empress Teta accompanied by several transports bearing the markings of Lazerian BioTech. A squadron of Sentinel's flew in formation around the convoy, providing additional support. Their destination was the planet's surface. The decree that had been made indicated that help was enroute to the world, and Caelan hadn't been lying. What he hadn't said was that he was on the way there himself, intending to see what he could personally do to help.
"Numerous other vessels are present including The Dawn of Hope and The Lifelight," the sensors officer on the bridge indicated.
"Transmit our identification," Lieutenant Roan said from her seat before looking to Caelan. "Do you anticipate any issue, your Highness?"
"Hmm?" Caelan asked, pulled from his thoughts. "Oh. No, I'm positive that Master Si and the Service Corp won't have an issue with additional help being provided. Find us a safe place to land down there where we can set up the temporary facilities."
"Yes, your Highness."
Oathbound was a defensive version of the corvette, designed largely to help stand against starfighter attacks and provide cover for larger vessels. In this case, to protect the transports, which were laden with temporary structures, food, medicine, and other supplies that would allow them to provide assistance to the people of Empress Teta after the sudden withdrawal of Imperial forces from their world. The levels of confusion present were going to make it difficult, but Caelan could not stay away from those in need. That just wasn't who he was.
"Landing point located. Taking us down. Transports will follow."
Damian du Couteau, Senator of Empress Teta Location: Empress Teta, Cinnagar, Royal Palace Outfit
Damian kept his eye on his data-slate, he had already approved several requisitions of several hauler vehicles and more reports streamed in further detailing the need of supplies. The Royal Palace was the perfect location to receive and coordinate transport for aid and needed supplies. It being where the administration offices were located was only an added bonus. Damian glanced around the many landing pads and shuttle crafts that were transporting several tons of aid. It being the center of Cinnagar proved quite useful to reduce the headaches of many Aid workers and without the need to watch for another invasion, morale had steadily grown.
For many Tetans it felt like reliving a memory, they had already experienced this kind of destruction before and knew what was needed to do to rebuild. Only this time though. Damian sighed as he shook the uncomfortable thought from his head and began to make his way to discuss a few things with the Mining Guild leadership.
Food, aid and medical supplies were important but the future depended on secured contracts of work. Jobs for those who need them and homes in desperate need of being rebuilt. Reintegration into the Alliance market and the avoidance of total economic collapse weighed heavily on the young du Couteau heir’s mind. This is my home and my people deserve the best chance possible to not just rebuild but flourish after all they’ve suffered through.
A few Nobles had loitered near the Palace entrance that Damian immediately pushed past. The Mining Guilds of Teta had often been the larger political power base, the Industrialists that even his father warned him to keep friendly relations even as just a civilian. But after two Maw invasions many of the Guild have fallen and their grip weakened as other Nobles attempted to arrest more control.
And here I am, a shadow of my father trying to keep them civil and cordial. Damian knew the adage of never waste an opportunity when presented. Especially during times of strife and possible upheaval of past norms. Damian for his part focused on stabilization efforts and his own investigation of Krath Mawite partisans.
An unorthodox approach for the Diarchy to be sure. As a master of the dark side, Damos found it interesting that Diarch Reign would be willing to aid the Galactic Alliance, considering that they were the ones that stood between them and domination over the galaxy. However, Damos did not question his Diarch's will. Not out of blind loyalty, but out of trust. He figured it was best not to raise any concerns, especially considering the Diarchy was cruising along pretty well in their own little pocket of the galaxy. There was no need to make any grand declarations. But instead let their actions speak for themselves. Not to mention it was good press for the Diarchy. Aiding refugees and the displaced was good for any government and making friends with the general galactic population, especially the imperial population.
Damos stood beside his fellow council member, Laphisto
as Diarch Reign
addressed him.
"It is time for us to show the galaxy that we are not warmongering conquerors. These people need our help and we are in a perfect position to provide it. The men and women down there did not choose this war, those in power forced it upon them. It is our duty to help give them peace."
"We'll do what we can to support them. The Diarchy stands as the sole successor of Imperial rule. These were formally imperial citizens. We have a duty to assist them."
Laphisto hand a hand grasping the shuttles railing for the entire ride standing more like a body guard than any member of any council. And his armored frame. Pointed any onlooker that looked at him in that general direction of thinking. At least at first glance that is. As the shuttle doors opened laphisto tapped at his vambrace ducking to avoid smacking his horns against the doorway. He had joined Diarch Reign
on this mission to render aid to the good citizens of empress teta, and quite frankly he was glad that the diarch had the heart to help people, while militaristic as the Lilaste order may be and even the diarchy themselves he had often found himself comparing the order to a pseudo mandalorian clan, in the way that he preached about honor and loyalty to ones family.
