Nine Tenths of Farquar [Commenor Systems Alliance Dominion of the Farquar Hex]

[Bradshaw Ku]

Post: 1
Location: Royal Palace landing pad, Chasin City, Commenor.
Objective: Drink a little tea, do a lot a flrtin’… aaand attend the Farquar III meeting
Company: Freeosk (Yuzzem Bodyguard), Hopefully [member="Silfe Sosuri"]
Allies: CSA, friends of CSA
Enemies: Mad Jack Son’ov’a and the Ministers of Ungentlemanly Business (doesn’t know it yet)

​

Bradshaw stood with Freeosk on the landing pad for the Royal Palace in Chasin City. Next to him was the lowered ramp leading up to access a Commenori Pheonix. The same model starship produced by Commenor Shipyards as his step-father’s own diplomatic vessel, the Kingsguard. This one, however, wasn’t as pimped out as the one his mother had given [member="Veiere Arenais"] for a wedding gift. Instead, it was a stock model, not long off the production lines. It had none of the niceties of that more special craft that made it much less stark and more comfortable for casual flying and long journeys. The vessel behind him wasn’t made for that, it was a military/ civil service starship and as such, it was rather austere and hard, it did its job well, but without any special flourish.

Originally, he’d imagined personally flying a small freighter. It would’ve been much easier to impress Silfe with his piloting – though, at the cost of spilled tea, no doubt. However, the extensive injuries to his abdomen he’d suffered during the Incursion on Kwenn Station weren’t yet fully healed. Bacta and the healing powers of the force were miraculous, but some injuries just took time. At least his had only been physical, if you don’t count some of the crazy poodoo he’d seen, but his mother’s former assistant, [member="Kirie Ito"], had gone through so much more and would need that much longer to heal. Physically and mentally. Because of his injuries, piloting was off the table. At least, any piloting worth the name.

That wasn’t the only reason he’d chosen a bigger ship. One reason would be revealed upon entering. He’d done a little work to spruce it up and make it a little more comfortable and inviting. Actually, some of the Palace staff did most of the work while Bradshaw lounged in a chair, pointing at what needed to be done, but he chalked that up to semantics and his injuries.

The other reason for a bigger ship was much more evident, at least from the outside. Three security staff stood with him on the pad and there were more inside. He was crawling with them. Was the increased security [member="Lady Kay"]’s idea after the Incursion and what happened on Kwenn Station? Or was it the idea of who ever headed security nowadays? He didn’t know, but he did know their constant presence was a constant annoyance to a Prince used to wandering as he pleased. No doubt Silfe would similarly be dragging her own retinue of security with her.

The increased security wasn’t the only obvious difference. He wasn’t dressed in the cream and blue Jedi robes that he’d gotten used to, nor, even, the smuggler’s garb he called home for much of his life and still wore when he went ‘under cover’. He stood on the landing pad, instead, in a sharp, pricy three-piece suit. It did a good job of hiding the bandages underneath, plus, it would make a good impression for the big meeting. But really, it was for Silfe’s benefit. For once, he didn’t look like a Jedi out of place, or a scummy pilot, but someone who could be described as a prince.

The Incursion had gotten in the way, to say the least, and they had to attend a political meeting of all things but he was finally taking Silfe for that cup of tea and second chance she’d agreed to.

- [member="Klesta"] - [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] - [member="Anse Tahvo"] - [member="Cassius Droma"] - [member="Kei Raxis"] -​

 

[Silfe Sosuri]

Post: 1

Location: Royal Palace landing pad, Chasin City, Commenor.

Objective: Drink a little tea, give a guy a second chance… aaand attend the Farquar III meeting

Company: [member="Bradshaw Ku"] and a retinue of security and staff

Allies: CSA, friends of CSA

Enemies: enemies of CSA



Silfe, for her part had fretted over what she would wear during the transport over than she had about what she would wear during the important meeting on Farquar III. Being a appropriately attired for important functions had been ingrained in her by tutors for her entire life. How one dressed when casually having tea with the Prince was something rather foreign to the young woman.

She chose a gown of pale golden velvet. It draped well on her body like a cascade of sunset without being super revealing or obscene. The long sleeves came to points at her wrists and an opening to her bare skin happened in two places. The first and most immediately notable was at her chest; a small teardrop shaped cut out gave just enough hint of skin and cleavage for it to be interesting but not immodest. The second was only visible from the back or sides. As she came up to the craft, her security lead asked something of her. She turned to listen more attentively revealing the entire back cut out of the dress, showing bare, creamy and lovely skin from just under her shoulder blades to the top of her hips. She nodded and so did he. One man looked particularly sullen but said nothing.

When she turned her attention back to Bradshaw she smiled warmly. Her contingent went ahead to board before her. Bradshaw looked very good. She swallowed hard, finding the heat of a soft blush coming to her cheeks. "You clean up quite nicely your highness. A girl might almost think you did it for her."

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

ALDERAAN QUEEN​

Corellian YT-2400 Light Freighter ​

descending to Farquar III​

​

When had he arrived at a point where he hated going aboard his own ship?

The young Anzat stood at the top of the loading ramp, staring out into the interior of the small freighter. In his mind's eye, he could see a small clone boy. A juvenile clone trooper, the sole survivor of a group of eleven clone cadets he'd been arrogant enough to take with him on what was supposed to have been a training mission. Except it had gone wrong.

All of it. Wrong. Horribly, horribly wrong.

