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  1. 2 points
    Pure pazaak! Pure pazaak? Really? What was this spacer thinking? And why was he programmed to repeat the same phrase before and after every hand? If anyone had to live with this nattering every day, they'd probably have shot the holo in the face a long time ago. Whoever wrote this Rand.exe persona was probably a little loose in the brainpan. Sara stared long and hard at her cards. Her brow sloped closer to her eyes, flattening the faint wrinkles on her forehead and sighed through her nose. Her left hand kept her head from slamming into the metal of her dining table as the hum of her ship kept her idle thoughts at peace. Her other hand kept her bundle of cards from slipping to the table. There was a total of eighteen laid out on the table between three cards. And, in Sara's hand, she had: a plus/minus one, a plus/minus two, and a plus three. She knew she had the game in the bag and one more win would cement her streak. But she didn't see the point. This had been going on for hours. This was barely better than twiddling her thumbs. And if she had not invested in this holo-unit, she would probably be adding to the black marks on the ship's hull barely five feet away. The holo asked for a hit. '3' Pure pazaak! "I SWEAR BY THE FORCE THAT IF YOU…" Sara furiously intoned, clutching her right hand and sending her cards flying all over the floor. Her sweet amber eyes filled with murderous intent. Her thoughts were a hive of aggression and were just about to come to a head when a prick of sensation outside her perceptive bubble belayed the rising tide. Her cheeks flushed and her fist clutched even tighter. But, for the moment, her tirade was done. A loud beeping noise came from her cockpit, accompanied by a subtle groan from her stomach. A lazy glance noticed the hollow bags of rations left open nearby and despite the liquid fury still simmering beneath her skin, she decided there were things more worthy of her attention. Sparing one seething glance for the simulation still in progress, Sara got to her feet, paused to shake out her leg that had fallen asleep, and made her way toward the Luridae's cockpit. "What is it baby? Something good?" Sara cooed as she activated the transmitter on her dash. Her monitor fizzed for a moment before displaying the signal of a ship out in Calamari space. The signal was weak, but it was clearly a distress signal and not a job. Dang… Sara leaned against her ship and wiped her face with an open palm. She looked out at the empty void and lost focus, her gaze drifting toward the stars. "Well, it might be worth checking out." Pure paz-- Faster than she thought possible, fatigue plaguing her for the past few hours, her slug-thrower leaped to her hand and the holo-projector went up in smoke. Wasted creds "Anyway, time to see what this is about." Sara entered the coordinates into her navigational computer and initialized a hyper jump to the area; as close as the drive would take her anyway.
  2. 2 points
    "..Neimodian." The word strangled from a rasping voice, throaty and outlandishly darker than the milieu of the tower. Attention drew to the figure in black, bandaged completely in a robe of shadow, hauntingly poised a few feet behind the one drawn as Nok Morliss. This creature had been tasked to him since the Kuati invasion, digesting behaviors and patterns in the force unfamiliar to those that could not read them. There were no features to scrutinize, nothing to escape the overlapping shadows that clamored about the creature unnaturally. Whatever this thing was, manifested cold insidious energy as if a mirror to the likeness of this place, snarling primordially before the promise of an apprentice. "You mustn't wake what stirsss abovee," the voice slithered across skin, hollow enough to raise hairs. "Not.. just.. yet." The shadow inched closer, as if it floated on the thinnest of air. "You come bearing nothing but flesssh and bone, and that iss what it will rip from you. An offering, young Morlisss, do not sstir the Lord of this place without one." Timely, the sound of scratching and low rumblings, echoed across the barren darkness. "You will find an offering in the waterss of Mon Calamari. Find thisss, and either Spider will be pleaaasssed." The shadow vanished.