Laphisto never truly got to speak to Damos Vakaro
other than Thier initial meeting when he was welcomed to the high council. And when the man spoke Laphisto gave a small frown. He didn't see the diarchy as some imperial state. At least not his his eyes anyways. " Our duty should not be limited to purely imperial citizens , our duty is to the galaxy. To pave a better path forwards, one that will instill an everlasting piece. Though it doesn't hurt to have good publicity"
As he spoke he pulled up a holographic display of one of the orders newest ships, an Air'mar clas assault carrier and a Gre'hova assault ship " the Buran and the Chi'on are on route. They should arrive in the next few hours. Iv made sure that production of prefabricated housing has been issued so they should have a few ready by the time they arrive."
Perking his lone ear laphisto rumbled gently to himself eyes dancing over the horizon as several other ships began to make Thier decent causing him to give a small chuckle " it seems we're not the only ones so eager to help the people of this world... If only the outer rim got this much attention "
Location: Empress Teta | Cinnagar Hanger
Tags: LaphistoDamos Vakaro The Diarch listened to both of his friends. Damos, the staunch practitioner of the Dark Side, and Laphisto, while believing in balance was the Light to their Dark. As he strode to the edge of the landing pad he looked out over the war torn city, all the zeal he'd felt, the pleading he'd done for the citizens of the galaxy to no longer know this kind of pain. Appeared to be for nothing, these people lie in ruins, and his resolved was strengthened again as he stared out across the skyline.
"You both are correct, and that is why I brought the two of you with me. We do have a duty to these people, but not because they are Imperials, because they are people. They did not choose this war. While I am loathe to aid the Galactic Alliance outright, we need the support of the common people. We must be seen as liberators, not conquerors."
He turned from the view and started walking towards the turbolift, he was unsure where they would be of most use, but for negotiations, he figured he would need to talk to the ruling party, so the royal palace would be the place to start.
"To enforce order, to tear down these existing powers, will not be easy. These galaxy spanning orders have held sway for millennia, they have deep roots, and to tear them up will cause destruction. We must be sure to be there for the people that those in power will use to fight us. They are not our enemies, but mere slaves to the will of those in power. So on each war torn world, we will be there, whether that is our battle for liberation, or the ever ongoing conflict between the Jedi and the Sith."
He hoped to make his advisors understand his thinking, they need the every day people of the galaxy on their side, and to do that, the Diarchy needed to show that they were on the people's side as well.
It was sudden, the shift in real space, the lurching of ship exiting hyperspace at ludicrous velocities. In that moment, six vessels all painted in a deep yellow-gold color appeared in the space over Empress Teta, all bearing a wolf insignia on their hulls. Their purpose? To pick the bones of the Dark Empire, specifically in search of the vessels the old Empire might have left as they retreated from the planet. While resistance was expected to some degree, the hope had been to get here before the Alliance Navy could fully mobilize.
While the information they gained from their contact was correct, that the Navy was indeed preoccupied, there was a hitch in Makar's plan. Many ships from outside the main Alliance Fleet. From the small corvette from Devit, to the massive capital ships of the Dawn of Hope and Atrisia, Empress Teta's orbit was filled with ships! Even with this in mind, the ever ambitious Makar began plotting his next move.
"Captain! This space bloody crawls with GA! That Mon Cala sot was wrong!"
"Observe closer, these ships are not part of the main fleet, these belong to a support fleet. They may be heavily armed, but they are not necessarily combatants," Makar said, pensively placing his head above his hands. The situation was delicate, but not impossible. "We will activate the jammers should they get too close, and stick close to the debris fields. With any luck we can make it out of here without a fight."
While Makar was a fan of a good fight, he didn't want to lose his newly stolen Corellian fleet after having just acquired it. Their ships were fast, and their crews well honed in years of space travel, this would be another successful operation for them! Just so long as they didn't cause too much trouble, and they didn't get too greedy...
"Begin salvage operations in orbit, we'll start with that Star Destroyer there. Then once we've inspected it fully we can try to mobilize recovery teams."
