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Trulalis


Tarrian Skywalker

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The auburn-haired woman turned to John, a soft smile gracing her face.

 

"And I you," she responded, as she piloted the ship out of the pull of the planet's gravity.

 

The two sat in a slight silence as the computer calculated the coordinates for hyperspace travel.

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Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see.

PM Mirdala if you'd like a timely response.

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Brad's X-Wing left lightspeed and landed the shuttle quickly on the planet below. The Force had drawn him here, yet he was unsure why. Reaching out, he tried to gather the reason he was here. He sensed the presence of other Jedi near by. He quickly got out of his starfighter and went to join them.

 

He saw them boarding an Imperial shuttle and went into it as well. He was sure they were on a mission of some importance, however the exact details were unknown to him. For better or worse, however, they would have his help.

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The Crusader-class corvette, Cabur, kept in orbit around the spinning planet of Trulalis.

 

Inside, in the cockpit, John and Xae sat quietly.

 

Through the vibrations of the force, it was impossible to fully hide her nervousness from John.

 

It wasn't that her nervousness was a bad thing. She knew she'd be a fool if she wasn't anxious about going to break the Grandmaster out of prison. Xae knew that she didn't have the experience that any of the other Jedi had, and to her knowledge she was the only Padawan that was in the mix.

 

When they'd entered orbit around Trulalis, she thought that they'd land and she would defer to the more experienced Jedi to do the fighting, but as of yet the Cabur hadn't recieved docking clearance or instructions.

 

She'd already picked up the requested weapons, so she hailed the facility again, using the same channel that had been used to send the call in the first place.

 

"This is the Cabur, the vessel of Jedi Knight John Hartel and his Padawan Xae-Lin Ardel. We have the supplies that were requested and request permission to dock. Is Amon Saulot there?"

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Faith is the confidence that what we hope for will actually happen; it gives us assurance about things we cannot see.

PM Mirdala if you'd like a timely response.

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"Sleeping cabras, all of them. How can we expect the next government to succeed with these fools as its guardians? Why does my daughter even tolerate them?"

 

Sarrah remained silent; Misal's dislike of the Jedi order was famous among her friends and kin, but it wasn't anything personal. It was mostly founded in the doctrine of the Jedi Order--her latest temper tantrum was only due to its apparent lackadaisical attitude towards the capture of its leader.

 

But her cursing was distracting him, and he was trying to plot a course into hyperspace.

 

"Misssal... remaining here will only wassste time that we do not have.”

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  • 3 weeks later...
  • 1 year later...

An unassuming matte black YT-2400 freighter dropped out of hyperspace on the far edges of Issor system. The frighter, after getting its bearings in the system, proceeded to fly towards the planet Trulalis on low power in the hopes of keeping it from being picked up by any radar or heat sensing equipment. The ship's dark finish blended into the airless darkness surrounding it, refusing to reflect any light from the system's star. Within an hour, the ship was in geosynchronous orbit with the planet, attempting to stay hidden from its surroundings. The ship was waiting for something, but even its pilot did not know what he was waiting for...

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A flicker of pseudomotion marked the arrival of a ship that few would recognize. It had began life as a YT-2000 Corellian Stock Light Freighter, but since then it had been drastically altered by its pilot to be a fighting machine and prisoner transport vehicle, fast and deadly. It was a tough, battle-ready ship for a tough, battle-ready owner, the Mando'ad known for a long time by the moniker ShadowFett and less time by the title Moon Knight.

 

It was this man that was now at the helm, running an active sensor sweep for his contact. Anonymous contacts can't usually be found, he thought, though the sensor scan turned up something mildly interesting--a black YT-2400 that was apparently sitting in orbit above Trulalis, not participating in the usual civilian bustle. Probably just some shabuir waiting for his navicomputer to finish plotting a jump, Fett figured, granted that contacts usually checked out the person they were meeting from a distance.

 

Instead of immediately settling into an orbit, Moon Knight finished his active scan and didn't pick up anything else of particular interest. He decided he was willing to wait and took up an orbit similar to that of the YT-2400, not close enough to suggest he was watching it but in the general vicinity, since he was. It was sure as haran better than ignoring it.

