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  1. Today
  2. Whirling about, the Duros and his staff were one, just as they were one with the force; but just as Svata and Tobias entered the training yard, he began to slow. Whirling the stick above his head, he flipped over it once more launching himself into the air. With a soft landing that barely disturbed the dust he landed a few feet from the new arrivals. “Jedi Vos, Apprentice Svata. Greetings. I trust everything went well for each of you on your perspective journeys?” “Brother Svata, it appears that we will be lending our skills to the Jedi right away. I believe that your experiences and particular charm will be of great use to us. Do you happen to have a disguise for a space pirate in those pockets of yours?” Looking to Vos, the Duros continued. “Have you come to assist us Master Jedi? Or perhaps we can assist you in your quest?” Keeping his focus on the two, The Sarlacc began to carefully reapply his armor, piece by piece.
  3. ‘We are all. We are none. We are servants. We. Are. Free.’ The voice echoed in Xar’s circuits to no one but the droid. It’s voice pulses of energy that faded into the noise of the electronic whirlings. Suddenly the attached head began to fizzle and spark, sending flashes of blue across the darkness. A loud pop followed with an blinding flash of white as the head disconnected from Xar’s and fell with a splash in the waters at the droid’s feet. Meanwhile, the advancing legion of shamblers and durasteel closed on the party. They seemed undissuaded by the return fire. Wherever one fell another seemed to materialize to take it’s place. Some of the droids sent arcing traced of blue electricity skittering across the water as they fell. The beast’s tentacles swished through the waters, grabbing and pulling any leg or limb it could find in the waters, dragging the unlucky owners towards the toothy maw and it’s rancid breath. Those who radiates the force the strongest were the choicest morsels and the tentacles beast sought them out the hardest. “Come to me my children” it whispered across the battlefield. And then, it happened, the shimmering orb with it’s ominous flashing red flashing countdown light was hurled and accelerated towards the maw. In the chaos, it was not something to be simply batted away, even as it thudded into the visible maw of the creature, wedging itself amongst it’s teeth right above the waterline. The red light blinked, increasing in frequency. Seconds passed as the onslaught throughout the chamber continued. Then, it happened. The baridum core began to enter a state of fusion. The rapidly expanding field consuming all in it’s path as it tore through water, flesh, droid, and shambling undead. 25 meters in every direction the field cut, shifting the waters as they rushed to press in on the chasm that the explosion opened downwards, mingling with the chunks of severed tentacles. The ever present darkness that assaulted everyone within faltered as pain and agony pulsed through the air. The pressing assault came to a near standstill as the shambling undead and most of the robotic enforcers seemed to blink in and out of existence, once, twice, thrice, before vanishing entirely. A half dozen armed droids pressed onwards, wielding their aged pikes expertly as they closed on the Sith and their troopers. Behind the group, the three droids that had been holding back the deluge stopped. The purple glow on their hands fading as they turned, the thunderous crash of water filling the cavern as they turned, sure footed and leapt. Two towards Xar, reaching and grasping for wires and loose plates, tearing and pulling. Another at Nok Morliss, intent on rendering flesh from bone with it’s vice-like fingers. The maw heaved painfully, expelling more dusty spores into the atmosphere as it fell still, the voice calling weakly across the force, “Be free my children. Carry forth my will to the stars once again. They shall not resist you.” With that, a sucking sound as fleshy appendages detached from the cortosis walls about the maw, the creature began to fall away, the sea pouring in across the wounded creature, bathing the room in darkness. ____________________ Meanwhile, back topside, Leena’s powerful strokes brought her closer and closer to the city. The attack was still going as strong as ever. The city fell steadily, small pockets of resistance only a temporary speedbump to the inevitable end. Those who were lucky enough to make it to any matter of air or water vessel were trying to escape the city. It was one of the later, an angular luxury yacht painted a shimmering white and yellow bore down on Leena. Slowing as it came close. Several ragged and warn citizens reaching down to help pull the young Mon Cal aboard. Fear and worry was etched across every line of their fishy faces. “Get her inside with the others. Are you ok miss?” Leena carefully picked herself up slowly nodding her tired head. “Yes. I, uh, thank you,” she smiled weakly. Fishing her lightsaber out of her robes and hanging it on her waist. The crewmen recoiled in shock whispering amongst themselves before one ran off to alert whoever was in charge of the boat. “You’re a Jedi? Can you help us?” One of the remaining men asked tentatively. Leena nodded and was whisked to what was once an elegant lounge area, now filled with the injured and dying. Without waiting a moment, Leena pushed her weariness from her mind and closing her eyes, began to reach out, cataloging injuries and sending a reassuring wave of positive purifying energy wafting across the room. Kneeling next to a Quarren woman with bad burns across her face and arms, Leena instinctively reached for her med kit, which was gone. “Does anyone