To continue on with our roleplay show off, below are the copies of our RP lore for the Corellian and Hutt Cartel factions. All these wonderful written pieces were created by DarkForce!
An Excerpt from the Trader's Handbook:
When I was just a kid, my mother doled out droves of unsolicited advice. Most of it was typical maternal fare: 'Blue milk does a body good. Stay away from bantha poodoo. The droids need to be oiled once a week or their servos start to degrade.'
It's the type of advice you pay no attention to, but won't ever forget.
Still, like I said, she had a real penchant for advice, especially when it came to race relations. As a trader plying the hyperlanes, one thing is for certain: you need to know your manners. Dealing with other cultures is a necessity in the trading game, which brings me to the Corellians.
In regards to our brash, luck-driven galactic brethren, Mom had two very important points to make:
One: Never tell a Corellian the odds of success. Their sense of pride is as important to them as their own head.
Two: ALWAYS assume they have a trick up their sleeve. Whether it's in business, combat or politics, there's more to every Corellian than meets the eye.
Corellians, well, they're as loyal to their friendships as they are to their grudges. It's hard to find better friends or worse enemies. So remember, if you're the kind of trader who conducts less than reputable business and you're in Corellian space, heed your mother's advice: "Be on your best behavior!"
Or you won't be invited back over to play.
If you're entering Corellian space for the first time, you may notice some things you aren't quite used to. For instance, there's not an Imperial or New Republic customs vessel within at least several light years of here. If you find yourself asking why, the answer is simple: Corellia answers to no one but itself.
Corellians aren't always easy to understand, we know. After all, the layout of our solar system practically defies logic. Our star is home to not one, but three intelligent species: Humans, Selonians and the Drall. Two of our planets share a tandem orbit, held together by Centerpoint Station, an ancient device of alien origin. We would tell you all our secrets now, but then you'd have no incentive to get to know us better.
It's that uniqueness which drives our thirst for independence, a trait that has served us well throughout our history. Or perhaps it is our history that's proven how important our independence truly is. Ah, but to truly understand that, one must first indulge in a brief bit of education.
As you travel, you'll undoubtedly learn more about Corellia's past, but to begin, the past few decades are a perfect example:
Aside from its lust for freedom, Corellia is well known for its pilots, engineering, shipbuilding, bustling trade ports, and its strong dislike of odds and probability. Other galactic powers, like the Old Republic, Empire and now the New Republic, have found that our attitudes and talents make exerting control over Corellia a dubious pursuit.
We are a people in flux, our society is always changing, moving forward. Our government has shifted back and forth over the centuries, moving from monarch to monarch, then to democracy and perhaps back again a few times over. Yet for the last several decades, democracy has served us well, in the form of the Diktat. Its commerce friendly policies have ensured steady trade, a resilient economy, and kept us largely out of the galaxy's conflicts.
Though we were members of the Old Republic, Corellia's membership was borne out of mutual economic benefit. The Republic was a cumbersome, time-wasting entity, far too concerned with interfering in the affairs of sovereign nations. What business was it of theirs to deny the Sepratists their right to independence? They were afraid of the dire economic repercussions, or so they said. The truth is, the Republic refused to find new markets, diversify its industries, or simply find new ways to work with independent corporations. Instead, they preferred to hold on to increasingly dissatisfied and heavily armed corporations.
When the Clone Wars broke out, Corellia withdrew from the Republic, declaring its neutrality. Even so, our nearby neighbors in Duro were hit hard by the war, and as a result, we faced a heavy recession. Years of troubling domestic issues followed. Jobs were lost, crime increased, and the public was divided in their support for the Republic and the Sepratists. Most eventually accepted neutrality as preferable to declaring for either side.
For that short span of time, Corellia did what Corellia does best: look after itself. Our leaders suggested that when the war was over, and time was right, Corellia would rejoin the Republic. Only, the Republic never came back. In its place was the Galactic Empire and its overwhelming war machine.
Not long after the end of the war, the Empire sent its envoys to Corellia, orbiting our worlds in their stark white Star Destroyers bearing messages of peace, friendship and reconciliation. But Corellia had enjoyed its short years of freedom, despite the hardships. The difficulties we faced only served to strengthen the Corellian spirit. We explained this to our Imperial guests, of course, and were promptly instructed to take a good long look at their ships and reconsider.
In the end, we struck a deal with the Empire. In return for taxes,war material and an outward love for the Emperor, Corellia could retain its government and be mostly free of Imperial law. We spared ourselves from subjugation, but we bankrupted our souls — and the Corellian population wouldn't soon forget it.