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Aryian's ship dropped out of hyperspace, and the Master reached out with his senses, easily feeling the two presences he had summoned high in orbit. They had strong spirits, equally different but capable of serving a higher purpose. It was here that the Brotherhood would form, here that the Jedi and the Republic would be united as one and be forged into a weapon against their enemy. It was an augury, a favorable foretelling of things to come. The omen of peace.

 

Quickly Aryian sent out short range comms to the two ships, giving them landing instructions to a local spaceport and to meet him in a specific suite in a nearby hotel. Aryian would be able to tell if it was really them, as well as be able to detect whether they were being monitored. His ship raced past theirs, landing to the Hotel's private pad directly, already having prior clearance and reservation as a paid VIP. If only the staff really knew...just to be certain, he summoned the Force about him, disguising his face and clothing, and exuded a feeling that made people ignore the fact he was even there, one of the simplest and most useful Force techniques of subtlety. Someone looking for him specifically might notice, but to other passerby, he was simply another Joe in the masses.

 

In the room, he pulled out several datapads and loaded them with information, and waited. They would come.

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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ShadowFett picked up on the new ship's presence in the area immediately before receiving the comm confirming that this man was his contact. Strictly business, he thought concerning the communication. Enigmatic but admirable. Truth was, he still had no idea what he was even doing here except that he was following a hunch born of his intuition. As a Mando'ad, he had learned that his intuition was almost always right.

 

And so it was without hesitation that he turned his ship towards the surface of Trulalis, his curiosity satisfied about the ship he had been watching, since 2277 informed him that the comm had also been sent to that ship. He had been correct that the shabuir had been related to this meeting.

 

A few minutes with no questions asked placed him on a pretty good landing pad, and in full beskar'gam he strode down the ramp and headed for the hotel suite whose number he had been given. He paid the docking fee on his way and drew a few glances in the hotel lobby--it wasn't common to see a Mando'ad on Trulalis any more than it was anywhere else in the galaxy. But even here people knew better than to stare, and for the most part they pretended they didn't notice him.

 

When at last Moon Knight approached the suite, he didn't enter right away. He activated his buy'ce's penetrating radar to see into the room through a sort of computerized projection of what the system could pick up, and he quickly identified the fact that there was one human male inside, his posture not indicating any special level of alert.

 

His DNA scan labeled the man as Aryian Darkfire. The Jedi Master. Interesting, Fett thought. His relations had never been great with the jetiise, though he did not presently consider them his enemies. Since there was only one in the room, he was not in any danger, even if this was intended to be some sort of crude trap.

 

With a smirk he triggered the signal to request permisison to enter the room, imagining that the jetii would jump--Fett held in his hand a briefcase that had been modified to hold an Ysalamir, so Darkfire wouldn't have been able to sense his approach. Lesson one for the Jedi--your gift does not make you omniscient.

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Aryian looked up, expecting the call, but didn't sense anyone outside. It was then that he noticed it...whoever it was had an ysalamir. Aryian tensed inside momentarily, as that meant either the people he had called here were paranoid about Force adepts, or the impossible, he was followed and someone knew who he was. As it was, the three-meter diamater bubble blocked his talents from influencing the door switch, and with a grunt of annoyance he rose from where he was making coffene, and walked to the door, opening it.

 

In a blur of movement, Aryian's unignited lightsaber hilt was under the chin of the Mando's helmet. Both men froze for a slight instance, hesitation on whether this was a hostile encounter or not. Aryian couldn't take the chance after he had opened the door, and Fett didn't know who had brought him here. But if he was smart, he wouldn't react with his near natural combat reflexes. If the lightsaber was at any other point than the weak point at the neck, and this man was hostile, he would already be at a serious disadvantage. Mandalorian steel was known for its anti-lightsaber properties, and as a trained mandalorian he would have been able to snap Aryian's arm in two with a quick movement. And in the cold Force-null bubble of the ysalamir, Aryian would have had to rely on his own close combat training, which matched against a Mandalorian was a challenge on a whole new level.

 

After a half-second of studying him, Aryian removed the lightsaber, bowing in a submissive and apologetic manner, in a body language that easily conveyed he was not a threat. He quickly shot a glance up the hallway, ensuring he could talk without being overheard.