Wearing | Gear : X | X | X | X | X | L3-37 | Interacting With : OPEN
The last time he had been on Empress Teta it had been an exercise in annoying a certain blonde bastard that had went completely sideways. The planet had gotten invaded by the Dark Empire and he had been stuck in an underground bunker for nearly fourteen days. A luxury bunker but the company had left much desired. An upside? He hadn't seen Casteel since.
With the Dark Empire gone, first order of business had been a family trip to his father-in-law's tomb to visit his final resting place. Lucky for them the mausoleum hadn't been completely destroyed and plans were already in place to bring the maintenance back up to speed. With the family trip, it was safe enough for his wife and daughter to remain on planet while business was conducted.
His plan was ambitious ; take over the Mining Guild. The mines on Empress Teta were basically dry yet the planet had remained a powerhouse in the mining world. It was something he had planned before the take over by the Dark Empire. Now it was time to strike and continue to expand his reach.
If he could rebuild and secure the planet's grip back on the Carbonite Run it would put him on footing greater than some of the other players in the mining industry.
Phoenix Wing had arrived in Empress Teta’s orbit to aid in the relief efforts following the Dark Empire’s retreat. Their mission was clear: establish humanitarian infrastructure by deploying the Aegis Care Cruisers, setting up a B.L.I.S.S. Station, and securing a location for a Lucky 7’s Starport as a hub for displaced civilians and support personnel. The operation had been proceeding as planned—until now.
The Baby Shark’s long-range sensors flared to life, detecting six newly arrived ships painted in an unfamiliar yellow-gold hue, each bearing a wolf insignia. The sudden hyperspace drop wasn’t subtle.
[Zane Harlock] "Oi, boss. We've got company."
Harlock leaned forward in his chair, green eyes narrowing as he scanned the tactical readout. The ships weren’t part of the Galactic Alliance, nor were they Dark Empire remnants.
[Grax Tolwin] "Picking them up now… Ah. They’re powering up jammers. That’s never a good sign."
The Ugnaught grumbled, his stubby fingers working furiously over the Baby Shark’s communications suite.
[Fizz] "Oh, sure. That’s real normal. Random fleets just pop in, scramble comms, and expect no one to notice? Totally casual behavior."
[Jek] "They’re running scans on the wrecks. Bet they’re not just here for random debris."
[Kip] "I can tell you one thing—they ain’t gettin’ outta here fast if they try anything. We’re positioned too well."
[Gibit] "Tch. Let ‘em make a move first. Then we hit ‘em." [ Contacting the Galactic Alliance – Dawn of Hope Jonyna Si
]
Captain Atticus Vesperis straightened, his tone sharp and professional.
[Fleet Captain Atticus Vesperis] "Dawn of Hope command, this is Captain Vesperis aboard the Baby Shark. We have identified an unknown fleet in orbit, not affiliated with our operation. They are activating jammers and scanning the debris fields. Awaiting your advisement."
While the transmission was sent, Harlock tapped the console, giving a sideways glance at Grax.
[Zane Harlock] "Grax, open a line to ‘em. Let’s see what they want before we start throwing punches."
Hailing the Unknown Wolf-Painted Fleet
Grax huffed, flipping a switch as a secured Phoenix Wing transmission broadcasted toward the new arrivals.
[Grax Tolwin] "Unmarked vessels, this is Phoenix Wing of the Galactic Alliance relief effort. You are entering a protected humanitarian zone. Identify yourselves and state your intent."
The message pulsed outward, but the unknown fleet hadn’t responded just yet. [ Private Crew Comms ]
With the main line open, Harlock switched to Phoenix Wing’s encrypted internal comms, exhaling through his nose.
[Zane Harlock] "I’ve seen this before… They’re scavengers. Organized, sure, but salvagers. Could be ex-mercs, ex-pirates, or just some ambitious junkers with good ships. If they’re smart, they’ll take their scrap and go."
[Fizz] "And if they’re not smart?"
[Zane Harlock] "Then they get a real bad day."
He leaned back, drumming his fingers against the console, considering.
"If they don’t look for a fight, might be worth letting ‘em grab some junk and clear out. No point making enemies over scrap. Unless the boss wants ‘em chased out proper."
Harlock let the thought hang, waiting Vesperis to make the final call.
It was the best way to describe the scene in front of Doctor Cyrus Waymire. There were several things happening at once that at least demanded some portion of his attention. A vaccination campaign was going on in the tent city ; trying to catch those who needed immunity from odd diseases brought upon living in refugee camps and war-torn areas. It wasn't as if the basic systems such as sewage and water management were completely working, which was just a recipe for disaster.
