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  1. Today
  2. Genesis

    Dantooine

    I remained in silence even as my words seemed overlooked, caught up in the conversation as the flame sizzled with the fat dripping into its coals, reaching forward and pulling the steak away. The tension in the air was about as thick as the slab of nerf that this Kakuto Ryu character had thrown at me earlier, though not nearly as tough as I quickly found out in the first bite. "Hof-fa-fa-fa" I echoed as I attempted to chew the crispened and scalded meat without burning my tongue and simultaneously let it cool off without spitting it out. I had to digress though. It made sense that Armiena, despite her feelings toward the man's name, would watch over him rather than locking him away as he had been before. And as she relaxed, I felt more confident that this was the Force's will. Taking another bit, I nodded my head as Armiena began to speak agreeing with her until my mind went completely blank at the mention of my Trials, that bite of meat the hardest swallow I had ever taken. "Wait? What?" I questioned with likely the most dumbfounded look upon my face that was ever seen, like an Iriaz in a speeder's lamp. "My trials?" The conversation continued on without me, myself lost in the thoughts of my trials and whether or not I felt I was ready and what this would mean for Armiena and I. I had grown to enjoy her companionship, the travels we had had, from aiding and abetting my escape at Felucia, to Coruscant during its moonfall, Borleias and my training, and here to Dantooine where i was born. Nervousness set up in my stomach, knotting it up so tight that i couldn't take another bite and handed it back to the man who had provided it. When Armiena took first watch, i walked over and sat in an awkward spell of silence next to her as i tried to find my thoughts and words. Finally, i broke the silence with the only words i could find. "Are you sure that I'm ready for my Trials?
  3. At the edge of the brush, the lean muscled tower of The Sun-Dragon grunted as Bones crashed into him. Grabbing the newcomer about the shoulders, he glowered down at the wayward wanderer; “Surely you have better things to do than galavant about with younglings do you not? We would rather not unteach the truths young minds are not prepared for.” Before Bones could object he cut him off, the tall Corellian shot a caring look at the young Ithorian kindly sending the boy back to his mother before continuing; “I understand that you hold these things dear young one. To become a Jensaarai, one must hold their experiences in their hearts; but trinkets, bobbles, and toys only serve to tie us back to the lives we have forsaken. Let this be a lesson young one.” Standing tall, the fierce Jensaarai warrior stared down at Bones as if daring him to object and silently urging him to return to his studies.
  4. Hyperion

    Korriban

    (Encounter arrives in two posts) Hyperion pulled the woman to her feet, recognizing the wounds that riddled her frame. He ignored her first question, knowing that there was barely time to prepare. Instead, the steel of his hands clutched at the ends of his torn cloak, tearing more of the strange material apart to supply the second of her needs. "Here, use this. Hurry." An impatience waned on the strength of his voice now, seemingly more concerned of what wandered just outside of this vessel, almost as if he could see them through the wreckage. Then, his eyes darted away from whatever it was he could see, and looked desperately over the bodies that lay mutilated by his feet. Lifelessness and a loosening of blood that curdled between the dentured metal floorboards was just a touch of the madness that surrounded the pair. He lowered himself to reach over the deceased; not for honoring the members of his crew, but for a tampering of energy that he could vigorously siphon from, sucking the remaining force from whatever still breathed inside those dying cells. "Boss. You decide to kill her or what?" From a break in the collapsed entrance, the cold and starched voice of a Selonian sneered into play. Other shapes and sounds materialized slowly behind the creature. Nikto, M, 35 Kajain'sa'Nikto Fhysar Wax Muscle Selonian, F, 28 Shi Bere Scout Arkanian, M, 42 Geldalem Zer Pilot Arkanian, F, 21 Izi Zoln Pilot Butler, N Jeeves (Each of these will be made to form a controlled unit for Aziza. She will be made to command them in an increasing capacity. If comfortable in doing so, flesh out a brief personality for each and also a brief description of appearance if it helps. As much detail as you want to add, is to your discretion. I'll roll with how you want them to be as we move forward)
  5. Sheog the Mad

    Kuat

    A com message arrives from the deepspace intended for Quealala
  6. Durose Roshan

    Korriban