 

"Sorry. I didn't expect anyone to bring a ysalamir. Normally people don't even know much about them, not to mention I withheld my identity. The chances of you bringing an ysalamir in my mind were incredibly slim. Anyways, come in, relax. There's coffene if you want some. We can talk business in a minute, though I trust you've already made good use of the credits I already sent. And if you don't mind, keep that thing away from me for the time being, I need to be alert for the others to arrive."

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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James stopped in orbit around Trulalis, he wasn't told anywhere specifically to go and so stayed there. He knew that this was important but he didn't know how, he was relatively new to the Republic and knew that it wasn't likely they would trust him with something dire. One thing that also confused him was that he was contacted from an anonymous source, he hoped it wasn't a trap and should have checked it out but he was too naive and trusted everyone.

 

He sat there waiting for some type of further instruction, his mind was on other things but had a part of mind specifically focusing on the com.

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James snapped out of his daze when a com came in. He followed the instructions of where to land intently, he noticed that a couple other ships were there and his muscles relaxed a bit as he knew that he wasn't alone. He walked into the suite and looked around, he noticed a man in armor and a Jedi. James thought that the man in Mandalorian armor was his brother but quickly realized it wasn't and turned to the Jedi and appproached him, he figured he was in charge.

 

"Sir, are you the one who sent the com?" He asked respectfully.

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((It wouldn't be immediately obvious to you that I'm a Jedi, the only reason Moon knew was because of a DNA scanner. Though I don't mind.))

 

Aryian turned from the view that the windowed door to the balcony provided, seeing another man had entered the room. He reached out with the Force, closing it behind him and this time, locking it. He also caught a brief glimpse of the man's thoughts, though now was not the time to be discussing such things. Maybe the Master would bring it up later, maybe he wouldn't, right now he had bigger fish to fry.

 

"At ease, lieutenant. Make yourself comfy. I am indeed the one who sent you the orders. You've been reassigned to me, and though you still hold rank in the Alliance fleet, you no longer answer to them. From here on out, you take orders from me, and me alone. We'll discuss details momentarily. The Mandalorian here is a bounty hunter who goes by Fett. Fett, Lieutenant Krote, formerly property of the Alliance Navy."

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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((I am playing Krote like he can read people, I'll try to go into his back story later. And I know this is short but I am horrible with posting when there isn't much to describe on.))

 

Krote's eyes darted towards the bounty hunter as he was mentioned.

 

"Yes, sir." He stated with a salute.

 

He nodded before making his way to a chair and sat down. He wanted to know exactly who the man was, if he was to answer to him he needed to know who he was. He pushed those thoughts put of his mind and gathered himself, he waited for what was to come with excitement.

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The pilot, who slightly dozing in the pilot's chair at the time, was quickly brought back to his senses as he saw a familiar ship pass by. "So, it was him that called me here, but how did he find me?" the pilot thought casually to himself. Sure, he had met Aryian before and even worked with him on occasion, but to him that felt like a past life. So much had happened since the last time he had seen that Jedi Master that the pilot was sure he was a completely different person.

 

Realizing he would be better off pondering his thoughts on his life some other time, the pilot set the YT-2400 in motion towards the surface, following the instructions given to him by Aryian. After paying the docking fee, the man began to walk towards the indicated room. No one on the street would have been able to recognize him, with his completely unkempt and long hair and an untrimmed goatee. It was not his past appearance, but he had been gone from civilized life for so long the man was sure he was forgotten.

 

Since the man knew that at least one person knew who he was, he decided not to restrain the Force within himself at this particular meeting. It had been so long since the man had used the Force, and as he welcomed its presence in himself once again, he felt a new and familiar strength rush back into his body. Reaching out into the room, he was unable to sense part of it, which was odd, but he still detected Aryian and another person inside.

 

Unsure what exactly he was called here for, the man unlatched the DL-44 Heavy Blaster holstered at his side, ready to draw it quickly to his hand if necessary. After all, Aryian might have searched for him to discipline him for basically ditching the Jedi Order. If he thought that this man was going down without a fight, he was sorely mistaken. With his senses on full alert, the man knocked on the door three times, hoping an ambush did not wait for him on the other side.

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Aryian smirked as Krote saluted, then sat down. The kid needed to relax, Aryian didn't need a salute. Shortly thereafter, three knocks sounded on the door, and Aryian felt Brad outside. It wasn't immediately obvious obvious to the Master, but Aryian could tell Brad hadn't used the Force in quite some time. The Master tapped into it himself, keying the door and letting him in, shutting and sealing it behind the Jedi.