  3. 1 point
    Xar sighed as he walked away from the two humans and the ship. “Yes, yes, we will make sure this...Hamilton gives us our...bacta” Xar almost said blue bacta and revealed to anyone listening that he was here for illicit drugs. “Just make sure to have the ship running for us. We would like to charge our batteries when we get back.” And with that, Xar was out of speaking distance. However, he still briefly communicated with the ship, establishing his communications system was connected to the ship’s. Now, if there was an emergency or a problem, at the very least he could call for help. True, it would be Co’bo answering, and Xar wasn’t sure if the pirate would be helpful or not (Xar was half tempted to tell Co’bo to not snort any of the ship’s fumes), but it would be something. Xar glanced around as he passed by through the streets. There were small, spaced out crowds of people, some trying to get around the city to do essential jobs, others trying to sell cleaning products at excessively inflated prices, and some were arguing with security officers about trying to get permission to leave their houses. Apparently there was some kind of virus going about. Perhaps that was why Krexel sent Xar instead of going himself to collect the shipment. Xar chuckled to himself. Perhaps there were advantages to being a droid. No virus would affect him and thus no one would bother... Just as Krexel turned a corner onto a nearly empty street, a large elderly mon calamari suddenly bumped into the droid. The calamari looked horrible to say the least. Its yellow goggled eyes had developed a painful red color from lack of sleep, its rubbery, sagging face had blue spots, especially around the mouth. Xar didn’t need that physical evidence to tell the calamari was having difficulty breathing though. The calamari was breathing and gasping deeply, and clutching its chest in pain. “Please...help me...need medical...” the alien begged, grabbing onto the droid chassis and coughing some translucent liquid onto the metal body. Xar flew into a rage. All the anger built up from the last few days, from hiding for months and avoiding rodians, to being stuck on a desert planet, to being sent to do a low level grunt job by some humans, to this thing touching him so unceremoniously and non consensually, erupted out of him. “You dare?!?” Claws flew out. Pale black ichor flowed out from the chest wound as the being fell onto its back. “You dare touch us? We are your superior! You are unworthy!” Xar stood over the body for a moment, watching the life disappear from the calamari. Then Xar cursed himself. This was not the time to get a dismantle on sight warrant. The droid glanced around, relieved that no one was around to witness the incident. Still, Xar needed to get away. Barely pausing to grab the being’s cred stick, Xar dashed away from the scene. Eventually, Xar found his way into the lower levels. The place was even more empty, and the lighting was a bit more dim with the lack of sunlight hitting the areas. Before Xar were several buildings all connected together, with the center one holding a neon light. It looked more like a nightclub then a cantina overall. The bright red words RAGING REVEN flickered to the nearly empty streets. Nearly empty. In front of the building, several security droids and two calamari officers were standing outside. While Xar was unsure what they were doing, he was sure that it wasn’t good for him or his contact. If this was an arrest or a shutdown, that would spell doom for his mission, and Xar… Xar paused. It was Agent Xar now. If this place was shut down, Agent Xar’s mission would be considered a failure. And that wasn’t allowed. Xar's mind raced. There were only a few light sources nearby, and the natural sunlight couldn’t reach this far down. The security droids looked like older models of the GU series from coruscant, and the officers certainly couldn’t see that well in the dark. And with all the lights connected… The newly appointed Black Sun agent got to work. As he approached the group of droids who were facing the cantina, he was careful not to draw attention to himself. Each step was calculated, avoiding the droids eyesight as well as any potential noisemakers. If he could get the blaster… Xar was now just a step away. One more, then he could claw the security droid, and take its blaster. Creak Xar’s chassis squeaked loudly, residue from the liquid the calamari had coughed on him. He cursed himself as the droid turned around, its blaster rifle whipping about. Not wasting a moment Xar reached and grabbed the blaster. The two wrestled for control of the weapon as the noise began to attract the attenion of the others. However, acquiring the blaster was not Xar's goal. Xar’s claws touched the trigger and made the droid open fire randomly. With a few pulls, Xar aimed the gun towards the power lines, specifically the one with the breaker on it. These droids and security would be blind, and he would have the advantage. As a superior droid should Xar thought to himself, pulling the trigger again and again while wrestling the droid.
