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  1. Today
  2. Solus

    Naboo

    "Ooohhhh where can I get one of those?" Solus almost chuckled at the new apprentice’s words. Had he not been abused earlier, he probably would have. “This one was found on my homeworld of Ishvara. It’s a place of… well, I guess I never saw much of it.” Solus fumbled a bit for memories of his old home. But most of what he could recall there were of two things. The abyssal blackness that was his time before he was ascended and… “The laboratory was all I knew. Very dreadful, though fascinating to a point. Lots of rotting flesh and broken down droids. But there was a small pack of these ones. My father, my sister, and I had to kill them to get off-world unfortunately. I however broke Tear’s legs and since he was still young, he became mine according to my father. Perhaps you could find a few more there but I highly doubt there are any more left. ” Solus gave a slight shrug. Tear eyed the new apprentice carefully, its teeth a permanent grin with its deformed lips pulled back. The Tu’kata shook his head slightly, the tendrils on its neck moving slightly. Judging by its size and the length its horns had grown, it was not yet fully mature. Suddenly, Solus snapped his fingers with an idea. “I did hear that they were once native to Korriban. Have you been there before? It is truly a wonderfully dark place. I heard that some of the old tombs there might house a few of these. Course, taming one is truly impossible from what I've discovered. It’s more like a game of both respect and dominion. You got to be complete in both control and in favor. I’ve only done so well thanks to my master honestly.” Solus turned his head slightly towards Akheron, wondering if he got the subtle message that Solus indicated. Tear however never turned its gaze from the new apprentice, wondering if it’s meat was more tasty then the cooked morsels it had received.
  3. Yesterday
  4. The walk was brisk and swift, and even though the pain shot through her face with every sylible she spoke, their talking did pass the time. It also comfortably distracted her from her feelings with Aidan. It was good what she did, right? Even with the pain? She could not know, and it appeared that this would be something that needed to play out. It was healthier that way, to take on the pain and the disgust. Face it head on. But for now they had an Imperial ort at least an Ex-Imperial to deal with. She clicked a button on her comm link, and the ramp of the Nubian designed starshuttle dropped down in front of them. The shuttle had been designed for a diplomatic team, so it had enough room for sixteen. Which meant the three of them could each have a separate cabin. She gestured to one of the refreshers to the imperial and sat down at the controls. Before they knew it they were off to space. ((Make your reply in the space thread: HERE))
  5. Her arrival was met by many within the hangars as minimal at best. Outer Haven was not known for their inviting atmosphere, nor did they really take a corporate head of a major crime syndicate as someone worth their time. It both pleased and annoyed her beyond belief. She half expected to have side comments or rude remarks, as such she normally receives when entering a more heavily freelance zone of crime and vice. She moved through the hallways, somewhat nonchalant as she cared not for the side business, which proceeded without any hesitation or delay, much like any other day. It was the epitome of the entire location- zero cares for the core or authority. Calmin Ayion made sure of that when he ran the place. He built up an empire of structures that clearly survived long after his death. Turning a corner, she saw the shop that she was supposed to drop off the 10,000 kilos of Yarrock she brought as a payment from Mamoi to Calmin. Zalis took a breath before she entered, wondering and dreading if she would indeed see the Miraluka or the Wookiee. When she saw neither, she finally let out a breath. Walking up to the main counter where a Rodian and a Sullustan stood. “I’m here to drop off goods for a dead man. Any idea why?” The Rodian looked at her, annoyed and returned to his work. The Sullustan flat out ignored her. She stood for a moment before speaking up again. “Calmin Ayion is dead. Who am I supposed to drop off a shipment for him if this is the location of said drop off?” The Sullustan finally walked away from the counter after she finished. She wondered if she should follow him, when the Rodian finally spoke. “Ma’dam Zalis. Many here will not speak or do business with you, because you are the head of Black Sun. You make it hard for us to maintain business, as much as we make it hard for you. You’ll have to change your tactics and style if you expect anything else to be accomplished.” Her annoyance began to rise, along with her own anger. She didn’t want to be here. Such places were a breeding ground that kept profits low and harder to come by. “Mamoi sends Yarrock to be delivered for a debt of hers. I only care about settling such debt due to the fact that I need access to what she can provide. Or maybe I should find a way to buy such a facility and run it in a way that forces slime out.” “There’s no need to get angry, Queen of Vice. I know where to drop such a load.” Zalis turned around to face the voice, while the Rodian quickly turned his own head downwards to focus on cleaning some blaster. Her eyes met something she was not expecting. A massive blueish purple looking Herglic. There was a slight pause before she spoke, letting for the first time surprise get the better of her. “You know who the Yarrock is for?” The Herglic only nodded his head and then began to move towards the doorway towards one of the many halls of the facility. Zalis took a step or two before she decided to follow him out. Upon entering the hallway, he spoke again. “Name’s Balchi. I’ve become the main muscle here since the death of Jathrrro. Poor Wookiee went insane after his master’s death. Most of what you see here are now fully independent hives of black market dealers, spice runners, and everything else that falls under illegal activity.” He turned and looked at Zalis and gave a slight chuckle. “You think too much for this place.” Zalis raised an eyebrow almost in a surender like fashion. “Well, my thinking is what keeps my own business booming. But allow me to entertain my thinking. upon you. How does Calmin collect debts if he’s dead?”
