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About Frond

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  1. Without much argument, even if they did not fully agree, our adventurers agreed to at least loosely follow the premise of the plans the Mandalorians had laid out. It was far better than sitting in the dark wondering what was happening. Even if they were still locked on the Lido Deck behind opaqued transparisteel doors and walls that were all but begging for one of the adventurers to test out their new toys. Elsewhere on the ship, things were going no better. In fact, things seemed to be getting worse and worse. blasterfire rang freely, the flash of muzzles mingling with the pale glow of hyperspace outside were all that seemed to illuminate the darkness of the ship. Seemingly vacant hallways were actually filled with passengers and crew alike as they took cover from the reigning chaos. Money did a lot to instill a sense of power, but money did not necessarily impart courage. Those who could hide were hiding, mostly; if they weren't gunned down where they stood. Some of the most elite had their own personal security forces that were escorting their charges to their staterooms, preparing to hole up for the duration of the chaos while their masters minds were on only two things. The first was safety. The second was how to take the owners of this ship t task for every last credit they were worth and then more! ((You'll each be receiving a PM with more info to incorporate into your own posts. Well done thus far!))
  2. An encrypted holospace transmission is redirected from Borleais to Sandy Sarna's vessel.
  3. There in the cool stillness of the deactivated ship, Frond's mind swam in the endless seas of The Force, he sought to connect with his brother, Kel Koon. Even as he knew that The Force was capable of such things, a portion of Frond's soul doubted that he possessed the willpower to make such a connection happen. When a sudden spark of energy lurched between the two distant bodies, binding them as one in the moment, Frond was pleased, if not somewhat surprised. He stood, a sentinel, watching as his own hand, guided by an outside force deftly flew over the console activating the ship. Kel Koon, he smiled, as the interior lights of the dimly lit cockpit came on with the hum of engines and equipment all around him. Frond allowed his gratitude to flood through the connection towards Kel for his assistance. Frond still did not know how to fly the ship, but at least he was taking a step forwards to finding Ficcabin Yule and the worm that had taken him. As the ship finished booting up, Frond looked down at the console, a blipping light indicated that something was leaving the planet. Not being versed in starship communications or technology as a whole, Frond had no way of knowing that he was watching the ship's sensors alert him to a ship leaving the planet, much less that it was that belonging to Nok Morliss. Still, Frond felt a faint sense that Ficcabin Yule was drawing further and further away from him. He had told Kel, but would the other Jedi listen to another apprentice? If his knowledge of the Jedi of old was correct, padawans and the like were sometimes paid little heed depending on who might be listening and how attuned the receiver ws to the will of The Force. "Stone falls in silence A single ear is needed The message is heard" he mused to himself as he stared down at the console, willing a solution to present itself. by The Force's will it did. a blinking light illuminated itself and like a curious youngling, Frond was a little too eager to depress the flashing blue button. What played next was the message that summoned all Jedi to Borleais, as it played out, Frond nodded listening. He had other things to worry about at the moment, but if anything it was good to know. As the message ended, a warm smile crossed Frond's face. he did not need to know much about technology to understand what the small 3-dimensional blued figure was saying. All he needed to do was press the same button again to send a response. True, Frond was not sure who it would go to, but it was another means of communicating with the world outside of his ship. Pressing the button, Frond stared at where the hologram had been moments before, before he spoke, trusting in the will of The Force to deliver his message to the right people.
  4. Outside the massive luxury liner, a singular ship had begun to ascend to the ship before it had even fallen out of hyperspace. The entirety of the plan was proceeding without a flaw. Once docked to a loading port near the secondary kitchens, a massive durasteel crate was offloaded from the small cargo tug. The steel was icy cool to the touch and perspired greatly as it came into contact with the warm air of the ship’s belly. A trio of nondescript s humanoids in navy blue uniforms with zero identifying marks and rebreathers gently guided the gravsled carrying the enormous crate down the cramped dim hallways. The movements of the trio were pristine. They moved with caution and grace, careful to not topple the cargo or bump into anything. The corridors and turbolifts that the group used were all remarkably empty. Each hallway they made resulted in a single click of a datapad on the sled, sending the associated cameras into a feedback loop of empty hallways. Those on the bridge, unconcerned with true security, were unlikely to notice. As far as they were concerned, they had stopped for repairs. The only member of the bridge that knew any different was the captain, and she was used to not talking. In a matter of minutes, the hefty durasteel crate was deposited gently into a large walk-in freezer. The only shipside staff member that even saw the transpiring events was a certain Zabrak who was nursing a rather wicked broken nose. Through the pain, he smiled, “Now get your shebs out of my galley! Bad enough I gotta give up an entire freezer for this poodoo, but supervising the wannabe GenoHaradan. . .” Gimpy Marx The Grouch shooed the three strangers away as soon as the freezer door hissed shut, the security panel buzzing and blinking green and then red to indicate that it was secure. The sound of large bolts sliding into place an unneeded reassurance for the head chef. Within minutes, the boarders were back aboard their ship and disconnecting from The Sorcerer’s Light. The entire operation had taken less than ten minutes. For those who chanced to be staring out a window towards the planet they would see the streaking light of the vessel as it rocketed off around the dark side of the sickly yellow sphere floating before them. Aboard the bridge, the captain would have smiled, had she been the organic type willingly and unwittingly controlled by emotions. Instead, she simply noted that the package was secure. “Time to go,” she whispered to herself. Her crew knew better than to ask questions, they were paid well for their skills, their abilities, and most importantly their willful ignorance. ______________________________ Back aboard the Lido Deck, the alabaster hair and skin of the woman standing before our intrepid adventurers did not even flush as she was peppered with a range of emotions and responses. She should have expected this. It was not the first time the crew she had been assigned to brief were unwillingly unknowing in what they were expected to do. Oh well, it was all part of the job. The group before Claire Clarvont was a rather intimidating lot and one that looked rather out of place already on this luxury cruise. With an audible sigh she chose to not answer any of the questions that peppered her. Instead she waved a small DUM-Series pit droid out from within a vacant spa. The small droid pushed a gravcart that looked as if it should contain hot towels and perhaps a few beverages. With the traditional scurry of their kind, the droid wheeled the hovering cart over to the bleached woman. Popping the lid with a hydrosealed hiss, Claire angrily reached into the chest, throwing the lid off with a clatter to the floor. “Oy!! Walking corpse! I suggest you get your angular booty back here. You might need this.” and with that she hefted a rather massive, unwieldy looking gray rifle out of the box and sent it airborne before it clattered to the ground equidistant between her and the retreating Givin. Followed closely behind was a roughhewn bag that clattered with the clank of metal on metal as it too hit the ground beside the mysterious oddly exotic looking firearm. “but if you’d rather leave it. Be my guest,” she waved diminutively as she turned to face the rest of the group, her voice dropping several degrees in pitch and temperature. “Look. I do not have all the answers you want. My job is to tell you what your job is