  4. 1 point
    "Looks like you owe me a drink, stranger." Dhon is a bit startled as the random woman reveals herself. He looks overs both of his shoulders before turning back towards her with a frown. "And you are?" "Operative Dusk at your service. My name doesn't match, but it works. It was given to me due to how I shine beneath the moonlight... or at least part of it." Dhon mumbles under his breath in response, "Well, I don't know if I'd go that--" "So they tell me that you're here to deliver the belongings of an operative. Which operative do you speak of?" "Listen here, Twilight. First of all, for all I know, you are a tall Jawa with a lisp because well," he motions towards his mouth as he wiggles his index finger. "That definitely doesn't sound that proper basic and obviously you had a hood. So for all I know, you are what Jawas really look like under their hoods and you kick out the midgets of your kind to fend for themselves with their little midget part salvaging colonies... Dhon pauses to think for a second before pulling at the braided hair on his chin, "Come to think of it, I don't think I've ever seen-seen a Jawa. So I might be on to something. Funny thing, though. Get this. The operative I'm referring to was supposedly killed by a Jawa! Crazy coincidence, right!" Dhon shruggles and raises the Mandalorian helmet and wiggles it a little in the air, "Didn't know we had a deep uncover operative working for the Mandalorians. This girl is crazy! Like seriously. But good at her job I take it? She's got this flower name. I keep forgetting it. Hold on a second..." Dhon twists the helmet and looks on the back of the helmet where the former Watcher of the Link left a piece of tape and a name, "Rose Car-eye-Aye-dus. I think I'm pronouncing that right. I don't know what her fancy operative name is but I do have her agent ID number written down on a piece of paper if that helps any." As he finally stops long enough to let the operative speak, Dhon stabs his honor sword into the ground and pulls a small slip of paper out of the utility belt around his waist and offers it to Dusk. The code Ro found and gave him was authentic as far as either of them could tell and it had led them this far, so Dhon is confident that offering the information might help clear up any further questions regarding who this "Rose" person might be. ___
  5. 1 point
    The question jarred at Aidan's concentration, pulling his focus away briefly and causing a slight disruption to their connection. The ship slowly veered slightly off of its safe heading, but as he snapped his attention back to the task at hand he was able to help fix it. "I'm...not sure...valuable ship...probably shouldn't..." It was all he could manage to mutter as he rededicated himself to feeling out the strong gravimetric currents, finding a path of safety among the turbulent cosmic waves. Maybe Kel would have something to say on the matter, but Aidan couldn't afford more than that, lest he risk their entire mission again.
  6. 1 point
    Lok's eyes lit up as soon as the Empire exited hyperspace, the confused look of worry and determination swirling in his gaze as he looked across the bow. It wasn't that long ago that he was on Coruscant, the once famous jewel of the Galaxy no more than a melted gem at the hands of the Sith. And in that moment, his thoughts crossed back to his own homeworld, that of Onderon and the oppression it faced and the likelyhood that it too could one day mimic Coruscant. Turning to Captain Greer, his gaze now fired with anger, he issued orders. "I need Maelstrom and Augustus at Position Felix with the rest of Sentinel at Position Phillip and what's left of Menace at Position Seal." Lok spoke with a stern but calming voice. "And I need them there now." Captain Greer went about relaying the issues, as Lok stood there in silence. As nervous as he was, he could not show it. He had always been a fighter, meeting his combatants face to face. He was no fleet commander and he knew it. But he could let his men around him know it. This was the assignment given to him by his Empress and the Jedi Grandmaster upon his return to Nar Shadaa, and he would not fail them. With a sigh, he grabbed the comm, ordering a direct line be opened with the lead ship, Herløv. "This is Lok Skyshatter of the Imperial Knights." He spoke, reaffirming his tone by letting his memories of Onderon fuel his determination. "By order of the Empress Raven Zinthos, you are entering protected airspace. Cease and desist, and you will be allowed safe passage back to wince you came...." As Lok was speaking into the open comm, the six corvettes began to maneuver and place themselves into position, klaxons aboard each readying each for what could come as ammunitions and ships were prepared in haste. All Lok had to do was give the final order and the Sith Empire would feel the true might of the Zinthos Empire. With an inward sigh, Lok finished. "Remain on course, and you will be fired upon." ******************************************
