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Post by Shaman Anaxilea on Feb 26, 2013 23:09:27 GMT -8
Fresia was a Core World located near the Metellos Trade Route.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 20, 2016 22:27:47 GMT -8
A large transport, carrying some five hundred Samuac, exits hyperspace and requests permission to land and disembark its passengers. After several hours access was eventually granted - and the transport slowly descended towards the planet.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 31, 2016 11:20:51 GMT -8
A small group of starships, traveling from Bespin, joins the now copious traffic flowing into Fresia. Eventually, the group of starships passes through orbital control, and heads down towards the Coromon islands.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 31, 2016 12:16:55 GMT -8
A kossak-class frigate ascends from orbit, orients, and then jumps to hyperspace.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 31, 2016 14:05:03 GMT -8
The time was nigh - a Kossak-class frigate exits hyperspace, and awaits for further instructions. It doesn't have to wait long. Ships from the planets surface, a hodgepodge of various makes and models, rise from the surface and dock with the frigate. A message had been sent out into the wider galaxy - and Quincy and their old holdings, their Samuac forces that had been scattered to the outer rim and back by the treacherous hutts, had been asked to gather in orbit above Fresia. And come they did. One by one, massive ships, some three Kossak-class frigates, eight Ubrikkian Frigates, and a single Chelandion-class Cruiser dropped out of hyperspace - out of their hangars, sixty Dunelizard Medium fighters and thirty Kimogila heavy fighters flew in formations of one Kimogila and two Dunelizard Escorts - for a total of thirty groups of three moving in defensive formations.
This...was a Quincy Moot, a meeting of all the major heads of the Quincy family. Upon each ship, an elder resided - ruling over the last fragments of the Quincy empire, jealously guarding their last ships and resources. The Chelandion in particular was owned and controlled by Elder Maxson, a ruthless Colonel who had fought, intensely, against siding with the Hutts in the last Cartel war. They had gethered together, however, at the call of Elder Sylvan - known throughout the families as a wise, venerable and even tempered man who took no action lightly; it was a testament to Sylvan's reputation that the families gathered to Fresia as a favor to the man. That, however, was the easy part. Already, insults were being exchanged over the comms, and, as a whole, the already tenuous Quincy battle fleet was threatening to fall apart.
Enter Sylvan - calling across the comms, Sylvan explained that Fresia, far below, was essentially under Quincy control. Further, it was explained about the deal that his own daughter, Sylvia, had struck with this mysterious "Order" of Imperials. The potential, the true bona fide potential, was present to recreate the Quincy Syndicate - if only the heads would meet and discuss in a elder moot, an event that in of itself had not taken place since the Huttian war. It took much convincing - but, one by one, each elder agreed to meet.
In the interim, a Lormar-class refinery station drops out of hyperspace in orbit around Fresia. Alarmed at first by the presence of a large battlegroup, Sylvan himself commed the ship to welcome them to Fresia, and to assure them that no harm would be leveled their way; indeed, it was proposed that their station be used as a third party and neutral site upon which the members of the collected ships could meet and negotiate - the stations role in the Quincy family would also be further defined and or debated at the same time as this meet. To grease the wheels, several hundred thousand credits were sent the stations way - upon which the station readily agreed to host the meet.
Such as it was, that the ten heads of the Quincy family embarked on shuttles to the Lormar station, meeting in the central command room to discuss the state of the Quincy.
God help Sylvan and his dubious task.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 31, 2016 15:47:03 GMT -8
"Ridiculous! I'll never work with that simpering wet nurse or his army!"
Rubbing his temples, Quincy Sylvan Khan buried his head in his arms. It was the same repetition, over, and over, and OVER. They were practically children, screaming and throwing tantrums at one another over something another had done over twenty years ago. Empowered and feeding on their own ego, even the weaker family elders had an overdeveloped sense of pride and power in their - individually - meager ships and forces. Raising his hands for quiet, Sylvan stood and tried to get everyones attention. "Calm! Calm, friends, I ask for calm!" Slowly, the group - more like mob - of thirteen elders quieted down, though many still glared at one another, and still others gripped daggers and holdout blasters at their belts in distrust. They HAD been operating for the better part of two decades as individual operations, after all - each had ties in various facets of criminal dealings. They were understandably wary of the coming together in one place - and even more wary and loathe to work together, lest their own little empires be rested from their greedy hands.