and to make sure you succeed. I do NOT,” she jabbed an angry a finger at Karys, ” know who it is that is employing you. MY EMPLOYER is EnAnAm Enterprises. You’ll all get paid what the full price of a ticket would normally be had you not been given the ticket FOR FREE.” Turning her eyes to scan the group she continued, “I highly doubt any of you have that kind of financial freedom as you currently set. And I would not worry about going planetside, you boys and girls might be too frail for that. Your employer has seen it fit to leave you aboard the ship, but not without preparing you.” Placing her foot on the edge of the cart, she pushed, tipping it over and sending a large amount of exotic and highly illegal bits of weaponry and equipment clattering to the pool decking. A variety of grenades, disruptor-based weapons, a few lightsabers and a few other illegal and/or exotic weapons came into view. Bending over, the woman picked up a file disc and with the flick of her wrist sent it frisbeeing through the air towards the silent medical droid. “Slicer programming. You might be needing it robopants. As for the rest of you, if you haven’t smuggled aboard what you might need to make you feel secure aboard such a dangerous place as this ship, I suggest you strap up. Money, guns, and all the free booze you can or cannot handle. What is the problem?” her smile and pleasant voice returned as easily as her warm eyes. “Just don’t go off and shoot some of the guests. They’d take offense to that. I am relatively sure that a certain Hutt has brought his own security force aboard. Scans indicate that they too have smuggled aboard a large array of weaponry. Shipboard security is more of a show of farce than a show of force. Money talks and my friends. . . You ain’t got it.” At that moment, on the bridge, calculations were completed and Captain Delcee gave the order. With the slightest lurch, The Sorcerer’s Light rocketed back to hyperspace, the cruise was back on track! . . .or was it? It did not take but a moment, as Claire surveyed the adventurous group before them, “All that matters is that you have been recruited, albeit potentially against your will, to handle a seemingly relatively simple task. Keep the cargo secure in the freezer. If I were you, I’d post a sentry.” She pointing a dismissive finger at Query, “Then maybe you can enjoy your vacation. If something comes up, he can comm you.” Digging into her pocket, Claire produced a handful of access cards that would allow the group to access almost anywhere aboard the ship, save for the bridge, and the shipboard comms. ”If that is all I trust that none of you have any more . . .” Before she could finish her sentence, the bright overhead lights flickered and with a clunking sound that radiated throughout the entire ship the lights went out. In an instant, the ship was plunged into complete and total darkness. The only light provided by the streaking blue lights of hyperspace outside the windows and transparisteel. “Maybe I have just one. . .” At that same moment, a chilling wave of fear seemed to echo throughout the entirety of the ship. For those who were blessed or cursed enough to be able to tap The Force on anything more than a primal instinctual level ((read force sensitive)) the darkness was something even more. It was ancient. It was icy. It was unnatural. ______________________________ And while the Lido Deck remained bathed in complete silence for the moment, elsewhere aboard the ship the same could not be said. Even as the lights went out, so did, it seems, the power to the rest of the ships’ myriad of systems and facilities. Darkness and silence were overcome by screams of fear as all across the ship passengers and employees erupted into chaos as they ran every direction, trampling one another, upsetting tables, and grabbing for loose credits at the Sabacc tables. Security was ill prepared to deal with the onslaught that had suddenly overcome the vessel. In minutes, blasterfire rang out all across the ship, adding to the confusion. ______________________________ “I think your job just got a bit tougher. If you will excuse me, I need to check in with the bridge.” With that Claire Clarvonte scurried away into the darkness. ______________________________ In the silence of the Lido Deck our intrepid heroes and villains were left to their own devices, save for those splayed across the floor along the edge of the main pool; but even there, the chaos had not left them untouched. The dark presence seemed to swirl in the suddenly still air, uncirculated by the shipwide air processing system. Some might even swear they heard a maniacal cackle radiating through The Force and then it was gone; present, but not prodding, moving along the dark lines of chaotic fear and terror that now circulated freely throughout the ship. Once account was taken for those present, it would appear that the celebrity combatant, Nostro Kraven had been overcome by fear, illness, or some other form of invisible and/or microscopic attacker. He lay there sprawled in his deck chair, his mouth hanging wide open, a single strand of spittle starting to trace its way down his chin, his eyes wide and unblinking as he stared off into the dark nothingness before him, seeing nothing, overcome by an absolute paralytic sense of fear. He had been touched, but by what? ((The Adventure truly begins!! I have discussed with Pheristroch and Ficcabin the equipment they were given. For the rest of you, feel free to grab a fun toy (of your choice) from the upset cart. Use your imagination. The more illegal the better! Your benefactor really does have his connections doesn’t he?))
  5. Frond stood an ageless sentinel. The visions that his friend showed him he had witnessed countless times; the fall of countless Jedi and Force users written with the same pen in the same script. Passions and desire drew those who would otherwise have dedicated themselves fully to the light into the dark swirling mysterious maw of the false reality that made up the world around them. "Pebbles to the sea Sinking and swirling around The Force chooses ends” He spoke, his words slow and layered in a sense of calm, as he stood alongside his old friend. He could feel the sadness and emotional frailty that echoed from his friend. Frond knew the desire; it was similar to his own. The Sith were the heralds of the dark side. Their mere existence tainted the balance of The Force. The only difference between them was that Tobias’ desires were born from a personal desire and Frond’s from an existential calling. Their gals were the same. The dark side needed to be brought to heel. Frond watched as his friend began to pack his belongings, speaking of his internal sense of failure. He could not help but feel a pang of the man’s loss. He did not want to see his friend throw his life away needlessly. “Waters upon stone Crashing eternal waves Invisible wear Stones explode with fire Destructions force eternal Join this crusade friend” Even as Tobias’ aura in The Force began to tense and harden, a feeling Frond had come to know as the hardening of one’s will in preparation for conflict, Frond’s mind remained calm. He wanted to help his friend, and his very presence in The Force conveyed the same. While Tobias may have felt that he was preparing for battle and Frond could sense that conflict was inevitable, he refused to pursue it with the abandon that the younglings of the galaxy did. Even while the Jedi armies had clashed with the Sith and Black Sun forces of evil, Frond had been decidedly absent. Sure, he would occasionally surface to throw a newfound Force-based ability at their dark side wielding foes; a test of his master plan, he would vanish just as quickly. He rarely was forced to activate his saber. Truth be told, he did not desire to clash in hand-to-hand combat with the Sith. Even less so did he desire to cross blades with his old friend. "Gravity stops all Falling to ground defeated Tobias stop now” Setting his rooted feet shoulder width apart, Frond stepped to block the path down the mountain. He would not allow Tobias to destroy himself. The Force was not done with him. Frond was called here by The Force to this place at this time. He would stop Tobias and bring him back to the light. He had to. The Force could not allow another to fall to the side of the dark. Frond would return the balance. Reaching into an opening knothole, Frond withdrew the smooth wooden hilt of Nightbreak. The hilt sat deactivated in his one good hand. Even now, he desired to not activate the weapon. He hoped that he could bring this situation to a positive end without conflict. He would be a fool though to not be prepared for the inevitable. He would not, however, instigate the battle that was to come.