  6. Sith X

    Naboo

    Feeling the hold that Lady Nyrys had placed down upon their forms loosen with the ending of her words, Oni felt the world beneath him loosen it's grip upon his feet and he rose above it once again like a leaf being lifted by the subtle gale. Her words, wrought with anger and disdain, had been heard loud and clear by all, himself included. For this Empire of her's, like those before, was his duty to oversee and watch as a Chronicler, as a Guardian, as a Testament. But such things were never without unwarranted confusion and boasted brashness of the youthful. And before Lord Mavanger made his approach, his bile and hatred for Oni and his truth filled words permeated across the stone floor. Despite the smile he graced the newly appointed Master before him with, and despite the uncontested lecture he received without interruption, Mavanger had failed to understand his truths. To Oni, he was but a child. A child to be scolded, not pampered. For Oni had lived through numerous Empires, numerous Dark Lords and Ladies. He was living proof of such truths. For the Sith, even one as Oni, immortality was a jest, attainable but fruitless. He may have shed his mortal bindings, but the one thing he could never escape was experience and the wisdom gained from it. And only if the corruption of their darker nature was kept at bay. Many of his brethren from the eras before were no more than ravaged beasts by now, lost in the madness of power and hunger. What separated he from them was his experience as a beast and his loss of lust. That was the curse of power, to one day be consumed by it. And even Mavanger, Nyrys, Inmortos, Akheron... All would succumb to it eventually. It was inevitable. Only tempering one's self could withstand it. That was the nature of the beast. As Mavanger departed, Oni was not without manners. He stooped his head in reverence as he watched the Sith Master turn his backside to him and walk away. And for a brief moment, the Oni that once existed imagined a quick blade through the ribs and into the heart with a simple stroke of ire. But those days, the days of the Assassin trained under Dominus and forged for the Alcazarins, were days long past. Rage, Lust, Envy, they were but constructs to one's demise at their own devices. Dominus, Haphaestus, Black, Cyrus... They were just examples. Blackened Examples forged from infighting and products of Gluttony. As would these Sith, in turn, become. Himself included. But there was subtle truths in Mavanger's words. And as Oni shifted his soulless eyes across the room, he realized his absence in the years past, he had ran far too long from his fate. All he knew had came to pass, and everything he was had perished in dust. From his duel with Exodus as an Apprentice to his loss to the Jedi Kyrie and now the bearer of DarkMetal, Mandalore. He had been gone for far too long. His search for immortality had bore fruit, but when he returned to the Court of Exodus, he found a Spider trapped in its own web. But now with the rise of Nyrys, there was potential. Where once stood a demon, now only a wraith bore it's brittle fangs against the youthful. He had fallen more than he cared to mention. His gaze shifted toward @Krath Inmortos and the Mandalorian @saberforcehe conversed with. He knew it was time to remind both the Galaxy and the Sith he knew as brethren why he carried the name Darth Oni, even if his fate became sealed. Shifting across the untouched stone, he made his gliding approach toward the two, catching the near end of their conversation as the Mandalorian stepped to depart. "What my burc'ya means to jorhaar'ir, is that we wish to be the ciryc buurenaar of your gaan." Oni spoke in a near perfect combination of Basic and Concordia dialect. "Mando'ad draar digu, ner vod" Burc'ya = "Friend" Jorhaar'ir = "Speak/Talk" Ciryc Buurenaar = "Cold Storm" Gaan = "Hand" Mando'ad draar digu, ner vod = "Mandalorians never forget, my brother"