  7. 1 point
    T̵̢̛͍̥̼̰̱͈̭̤̽̈́̀̈̚h̵͎̔͊̀è̸̘̯̺̭̦̘͍̦̀̎͌͑̀͛̏̕ ̶̝̰̗̳̭̭̏̓͑͂͗̈͂̏̔̕R̴̭̱̦͒͐́͋̀̃̑̅̏̕ę̸͍̂́̀̏͂̑̕͝c̸̘̉͒̿̈́̃̑̀̌k̵̳̻̦̲̞̠̺̽͋̍̌͛̊͜͝ò̴͕̘̼̞̭͓̳̣̓͜ǹ̴̡͇̻̇͂ǐ̶̧̛̼͙͕̬̜̭̋̄̉̈̌͘̕͝n̴̡̻̪̟̲̪͂͒̆͛͘g̴͓̟͚͍̓̒̇̏̍̕͝ ̴̡̨̞̰̱̒͋͌̑̀̾̆̅ḩ̷͓͎̓̋̾͛͗̓̐̿̚a̷̡̩̠̬͑́̄s̵̟̤͚̟̫̙̱̭̄͊̑́̌̍ ̵̛̭̙̜̾́̀͛͝c̸̗̣̼̠̳̼͖͇̒͑̈̌ò̶͙͋͘͝m̴̗̌̇̇́̇͒e̵̠̳͗͊̉̃̓̓̔͑̚͜.̴̪̠̩̃̏̉̎ With minimal warning, the dark mass that was the Kyber class Star Destroyer Herløv and a small cluster of ships proudly bearing the symbol of the glorious Sith Empire on their hulls shot out of hyperspace and into the blackness of realspace. Despite the size of her ship, Qaela's eyes quickly fixated on the truly titanic mass of ancient durasteel that hovered before her fleet. Centerpoint didn't truly hold any direct tactical importance in the grand scheme of things, but it was central to the Twin Worlds of Tralus and Talus which were the weaker of the defended worlds within the Corellian System and would serve as a good launching point to invade the rest of the system. Immediately after reverting from hyperspace, the squadrons of bombers and heavy interceptors began to stream out of the Herløv's launch bay and form up to prepare for their missions. A mixture of dozens of assault shuttles loaded with troops and three score medium sized cargo transports reverted out of hyperspace behind the main fleet moments later and began orienting themselves for a run against Centerpoint Station once the way was determined to be clear. Qaela didn't expect there to be a tremendous amount of resistance on the Station itself, but it needed to be claimed nonetheless because she had a purpose for it. Her troops would blitz the station and its meager defenders, secure its civilian population in Hollowtown, and then use the Station as a rally and launch point for invasions throughout the Corellian System's Five Worlds. The Twins would first fall in one swift action, then the rest. Probes were shot out all around the fleet and Centerpoint Station itself to both scan for hostiles while also coordinating fire control at enemy ships. Qaela wasn't completely experienced in naval combat, but the officers onboard her ship under the command of Captain Geratos were and she wasn't so prideful as to demand control over how the battle proceeded. She had long ago learned what her strengths and weaknesses were and how to use others to fill in the gaps in her ability. When Corellia fell to the Sith, she would receive glory enough to share with those who helped her do so, far more than if she allowed her pride to get in her way and cost the Empire troops, ships, and pride. This was the first move of a strategy she had put together with her commanders. As was more akin to her personal style, it wouldn't rely just on blunt firepower and force as was the wont of the Sith Empire, but rather on deception, guile, and misdirection to keep her enemies at bay and guide them into the slaughter. The Sith would claim the Corellian System one way or another: it would be far better for them if its conqueror was Qaela Darksong rather than the far heavier hand of other Sith Lords. "Take the Station," she ordered calmly. "Slay only those who resist, preserve as much as you can. We are here to add to the Glory of the Empire, not to create pointless destruction. Our Dark Lord wishes a prize to build his Imperial Might, not a pile of molten rubble and ash." Those who fought under her command were carefully selected. The most brutal of the soldiers in the Empire were excluded: she wanted only those who shared her own vision of building a mighty empire under the confines and philosophy of The Balance and who could restrain themselves. There was no glory hunting among her officers: all was for the Empire and the greater good of the Sith Order. She stood calmly on the bridge of her ship waiting the results of the scans and probes as to what she would be facing.
