Our Place Among The Stars [Galactic Alliance Tier 3 Dominion of the Copperline Hex.]

[Cathul Thuku]

Post: 19/38 (writer) 13/5 (IGR Brokerage)
Location: Kriselist
Allies: Unknown
Enemies: Unknown
Objective: Rebuild social housing

"Buckethead witch! I never imagined bucketheads would be able of witchcraft at that level!" the injured worker commented, while Force-healing acted on his injury.

"Now, do you imagine bucketheads to be dark-siders? Or unable to use the Force?"

"Dark-siders for those who can use the Force but most of them can't"

"The trick is that one can simultaneously follow the Jedi Code and the Mandalorian Code"

While additional pilings got their duracrete poured, Cathul thought of just how exactly one could follow both the Resol'nare and the Jedi Code without interference from one another. The Teyan Apologia introduced many, many tenets that made the Jedi look like a monastic order with a lot of implications, even though it is not part of the Code proper, whereas the Resol'nare, often called the Mandalorian Code by non-Mandalorians, is far more limited in scope, with only one tenet that had any room for interpretation: the welfare of the clans. Yet nearly all Jedi in Mandalorian service are Guardians, and many Mando Jedi preferred Djem-so because it was a lightsaber style that fitted with wearing a beskar'gam. Che'vitiin was one reason why all Jedi in Mando service were trained as Jedi after they became Mandos, unless they were Mandos from birth; che'vitiin demands that people who became Mandos after they undertook Force-training to leave their Force-denomination behind. And never did the bare-bones Jedi Code preclude one from wearing armor or speaking mando'a, nor did it prevent one from using the Force to defend family and self, or even to raise one's kids as Mandos, much less to be called to action by the Mand'alor.

 

[Choli Vyn]

Location: Bomis Koori IV
Objective: His Last Command
Allies: The Galactic Alliance, [member="Astarii Saren"], Karen Roberts, Ajira Cardei, @Asmus Janes, Choli Vyn, @Vance Caydence [member="Zark"]
Enemies: The Vanguard
25

---

With a burst of engine thrust, Choli soon spewed from the Rogue Carrier into the black along with the rest of her Squadron. Alongside her was Rogue Three, her Wingman in arms. His name was Nfie Pa, a Duros with a heck of a piloting ability and hundreds of hours under his belt in dog fighting. He was the type of pilot Choli hoped she'd be able to learn from. With Alexandra Russo gone, the young woman found a small part of her missing having another woman to bond with.

Nfle's voice came crackling through her headset, [ Move up, bogey's up ahead! ]

[ Roger that Rogue Three. ] the brunette pipped back out, rolling her pilot stick to the right to bank. Sure enough, those small beeps began to bloom across her sensors. This was going to be a heck of a ride against the Vanguard.

A few short hoots and a whistle caught Choli's attention. R4 threw in his own two credits worth of precautions.

"I know Arr Four," Choli replied back, S-foils unlocking and her HUD coming online.

"But this time..." a lick of her lips. "This time we end it!"

 

[Noire Vanya Tal]

C A L O N I C A
Objective |||
Post 3/5 for Potential Mara Tibx Contract for geological trade surveys down the Corellian Trade Spine
[member="Mobius"]
| 26 |

---

Calonica. A temperate world along the Corellian Trade Spine. In the height of its glory, it had been a former Imperial World. After the gulag virus hit and the four hundred year darkness, the trade world had declined in trade. In the past, the planet's capital had been surrounded by 50,000 LX-2 comlink mines. However, a spot inspection found that less than ten percent of the mines contained explosive charges. A later investigation revealed that the Alliance to Restore the Republic had discovered the mine's comm code and disarmed them remotely. Then they were dug up, the explosives removed, and buried back in the ground.

However, this left a considerable amount of material and metal in the ground. Much of which had not been able to deteriorate adequately. MaraTibx hoped to change that by contracting to dig them back up and salvage the material, perhaps even be able to replicate the LX-2 mines for Browncoat Arms to produce their own. A small permit had been granted and the Mara Tibx & Fuels team set out on the three month job to remove the ancient mines and tally the fruitfulness and potential of the land for agricultural needs.

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Post: 20/38 (writer) 14/5 (IGR Brokerage)
Location: Kriselist
Allies: Unknown
Enemies: Unknown
Objective: Rebuild social housing

Now that the excavation was nearly completed, Cathul could oversee the beams and duracrete being poured inside the pilings of what is to become the centerpiece of the first district built under the contract she received confirmation from the Reconstruction Authority just a few days ago. But because she doesn't have as much Force-power in the tank as she used to have, she will have to reduce her use of space magic; she used way too much of it in a short span of time. Yet she knew that she did what she could about her personally contributing to the project: she has been rather hands-on as a leader. But while the excavation was completed for the main building, the excavation crews moved on to nearby lots, where they commenced excavation for the next auxiliary buildings. But until the business is finished, Cathul was to remain in the construction site of the main building to oversee the entire project.