By the time it was over, the Old Republic was gone. The Jedi were gone. And all that the proud Jedi Knight who dared called himself General Xantha had been able to save had been a 2-1B medical droid and one clone cadet.

He'd told the boy that they were going to have an adventure. And they had. Standing there, at the top of the loading ramp, Sor-Jan would swear he could hear the echo of all their laughter. Of all their yesterdays. A young clone trooper playing, either chasing or being chased by a blue-accented BB unit. Sitting around the autochef sharing scary stories. Turning long journeys in hyperspace into make-believe camping trips, holding sleep overs in tents pitched in the cargo section.

844 had become 846. The young clone was little older.

846 had become 847. The young clone was a little taller now.

847 had become 848. The young clone was a little wiser now. A little curious now. He wanted to connect with the history of his clone template, Jango Fett. He'd set out for Mandalore with Sor-Jan's help, because Sor-Jan had wanted the boy to be free to be his own man. Free to choose his own path, not beholden to what the cloners of Kamino or anyone else might have predetermined for him.

He went to Mandalore and he never returned.

Neither had Sor-Jan. The young Anzat had been one of the first to arrive after the detonation of a super volcano devastated the people of the planet Mandalore, looking for survivors and finding himself once more largely incapable of saving more than a handful. Part of him never left Mandalore either.

A small hand brushed against the bulkhead. The weight of seventy years bowing the child's shoulders as it suddenly seemed a heavy burden upon him. So many friends now gone. His master, looking so old as he'd died in the Anzat's arms on Yinchorri Prime. Or his padawan - his first padawan - growing from a boy to a man, from a man into a Jedi Knight, with a padawan of his own.

Dilly and Teela had gone back to Coruscant. They would have been back in the temple just a few days when Darth Vader and the 501st embarked upon Contingency Order 66.

If he could have known that time on Coruscal would have been the last time he would have seen them, there were things he would have liked to have said. Sentiments that he'd always meant to express, yet never seemed to find the time. Find the right moment. Find the courage with which to speak them. Never the right moment, he'd told himself... and then the moment was gone. And would never come again.

Humans had such brief, fleeting lives. They burst into existence like firecracker, but then the flame flickered out so fast.

In many respects, the boy envied them that.

He made his way to the cockpit. He tried not to look at the empty co-pilot's seat as he took the controls. Settling into the pilot's chair was like putting on a comfortable set of well-worn slippers. The ship came to life under the boy's skilled hands, the hangar bay of the star destroyer so soon vanished until the view was that of the stars of the heavens and a planet suspended in a permanent night's sky.

The world loomed larger and larger as the boy angled the Alderaan Queen for its approach. Inverting the ship, the young Anzat set the angle of attack and gently eased the vessel so that it skimmed the upper atmosphere -- threading the layers like a thread through the eye of a needle.

All the while, it was eerie how quiet the ship had become. It was like steering a graveyard, the memory of his companions lingering like ghosts in the cockpit.

 

[Cassius Droma]

Post: Two
Location: Pesmenben IV
Objective: Retrieve the Sacred Demon Head

The ride to the cave entrance was a short one, and as Cassius neared, he could see that there was some sort of small obelisk next to it. He slowed his speeder bike to a halt and hopped off, his eyes still drawn to the obelisk. Crouching next to it, he lightly brushed off the front of it with his fingers – faded writing started to become visible. Using his full hand to swipe off the rest, Cassius reached to his belt and took off the holo-imager attachment from his datapad. Scanning it quickly, he placed the device back on his belt and studied it for a few moments longer before remembering he was actually here for something.

Standing up and smoothing out his robes, Cassius began to venture inside. The temperature difference between the scorching heat outside and the cool shaded interior of the cave was stark and welcoming. Regardless, he didn’t take off his head wrap just yet, as he didn’t feel like wrapping it up to put in his small satchel for later. While his Force senses would help guide him throughout the cave’s descending tunnels, he still took out a small flashlight and flicked it on to help him see visually.

Already he was seeing signs of civilization. A broken piece of pottery here, what looked like some degraded circuitry here, and… and…

And something shiny. Something new. Brow furrowing, Cassius stooped down to take a better look at it. Strangely enough, it looked like some a vibrocutter. He flicked the small indented switch, but nothing happened. The power cell must have broken. Nothing like that should have been in here, though. It was almost as if someone had been here recently…

Just then, he heard voices in the distance. Curious, but equally cautious, Cassius moved towards the sounds, crouching and stepping on the balls of his feet so as to lessen the amount of noise he made. After about twenty meters, he came to a larger chamber in the cave – it looked like it had been carved out by primitive tools. In the chamber, however, was something that was not primitive. Durasteel crates were stacked on top of each other, and roughly four men were sitting at a makeshift table off to one side. The chamber itself was lit by fixtures that had been crudely tacked into the walls, with soft shadows in every corner.

Great. The chamber had become a smuggler’s hideout.

Perfect.

 

[WolfMortum]

Post: Four​

Location: The Commenori Pheonix: The KingsGuard​

Objective: Investigate sudden outage of power to the KingsGuard​

Company: [member="Lady Kay"], [member="Mad Jack Son'ov'a"]​

​

​

​

Captain Terrac came walking down the corrider leading from the Cockpit of the vessel, right hand rested upon the holstered side-arm of Systems Alliance issue; his gaze glancing from [member="Lady Kay"] to Veiere Arenais, guided by the dim red lighting of the Emergency generators keeping everything from falling into darkness. The Commenori Pheonix was quite the vessel in general size and layout, plenty of room to hide away and yet not enough to get yourself lost within; it catered several floors and was the pride of personal transport for the monarchy and leadership of government across the CSA, thus posing an interesting few questions given their current predicament.

