During the Thrawn Era...

Looking more like an exotic, aquatic creature than a spaceship, the sleek Svelte-class shuttle dropped out of Hyperspace and accelerated towards the planet Velmor, it's glossy black armor reflecting the star scape around it. It's sleek profile reflected almost no radar signal back to any sensors that happened to be searching the area, making it look like nothing more than a small meteorite or perhaps a piece of space debris.

But unlike a meteorite, the Svelte adjusted it's attitude to keep it just above the atmosphere. And then, as if breaking apart from turbo laser strikes, six pods disconnected from the shuttles bottom.

And dropped like stones.

This full throttle no brakes approach limited the amount of time the capsules would show up on sensors. To save weight and prevent anything classified from falling into enemy hands- as well as to save critical war material- they had nothing classified mounted on them. No stealth armor, no sensor mask, not even a cheap sensor jammer.

It was a hairy ride, to say the least, but it was the best way.

Commando Operative TNG Omega 17 "Gordon Thule" didn't complain about the ride, even though only a few centimeters of ceramic resistor and durasteel frame separated him from the fantastic heat of reentry. This was standard Intelligence drop, nothing to worry about. He had been prepared for these kinds of missions from the beginning.

In fact, he had been bred for them.

The capsule thundered on towards the ground.

Present Time...

The boy felt the sweat dripping down his back and face as he pushed the repulsor plow through the ground towards the other end. The sun was noon high and beeming down through the clear sky. It appeared to follow him every where he went as if to torture him all day long.

This torture of heat and light, however, he was getting used to. It was a way of life for him and his family now. They had been plowing and working this farm since his father had purchased it some months ago. While his father was now cultivating the other side of the farm, Kilmar was here plowing this new land.

Behind him and to the left were lines upon lines of already plowed land. He had started at six in the morning and had accomplished much in that span of time. His father would be proud of him, the boy thought as he kept on pushing the plow. He didn't know why, but he loved this hands on work of a farmer. Many kids would make fun of him for this passion of his, but he knew that his family and ones like them were the people feeding those others. If it wasn't for them working on this planet, food supplies would soon run low and Velmor would have to import more and more food stuff, in turn causing prices of food to skyrocket.

It was not a glamorous life, but they made do with what they had and it was very satisfying. So now he was here in the middle of what used to be a long stretch of grassland, plowing lines into the ground in the middle of the day. It was the kind of work he did day in and day out. What he didn't know was that today would be different. Today might in fact change the whole history of this planet.

Kilmar reached the end of the row and moved the plow slowly around. He moved it a little to the right and pushed the tip back into the ground like so many times before. Once more he started to push the plow along the ground, parallel to the other rows he had already done. The soil underneath had always been soft and easy to get through, so it was a surprise when he hit something hard. It could have been a rock, but the sound of the impact sounded almst... metallic.

Kilmar was about to try and go around it, but curiousity got the better of him. He moved the plow over and bent down to dig at the soil with his hands. Sitting there on there on his knees the boy pull the dirt and soil away, pushing it to the side as he created a bigger and bigger hole. As the soil was moved out of the way the boy started to see something there. It deffinatly didn't look like rock.

What he saw part something bigger. Something that looked to stretch out over the ground somewhat horizontally. When touched, Kilmar could tell it was metallic and looked to have been in the ground for some time now. He didn't know what it was, but it looked to be over a meter in diameter.

The boy sat up and thought for a moment, looking around slowly. Whatever it was, it would have to be removed before more plowing could be done. It would also probably have to be inspected for toxins of any kind. He shook his head a little and stood up, thinking about how much time this would all take. After turning off the plow he took off in a jog towards the other side of the farm to get his father and show him is discover.

As he jogged, Kilmar didn't have a clue of what that object was and that the object he had just plowed into would have grave effects on this planet of his.

Past...
Like a fiery meteor, the insertion capsule (OOC: heh, that's funny...) dropped through the atmosphere, nearly too the ground.

And just when it looked like it was going to hit the planet full force, the ring of retro rockets around the bottom end fired, bringing it gently to Velmor's surface.