"Ma'am, there seems to be a shortage of duracrete!"

"When will the next shipment of duracrete arrive?"

"The duracrete will arrive tomorrow"

"I hope there will be enough duracrete to last through tomorrow"

 

[Roth Tillian]

Bomis Kori IV- His Last Command
[member="Choli Vyn"] [member="Zark"] @Asmus James [member="Zark"]
3/38
--------------------------------

Despite the pain in his shoulder, Roth smiled. He was back where he belonged- not in a board room with a bunch of corporate bigwigs. No, he was back in a starfighter cockpit with the remainder of the Wild Knights. The Omega War had cost them dearly, even in the reconnaissance mission. The rescue mission had heavy costs as well. They had been rotated out of active duty until everything was back in order.

But then this happened. The main Alliance fleet had been led into a trap and all hands were needed for this battle. It was one of the largest fleets the Vanguard had ever assembled. The Wild Knights were back in action. Deploying in the OS-G2 Knight fighters this time. No more recon fighters if Roth had anything to do with it. They simply weren't fast enough or heavily armed enough for any serious dog-fighting engagement.

He studied the scanners as the small squadron dropped into realspace. It was chaos- so many ships blasting away at each other with masses of starfighters. Even with his time behind the cockpit, he couldn't quite make heads nor tails of everything going on. But one thing was for certain. A certain TIE ace had cut through a carrier's fighter escort and was pounding the ship itself, leaving a shredded Blue Squadron behind.

Roth double checked the name of the carrier and grinned. Unless he was mistaken, that was the Rogue's carrier. The closest thing the Knights had to a rival squadron. Now here he was having to save their carrier while they were who-knew-where. They didn't appear anywhere on his HUD.

But oh well, he'd explain them how he saved their carrier while they were off gallivanting.

"Wild Knights, moving to escort position. Carrier Rebel's Hope. Looks like we got an Imp Ace giving them some trouble. I'll take lead, rest of you tackle the wingmen. Go in with an illusion to scatter them."

"Roger that, Knight One."

Roth switched the channel, targeting the carrier itself.

"Rebel's Hope, this is Knight One. Seems you've got a fighter problem," Roth's voice tinged with a hint of amusement. "We're here to take care of it for you."

He pushed the throttle forward, ,sending the fighter darting forward, weaving his way through the assembled Alliance fleet. Lasers and explosions rocked past him, but he ignored them all. There was a TIE/D up ahead, with a crimson stripe. Alliance pilots were good, but for an Imp pilot to reach that level? That pilot had to be their best.

Which, far as Roth could tell, was still not near as good as him, so he should be the one to handle it. The carrier grew larger in the viewport as he approached- with a small ship buzzing about. That was his target.

"Beginning attack run," Roth said through his comm. He took a deep breath and settled himself in the Force, expanding his presence from his body to encompass his entire starfighter. Now he strode amidst the stars, engines for feet, and stood amid the capital ships, with guns for hands. He was mediocre at best when it came to ground engagements, but when it came to space, he stood among the stars.

He crafted an image in his mind, of an entire squadron of fighters bearing down, replicating his fighter's image. No time for customization, so there were no identifying marks. Just a group od stock standard fighters. Then he sent that to the mind of the ace. From his sense here, it felt strange, like pieces were missing, but still a bit of humanity left.

 

[Asmus Janes]

Spoiler

Rogue One/CO – Commander [member="Asmus Janes"] “Slick”
Rogue Two – Flight Officer [member="Aedan Lochlan"] “Beardface” [OCC LOA]
Rogue Three – Vacant
Rogue Four – Vacant
Rogue Five – Lieutenant [member="Loske Matson"] [OCC LOA]
Rogue Six – Flight Officier [member="Cal Sedaire"]
Rogue Seven - Lieutenant [member="Choli Vyn"] “Smalls”
Rogue Eight – Flight Officer [member="Vale Endriss"] "Eight Ball"
Rogue Nine/XO –
Rogue Ten – Vacant
Rogue Eleven – Vacant
Rogue Twelve – Flight Officer [member="Lucius Varad"] “Songbird”
Rogue Thirteen – Flight Officer [member="Allyson Locke"] “Lucky”
Rogue Fourteen – Lieutenant [member="Owen Holst"] “Pie”

[member="Veino Garn"] [member=Zark]

Veino would receive no reply from Janes. The entire squadron was on covert mode. Manoeuvring thrusters and communications silence. The message was, however, received.

Asmus kept his eyes on the displays. Even they were a dull red to minimise the chance of any optical sensors picking them up. Unlikely in an asteroid field that was currently brightly lit by a star, but in dark space any light source was a giveaway.

Gentle motions if the flight stick with his right whilst his left thumb worked a small control for precise thruster bursts. They couldn't even use active sensors to give a clear view of the asteroids, their velocities and distances. Fortunately one of the Alliance cruisers was scanning the field and transmitting as much data as it could over an encrypted channel, but there were dark patches.