  8. 1 point
    “There's something out there.” Yava, said coolly, as she studied the sensors on the bridge. “What? No chance, who would be stupid enough to-” the Twilek responded “We shoud just leave, I mean what's he going to-” the mechanically inclined Trandoshan chimed in. Kajun had been hesitant to resist Kern, but the situation had clearly changed. “We leave him and we'll be running from the Sith for the rest of our lives. I don't know about you but I like not being tortured to painful slow death. You weren't there when they invaded Coruscant, trust me serving them is far better then not.” Yava said, remembering the awful image of the murderous rampages from years before. “Now shut up, both of you.” Yava said to two crew as they went about repairs. She hit the comm button on the command chair to send the signal as she'd been instructed. “We picked our side already. There's a ship out there alright, and it's probably jedi. Shut off all power except shields and life support, that will give us time-” She instructed quickly. “But what good will-” Twilek barked back. “Well it might... It'll lower our power signature. With any luck the radiation of the cluster will blind them to our presence. And if they do scan us she wants them to see a barely functioning ship with no weapons and little defenses, no threat to them.” Kajun said as Yava began making adjustments. “Fine, remember a few days ago when we were just running illegal spice.” The Twilek said as he left the bridge. “If they think were in league with Kern the jedi will kill us, just a little faster.” the old Trendoshan said worriedly. “Just do your job. Kern has a few surprises for them, and he's promised me this whole damn ship when we're done, I'm not about to screw this up.” Yava said feelingly slightly sorry for the fools that would dare cross Kern. --- Baron Kern listened intently standing in his simple Keshiri armor and mask that covered his face save his eyes which remained temporarily exposed. He heard the old man prattle on about his minions and his dominion over the vessel. It took him a moment to consider the words, and take in the breadth of his abilities. The control of corpses was a neat trick, but it wasn't the grand mastery that it appeared to be. The tendrils of the darkside that animated the forms was a simple mimicry. Though if you wish to serve a Dark Lord, there are treasures enough here that you may have. Kern was silent for a moment as the old man stopped speaking. Then he let out a small chuckle, it slowly turned into a boisterous hearty belly laugh, that finally became a roaring torrent of amusement. “I'm... sorry, are you finished?” Kern said after a moment. “I just didn't expect-” He said trying to compose himself. He casually dropped the satchel he carried on the ground, and turned away from the old man to look at his 'servants'. “You are entertaining... truly, but you don't frighten me. You are but a toothless old sage roaring at the volcano as it rumbles in the distance. You don't know what is coming for you.” Kern said as he tapped a button on his sleeve, activating a trap that he'd set in the landing bay area remembering mention of the arrival of others. Kern shook his head slowly as he folded his arms in disgust. After a moment, the closest servant of the archivist suddenly ceased up, it's body contorting in different unnatural ways, powered by Kern's own manipulations... until finally the darkside ripped the body apart as it screeched, scattering it's bits to the far corners of the massive room as pieces dark red and black viscera now the only signs of it's former existence. The display of power was a simple warning. The darkness here had amplified his power, making it far easier to call upon the force to do his bidding. “Your 'legion' is pathetic. Send