    "But they're so delicious." Lord Roshan couldn't help but be somewhat amused that she had actually brought some sort of cookie-based concoction with her. For a "Sith Lord," she was surprisingly silly and playful. Which made him trust her even less. "But you're right. I do have ulterior 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." Roshan nudged Aliss with his leg. When she looked up to him he offered his free hand and pulled her to her feet. "I was curious about the three of you. I wanted to know the potential that each of you held and if you would be worthy Apprentices to poach." Roshan wanted badly to fold his arms and interrogate her. But he had seen what she had done earlier and they were not safe. She said that this wasn't a test and she wasn't sent by Helios but lies are always easier to pass off as truth to the "new kids in town." His lightsaber would remain lit for the time being and he retained a semi-casual stance that could give him the flexibility to drop into an attack stance in a moment's notice. "Let's say I was to believe you, which I don't. You made one simple mistake, my dear primate. You referred to the ascended soulless one as 'the Crystalline.' But as you can see, his chassis is solid and looks just like any other ancient Hutt security droid, albeit a bit more 'handy'," Roshan began as he tapped on the shard's metal chassis. It sounded a touch more hollow than he expected, which caught him a bit off guard but he continued anyway, "Sure. Maybe you sensed that it was Force sensitive. I'd question whether you'd assume that you were getting a false echo or just think you were picking up the presence of organic force users like Aliss and myself. After all, it's impossible for a droid to be Force Sensitive. And it is not some common part of Sith history that such a thing like Soulless exists. Believe me. Darth Hel had be spend extensive time reading her Sith library during my training. And even if you've heard stories of something like him in some random ancient journal, his kind in such a form would have to be so extremely rare that such an assumption would be no less than wildly assumptive and unbelievably brilliant guesswork on your part. So your familiarity with our situation denotes purpose or much more extensive spying than you've lead on or both." Pausing, Lord Roshan adopted a much more aggressive stance as the red light of his lightsaber better illuminated the Sith's face. He watched her reactions carefully as he finished his deductive argument. "You act is cute, human. You clearly excel at humor, wit, and improvisation," the Cathar adds with a hint of sarcastic emphasis placed on the "wit" portion of the sentence. "But we've seen through this monkey business. Why are you really here? How do you know Darth Helios? Do you work for him? Are you two finally done with your tests and ready to train us? Or would you like for us to play more games for your amusement?" ___
  7. Hyperspace unfolded from its illuminated brilliance into a tapestry of deep black, interspersed with twinkling starlight and at its center, a jewel of the Core Worlds, the planet of Corellia, orbited by its moons. The planet was aglow with citylight, a contrast to the background of space. Close in orbit was Centerpoint station, the goal of the Imperial Knight Expeditionary Force, and the sight of countless battles. It was a vast battlefield when viewed through the cockpit window of Kyrie's TIE-Ugy, and she was glad that she would not be in direct fleet command, the job taken up by Al-Afdal Dyrrhachium in her stead. Dialing in her comlink, the Imperial Knight caught the beginning of Dyrrhachium’s broadcast on all-comms. She checked the battlemaps, watching as the fleet set into parallel with those starships belonging to Godfrey d'Outremer. Dyrrhachium’s gravelly voice cut into the silence of her ship like a vibroknife, “...Forces of the former Empire. Former Pirates. Rebels.” His voice almost snarled the last word, he was no great supporter of some of those in Rebel Alliance Command, and he enjoyed working without their authority. Kyrie and her Watchers set into an escorting formation, opening their scanners for enemy fighters. For now they would be on interception duty, until a Sith Lord revealed himself in the Force. Then they would destroy them with extreme prejudice. “We are here to free Corellia from the Sith. It fell without our support in great slaughter. On whom, therefore is the labor of avenging these wrongs and recovery fallen, if not upon us? The Fleet commander let the words hang in the static. Kyrie wished she had the strength of tongue enough to speak like the older man, but it was not her fate. He continued gravely but with passion, "We have been conferred remarkable glory in arms and courage, let us fall upon the Sith with the intent of destruction. We shall hound them until their miserable end!” As one, the all-comms alit with responses. Even the Lend-Lease forces responded resoundingly with the calls of the captains as one voice; “The Force Wills It!” ____________________________________________________________________________ Imperial Knight Expeditionary Force: Task Force Deimos Destroyer Group: Turbolasers Task Force Experience: Green (1xp) Nova-Class Cruiser Ascalon (9/9) Captain: Symeon Philomelium, Maître-Escuier of the Order of Medicine Second-in-Command: Ma’arrat al-Durman, Frère-Sergeant of the Order of Medicine Crew: Hapan Recruits Nova-Class Cruiser Edessa (9/9) Captain: Embriaco Jaffa, Frère-Chevalier of the Order of Knights and Exorcist Second-in-Command: Chanson de Geste, Frère-Chevalier of the Order of Knights and Exorcist Crew: Hapan Recruits Imperial Knight Expeditionary Force: Task Force Phobos Light Defensive Escort: Suppressing Fire Task Force Experience: Green (1xp) Star Galleon-Class Frigate Clermonte (3/3) Captain: Abressa Tudebode, Connétable of the Order of Captains Second-in-Command: Manuel Boutoumites, Frère-Chevalier of the Order of Captains Crew: Former Imperial Navy Vengeance-Class Frigate Chartres (3/3) Captain: Adhemer Hautville, Connétable of the Order of Captains Second-in-Command: Curthose-de-Gauder, Frère-Chevalier of the Order of Captains Crew: Former Imperial Navy Interceptor-Class Frigate Francorum (3/3) Captain: Pelecanum Tatikios, Connétable of the Order of Captains Second-in-Command: Kilij Arslan, Frère-Chevalier of the Order of Captains Crew: Former Imperial Navy Consular-Class Frigate Tancred (3/3) Captain: Eskişehir Yibenah, Connétable of the Order of Captains Second-in-Command: Sarmin Sharazir, Frère-Chevalier of the Order of Captains Crew: Former Imperial Navy Sphyrna-Class Corvette Guiscard (2/1) Captain: Doukara Chios, Laypirate and Conrois Commander of the Hastalion Eschiell Second-in-Command: Kerbogha Siyan, Laypirate Crew: Former Pirates of the Hastalion League Sphyrna-Class Corvette Dorylaeum (2/1) Captain: Dreyfrak Chios, Laypirate Second-in-Command: Alpedrai Knocazi, Laypirate Crew: Former Pirates of the Hastalion League Paladin-Class Corvette Yağısıyan (2/1) Captain: Hainut Mercurius, Laypirate Second-in-Command: Demetrius Confrerai, Laypirate Crew: Former Pirates of the Hastalion League Free Virgilla-Class Corvette Alexandretta (2/1) Captain: Ridwan Harran, Laypirate Second-in-Command: Soqmahn Orotoque, Laypirate Crew: Former Pirates of the Hastalion League Rebel Alliance Lend-Lease: Task Force Enyo Precision Strike: Carrier Group Taskforce Experience: Veteran (2xp) Quasar Fire-class Cruiser-Carrier Azincourt (9/9) Captain: Max Pillate Second-in-Command: Fleet Officer Brigzman Harrate Crew: Rebel Alliance Fleet CR-90 Corvette Maelstrom (2/1) Captain: Anders Rowson Second-in-Command: Halparese Eltoro Crew: Rebel Alliance Fleet CR-90 Corvette Languedoc (2/1) Captain: Atalie Tate Second-in-Command: Shaz Felltow Crew: Rebel Alliance Fleet CR-90 Corvette Vivarais (2/1) Captain: Shir’wer’tho Ande’thekrian Second-in-Command: Snyd’an Ther’rallek Crew: Chiss Ascendency Expedition DP20 Corvette Coeur d’Lion (2/1) Captain: Sev’Dence Ra’teal Second-in-Command: Ald’rev Ek’rati Crew: Chiss Ascendency Expedition DP20 Corvette Augustus (2/1) Captain: Mikalae Shaderna Second-in-Command: Tilli Vasren Crew: Rebel Alliance Fleet DP20 Corvette Hussar (2/1) Captain: Kilgre Redger Second-in-Command: Ongeri Fetchi Crew: Rebel Alliance Fleet
  8. Adenna looked at the temporally out of place Knight. She could understand his fears for she herself had faced them before. Uncertainty, hesitation, belief of inadequacy, and fears of failure had plagued her when she was young and, in some ways, still haunted her steps. She had only read stories of the old Jedi Order at its height, and from what she read, they were not slouches nor were they inadequate. Though her response was firm, it was without any hostility, insult, or belittlement. "Knight Makashi, I know some things about the Jedi of your time. No, they didn't have to face the Sith at their might, but they also were far from weak nor did they award the honor of Knighthood lightly. You have earned your rank by gaining the approval of an Order of Masters who had the time and ability to properly, fully vet and test their Padawans and consider their skills. Though it doesn't demean our current Order, there are times where I wish that the Knights and Masters of today could benefit from that careful consideration and reflection rather than being the product of battlefield promotions of necessity." She gently placed one hand on his shoulder, allowing a small portion of her own surety in their purpose to flow through to him. "I understand your hesitation and fears, but we are Jedi and the Force flows through us. We are on the righteous path, not the easy one, and sometimes that means we must swallow our fears and embrace courage. When I was young, not even a Knight, the call went out to take a stand against yet another Death Star, a massive, moon sized weapon capable of destroying entire planets in one shot. Fleets in the thousands gathered in both sides to fight for this weapon and I took my place among the Jedi who answered that call. I was unprepared, barely skilled, and untested in combat, but every hand and every pure heart was needed. A Master much wiser than me saw my fear, sensed my desire to be courageous, and allowed me to stand with those heroes: a feat for which I am most proud and that molded me more than almost any other I have done. We do not always get to choose our opponents or when we must serve." Her hand left his shoulder and pointedly hovered over her side where the scar still remained beneath her robes. "I cannot say I made much of any difference, but I took that stand and the Force guided me through it, though with scars. At this time, you may not see your own skills or believe yourself adequate, but that is not the man I see." There was pride in her voice as she continued, pride for the sacrifice and history of the Jedi. "You are a Jedi Knight and, no matter what the Sith or anyone else may say, there is honor and pride in that. Trust the Force and let it guide your steps and you shall find your courage and rise to the situation. If you fall in this or any other conflict, let it not be to something lesser than yourself caused because you were afraid or unsure. Let your fall be because you faced a foe truly greater than yourself and decided to make that stand and sacrifice so that others might not have to." She paused a moment. "I would not have you accept a burden you are not ready to bear unless need dictate it. In this case, we are fortunate to have Knight Darkfire whom I do believe is able to lead the infiltration mission. It would be good to allow one of our Imperial Knight allies to show the strength of his Order so that it may strengthen the Jedi as well. We should be departing soon and there will be more time in hyperspace to prepare yourselves."
