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Post by The Shadow King on Aug 18, 2015 6:47:05 GMT -8
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
Clap.
"Congratulations! Job well done!" The man that strode into the warehouse was one that clearly did not belong, a fact revealed by the light gray formal suit he wore and his black-gloved hands, as though he was too good to allow himself to be soiled by the mire of this place, but he moved as if he owned not only the building, but the people in it as well. Even to a trained eye he would appear unarmed, as his suit was well-fitted to his slender frame and the jacket left little room for a concealed blaster or slugthrower of any kind, a fact that some might see as a disadvantage.
"My name is Alistair, and I'll be your handler this evening." He smiled at the three individuals, no doubt an act meant to put them at ease, but the effect was likely ruined by the fact that the gesture never touched his eyes. "Doctor Matango, I'm afraid I must inform you that your services are no longer required. Our next operation requires a certain amount of subtlety, and a former chancellor of the republic is just a little too high profile. I'm sure you can understand." That smile again, just as cold and unfeeling as the first one, though this time directed solely at Ronin. "I'd prefer you leave before I continue, if you don't mind." His tone made it clear that it really didn't matter if the doctor actually did mind.
Once Ronin left, Alistair turned his attention to Fel and Melia. "Blunt instruments have their place, but this is not it I'm afraid. Now, on to business." His right hand slipped inside his jacket, and a moment later came out with a small data drive pressed between two fingers. "This drive contains all the pertinent information on your next assignment." He held it out to Melia, waiting until she took it to continue. "There is a ship being prepared for you in docking bay seventeen of the municipal spaceport, and the onboard computers have the necessary algorithms to decrypt the drive. Once you plug it in, two sets of coordinates will be automatically loaded into the nav computer. These are the only two places you will go until the mission is completed and you receive new instructions. Am I understood?"
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Galdaart Fel
Retired High Councilor
...not hiding anymore
Posts: 1,565
Affiliation: The Unfair Advantage
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Galdaart Fel on Aug 18, 2015 16:18:10 GMT -8
Galdaart felt like hell. Maybe a little cooler. He was Not terribly inclined to take orders, even at the best of times, from the closest of friends. And there had been far too many bosses of late, all with a boatload of trouble and no shortage of orders headed his way. The Sith princess, the Red bitch, Bateman, and now this 'suit.' Something inside the spacer's left temple started to go tick, tick, tick.
Fel waited until the Doc had taken his leave, shaking his head while the man moved casually toward the same door Alistair had entered through. He paced a little, ill-at-ease. He was all nervous energy, anger and adrenaline (some of that cocktail courtesy the injection Melia had administered only a few short minutes ago.) Fel paced as Alistair talked, listening to each demand, each caveat, the ticking in his temple becoming faster and more intense by the second. When he spoke, there was clear hatred in his voice, the words spat at his subject as if there were blaster gas backing them up.
S'ppose that depends, Alistair. Depends on how much I trust you, how good the nav charts are when -- and only when I see 'em, depends how much better the ship in docking bay six is from the one in seventeen, depends whether or not I feel like taking a dip in the lake district on Naboo before dealing with whatever shit you've got lined up for me, and I guess it also depends on whether or not you walk out of this--
His had touched the leather of his gunbelt, and that's where it ended, as the stock from Melia's verpine shatter sniper rifle struck Fel aside the head, putting him down. Tervho stood astride him as he struggled, placing a booted heel on his sternum, and pushing the outlander back to the floor. Reaching out, she accepted the mini-drive.
He'll be happy to oblige, Alistair.
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Post by The Shadow King on Aug 18, 2015 19:04:32 GMT -8
With a frown, Alistair pulled the drive back just before her fingers closed on it, a slight "hmm" escaping him as he did so. "I'm sure he will, but he doesn't seem to remember what's at stake." He slipped the drive into an outside pocket for the time being as he moved to crouch in front of Fel, looking down at him with something akin to pity. Or maybe disdain. It was hard to tell with that face, and the eyes that were never touched by the emotion the rest displayed. "She does." A brief nod to indicate Melia. "But you seem to have lost track. You see, captain, this still isn't about you. This is about them." He pulled a mini holoprojector from the other inside pocket of his jacket and laid it flat on his palm as it flared to life, pictures and names of the captain's crew flashing by in two-second intervals.
