Grid Location: J-21
Sector: Kallea sector
Region: Outer Rim

Terrain: Tropical Rainforest Climate, lavender Forests, dense fungal Growth and blue Lakes

Native Species: Imyni

Population: Less than a Million + Ashlons 3rd Army Battalion "Rancor"

Capital: Dargyran

Commanding Officer: Captain Winchel Aurex

History: Sitting at the edge of the Rimma Trade Route and at the doorstep to Wild Space, Imynusoph has always remained outside the borders of galactic governments. Due to its remote nature, the planet has become the subject of numerous folk tales involving a secret treasure, which has led to many conflicts, the most notable of them being described in the opera The Kallea Cycle.

The high-handed nature of off-worlders has forced the seemingly peaceful and passive Imyni population to take up arms to protect their cultural heritage. The arrival of the Ashlon Empire has not helped settle things down, as the Remnant continues sending squads of troopers and mercenaries in search of any possible signs of the rumored treasure.To help fund their cause, the Empire has also subjugated the local populace to extract a stimulant drug, Tirefin, for resale to various criminal merchants across the galaxy. In order to achieve his goals, Emperor Ashlon has sent Captain Winchel Aurex, a veteran of Death Squadron and the battles of Hoth and Endor, making him a perfect fit for the task at hand. New Republic funded proxies have been trying to breach the blockade on the planet but have so far failed.

The toxis waste left from refinement of the product has been scorching the terrain and has caused magma rock and lava rivers to resurface. As foretold in Imyni sacred texts, the people are now forced to take up arms in order to restore balance to the planet.

Objective: Extract Tirefin and transport it to Terminus for smuggling across the galaxy to fund the war effort.

Recommended color palette: Lavanders/violettes and shades of purple, dark green/ bright green for the grass, Dark tan/brown terrain.Of course try to work with the limitations of your collection if these are not available to you. 

Notable Locations: 

Dargyran Temple - Sitting at the heart of the capital access to the temple has been severaly limited by the occupying Battallion, but rebellious natives have still been using the extensive catacomb network as meeting points to plan their attacks.  

Status: Still Operational 

Outskirt Villages - The Imyni are divided into several tribes using concentrated areas of fungal growth as villages. Countless  have been destroyed as revolts against the slavery continue but many still stand in the more dense jungle of the central hemisphere.

Builds: https://swfactions.net/community/postid/4903/

Status: Largely destroyed but still present

Imperial Refinery - The bulk of the mining has been taking place on the southern hemisphere of the planet where large pockets of Tirefin are buried under ground, this has lead to the construction of an extensive refinery in the region. 

Status: Still Operational 

Relay Station - To better plan their occupation, the Ashlon Empire has constructed a relay station just outside of the capital. 

Builds: https://swfactions.net/community/season-iii/base-on-imynusoph/#post-5524

Status: Still Operational

Power Station - The large mining operations on the planet have required the construction of a large thermal power station utilizing resurfacing lava rivers. The importance of the site has made it a prime target for insurgents.

Builds: https://swfactions.net/community/season-iii/the-sabotage/#post-6679

Status: Ground Crew currently held hostage

Scattered Outposts - Several outposts have been built to mantain operations in check.

Builds: https://swfactions.net/community/postid/4905/

Status: Several Under attack

Jungle Regions - The entangled array of jungle trees that characterize the planet have made ideal locations for the Imyni to ambush troopers 

Builds: https://swfactions.net/community/postid/5513/

             https://swfactions.net/community/postid/4518/

Status: Hotly contested

Space Stations and Blockade - The Chronos orbital space station serves as a main shipping hub of Tirefin for Imynusoph as it makes it way to Terminus and into the wider galaxy. 

Builds: https://swfactions.net/community/season-iii/indomitable-spirit/

Status: Still operational

On the surface of Farstine...