  9. Yesterday
  10. Zendrin

    Korriban

    Before she could get far her second in command called to her. "Ma'am, looks like we've got company. They're waiting just outside, and they look like they mean business." Kahla's heart sank, but she stowed her fear and made her way to the ramp. Only by sheer force of will and determination did she make it down the ramp, and face to face with the Sith. She locked eyes and spoke with strength. "Greetings, My lady." While she hid her terror deep inside herself, the two security officers on her flank weren't so collected, visibly shaking at the thought of what might come next. The Sith have cut people down just to make a point, even just to get a rise out of someone. Who's to say they won't be next? And with them, their entire ship. They waited for the worst.
  11. Raka Nwul Somewhere along the vastness of Artus Prime, within the domed and grounded capital ship of Raka Nwul, a young Ithorian ran. Down the streets past other Ithorians quietly going on to their business, the young Ithorian ran. Some beings would turn and watch the child, chuckling about the errands of the youth, before going back to their workplaces. Occasionally the youngling bumped into another of his species, who in turn would uttur something harsh and how the youngling needed to slow down. Still, the child ignored them. Both of his mouths on his long neck opened and closed rapidly, drawing in as much oxygen as possible to keep his lungs working. In his right hand was a basket, tightly clutched between five soft fingers and his handmade clothes. Woven from the vines grown in the jungle ecologies by his own mother, the youngling knew how important it was to get this to its destination. His mom never hand-made anything unless it had a specific purpose, and this was made last night. He didn’t know what was inside it though. It felt heavy, and there were definitely several objects jumbling around inside. He had a few guesses what they may be but he couldn’t stop to check. The Ithorian child had to stop and rub his bare feet. His mother was right. He should have worn something to help his toes. These hard surfaces of the City were so different from the dirt floors back in the Overgrown. There the plants grew almost wild, with a careful eye by the residents. He could run wherever he wanted and as long as he wanted. Here it was hard and rough. He wasn’t used to the flat durasteel floor. Why other people preferred this was beyond him. But most of the outsiders who came to Raka Nwul seemed to prefer a cleaner (or as his dad would say, ‘professional’) floor, so that's how it was. After taking a moment to rub his aching feet, the youngling continued on his way. He was almost there now. He was in what the adults called the ‘outsider quarters’ or the ‘housing district’. In the distance above the houses was the jungle line. Thick, tall trees rose up, dangling their beautiful and lush green leaves. The youngling wondered if those trees grew fruit at all. He knew that inside that jungle line were many little critters that enjoyed the peaceful existence, so they had to feed on something. And further in was Bastion. The youngling stopped. This was the house. It didn’t look like much. Four discolored walls and a roof, with a window that was shut and a large . Someone had placed a garden pot next to the door, but nothing had blossomed yet out of it, though a small yellow feathered bird had begun making its nest in the pot, arranging various twigs and leaves to be some kind of nest. The youngling shooed the Manollium away, and took a moment to break the nest apart. While the bird cawed angrily at this destroyer, it left the child alone. If the bird continued what it was doing, the plants inside would never grow. With some care, some water and some nutrients, the plants inside would show progress in a day, and bear fruit within a week even. Course, they would only grow if the resident inside took care of the plant. The youngling breathed in, composed himself, and knocked on the door. He hoped the newcomer wouldn’t be too angry. ________ Bones jumped up, startled at the noise at his door. After pausing a moment to stop his breathing, he realized his right hand had instinctively grabbed the closest thing to a weapon: a simple carving knife. Setting it down on the table before him and next to the datapad he had been reading a few moments ago, and looked around him. The house, if he could call it that, was very bland, almost prisonlike. The bare walls barely showed their painted brown color in the dim blue light of the lamp on the table. The floor was dusty, with only a bright blue rug at the doorway to rub any dirt on. There