Czerka Orbital Station

[Czerka Employee]

This station was placed into orbit and acts as a fueling station and trade depot for the planet. In times of trouble Czerka forces can retreat here and prepare for a counterattack. The station has several dozen docking ports and living quarters for permanent station employees and visitors.

[Czerka Employee]

Balsam Nelden stood near the airlock and tugged at his collar again. Was it just him or was it getting hot in here? The others stood by and displayed similar levels of discomfort. He had his bags with him and his financial adviser confirmed his not-inconsiderable compensation package was now in his personal account. His support team wasn't so lucky, from what he saw of their finances. They were standing around to see him off, none of them seemed sorry to see him go. Not even the ones who, only a few days ago, were plenty eager to please him.

It was their fault, really. He had ensured that if Czerka wanted him gone they would pay dearly for it, personally he was amazed that they paid him off. It would have been cheaper for them to transfer him away to some other backwater. Tattooine perhaps, for the rebuilding of Anchorhead or the Mos Eisley project.

Through the viewport he could see several large vessels approaching the station with a shuttle in the lead. It was a shuttle kitted for luxury, used by Czerka executives and he knew it carried his replacement. A few minutes later the airlock opened and a stern looking woman stepped out with a small team following her. This surprised him, normally support staff came in another ship. The woman looked at Balsam and his retinue. "I am Vice President Trenex, Director of Kashyyyk operations. You are Mr. Nelden."

"That's former director Nelden. After all I've done for Czerka I deserve at least that."

The Vice President's eyes narrowed, "You lost the Rwookrrorro outpost, suffered casualties at the barracks, and cannot account 72 employees. From what I understand our hold on the planet is reduced to the spaceport and some surrounding area. After all you've done, Mr. Nelden, you are lucky we don't throw you out the airlock."

The man scowled and looked at his team, "The blame cannot fully rest on my shoulders. I am but one man."

She looked at his support team, most had a dark look on their faces. "I shouldn't have to remind you that you were in charge. The blame does in fact, rest on your shoulders."

"This is pointless, get your gear off the shuttle and out of my way. You can deal with the hairy savages, I'm retired."

The Vice President smiled and it gave Nelden the chills, "Of course." She stood to one side and gestured towards the airlock, "We're all finished. The rest of our gear is coming in a cargo hauler."

Balsam nodded, "Excellent," he turned to his team, "You all can get to the ship in the hauler." He stepped onto the shuttle and closed the hatch. The support team scowled and muttered.

The Vice president turned to Balsam Nelden's former team, "In spite of Mr. Nelden's statement you don't need to go anywhere. None of you in fact, are fired. Not yet. I'm not an easy woman to work for, but I reward people who work hard and produce results."

Balsam entered the cabin and found none of the accountrements he was expecting. The seats looked small and uncomfortable. There was no bar, and the walls were bare. There was nothing here in. How the drek was he to occupy himself for the flight?! He felt the ship move, the pilot hadn't told him to sit down or strap himself in for the flight. Balsam keyed the intercom, "Pilot, return to station." No response, but there was the slight hint of the ship making a maneuver. He sat down and waited. The Vice President could send for the real executive shuttle. Czerka had already eaten mynock, they could eat a little more to get him out of their hair.

The Vice President gave them a cold smile, "Incompetence will not be tolerated, and certainly not rewarded. I intend to cull the Kashyyyk staff, getting rid of the sycophants and dead weight. If you fall into either of those categories I suggest you get on that hauler when it arrives."

Balsam frowned, it shouldn't take this long to dock again. Even if they had to go clear around to the other side of the station, which would explain the maneuvers he felt earlier. He keyed the intercom again but didn't get a response. So, he stood up and walked up to the cockpit door. He found the door to the cockpit closed. He pressed the button to open it, but the door didn't budge. He keyed the intercom, "Open this door!" There was no answer. Balsam popped the panel off and hotwired the door, one of the many skills he found useful in the high stakes world of Czerka politics. The hatch slid open and he found...no one. Both pilot seats were empty. The view outside didn't show him going towards the larger Czerka ships, or the station. Instead he had a view of an ocean with a few islands at the bottom of the cockpit window. Kashyyyk took up the entire window and then some, and he realized with horror that he was reentering the atmosphere at high speed. With the gravity on he hadn't noticed they were diving into the planet! He quickly jumped into the pilot's seat and found that navigation was offline, repulsors were down, and he was coming in at a steep angle. Hull failure imminent.

Back on the station, most of the staff chose to stay and told Vice President right then and there. Others went to go pack their things and warn their friends to quit before they were fired. The Vice President and her team entered the executive offices of the station like a conquering army and began setting up. Those that chose to remain offered to help smooth the transition process.

One of the Vice President's followers tilted her bald head and turned towards the Vice President. What had looked like an earpiece turned out to be a cybernetic implant embedded into the side of her head. ::Ms. Trenex? The shuttle carrying former director Balsam Nelden has had an accident. Minimal information at this time, but the shuttle seems to have burned up reentering the planet's atmosphere. All hands are expected to be lost.:: If hearing the woman was disconcerting for Nelden's people, watching her communicate was worse, the woman's mouth didn't open when she spoke and they didn't see anything like a speaker.

She continued sending messages through her new work station while she talked. "Junkit, file a report once we learn something. I expect it was something like a fault in the navigation system." There was no hint of pleasure, remorse, or guilt in Vice President Trenex's response. Nelden's compensation had been considerable, but it helped justify the staggering amount he was worth on the corporate asset life insurance policy Czerka. The man's former staff looked at each other uneasily.

Trenex looked at them, "We are going to be very busy from here on out. If you are staying, I'm sure you have work to do." They scrambled back to their seats. Some noticed several new ships on the scanners coming to dock at the station. They had been part of the small Czerka fleet that had brought VP Trenex. Their shape and markings made it obvious what they were. Czerka troop carriers and supply ships.