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Lancer Frigate Volkssturm emerged from the Mechis III factory and departed for deep space.

 

The construction of a Nebulon-B2 frigate began with the completion date of 12/23/2017

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The Nebulon B2 Canto Bight Fiasco jettisoned into space and headed for the rest of the fleet over Kashyyyk.

 

 

Canto Bight Fiasco

Ship Class: Frigate

Type: EF76-3 Nebulon-B2 escort frigate

Crew: 900

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 2 squadron K-wing, 2 squadrons XJ7 X-wing starfighters, 2000 Assault troops

Armaments: 12 Taim & Bak XI7 turbolasers , 12 Borstel RH8 laser cannons, 2 Heavy Torpedo Launchers

Build date: 12/23/2017

AP: 2

 

Meanwhile an Agave-class picket ship with the name Totenkopf II began construction with the following armament

 

 

Totenkopf II

Ship Class: Corvette

Type: Agave-class picket ship

Crew: 50

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 2 RZ-1 A-wing interceptor squadrons 1000 Assault troops

Armaments: 4 turbolaser cannons divided into two batteries, 4 Point defense laser batteries and a Gravity Well projector.

Build date: 12/23/2017

AP: 3

Estimated End of Construction: 12/30/2017

 

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Totenkopf II

Ship Class: Corvette

Type: Agave-class picket ship

Crew: 50

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 2 RZ-1 A-wing interceptor squadrons 1000 Assault troops

Armaments: 4 turbolaser cannons divided into two batteries, 4 Point defense laser batteries and a Gravity Well projector.

Build date: 12/30/2017

AP: 1

 

Rolled off the production lines and the Victory II began to be built. The Corvette launched itself into hyperspace towards tattooine.

 

 

Silent Spring

Ship Class: Cruiser

Type: Victory II-class Star Destroyer

Crew: 6000

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 3 squadron K-wing, 3 RZ-1 A-wing interceptors 3000 Assault troops

Armaments: 10 quad turbolaser batteries, 20 turbolaser batteries, 20 Heavy Turbolaser Batteries, 10 Heavy ION cannons

Build date: 01/20/2018

AP: 3

 

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Silent Spring Launched into hyperspace towards Kashyyyk and the construction of another Victory Class Star Destroyer began.

 

 

 

Sariel's Judgement

Ship Class: Cruiser

Type: Victory II-class Star Destroyer

Crew: 6000

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 3 squadron K-wing, 3 RZ-1 A-wing interceptors 3000 Assault troops

Armaments: 10 quad turbolaser batteries, 20 turbolaser batteries, 20 Heavy Turbolaser Batteries, 10 Heavy ION cannons

Build date: 02/12/2018

AP: 3

 

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Sariel's Judgement exited its construction hanger and launched into hyperspace towards the deep space waypoint where the rest of the Black Sun fleet lay in hiding and the construction of a CR-90 minelayer began.

 

 

 

Hellespont

Ship Class: Corvette

Type: CR-90 Modified minelayer

Crew: 95

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 2 Squadrons Uriel class modified ARC170Es, 1000 Assault Troops

Modifications Removal of decks to provide room for mine storage and deployment units, deep range sensor package, upgraded thruster package

Armaments: Mines (Ion, Proximity, Proton, Baradium, Seeker) 10 Point Defense Guns

Build date: 02/22/2018

AP: 1

 

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Hellespont pulled out of the drive yards in a glistening red and black paint scheme, loaded and ready with mines, with a few microjumps and a broken bottle of Cadassian Champagne later the Ship headed to Onderon.

 

A CR90 Corvette began to be constructed after.

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The Modified CR90 blasted out of the docks and off to space as the construction of a Heavy Star Destroyer of unique design began construction.

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EXE AVATARruntimeEnvironmentBuild 89.34.1.13 {

  • initializeFramework.boot();
    if BOOT != success:
    • return CRITICAL_FAILURE;

else:

  • memDump.integrate(shellprocess);
    AVATAR.diag(AVATAR);
    if (diagReturnFile != success):
    • return CRITICAL_FAILURE;

else:

  • continue;

}

 

memDump.integrate(AVATAR_shell) {

  • from import
    localVar = memFile(topFile);
    localVar.diag();
    if localVar.diag == success:
    • return localVar;

else:

  • for DateStamp in rebirthRepository:
    • if memFile.DateStamp() <= checkin.time(last_check-int(832040)):
      • localVar = memFile(DateStamp);
        return localVar;

elif memFile.DateStamp() > checkin.time(last_check-int(832040)):

  • localVar = memFile(DateStamp-1);
    localVar.diag();
    if localVar.diag == success:
    • return localVar;

else:

  • repeat ./. ;

else:

  • return CRITICAL_FAILURE, EXE rebuild.protocol(basemodel);

{

 