"Ah, I'm particularly fond of this one." He paused the cycling images on a holo of a young black-haired woman, piercing blue eyes glaring at the viewer from behind a very practiced smirk. "Karana Malora. Mm. We have some very entertaining footage of that one. Would you like to see a few minutes?" He didn't wait for an answer before tapping a small indicator in the lower right corner of the projection, calling up a security cam feed from one of the millions of nameless cantinas across the galaxy.
The scene displayed before them revealed the sultry smuggler seated across a table from three males of varying species, each of them obviously trying to get her to agree to something. There was no audio feed to accompany the visuals, but it wouldn't be difficult to discern what it was the three wanted from a woman like that. Fortunately for her, or perhaps not, a tall Falleen stepped into the frame not long after, and after exchanging a few words with the three hopefuls across from her, the woman rose and followed the Falleen out of view of the security cam.
Alistair paused on the last shot of the woman as she looked around behind herself just enough for the holo to catch a view of her face. He took in a breath and let out a contented sigh as he enlarged the image. "Now I'm sure you're just all full of relief right now, knowing that she's alive and well, but that's just the start of the footage, and it only gets juicer from here on out. Our Falleen friend has been very cooperative and forthcoming in that regard, but the girl? Eh, not so much. From what I've heard, she's quite the tenacious little fighter." With a swipe of his hand, he dismissed the projection and lowered the emitter, leaning just a hair closer to Fel as he pulled the data drive out of his pocket again and held it out to the still-prone man. "Now would you like to see some more, or would you rather do as you're told and get this over with so you can save your little damsel from that vile monster?"
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Galdaart Fel
Retired High Councilor
...not hiding anymore
Posts: 1,565
Affiliation: The Unfair Advantage
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Galdaart Fel on Aug 19, 2015 6:10:09 GMT -8
Fel worked very hard to maintain a straight face, when all he really wanted to do was crack a huge smile and cry tears of joy. Look -- there she was. Alive. In full colour. Out there in the black somewhere. Doing what she does, as only she can. He could have told Alistair the truth, that he had in fact just filled Fel's tanks, propped him up with more hope than he'd had in months. He could have told Alistair what he truly believed in his heart of hearts -- that if there was breath in Malora's body, she'd make things so difficult for whoever held her that her tormentor would consider ending it, or ending her, daily. He simply didn't have the reaction this man desired, and not because he wasn't fiercely protective of Malora, wanted to be by her side this instant, and always... it was just that he knew they were both damaged goods, in their own way. That even if she found him scarred and battered, she'd accept him, and if he found her abused and beaten, he'd love her all the more. And he knew that she knew this, somewhere deep down.
But most of all, he wanted to tell Alistair that she didn't need saving. Not now, not ever. Not from some man, at least. They were both survivors, for better or worse. Seemed the universe flipped 'round on some strange, cruel whim to allow them to keep landing on their feet.
...but if Alistair had more footage, that meant he, or someone close to him knew where Malora was. This could still be Imperial black-ops, but somehow it didn't smell like it. The Falleen weren't typically Imperial Agents, thinking themselves 'above' that, and Fel quietly thought that this smacked of a private enterprise. But he had no facts. Only a hunch.
It wasn't worth playing the hunch. Yet. And if there was any chance he could find out where Malora was, it was a risk worth taking.
Fel hesitated, but reached out, still under Melia's boot-heel, and accepted the data drive.
Why not? Seems I've got an opening in my schedule.
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Post by The Shadow King on Aug 19, 2015 6:27:46 GMT -8
Hope was a powerful thing, Alistair knew, and a much better motivator than fear. When a man was afraid, he only did as he was told, but when he had hope... Well, he'd seen men on the verge of death conquer odds that would have given an army pause, fueled only by hope that what they wanted could be achieved. Was he simply supposed to ignore the benefits of a positive emotion because most thought him evil? No. He would use that emotion until it suited him, then crush it and the man who clung to it when he was finished. But that would have to wait. Right now that man had a mission to get underway.
"Excellent!" A smile broke the lines of his face, though still failed to touch his eyes. "You should really get moving then, you're already behind schedule." Then he rose, turned on his heel, and walked calmly out of the warehouse and slid into a high-end speeder, which vanished quickly down the street.