were some stairs in one corner of the room that led to some basic toiletries, which included only a sink, a urinal, and a mirror. On the opposing side of the room was a cot, holding a blanket, and a small bag of clothes: Bones’ personal items. All of his other gear, like his rifle and his vibroknife, had been taken away from him, held somewhere else on the ship. All he had was his clothes, and his scarf around his neck. Bones sighed as he tugged at the scarf in force of habit, loosening it slightly. This place wasn’t prison, he reminded himself. He had been told multiple times he could leave the house anytime and explore the ship, with the exception of the hangar bays. He just didn’t feel like it was proper of him yet. Another knocking at the door, this time more frantic. Bones got up from his seat and strided over. As the door whizzed open, the Tognath thought that someone was playing a prank on him. There was no one there. A noise got his attention. Bones looked down and realized it wasn’t a prank. It was a youngling. Not even a mature one. “You’re not Moza…” Bones commented. The youngling shook its hammer-like head and rapidly made a bunch of chirps and clacks with its two mouths. “Whoah whoah, what? Um, don’t you speak common?” Another shake of the head. Bones sighed. He didn’t know how to speak the Ithorians native language, and this youngling appeared to either not understand basic or just hadn’t mastered speaking it. To be fair, they did have two mouths and four throats. Learning a new language had to be an experience for them. “Well, whatever, makes no difference I guess. That for me?” Bones asked as he pointed to the basket that the child carried. The child nodded and held it out. Taking it, Bones opened it up and studied it. He felt the youngling’s eyes on him. He knew how he probably looked. With no facial expressions due to his exoskeleton, Bones probably acted like a robot more than anything the child had seen. He couldn’t scowl, or grin, or anything like that. And with the language barrier... He reached in and pulled out what looked like an oblong grey rock and held it out. “What’s this? I don’t think I can eat this…” The child shook its head and held out its hands for the object. Taking it, he shook it once and knocked on it, showing how to identify something about it. Bones watched curiously and said nothing. Eventually the child then took the object and smashed it on the ground once. Bones nearly yelled, but the sound of the object cracking in half. Out from the object dribbled a colorful mixture of purple and grey juices, as well as a multitude of tiny white seeds. “Fruit! Thats fruit!” Bones exclaimed, to the child’s nodding. He held out one of the halves to Bones and proceeded to pretend to drink out of the other, though Bones knew these Ithorians ate mostly flies. Bones did the same, unhooking his rebreather for a moment to take a gulp. He nearly gagged on the juice. It was incredibly sour but thin. It washed around his mouth like water, but tasted like it should’ve been thick. The seeds also gave it a texture that was unpleasant. Bones attempted to swallow the stuff, only for the seeds to get caught at the back of his throat. He coughed a few times, breathing in some of the toxic oxygen, making the entire ordeal worse. Clumsily, he quickly re-equipped his rebreather. “That..” Bones began to cough out between breaths. “...was, ahem, different. You like this stuff?” The child shrugged and held out his own half, still containing the juice inside. “No, no thanks… What is this?” Bones asked. He pointed to the fruit and asked again, hoping to get his point across. The child gave an answer. “It’s...Lu...Lumas fruit? More like sour fruit. Blech…” Without a second thought, Bones tipped the rest of the sour juices into the potted plant next to him. Maybe the plants would like the stuff more then he. The child chipped and buzzed something and began pointing at the Tognath’s neck. “Huh?” Bones asked. The child pointed again. Bones grabbed his scarf. “This?” The child nodded. Bones gently untied it and bent down. This child brought him some fruit, he might as well satisfy its curiosity. Without letting the child touch it, Bones held the scarf gently, showing off the lovely blue silk and fine golden embroidery. Golden stars were stitched in all long the scarf’s length, and at the center, the golden outline of a flying, two handed creature. The child reached out to touch the scarf. At first Bones flinched away, but after a longing look from the child, he sighed and held it out again. The child’s fingers ran across the smooth silk, gently wrinkling it. He began to trace the animal and said something in Ithorese. “Ya...ya a mynock” Bones said, pretending to understand the child. At that moment, the small yellow-feathered Manollium swooped between the two, and grabbed the scarf with its claws. Before the two could react, the bird took off, carrying its newfound treasure away. “Hey!” Bones shouted. He was suddenly up and chasing after the bird, with a startled but excited youngling dashing after him. “Give that back!” The bird flew on, towards the jungle line. Bones knew that getting the bird was a fool’s choice, but he had to. That scarf was too important to him. He had to get it back. Without a moment of hesitation, he charged into the brush of the jungle line.
