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Corask Slen'da

Joined: 30 May 2010
Posts: 86

 Post Posted: Sun, October 31st 2010 10:40pm    Post subject: Junkfort System, Tharin Sector
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Junkfort Station, Tharin Sector


Celebratus Archive Repository
Entry No. (38919-3823-12003)

Junkfort Station, Junkfort System, Tharin Sector (Grid T-8, 4.180.10) Established c. 2000 BBY as a trading outpost. Progessive expansion into major transportation and trading hub. Most galactic technologies and accomodations for all types of sentients available.

Associated with political government of Junkfort II. Current political alignment is Independent\Neutral. Offices of most regional and galactic economic and political organizations are present.

Stands upon the Triellus Trade Route (see Hutt's Highway) and the Cadma Conduit, primary hyperlane to The Centrality.

Junkfort Station houses inhabitants from across the Galaxy. Relations between Junkfort natives and galactic citizenry are harmonious.

Last edited by Corask Slen'da on Sun, October 31st 2010 10:41pm; edited 1 time in total
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Corask Slen'da

Joined: 30 May 2010
Posts: 86

 Post Posted: Sun, October 31st 2010 11:17pm    Post subject: Beginning of the End Pt II
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Junkfort Station

"Exiting lightspeed now" Slen'da spoke into the comm, and pushed the lever forward. The blue tunnel of hyperspace dissolved into thousands of white lines, which shorted into the powered diamonds of deep space.

Spread out before them was Junkfort Station, the major trading port in this region of space. Already hundreds of ships were streaming in or out of the Station's various docking collars, ports, or anchorages, with tugs, courier vessels and insystem shuttles moving between the various liners, freighters and the terminals, wings, cargo bays and accomodation ports of the station.

Orbiting in and out of the incoming and outgoing vectors were the ships of the Junkfort Port Authority, the nearest thing to a constabulary in this system.

The calm voice of a system control droid broke in on the general frequency.

"This is the Junkfort Port Authority. Please transmit your identification, purpose of visit, and manifest."

Corask sent the files and responded verbally. "I am Corask Slen'da of the Jedi Order, Dr. Brandt of the Obroan Research Institute, and an escort from the Obroan Security Force. We have no cargo to declare, only the need to use the station's long-range communications equipment."

After several moments, the droid controller responded is it's calm, deep cadence.

"Welcome, Jedi. Your berth is Docking Platform 18B. Daily docking fee is 30 credits. Please use the approved flightpath transmitted. You will submit to a customs scan and a host droid will be availabe should you require it's services. Enjoy your stay at Junkfort Station." As the comm went dead, the secondary flatscreen displayed the path to the docking berth.

As they landed, the lead scientist turned to the other two.

"Sergeant, stay here and look after the preparations for our journey to the Core. The Jedi and I will go to the comm centre alone.

* * *

The duo drifted through the crowds of Junkport. Species and droid from all points of the galaxy could be seen here. Merchants hawked their wares, and lights and posters described various goods and services. They passed by a Gotal cantina, with many of the horned sentients in attendance. Several of them turned to stare at the Bothan as he walked by. Even the preoccupied Brandt noticed the length and depth of the stares.

The Bothan ruffled his fur to show calmness. "Many of the Rim's inhabitants have never seen a Jedi before."

"Do you think their intent is hostile?" As is usual with a Bothan, the movement of his fur predicted his response. In this case, it showed a negative.

"The Gotals are a species that can detect the energies and emotions of others through their horns. They can tell I have a deeper connection with the Force."

More of the vast array of denziens of the Rim and the Galaxy passed them by. Brandt and the Bothan idly remarked to each other the species, a game they long played. Most of the common Galactic types were present, Sullustans, Wookies, Ithorians, Neimoidians, Rhodians, Verpine, Mon Calamari, and even a young Hutt moving under his own power with his escorts ahead and his retinue behind. There were also a fair sample of peoples from the remote quadrants of the outer Rim. Toydorians, Lurrians, Gamorreans, Akurians, Geonosians, Tammarians, and ones that neither Brandt nor Slen'da could identify. And of course all types of Humans of all pigmentations and dress from a thousand worlds.

Brandt also noted the decore. "Hmf, this is a filthy place. Could we not have found a more.. civilized establishment?"