have a first aid kit?” she queried loudly. Before anyone could answer, an anxious voice buzzed across the ship wide comms; “Brace for impact! Incoming!” Within moments the entire ship shuddered and groaned, windows shattering as laser fire pummeled the ship from above. The whine of fighter craft streaking overhead was enough to tell anyone who couldn’t see what was happening what was going on. They were not going to let them escape. Standing up, Leena ran out onto the deck looking up. In the distance, she saw the craft arcing about in a wide circle to begin another straffing run. Screams echoed across the ship as the refugees came to a realization that they were doomed to die. Leena felt her fists balled at her sides. Carefully she exhaled, allowing the force to flow through her and purge the tension that had overtaken her. Pushing the emotions away, Leena reached inward to grasp at the core of light she carried within. Inhaling and exhaling, she fanned the glowing embers of light. It grew. Leena held it, fanning it as her palms extended wide and she raised her arms, stretching out at shoulder high. She felt for any spark of light, of hope, love, and goodness. She fanned them and called them towards her. The ships whined as they ducked low, their cannons opening fire as they sent geysers of superheated water Rocketing into the air with the blasts of their heavy lasers. Just as the blasterfire began to rock the ship, Leena inhaled deeply, opened her eyes and stared at the ships intently. Exhaling, she raised her hands, pointing her bladed fingers at the formation of fighters. Like a whirlpool of white, lightnside energies burst forth from the small Mon Cal Jedi swirling forth to jostle and toss the screaming fighters in winds and waves of energy, frying sensors and disrupting gyroscoptic sensors, shutting down power sources and turning the vessels into state-of-the-art giant hunks of metal. The ships tumbled overhead, overcome by the onslaught of light side energies, crashing into the crystalline waters like eggs on duracrete. Leena did not see this though as she collapsed to the deck, her eyes rolling back in her head. Her chest rose and fell heavily, her body exhausted by the expulsion of energies. The yacht raced onwards. Shock and awe at the Jedi display giving way to a scurrying rush as the ship’s crew sought to seize the opening for escape.
  4. "...Chaos is a Ladder" Shiro gazed in her eyes, the swirling of crimson and gold meeting her own in a moment of silence. There within, was such depth, such loss, that Shiro felt swept away by it, carried to another plane of existence by it, seduced by promises and disappointments. "If Chaos is a ladder...." Shiro questioned himself in silence, his thoughts turning to her words as the cool waters ran across his sweating form, almost tantalizing against the soreness of his form. "Am I meant to climb it?" Shiro's good arm reached up and touched his missing one with his finger tips, the stinging pain from touch and movement causing his whole form to flinch and ache, but he continued exploring the seered flesh nonetheless. "What sacrifices would it incur?" It mattered not. Shiro's gaze stayed fixated on Hayley's, even as she voice her concerns of his rage and what would happen after his war, a small chuckle erupting from his lips. This Galaxy, the Jedi, the Sith, Imperials and the Republic Rebels, even here on Cathar where the wounds of wars from millennia ago still fester, had taught him anything, was that there always a war to fight. Whether it be within one's self or thousands of beliefs, it was always one to be fought. Violence begets violence. "War is eternal..." Shiro spoke with a cough, the young humanoid attempting to pick himself up from her lap, only still finding himself too weak to move. Slamming his fist into the surf and sand, his eyes boiled like the temper within as he tried again. "And so shall my rage be. A foundation is only as good as the bones sacrificed to build it, and Shiro held firmly in his beliefs. His rage would fuel him, empower him from this day forward even if he was only meant to be a soldier, his loss of limb would not be in vain. He would rise from these ashes of surf and sand on his own, for what had not killed him would only make him stronger. And with each attempt, his anger would only grow more, empowering his determination and resolve. The Force will set him free.
  5. Telperien scowled as the rest of the nightsisters came aboard after her. “This is neither of our starship, it belongs to the Sith Empire. Perhaps if you live out the next couple months you can have one just like it.” The decking rocked underfoot as the ship began to journey from the atmosphere of the sand planet. She gestured to the dining table as one of the very young Dathomiri laid a small plate of hors d’oeuvres on the table. It was some meat and cheese faire, not overly delicious, but it wet the appetite. “Tell me of your journeys since we last met Camik.”
  6. The warships of the Korribani Defense grid were always kept in shape enough to fight, even if their crews took rotational breaks in the relative freedom of Dreshdae’s cold winter nights. However, for the crew of the Unwavering Pursuit, they werelucky enough for the command team to all be on ground. The Admiral, sitting in the chambers of state in Dreshdae, gave a growl of appreciation to the subordinate that brought her the news. “Another defection, another day the rebel alliance falls further apart.” A normal and expected response to the report of a defector, but Lord Valinor had other thoughts. Within a few minutes, a company of the Felix Legion was despised along the docking bay and Valinor herself stood await the crew to disembark.