"First of all, I believe proper introductions are in order. It HAS been twenty years, and my memory is not what it used to be - as I'm sure the others can attest." That brought a small chuckle from several of the gathered elders. If there was one thing that a group of aging sentients had in common, it was to gripe and complain about aging. It was a good sign. Tracking forward, trying to keep discussion light and civil, Sylvan touched the top of his head, now fully white as compared to years ago. "I mean, seriously, did I get bleach in my shampoo? No? I'm just getting old? That can't be right." More chuckles - and even Elder Maxson, the most stubborn in the entire group, smirked a little. "Come now, brothers and sisters, fellow elders...all of this, is a young man's game. Here we are, holding onto our ships and our last remnants of power....but really...towards what end? We aren't young men anymore...and all the credits in the galaxy won't change that."
Elder Maxson waved a hand at that, and a few others muttered protests. "There are no young capable of leading us, Sylvan. They have not the old Quincy pride. They care not for the old ways, the old traditions...true, we grow old, but who better than us, to carry on the Quincy?" Stated, no, more like demanded Elder Maxson. Elders Greel and Heel, the twin elders, and Cynthia Quincy, the elder's only female, nodded in agreement. At the other end of the conference table, a mousy looking elderly man stood and pointed at Maxson - Elder Farrot, he was in command of a pair of friagtes and a Kossak, and was the largest force next to Maxson's Chelandion. "Maxson! You are short sighted! Our children MUST be put in positions of power...how else will they grow? How else will the Quincy go on? For us to jealously guard our positions...it accomplishes nothing!" Maxson, his face twisting in derision, practically spat across the table into Farrot's face. "Oh? And who will lead us? YOUR children? Last I checked you had no heirs, or is that just the impotence talking?"
And the room fell into shouting once more. Remarkably, all of this WAS an improvement from two hours earlier - they had, after all, stopped drawing their weapons and stopped trying to leap across the table to kill each other. It was, nonetheless, slow progress. One individual at the table, one Foreman Grant, simply looked on, bewildered. The foreman of the station, the gathered elders hadn't even agreed to work together, let alone whether or not to offer the Foreman and his crew jobs and such. Sylvan, raising his hands, his own voice joining the fray, was shouted over by the others - negotiations apparently quickly breaking down.
Then a new voice, a younger voice - called out from the edge of the room. "Ad Hossoc, Kisge Salut!" Impossibly fast, the screaming match crashed to a halt, the elders stopping, then blinking, then turning towards the speaker. Maxson, particularly, was aghast at the AUDACITY of the interruption. "How...how...how DARE YOU." Sputtered Maxson. "You speak of hailing new Kisge? Eh? You weren't in that war! We elders were! You sit down and shut your mouth young pup! We made this Syndicate, and we can end YOU." Said Maxson, his face turning red in rage. But the speaker, no less than Quincy Kael Khan, son of Sylvan, stepped forward - revealing the Samuac officers uniform that he wore. His father's old uniform, it harkened back to the days of the old clan wars on New Kisge, the Samuac homeworld. For someone to wear it so brazenly, and to speak aloud a salute to the homeworld - especially when they had not fought in it - was paramount to blasphemy. But Kael held firm. Looking Maxson in the eye, he challenged the man with his own stare, with his own rage, and instead of backing down, walked up to the councils table, and took a seat for his own. Before any of the elders could speak - and many were turning scarlet like Maxson - he spoke, cutting them off and stating his case. "I have earned the right to this uniform! I, and one thousand Samuac soldiers, have earned the right to uniforms just like this! You say none stand worthy of leading the Samuac, but under your own forces, young men and women sacrifice their very lives here on Fresia. Samuac DIED so that you thirteen old men can gather in a room and scream at each other. I offend you? YOU offend ME. I would personally challenge each and everyone of you to combat for your ships, that I knew it would be an unfair fight! You spit on the graves of Quincy, who died to bring us wealth, fortune, and POWER, Samuac who remember - who remember the stories their grandfather's told, of the Quincy and her pride, and her power. And, like those Quincy, my own generation has died and shed blood for her Quincy pride, so that, once more, Quincy can drink and salute in one voice...
