Perpenheimer

The Parallel Campaign - An Expansive Spacefaring RPG (Revamped)

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[[[[ The Parallel Campaign's Discord ]]]]

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The bright star of the Solomon system lay near the horizon, slowly dipping down beneath the crest of distant mountains, sending shades of luminous gold, brilliant pink and streaks of green across the evening sky, reflecting off the glass towers of Ipsum.

In Hyperion’s capital city, things were relatively normal. It was an evening like any other; Viveni and Kyrema milling about amongst the street-gardens, Humans and Kraians heading to their homes to relax, Jazekii returning to their palaces on the fringes of the city, and the whole mix of alien races spilling out into the clubs and restaurants and bars as the nightlife of Ipsum began in full swing.

But as the stars began twinkling into existence in the night sky, one by one, those who looked up to admire them could not help but remember the turmoil faced by those more distant and less fortunate. Across the stars, war with the Colossus still brewed, and the systems of the Collective, protected by the Vanguard, grew fewer in number as the Colossus overwhelmed and occupied and conquered.

But those on Hyperion, those in Solomon, were safe.

For the time being.

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A thousand years from now, we witness the rise and potential fall of the Collective; an alliance of alien races, banded together to battle the perils of scarcity and need. Technologically advanced and living in a new age of enlightenment, the Collective enjoyed a utopian existence for thousands of years. The Vanguard, the Collective’s protective forces, faced little challenge for eons.

Recently, an army, operating out of the darkness of interstellar space, has cropped up to threaten the Collective. This army, deemed the Colossus, draws its resources from under the Collective’s very nose, and seems to grow with each day. The Colossus strikes irregularly, conquering systems and cutting them off from the rest of the Collective.

Their intentions unknown, and with the the Vanguard’s forces waning, the Collective has seen fit to withdraw their forces inward and cut off the bridges that link systems. The Collective’s capital system, Solomon, now isolated, sits and waits as the Vanguard brainstorms its next move… or as the Colossus continues edging ever closer.

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Players may RP in one of several factions and as one of several alien races. The list is limited for now but will expand as the game does.

Your goal as an RPer is whatever you choose - are you a Collective citizen, biding your time until the Colossus shows up? Perhaps a member of the Vanguard, ready to strike out at the Colossus wherever needed? Or are you a simple trader of the Tyche Concord, getting mixed up in a war that is not your own? The choice is yours and where this adventure takes you is in your hands.

Remember to check the Wiki as it is updated for information on the Races, Technology, Factions, etc. of the universe.

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The Parallel Campaign - An Expansive Spacefaring RPG (Revamped)

@Gerrigen Thank you, and yes, there will be narrative threads that players can pursue. Several GM characters of different factions will be there to get players going on these threads, or players can go their own way and do whatever they like. I will be giving everyone things to do regardless of whether they follow the plot or not.

The Parallel Campaign - An Expansive Spacefaring RPG (Revamped)

---

[[[[ The Parallel Campaign's Discord ]]]]

---

The bright star of the Solomon system lay near the horizon, slowly dipping down beneath the crest of distant mountains, sending shades of luminous gold, brilliant pink and streaks of green across the evening sky, reflecting off the glass towers of Ipsum.

In Hyperion’s capital city, things were relatively normal. It was an evening like any other; Viveni and Kyrema milling about amongst the street-gardens, Humans and Kraians heading to their homes to relax, Jazekii returning to their palaces on the fringes of the city, and the whole mix of alien races spilling out into the clubs and restaurants and bars as the nightlife of Ipsum began in full swing.

But as the stars began twinkling into existence in the night sky, one by one, those who looked up to admire them could not help but remember the turmoil faced by those more distant and less fortunate. Across the stars, war with the Colossus still brewed, and the systems of the Collective, protected by the Vanguard, grew fewer in number as the Colossus overwhelmed and occupied and conquered.

But those on Hyperion, those in Solomon, were safe.

For the time being.

---

* * *

---

A thousand years from now, we witness the rise and potential fall of the Collective; an alliance of alien races, banded together to battle the perils of scarcity and need. Technologically advanced and living in a new age of enlightenment, the Collective enjoyed a utopian existence for thousands of years. The Vanguard, the Collective’s protective forces, faced little challenge for eons.

Recently, an army, operating out of the darkness of interstellar space, has cropped up to threaten the Collective. This army, deemed the Colossus, draws its resources from under the Collective’s very nose, and seems to grow with each day. The Colossus strikes irregularly, conquering systems and cutting them off from the rest of the Collective.