Carm stilled himself, letting the rhythm of the wasteland take over. All around him, pipes groaned, rusted metal strained. Somewhere in the haze, a pressure valve shrieked and vented gas into the choking sky. The entire surface of Farstine seemed to breathe in slow, mechanical agony- and for Carm, that steady, lurching cadence brought a strange kind of calm.

He needed it, because just before him, the representatives of the Shipsters Union and CorDuro Shipping were seconds from killing each other.

"You Duros undercut every contract we take," Jonas Creel snapped, his voice warbling through his rebreather. "Then you call it 'efficiency.' We call it scabbing."

Relan Syx didn't raise his voice. Duros rarely needed to. "We call it providing superior service at competitive rates, human."

"Maybe if you let anyone but Duros into your corporation, you'd understand how the rest of us operate."

Relan tilted his head slightly. "Curious... I don't recall the Shipsters Union opening its doors to Duros, either."

Carm exhaled sharply. "That's enough," he cut in, stepping forward. "I didn't drag you both out to a methane backwater world to relive old grudges."

The two turned toward him. Even through their masks, he could feel the shift- their hostility redirecting at him.

Relan spoke first. "It seems we lost sight of ourselves." A pause. "Easy to do, when meeting a ghost."

Jonas let out a dry, distorted chuckle. "Aye. Last I heard, Drego Karsk's errand boy got himself killed on Barkesh. Imperial assassin, wasn't it?"

Carm rolled his eyes, and flexed the servos of his mechanical arm. "Rumors are convenient like that."

The wind shifted, carrying a wave of acrid fumes across the cracked ground. Nearby, a tar-black pool bubbled lazily.

"I brought you here," Carm continued, "because you both have something in common. You hate Drego Karsk- and you're both bleeding credits because of him." Neither man spoke. That was answer enough.

"I'm trusting you," Carm said. "You walk away from this meeting, and my survival stays between us."

Jonas glanced around the wasteland, the endless pipelines stretching into the haze, skeletal towers leaning like corpses. "You call this trust?" he said. "You tell us to come unarmed, then surround yourself with guards carrying blasters?"

Relan gave a faint, approving nod.

Carm didn't flinch. "I told you to come unarmed because I didn't trust you not to shoot each other before we even started talking." He could tell even from their covered faces that they saw his logic. "As for Farstine- Drego's pirates don't come down here. Not into the wastes. This is somewhere we can speak freely, and it's close enough to them that they'd never expect it."

A distant flare stack ignited, casting a sharp flicker of orange light across their masks.

Relan folded his hands behind his back. "Very well," he said. "You have our attention."

"Speak for yourself," Jonas muttered, then added, "okay you speak for both of us, there." Carm nodded.

"Drego controls the shipping lanes through this sector. You pay him, or you lose ships. Maybe both." He let that hang. "I intend to change that."

Jonas and Relan exchanged a look, wary but calculating the scenario.

"I'm going to take Cinder Station," Carm said. "I'll Remove Drego, and replace him."

Silence.

The wind howled through exposed piping.

"And in return for our support?" Relan asked.

"You get safe passage," Carm said. "Reliable routes. No ransom demands. And I charge you less than the pirates ever did."

Jonas gave a low whistle. "It's a bold plan."

"Reckless is more like it," Relan corrected. "You expect us to believe you can control an entire sector?" His gaze flicked to Carm's small escort. "I see two mercenaries and a story that should have ended on Barkesh. What exactly are you offering us?"

A sharp grind of durasteel echoed as Carm's mechanical hand clenched into a fist.

"You wouldn't just be dealing with me," he said quietly. "You'd be under the protection of the Flame of Zhar."

Both men stiffened.

Even through the masks, Carm saw it- a flicker of recognition. Maybe a bit of fear too.

"I know the Union's crossed paths with syndicates before," Carm continued. "And CorDuro understands profit better than principle."

Relan's voice dropped. "Our clients would not tolerate that kind of association."

"They won't know," Carm said simply. "All they'll see is their cargo arriving on time. Intact, for the first time in years."

