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  1. Today
  2. Leena walked along beside the Knight, ignoring his recoil at her touch. Whatever plagued the man was deeper than a surface revulsion if she, her position, or her order. She regarded the man for a moment before falling back into step with him as they walked. She listened as he spoke. A smile tugged at the corners of her weary face. She did not understand the bleeping droid, unsure if it was angry or joyful as it careened through the underbrush. She took that it could not be too bad. The bot was following them after all. After Lok finished speaking, Leena turned his words over in her mind. It was true, they were going in blind as it were; as blind as one might be, “In the force, one is never truly blind my brother. These friends of mine have saved my life a thousand times over. They have never steered me wrong before. Just as I am a Jedi and you a Knight of the Empress, there are many paths of life. One is not better than the other so long as they follow the truth and do not seek to edify selfish ambitions. We do not know how those paths will journey; but we all put our trust in something greater.” As they rounded a bend in the path, the gunship came into view as a band of Felucian warriors turned and scurried into the brush, vanishing as if they never were. Even in the force their presence was clouded by the living world, the force around them. Pausing, Leena turned to face Lok. She looked him in the eye. “I know your Empress. She and I trained together when I was but a Padawan. She is a good woman. I would trust that anyone who followed her had a purity of heart worthy of such an appointment. I also know the Admiral that sent you to me. He comes from yet another path; raised among the Mandalorians, dedicated to spy craft and war. He carries a goodness of will and steel character that carries his spirit towards the light of truth.” “You seem troubled though, Sir Knight. Where we are going, I sense a strange rippling darkness that consumes all it touches. What it is, I do not know. I do not even know how to get there. For that, I am trusting our pilot, one who is not in the orders of you or I; but who is here under my invitation. I am trusting the force to guide us. What happens will happen. We will find what it is that we are seeking, be it Sith atrocities, Dark Side malevolence, or peoples in need. If you do not desire to accompany us, I will respect that.” Leena knew that the droids and cyborg were a protective layer against the manipulations the dark side especially where force users might be concerned. She had poured over whatever bits of information she could find on Byss. It was not much and what she could find was unnerving at best. Grabbing Lok by the shoulder, Leena nodded knowingly to the Knight before dropping her arm to her side. Turning she made her way towards the others at the ship. She offered a smile and a nod to Zeris. “Captain. Lovely spear.” She paused giving the primitive weapon a once over. “My gear should be along momentarily. Then we are in your capable hands and . . . (¿) ship (?). We can depart when you give the word.” Her eyes ran over the worn vessel. She inhaled, calming her internal turmoil. Surely such a craft, kept by such a being, had it where it counted. Looking to Ruin, “If you could avoid turning people into flambé, that would be appreciated. That being said, if the Sith monsters get out of hand,” she gestured to the flamethrower encouragingly. A few minutes later a wheeled droid rolled down the bumpy path, chirping angrily at each dip and divot. “I am a medical droid. I am meant to be left indoors!” It carried a case of medical equipment and spare robes. Rolling up to Ruin, the fine-appendaged bot addressed the hulking war machine his tone straying from pure annoyance to one tinged with shades of respect. “These are for Jedi Council Master Kil for her journey. Where should I deposit them?”
  3. Yesterday
  4. Having successfully directed the pacification and liberation of Outer Heaven, Vice Admiral Nikolai Kolchak had directed his attentions to Mon Cal before being summoned to Nar Shaddaa. The glistening brand new hulls of a fleet of Mon Cal built warships pierced the twinkling darkness of space, reflecting the stars in their glistening chromium coated hulls. Aboard the bridge of the armor-laden Assault Lance, The Wailing Whaladon, Kolchak surveyed the cityscape below. It had not been that long ago that the strongest Imperial asset on the planet had been his very own shadowy cabal of Naval Intelligence operatives. Now, they were a stark minority, lurking amongst the undercurrent of the world, silently maintaining law and order, protecting the fleet and by it, freedom and dignity the galaxy over. Quickly, the cybernetically enhanced commander disembarked and made his way to the meeting below. He arrived, with his small contingent of white clad Imperial commandos just as the Empress was speaking, slipping into the back of the room as quietly as they may. Stoicly he listened as the heads of state and bureaucrats stated their thoughts and opinions. Democracy had it’s place, but to maintain such a thing required a razor-edged balance; one that, so far, a bloated galaxy like theirs was unable to maintain on a galactic scale without falling to dark desires and personal passions. What he had seen in the shadows of his career was that laziness, sloth and complacency allowed the current dark threat to fester and grow again into the monster that now threatened them all. When it came his turn to speak, the Vice Admiral of the Remnant’s naval forces and overseer of Naval Intelligence, a man whose career had been built upon his work as a pirate hunter and beyond the frontline combatant of the very evils these leaders now sought to oppose, stepped forward. Behind him stood his faceless contingent, a protective detail that belayed years of terror to evil doers and compliance to the will of the government’s leadership against chaos and disorder. “Highness,” he bowed slightly to the Empress. “The scourge on Outer Heaven haz fallen. Even now ze vorld is being rebuilt into ze visionz ov zis council. Freedom and prosperity shall reign. Ze forces under my command, naval and intelligence, stand ready to continue ze fight against oppression and villainy.” He paused as his mind and mechanized enhancements considered ending what he was saying there. For a moment, he stood silent before deciding to continue. “But zen, in a galaxy as large as ours, zhere vill always be zhese zhreats, internal and out.” He shot a knowing glance to the Queen-in-exile. “Ve must constantly vatch and strike vithout hesitation at any who vould zhreaten our people. Even now, ze ahipyardz ov Mon Cala are churning forth veapons by vhich to preserve ze peace ov ze stars. Zhey stand ready to zerve.” As soon as he was done, Nikolai, locked eyes with the Empress, nodded and stepped back. __________________________________ INTERDICTION CADRE: Interdiction Field -SFS Immobilizer 418-class Heavy Cruiser Constantine |9/9| (1xp) -MC30-class frigate Queen Memara |3/3| (1xp) -DP20 Corvette Surprise |2/1| (1xp) -DP20 Corvette Crescelle |2/1| (1xp) -DP20 Corvette Hawkbat |2/1| (1xp) -DP20 Corvette Audacity |2/1| (1xp) -MC90 Star Cruiser The Wailing Whaladon 25/25 Assault Lance [Kinetic Ram] Juggernaut -MC80a Star Cruiser Tessek’s Revenge 25/25 Search and Destroy Carrier Ghost Hunters
  5. Kirlocca found himself coming and going rather consistently through consciousness. Through the Force, he was able to sense out his padawans along with others. Namely Raven. He was fully unaware of how he got back into the presence of Raven and others within the Jedi Order again, let alone how they even got off the planet, yet here he was. He reached out to touch each mind of both Alleria and Johan, letting them know he was with them, as he was sure they would freak out suddenly being within a med ward. Sitting up, he almost immediately bumped his head on some light that hung over him. A droid nurse seemed to not notice, while the Twi'lek one did. "Yeah, I guess those lights do hang a bit low for Wookiees. You're injuries seemed fairly straight forward, unlike the Mandalorian woman with you. You may notice that your leg will go numb every so often. Whatever got you, I was unable to actually reverse most of the damage." Kirlocca threw is legs over the side of the operating table that he was on. His left leg did indeed have a slight numb feeling to it where the undead thing got him. With a slow nod, he stood up and put some weight on it. The pain level was very minimal at best. << I've had worse... Although I can't truly remember what it felt like. You did well with what transpired to me. >> The Jedi Master moved to get himself dressed in the clothing that he normally would wear around the Jedi Temple's of old. His own mind had a slight pain when he also thought of Tobias Vos and everything he went through. And I lost the lightsaber he let me borrow... He shook his head as he cast the thought aside. For now, he had far greater things that he needed to be prepared for and to deal with. The loss of material things wouldn't hold him down for the moment.