Slen'da privately agreed "Now my friend, you know the importance of our mission. We could have moved more toward the Core, but at the risk of losing contact with our friends."

Brandt huffed again at the gentle reproval, but knew Slen'da meant no offence. "Indeed."

As they entered the Long Range Relay Centre, the Obroan scientist fairly danced in his anxiety. Slen'da looked at him, with both the eyes of a friend and with the experience of a long professional association. He revealed his fore canines to mimic the Human expression of smile.

"Be at ease, my friend. Undoubtedly things are as planned."

Brandt, knowing that Bothans did not smile in the way Humans did, appreciated the gesture and the attempt. They moved in.

In front of them stood the banks of the communications center. Several merchants and other types waited in front of them, eager to share the economic news or transmit information of the Rim to their superiors in the core. Each communications booth had it's own transmitter channel, and a privacy shield. The sounds of muted conversations still echoed throughout the large hall, as droid servants and sentient technicians roamed the isle.

"This news could not wait, and this is the farthest we could travel without losing direct contact with Sletros and the final stages of the dig. In any case, we must check in with Sletros and the others before we continue on, even if he is not ready."

Before long, a service droid showed them to their own communications booth, complete with privacy to prevent eavesdroppers.

Activating it, Dr. Brandt quickly entered the frequencies for the Rafa V site.

Prologue I - The Beginning of the End First Previous Next Latest

Last edited by Corask Slen'da on Sun, November 14th 2010 03:20pm; edited 2 times in total
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Corask Slen'da

Joined: 30 May 2010
Posts: 86

 Post Posted: Tue, November 02nd 2010 07:48pm    Post subject: Prologue I - The Beginning of the End Pt III
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Junkfort Station, Junkfort System

Public Communications Room

The two sat, and the privacy bubble descended from the ceiling to encapsulate the booth. Although someone is tapped in, undoubtedly. Slen'da thought. It was a risk to use the public booths with sensitive information, but Slen'da thought it unlikely the news from a remote archeological study would garner much interest from an infochant.

The flatscreen scrolled a command request. ENTER FREQUENCY AND CREDITS

Slen'da dialed in the codes, and paid the advance fee in Republic script. Although a neutral station, Junkfort accepted Republic credit because of the sheer volume of trade that passed in and out of the Republic borderworlds. After a few moments, the frequency found a station, and a protocol droid appeared in the holodisplay. A familiar voice responded.

"Greetings sentients, welcome to the Obroan Research Institute Rafa Five Branch. How-"

"C-4PA, this Brandt and Slen'da."

"Greetings, Masters. I will redirect your signal to Dr. Sletross." A short moment, later, the head of the archeological dig appeared. He looked even more tired, and even more elated than how he appeared.

"Excellent timing, Dr. Brandt. We are about to uncover the Caverns of The Mindharp. To introduce a lost technology back to the galactic community is surely the highpoint of any xenoarcheologist's career. The Institute and the Republic will immediately agree that this research must be continued! This is a great day for our science." Sletross looked to his side, confirmed something. "We will being to transmit the signal."

Sletros's figure was replaced by a look at the dig site. On the secondary flatscreen, the seismigraphic display showed that each of the many caverns below joined and radiated from this one entry point.

The last of the excavator droids scooped the last bits of soil from the portal. Around it, eager to begin, a large team of researchers stood with tools ready to break the seal and enter the long lost Mindharp Caverns.

Suddenly, the signal began to fuzz and flicker. All three projections began to look focus and dissolve. Alarmed, Slen'da and Brandt leaned forward and began to reconnect. But the difficulty was not on their end.

Slettros did not look alarmed, but looked to the side again.

"It appears-" With a snaphiss and a crackle, the holoprojectors went dead.

"What happened!" exclaimed Brandt.

Concerned, Slen'da began probing the comm bank's computer.

The machine spit out a datachip as their reciept.

"Why??" Brandt continued, expaserated and slightly frantic.


Brandt continued to work the machine, but Slen'da sat back, feeling deeply at unease.