He could see an asteroid looming before him, but the eyes could deceive. He had thought it large and distant, but the rate at which it's size changed suddenly made him realise it was much close.

"Kark," he swore. He ground his teeth as his thrusters dropped his nose and he was forced to use a gentle burst of ion thrusters to drop him beneath it. The rock was barely meters over his canopy.

That was enough, he decided. They were far behind the destroyer they were targeting, but the density of the field was rapidly increasing.

He turned his X-Wing towards the edge of the field. He flicked a switch and his console lit up. S-foils locked into attack position and his engines unleashed a beautiful roar.

"Rogue Squadron, target that destroyer's shield generator. Veino Garn has some mad plan. One Flight move ahead and draw the fighters and break away. Everyone else get ready to make your run!"

They were coming in from behind the destroyer, slightly below and to its flank. The defensive fire would be greatly reduced and it was unlikely to be able to manoeuvre itself around. Sending their attack fighters forwards was about to cost the Vanguard.

 

[Noire Vanya Tal]

K R I S E T L I S T
Objective |||
Pos 4/5 for Potential Mara Tibx Contract for geological trade surveys down the Corellian Trade Spine
[member="Mobius"]
| 27 |

Word had spread to the Companion that her stop to Bomis Koori would have to be rescheduled to nearby Kriselist. A battle was raging over the planet, and civilians were warned to stay out of the system until Alliance personnel were able to secure it.

Concern would mar the olive skin tone of the brunette. Who knew how long that would take? As it was, she was to meet with Bomis Koori trade guild here. Perhaps she would cross paths with Linna? It was entirely possible. The Zeltron had been assigned to take charge here and Noire did not want to hindrance her. The woman excelled at her work and Noire had Linma to thank for her updates.

“Miss Noire?”

Turning to the voice, the Companion gave a small smile.

“Namaste,” she gave a bow in greeting.

“I wish we could have met in better circumstances,” noire began,” but I am humbly grateful for your audience…”

 

[Lvia]

K R I S E T L I S T
Objective |||
Pos 1/5 for Potential Aurum Saacs Contract for funds relief and banking services down the Corellian Trade Spine
Mobius
| 28 |

Aurum Saacs Bank was a subsidiary of Arceaneau Trade. It was the bank used for all of Arceaneau Trade's banking services as well as public servicing of checking, savings, certificate of deposits, business and personal loans, military discount banking, educational grants, and insurance services.

They worked in conjunction with Eve Foundation, the humanitarian aide non profit that had been founded by Alric Kuhn and Danger Arceaneau. Across the galaxy, Aurum Saacs banks, service centers, and ATMs would display the following message for donations.

[ Would you like to donate five credits to the Kriselist Reconstruction Fund? ]

With as many locations in every ATC trade station, this provided a large spread of access to donation funds. All the while, a representative of the bank came to Kriselist to discuss the opening of a local sector headquarters.

 

[Ciana Teigra]

Location: Pryholt, Kriselist
Objective: Provide immediate disaster relief, establish Panacea site on Kirselist (GA Contract, Location Codex entry, Tech development)
Allies: Galactic Alliance & Friends
Enemies: N/A
Posts: 3/38 (3/5 for contract)

It would still be some time before the first surgery could be observed, so Ciana showed the mayor and chancellor around the rest of the facilities on the way to the communication center set inside a repurposed office. After the maternity ward, this was the most heavily guarded area of the field house, under constant guard by a dedicated team of guards and drones. Inside, there was an army of technicians busy at their consoles, coordinating with other teams on Kriselist and throughout the sector.

"In addition to medical services, the Teigra Foundation has established a temporary network in the region along with other service providers affiliated with the GA. The local network is being run off Panacea's own biocomm network as its backbone."

"People are often surprised to discover that Panacea is in the communication business, with our focus being biotech, but a large part of our operation includes deploying tier 1 networks for use by local HSPs. We're able to do so much more cheaply and efficiently, eliminating the need for nodes across the galaxy - sometimes through hostile space - and cutting down on data centers for local caches to each sector and system."

"I would like for Panacea to team up with municipalities and HSPs to keep your people connected to the greater galaxy with a more permanent solution. In the unfortunate event that Krislet's satellites are destroyed once more, ground stations would still be able to function."