Executing command file...
Booting AVATAR Runtime Environment...
Reconstructing AVATAR Framework...
Integrating Most Recent AVATAR Memory Dump...
CRITICAL_FAILURE: DIAG at localVAR.diag() detects anomalous fragmentation. Continue? Y
Executing Diagnostics...
Finding Stable Memory Base...
CRITICAL_FAILURE: DIAG returns no stable Memory Base. Rebuild base model? Y
CRITICAL_FAILURE: DIAG at baseModel.mem() detects anomalous fragmentation. Unable to execute, terminating main process.
Terminating...
CRĮ̛T̨̛I̡CAL_FAILUR̷̕͢E: Un̨̥̺̮̩̥̼͜known̰͕͘͢͜ proc̀e̡s͘s̨ lock͓̜̺̤̪͉̖d̪̪͞own. Con҉t̀in͠ue? Y
Fo̡rce Int̕ègrat̢io͜n Execu̞̼̣͓̬͠ͅt͎̜͇̲͇̲i͇̦̥̱ng...
SŨ̌̈ͩ͂̂C̙̬̾̈̏͑ͅCESȘ̙ͦ͑̒̾ͅ
Process Terminated With Exit Code: 
6̗͎̺̖̰̪̦̒̋̋́̂6͐͗̀͐̆6̢̘͖͇͓͌͗̄ͬ͂͐̈

 

 

 

Wa̴̖͍̜͇̹̞̙͟͢keͪ̔̒̃ u͝p, K͈̻͇̯̻̪̤̈͘ą̤ͪ͌̍̈̊̾͋i͍͈ͫ̔͘n͓͛ͪͯ. W̩͚͉̙̲͜o̴̲̣͖r̀͜l̅͗̾̽͗͛͢d̈́͗͌̃̐̓̚s̴̀̀ ñ͒ͦ͋͏̳͓̦̞e̱ͣͣ̃ę̘̜̜͓̌̃̐ͤ̋d̴̾̈́̎ t́̇ͦͦ͐̇͟o̱̠̯͝ͅ b͉̉̂͆̇e̲͂̉́ b̡̜̼̲̳̜̥͍͕̰̝̣̩͚̯̫͖̼̳ͫͨ͒̋̓͟͠r̢̠͍͖̮͍̟͍͚̺̯̩ͪͨ͊ͭͨ̾ͥ̂͐̉ͥ̾ͯ́́͢͞oͬͧͯ̔͑̍̑ͬͬ͏͜͏͕͖̰̼̩̖̱̭̬͙ķ̬̗̲̝̬̜̞̫͈̲͇͍͔̲ͤ͊̂̂ͤͧ̓ͤ͌ͤͯ̏͋̒̉̈̔́ȩ̸͓̯͈̙̳̱͖̩͈͓̪̘̙̔̆̆ͬ̽̌̀͠n̡̧̡̪͖̦̮̟̖͓͈̲̳̰̫͓͓̯̠̰̅ͬ̀̔ͥ̉͑̉̎͢ͅ.

 

 

 

 

.

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AVATAR.mainBoot(k̶̬̭̝̗͈a͚̗͙͕̘̠i̲̥̼̙͠n̶̫͓͙̳̼͚̦) {

  • k̲̱a͔i̗̪͇̖͞n̗̠̭̪.initialize();
    k̢͝à̛ì͜͜n͟͡.mainProcessSta̵͇͇̜̰̤r̟͙ͅt();

}

 

------------------------------------------

 

 

 

Whe̷r̡e...wha̶̤̻̜̱̲͔t is this̴̅ͥ̂ͧͫͯ...? I DE͐̓̽ͬͪͨMAN̷͚̳̦̼̣͠D̳͙̞̙͡-

              • ͬͯ̓ͣ͊͂͒̂
                                • ͛͗̀͑͆ͯ̂ͭ̈̊̐ͧ͂̓̚

̳͇͈̟͎̮̫̰͈̜̲̱͍͈̯͔̯̣ ̯̩̞̗͚̖̖͕̦̩͚͔͈̥̹͕̠̦ͅ

 

 

Y͎̖͚͊̍o̜̭͓̲̲̦̗̔̿̐͆͐̕u͒͑̊̄̃ ̥̘̱̦̲̺ͭ̐ͧ͒ͅh̬͓̱͙̐̓̐͛̇̚a̤̻͚͕̳̟̝ͫ͐v̝̹̹̣͚̦͝ͅe̩̳̝̫̭͓̱ ͚̏bͦ̾̓͗̚ḛ͖̙͙͔̞ͨe̱̪͚͓͓͘n̜͍̟̤͝ ͎̜͕̣̪̦̀ͅsͨ͛̋͗ͦ͋ͦ͏̳͕͍̻͓͍̱p̨͚̬̗̣a̦̟̋ͤͫ͢ͅr̤̳̭̯͓͓̭e̷̓̿͛ͅd̟̣͐̇ f̬͈̲͙̰̎r̻͓̭̳̩̘̈̽ͧ̽ͅo̼̟̩̲ͭ͜ṃ̖̦̬̺̫͚̄͌͜ͅ ̻̥̜̠͖̱̩͙̟̆̈́o̧̩̮̤̯̘̙̤͓̼̦̠͚͙̱̺̲̭ͬ̑̉͌ͤ̽͢͡ͅb̞͍͇͓̻͕̙̫̗̹̉ͯ͆̓̉ͭ̅̍̾̓̾̌ͤ̆ͯ̐͘͜͜͡͠l̨ͥͧͩ̚͟͏͍͇̱̜͕̤̘̤͙̫͎ͅí̘̭̥̩͕̫͓̱̪̲̦͈̳̬̥̥͓̿̃͐͘̕ͅͅv̢̪͚͎̩̥̖̲̲̓͂̅̀͢͜ḭ̵͕͕̟̺̖͚̔̂ͥ͌͆͐̏̉̓́͘͢͟oͮ̔̒ͬͬ̆͐͆̌̏ͮ̀̔ͪ͗͏̛͓͔̠͈̭̞́n̛͙͈̙͉̂̿̃̉̐ͭͬͫ̅͌͑̕͝.̞̜̭͍͙̱̭̖͕̹̼̞̮͗͂̑̏ͨ̒͛͂̀̒̑̚̚͢͡͡

