Lilith
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Posts: 35 
Affiliation: None
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Post by Lilith on Oct 21, 2014 9:20:14 GMT -8
*Lil followed the two away from the speeder and into the ship. She looked around as they walked to the holding cell.; she'd never been in a ship like this... And it was huge for just one guy...
Once the prisoner was locked up, she followed him around the halls, smirking.*
"Kyr'galaar? Whats that one mean?"
*Lil nodded as he outlined more rules.. but looking before her, at the 6 rooms she had to choose from, it was worth the trade. She'd listen. For now.*
"Alright. Sounds good. ... And, thanks. You know, for letting me come."
*Sincerities were difficult. She gave a shrug, and walked into the middle room to her left.*
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Cuyan Skirata
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 109 
Affiliation: Kara'yaim
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Post by Cuyan Skirata on Oct 21, 2014 9:50:14 GMT -8
Cuyan smirked when she asked about the name of the ship.
"Kyr'galaar means Death-hawk. It is folklore, an omen."
As he turned to leave, he realized, rather foolishly, that he had not asked.
"What is your name ge'tal?"
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Lilith
Member
Posts: 35
Affiliation: None
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Post by Lilith on Oct 21, 2014 10:50:25 GMT -8
*Lil leaned out from the doorway of the room she'd selected and grinned. She'd made a friend.*
"Lilith. And yours?"
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Cuyan Skirata
The Vegemite Enclave
Posts: 109
Affiliation: Kara'yaim
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Post by Cuyan Skirata on Oct 21, 2014 11:52:08 GMT -8
Cuyan nodded, memorizing it. It was a good name for such as her, she seemed to fit it just right.
"Cuyan. Rest well, It's gonna take about 14 hours to get to Nal Hutta. You're gonna learn what it takes to do what I do."
He turned and headed to the cockpit to get them lifted off. He sat down and lit a cigarette, while he ran the pre-flight checks and waited for clearance from control. His mind turned to Lilith, and wondered what her real story was. He knew he should have done something, anything, besides bring her with him, but he couldn't help but respect her spirit.
Plus, she was not unpleasant to look at, and in truth he had felt lonely for a long time.
He shook his head as the all clear from control came through and he lifted off, flying out of atmosphere and into space.
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Post by Maedhros Or'dinii on Jul 20, 2015 15:17:56 GMT -8
It had been some time since any of the old emperors kin had set foot planet side of the old capital of Taris. Once the capital of the fourth galactic empire. Ruled by emperor Raven Tarkin Ordinii, and it seemed now. A new story was getting ready to unfold.
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Post by Maedhros Or'dinii on Jul 23, 2015 11:42:49 GMT -8
Taris.... War torn since the fall of the Fourth Galactic Empire, and forgotten by the rest of the galaxy... Once a city world of immense beauty, and a place of peace. Now a battle ground, and home to the worst scum this side of the galaxy.. The city worlds civilian population had for the most part fled or been killed. What remains is a small band, not willing to give up their home or their hope. For them every day is a battle for survival, pirates who had just set up shop on the newly vacant planet on one end and the hutts running a smuggling ring on the other. Both had no love nor regard for the locals, The hutts saw them as profit, capturing them and selling them into slavery. While the pirates loved picking them off for fun... This is Taris. Once a beacon of hope, now a shell of its former self... And a distant memory.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 10, 2016 21:18:30 GMT -8
Setting his Nemesis-class patrol ship down in a spaceport located in one of the sections of the city that has been repaired since the bombardment visited upon it by Revan's Sith Empire, Razmik lowers the boarding ramp and begins the post-flight checks and shutdown procedures as he tells his team, "Kishen's distributors will be meeting us in the Lower City, at the swoop track later tonight. I want to get there ahead of time, and, he looks over at Wenqian and Armin, look for a place from which you two can observe the hand-off from that allows you to cover Alessia and I in the event things go sideways."
Giving Razmik a thumbs up, Wenqian says, "Got it boss," and then stretches after standing from her seat to join the others as they head for the boarding ramp.
"We'll split up once we reach the Lower City, Razmik explains while walking down the boarding ramp and shrugging into his dark brown Neo-leather duster coat, with Alessia and I going on ahead and you two following us from a distance to watch for anyone trailing us."