Their intentions unknown, and with the the Vanguard’s forces waning, the Collective has seen fit to withdraw their forces inward and cut off the bridges that link systems. The Collective’s capital system, Solomon, now isolated, sits and waits as the Vanguard brainstorms its next move… or as the Colossus continues edging ever closer.

---

* * *

---

Players may RP in one of several factions and as one of several alien races. The list is limited for now but will expand as the game does.

Your goal as an RPer is whatever you choose - are you a Collective citizen, biding your time until the Colossus shows up? Perhaps a member of the Vanguard, ready to strike out at the Colossus wherever needed? Or are you a simple trader of the Tyche Concord, getting mixed up in a war that is not your own? The choice is yours and where this adventure takes you is in your hands.

Remember to check the Wiki as it is updated for information on the Races, Technology, Factions, etc. of the universe.

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Star Wars - Jedi Exile

Alia Jazel

Name: Alia Jazel

Species: Zeltron

Age: 29

Appearance: The most notable thing about Alia is probably her smile: from a toothy grin to a simple smirk, there's always a note of happiness plastered across her face. Almost always. Complimenting her smile are her bright blue eyes, her soft features, and dark blue hair, done in a straight bob. Her skin is a dark pink, bordering on crimson, and she is clad in a grey-and blue flight jacket and matching grey skin-tight pants. Covering her hands and feet are black flight gloves and long black boots.

Equipment:

• S-5 heavy blaster pistol, plus extra powerpacks
• Sabacc deck
• Datapad
• Comlink

Skills: Alia is an excellent pilot, and has been working on ships for over ten years, as both a first and second mate, as well as pilot and co-pilot. Her memory is top-notch, with pilots and other employers taking a liking to her for her uncanny ability to memorize complicated hyperspace co-ordinates. She is also a skilled sabacc player, and is good at managing her tells (especially since she's smiling all the time), but she only plays for fun, and isn't too big into gambling. She's decently handy with her blaster, but hasn't really seen any situation in which she's needed to use it, nor does she really care to use it. Her most valued skill is her empathy - she has a naturally warm and bubbly personality, and she is fully able to decipher and diagnose the feelings and emotions of others, and respond in kind. Whether that's just because of a practiced ability, or some kind of pheromones is up for debate.

Weaknesses: Deep beneath Alia's happiness-exuding exterior, there is a dark, frightened core. She doesn't have a lot of faith in her abilities, but she tries to not let that stop her from doing her duty. She pushes herself harder and harder, trying to get past her limits because of past failures, and it seriously wears on her and her mental health. Some nights, she is wracked with terrible anxiety which she cannot seem to shake.

History: Alia was born to two Zeltron parents on Coruscant, inheriting more of her mother's genetics rather than her father's. She lived a normal childhood, as her parents were retired Coruscant Security Forces officers, who had met during their time in the CSF, married, and were dismissed when her mother, Tasiya, was pregnant with her. She grew up with loving parents who were always there to care for her. As she grew, she expressed her wishes to become a great starpilot one day - a wish her parents fostered.

Later, when she was of age, she decided to join the CSF. Her parents were hesitant at first, but later accepted her decision. At eighteen, Alia underwent training as a pilot in the CSF air squadrons. Her first job upon graduation from the training program was as an airspeeder pilot. She excelled in her position over the years and was considered an honorary 'flying ace' by her peers. However, one unfortunate day, her airspeeder suffered a mechanical failure, and began to plummet from the sky.

She and her partner tried to pull the speeder up from its dive, but it was little use. As the ground came rushing up to them, Alia saw death coming for her, and could not but help to cry out for her parents. The repulsorlifts manages to kick back in at the last minute, but it was too late. The speeder crashed, severely injuring Alia but killing her partner, for which she still feels responsible for to this day. Alia was lucky, and made a speedy recovery. She continued to serve in the CSF for another year, but was later dismissed for mental health reasons, which had been plaguing her after her incident.

She took another year to stay at home and heal with her parents, before picking herself up and looking for new work. She was hired as second mate on a passenger transport ship, eventually moving up to first mate when the opportunity arrived. Following that contract, she found herself as co-pilot and student to a pilot aboard a diplomatic vessel. After several more years, she was made pilot herself, and served aboard several diplomatic ships, furthering her skills. She continued like this for a while before the Clone Wars broke out, and she resigned her position to be with her family for a few months. Eventually, she found herself signing a contract with the Jedi, in which she agreed to serve as co-pilot aboard a Jedi training cruiser for the next few years....