"I've triggered the Emergency Systems below deck, the Fire down there should be handled fairly quickly thanks to this ships extinguishing vents" Terrac responded to the pair of them as he stepped on by to pry access to one of the lower compartments dug into the wall, pulling away the outer panel to expose wiring and a smaller console for which he began to tap into using his personal datapad; "I'm more concerned about the fact that whatever hit us came from inside of the ship, there's nothing within range of our..." His brows soon furrowed as he took a second glance of the datapad. The Sensor array had briefly picked up on some form of movement outside of the craft though with the emergency power seriously crippling her optimum efficiency, the foreign enemy craft had not remained long within range of their detection before it had vanished again.

"We're not alone..." Veiere spoke up, picking up on their pilots sudden anxiety and reaching out with the Force to probe the environment around the vessel. The presence within the Force and Veiere's aura strengthening due to his intent to better get a handle on their situation would of course alert any others of Force Proclivity to the fact that there within the KingsGuard, the Jedi Master was searching for signs of them.

It was only now that his right hand drew to his belt, detaching one of his lightsaber hilts from the coupling that held it in place upon his person. The weapon of a Jedi, for which he did not activate would serve as a last resort and deterrent to whatever harm might be intended for his wife; his natural first instinct and assumption was that this was some sort of attack upon her as the image of governance across the CSA.


The KingsGuard Layout:

Spoiler

 

[Klesta]

Location: Pesmenben IV
Objective: Peddling ergonomic assessments

"Time to send out the first six or seven interview offers or so"

"All right, boss" Tiffany acknowledged.

Tiffany sent out the first few interview offers, while the remaining were left on standby, with few obvious rejects, and the majority of them being just people whose profiles would be more proper for different positions. Exactly which position is perhaps a question best left to whoever is the new hire for the talent manager position to decide. But most of those clear rejects were people whose skillset made them a poor fit in the functions of a workplace health and safety outfit. He had to make sure the coordinates for the interview location were easily understood before those invitations would be sent out. Never would they realize that Klesta et al would simply be done with the staffing problems and let the talent manager deal with it afterward. For this reason, the interview would aim to determine how much trust to place into said manager, especially important in anything remotely resembling a flatter hierarchy. Flat hierarchies the way the Xi Charrian meant it usually required the trust of the employees for that to work: top-heavy companies can arise because the different layers don't trust each other.

 

[Bradshaw Ku]

Post: 2
Location: Royal Palace landing pad, Chasin City, Commenor
Objective: Drink a little tea, do a lot a flirtin’… aaand I guess attend the Farquar III meeting
Company: [member="Silfe Sosuri"], Freeosk (Yuzzem Bodyguard), Commenori security detail
Allies: CSA, friends of CSA
Enemies: Mad Jack Son’ov’a and the Ministers of Ungentlemanly Business (doesn’t know it yet). Anyone else who wants to step to us

Bradshaw waited anxiously on the landing pad, fortunately he wasn’t forced to stew long. His searching gaze easily picked Silfe out as she walked across the tarmac. She was hard to miss, and not just because, as he’d assumed, she was accompanied by a retinue of security and staff. Her figure was perfectly accentuated by the stylish velvety pale gold dress draped effortlessly around her.

He swallowed. A hooked finger tugged at his shirt collar. No use, he felt strangled by the fabric no matter how hard he pulled.

Then the young woman turned to speak to one of her security officers, revealing the dress’ larger of its two windows to him. He suddenly inhaled too quickly, causing a sharp pang in his abdomen from one of his still healing internal wounds to shoot up his left side. He fought back a grimace.

Why was he so anxious? It wasn’t as if he hadn’t spent time with an attractive woman before. Normally he would be perfectly steady, but not today. A quick cough to clear his throat was all he had time for in order to collect himself before she was standing next to him with cheeks turning a slight pink.

Get yourself together man, he coached himself.

“Oh, this old thing…” he said, gesturing playfully at his outfit like some sort of gameshow assistant – you’ve won a tennis racket bag, a fax machine, and about 20 harmonicas... –, “It was the only thing I had clean.” Of course, he knew he wasn’t fooling anyone. “Besides, I could say the same for you Minister Sosuri. Do you always dress like you’re on a date when you’re off to woo a planet into the fold? Because if you do, you’re going to make one hell-of-a Foreign Affairs Minister.”

He smiled genuinely, then gestured toward the lowered ramp next to them, “If you’ll follow me, my lady. Our carriage awaits.”

He would lead her up the ramp and into the ship’s recreation area. Normally a sparsely furnished room with cold, durasteel walls, it had been transformed. Thick, luxurious silken blankets had been affixed to each of the walls and allowed to hang in such a way as to allow them to move and fold, bringing them alive. They were a delicate, Commenori blue. Strings of small lights were similarly hung on the walls, the vessel’s gentle rocking after lift-off rousing them into a subtle play of intricately moving shadow and light. A white carpet covered the otherwise hard floor, and in the canter of the room there was a simple round table big enough for two with two comfortable chairs. On the table sat the tea he’d promised her -- an emerald colored tea kettle next to matching tea-cups.

Lest the mood strike her as too serious, or romantic, he would lighten it the way he dealt with just about anything. With a little humour. A song was playing in the background, and as they entered, Brad would look shocked, “Oh no! You didn’t Freeosk…” he’d exclaim, then turn to her with a conspiratorial chuckle, “Very sorry about this. Freeosk must’ve put it on. The big teddy bear is a bleeding-heart romantic.”