Another area their own tent city was going up. Hardshell 'tents' or pop-up buildings to create a sort of make-shift clinic site. Waymire had called in other organizations to assist on the social services side ; many in the refugee camp were native Tetans. Yet some wanted to leave. Others had been caught on the cosmopolitan planet while on business or pleasure. Then another dark factor ; a group calling themselves the Opaline Creed had been trying to recruit refugees to live off world in some unknown. Waymire suspected trafficking. Sector authorities had been alerted but were already stretched thin.
Finally the plans for Kuhn Memorial Pediatric Hospital were underway. Given how much had been destroyed or damaged, and given how the founders of the non-profit were connected to the planet, it only made sense Empress Teta would be the first location for a permanent structure. Site work had already begun a block down, a razing of an entire sector to begin the framework as immediately as possible.
An immense amount of work to be done in the Core with only so much time and manpower.
The initial descent was made so simple with the new battlecruiser. Jonyna had long trusted droids to do the work she couldn't, and sitting in the bridge of the Dawnbreaker, she flicked through her datapad watching the AI, a system she had named 'Cocoa', coordinate the entire process. A systemized flight schedule of landings and take offs, itemized lists of personal on each flight, the same for every person brought back up, their medical needs, and who to assign to them. It was a symphony of technological progress.
What the Alliance could achieve with enough effort.
"Dawn of Hope command, this is Captain Vesperis aboard the Baby Shark. We have identified an unknown fleet in orbit, not affiliated with our operation. They are activating jammers and scanning the debris fields. Awaiting your advisement."
Jonyna paused as her comms officer flagged her down.
"Ma'am, incoming transmission from...Baby Shark?"
The old Tingle Arm fleet. "What do they want?"
"They've picked up an incoming fleet off towards the debris field. Hostile, but not imperial. We dismissed it as debris at first, but we're picking up active jamming signals now."
Jonyna paused to think. She had never dealt with commanding a fleet, only Zash regaling her with the time her crew had helped launch Home One. Realistically, the enemy hadn't even engaged them yet, nor seemed to want to, given their positioning. And so, she fell back on what Rara Gowisi
had told her the ships were designed to do.
"Shift the Venators towards that direction as a bulwark line, along with the Astrocats behind them. Guard the rest of the fleet, but hold fire until fired upon."
They didn't need to engage if the enemy didn't want to. Those wrecks weren't of value anyways to the Service Corps, not until they could be brought back to port for a refit.
TARGETING ACTION(S) - Dashiell NPC
|| OPEN Dr. Waymire had heard the sound of wings in the wind, and he already knew about what was headed his way. The pale drakeling and her intimidating armored Lasat had made a name of themselves for some time now, at first in a frenzied, frantic, and self-sacrificingly flinging themselves into the most physically taxing jobs - using the Force to remove debris, trouncing petty gangs who preyed and extorted the weak, serving as sleepless vigil against that which lurked in the shadows of the ruins, in the shadows of the Krath Empress and her Mawite legacy.
Of course, the Mandalorian didn't stay that way, after a bemusing incident of playing with a particularly brash gaggle of younglings, she seemed to have softened the penitential pursuit of charity, acting as a reliable "big sis" - for that was what she would answer to, when the drakeling Beviin had not been referred to. Those who pressed her further would know her as "Kebii'kara", her reasons for being here, "to make up for lost time".
As the good doctor would know, Kebii'kara acted as everything from a shoulder to cry on, to a visored face to leer at those who wished to swindle the helpless, but his intuition would observe that she was happiest when building something to assist people - among the most ecstatic that Kuhn Memorial Pediatric was finally underway - even if Beviin would be the one to express jubilation on her behalf. Mandalorians had a reputation, after all.
It was that same Beviin who swung low while awing, lazily circling the Doctor before landing with some stumbling, chirping twice and pointing with her muzzle to the form of that self-same Mandalorian coming towards him. The two may not be bestest of friends, per se, but the two knew to rely on one another for the gaps in their respective gifts - and Kebii'kara had always deferred to the local leaders and good samaritans first and foremost.
If he were to turn to face her, he would already know that Kebii too had a flyer for the "Opaline Creed", and could already guess that she intended to do as she always had - make herself useful wherever there was most need; be that here, or investigating something that the Sector Authorities could not.
"Dr. Waymire." Kebii'kara intoned through her visor, fire-spear in one hand and beckoning for her drakeling companion to return to her perch on the Lasat's shoulder.
