Star Wars - Power Struggle (Corp Sec IC)

OOC

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Star Wars - Corporate Sector Roleplay - Galactic Civil War Era

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The Corporate Sector or "CorpSec" was an independant sector created in order to resolve differences between Galactic Republic lawmakers and the heads of many of the galaxy's largest corporations. It was located in the Outer Rim Territories, at the front end of the Tingel Arm region. The year is 3BBY.

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Civil war rages in the major Galaxy. Imperials within the Galactic Empire bidding to secure their place against the relentless Rebel assault. Though they outnumber the Rebels and have far greater weaponry they do not have the same resolve and persistence that the Rebels appear to have, nor the dumb luck.

The Corporate Sector has its own problems. For the first time in Generations the outer Galaxy has directly interfered with their sector as the Imperials seize a research facility that apparently had been selling equipment to the rebels, which has caused an uproar on the board that controls the Corporate Sector.

Though there are many other issues, recently there have been problems inside the corporate sector that require more immediate attention.

• A high rise of criminal activity.
• Newly discovered planets with new species.
• The bankruptcy of several companies.

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Mar Den

Mar swore as he woke up hitting his head on the top of his head on his bunk. Corporate Quarters, they never agreed with him. At-least his work here was done and he could return home, or at-least to Reltooine. He could still not truly return home. He pulled up his helmet and looked at the dents and scratches and sighed. He'd have to get that fixed, sooner or later. He clipped on his wrist blasters and checked them, the left one was slightly faulty but it still worked efficiently.

He ducked under the door, all prepared and walked through the corridors barging past many of the employees. They looked at him with strange looks on their faces. He was never welcomed here, though it would not matter that he had saved many of their lives dealing with their little "evil alien bug" problem as the CEO of this particular company had told him. He never really bothered to find out what this company did, all he knew is they had a problem and they paid him handsomely to fix it. It was good enough for him.

Heading out onto the landing pad he sighed as he saw it, a old torn up B-wing, dents and scars lining across it. It was an old ship and he took a mental note that he would have to replace it later. She was old, and had little use for him now. Against the older imperials and smugglers it was a good ship but out here when every person who was a major power was rich enough to buy their own Acclamator at the very least, and some of the richer ones could fund and build their own little fleets. It was time for a serious upgrade, though first a drink.

He never managed to find a decent drink in these corporate buildings. It was all extremely strong and left a burning feeling down your throat that lasted several hours and wasn't as pleasant as the drinks he proffered. He hopped in and took off, hearing a angry little man shouting into his headset. Obviously he forgot to ask for clearance to take off. He was pushed back in his seat as he entered hyperspace and the ship rocked slightly as the inertia dampeners didn't get used to the strain straight away. He would definitely need a new ship or this would be the death of him...



Unknown

He looked out below his hood out towards the greenish tint of the nebula from the bridge of his ship. The Reaper. It was a grand ship, a Gladiator a newer design used by the Empire and it was capable of decimating anything that he came across, any puny patrol or group of pirates used to easy kills. He would take note of that, he would need to influence the board to try and work on the security of the patrols within the sector.

Extra militant action would make it easier to corrupt, it would mean more business for many countries and a massive excuse for himself to make a large fleet. He could claim it was all in the best interests of his company. They would never think of the other side, they didn't even know of his ship or this persona. He looked out of the bridge which was lain flat and empty, with only three consoles. Two for his seconds and one for himself. Only he could access this console and he is the only one that ever would for it held his most precious information, of his bases. True identity and schematics for his battle plans. He wouldn't be denied.

He watched out the bridge as a Corporate Sector patrol came towards him. Two Munificent class ships. He smirked, the corners of his mouth raised slightly though he tried not to show too much emotion and he looked back towards his two guards standing beside the door holding their rifles proudly across their chests. Unwavering.

He walked towards his console and entered his personal command code. "Time to get things started."