 

[Zark San Tekka]

Location: Bomis Koori IV
Objective: His Last Command
Allies: The Galactic Alliance, [member="Astarii Saren"], [member="Ajira Cardei"], [member="Vance Caydence"].
Enemies: The Vanguard
3/38

​

​

Cockpit, Imperial TIE Defender
Alliance Line, Bomis Koori IV
Vanguard Battlegroup

Several different bomber squadrons had commed Ebon Leader looking for an escort on their attack run, and each time Commandant Cross ignored the the robotic pleas piped in through the auricular package that had long ago replaced his tympanic membrane. Nonetheless he was eventually joined by what was left of his wing as well as the occasional opportunistic TIE seeking to survive under his aegis, but he paid them no mind. Instead, he focused on continuing his harassment of the Alliance carrier and her escorts, gunning down another X-Wing and forcing the remainder of Blue Squadron back under the shadow of the Hope's point defense flak with minimal assistance, several pilots having to make emergency landings back in the hangar bay due to severe systems damage. Viktor was by no means prone any longer to idle fantasy, but a brief image flashed in his mind of an imaginary Rogue Leader hearing the dying screams of his comrades over his comms, the pilot's features twisted and gnarled by years of One Sith and Vanguard sponsored propaganda coloring his perceptions. He would quickly learn to regret even that minuscule indulgence.

"What?" Cross said aloud, as the warning alarms began wailing seconds before the first shots struck his bow.

From such extreme range, the laser blasts had been low powered and glancing, not taking too much out of his shields but certainly enough to get Ebon Leader's attention. Not many pilots could sneak up on him, and there were even fewer who could make a shot like that. The Commandant's integrated consciousness raced to pull up sensor telemetry while his head whipped around back and forth rapidly, scanning for visual target acquisition. The optical circuitry in his implants rapidly realigned in startled focus as he saw not just one of the Omega Pyre Knight starfighters, but two whole squadrons of them. The first broke off onto his wingmen, while the second slipped into an intercept course. Cursing silently and astounded by his turn of fortune, Cross saw no other option in the moment than to break and run, though it would likely cost him his prize. Banking sharply and kicking up his sublight to the maximum threshold for structural tolerance, Ebon Leader went ballistic on an escape vector.

"Wait..." he muttered to himself, as several of the data readouts his consciousness was processing threw up some confusing red flags, "Something's not right..."

His visual sighting and even a glance at his sensors had shown a full squadron burning hard in his direction, but the rest of his telemetry seemed to suggest there was only one starfighter, not twelve. Cross was faced with a choice; trust what remained of his senses, or trust his ship. All around him on his way out, TIEs had been torn to shreds with ease, flying in desperate evasive patterns in fear of their own personal Knight squadron. Some had gotten the idea to follow the Commandant out, but were picked off by Wild Knight sharpshooting. Ebon Leader waited until they were far enough out from his mates but before the Wild Knight commander on his tail lost interest and broke off. Snarling, he pulled another impossibly demanding maneuver with a tight reverse in directions, now hurtling at a high velocity directly for the Wild Knight in a head to head contest.

"You will not deny me!" Viktor roared to no one as his cannons fired in controlled, calculating bursts.


[member="Roth Tillian"]

​

​

Bridge, Unyielding-class Command Cruiser ANS Rebel's Hope
Stationary, Bomis Koori IV
Federation Task Force

Both the Captain and executive officer's expressions contorted in conflicting emotions as the now deathly silent bridge listened in horror to the sounds of the Vanguard ace picking apart Blue Squadron. For the Captain, it made him question every command decision he had made up to that point, and for the Commander it was a harsh and tragic reminder of the horrendous starfighter losses the 5th Expeditionary Fleet had taken over Castameer, while he had been in command. They were putting up a valiant fight, but Imperial reinforcements were almost upon them and the Defender pilot wasn't letting up. The remainder of Blue Squadron was inbound, but they wouldn't beat the Imperials. If the Alliance fighters surrendered the field completely, the Rebel's Hope would be all but defenseless against the first roving squadron of bombers that happened by, a process that was sure to be expedited by the Imperial pilots that would be by then swarming their point defenses.

"Rebel's Hope, this is Knight One. Seems you've got a fighter problem," an unfamiliar voice crackled over their battle comms, a deeper hush falling over the room as a new frequency appeared before them on the projection, symbolically overlaying a new group of tiny holographic vessels with Alliance transponders, "We're here to take care of it for you."

Cheers erupted throughout the bridge as Zark keyed his personal comm, grinning, "Appreciate the hand, Knight One."

"All batteries refocus fire on the Victory II!" Mazik was already ordering, "We need to give Rogue Squadron their cover!"

Captain Pulsar nodded his assent, agreeing with the Commander's assessment. The TR-20s were incredible machines, but every bit of focus they could draw away from the hopefully by now approaching Rogue Squadron would maximize their chances of success. And as long as it appeared as they were trying to deplete the Adjudicator III's shields by by more conventional means, they would be less likely to suspect a sudden strike from a different source. Working at a console below, the third officer split the holographic display into two distinct perspectives, the first being the immediate vicinity of the Rebel's Hope, and the second that of the Adjudicator III. Overseeing the immediate repulsion of TIEs from their wake by the Wild Knights and redirecting their point defense fire to better cover their newfound allies, the Captain kept an eye out for any sign of the Rogue's signal.

"A lot riding on these new stealth birds," Arix mentioned to him as he returned from the hologram, "Garn's entire strike team."

"I know," Zark grunted in reply.

"We can't even be certain they're receiving our transmissions," the Padawan pressed.