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 11, 2016 13:41:29 GMT -8
"That sounds like a very clever plan, old man, the red skinned, horned Devaronian that strides into the landing berth as though he owns it tells Razmik as he and his crew walk down the boarding ramp of their ship. But you won't need to go to all that trouble since we'll be taking care of business right here and now," the Devaronian concludes, stopping at the foot of the ramp with one hand resting on the blaster holstered on his right thigh.
The Devaronian, flanked by a pair of pebbly green skinned Rodians and accompanied by an additional two associates in the form of a male and female Twi'lek that are stationed on either side of the doors leading into the landing berth, is the only one of the five members of Mazer'kairn's organization not to have drawn his weapon, his companions all having their blaster pistols or, in the case of the male Twi'lek, blaster rifle, at the ready. Suman, the Devaronian, looks both amused and immensely pleased with himself, as though assured that he has the upper hand in the situation. Mazer'kairn, the head of the Ryloth based drug and slavery outift, had learned of Kishen's attempt to move in on their territory here on Taris in the mysterious way he seemed to always learn of such attempted moves against his business operations, and Suman and his crew have been sent to make it clear that Kishen's belief his incursion would not be noticed is a mistaken one. Whether they ultimately send this smuggling crew back with the message, or use their dead bodies as the message, is something Suman has yet to decide.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 11, 2016 23:03:43 GMT -8
Stopping midway down the boarding ramp, Razmik takes in the positions and armaments of the Devaronian and his companions and, after it has finished speaking, does some quick mental calculations and determines that the most prudent course for the moment is to try and talk his way out the situation given that a firefight is likely to end poorly for both sides and he has no desire to see any of his crew harmed if it can be avoided.
Lifting his arms out at his sides, as much to demonstrate that he is not reaching for his weapon as to signal to his team that he wants them to stand down for the time being, Razmik smiles as he says in his refined Coruscant accent, "Well, that is rather convenient isn't it? We'll just take the payment and you all can take the shipment, saves us a from a lot of unnecessary walking, doesn't it?"
As Razmik talks, his team stays in place behind him, with Alessia and Wenqian behind and to his left and right respectively, while Armin is standing at the top of the boarding ramp. Unlike Razmik and the others, Wenqian rests her hands casually on the handles of the blasters holstered on hips, her movement to do so slow enough that it should raise no sense of alarm in Suman or his associates.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 14, 2016 16:52:43 GMT -8
Suman chuckles with a shake of his head as though amused by the misunderstanding that seems to be taking place as regards to what exactly is going down at the moment, explaining with exaggerated slowness as though speaking to an absolute and total idiot, "No, grandpa, I think you don't get it. We're not your buddy Kishen's distributors. We're with an outfit that doesn't like it when some little runt like Kishen thinks we won't notice an attempt to horn in on our territory. Those distributors you were supposed to meet are cold and dead, old man, and unless you and your buddies want to join them, you'll hand over whatever you're here to deliver, and then run along back to Kishen and tell him that he can find someplace else to peddle his wares. This clicking yet, gramps? Or do we gotta send Kishen your heads to make ourselves understood?"
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 15, 2016 19:16:59 GMT -8
"Oh, no, no need for that, Razmik says with a smile, unperturbed by the insults or threats the Devaronian tosses about while revealing who he is and how he believes things will be going down. Razmik knows he only has so long to decide how he wants to play things, and after a quick assessment of the relatives costs of resisting versus the benefits of accepting that the organization the Devaronian represents has won the day, the Sector Ranger shrugs as though accepting the inevitable and says cheerily, We'll just hand our delivery over then, shall we? Between you and I, Razmik says after motioning for his crew to get the spice they are transporting, Kishen's not exactly paying us enough to risk life and limb for him. With an amused chuckle accompanied by a shake of his head, Razmik asks the Devaronian, I don't suppose that your employer is looking for a crew to move things about? On the whole, I'd much rather be working for an organization with the resources yours appears to have."
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 19, 2016 9:53:25 GMT -8
Laughing, Suman observes, "You're a bold one, gramps, I like that. Smart too. Good qualities to have in our line work. Stroking his chin as he considers the possibility of finding another use for this crew, the Devaronian debates the pros and cons mentally for a moment before shrugging a shoulder and saying, Gimme a comm freq we can reach you on, I'll float the idea by the higher ups and we'll see what happens. Maybe you'll get a chance to move up inna universe."