Tyrell Lorne

Tyrell swore. "Sith spit". He looked at the reports streaming in now. Gallofree was declaring Bankruptcy, this would be bad for him. If one of his rivals managed to gain the resources of Gallofree... Then he would be in serious trouble. The competition would be tremendous. He would have little chance of making his money, making his fortune. He would not allow himself to be outdone by those who had lied and stole from their own families.

He laughed as he thought of this as he stood up, sorted out his suit and then left his ship on the landing pad within the main Boards building. Walking up-to the guards he nodded to the guards and input his access code. The tall doors before him slid open and he walked into the decorative hall. Nodding at several people whom he did like. Men and Women who bought his products, made deals with him and helped him make his fortune.

He went to the elevator at the far hall as it opened he walked inside. Naturally he went for the private elevator as it began to lift towards the top floor. A extravagant dome that allowed him and any other board member to look over the planet and the great expanses. It was the most luxurious rooms, and the most hated in the entire corporate sector. For those of the poor in the sector, it was where the cruel and evil masterminds as they were called plotted how to squeeze the sector for m ore money to gain as much as they could out of this small corner of the galaxy.

He walked in and poured himself a glass of water out of a small fountain in the corner, even this fountain with no purpose other than producing water had one of the most luxurious designs possible, for such a small object. He walked over and took his place at the table, one of the 37 who would always have a place at the board for as long as he lived. It was time to see what was going on.

Tyron Omistel
Nasilnour, Nasilnour System, Corporate Sector

Tyron Omistel's day began as every day of his began, at five o'clock in the morning sharp. While many beings across the galaxy struggled with waking up, doing so slowly and lethargically while cursing their alarm chronometers, Tyron's eyes shot open when the familiar tune began, sitting upright in his massive bed and swinging his legs around the side to stand up. He immediately dropped to the floor to knock out a set of pushups, going until he could do no more, and then stood up again, cracking his neck and stretching his arms. Once complete, he headed to his gym, located on the ground floor of his sprawling mansion on Nasilnour. He began his workout with a three mile run on a treadmill, overlooking the gorgeous vista near which his mansion was built, complete with a waterfall and some mountains in the distance. At this time of morning, it was still dark, but the moonlight and starlight still afforded a beautiful view, and by the time he finished the rest of his workout, including a vigorous weight-lifting routine that differed by the day of the week, the sun was rising over the distant mountains.

Tyron always stopped to admire the view, taking it all in for a few minutes before moving on to his kitchen, where his personal chef had breakfast already prepared. He always had the same breakfast: eggs, hard boiled, with strips of nerf steak and a tall glass of milk. After breakfast, he returned to his room, where he showered and shaved, and put on one of his fine suits, the cost of which was more than most people would ever reasonable spend on a speeder. After adjusting his suit in the mirror to ensure everything looked immaculate, he headed back downstairs where his luxury speeder was waiting to take him to the Omistel Industries Corporate Headquarters thirty minutes away. On the way over, he would go over reports from the previous night, taking everything in in the total silence of the back of his speeder, looking up only when his driver informed him that they had arrived. Once at the Headquarters, Tyron would head directly to the board room atop the massive tower, and there receive a briefing covering what had happened thus far, and where the company was going over the next periods. Once that was complete, he would return to his office to begin the work that accompanied being the owner and chief executive of one of the most influential corporations in the galaxy. This happened every day.

Tyron Omistel was a creature of habit, which was why this particular day was especially odd. In the morning briefing, there was a noteworthy bit of information which made Tyron halt everything, something he never did. "Hold on," he said, startling the younger executives briefing him by speaking up; Tyron always took mental notes and waited until the end of the briefings to ask any questions. "Tell me that one more time."

"Alacian Drive Yards has just announced their work on ADY-15K, a new hyperdrive which can go to 1.0 hyperspace at double the efficiency of our B230T 1.0 drive," said Kyle Sguyel, a twenty-eight year old man from some of the best business schools on Etti that served as the company's Chief Analysis Officer.