A quick glance back at the 8’2’’, muscle bound former gladiatorial slave following behind and his less than amused expression would supply all the punchline that was needed.

- [member="Klesta"] - [member="Veiere Arenais"] - [member="Cassius Droma"] -[member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] - [member="Lady Kay"] -- [member="Kei Raxis"] - [member="Anse Tahvo"] -​

 

[Silfe Sosuri]

Post: 2
Location: Royal Palace landing pad, Chasin City, Commenor.
Objective: Drink a little tea, give a guy a second chance… aaand attend the Farquar III meeting
Company: [member="Bradshaw Ku"] and a retinue of security and staff
Allies: CSA, friends of CSA
Enemies: enemies of CSA

Silfe smiled warmly at his compliments. To catch him off guard, she responded, "I thought this was the date and you were wooing me, your highness. A second chance?" One of her eyebrow rose in a small challenge before she took his offered arm and joined him to board the ship. Essentially she was saying she had dressed for him and no other.

The decor on the ship caught her off guard. It was lovely: soft colors, soft textures that were not natural to a ship of this type if her memory served. It was warm and inviting, even romantic. She looked back at Freeosk's face and Silfe covered her mouth with a delicate hand as she burst into bubbling laughter.

In this light, the makeup she had applied to cover the bruises from her father would likely not ever be seen. Her eyes sparkled with amusement. "My, but you did go all out didn't you? It certainly goes a long way to proving yourself." She paused because as she had been looking at her handsome tea partner, she could tell the he hated his suit. Something just told her that he was uncomfortable.

Silfe smiled and though a bit hesitant, she stepped forward reaching up to loosen the tie and undo the tight collar. Her fingers worked deftly as though she knew how to handle collars and ties. She had seen him adjust it outside. Unsure of him and how he would react to her gesture, she simply starred at her fingers as they worked, not daring to look up. "There. That must be better." She said before she realized how close to him she had become. Her breath caught in her throat and her cheeks grew hot.

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

ALDERAAN QUEEN​

Corellian YT-2400 Light Freighter ​

Farquar III​

​

"...so, as you can see, just one of our subspace relay stations will provide a sixty percent increase across the board for your telecommunications capabilities."

God, he hated these corporate demonstrations.

But the board wanted to see him involved in the company again, so he agreed to do them. Plus the people in marketing thought it was effective. A little blond kid with grey-blue eyes.

Also, no heartbeat and a pair of proboscis that would pull your brains out through your nose.

Cute wasn't synonymous with human after all.

Of course, Sor-Jan had re-built Corellia Digital from the ground up. Starting back at the basics of data processing and storage and then growing steadily into communications. He could have given this presentation in his sleep, gesturing as he spoke and walked casually through the brightly colored holographic graphics supplied by the small holo-emitter he'd placed on the board room table.

He was meeting with one of Farquar's planetary communications committee. A panel of subject matter experts gathered from across government and industry, setting out regulation for the communications protocols used within the system. If Corellia Digital was going to get a foot in the proverbial door with Farquar, this was the group that he needed to impress. "And that's not just in this system," the boy began, a mere hand gesture causing the holographic rendering the Farquar System to shrink down to include the surrounding space beyond its borders. "Long range capabilities will..."

"We already have working communications systems, Mister Xantha," the man at the center of the panel opined aloud, interrupting the boy. As Sor-Jan paused, the man continued, offering a dismissive wave as he uttered, "This seems hardly necessary."

Not exactly words any salesman wanted to hear when hocking a product. "Hardly necessary," the boy echoed back, pacing before the table as he repeated, "Hardly necessary."

Then he stopped. Spinning back around, the boy asked, "How's this for hardly necessary? The wars of the Galactic Republic and the One Sith did a lot of damage to the infrastructure supporting your communications." He'd noticed that on the flight in. A lot of derelict satellites. A lot of old satellites. "Infrastructure that has been left largely untouched in the vacuum left by the absence of those major political powers."

The Epistellar Jovian had mapped out the communication pathways in and out of Farquar some time ago. Initial com-scan by the Intervention indicated a five percent decrease in available pathways. Farquar was going dark, slowly. "Outside your star system, satellite after satellite has gone off-line from disrepair," the boy noted, a snap of his finger causing the holo-emitter to generate a pre-programmed image of Corellia Digital's satellite constellation. One by one, the points connected from Coruscant to Demonsgate to Laekia.

"Internally, your current capabilities only enable HoloNet access for about eighty percent of your population. I'm offering you the ability to turn that into a hundred percent," the boy remarked, pausing to look around the room. The man at the center of the table started to speak, and it was Sor-Jan's turn to interrupt him. "...and that's not all. Your long-range communications have degraded steadily over the past twelve months, when the old Republic terminal started malfunctioning."

He paused there. Looked each delegate in the eye in turn, saving the minister in the center chair for last, as he spoke and said, "If I had to guess, I'd say you're experiencing a three- to four-week gap in information outside one hundred lightyears."

He didn't need to be a telepath to read the slight shift in body language that indicated he was right.

Of course, he was right precisely because he was a telepath. All's fair in love and war. And, to quote the Atrisians... business is war. "We'll restore your long-range communications, guarantee your connection to the major political factions..." the boy offered, as he approached the table. Raising his eyes, the young vampire locked onto his corporate prey as he asked, "Would that be something of interest to you?"