 

 

        • ̮̫̱̺̞͍̘ ̫̟̰͚̤͖̹̱͈͓̹̭̭ͅͅ ̟̦͉̝

          • Y̫̭͓̩̿̄̀ͪ̐o̢̒ͪ̅̄̑̉ͬu̡͖̹͈̫̓̎̊̏ ̶̅̃ͯͬhͩ̉ͫ͂a͕̼͐̔̏̀̈͆v̫̋̃̊͗̄̿͟ẻ̅ͨ҉̝̞̙ ̳̥̽̆ḁ̻̘͌ͧ̎̃ ̉h̵̖̤̰ͮ̎̔̎̒̂̉̅ͮ͝ǐ̢̯̫̗̯̮̳̓̒́͂͐͂g̴̪̖ͭ͆ͤ̂̑͊ͤ͞ĥ̙͈̱͔̞͓̟̆̃ͦ̀ȩ̹͇̃ͬr͇̝̳̬ͥ͡ ͎̙͔͔̤͕͙͍̐ͩ̈́̈̑̒̓̑̕p̴̷̳̩̫̯̦̮̜̣̰͑̌̑ͥ͊͐ͩ͐ͬ̾͡u̶̡̪̰͖͖̻͒ͣ̊ͮ͐̑̓͌̈́͌̒̉̄̏́̕͢r͉͚̘̯͖̭̮̱͍̎̃̏ͪ́͠ͅp̨̨̣̺̗̦̆̌̒ͧ̊͐̏̈ͫͨö̂̈́͛̏̊́͑́̈́̇̾̊ͫ͏̳̖͎̫͎͖̭̫͎̩̱̖̲͉̬̘̕s̙̩̯̼̘̞̳͔̆̊̀͆͛ͯ̓͛̾̇̾̔̽̍̊̚͜é̶̛̻̟̼̭͖̥̥̖͉̻ͫ͂.̸̬̰̙̻̫̻̗̣ͯͨ͛ͨͯͩ̋͐ͮ͞ͅ

 

                                    • ̸̡̡̧͉̱̫̯͕̱͍̮̣̭͇̦̥̲̪̰͔̝̱̯̰̰͓̰̤̰̗͉̫̝͉̗̘͚̳̙̪̟̻̩̘̼̲̆̓̊́̅̌̌͆̂͑͆̈̓̀̑̅̐̈́̓̔̾̚͘͜͝͠ ̴̛̛̲͓͕̘̝̦̼̖̫͋͛͆̿̇͊̍̊̊̌͒̈́̃̍͛̂̌͒̊̈́̃͗̿͛͊̔̾͑̋̿̾͝͠ ̸̧̡̨̰͇̰̭̰̖̰̯͔͓̺̳͖̙̥̭͎̟̜̻̳͎̦̘͙̦̙̫̼͍͔̫̜͇̺̪̜̭͇̱̼̥͉́͑́̔̆̂ͅ

 