  6. While the others spoke and walked, Fera’s little legs struggled to keep up, at first skittering across the forested floor, and when that proved to be occasionally a little slow, resorted to jumping from overturned log to pieces of ruined debris. “While I am not one to believe in matters of faith…” Fera beeped and chatterred while crawling over a piece of metal. “I do know that Ruin has great faith in the Jedi and their insights. No matter their blade color. At this, Fera stopped and gave a glancing look towards Lok’s blade. Whether this was an indication that the buzz droid had noticed Lok was not like most Jedi or something else, she didn’t say. However, she continued her beepings and buzzings as she attempted to keep up with the other two. “If you insinuate there are ‘sith writings’ at play here, I believe that this will satisfy my ward. And if Byss was once held by Sith, then it is appropriate to believe that they are still at work there. Back when I was manufactured, there was only one Sith of note, and now there are considerably more. Sith do not die. They only go to sleep. Ruin understands this to a degree and will go to Byss with enthusiasm” ____ “Don't break anything. Yes I fly very fast” Ruin seemed to nod at this and gave a thumbs up towards the pilot. While Zeris talked with the natives, Ruin seemed to ignore them and continued his inspection of the ship, muttering the entire time. Words about battle, flying, and death flowed from the droid like sludge from a pipe: Intermittently and in bursts. Eventually, Ruin stepped out of the ship, and upon seeing the spear in the pilot’s hands, nodded. “Stabs and skewers. Acids and burns. Good good. But flames and fires better.” At this, Ruin pulled out his X-Pyre grenade and tossed it up and down, almost as if to taunt the natives slightly.
  7. Solus

    Naboo

    “Answer truthfully and openly, there will be no repercussions” Solus almost flinched at these words, recalling how similar ones were spoken earlier, followed by an embarrassing beating in front of all of his peers. Still, Solus contained himself and raised his newly forged hand as if to add to his words. “The meaning is to be unrestricted. In my fight with Innmortos, my power over the force only became useful when I gave into my passion, and let my envy and anger be unrestrained. And in that, my power was unrestrained. Much like you with how your unrestrained rage literally flows from you, when I have unrestricted myself and all of my sins, I am powerful.” “And if I may add master, and to you of House Solus…” Solus snapped his skeletal-looking hand as if to emphasize a point. “It's not just limited to my passion, but my imagination as well. In the battle with Innmortos, I only truly began to gain an upper hand when I began to let my imagination loose. The idea to blend in with the ice, to use the blade and myself as separate weapons, to make noises through the dark side… only by unleashing my passion and my mind was I able to succeed.” Solus pulled his hand back and gave a bow to the two, to show he was concluding his thought process. “I, master, must continue to practice my rage, my envy, and my mind so that it will be unrestrained by not only myself, but all others who will seek to use and restrain me. Through this, I will attain victory and free myself from the chains of this world of worlds”
  8. This was a region of Nar Shaddaa that few sapient beings with legitimate business dared to enter. There were rumors--as with Coruscant, before the first or second time the ecumenopolis had undergone a planet-wide demolition--that mutants and other foul fauna prowled the Undercity. The legends of blind troglodytes, enormous duracrete-consuming wurms, even rakghouls--they were all favorites of Nar Shaddaa’s veterans, told with a poodoo-eating grin to spook the Imperial and Rebel visitors. Some of the more outlandish stories worried that the very foundations that the Imperial towers were built upon were not entirely stable--that the entire cityspace might collapse at any moment. Misal had yet to corroborate any of those stories. However, as the two Force-Sensitives departed the turbolift and their passage through the vast tunnel was lit by spot-lumas attuned to proximity sensors, one of the stories was immediately confirmed: the ecosystem of this elevation was entire different from the “surface”. It was cold, damp, and the very air felt sickeningly oily. The older Miraluka shivered once as she peered into the distant darkness. The Rebel Alliance may have patrolled these tunnels at some point--even removed leaking pipes and killed some of the more aggressive fauna--but their attempts at securing them did nothing to obliterate the claustrophobia. “As it happens, Nar Shaddaa has quite a fascinating geology for a moon of this size. Millenia of sapients building on top of the foundations of previous generations, almost no standardized documentation. There is a vast foundation of partly-forgotten infrastructure below the surface… such as these old maglev tunnels. Long abandoned, of course,” she added with a smile as their steps towards the general direction of the Imperial Knights headquarters echoed… and echoed… and echoed. A faint scuttle of a many-legged shadow retreated from them. A series of spotlumas flickered to life in the darkness far before them, but failed to reveal anything other than their own imaginations. As The Force tended to will such things, the path of the two Force-Sensitives was leading them directly towards the retreating lights. “I suspect that the Rebel Alliance deliberately built their headquarters over them. No doubt my daughter will find them very useful in the future. Three hundred meters at two-eighty until we are beneath the Imperial Knights’ complex. ” “Yes, Rebellion definitely did not succeed in sterilizing these tunnels. Hopefully that creature is not intelligent. Or social.”