This news truly shocked Tyron. "Why haven't we heard about this before?" he asked calmly, although the truth of his reaction was buried beneath the surface. Double the efficiency of the B230T? The B230T was the most efficient hyperdrive on the market. Omistel Industries had pulled out all the stops to create it, paying top money for the top scientists and technicians to build it and make it as good as it could possibly be. It had been an expensive venture, costing countless credits, but the success of the drive spoke for itself: they had made back their cost within a year of releasing the drive, and had made enormous profits over the two years since then. However, ADY releasing a new drive, especially one that was doubly efficient, could ruin all that. Omistel Industries would not only lose business, they would lose credibility. It would be different if ADY announced a drive that was 5% more efficient, or even 10%, as Omistel engineers were already working on improvements to their own engines which would be out soon, but 100% more efficient?

"I'm sorry, sir, but I don't know," said Sguyel, clearly nervous. "We only found out when they announced it.

Tyron leaned forward and pointed a finger directly at Sguyel. "It's your job as CAO to know things like this before they happen," he said sternly. "Now we're completely blindsided, and we're behind the ball." Looking around at the other executives who were going to brief, Tyron announced, "I don't give half a fuck about anything else you were going to tell me today." He stuck his finger downwards into the table, making a light pounding sound, and said, "This is all we're concerned about right now. Get on this. Find out what they're doing, how they're doing it, how they kept it a secret, and what we're going to do about it. Now."

Out of hyperspace literally tumbles a ship commonly referred to an an ugly, a cobbled together ship that was not always greater than the sum of its parts. This ship did have its bonuses however and one was that it could sometimes take the best with the worst. Regardless the ship orbited the planet while a broadwave message was sent.
This is the 'Jigsaw' requesting permission for landing.
Jigsaw, this is planetary control, why are we receiving a graphed message?
Planetary control, this is Jigsaw, Audio communications are out. Can you recommend any repair shops and a spaceport closest to them?
Jigsaw, this is planetary control, Go to 'the mynoks cave' its a dive for out of work mechanics. Permission granted to land on platform 327 ... any deviation of flight pattern will bring about your-
327 Understood.
The wookiee sighed in relief that they bought the ruse, he didn't have a translator droid after that last batch of slavers so he would have to replace it here. Wookiees were often suspicious when traveling by themselves after the fall of kashyyyk, or as its new caption was 'wookiee Planet C', so he would often pretend to by on a mission for someone else. A slave to an illusionary master was better than a true one after all. He set the ship where he was designated then donned the thick white cloak, some joked it made him look like a wampa, before exiting his shuttle. He carried a quiver on his hip with his bow unstring like an ornate staff as he took his way through the streets, looking for a droid merchant.

The reverent came out of Hyper drive with in the Corporate Sector. "Send out the transmission R4, and open the comms. Time to see if there is any work here" he said as the little Astrotech Droid responded with a series of beeps and whines. The message being sent out was burst Message to Bounty offices as well as private sector Hiring agencies. It was a brief profile of him with a list of References, some of them prominent people.

The Hawk class Assault Frigate drifted in space approaching a moon to enter an orbit around it. As the message went out any work, bounties, or mercenary work started to Scroll through his comms Display. "Looks like a good amount." he muttered to him self as he got up out of the pilots chair while the message was downloading. Walking out of the cock pit to the small quarters in the back, the size of your average room it had six bunks on each side of the wall with a small kitchen like area and a table in the middle with six chairs. Sitting down he grabbed a cup making a warm cup of something he couldn't entirely recognize, but it tasted fine and seems to of not killed the Iridonian yet, which is the best you could really hope fore as a bounty hunter.

The little astro droid rolled into the room buzzing and a whirling as it went to the very back of the room. There was a small elevator that took it down into the frigates maintenance ways. One day Dueth was going to figure out what the little droid was doing down there all the time, but for now it was sludge and job hunting. He pulled out his Holocron and started to scroll through the list as his ship computer downloaded and linked with the devise. He was almost amazed at the sheer number of jobs in this region now and would probably spend hours scanning them. Good thing he currently didn't have anything better to do.