  7. Noto’s face turned into confusion at first. Each face plate tried to move together in the center of his face, taking each millimeter as far as it could go. “So, you are telling me to treat my force sense as that...a sense...but…” Noto reached up and stroked his face plates again and looked around pointlessly, trying to piece things together outloud. “I do not use it as a sense. But with time it will become more sense like? I’m not sure how that makes sense. Not that I’m questioning you, sir, um, sorry, but uh, I am not eyeless, erm um, I mean…” Noto placed a tentacle on his face in embarrassment. In that moment of silence and embarrassment, Noto felt a little bit of his suckers on his face. This momentary distraction led him down a new line of thought. “But, if I keep practicing it, like you said…aha! I get it!” Noto suddenly jumped slightly, and in an entirely uncivilized way according to his peoples, brought out 6 of his eight tentacles from his robes for showing. The black mass of chitin, tentacles, and water probably would’ve made a frightening sight for any onlooker. “You say that meditation helps with focus! Like muscle memory! Like my tentacles! See, my people, after our first full lunar year cycle, we do a ceremony where our elders tell us which of our tentacles are meant for grabbing and which for walking. But we don’t know how to use them like that yet! So we practice and practice till it becomes second-nature! Aha!” Noto’s face beamed with pleasure as he quickly put his tentacles back under his robes, aside from the two ‘hands’ he was used to having out. Still, he wiggled a bit in joy, which was very visible. “Thats why you had me do that meditation right after that hike! I see sir! I see!”
  8. HYPERSPACE: The fleet cut through the folds of hyperspace, silent and predatory. Every line carved a path of powerful intent through the void. Like a sleek school of deep sea predators, they moved as one, intent on their prize. Every ship knew it’s task. Every crewman and soldier their commands. Rebels and Imperials stood shoulder to shoulder awaiting the moment they returned to real space. Crews worked tirelessly and fluidly like well oiled machines of war. Kolchak stood at the center of the bridge aboard the Cornelius, his arms tucked professionally in the small of his back. “Vhen ve drop from transit, launch ze fighters, dropshipz, and zupport crsft. Ve vill zhen move to engage vonce ze defenses are occupied and begin neutralization.” _______________________________ REALSPACE: OUTER HAVEN The fleet dropped from hyperspace in unison. This far from civilization there were no planetary bodies to mask their approach. As such, they had to revert to real space a significant distance from Outer Haven; far enough to not raise alarm, and by affiliation, station shielding and defenses. From there, no order needed to be given. Every soldier and sailor was already at his and her station. Orders had already been given. Fighter craft and drop ships leapt from their bays in formation streaking towards the cityscaped station. There was plenty of traffic milling about the station’s airspace. Some craft were awaiting what passed for clearance to land from the difference gangs and enterprises that controlled swaths of the station. Other ships floated in place overhead while their owners frolicked or rotted below. Some had been there long enough, ownership was unknown. The owners may very well be dead. Outlaw techs worked and welded carving valued parts for resale and installing illegal upgrades off the books. In mere moments, chaos would break loose. Loosely held treaties of peace would shatter in the din and through it, the Alliance would wrest control. By the time any alarm could be raised in this sector, the attack would be commencing in another. Communication between the rival gangs, hampered already, were sabotaged by Intelligence Agents already lurking planetside. All it would take was disabling one portion of the station’s defenses, one shield relay; held together by a mutual understanding of criminal heads; to doom the anarchy that this outpost was known for. By the end of the artificial day, the Alliance would be in control.