  6. After their ship had settled, the ancient tree-like Neti, Frond and his comrade, Ficcabin Yule the Givin, made their way to the prefabricated structure. The air between the two was silent and somber. What they had been through was nothing that words could express. In fact, putting it into words would cheapen the sacrifices the duo had both made and undergone on their latest adventure. A Padawan and a hopeful, they had done and seen things that even some of their more experienced Jedi companions had not. They had faced the Sith and survived. Shuffling forward, the only sound was the rustle of Fronds leafy cloak as it flowed behind him. In just a matter of a short time the duo were shuffling through the first two halls. Frond's eyes took in the huddled masses, felt the nervous energy that mingled with a faint sense of hope, yet he did nothing to acknowledge or engage it. Instead, he moved through it, an island of calm warmth in the restless wind-tossed seas. An aura of sadness accompanied the Mind Walking Jedi, he had spent eons removed from the flowing tides and ripples of the galaxy The Force had placed him in. Yet, now, here he was. He knew what he had to do. The Force had willed it so. That was the only reason he had even considered coming. Before making his way upstairs, he turned to Ficcabin and offered a warm smile that did not stretch to his sad eyes, lost somewhere in the cavity that had once been his nose. "Leaves tumble with wind Rough Swords of swirling chaos An army of Light" Waving his one remaining hand out towards the amassed followers of the light side, before he turned and made his way upwards into the Hall of a Thousand Lights. Arriving, Frond noted that there were a few other, presumably, Jedi gathered in small groups at the scattered edges of the room. He did not recognize any of them; but he could feel their presence in The Force, some calm, some seeking to suppress their aniety at the things that wee inevitably to come in the dark days that lay ahead for the Jedi Order. All of that he felt and brushed aside. It was not why they were here. Ficcabin Yule had expressed his interest in seeing the gathering of the so-fabled Jedi, and Frond, knowing his calling, had opted to accompany the young Givin. He had two reasons; firstly his skills at operating a starship were laughable at best; secondly, he hoped to discover others that would be willing to help drive the darkness that tilted the balance of The Force back towards the center, away from the precarious balancing act it now shifted in, growing more and more unbalanced with each passing day. Making his way to the center of the room, Frond stopped and closed his eyes. He reached out even further with his mind. He hoped that his brother Kel Koon and the Jedi that trained him, Sandy Sarna, would be there. He searched for them, just as he searched for the recognizable invisible vibrating golden line that was any of his fellow force users that he had come to know in his brief time as a student of the Jedi. Even amongst all of these beacons of light, some grayer than others, Frond could feel the darkness. it pressed in like an ever present flood seeking a crack in which to seep. Reaching inwards, a knothole opened in the wooden mans chest, from it he removed the heft of smoothly polished wood and held it in his hands. He could feel the presence of the crystals within as their desires clashed against his own. Darkness and hunger, they only served to further cement the Neti to the cause of balance and to the light. As he reached out looking for his friends, Frond knew that he might have to await their arrival. If there was any one thing a Neti was gifted at, it was being patient. ((Parts with Ficcabin Yule posted with permission. This is considered to have happened after the rescue of Ficcabin Yule from the Sith Nok Morliss, which is still being led up to in the main RP.))
  7. There, at the lifeless bridge of the Jedi vessel, Frond stood. His eyes were not looking down onto the console. They were staring, unseeingly, beyond any that which was mortal before him could see. Frond's mind still held in its eye the warm light of Kel Koon, lightyears away amongst the warm lushness of Felucia. Even as he reached out to his brother, Frond knew that he had connected; not in words, but Frond felt a sense of peace vibrate along the invisible golden strand that connected he and his brother. Help was to come. All he would need to do was wait. As for Ficcabin, Frond could still sense him, enshrouded by the hungering grotesque darkness that he had fallen into. A small part of the Neti, a part that he would not speak of or bring forth to be examined in the daylight, felt a pang of remorse. he had propositioned the young Givin and brought him along. This was to be a simple venture to save souls in need. Now, Frond felt, this reality The Force had placed him in was even darker than it had been. In his quest to balance The Force, the ancient tree had only served to cause its misbalance to tip further towards the point of no return. Ficcabin was a youngling yet, not yet committed to the darkness or to the light. In many ways, Ficcabin Yule, was what Frond had once been. That thought drove home deep into his heartwood, deeper than the Sithling's blade had dug when it pierced and carved through his face. Awash in the tidal surges of The Force, Frond knew one thing clearly, be it the will of The Force, his own will, or something else; he would not allow Ficcabin to fall to the dark madness that now swaddled him. Blinking, the console of the ship swam back into view. Frond's mind was still lost on another plane of The Force; but he could bring his focus to bear enough that he could look down on the controls. He could still feel Kel Koon's mind beside his own. As much as it pained him to admit it, he, Frond the mighty Neti Mindwalker, needed help. "Boulder on the ledge A breath sends it rolling downward Kel see through my eyes" The words flowed from his mouth in a hushed whisper. Frond's eyes focused on the lifeless controls before him. Even as he spoke, he willed his words to carry forth across the cosmos to his brother, Kel Koon. If only he would be able to see that which Frond's eyes took in, perhaps he would, in some small way, be able to offer guidance on how one might activate the ship and pursue their fallen comrade. THe calm aura that Frond so carefully nestled himself in waivered as his emotions for what he had allowed the young Givin to fall into did what even the Sith had not been able to. It cracked, and across that invisible connection, his emotions gave that extra push to propel his words and sight onwards; onwards to Kel Koon.