Captain Yorac Tiental stood with his hands clasped behind his back on the bridge of the Victory-class Star Destroyer Fist of Calci staring out at the endless starscape in front of him. The Fist of Calci was here, in this stretch of seemingly unimportant space, on a stakeout type of mission. There were no planets for several lightyears in any direction, nothing of note save for a small nebula that would barely register on the sensors of any ships looking for anything of note. It was for that precise reason that Captain Tiental had brought his ship here. Yorac had been hunting a group of pirates, the Karshindi Pirates to be specific, throughout the outer reaches of the Corporate Sector. Initially he thought the pirates were simply a scourge to those outlying systems, opportunistic men, women, and aliens who were not as skilled as they were merely unchecked.

When Yorac got promoted and moved back into the core systems of the Corporate Sector however he realized that the Karshindi Pirates were more widespread than he initially thought. They were operating in the heart of the Corporate Sector, much more skillfully and effectively than they were out in the outer reaches. Yorac had been doing his research on the Karshindi Pirates, and was beginning to unravel the fact that they were much more organized. The Karshindi Pirates who were operating in the outer reaches of the Corporate Sector were amateurs, working to hone their pirating skills, after which point if they proved themselves they got moved to ships operating in the heart of the Sector to prey on more important targets. The pirates here were elusive, and Yorac knew that he had to think one step ahead of them.

This nebula was what Yorac had come to. Pirates who were this elusive had to find secretive ways to meet, far awayfrom the prying eyes of the CSA Picket Fleet, but meeting in space was difficult, and there had to be some sort of landmark which they could identify. This nebula had to be one, Yorac knew. His superiors believed it was little more than a hunch, but had allowed him to take his ship to check it out just this once. His crew was unsure about it, but they trusted him, and he trusted his instincts: the pirates would be here, he just had to wait.

Blister watched the view of space from his small view port from the tiny ship he used for transport. Somehow as a Director in a massive Mining Corporation, and he still couldn't really afford a ship larger than a small house. At a mere twenty-two metres the Bryant's Venture was a small ship, but built like a damn tank. The YV-929 class of freighters was not a common design of CEC ships, not by a long shot. This vessel was designed for uses that didn't include being a freighter, she moved fast, hit hard, and could take a punch. For those three reasons Blister found it hard to part away from the ageing vessel, even thought it was a few services away from a ghost yard.

The Bothan noticed a small bulb of light off in the distance, shining harder than any other small bulb of light out there. That was the star Xiang, or better known as what would make Blister stinking rich. Assuming he could get mining rights for the Star, he could make a fortune selling Anti-matter from that star. He would do anything within his power to get those rights, even if he wasn't even meant to be in this sector of space.

Vesuvius Mining was dominated by a collection of races, none of them humans, and moving operations over to a human centric sector full of alien hating corporate goons, was frankly a terrible idea. But then again, one went were the money was. For reasons unknown Xiang was were that money lay. There was thousands, if not tens of thousands of stars just like Xiang all around the Galaxy, but for some reason Blister wanted to mine this star, and this star only. The rush it gave him, operating in badlands terrority was thrilling, exciting and bloody scary all at the same time.

"Were on approach for the station now, sir." Lieutenant Henry Collnie said, interrupting Blister trance like state. "Shall I begin standard docking procedures?"

Blister yawned, he hadn't had much, if any sleep in the past few days. "Yes." was all the massive creature said. "Just make sure we don't crash, I quite like the concept of being alive, Mister Collnie."

Blister made sure he had everything he needed on him, his knife a small four inch heat-knife attached to small holster rapped around his left thigh. And more importantly the several datacards with all the loop sided contracts he needed for this job. Blister decided he was going to wear his battle dress for this work, and to him battle dress meant wearing his finest suit. Which was a damn fine suit, even if the massive furry beast didn't pull it off. The suit alone probably cost more than some peoples yearly salaries, but in times like this it never hurt to be prepared.

He waited patiently for a few more minutes as his vessel docked with the station which orbited the planet of Vra.

