Star Wars: Reclamation

Party Name: Lorn Supernova (Lorn Corvarian's stage name)
Starting Planet: Coruscant
Party Size: 4
Party Leader: Lorn Corvarian
Party Controller: Murssk
Party Manager: Farguess Shapris
Alignment:
  • Imperium: 13
  • Republic: 8
  • Hutt: 7
  • CIS: 2
  • Rebel: 5

Lorn "Supernova" Corvarian


Yours truly. I was born on a small Outer Rim planet you probably wouldn't even know the name of. Following my parents into farming didn't suit me, so I spent most of my time in the local cantina metting all sorts of interesting people. Worked up a little gig for myself, singing for some local bands for tips. But man, that was just practice. Now I'm Coruscant and let me tell you, I intend to go galactic.

Spoiler :
Name: Lorn Corvarian
Stats
Strength: 9
Dexterity: 9
Constitution: 7
Intelligence: 5
Wisdom: 5
Charisma: 14
Piloting: 6
Loyalty: 11
Race: Human
Class: Trader


Farguess Shapris


My best friend since childhood. Always dreamed himself an officer in the Navy. He wanted to explore the galaxy, fight for the Emperor, and have a good time doing it. Currently he is managing my career while drinking to forget why he followed me instead of following his dreams. It's better for him this way.

Spoiler :
Name: Farguess Shapris
Stats
Strength: 7
Dexterity: 6
Constitution: 8
Intelligence: 10
Wisdom: 10
Charisma: 5
Piloting: 10
Loyalty: 10
Race: Human
Class: Trader


Murssk and Funrk


Two Trandoshan brothers Farguess and I hired as protection. Apparently they did time in the past, and one of the rules of this arrangement was that we not ask what for. Farguess was a bit worried, but they didn't ask for much and the undercity is crawling with criminals. I don't fancy my career ending due to some lowlife killing and robbing me in some alley.

Spoiler :
Name: Murssk
Stats
Strength: 15
Dexterity: 6
Constitution: 17
Intelligence: 2
Wisdom: 7
Charisma: 2
Piloting: 7
Loyalty: 10
Race: Trandoshan
Class: Bounty Hunter


Name: Funrk
Stats
Strength: 14
Dexterity: 8
Constitution: 15
Intelligence: 2
Wisdom: 4
Charisma: 3
Piloting: 9
Loyalty: 11
Race: Trandoshan
Class: Smuggler
 
Party Name: Blood Ravens
Starting Planet: Coruscant
Party Size: Four, our number is not a fowl.
Party Alignment:
  • Imperium:25
  • CIS:10
  • Rebels:0
  • Republic:0
  • The Hutt Cartel:10
Party Leader:
Spoiler Party Leader :
Spoiler for a twi'lek smuggler that doesnt look like a bloody hooker :


Name: Salsale Igorjumi
Stats

Strength: 5
Dexterity: 14
Constitution:5
Intelligence: 12
Wisdom: 7
Charisma: 10
Piloting: 5
Loyalty: 7

Race: Twi'Lek
Class: Smuggler.
Background: A recently recruited Imperial Agent, she currently leads her party with the purpose of smuggling weapons to Imperial cells within Republican worlds.(more might come. Probably.)


Party Controller
Spoiler Party Controller :

Spoiler hi im a bounty hunter because commandos dont real :



Name: Moradin Korne
Stats

Strength: 12
Dexterity: 10
Constitution:10
Intelligence: 7
Wisdom: 7
Charisma: 6
Piloting: 5
Loyalty: 8

Race: Rodian
Class: Bounty Hunter.
Background:He likes shooting Republicans, especially ones that are also shooting at him. So, one day he met with Salsale in one of the many dirty cantinas littering Coruscant, and became part of her party.


Party Manager
Spoiler Party Manager :

Spoiler CALL THE MEDIC :



Name: Erran Sarden
Stats

Strength: 5
Dexterity: 13
Constitution:5
Intelligence: 18
Wisdom: 5
Charisma: 5
Piloting: 8
Loyalty: 8

Race: Gree
Class: Medic.
Background: Erran doesn't speak much about his past, but as a doctor, all that's know is that there was plenty of blood spilt in the wrong places, which eventually resulting into him being fired. Then, as per usual, he met a certain Imperial Agent, and the rest's history.


Designated Pilot
Spoiler stats go here :

Spoiler vroom vroom I'm the driver :



Name:Fias Starfallen
Stats

Strength: 5
Dexterity: 5
Constitution:5
Intelligence: 20
Wisdom: 5
Charisma: 4
Piloting: 17
Loyalty: 7

Race: Sluissi
Class: Trader
Background: While Salsale does own crappy star-interceptor, the actual pilot is Fias, who does regular flights with it and keeps it in maintenance.
 
"What do you mean you lost the ship?" Bork slammed his fist onto the counter.

"I didn't lose it," Sotha Ung replied, coolly. "I know exactly where it is."

"It's not here, which is the operative issue," the Bothan said, gritting his teeth. "Look, I pay you to hold onto the ship. This is how harbour fees work. In return, you ensure that the ship is sitting here, ready for use, on my return. This is, in fact, your sole responsibility. Which part of this exchange eludes you?"

Sotha stared back into the diminutive Bothan's eyes. "The part where you expect me to put my neck on the line standing up to the Hutts for your pile of junk. Maybe you shouldn't have been up to your ears in debt with P'za if you wanted to keep your ship. He says your debt is squared, by the way. Fair man, P'za."

"Fair Hutt," Llr said, picking at his nails. Bork turned to look at him. "He's not a man, he's a hutt. Ergo, he is a fair Hutt."

Bork grimaced. "Thankyou for ensuring that the much maligned race of the Hutts is represented in our dialogue. That being said," he hissed. "Perhaps you could focus on the issue at hand, that being, that your ship has been reposessed and we do not have it."

"Your ship. You're the boss here. I just fly the damn thing." Llr shrugged.

"Your investment in team morale," Bork hissed through his teeth, "has been noted." He turned to Sotha. "I have half a mind to send the Wookie and the droid in here, beat 30 flavours of hell out of you, and then burn the place down just to show you what happens when you lose my ship."

