[P17 - Farstine - FZ] Drego Karsk's Office - Cinder Station

In orbit above Farstine...

Carm had been in this office a few times before- one of the few areas of Cinder Station left almost entirely untouched by the fighting over Naboo, which had finally burned out the Emperor's devastating Operation Cinder. The bones of an Imperial installation were present across the entire space, the durasteel panels unscarred by the blast holes and wreckage that pervaded the rest of the station. Maybe Drego liked his only slightly modded surroundings the way they were, though the pirate lord had no love for the Empire. Perhaps he just liked this setting to feature his prizes from a time many Republics ago.

An invitation to meet Drego here meant there was an important job that needed doing.

The whole situation felt off, and Carm didn't like being in the dark. The armored stranger in the corner didn't help his nerves.

Drego sat at his data terminal, his pudgy hands twitching as streams of information scrolled past. When he finally looked up, his smile was calculating.

"Carm, my boy. Still breathing." He raised his hands theatrically. "That alone is an accomplishment these days." Carm nodded. "Word travels," Drego continued. "Coruscant was hairy. And now Black Sun’s started sneaking around again. Hrmph. You do know how to make enemies."

Carm nodded again, and his eyes drifted to Lukar. The Shistavanen bodyguard loomed beside his master, massive frame perfectly still. The blaster resting in his claw reflected the harsh white glow of the station’s aging Imperial lights, lights that never dimmed, never warmed. Cold and constant, just like the ever-present Remnant.

"Let’s stop dancing," Drego said, straightening. "You’ve done well for me. More than well. You’ve proven you’re not just some stick-up simian chasing the next score." His gaze sharpened. "That puts you in a different category now."

Not likely to be a good one, Carm thought.

"You remember Stend. The armory." He chuckled softly. "Kriff, that was inspired. Quick. Violent. Efficient. You must have learned that from your marine days." His voice dropped. "But now I’ve got a station full of Remnant weapons, and that’s a liability. You don’t sit on something like that unless you want attention."

"That tracks," Carm agreed flatly.

"Of course it does. You’re clever." Drego tilted his head. "Then you already know the problem. The New Republic’s tearing its own military apart, and the Remnant won’t touch anything with Imperial serials still welded to it. 'Where did these come from?' they’d ask me." He smiled thinly. "Questions make me nervous."

Carm didn’t respond. He hated this tone- condescending and rehearsed, like Drego was walking him through a bad joke he'd already heard.

"Well," Drego said, turning slightly, "that brings us to our present solution." He gestured toward the corner. "Leontis. Markedons."

The armored trooper shifted, plasteel plates rasping softly. "We fight the Remnant wherever they surface," he said. "But the Senate finds our methods... disagreeable."

"Militarized resistance makes politicians twitch," Drego said pleasantly. "An ironic tragedy given how they've come to power, really."

He motioned Carm toward the holo-table. The image of a planet bloomed into existence, washed in sickly blue light.

"Barkhesh," Drego said. "The Markedons have dug in there. Dense terrain. Hostile. Feels like your home on Marca, doesn’t it?"

Leontis hesitated. "It’s easier to fight on familiar ground." He continued, "Ships and naval assets haven't been an issue for us to acquire, but wars are won on the ground and we've struggled to properly equip our troops while campaigning."

"Exactly." Drego clasped his hands together. "So here’s the job. You'll gather your crew. You'll load your ship- every ship you need. And you move every blaster, every targeting system, every artillery piece off this station. You deliver it all to Barkhesh. Clean. Quiet." He leaned closer.

"Payment’s already been discussed, and you'll return with that once the job is done. I must admit, I’m also very curious about this 'surprising gift' the Markedons have offered to sweeten the deal." Drego had always been a suspicious pirate, and the Markedon only eyed him passively, offering no indication what else they intended to pay him.

Something about the secrecy over what should be a simple job made Carm’s skin crawl.

"Consider it done," Carm said, already walking to the blast door.

He didn’t look back as he left with Leontis. He needed Anja. He even needed Reekar. He needed someone to tell him whether this was just nerves- or the smell of a slow, deliberate setup.

The door sealed behind them with a heavy thunk.

Drego waited a moment, then keyed the holo-table. A new image flickered into place: a shadowy figure loomed.

"Do they suspect anything?" the figure asked.

"Not in the slightest," Drego replied. "To him, it’s just another job. A simple delivery."

"And the weapons?"

"You’ll have everything back, down to the last energy pack." Drego’s smile widened. "Along with the thief."

Lukar’s lips peeled back in a silent, savage grin.

The figure said nothing, and Drego continued smoothly. "You'll also have the opportunity to take out one of your most pressing threats in one fell swoop."

The hologram shimmered. "Payment will be released once it’s finished. Including this... special gift."

The image died.

The office returned to silence- cold, precise, and Imperial to the last.

I had a lot of fun returning to Cinder Station for this build and continuing the story! It's wild to look back at my first build for Factions vs this new one. As always, let me know what you think! More action-packed additions to the story to come soon 🙂