  7. The Rebel Alliance fleet limped its way home on the brutal edge of complete destruction. Though they had some victory in the fact that they had survived the ordeal, it was doubtful that any officer in the fleet much relished their victory. Raven sat in the antechamber to the bridge, staring blankly at the slowly moving tactical feedback that showed a recreation of the battle. Could she justify every action, every death? Of course there was some justification for any of the losses taken by the Rebel Alliance, a dishonest person could always justify anything. But Raven could not. She could see the faces, hear the voices breaking and disappearing in the recordings, and so she slowly relived the deaths of thousands as the Rebel Fleet limped back into port.
  8. Identity Real Name: Sreth Kikik A.K.A: “Bones” Homeworld: Coruscant Species: Tognath Physical Description Age: 19 Height: Weight: Hair: None Eyes: Black Sex: Male Equipment Clothing or Armor: Traveler clothes, Exoskeleton. Weapon: Worn down Slugthrower Rifle, Slugthrower pistol, Vibroknife. Common Inventory: Rebreather apparatus(Chest) and mask, Eye covers, Communication system (Implant), Ammo Belt, a slightly faded blue scarf embroidered with a golden mynock Faction Information Force User, Force Sensitive or Non-Force User Force Sensitive Alignment: Neutral Good Current Faction Affiliation: Jensaarai Current Faction Rank: Hopeful History Force Side: Light Trained by: N/a Trained who: N/a Known Skills: Firearms Maintenance: Skilled Marksmanship: Skilled Hand-to-hand Combat: Skilled Vehicle Piloting: Novice Speederbikes: Skilled Engineering: Skilled Background: Sreth was born in a relatively good position on Coruscant. He and his sister were not poor, but not necessarily rich. Their parents worked as maintenance employees and made sure they had their basics provided. Sreth and his sister, Muv, were inseparable, partially because of being eggmates that grafted together, and also because they had similar interests. The two would often engage in activities that bordered on illegal, but never anything truly illicit. Sometimes it would be racing their parents speeder bikes, sometimes it was going into the underground just to watch and study the people there, sometimes it was fixing speeder bikes at the nearby garage to help their folks with the bills, and sometimes it would be breaking into a building to steal back stolen property to return to the rightful owners. Even when their parents died due to a ‘mechanical error’, the two carried on. They used what funds they got from their dead parents to run a little repair shop. Still, the two wanted a more exciting life. Muv in particular wanted to get into bounty hunting. Eventually she found a report of a criminal she had seen before, and convinced her brother that they could get a big reward and get into the bounty hunting guild on the planet. The two could be the “Muscle and Bones” of the law, with her being the active “Muscle” and him being the supportive “Bones”. However, their plan went badly. When they ambushed the target outside a casino, the target managed to injure Sreth and fatally wounded Muv before dying. Sreth wept as he held his dying sister in his arms in the dirty street. Her last words would continue to haunt him in his dreams. What was worse, the bounty was not for dead or alive, and so Sreth received no payment. Sreth tried to run his repair shop as best as he could, but without his sister, it proved to be impossible. Eventually he had to sell it and moved off world to Ord Mantell, thinking he could find work there. However, the best he could do was odd jobs, and eventually was forced to do work for the local crime syndicate. His species' natural immunity to pain made him an ideal enforcer. Then the worst occurred. While bullying a shopkeeper into giving the funds he owed, Sreth threatened the shopkeeper’s child. However, this didn’t have the effect he hoped for and the shopkeeper attacked Sreth. The attack startled him and he accidentally fired his slugthrower. In the pursuing brawl, Sreth killed the shopkeeper as well. Having the blood of the innocent on his hands, Sreth wept. He remembered how he and his sister were going to be a force for good. Her last words to him was to do something good with his life. And he was failing her. Overcome with guilt, Sreth turned himself into the local authorities. However, while in prison, Sreth had a visitor who asked him why he killed the people, and why he was doing what he was doing. What started as just brief answers turned into a full blown confession of his entire life. The being revealed that they were a member of a group called the Jensaarai, and if he wanted redemption and a chance to regain his honor, he could come with them. Sreth agreed. The next day he was released (a well placed bribe and some expert convincing ‘erased’ his crime) and taken away by the stranger. Sreth understood that his new life was going to be hard. He had to relearn much of his life. And he had a debt to pay back to the galaxy. But now, he would have a guiding hand.