The landing pad fate had supplied him was a wide open field surrounded by trees on each side, with a house in the corner furthest from him and to the left. Each end of the field was probably about two kilometers from end to end, a figure he easily and quickly calculated from his distance measuring training (or rather, the training that had been done by the original him).

The cone shaped capsule had sat down in one corner, next to a creek that marked the boundary between the forest and the field, which was inhabited by a crop of some planet he couldn't identify. For a moment TNG Omega 17 "Gordon Thule" just sat there, catching his breath and let everything he had experience during the reentry take it's turn at being processed. Finally, through sheer force of will, he undid his crash webbing and scuttled out of the craft, a slight spring in his step caused by his inexperience in the planets lighter gravity.

Hmmm... have to get rid of that, he though, Be a dead giveaway that I'm an offworlder to anyone who's observant.

First things first though: The Capsule. He couldn't just leave it sitting there.

A pair of high power Thermal Detonators took care of that real quickly, leaving no mark on the soil below due to their precise blast radius's. All he was left with was a 4*4 piece of durasteel that he quickly buried.

And so, a spring in his step that he tried to suppress, he began to hike through the woods towards the nearest city.

Part of being a sleeper cell agent was knowing how to assimilate into society. You had to become what you were eventually going to destroy in order to be unnoticed. You had to let them assimilate your life so that you appeared to be one of them on the surface.


It wasn't Commando Operative TNG Omega 17 "Gordon Thule"'s luck, but rather the sharp wit of some mid-level officer working on the Mount Tantiss project that, in addition to being an expert commando, Thule was also an excellent businessman.


Nobody was more accepted or required by society than good businessmen.


It was the perfect disguise.


After a reunion with his other five brothers that had also been dropped down with him, he went into business in the gem mining industry.


Galactic Gem inc. was born.

Present Time...

Detective Oliver Toulin slowly stepped out of his repulsor car and slowly looked around the area. As he adjusted his long fabric trench coat the slight breeze hit it, making it flutted around him. Running a hand through his short light hair, the detective eyed all the other police speeders in the area. This was probably more traffic than this part of the country saw in an entire year.

Oliver closed his speeder's door before starting to move towards a group of police officers standing in front of a closed off area. The area was a part of some field used for farming. A field that at one point in time had been all grassland and devoid of inhabitance. He could make out a small group of people standing inside the closed off section, talking to another officer who seemed to be taking down notes on a datapad.

Detective Toulin reached down to slightly straighten his detectives badge while moving closer to the line of police that secured the area. He nodded a little towards them and after eyeing his badge some of the men stepped aside to let him pass. As soon as he passed this line of men he could see a small excivator unit digging around something buried in the ground. Most of it was exposed and looked to be a sheet of metal four meters long by four meters wide.

Since this area had not been habited since just a year ago, it was a mystery as to why this metallic sheet would even be here. There was not a single reason for vehicles of any sort to come into this area and loose or dump a piece like this. That could only mean that it had come from somewhere else and Detective Toulin made it his mission to get to the bottom of it.

While the other police officer talked with what seemed to be the owners of this land, Oliver patiently watched as the excivator unit slowly pulled the thick metallic sheet from the ground and stood it upright. The detective let himself smile a little as a new clue emerged upon this excivation. What appeared to be a sheet was actually just a part of something bigger. Something that was no longer there, but it was still a piece of the puzzle.

He moved closer and studied what happened to be a curved metallic piece. It wasn't completely metallic, however, Oliver noticed. While the outside was, the interior, upon close investigation, was a form of ceramic material. This combination almost instantly reminded him something he had seen in the past. Something from his military service in the New Republic.

As he went over the piece more thuroughly he could see there were area on the sides that looked to had fit with others. There were also scaring on the metal that suggested of small explosive charges. Charges that could be used to blast off specific sections of a container unit. A unit like a covert drop pod. That was exectly what this piece reminded him of, of drop pods used by the New Republic special operations troops for deep insertion into enemy held territory.

This jog in his memory made his eyes open wide as he realized that this was the hatch part of a similar type of pod. It had been ejected by seperation bolts upon contact with the ground to allow a single operative to get out quickly. He also knew that these operative were never alone. If there was evidence of one, there would have to be others. How long they had been on Velmor he couldn't tell, but what he did know was that it happened many years ago as could be judged by the condition of the hatch standing before him.