The refinery groaned around them. Somewhere nearby, a valve vented with a violent hiss.

"Less loss," Carm pressed. "Lower costs, more stability. Your investors will thank you for it."

Relan said nothing, but Carm could practically hear the calculations turning.

Then Jonas stepped forward, placing a gloved hand on Carm's shoulder.

"Say we back you," he said. "What do you need?"

Carm was startled. He was succeeding faster than expected.

"A meeting," he said. "You request an audience with Drego on Cinder Station. Negotiation for shipping protections." He glanced between them. "My brother Gire joins as your security detail. That's when we move."

Jonas barked a laugh. "Secrecy and subterfuge- you've changed, lad. Truly a member of the syndicates now."

"I've adapted," Carm said.

Both men turned to Relan.

For a long moment, the Duros said nothing. The wind howled. The haze shifted. Farstine itself seemed to hold its breath.

"Our people were among the first species to leave our homeworld," Relan said. "We've survived by adapting. Again and again." He met Carm's gaze. "I will trust you. I only ask that you not waste that trust."

Jonas clapped his hands together. "Well then! When do we start this little mutiny?"

Carm glanced out across the poisoned horizon, the pipelines vanishing into the haze, flames flickering in the distance.

"Soon," he said. "I have a few things left to finish on Farstine."

He looked back at them.

"I'll send word."

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Had some fun here working with some techniques, trying my hand at improving my terrain building, and even putting together some speeders :) As always, please share any comments/suggestions/critiques!

Besides cutting the trees down for exporting lumber, workers on Ikkrukk also managed to find other uses for the native foliage. Long ago it was discovered that the sap was useful for many things. If collected from near the top of the tree, it was bitter from the long climb up the "veins" of the tree. The locals used this bitter sap to brew a strong liquor. 

i promise there will be a story - just later - 

- this is meant to re-introduce my sigfig Lyra :)

https://www.flickr.com/photos/192171447@N03/55217620648/in/dateposted-public/

Well, better late than never! This build was the result of nearly 3 years of on and off work, so I have waaay too many pictures to share here. Feel free to browse the full album: https://photos.app.goo.gl/sDstLea8yMzpv65L6

Thank you all! 

The transition from Reytha to Republic custody was swift and without ceremony.

“What did this one do?” a guard asked as the prisoner was escorted down the corridor.

“This is the traitor responsible for the sabotage in the fields and at the spaceport on Reytha. The Admiral wants her interrogated. If she was recruited locally, we root out whoever’s still hiding there.” said Captain Harlow.

So this was it. Brina Harp had always wanted a way off world. A chance at something beyond the endless fields and predictable seasons of Reytha.

The cell door slid open with a sharp mechanical hiss. Her new life waited on the other side.

The wheat fields weren't always greener on the other side.

This build was based off the New Republic prison transport we saw in the first season of The Mandalorian.  

Captain G'yl Mo Rauder and his crew persuade an Imperial Commander to provide the access codes for a Protocol Droid that are linked to Imperial Remnant data and funds.

More to come...

On the planet Farstine...

Carm and his brother Gire had been picking their way through the web of underground passages. The rusted corridors, collapsed bulkheads, and forgotten access tunnels seemed to run on forever. They'd found the abandoned Industrial Automation facility, just as the intel promised, but had found no sign of the fabled datapad.

Every room told the same story: dead assembly lines, gutted control panels, and piles of decommissioned droids stripped for parts years ago.

"I've got a good feeling about this one," Gire said. His voice came out low and distorted through his helmet's synthesizer. Carm wondered if that intimidation technique had served him well back when he worked for the Hutts.

Carm swept his handlight across the room, looking for any sign of their prize. The beam caught jagged silhouettes- broken chassis, hanging cables, skeletal remains of machinery. A weak, warm glow spilled in from the corridor behind them, but the rest of the space felt like an endless blackness.