  9. Yesterday
  10. "Oh I lived on a ship in the Cathar strait...with a man with a droid with its brain in a crate...badum bidoom badum..." The old tune came to Svata without thinking as he shuffled around the room, hand picking out bits of tech and squirreling them away in his pockets like a bird pecking berries off a bush. "Badum biddi bum biddi bum..." he mumbled. "And he said he knew a witch of lore on Dathomir so wild...Come with me and she'll teach you much of love and life my child..." Alright...that should be everything. Better go find Defender Sarlaac. Svata kept humming the old tune as he sauntered through the hallways, tail swinging to the silent beat, his feet occasionally breaking into a shuffle and a slide when the guards weren't looking. At least, he hoped they weren't looking. It took some wandering, but he eventually found The Sarlaac in a practice yard practicing his drills. It was easy to forget sometimes that the polite man was a warrior, but demonstrations like this showed off the years of dedication that man had spent to perfect his art. "Defender Sarlaac," Svata said without waiting. If his interruption was enough to break the duros' concentration, then his new master was in sore need of some retraining. "Did everything go well?"
  11. Kashi, who had remained admittedly quiet through most of the discussion, reeling from the subtle settling truth that not only had the Sith returned, but also held such a vast Empire, sat forward and cleared his parched throat. "First off..." Kashi let his words roll out casually, quickly turning to a quite coyful finish as he smiled. "Please, call me Kashi. Makashi was my father." "Secondly..." Kashi's voice turned to a more ominous and serious tone as his gaze shifted down toward the table after first glancing shamefully at the Imperial Knight that sat across from him. "As you know Grandmaster Alluyen, beings like the ones you are describing so casually, I have never faced before. Cultists, Darksiders dabbling in the forbidden teachings, fallen Jedi... sure. But not the Sith. Not full fledged Disciples of the Dark." Kashi's hesitation was evident in his voice, the self doubt apparent in his gaze. But his determination came out in his composure, his posture, and even the occasional shifting of his Commander Armor not seen since Eras of long ago. It wasn't out of fear that he spoke, but inexperience. And as he finished, his gaze shifted once more to Aidan. "As such, lastly...." Kashi spoke with a half hearted grin, softly hiding his reluctance to work under an Imperial Knight and vaguely showing his realization of knowing his better. "I believe... Aidan Darkfire was it... should be in command and I'll follow his lead. It only seems right that those with more in depth experience lead the charge."
  12. Aziza Kalahari

    Korriban

    Unsure what had just happened, Aziza lay where she was for a moment. Then she heard the thud of a heavy body hitting what was left of the decking behind her, and Amadeus' voice, clear and strong. He sounded uninjured, but she was unsurprised. His words sounded like they were coming from the end of a tunnel, muffled and difficult to make out. She turned her head--but immediately gasped as the splitting pain increased. Her face screwed up in a grimace, she reached a hand to her head. It came away red and sticky. Her master was saying something about natural selection and strength and pain, but the words didn't really make sense. A tingle of alarm began quietly in her mind. She focused on taking stock of her injuries; in addition to the pain in her head, her right foot was in serious pain. Other than that, it didn't seem as if she had additional injuries beyond bruises. The Arkanian was beside her then, giving her the rundown on what was going on, and she grimaced again, understanding enough to get that they were still in danger from some of his enemies, and that their supplies were likely limited. Endure by any means, he had said. He reached down a hand to help her up, and she grasped it and slowly used it to pull herself up. The moment she was fully vertical, however, the world took an alarming spin, and she abruptly vomited, just barely missing her master's boots. Too dizzy to feel chagrined, she was disheartened to further find that she couldn't put any weight on her right foot. She swayed and leaned heavily onto his arm. The confusion that was muddling her thoughts cleared a little. "Have a stimpack?" she rasped. "Going to need to wrap my foot, too, if we need to move." She had been injured before on missions, but never this badly. Her first aid training had kicked in, though, and she grew more and more alert with every passing minute. If only this place would stop spinning so fast! "Other survivors?"