  8. All across the ship, the soothing mechanized voice was largely ignored by the wealthy and upper crust. Why would any of them want to attend such a seminar? Not when there were so many better things to do. Such a seminar was only for those who had to worry about where their money came from, or where it went. So far, so good, the cruise was progressing along without anything but a minor hitch. There seemed to have been some sort of minor disturbance in one of the ship’s upper-end cantinas. It appeared that shipboard security had taken care of the problem with little hassle. Atop the bridge, Captain Delcee scanned the report as it flashed across her screen. With an audible sigh she shook her head, moves she had picked up from her observation of so many over-stressed, over-taxed, and over-paid organic crewmembers. In her mind, the best crew was made up entirely of mechanized lackeys smart enough to outpace their biologic counterparts, but just below her soaring abilities and intellect. These crew members are being paid for what exactly? With a swipe and the click-clack of a few keys, Captain Delcee sent an order down from above rectifying the mistake. She would not have these over-muscled under-brained security staff screwing up the orders of their employer. Even if they never knew what it all was. Captain Delcee knew that the beings set to attend the seminar in the Lido Deck were there for a purpose. ”Whatever it is they are doing.” _________________________________________ Below, in the very bowels of the ship, the brig of the Sorcerer’s Light was nestled between a storage room full of extra linens, a necessity for all the soiled and stained bed sheets and table cloths scattered about the ship, and a secondary machine room with accesses to the aged massive sublight engines that powered the ship when not hurtling through hyperspace. It was hidden far from view of any of the paying customers that wandered and frolicked all around the ship. The clangy metallic walkway rang down the hallway as the booted feet of a duo of overly heavily armed security guards drug the form of amnesiac Jedi master towards the brig and tossed him in a cell. At the sole desk of the cramped security center that would have looked better in a Tatooine-western , a single human security guard sat, his black boots propped up obscuring the holoscreen. His face was buried in a smaller transportable and clearly personal holoviewer. Without even looking up, he waved at the duo, spinning his finger, indicating that they needed to turn around. ”Orders from the bridge. You’re supposed to escort the prisoner to the Lido Deck. Report back here afterwards. You know the drill. No paperwork.” And without even a glance up at Sanguine, he returned his full focus to the gourmet cooking show he was streaming. With a sigh and an exchange of knowing looks, the guards turned around. “Looks like it is your lucky day nerfnut. Just remember, let’s try to avoid any more situations eh?” He let his words trail off, the threat hanging in the air as clear as the tribarrelled disruptor pistol that hung at his waist. Making their way back along the more desolate behind-the-scenes employees only walkways, the duo of security droids found their way to the Lido Deck. The once-Jedi draped between them. A bit gruffer than needed they deposited him into a reclined chair by the pool. “Remember. No more shenanigans or we put you out the airlock . . .” _________________________________________ Seemingly unnoticed, the guards had made their way right past where the Sith Lord had hidden himself away. They had been none the wiser. Above, in the safely secured, passenger free, ivory bubble that was the bridge, however, nothing went unseen by the all-knowing eyes of the captain. Even if her idiot head of security missed things. After all, how many times could one organic turn a blind eye to the theft of what appeared to be the finest Hapan china from bar counters and tabletops without going numb. In truth, she suspected that the man with graying wisps had some sort of mental deficiency. She had read his files. She had read what was not there between the lines. Any time a child soldier escaped from the shackles of their developmental years they were left scarred and twisted. Just another reason to leave it to us droids. “Director Wade,” the captain pointed at the security monitor before him, “It would seem that we have a guest that has gotten a little curious. If you check the manifest, I do believe he is needed on the Lido Deck” What followed was a flurry of hushed orders across the secure shipboard comms. In moments a team of eight security guards approached the crouching form of Karys Navat iv-Adas, an array of weapons drawn, ranging from the less-lethal to molecular dissipating in levels of ferocity. No chances were being taken. “Yeah. We seen your file. They warned us you might cause a scene the minute you showed your ugly mug on the loading docks. Cap’n wants you on the Lido Deck with the others.” With a less than friendly nudge of the barrel of what could only be a D-93 Incinerator flamethrower, another of the security guards urged Karys forwards along the walkway. “Best to not make a scene that the scrubber droids’ll be cleaning for weeks. I’ve heard Sithy goo is murder on carpet fibers.” The grim looks on the faces of the guards conveyed a simple and singular message. They knew what, if not who, they were up against, and no chances were being taken. Sure there were protocols on how to deal with passengers. There were also things like laws that prohibited the possession of several of the weapons now trained on the Sith Lord. It was highly likely that if they were willing to overlook a few inter-galactic weapons laws that a few protocols were not going to stand in their way. Karys could come quietly or he could be brought into submission and forcibly deposited poolside. The choice was his. Either way, he would make it to the pool. _________________________________________ Our duo of rule-breakers that were diverted from the brig were not the only ones encountering their share of unpleasantries on what was supposed to be a pleasure-filled cruise. Several lies and bluffs had found the solo mechanized passenger on the cruise had found Query the rogue 2-1B droid in a humid fetid sauna of Hutt slime, puss, and seething looks from the staff that were stuck in the room. Thankfully, an order from the bridge was not needed to pull him from the situation. The crew of highly trained, mostly mechanized, medical professionals in the ship’s decently sized and highly arrayed medical ward had sent an entire gravity sled up to the room of Roomba the Hutt. It carried a single Hutt-sized vat of the requested creams and medications. The duo of droids that brought the medications began to wheel it into the room, while a rather stern looking devilish Devaronian glowered at Query. Without a word, he gestured Query out of the room with an elongated bony finger. Once outside, the devilish being lit into Query with a high tenor of a voice. “I do not recognize you as one of our assigned medical staff droid. What are you doing here? Treating a patient no less! Don’t you realize that you could be facing a malpractice lawsuit and the removal of your medical programming or worse? Even I do not like to treat Hutts. We were hoping that Master Roomba’s rash would keep him in his stateroom for the duration of the trip. Now, thanks to your meddling, we have no choice but to treat him. Might I suggest that you return to your master, whoever he is. I will alert security. If you are seen unaccompanied or treating anyone that is not your ward you will be shut down for the duration.” Without pausing to argue or allow Query a chance to respond, the scowling devil waved the droid off and sighed before entering the Hutt’s room. The door hissing shut behind him. _________________________________________ Eventually the entirety of the unknowing team had found their way to the Lido Deck. As they got settled in, serving staff that had been trained to be all but invisible quietly and quickly escorted any would be pool goers off the massive deck surrounded by saunas, hot tubs, and relaxing wave pools. Even the bar staff vanished. In less than two minutes the entire deck was silently vacated, save for our team. Our team, and a single woman quietly approaching in full ship’s dress uniform, complete with epaulets and a single sweeping shoulder cape both of ivory, matched by a pair of identical pressed slacks