  9. “Ladies and gentlemen of the provisional government.” The young queen curtsied to the gathering of generals and fellow monarchs. “I come from a world that has little power. A world that believed in the silken words of the Galactic Alliance. We believed in the security of the senate. We believed in the righteousness of a democracy. Selecting our heads of state to be little more than pawns to the bureaucracy. Figureheads in white, whose skirts hid the failings of great men. We did not see what a mistake it was to trust the Galactic Alliance until it was far too late. Now I am the queen of a doomed planet, whose people lie under the heavy yoke of Sith thralldom. “While the Remnant screamed about Sith Incursions to the far Galactic East, the Galactic Alliance and its senate twiddled their thumbs. Arguing about taxation and trade disputes while men fought and died on their very doorstep. Now I will not disparage the brave men and women of the Military. I would never doubt their commitment, but they were shackled by foolish policy that withheld their hand from intervention. They were forced to watch while a great power rose to eclipse them that they could do nothing to stop. Because they were held back by the democratic senate. We may discuss rule of law and the punishment of specific crimes all we like. But if we do not fix the problem at its source we will just see the problem come around again. “I agree with the empress of the Imperial Remnant and I think all of you here when I say, never again should we allow ourselves and the Alliance to fall to this weakness. What else is a galactic government for if not to protect its citizens from threats external or internal. Naboo stands with the formation of a strong central government who is not bound by having every single thing its military does be voted upon by ten thousand competing interests. Interests I must point out that did not believe it within the power of the GA to stop slavery in the outer rim. Interests that put the crying of millions of innocents out of mind so that they could stay in their ivory towers. Her smile became a grim and hard jawed look of determination. Something that clashed with her soft and kind face. “For the safety of the people. We must not let a democracy result from this war. We cannot repeat the mistakes of our past. Because if we do, we have ignored the lesson bought with the blood of trillions.”
  10. “I want the message to be clear. No-” She paused for a moment before looking back at the group of leaders who packed the stateroom of the Red and Black. “-I want it to be damn clear.” She pointed to the list of planets that scrolled down the holoform that was projected on the wall. “We will end the vile practise of slavery with blaster and bayonet. Ryloth was only a test. We may not be embraced with open arms in every corner of the galaxy, but when we take power-” She motioned to the galactic map, who’s spiraling arms were divided into sectors of garish coloured light. “-It is not an if. It is a when. That will be the galactic law. You own another sentient being in chattel slavery and you will be executed. Your assets confiscated and given to your victims.” She raised her hands as if to surrender. “Now this policy will not make us friends with the hutts…” The group of uniformed men and women laughed. “But we do not want to be friends with them. We will purge their kind from every hole they may try to bury themselves into.” She sighed, then looked back to Prince Alcarne, who stood in the regal blues of Outremer. Who stood alongside the other minor rulers of the Alliance. Baris Kailfreng of Montressor, and the well fed Count Rentor of Serenno, standing behind him. The other more democratic members being mostly noticeably absent from this meeting. As were the brown robed Jedi knights… But that would be the way of the galaxy. The great Democracies had ruled the Galactic Alliance. The had had their time in the sun, and had left the galaxy a bitter ruin. The very seat of democracy unceremoniously left to burn while its citizenry died by the trillions. Never again would such weakness be left as the guardian of the People. No. The galaxy needed a strong central power. Advised by the planetary and system governments, but not run by them. They would make up the government, its governors, its stewards. But decisions would not be up to some senate. Never again. The People and their safety would come first. Not some bureaucrat with forty years of experience voting himself money. There would be a place for democracy. Any planet that wanted to maintain theirs would be allowed to keep it. And those with monarchies and despots would keep their own forms of government. But Galactic matters would be handled by the council of governors and the Crown. And it was in this room that the influential members, those that provided military forces to the Alliance. Were discussing the general Constitution of the coming government. Even if it was a theoretical document. For there was still a war to be won. Raven finished her speech with another diatribe regarding slavery, then bowed to the youngest member in the room.
  11. Last week
  12. “Get up.” Two pairs of eyes locked for a moment through ‘T’ shaped visors, before one quickly glanced away. A blush formed across her face, which was thankfully hidden from the rest of the training unit by the stark and impersonal helmet. One more push on already far too tired legs, a strain on muscles not used to the weight of Empire issued armour. Once more into the run, following the almost inhuman surge of durasteel clad bodies as they ran down the beachhead. Pushing through the pain, the exhaustion, and the dreaded feeling of knowing that this would all repeat tomorrow. It would repeat forever most likely. Was that all there was? Running from training to training, punctuated by long downtimes in barrack, until either she died or the Empire fell? She didn’t know, and most of her mind did not care. What else was there in life? A boring office job in some casino the Rebels would blow the nuclear reactor of? No, she would be like father. Someone who made the gears of the galaxy move. Shoulder arms. Run. Jump. Crawl. Shoulder arms. Fire. Climb. Æthe 43391 would be a soldier. _____________________________ Three long hours later, the leader of the Darkwatch watched the recruits as they slowly trekked up the beach, their helmets finally taken off, and enjoying the last few hours of sunlight. They would be woken up at 0200 hours local time for night training. But they didn’t know that, so he let them enjoy their short evening. “Langraf, Frostwin. Reports if you please.” The two commanding officers of the first and second special operations companies stepped forward with crisp salutes. “The digs continue at pace. Though we are not participating in their activities, the archeologists continue to enjoy the sight of our commando’s protecting them. I anticipate another few weeks of likewise activities, as they continue to hunt down their ‘world altering’ artifacts. Whatever those are.” Delta laughed sharply. Then turned to Frostwin who gave him a friendly shrug. “Training continues as you can see. They are coming along well though some of the scientists in this expedition have suggested some kind of enhancement ‘therapies.’” Delta’s grin turned into a frown. “Anyone asks to do that again and bring them to me. We will not have Sith magic preformed on our men. Understood?” They both saluted. They had seen enough of that in their service time in Black Sun.