Prologue I - The Beginning of the End First Previous Next Latest

Last edited by Corask Slen'da on Fri, May 13th 2011 01:43pm; edited 3 times in total
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Cragus 12

Joined: 30 May 2010
Posts: 20

 Post Posted: Tue, March 15th 2011 07:38pm    Post subject: Strange Bedfellows
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Deep Space, Junkfort System

The Claw floated in space, a speck among any solar system's endless debris. It seemed lifeless, although experienced spacers would recognize it was not a wreck; merely powered down.

Cragus 12 sat in a position that nearly naked for him. Legs folded beneath him, and clad solely in his black bodyglove, the cyborg had his equipment, armoured and many of his detachable cybernetics arrayed in a semi-circle around him. One by one, he picked up, examined and cleaned each part. Nearby, his droid GX-99 had opened up a sheild power converter and was performing maintenance.

In a manner, the overhaul of both his personal equipment and the ship was cathartic. It cleared the mind of deathmarks, the stink of destroyed worlds, the ashes of ruined cities, the arrogance jumped-up little Centran officials, the blind hate of the Renatasian guerrilla, the opportunistic bounty hunters he'd just killed, and other memories he'd accrude over the last few weeks.

The smell of ozone kept intruding on his thoughts, however; it still present in the ship's atmosphere as the air recyclers were shut off on the powered-down ship. The ozone was mostly from the last salvo of blasterfire he'd directed at his pursuers from the Claw's landing ramp as he fled Junkfort Station.

The bounty hunters must have been hoping for a quick score; hoping too that their quarry hadn't yet heard there was a bounty out on his life and wasn't prepared. But Cragus 12 had heard; and was prepared, and he was barely out of his rented docking platform when he had killed them both, and quickly. Station Security was not far behind them, however, and he burnt more than a few holes in the station on his way out. Amidst blaring orders to halt and surrender and blaster bolts, he had blasted off of the station and fled into the depths of the system. So Cragus sat in his darkened ship, silently cleaning his equipment.

In truth, Cragus 12 was considering his options. He had a limited future in this sector of space. The New Republic and the Centrality had credit rewards for his arrest; and Lord Looba and the Renatasians had even higher bounties out for his head, dead or alive. So with every major galactic body in this part of the Galaxy looking for him, he had few options. He had the proper fake transponders, but Kazellis Light Freighters were rare and subsequently easy to trace. He didn't have enough fuel to get to the Borderlands with the Empire; nor to the Mid-Rim holdings of the Galactic Union. Hutt Space would be foolhardy; equally dangerous would be the shadowport network Would he have to flee to a backwater like Tatooine or a dozen places like it? Or turn pirate? Take a chance on the Tion Expanses and make a run to the Corporate Sector? He might just have to.

As he contemplated his fate, the droid GX-99 straightened up from his own ship's maintenance and burbled a communication at the cyborg. The ship's computer was receiving a HoloNet message. He replaced the visored helmet on his head and moved to the cockpit. He sat in the pilot's chair and dialed up the connection.

On his holoprojector, a man appeared. He wore black pants and boots, with a light blue tunic and deep red half cape. His spauldrons bore some insignia, indecipherable at this resolution, but Cragus 12 did not need those clues to identify his caller. The hologram looked up at him, and smiled his most famous smile.

"Cragus 12!"

"Baron Calrissian."

"It has been a loong time. You look like you haven't aged a day." As most people haven't seen Cragus 12 outside his armour in decades, Cragus ignored Calrissian's irony.

"You have."

"I only have gotten better with age," Calrissian smiled deprecatingly. "And better-off." Cragus 12 sat impassive, waiting for the genial Socorran to get to his pitch. There always was. And Calrissian got right to it.

"A mutual.. friend of ours said he owed you credits. Some sort of gambling debt. And considering the bounty out on your head, he thought it would best come from someone you've had business with before.


"Yes, but he did warn me to tell you that it wasn't as much as he thought it would come to. But, as it happens, I need the services of someone just like you. A hunter who knows how the Galaxy really works. I have a bounty; but it comes with conditions."

Under his chrome helmet, Cragus was intrigued. Sometimes the Galaxy worked in incomprehensible ways.

"And the condition?"

Calrissian's eyes glittered.

"You'd be taking along a Jedi Knight."

Strange Bedfellows First Previous Next Latest

Last edited by Cragus 12 on Fri, May 13th 2011 02:01pm; edited 3 times in total
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