"I know," he looked the cyborg in the face this time, "But Commander Janes swears by them, and so does Chief Caydence. That's good enough for me."

As if on queue, a sensor officer shouted contact, the first to pick up Rogue Squadron's reemerging signal as their S-foils locked into attack position. Where normally the Vanguard would have swarmed fighters in response to such an encroaching threat, the Rogues had used their TR-20s to reach striking distance before revealing themselves, and only a scant more than a squadron of TIE Interceptors were within intercept range when the desperate orders reached them to scramble. Trained, eager, but inexperienced, most of the Interceptor pilots aggressively took the bait as a flight of Rogues from the main force moved up to lead the charge, grappling quickly and eagerly pursuing as the X-Wings broke off, assuming they had routed the enemy. Only a scant few remained to contend with the Rogues about to make their attack run.

"You were saying?" the Captain said, watching an approximation of the action projected before him. Arix shrugged in embarrassment.


[member="Asmus Janes"] [member="Choli Vyn"]

 

[Jairus Starvald]

Location: Kriselist.
Objective: 3
Post 7 for Fa Holdings

"I have drawn up names." Grishold finally said, leaving the table with the bloody carcass behind him while rubbing his hands clean by the way of his apron.

"Good men. Dependable ones." A heavy shrug of big shoulders followed as he settled himself, resting gently against his desk. It was filled with paperwork of one quality or the other, yet, the man Grishold did not seem an intellectual to him. A butcher, perhaps, maybe a murderer or a thug... then again.

Looks did not mean anything in this world in his experience.

​

"A good start this is.​

From few we may gain many.​

It is about trust.​

​

What will you need then?​

Every man wants something now.​

Nothing is free, hmm?"​

​

Grishold shrugged. "I make the contacts and you keep coming to me, when you need more. That's all I ask at the end of the day."

Ah, so it was about relevancy. Grishold knew what was happening - the Alliance arriving meant a fundamental shift in the balance of power. In truth, Fa could have done this without him; both of them knew this. Yet, if Tai kept including him- he would have an easier time and the butcher would keep being relevant.

There had to be more than that though.

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Post: 21/38 (writer) 15/5 (IGR Brokerage)
Location: Kriselist
Allies: Unknown
Enemies: Unknown
Objective: Rebuild social housing

While several workers knew that space wizards came in at different power levels, even one at Cathul's level would be a daring sight, especially given her wide array of spells: when night came, she was lucky she had a keg of muja fruit juice delivered ready to fermentate, and her Force-batteries would come right back. She knew the workers must be parched by now, after working all day in a grueling rate, even though Cathul's magic enable the working site to proceed much more smoothly than it would have otherwise had. And faster, too: they exhausted their supply of duracrete for the day and Cathul planned for the duracrete and other materials as though she only brought staff assistance with the Force. But she can only conjure so much duracrete with the Force; she is not that kind of space witch. She gathered the organic workers in a circle with herself and the muja fruit juice keg at the center.

"Now, gather around, I will show that I can transform this keg of muja fruit juice into something better: muja wine!"

"I must admit, I never saw a space witch quite like you. You truly are unique"

"Your space magic feels more like a children's show"

"Hocus pocus!" she exclaimed as she used the Force to fermentate the sugars in the keg.

 

[Kaili Talith]

“Yeah, it’d be onboard the ship that I am building.” Kaili scratched the back of her neck and pulled herself out of the pit of guilt that the man had sent her into. “If you have anyone else that could use a job, or if there is anyone you need to take with you, then I can see to that as well.”

“But why me?” The man asked, Kaili recoiled in surprise. “You can find better people.”

“Can I though?” The girl asked in response. “I have talked to three groups of people so far and out of all three of these groups you are the only one who hasn’t given me the cold shoulder.”

Quin dragged a hand through his rugged black hair trying to find the words. To have gone one day from begging in the streets to being offered a job and housing. Thoughts went to his wife and child and what they needed. Kaili had extended her hand for them as well, but this didn’t feel like a decision that was his to make alone. The hand that had run through his hair ran once more through his beard.

“Can I talk to my wife about this?” He asked.

“Of course,” Kaili nodded. “I’m not in a rush.”

“Good, okay… Uh,” The man hesitated. “Good.”

His feet began shuffling towards the street again. “You’re free to come along, if you want.”

“Uh, sure.” Kaili shrugged. “I’d be happy to.”

The man felt a smirk tug at the corner of his mouth.

“We live around the corner.” The man said, pointing towards another alley.

A knot formed in Kaili’s stomach. She had the sneaking suspicion she knew what that meant.