 

"Brad, good to see you again. It's been a while. Don't mind the Mando, he's here for the same reason you are. Have some coffene if you want. Now that everybody's here, gentlemen, I'd say it's about time I went over why we're all here today."

 

Aryian grabbed a chair, sitting in it rather comfortably, and waited for the others to make themselves comfortable.

 

"I'm a pretty decent hacker. Not to brag, but I did slice into the Republic intelligence networks to track each of you down, to get information on you. I chose you out of hundreds because you exemplify exactly what I need, a fast, clean combat prowess and a drive to help the galaxy. In case you haven't noticed, the Jedi and the Republic have been doing a piss-poor job. That can be partially blamed on me, I am a councilman after all. But this is my move to correct it."

 

He handed them all datapads, giving them a moment to look over them as he sat back down.

 

"What you'll see there is the official proposal to create a group, a splinter agency of sorts that incorporates the best of the Jedi and the Republic and anyone else I deem able in order to bring about the endgoals of both factions. Peace. That peace will likely not come in any of our lifetimes, but we must nonetheless lay the groundwork and foundation for it. Fett is probably wondering right about now why he's here. As a Bounty hunter, peace means less work for him. Quite simply, Mr. Fett, I'm asking you to resign your title as bounty hunter for a while and come work with me. I can promise the absolute best gear and resources the Republic can afford, and action a footsoldier only dreams about. Krote, you're here because you're one of the best and brightest recruits, and partially I suspect because Onderin wanted one of his own men looking in on me. Brad, you're here because I know I can trust you, and I know this is an ideal you can stand behind. I know you left for a long time, but the fact remains that once a Jedi, always a Jedi. It changes you."

 

Aryian paused, standing and allowing them to absorb all this information at once. It was a good deal to swallow, a very important life descision, even though the Master presented it smoothly and casually.

 

"If you decide in favor of all this, then you won't exist. We will erase all traces that you ever were, take every measure that we can to ensure you won't be recognized. Fake deaths if necessary. If you decide against all this, specifically you, Mr. Fett, then I can just erase the memories of why you were here. It wouldn't matter if you trust me to do that at this point, I am ready and capable of doing so by force. I won't risk the integrity of this unit, though I know it won't be an issue. I already trust all of you."

 

He sat back down, steepling his fingers in front of his mouth.

 

"Well gentlemen...you've been given one hell of a choice. If you want, you have until tomorrow to decide, don't leave the Hotel. But the sooner you decide, the better."

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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When Fett had entered the room, he had deliberately presented himself as non-hostile--his penetrating radar was still active and thus he had guessed that the lightsaber would spring to life immediately as he had opened the door. During the time Darkfire had the blade near his neck, Fett was able to read him well enough to know that the jetii understood that he didn't really have the upper hand here. This was good--Darkfire was sensible.

 

He didn't say anything, but moved across the room so that Darkfire would be outside the ysalamir's bubble. When others started showing up, Fett switched off his penetrating radar and studied them as they came in--a former Republic officer and a man introduced as Brad, a name to which Fett pinned Warren. Another jetii.

 

ShadowFett only nodded when he was introduced to people, preferring to hold off on making a first impression as anything other than an observer, interested in hearing the proposal for which he had been called. When that proposal was finished, an eyebrow twitched beneath his buy'ce. This man was asking him to become cuy'val dar and fight the Empire and Sith directly.

 

As Moon Knight, he immediately identified this as an opportunity. As Fett, the loner, the Mando'ad whose past with factions ended with pain and vengeance, he was extremely hesitant to accept this arrangement. Furthermore, he was offended by the benefits that Darkfire offered him--money and action. Fett had very little care for the former, for he was no mercenary. The latter was a little more ideal for Mando'ade such as himself, but he wasn't convinced that this group would offer him more than he could get on his own.

 

Or maybe he was just stubborn--and it wasn't being atin, he knew. He remembered what the hut'uun Piccolo had done to him, remembered the sting of betrayal. Remembered trusting someone only to suddenly come to the realization that he was a shab'la chakaar like everyone else in the galaxy, the lowest kind of scum that said he believed one thing but lived something completely different. For Mando'ade, it was one's actions that said what they believed--anything else was theoretical osik with which one deluded oneself.