Industrial Automation had been hit hard during the Imperial years. Outer and Mid Rim facilities like this one were abandoned, written off, left to rot and be forgotten.

Gire turned toward him. "So... this Anja. You two seem close."

Carm hesitated. Even now talking to his brother felt strange, picking up a relationship that had been forgotten for years.

"We've been through a lot," he said finally. "We haven't had much time, but enough to know. I care about her."

"I'm glad." Carm could hear the smile under the helmet. "The Galaxy's dark enough as it is. Good to have something worth holding onto." A beat. "And it’s really good being back alongside my little brother."

Carm nodded, continuing his search. "What about you? Anyone special?" A mechanical chuckle echoed off the rusted walls.

"Not many lookers in Hutt space," Gire said. "Gamorreans, mercs, the usual crowd. But hey, now that we’re part of a galaxy-spanning crime syndicate? Maybe my luck is about to change!"

Carm smirked, then stopped. A human skeleton sat slumped in a chair, dressed in a muted factory uniform. The silence pressed in tighter. "What happened here...?" he muttered.

Gire called from across the room. "Weren't they researching issues with their LOM-series droids? Imagine being stuck in a box with a protocol droid that long. I'd die of boredom too."

Carm shook his head, letting out a quiet breath, and then his light caught something.

A datapad lay there on the table before him.

"Is that it?" Gire called out to him.

"I think so." Carm stepped closer, pulse quickening. A whole line of LOM droids under his control. With that kind of force, Drego and his pirates wouldn’t stand a chance.

"So remind me why we need these things," Gire said. "My mercs would be more than happy to lead the charge on Cinder Station."

There was something under his tone. He sounded a little hurt.

Carm didn't look back. "Because I trust you. All of you. And when I take that station, I need people- not just machines."

The moment shattered.

A violent screech of metal tore through the room as pipes behind Carm burst loose, whipping wildly.

"Carm, look out!" He turned just a beat too late.

One of the "dead" LOM droids surged to life, lunging at him. Its servos screamed as it crashed into him, durasteel hands snapping forward with terrifying precision.

A blaster crack split the air, and Gire dropped a second droid before it could leap at him. It hit the floor with a heavy, final clang.

"Get... this thing off... me!" Carm yelled, struggling as the droid forced him backwards.

"I don't have a clear shot!" Gire snapped, trying to focus his shot and not hit Carm.

The droid operated with a primal, efficient, brutal purpose. Even as he fought for his life, Carm felt a flicker of admiration. If he could control them...

The droid slammed him to the ground, rearing back for the killing strike. Carm fired a point blank shot, the bolt punching through its chassis. The droid jerked, spasmed, and then collapsed in a heap of sparking metal. A stillness filled the room.

Carm lay there for a moment, breathing hard, then pushed himself up. Smoke curled from the ruined machines.

"Well," Gire said after a beat, his voice unsteady despite the modulator, "let's hope those pirates are worse shots than we are."

Carm stared at the wreckage, heart still hammering. "If we can produce enough of these, it won’t matter how good they are."

"Assuming you can build them," Gire said. "Do you have droidsmiths? Slicers?"

Carm shrugged. "Not yet. But I know where to find them. Pirates don’t bother coming down to Farstine's surface. They figure the population is scared enough of them up in orbit to be kept in line." He picked up the datapad.

"We'll have all the time we need to prepare."

Gire studied him for a moment. "One more thing. Why did you just bring me on this little adventure?"

Carm glanced back, a faint grin breaking through the grime and tension. " I just figured it could be a good old-fashioned brotherly outing." Gire let out a hearty laugh at that.

Then he turned, and together they made their way out of the dead factory, leaving the silence behind them.

--------

This was a fun build for me- I wanted to work in some horror/adventure influences. Hoping everyone can just ignore the sudden change in lighting from the photos- just assume the lights went on in the factory hah.

As always, please share any and all comments and critiques!

https://www.flickr.com/photos/154679240@N02/54168448585/