  9. Last week
  10. Cassandra let a smile creep over her face as she felt the Imperial Knight approach. She had long known of this knight, as she was one of the few adopted ‘aliens’ the imperials had put through their rigorous school. She stood, keeping her hands on her desk and let the smile show through her normally impassive visage. “Welcome home Knight Charlemagne.” She gestured towards the chair opposite the desk, inviting the woman to sit. “Tell me more of the Redoubt. Thoug hI am sure it will be in your full report I would still like to hear it personally.”
  11. A slight smile played at the corners of Kolchak’s mouth. It was as if they read his mind. Deployed from space, the Imperial Marines and Talons would be upon the city in an instant, taking the fight to the more resistant criminal elements and automated-defenses before civilians could fall prey to an extended firefight. The droids and Imperial Knight would carve out any Sith assets; hopefully with the Knight keeping the droids’ seemingly kill-at-all-costs protocols in check. “Zat is ze exact plan Capitan. Imperial Marinez vill deploy via drop pods, as vill our metallic comrades here. Zupported by Talons, I zuzpect short vork ov rezistance. I and ze fleet vill ensure zat defenses are hampered from above and no ship ezcape blockade. If zhere are no objection, ve vill rendezvouz to ze fleet.” List of Imperial Rebel craft and taskforces being utilized in this campaign: 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) SEARCH AND DESTROY CARRIER: Ghost Hunters -KDY-Republic-Class Star Destroyer Damascus |25/25| INTERCEPTION CARRIER: Hornet’s Nest -KDY Dreadnaught-class Heavy Cruiser Phalanx |25/25
  12. That was a rather profound emotional response. Had Zinthos been part of one of the Sith Empire’s many raiding parties against the Republic’s presence on Gala? The Jedi Grandmaster couldn’t place her face amongst any of the Sith--or Imperials--who had invaded the world. Of course, Zinthos might have been ten years old if they’d had an opportunity to meet there. For her part, Draygo had been far more preoccupied with the likes of Vladimir Faust, Kakuto Ryu, a pair of resourceful Sith sorcerers, and a wound that should have been fatal. Draygo just nodded. Her lips thinned as she thought on a similar incident involving a crashing Star Destroyer. “You speak of Admiral Slaughter’s actions above Coruscant.” She fell silent for a few seconds. “If you are absolutely determined to delay an invasion of this moon without significant loss of life, I can see one strategy to divert their attention. That is to make even approaching Nar Shaddaa so hazardous that the Sith will have no choice but to turn their attention towards your fleets. “As I understand it, this moon has a significant orbital debris field that complicates ingress from a number of attitudes. It is within our capabilities to exploit this terrain feature. Safer approaches to the atmosphere can be mined. Others can be rendered unnavigable by converting some of the larger pieces of debris into kinetic-kill weapons. All that would be required is a rudimentary guidance system and a sublight engine. No commander would conduct minesweeping operations with a hostile fleet at its back, and only a few near-collisions would be required before the Sith would be forced to regard an invasion as an untenable prospect."
  13. Atrid Torsen

    Naboo

    Fiochmar nods and gives a nod to Mordecai. "Yes Master, as you say." With that he than turns to Akheron and nods at his words. He takes a deep breath and exhales. "Id love a stiff drink and some food, thank you for offering. My name is Fiochmar, and there's actually quite a few of us in the Jungles on Onderron. We are a clan of hunters." He grabs a drink and some raw meet beginning to eat and sip before speaking again. "I don't understand why more of us aren't with the order, it was named after our people is it not? So we should be honored to help it grow." He glances around thoughtfully for a moment as he looks to Akheron. Munching away before looking to Solus and his pet. "Ooohhhh where can I get one of those?"
  14. He continues to walk with her and thinks about everything the Sith Empire has done, and he wonders if the wars will ever end. "I agree, eat, then get off the planet, then discuss the future."