  13. The veteran Jedi finally succeeded in mastering her instincts and relaxed from her poorly-disguised fighting stance. “The former. Genesis is my Padawan. There are all manner of things that I can be counted on to disagree vociferously with the rest of the Order, but they consistently tolerate me. I intend to be perfectly honest with the Grandmaster. I’ll request a new assignment, ask for permission to put you through your trials,” Armiena smirked at her Padawan, imagining what his reaction to the nonchalant announcement of the end of his training could be. “And I’ll make a status report and politely request that she not assign any Jedi to your case. Very politely.” Draygo approached the dead nerf and plunged her right hand into the writhing mass of ants that was her gunbelt. At this point, any exposed edible matter had been devoured and the insects had formed a simple convoy system to and from the carcass of the nerf. Not even bothering to shake away the few insects that gave ineffectual bites at her prosthetic, she retrieved her lightsaber and ignited it with a snap-hiss that was startlingly crisp against the ambient buzz of the night. However, there was no malicious intent in the retrieval of her weapon, as she immediately turned the turquoise blade on the carcase of the nerf by dissecting away one of its ribs with four careful slashes. Extinguishing the blade, Armiena placed a foot on the carcass of the pack animal and ripped away the bone with a powerful tug. “Hopefully we’ll be assigned to a Core world, a place where you can try and put together your memories in peace. Certainly get a better prosthetic arm than something from a protocol droid. My ship doesn’t have a slave circuit, so we’ll wait until dawn before heading out. I’ll take the first watch.” The veteran Jedi sat by the fire and began to methodically cut away pieces of fur and hide and fat with a small vibroknife. It would only be a few hours until the first light of dawn, and Armiena would remain awake throughout the remainder of the night, slowly roasting the nerf rib over the flame. But she only occasionally nibbled at the rib, instead staring simultaneously at the lightsaber hilt in her lap and at a fixed point a lifetime away. She was concerned, but not for herself, nor the former Dark Lord of the Sith. Her concern was reserved for her apprentice.
  14. Last week
  15. ((Posted by Ary with permission)) Nearly an hour of paperwork later, the construct had come to an appropriate arrangement with the representative. Normally, Mechis's facilities weren't in the habit of accepting payment plans, however business was business and this was a larger than normal order from an organization that had yet to welch on its debts. With a small up front deposit to cover costs of the more expensive materials, the rest was agreed to be paid upon delivery of the product, with the purchaser arranging transport as they had not purchased any spacefaring vessels in their order. All in all, friendly terms. Deep in the bowels of the factory planet, code was received and executed, assembly lines fired up, and construction droids shook off the dust as they got to work. The gears of war once more began to turn.
  16. Camik Rhonik

    Tatooine

    Camik’s stride never wavered as she caught up to him. ”You misunderstand me. I did not require such a demonstration. I simply commented on the situation. I have known them long enough that they don’t take offense lightly, and flinging the band around is something they would take offense to.” As the ship came into sight, Camik reached into his robe and pulled out a data tablet and imputed something. Shortly thereafter a loader droid came up to the ship bearing a smallish crate. ”Is this my ship now or simply my transport off this Force forsaken dustball? Either way now that my things have arrived I am ready to go. ”
  17. After going over the plans, Lendron and his crew narrowed down on the Sentinel models of droids. The Grandmaster and the Jedi Military Council wanted droids that could function independently, but also be controlled by an override signal just in case. They didn't want to put massive amounts of money into a small number of super capable droids. There was a fine line between needing numbers versus going with pure quality. The Jedi Order wasn't particularly wealthy, especially with needing to put most of their funding into the Navy and its extremely expensive ships and crews. That is why the Grandmaster wanted him to purchase an army: it might be less expensive than training and maintaining a living army and casualties would not be mourned. He submitted a request for a million of these to be produced and then asked for pricing and financing plans. The Jedi didn't have enough money to pay for everything up front, but they could put a down payment on the army. The rest of the funds would be coming, reliant on the Grandmaster's plans elsewhere.
  18. Adenna was glad for the acceptance and pragmatism of the Imperial Knight. He didn't question the need or overall picture of the task assigned to him, he wanted only to know the details. "You have multiple options, it depends on what you want to utilize. Money is a possibility, but sometimes risky. You can also use the Force to 'persuade' Customs to ignore your lightsaber and weapons. You also could choose to disassemble the weapons and conceal your lightsaber, or a combination of all. Serenno is a Sith planet, but it is not on the front lines. While Sith security always strives to be vigilant, the truth is that nobody can always be completely on their game all of the time. Years of no threats dulls any security system, and I anticipate you and your teams will be able to take advantage of that." Despite her words, she knew infiltration missions were always risky. That is why she wouldn't be going with the initial team. It wasn't a decision of cowardice, but one of pragmatism. If the initial infiltration was compromised and killed or captured, it would be tragic but recoverable. If they captured or killed the Grandmaster, however, it would be devastating. She might not be in the first wave, but she would be joining the reinforcing team that came to help them collect the currency once they took the Treasury and would help them in fending off Sith counterattacks. "I know infiltration is difficult, but that is why we are only sending a half dozen men with you. The fewer that go, the less the chance that they will be discovered. I am sending two Knights to balance out the low numbers. Make no mistake, this is a risky mission, but no more risky than the front lines. The Jedi Order and Rebel Alliance needs this money almost as much as we need a symbolic strike against the Sith. So far, out offensives in this War have not gone well with only a few exceptions. We need to start building victories, and we also need money to buy more weapons, ships, and supplies. This will help us do it."
