War on the Horizon

[MarkWarrior]

The Formation of the Confederacy of Independent Systems by Lee Desyk


While there are many who like to claim the formation of the Confederacy began with the Raxus Proclamation, the scholars heavily disagree, with the commonly agreed-upon date being a few months later when Serenno withdrew entirely from the Republic, leaving merely a token embassy and the amount of back-taxes that were owed to the Republic behind.

However, the difficulties arose shortly after following Serenno's withdrawal from the Republic, with hundreds of systems now temporarily vulnerable to pirates and those who would seek to exploit them.

With the Trade Federation and what was left of the Intergalactic Banking Clans pushing to make deals with the worlds that were no longer even somewhat protected by Republic Law.

It is in this turmoil that a group of individuals called for a Council, with representatives from all of the seceded worlds and sectors meeting on Raxus Prime in order to hammer out a provisional government.

Drawing from the failings of the Republic as well as the success of several smaller Sector and Planetary governments, the beginnings of what would be called the Founding Charter of the Confederacy of Independent Systems.

Established in this Charter were what would nowadays be considered the basic Sentients rights. With an outright ban on Slavery and piracy, and establishing the universal laws that every System and Planetary body would be required to enforce locally.

While not a comprehensive document, this basic Charter was able to grant all of the worlds and systems a place of agreement on which to begin discussions on what kind of government they wanted.

They knew that they didn't want to get bogged down with the same bureaucracy and red tape that hamstrung the Republic. Still, there was no agreement on the form of government until a few months after the Charter of the Confederacy had been signed by all of the participating worlds.


What was decided on was at first a loose coalition, bound together by a shared tax percentage and a donation of either food, credits, manpower, or ships to protect the hyperlanes, but as things progressed, the fledgling Confederacy realized that they would need to establish a more firm federal government if they were to ensure that the Corporations and other nations respected their borders and laws.
This of course led to many arguments, and they ended up with a hybrid system that satisfied no one, which of course meant that it was a more efficient system than they had originally intended by sheer accident.

And so, the Confederacy of Independent Systems flag was flown in the Outer Rim, and while their troubles did not disappear overnight, there was now hope for a future that would allow them to be more than they had been under the Republic.

Citations

A History of the Time Before the Galactic Civil War by A'vent T'cha

The Charter of Sentient Rights and other important documents by Rena Minnau

An essay by a middle or high school kid.

 

[MarkWarrior]

The Dress uniform for the Marksman (Or as close as I could get AI to draw it).

Replace the buttons with places for ribbons/medals and a nametag and you're pretty close. Hat is more of a matte black with gold trim, but that's fairly accurate as well. Spurs are for ASF, Mechwarriors, and any Armored Cav units. Everyone else gets nice boots and an insignia indicating which section they work in.

 

[MarkWarrior]

Senatorial Sections: Part 1

Date: 07.11.7975 CRC
Location: Senate Building, Coruscant

“We may be friends and allies here,” Senator Iblis looked around the conference room of his office. “But none of you see what is going to happen shortly. If we do not stand against the tax increases then the entire Republic is in danger.”

“Garm, you know that I am in favor of promoting peace on all sides,” Bail replied. “But with the loss of so many worlds to the Confederacy and the Mandalorian Federation we must find new sources of revenue.”

“The Mid and Outer Rims have been taxed into oblivion,” Garm sighed. “The tariffs will only drive us closer and closer to the failure of our government.”

“What would you have me do?” Mon Mothma asked. “We are the only institution that has stood the test of time and have brought peace and prosperity through the millenia. If we do not institute the tariffs, then we flounder as our bureaucracy slows with the lack of funding.”

“Cut taxes, cut tariffs, and cut spending!” Garm slammed his fist on the table. “You cannot continue to treat the rest of the galaxy as if they are unimportant, because with the loss of access to the Outer Rim’s goods, you’ll find that costs of everything will go up.”

“I care for the plight of the Outer Rim,” Mothma replied. “They have languished for far too long under tyranny.”

“Yes, the Republic’s tyranny,” Garm sagged in his chair. “I know that you value peace Mon, but if you continue down this path, then we will end in disaster. For the Republic and everyone else.”


–
–

“Senator Amidala,” the hologram of Queen Jamillia greeted her with a smile and a nod. “I am glad that you took the time to speak with me.”

“I serve the people of Naboo,” Padme replied. “And I always enjoy speaking with a friend.”

“Unfortunately, it is business that we must speak of instead of as friends,” Jamillia sighed. “The Gungans and local governments have come to a decision.”

A pit seemed to open up in Padme’s stomach as she swallowed and answered.

“And that is?” She asked.