Of course, he already knew the answer.

It was like playing Sabaac. You never sat down at the table without a cheater up your sleeve...

 

[Kay-Larr]

Post: 4
Location: The Kingsguard
Objective: Get out of trouble
Company: [member="Veiere Arenais"]
Enemies: [member="Mad Jack Son'ov'a"] and co.


Kay looked to Terrac as he came in, informing them of the situation. The old pilot didn't so much talk to her as he did to Veiere. In truth he had only given her a quick glance. Things just hadn't been the same between them since after she was captured by Prazutis. Before then he had treated her as though he was her father, using his odd sense of humour as a term of endearment. However that was all lost when she had returned and claimed the throne after the 'mysterious' deaths of the Elders. Now Terrac hardly looked at her, let alone spoke to her. She knew that Veiere was trying to rectify that, but his methods weren't working. Probably a last resort would be to have them locked in a room together. Both would be very uncomfortable with that.

Her attention turned to Veiere as he became alarmed. Even in the darkened light she could tell that he was feeling things out through the Force. Kay had kept her sensitivity down to that of a small tree nut, moreso because they weren't the only ones on board. Now with that startling revelation, she was glad that she did. Veiere pulled out his lightsaber, though fortunately he didn't ignite it just yet. So she moved over to the bed in their cabin and slid the holocron box under there. "Why does it seem that nothing can ever just...go smoothly?" It made her wonder if they'd even get to Farquar at all....

 

[Klesta]

Location: Pesmenben IV
Objective: Peddling ergonomic assessments

The next day, the first candidate to respond to the interview offer arrived in the temporary office of what was used to sift through the pre-orders for ergonomic assessments, Klesta's ship. No permanent location has yet been opened on Pesmenben IV since the down payments were slow to arrive for the preorders; that candidate would never suspect that the wait would be so long. Not that Ziost would mind, if it could save the stockholders in the Caldera some money, the Sith Empire would look the other way. After all, there were few established businesses for workplace health and safety in the first place, much less ergonomic assesments, in SE territory. That, even though the big revenue centers for ergonomic assessments were in Commenori land, because the Caldera was, simply put, a rather small market in that respect, and the same was true of the media part of it.

"Welcome, Mr. Tiramisu. I trust that you are coming for the talent manager interview"

"Yes, Klesta"

"First question: if a candidate is not qualified for a specific position, would you consider that candidate for other positions in the future? If so, for how long?" Klesta asked, with the candidate not suspecting that there actually were several piles of CVs for different types of positions, compiled based where their profiles would be good fits.

"Yes; it would be a waste of my trust in the candidates, and they shall be kept on file for six standard months"

 

[Bradshaw Ku]

Post: 3
Location: Aboard a Commenori Phoenix, Chasin City, Commenor
Objective: Drink a little tea, do a lot a flirtin’... aaand I guess attend the Farquar III meeting
Company: [member="Silfe Sosuri"], Freeosk (Yuzzem Bodyguard), too many Commenori security details
Enemies: Mad Jack Son’ov’a and the Ministers of Ungentlemanly Business (doesn’t know it yet). Anyone else who wants to step to us

Bradshaw couldn’t help but give Silfe’s clever response an anxious laugh. She was very quick on her feet and as someone who grew to love the give and take of barroom banter a long time ago or, as those occupying his new station in life might call it, witty repartee, knowing that she could return a jest with such natural ease only made him like her more. There were, perhaps, only two great loves he’d had in life: flying and banter. If you didn’t count women, of course.

Her laughter, after turning to look at the still unamused giant bodyguard behind them, clearly having got and appreciated his little joke, was music to his ears. Laughter and humour were two of his other great loves, especially when it came to coaxing a giggle from the fairer sex, though he never appreciated one quite so much as he did now.

So, okay, maybe he had a lot more great loves than he thought.

“I didn’t have much choice, did I? Nobody talks about third impressions…-“ he started to say but trailed off when she drew closer to him. He watched in stunned silence as her delicate fingers skilfully freed him from the self-made fabric noose around his neck.

Who is she? He’d never met a woman like her before in his life, and he’d met a great deal many women. She could be an enemy spy and he would happily give her whatever information or access she demanded, if only for more time with her. She was intelligent, dedicated, and even humorous, but she also flushed with the quickness of the inexperienced.

An alluring combination. A mystery.

When she’d finished, he wrapped her hands in his while they were still held by his neck. His own coy approach evaporated from the heat of her intimate gesture.

“Yes, much. Thank you. It appears you're a woman of many talents.”

He looked over his shoulder to give a nod to Freeosk, then would lead her by the hand to the cozy little table, pulling a chair out for her before taking his own.

Freeosk knew what the nod meant. It meant Bradshaw wanted him to instruct the pilot to get the Phoenix moving and while the proud bodyguard hated the idea of being relegated to the position of courier, he knew it wouldn’t do any good to argue this time and so reluctantly exited the room for the bridge, the door sliding closed behind. Moments later the engines whirred and the ship began to move with a gliding upward arc.

“Sapir tea,” he explained while he started pouring two cups, “I suspect the two of you have already met. No one can meet with my mother without being introduced to her favorite addiction.” He chuckled. “Can’t say I care nearly as much about it as she does, that’s impossible, but it grows on you.”

He took a quick sip. “So, how’d you get so good with collars and ties? I’ve been trying to do that for hours.”