Long known as a glittering jewel in the Core, the rebuilding has just begun. Displaced refugees will need long term solutions in order for the financial powerhouse to flex its might once more. Serve the people with solutions and perhaps you will find fortune along the way.
Where there was one Dashiell, another was rarely far behind—sometimes only a holo-call away. And in this case, that Dashiell was Balun. He, his brother Makai Dashiell
, and their father Judah Dashiell
shared more than just a name; they carried the same deep-seated desire to make a difference in the galaxy. Each pursued that goal in his own way, guided by an unshakable moral compass. But Balun was the outlier among them—the wild card.
As the first Force-sensitive of the family, his upbringing within the New Jedi Order, a time when only his mother had known of his existence, had shaped him in ways the others could never fully understand. Yet, while the Force granted him abilities they lacked, his father and brother wielded their own unique strengths. Together, the three of them (Mostly Judah Dashiell) had built something extraordinary: the powerhouse that was Dashiell Incorporated™.
It was Makai's call that had set things in motion. A request. A need. And Balun had answered without hesitation.
Leaving behind the Dashiell Retrofit™Orbital Foundry over Kesh, he piloted the Nomad—his heavy freighter—toward Empress Teta, its cargo holds filled with food, supplies, and anything else he could gather to aid those in need. War had a way of crushing the innocent beneath its weight, and the refugees fleeing the conflict were always its truest victims. The so-called winners and losers of battle didn't matter to them—only survival did. Civilian lives, fragile and precious, were too often trampled under the boots of military conquest and governmental tyranny.
But Balun had more than just relief supplies to offer. The Nomad was more than a ship—it was a mobile manufacturing station, its molecular furnace capable of fabricating small goods, its droid staff primed to assist in whatever way was needed. With time, he could produce essentials for the displaced. He could help in ways few others could.
A sharp whistle pulled him from his thoughts.
Balun glanced down from the pilot's seat to see Chip, his spherical astromech, looking up expectantly.
"Yeah, yeah, I know," Balun chuckled. "Makai's expecting us. But no guarantees we'll see him right away. We're headed to some place called… Tent Town? Or Tent City? Some chit like that. Either way, we're here to help people, and once we're done, I'll make sure you see him, alright?"
Chip beeped, a hopeful chime in his binary speech.
Unlike their father, Makai had a soft spot for droids, and Balun's little BB-model companion had taken a particular liking to him. It was… nice, seeing Chip form attachments beyond just him. As if the droid, too, was finding a family. A place where he belonged.
"We're not far now," Balun said, a fond smile tugging at his lips. "Go get yourself secured before we jump back into real space, little buddy."
As Chip rolled off, Balun refocused on the cockpit, hands tightening around the controls. Empress Teta lay ahead, waiting. The refugees were waiting. And whatever—or whoever—awaited them in orbit, Balun would be ready.
Makar was in the middle of looking over the scanner screen when the call came in, it was not a shock that one of the many fleets had seen them. The large debris field would only block visual sensors, and their electronic warfare suites would make a lot of noise. Just the price of doing business it seemed. He could have ignored it and sent out his salvage teams to begin operations, but now things were getting interesting.
"Sir! Incoming comms from a vessel going by 'Baby Shark', it's a hell of a ship despite the name..."
"Good, bring up the comms and I shall address their crew myself... This is getting interesting," Makar said, looking as the holoprojector in front of him came to life, showing the Captain of the potential enemy vessel. "Greetings to you, I am Lord Makar Clyne, and I take it you are part of the protection detail of this humanitarian effort?"
Makar's pleasantries were a calculated part of his strategy. He was watching another screen as he spoke, one that showed all of the ships in the immediate area. The fleet that Vesperis was in command of was fairly massive, enough to give even the most bloodthirsty pirate pause. The "Baby Shark" itself was a fairly well massive ship, but it didn't have a Galactic Alliance transponder code. There was a chance to reason with the officers aboard.
"Allow me to be transparent with you, I have no notions of fighting you or your people. What you do for the citizens of Teta is impressive, and I have no ill will towards them. My objective is to scour the debris of the many battles fought here for useful tech, and bring one of these ships back online. However, I do feel as though the Alliance Navy might not want a Star Destroyer brought to bear against them. If the Alliance interferes, we will defend ourselves..."
Even as he spoke he was plotting, scheming on how to exact a bit of vengeance on the alliance, vengeance for his time in their prison. He saw two Venator-Class Cruisers forming a defensive bulwark around several other ships. Yes, some of their medical frigates might make nice targets. One going under the name "Thracker" caught his eye due to it's position in the formation.