“Naboo will remain in the Republic until Chancellor Palpatine has served out his term,” Jamillia frowned. “Then, if our people still languish under the burden of the excesses of the Core when they previously refused to help us. Then we will secede.”

“They are certain of this?” Padme asked.

“They are,” the queen replied. “And after seeing the data, I have been forced to acquiesce.

“I understand,” Padme replied. “I will do my best to represent our interests until my time to serve is completed.”

“Both you and Representative Binks are the voices of our people to the Republic and the Galaxy, I have faith that you will do that to the best of your ability.”

With that, the hologram winked out, leaving Padme to consider the news and how to move on from here.

Sitting back down, she lifted her datapad and glanced at her highlighted notes.

The Republic was once again heading into war. Only this time, they didn’t even have the same excuses from the Mandalorian Wars. The Republic had no military, only industry and planetary defense forces. The Judicial branch was hamstrung at every turn, and despite her best efforts, the people of the Republic suffered under the burden of excess taxes. All in the pursuit of the luxury that the Core offered.

She now understood why the Eriadu had sold their senator’s holdings in the 500 Republica and forced their senators and representatives to live in standard housing. It was all too easy to forget how other people lived when you towered above them.

With that thought passing through her mind, she stood and made her way to the wardrobe. Stripping off her usual clothing and replacing it with a worn, roughspun tunic and cloak, a holdout blaster tucked behind her right hip.

Sometimes she needed to see, to remember exactly what it was that she was trying to accomplish, who precisely she was fighting for the rights of. Those people were not up here in the clouds and high towers of Coruscant.

---

Date: 15.11.7975 CRC (Coruscant Reckoning Calendar)

“We must begin sending aid to the Yards of Kuat and other Core manufacturers,” Risi Lenoan’s seat floated around the Senate Chambers. “The Outer Rim’s shipyards are beginning to take business from us, and as our yards flounder, so does the economy of our region and of those around us.”


“Kriffing idiots,” Garm Bel Iblis muttered as he watched the proceedings. “Competition is what we need here, not to spend more government money on projects that will only fail. It’s just basic economics.”

But he could see the sheer number of people who agreed with the initial proposal and knew that it was likely going to be pushed through.

“We now recognize the Senator from Rendili!” Mas Amedda’s voice echoed through the chambers.

“Rendili believes that such a radical spending bill would be a gross misallocation of government resources,” Dominic Starr’s voice was calm. “The markets should be allowed to regulate themselves without government interference. All we will do with such spending is cause our own people to suffer. Both here in the Core as well as elsewhere.”

“You only say this because Rendili profits directly from the Confederacy of Independent Systems!” The Trade Federation delegate protested. “Should we also get into your ties directly to pirate groups like the Marksman or the so called “Executive Security Solutions”.”

“Order, we will have order!” Amedda broke them off. “We now recognize the Senator from Corellia.”

“People of the Republic,” Garm stood and began to speak. “We face dark times ahead of us. There are a few choices before us, but we must make the right ones, lest we plunge our great nation into darkness. Ahead of us, lie two paths. One in which we allow our economy and the markets to do as they will, for them to self-regulate. The other is one where we involve ourselves in that which we know little about. Where we dictate to those who run our economy how things will go. I, for one, have been a successful businessman in the past. But I make no pretense of knowing exactly how things will go should we fund either option.”

He paused, the senate floor hanging in silence.

“However, there is one thing that I do know. Our own bureaucracy is bloated, we consume taxes and tariffs with little to no results to show for it. We should be cutting back our own spending, cutting those taxes that burden our people and finding other ways to ensure that all of our people’s flourish. This bill, though,” Garm slammed his fist into his podium,. “Is a poison pill that is coated in stimulants. It will no doubt boost things for a time, but in the end will kill us. But we have heard enough talk today. Now let us vote, and see if this is indeed our poison, or if it is something else that will kill us.”

With that, he sat down and watched as the voting began, his speech had swayed more than he suspected it would, but it was not enough. As Garm stood to leave, he glanced back at the voting lights one last time and felt an intense sadness come over him as both Alderaan’s and Chandrilla’s voting lights shifted in favor of the spending bill.



Author’s Note: So, I can put these in the Sidestory threadmarks or the main channel threadmarks. Where do y’all think they should go? I’m torn between the two because they impact so much of the main thread and what’s happening there.

 

[MarkWarrior]

A Young Man’s Game

“Lieutenant, please hail that freighter and have them stand by for inspection,” Captain Jerdan Falkner ordered.

“Aye sir, initiating communications,” the lieutenant replied, his face set with professionalism.