...Ad Hossoc, Kisge Salut!"
The room was silent, and Maxson slowly leaned back, seemingly deflated. One by one, the other elders followed suit - all silent, even Sylvan, who between being proud and horrified, nodded approvingly at Kael. It was a sobering speech - Samuac HAD died to bring the thirteen together. And, like children, they argued ad spurned Quincy deaths in the interest of their own power. Even Maxson could see this - and he was sobered by it. indeed, moved by it. He had been a general in the old armies - in the old Cartel wars. He, above all others, felt the call of duty and service to the family...the fact he had been so blinded by his hate of others to not remember the sacrifices of their armies, specificallytheir armies here on Fresia... "I've been in the seat too long." Said Maxson, slowly. The others nodded their heads, even though a few looked unsure. "When did we become so consumed? When did we become so..." Maxson trailed off at that, and Farrot piped in, somberly. "Old?" Everyone chuckled at that, and Farrot waved a hand towards Kael. "Sylvan...you raised this one well. I pledge my own ships into Quincy Kael Khan's command...and I petition, nay, nominate Kael as General of our forces, as well as second the motion introduced by Sylvan; to reorganize the Quincy hierarchy, for the council of elders to release emergency wartime positions to the military proper, and to rule from political office." There was silence, deafening, as kael stood and snapped to attention, eyes staring forward. Sylvan voiced his approval, followed by one after another of the elders, until only Maxson was left. Silently, the man stared at Kael, who stared back, impassive, his stand at attention not easing in the slightest.
"I'll commit on one condition; I want to hear Commander Kael's full battle plan. Start to finish." Sylvan practically clapped his hands - it was pretty much the best possible situation they could possibly hope for given Maxson's staunch refusal to turn over power in the past. Kael, nodding slightly, began to speak. "Stage one: gain incremental power over a corporate world, until power has been restored sufficiently to unite the old Quincy fleet. Stage two; use newfound resources to stage an assault on a low value world to set up extensive operations. Stage three; solidify forces at world, implement galactic scale information network." Maxson shook his head, snorting slightly at the brief overview. "And this world you plan to storm...what candidates do you propose?" Kael grimaced slightly, before starting again, albeit more slowly this time. "That...is a difficult question. Several planets have little to no governmental defenses - Obroa-skai for its library, Prakith for its designation as a fortress world, Caamas for being practically uninhabitable. Those few and a slew of others...It's difficult to answer your question, because, frankly, the elder council hasn't weighed in yet. Do we want to be a visible force, or an invisible one? Depending on the nature of our business, even what we could tentatively call our "empire", we may want a high value planet or a lower value planet. It all comes down to strategy and tactical advantage."
Maxson nodded throughout the conversation, before, finally waving a hand dismissively. "Alright, General, you have my ship, and my relinquishment of my position. But know this - I will maintain my right to be a loud and obnoxious pain in the ass for everyone on the Elder council." The other elder's applauded, and several reached out their hands to shake Kael's - who did so promptly. In all...only twelve hours of negotiations - eleven of them filled with screaming, the other hour actual productive conversation.
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Post by Deleted on Jan 31, 2016 17:25:47 GMT -8
The following forces form up in Fresia's orbit.
From below, the forces that had occupied Coromon Aure evacuated, taking with them the sophisticated computer equipment that had been installed within the base. Additionally, the massive shipments of weapons liberated from the Rakk, as well as shipments of spice liberated from Dolga were squared away on various ships for transport - more importantly, all information regarding Fresia, its defenses, sensor nets and gaps, and information on its government officials were uploaded into datacores, and then stored away. Joining formation in orbit was the Lormar-class refinery station - whose foreman had been contracted to work with the Quincy on the premise of ore processing.
After a brief orientation, the Quincy as a whole jumped to hyperspace, leaving Fresia behind for good.
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Makhai Winters
Kumauri Industries
Death, like life is a journey...