Star Wars - Lawless Galaxy

Darton Fanx

D A R T O N F A N X

Name: Darton Fanx

Species: Human

Age: 41

Appearance: A rather burly and sly fellow, Fanx shows his age through his face. His short, messy brown hair is streaked with gray, as is his short salt-and-pepper beard. A few wrinkles can be seen slooping across his fair skin, but his bright green eyes still show a lot of life. A wry smile crosses his lips. He wears a brown leather bomber jacket, accented with cream-coloured fur on the collar and cuffs. His undershirt is standard black, and he wears tan-coloured custom flight pants, with heating elements to keep himself warm in the cold cockpit of his ship. He is also clad in short black boots, and is never far from his brown leather belt holster, and often dons an old Y-Wing helmet, decorated in green.

Faction: Hutt Cartel, Smuggler

Equipment:

• Y-Wing Helmet, decorated with green markings
• DL-18 blaster pistol, modified with variable stun settings (from temporary loss of balance to full knockout), and a DH-17 scope
• Extra powerpacks for his DL-18
• A utility knife
• Hold-out EC-17 concealed in his jacket
• Beckon Call, for remotely controlling his craft.
• Datachips with pre-programmed hyperspace co-ordinates
• Comlink

His ship, the Buzzard

Ship Manufacturer: Incom/Subpro

Ship Designation: Buzzard

Ship Class: Late-model Z-95 Headhunter

Ship Armament: Customized with two KX9 laser cannons, and proton torpedo launchers replacing the concussion missile launchers.

Ship Technologies/Gadgets: First and foremost, there is a smuggling compartment under the main hull, only accessible from outside the ship. To make room for this compartment, ship components were removed, and relocated forward, where the now-removed Ion cannon used to be. The ship also carries long-range scanners and a souped-up Gbk-435 hyperdrive motivator, and it is slave-rigged to his Beckon Call.

Ship Appearance: The Buzzard looks like a standard Z-95, its special modifications invisible to anything but a direct, up-close scan. It, like Fanx' helmet, is decorated in shades of green, with some dark red striping on the left size of the nose, hull and wing. It also features a customized cockpit, made to be more comfortable, more spacious, and boasts leather seating.

Skills: Fanx knows the underworld well. He's been doing his job for twenty years, and as such he's got enough wisdom locked up there that he knows when to go ahead with a deal, when to pull out of one, who to suspect, who to charm and who to shoot. He's street-smart and handy with a blaster, and he knows a trick or two with his knife. In space, he's a competent pilot and is known to push his Z-95 to its limits. He prefers to avoid confrontation, in space and on the ground, but is capable of handling his own.

Weaknesses: Overconfidence is his weakness. While he doesn't have much faith in friends, he can often get himself in trouble by underestimating the circumstances of a situation he's in. Sure, he can take on a couple thugs at a time, but his confidence will drop if he gets into a blaster fight with, say, a dozen or so angry Trandoshans over non-functional disruptor weapons. Not that that kind of situation has ever happened, oh no. No, he'd be much too embarrassed to tell anyone about that incident. That incident that didn't happen.

He's also a small-time gambler, but pretty down on his luck.

History:

Darton was born to a couple of junkers on Ord Mantell. He grew up with an Imperial presence in the system, but his settlement was far enough out of the way so to avoid any Imperial interest. He didn't have much interest from his parents, either. The family was poor, selling scraps for credits. When he was old enough, Darton found his way onto a freighter, shipping material in and out of Hutt Space. On the freighter, he found simple work, and earned a meager salary. Eventually, he discovered the people he was working for were, in fact, small-time smugglers.

He wanted in on their operation, and over the next few years, Darton proved himself a valuable asset to the smuggler trade. Though the operation often went smoothly, an imperial inspection shut them down, and most of the crew, including Darton, found themselves in Imperial prison. Darton only served one year, but during that time he managed to make some inside money by trading spice smuggled into the prison to bored Imperial officers. When he was released, Darton found that smuggling might be just the business for him.

Returning to Ord Mantell, Darton continued working as a junker alongside his parents for another two years, until they uncovered a disused Z-95 in a scrap pile. Instead of selling it, Darton requested he keep it for himself, as he formed a plan for future business ventures. Taking it to a local mechanic, he used up a lot of his earned credits to get the gutted ship functional once again, and specifically requested the inclusion of a secret compartment underneath the ship.