them...send ten times there number, and I could still cleave that bulbous block you call a head from your shoulders before you can mouth the word 'mercy'. You've captured a vessel? How quaint. Truly a triumph. I have bathed in the blood of myriad upon myriad who thought to resist me. I have broken more beings then you have dreamt of. I need no vast array of mindless undead minions to do my bidding.” Kern announced. His will was focused, his goal in sight, his entire being ready to accomplish his task. He turned back to the man with eyes as red as the molten core of Kesh itself. It was a flash at the raw power at his beckon call, a deep seething cauldron of hatred that emanated from a place darker then any black hole, Kern himself. He walked past the zombified beings with sullen confidence. He heard a small beep in his helmet, finally, he had expected guests. “Now, as for the jedi? I have felt there coming since before I arrived here, my entire voyage has been foreordained. Do you imagine that you are the only one with vision and means? You think you know Darkness? Pure arrogance. The Sith ARE darkness. Powers vast, unknowable, and unsympathetic have brought me here, and you dare stand in MY way? In the way of the Sith? Pure Folly.” Kern said with a clear promise. His anger rising as he spoke. Threats were for lesser beings, Kern did not threaten. “The holocrons' are mine, and when the Jedi arrive, I will deal with them in my own inimitable way. If you assist in handing this vessel to the Sith, you will be accommodated, possibly rewarded. Resist... or attempt to intervene and you will be punished.” Kern said as he walked towards the holocrons that loomed before him, fascinated by their appearance. He could almost hear the recordings held deep within, ancient knowledge of Sith ways and methods that would pave his way to power beyond measure.
  9. 1 point
    As Kel gazed at the maw, Kel couldn't help but be reminded of his home world of Dorin. much like that dry dust bowl he once called home, their objective was precariously placed between a set of black holes. His astromech companion R5, sounded off a set of beeps and trills. "No R5, I think navigating this will be a tad trickier than the Dorin run." before beginning our approach master sandy instructed Kel to operate the shields to protect us from the maw's high levels of radiation. "Yes, master." Kel turned to his station and began operating the levers and dials of the shield generator "R5, divert power from non essential systems to the shields." the astromech then moved to a nearby terminal and began operating the ship's power grid via scomp link. several of the ship's lights turned off leaving only low power led lights for certain areas. "Whatever you're about to do, do it fast. our shields won't last forever."
  10. 1 point
    SKULLCLAMP. Sentient memory is a marvelous but fallacious instrument. The memories which lie within us are not carved in stone; not only do they tend to become erased as the years go by, they often change. Surrender them here, and eternity is yours. Affiliation: Sith Empire Manufacturer: Ancient Krath Power Source: The Dark Side Size: 10 Centimeters Composition: Sith Steel, Sith Alchemy Type: Dark Artifact / Unique Description The artifact mechanically harvests the mind of the wearer when they're alive, and retains it in death. Function While wearing the skullclamp, you can access the memories of the last creature to die while wearing it. If a creature dies wearing a skullclamp, all of their memories are stored in the artifact, and can be accessed by the next wearer. A skullclamp only contains the memories of the most recent creature to die while wearing it. If you are killed while wearing the skullclamp, your memories replace the previous set that it had recorded.