  15. Oculus

    Naboo

    As his Master approached, he knelt before her with awaiting her blow, his body tensing up and expecting her power as his gaze fell upon her boots. And yet nothing crossed his form save for her words. He grinned as his grip tightened around the lance her held in his grasp. So the Nightsisters' regaling of his lose to the Rancor did not seem to phase her in the slightest, nor his broken form beneath the bound armor they had placed upon him. This intrigued him. "We have won. Lehon is in our grasp." He spoke with obedience, the power coursing through his veins holding his broken form together with the bound armor. "Though the victory was not my doing. The beast.." His gaze shifted upward toward the Rancor as Artor returned the smirk toward Shiro. "...Artor and I met on the battlefield and he proved my better. I still have much to learn." Artor stood in looming silence as Shiro presented the Forcesaber the beast had deposited on his body when he felt that Shiro was dead, sniffing the smoldering air with interest and salivating maw. The smell of cooked flesh seemed to prey at his attention. "This was presented to me by Artor." Shiro spoke as his gaze remained to the ground. "It looks like a lance, but holds a housing similar to a Lightsaber. I think he thought I was worthy of it and his presence seems to mimic that notion. But I leave that up to you."
  16. Skyshatter nodded his head in agreement before his gaze fell upon the two droids. As an Onderonian Beast Rider, technology had always been on the fence. If he couldn't operate it with full control, it gave him a sense of unease. But as a former Jedi and now Imperial Knight, the sense had eased over the years, especially in his growth away from his tribe and people. And yet, he could never quite get rid of the unease around droids completely. Artificial Sentience seemed unnerving unnatural to him. As the Droid designated as Ruin first spoke to him, he unconsciously tugged at his glove without lingering his eyes away from the droid. It was true that he looked like a Jedi, and was once one. But those days were long in the past. Indecision and idle hands wrought his leaving that life behind with Kyrie and the others. He was a warrior, and on the battlefield was his place, his weapon of choice being the Force that bound his breath and step. There was only two differences between he and a Sith. One: He used his powers selflessly and without regard to himself for the betterment of the Galaxy. Two: He used in powers in the name of the Empress, Raven Nasra, whom he had bound his fate to. Outside that, and his personality, there was no difference. Shifting his gaze to the smaller buzz droid, Lok heard his binary call and saw his attempt at communication. Had it not been for the translator that followed Vice Admiral Kolchak speaking in briefly, Lok would have been oblivious to it's intent. "I..uh...thanks?" Lok replied as the two departed behind the Vice Admiral, and he turned to pursue as well. At least one thing they had in common, at least from Ruin's vocal communication skills, is they held a similar objective. Under his breath, he mumbled. "Kill Sith indeed. Everything else lives." Not to say that Skyshatter reveled in death or the extinction of life, but as a Soldier of War, he understood the expectations versus reality. As a Jedi, in his past life, this concept was unknown to him. But with reality, concepts are just constructs of the mind. When it came to the Sith and the Darkside that plagues their touch, death was the only true release. If they managed to stay dead that is. As the trio met with the new arrivals, Lok loosened up slightly, a smirk adorning his face as he gazed upon the squadron. He had never met them personally, but the Talons were well known, even amongst grounders such as he. But now it was down to business. "I'm best in a supportive manner, especially where it concerns the Force." Lok began in his reply. "But skill with a Blade is just as supportive, Vice Admiral. If there are Sith at Outer Haven, they will soon find no haven for them there."