  12. The ragtag Corellian command who currently occupied Gateway station over the central world of Corellia, looked more and more like a inter-galaxy arms convention. Especially with the arrival of the newest reinforcements from the Rebel Command at Nar Shaddaa. Or more righly, in Godfrey’s opinion, the Imperial Remnant command at Corellia. But in the months long conflict he had developed a begrudging respect, if not a total admiration for the Imperials. Their Knights, such as Lok Skyshatter, or their vaunted fighter pilots had made quite the impression. They at least had some experience fighting the Sith Lords in their own methods of conflict. The GA pilots and officers were learning more every day, and even the proud commanders of the Taipani were now grizzled veterans from the skirmishes. Their faded blue uniforms now threadbare from overuse, and the gold braid even looked tarnished on their shoulders. He could not have been more proud. He himself had come a long way from the bitter senator of just a few years before. He had found his purpose, for maybe the first time in his life. The only regret he could feel was that he knew it would last for only a few brilliant months before it would all be snuffed out. But still, he could not keep the smile off his face as he strode up to the holo display. “Soldiers of our Alliance.” He looked up into the eyes of Prince Amaury of the Taipani and gave him a solemn nod. The prince’s young face hardened into a grim smile. He was a warrior at heart, and like most of the Taipani, had come under his own desires. Glory could only be found in battle after all. “It is time we hurl these mongrels into the void.” He gestured to the holoreport on the Sith fleet. “You have your orders. May the force be with you.” ___________________________________________________ Rebel Alliance Destroyer Group [Turbolasers] Taskforce Experience Veteran (2xp) - Assigned Callsign - Hammer LC-Belarus Medium Cruiser Novarch Ackbar |9/9| LC-Belarus Medium Cruiser Novarch Sikaot |9/9| Rebel Alliance Precision Strike Carrier Group Taskforce Experience Green (1xp) - Assigned Callsign - Sigma TSC-Tapani Class Frigate Eleanor |3/3| TSC-Tapani Class Frigate Jeanette |3/3| Omnicron DP20 Corvette Nantes |2/1| DP20 Corvette Rennes |2/1| DP20 Corvette Saint-Anslem |2/1| DP20 Corvette Saint-Marie |2/1| Tau TSC-Tapani-class cruiser-carrier Vexille |9/9| Rebel Alliance Rapid Intervention Escort: Timely Response Taskforce Experience Green (1xp) - Assigned Callsign - Saraphim KDY Victory II-class Star Destroyer Red Hussar |9/9| (1xp) KDY Victory II-class Star Destroyer Silent Spring |9/9| (1xp)
  13. Task Forces Overview Task Forces are the primary unit of combat and each comes with their own composition requirements, unique abilities, and usefulness. There are three major types of TF's, though more may be developed over time. All Task Force names are for flavor and clarification. PC's are still able to post creative narratives of the actions being taken, but those actions must be in line with the abilities of their TF's Some Task Forces have specialized abilities such as Interdictors. The Cruiser or specified ship is considered the source of those abilities, so if it is destroyed or disabled (such as by the ion cannons of the Surgical Strike TF), that TF cannot perform the abilities. Escorting TF's and smaller ships part of that TF are critical in protecting those primary ships so they can continue to contribute to the battle. Offensive These Task Forces are geared towards dealing damage to the enemy, usually though the Focus Fire ability of Capital Ships and Cruisers, but also through fighter/bomber actions of Bombers Inbound. Though other types of TF's can deal removal damage, these are the primary ones that can destroy opposing enemy forces. Escorts Escort Task Forces are designed to be attached to other TF's to serve as a sort of shield to protect the other TF from damage. This is especially useful if there are highly experienced TF's that may be focused on by the enemy because it lets them stay alive longer and use their Elite abilities. Some of them also have additional perks and abilities that can supplement the offensive or defensive capabilities of the ship classes they are made up of, such as additional protection from bombers or incoming Focus Fire. Special Forces These Task Forces are offer special and unique abilities for a deeper, more complex strategy. Stealth, Interdiction, and Medical Task Forces can provide a savvy commander the ability to surprise the enemy or mitigate damage done. While these TF's may have seemingly limited uses, when used properly, they can drastically change the outcome of any battle. Task Forces Offensive Destroyer Group [Turbolasers]: Focus Fire Capital Ship or 2 Cruisers Green: The TF can target an enemy ship and subject it to a withering hail of turbolaser fire using Focus Fire. Veteran: More potent turbolaser gases and higher quality crystals allow the ships to better chew through enemy shields. Focus fire damage against Capital Ship shield health is increased by 2 