"Do it," Sotha spat, "and you'll regret it. I have Hutt ships in here. You want to explain to them why their ships have been burned?"

Bork gritted his teeth again. "You win this time. Don't count on it." He spun around, and left, beckoning to Llr as he went.

Urgrgrgrgh joined them outside the harbour office, the bulking wookie guarding the droideka and the astromech. He dutifully filed behind Bork as he stepped behind them, F2 whistling as it rushed to keep up to with them. Click-Click wheeled beside them at a walking pace. Bork shoved his hands into his pockets, and sulked.

"Well, now what are we going to do?"

"Urgrgrgrgh," roared the Wookie.

"That's great, Urgrgrgrgh," Bork grunted. "But at this present time, not helpful."

"We could stay here until we make enough money to buy another one," Llr said, shrugging. "Its not so bad here."

"Easy for you to say, you don't have fur. Me and Urgrgrgrgh over there are dying here. Besides, how long would that be? Do you know how much the Incontinent Gungan cost?"

"It cost nothing. You stole it."

"Okay, look, not the point. The point is, we'll be stuck here for god knows how many missions. And I bet you Hutts pay wompa-nuts." Bork stopped them at the door of a cantina. "C'mon, I need a drink. Or eight."

A surly looking Xaxto stopped them at the bar. "We don't serve droids here," he hissed.

"Well, obviously," said Llr, looking at Bork.

"I mean, what would they drink?"

"That's not what I mea..." the bartender began, but Bork gripped his head and shoved him face first into the Wookie's chest.

"I am not in the mood to argue semantics with you and that is exactly what you meant, are we understood? Now pour me a drink and shut up," he hissed, releasing the Xaxto. The bartender nodded, and turned to another part of the bar.

"By the looks of it, the only way is to scrape up enough money for a flight out of this sandbowl back to Coruscant or somewhere, and pick up a cheap ship second hand. Some kind of rust bucket, but at least it'll get you somewhere. Maybe buy an atomspheric fighter or something to guard it."

"If you're looking for an atmospheric fighter," said a voice, behind them. "I can get you one."

Bork turned, to be met with the puckered face of a Rodian. "I'll take it. What are you selling for?"

"I'm not selling. I'll do a trade. Your droideka for the ship."

"Thats ridiculous. That droid is worth five interceptors."

"Yeah, but where are you going to find them. Me, I need a droid. And you need a ship. See what I'm getting at here?"

"Tell you what," Bork said, looking at Urgrgrgrgh with a grin on his face. "I'll play you for it. Sabacc."

The Rodian paused. "Fine. I win, I take the droid. You win, you take the ship. Sit down." He drew a deck of cards from a pocket.

"Oh, I won't be playing. Never any good at it. The wookie will."

"When have you ever seen a Wookie play sabacc?" the Rodian said, fixing Urgrgrgrgh with a glare.

"Well, you know, you play with good players, you get good." Bork shrugged. "C'mon. If you're so confident, shouldn't be any trouble beating him and taking my droid, right?"

The Rodian shrugged, and pulled himself into a booth. Bork nodded at the Wookie. "Show him how you play Sabacc, Urgrgrgrgh."

The wookie grabbed the rodian's head and slammed it into teh booth table. "Admit we win!" yelled Bork.

"What are you -" the Rodian began.

Slam. The Wookie roared. The cantina patrons turned, but seeing business as usual, turned away.

"Admit we win!"

"I won't -"

Slam.

10 minutes later, Bork and his crew left the cantina, Bork fiddling with a set of codes to a new atmospheric fighter in his pocket. The droideka wheeled alongside him - the Bothan gave it a pat, almost for good luck.

"What are you going to do with a fighter though?" Llr said, shrugging.

"It's a start, Llr. Its a start and things might possibly look up for us now," Bork said, with a grin.
 
A year ago...

The Naboo town of Meärfo lay from an offshoot of the land route between Keren and Kadaara. It was a small settlement which had those journeying by land using as a rest station and for holiday goers using the hostels in the settlement before going on a walk through the countryside. The town had managed to avoid much of the fighting between the Republican and Confederate forces but it did end up with a refugee camp outside its boundaries and fear that the contests for both Keren and Kadaara would doom Meärfo. The agricultural market settlement of Meärfo was buzzing with caution.

Among the stores of Meärfo stood Café Desta, governed by the humble namesake catering dynasty. In the yellow marble structure were the rooms of blue tiles, paintings of Naboo royalty and Gungan crafted wooden tables with chairs united with cushions of many colours. Among those who drank, eat and talk in the café sat a man at a table for two, waiting for his old friend to show up. This Naboo citizen was a light brown thin man who owned upon his person snort black hair complete matched with a moustache and dark amber eyes, while his black jacket and black izaar matched a simple white shirt and sandals. His greyish conical hat was placed aside his seat. He was worried about the conflicts, worried about whether his simple clothing production venture would come to naught via a warring assault and he worried about what was happening on Rodia, for that most latter concerned the safety of his fellow business graduate from Mudrost' University in Corcusant.

The man continued to think till he saw enter the café and approach a waiter for inquiries a rodian in a dark blue jacket, dark blue trousers, cyan shirt, black boots and black gloves. The rodian carried a dark blue caubeen in his right hand. The rodian was dark green in skin tone with light bluish eyes. The waiter the rodian was speaking to pointed at the human at the table for two, which resulted in both traders waving at each other as the rodian approached the table.

“Hugo!” went the rodian to the human.

“Drogos!” went the human to the rodian.

Drogos Adek gave a small smile to Hugo Eren as he sat down, placing his caubeen next to Hugu’s own hat.

“Some time since we last me” spoke a joyful Hugo.

“Yes” spoke Drogos with a smile that hid an inner worry “it has.”

“Well… whatever we are to have is on my pay” say Hugo, as a waiter approach “I fancy some tea. Kosh please!”

“And you sir?” spoke the waiter to Drogos.

“Pepper tea please” spoke Drogos.

“Right. Thank you for your order gentlemen” spoke the waiter, heading away.
“It goods to see you again” spoke Hugo. “How are you?”