Protests were commonplace, and threats of an Imperial crackdown became more severe as time went on. This led many Corellians right into the arms of the budding Rebel Alliance. Perhaps most importantly, it forced Senator Garm Bel Iblis into the Rebellion, a fact that helped many more Corellians make up their minds about the Empire.
Human Corellians were drafted into Imperial service, and with so many already leaving home for the Rebel Alliance, it left the system somewhat under-defended from the likes of pirates and criminals. Corellia's first Imperial Moff, Fliry Vorru, enjoyed making deals with criminals more than petitioning the Emperor for Imperial assistance. In short order, our system became a haven for everything illegal.
Vorru's eventual incarceration on Kessel gave many Corellians hope for a more proactive governor, but what followed was more of the same. Lazy, corrupt Imperial figureheads were well complemented by an ineffective Diktat. Corellia was bleeding.
But Endor changed everything.
In the months that followed the Emperor's defeat, the Corellian system remained nominally in the Empire's control. Yet as Imperial infighting took hold, their grip loosened, until at last, the Diktat reasserted its power.
Now, there's a lot that can be said about the Diktat's former chiefs of state, but no one will ever forget Daclif Gallamby. Some might say he was an Imperial sympathizer, and they wouldn't be entirely wrong. Others might say he was simply paranoid. They wouldn't be wrong either. Our first years of freedom from the Empire weren't our best. Gallamby dissolved the long-standing Corellian Security Force, replacing it with the Public Safety Service — perhaps the most ineffective government agency ever conceived.
Crime continued to wreak havoc on the peoples of Corellia, and the PSS did little to remedy the problem. Hutts and Black Sun thugs pushed weapons, spice and all manner of contraband onto our worlds. Civilian ships were being attacked on a daily basis, and distress calls went unanswered. Public dissent against Gallamby, his administration and the PSS was at an all-time high. In just a few short months, protests against his regime turned into open revolt.
By 10ABY, Gallamby was forced out of the Corellian system, taking refuge in the outlying systems of the sector. In his stead, new civilian leaders were appointed to the Diktat. With the threat of near-anarchy created by the criminal presence in the system, the public's main concern was that the new leadership get the situation under control, quickly. Toward that end, Corellians looked to someone with a great deal of experience in dealing with criminals, which they found in Rostek Horn, a former director of the Corellian Security Force.
Though he took the position reluctantly, Horn recognized Corellia's dire need for security, and pledged to see his home restored to its former glory. Among his first acts were the immediate closure of the PSS and the reinstatement of the Corellian Security Force, which was immediately set to the task of rooting out criminal cells in the system.
Horn's strong ties with the New Republic (namely through his grandson, Rogue Squadron pilot turned Jedi Knight, Corran Horn) provided a comfortable way for him to invite the fledgling galactic government to talks regarding Corellia's membership. He believed that with proper support from the New Republic, Corellia could have its issues with criminal elements resolved in just a few short years. Still, the talks were fraught with difficulty, as the Corellian people wished to maintain near-autonomy.
First came the promises of aid. The New Republic paraded itself around, pleasing the crowds with its talk of mutual-defense and border patrols, but even as they spoke criminals continued to stream in and sneak out unperturbed. Horn's inquiries were met with terse responses. The New Republic fleet was otherwised engaged, he was told, and they would dispatch a task force to Corellia as soon as possible. The talks made little progress, though Horn proposed a reasonable solution to the crime problem. He suggested that Corellia take an active role in rooting out the piracy and crime along the New Republic's trade routes. It made sense, considering the majority of criminal activity was originating outside Corellian space.
The stipulation, of course, would be granting Corellia the autonomy and jurisdiction to do so. The New Republic, in its infinite wisdom, felt that it would be improper to allow a member state to police such a large swath of territory. They believed that local military forces needed to remain local unless called upon directly. If Corellia were allowed such a degree of military freedom, it would have to apply to all member states, muddying territorial distinctions throughout the entire New Republic.
Although none would explicitly say so, many Corellian legislators believed this policy of keeping local forces to a minimum was the New Republic's way of maintaining control over its member states. The New Republic was beginning to look a bit too Imperial for Corellia.
In short order, Horn and the Diktat grew impatient with the New Republic's need to hammer out every detail, and its surprising lack of action in stemming the criminal problem. The token gestures wore thin quickly. In response, Horn called meetings to begin organizing and planning ways for Corellia to solve its problems on its own. His reasoning was simple and to the point: Corellia took care of itself, as it should, as it always has.