Makar turned off the mic of his communications for a moment, addressing his crew rather than Vesperis.
"Have all pilots make ready to scramble at a moment's notice. Begin sending signals to our other ships over encrypted channels. The "Thracker" may become a target, but do not strike yet..."
[Zane Harlock] "A lord, oh my! We are but humble folk, and here you are gracing us with titles and pleasantries. Flattery from a lord! Now that's a rare thing indeed."
He exhaled through his nose, giving a slow glance at the tactical display before leaning back in his chair.
[Zane Harlock] "Though I have to say, it's not every day I see nobility rummaging through the graveyard like the rest of us common folk. Makes a man wonder if all that grandeur is just good branding."
Harlock tapped a finger against the console, considering his next move. Then he gave Makar a steady look, his voice relaxed but firm.
[Zane Harlock] "I get it. Wars leave ghosts, and ghosts leave wreckage... And wreckage? That’s a prize for men like you and me, yeah? I ain't knocking the hustle... never have, never will."
His eyes shifted toward the tactical display before he continued.
[Zane Harlock] "But let's set the record straight. Phoenix Wing? We're not GA. We don't wear their flag, don’t take their orders. But our employer.... well, let’s just say they’ve got a soft spot for the Alliance. And what they want is for us to make sure the Lucky 7 and BLISS stations go up without a hitch. That means supplies move freely, people stay safe, and no one—" he let that word settle for a beat, "starts something they can't finish."
Leaning forward slightly, he rested his forearms on the console, his smirk returning, though this time, it was a knowing one.
[Zane Harlock] "Now, I could just pretend we don't see what's happening here; but take some advice from an old dog who's seen too many hunts. When you talk about 'defending yourself,' folks tend to think you're expecting a fight. And powering up jammers? Well, that just tells everyone you've got secrets worth hearing. Might wanna reconsider the signals you're sending, mate."
However..."Lord" Makar, we’ve got no business in petty quarrels; not with you, not with the GA, not with anyone looking to settle old scores. We're here for one thing:honest work. Our employer’s mighty fond of the GA, so we make sure this sector stays clean, the stations go up without a hitch, and no one—" he let that word hang, "tries to make trouble while we do it."
Harlock gave a small shrug, the picture of casual indifference, though his tone made it clear he wasn’t actually indifferent at all. He'd try to state what he needed to state at least twice to ensure he was understood before continuing to clarify his own perspective on those loose words.
[Zane Harlock] "I ain’t here to play judge. Hell, I don’t even care what grudge you got with the GA. That’s your business. But I’ll tell you what is my business... this sector? It stays clean. No shootouts, no sabotage, no clever little games that force us to come knocking."
[Private Comms to Phoenix Wing Crew]
Without turning away from the holodisplay, Harlock spoke under his breath into his private crew comms, making sure only Grax Tolwin heard him.
[Zane Harlock – Private Crew Comms] "Grax, let’s give our employer a heads-up. Send a transmission and data package to‘The King Slayer.’Call it a courtesy, makes me more comfortable having the big boss around."
He didn’t explain further. He didn’t have to. If Makar was thinking about trying something, the sudden arrival of "The King Slayer" might make him think twice, or in the very least throw a wrench in to the works.
Harlock turned his attention to Captain Vesperis, his usual smirk replaced with something colder.
[Zane Harlock – Secure Channel to Vesperis] "They ain’t nothing but vultures, Cap. Come to pick the bones of the dead. If they were just salvagers, they’d have done this quiet, but they’re making a show of it. You don’t talk about ‘defending yourself’ unless you’re already thinking about a fight."
He let that thought sit for a moment before adding;
[Zane Harlock] "Might be worth passing that along to your GA friends. I don’t like how this smells."
After muting the secure line, Vesperis switched channels, addressing the Galactic Alliance’s point of contact in a calm, diplomatic tone.
[Fleet Captain Atticus Vesperis ] "Phoenix Wing to Dawn of Hope command—be advised, we’ve made contact with an unidentified fleet in the debris field. They claim to be scavengers and say they want no trouble. So far, that holds true."
There was the slightest pause before he added, voice just a touch drier...
[Fleet Captain Atticus Vesperis] "But men who mean no trouble don’t power up jammers. We’ll be keeping an eye on them."
Valery Noble
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Shan
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Jonyna Si
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Balun Dashiell
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Diarch Reign
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Everest Vale
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Braze
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