Oliver turned quickly towards the police line and called out one of the men. The officer came running quickly and paused beside Oliver. "Yes sir?"

"Lieutenant, I want this piece taken straight to the lab and analyzed. Got it?" Ordered the Detective quickly while he pulled out his commlink.

The officer had just started to acknowledge when Detective Toulin spoke into the comm. "This is Detective Toulin to headquarters. We have a possible foreign operative insertion in Bela Koilia. I request an immediate ground scan from my location out to a distance of ten kilometers in all directions."

Oliver put the comm away and turned towards the junior detective that was interviewing the family that owned the land. He made him stop and came over to take new orders. While the man finished up and run towards the detective, Oliver was still gazing at the durasteel hatch as it was preped for transportion. He finally turned towards the junior detective and looked the man in the eyes.

"I want you to do a search for all residents of Bela Koilia that were not born on Velmor and have no record of coming planetside onboard registered transports. Narrow it down to those that live within the city and are non-citizens."

As the man took all this down on his datapad, Oliver was already thinking about the hunt ahead of him.

Present

Unfortunately for the police, they were barking up the wrong tree. Commando Operative TNG Omega 17 "Gordon Thule" wasn't programmed to be a fool, the first thing he'd done after arrival was insert records of his birth and prior life into the the local and planetary records computer databases.

After rounding up half a dozen illegal immigrants to Velmor, all of whom were promptly deported, they realized they hadn't found their man and would have to try something else.

Past...

After rounding up a trio of ludicrously rich investors, Commando Opwerative TNG Omega 17 "Gordon Thule," now venture capitalist Maxamillion Thule, got to work. Over the next two weeks he acquired a large piece of land in the middle of the planet's largest mountain range and all necessary capital for a gem mine.

They struck oil almost immediately- a massive collection of precious stones, including one weighting in at over ten thousand carots, more than twice the size of the largest stone previously found.. Galactic Gem inc. was huge. They were successful and growing, they were in the presses eye.

And no one could touch Maxamillion Thule.

Present...

It had been days since the search began and still nothing had come up. They only think they had accomplished was the locating of over twenty illegal residents. All had been intergiated and once it was determined they weren't operatives, they had all been quickly deported from the planet.

Detective Toulin sat at his station desk and sighed gently as he sipped his hot caf. He had been up for over twenty six hours now and still he knew he was missing something. They had to dig deeper or come at it from some other angle. This other angle, however, was hard to come up with.

The detective leaned back in his seat and set down the cup of caf. He ran a hand slowly through his hair and closed his eyes for a bit. Oliver was tired, but he couldn't give up. He knew that whoever had invaded his planet was still out there and conducting his mission. This man or woman had to be caught soon, before something bad happened.

Oliver had closed his eyes for just a few seconds before he heard his name getting called from the other room. He stood up slowly and rubbing his eyes while making his way towards the computer room. It was dark inside and was empty except for one man sitted at a terminal. Everyone had gone home, but this one had stayed to help out. By the smile on the man's face, Detective Toulin knew he had some good news to share.

"What do you have for me?"

Past...

Galactic Gem inc.'s revenues, after Velmor's taxes of course, were sent straight to the Imperial War machine through a series of dummy holding companies, each owning a significant portion of each others.

This company's true colors were never found out, and during the entire conflict they traded on nearly all of the New Republic's major stock exchanges. Later, it's assets were sold off for funding desperately needed by the Empire after being forced into backwater territory, but for now it was going strong.

Galactic Gem inc.'s profits hit record levels within the year after it opened. Huge amounts of gems were shipped across the galaxy, not only fine, perfect ones for jewelry but also denser ones taken from the planet's core, using a newly developed technique.

As it grew, the company branched out. It opened a chain of resorts across beautiful Velmor, since it was a popular tourist planet, and also acquired several large wildlife preserves and allowed hunters to hunt game on them, (or a modest fee of course).

And then, eventually, they even got into the ship building business.

The in the room was not actually a police officer. He was part of Velmor's counterintelligence agency and had been assigned to monitor this case. The man was there just in case something important was found, but the Agency doubted Detective Toulin's assumption was correct. They were far too confident in their abilities to prevent things like this from happening.