  11. 1 point
    Krexel & Co'bo Krexel brieflt smiled when he saw Xar exit, the elder Onderonian's facial expressions and waving of his hand quickly dismissing the Droid's worry about the cloning outpost. With a chuckle, he replied. "Aye. But they haven't met ol' Swaav yet either." Behind Krexel Co'bo chuckled and added his own brief two cents. "The old man is one of them wizards. Blind as a bat but can see a Greater Krayt at a thousand kilometers." Krexel slapped Co'bo on the back of the head with partial disbelief at his counterpart. "Shush. You know he doesn't like bringing up his past and you know he can hear you even here." "Forgive my compatriot. Easily excitable, but bad manners." Krexel apologized to Xar, the uneasiness evident in his shifting of his weight. "Are you finished with the registrar? If so, I just recieved updated orders. We're going to get a brief retreat from this hell hole and enjoy some sea air. You up for it?" Tusker & Swaav Tu'can'ra smirked at the Blue Rose Swaav was obsessed with as she spoke, seeing the Warrior's spirit within the woman but also a hint of loyalty. It was no wonder her status as an Agent was still active. Her gaze shifted to Swaav briefly before turning back to Rru and then to Rose. "I understand. That decision is solely upon both of your shoulders then and either way I will respect the outcome." She spoke, hesitant to choose her words wisely given her counterpart's reactions toward her lately over the woman before. Not that she feared him, but caution was a step one must always tread lightly upon when it came to matters of the heart, especially given their situation. Her gaze shifted to Rru as she finished. "I have returned her to you, just as promised. But if the two of you do join the Black Sun, you must tame the wildness within you. The Galaxy is larger than Tatooine and not as forgiving." With that said, she turned to Swaav, and with a bow briefly excused herself as the blind one briefly grabbed her arm in departure. "Co'bo is blabbing about my past again. Be a dear and correct him for me." The old one whispered before turning to Rose and Rru. Reaching out with his hand, he summoned the Armor for Rose to his hands and handed them over and he turned his blind gaze to Rru specifically. "The Tusken is right, my lad. Here, on Tatooine, your kind are Kings. But out there, amongst the stars, you are no more than a wild animal. Act like one, and it will put you down like one." His gaze shifted and he winked at Rose. "Careful with this one. He may be like your people, but his spirit is more primordial."
  12. 1 point
    Ban scratched his grizzled chin. He wanted to help her, and Kari was a very enjoyable person to spend his travels with. But the way of a Kosai was nomadic, abandoning most attachments in service of the Force. His path dictated that he leave his destination more or less to fate. "I mean, I guess I was asking more for you than for me. Kosai need to be on the move. We fix a problem here, we move to the next place. It was the will of the Force that brought me here, but I'm not positive that's where it wants me to necessarily continue on with you. I'm sorry." He took another last bite of the fish, and gathered his things. "If you drop me off at the nearest spaceport, I should be fine." ((I completely forgot I hadn't dropped a post. Definitely needed the whip.))
  13. 1 point
    Nok whirled. The voice, where was it coming from?! His fear ratcheted up, but he couldn’t see it, couldn’t sense it. Where...what was it? There. Something. A distortion, a warping, a fracture, a thread, a tangle. Something. The list. Telekinesis. Extrasensory perception. Healing. Energy projection. Suggestion. Consciousness manipulation. In his research of the Jedi and Sith, Nok had found the reports of several scientists who looked to categorize all that a Force sensitive could do. They’d analyzed reported feats, verified and checked against footage and data from the Clone Wars, and compiled a list. Nok had read each of them, and had been confident he’d understood all the Force was capable of, all it could offer him. But this… Sorcery. There had been mention of Sith sorcerers. Millennia old legends, fanciful tales of dark figures wielding unholy power. It had all been so clearly propaganda and hyperbole. Now Nok wasn’t so sure of himself. This is real. Not illusion, not a trick. Something more. Nok listened to the creature, the words carrying a weight beyond crude sound. Mon Calamari? Then it was gone. It hadn’t left, it was just not there anymore. Nok’s brisk pace as he walked out of the tower was one part fear and one part excitement. Moving objects with his mind and swinging a sword around. Controlling the weak minded and electrocuting the strong. The goals he’d planned now seemed so...small. Pathetic. Like a child given a planet-sized supercomputer and using it to play Dejarik. There was so much more. If anything of what he’d read regarding the ancient Sith sorcerers was true, then the limits of what he could accomplish through the Force were vaster than he had ever imagined. There might not even be limits. As he boarded The Bleeding Edge, he felt as if he stood on the edge of a bridge, a bridge thousands of Jedi and Sith had crossed to reach power. Below, the dark void rushed past, and it promised to swallow any and all alike who swam its depths. Nok would jump. And he would make it his.