  13. Lok lowered the nail of his thumb from his mouth as Leena's energy transferred into his own, a sense of tranquility coming over him briefly before he recoiled and pulled his shoulder away with a disdained look upon his face. He held nothing of note against the Jedi Healer, at least, other than her being a member of his former Order, the Jedi. But in some circles of the Order, he was among the opinion of being considered fallen, a Revanchist. And he held no knowledge of where her opinion in this matter laid. In this, he was reserved and cautious, even if they happened be allies at the moment. "I can translate Fera well enough. Her questions were similar to my own." Lok responded to Leena's own concerning the small Buzz Droid before turning his own concerns of this mission back to the Mon Cal Jedi. "In essence, we're going into this mission blindly, with no real reason to pursue it other than the visions plaguing you and upon the advice of friends outside both of our Orders? I must confess Master Jedi. The reasoning alludes me and I am uncomfortable in this task. Could these friends of yours be behind this with the information they have readily available to give?" In all honesty, what Leena revealed to Lok and Fera made the Knight question her sanity. Everything was too vague, half truths, and barely made sense. But given the effects upon her mind and body as the Force flowed through her, Lok questioned her narrative. Perhaps she had misspoken, or intentionally left something out. At this moment, he couldn't tell. For sleep deprivation could easily mess with the mind as much as the sanity of someone, triggering such ailments. But so could the Dark Side. And given her reluctance to keep the Jedi Order out of this situation, he could easily see both sides. Still... An Order was an Order and he was a Solider through and through. Briefly, his gaze turned to Fera as the trio walked along the path set out before them. "I suppose that Byss is worth checking out, simply to put both our minds at ease or to get to the truth of this matter." Lok spoke, having turned his gaze back to the Jedi and his stern eyes focused upon her own. "In this, I am greatful for the small group we have amassed. But, and I say this with all due respect Jedi, I am a Knight of her Imperial Majesty's and my days as a former Jedi are over. I will keep this mission and those under my care professional at all costs. I have a duty to them as much as I do my Empress and at the first sign of things going south, I will pull the plug on it. I hope you can respect this." Lok couldn't help but feel he was being overly harsh by this moment as the ship began to distantly come into view. But whether this turned out to be dire or not, he was openly blunt about his mission directive. He wore the Crimson Armor of an Imperial Knight and as long as he adorn his armor, he had to keep appearences tight. Plus, if this truly was the work of the Dark Side or a Practitioner, he had to keep his guard up. Especially with Ruin's affinity to slash and bash.
  14. I keyed in the access code, and the gangway of The Crate lowered as the large droid talked. I started to wonder about him. Most droids either talk less than even I do or they love the sounds of their own vocabulators so much they wear them out in a week. This droid was different. It almost sounded like he was experimenting, like a kid who'd never held a sword suddenly taking one for a few swings. "You're fun," I said around what was left of my last cigarra. I really needed to slow down on these. "Don't break anything." I grinned then, a genuine grin, and that surprised me. It wasn't just the excitement of the mission. Something about this droid was...I wasn't sure...charming? "Yes. I fly fast." In truth, a long time ago I'd disabled a few of the inertial dampeners on The Crate and never repaired them. Just enough to cut the compensation a few percentile of course, not enough to be dangerous. But enough to feel some of those Gs. My smile got a little wider. I blinked at the unexpected gift. To be given a weapon in thanks by strangers...that said more of the quality of these people than it did of me or what I'd done. I accepted the spear with all the solemn gravitas I would have given an Echani master bestowing a title. Taking the spear in both hands, I bowed to the native. "I will be worthy of it."
  15. Akheron listened to Tros, what he said was true. The heat of battle was a unpredictable beast of many moving parts, not everything could be accounted for. As the Mandalorian stood up, Akheron placed his own masked helmet back upon his head, concealing all but his eyes. He spoke, motioning to the bladed weapon being held before him. "Very well, consider this just the start, I will use what time is available until we leave here, where possible to teach what I know. You can accompany myself and the Shard to find a wound on this planet, for he must construct a lightsaber and crystal. As part of his training. If you so desire, you may bare witness to the true power of the Darkness of the Force....few ever get the chance. It shouldn't be far from here, such a area would also provide the space we need to move about freely and I to impart what you desire to learn." Moments after and Solus had returned, Akheron turned to face his apprentice. Looking upon his improvements, he found them sufficient, it was then he spoke. It was time to see what he had to say, and if he found the meaning of the Sith Code. "Ah my apprentice, you return. I see you took up my suggestion, very good. Now tell me what have you learnt of the Sith Code. What meaning did you define from it. Answer truthfully and openly, there will be no repercussions. The Sith Code contains a different meaning for all Sith."
  16. With the mission accomplished and everything back on Ryloth was the way it had been after the Grand Republic arrived some odd years ago... Beyond some odd years, Tilt could finally see people celebrating and smiles returning. While he seemed glad of the situation the Captain was not smiling at all. Instead his helmeted head was scanning the area before he turned to leave. Riggs followed Tilt as did Thumper, the two clearly got the point of his silence. While at the star port Tilt had been looking over the Sith Freighter that Pryf had stole... Well, if he were still around. Now it were only the three clones and a corpse carefully wrapped ceremoniously in a long crate. Thumper and Riggs had gathered supplies and a location to head back to- the Rebel/Imperial Headquarters, Nar Shaddaa. That name left a sour taste in Tilts' mouth, a homeworld of crime and it was clear that the Alliance was fishing at the bottom of a barrel. But it sounded like it would have to do. Tilt made sure to have Pryfs lightsaber and whatever other personal arms in the coffin with his body, and for the longest he stared at the cloth wrapped body, a plethora of thoughts running through his head. If the Clones had been commended for their efforts Tilt didn't hear it. And still no one approached them at all, not even at their own ship. And all Tilt could think about was the severe blunder at the guarded gate he pulled, the visions of being back in the Grand Army of the Republic, people turning into droids all of a sudden and the pains he would get after they were done. That was something to handle up on when they get to... By god, Nar Shaddaa really? After a few more minutes the Sith Freighter lifted from the star port and leaving Ryloth only after they had the Sith emblems removed from the exterior of the vessel, as well as retrofitting the freighter to be read as neutral. Once the Clones had gotten to a good enough distance they shot off at hyperspeed toward their next destination.