and black glistening boots. “Now now Madam Scorpion, I do not think that this sales seminar is nearly as stupid as you seem to want to believe it is,” a soft quiet voice cooed as the alabaster hand of the white skinned humanoid female ran across the Zeltron’s shoulder with a smile as she sought to hide her discomfort at the odor radiating from the woman. “I promise it will be worth your time.” Stepping away from the duo at the table, the woman smiled, spreading her hands as if she could encompass the wide spread of adventurers scattered about the pool area. “Please come closer to the holoscreen. It is time we get started.” With the push of a button, the numerous doors that led to and from the Lido Deck hissed as they sealed the deck off from the rest of the ship. The glass doors and windows instantly turned opaque. In an instant, the group was completely alone. Placing a hand on a vacant table, the woman waited for the group to settle, before offering a warm smile, “I am glad that you are here. Our employer has selected each and every one of you for a specific task. Don’t worry. It should be relatively painless. Your vacation will continue unaffected. All we require is your services a few moments here and there. A step off on your way to the gym or a brief check in before you leave the fresher. Nothing complicated. Trust me.” The woman’s voice was warm and reassuring, as if she believed the words she was speaking. In that moment, the overhead lights flickered as the ship jolted ever so subtly. “Ah good. Right on time.” Overhead, the transparisteel bubble above them settled from the streaks of blue-white hyperspace to pinpoints of distant unidentified stars. Looming in the viewscreen a single large sickly yellow sphere of a planet hovered. “Do not worry friends. This is all part of the plan. This . . .” the woman paused as the intercom crackled to life. “Ladies and gentlemen please do not be alarmed. It seems that while our ship has been retrofitted to offer the highest luxuries that money can offer, sometimes the finest help money can buy is not entirely perfect. It seems that we have a small electrical malfunction in engineering. Nothing to panic about. Those of you near a port window may notice a world outside. We’ve dispatched a team planetside to recover some supplies. We should be back on the move within a few hours. For your inconvenience we have arranged for the best of the best to be offered in Restaurant Qilany Qie on Deck 4. Please enjoy these delicacies from beyond the Outer Rim courtesy of EnAnAm Enterprises with our apologies.” Stepping away from the table, the woman began to walk between the array of tables and chairs along the edge of the oversized pool, “As I was saying, this is all part of the plan. EnAnAm has need to acquire something of a discrete nature from the planet below. This was the best way to do it. No one asks too many questions. Make sure it stays that way. The food being offered on Deck 4. That is also part of the plan. We needed some space in the kitchens’ cold storage to keep the package fresh. Don’t go poking around. Just make sure nobody else does. Just keep an eye on things. The head chef knows all about it. If he needs help, he will signal. Trust me. You’ll know. I believe several of you have met Gimpy the Grouch.” She shot a disproving glance at Scorpion and then towards Sanguine. “He is actually on our side. Try to play nice. Security does not know you are working with us. Nor do any of the passengers. Keep this on the down low and if the trip goes off without a hitch you can rest assured that the full price of your tickets will be refunded to an account of your choice.” Now, if you do not have any questions, I will leave you to your vacation. EnAnAm Enterprises appreciates your service.” (Ask any questions you might have. Everyone should be poolside by now. i am sure some of ya'll will take advantage of the lack of bartender. If you want to leave to go investigate or eat, feel free. The ship is your playground. We're rolling now boys and girls))
  9. The ancient tree shuffled forwards. He had been called to this living world by The Force. The Force was his only master and he went where it directed, like a leaf in the wind. He had been a commissioned Jedi for several years now and had quickly ascended from the rank of hopeful to master. As much as he had come to embrace the cool breath of the light and wholly reject the calling of the dark, Frond was still a mournful sad soul. In his heartwood, Frond was still a Mindwalker. He had seen visions of the future, unrecorded cataclysms of the past that shaped the universe without anyone ever knowing, and everything in between. More often than not, he had been powerless to stop the events that he had seen. When he could, it always came with sacrifice. He did not even need to glance downwards at his stump of a wrist to know that. It was a lesson he had learned early in his walk with the Jedi. A lesson he never forgot. Trailing behind him, the shimmering cloak of cloud-gray-sky-colored fabric rustled silently casting strange warping shadows behind the strange stooped Jedi Master. Ahead, sitting on an animal-skin Frond saw that for which he had come; Master Tobias Vos. While he and the other Jedi had taken the fight to the Sith and their forces of darkness, the Jedi had been nothing more than a branch atop the sea of The Force as it tossed back and forth in the fury of misbalanced tidal forces of dark and light. Pausing for a moment, Frond simply stared at the mournful Master Vos. The pain of loss that radiated from the Kiffar was evident and it buffeted against the calm almost static soul that was the signature of the Neti in The Force. In his heart, Frond knew he had done the right thing when he had fled the endless battles of the Jedi, facing down Sith armies and Lords time and time again. The Force had called him to another task. In truth, it had been the same task that had drawn him out into the galaxy at large in the first place. The Force needed to be balanced. The darkness was too strong to be taken head on. As such, Frond had returned to his studies far from the front and the waves of crashing darkness. There, he had removed himself from the tendrilled storms of the galaxy and delved deeper and deeper into the mystic ways of, alternative, forbidden, and forgotten Force traditions. Truth be told, his cloak had come from such a delving before. Alongside his then-apprentice Ficcabin Yule, he had learned the ways of the Mist Weavers; forming a robe woven from the very fabric of The Force. It was the one possession that Frond held onto, believing it to be an item of truth in the fanciful realm the wars raged on in. Still, knowing all this did not stop Frond from feeling ashamed for having left those he had called his friends alone on the front. Perhaps, if he had been there with Nightbreak, his massive sun-colored blade, he would have been able to prevent this. Perhaps he could have saved his fallen friends and stayed Tobias’ fall back to the darkness. Now, even as his plans approached fruition, he had come. He needed to offer his brother a chance at redemption. To return to the light, Frond hoped he could draw his fallen comrade back from the precipice. ”As the leaves waft down Time is The Force’s Ally Take my hand brother Winds blow east and west Tide comes in and returns home Embrace what you know Shadows hide the heat Emotions rage through daybreak See not feel the truth” Shuffling forward, his age creaking with each heavy footfall, he came to Tobias’ side. Here, he felt Tobias’ emotions even more clearly. His brother was in turmoil. Like so many younglings, tossed by the waves of emotions called to by the darkness. Unrooted, that was what Tobias was. Frond hoped to return him to his roots. Resting his knotted, gnarled tendrilled hand atop Tobias’, Frond’s mouth parted in a slight smile. He reached out with his mind, seeking to enshroud his fellow Force-user’s mind in waves of mind-numbing calmness, an aura of utter peace intertwining with the natural world around them, drawing on it to feed the calm. Pulling it from their surroundings, Frond sought to transplant it onto the man that once helped instruct him in the ways of The Force. ”The water falls down Creature plant and mountain range Know peace find peace be”
