Restoration II: Electric Boogaloo [TU Dominion of Druckenwell]

[Laira Darkhold]

Location: Outer System
Objective: 3B
Allies: Techno Union
Enemies: Pirates
Post: 11/20

The Bes’Drahr had suffered at the hands of her foes, but she had pulled through. There was damage and fires to be put out, damage control crews rushed around to make contain what exposure there was and sealant foam patches covered a sections of the hull where it had been punctured and the foam closed the hole in an attempt to save as much of the crew as possible. While casualties had been minimal, there had been some. Though that was to be expected. It was combat after all. Who entered a war zone and expected to come out unscathed. That was one of the many things ArmaTech specialized in. Surviving, despite being scraped up and cut, we, and our products survived.

“Tell the men to have a drink on me when we get back to Iego. Poor one out for the fallen, and drink the rest for the returned.” I said with a nod, easing my presence back into myself. Passively I could feel and detect emotions in a fairly wide radius, though with so many people, unless I looked closely it wasn’t so much a gps as a compass. I could sense what emotions were where and roughly what direction they were from me. Most people were jovial, but there were spotches of sadness throughout from the lost. But if anything, Druckenwell was secure on our end.

 

[Darth Carnifex]

Location: Nearby
Objective: 4D-23
Allies: Techno Union
Enemies: Stuff
Post: 1/20

The vastness of space...

It's very big, like... extremely big, a literal infinite expanse of nothingness occasionally dotted by celestial bodies and other forms of cosmic constructs that turn the otherwise boring nothing into a semi-interesting cacophony of color and light. And behind the veil of darkness? More darkness, but behind that veil? Color! Lots of color, a swirling mass of lights and sounds used by sentient beings as highways throughout the universe to reach locations much faster than they would trudging through the inky abyss. Through one such corridor churned a ship as black as night, it's crew staunch and diligent as they constantly adjusted the hulking behemoth of steel though hyperspace. If any one of them should falter in their duty it could spell utter doom for all aboard, and thus they were aware of nothing else save their instruments. Behind them were their superiors, high-ranking deck hands that prowled the bridge making sure everyone was doing their job right.

And who was it that dominated the bridge? Why, Darth Vornskr of course! He sat atop a gothic throne of blackened metal that was weirdly grafted onto the dull steel of the bridge deck, and his fingers absently drummed the throne's arms as he gazed out hungrily through the viewport and into the chaotic calamity beyond. A comms officer, dressed in his dark gray attire with a headset strapped to his hairless scalp and a datapad in hand, wobbled up to stand before the Sith Lord.

"Milord, we received reports that the Techno Union have begun to claim Druckenwell for their own."

Vornskr merely smiled and retorted; "Neat."