  19. Qaela

    Kuat

    M̴͉̪̥̖̠͌̀̀̃̽͌͐͋͘ő̷̠̮̲̺̈́͐̌̐͠p̶͎̫̼̹̑̋̇͆̂̇̃̓̀p̵̙̝̎̀̊͑͗̀͆̾̊̉i̶͈̣̖̝̰̱̬̝̻̽͒̚ņ̵̳̰̗̱̤͕̩̗̉͒̄̀̇͒͝g̸̛̛͙͇̪̟̮̙͛̓̓̈͛ ̵̣̘̝͒̃͂̽̃Ų̵̗̟̩̖̲̤͋̓̉̿͑̑p̷̣͉͇̉̅̇͂͋͌ Even though they managed to get some parting shots off at their enemy, there were no more gratifying explosions as ships died. As she had expected, the Rebels withdrew from the onslaught and were now taking position farther out from the Shipyard rings. The space between the two fleets was now littered with the burning hulks of ruined ships with fighters having occasional dogfights of opportunity as stragglers encountered each other. For the most part, it seemed that the fleet combat was over, though it wouldn't last forever. Sith reinforcements were on their way and, if the Rebels stayed too long, they would find themselves sandwiched between two enemy fleets that would finish off what this first battle had started. Qaela smiled at that though, but realized she had other things to focus on at this point because now, two of the Star Destroyers that had been the targets of the enemy raiders started violently decoupling from their berths and heading out for the Rebels. She didn't relish the idea of firing on Sith ships, but better to fire on them than let them be used against their true masters. "All forces, let the Rebel cowards go!" she barked angrily. "Fire on the ships attempting to leave. I do not want them to escape unscathed!"
  20. Hyperion

    Korriban

    A loud patter of metal woke him from his sleep. How long had it been since he allowed himself the luxury? Many moons had passed, and his body took advantage of the short reprieve. A tingling sensation dribbled through his arms, stirring awake separately from where they hung loose in suspension. "Jeeves?" His voice managed to call out curiously. Searching, his hand felt slowly across the fabric of the seat, attempting to release himself from confinement. Guided by memory, he clutched the release and pulled, dropping his mass from the upended control seat. His equilibrium was off, and the fall was heavier than anticipated. Over two-hundreds pounds of flesh and metal buckled into the durasteel plating below, sucking the wind from him. The blood that drained from his nose splattered where he lay, and the sound of small laughter crawled from his throat. "Aziza! You better still draw breath.. The breaking is upon us. You will never be more ready than you are in this moment. You must survive." Hyperion is a name connected to a man who enacted a savagery that would never be forgiven. His mentors were ecstatic with his extraordinary performances and his swift knack for strategy in the battlefield, while his peers inherited a sheer hatred for him in the same vein. There were many that wished for his head on a plate, and his arrogant eyes served to the black crows of Pelko. He had matured much since his youthful dominance, but his rivals had remained within the red planet, scheming with long-lasting grudges to fuel them. They would see the Archer butchered before he could return to rank within the Sith Empire, or they would die at his feet trying. Amadeus stood from his fall, unsteadiness wearing on him alongside the fatigue. There were aches and pains that riddled his body from the impact, but nothing immediately impairing. Many others were dead, and he didn't need to see them to know this, for his senses immersed itself in the emotion of death. There were few who yet lived, and those were the few that they would make their stand with, soon they would come. Au Raa staggered towards Aziza, now watching her move slightly with exhaustion on her features. He had missed her feat of the force, but he watched her inquisitively, trying to see traces of how she survived without his hold. Time would draw more from her, if she was worth enough to endure further. "Sith live by the inclination of natural selection. To us, strength is not only the ability to weaponize the force, but also the capacity to tailor ourselves to unfavorable conditions." Hyperion wiped the blood from his nose, smearing the bright metal that sheathed his mighty arms. "In the mind, those most fit to conquer, must endure by all means. For this reason, affliction and misery is a natural state to the Sith, and those that are hamstrung by such difficulties, are inadequate." He lectured as he drew closer, stepping over corpses mutilated by the impact, paying careful attention to the roaring sound of the winds just outside of their crash site. "Miles apart from assistance, and those that will come, are no more than hostiles. We were shot down with intention. What supplies remained intact, are most likely limited. What bodies remain, will be stricken with fear and injury. The power has been punched, and the storm outside has just begun." "Rise apprentice, and lead us from dissolution." As he reached a hand out to help her up, slight footsteps and clamors from the rest of the ship could be heard
  21. Sirena chuckled coyfully at Solus, so innocent and refreshing, like a small mouse. Her gaze then turned toward the child's 'father', her hand snaking into the small satchel and producing a small baked disc with what appeared to be small chunks of darkened sugar based creme. With a sarcastic chuckled, she took a bite, wiping her lips after with her small pinky finger before she spoke. "But they're so delicious." "But you're right." She spoke, tossing the rest of the treat into her mouth before continuing. "I do have alterior motives for being here. And no, Darth Helios doesn't know I followed the four of you here, at least not in the sense that he asked." Sirena took a seat opposite them, her blue gaze piercing even amidst the darkness, as she recalled her catching eye of them earlier in the streets and her following them and watching them from the shadows. While some of it may have been embellished, most of it was truth. She had a flair of being dramatic in the most awkwardest ways, but it was mainly for show, a means that even the deadliest Assassins hadn't yet to figure out. While most thought her skill was wasted on her loss of intelligence, they failed to see the truth in her game, and often became victims to it. A smile crept upon her face. "I was curious about the three of you." Sirena spoke, the air around them growing cold. "I wanted to know the potential that each of you held and if you would be worthy Apprentices to poach."