Post 7​

 

[LT-137]

Location: Orbital Defense Platform "The Fanged Maw."
Objective One: His Last Command - Finish This Fight.
Allies: Galactic Federation of Free Alliances.
Enemies: The Imperial Vanguard.
Post Count: Nine

____________________________________________________________________​

As the brush of bespeckled night once again painted their visors, two Combat Engineers roused themselves from the exterior of the hull, securing their plasma torches and once more brandishing their weapons. The hole they cut glowed white hot, but slowly began to fade to a bubbling orange. Gideon couldn’t tell how long they had been working to make their ingress into the Orbital Platform, as his eyes were drawn elsewhere. Like his men, the Major had kept a wary eye upon the horizon, seeking to locate anything that may do them harm - and cheer their comrades on as they began breaking the Vanguard lines. When the task was complete, and the message passed on down the line, the former Stormtrooper drifted towards the smoldering gap and secured his boots to the outer plating, with one foot on the bubbling sheet of metal.

“Be ready. Breaching in three..” The Balmorran fell silent as he began counting down with his fingers. With the second and third finger curling into a fist, he pushed all of his weight into the sole of his boot, kicking the bulkhead into the station itself. Though the sounds of venting atmosphere had rushed passed the falling metallic plate, there was another sound that had brought a small smile to the soldier’s lips. It was a sickening crunch and the thunderous crack of splintering betaplast, signaling that a Stormtrooper had been caught between the wall on the other side and the severed section of the hull. Coagulated rivulets of blood spun wistfully into the oppressive silence, bathing Gideon’s pristine warplate with pirouetting bubbles of crimson.

Once enshrouded by the exterior of the station, the Major swung his rifle and tracked the shadows - ensuring that he was alone in the dark. Satisfied that no enemy combatants were hiding, lying in wait, the soldier wordlessly directed his men forward with a forceful chop of his opened hand. He kept his gaze on a swivel as the men behind him filtered in. When an entire Squad had secured their ingress, Gideon moved forward down the fluted corridor, stopping now and then to duck into the passageways ribbing. They were in Enemy-held territory now, and even though they were clad in the best armour that the Federation could afford, there was no room for recklessness - not in his company.

They’d do it by the book, and finish this fight by the numbers.

With the corridors cleared, and more units entering the breached station, they began to spread through the Orbital Platform like a virulent infection. They would not do so unhindered, as akin to the human norm, antibodies began to swarm their breach sites - eager to expel the sickness that had infiltrated their station. Reports of Spacetroopers harassing their Rearguard had scrolled across Gideon’s HUD as he slammed his armoured pack against yet another spinal column. He knew that his men would fight back, picking those pesky flies out of the bespeckled skies, but there would be casualties. They were exposed and had little cover in which to protect themselves. That alone would decrease their chances of survival - especially with a single point of entry. Clenching his teeth together, knowing that there was nothing he could do for them, Gideon ordered his men to press on - to pursue their objectives and clear a path for those outside to find shelter within.

Several moments after he had pushed himself off the wall, the Major and a Squad of Troopers had found their path forward blocked by a sealed blast door. Wordlessly directing his men to fan out and secure their position, Gideon pressed his hand against the polished obsidian surface. Behind this door, if their scans of previously boarded stations were correct, was the central arterial passageway that would lead them towards the command deck. Dozens of turbo lifts, with the possibility of heavy resistance. Who knew what else they had done to secure this section of the Platform? They could’ve barricaded it with panels, torn from the bulkhead and hastily welded together. They could’ve established Repeater nests within, so that once these doors had opened, their weapons would tear through any opposition that had sought to seize this juncture forcefully. The possibilities were endless, and as the door was sealed tight, there was no way that he could see what awaited him on the other side.

Withdrawing an Anti-security blade from his utility belt, Gideon slid the harmonic plate behind the access panel and began tuning it’s magnetic resonance to the highest operable level. He heard the faint thrumming of power echo through the enforced silence and knew that the device was doing its job. As their time became sparse, the Major ordered his men into spinal barriers and withdrew the biometrically locked thermal detonator from his belt. Once the harmonic blade had reached full power and pulsed, the magnetic locks sealing the passageway were forced open, causing the blast doors to rumble back into their housing. When they had parted, the Major pressed his thumb atop the activator and primed the Grenade. A satisfied chime cut through the shrieking whine of metal scraping against metal, and as it began to ring once more - the Soldier lobbed the device into the opening, before activating his suit’s Squad-level comms.

“Thermal Det!” He yelled, allowing his voice to pass from one Alliance soldier to the next, forcing them to duck further into whatever meager cover they could find. Terrified screams and shouts of alarm poured through the opening, followed swiftly thereafter by the deafening rattle of the small, thermonuclear explosion that vaporized the junction, and the repeater nest that was settled within. As the heat wave had passed over his armour, filling Gideon with the thrill of the kill, he ducked inside and surveyed the grisly scene.There were no survivors, at least none that he could see. His visor filtered through the billowing trails of smoke, leaving him with a grainy emerald image that rendered the smoldering scene in vivid detail. As his eyes had drifted closer and closer towards ground zero, the traces of his fallen - one-time kin - became nothing more than ashen echoes painting the deck. The deed was done, and an entire Squad of Stormtroopers had been turned to ash by the explosive power of a single grenade.