“A bit exhorted” spoke Drogos. “It was a long journey from Rodia.”

“And I can guess why you left Rodia” spoke Drogos. “Those crime wars set by the Hutts are quite out of hand.”

“Yes they are” spoke Drogos, tiredness finally infiltrating his voice.

“It must have been a shame for your house insurance career” spoke Hugo.

“I; insurances have skyrocketed into fragile territory in Lukzah” spoke Drogos “and I needed the safety of Naboo.”

“Safety in a planet contested by the Republicans and Confederates?” spoke Hugo, laughing.

“Compared to what the Hutts offer” spoke Drogos “Naboo’s battlefields in comparison area as peaceful as Alderaan.”

“But Naboo isn’t safe like Alderaan once again” spoke Hugo. “I still remember my uncle’s tales of his days as a fighter pilot for our royal star force; the Trade Federation invasion still haunts us and now they haunt us again. Complete with how the Republic has been going and at this rate we are going to be seeing Imperials and Rebels joining the fun in this world while the Hutt Cartels profit.”

“The Galaxy is in deep doo doo at the moment” spoke Drogos “and I can only do my best to avoid such nastiness.”

“Well” Hugo began as the waiter bought the teas for the two colleges “I guess you have business plans here?”

“I always fancied visiting Naboo” spoke Drogos “and finding a position to be a trader here would be an awesome way to spend the time.”

“Even with war?” spoke Hugo

“Well it’s not like the Galaxy is on fire” replied Drogos.

“Say reminds me to ask: did you come alone?” spoke Hugo. “I would hardly imagine you’re the only Rodian from Lukzah to have adopted the sense to emigrate from the troubles there.”

Indeed I am not alone” spoke Drogos. “I met some childhood friends; you probably remember me telling you about Onas Neetu; she was forced out of her job and decided to get work here in safety.”

“O dear” spoke Hugo, unaware of the true reasoning for why Onas was fired “I suppose she was the only one that came with you?”

“True but that is that” spoke Drogos.

“Just I remember you speaking of that street criminal you once befriended” spoke Hugo quietly.

“You mean Vami Tetsu?” whispered Drogos.

“Yes; her” whispered Hugo. “She came?”

“I must make a confession… she has had trouble with the Hutts and came with me on the shuttle.”

“You do know that this could cause trouble; she still is in crime, no?”

“She says she is trying to turn round; no harm in that.”

“Just be careful Drogy in case she is lying to you.”

“She is a friend a am willing to give a chance to.”

“A friend who got you to leave Rodia?"

“Why… what?”

“Listen mate; I can understand the hardships you felt in Lukzah but I smell trouble from this Vami and if she is that trouble you might be played along for a rough ride that could end you up served to a Hutt’s rancor or sent to Kessel.”

“Don’t worry Hugo; she is… may we focus on the tea?” went Drogos from whisper to loud. “I need to rest my mind.”

“Sure mate” spoke Hugo.

Both traders began to drink their tea.


Meanwhile across the streets in a alley…


“You sure you got him on a lease still, boss?” spoke in Rodian a dark blue skinned male rodian with a purple unzipped jacket over a shirtless chest, matched with black trousers and boots. “We do not know whether he…”

“Fear not Rogos” spoke a female rodian with dark cyan skin, short reddish hair, red zipped up jacket, red trousers, black boots and dark grey eyes “I know Drogos well; he is quite loyal.”

“Ya better be right Vami” spoke Rogos.

“O do not worry about that” spoke Vami “we got other things to worry about.”
 
"Damn!", James Fox shouted. "Are you kidding me?"

"No...", Alexander Mac Arthur said and sighed. "Unfortunately, it is true. We will have to make an emergency landing on Tatooine.

"What happened?", Huang Rong inquired as soon as she entered the cockpit of the "Dark Hawk" and saw James and Alexander distressed.

"Haaaaa"!, Shaar Thunder, the Wookie, shouted.

"The engine is damaged", James explained. "It seems that this bastard Twi’lek lied to us when he told us that he had fixed our engine."

"And we paid him 2,000 credits!", Huang Rong replied. "I told you not to trust him, but you did not listen to me!".

She sighed, "You are always too trusting. You fool, if you trust anyone you meet you will soon be dead, even if you are a Jedi."

James blushed. "Well... I cannot help but trust others. Anyway, this guy seemed good to me and he was overly polite-"

Before he could continue, Alexander interrupted him. "Enough with this squabble. Now we have to make a plan on how to leave Tatooine. Our credits many not be enough to fix the engine and many bounty hunters, hired both by the Hutt and the Empire, are after us. Before we land to Tatooine, we should have at least thought of a general plan."

"Let me think...", James said. A minute passed and yet he had thought of nothing yet.

"We could gain money through gambling!", Huang Rong intervened. "Before I joined you, I liked a lot to gamble."

"Well, this...." James was not much excited with gambling.

"Do you have any other ideas?"

"Well...."

"Then don't speak."

"Alright."

"This may be a good chance to also establish a Rebel presence in the area.", Alexander commented.

"Haaaaaa!!", Shaar said, approving Alexander's idea.

"We could recruit people who want to fight the Empire and make Tatooine a rebel stronghold."

"This is a good idea", James replied. "Let us land to Tatooine!"
 
2 years ago

Jimbo stared down at the cup. It was empty. Again. He growled and reached for the bottle. It was contraband, but nobody cared. The commander shared it once in awhile, and so long as it was hidden when an inspection came by, nobody would say anything. All the old clones did it, all who remembered the old days and had... fought... in Knightfall.

A good soldier follows orders.

He drank for the nightmares, and he knew that a lot of his brothers did the same.

“Deficient,” he’d once have thought if he heard of clones having nightmares. “Defective.”

But he remembered the creche. The bodies. And now he knew. Nothing that the Clankers had ever done could match up to what he and his brothers did. And since the end of the war, the nightmares had kept coming, newer, brighter. Kashyyyk, Bothawui, Murkhana, the oceans of blood only grew.

The 501st had once been the finest in the Galaxy, and torrent company the best of the best. Now nobody called it that. It was Vader’s fist, and nothing more.