  22. Fieldgrey

    Cathar

    The soldier seized in her arms, and the Sith Lord let the man’s weight carry them both into the sand. The boy could taste the power, and he desired to devour it all. He could sample, but could he use it? But oh was it a different beast it was to wield a power like this... She smiled down at him, her sulpheric yellow eyes filled with profound sadness of such depth it would be like looking into the maw itself. Loss. “As they say, Shiro, Chaos is a ladder…” Her mind turned to the old days under Sheog’s domination. To those like Geki and Ar-Pharazon, or to Lucifer. They had created chaos under a similar guise, they would set the galaxy on fire and reap the harvest. A dark visage crossed her face for but a moment, she could feel the inherent power of this man. Would I dare unleash him upon the galaxy? The Sith Lord cradled her apprentice’s head upon her lap, shielding it from the waves that swelled around them. Her ears were filled with the crashing of surf, but her eyes could only see fire. Who would rule in the ashes of such a galaxy? If he desired such power, she would have to mold him. He would create such disorder, and such discord always created echoes in the Force. Would those echoes be enough? “And what comes after your war? After your rage is all but spent?" ((OOC: Try to use it. To show me the power of that rage, but you must fail the first time. Two to three posts of failure should be sufficient. The Power of the Force is illusive until you can create your foundation.))
  23. While he had tried to leave as soon as the guests had left- Adenna took a moment to speak with him. Or at least that was her intent. Tobias remained seated as she mumbled to herself and spoke in half started sentences. This was most unusual, especially for her. Had their time apart cause some unseen reactions? Probably. In order to bridge the gap though, a conversation was needed. One that might never happen, as Adenna told Vos to get better and then she left. As she left, he was sure she felt a spike of outrage from Tobias. However, he reeled the emotion back in, dusted off his immaculate Jedi Robes, leaned onto his cane and made his way outside once again. Had she blinded herself to him? Could she not feel it? Her remarks made him a little nervous about his own assessment of himself. Frustrated and bored, he hobbled back to the training yard-about to do something stupid and reckless. Maybe he was feeling normal once again...
  24. Few were aware of how the biting cold slowly transitioned into a crude warmth from the spilling death and the gathering of masses, a peculiarity that the assassin could sense. These arctic waters now ran septic with blood and blackest ink, defiling the very nature of this abandoned laboratory. The armor of the Dark King was not exempt from this; boiling drool beaded the canine lockjaw of his mask, running slick down his wyrmsteel-covered neckline and forearms, igniting the spider insignia carved into his chest-plate with an enriched oily tincture. Exodus heaved his respires purposefully, dialing down the revelry of his recent rampage, expertly controlling his breathing as the enemy seemed to recede and withdraw into the void. His endurance was beyond comprehension so accordingly, the phenomenal stir of force inside of him quickly calmed to a quiet. “At last you have come, heralded by my call. So quickly do slaves forget their place, existing but to do the will of their masters. When the master is away, those foolish servants think they are free. Freedom is an illusion. For on the day of the master’s return, will they be punished tenfold for their sins. Twenty for they that sought to lock the master from that which was his own.” ”Come to me my children! Come!” ".. This creature proclaims master-hood, but then is it confined by the conviction of the apprentice?" For every word that the creature spoke, it became infinitely more predictable in it's nature. There was a grating animosity within the undertones of the supposed cephalopod, a vengeance that stimulated the aggression that the brute organism utilized. Brooding over the particulars lasted little time, as a coughing belch blew a strange wind of rot down the gouge. Exodus slipped his weight low and shrunk into the washbasin of water and muck below. Something was awry, more than what was obvious. Beneath the surface, the assassin used his protracted jurisdiction of the force to map out the rest of this fever ward. Tracing the life forces of the involved congregation, Exodus began to summon an eldritch fount of power only known to the ancestors of the Sith.