points, 1 point for Cruisers. Elite: The TF can put all power to weapons, doubling the damage it causes with Focus Fire, but also doubling the amount of damage it takes that turn from enemy removal attacks. Destroyer Group [Rail guns]: Focus Fire Capital Ship or 2 Cruisers Green: The TF can target an enemy ship and subject it to a destructive barrage of rail gun fire using Focus Fire. Veteran: The TF has been allocated special armor piercing rounds for targeting heavily armored ships. Focus fire damage against Capital Ship shield health is increased by 2 points, 1 point for Cruisers. Elite: The TF does not suffer damage penalties or the one round delay to attacks on distant targets like artillery. Destroyer Group [Missiles]: Focus Fire Capital Ship or 2 Cruisers Green: The TF can target an enemy ship within range and subject it to an explosive salvo of missiles using Focus Fire. Veteran: The TF has been allocated specialized high explosive cluster bombs for targeting Corvettes. When the TF uses Focus Fire on Corvettes in a Round, they do double damage, but only to the Corvettes. Spillover and all other damage to other ships is reduced to zero. Elite: The TF may treat its Focus Fire damage like a Bombers Inbound action, allowing it to ignore Cruiser and Capital escorts but making it vulnerable to reduction by Corvettes and Starfighter Interception defenses. Precision Strike Carrier Group: Fighter Command Capital Ship or Cruiser supported by Frigates and/or Corvettes Green: The TF controller can perform an additional Starfighter Action for the round, that must be Bombers Inbound. Veteran: Bombers Inbound does an additional point of damage. Elite: The TF controller can perform an additional Starfighter Action for the round, that must be Fighter Escort. Hellriders: Hit and Run Tactics Corvettes only Green: The corvettes can engage Cruisers or Capital Ships to support either a Focus Fire or Bombers Inbound removal ability. The targeted TF can either choose to focus on the Hellriders, costing the Hellriders two Corvettes but doubling the base value of the chosen ability, or they can ignore the Corvettes and take three hull damage as the Corvettes exploit vulnerabilities on the ship’s flanks and aft sections. Veteran: Hellrider formations tend to draw the most brash and aggressive captains, risk takers that owe success to high stakes gambles rather than experience and discipline. This TF has a reputation that makes recruiting these men and women easily, and does not have to sit out the next battle if they suffered heavy losses. Elite: Gut churning space acrobatics allow the Hellriders to reduce their losses to one corvette if the enemy TF they targeted chose to focus on them. Escort Battle Line Escort: Tradition of Excellence Capital Ship Green: The TF regains two points of shield damage at the end of each round. Veteran: The Battle Line can focus all power to shields and halve (rounding up) the power of any direct removal abilities (except for artillery) for the Round. While this ability is in play, abilities that would normally bypass shields from TFs like the Hellriders and Covert Strike Force hit the shields instead. While this ability is in play, the TF takes double damage from artillery attacks, and enemy ships do not suffer penalties from combining fire on the ship (although the three TF cap for combined attacks remains). Elite: If the fleet is in danger of total destruction, the TF can launch a suicidal assault to allow all other allied ships to flee the battle. Doing this wipes out the Battle Line TF, but it can prevent a wipe by an Interdictor supported enemy fleet. Additionally, the TF can reduce one source of removal damage to one damage once per battle. Heavy Brawler Escort: Hammer and Anvil Capital Ship Green: The TF has been fitted with heavy armor, and has an additional ten hull points. Veteran: The TF uses its heavier armor to close the distance with threats and engage them at close range with weapons designed for high damage at short range. Non artillery and detected TF's that attack ships being escorted by this TF or the TF itself take three removal damage in return. There is no limit to how many times this damage can be triggered per turn. Elite: The TF adds an additional damage to its counterattack for each non artillery and detected ship that attacked it or the TF it is escorting this turn. Rapid Intervention Escort: Timely Response Two Cruisers Green: If held in reserve, the TF can perform an escort action during the arrival phase. Veteran: The TF can reposition to cover another TF at fast speed. Elite: The TF decides which ally it will support after actions are declared but before they resolve. Light Defensive Escort: Suppressing Fire Frigates and Corvettes Green: Starfighter actions on the TF or allied ships that the TF is supporting are resolved at normal speed. Veteran: The TF can treat itself and any TF that it is supporting as being targeted by Interception(focused deployment). Elite: Any enemy Bombers Inbound and Snubfighter Escort actions that target this TF or a TF that it is