  17. Identity Real Name: Asomna Lyn A.K.A: Lyn Homeworld: Shili Species: Togruta Physical Description Age: 20 Height: 5’7 Weight: 160 lbs Hair: none Eyes: green Sex: female Equipment Clothing or Armor: dura-armor Weapon: Dl-18 blaster pistol, vibro-blade Common Inventory: Data-pad. Com device. Snacks Faction Information Force User, Force Sensitive or Non-Force User: force sensitive Archetype: bounty hunter Alignment: neutral Current Faction Affiliation: bounty hunters guild (bhg) Current Faction Rank: newbie (apprentice ranked) History Force Side: grey Trained by: no-one (she doesn’t know she’s force sensitive) Trained who: no-one (yet) Known Skills: stava (martial arts) Background: Lyn was born on Shili but due to her parents poverty sold her off for money. This led her to travel the galaxy as a slave. During one of her excursions she broke out of her bonds and joined a small gang for about three years during which time she saved up her money. This is where she learned Stava, how to fight with a vibro-blade and how to shoot. By the time she was fourteen she was decent in combat and decided to leave her gang to get a real job as a miner. When she was sixteen a new guy had joined the miner work force and had always picked on her and the smaller people of the group. This went on for a few months before he came in one day and attacked One of lyn’s friends in a drunken rage. Lyn stepped in and tried to stop the attack without violence. But ultimately violence was needed. So she fought him while being angry. Due to her emotional state at the time she unknowingly activated the force causing increased strength. That was the first day she killed a man herself. she was kicked out of the group and with the money she had earned and saved up she bough herself a VCX-100 light freighter which she named the Falcons claw. Using her new ship she left the planet and traveled the galaxy for a few years until eventually returning to her homeworld. There she discovered the bounty hunters guild and decided to join it Ship Registration Name: The Falcons claw Class: fighter Model: B-class X-wing Manufacturer: incom corporation Length: 43 feet long and 38 feet long Armaments: Taim & Bak KX9 laser cannons (4), Krupx MG7 proton torpedo launchers (2) Armor: Chempat "Defender" deflector shield, Titanium armor alloy, Anti-Personnel Defenses: remote lock/ keypad Modifications: paint job Appearance: normal x-wing with a green and red paint job.
  18. Atrid Torsen

    Naboo

    Fiochmar stays in medbay for as long as it takes to heal. Once fully healed he'll get dressed and follow Leona to a makeshift meditation chamber near his own quarters. Fiochmar, gets himself seated and closes his eyes. Focusing not on peaceful or tranquil thoughts. No he thinks of the embarrassment and shame he felt being so easily defeated. He is the best warrior and hunter, in his clan in their clan and village. Now here he is each attack that always worked for him failed. Its as if he were a young trainee in the art of combat. What was going on here. He wasn't that weak he wasn't that easily tossed around but what had gone wrong. He focused on the scenes in his head, and starts focusing, each passing second his anger, his embarassment, his self loathing and he starts to feel the power course through and strengthen his muscles. Looking further back he focuses on the destruction of his world and the murder of his whole family. He growls standing up and pacing about. "THEYLL ALL SEE WHAT I'M MADE OF. LEONA GET IN HERE!" Leona enters and looks to Fiochmar standing at attention as she awaits orders.
  19. Leena canted her head at the odd pair of droids. While she held no reservations towards them for being automated, she did not know nearly as much about how they functioned compared to standard organics. So the whirs and beeps of Fera’s communications would seem cute had not Leena realized the droid was trying to communicate . . . something. The larger automaton was not a slouch either. Clearly it carried some sort of combat programming beyond ‘bodyguard’. Yet it clearly held some sort of resentment, be it developed or programmed, towards the Sith specifically. Time would tell if that would be help or hinderance where they were going. Before she could respond Zeris and the bots had taken off towards the ship. For a brief moment, Leena wondered if the mechanized portions of them had some invisible draw towards other things of a mechanical nature? It was a thought she quickly bypassed, something for another time. There were more pressing matters at hand. Leena turned her attention to the Imperial Knight. It was clear, beneath the surface, the man was perturbed to even be here. His guarded stance and mind betrayed a troublesome enigma beneath their protective barriers. What it was, remained to be seen. Offering a warm, albeit tired, smile, Leena turned so she stood side by side with the Knight. She slid an arm up to rest her hand on his shoulder in comfort, not control. A Knight did well to guard against the darkness, for their order strayed closer to it than the Jedi would dare. A warmth relayed from her fingertips, the cleansing soul purifying dignity that came with being renewed in body and mind. Before she could speak, the buzz droid had returned, this time without her larger companion. Leena shook her head. “I do not understand you little friend. And in a place like this, I am not sure there are many that would” Looking from the brains of the droid duo to Lok and back, she nodded at Lok’s words. “I wish I had more answers myself. Sadly, any answer I have found only opens more questions. What I know is that our pilot was hired by my friends. So she is not Imperial is my guess. She knows where we are going, and presumably how to get us there in one piece. Before she arrived, I did not even know that. Byss is a world shrouded in mystery. The Sith held it once. Probably why my friends did not want to go there. Still, they were able to find where these visions seem to connect too.” She shrugged. “Maybe that is why I am having visions of the place. The Sith were there, some old sorceries or something, maybe something worse? Dark visions. Shadows just out of sight that crawl into my dreams. Ancient Sith writing. Spells? Scriptures? Instructions? I don’t know. And that is what we are going to