  17. Solus

    Naboo

    Solus eventually stood up and took a few steps away from the others. Let them discuss their plans and plots. He had earned shame from them for speaking badly of the Empress. He would simply observe and catalogue for now. Not that I entirely deserve this shame... Solus silently mused to himself. As if it could hear his thoughts, Tear almost growled in agreement. Solus looked his hound over in curiosity. How smart have you become? Akheron motioned for Solus to follow. Not daring to stoke more of his Master’s wrath, Solus did so, snapping once for Tear to follow. While he didn’t eat the same kind of food the organics did, Solus saw the need to grab some kind of meat for his pet. While his master got refreshments, Solus utilized all of his sensors and memorized each face he could see and their current placements. The withered Lord Inmortos was conversing with the armored one who was placed in control over the rest of the Sith. A curious being to say the least. Just a momentary glance into the Impossible Geometries revealed that the being had no strong connection with the Force, and yet he was placed into a position of power. What accomplishments did he have to be put above Akheron? The newly appointed master was briefly talking with the one sole being who offered a hand to the Shard. This one also made Solus curious, if only because of the singular act of kindness. Was that a ploy? Or simply an act of defiance towards the others, especially towards Darth Mavenger? Even now, peering into the Impossible Geometries, Solus could get glimpses of pain and fury from the two, and Solus was confident who it was from. “There seems to be more than meets the eye in this room” the shard commented to himself, finally pulling up his hood to help focus on the beings in front of him. A few slaves and servants had produced instruments and begun to play. While the tune was simple, even the simplest notes were distracting for the Shard. The language of sound was still fascinating. Solus wondered if in his spare time he could learn to play some music. Such beauty needed to eventually be learned. Akheron was now speaking to another apprentice. A red-skinned apprentice Solus noted. The resemblance was uncanny. No doubt both this new apprentice and Solus’ master were of the same race. Akheron’s words only confirmed it. Still, this new apprentice did not carry the same presence as Akheron. He was much, much weaker. But was he still dangerous, and worthy of being trained like the Shard was? For now, Solus maintained the image of the wounded slave that he currently was, and dropped Tear another piece of meat. Akheron had once mistaken Solus for a droid once. No doubt some of the others might occasionally believe the same if he continued to act like one. Still, Solus pointed his facial plating towards this new apprentice, to sell the fact that he was paying close attention to this being. Tear too kept his caninoid eyes focused on the two Tsis’.
  18. Salute, salute returned; then Bryce allowed her eyes to flicker over the other Rebel officers who had answered the summons to the briefing. It was an eclectic bunch, almost as diverse as any strike team from the Bad Old Days of the Rebel Alliance; she and her Talons--an extraordinarily tall Bespinian, a Togruta, a Duros, and a Corellian--an Imperial Knight complete with the standard-pattern lightsaber of his order, the trim Imperial officer, and… a droid of unknown configuration. All that the shock trooper knew of its design was that the deck plates were flexing very slightly under its armored stride. The shock trooper studied the hologram of the space station before them and pursed her lips. “Aye, sir, I think I understand. Not quiet, not subtle, but fast and furious. If I can make a suggestion, me and my Talons have training in null-gee sapping, to make entry into a ship or station from vacuum. Our armor has its own source of propulsion. If the Imperial Marines run into problems--say, a Sith Lord--we can blast our way in and outflank them.”
  19. Mavanger

    Naboo

    Mordecai nodded to Akheron as he spoke, and while his attention was solely on Darth Oni, he caught enough to give a nod to the conversation. "Go, apprentice. Mingle. Speak with the others, but be mindful of your place." His focus was directed to Oni, and he made his way over as soon as he had the opportunity. There was a matter of honor, and of standing. And there was the matter of the insults that the other Sith had laid upon him before the assembled Sith. He sheathed his blades on his way over, stepping into Oni's field of view, and spoke quietly as to not disturb the mingling that was currently occurring. These words were not for them anyways. "Darth Oni. I presume you were at Kuat, fighting as your brothers died around you to preserve our Empire? Or perhaps you led a campaign to expand it. You must have lost many dear friends, people you trusted, if you presume to speak of me like a mewling child. While you hid under whatever rock you called home for the last three years of bloody war, I fought on every front we've opened. While you casually insult your peers and command them about like the mindless dead you try and cloak yourself with, I devoted everything to ensuring our people were protected, that they were powerful. Every Sith present save for you and Darth Awenydd have seen my work, and I assure you, it is not as insignificant as you seem to imply. My hand was stayed by the Dark Lady this time, but should you insult me to my face again, whether it be private or public, then my blades will taste your rotten, cowardly blood, for it is not just me you insult with those words. You insult every Sith and every trooper and every officer who has given the ultimate sacrifice for our people." He could feel it again. The taste of rage, of sorrow and grief. They welled up, fueled by his words. He could feel his blades pulse in the Force, drawing on the dark energies that surrounded him. The spice of fury, the deep melancholic bitterness of grief. They were his only remaining comrades, the only things that had survived every conflict he had been in. His face was marred with the scars left to him by an imperial knight, and his soul was scarred by the false Empress and her retaking of Mon Cal, where his lover had been killed by their forces. it took every ounce of restraint he had so not attempt to murder the Sith before him, so he silently turned on his heels and moved away. He didn't care to hear the other Master's words- He had made his position clear. He gazed upon the people present- He had been tasked with killing the Empress, and he would likely need a task force to aid him.