After the cargo has been offloaded, Suman waves the Rodians forward to fetch it, keeping a wary eye on Razmik and his crew as he knows that if they are going to try anything, the opportunity to do so will be passing soon.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 20, 2016 14:08:52 GMT -8
"I suppose that's all anyone wants in the end, isn't it? Razmik asks cheerfully, and then after providing Suman with the requested comm frequency, watches as the crates of spice are hauled away by the Rodians with a casual, unconcerned air. Kishen won't be pleased, but something tells Razmik that the wily little schutta won't be entirely surprised by the turn of events either, meaning that the possibility still might exist when the dust settles that the Sector Rangers get a a foot, or maybe just a pinkie toe in the door leading into Kessel's criminal world, not that there really much more choice when it comes to the types of worlds available on Kessel. More intriguing to Razmik is the Devaronian and whomever he is working for, given that they seem far more organized than Kishen's gang, meaning that they are in all probability a bigger player. Whether or not this little encounter ultimately leads to discovering whether that assumption is correct is anyone's guess at the moment, but Razmik is satisfied that he could not have come out of the ambush any better off than he has given that he and his team are unharmed. Until later then," Razmik says with a jaunty wave as Suman and his associates depart.
"Could'a taken 'em," Wenqian grouses, kicking the boarding ramp grumpily with the toe of her right boot.
"Not without a higher cost than I'm willing to have paid, Razmik says, his voice a bit distant as he considers the best way to proceed. I dare say they didn't get too good a look at you Armin, the Sector Ranger says, having decided to try and ensure that even if the Devaronian's employer doesn't contact them, they don't leave completely empty handed. Be a good lad, and see if you can't tail them to where ever it is they're scampering off to."
"On it," the dark haired Zelosian says, taking a cap from the side pocket of his jacket and pulling it onto his head as he heads down the boarding ramp and, after a quick peek around the side of the doors, gives Razmik a thumbs up before stepping outside of the hangar bay to begin his tail.
"Let's make sure we're ready to set out as soon as he's returned, shall we?" Razmik says, turning to make his way back aboard the patrol ship, hoping that Armin's return is not one made with foes nipping at his heels.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 22, 2016 21:26:39 GMT -8
Perhaps predictably, Armin's journey as he tails Suman and his companions will ultimately lead to the Under City. If the Zelosian is able to follow the group closely enough to overhear some of their conversation, he may, in addition to learning that they operate out of a seedy dive bar in the Under City, overhear that they are expecting a shipment from Ryloth soon, the context of the statement making it evident that such shipments are regular.
Once in the bar, Suman disappears into the back offices, with the Rodians accompanying him while the Twi'leks assume flanking positions beside the sole door leading into the office located behind the bar.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Mar 30, 2016 18:50:10 GMT -8
Armin lingers in the bar long enough to have one drink, not wanting to make it too obvious his only reason for having entered was because he had been following Suman, and once he leaves he does so while employing all the necessary tricks of the trade to throw off any tail he himself may have picked up or been assigned so that when he returns to the undercover Sector Ranger team's patrol ship he can be reasonably certain that he has not been followed.
Razmik, after listening to Armin's report, mentally debates the merits of pursuing the new lead they have stumbled onto, but ultimately decides that Kishen stands the greater chance of providing them with valuable information given that Ryloth is a large planet and they have learned nothing yet which enables them to narrow down where Suman's employer might be found. Better, Razmik thinks, to wait to be contacted by the Devaronian than to go off knowing so little to make setting a course any easier. Kishen, if nothing else, will give them a shot at making a dent in the spice trade on Kessel.
After laying in their course, the Sector Rangers lift off, making for orbit.
