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Storyboards / Re: Internal Affairs
« Last post by Nicohlas on 08/18/17, 01:54:13 PM »
Shuttle en route to Dalo District, Capital city

The rotund Imperial general sat forward, fidgeting with his hands as his shuttle, one of three en route to the political offices of known Republic sympathizers, began its decent into the middle-upper class neighborhood of high-rise business buildings.

I’ll have this business with the Republic insurgents wrapped up in good order soon, and then I’ll press Logistics to confront Heermann publicly about where his great wealth came from.  That will ruin the insolent little brat for good.  Maybe it will get rid of his insufferable wife too and open up the governor’s chair for me, as reward for defeating the rebels.

General Veramin smirked sinisterly to himself as the formation of shuttles proceeded downward.

The death or capture of Damen Auturis will be welcomed as a bold measure.  High Command is sure to reward me for seizing the initiative and delivering a crippling blow to the remaining Republic holdouts on Belkadan.


“Sir,” the shuttle pilot came over the intercom.  “We’ve assumed our approach formation and will land outside the target structure in six minutes.”

Veramin stood and rallied his men up to prepare to disembark.  His opportunity had finally come.

Political office building in Dalo District, Capital City

Damen Auturis rubbed his eyes slowly as he sat in his cushioned red chair.  Despite his fatigue from the day’s events, the old man had cause to briefly adopt a small smile.

Forty-five years ago I was a simple clerk in the Maintenance and Sanitation Department of the planetary government with simple career aspirations.  And now …

The elderly man looked at a holo of his long dead wife and daughter.  Both had died long ago, crushed under an Imperial tank during what was ostensibly labelled a “training exercise” in the capital.  Their deaths were marked up as accidents, but it had left a scar on Damen, one that caused him to begin tacitly supporting the more militant side of the movement of which he was one of the principal leaders.

When the Sith Empire began making diplomatic overtures to the planetary government some fifty years ago, Damen was among the camp that staunchly opposed an Imperial alliance.  Certainly Belkadan had not garnered much attention in the Republic Senate, but Damen felt the values of his people were much more closely aligned with those of the Galactic Republic than the long-disappeared Sith Empire.

Damen and his colleagues lost the argument, and Belkadan turned on the Republic.  They were not alone in doing so, but Damen became disillusioned with Belkadan’s leaders for a long time after they aligned with the Empire.

After the abdication of Republic affiliation, Damen quit his job in public service and joined a new political movement that sought to preserve, as best it could, the ideals of the Republic on a planet occupied by Imperial forces.  Silently affiliated with the Republic, Damen’s party labored to curb Imperial control and maintain Belkadan’s sense of self-rule as much as possible, though usually their efforts were in vain.

Today, he was head of that party, the political element of a movement that also included armed insurgents hiding out in the swamps.  Insurgent strikes on Imperial holdings were infrequent.  Damen had always feared the Imperials would one day associate his party with the armed insurrection and move against him, but that day had never come.  He was, however, as resolved as ever to continue to mitigate Imperial control over his homeworld, a task made more burdensome by the arrival of the new Chiss governor.

“Going to be falling asleep in your office again, sir?”  Damen’s assistant, Sirat, asked as he entered the office.

Damen let out a long sigh, “No, I suppose I’d better get go-…”  Damen was interrupted by a loud bang outside his office.  He thought it sounded like it came from the front of the building.

“Sir!,” the party’s chief of security announced as he rushed into the office.  “The Imperials are seizing the building and killing our men!  We have to get you out, sir!  This way, through the trap door.  Just as we’ve rehearsed.”

“What about you, Captain?,” Damen inquired as he followed Sirat through the secret door behind an old, Republic-style statue.

Without response, the security officer shut the door between them and could be heard scurrying off to the commotion.

Damen overheard blaster fire, followed by the sound of boots rushing into his office.

The Imperials.

Sirat tugged on Damen’s coat and gestured for them to follow the narrow corridor.  Damen nodded and began following.  As the two men approached the last few hundred yards of the passage, which led to a speeder in a separate alley, Damen was overcome with questions.

Why would the Imperials storm our office now?

What are they looking for?

Is everyone dead?

Coming out of the corridor and into the adjacent alley, Damen was approached by three rough-looking men in civilian clothing.

“Sir, we’re with the rebellion.  We’re taking you to our main camp in the swamps outside the city.  Hurry!”

Damen and Sirat swiftly made their way into the speeder and were off.  Damen looked behind to witness smoke rising from his old office building, just as blast doors separating the neighborhood from the city limits shut behind them, concealing the damage.

Ministry of Logistics auxiliary office, Capital city

So many holopads had taken residence on the office table it was difficult to discern that a table was actually underneath them all.  Regulatory Officer Alamand Orgair sighed heavily and rubbed his temple as he reviewed yet another one containing the latest fiscal transactions of the Heermann family.

Orgair’s initial investigation into the Heermann family accounts had revealed a few truths.