- [member="Klesta"] - [member="Lady Kay"] - [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] -[member="Veiere Arenais"] - [member="Cassius Droma"] -​

 

[Sor-Jan Xantha]

​

Farquar III​

"...we drop a satellite here, we might as well look at opening negotiations with Belasco or Attanox."

The rest of the meeting had gone like he'd imagined it would. Forseen one might say, except Sor-Jan didn't really believe in relying on the Force for those sorts of things. Too many variables. Too many coincidences that were moving about randomly. The future wasn't so much pre-determined as it was put in place by a happy medium of chance and circumstance.

The boy was standing off a broad avenue that ran alongside a river. His left wrist was brought up toward his face, as he spoke into the HoloLink he wore on his arm.

"You're committed to opening markets in the Alliance then?"

Captain Gerald might have been a fine Levantine officer, but he'd have made a bad Corellian. He showed too much of his hand. He wanted Sor-Jan to green light opening forays into the Commenor Systems Alliance and took every opportunity to whittle away at the boy's stubborn reluctance at trusting these unknown variables that kept cropping up like some ill-advised remnant of the regimes that had collapsed in the last couple of years. The Galactic Republic, Mandalorian Clans, or One Sith.

You knew that when you contracted with the Galactic Alliance or the Silver Jedi that you were going to get paid. But these young political entities that had sprung up in the last five years? Sor-Jan had every idea that one of them could be gone next month, and his company could wind up having to write off a sizable chunk of debt as a result.

Plus, he already had one charity case in the Outer Rim Coalition. "Have com-scan start developing options for placement of the subspace relay," the boy remarked, ignoring the man's thinly veiled agenda for the time being.

The problem was, Captain Gerald wasn't wrong and Sor-Jan wasn't one to admit it. One of Corellia Digital's subspace relays covered a 100 lightyear range in any direction. That put Belasco several Commenor Systems in range of Corellia Digital's network. So it might be time to gamble on the Alliance being more than another fly-by-night production.

 

[Silfe Sosuri]

Post: 2
Location: Royal Palace landing pad, Chasin City, Commenor.
Objective: Drink a little tea, give a guy a second chance… aaand attend the Farquar III meeting
Company: Bradshaw Ku and a retinue of security and staff
Allies: CSA, friends of CSA
Enemies: enemies of CSA

As his hands took hers, she reveled in the simple moment and intimate touch before his witty charm flashed and made her relax once more. She smiled up at him as he led her to the table where the promised tea awaited. They were finally and blessedly alone. What she could do with that, her imagination could run wild with ideas, but for now it was just enough to be present with him. The ship's engines could be heard whirring up as she took her seat. The tea was something she had come to know due to Kay. She enjoyed its light flavor.

Silfe added a bit of sugar and cream to her tea cup after [member="Bradshaw Ku"] poured. She sipped but coughed a little at his question and statement about his abilities with his own tie. Quickly covering her mouth with a napkin, she coughed and laughed in unison. Finally able to speak, she grinned saying, "Well I have had a lot of practice. My father was particularly fond of ties. I actually know quite a few differing types of knots and untying is actually far easier than tying as I am sure you are aware." She blushed a little as her imagination went from untying a tie to other forms of undressing, it being far easier than dressing.

 

[Xaedrin Vondiranach]

Post: #1
Location: On board the Beginner's Luck, an Allanar N3 Light Freighter
Objective: Sometimes you're just in the right place at the right time
Company: None, yet
Allies: None, yet
Enemies: None ... yet
In the Vicinity of: [member="Lady Kay"] | [member="Veiere Arenais"] | [member="Mad Jack Son'ov'a"]

With the blue lines of hyperspace flying by outside the viewports, Xaedrin leaned back in the Luck's pilot chair, folding his hands on his lap. What a boring life this would be, cargo runs from one end of the galaxy to the other. It was a role for hermits and rodents, not important enough to offer any valuable contribution to the galaxy. It wasn't his life. Kark, it wasn't even his freighter. But he made it look as though it was, having 'purchased' it from its original owner and taken over its shipping contracts. It wasn't too difficult to come by well-forged documentation, you simply had to know which wheels in the great cogs of bureaucracy to grease. Given the rampant corruption of the galaxy, then, it was no surprise that this little jaunt - carrying a shipment of engineering components to Farquar III - had been rather easily set up, complete with a contract that predated the inception of this diplomatic mission. Now it was all about waiting patiently. Xaedrin was good at that.

After Kwenn Station, Xaedrin had a score to settle with the upstart that had bested him. It didn't matter that he wasn't himself - both by alien incursion and by Jedi design - no one would be able to hold power over him like that and live. Neither he nor the universe would allow it. So he'd done his research, looking into his identity and discovering anything he could about his past. He'd discovered that he was the prince of Commenor, son of the two most influential people in the CSA. He'd learned other things, too - things that would best be brought out at a later time. In his research, Xaedrin decided it wasn't enough for the boy to die - he needed to utterly destroy him. And so he would. It was only happenstance when he encountered yet another seeking to destroy the same man, and through that happy coincidence he came into the possession of a very valuable source of intel. Thus his short tenure as a down-on-his-luck cargo pilot.

As he mused, a quiet beeping began to emanate from the console ahead of him, accompanied by a small, flashing red light. It was a communications indicator, informing him that he was picking up an emergency distress beacon. Undoubtedly, it was meant for the associates of the ship from which it originated, but the thing about communications in space was that the only way to keep them from being intercepted by anyone listening was by sending a tight beam line. And for that you had to know the exact location of your target in three-dimensional space. That was not easy. Picking up the signal while passing by would seem totally natural, since they were both travelling on a fairly standard shipping lane.