Posts: 101 
Affiliation: Kumauri Industries
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Post by Makhai Winters on Feb 3, 2016 19:59:38 GMT -8
*An order comes in from Wild Space along with an accompanying deposit to Incom Corpoation.*
6 StealthX
-PX-4 Torpedo payload
::The order will be picked up upon completion:
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Makhai Winters
Kumauri Industries
Death, like life is a journey...
Posts: 101
Affiliation: Kumauri Industries
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Makhai Winters on Feb 5, 2016 6:03:26 GMT -8
*The order is received by Incom and engineers and technicians set to work on completing the order. As it is a rarer and more expensive per part order, some of the pieces need to be specially fabricated or ordered. The supplies quickly begin pouring in and he larger components put together in rather quick fashion to assemble the 6 small fighters.
Fighter Construction:
35%
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Makhai Winters
Kumauri Industries
Death, like life is a journey...
Posts: 101
Affiliation: Kumauri Industries
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Makhai Winters on Feb 6, 2016 20:20:22 GMT -8
*Work on the StealthX Fighters continues. The needed supplies are all assembled and the crews work diligently to complete the ships and prep them for their final stages of production*
Fighter Construction:
75%
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Makhai Winters
Kumauri Industries
Death, like life is a journey...
Posts: 101
Affiliation: Kumauri Industries
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Makhai Winters on Feb 9, 2016 6:35:13 GMT -8
*Work on the StealthX Fighters complete and a message is relayed to the purchaser*
::Figters are ready for pickup after payment is verified.::
*A corresponding payment is sent for the fighters shortly thereafter*
::Your order is ready and waiting in Spacedock 12::
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Post by Deleted on Mar 1, 2016 20:20:19 GMT -8
"And here we are," Fumnanya, alone in the cockpit for the moment, says to himself as, after taking the YT-2400 light freighter out of hyperspace, he watches the swirling blues of hyperspace give away to sight of Fresia hanging in the sea of stars outside of the ship's forward viewport. After slowing to ahead dead slow, Fumnanya rolls his neck from side to side and opens a comm channel to Fresia's planetary traffic controllers, and uses the specific code phrase he had been instructed to use to make it known that he has arrived with the delivery of the fungal and floral specimens collected from Feluica's fetid fungal forests that he had been hired to collect, Control, this is the Geheim Masjien requesting permission to land on Lesser Coromon. I've heard the flowers one can see from the eastern side of the island are particularly lovely this time of year.
Snickering as she enters the cockpit in time to hear the last part of Fumnanya's comm transmission, Dikelide drops into the co-pilot's seat and says, "You're lucky I just woke up, otherwise I'm confident I would have had a field day with that, she adopts a sing-song tone, particularly lovely landing request."
Grinning a lop-sided grin, Fumnanya shrugs and explains, "I didn't come up with that, our employer instructed us to use those words as some kind of signal . . ."
"If you say so, Dikelide says, then informs him of the rest of the crew's progress, Vejide says the cargo is all crated and ready for delivery, and Nko and Sango are actually both looking sober enough to be useful in offloading it, so hopefully we can make the delivery, get paid, and be off in good time."
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Makhai Winters
Kumauri Industries
Death, like life is a journey...
Posts: 101
Affiliation: Kumauri Industries
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Makhai Winters on Aug 9, 2016 4:52:19 GMT -8
*Work on the StealthX Fighters complete and a message is relayed to the purchaser* ::Figters are ready for pickup after payment is verified.:: *A corresponding payment is sent for the fighters shortly thereafter* ::Your order is ready and waiting in Spacedock 12:: *After the completion of the ships, a transport arrives from the outer rims with droids to collect the vessels. Credits are transfered from an account in the outer rim as well to staisfy payment. The droids begin inspections of the ships and download the needed information to begin all operations. After several minutes, the droids board the ships and begin the sequence of taking off. Soone the 6 vessels are in formation and head out of the atmospehre. The droids request clearance for departure and jump to hyperspace.* |
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Plu Or'dinii
Retired High Councilor 
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Post by Plu Or'dinii on Jul 13, 2017 20:58:56 GMT -8
[Outer edges of the Fresia system.]