A good soldier follows orders.

Knightfall had been chaos, hell, in more ways than one. The Jedi fought bitterly, confused, but vicious in their defence against the clones.

Jimbo remembered Crisco’s voice over his face’s Comms “There are civvies here, evac orders?”

And Appo’s answer “Civvies?” His voice hollow, as if he knew what was coming.

“Younglings. Babies. Innocent”

And Skywalkers, Vader’s voice, had cut in. “There are no civilians in this temple.” Jimbo remembered Crisco’s protests, and how they had cut off in a soft gurgling, choking sound. He remembered the click in his helmet as it counted off Crisco’s death.

A good soldier follows orders.

Master Sinube had always been kind. Kookie, strange, and at times annoying, never a traitor. Jimbo remembered the sad smile, the slight shift of the cane. He knew that the Jedi’s saber was in the handle, but the old man never reached for it.

“I’m sorry I wasn’t able to save you and your brothers.” he had said “Patience has won, yes, but the patience of the enemy. But, neverfear, Jimbo, one day you will be free. Yes?”

And he had fired, killing the old man.

A good soldier follows orders.

There were lots of new clones, but they were not his brothers, not really. While most didn’t even bear the same face as he and the commander and Hands and Sand and Tupper and Chopper and Jester and Kev and Appo and Gregor and Sindar and Jedi and Sketch and Punch and, no Punch and Sketch were dead, and Dogger and Booth and Hugs, even new cadets with the Fett face were different. Most didn’t even want names, preferring their numerical designation. Spaarti clones, the majority of them, since the Kamino vats remained in the hands of the republic.

And, that in and of itself was the joke. The Emperor who had been elected to lead the republic now led an army against it, and Jimbo, who had been raised to defend the ideals of the republic, fought those ideals. And brother slaughtered brother in an eternal meat grinder.

“What’s the point?” mumbled Jimbo into his cup.

A Good Soldier Follows Orders.

Someone sat down next to him in the Mess, and through bleary, gummy eyes, he saw it was Tupper. Wordlessly, he pushed the empty bottle towards his brother. Shaking his head, Tupper put his Face, white and unrecognizable, down on the table and pulled out his own flask, filling Jimbo’s glass.

“What are we doing, brother?” Tupper mumbled.

“Drinking. Forgetting.”

“I... just came back from my tour of the prisons. My turn at “order 4256.”” The disgust was clear in the other clones face. “I need this.” He took a deep swig of the liquor. “She was a spy, they said. Togruta... like the commander... A rebel, or a republican, or a tinnie.” He scowled. “She was just scared, and I had to...” He trailed off.

“The Generals would never have made us do that.” Jimbo whispered. “Never. They cared.”

Tupper froze. “Careful, that’s treasonous talk.” He scanned the mess, but nobody was near. The Commander, Rex, as he was once known, sat slumped and motionless, mechanically eating, and taking nothing in. He hadn’t sat and joked with the men since... before.

“It’s true, though. You know that.”

Tupper nodded. “But orders are orders.” He frowned. “And a good soldier follows orders.”

“I’m so tired.”

“We’re clones. The best of the best.” Tupper sounded as tired as Jimbo felt.

Jimbo shrugged, and raised a glass “To the Generals. To Sinube. To Tano. To Kenobi. To Windu. To... Skywalker...”

Tupper raised his bottle and lightly tapped Jimbo’s glass. “I heard some survived the purge.” He whispered. “Survived Vader. In the outer rim.” There was something in Tupper’s voice, something that only a brother could have picked up. Jimbo looked into the other clone’s eyes and gave a slight nod.

A good soldier follows orders

Silently, they both got up and put on their Faces... Helmets, couldn’t call them faces, anymore, since they were all the same. Side by side, they walked to the requisition office, where Tupper requisitioned a can of blue paint.

In the shadows of the unlit barracks, they wordlessly applied the paint to their armor. It had been years since they’d done this, but the motions still felt as natural as breathing. Delicately, Tupper and Jimbo trimmed their armor with Blue, lining the edges. Tupper added the handprints, one for each of his Batch brothers, killed defending Kamino years back. For Jimbo, it was blue bolts of lightning down the front and back of his face and shell.

As they silently worked, they were disturbed only once, when the door to the barracks slid open and Booth and Hugs and a spaarti clone, not a brother, walked in. They saw what was happening, and as the spaarti turned to raise the alarm, Hugs silently killed him. Wordlessly, Booth and Hugs sat with Tupper and Jimbo, and painted.

A good soldier follows orders.

Their work done, their shells looking as they were meant, the clones stole from shadow to shadow, slipping past patrols, racing towards the hanger, daring to hope that they could reach it before they were found.
 
Alright, sounds good Everblack.

Nice job on the stories guys. It really helps things along when the characters I'm messing with on the back end seem more real with these, I'll always encourage more.

As an update on progress, I'm about 75% done working on the stats and such. Once I've ironed everything out in that respect, I will be creating the first update proper. I hope to kick it off with "Galactic current events," a number of Cantina missions, and specific missions for all those I am sure are starting already officially signed up for a faction.

As an aside, you'll probably notice that some of your stats and/or equipment have changed from your signup post. Those are simply changes I felt were necessary based on your backgrounds and stories and such. Almost none of these will ever be a net negative, it simply keeps things consistent. For example, perhaps a character displayed some deceit but spoke in a way that makes them seem legitimate. I may peg down the loyalty stat a bit, and to compensate increase the charisma stat to reflect the silver tongue they displayed. Other changes may include equipment that makes more sense for the race/character in question, like a clone having phase II armor or a Wookie having a bowcaster.

Anyways, I don't have an official ETA on the update. I'll say that it may come Tuesday for now, but there's no telling how long it'll take me to work on the actual update until I get the rhythm going.
 