find, answers; what this all means. I am not a Jedi of futures, of dreams and visions. I am a healer, called to mend the broken and destroyed. Maybe,” her voice took on an air of hope, “we can mend whatever rift this is too.” And they began to turn, walking slowly in the direction of the ship. “So I imagine that is where you come in. I reached out to an old Imperial friend and asked for some help. No sense pulling Jedi away in a time like this and where we might be going, uniformed soldiers or anyone associated openly with either of our orders might draw unwanted attention. Like your bigger friend noted, I do not have a lightsaber. Mine was lost in the last great battle. I am not sure if I want to craft another one. In a galaxy plagued by violence,” she trailed off shaking her head. A moment later, she turned to look at Fera. she winked. “If violence is necessary, I hope you lot are up to the challenge. By the looks of it your friend would welcome a Sith entanglement. I hope it does not come to that. But given what we know, who knows. I am happy to have all of you along.” _______________________________ Back at the ship, a small gaggle of native Felucians stood admiring the vessel. They had seen craft often enough, but this lot lived deep enough in the jungles that the opportunity to really examine one up close came rarely. Excitedly they ran their hands over the craft, examining the plating, guns, all of it with wonder. It was not their way, the ways of their people; but death had rained down in such craft. To study the enemy, to know their ways, exploit their weaknesses, it was the way of the warrior. But like they that brought death, so did others come with other intentions; some to help, some with other ideations. Like she that had come in this craft, part being and part machine, like the Sith monstrosities that had devastated their homes. Thankfully this one was different. She came and helped. Wether to make amends for her people’s actions or something else, who knew. When Ruin and Zeris approached, the natives clambered off the craft. One, their leader, a sinewy and taut war-painted veteran hefted an intricately crafted spear of salvaged durasteel and held it up in two hands, parallel to the ground. The head was fused to the shaft and offered a wicked jagged point complete with spines that seemed to be intent on inflicting as much fleshy damage as possible. “For you.” He proffered the weapon. “To kill those that did this. Avenge us.” Another warrior hefted two sealed containers. One was a sealed container of acidic metal-dissolving goo derived by unspoken ritual by their people. The second, a fast-hardening resin to recoat the spear to make sure the acid did not eat it away. The warrior that pressed the ornate containers into Zeris’ hands hissed with a chuckle as he eyed Ruin. “Works on those brutes too.”
  20. Lok watched the young lady before them, her posture and half met gaze speaking volumes about her where words mattered little. Her words were to the point and short, but her movements and actions lasting longer. She held experience, of this, Lok held no doubt. As she spoke and started her departure, Lok offered her the lead with an outstretched arm and quickly fell in line behind her. It seemed that fate had brought them to her and her part had yet played out. "Tensions and exhaustions..." Lok responded to Ruin as he broke his silence amidst their casual stride, his gaze steadily forward as they traversed the distance to the Jedi. "Felucia... It is a world I haven't sat foot on in many years, not since I left the Order behind." Lok briefly glances to Ruin and Fera. "Not exactly on good terms." Turning his gaze back forward, Lok let it drift across the tents and fields. The pain here echoed the Jedi's usual inaction and it still pained him to see it despite their newly appointed and active roles in the war that claimed many worlds like Felucia. He couldn't help but ponder the course of actions and reactions that could have saved those worlds if the Jedi had acted sooner and not dealt with the schism that led to his leaving. Perhaps the Sith would not have grown so powerful and held such a grasp of command upon the Galaxy. Perhaps Onderon.. Lok shook the thought from his mind as the group entered a medical hut, the clanking of the wooden door and the squeaking of it's hinges shouldering the announcement of their arrival. Shifting his gaze to the Mon Calamari, a sight rarely visited outside that of the Rebellion or Mon Cal due to their reservations about space faring, Lok simply nodded. He could see the tiredness and exhaustion that wore its self upon both the skin of her face and in her eyes, and her presence within the Force regarded it highly even as the sun shown it physically once outside. "A blade is only as good as the intentions of his wielder." Lok responded in course as she spoke to each and then in general. "Forgive my reservation, but we haven't been informed of much... only that we are to escort you. Can you elaborate slightly more? I don't want to walk into this blindly, especially if the Darkside is involved." After the events of Mon Cal, Lok had remained guarded against even his own emotions, the Darkness he brushed upon while there still lingering upon his mind. And with Outer Heaven, he felt the call to take life without remorse, especially where the Shistavanien had been concerned. It seemed the intentions and emotional composure of those around him was affecting his own, and Lok had pulled up a mental barrier to block such influences. With the missions as of late delving in the Dark Side, Lok had very little time to center himself against it's currents. Lok watched as Captain Mons and Ruin departed, his question hanging upon the wind as he awaited her answer. And it seemed that Fera held her own reservations, her questions similar to his own as the Droid returned and poised them, and sparking his own reservations about Ruin. He was beginning to actually like a droid, and Ruin's personality was a good fit with his own. But just as Ruin and Fera's mission was to escort and watch over Healer Kil, Lok's was to escort and watch over Ruin and Fera. If Ruin was to go rogue, Lok was ordered to stop him. And in his silence, Lok's facial expression revealed this. Biting the nail of his thumb, Lok looked to Fera.