“Independent freighter Dancing Gamorrean please slow down and prepare for a routine inspection,” The junior officer ordered.

“Understood, slowing down and awaiting boarding,” the response came.

“Good,” Captain Falkner nodded. “Lieutenant, walk with me.”

The Comms officer stood and allowed an ensign to relieve him of his post before joining Falkner as they made their way to the Airlocks.

“I like you, Gilad,” Falkner spoke as the viewport showed the freighter slowly growing larger. “And I think you’ll go far in the Judicial Forces, but you lack something that will help you rise.”

“What might that be, Sir?” Pellaeon asked.

“You’re not as flexible as the admiralty would like,” Falkner sighed. “I hate it, but once you become a Captain, it’s no longer about performing your job to the best of your abilities. No, it’s about political games and making sure that you have the favor of the right senators.”

“Captain, I don’t think we’re that far gone yet,” the younger man replied. “We’re doing our job and ensuring that those sworn to the Republic are kept as safe as possible.”

“Were it so easy,” Falkner muttered as the two ships docked, the airlocks joining together as the Judicial Marines and enlisted moved to prepare for the inspection.

The Airlock hissed open and revealed a handful of cargo droids and a lone human in a grease stained spacer’s uniform.

“I’d give you a proper welcome,” the spacer chewed on some substance.. “But I ain’t got much to my name here.”

“Trying to cut costs?” Pellaeon looked at the droids.

“Aye,” the tired and filthy man sighed. “I used to run a route from Eriadu to Raxus. But now I’m restricted to struggling against bulk freight from the Core to the Mid Rim.”

“We’re just checking to make sure there aren’t any reactor leaks or hazardous materials out in the open,” Captain Falkner explained. “We noticed an odd signature and wanted to ensure that everything was alright.”

“I had a coolant leak that I just patched,” the man gestured to his filthy clothes. “The kriffing pipe seal burst because one of these hunks of metal didn’t triple check the torque.”

“We can afford to lend you a few spare parts if it’ll help you on your way,” Falkner smiled. “But I think we’ll let you be on your way.”

“Well, that’s a relief,” the man sagged. “I was worried I’d done something wrong.”

“We’re here to help serve people,” Falkner smiled. “Now, I’m going to let the smuggling of class III electronics slide here if you promise to get that engine checked out properly at your next destination.”

“How’d you- Yes sir,” The spacer started and then stopped as he realized he’d been caught. “

“Cargoman!” Falkner waved over one of the Judicial personnel. “See to it that we hand over some of our spare sealants, to this gentlebeing,” Turning to the rest of the forces he whistled and gave commands for them to begin leaving.

“Why did we allow him to continue on his way?” Pellaeon asked after they’d arrived back on the Ascent.

“There’s a thing in local policing on many worlds,” the Captain paused and looked out the viewport. “It’s called officer discretion. There is a time and place to enforce all of the laws and regulations. If he had been belligerent or hostile, then I would have impounded his freighter and ensured that he spent time in prison. But not all cases are the same; he’s obviously nearly at the breaking point. As you pointed out, it’s our job to serve and protect the people of the Republic. Not to make them enemies or the bad guys. Besides, I can all but guarantee that this man won’t smuggle again.”

The captain finished his explanation and the conjoined ships began to shake, the sound of blaster fire filling the airlocks and corridors.

“Kriff,” the captain drew his blaster and headed back towards the Dancing Gamorrean, his protege right behind him.

The spacer’s corpse lay smoking and blaster fire filled the air as the droids raised both regular blaster pistols and an oddly shaped one.

The Judicial Marines returned fire, taking cover behind a few crates and slowly working their way forward, a few of them being wounded and dragged back to the airlock.

Pellaeon’s heart thundered in his chest as he drove into a dividing wall, his blaster pistol kicking slightly as one of his bolts sheared off the head of one of the droids.

He poked his head out and pulled it back in time just as a bolt flew where his head had been.

Switching hands, he moved to another portion of the wall and stuck his hand out, his and a Marine’s blaster bolts striking true and lessening the return fire.

The Marines, sensing the right moment pushed up and rushed the droids, finishing them off and signaling that the cargo bay was clear.

“What in the Corellian Nine Hells was that?!” A marine kicked at the droid. “I’ve never seen a malfunction like that.”

“I don’t think it was a malfunction,” Gilad crouched and began to go over the droids for identifying markers.

“Then who was it?” Falkner joined them. “The Confederacy?”

“Doesn’t look like it,” Pellaeon found a mark on the arm. “I don’t recognize this manufacturing mark. It doesn’t look like anything from the Core, Mid Rim, or Outer Rim that I’m familiar with.”