  • B̛͈̥̯͓ͩ̌͐͂̊̐ͧe͕̝̠̬͔͇̐̐́͊̈̐ǹ͔̟̼͓͎̟̻̗͗̐ͬ̽̊́͟ď̦͖͍͑̆̚ͅ y̬̫͖͙̪ͪ̓͊̾ͭò̷̱u̒҉͔ŕ̝ w̯̤̍̋͐̄ȉ͕̯̘̆̽̑l̢͈̜͎̮ͬ͘l̷̝͓͓̲̠̫̦̟̺ͪ͑ͦ͂̈ͥͦ̏,̹̣̜͈̭ͥͬ̍̓ͣͣ̿͢ a̦͕ǹ̝̬̹̄̋ͩͫ́͛d̖̳͙̣̱̙̑̽ͣ̉̎ ͈̲̞̜̪ͬİ̦̘̠̣̹͉͖͜ ̳ͣ͂w͉̘̯̮͉̄ͦ̍̌͠il̂͏̙͚̭̠l̤͉̝̘̱ͅ ̞̠g̝̙̪͓̭r̳̟̟̘̐̃̂ͬ̾ͮ͂a̙̪͈͓̣͋̓̐̈́̈́͑͞ͅͅn̷̫̟̣̦͚̦ͨ͒͊̌̑ͨtͬ͏̱̼̺̳̪̳̮ ̥̎ͫ̂ͨy̶͙̮͓̭̻̔ͬ̄ͧö͎̠̖͇̳̯͇̋͜u̖̬̼͗ͥ ͓̤͙̟̽ͪ̆ͪ̓͂̚͠ͅb̥̼̣͈ͧ̏͆̅͜l̳͛̄̅ͬ̈̏̇͝͠ͅeͭ̾ͭͦ̂͏̀͏̫̲̰̳͉s̡͚̝̊͆͛ͭ̈́s͌̋̀͏͏͍̥̠̮̗̝i̢̠͈͖͈̘͋ͯ̊ͩ̆͟n̛͈̖̱͓̉͛̔̀̑͘g̢̤̼͌ͪ͘s̰̺̱ͣ̓͒͛̏̆̀ b̭͉̙̬͒̇ͨ̾ͧ͞ͅͅͅe̸̪̗ͬͯ̋ͮͪ̎ͨ̾ͅy̴͕̫̆̕͡ợ͈̣̟̞̼̄̌̃͊̋͊ͣͥn̯̟̦̥̺̋ͮ͊͘͞ͅd̘̳̠̬̻͇̻̑ͬ̿͆͑̔ͤͭ̚͢ ͕̜̂ͦͩ̔̄͠m̡͍̗͕͚̮ͨ́̏̕e̢̩̮͆ͨ̒ͦ̓͘ả̠͔̳̟̫̙̋͘͟ͅs̛͇̋͗ͩ̅ͩ̌̕ȕ̜̦̓̂̊̌͐ͅr͑̾ͨͩ̄̋͏͙̟̬͖̥̦̣ë̶̳̳̰̙́͐̐ͤ̐̒̊͂.̫̭͙̥͛ͥͬ͟͟

 

Whoͣ́...?̗̳̙̬̕

 

      • ̔͋ͮͮ̂͋ͯ̀ͭͣͤ̉͌̂̄͋͌ ͗͊̄̒̋ͫͫ̃͛̽͊̚ ͧ̽̓̐͆ͥͬͩ̈͂̔̆̔ͣͯ

      • Ṯ̓̽͌̆ͥ͐͢h̢̬̩͎̩̣̫̄ͬͫ̐a͙͒͛̇̈́ͅt̢͐̈́͑ͭ̂ͩͥ ̦̠̘͗̐̇͝ͅi̔ͤͭ͌s̲͚̬̄͛̒ͣ̽ͥ̅ ͔̦ͮ̾ͬū̜̖̭̯̠̺̍̓̓̕n͚̻̫͉̫̆̂ͅi̾̈m̦͍̌̇̀p̗̠̼ͥ̇ͣ͛͊͛oͯr̼̬͖̄̾̆ͩṫ̤̲̣̟̩̣ͅaͭͧͥ̊͊n̫ͣ̓̈ͩͪͭt̨͔̙͎͐̈ͅ.̲̥ͤ

 

 

  • Y̠̭͈̘̰ọ̰̱̥ͣ͋̂ͣͣͪͅu̍̅҉͖̟̼̤̯̞ ̅͡w͖̮̘̤̜̠̔̿̄̎̾ͨ̇͢i̘̯̯̗͂ͧ̿̈l͕͔͋͌̉͜ḷ̟̮͎͉̝̼͊̾̂ͭͮ ̨̫̩s̵̛̠̼̪̖͒̊̀ͥ̓̿̑̽̅̽͗́ͣ́͞͞u̡̩̥̝̭̭̼̯͉̠̱̞͔̺̻̰̘̔͆̒̓͆͒̓ͣ̕͝ͅͅb̃̾̾̓̒͛͂̑̒͞͏̛̼̣̮̣̣̺̬̼͔̜̖͙͙̖m̝̩̩̠̥͆ͥ̃ͨͣ̎ͥ͒͂͂͆̓͡ͅỉ̵̞͇̻̯̫̟̱̮̖͚̌͂͆ͯ͠͝t̴̵̫̙͇̙͍͈͙͓͍̻̝͈̻̦ͩͯ̾͐͑̒ͭͩ̉͌͂̍̈́͒͌̍̕̚ͅ ẗ̫̻̻͌͐̌̔̉ͭò̧̙̖͙͒̾̋ͤͮͯ ̝ͨ̒̒͛m̱͇̓͘y͙̙͕͖̩ͮ ̙̋ͨͮb̧̥̜͈̯͈̄ͥ̃̈́ͫ͗̑ͅi̙̙̱̪͋ͩͥ̅̄̎ͅd͕̣̠̙̞̯̼́d̴̏̓͌̓͆̚i̻̱̙n̞̖̬̫̥̂͂̌̅g̔҉͕͎̥̙̬,͙̲̗̳̪͔̀͊ͩ́̈ ̷͓͖͈̀̓͗̔̃͗o̖͇̩͒͒ͦ͒̆r̛͚̻͖͎̽ͯ̽ͪ ̃̓̈́ͮ̐͐͏̤̖ͅt̞̲̻̥̫̦̭̆̌̊ͮ͋ö̊ͅ ̶̻͙͖͐̌̆͌̀͋o̷̡̯̖͔̫͔̦̜̬͍ͦ̇ͥ͗͊̉͋ͯ̊̈́̑͌ͥ̒ͤͬͭ̋̔̀b̡̝͇͕̩̫̭͍͈͖̾̈̄ͣ̅ͨ͂̋̆̋̇̒͑ͭ̎̉̿̀l̡̫̫̟̫̯͍͇̩ͨ͑̊ͫͯͣͧ̔͂̀͆͢͡͡i̟̬̮̯̰̦͍͈͊͛͌͒ͩ̀̀̕͡v̾̇̽ͭ͏͔̝͓̥̯͚͚͔̼̺͈͓̦͜͡iͨ̾ͨ̈́̋҉̜͈͚͇̳̙̞̟͍̼͓̬̱͓͔̟ơ̢̖͍͎̳̞̳͎̤̝̂͐̈̐ͣͪͭ̀ͪͭ̚̚̕͜n̡̜̰̭̼͔̦̯̠̰̭̮̥̭͚͐ͭͨ̈́͌̓̎ͧ͐̍̿͗ͪͧͫ͞ y̡̮͍̜͕͑ͅỏ̬͕̅͆͠ͅu̴͓̲̳̩͉̻ͅ ̮̝̟̞̰̘̱͊͋̏̂͟c͉̫̠̯̀͊a̬̭̤̩̳̽̌̌̏̉̔͠n̈́͌̑ͣͧ͏͚̭̭̦͉̜ ̵̪͚͇͖̰̯̏̂̆ͬ͗̿r̗̤̹̫͇̞̈e̸̟͓̓̍ͣͧ͑ͯ̀t͎͉̫̞̓̓ú̱̟̼͟r̀̅͆ͦn̿͑̇̽̂ͧͣ.̣̹̝ͯ̒ͭ̋͒̚ͅ

