Fiction Gallery

Aliso System, Aliso City Landsdown Docks, Bay 20 The small ID10 seeker droid rested on a tool cart, its matte black body trying to pass as someone’s forgotten holotape. The alarm klaxon howled through Landsdown, distant blaster fire and shouted orders weaving into the siren’s metallic wail. The entire dock complex vibrated like a struck tuning fork, every bulkhead humming with panic and hurried evacuation. Somewhere far below, a cargo lifter screamed as its repulsors overloaded, the sound swallowed by the cavernous dockyard like thunder trapped in a metal canyon. The droid activated without ceremony. Its tiny repulsor hummed as it lifted from the cart and drifted upward, gliding toward a recessed shadow in the wall. A single red photoreceptor burned to life, scanning the bay. A Belbullab-22 sat mid-repair, its pilot long gone. Power cables trailed from its open fuselage like exposed nerves, swaying gently from the power currents. A dropped hydrospanner rolled across the floor, tapping softly against durasteel as if counting seconds. The droid slipped into the maze of ceiling corridors that spiderwebbed through Landsdown, pausing only when beings sprinted beneath it. Every movement was measured. Every pause was calculated. Boots hammered against the floor in chaotic rhythms, some heavy with armor, others light with fear. Voices echoed and overlapped, clipped orders dissolving into frantic questions. The ceiling ducts smelled faintly of ozone and coolant leaks, a familiar perfume of industry and impending disaster. Its directive was simple: document every ship currently docked in Landsdown. Bay 21 stood empty. Bay 22 did not. The droid hovered silently and zoomed in on a Star Courier resting in the docking cradle. It captured the vessel from every angle and transmitted the data in a tight encrypted burst to the Eternal Order database. The transmission lasted less than a breath, disguised within the background chatter of emergency comms. No alarms detected. No sensors complained. The message slipped into the galaxy like a rumor whispered into a crowded room.

Task complete. Move on.

Bay 23 opened into chaos. A Firespray gunship sat on the durasteel floor, surrounded by scattered tools and half-disassembled components. Overhead lights flickered in uneven pulses, painting the ship in alternating bands of harsh white and shadow. Steam hissed from a ruptured conduit, drifting across the bay like stage fog for a performance nobody wanted to attend. Two DUM-series pit droids darted in frantic circles, grabbing parts with frantic enthusiasm that suggested urgency and zero planning. Beneath them, a pair of MSE-6 mouse droids squealed as they scurried between boots and crates, broadcasting alarm signals to anyone willing to listen. From a side corridor, a K-Series security droid lumbered into view, a repeating blaster already braced in one hand while the other seized a second weapon from a rack. The heavy droid’s footsteps landed like falling anvils, each impact sending faint tremors through the plating beneath the Firespray. The seeker droid drifted forward and settled lightly onto the Firespray’s hull. A micro-slicer extended toward an access panel. The hull radiated stored heat, a fading memory of recent flight. Beneath the plating, fuel pumps ticked as they cooled, each sound a mechanical heartbeat slowing after a sprint. The droid’s optic narrowed, prioritizing data pathways and entry points with surgical indifference. A sudden electronic gargle shattered the moment. The droid’s photoreceptor snapped upward just in time to focus on a charging buzz droid, its spinning saw screaming toward the tiny spy. Then the seekers' signal vanished.

Kalen's Unending Curse

As Kalen and Corra and the gang hard docked with the Corra VI in orbit above Aliso, the situation on the surface and around the system itself was still tense, and the size scale and scope of the attack they were under Ingram was still developing moment by moment. Terrorist attacks, sabotage, riots, a space ambush, things were bad. 

The ship had been left in orbit on autopilot, with only 2 Ugnaughts (a gunner, and their mechanic) and a few maintenance droids aboard.The Jedi led the group out of the commuter shuttle and through the airlock, he told Corra and D-3PO that they could set themselves up in the Captain cabin, and told the Ugnaughts that they could set themselves up in the lounge and the lower deck. The Ascendant Outreach Corps commander then hurriedly to the bridge and started to get the ship ready to leave orbit. It had been a few months, so he had to quickly refamiliarize himself with the controls, but it was still HIS ship after all.

He heard the sound of 2 sets of rapid scurrying boots approaching the open entryway at the rear of the bridge, and he turned to see 2 of the original crop of Ugnaught contractors he had hired to help man his precious ship, the Corra V.

“Mikdill, Mikbeel, good, the systems under attack, we gotta get the ship ready to move, and quickly. Get the fire control unit and the weapons online. Mikbeel, spool up the engines. I'm going to take us to rendezvous with the Bright Light, see if we can help out in any way.” The 41 year old greying(in more ways then 1) Jedi

The two Ugnaughts nodded in acknowledgement and then scurried away to get about making the ship ready to fly, and if necessary, fight.

“Alright, airlock seated, main power online, back-up power…online, thank you Mikbeel. Deflectors on standby, comms are good, life support in the green. Okay lets get us moving.” Kalen was flicking switched and turning nobs before he grabbed a hold of the yoke.

“Corra VI, to Aliso orbital control, requesting departure clearance, this a priority 1 situation, by order of the Ascendant Navy.” He said into the comms. He was straining credulity a bit, but after all, he was a part of the Ascendant Military hierarchy and knew no one would bat an eyepash at the request.