  10. The Sorcerer’s Light churned through hyperspace, calmly and gently the onboard computers monitoring every bit of the ship and keeping the vessel running at optimal capacity. Everything from the temperature to the artificial gravity to the faint classical upbeat Zeltros pop-music in the lifts and hallways was in a word: perfect. ____________________________________ Outside the laser tag arena, a group of giggling onlookers tittered with smiles as they shyly approached and retreated from the duo of Mandalorians until they were finally close enough. It was then that one of the unattended minors was pushed to the front of the pack. Staring at the floor, the young Corellian twisted her feet and hem of her shirt in embarrassment as her eyes glanced from Araac to the floor and back again. ”Ummm….*tehehehehe,” the girl tittered as she turned red. ”Are you some sort of bodyguard? My father . . . umm . . . well, he said I need to find a new one. So . . . uh. . . DidYouWanToMeetMyFatherAndBeMyNewBodyGuard?” The last set of words all ran together as the girl flushed bright pink and jerked backwards into the gaggle of teenyboppers amidst a swarm of giggles as the young lady vanished amongst the girls and the eyes came to rest on Araac and his bride. ____________________________________ Elsewhere on the ship, the bar where the majority of our intrepid adventurers found themselves gathered was beginning to grow more and more crowded. Passengers had gradually found their way from their rooms, drawn to the call of free alcohol and the promise of relaxation offered at the start of this weeklong escapade of relaxation, debauchery, and pleasure. This bar was one of several cozy drinking establishments aboard the ship. The lush seating and richly colored walls offset by the polished wooden bar oozed wealth. Behind the bar, a heavily scarred Zabrak wielded a rather large butcher knife. Expertly slicing a variety of unidentified vegetables and meats, the tattoos that crisscrossed the bald horned head of the muscled chef matched the clearly homemade tattoos that stretched along both of his arms from his knuckles to the edges of his shirt sleeves; a plain white t-shirt covered by a stained apron. Without even looking up from his place behind the bar, ignoring any patron that tried to order from him until a professionally clad bar tender fearfully jumped in to divert attention, he eavesdropped on the conversation of the growing group at the bar. With a sigh, he finally slapped the knife on the cutting board before him with a loud *SNAP.* Garnering the attention of our group of adventurers, he offered a lopsided smile that displayed several missing teeth. ”All you little boys and girls wondering how you came to be so lucky as to earn a trip aboard the Sorcerer’s Light? You think you’re the first ones to win such a prize? All you have to do is listen to some lousy hour-long lecture about time shares on Hoth or Tatooine right?” What followed next, could only be described as deep and unnerving, the man chuckled heartily at the strange looks he got from the group. Leaning forward on the counter, he whispered loudly, “Don’t ya think it odd that you’re flying with EnAnAm Enterprises? En-an-am-ee . . .” Gesturing to his right eye with the rounded back corner of his butcher knife, he winked. “Keep your eyes open. When the freezers go down, you’ll know what you gotta do.” Righting himself the head chef returned to chopping his plethora of meat and vegetables, offering a wide smile to the group. Nodding to the fruit and veggies he spoke as if nothing odd had occurred. “What’d ya say if I told you this was Lambro Shark? It’s a delicacy. It’ll be on buffet line 4 tonight at supper time.” ____________________________________ In the massive reception area, the red carpet stretched out in every direction. Where before it had been crowded with arrivals, now it served as only a passing area for guests as they visited different drinking establishments, food areas, or entertainment venues. Several black suited intimidating looking sharp chinned Nikto walked in unison across the room towards the theater where the film Spawn of the Deep: Dak Edition was playing. It had not even been released to the public yet. Somehow, it was playing freely aboard the ship. Here, we found the 2-1B medical droid, Query. Before he could find someone to engage with, Someone found him. A shapely royal purple - colored twi’leki woman in a skintight blue flight suit grabbed him by the mechanized shoulder. “Shouldn’t you be in the med bay droid?” she growled as she subtly and forcibly began to march the droid away from the reception area towards the state rooms, “Never mind. My employer has need of your services. Come with me.” The last line was clearly unneeded as the droid was already being escorted willfully or not towards a stateroom Inside the room, the odor was nearly overwhelming. In the center a massive floor-height bed was covered in slime. At the center of bed, rolled over on his back was none other than the corpulent Roomba the Hutt, rumored heir apparent to a massive criminal empire. The hutt lay there, thrashing in pain, his slimy thick mottled skin covered in huge pus-oozing open sores. ”Bu sauay! Tee ava un bu sapkaha? Ahhhhhhh!!! Woy la tee bla coo Dobra? Meecooda chamy tah koushonbake banba bidchkap whao Jee banag. Bu Sauay! Jee hatkocanh killee hoohah tytung!“ the Hutt cried in a mix of anger and pain. Around the edges of the room a half dozen more voluptuous twi’leki women stood, their concern and worry apparent on their face as they looked from the writhing Hutt covered in irritated skin and oozing wounds to the single medical droid now standing in the doorway. ”Don’t just stand there droid! Help him!” ____________________________________ Further down the hallway, a duo of ship staffers Zeltrons knocked on the door of 488; the room of the famed Thysian Wolf, Nostro Kraven. ”Master Kraven. Delivery.” one of the women cooed behind the door. Between the two Zeltrons was a cart of exquisite cheeses from across the galaxy. Upon opening the door the only explanation the women would give was ”A secret admirer sends regards.” They’d share nothing else, insisting on the secrecy of their positions; but seemingly hesitant to leave the infamous combatant’s room now that they had wheeled the cart inside. ____________________________________ As the ship continued onwards, the stars streaked past in a blue-white glow of mesmerizing beauty that, if one would take their eyes off of their accrued wealth, rivaled anything that could be found aboard the ship; provided it did not drive those of weaker minds to the brink of insanity. Aboard the bridge, Captain Delcee was relaxed; as relaxed as a droid could be. Initially she had some worries about the flyby night retrofit the ship had undergone in such a quick time frame, but everything seemed to be working fine and they were ahead of schedule. All that mattered was ensuring that the trip went as smooth as possible and that one planned unplanned stop. It was nothing that was out of the ordinary for her. Ever since she had come to work for EnAnAm Enterprises, Delcee had enjoyed the most luxurious assignments. No more full mind wipes. No torture. Quickly, Delcee had learned to not ask questions. In her position, Delcee had to be one of the most liberated droids in the galaxy. All she had to do was follow orders and not ask questions. Across the ship, the onboard comms cooed to life with a gentle ding: “Ladies and gentlemen, for those of you who are signed up for the free presentations on different real estate opportunities around the galaxy, the schedules will be posted on the rotating holodispalys at the entrances to each dining and drinking establishment. They will start within the hour on the Lido Deck for those of you who are interested in Outer Rim timeshares. Coincidentally, all of our adventurers with their free tickets were signed up for this first presentation. All they needed to do was don their favorite swimwear and settle in for an hour of slideshow boredom before the presentation got started. ((An Unexpected Meeting: Feel free to do as you will, but before the next GM post please find your way to the Lido Deck . . .or not. It is where you’re supposed to be as a condition of your free ticket, but clearly ‘stuff’ comes up))
  11. Across the cosmos on the waves of the vast ocean of The Force, Frond's mind reaches out grasping for that of his brotherly learner in The Force, Kel Koon. The Neti's familiar sense of peace tinged with hints of physical pain and an otherworldly desire to destroy, spoke the following words in the silent voice of Frond; his usual vernacular warped by the pain.