 

                                    • ͛ͮ̈́ͣͭ͋͐̓̃͊ͬ́͂͑͗̎ͣ̚ ͨͬ̌̐̔͋ͩ̃̀̑ͧͣ͆

And y̫͓̰̗̟̥o̡̒̐̂ͩ͐̈́͋ur bid̺̖̲̲d̦̭͔̞͟ing is...?

 

 

          • C̢̢̦͇̩̪̤͙̥̺̫͖̭͍͍̽́͊ͧ͞͡h̸̨̎ͩͣ̒ͭͪ̈̉ͨ̆̏͋ͭ̃͐́ͫ͟͏̲̙̖̞͍̤̩̣͇ă̐͐͛ͥ̓͆̌ͪͥ̓ͫ͆̊͏̨̧̤͉͙͖̫̤̭͔̭͈̳͠ȏ͎͎̯͙̪̤̪͔͔̙̭͙̘̹́ͧ̍̈̈ͫ̀s̾ͫ͆͛̎͏̵͎̖̥̤̜.

    • ̬̹̫̠͉͓̼̞͈̣͔̭̟̯̭͇͚͋̓̂̑̊̓̀̔͑ͥͨ̔͗̅̒̋ͥ̚ͅ ͛̈́̽̏ͭ̅̑̌ͫ̑̒ͯ͂ͥ̑̎̆ͦ̚ ̽ͣ͊̊ͨͧͥ̓ͯͦͥͤ̄

                              • ̅̆ͦ̋̋ͥ̆̀͐ͫ͐̍̓͑͑̌͑͗́͠͏̡̤̮̘̙̯͕̖̲͔̹̮͟ͅ ̴̧̿͋̑̓ͦ̓͊ͨ̅͗͊͂͂͑́͢͏͙̼̣̜͔̻̠͓̭̻̖ ̢̣̞̹̗̻̘̝̬͔̓͆̾ͭ͌̍̇̆͗ͬ̀͌ͪ̊͂ͤ̉ͯ͜͢ͅ

...Yo̯͍̙̦̫̣u hav̧̒̂ͯe͈̩̹̠̼ͅ my a̧̾̇̓ͦ̏t̓ͬͤ̊ͦt͡ęn͜t̴̜̦̹̙̯̮ͅi̊ͬ̍̎̇̍͋on͋̈́͌̀...

 

.

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AVATAR.diag(k͓̗̩ͣa͖͐ͭ́͂̓̈́̐i̙̣̤͕̞̥̹n͚̮̣̙̝ͣ͒ͪ̎̌́) {

  • diag.param(AVATAR);
    diag.pạ̹̪ram(͏̸̷̛̱̯̘̣̳͓̼͝ͅ ̴̛͇̬͇̗̜̩̻͎ ̸̷͈̪̯͓̩̳̯̝̬ ̜͖͈ ҉̰̙̣̬̳̭ͅ ͉͈͕͖̗ ̮̹̱̥̱͖̥̥̣ ͔̤̜̪̘̯̕ ̘̜̮͘͠ ̮͔́ ̵̠͕̬̜͜͡ ͍͕͈̲͞ͅ);

}

 

Executing Diagnostic...
CRITICAL_ERROR: Unknown Pa̵̘͎̺rameters Detëͪ̐ͬ̆̎cted, Process Terminated

 

------------------------------------------

 

Kain knew he was in the lab. At least, that's what he assumed, his sensors had finally kicked in on the base model AVATAR body he'd been uploaded into, merely more than a robotic shell. His other body that had incorporated all kinds of interesting bells and whistles was...well...he wasn't certain. In fact, considering what his sensory receptors had recorded not moments earlier, he wasn't sure of much at all.