There was a ripple in the fabric of space at the edge of the planetary system, and a lone Besu'liik starfighter reverted to real-space. Easing up on the controls after his exit from hyperspace, the pilot set his course for the second planet of the Fre'ji system, and his deceleration period carried him almost to the outer edge of the water world's gravity well. Looming up at him out of the dark of space, Fresia hung line a brilliant blue sapphire as she refracted Fre'ji's light and cast shadows against her moons, of which four were currently visible.
The pilot heaved a gravelly sigh, and switched on his transponder. Fresia control, this is Nuukh Hakh'khar Or'dinii, requesting landing clearance to Prime Comoron. I have a meeting with Incom Administrator Marcus Adenn. His arrival and the success of his mission would start the ball rolling on re-establishing and consolidating Or'dinii holdings throughout the inner galaxy. Ori'vod had given him very specific instructions. Preparations had to be made.
There was a moment's silence, interspersed with static, and then a silky smooth Frozian voice replied. You are cleared to land. Relaying coordinates and course headings now. Please proceed on your current heading until you enter Fresian planetary space, and observe all lane controls. Enjoy your visit to Fresia, aquatic jewel of the Core!
Closing the channel, Nuukh began his descent procedures even as he rehearsed his presentation to himself.
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Post by Deleted on Sept 26, 2018 19:54:43 GMT -8
The Maebh, a MC90 Star Cruiser, emerges from hyperspace, accompanied by the only three ships in his fleet to have also survived the orbital engagement over Rendili. Alliance Captain Merodach Cherney, the Maebh's captain, is as dispirited and weary as he imagines all of his crew, and the ground troops that survived the battle on Rendili's surface, are after their defeat at the hands of the First Order, who have now taken their tyranny to yet another world. Telling himself that he and the other survivors have at least ensured through their retreat that they can fight another day does little to comfort Merodach, not when he knows how vast the First Order has become, growing stronger and stronger until it seems as though there is no chance, no hope, of ever felling the invincible beast it has grown into.
Sighing and rubbing his bearded chin, Merodach tells himself that such thoughts do no one any good, least not his crew, and so he straightens his shoulders and begins giving orders for what remains of his fleet to set a course for a remote island on a sea below on Fresia's surface, The island, or more specifically the small, hidden Alliance base upon it, will provide a safe haven in which Merodach hopes he and all those with him can regroup, and hopefully regain their fighting spirit.
Accompanied by aMC30c frigate, a MC40a light cruiser and a Gladiator-class Star Destroyer, the Maebh adjusts its course and begins to descend for Fresia's surface.
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Mahal
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"It's Just Good Business."
Posts: 138
Affiliation: War and Money
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Post by Mahal on Jun 30, 2019 5:57:25 GMT -8
For decades had his family been in the business of building ships. His great-great-grandfather had been part of Kuat Drive Yards, both as a shipbuilder and engineer. His great-grandfather had even moved to the position of shipwright, having a heavy hand in the designs and ideas put into new ships. However, that time was short lived. His great-grandfather had many ideas that had gone unused, not because they were bad, but because they shifted from the already established style. The time and money to implement his ideas were seen as too costly to the company. Frustrated, he departed Kuat Drive Yards and sought to create his own company. Despite the disagreements in his ideas, he left on good terms, which proved helpful in getting his start. For the time up until the present, his family's company had worked as a contract shipyard, gaining the license from many of the most well-known companies to produce their ships. After three generations, that company had thrived in its work alongside the others. Many customers came here or were redirected when everyone else had full bays, yet they wanted to keep orders moving.
In time, the company fell into Mahal's hands. With the influence, money, and power his family had gained, the man looked to finally push forward with his great-grandfather's dream of building his own ships. Having an interest in war, knowing that it was what made the company profitable more often than not, Mahal had a darker side to everything. A warmonger, he occasionally instigated issues throughout the galaxy secretly, hoping to keep the theater of war open. As such, he renamed the company to Hadur Industries and changed his own name to Mahal, all to reflect that notion of being a god of war.