The first was that Moff Heermann had indeed enjoyed a significant influx of credits around the time of the battle of Corellia.  But what struck Orgair as unusual was that there were no ministry documents accounting for or even tangentially acknowledging this significant matter.  Heermann had no record of disciplinary actions or misconduct.  Unusual.

Another truth revealed in the examination was that there was no blatantly overt mishandling of personal or official funds.  Orgair wondered at how General Veramin, who initiated this investigation, became aware of any such unethical conduct on Heermann’s part.

But Orgair had come to suspect Veramin’s motives as any evidence of wrongdoing by the Heermanns was still eluding him.

Orgair stood and set the datapad on the table, rubbing his eyes.  His momentary reprieve was interrupted by the sound of a distant explosion.  He walked up to the window and witnessed smoke rising from somewhere in the Dalo District.

Vengeance Outpost

One of Heermann’s junior intelligence officers entered the office with his daily intelligence reports.  The officer set the reports on Heermann’s desk, and the moff immediately began reviewing the datafiles.

A report on the status of Imperial, Republic, and Alliance military forces on Iokath.  Projections on necessary supply increases for the next month.  A request for additional naval support to initiate a partial blockade of the sphere.  An update on the Vaken Project.  Reports from Belkadan Command.

Heermann paused as something on the last datapad caught his eye.  He read intently on military activities on Belkadan from the previous day.

“Damen Auturis … presumed dead?,” the moff read aloud.

“Yes, sir,” the officer responded.  “General Veramin led the raid on Auturis’ office himself.  Quite a bold move, sir.”

Heermann studied the report further.  “I thought the Diplomatic Service advised the governor that moving against Auturis overtly would potentially damage Imperial control on the world … as there are many Republic sympathizers or neutral parties who either follow or respect him.”

The officer shrugged.  “I’m afraid I’m not read onto the Belkadan political situation, commander.”

Heermann rose quickly, his face becoming flush with anger.  “Prepare my shuttle.  Tell the Ziost Avenger to prepare for my arrival.”
Flashpoints and Operations / Re: Looking for Umbara FP Imperial Strike Team
« Last post by Sindee on 08/18/17, 01:15:36 PM »
I'll be available too as a backup dps or in case we try to form a second group.

Okay, so it looks like the prospective team makeup will be as follows:


If SquigglyV is unable to access the FP the backups for her position will be:


So the plan is to form up Tuesday evening, I'll have a better idea of what time when I get out of class.  Team members should, of course, feel free to run the FP on Solo mode or in groups via Group Finder if they desire until all team members assemble.  I may be grinding this FP a lot, even after we're able to obtain the SH, because I suspect the vendor may also have decorations or other items to exchange for the unique Umaran currency.
Storyboards / Re: "Hunting the Hunted"
« Last post by Kremon on 08/17/17, 11:01:55 AM »