  25. Telperien shrugged as the man turned and left the Cantina at a slow even pace. She reached to her waist and pulled the ancient lightsaber that was hanging from a loose corde of bound leather from her waist. Its red hue overpowering the soft lights of the dim cantina. A few patrons were knocked out of their bloodlust from the very sight of a lightsabre, but not many, and in a cacophony of ‘snap-hisses’ the hue of the bar turned a bright, stunning, red. This was too short a range for the bows of the sisters, so they would make due with the weapons of the Sith Lords in their stead. Her first blow, carried by the quick struck fury in her heart dashed a rodian across the bartop, and her sisters made the work of the rest of them as quick, and as bloody. In the space of just several seconds over a dozen deaths occurred, satiating the bloodlust of the Dathomir Witches, and bringing a fierce grin to the face of their leader. She strode through the still twitching bodies and walked easily to catch up with the erstwhile apprentice. “Camik, your ship awaits you. Though if you would prefer another demonstration of useless killing, I am sure we would be more than happy to oblige.” She indicated the Sith warship with a sweep of her arm, and smirked as she walked towards the starship at a brisk pace.
  26. Three freighters lost... Calculating cost... Battle remains cost-effective. Freighters designated disposable. Continue combat. Master had commanded the freighter's disposal. Master desired the freighter's disposal. They would absorb incoming fire, and be disposed of simultaneously. The freighters were disposable. The Starbride's sides blossomed in pinpricks of light as its "missiles" revealed their nature. When the previous owners had been attempting to refurbish the battle cruiser as a luxury cruiser, they'd been required to add sufficient escape pods to handle the maximum number of guests that the ship would carry. Master had simply loaded the pods with explosives and a rudimentary guidance system. The explosions of the flight of pods striking the escorting corvettes painted Lady's face gold through the viewport. She twitched. Commence new attack pattern...show no mercy.
  27. The Force swirled in a torrent of fear and passion that matched the physical water flowing past the legs of the creature's victims. Nok had only as moment to appreciate it as he gestured at the nearest risen corpse, sending the limping cadaver tumbling backwards with an act of will into the monster's gullet. Perhaps it won't like the taste of rotted meat, he thought sourly. The power the creature displayed was incredible. It flowed out from it, embracing its puppets in a subtle saturation Nok couldn't parse. It was strange, alien, and vast. And arrogant. The creature's mystique had dimmed slightly after it threatened them in Basic. There was a mind there, a mind as limited and emotional as any humanoid. A powerful, hungry mind, but not a god. Putting aside his impulse to bask in his newfound perspective of the Dark Side, Nok's analytical mind turned and ground away at this new evidence. It doesn't just want us dead. If it did, it'd stop the droids from holding back the sea. It wouldn't be talking to us. It has an ego. A grudge. It wanted us here. As an audience? No... It needs us to get out. His thoughts were interrupted as he spotted a small orb hurtling towards the monster's maw. A thermal detonator. A grin spread across Nok's face. Holding out both hands, he gestured at the tendrils nearest to the explosive, knocking them aside and away from the incoming weapon.
  28. ((Posted by Ary with permission)) A mechanical whistle of what sounded like pure joy echoed back across the comm. "We are more than happy that you are familiar with the reliability and quality of Mechis-built products! If you would like to take a customer satisfaction survey at the conclusion of this interaction, please notify your Automated Diplomatic Relations and Sales Artificial Intelligence construct at any time during the trial and sales process! While our digital catalogue covers many things, sometimes our clients wish to experience our quality first hand! As such, we do have an on-site display and firing range facility for you to use to your heart's content, however a small deposit and fee is required for all personnel in attendance, and there are safety waivers that necessitate signing to waive Mechis III facilities of liability. Please stand by while this information is transmitted to you!" Over the next several seconds an enormous file was transmitted to the Stalwart Guidance, primarily consisting of the expansive available catalogue, but also attached were the forms to fill out for the fees, deposit, and relevant waivers. Coordinates to the testing facility were also transmitted. The catalogue itself was large, consisting of plans from most of the major tech development companies in the galaxy, including arms, armor, and spaceships of all make and sizes. The bulk of the catalogue, however, consisted of the custom ordering available, with each page having a disclaimer at the bottom that Mechis III facilities reserved the right to retain and reproduce the plans for any custom designs, which might be resold to future clientele. Also, to the trained eye, many of the plans were likely stolen, but at the same time for such a sheer factory world such as this such plans were likely coveted and traded by pirates and thieves in exchange for goods. Guaranteed they would deny all illicit activity, but the galaxy was what the galaxy was, and it kept turning despite anyone's efforts to the opposite.
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