5 months ago

In a dark room lit only by a chained glass window at the top sat two tables with chairs, a sofa and a broken remains of a battle droid beyond even scrapping, dating from the Trade Federation invasion as a token by the previous owners of the room. The new owners were absent, renting it to both a dark blue skinned male rodian with a purple unzipped jacket over a shirtless chest, matched with black trousers and boots, along with a female rodian with dark cyan skin, short reddish hair, and red zipped up jacket, red trousers, black boots and dark grey eyes. Both Rogos Bomu and his boss plus lover Vami Tetsu were in a tense mood; the Lukzah Syndicate was forced into hiding after some of their shipping were caught by both Confederate and Republican forces on route to Meärfo; since the black markets were used by those not in line with either the CIS and the Galatic Republic they suspected the drugs and contraband were meant for funding either the Hutts, the Rebels or the Imperials; the result has leaded Vami Tetsu to take the hard decision to lay low all her operations and attempt concealment till the potential eyes of Naboo’s would be rulers had turned more to fighting each other once more. Legitimate trade hence the only venue for revenue but that too was being hit hard as the Black Market and the war had placed prices in chaos, which affected Drogos Adek badly in his new found career as a forum merchant.
The laying low strategy was taking its toll on Rogos Bomu.

“This be maddening!” shouted he. “We are doing ain’t all! We gotta do some business, some looting and some smuggling but no; you told us to wait here instead of getting things done! The only thing we are doing is ain’t all!”

“We are doing ‘ain’t all’ because we got too much attention from the Republic’s forces and the goons of the Confederacy” spoke Vami. “Meärfo was not as safe as we would hope it would be but that is that; we can make do.”

“I know that my love” spoke Rogos “but we isn’t going to make a big time if we gotta keep low.”

“Patience” spoke Vami. “We have had time to think about the future and what we are going to do.”

“Keeping low ain’t going to do all if we just keep not doing anything” spoke Rogos. “We need to do something! Something is better than nothing!”

“Patience” repeated Vami. “What we lose heat we can do what gotta be done.”

“I… can’t I at least traffic some spice?” spoke Rogos. “I would be less bored if you gave me a boss job but you allow that softy to handle the trade business and that human goon of yours to be your fists. I thought we were partners all these years?”

“We are still partners” spoke Vami. “It is just that Drogos is an old friend who is quite experience in legimate business and hence why I trust him with the accounts and such. As for Naj… I could not resist giving a Clone War vet and a former bounty hunter the chief job of protector and beater. Anyway once we grow I will find a good job for you my dear.”

“Ya… I guess I gotta trust thee for now” spoke Rogos. “Just know that I will take anything as soon as possible; anything is better than nothing.”

“Concern accounted” spoke Vami, who turned to notice the door open and two other figures emerge; one was a tall female rodian in the white dress of a medic, dressed head to toe in black and white. Her light purple skin that emerged from her hands and head were smooth; her face was gentle with a white hat on top, while her eyes were dark blue. Next to this medic was a tall human though slightly shorter than the medic; he wore reddish Mabari Armor, with the metallic darker shade to the rest. He had his helmet off revealing a bold, light brown head with a middle sized crooked nose, short ears, short amber eyes and a sharp chin; it was haired only by a small blueish black goatee. “Good afternoon” spoke Vami to both Onas Neetu and Naj Killian.

“Good afternoon” spoke the two newcomers.

“Were be Drogos?” spoke Rogos.

“I saw him still at the merchant forums” spoke Onas. “I think he still a bit unset with the interruptions of his trade. The war between the CIS and the Galactic Republic are surely getting stronger again; it is hitting Drogos hard.”

“And with Drogos our legitimate front” spoke Naj. “We are doing well in the heat loss strategy but we got to admit that our savings are not going to be protected; things are hitting us hard and as long as the war maintains its current rate we are going to be outcompeted by Hutt backed criminal gangs, as well as smuggler groups approved by the Rebel Alliance and the Galactic Imperium. Who would knew a war time black market would become harder place to do business?”

“Gut mouthed Hutt Cartels!” swore Rogos.

“I guess we are hit hard, yes, but we gotta think carefully” spoke Vami. “If we make our move too hastily and too hot we are going to be doing our business in Kessel.”

“If we don’t get gutted by the Hutt goons first” cried Rogos.

“Still we might soon be able to get things back under control” spoke Naj. “Sure Drogos may be having a hard time but new avenues may come to us as the war drags on and we still got Onas’s drug making capabilities.”

“My services are still able but resources will be tighter now” spoke Onas. “I especially think we need to find more stable means to distribute. The main markets are watched by the Republicans and the Confederates; our problem is that the Black Markets have come to be the grounds for the other factions.”

“Yeh; the tyrannical Imperials and the bastard Hutts” spoke Vami. “Still… there is…”

“You do know that getting into the whole mess be more trouble than it is worth” spoke Rogos. “We ain’t going to be heroes, ya know? Getting in bed with either the Republicans or the Confederates is going to get us done in by da other and I doubt the Imperials would…”

Suddenly a knocking came through; the door opened as a panic looking Drogos Adek, in bright green shirt and black trousers with brown shoes, stormed into the room. He went "Sorry but I got something!"

“What is this?” spoke Onas. “You come in a pickle.”

“Sorry” spoke Drogos “but I come to bring bad news to the boss.”

“What is it Drogos?” spoke Vami.

“Yeh; what with the hurry?” spoke Naj.

“Its Arog, Doomi, Hulu and co” spoke Drogos. “Vami, Onas: the Imperials… they have arrested them.”

“What?!” spoke Drogos.

“The Imps want?!” went Onas.

“What the Imps got them for?” asked Rogos.

“I am sad to say they are doomed” spoke Drogos. “Doomi… he was apparently leading a march in memory of the Jedi massacre; many chants denouncing the Emperor were heard; some rodian clan leaders tipped off an imperial patrol and… well Doomi and those lot were locked up. If they are lucky they will be executed; the Imperials are currently looking for slave labour and they got plenty of harsh projects.”

“Bastards” spoke Naj. “I swear to you Vami that if they came for you I will do my bit… to think I fought a war in defence of the Republic, only for that… how could our Chancellor turn…”

“I cannot believe it” spoke Onas. “To think the Hutts were the hunters… the Imps are truly being a nasty…”

“The black market” went Vami. “You said the Rebel Allaince were among the black marketers, yes?”