Gharzog made down the polluted cluttered street, now packed full of workers heading home or heading for the factories as the shift changed whilst off in the distance, there was the occasional echo of blaster fire. Ahh, Nal Hutta. This was his own turf, and he knew it's ins and outs like the back of his hand, right down to each street corner. He absently sidestepped around a Gamorrean enforcer pounding a worker in an alleyway, before carrying on.
His demand of choosing the rendezvous point with the pirates was truly a perfect move on his part. The home-side advantage was entirely his; he had contacts, knew the lay of the land, had extra gun-for-hires on call, in addition to the little stashes of his, like the kind under his arm. But besides that, he'd stalked the streets of Hutta for so long that he knew the feel of it. Every movement of the populace, the atmosphere of the day-to-day life on the street, the sounds of the marketplace in full swing, or the minor movements of air that betrayed a mugger's presence.
Gharzog stepped to the side, avoiding a knife aimed for his ribs from a local criminal. With a fluid motion, he drew one of his blasters and fired twice at the hip.
The shots rang out in the close quarters, rebounding off the packed urban development and creating a red flash. The first bolt he fired knocked the knife clean out of his hand, the second hitting him in the wrist. The criminal was a young lad, but he knew that didn't make him any less dangerous so he kept the blaster casually aimed on him, careful to keep the case tucked under that arm from falling down.
"Made a wrong move, 'ey?" Gharzog asked as the youth quailed and whimpered, holding his hand. He shoved his hat forwards to hang down low, before stepping forwards and grabbing a hold of the mugger's collar with his free gloved hand.
"Now listen 'ere, a'ight? 'Ye don't go robbin' locals, understand? 'Ye rob the tourists. Off-world businessmen, Evocii hunters, and the like. Them's the ones that deserve it." Gharzog explained, before letting him go and dusting off his shoulders.
"Now 'ye go get that hand looked at." He added, to which the shaky pale lad nodded and ran off.
He rarely shot local thieves and guttersnipes like that. Not only was it bad for business; turning the lesser elements of the underworld against you, but it weighed on his conscience. These were the little guys, trying to make a living in indecent conditions without much hope for a future. Seemed cruel to rob them of their lives after the corporate and Hutt types robbed them of everything else.
With that sobering thought in mind, he turned and carried on his way without incident into the swamps, whereupon the town abruptly ended with a thick wall, manned by trundling Gamorreans that roamed about with blasters and axes. He had never figured out how to speak Gamorrese, though he could generally grasp what they trying to say or do. Perhaps for that language barrier, Hutts liked to keep them on the borders of their little empires, or outside their palaces, though the smell could also have something to do with it.
As it was, he soon found himself off the beaten path, up to his knees in murky sludge that was probably better left unidentified with dense misty fog hanging low over the ground. His stout clothing prevented him from feeling the worst of it, but he always swore that he could taste the bitterness of the air through the high quality filter, or that he could feel just a tinge of the burning acid through the protective clothing. But he supposed, or hoped, that was just his fancy. The location he'd chosen was near one of the many old pubs out here, the kind that did lively business, especially in times of cartel warfare, since they were always neutral ground when they were out in the middle of nowhere like this. But a huge refinery with towering chimneys had set up nearby, so the toxic acid had come in, and the patrons went out.
Now the whole area was left untouched by most, though some of the local hunters came in to get chemilizard hides. There were a couple out today, three or four massive speeder-sized reptiles sunning themselves in one of the acid lakes. He kept his distance from them, edging around to a stand of trees on a mostly solid island where he planned on stashing his gear. A quick look around for an appropriate place, before he wedged the case solidly beneath two tree roots that formed an overhang. That ought to do it.
As he was turning away though, he came to an abrupt halt and became as still as the trees around him. He'd caught sight of two figures on the edge of a ridge line. Could be hunters after the chemilizards not far off, or it could be brigands looking to make a quick cred off his gear. As it was, he remained completely still. The fog hanging over the environment would make it difficult to pick out details down here, he knew that much, but movement was a sure way to give his position away. Whoever they were, they must have arrived after he had.
Perhaps they were hired guns of Ke'rii's, here to gun him down? No, they'd have opened fire by now. But perhaps some of his lackeys, here to set up their own preparations?
How did he play this? Go in, make them know he was here and watching them? Or hang back from a distance, and try to observe. He chewed it over for a moment, thinking. Kriff it. He'd reveal his presence, but on his own terms.
He slowly edged down low, before moving in a slow cautious crouch around the ridge, careful to keep behind rolls in the land and trees. Hopefully, the slow movement and the dark clothing he was wearing would make him look like a shadow in the fog, or a chemilizard trudging along... A small one, that is.
After a few tense minutes of edging around, he was behind where he saw the two figures. He edged up closer, behind a fern so that he could see them. Both female, and both seemingly Human. One big, huge, muscular giant that looked like she could snap Houks between her hands, and no breathing mask or hazmat gear. The other was smaller, more average sized, he supposed? In a galaxy punctuated by millions of species, he didn't really know what an average size was. But she was in off-world hazmat gear and wearing a mask. Tourist, for sure. Actually, she looked familiar, though the clothing was pretty baggy and the mask obscuring so he couldn't quite tell.
“-ot enough, let's get this back to Ke so he can analyze it, and we'll let him tell his agent what he's got.” Definitely working for Ke'rii then, that answered one of his questions. This was going to be interesting.
Bracing himself for possible conflict, he tightened his breath mask, ensured his goggles were on properly, adjusted his hat, then stepped out onto the ridge.
"Well now. Ain't this 'ere just a lovely view, 'ey?" Gharzog said, peering out at the two of them from beneath the brim of his hat. Yes, this was going to be very interesting.
Outside Realm / Re: Old school afficionados might appreciate this...
« Last post by LVT on 08/16/17, 06:52:51 PM »
Man, how can you not like FFG though? They're pretty stand up.
Outside Realm / Re: Old school afficionados might appreciate this...
« Last post by Colton on 08/16/17, 04:26:21 PM »
I still have the original Star Wars Sourcebook from way back when. I wasn't even into tabletop RPGs yet, I just wanted all the info on Star Wars... and that blueprint of the Millennium Falcon. :D

Good to see they're making a comeback after all these years!
Outside Realm / Re: Old school afficionados might appreciate this...
« Last post by blingdenston on 08/16/17, 04:01:51 PM »
Not a huge fan of FFG, but I might be tempted to get these since I ACTUALLY still personally use the WEG hyperdrive rules and other ephemera. Neato!
Outside Realm / Re: Old school afficionados might appreciate this...
« Last post by Niarra on 08/16/17, 12:34:32 PM »
That is awesome! I can add it to my collection of sourcebooks, because sourcebooks are  :aww:. This is great. I still stand by SAGA Edition as my favorite SW rules set, but as I've collected all the original d20 system books, all the SAGA, and all the FFG, the old school West End books (in more than internet scavenged pieces) are the last bit I need to totally round out the shelf. Getting it in slick updated packaging is just a great bonus. :whee:
Events and Occasions / Re: Fool's Endeavor (Barge Party)
« Last post by Lolermelon on 08/16/17, 07:05:45 AM »
This is tonight, theoretically! I'll be around from 6 server to host. Once again, Nar shaddaa PVE instance, lower promenade near republic speeder. Will update this post with a map screenshot as well!
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