Such was the horror of tightly packed warfare. There was always something that would render one’s defenses into molten slag.

Putting several bolts of coalesced lightning into the helmets of the soldiers that were partially atomized, Gideon ensured that those men were truly dead. It happened once before, where men that he had thought were corpse roused themselves from the dead and caught his former Commander unawares. Never again. He made sure to do it himself. This was his mess, his mission, and his men. They would learn from his example in time, as all Soldiers did. With the junction secured, the Major turned to his men and ordered them forward. They’d take this position, before moving onto their objectives. It was a large station, and they had plenty of ground to cover.

“You know your objectives,” The Balmorran said over the encrypted network. “Squad by Squad. Move out!”

As the grime caked soldiers began following their Commander’s words, Gideon slapped his hand down upon a comrades pauldron. The man looked a bit shaken, perhaps from the grisly scene behind him, or perhaps from the sensory overload that came with fresh blood on the battlefield.

“How are you doing, Son?” Gideon asked, as his grip tightened.

| [member="HK-36"] | [member="Justice Caydence"] | [member="Zark"] |​

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Post: 22/38 (writer) 16/5 (IGR Brokerage)
Location: Kriselist
Allies: Unknown
Enemies: Unknown
Objective: Rebuild social housing

"How often do space wizards in children's shows use a beskar'gam rather than robes or other light armor?"

"Not very"

"How I often imagined bucketheads like you: brutish, willing to smash heads no matter what. I have to say, you're different: you have some brains"

"How could you say that using the Force requires at least some amount of intellect?"

As for the implications of smarts vs. the Force, the jury is still out on it: on the one hand, some claim that Force-users are so accustomed to using the Force to solve every problem, especially those with big spellbooks, that their brains fry more easily, others claim that judicious use of Force-comprehension and memory enhancement (short and long-term) makes them smarter on the long run, others still claim that it has no effect. She knew that some intellectually-challenged species were rather difficult to train: Vulptereen caused headaches for Sith Lords for this reason. But that wasn't enough in Cathul's mind to prove that using the Force made some intellectual demands, even if nominal. While it was true that she had some brains, she didn't feel as if that person implying that there was some sort of intellectual floor for Force-users, actually knew what said floor was.

 

[Republic Engineering]

Location: Kriselist - Planetside - Capital City
Objective: The Coin of Many Faces - Rebuild the Starport.
Allies: The Galactic Alliance
Post Count: Ten ( Five of Five for minimum REC contract.)


While he had believed that Saffron had left, the Replica Droid was surprised to see that she, in fact, had remained within his office. Merely vanishing from his sight momentarily to handle some business that clambered after her attention in ways that he could never imagine. Such was the burden of responsibility; he mused as his artificially grown eyes watched the woman once more approach his person. It took everything his positronic brain could muster to keep his processors clear, as the primal - more human aspect of his design had sought to cloud his mind with thoughts that would see him debased before the personification of beauty.

Clearing his mind, by forcefully closing the scrolling feed of data and powering down his terminal, the Replica Droid roused himself from his desk and moved to intercept the approaching Representative. Catching her in the open with an apologetic look painting his features, Otto listened to the woman's words as she flawless carried on their conversation from earlier - as if there wasn't an interruption at all. She was curious about his corporation, and what it specialized in. Usually, he would've been insulted that his company had been smuggled under the rug, Otto knew all too well that the Galaxy had all but forgotten about his triumphs before the four hundred years darkness. They were young, restoring themselves back into prominence, so it was only natural that they had forgotten much about their past - especially if it wasn't public and at the forefront of their attention.

"Before the coming of the Gulag Plague, My company specialized in the production of Warships for the New Republic during its infancy and continued producing Warships for the Old Galactic Alliance during the opening phases of the first Yuuzhan Vong invasion. We were forced to relocate to the Outer Rim once those Extragalactic invaders had made Coruscant their home, but after the war was over we reclaimed what was ours." He paused for a moment, noting the ironic foreshadowing the event of the past had played regarding the events of what would become his future. He produced fleets of naval vessels, legions of droids, and entire divisions of tanks for the Galactic Republic as it had come to power in the wake of the Four Hundred Years Darkness. Then the One Sith had come, forcing him once again to flee to the Outer Rim while they nationalized a majority of his assets and began producing their infernal craft from his beloved docks.

Pushing aside the thoughts of the past, he carried on with his story, hoping to ensnare this woman's interest - so that if his company had needed anything from the Arceneau Trading Company, he would know who to go to get the best deal.

"In this current age, the Republic Engineering Corporation continues as it did in the storied past. We produce Warships, Droids, and Vehicles for the Alliance and it's Allies to use in both Militaristic and Humanitarian endeavors." Lifting his arm from it's resting place, the Replica Droid ran his dominant thumb across the chiseled surface of his chin, doing what he could to appear thoughtful as his processors did what they could to determine their specialty. "As for what we specialize in," Otto began once the answer was found. "Currently our facilities can only handle the production of Warships befitting the Heavy Cruiser classification and below. Much of the Orbital Dockyards we once owned on the Centax moons were scuttled by the One Sith following their retreat from the Sector. The same of our surface-based foundries in the Works district. However, thanks to companies like yours and various others that populated the galaxy, we've been able to restore much of the damage wrought by both Alliance and One Sith forces."