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Galdaart Fel
Retired High Councilor
...not hiding anymore
Posts: 1,565
Affiliation: The Unfair Advantage
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Galdaart Fel on Aug 19, 2015 18:54:10 GMT -8
And so they had. The trip back into the heart of Curamelle from the fringes of the city where the packing warehouse had been had taken eight hours -- incredible that a forty minute speeder ride could take so long on foot. But when keeping a low profile was important, and since they were both carrying some pretty serious hardware, they weren't looking to raise any red flags with the locals -- especially when the city was already in an uproar over the recent death of a party official. There was also the burden of Fel being a wanted man, but as long as they kept themselves to themselves, that shouldn't be an issue. They arrived back at the space-port a little after dawn, and while bay seventeen loomed in their collective consciousness, Fel needed a mug of caf in the worst way.
Look -- just a five minute stop to load up on some jet-fuel, and then we can get back to business.
Melia had been silent most of the trip. Business and compass readings only. Fel could handle the attack back at the warehouse. In fact he completely understood it. He may have been out of line. Maybe. Melia had hinted at a partner. Lover? Spouse? ...left behind somewhere. He had even heard the name mentioned, but even though it had left him and he really wanted to ask her, now wasn't the time for a recap. He didn't really bear her any ill will. He might've done the same to himself, had he been in her shoes. No telling. Sure, he often shot his mouth, especially if there was an 'authority' figure around. So he could handle her outburst, and her brutal reminder of the power position she held, but this silent treatment was too much.
You're telling me carrying that duffel for eight hours on one shoulder hasn't got your dogs barkin'? Look -- I'm not saying the caf will fix it, chances are it'll be pretty bad... space-port food always is -- but it can't hurt. And if we've got a few jumps ahead of us, I'd prefer to caffeinate now, rather than after the bad coordinates we've been given end our trip in the middle of a solid planetary mass.
She fixed him with a look that was equal parts "you're pathetic" and "I'm too tired to carry on being pissed off at you" and lowered her duffel to the curb, stretching out her back and cracking her neck.
Large -- two milks. And hurry up.
Small black -- right.
He grinned and hurried into the cafeteria before she could hurl something at him. Before long, they were standing outside bay seventeen.
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DrRoninMatango
Member
Ello, I'm the Doctor
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Post by DrRoninMatango on Aug 20, 2015 11:27:37 GMT -8
The doctor dipped his head in acknowledgment to the new face. Oh how he needed a cowboy hat to add the dramatic effect. Alas this job was done. Before walking out Ronin passed Fel.
"Nice working with you bucket head, stay frosty and look after yourself...you don't look too good. Hope to run into you again sometime, sure seems like fun just follows you around!"
With a wink Ronin walked out and off into the darkness vanishing from sight.
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Galdaart Fel
Retired High Councilor
...not hiding anymore
Posts: 1,565
Affiliation: The Unfair Advantage
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Galdaart Fel on Aug 23, 2015 17:33:53 GMT -8
Stepping into bay seventeen, Fel was reminded again and again why he owned his own ship instead of renting, or owning shares in fleet-stock, or, I don't know -- buying time-shares. What greeted them was not by any stretch of the imagination a bad ship. He could think of fifteen, maybe sixteen light freighters he'd have been lass happy to see. He shoved his hands deep into his pockets, and if he could have turned up a collar, or hidden inside a hood, or better yet disappeared, or magically transported himself to, oh, maybe a Rancor's den, he would have.
Fuck.
He started toward the ship, not-entirely-unenthusiastically, but with less interest than he'd had for a vessel since piloting an unshielded TIE into battle.
Fuck? Fuck what. What? Melia fell into line beside him, her eyes questing, probing. Was there danger? Someone recognized Fel? She scanned the faces of a half-dozen deck hands who were finishing prep on the freighter.