While he and the mechanic continued working on the ship, Darton spent time selling spice to addicts on the streets of Ord Mantell, putting more coin in his pocket. Eventually, the Z-95 was able to run again, and upon firing up, an annoying buzzing noise emanated from the vehicle, as a result of the components that had been moved around to make room for the compartment. The mechanic joked that it sounded like a buzzard, and the name stuck. Continuing his work on the streets and work in the hangar, the Buzzard was soon fully operational and ready to fly (minus the buzzing).

It was in those intervening years that Darton Fanx found his fortune by smuggling small, but high-value items. No Imperial patrol would care about a spacer in an old Z-95, and he avoided their... distaste of smugglers on many an occasion. As he learned more and more about the dangers of smuggling, and getting into a few blaster-fights, Darton became adept at his trade over the years. He began increasingly customizing his ship even more, but the one thing that always remained the same was that little compartment.

After a few deals with some prominent figures, Darton was referred to the Hutt Cartel, who were always looking for more smugglers. He accepted their offer, and began a new chapter of his life. For the Hutts, Darton delivered many small goods - high-priced valuables, numbers of counterfeit credits, high-quality spice, and illegal weaponry. He earned a small fortune smuggling for the Hutts, but sent sizeable portions of his payments back to his parents on Ord Mantell. He continued on this path for years, until he learned of their passing. He grieved briefly, but was contented knowing that they spent their last years living comfortably. After their death, he spent some time gambling, but he found he wasn't very good, and lost a few times to a particular drunk Dug.

Now in his forties, Darton is an experienced smuggler, and a prized member of the Hutt Cartel.

Star Wars - Jedi Exile

Interested.

Star Wars - Lawless Galaxy

@Sep Right, forgot to add that in. Edited. I was gonna add it to the weaknesses section but I'll put it in history as per the rules.

Star Wars - Lawless Galaxy

Well, here goes nothing.

Darton Fanx

D A R T O N F A N X

Name: Darton Fanx

Species: Human

Age: 41

Appearance: A rather burly and sly fellow, Fanx shows his age through his face. His short, messy brown hair is streaked with gray, as is his short salt-and-pepper beard. A few wrinkles can be seen slooping across his fair skin, but his bright green eyes still show a lot of life. A wry smile crosses his lips. He wears a brown leather bomber jacket, accented with cream-coloured fur on the collar and cuffs. His undershirt is standard black, and he wears tan-coloured custom flight pants, with heating elements to keep himself warm in the cold cockpit of his ship. He is also clad in short black boots, and is never far from his brown leather belt holster, and often dons an old Y-Wing helmet, decorated in green.

Faction: Hutt Cartel, Smuggler

Equipment:

• Y-Wing Helmet, decorated with green markings
• DL-18 blaster pistol, modified with variable stun settings (from temporary loss of balance to full knockout), and a DH-17 scope
• Extra powerpacks for his DL-18
• A utility knife
• Hold-out EC-17 concealed in his jacket

His ship, the Buzzard

Ship Manufacturer: Incom/Subpro

Ship Designation: Buzzard

Ship Class: Late-model Z-95 Headhunter

Ship Armament: Customized with two KX9 laser cannons, and proton torpedo launchers replacing the concussion missile launchers.

Ship Technologies/Gadgets: First and foremost, there is a smuggling compartment under the main hull, only accessible from outside the ship. To make room for this compartment, ship components were removed, and relocated forward, where the now-removed Ion cannon used to be. The ship also carries long-range scanners and a souped-up Gbk-435 hyperdrive motivator.

Ship Appearance: The Buzzard looks like a standard Z-95, its special modifications invisible to anything but a direct, up-close scan. It, like Fanx' helmet, is decorated in shades of green, with some dark red striping on the left size of the nose, hull and wing. It also features a customized cockpit, made to be more comfortable, more spacious, and boasts leather seating.

Skills: Fanx knows the underworld well. He's been doing his job for twenty years, and as such he's got enough wisdom locked up there that he knows when to go ahead with a deal, when to pull out of one, who to suspect, who to charm and who to shoot. He's street-smart and handy with a blaster, and he knows a trick or two with his knife. In space, he's a competent pilot and is known to push his Z-95 to its limits. He prefers to avoid confrontation, in space and on the ground, but is capable of handling his own.