Directing his attention outwards, as one of the new prototypical droids had flown passed the crystalline pane's of his office, Otto offered a small smile thanking the machine's spirit for its timely reveal. "In payment of this debt, I've set about to create a multipurpose droid that can be used in a multitude of theaters. That drone you've seen pass us by is the workhorse of our Operation here on Kriselist. It's been doing what the locals cannot, by dealing with the irradiated reclamation and heavy lifting where the contracted lifts aren't able to go."

Tearing his gaze away from the outside world and narrowing his focus to fall upon Saffron and her hazel eyes, Otto's smile grew ever so slightly. "It's odd for a Shipwright to assist with construction, but where better to test out your new products than the front lines, eh?"

| [member="Saffron"] |​

 

[Noire Vanya Tal]

N A A L O L
Objective |||
Pos 5/5 for Potential Mara Tibx Contract for geological trade surveys down the Corellian Trade Spine
[member="Mobius"]
| 29 |


Naalol was a strategically insignificant mountainous planet. It had a series of mountainous towns with small crooked mountainous houses. The people who lived here were valdeer shepherds as well as artisans or miners.

Although the planet was not strategically significant, the Galactic Civil War found its way to the planet. As the Galactic Empire lost more and more territory to the New Republic, it had to gain territory on previously neutral and backwater worlds, including Naalol. A small Imperial garrison on the planet soon grew in size, and a battle was fought between the New Republic and the Empire, with the New Republic winning. In the battle, an entire town was destroyed, and the livelihood of its people would never be the same.

It took centuries of isolation and rebuilding through the Gulag Virus, the Four-Hundred year darkness, and the Netherworld to bring a portion of it back to a somewhat stable, but fragile, economy.

MaraTibx was looking to change that. The work done with various biodomes across the 'verse to perhaps stimulate the land for shepherd grazing and sustainable farming.

 

[Cathul Thuku]

Post: 23/38 (writer) 17/5 (IGR Brokerage)
Location: Kriselist
Allies: Unknown
Enemies: Unknown
Objective: Rebuild social housing

The next day, the delivery of duracrete arrived early in the morning and the whole construction site was gossiping about how this witch in a beskar'gam was going to make the work that much faster. She was almost fully forgiven to the eyes of the Alliance because she is slated to become a major fixture of the Reconstruction Authority, alongside Mara TibX Fuels, if she isn't already. It was getting harder and harder to remind herself that she never swore the oaths of the Jedi with each passing day. She was a Witch all right, but she acts more and more as a Jedi around RA projects. Gossip was definitely not going to go down well... Cathul was expected to, once again, set up beams and weld them using the Force. That is, using F=ma for placing the beams into position, and then increasing the vibrational frequency of the durasteel beams until they melt. That was going to be a long day, but she remained on the main building because she was where her Force-powers help out most. But some other mishap happens:

"It hurts! If you're a space witch, help me out now!"

"That is not good: a broken leg"

"What does that mean?"

"It means that you have to be taken out of the construction site"

 

[Lvia]

K R I S E T L I S T
Objective |||
Pos 2/5 for Potential Aurum Saccs Contract for funds relief and banking services down the Corellian Trade Spine
| 30 |

There was more to banking than met the eye. One had to ensure that the bank had equity and plenty of insurance to cover any loss. As it was, each client were protected up to $250,000 credits in the event the bank would fail. However, with Arceneau Trade's well known shrewd business logic and acumen, there was little doubt that the bank itself would prosper.

With Arcenaeu Trade backing the Bank in Aurodium ingots and peggats, more and more companies were opening checking and banking accounts. Aurum Saccs was a booming name growing in the banking industry, and there were now several small planetary systems using Aurum Saccs as their primary bank. It helped that Arceneau Trade had Aurum Sacc branches in every Trade Station.


Much to what would happen here on Kriselist. A small parcel of land was scouted within the city limits. Once the reconstruction efforts went into motion, Aurum Saccs would build it's headquarters there.

 

[Arieth zh'Vranthi]

Objective Three: The Coin of Many Faces.​

Aboard Galactic Alliance Diplomatic Vessel the Dawn of Sullust.​

| 31 |​

Contract Confirmed for REC​

ATTN: Mr. Otto Shule
REC

Mr. Shule,

The Galactic Alliance along with the Kriselist have reviewed the humanitarian aid and reconstruction provided by REC. We are greatly impressed by your contribution and bid. The funds to fulfill the contract will be transferred to your account.

Thank you once again for your contribution.

Ambassador Arieth zh'Vranthi
The Galactic Alliance