  12. Frond knelt there in the entry to the angular boxy Jedi freighter, his mind washed by the waves of The Force, light and dark and everything in between, for countless hour upon hour. Finally, when from the crashing invisible waves, Frond was able to grasp and not slip away from the single solitary lighthouse of strength; he came back to the reality of Garn. Slowly he opened his eyes, Frond’s mind was pin point focused. He was a servant of The Force. It was his duty to serve it. Nothing was off limits. Nothing was forbidden. The Force desired balance, craved it, demanded it. Frond, its servant, here in this fantasy reality, one of millions, would do what he needed. Frond served the light because it needed him in the moment. Any who sought to misbalance The Force, Frond would persecute with extreme prejudice. Slowly, Frond pushed himself up to his feet. First things first; Brother Ficcabin was in trouble. The very essence of the windless fog spoke that to him through The Force. He did not know how, where, or why; but he knew that Ficcabin was troubled. The Force whispered it to him in wordless thoughts of pain, suffering, and despair. Frond made his way to the bridge of the ship. Standing there, he took in the various aged consoles. Ships had been the one fascination of his in this made-up reality, but even that did not help him now. He had never bothered learning how to even turn one on. Ficcabin Yule needed his help and if Ficcabin was to follow the path of the light, he would need pried from the grasp of the dark worm that had felled him. Pondering over the console, Frond slowly reached forward and depressed a button with a single knotted finger. Nothing. The console stayed dark. A second prod resulted in the same result. Nothing. Lowering his hand, Frond stared down at the console. Resting his palm against the cool durasteel, Frond closed his eyes an exhaled. He turned his attention back to The Force, looking away from the physical world around him as he allowed his mind to slip into the endless ocean that was The Force. The otherworldly peace that flooded his soul offered reassurance and bolstered the Neti’s confidence. Pushing outwards into the washing waves of eternal power and knowledge, Frond was a seed amongst the interminable waves; one point looking for another. He needed help. He needed to reach out and touch the mind of one of his fellow Jedi. In the vastness that was The Force, Frond could feel how small and worthless he was. It was an awesome feeling. As small as he was, Frond was chosen by the vastness of The Force. Search as he could, Frond could not find Sandy Sarna, her presence lost amongst the waves. He found some of his old Mind Walking acquaintances; but he knew they would be of no help. They were called to observe The Force, not follow it. He had evolved beyond that. Frond was alone, awash amongst the waves. At one point, he again felt the brushing presence of Ficcabin Yule, but he did not respond, he was suffering and surrounded by the familiar darkness of the green worm that had taken his hand and nose. Expanding his mind, Frond pushed and searched. Then, he felt it. He was almost ashamed that he had not thought of him sooner. The glowing beacon awash in the waves, visible across the cosmos was none other than his brother in The Force, the follower of the Baren Do way; Kel Koon. With his mind open, Frond spoke aloud, the essence of his words vibrating across the invisible string that now connected his soul to that of Kel Koon on Felucia. ”Crawling worm defiles Waves of darkness crashing down Ficcabin is lost”
  13. Welcome welcome welcome BIg Mac!! (Sorry I could not resist ) But seriously, glad to have you come aboard. I'm one of those "possible mentors you could turn to," if you''re interested. By the time you are up and rolling in a few wekks, I should have Frond at a spot where if you want to roll a Jedi character you could join us on some epic mind-boggling adventures. Hit me up here or on Discord. I look forward to chatting with ya!