  21. "Leena's this way. Also, I’m your pilot” Ruin followed the female closely behind, glancing at Lok and giving him a scanning over, as if analyzing the man’s walk and facial expressions. “Tensions and Teeth? Or Exhaustions and Exceptions?” Fera didn’t seem to desire to translate the question that Ruin had placed forth, so it was up to the Jedi to draw his own conclusion at what Ruin meant. Finally, the group met the Jedi Healer. Ruin tilted his head when she introduced herself, as if a thousand questions were forming in the silicon brain of the terror droid. Fera even seemed intrigued as it moved from one of Ruin’s large shoulders to the other as if to get a better scan over the being in front of them. “You are quit the cute little buzz droid. Tell me friend, what is your primary designation?” Fera paused for a moment, then started into what seemed to be a memorized and recited introduction. “This semi-independent droid is designation B5-87, codename: RUIN. My designation is F5-18-1. Codename: FERA. You must be Healer Kill?” “Killer Healer.” Ruin stated plainly, head still slightly tilted. “But no weapon? Odd Healer. Jedi Healer? Odd for a Jedi. Still, looks like a Jedi. Two Jedi is good. Better than one. I like. Good for dealing with Sith.” After Leena talked, and the female named Mons mentioned her ship, Ruin’s attention turned towards Mons with pure intention. When she left, Ruin followed, not stating a word for the entire trip. Fera seemed to show a genuine confused expression, as much as a buzz droid could show. Between the glancings back to where the Leena and Lok were left behind and forward towards their captain, Fera’s buzzings turned to a low growl, and jumped off to crawl back to the group to ask his own questions. “Healer Kil, I must ask…” The Buzz droid started, its beepings and chirpings hopefully understood by someone in the area. “Where is it that we are traveling to? Why is this task so unofficial? Are we dealing with something more illicit like our previous mission? Because I believe there is a 45% chance Ruin will go renegade if this mission has nothing to do with the Sith.” Meanwhile, Ruin continued to follow Mons silently, not stealthing his footsteps at all but not stating a single word neither. His silence stopped however the ship became visible. Just as the Mons had said, the ship was a box-like looking vehicle with wings. A true Nu-class shuttle. “Fly and Fry” Ruin said as he stepped closer to the vehicle and placed a metal hand on a wing, creating a slight scratching noise as the palm slid over the metal slowly. “Fly and Fry. Crash and bash. Guns and gas and guts. Smoke and smash. Bad time, good ships.” Ruin looked at Captain Mons, and tilted his head. “Not white? Eh, still good. Fly good. Fly fast. You fly fast? I fly fast. Crash fast too. Flash and crash, heheh. You ever flash and crash?”
  22. Earlier
  23. At the end of this very long day, Johanna Bryce removed her helmet and pinned it to her hip. Her previous attempt at binding up her hair had long come undone. As she shook her hair free of the cheekplate, it came free in sweaty tangles that clung to her face. The Talon Captain’s appearance was rather worse for wear, with one eye bloodshot and bruised, the cheek below it cut from struggling in close-quarters combat. And yet, she and her men were smiling. And why wouldn’t they have reason to be pleased with themselves? Despite a long, difficult day of fighting, their entire fireteam had survived--indeed, the only wounds that they had suffered would knit together quickly enough after bacta and bedrest: a concussion, a broken leg, a ricochet from a blaster bolt, and uncounted bruises and scrapes and minor cuts that would be only an annoyance for a medtech. And from Bryce’s perspective, her twisted, bloodied smile came from a combination of pride and relief. After months of training and iterations on their equipment, the Talon concept had finally proven itself. Their breach into Outer Heaven had proceeded almost flawlessly--it was holding the reactor core that proved to be a challenge. Even with overwhelming numbers bearing down on them, however, they had held long enough for the regulars to relieve their position. “Thank you, sir,” salutes followed, with Vor gladly swinging his carbine to a rest at his shoulder. “I’ll be checking in with my squadmate on Constantine.” With the Rebel fleet ferrying regiment after regiment of ground troops to Outer Heaven, it was an easy matter to find a transport willing to take on an additional three soldiers back to the fleet. Insisting on watching from the cockpit--much to the pilot’s annoyance, the Talon watched the traffic descending from the fleet. Even with the station pacified and nearly all of its resisting elements neutralized, the shuttle traffic wasn’t slackening. If anything, it was only intensifying in frequency--and it wasn’t merely troop shuttles that were dropping off relief forces, but freighters and heavy transports.
  24. My second meeting with the Jedi I'd be taking this journey with confirmed my initial impression, perhaps more so than the first time. This woman was Good, the capital kind. It was the kind of good you carve into the face of some hero's statue, the kind you put in a bedtime story because you don't believe it could really exist, the kind that doesn't feel like it should exist outside of a philosophy holobook. Which made it all the more wondrous when you realized it was the genuine article. I took another look around at the group around me. The bizarre (and probably violent) droid duo, the fierce Imperial Knight, the noble and kind Jedi...if this group wasn't the kind to get into some strange shenanigans, then my instincts were dead and buried. I could feel my lip twitch into a shadow of a smile. I liked shenanigans. I nodded at her cue, and took a long draw on my cigarra before answering. "Ship's 150 yards that way," I said, jerking my metal thumb over my shoulder and out the door. "Old Nu-class attack shuttle, but she's got new parts, so don't worry how she looks." I took another draw on the cigarra, finishing it off. Not wanting to leave burn marks in the hut (I'm not a total boor), I put it out between my prosthetic fingers, crumbling it into black soot that I flicked into one of my coat pockets. I turned back to the Jedi. "I'll go prep the nav. Takeoff on your say boss." I walked out of the hut and started hiking back towards the ship. If I had to be honest, I'll admit I was a bit excited. This was exactly the strange kind of nonsense I'd needed.
  25. The Mon Cal worked tirelessly. The force rippled in the air with the power that radiated about the room. Wounds knitted themselves shut beneath her hands, purged of infection and disease. Throughout the ward and beyond, the tingle of life bloomed and grew. It best back the darkness of unwarranted suffering and death. Through it all, Leena’s light melodic hum carried as she and healers and medics worked with force-imbued vigor. As the wooden door creaked on it’s hinges at the arrival of the eclectic group, Leena’s eyes were drawn to their arrival. Nodding to Zeris and company, Leena finished tying off the bandage she was working on before turning to walk towards the others. Grabbing a clean rag, she wiped her hands clean, her white robes flecked with blood still. A worn smile crossed Leena’s face. The constant work and plaguing dreams had taken their toll on her. At last, they would be off looking for answers. Visages of darkness played at the back of her mind. Thoughts of the mysteriously shrouded dark world, monsters, Sith emblems, what did it all mean? Why was she being called to them? What was this world and what was the force summoning her there for? ”Captain Mons,” Leena bowed slightly in greeting to the cybernetic warrior, “You have already been of great service here, but I believe the time of our departure is upon us. Thank you.” Turning to Lok Skyshatter and Ruin & Fera, Leena looked them over with a glance. One was an Imperial Knight; not what she had expected when she had reached out to her intelligence associate, but not a total surprise either. “Welcome Knight. I am glad to have your blade by my side.” Turning her gaze to the duo of droids, she scratched her head. They were more what she had expected; but still, she was intrigued by them. “You are quit the cute little buzzdroid,” she complemented with a smile, knowing full well each droid probably possessed the ability to destroy the entire village. “Tell me friend, what is your primary designation?” Gesturing for the group to step out of the ward into the village clearing, she pulled the door behind her. “I am glad you are all here. Too much time has elapsed already. There is much to discuss. I do not know what you have been told already. Even I do not have all the answers, all I know is that we are traveling to a world of darkness, unnatural evil wrought by the Sith in some way. If you have any pressing questions, ask them now; otherwise, let us gather what supplies we need and meet with Captain Mons and her ship.” Leena turned to Zeris with a gesture, allowing her to give details of her ship and where to go.