Measures were created to increase the scope and power of CorSec, new contracts were sent to the engineers at the Corellian Engineering Corporation, and for the first time in decades, new keels were laid to expand the power of the Corellian Navy. Public opinion was strongly in favor of Horn's plan, and though he clung to hope that there would be some breakthrough with the New Republic, the early optimism of the talks faded into a frustrating maelstrom of rhetoric.
In late 11ABY, the talks officially broke down. The Empire's renewed offensives at Orinda, Fondor and Bilbringi put the New Republic on the defensive. Unable to continue the talks amidst renewed conflict, the New Republic tabled its negotiations with Corellia, leaving the Diktat to pick up the pieces.
As the New Republic fleet was smashed by Pellaeon, Corellia's newfound determination invigorated its struggling economy and ignited passion within the population. The New Republic is fighting for its very survival, and while Corellia would never deny that the fight against the Empire is just, another kind of suffering in the galaxy remains at large: a secret suffering, a festering wound opened by the likes of Black Sun and the Hutts.
They strike from shadows and taint our hard-won freedoms. They plague honest traders and infest shipping lanes. They poison the minds of our youth, and treat life with little regard. It is crime: unfair, unjust, subversive. So long as it exists, we will be at odds.
And Corellians don't care for odds.
All Command and Control Subroutines Disabled - Access Granted
Data Entry 005, Subsection 01, 'Orientation'
So, you've weaseled your way past the security of a simple computer system. I'm sure you're impressed with yourself. Go ahead, bask in a few moments of self-adulation: from here on out the challenges will increase tenfold.
Well then, you've passed the first test. You're ambitious enough to know a little slicing, and interested enough to navigate your way to this particular document. No doubt you were given a set of vague instructions from some being in our employ. A tactless Rodian, perhaps? Maybe a rough looking Nikto or Weequay? Or was it a compassionate human that took the time to listen to your story, and sought to help you in your time of need by giving you a job lead? Either way, it hardly matters. Why? Because this is the point of no return. We can only assume you knew what you were getting into.
Oh, don't be startled. A smart whip like yourself should have already surmised that accessing this data sent a rogue signal through some very specific Holonet pathways. We know who, what, and where you are, and our agents are already tracking you. Should you try to disappear before they come to retrieve you, please be advised that we are more than willing to fully disintigrate your person.
In any case, you can hardly elude us for long. A legion of heavily armed and monetarily motivated bounty hunters are at our service. We aim to make transitioning into your new line of work as easy as possible, which is why we offer you two distinct choices:
1. Comply, and enjoy our generous benefits package which includes (but is not limited to):
-An ever increasing supply of credits that a government like the New Republic or the Empire would deny you for 'tax' purposes or 'health' benefits.
-Abundant amounts of spice, pills, self-administered medications, and all the things that would be denied to you on the more civilized worlds.
-Attractive* females (or males, or both) of any species you can imagine, always on call for your comfort and pleasure.
-The chance to work for a multicultural, Galaxy-spanning organization whose main goal is to bring true freedom to the people who desire it most, and those who don't realize they desire it quite yet.
2. Refuse to comply and enjoy our generous termination package* which includes (but is not limited to):
-Your immediate and unceremonious death.
-Torture and dismemberment, followed by death.
-Absurd, meticulously planned and drawn-out scenarios that take place over hours, days, months or years (we can't say exactly which of these it will be), all resulting in your (slightly more poetic) death.
Now that we understand one another, I'm sure your mind is a bit clearer. Make no mistake, we are interested in your services, and sincerely hope you choose to leave your life of mediocrity and work for us. We're always expanding, and have a number of positions ready and available.
I hope you are not alarmed by our brutal honesty. We find that it keeps our employees loyal, which is so important in such a trust-sensitive industry. If you don't know, we occasionally have an issue with people you might refer to as 'snitches'. We try to weed them out as quickly as possible.
I'm sure your skin is positively crawling with questions. If so, go ahead and proceed to the Main Entry for some background information.
*A subjective term. If Ithorians are your thing, it's totally cool.
*What happens to you ultimately depends on the violent mood-swings of our leader. His entertainment is paramount.
Data Entry 001: His Great Obesity, Lord Durga the Hutt
Data Entry 001: His Great Obesity, Lord Durga the Hutt
The Galaxy is a cesspool. Above all else, remember that. No matter how often this fact is displayed plainly, for all to see, groups and individuals still try to assert their control over it, to remake it in their image. A preposterous endeavor, to attempt to bring order to such a festering wound.
The Empire promotes rigid structures, laws, and soothes people with its stark whites and neutral greys, all while doing as it pleases behind closed doors. The New Republic pats itself on the back for returning a large portion of the Galaxy to its democratic roots: rule by the people, for the people. Unfortunately for them, people don't know what they want and bureaucrats are bloated imbeciles.