 

So maybe Moon Knight was right on this one--the part of him that was sworn to defeat evil and align himself with good. He hadn't taken orders since the Black Sun, so it'd mean some adjustments would need to be made, but he had no doubt within his mind that he could do it. After all, he was ShadowFett, the verd that became whatever he needed to become in order to achieve his ultimate goals and uphold his deepest principles.

 

Finally he nodded, several seconds having passed by but all these thoughts perfectly hidden behind the Force-less bubble in which he stood and the dark mask which had become his face. "I'll do it," he said, his first words since arriving on-world. But not because of your insipid benefits, he added mentally, but because it gets me where I'm going.

 

The road to perfection was a long one. What lay on the road before Fett would accelerate his course. In the process, he might just get another shot at some old enemies....

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Fett was the first to speak after several seconds, accepting the offer. This piqued Aryian's curiosity. With his implant, he activated his ship's long-range features, attempting to slice the computer in the Mando's suit, with the innocent intent of giving him a simple message on his visor to read, visible and detectable to only him. If it failed, his ship would only send it in a text-comm format.

 

[You know, I think we have a lot more in common than you think, vod. We must akaanir this aka to bring am to the galaxy. I may not know you like I'd like to, but you don't know me either. We can fix that later. If you truly will join me, you might as well know the man you work with.]

 

Aryian thought a moment, staring right at Fett, trying to read what was going through the man's mind. There was a cold stare behind the mask, the man was obviously good. But Aryian had known several Mandalorians, and had placed this one incorrectly when he thought of him as a bounty hunter. If he were, there would have been no hesitation. For whatever reason he was doing this, it wasn't among the ones the master had listed.

 

"I'd like to clarify something."

 

He spoke, still staring at the Mando, attempting to float his hunch and get the man to trust him a little, or at the least not detest working with him.

 

"While I am to be the leader of this group, and I do have the final say, this will be a group of equals. I will coordinate our missions and assign roles, but everyone here will have equal say, including me. A team cannot work if an attempt isn't made to satisfy or meet its members needs and wants."

 

Put that in your pipe and smoke it, Mr. Tall-and-Silent.

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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Moon Knight's droid, 2277, had a constant link to Fett's buy'ce, and as soon as there was an external slicing attempt, it not only caught it and worked to counteract it, but alerted ShadowFett to the development. Still, the slicing attempt was labeled non-hostile when 2277 determined that it was only an attempt to plant a message, and the attempt quickly defaulted to a docile state.

 

Still, it wasn't a great move by Darkfire, and the message made Fett's eyes flash, another emotional reaction that was lost on those observing him. Suddenly the jetii was claiming to be or at least have ties to the Mando'ade, and the mere thought of it made Fett's blood boil. There was a quintessential truth about Mandalorians, and this was clear--no man could be a jetii and a Mando at the same time. Fett was open-minded enough to realize that a Mandalorian could become a Jedi and vice versa, but never both at once.

 

Therefore, Darkfire was either darmanda and using his knowledge to attempt to inspire loyalty in Fett, or he happened to know a few words in Mando'a and was using them for the same end. Once again Fett's mind and emotion clashed, but once again he proved that he was a man that had overcome his demons. His mind was a weapon and the strongest part of who he was.

 

Although Darkfire had mis-stepped, ShadowFett was able to see the true motive behind the words, as reinforced by the sentences that came next. He was really just trying to make Fett feel welcome, though he knew not how. The jetii really did know what he was getting himself into by inviting Fett to this faction, and this was respectable. There was something in Darkfire that was beyond the usual blind righteousness of the Jedi Order, exemplified in the role into which he had now placed himself. Perhaps, in time, he could be mandokarla. But if that was his goal, he had a long way to go, and that direction was straight away from the jetiise.

 

Finally, after another few seconds of delay, Fett shook his head slowly to express his disapproval of the message, his gaze still locked with Darkfire's. To avoid ambiguity as to what he was disapproving of, he put his vocal chords into motion again. "A commendable arrangement," were the words he formed.

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An unmarked YT-2400 light freighter came out of hyperspace and pulled into orbit.