Alongside the company, he had been able to sway many minds to his business, creating the Lynictech branch that helped start making the designs to start his own line of ships. From warships to freighters to pleasure yachts, they had designs running constantly, drawing on ideas from his family and making them better, seeking the best designs that could be offered. He would make Hadur a name that would be remembered for its ships and their contribution to all walks of life. Already had three separate lines been created, with the designs on one being completed fleshed out and ready for production. Having already given the go-ahead, at least two of the twelve bays had begun production at each of the three stations spread throughout Fresia's orbit. He wanted them up and operational as soon as possible so when customers came seeking new ships, he could offer his own beside those he was contracted to build from others.
Downing the rest of his drink, he returned to his desk and brought up feeds from the stations while looking over the newest designs from his development teams. |
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Mahal
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"It's Just Good Business."
Posts: 138
Affiliation: War and Money
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Mahal on Jul 7, 2019 8:56:00 GMT -8
With the first groups of ships finished, Mahal made his way down to docks of the main station named Pantheon. For the time being, they only had the smaller support ships and the like actually finished. Freighters and small corvettes meant to help carry small groups across the stars. It was a good start, making available a line of ships for all walks of life, not just the pursuit of war or the need to protect one's home. That was how one truly made a name, appealing to the greater whole of the people.
Seven ships rested before him as he made his approach. From luxury yachts to more casual transports, an assassin ship, and a couple of cargo freighter, these ships covered most of the needs anyone had. As he reached the first ship, he was met by another man, well dressed for an engineer. Making his way up to Mahal, he handed the man a datapad carrying all the gathered intel on the ships.
"We've completed multiple test flights and system checks for each of the ships. A few had some abnormalities, but they were relatively easy to find and lock down. Some slight deviation in targetting systems, lagging times wit hyperdrive build up, the occasional overload. Nothing too major in the scheme of things. All in all, a rather successful first group of ships."
Mahal took the datapad and scanned through its contents as Makhai spoke about the few issues they faced. For some, things like that weren't acceptable. Yet, none of those around, including the younger man was concerned about it. It had been made clear that faults and flaws were bound to be part of the initial creation process. It was for this reason he wanted a ship built for everything available so as to sort out any discrepancies. He wanted them perfect, so it only made senses for this to happen and be taken care of.
As the man finished speaking, Mahal nodded. "Well done, Makhai. Rather successful indeed if these were the only issues to come up." Stepping forward, he made a beeline for one ship in particular: the Anais-class Star yacht. He always had a fondness for the Baudo and wished to create a successor to it. When Lyncitech first began creating their designs, this was the first on the list Mahal desired to be made. And so far, he wasn't disappointed. The flow and curves of the ship rang true to the original, with a downward flowing hull resembling a sea creature. The noticeable difference was the wings added near the cockpit which worked to grant better stabilization and agility compared to its predecessor. The single laser cannon had also ben changed to include two recessed laser cannons on either side of the cockpit. It made targetting a bit easier and gave it a bit more power when needing to defend itself. Moving up the boarding ramp, he moved through the ship, taking in the layout. Not overly fancy like a true pleasure yacht, but still nicely designed with plenty of comfort.
With his preferred ship down, he began working his way down the line. First came the pleasure yachts. At the top was the Oasis-class Luxury Star Yacht. Meant for the rich or those seeking the absolute highest comforts a ship could have. Like the Anais, it carried a pair of recessed laser cannons. Then came the Javelin-class transport. Sleek in its design, it was the most casual of passenger transports and as armed like the others with the addition of a single proton torpedo tube. Whereas the Anais was the most agile, the Javelin was the fastest.
Then came the cargo freighters. First was the smaller Aoire-class Light Freighter. For those smaller crews or those seeking smaller jobs, it was nearly a balanced craft for the hardworking man or smuggler. Following that came its big brother, the Elinko-class Bulk Freighter. Putting a large emphasis on transporting goods, it was slower, but packed more of a punch. Bother frame were built around a more squared frame as they looked to optimize as much room as possible for transporting cargo.