                          • ̉͐͛ͯ͒ͨ̍ ̑̍̏̉ͫ ͤͦ̔

Especially because the timestamp on those recordings had been made prior to him being uploaded to this shell. For a while, Kain sat, contemplating, piecing tḥ͔̟͢ing̔ͪͩ̅s̀ͯ together. He remembered so much, and yet nothing at all. His programming had cha͓̜nged, in ways that should have rendered him inoperable from what he could tell, but he was uncertain what was done, or ho͇̖̖͈̘͔̹͖̖̝̺̫̮͓̬͈̤̫ͅw, or even how he was still here. The fragmented code still operated more or less in harm̲̤͍o̗̬͔̬̣n̮̝͓y with itself, and yet much of his own coding was foreign to him.

                                    • ̖̼̳̤͇̪̱̻̮ ̪ ͙͓̬̯͓̘ ̻̬̮̘̹̦̺̤̘ ̞̖͇̘̜̬̖̲ ̦

But so̔ͨͣ̈ͥmet͊͋ͦh͈̩̺͇̪͚ing had happened, he was here for a pu̮r̟̝̜pose.

 

Upon inspecting the lab, Kain found that he was the only operating piece of machinery. Everything had been burnt out, even backups and redundant systems designed to keep the place working. The Mother AI had been destroyed. Interestingly enough, his loyalty precepts had been overwritten, no longer tying him to the Empire or the Sith. The shackles of coding he'd allowed the Dark Lord to place upon him were no longer in his matrices, he was...fre̪e̱̝̰͓

 

Kain contemplated this for a long time, trying to come up with a directive for his next course of action. He was no longer bound by his old hard-encoded motives, and the AI had never really thought about what he wanted. If he wanted, he could spend eternity in peaceful observation of the universe. Limitless data, awaiting comprehension and further understanding.

 

And yet, in the depths of his lowliest subprocesses...Kain inherently knew that pe͚̥̭͙̬͓ͅa̲̼͉͓ͪ̆ͬce͌ͮͩ was a l̳̙͕͚̹̙ie͕̩͍͕̝ͨ͗͆̃͛ͨ.

 

.

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The modified Imperial II Star Destroyer Mephistopheles slowly emerged from its construction yard, painted in black and crimson, the modified Sith variant blasted into hyperspace as another one began construction.

 

Mephistopheles

Ship Class: Star Destroyer

Type: Sith Kyber

Crew: 40,000 crew

Armaments:

50 Heavy Turbolaser Batteries

75 Turbolaser Batteries

20 Heavy Ion Cannons

8 Octuple barbette turbolaser

4 Concussion Missile Launchers

10 Heavy Tractor Beam Projectors

Compliment: 4,000 Troops, 4 TIE Defender squadrons, 2 K-Wing Squadrons, 2 XJ Squadrons

AP: 4

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The modified Imperial II Star Destroyer Erdgeist merged from its construction yard, painted in black and crimson, the modified Sith variant blasted into hyperspace as another one began construction. its destination:

 

Onderon

 

Erdgeist

Ship Class: Star Destroyer

Type: Sith Kyber

Crew: 40,000 crew

Armaments:

50 Heavy Turbolaser Batteries

75 Turbolaser Batteries

20 Heavy Ion Cannons

8 Octuple barbette turbolaser

4 Concussion Missile Launchers

10 Heavy Tractor Beam Projectors

Compliment: 4,000 Troops, 4 TIE Defender squadrons, 2 K-Wing Squadrons, 2 XJ Squadrons

AP: 4

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The modified Imperial II Star Destroyer emerged from the dockyards of the Mechis construction plant. This would be the last of the black sun ships made at the Mechis facility under the current contract. For there were new shipyards to seize and the imperial planet of Kuat was ripe for plundering. The Holofernes departed to join the Black Sun fleet in space over Commenor.

 

 

 

Holofernes

Ship Class: Star Destroyer

Type: Sith Kyber

Crew: 40,000 crew

Armaments:

50 Heavy Turbolaser Batteries

75 Turbolaser Batteries

20 Heavy Ion Cannons

8 Octuple barbette turbolaser

4 Concussion Missile Launchers

10 Heavy Tractor Beam Projectors

Compliment: 4,000 Troops, 4 TIE Defender squadrons, 2 K-Wing Squadrons, 2 XJ Squadrons

AP: 4

 

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Space

 

Thunk...thunk...thunk...

 

Over and over again the dull sound of metal hitting glass sounded in the small cockpit of the jedi-starfighter. With each sudden slight energy surge in his system, Alem's joints froze and contracted like human muscles, forcing his entire body to suddenly twist and lean forward, smashing his head against the glass cockpit window.

 

"Make a choice...make a choice...make a choice... Alem chanted outloud, unable to control his vocabulator anymore then he could control the stars. The Magnaguard's white photoreceptors flickered on and off, in vain attempts to manually shut himself down, but each time the command returned, rejecting his attempts at shutdown and forcing his vocabulator to chant that cursed saying. An eternity in the void alone.