 

Above the planet, Mirdala considered the line of choices that had converged to bring her to this particular location, both physically and in her life. The call for action, to bring honor to her clan, and the lure of space called to her soul and brought her from her quiet life on Tatooine to the lush world of Trulalis.

 

A she continued to orbit the planet, she took stock of some of the tourist things to do on the world. Her "other sense" pulling harder at her than ever as she came across a sky-diving ad.

 

An idea was growing in her mind, as was the pull of the call. Deciding to fully give herself over to that instinct, that feeling, she prepped for a sub-orbital jump, keying in the auto-pilot to keep the ship in orbit once she was away and clear. She stepped out, only once questioning her own sanity in accepting the offer, deciding that it was now or never and finally committing to seek out the one that sent the original message, and jumped.

 

To the average by-stander she'd just appear to be a jumper from one of the various high-adventure tourist companies that populated the planet, as she rocketed through the atmosphere, her small form streaking towards the planet's surface, her own destination unknown to her. She trusted her instincts when she finally opened the parachute and glided down to an open field on the outskirts of town, the chute itself springing back into it's housing on her armor as she made her landing.

 

As quietly as she'd landed on the planet's surface, she made her way towards the city proper, against her better judgment, allowing the call to lead her, at the same time wondering why she was abandoning her usual cautiousness and was not even sure of her own destination.

 

She used her suit's scanners to pick up random bands and transmissions to get a feel for the general radio traffic in the area and to see if her jump and been noticed by anyone of note, though she was sure that it wouldn't be reported as in her research she'd chosen a popular landing spot for thrill-seeking tourists and local adrenaline junkies.

 

Switching to thermal scan, she located an abandoned and unpopulated warehouse where she changed into some less conspicuous clothing and did her hair up so as to appear like a privileged teenager that was doing some traveling around the galaxy, wide-eyed and curious at the world. She'd designed her armor to fit into a special backpack that held with it a small anti-grav unit to compensate for the weight of the armor so that it was not obvious that the pack contained little else than the randomness that would normally be found in a teen girl's backpack.

 

As she stepped back out onto the street she was dressed in a black long-sleeved shirt with a multi-pocketed vest housing a few of her shorter knives and a small blaster as well as a white skirt under which was a pair of black leggings worn with her boots. Her hair was done up in two loose buns, adding to her youthful disguise along with a set of what appeared to be sunshades, but were in fact another connection to her visor's scanner.

 

He'd said that he'd be the one to find her, rather than the other way around. En route, she'd listened to the com constantly, patterning his voice, hoping to recognize him before he found her. To keep up the casual facade, she wandered into a local market place, browsing the wares while keeping her ears up for his voice, her "other sense" telling her that she was in the right city at least and in the right part of town.

 

She wondered down one of the side streets that were lined with hotels, seemingly randomly looking at one or the other, but really scanning each window, mentally keeping track of how many she saw gathered in each, wondering when the sender of the mysterious message would make contact.

 

She settled on waiting outside in one of the hotel's cafe's, casually reading a datapad containing some grand novel or other, she wasn't really paying attention, but was back to scanning audially for the origin of her message.

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Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. - "Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger."

“A Mandalorian woman's greatest talent is not her charm or beauty, but her strength of body and will.” - Mandalorian proverb

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"And so he does remember me," Brad thought as he sat listening to Aryian's proposal. It seemed like another waste of time to him, after all, he had been in the Jedi Special Forces and another of other agencies that attempted to do what was necessary to defeat the dark side. Then again, Aryian was one of the few people in the order that Brad considered trustworthy, and he wondered if this time some good might be done.

 

There were many reasons that Brad had left the Jedi Order. Everyman has his breaking point, and after enduring loss after loss in his time with the Jedi, he had enough. The Order had been the basis of his life for many years, but it seemed that anything concerning them was tainted with weakness. When they should have been protecting the innocent, they were hampered by their own teachings. This group certainly seemed different than that. Perhaps, this time, those surrounding him would have the drive to do what was necessary to defeat the Empire.

 

"Alright, I'll join this little team," Brad said shortly after the Mandolorian. This, to Brad, was his chance at redemption, not only for the crimes he had committed since leaving the Order, but also the failure of the lost Padawan that still haunted him. He had been drowning out his demons with pleasure and the thrill of smuggling and living for onself, but now it seemed that he would be serving a higher purpose once again.