“Yes” spoke Onas “but why…”

“I need to ask you a favour Drogos” spoke Vami.

“What kind of favour?” spoke Drogos.

“I am going to do some research” spoke Vami “but know that I am thinking of a solution to our problems; once enough heats gone down there is a big market we can take part in; the Rebel market. Will you be ready to do some messaging for me?”

“...well I could… you want me to speak to the Rebels?!” spoke Drogos.

“You want us to get in?!” spoke Rogos.

“And to think I was leaving war behind” spoke Naj.

“It is a good venue to take part and would allow us pay back against the Imps” spoke Vami. “We need to…”

“Hang on! Hang on!” spoke Rogos. “You really want to do that boss?”
“To be fair we should think this through” spoke Drogos. “You do realise that the Republicans and the Confederates are going to be more heated if are found to be a Rebel smuggler unit of some kind. In addition the Hutts would go mental and I am sure the Imperials little love for smugglers, never mind dissident smugglers.”

“If I may I would support the matter but issue caution” spoke Naj. “If we align with the Rebellion we need to be ready for it; they will likely open their hands to any help they can get but once we cross the line into dissident we are going to be able to function as a criminal enterprise; our business will become theirs and I ensue you that drugs and contraband are not going to be the solo path to fund and aid the Rebellion.”

“I just… feel it is the right thing to do” spoke Vami. “It will hit the Imps and upset the Hutts; two beautiful things if you ask my personal view on the matter.”

“And the Cons and Reps?” spoke Rogos.

“We can approach them at pace” spoke Onas. “The main thing is if we take this path… we are going to rethink our careers.”

“Then I guess I will think but I fear I will not change my mind” spoke Vami. “I had for some time had a great distain for the Imperium; they grew into a nasty work as scummy as the Hutts Cartels, if not worse; whatever the case I am going to make a stand and I will do it mind way!”

“For that I will be with you” spoke Naj. “I gave my service to maintain the liberties of the Republic; I became a bounty hunter when that went apart, to find justice in the darkness of the alley; now I have a new purpose and will help you in your virtues.”

“Please! Went Rogos. “We gotta think through! You know they turn us away once they made us of us! No one care for us underclass folk, especially a criminal underlings!”

“And this is going to make my own forum career a difficult trade” spoke Drogos. “Yes is this general spaces to do my lawful business but if they find out I am part of a Rebel gang, well… you know the Imperials are not the only ones that may turn my vendor stands into a pyre?”

“If it is right we better do it but we gotta be careful” spoke Onas. “We gotta do it for Doomi and co but we gotta be smart.”

“And I will be” went Vami. “The Rebels need their underfolk, their shadow; when things calmed down a bit I will sent Drogos to make an offer to Rebel smuggler channels.

“O no!” went Drogos. “I am going to lose my career through this but I am not to burn it by being seen in a smuggler den! I can handle the financing of your drugs and doing a back alley deal but if one eye takes account of my presence then I am going to end up like that battle drone in the corner; beyond scrap.”

“I must admit it might be a bit haste” spoke Vami. “Ok I will play it smart and calm; I will speak to the Rebels myself.”

“Boss if the law catches you…” began Rogos.

“Don’t worry” spoke Vami. “You know too well how smooth I can play; tis just going to be a careful act.”

“May I then come with you when your ready” spoek Naj. “In addition to my experience for the Rebellion you may need some hard hands to case…”

“Actually I might you and Drogos, Naj” spoke Vami. “If we wear the right stuff we can enter unseen and greet our would be employers.”

“I still think this is not going to be a good idea” spoke Drogos. “For Doomi yes I would do it but I do not think joining them is what they would desire.”

“They desire someone to fight for them” spoke Onas. “We got a cause.”

“Onas is right” spoke Naj. “I have always had a sense of honour; it would be good to have a cause to fight for again.”

“Then once we think things through us can make our move” spoke Vami. “For now; Drogos how is the forums?”

“Buisness is still hard” spoke Drogos.

“Then try something before we do make our move” went Vami. “We are going to need all we can have.”
 
Thanks for the list Thomas. I'll be sure to include a section on the front page that will serve as an index.
 
So I caught up on all the stories, and dammit Thomas, you're gonna make me cry.

also need to finish the Clone Wars series
 
[For greater clarity of dialogue reading, I give thee this guide:
Dialogue like this will be Salsale's.
This is Moradin.
And this is Fias.
The Gree will probably not speak a lot, as he refuses to speak in Basic. Still, when he does, it'll be obvious. Whatever he says will be "translated" by Fias.
Anyone else speaking with no formatting is an episodic character.]

It was yet another day in Coruscant, with it's busy streets and even more busy citizens. People of all kinds could be seen here, as they were going on with their lives; whether the normal one of a loyal citizen of the Imperium or planning a brutal crime, well, that's up to them. There was place for the former, and a lot of places for the latter. One such refugee for evil, evil people would be the cantina "Trasola". Why it was named like that, it is rather unclear, but it's implied that a bet was lost.

Coincidentally, it was also where the Blood Ravens were at. As per usual, being evil people with no jobs, they did what evil people with no jobs did while not running from the good guys chasing them. They drank.

The bartender and owner of Trasola was, as it's customary to do in these places, was cleaning the glasses. Probably due to a lack of nothing to do. He took a deep breath and said

"Hey, have you ever wondered how you got to all of this? You know, together and all?"

"Yes, when I'm not imagining how I gun rows of Jawas down."

"What's with you and Jawas?"

"I think Jawas are great traders with acumen for good de-..oh, here we go again. He's at it. Describing Jawas reproduction cycles."

"I don't care how the little furry bastards mate! Or how they're born! I just want them dead! All dead!"

"Oh well, perhaps there needs to be some sort of an explanation. Our dear Salsale here had an unfortunate deal with 'em. It's also how we two met."

"And people say there's a bright side to everything. Bah! Imagine this! You're on Tatooine, after flying through space for 22 bloody cursed days, and then, you get scammed by those furry bastards. And it was such a nice pistol!"

"But then you got rescued by a brave Rodian who galloped to your rescue, no?"