“Corra VI, you are cleared for departure. Keep your eyes and ears open, its getting hectic all over the system.” Came the reply.

“Confirmed Aliso Control. Corra VI departing for the outer system.” Kalen swung the ship around and increased power to the engines, and within a few seconds they had broken orbit, and were on their way to Trecurus and the Hellas Fleet Yards that were reportedly in a shambolic state since the recent attack.

Not more then 30 seconds later, as Kalen was about to let the autopilot take over for the short half hour sublight cruise when a bright flash of light and a tremendous explosion erupted right against the side of the Corra VIs starboard fore-wing, knocking out power on the vessel, destroying the dual laser cannon that had been mounted on the wing, and blowing a 2 meter by 3 meter hole in the outer hull.

They had just struck a mine. A stealth mine that had been secretly deployed by the unknown attackers before they had departed.

“Oh come on now! You have got to fracking kidding me, sithspit Mother…” Kalen let loose with a string of profanities.

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WHEN IT HITS THE FAN

By Kalen Joss

Lieutenant Commander Sarvo Tud, the Twi'lek Executive Officer of the Bright Light had to have his comms officer confirm the message for him a second time. He struggled to fathom how an enemy strike force could have penetrated the heart of the Plagueian military without anyone noticing.

“Transponders from at least 3 capital ships of the First Mobile Fleet have gone dark sir.” The senior Intel officer added as he stared at the system plot.

The bridge got uncomfortably quiet for several seconds. They were half way in-between Trecurus and Congrion, with barely half the crew aboard. It was supposed to be a quick shakedown trip to test out the new sets of RCS thrusters that had been installed a few days before. But what they had been doing didn't matter any more, what they were going to do was the primary concern now.

“All hands to battle stations. Helm bring us about, and make best speed back to Hellas.” Tud slapped his armrest comm and opened the intercom to the hangar bay.

“We have an emergency situation. The Fleet Yards are currently under attack by an unknown fleet, all pilots man your birds. SCRAMBLE. I say again scramble. Head to Hellas, full afterburners. You are authorized to disregard all local flight restrictions and regulations. Move people!” Tud closed the channel. The A-Wings were the fastest ships in the Ascendant Navy, and they'd be able to make it back to Trecurus in about 10 minutes if they kept their throttles pinned to the firewalls. He looked up at the combat plot and did a quick calculation in his head, the Bright Light was quick as far as frigates went, but they'd still be about a half hour behind Angel Squadron.

“Charge weapons, reflectors to full. Shunt all auxiliary power to the engines.” The old veteran shouted as the quiet of a moment before had given way to the din of a combat vessel at battle stations heading into a fight.

((Aliso, North Creek subdivision))

“What? Under attack by who?” Kalen exclaimed into his commlink.

“No one knows sir.” Replied the duty officer who had called him, and presumably every other member of the senior leadership, from the Pinnacle.

“Sithspawn. Understood.” The Jedi cursed as he turned off his comm.

A few seconds later a massive explosion occurred right in the direction that Kalen had been looking. It appeared to come from the water treatment plant a mile away. Then he heard a second explosion and he saw its fireball shoot into the sky on the other side of the city.

“Babe, what's going on? Was that a bomb that just went off” Corra asked as she came out of the house, followed by D-3PO who seemed even more nervous than usual.

“I don't know hun. Our shipyards are under attack right now…I gotta go…” Kalen half turned as he was about to head over to the Star Commuter and head up to the Corra VI which was parked in orbit.

He stopped himself. What was he thinking?He wasn't going to leave his pregnant fiance here alone with the goldenrod droid when there were bombs exploding all over the city.

“Grab the black bag from under our bed and get on the shuttle hun. D, go get the Ugnaughts from the orcha…nevermind you're slower then a geriatric Hutt, just lock the house behind Corra and get on the shuttle too. I'll go get the Ugnaughts.” Kalen headed off in a full sprint towards the peach orchard.

Manually added by Professional Nildea Vidh

Manually added by Professional Nildea Vidh

Manually added by Lord Idris Adenn

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Ventressian Guard

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Ventressian Guard

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Ventressian Guard

To whom it may concern,

I recently bought a “brand new” Military Bridge Assembly for my Corvette project, and the device came in broken crates and missing parts. The console had large gashes and large dents. It’s it fell from the shelf and was shipped on the front of the ship so it would hit every single rock in the galaxy. I spent over 2 days trying to get a hold of customer service, only to be ignored and then told the part wasn’t under warranty, and I had to pay for a new part to be delivered.

Is this how you operate? I'd rather deal with the hutts. Their prices might be higher, but at least I know I’m getting quality parts!

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S1C4 RP - Force Rangers Remalia Manvar "Aequitas" Anderson Xantros Turel Sorenn

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S1C4 RP - Force Rangers Remalia Manvar "Aequitas" Anderson Xantros Turel Sorenn

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S1C4 RP - Force Rangers Remalia Manvar "Aequitas" Anderson Xantros Turel Sorenn

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S1C4 RP - Force Rangers Remalia Manvar "Aequitas" Anderson Xantros Turel Sorenn

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