  20. Aidan kept his mouth shut. Even though he relaxed a bit, the entire situation seemed rather absurd to him, but not impossible. He couldn't quite make heads or tails of it, but he hoped it wouldn't matter much if he ignored it for the most part. That, and he wasn't incredibly inclined to discuss galactic politics with someone who was practically a complete stranger. Part of him wanted to reach out through the Force and share his concerns with Sandy, but frankly the trooper was also providing a valuable service for him right now in that Aidan and Sandy didn't need to hash the freshly scarred rift between them. And so, he remained silent.
  21. Akheron was somewhat relieved when the Dark Lord decided to intervene and set the record straight....silencing the debate any further before it escalated maybe into violence. He hoped his apprentice learnt his lesson well and the consequences of certain words and actions. A lesson he had several times tried to install in him. Perhaps this time the lesson would go in. In the meantime, he spoke briefly with the group before deciding it was perhaps a good idea to get some refreshments and a stiff drink. He sure needed one. He turned to Mordecai. "I believe congratulations are in order. Congratulations, Darth Mavanger on your ascent to masterhood, long may you continue to serve the Order and lead to victory over our enemies. That said I think we all need a stiff drink. At least I sure do." With that after a brief bow of the head, he vacated. Heading for refreshments, he motioned Solus to join him. Which was probably for the best given very recent events. He hoped the chefs had prepared some raw meat. Such was the diet of his race. Carnivorous and requiring of a large calorie intake. Noting, Fiochmar he approached cautiously as to not cause offense to Mordecai. "Greetings, I do not believe we have had the pleasure of meeting before. I am Darth Akheron, some call me the Lord Of Wrath. But you need not fear such, at least from me. It is a rare privilege to meet and speak with my own kind, if you and your master have no objections, I would invite you to a drink, something to eat perhaps and a chance to converse. Afterall your presence intrigues me, as far a I was aware, I was the only recent member of our race to join the Sith. At least within the last few years, it is good to see another has finally made the decision to join."
  22. Her emerald green eyes narrowed at the response of the Stormtrooper. It was not the first time that she had met a man out of his time. The mercenary that had pulled her out of a slavers cell on Tatooine had been a clone commando from the clone wars. But she had never met another one since. Her hand extended and the discarded helmet flew into it, and she tucked it under her arm. Such equipment was useful, especially if they were going to send this man back to his Empire. “Vader and Palpatine died a hundred years ago. Their empire was lost to the New Republic. And the civil war has lasted ever since.” That was a fresh wound however, and she wondered if he had been at the attack on Lehon or Felucia. Or perhaps he had been frozen in carbonite. Which was not unheard of. “Do not give us your loyalty so freely, I appreciate your trust and I accept it, and the rebellion needs many soldiers. But let us get you cleaned up and fed first. Then, when we are off the accursed planet we can discuss the future.”
  23. He thinks about it for a few moments, then runs to catch up with them, then throws his helmet on the ground. "I trust you then, and I will join you, but you have to realize, I am no force sensitive, and unless you have openings for soldiers I doubt I will be of much help." He shows his face after having thrown his helmet, his face being scratched and bruised, and then taking off his chestplate he shows a lightsaber mark in his side. "This is what also happened along with my exile, and let me ask you, was Emperor Palpatine a Sith Lord, as everyone says, is it true Vader was not the hero he was made out to be?"