YV-545. It was a good idea on paper, but not brilliant in conception. blank stares and a 'so what?' look from Mel. Really? You've never seen the holovids? CEC saw the tactical advantages of having the fuselage rotate around the cockpit centre-line. Like a B-Wing. She's nicely maneuverable, and not terribly slow **mumble** the UA is faster **/mumble** but there were issues with centrifuge lock, not to mention not just anyone could get the hang of piloting the thing. I mean, fatalities were high enough with the B-wing, now add twenty percent mass, six meters length and three meters height. standing back to throw arms wide and encompass the full breadth of the machine I mean, can you really see someone fresh out of the academy floating like a leaf on the wind in this?!
Uh, sir -- I need a signature for services provided.
The tech was about five feet tall, plus or minus, and held out a holoreader. Fel signed -- Hugh Jass -- and carried on walking toward the ship.
Doesn't help that CEC basically threw out the book with avionics, repulsor, thrusters, hyperdrive, armor and armament... everything that made the YT series golden, and just kept the basic shape of the most popular ship in history, and now we're stuck with this. He was really frustrated now, and punctuated his final word by slapping the landing strut of the ship nearest the planetfall ramp. Melia, for her part, didn't care one iota. There would be a bed, a shower, and food aboard. The rest didn't matter, and it was all over her face, as she stared impassively at the spacer.
You done with your little hissy-fit, princess? Can we go plug this in now, and see what the hell we're doing? holds up the mini-drive
Fel waved grandly, ushering his guest aboard After you, ma'am!
He knew where he was going, and thankfully, everything was where it should have been. By the time they reached the bridge, Fel knew the ship was slightly modified (shields, main drive units) but not nearly modified enough for his liking.
You want to do the honors? indicating the drive Melia shot him a look, and reached across to a terminal, inserting the drive. Fel began the pre-flight checklist, hating every second.
Uh, Fel? What's this? She was pointing at the screen. C'mon, Melia... this isn't a smuggler's log-books and paper charts. This is fly-by-numbers. They're likely using standard charts and marked lanes. What could possibly be giving you--oh.
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Post by The Shadow King on Aug 27, 2015 15:26:41 GMT -8
Greetings, Captain Fel! The clearly synthesized and annoyingly chipper voice began emanating from the ship's speakers mere moments after the data card had been plugged in.
I am navigation assistant NA-3015! I have been instructed to provide any navigation assistance you may require, and as I have also been programmed not to mislead you, I feel you should know that any attempts to deviate significantly from the prescribed course will result in a complete takeover of this vessel's systems! If you have any further questions please don't hesitate to ask, and have a nice day!
The voice fell silent for several long moments, then the indicator for the boarding ramp flashed to indicate a positive seal, assuring the occupants of the cockpit that the vessel was now spaceworthy.
We should get underway as soon as possible, Captain, Fel! Would you like me to begin the pre-flight checks?
Clearly, this particular bit of programming wasn't a big fan of wasting time.
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Galdaart Fel
Retired High Councilor
...not hiding anymore
Posts: 1,565
Affiliation: The Unfair Advantage
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Galdaart Fel on Aug 27, 2015 15:42:36 GMT -8
Melia snickered audibly, then checked herself and turned the barely-stifled laugh into a cough, while Fel simmered. He had to hand it to Alistair, they had learned from their mistakes. Fool me once, kark you. Fool me twice, kark me. Or something like that.
Thanks very much NA-3015! You go right on ahead with those checks. Meanwhile, why don't you let me know what system your program is embedded in, so that I can perform a very, very hard reset of those terminals?
He slumped into the pilot's seat. 'Pilot.' Fireblast. Glorified passenger, more like. He wondered how intrusive the programming was, whether it would even allow him to evade, if engaged. Likely not. No, that would be a deviation. He brooded for a few moments, but resigned himself to the wait. Opportunity would present itself, and when it did, he'd make sure the people in power knew how he felt about it. In the meantime, he had nothing to do but wait, and think.
You let me know when we're ready for lift-off, ok NA-3015?
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Post by The Shadow King on Aug 27, 2015 15:55:13 GMT -8
I'm afraid I cannot reveal that information, Captain Fel! Apparently "not misleading" was different from "answering every question with the relevant facts". I estimate three minutes until pre-flight checks are complete and we are ready for takeoff!
Three minutes and five seconds later...
Pre-flight checks complete, Captain Fel! You may now take the helm! You may plot your own jump coordinates if you wish, but I'm afraid I will be forced to override them if they fall outside the acceptable margin for deviation from the prescribed course!