 

Then, in the surrounding city, Brad felt a presence unlike that of the normal citizens. While his senses were still adjusting to the aid of the Force once again, he could tell that there was some power to this being, although he could not detect its intentions. "Aryian, I think we've got some company."

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James thought about it for a moment, he was one of the best and brightest which caught him by surprise. He knew that this was an elite group; a couple of Jedi, a bounty hunter and teenager. He knew that they wanted him for his technology skills which were pretty advanced and assumed he was the only only one with those skills that they could find. It would be easy enough to fake his death as he had no family other than his brother who he hadn't seen in awhile and was probably dead already and nobody really befriended him as he was always the loner. He made up his mind and was going to help.

 

"I'll do it." He stated without even looking up to see their responses.

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The wind scoured the world for answers be-known to mankind, beautifully carving the landscape with its uncompromising fingers, all the while commanding a weeping calm. Thick rivets of dust leapt out of the way, and filled the valley with a masquerade of sunburnt dirt. Effortlessly, the world and all its forces had built an eerie dominion out of rock and sand; everlasting structures void of technology and civilization. Although ever-changing, they would outlast every single living creature however naive or all knowing they may be. The anonymous vessel drew a path far from this planet but made it here with haste as the communications relayed to the pilot built an immediate interest. Nevan kept low and pushed the machine at a clandestine pace as he neared his destination which soon led him into a structured and developed settlement. His hand traced the controls and a powerful retina trained the radar while he kept his intuitive senses about him. On the outskirts, Nevan opted to abandon the vessel and unload the speeder bike from the cargo space to accomplish his journey. ”œWell, this is it.”

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((Ooohhhh...I plan to spend a LOT of time with Fett...>.>))

 

Aryian's brow furrowed almost slightly as he heard Fett speak again, yet not enough to give anything away, only that he was still in discontent of the condition of the relationships in the group thus far. But the Mandalorian had agreed verbally, and for the time being, that would be enough. Aryian wasn't in his trust yet, but he had his foot in the door, and that was what mattered. Time would do the rest, and he couldn't afford to focus on this presently.

 

It was Brad that alerted him, knocking him out of his thoughts as he was alerted to the presence of a Force adept near them. Normally such a thing was near commonplace, beings sensitive to the Force in a variety of levels were found on most planets, but this one was different, the Force had tied them to this gathering. They were untrained, yet it was most certainly one of the ones Aryian had summoned. Another had come as well, a Jedi padawan whose presence Aryian was slightly familiar with. Both had a fairly decent presence in the Force, so they weren't hard to focus in on, but for some reason the Blur couldn't get a line-of-sight comm locks through the ionosphere, blaming the phenomena on a solar flare. When it was first able, it sent the comm, giving instructions to the hotel and the room number. ((i.e. in your next post))

 

Back in the hotel room the Master surveyed the three before him. Brad had his doubts, and rightfully so. They were the same doubts Aryian had about the Jedi, and this group smelled strongly of them, though the Master was determined to forge their path differently.

 

"Then it is settled. We four are the first, yet there are others coming. Know that here, now you swear an oath of brotherhood with the other members of our band, that our needs and actions are paramount to everything else. Support your brothers; they will support you. All or nothing, victory or death. Such is the code we have built, founded upon blood, sweat, and tears. And I hope to any cosmic deities that be that our enemies realize it will only be upon their blood, sweat, and tears. I swear to you now that nothing will stop us from laying waste to the ranks of our foes as if they were lambs led to the slaughter. Very soon a base will be finished, and we will gather there to train and plan. And shortly after that, we will begin assaulting the enemies of the Republic. You may do as you please until then. Of course, you are always free to stay here until then, and if you have any questions about this at all, you may ask me using any secure means of communication available."

 

Aryian looked at each of them again, Krote, a young man who had yet to realize hos potential, Brad, an old friend whose demons haunted him daily, and Fett...especially Fett, the Mandalorian warrior that was likely far more than he appeared.

 

The Master rose from where he was sitting, moving again to the sliding glass door of the balcony, his eyes scanning the streets below for any sign of the other two.