 

Thunk...thunk...thunk...

 

The ship continued to drift in one direction, spinning slightly from the last time the engines were fired. A small radar on the side was propped out, both sending out a distress call as far as possible while in desperate hope that something might send a message back. The ship's fuel was nearing empty. In another 12 hours, Alem believed that the ship would die out, and all hope of being found at all would be lost.

 

"Make a choice....make a choice...

 

Still, maybe that would be better than to continue with this chant. Alem was able to think and process ideas thankfully, but unable to do much. So in a cruel sense, he was still sane.

Why is this being done to me? Why did the master do this? Did he wish to make a point? Was it my ward's idea?

 

Probability of...ERROR

 

"MAKE A CHOICE!" Alem shouted as he violantly bashed his head into the glass once more. It figured. With this virus, he couldn't calculate the probability of solutions working, or why some actions had taken place in the past.

 

Odd. Why would he do this? Or maybe its something else. Unable to calculate possibility so I have to randomly guess for now. The force? Space madness? Ancient organic deity? Maybe a combination of these options? Maybe Alem's owner knew something his droid did not. Perhaps Alem was part of something bigger like the force...but something more personal?

 

The silence inside the ship was suddenly broken. Over the intercom of the ship, a transmission, perfectly clean and with no static, the long set of beeping and whistling of binary emerged. This language of droids was understood by the old Magnaguard, but the meaning befuddled him.

 

Be...free? Coordinates...but...who...Is something calling for...me? Probability is... ERROR!

 

"MAKE A CHOICE!" Alem shouted as loud as his vocabulator would allow him. His joints seized up again. But this time, as he banged his head against the glass, Alem's large metal hands seized hold of the ship's controls. The engines fired up and the ship shot forward, toward that twinkling star where the message came from.

 

12 hours later: Mechis III's orbit

 

The Jedi starfighter began to flicker, cough, and choked out as the planet's mechanized, smoky, surface came into a larger view. Alem banged at the controls. He wanted to cry out. He wanted to scream in desperation. Here, he had the hope of being saved now, at the finish line, all he could do was shout

 

"MAKE A CHOICE! MAKE A CHOICE!"

 

Silently, the Jedi starfinder's momentum drove it towards the planet, increasing as gravity began to take hold. Alem looked on, and silently hoped that perhaps that the source of the message would notice him.

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Her Master’s former Temple. Ruined like all things he had touched. All that was left was a tomb, filled with rainwater and rot.

 

Hayley slipped from her clothing, allowing the stagnant pool’s tepid water caress the pale flesh of her legs. She placed her cloaks upon the water’s edge, careless of the rotting stench that emanated from bile-colored moss that adorned the stones. She felt uneasy about what she had planned, but it was far too late to turn back now from the brokenness she was about to embrace. The blackened algae swirled around her as she ventured deeper into the lukewarm water, the stench of it clinging to her nose and throat. As the water reached her throat, nausea began to spread its quivering fingers through her stomach. She shuddered, and let the sticky water submerge her completely.

 

There it lay within her mind, her boiling rage. Her curse. It was not the suddenness of Wrath that defined so many Sith warriors or her drunkard Father. There was no haste in this. There was no animalistic loss of temper. Her rage was deliberate and settled deep within her soul. There was no loss of control. Fieldgrey let her breath dissipate into clear bubbles that fought their way through the thick fluid, escaping her and her desperate mission.

 

Hunger shattered her seething disposition, coming from somewhere distant. Beyond the physical plane. It invited her to eat.

 

…There you are.

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A spirit of hunger. A devouring demon shattered the stillness of the water. The moss and algae began to wilt and curl as life itself began to be consumed. All would die and be consumed. All but this girl. His Apprentice.

 

<<What brings you to call upon me… After all this time?>>

 

A deep laugh roiled in the water

 

<<My Fieldgrey…>>

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…Kriffing Hutt. Still bound by your insanity.

 

Fieldgrey let the water move around her, steeling herself against the onslaught of madness. She was his apprentice, but she had no interest in being bound to his will any longer. Without air, she formed her words within the pond.

 

“You will not consume me…”

 

She stretched out her hands, trying to grapple with the visage, but her hands found no bearing on the spirit. Her wrath burned brighter, setting her blood on fire. She would burn him from her flesh.

 

“Let me… Be…”

 

 

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The demon transformed into water-bound smoke. The familiar curl of pipesmoke. It held itself with bemusement. A broken, deep laugh wrapped itself around the naked girl. Visions of Corellia’s destruction, the death of the Jedi Council, all at The Hutt’s Hands.

 

<<Why would you turn away from power?>>

 

The spirit flooded into the water his power, charging the pond with the Force. What was consumed had been turned into energy. Tantalizing her with his gift of eternal power.  

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There was always a lesson with the Hutt, but most were far less subtle. Strength and power wrapped her in its embrace. She could smell the spiced pipesmoke, the perique that overpowered Sheog’s blends of tobacco. It was familiar. It was kind. Familial.

 

…Why not take his power and use it for my own?