Xinzon understood the value of some degree of autonomy for his unwitting pawns, but this one had proven particularly difficult for his previous handlers. He was not about to take the risk that he would arrive somewhere other than Mandalore, or that the ship would sit idle for any longer than was strictly necessary. If Fel failed to pilot the ship or plot the course himself, it would be auto-piloted to the rendezvous with the mercenary team, and from there they would no doubt be able to ensure cooperation. After all, Fel's true talents wouldn't be required until the run to and from coruscant.
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Galdaart Fel
Retired High Councilor
...not hiding anymore
Posts: 1,565
Affiliation: The Unfair Advantage
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Galdaart Fel on Aug 31, 2015 16:24:17 GMT -8
Galdaart considered pushing the limits. He had a few really short, fairly dangerous, waaaaay-off-the-beaten-path routes to get within spitting distance of Mandalore. But elia stood over him, an eyebrow raised in silent question, and this fight seemed one that was too annoying to undertake. At the moment. There would be another time. He swivelled around, kicking the duffel filled with the Trooper armor and gear away from him and into a corner, and entered several four-dimensional sets of coordinates into the navacomp, mostly from memory. (The rest he filled in from a small log-book.) It wasn't quite a standard set of jumps, but also didn't deviate from established space lanes too badly. Locking in the jumps, he waited for condemnation from the Navigational hindrance / assistant, and turned back to fire up main power and get them off the ground. Gonna be a little while to Mandalore. Once we hit first jump, I'm gonna find a rack and bury myself in it. Think you might do the same? You've been hard at it this last few days. Do yourself -- and me -- a favour and get some sleep. Last thing I need is to take a round from that rifle on account of you being tetchy or sleep-deprived. He laughed, and meant it as a joke, albeit a poor excuse for one, and she chuckled as the ship rose up through the thin could cover. Open space loomed larger before them, and Melia clapped a hand on the pilot's shoulder, a smile still etched on her features, though there was something else, too. Fatigue, certainly. But what?Fel -- you never need to worry about that. If I hit you with a round from this patting the stock ...it'll be because I mean to. She turned and left him in the cabin as they entered the Black. Fel exhaled deeply, and activated the hyperdrive.
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Post by Nicademus Delvardus IV on Jul 15, 2017 17:19:06 GMT -8
A swarm of troop carriers descended upon the planet of Corulag, which had willing submitted itself to a peaceful annexation into the First Order. Five regiments of Stormtroopers disembarked upon the planet, moving forward to secure the planet for the First Order. Banners of the old Corulag government were removed, with cheering from the crowds, as the red and black banner of the First Order rose over the main government building. Governor Marcus was re-appointed by a military official as the Governor of Corulag and a member of the First Order. Over the next several months, Imperial Civil Services arrived, making new ID cards for their citizens and promoting First Order ideals upon the populace in the form of commissars and political rallies.
A time of glory descended upon Corulag as its old Imperial fervor was roused once more.
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Post by Nicademus Delvardus IV on Jan 19, 2018 11:22:10 GMT -8
Corulag was among the planets that cheered for the rise of a new Empire. Its population, slowly turning more and more Imperial, than the days of the Deep Core Remnant, in which it was thoroughly divided, welcomed the change in regime and the establishment of a new age of Imperialism with the proclamation of an Empire. Rallies were held in honor of their new Emperor, all done by cadets of the Army and Naval academies on the world who proudly marched and saluted a statue of their Emperor, Nicademus Delvardus IV.
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Post by Nicademus Delvardus IV on Feb 23, 2019 19:57:04 GMT -8
Corulag witnessed a great commotion when news footage of the Fall of Mon Calamari was broadcasted to the planet's population. A pre-recorded speech by the Emperor was played many times over as a parade within Curamelle, composed of Stormtroopers and aspiring cadets of the Imperial Academy on the planet, was welcomed with cheers and praise by the Imperial citizenry.
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Jul 11, 2020 6:35:09 GMT -8
Sha Bautista sat on his Flare-S swoop bike watching the two swoop jockies get in each other's faces.