Mar Den

Mar walked forward into the bar on Reltooine. It wasn't as safe for bounty hunters as some other systems, but he was more likely to get a job here as the big corporate businessmen could get an excuse for coming here, and they generally would. Though it was also useful as the bounty board sat here, where all the biggest bounties throughout the corporate sector came in. Even some from the Galactic Empire as this sector was abundant with Bounty Hunters, and they were the best. He looked towards the board as many people began to swarm around it. There must be a hell of amount of pay going out for it to almost start a fight.


Unknown

He swore again, they were picking up a distress beacon. One of the two ships they had just destroyed had managed to send out a beacon, it had soon been dispatched but there was still the possibility of CSA forces heading their way. There would no doubt be several ships on their way infact when he had a second to think about it. This Nebula would no doubt be monitored as a possible location for a pirate base. Sadly he had not found one in it, it would of made an excellent addition to his forces.

He swung the ship around using his manual controls. Completely bypassing the other two officers on the bridge. They did not even attempt to give him a stern look. Unlike most starship Captains he preferred to play a more pivotal role in the command of his ship, choosing exactly where to position it and at the right time. The ships engines kicked in, though nothing was felt as the ships inertia dampeners kicked in and made the ride completely smooth. He pressed the button and this particular room of the bridge began to descend down through the tower and was replaced with a replacement command bridge, a dummy bridge in the case they were boarded.

The ship proceeded to leave the Nebula, at-least they wouldn't run into anyone, the chances of them running into a ship in random space was slim to none...

Tyrell Lorne

Tyrell sat at the board table waiting for the others to gather. Many members had began to flit in, but not everyone would arrive until much later. That is what happens when you get the richest people in the galaxy, they didn't exactly rush to get to a meeting where they wouldn't really listen to each other, and decide one major thing near the end. He hated these formalities. Sometimes he believed an Imperial structure would be more useful, but he couldn't stand using an Imperial Structure either.

He took out his holo-tablet and began typing, he had a job to do and it needed done. He put the post online on all known bounty locations, calling all bounty hunters and a large profit depending on how many hunters survived. He placed the co-ordinates of a landing station on a toxic planet.

After hours of scanning through jobs, and occasionally getting side tracked by looking through random videos people posted up on an intergalactic site for such nonsense, the Iridonian was growing agitated, you would think a system like this would have much for the likes of bounty hunters. But he had better paying jobs back in Imperial space. He got up walking back into the small little kitchen net area to look through to see if he had anything that he could mearly munch on. Residing that quest he went to his rack and crawled into the small coffin like thing to drift off to sleep.

He awoken by a rather annoying beeping and whirling as R4-X5 had come up from the confines of the maintenance ways and was whirling up a storm "What is it you annoying little droid!" he growled getting up and walking over to the little thing to kick it "Ok, ok i'll look at this job you found" He said sitting down pulling up his Holocron to see what the little droid was going on about. His eyes went wide as he looked at it "my god." he said turning to the little droid "I'm going to sell you for scrap metal you worthless hunk of metal!" he shouted as the job was simply to escort some low time executive, who apparently could only pay in droid parts. Cursing and grumbling he looked down, their was however a new posting popped up which looked quite interesting.

He got up and scanned through the Galaxy map, he sat down in the pilots seat and punched in the coordinates of the planet, Turning his hip and flying away from the moon the warpdrive soon kicked in sending them into warp. The inertial dampener making it seem like the sudden acceleration to FTL(faster then light) speed was non-existent.

Coming out of warp the Reverent made it's way down into the atmosphere of the planet when he opened up comms with the landing stations given "This is The Reverent requesting permission to land" He waited for a few moments before he revived his reply "Aye, your all clear for landing Reverent. Proceed to docking bay forty seven" With that Dueth eased his ship into the docking bay as a claw descended down clasping onto the vessel. A small walk way came from the wall and connected to the air lock mid way up the ship as he walked to a panel in the back wall. Punching in a code the the wall next to it slid open revealing his battle suit. He stepped into it, stepping up into the feet the back of the legs folded up as the back closed, encasing him into the armor. They systems of the suit lit up as he dark screen turned on and it ran through a quick diagnostics. Once all systems were green the small platform that he was on spun around and he stepped out as the wall closed behind him. Stepping on to the elevator he opened up the external speakers "Try no to break anything will you X5" He said as the little droid beeped and whirled. He started to walk through the air lock and then the boarding tunnel as the heavy feet thumped on the ground.