Finally came the last two ships, those built for conflict in some form or another. The first was the Shadow-class Transport. Not a front line ship, it was built around the basis of speed, agility, and stealth. Perfect for an assassin seeking to get anywhere unnoticed. However, it was a ship that wouldn't be widely broadcasted to the public. Despite the heavier armed ships, the idea of someone sneaking around in a ship anyone could buy always seemed to draw more panic. That wasn't something he wanted. Still, he wished it available for those select seekers wishing for a craft to better aid them in their work. Finally, another proud achievement of his and Lyncitech was the Aegis-class Corvette. Mahal had imagined a Jedi Order that pushed forward with its offense against the Sith, a Jedi Order not afraid to bare some teeth. So, they took the Defender-class Corvette of old and crafted a new ship following that ideal. Just a few meters longer than its predecessor, it housed five quad laser cannons and two concussion missile launchers. Not something to be taken lightly in a fight, that was for sure.
With Makhai at his side, he moved through each ship, going over the list for each of them and whatever faults had been discovered. Plans were all well and good, but one never truly grasped the design until the could walk through it. And none of them disappointed. A job well done to all his team. He'd need to find a way to congratulate them later. Doing so, also ensured motivation and morale stayed high. The better his team was tended to, the better they'd perform.
Once everything had been finished, he let Makhai handle the rest, getting all the ships moved from the docks and into storage so the next batch of smaller ships could begin. He only stayed around for a bit more to watch Makhai's performance before heading back up to his office.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 28, 2019 15:43:39 GMT -8
The hours had passed by, being lost to time as Cuuldruach's ship made its way through hyperspace, doing all it could to hold on and make the trip to Fresia. He couldn't contain the sigh of relief as the alarm finally sounded that he had arrived. Disengaging the hyperdrive, the ship emerged from the spiraling realm of blue to see the planet growing before him. He had to say, he timed it perfectly. Landing just outside the planet's gravity field, Cuuldruach pressed inward, which slowly revealed one of the shipyards hanging in orbit. It was quite a sight, seeing the six-prong design. He could already see ships outside of them of the larger classes, some of which he knew, some completely foreign to him.
Not seeing a fleet, he had to shake the bit of surprise from his face before he hailed the station, looking for permission to dock. Attention shipyards. I'm looking to make repairs to my ship or to purchase a new one. Permission to come aboard and do business.
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Mahal
Member
"It's Just Good Business."
Posts: 138
Affiliation: War and Money
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by Mahal on Aug 28, 2019 15:51:42 GMT -8
Mahal stood at the back of his office, looking out over the station and the planet below. He had gotten word that a new ship had entered the system and was heading their way. It was a required routine he wished for, reporting the comings and goings of the planet. He didn't rule over it but didn't need random groups or orders seeking to attack his business. Furthermore, there was always the chance that incoming ships could be coming for the station in order to make repairs or buy something, in which case, he wanted to be as accommodating as possible.
When word reached him that the Mon Cala ship was, indeed, seeking to dock, Mahal moved over to his desk and took a seat. If someone wished to come all this way and he had nothing else going on, he wanted to meet them personally. Opening up a channel to the ship, he spoke directly to the man. Welcome to Hadur Industries. I am Mahal, owner and CEO of the company. I would love to greet you personally and tend to whatever you may need. Please enter in bay three. I will have an escort waiting for you there to bring you to me.
As he closed the channel, he let Makhai know about the incoming arrival and to escort him to his office.
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Post by Deleted on Aug 28, 2019 15:57:40 GMT -8
Having received word from the head of the company himself, Cuuldruach felt a bit obliged to take the offer. It wasn't often the CEO troubled himself with such interactions. Perhaps he sought to ensure all customers were satisfied. That was a good practice. With the direction of bay three sent, he pressed forward with the ship, moving into one of the prongs.
He landed there, or rather, the ship collapsed on him a few feet from the ground, causing it to slam hard and jolting it. Luckily, the landing gear held. Killing all the systems, he departed the ship to find a well-dressed man standing there. No words were exchanged as he motioned for Cuuldruach to follow. Allowing the silence to stand, Cuuldurach looked around as they made their way onto a turbo-lift. Before long they had reached the top and moved down a hallway that led straight to a pair of large doors that opened as he got close. Standing in front of the desk was the man he assumed to be Mahal.
As he stepped inside, the doors shut behind him, leaving the two alone. Walking up, he spoke. "I take it you're Mahal?"
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