  14. Frond stumbled onwards through the fog until the outline of the aged angular freighter materialized before him. Tripping over his own rooty feet, Frond fell to the earth with a woof of dust, unable to catch himself with his handless arm or one good hand clutching the still crying ensnared soul. With the dust caked to his face, especially thick where his own sticky sap had seeped from his wounds and jellified on his gnarled barky skin, Frond slowly lifted his face from the dust towards the ship. He could not see Ficcabin Yule anywhere, nor could he sense him in The Force. There on the ground, Frond closed his eyes and reached out searching for the young Givin. He could not find him anywhere around the ship. In fact, the ship seemed entirely deserted. With a snort that sent a cloud of dust billowing up the cavern that had been until recently his nose, Frond slowly pushed himself up on his forearms. Pulling his feet up beneath him, one slow dragging timber after another, Frond stood up. With the crying crystal begging blindly for release in his hand, the dull hum of his saber’s innate desires seeking destruction within his chest, and his own body yearning for healing, Frond’s mind was enshrouded in a whirling sandstorm of pulling temptations, good and bad, natural and not. With an inhale that rattled his quickly drying leaves, Frond searched deep within his being to grasp at the truth that he knew, the truth that was his guide, The Force. He was but a servant of The Force. That thought was what sustained him. When he desired nothing more than to give in to any and all of the calling temptations, The Force sustained him. Standing on his own two legs again the ancient Neti lurched forward making his way to, and then into the vacant ship. The door was still open and the aged air purification system whirred away, grinding to purify the air as it came into the ship. Clomping upwards into the ship, Frond dropped to his knees, the stale but purified air washing over him. In that moment, Frond could feel The Force even purer. Without his body having to fight the toxins in the air Frond felt his very heart and soul open even more to the call of The Force. There on his knees with his eyes clenched shut, Frond felt the tears stream down his wooden face. Wrapped in the comforting folds of The Force, Frond sat there for who knew how long. The waves of The Force washed over him, driving everything else away in a cleansing torrent of purity. No longer did he hear the call of the entombed soul or felt the desires of his saber or even the silent cries of his own body. In that moment, in the dark entryway of the aged Jedi vessel, Frond was at one with The Force. ”Calm before the storm Leaves twitching in the stillness Called to serve The Force" He whispered the words, not even aware that he was doing so. His mind was awash in the swirl of lights and color; painted images morphing from one blurred vision to another. The figures and vortexes of a power greater than any single mind could comprehend played in a never-repeating cycle across all that was Frond’s being. Images, emotions, thoughts, feelings that pushed the limit of sentient capability pushed him from one extreme to another, yet in it all, Frond felt an overwhelming sense of peace. Peace in The Force, knowing that he was right where he needed to be.
  15. The civilian space docks of Phu were abustle as the richest of the rich arrived by all manner of craft, speeders, luxury yachts, and more. Even the docks themselves were clean and clear. No detail had been overlooked. As each entourage of they-who-were-above-the-masses prepared to board the massively retrofitted Sorcerer’s Light, the porters, stewards, and dockside staff struggled to load and cart the plethora of baggage each passenger brought along. They knew that a mistake could cost them their job. For some, it may very well cost them their life, judging by the wide array of wealthy and powerful beings boarding the ship. Some of the passengers had chosen to display their wealth on their person, while others chose to flaunt it in a more efficient way. The strikingly beautiful Duchess G’whan lo Cokache’ma of Naboo wore enough jewels that she could easily have built and opened a successful beachside resort on Tatooine had she so chosen; something she would never do. On the flip side, a little known Deepcore Mining Magnate known by his subordinates for his penchant for throwing those in his way down ‘abandoned’ mining shafts, was making his way aboard with a huddle of muscled looking thugs arrayed in matching red uniforms. Each hulking bodyguard had his or her own ticket aboard the ship. Signs of disconnected wealth that did not care about the working being were everywhere. The Sorcerer’s Light was a thing of beauty. The bulbous sections of the aged ship gleamed in the light of space, a masterpiece of art and functionality designed by the best Dac had to offer – 20 years ago. Where before it had served as a cruise liner for those who could afford lavish vacations, it now catered to the highest of the high; only the most elite were welcome aboard this pleasure craft. Here, any luxury that money could afford would be pleasant. The multiple spas and pools catered to all manner of desire, whereas the spread of eateries put a Coruscanti food district to shame. For the more discrete and cash-carrying passengers even the less-than-legal luxuries were available from the staff. All one needed to do was ask. Each passenger had their own private stateroom, retrofitted to be larger than a standard ship’s room; rivaling the grandiose luxuries of an inner rim high rise. All that stood between the ticket bearing passengers and their week of bliss was a simple security screen and checking of the ticket against the master list. From there, a short turbolift ride to the sprawling reception area backed by an intricate gold-plated staircase brought each passenger to their room, hand-delivered by a servant of the appropriate race and gender to where their luggage was already waiting. No questions were asked, eye contact was avoided. Those aboard the ship knew their place and did not deviate from it. They would be available at the click of a ship-provided button, summoned instantly in any instance to lead their charge through the winding maze of decks, lifts, and staircases that made up the inner workings of the Sorcerer’s Light. It is here that we find our intrepid adventuring vacationers, summoned separately from all edges of the galaxy with the promise of a risk-free, cost-free, once-in-a-lifetime vacation opportunity. All they would have to do was sit through a brief sales pitch later in the cruise, when summoned to the Lido Deck pool. After that, the vacation would be theirs for the enjoying. Of course the ‘free’ rooms were not the most glamorous aboard the ship, but even the lesser rooms were arrayed in more wealth than the average Coreworld senator made in a year. All they needed to do now was find their staterooms and settle in. Food, drinks, and legal pleasures were available free of charge, enclosed within the price of the ticket. The lower decks, for the adventurous, held paid pleasures ranging from spice to escorts, while the upper decks held ship-led meditations, open viewscreens of space, arrays of musical venues, and full-on dramatic productions. Throughout the ship, spas, pools, gymnasiums, and more catered to every whim. Even though they did not know one another at the onset of the trip, fate, The Force, and unseen machinations of an even more powerful disassociated presence had come together to bring them all here, in this time and place. As the last of the luggage and supplies were stowed and every passenger delivered to their staterooms, the shipwide intercom crackled to life; a soothing distinctly feminine voice of mechanization and upbeat allure began, ”Good morning passengers. Allow me to welcome you aboard the maiden voyage of the recently retrofitted Sorcerer’s Light. You may feel some slight shifting as we leave the dock. After that, it should be smooth sailing as we jump to hyperspace on our way to view some of the most beautiful sights the Outer Rim has to offer. I would like to remind you that this cruise is all inclusive. So do not hesitate to have that fifth drink. All we ask is that you remain respectful of your fellow travellers. If you have any safety concerns, members of our security team can be found about the ship. Should any other troubles arise or you have desires that are not being catered to, please alert your personally assigned crew member. I am Captain Delcee and we here at EnAnAm Enterprises are honored to have you aboard!” With that, the message ended and a quite male voice began reading aloud a list of rules, restricted locations (maintenance and machine bays, storage areas, and control/command decks), and guidelines in the background. Not that many of the passengers listened. Aboard the luxury liner originally designed for thousands, the roughly 800 passengers had plenty of room to spread out, relax, and take in their environment. The air was filled with a sense of excitement, relaxation, and desire and the ship groaned momentarily as it left the dock and turned to face the void of space, before leaping to hyperspace. *((OPENING: Feel free to post your arrival, getting settled, etc etc. Get to know your fellow passengers - feel free to invent them within reason; grab a cocktail; settle in; say hello. In the next post, the adventure begins with an Unexpected Stop when our ship will drop out of hyperspace for yet-unknown reasons.))
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