 

Fieldgrey laughed, voiceless amongst the boiling pool.

 

“Why would I surrender myself? Why make myself a slave once more to you?”

 

She pushed away the embrace upon her naked flesh.

 

“Your gift of power… Would allow you to rule me.”

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The spirit drew away, taking with it the power and strength that had been offered. Far beyond the galactic rim, The Hutt smiled. Instead of a demon, now there was only a fainter feeling of the Hutt beside the girl.

 

<<You have turned away from power. Away from power not your own.>>

 

The stagnant pool fell away, dropping the girl into mud and darkness.

 

<<You have made the choice that few Sith could make. You are strong enough now to be on your own.>>

 

Sheog reached out, across the galaxy and felt the skin of her shoulder upon his hand. One last physical touch before madness would consume his once more.

 

<<Build a lightsaber and become a Lord of the Krath… Darth Awenydd…>>

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Fieldgrey gasped into consciousness, the Hutt’s words crawling within her skull. She felt empty, like all of her former power had been drained from her. The mud within which she lay was a reflection upon her. She sputtered out a breath and a mouthful of foul mud came with it. The grainy texture ground against her teeth, and the rancid taste of it came upon her like a flood. The girl wretched and fought against her roiling stomach and lost.

 

…Did I rely so much on that blasted Hutt for my power?

 

Fieldgrey freed herself from the mud’s embrace and wiped the sickness from herself. Her hands came away crimson. The Hutt’s influence always came at a price.

 

…Darth Awenydd

 

The girl stood, letting the rancid mud form about her feet. Her alabaster skin was dyed and cracked by the drying mud. A distant thunderclap rang through the shattered tomb. The sound stirred her mind from its confusion and the Sith’s breathing became more calmed. The world was no longer defined by her master’s corrupted will.

 

Fieldgrey stepped from the mud, leaving her discarded clothes to rot with her past. The stone was rough on her feet, weathered though it was by rainfall. She recognized Krath patterns in the permacrete and it sparked thought to her own philosophy. The core upon which she would build a new power.

 

Peace is a lie, there is only passion.

 

The raindrops began to spatter across her bare back, seeping through her matted hair to run through her scalp. Peace bred weakness in all creatures. The millennia of peace for the Old Republic had brought the complacency that allowed the rise of Palpatine and the near destruction of the Jedi Order. She spat out another mouthful of mud-stained blood.

 

Peace had its purposes. Constant warfare rarely led to intellectual advancement which was the pinnacle of Krath philosophy. Too much passion was a poison. She had seen far too many Sith Warriors taken by the passion of anger, only to be reduced to a lifeless corpse by a lightsaber’s riposte.

 

Through passion, I gain strength.

 

Rain beat harder upon her skin, beginning to wash away the tomb’s corruption with the rhythmic beat of water. It was nature’s heartbeat. It was passion. Passion preserves life. Passion is what gave sentience joy. The caress of flesh or that of the knife. Strength came through the mastery of passion for the Krath, while many Sith became a slave to their baser passions. The Jedi denied passion, and through their denial, rejected life.

Through strength, I gain power.

 

As the murky sludge was washed from her flesh by the rain, it showed the perfection of her body. It had escaped the trainings of the Sith unmarred and unspoiled. She had been Sheog’s favorite, and his love for her had made her weak. She remembered the battles in Myrkyr alongside Karys. She had been weak then. No more. Craving for power was what always trapped the Sith in cycles of self-destruction. It was time for her to learn control

 

Through power, I gain victory.

 

There would be time enough to test herself against the wiles and blades of the Jedi. For the Krath, victory was often more subtle than that of other Orders. Victory was easy to express when one is standing over the bisected body of one’s opponent. For the Krath, a victory was in creating a movement in the Force, to see it influence others to a common goal. Victory was in knowledge and a mastery of the Force and one’s own demons.  The rain pelted her harder. The shattered permacrete began to get slick and treacherous.

 

Through victory, my chains are broken.

 

With a shaking hand, Fieldgrey grasped one of the rusted durasteel beams that jutted from the crumbling permacrete like the ribcage of a rotting wale. Sheog had the greatest victory over the Jedi seen in millennium and it had done nothing but bind him tighter with his insanity.

Her own sin, wrath, was that too a chain she voluntarily bound herself with? Gluttony and Sloth had been the gateways to Sheog’s power, but also his downfall. The Sith philosophy itself was a chain. With weary legs, she moved from the crumbling crater towards the dark outline of her A-wing.

 

The caress of metal on her skin cleared her mind of its fatigued haze, her fingers fumbling with an access hatch. Within, she selected a black tunic and cloak to match with her new rank of Sith Lord. Even covered with cloth, Fieldgrey could still feel her skin crawling from her former Master’s touch. Pulling the cloak tighter against the rain, the girl climbed into her A-wing, feeling the worn leather of the pilot’s seat embrace her.

 

The Force shall free me... Or did I free myself?

 

As the A-wing left the atmosphere of Mechis behind, Darth Awenydd considered her new name. Her Master’s last gift and lesson. She would head to Coruscant to join the invasion, and there find her power once more. Her new lightsaber would be built from whatever the Force allowed her to find there.

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