With a smile, Xaedrin leaned forward and disengaged the hyperdrive, reverting to real space approximately 2000 meters behind the distressed ship.

Xaedrin opened a channel and adopted a friendly air. "This is Beginner's Luck responding to an emergency signal - what's your situation?"

 

[Klesta]

Location: Pesmenben IV
Objective: Peddling ergonomic assessments

"Second question: what's your vision of the ideal ergonomic assessor?"

"Tireless commitment to bettering workplace health and safety, and also attention to detail"

By now the Sith Inquisitor was making more money from ergonomic assessments than it did off media. Clearly he needed to make sure that the core values and purpose, that is, the why and how they are in business, respectively, best captured in a mission statement, would not be compromised in new hires. Also, more than simply a vision, the BHAG, the big, hairy, ambitious goal, is going to be the main driver for future growth of the company. It was equally important, then, to ensure that 1) they trusted talent managers to hire people that will 2) fit the core values and purpose. But, since they already were the largest WH&S firm in the galaxy, it can no longer be a valid BHAG, and also they needed to be wary of the "we have arrived" syndrome. Meanwhie, it was obvious to the Xi Charrian ergonomic assessor in the nearby office that the Xi Charrian SOP was no longer cutting it and hence he stopped trying to translate it from Xi Charrian to Basic. Klesta continued taking notes while the interview was underway, dealing with conflict resolution.

 

[Bradshaw Ku]

Post: 4
Location: Aboard Commenori Phoenix, en route to Farquar III
Objective: Drink a little tea, do a LOT a flirtin’… meeting? What meeting?
Company: [member="Silfe Sosuri"], Freeosk (Yuzzem Bodygaurd), too many Commenori security details
Enemies: Mad Jack Son’ov’a and the Ministers of Ungentlemanly Business (just doesn’t know it yet)

Bradshaw’s eyebrows raised in surprise and delight at Silfe’s reaction. He was truly beaming now. It didn’t matter that he was just having a drink on his way to some political meeting. He hadn’t even given the distinct lack of hard alcohol at the table, a corellian whiskey or commenori brandi perhaps, a second thought. The presence of which was always the first and last tool in the arsenal of a playboy and a must for any smuggler worth the name. It was enough that they were together and could talk. For the first time in his life, he was sitting alone with an attractive woman but wasn’t thinking of ways to get her into bed. His mind hadn’t even gone that far, until the last thing she said.

Untying is actually far easier than tying as I am sure you are aware…​

​

Triggered.

A charming, confident smirk etched onto his features. The player was beginning to step up to the table. Surely, she was practically begging him -- he quickly ran through the events of their date so far, all the blushing, flirting, the whole tie thing. From instinct built and reinforced from a decade of experience, he started to think strategically about their interactions. The simple enjoyment he previously derived earlier from the present was begging to be replaced by a game-plan for the future.

“I think we both know I’m very aware of how to… untie things.” He said while purposefully looking into her eyes, before changing his tone to something lighter.

“Maybe I was just too nervous before having tea time with such a lovely government official?” Speaking of which,” he leaned back in his chair, now conscious of how forward he’d been leaning, almost as if he were about to pounce. “Your dad taught you about ties and knots, did he also teach you politics? I mean, why be a politician?” a chuckle escaped him.

- [member="Xaedrin Vondiranach"] - [member="Klesta"] - [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] - [member="Lady Kay"] - [member="Veiere Arenais"] -​

 

[Mad Jack Son'ov'a]

Post: 3
Location: Chilin’ with a hostage on the Kingsguard
Objective: Doctor’s Orders – Let the games begin
Company: Suga’
Allies: Rest of the Ministers of Ungentlemanly Business
Enemies: [member="Lady Kay"], [member="Veiere Arenais"] (AKA Queer-air…), the CSA and its allies

Having cracked open the cover plate of an exhaust vent, Gar’Jub and Bub’Jub now crawled ever deeper into the heart of the Kingsguard. Their exoskeletal covering clanking loudly against the vent’s metallic inner lining. Their heavy breathing sounding not unlike that once feared Sith Lord, Darth Vader, as the air made its way through the processors. Which, caused them to periodically burst into high-pitched squeaky laughter, very much unlike Darth Vader.

They were nothing if not consummate professionals.

“You’re not listening to me, are you?” Asked a monotonic male voice over their headsets. It wasn’t so much that the voice lacked the ability to change tone or, sound more interesting, Neil, the Nihilistic Med-Droid, just wasn’t inclined to put in the effort.

More laughter from the Ewok twins. More loud clanking.

“I don’t know why I bother. Anyway. It is exceedingly important you understand not to mix the two reagents before drinking the antidote, other wise-”

The sound of sheering metal. A pop. Then two thumps.

“You’ve crawled directly on top a vent opening, haven’t you?” Neil asked disinterestedly. He knew the answer.

Ewokese threat filled shrieks buzzed out from the dash ahead of him. The rest of the light cruiser a blissful, silent, nothingness. This seemed like the sort of time one should sigh, but he couldn’t see the point.

--- --- --- --- --- ---​

​

The Ewok twins had indeed forgotten not to climb on top of the open vents. Too busy making breathing noises with their suits. They fell from the small opening and into the room occupied by the King and Queen like a pair of teddy bears falling from a shelf, except that they were much heavier and a bit more dangerous. Bub’Jub quickly tumbled off his brother, taking up a combat pose, blaster aimed at Lady Kay.