Agent Almert Ilonias was a young recuite to the Velmor Security Agency and for this reason had been sent on this assignment. While young and unexperianced, Almert was very observent and very smart. He knew that kind of danger an enemy operative could bring; especially one who has had so much time to work with. It would be horrible to think about an agent from a foreign government infiltrating their government or even their intelligence agency. They had to find this person fast.

Even after days of coming up with nothing, Agent Ilonias, much like Detective Toulin, stayed up all night and day searching files. Almost everyone had given up on the case, but he knew they had to keep digging. It was this sifting through countless computer files that brought Almert to this single file. A profile in which nothing was wrong. A profile that seemingly was perfect. That is unless one looked really really closely.

It was actually his tired state that had brought him to the realization he now had. It was luck pure and simple, but even the best people at their jobs needed luck once in a while.

Almert looked over and gave Oliver a grin as the man walked into the dark computer lab. "I think I have something here. Come take a look. I might be nothing, but it could also be everything."

The detective ran his hand through his hair and moved towards the terminal where Agent Ilonias sat. He looked at the screen and turned towards the agent questioningly. Almert knew it would happen. You couldn't just accuse one of the richest and most well known people on Velmor without such a reaction.

"Thule?? Maxamillion Thule?? You think he's our guy?"

Almert smiled and shrugged a little. "I don't know if he is or not, but I do know if you look at the date on which his profile was filed and recorded into the computer it doesn't match up. The man is over 20 years old, right? So why was this profile file twenty four years ago? He should have background information and a file should have been started on the day he was born, but it wasn't. It seems like this profile just appeared from thin air."

Oliver sat down in the chair, a little taken aback. The young agent was absolutely right. Every natural born citizen of Velmor had files starting from their birth. It was the planet's way of keeping track of everyone for emergancy purposes. This man's profile, however, was non-existant until almost the exact time that metal piece that was now in the lab arrived. It could be a coincidence, but it could also be that his was their man.

"Do a backcheck on his relatives. I'll go call other police departments and see if they have files of people in their district with the same delima." Detective Toulin said as he started to get up.

"Already did Detective Toulin, it doesn't check out either. Their profiles show the same data of admission as Mr. Thule. Like him they have no background records before that data even though their back ground is listed in their profiles. Like I said, somethings not right."

"Good job Agent Ilonias." Oliver smiled and reached for his cafe. "Once I make these calls, we'll see if we can get a meeting set up with Mr. Thule himself."

Past...

Their first ships was a spectacular flop. For months it was seen all over the galaxy in commercials, on billboards, and even on milk cartons.

And then it came out, and was revealed to be an overhyped piece of trash. The VS-100 Light Freighter (VS for Velmor Shipyards) was very similar to the Corellian YT-1300, except it was built with shoddier parts, though it did sport a single blaster cannon in the dorsal position. Yet it still sold for the same price and had only 75% of the cargo space. It died. Quickly.

The next ship wasn't such a failure, the VS-2000 Luxury liner was successful by most standards. While star lines didn't trip over each other to place their orders, she sold well and became a common site in spaceports across the galaxy, as did her cousin, the VS-2001.

The VS-2001 was essentially just a budget version of the VS-2000. Replacing her mass of luxury cabins and casinos were steerage and some more modest entertainment facilities, including a pool and a single movie theatre (2D).

Along with them, a series of Cargo vessels, either based on the VS-2000/2001 frame or using as many of the ships parts as possible to save money on production costs.

While uneager for a repeat of the VS-100 disaster, Velmor Shipyard's CEO (who happened to also be the CEO of Galactic Gem) and the board knew they had to have at least some products on the smaller ship market to gain a foothold. So several smaller ships were put out. The most popular of these was the YT-200 Medium transport. The 50m long transport was extreamly modular, making it useful for many tasks, and was also very cheap even though it was of a high quality, VS not wanting to have another VT-100 on their hands. Less popular was their Hawthorne fighter, which was designed to compete with popular Snubfighters such as the Z-95 and Cloakshape. The Hawthorne was, in fact, a better fighter, using more advanced systems in a slightly more expensive package, and sold well, but could never replace the legondary ships.

The orders poured in.