  26. With some great deal of apprehension Sandy pressed the holopanel and set the turbolift on its rocketlike journey towards the depths of the Red and Black. The apprehension was soon proven true as the older woman whipped a dataspike into the panel. She took a step back and felt a frown begin to creep across her face. Was this really the way to deal with this? Surely a more diplomatic approach, if not just a straight and simple appeal to the Empress of the Imperial Remnant was the correct course here, not a subtle infiltration mission into the heart of their allies base. A base whose doors had been willingly opened for them. She did not like the feeling that shivered down her spine, but she kept quiet and watched as Aidan’s grandmother brought the turbolift into the bowels of old Nar Shaddaa. A place that held the secrets of a thousand years of slavery. A place where she had seen the bodies of slavers dumped like refuse into the deep dark of the yawning mouth of Nar Shaddaa. She shivered. The Imperials had called it a justifiable solution to what to do with those that had profited from the enslavement of sentient life. She had not stopped the slaughter, no one had. The hutts and their ilk deserved the fate that the firm hand of the remnant had given them. Had it been justified? Looking back it felt like it had been. The sight of child slaves strapped with detonite collars, still woke her up at nights, and seeing those that put them there gunned down, did not trouble her sleep at all. She swallowed her memories and feelings and stepped out into the darkness at the heels of a woman she did not truly know. Such was the way of the Jedi. "I have your back." And her hand rested on the handle of her lightsaber.
  27. The two saber cats bared their stark white fangs, stepping in front of their mistress in a defensive crouch, the fur behind their ears furrowing and standing tall in some primordial gesture of menace. Nothing much to scar an Acklay and a full Jedi knight, but they were ready for the fight if it offered itself. Telperien waved her hand at the two felines and they calmed instantly, sitting and wrapping their spiked tails around their front paws, their stark yellow-grey eyes watching their mistress with fascination. “They belonged to this former body, they serve their purpose.” She ran her long finders through the fur at the base of Kai’s skull, causing him to pur, and the long pointed ears to twitch in pleasure. Telperien smiled softly and looked back up to Kadi. It was good to see her again, she was a beautiful specimen of a modern Iridonian Zabrak, horns that curved wonderfully up from the light tattooing around her forehead. It was an intriguing feeling to look at someone like her, a sworn enemy, and feel only the loneliness in her own heart. Not hate. Even the strange desire she had felt in their last combat did not stir itself in the pit of her belly. Only a stark and bleak loneliness. Telperien held out a hand towards the two saber cats, holding a scrap of meat that she had packed from their last stop. “It is good to see you... I trust you are well?”
  28. MSA

    Nar Shaddaa

    Scorpio stood before Frond as he held the Holocron within his hand, knowledge of whom it belonged to as his presence rolled from within. With saddened eyes, he shited his arm forward and offered the device back. He was not worthy, left wanting, when it came to knowledge once held by Darkfire. For he was there when Aryian was called back to the Force and although Scorpio died, he could not follow. With his free hand, it shifted down to the hilt of his blade, and with a twist, unlocked it from it's sheath. As the Force flowed through it, it's cyan blade sprung to life and hummed chaotically. It was active, it's humming reminiscent of ghostly screams. It called to the sabers that Frond held opposite of him, it's cravings for battle almost too much to restrain. This was evident in Scorpio's browed face as he scorned to outweigh it's desires. This is what Frond desired of him, and it was time to show the Mind Walker what it was he truly asked of him. With Aryian's Holocron in one hand, and his blade in the other, he was off balance both visually and metaphorically as the scales of power tilted. "A blade is just a weapon, nothing more, nothing less." Scorpio spoke as he divined Frond's intentions through the Force. "But a blade forged of the Force becomes sentient, aware of its self." As Scorpio speaks to Frond, the weight of the blade becomes evident in his stature. A lightsaber, though significantly weightless, draws upon the will of it's user. This brings the weight of one's soul into the blade and binds the two as one. The weaker the mind, the heavier the blade becomes. Scorpio gives this demonstration by allowing the blade to prey upon his will, it's color beginning to become redder as he allows its will to overcome his own gradually, and in doing so, the scream of it's humm grows louder. "Jedi nor Sith ponder upon this." Scorpio continues, allowing his arms to remain straight to visually show his meaning as the balance of the blade lowers his arm over that of the Holocron. "Conviction allows for blindness where the blade is concerned, no more than a tool to be used until it's weight becomes unbearable and too heavy, its call to battle divining one's fate." But as Scorpio shifts his presence in the Force and begins pouring his will into the Force and into the blade, the arm with the blade grows lighter and begins to rise into balance. As it does, the cyan begins to return and it's humm grows quieter as it's hunger for death is silenced. "Will controls the blade and it's intent." Scorpio speaks, this time his gaze stern and prepared. With a snap and a hiss, Scorpio lowers the blade with the Force and resheaths it into it's lock as he gives back Darkfire's Holocron completely. "Either forged by Jedi, or by Sith, the hunger is always insatiable. It calls for reaping and it longs for souls. This is the curse of one's blade, just as any other weapon. And once drawn, it must have it's fill or it will consume it's wielder." "To weild those blades will take more than simple will." Scorpio spoke. He had faced another with blades similar before during his time as Anakin, so he held the knowledge of what Frond requested. "It will take dominance, and unwavering conviction. Falter in any way, and it will consume your presence in the Force and leave you lacking." And that was simply to cleanse them of it's previous user's own dominance over time.
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