The damage, though, had already been done. Two broken vials lay next to Gar’Jub’s little feet. The spilled contents of which, once mixed, would react to near explosive effect creating a nasty knockout gas that would creep throughout the ship, it wouldn’t kill anyone, but it would do wonders for the crew’s insomnia.

--- --- --- --- --- ---​

Meanwhile, Mad Jack’s eyes narrowed. A powerful force user – a Jedi – made himself known, his aura radiating like a candle in the dark from somewhere within the vessel. It was gross, but far from surprising. The Commenor King was famous for being a Jedi Master.

Meanwhile, Mad Jack’s comm signalled the reception of an open channel transmission from outside the Kingsguard. It was a friendly sounding man, and the man was enquiring about the vessels obvious issues.

“Looks like it’s about time to move on to act three. Just need to get Veiere’s attention. How do you think we should do that, Suga'?” he asked facetiously. They both already knew what they were going to do.

“I could poke a few holes in this one,” the Twi’lek offered cheerfully.

“No, no. We don’t want to do that,” he pulled the Zabrak woman to her feet, off the bed and away from the threatening blade.

A force fuelled fist blindsided the woman in the face, nearly shattering her cheekbone. She crumpled to the floor.

“Have to keep the blood on the inside, for now.”

- [member="Klesta"] - [member="Xaedrin Vondiranach"] - [member="Sor-Jan Xantha"] - [member="Silfe Sosuri"] - [member="Cassius Droma"] -​

 

[Cassius Droma]

Post: Three
Location: Pesmenben IV
Objective: Retrieve the Sacred Demon Head

Cassius cursed under his breath. There just had to be smugglers and pirates in this cave. Nothing was ever easy, was it? As this was one of his first archaeological expeditions, the young Jedi hoped that this wasn’t going to be a consistent trend in his adventures. While another person might think of this as fun, Cassius still didn’t like the idea of being shot at, even if he was a more competent Jedi now.

His breaths came out in a slow, even rhythm as he tried to figure out the best course of action. Stealth wasn’t exactly the best option. He hadn’t learned the more advanced Force techniques in order to mask himself from the eyes of others, and there was no path to the other side of the cavern that allowed him any type of physical cover. A distraction wouldn’t work either - everyone was too spread out…

A felt a presence behind him. Before he could turn around, though...

“Hey, who’re you?” a gruff voice asked, and Cassius turned to see a blaster being immediately drawn to point at him. A shot was fired, but in a flash of motion, Cassius drew his lightsaber and activated it, drawing a horizontal block across his body. The blaster was redirected straight into the chest of the smuggler, leaving him to fall backwards with a smoldering, deadly wound.

This of course drew the attention of everyone else in the chamber, as they could all now see the man with the brightly glowing weapon in the dark hallway. Frantic motions were made to pull out weapons, and Cassius decided he needed to move. Leaping down from his perch, Cassius charged the nearest group of smugglers, using the Force to quicken his movements. With tight, precise arcs, Cassius was able to dismember the men firing at him, and he kept moving around the room until it had been cleared.

Knowing that shouting and blaster fire would have alerted practically anyone else left in the caverns, Cassius sped towards the next hallway. The sounds of boots coming up to greet him meet his ears, and Cassius gathered Force energy in preparation. The moment he saw the group of four smugglers round a corner, heading straight for him, Cassius unleashed a powerful Force push attack, leaving the smugglers a mess of limbs and shouts.

Cassius lept over them, continuing further into the cave.

 

[Kay-Larr]

Post: 5
Location: The Kingsguard
Objective: Get out of trouble
Company: [member="Veiere Arenais"]
Enemies: [member="Mad Jack Son'ov'a"] and co.
Unknown: [member="Xaedrin Vondiranach"]

Terrac was back in the cockpit when Xaderin sent his message. The fire dampners did their job, extinguishing the flames as they were programmed to. At least something worked. The second stroke of luck came when an answer to their beacon was heard. He flicked the comms switch and responded. ~Beginner's Luck this is Captain Terrac of the Kingsguard for the Systems Alliance. We've encountered...uh...I don't know what. Fires are out, but we're adrift. Long range communications are also out. Any assistance would be great.~

Just what that assistance consisted of, he didn't know. The exact details of what was going on weren't known either. And he hated that. What was worse was something came on the sensors begore disappearing. This felt bad. They were under attack more than likely. But by who or what remained to be seen. And that made him very uncomfortable.

***********************​

The two ewoks suddenly fell from a panel in the ceiling. Kay wasn't expecting it at all. More than likely Veiere wasn't expecting it either. She fell back onto the bed in surprise, her head tilted up to see what had fallen into the room. In the darkness she saw what appeared to be two ewoks in suits. And one was holding a blaster right at her.

Kay tightened her jaw as a hissing sound began, one not unlike hot metal going into cold water. That was when she saw the flash of light as the chemical compounds mixed. Smoke started to rise in the air. Kay had to do something quick. She let go of her control over her Force signature, the ace up her sleeve and used it to enhance her throw while she took her pillow and threw it hard at the Ewok holding the blaster. She wasn't trying to disarm him, but instead knock him into the other in a bid to distract them as she stood from the bed and whipped the blanket off, throwing it down onto where the smoke was coming from, hoping to at least buy them more time. She had no idea what it was, but if the ewoks had wanted them dead, then they'd of been shot by now.

With both Veiere and herself to fight off the two, they had a better chance. But still, Kay had to be careful.