  14. 1 point
    The ship around Xar shifted and groaned as its engines worked to land softly in what felt like unsteady ground. The droid peered from his hidden compartment, a little peephole the only way to see anything in the storage area. It was still dark and cramped with boxes upon boxes of miscellaneous items. Nothing had changed. But the ship was landing. Silently the droid nodded to itself, satisfied with the change of events. It had been getting annoyed with its cramped quarters. Xar had spent so much time observing the organics with his now gone drones, planning on how to escape, slicing computer terminals to plant data and erase camera footage, and sneaking onto a cramped ship that carried only some spare machine parts that wouldn’t notice a little extra weight. Xar sighed to itself, its three voice boxes making an odd harmony with itself. So close to getting free. Footsteps. Xar peered out again. A large rodian had entered the storage area, and was using a cable to move some of the heavy crates, digging to one of the sealed crates on the floor. Xar observed curiously. Why was the rodian moving the crates? There was nothing of note in the ship’s manifest. No matter. Xar had enough of this. He wanted out. And the Rodian was in leaping range. With a surge of energy, Xar pushed on the wall that contained his cramped body. A clang of metal. A whir of motors moving into action. A look of fear and surprise. A scream suddenly cut short, following by choking. Xar stood over the dying creature in silence. As the rodian gasped for air through its sliced throat, the Hunter Trainer droid looked over the blood stained claws and gave out a sigh. “Organic lubricant...so…” Xar paused to find the right word. “...execrable. We despise such ichor.” Without acknowledging the rodian’s dying breaths, Xar wiped his claws on the victim and moved to the crate. Xar lifted up the lid to reveal numerous small containers filled with orange and blue powders. “Spice” Xar muttered, its three voices all alike in recognition. This ship was smuggling illegal spice with its scrap metal. And from the looks of it, a quite rare kind. Not Ryl but almost just as good. Xar looked at the now dead rodian. “Clever. We are impressed, though you should’ve covered this with something in case of inspection. Then again, out here on Tatooine means no inspections...” Xar reached down and grabbed the rodian’s data pad. A quick hack to get past a password, and Xar was surfing through the data. While the data didn’t show the spice on the manifest, knowing about the spice might clear up some information. Like why a ship from Rodia would bring a load of scrap metal, some blasters and bacta to such a dust ridden, resource-lacking, worthless planet like Tatooine. Xar sighed at one line of data. “Must be delivered in person. Do not be late. Only hand bacta and special materials to KREXEL VIDEL. Payment upon arrival. ” The shipment should have been out of the ship by now. If Xar didn’t hurry, the ship might have gangsters or worse onboard soon. And the ship needed fuel before launching again. A moment later, Xar stepped out the ship, data board in one hand and the crate of illegal spices and some bacta behind him on a hovercart. The droid’s green chassis sparkled under the twin suns above. Somewhere nearby the roaring of a tuskan could be heard. Xar sighed again as he looked around. Such a horrible place. Still, this had to be done. Xar couldn’t have people trying to track his ship so soon after leaving Rodia. A short distance away Xar could see a few beings. One of them matched the description of this Krexel. Approaching the beings, Xar spoke out, all three voices trying to sound intimidating and gruff. “Attention: Mr. Krexel Videl. We are Xar, with your delivery.” Silently, Xar prayed that there were no unwritten special instructions for the delivery. He had rewritten the manifest to have his name instead of the rodian pilot who was bled out in the cargo bay, but beyond that there wasn’t much he could do. Except maybe wipe his bloodied claws off a bit more, but time was money right now.
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