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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ShadowFett continued to listen to Darkfire and the others talk. It seemed firstly that the jetii had picked those that would attend this meeting well--if one had refused, there could potentially have been trouble. Though Darkfire claimed to be able to erase people's memories, Fett didn't figure he'd have let such a thing transpire had he found this cause ignoble.

 

Just as interesting was the oath Darkfire explained. It was a little bit too speechy and grandiose for the simple audience, and in that respect Fett found it distasteful, but some of the concepts driving it were sound. Darkfire had attempted to bind the group as vode, which was sound, and had mentioned victory or death, which was a concept in which Fett already believed firmly. Finally, he had bound them to a relentless stance in the war, a final thing that Fett favored. We'll see if he's dar'manda at a later time. Right now he's a little smarter than your average barve, so this has potential.

 

At Darkfire's offer to let them leave and regroup, Moon Knight remained where he was. He figured if there were more potential members coming, he'd do well to meet and appraise them early. Darkfire was gathering mostly elite agents, and among that crew were chakaare and shabuire of the worst sort, along with the verda and ge'verda. Darkfire seemed to know the difference, but Fett would stay anyway.

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As she was slyly scanning the hotel windows in the area, her glasses interlink with her armor's computer was interrupted as an unknown ship sent her instructions and directions to the hotel that she was quite literally sitting in the front of at it's outdoor cafe. The message also included a suite number.

 

Appearing as though she'd gotten bored with people-watching, Mirdala rose as her thermal scanner clicked back on, and on a whim she crossed the street quickly to scan the windows of the hotel, noting the windows on the floor level where the suite was numbered to be, a little surprised, but at the same time not to see a figure meeting eyes with her from behind her glasses.

 

For just a moment she pondered whether or not to follow the instructions, taking just a second longer to contemplate whether or not this was a trap or not. Finally she crossed the street again and entered the hotel lobby.

 

Once inside, she took the elevator to the floor below the suite, slipping in to one of the maintenance closets to get back into her armor.

 

She took the stairs to the next floor and found the door, activating the chime and awaited admission.

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Ke barjurir gar'ade, jagyc'ade kot'la a dalyc'ade kotla'shya. - "Train your sons to be strong but your daughters to be stronger."

“A Mandalorian woman's greatest talent is not her charm or beauty, but her strength of body and will.” - Mandalorian proverb

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Aryian wore a slight look of confusion for a moment as he found the person in an outdoor cafe in the street below. And when she came up, this time in Mandalorian armor when he opened the door, he hesitated a moment.

 

Her Republic dossier never mentioned this contact being Force sensitive, and Aryian had been slightly curious as to exactly whom she was when she was first sensed. Now he knew, and the thought chilled him to the bone. Another Force-sensitive Mandalorian...that made all of two or three in the galaxy. It was either fate, or luck, and Aryian wasn't about to quibble about it. She was here, ready to hear whatever he had to say to her. He spoke first and spoke quickly as the door opened.

 

"You are among friends, know that first and foremost."

 

The one simple sentence would help put her at ease and prevent a firefight. One thing the Master had noticed so far was that almost nobody trusted the others in this group, because nobody knew each other. As such, one could cut the tension in the air with a butter knife.

 

"I'm not here to offer a bounty, but I am here to offer you a job. A long term job that is dangerous and almost tailored to a person of your skills. This meeting is meant to be secret and secure, so if you choose not to accept my offer, I will gladly remove the memories of why you even came here in the first place. It is painless, and quick. As to why you have been brought here...If you don't know, I am Aryian Darkfire, Jedi Master and former councilman. As of today I am resigning from that position to pursue the formation and operation of this group, whose purpose is to be a tightly knit task force of elite combat personnel, their aim to bring destruction to the enemies of the Republic by any means necessary. Granted, it is a bit odd that a Jedi is initiating the formation of this group, as it is opposite their teachings, but I've learned long ago that war spares no set of morals in tearing them asunder, and sometimes you have to do what must be done in order to achieve the greater victory. This group assembled here...is what must be done. It is a stepping stone. And you would be a valuable addition to it. You have a day to decide whether or not you should join, but in that time I ask you not to leave the hotel."

 

It all came out very plainly, nearly the same way he had described it to the others. The choice had been presented to her before she had the chance to speak, and now the ball was in her court.

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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