"Yes, by rescued, you mean, tried to kill me! I just got away from 'em when you started firing and yelling something about not hurting Twi'lek ladies. And they were giving up the chase, too!"

"Well, but all ends well when it ends well, no?"

"If you call being stuck in a Jawa prison cell "well". Good thing they didn't put the locks on the doors."

"Talk about coincidence, eh? Maybe the Jawas were impressed by your dashing good looks?"

"I'm quite sure that the Imperial squadron that was sent to fight smuggling probably had to do something with it."

"Yes, the glorious Imperium rose once again to kill those bloody Jawas and smugglers. Glory, glory!"

"Looks like she's at it again. How did you meet her, Erran? Um...start from the relevant parts? alien noises OK, skip the blood. And the organs. How do you attach an arm to an ear, anyway? That's not science, that's butchery! alien noises Yeah, and now you wonder why you got fired from Coruscant General. Those aren't nice words. alien noises Really. I don't think the director of the hospital would appreciate them. If you cared. Which you probably don't. Oh...illegal practising in a meathouse? I guess we all do have our lows. alien noises. OK, operating on a Wookie without an anaesthesiac does put some of other people's lows in perspective. It can always get wor- alien noises. Hmm, okay, I'd really want to avoid knowing how you can attach an arm to an ear... alien noises So you met Salsale after the Jawa incident? Healing laser burns with transplanted Wookie hair? I wonder how did that one end. alien noises. Well, save from the reaction from 'er, I guess it's all right in the end. alien noises. From healing people in a meathouse to working for a crazed Twi'lek Imperial symphatisant? Is this what life is all about? alien noises. Okay, "your flesh slowly turning into ash once you die as the winds sweep over your few remaining bones" is creepy, but poetic. And, oh, duly noted, I'll leave you to your own."

"So that leaves you, uh, what was your name? Flaz? Blaz?"

"Fias. It's Fias. Well, who would possibly ignore such a colourful party? An ins-"

"Hmph!"

"Okay, a devoted symphatisant of the Imperium, a Rodian with some sort of a thing of mis-"

A gun was cocked.

"Really? Ah, well. A Rodian with a curious sense of gallantry and the ability to kill a Wookie with a relatively well-aimed shot, and then there's the medic, who doesn't talk Basic, beca-

Angry alien noises filled the cantina.

"You'll talk Basic when the sun explodes and the slow expansion of the Universe kills us all? Sometimes I wonder why do I even bother."

"Um, so...you seem normal. Why are you with them? You seem like a trader of sorts."

"Well, how should I put it. I got too rich, too fast, and probably, via way too illegal ways. All that's behind me. Now I'm an honest trader. Who's coincidentally working for very unh- oh come on!"

"Hey, we gotta go. My ship got some sort of a notice. Probably unpaid parking. Again."

As they left, the barman murmured to himself "That was one band of crazy bastards. Hope they never enter again here. Goddamnit.".
 
Bold, Italic and Underline? Careful, you might summon the NinjaCow... :mischief:
 
Party Name: Marshall's Fox Hounds
Party's Coat of Arms:

Party's Theme:
Starting Planet: Tatooine
Party Size: 4
Party Alignment:
Imperium: 0
Republic: 15
Hutt: 5
CIS: 0
Rebel: 25

Party Leader: Connie Marshall
Party Controller: Connie Marshall
Party Manager: Hanna Antilles

Spoiler Open For Picture :


Connie Marshall
STATS (Racial Bonuses/Penalties in Parenthesizes):

Strength: 11 (+2)
Dexterity: 4 (+2)
Constitution: 8 (+2)
Intelligence: 6 (+2)
Wisdom: 4 (+2)
Charisma: 8 (+2)
Piloting: 1 (+2)
Loyalty: 8 (+2)

Race: Human Female
Class: Commando
Background: Connie Marshall, was once a junior officer in the Republic Army's special forces division, achiving the rank of Major. However, she was assigned by the Republic brass on the frigid planet of Ando Prime. However things went from alright to down right crappy after Palpatine took power and Ando Prime remained with the Republic remnant which result in crappy communications between herself and the Republic brass and with only the Republic propaganda to inform herself and the populace. The ennui of Republic propaganda and misinformation has caused her to quit the Republic army due to the post clone war confusion, exacerbated by Republic-imposed ignorance and no longer holds any trust with the Republican Government. Connie struck out on her own as a mercenary, and starting her own private military company...or as what the rest of the galaxy calls "mercs". Before eventually stopping at one certain cantina in Tattoine.

Spoiler Open For Picture :

Hanna Antilles
STATS (Racial Bonuses/Penalties in Parenthesizes):

Strength: 7 (+2)
Dexterity: 4 (+2)
Constitution: 5 (+2)
Intelligence: 6 (+2)
Wisdom: 5 (+2)
Charisma: 9 (+2)
Piloting: 8 (+2)
Loyalty: 6 (+2)

Race: Human Female
Class: Smuggler
Background: During the dusk of the Galactic Republic, Hanna was a senator within the Galactic Republic representing Corellia (Her home planet). The ennui from Palpatine's administration has caused her to become dissatisfied with the direction that the Republic was heading to. The breaking for Hanna was Palpatine's consolidation of power and the declaration of the new order and proclaiming himself Emperor. She witnessed the arrest of the Delegation of 2000 and decided that enough was enough and walked out of office in protest of Palpatine's. Initially, Hanna had sympathies for the Galatic Republic. However saw the Republic no different than the Empire with corruption running rampid. This left Hanna with the Rebel Alliance, but given the Empire's crackdown on Rebels, left Hanna with only one choice for the time; striking out on her own on her own settlement on Nova Terra and helping in her own way as a smuggler; shipping supplies between black markets and the Rebel Alliance.