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Gaiscioch Dearg
Adventists of the Eye
Posts: 107
Affiliation: New Order of the Eye - Warriors of the Iron Fists
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Post by Gaiscioch Dearg on Jun 20, 2016 23:24:30 GMT -8
Karr tried to relieve the boredom he felt creeping on. He double checked the locked door to the abandoned apartment he was in, ensuring there would be no unexpected guests. Illegal aliens and people fleeing the Undercity would often squat in apartments like this. Not that he was much different at the moment. Satisfied that no one would be getting into the apartment without a security tunneller he moved refresher and looked at himself in the mirror. An average looking human male with sandy brown hair stared back at him. He would never stand out in a crowd and he certainly didn't turn the heads of the beautiful women on Taris, but was not necessarily a bad thing. The young man had recently stumbled into a new line of work that required a certain amount of subtly and secrecy. Some people liked to be flashy and make a scene but Karr preferred not to draw attention to himself, and his boss seemed to appreciate that quality in him. It didn't make him fit in with the fellow men and women in the industry though and Karr was disappointed about that. He liked people as a general rule and being shunned by his fellow contractors was upsetting. Just once he would like to be invited out for some Juma juice after a long day. He sighed and turned away from the mirror returning the main room of the apartment. There wasn't much furniture here, a few battered chairs that he had found littered around the floor and a table that he had laid some supplies on. It wasn't bad exactly, he had seen much worse as abandoned building went but he certainly did miss his place in the Undercity. The living facilities down there were not always the safest, but his home was cozy and filled with many more amenities than this place. The young man had been here four standard days already, waiting to complete his job. It was starting to get tiresome and he hoped to be done soon. Timing was everything in his line of work though and so he willed himself to not succumb to the boredom. Karr picked up his datapad and fidgeted through some of the recent pages that he had open. He had read them many times already, most were memorized actually. Basic stuff about the job he was on right now; pictures, information on the local area, the normal stuff. He quickly abandoned the datapad and checked his chrono, he felt today would his last here. Call it a gut feeling. Karr wandered over to the window where he had set up another table and rested his hand on the sniper rifle laid there...
The long range weapon sat still, propped up on the bi-stand. Such a sinister piece of machinery and highly illegal here in the Taris Uppercity. It was his tool of the trade however and so it went almost everywhere that he did. Karr had been freelancing as a bounty hunter for about six months before Lochaa the Hutt had sent someone with an offer to join his crew. Now he could say he was a professional of sorts. He grinned as he once again thought about making fancy business cards. A cruel joke that would oddly fit right in with the circles he now frequented. Chuckling, he picked up the rifle and braced the butt against his shoulder. He scanned the bustling street below through his scope, looking for the man he had been contracted to kill. Karr felt bad, he truly did, but you couldn't try to sell weapons to the swoop gangs and not include the Hutts. Everyone knew that Hutts were notoriously greedy and territorial. This man had tried to be sneaky, but gang members would sell out their mothers if offered enough credits. Word got around and soon enough Lochaa heard what he was up to and ordered Karr to kill him. The job paid well, and Lochaa even offered him a new weapon from the arms dealer's stash once it was found. It was hard to turn such a job down and so off he went and so here he was. As expected, considering the time, his target got off a public transport and began to make his way down the street. Karr couldn't help but notice that he carried a briefcase at his side and wondered how much valuable information was about to lost to local authorities. He wasn't paid to think however, and his orders were to just shoot him and be done with it. He waited, needing the dealer to come a little closer. The bounty hunter was a good shot, but he was no Imperial or Republic specialist. If he missed, or did not kill his target, they would likely disappear and Karr would not get another chance. The end result to that would be a harsh "reprimand" from the Hutt gangster and not getting paid. Nothing about that sounded good at all. He slowed his breathing, waiting for his clear shot on the victim. The seconds ticked away until finally, he squeezed the trigger...
PEW!!
The blaster bolt found its mark. Karr didn't keep watching, the moment he saw the bolt connect he started to disassemble the sniper rifle. His plan, while evidently successful, did have a major flaw. The apartment he was using would be found. Taris' Uppercity streets were crowded and monitored, making it impossible that the bolt or his rifle flash was not seen. It was unlikely he had much time before authorities were sent to investigate. The rifle parts went into a plain black duffle bag, all individually wrapped in cloth as to not make any noise. Once that was settled he powered on his data pad and loaded the program that would arm the four mines he had set on his arrival. The mines were powerful, and they were very expensive. Karr had bought them though, sparing no expense, to cover his escape. It was messy and did not fit his MO at all, but it was the only way he could think to not leave a scrap of evidence in the abandoned apartment. Shouldering the bag, Karr unlocked the door and moved quickly down the hall. His face was uncovered but that was fine, any cameras in this building had been ripped down and sold by the "clientele" inhabiting the building. He slipped inside the stairwell and began to race downwards. He wanted a few floors between him and his temporary home before he kriffing blew it to underworld. Once he had decided how many flights of stairs counted as "a few" he hit the armed mines and almost fell as the building shook. Taking a moment to regain his footing, Karr hiked the duffle bag to a more comfortable position and continued he run down the stairs, stopping once he found the floor he needed. He exited the stairwell into what was once a maintenance floor. There was nothing down here important to him except a door that led to a few more stairs that would let him out into the alley behind the building. That was his best chance and slipping away unseen and unnoticed. He found the door and pushed it open, his eyes adjusting to dimness of the back alleyway. As he both suspected and hoped, there was no one back here. Anyone investigating the blaster fire, and later explosion, had rushed in the front of the apartment. Turning to his left Karr made his way down the alley, away from the street where a murder investigation was likely starting to take place. He needed to get back to the Undercity, back to Lochaa and the credits that awaited him...