  24. Sandy’s smile turned from laughter to the smile of a person that had seen a decade of war and violence. When had she finally been accepted as an apprentice? Age eleven? Before that she had been in the slums of another backwater world. One whose accent she still carried. Thirteen years then she had carried a blade against the enemies of the light, she had seen galactic governments rise and fall, and the fires of dying planets. She had felt the fall of Coruscant when the Sith hurled the crescent moon Hesperidium into the planets surface. She had felt the Jedi Council die, alongside trillions of others. “There is nothing wise in the whims of the Sith. Their lies are a poison that has killed trillions.” She turned her wounded face back to the helmeted stormtrooper. Her emerald green eyes taking in his opaque T-visor as if she could see the haggard face behind the mask. “If we wanted you dead stormtrooper, you would have lost your head the moment you came through that door.” She lifted her hand towards him, showing an empty and scarred palm. “You can trust the lies of your masters or you can trust your own two eyes. Which I assume are not blind based on your shooting.” She turned her back on him, trusting that he would not try to gun her down as she descended the staircase towards the distant city. “Join us and save yourself from starvation and exhaustion. Or do not. Your life and salvation are in your hands alone.”
  25. (some things he says may not make sense because he is going mad and he believes the Sith and everything they say
  26. The stormtrooper looks at her, frowning under his helmet. He thinks about how the lies he makes and how they are unlikely to persuade her, so he let's the truth out. "I have been on this expedition for years, YEARS! I am insane and just found that ship, I can't find out how to get it off because I was never taught that, I am a soldier not a pilot. I am going mad from my stay here, and I was looking for the priests blaster, which is not actually a superweapon, because it is a weapon capable of killing myself in a single shot, almost painlessly, because the Sith betrayed me for failing several missions, so they exiled me, and I can't get revenge because what am I, a fucking STORMTROOPER! I have minimal armor and I am losing strength from starving, and I do not think that they will let me back into the Sith army with a rank of even private. So I want to commit suicide, and that blaster that I was so intent on retrieving, is gone now, so I will just starve, because I know what the Jedi are, people who kill troopers without remorse, you have no emotion and no mercy, so I know you will kill me as soon as I get on the ship, because Jedi are murdering, brutes. The Sith have told me so, and they are what is powerful enough to rule this land, so they MUST be wise, so I must trust them.
  27. Sandy would have burst out laughing if she had not been still in the combat mindset from the few minutes before. This stormtrooper was a strange one, and nothing like those she had served with during the campaign over Nal Hutta. But those had been from the Imperial Remnant. Not the new Sith Empire. But she had been to Korriban, as part of a scouting team under Captain Slaughter of the Rebel commandos. From that experience she knew that the Sith soldier was very likely ill informed or had been abandoned by his intel network for the better part of two years. “Korriban is an abandoned ruin. The Sith military is at Naboo or Onderon. I can find you a shuttle to either of those locations, but I would say let us get off world first.” She gestured towards the distant city below them. “We have a shuttle that is well equipped, and as much as we may be enemies, let us declare a truce for now.” She looked at his dirty armour, stained with a months-long expedition. “Plus there are showers and maintenance equipment on board.” She snapped off the lightsaber and clipped it on her belt, before beckoning him to follow them. (See if you can fill out your post a bit with detail about how he is thinking and feeling. Describe the surroundings as well. You are doing great!)
  28. Zalis sat in the cockpit of the Supremacy and stared at the starlines of hyperspace as she traveled from Iridonia to the Outer Haven. Her mind wondered for a moment how much of this was worth it. Setting up an empire of Czerka alongside Black Sun was an undertaking she knew would require a ton of leg work and people pleasing for a while. And a lot if it was fairly simple and easy for her to do. But to show up in the massive hive spot known as Outer Haven was an undertaking she didn’t think she’d ever have to do. Such a place made dealing with the Hutts seem like child's play compared to how the entire facility ran at Haven. Calmin she was sure was dead- those reports of his death surfaced many years ago, long before the Crusaders even struck at Coruscant. In fact, she was sure that she still owned a stake at the Golden Link Casino when he died. Yet somehow, here she was, being sent by the Zabraks to finish a deal they had with him. Part of her wondered if the dark fur Wookiee, Jathrrro, still operated the facility quietly under the guise of Calmin. He was a poor beast that through heavy manipulation served the Miraluka filled with rage. Either way, she would soon find out the nature of Outer Haven and what sort of business she could accomplish there, along with what sort of profits could be squeezed from it.
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