"I'm the fastest, you runt" "No, you're mouth is the fastest!" "Your mom is the fastest!" "No, YOUR mom is the fastest!!" "HA, not fast enough to pick your own insult!" "GGERRRR!" *the biker was speechless and growled red in the face. A moment later, he went for his blaster.
His rival drew his as quickly.
Sha rolled backwards over his swoopbike to take cover. Others standing in the ring around the rivals did the same or dove for the ground to avoid getting hit by any stray blaster bolts.
In a loud and flashy exchange, one of the bikers hit the ground. Sha peeked out to see one of the rivals laying on the ground cradling a smoldering hole in his chest. Sha wanted no part of what was about to happen, and jumped on his swoop bike. Others, similarly minded began to do the same.
Members of the rival gangs began a melee that would probably have a body count.
Sha's bike grunted, as he hit the ignition, then roared to life. Without a backward glance, he dropped it into gear, hit the accellorator, and released the break. His swoop bike pealed out, repulsers throwing rocks and debris behind him.
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Jul 30, 2020 13:17:50 GMT -8
With the blaster shots, more than likely the Imps would be called. Sha had reason to want to avoid an Imp investigation. He recently got out of the tin can after doing 60 months of hard labor. The parole board conditioned his release on staying away from "bikers, racers, and similar types," since they believed that gave Sha the best chance at reformation.
Reformation, Shmeformation. But he certainly didn't want to get thrown in the can, because he was a witness to a murder, between consenting biker adults. That just wouldn't make sense! Everyone in Curamelle raced! His parole conditions were basically house arrest! Well, not everyone raced; but everyone that Sha wanted to know raced. And that was what mattered. If he was going to get picked up, he had an airtight defense: he'd walk up to the minister of justice and say, "Judge you ought to let me go. Why? Because these parole conditions are wack yo!? And besides, I wasn't racing. I was just going fast, as I am allowed to do, and these guys go and say they think they are faster than me. Well judge, I can't let that slide! Its all about respect! I know they wrong, but they don't know they wrong. So I don't say nothin' to them, I just set them straight and I go faster. And then they follow me. And before you know it, I've driven 50km out of my way, and I am low on fuel, and I finally get where i am going, and the other guys are no where to be found. They couldn't go the distance, and got the message. That's not racing, that's setting 'em straight. But I never race! So judge, you gotta let me go!"
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Post by Nicademus Delvardus IV on Sept 25, 2020 9:04:41 GMT -8
Once more, another graduating class left the halls of Corulag's Military Academy. These decorated youths were ready to join the ranks of Stormtroopers, so while they graduated here, some would be sent off to New Carida for further training while others went to various garrison and frontline regiments to serve their time and garner experience. This place was among the pride of the Empire where the dedicated and eager could come to serve their Emperor and the nation. For what greater service was there but to serve upon a vessel, in a vehicle, or with a blaster of the Imperial Military.
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Post by Dread Lord Havok on Oct 17, 2020 4:31:50 GMT -8
The Imperial Intelligence branch on Corulag found itself suddenly home to an increase in activity. Apparently there was a new research division open and operating in the area. This would have only been known to employees of the I.I. who saw internal postings for research positions at a facility on that planet. It was not unusual for I.I. operations to be segmented in this manner, just that the operation was new given the volume of positions available... or there had been a horrible accident and the division was starting anew... Also things that were rare, but had happened in research projects developing weapons.
The reality was, that no one without the proper clearance knew what exactly was happening.
The SSE had finally finished its Large Armored Interior Research Secretorium ( L.A.I.R.S.) and was filling it with the brightest minds able to adhere to a security clearance protocol. Because at the end of the day, knowledge is more potent and powerful, when YOU know, but THEY don't.
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Standash Thul
Databank Operations
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Post by Standash Thul on Dec 10, 2020 13:18:20 GMT -8
Major Ricean walked the halls of the Corulag Academy. He had just arrived from Carida. He was here to observe. He had been very impressed by the officer transfers from here. They were some of the best students he had at Carida, and wanted to see why. Unfortunately, he could tell people were acting differently around him. It made sense, he acted differently when the Grand Moff or the admirals were around. He just never realized he could be one of those people for others. Yes, he was an instructor at the best trooper academy in the First Order, but he was still just a Major. He wasn't used to this kind of attention.
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