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Fabian Valorum
Member
Posts: 23
Affiliation: Power, Himself
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Fabian Valorum on Jun 28, 2016 4:04:04 GMT -8
Fabian Valorum stepped out of the shuttle in one of the Senate's landing pads. A groundcoach was already waiting for him; he stepped inside and the chauffeur accelerated the lavish, hovering limousine off the pad and in a giant curve towards the Senate entrance. But to do that, it would have to pass through the public, and they were indeed expecting Fabian back from his off-world trip. There was no avoiding them. As the groundcoach entered public space, journalists and admirers alike swarmed the vehicle's sides, eager to get another look at the highly respected Chief Whip who had been absent from Taris for several weeks now. As he came into public view, Fabian smiled at the crowd and projected an illusion of charm and energy. The first of the reporters' questions came immediately:
"Yes, yes, my mission was quite a success. The Governor will be very pleased to hear that the Counts of Serenno have accepted his terms in full."
*The Governor should be relieved that my diplomatic skills saved us from yet another interplanetary diplomatic rift. His incessant badgering of the Counts came close to ending negotiations and my request to negotiate with the Counts in person salvaged the negotiations when all seemed lost.
The Counts don't like Tarisians, but I've done business with them before and I'm well liked on Serenno. It's not hard for me to go over there and strike those corrupt fools a bargain or two. But that's merely a means to another end. By rescuing the Governor's pitiful negotiation attempt, I'll have even more favor here - both in the public eye and in the eye of much of the Senate. You see, I only act when there's something of benefit lying in store for me. And increasing one's standing within both the public and the Governor's view is a very considerable benefit indeed.*
"Of course not. I've worked with Harold for nothing short of fifteen years now - he has my utmost support and will always have it."
*Lyons is a well-meaning fool, but a fool nonetheless. He's survived his fifteen years in office - miraculously enough - by leaning on his advisors and aides as crutches. I, of course, am foremost among them. As Chief Whip, I keep the Senators and delegators in line. Looking after morale and discipline is an easy enough job, and it pays well - in the favor of the Governor. Every time I suppress a leadership challenge or control a bunch of unruly backbenchers who want to split away from the Party, I earn more and more of Harold's trust. He's a walkover now - I assure you I can tell him to resign and let me take the reins as Governor and he wouldn't object. But there's a time and place for everything - succession must be natural, or it begs suspicion. The same goes for a political leader's demise - if it comes at too strange a time, it'll attract more attention than you want.
As for Analise? As a Secretary for Health and Human Resources, she's a relatively senior member of Harold's cabinet, and she's as stupid as the media; they both think that she has enough support now to challenge Harold for the leadership - too bad she can't see that most of her supporting comrades in the Senate are just conniving rats, goading her into a leadership challenge to destroy her political career and ensure that she doesn't become a threat when they come to power. Her challenge will fail, but it'll leave yet another hole in Harold's political position, and pave the way for new successors even as it reminds others that challenging the Governor is bound to end in failure. Oh, Harold will fall too - all leaders with no backside and no bottom must, and it'll be glorious when he does - but that time is yet to be, and Analise will be the anooba that wounds the ronto so that the rancor only needs to come out of hiding to enjoy its meal - the fruit of someone else's labor.*
Fabian contemplated his response for a moment - one could never spend too long contemplating an answer in public. But there wasn't an answer that he suspected wouldn't come back to haunt him in the future when he continued to falsely announce his support for Harold. So he instead resorted to his typical plausibly deniable way of agreeing - after all, someone would be toppling Harold very soon - him:
"You might very well think that; I couldn't possibly comment."