Weaknesses: Overconfidence is his weakness. While he doesn't have much faith in friends, he can often get himself in trouble by underestimating the circumstances of a situation he's in. Sure, he can take on a couple thugs at a time, but his confidence will drop if he gets into a blaster fight with, say, a dozen or so angry Trandoshans over non-functional disruptor weapons. Not that that kind of situation has ever happened, oh no. No, he'd be much too embarrassed to tell anyone about that incident. That incident that didn't happen.

He's also a small-time gambler, but pretty down on his luck.

History:

Darton was born to a couple of junkers on Ord Mantell. He grew up with an Imperial presence in the system, but his settlement was far enough out of the way so to avoid any Imperial interest. He didn't have much interest from his parents, either. The family was poor, selling scraps for credits. When he was old enough, Darton found his way onto a freighter, shipping material in and out of Hutt Space. On the freighter, he found simple work, and earned a meager salary. Eventually, he discovered the people he was working for were, in fact, small-time smugglers.

He wanted in on their operation, and over the next few years, Darton proved himself a valuable asset to the smuggler trade. Though the operation often went smoothly, an imperial inspection shut them down, and most of the crew, including Darton, found themselves in Imperial prison. Darton only served one year, but during that time he managed to make some inside money by trading spice smuggled into the prison to bored Imperial officers. When he was released, Darton found that smuggling might be just the business for him.

Returning to Ord Mantell, Darton continued working as a junker alongside his parents for another two years, until they uncovered a disused Z-95 in a scrap pile. Instead of selling it, Darton requested he keep it for himself, as he formed a plan for future business ventures. Taking it to a local mechanic, he used up a lot of his earned credits to get the gutted ship functional once again, and specifically requested the inclusion of a secret compartment underneath the ship.

While he and the mechanic continued working on the ship, Darton spent time selling spice to addicts on the streets of Ord Mantell, putting more coin in his pocket. Eventually, the Z-95 was able to run again, and upon firing up, an annoying buzzing noise emanated from the vehicle, as a result of the components that had been moved around to make room for the compartment. The mechanic joked that it sounded like a buzzard, and the name stuck. Continuing his work on the streets and work in the hangar, the Buzzard was soon fully operational and ready to fly (minus the buzzing).

It was in those intervening years that Darton Fanx found his fortune by smuggling small, but high-value items. No Imperial patrol would care about a spacer in an old Z-95, and he avoided their... distaste of smugglers on many an occasion. As he learned more and more about the dangers of smuggling, and getting into a few blaster-fights, Darton became adept at his trade over the years. He began increasingly customizing his ship even more, but the one thing that always remained the same was that little compartment.

After a few deals with some prominent figures, Darton was referred to the Hutt Cartel, who were always looking for more smugglers. He accepted their offer, and began a new chapter of his life. For the Hutts, Darton delivered many small goods - high-priced valuables, numbers of counterfeit credits, high-quality spice, and illegal weaponry. He earned a small fortune smuggling for the Hutts, but sent sizeable portions of his payments back to his parents on Ord Mantell. He continued on this path for years, until he learned of their passing. He grieved briefly, but was contented knowing that they spent their last years living comfortably. After their death, he spent some time gambling, but he found he wasn't very good, and lost a few times to a particular drunk Dug.

Now in his forties, Darton is an experienced smuggler, and a prized member of the Hutt Cartel.

Experiment-200: KILL_OR_BE_KILLED (Always open)

E L I

Eventually, Eli tired, and he stopped running.

He was still in the middle of the road. Exposed. Not a position he'd like to be in. He hadn't checked his phone, but he didn't care much. Survival was paramount here, and a little distraction like that could mean life or death. Better to be alert and aware.

Scanning his surroundings, Eli briefly took in what he could see: apartment-like buildings to his right, and a giant concrete building to his left, past some cornfields.

Cornfields.

The hunter made a snap decision, going off-road and making his way into the cornfields. The corn would make for good cover and an excellent hiding place while he recovered for a bit, and calmed himself.

Wading his way further into the fields, Eli came upon a building, set smack-dab into the middle of the cornfield. An old, wooden building, likely a shed.

Making his way through the last of the corn, Eli made his way in front of the building. It was, indeed, an old shed.

Grasping the handle, Eli peeked inside.

The Parallel Campaign - An Expansive Spacefaring RPG

Well folks, we've got a great addition to the Data Files, including the ships of the Collective fleets, ground vehicles and even illustrations of our aliens! Go check it out!