Griar Dulan
Nasilnour, Nasilnour System, Corporate Sector

The flashing light on Griar's datapad indicated to her that she had a new message, as it had for the past hour while she ate her breakfast and watched the morning holonews. She was tired; the last job had been particularly exhausting, and she was only just now getting time to rest. Whoever or whatever was on the other line would just have to wait. For now, she just wanted to eat her breakfast, watch the news... And have some caf, she thought, getting up and walking over to her caf machine. Putting a small mug under the dispenser, she waited for the machine to fill her cup up before shutting it off. Taking the cup in both her hands, she held it up and smelled it for a moment, letting the nutty smell fill her nostrils before she took a small sip. That's good. It had been far too long since she had a real cup of caf, not the liquid bantha fodder that they served on Selvin.

Her datapad buzzed, interrupting the flashing light for a moment, indicating that she had yet another message. What the Sith? she wondered, walking over to her counter where the datapad sat. Sighing, she turned the datapad's screen on and activated her messages. A holographic image of Kyle Sgyuel, the Chief Analysis Officer of Omistel Industries, appeared. The man looked nervous, something which was incredibly rare for the usually confident - scratch that, cocky - young executive; the sight brought a smug smile to Griar's face. Sgyuel was a grade-A tool, an exceptionally competent executive yes, but a tool with an over-inflated sense of self-worth; it would take Griar all of a few hours to extract every piece of worthwhile information about Omistel Industries from him, had she worked for another company. Griar had warned Tyron Omistel of this fact before, several times in fact, but Tyron continued to say that Sgyuel was too much of an asset to simply cut loose. Griar just hoped that that choice had not come back to bite them in the ass.

"Miss Dulan, this is Kyle Sgyuel," the holographic message began. "I don't know if you've heard the news, but Alacian Drive Yards has announced a new hyperdrive that is more efficient than the B230T by 100%." Griar glanced over at the holonews, where a Twe'lik reporter was reporting on that very story right now. Looking back at the hologram, Sgyuel continued, "We're in total damage control right now, trying to figure out how to respond. The drive won't be out on the market any time soon, but we are way behind the curve on this. I need you to find out everything you can about this new drive, and how they kept it such a secret. Send me a message with your reply. Thank you." The message ended, and Griar sighed; Omistel would owe her double for this, she decided.

Mar Den

Mar walked out of the cantina smirking. Easy mission, go in with a group of bounty hunters. Kill some indigenous wild life and get out. Hell, he could even do it without the help. He walked out towards his ship looking at it. With the amount of credits he could get, one million for the mission and a percentage of people who were killed. For every bounty hunter killed he would collect a percentage of pay from the bounty hunters who were killed. If he didn't make friends, then he would simply, kill them.

He hopped into the ships cockpit and plotted a course towards the planet, it was out of the way from many other planets but at the most it was rather close to Reltooine. He would be there merely in a couple of hours.

Unknown

He stood looking at the readings on his hud. A ship, a Victory-Class Cruiser an easy picking for his ship under usual conditions but he had been maxing out the engines for over half an hour, the power would not hold for a long term engagement. He began re-routing minor power towards the shields. The possibility of outrunning them was still on the table. He began charging the hyperspace generator, taxing the shields and engines like this would be a major drain and would stop them from gaining the ability to jump so soon. He turned to one of the officers. "Plot a course for the station, hold steady and prepare weapons. Only fire once we are fired upon" The ship began to pull away from the effects of the nebula, creating a brief trail. The sensors of the Victory Class would begin to pick them up...

==========Bounty Notice==========
Requiring Experienced Hunters
Offering One Million Credits
Local Native Species Target
Co-ordinates Enclosed
==============================