*The one curse of the media is the longevity of its memory. It can remember everything a politician says throughout their career, so that it can expose his hypocrisy or contradict something he says and force him into a rather nasty position. If a politician ever gets overconfident, then someone down the road, he's going to get it in the neck.*
More questions came, but Fabian politely waved them off. "Now, the Governor's expecting me. I can't keep him waiting." To an outpour of brief protests and pleas for him to stay longer, he said, "Thank you very much. You'll have to excuse me now." Tipping his hat, Fabian settled back into his seat on the groundcoach as the chauffeur accelerated away towards the Senate's entrance.
*You see, many Senators would regard answering the public's questions as a waste of time - because the public's so stupid. But that's precisely why it's one of a politician's most important tasks. It's easy to earn their trust (though just as easy to lose it) and currying favor with the people is readying a weapon far more powerful than any blaster in the galaxy. A blaster bolt to a rival's head only means that they'll be another person to take their place against you. But what can any rival, any enemy, do when you've got hundreds of millions of devout followers - fanatics, even - on your side? To close an enemy's eyes is a victory, to be sure, but not always a secure one. It is far better to convince countless people to see through your own eyes. Unwitting pawns do more work for you than a corpse.*
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Fabian Valorum
Member
Posts: 23
Affiliation: Power, Himself
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Fabian Valorum on Jun 30, 2016 3:15:13 GMT -8
In the Office of the Governor of Taris...
The door slowly opened and Fabian peaked his head inside.
"You wanted to see me, Harold?"
The Governor's reply was swift and as joyous and relived as the look on his face.
*Indeed, he doesn't. I've saved his bottom from humiliation yet again. I'm the only thing keeping him in this office - which means I'm the only thing stopping him from going out. Believe me - it won't be long before that happens. He has no idea how much of his term has been an extension granted by me.*
"Of course, Harold. My duty is to serve Taris, and to do that, my allegiance must be to you and you alone. And it will remain that way, no matter who attempts to thwart your position or your authority."
"Don't be facetious, Harold. You have my backing. And I'm the Chief Whip. I keep the troops in line. If you have my backing, then you have theirs. If there's a bit of dissent in the Senate, I can always put a bit more stick about it."
There was a pause as Harold Lyons contemplated his situation and what Fabian had just said.
*Don't worry - I'll put the poor fool out of his misery soon enough. I'll just guide him a little further along the river of fantasy. If he can survive this leadership challenge, which he will - then it won't be hard to get him to resign of his own accord - not because someone else is challenging him for the position of Governor. Then the dramatic irony will ensue - it'll be him of all people endorsing me when I reluctantly accept nomination to run for the Governor. But let us not get ahead of ourselves. We have a wounded animal to tend to.*
"Of course, Harold, that should go without saying."
*Not even someone as blind as Harold fails to see that his time in office has been a mess - he's started out strong but it's stagnated for years now. He's been barely holding on to the Governorship - only because of me, I might add - fighting leadership challenge after leadership challenge. Of course, a beast can only sustain so many wounds before it gives in to the inevitable. But when a wounded beast is cornered, it has nothing left to do but fight. And fight Harold will - for dignity, for honor, for glory, for whatever illusions he thinks still exist. But this is his last battle. Once he defeats Analise - conveniently by the slightest of margins - he'll be caving under the party splits, the loss of support, the media's badgering. He'll have nothing left to stand for. And that's when I crush all of his illusions.*
*He might think that; I couldn't possibly comment.*
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Fabian Valorum
Member
Posts: 23
Affiliation: Power, Himself
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Fabian Valorum on Jul 2, 2016 6:34:17 GMT -8
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Fabian Valorum
Member
Posts: 23
Affiliation: Power, Himself
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Fabian Valorum on Jul 3, 2016 18:03:55 GMT -8
Fabian made his way to Taris Spaceport.
*A politician's work is demanding, and you need release from that prison every so often. I'm on my way to reclaim the Valorum Estate on Eriadu. Eriadu's always been ours, but ever since the backless cowards from the House of Tarkin curried favor with Emperor Palpatine, they've been put in charge and we've been forced to take a back seat. That'll all change in due time, I assure you. But every journey must be taken one step at a time, and this is the first of a thousand.
I won't be using the Senate spaceport for this trip. I'm not travelling to Eriadu on official business - but for private matters. Yes - matters. They'll be more than one. What will they be? You know very well that I couldn't possibly comment.*
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