Even the Corellians, ever the independent nation, make empty vows to stop piracy and the flow of 'illicit' goods. This, only after decades of allowing the Empire to dictate its policies. It's as if they suddenly awoke from a long slumber, only to find out they're paralyzed in a hospital bed and allergic to bacta.
Those of us who are capable of free thought, what few there are, must ask why. Why exert control over the Galaxy? Why bring order to filth? Why not just allow our reality to be what it truly is? Our solemn duty should be to help history along its merry way.
Now you can begin to understand His Great Obesity and his philosophy. Lord Durga and the beings in his employ represent the last hope for a truly free existence. He understands that life in our universe is not about living in harmony with one's surroundings, it's about taking what you want and getting what you need.
The second the stars formed, we were on borrowed time. Best to use what's left of it before we all implode, is it not?But not everyone has come to such a conclusion, at least not yet. This is why Durga strives to spread his enlightenment across the stars.
His organization is about providing people the things they need to survive the awful hells of the Galaxy, perpetuated by the desires of the selfish and cruel. If that means getting his hands bloodied and dirty, so be it. The people of this universe deserve to be happy, but are routinely denied that happiness by their governments, laws, and even their fellow beings. Lord Durga's organization offers solutions to all the Galaxy's ills by distributing the tools necessary for all beings to achieve personal-governance.
What do we mean by personal-governance? It's quite simple really: It's the notion that all beings have the right to live as they wish, without interference from others, regardless of their ideas, actions, or penchant for destruction. Many people choose to be follow the doctrine of leaders they choose or trust, which is understandable. For those who don't, Durga's services are a vital lifeline.
We provide badly needed medications to under-served and needy populations whose governments ban their distribution, offer companionship to lonely beings, and provide work for the jobless and destitute, all at competitive prices. We take money and supplies from those who don't deserve it, and redistribute it accordingly. We remove troublesome individuals from existence on whim and by contract, and yes, we even provide weapons to struggling freedom fighters.
Those who disapprove of our operations brand us as pirates, smugglers, gangsters and killers. Call us what you will, but we provide necessary goods and support to the people who need it most, all in a quiet, clandestine manner.
Now, you may be wondering just who Durga is, and how it is he came into such prominence. Well, His Great Obesity comes from a long line of Hutts who were tuned to the pulse of civilization and the suffering all around them. This empathy pushed them into lines of work where they could provide the most assitance with the least resistance. Pardon the rhyme, but Lord Durga enjoys the occasional piece of kitsch.
Durga's father, Aruk, was for many years the leader of the Besadii kajidic, an influential Hutt clan. A masterful businessman, Aruk brought the clan untold fortune, all while providing for the galaxy at large. However, his bitter rivals in the Desilijic clan, rather than make a concerted attempt to do proper business, saw fit to poison Aruk, ending his life prematurely. Shortly thereafter, Durga assumed control, and with the help of Black Sun leader Prince Xizor, he sought out Aruk's killers and exacted justice. In exchange, Durga was made a leader within the Black Sun, and transferred much of Besadii's holdings over to the organization.
This arrangement was to be short lived, however, as Xizor met his end just before the Battle of Endor.
Taking what resources he could from the Black Sun, Durga set out on his own, rebuilding the Besadii and creating an organization far surpassing the reach and scope of Xizor's. With his years of experience as a Vigo, the lessons of his father, and a thirst for changing the galaxy for the better, Durga formed what has come to be informally known as the Hutt Cartel, a mutual understanding, or cooperation between many of the galaxy's largest clandestine and less-than-legal elements.
The Cartel's purpose is closely aligned with Lord Durga's philosophy: provide the Galaxy with the goods and services it needs, wants and deserves, profiting only enough to help expand those goods and services to more needy people. Structurally, the organization is loose, with various autonomous elements catering to different sectors of space, often specializing in some form of business or another. In return for support from Durga's central organization, some of the profits from these enterprises are paid to Durga. In turn, he uses those funds to expand into new territory or bolster his other holdings. But, I digress, you will learn in time about the many facets of the Cartel. Suffice it to say, this is a diverse operation with resources that rival those of even the Empire.
Those who stand in the way of that mission are disposable. Vessels may be lost, computer systems infiltrated and lives ended, but only in the name of true freedom, true happiness. It is our secret war, and now you are a part of it. Your happiness, your purpose, and your new life await you.
And his Great Obesity does so wish you to be happy.
And last but not least, take a gander at some of Sizer's work on the IRD-A Superiority Fighter!
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