Spoiler Open For Picture :

Marsha Conrad
STATS (Racial Bonuses/Penalties in Parenthesizes):

Strength: 8 (+2)
Dexterity: 5 (+2)
Constitution: 6 (+2)
Intelligence: 9 (+2)
Wisdom: 4 (+2)
Charisma: 8 (+2)
Piloting: 2 (+2)
Loyalty: 8 (+2)

Race: Human Female
Class: Trader (Engineer)
Background: Marsha Conrad was a senator's daughter of the Galactic Republic. Unfortunately, her father was killed off during the arrests of the Delegation of 2000. Which left a burning hatred of the Empire into her psyche. Academically, Marsha went to the Coruscanti Academy of Technology where she excelled in computer and droid technologies. Though by her own admition she's just "really good with computers". One of her pet projects was a construction of her own droid, ED-E. Prior to the schism of the Republic, Marsha had aspirations of being commissioned as an tech officer in the Republic Army after some encouragement by Connie. Though that dream has since been shattered once Palpatine came to power. For a long while, Marsha has been a drifter, along with ED-E, traveling from system to system offering her skills to other planetary settlements.

Spoiler Open For Picture :

ED-E
STATS (Racial Bonuses/Penalties in Parenthesizes):

Strength: 5
Dexterity: 9
Constitution: 8
Intelligence: 9
Wisdom: 5 (-5)
Charisma: 5
Piloting: 9
Loyalty: 5

Race: Customized Droid, Masculine Programing
Class: Droid (Scouting)
Background: Eyebot Duraframe Subject E, or just shortened to ED-E (Pronounced as "Eddie") is a droid built and maintained by Marsha Conrad using the spaceage material of durasteel. Marsha wasn't satisfied with the limitations of the standard astromech droids on the market. So she constructed ED-E as part of her project. Much of the hardware she used was from salvaged astromech hardware and lightweight repulsorlift engines to give him extra mobility. The addition of a laser pistol was Marsha's idea to allow the droid some self-defense, both for the droid and herself. ED-E has been a constant companion for Marsha.
 
I have a treat for you guys.

If you really need a key,
Spoiler :
Dark Blue=Empire
Light Blue=Republic
Red=Rebels
Brown=Hutt
Beige=CIS


disclaimer: I may have made thematic errors with some planets. Notify me in PM if you think a planet should be reassigned (and has enough of a reason to be reassigned)
 
"Let's meet at the Cantina"​

It was a dusty day in Mos Eisley, yet everyday seemed to be dusty in a desert spaceport. Connie, tightens up her bandanna and adjusts her Marauder Armor, exposing her buff arms head straight into the cantina. She notices ED-E flying around the enterance of the cantina. When she enters, she scans the bar, looking for a seat. She grips her flamethrower, ready to strike against any unscrupulous individual. Then she overhears Marsha in the distance and aproaches towards her. She her hips to the side and places her hand on her hip "We're really going to meet up in a tavern?" and shoots Marsha a rouse smile.

"Well, it's the only big name in town in this dust ball of a planet" Marsha said as she responds "So I heard you left the Republic".

"Yeah, I was stationed in some remote planet. Then Palpatine declared himself Emperor and poof, the Republic imploded into a corrupt government with propaganda the eye can see" Connie answers.

"I guess it was smart of me not to peruse the Republic Army" Marsha said while jokingly smiling.

"Well, odds are, they might have tossed you in Naboo, just to guard the place and leave you ignorant of the whole situation of the galaxy" Connie said as she catches up with an old friend.

"So what do we do now? I mean the poop has hit the galatic fan after Palpatine declared himself emperor" then Marsha pulls out her utility knife and jams it into the table "...and killed my father...".

Connie's mood switch from happy to sympathetic and gave Marsha condolances "I'm sorry, to learn about that".

Hanna, overhearing the duo approaches the gang "I don't suppose you two have already seen the true face of the Republic and Palpatine's rise to power"." Then she puts her hand on the table "I left the Republic the moment Palpatine made his declaration of the new order".

Marsha then leans back, staring at the knife she planted on the table "So what should we do? The Empire is ruthless, the Republic is corrupt"

"Well" Hanna said "We can affiliate ourselves with the Rebels. Though I had some dealings with the Hutts during my business venture. Mainly giving food and supplies to the Rebels".

Connie then takes a good hard look at Hanna "Wern't you a senator from Corellia?"

"Yes, I...well...was" Hanna responds as she takes a seat "I couln't stand seeing the Republic turning into the Empire, and the Republic Remnant, well.....all I can say that I did not leave the Republic, the Republic left me."

Connie then sits back "Well, I guess were all in the same boat now. Old Republic Citizens without a hime"

"Not quite" Hanna said "All is not lost. The spirit of the Republic is still within the Rebel Alliance."

Marsha, looking distraught, responds "If we put our chips in the Alliance, what help can we do? Were just three women and a droid."

Connie looks at Marsha confusingly "A droid?"

"Yes" Marsha responds "ED-E, you may have seen him floating about by the enterance of the cantina. Stupid bar tender wont even let him in. Even if I had to flex my muscles to intimidate him".

Hanna, in her own stroke of wisdom, makes a suggestion "Connie, you were a major in the Republic Army. Then left to become a mercenary. Perhaps we can pool our resources..."

"...and form our own mercenary group" Connie said as she finishes up her sentance "We can go as" she then takes off her banndana and looks at the front, bearing her patch "Marshall's Fox Hounds". She then puts back on her bandana "All we need is a ship to travel in".

"Well...." Hanna nerviously replies "...there is one problem. I just have a Scyk Interceptor, not a Corellian freighter".

Connie then leans back and crosses her muscular arms "Well, that's something were going to have to find on the market, a small starship. Like a YT-1300 or something".

"That is if it's even on the market" Marsha responds.

"I suppose we can do some odd-jobs to gather enough funds to buy it" Hanna said as she gets up.

"I suppose" Connie then gets up along with Marsha "C'mon, let's go see if we can manage to scrape some money to buy a YT-1300." Then the trio leaves the cantina.

Pete then notices the trio exiting the cantina and seeing Marsha flagging down ED-E "Wait. Did they really met up in a tavern?" then looking more confused and annoyed "Really?"

Then Ben responds "Easy with the forth wall, the Jawas just finished patching it up yesterday".

"Well, last I checked, this was Star Wars: Reclamation, not Darths & Droids" Pete responds. Before a frantic Jawa comes running up infront of him waving his arms then sprinting to exit stage left.
 
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