“Start combing through the ship,” Falkner crouched down and looked at the symbol. “I’m going to have to reach out to some of my buddies in RI. They might have some sort of intelligence for me.”

“Too bad he’s dead,” A marine gestured to the spacer. “It’d be easier to ask him where he bought the droids than it’ll be to track them down now.”

“I’ll start taking scans of the evidence here,” Gilad responded. “I’d hate for any of it to disappear because some senator’s trying to cover something up.”

“Bag and secure one of those blasters too,” the Captain ordered. “I have a feeling that we’ve stumbled upon something that we weren’t supposed to. So, we’re going to be doctoring this. Report it as a malfunction and set the ship to drift away while we track down these leads.”

“And his family?” Pellaeon asked, jutting his chin out towards the spacer.

“I’ll make sure they’re taken care of. It’ll be the least I can do.”

 

[MarkWarrior]

Date: 19.11.7975 CRC
Location: Christophsis, Outer Rim Territories, Republic

“Hey Soont, next round’s on me!” the Korkoiden gestured to the group of humans and aliens at the table.

“You got it,” the barkeep nodded and sent another round of drinks towards the table.

“So, you think we’re gonna leave the Republic and join the CIS?” Bix asked, leaning back in his chair as he sipped his ale.

“I don’t care,” Runa shrugged. “Long as I get paid for the crystals I mine, then that’s all I care about.”

“I guess,” Bix agreed. “But you get the feeling we’re stuck in the middle here?”

“We are stuck in the middle,” Runa shook with laughter, his reptilian snout bared in a fanged grin. “We’ve got one of the most sought-after resources in the galaxy. It doesn’t matter which side we go to. When it breaks into war, we’ll be right in the middle of it.”

“I dunno,” Mar looked into his glass as he swirled the ice cubes. “Way I see it, the Confederacy’s likely to leave us alone as long as we declare neutrality. The Republic won’t do anything, though. They’ve left Bakura and that whole sector of the Galaxy to themselves.”

“Aye,” Bix raised his glass and drained it. “It’s as if the galaxy is already in the Nine Hells and we’re just now waiting to find out about it.”

“The Galaxy’s the same as it ever was,” Runa sighed. “This ain’t the first time we’ve had troubles, and it won’t be the last. Just keep mining our crystals and squaring away until retirement and we’ll be fine.”

“I hope you’re right, Runa,” Bix finished his ale and set the mug down. “Because if you’re wrong, then my kids will pay the price.”

“I’m thinking of cashing out,” Mar leaned forward, stopping Bix from standing up. “My brother’s got a house on Beloria, and they’re opening up the factories to new workers all the time. I reckon that’s one of the safest places in the galaxy now.”

“Weren’t they attacked by the Trade Federation?” Bix asked. “How’s that one of the safest?”

“My brother and the rest of the city were evacuated and kept safe,” Mar tossed his liquor back. “And the Marksman have had a reinforced fleet in orbit ever since. It’d take a massive amount of firepower to crack them and the planetary shields.”

“I wouldn’t trust that bunch of pirates as far as I could throw one of their combat droids,” Runa signaled for a refill. “They’re a petty dictatorship that runs the whole system by now. I doubt they’re trustworthy.”

“They’re trustworthy enough that Dooku trusts them,” Mar retorted. “And he was a Jedi.”

“I trust death sticks more than I’ll ever trust a Jedi,” the Rodian scoffed. “At least I know the death sticks intend to kill me. I’d just be collateral damage to a Jedi.”

“I think I’ll just keep my head down,” Bix broke the argument with his slow words. “Work the mines until something happens, and then make a decision. Ain’t worth stressing over it much now.”

“Each to their own,” Mar agreed, standing up and swaying before catching himself and standing straight. “I’m goin’ home. Y’all can make your own decisions.”

---

Date: 24.11.7975 CRC
Location: Independent Freighter Bedazzled

“Where we headed, Cap’n?” the navigator asked.

“Kashyyk, we’ll pick up some high-grade electronics and then head to Dac, offload our electronics, and pick up spare parts for various ships. We’ll decide on the rest of the route then.”

“It might be worth stopping by Mandalore and some of the other sectors before going wide through to Bakura,” the navigator offered. “War’s bloody business, but it’s profitable if you manage it right.”

“I’ll think about it,” Captain Berand stroked his chin. “It’ll depend on how the conflict begins to spread. It’s been millennia since the Republic faced such a threat, and I’d rather my ship not be seized and used for logistics.”

“Your call, cap,” the navigator shrugged. “Just tell me where to go, and I’ll take care of it.”

“Kashyyk, and then we’ll figure out where to go next.