attached to suffer a one round cool down before they can be reused. Mobile Disruption Escort: Aggressive Defense Corvettes only Green: Coordinated and highly disciplined evasive maneuvers effectively translate to corvettes in this TF having a second point of hull damage. Veteran: Rather than attaching to an allied TF to cover it like normal for escorts, the MDE can attach to an enemy TF with removal abilities and force it to target them first. If the enemy TF is a Carrier Group, its Bombers Inbound action is treated as going through an additional Corvette screen. Elite: Localized jamming causes the targeted TF to be unable to participate in coordinated attacks with its allies, and the MDE Corvettes are now considered to have three points of hull damage for the purpose of removal abilities. Special Forces Interdiction Cadre: Interdiction Field Interdictor Cruiser supported by Frigates and/or Corvettes Green: Gravity wells severely hamper retreat, allowing the TF commander to nominate a number of task forces equal to the scale of the battle each round, those task forces cannot withdraw or microjump for that round. Alternatively, allied TFs may be nominated to make them immune to enemies using microjumps or precision jumps to flank them. Veteran: Interdiction fields can be used to precision deploy fleet assets, but this damages their hyperdrives, preventing them from being able to withdraw early for the rest of the battle. Elite: As long as the Interdictor is functional, its crew can largely prevent any ships from fleeing. Enemies can only withdraw one task force each turn. Electronic Warfare Pod: Information Control Dedicated EW and Comms Cruiser with Frigate and/or Corvettes Green: The TF can jam long range communications. Veteran: The TF can jam enemy sensors. Elite: The enemy penalty for targeting the same TF with more than one TF becomes a cumulative -3 instead of -2. Covert Strike Force: Silent Hunters One Stealth Cruiser Green: The TF uses stealth armor and sensor baffling countermeasures to prowl unnoticed along the edges of the battle. As long as the cruiser does not engage, each Round they can bank three points of damage while stalking an enemy TF. On the TF commander’s order, the banked damage can be applied to a target ship’s hull integrity, ignoring support ships and shields. Banked points are not lost if the TF disengages to avoid scans, but are lost if the target is destroyed or the TF starts stalking another target. If the ship is discovered before it applies its banked damage, the damage is treated as a normal attack that can be distributed to support craft and shields. Veteran: The TF has a cloaking device, making cruiser and capital ship direct damage be treated as if there was an additional ship firing at the same target, reflecting the difficulty of targeting the cloaked ship. Furthermore, this ship does not generate an extra sensor ping when firing. Elite: The TF carries special ordnance such as gravity bombs and can bank five points of damage instead of three when targeting a capital ship. Medical Support Cluster: Guardian Angels Frigates Green: As long as the Task Force doesn’t engage the enemy, it is considered a war crime to target them. The TF can support an allied TF by attaching to it, that TF reduces the end of battle damage penalties it suffered by one degree. Veteran: The frigates can split into two groups and move to support two different task forces. Elite: The frigates can split into three groups and move to support three different task forces. If the enemy has fought honorably(IE not committed war crimes), both sides benefit from the presence of medical rescue teams, and task forces that are wiped out lose one XP instead of an entire rank. If the enemy has fired on medical ships this campaign, only the medical support cluster's side gets this benefit. Asset Denial Force: Surgical Strike Cruiser with Frigate and/or Corvette support Green: A heavy ion cannon barrage disables one unshielded ship at fast speed for that Round. Disabled ships cannot contribute their Focus Fire or other special abilities (such as Interdiction or Comms Jamming), withdraw from battle, provide support or escort, or issue additional starfighter commands. Veteran: The TF can perform its ability on arrival if coming in from reserve. Elite: The TF has an experimental new type of hyperdrive that allows it to choose to ignore interdiction fields and make precise micro jumps, allowing for constant repositioning. The TF can ignore Supporting and Escort ships or TF for its ion cannon attack, but only if the target is not the same one that was targeted last Round. Fleet Command : Flagship Capital ship, one per faction under the command of the grand admiral. The grand admiral does not need to use his or her flagship, but only they can command it if it is on the field. The grand admiral picks one upgrade to start, and selects a new upgrade at a rate of every two battles plus the number of current upgrades. Since the upgrades are specific to the ship, abilities that prevent veterancy loss cannot be used on the flagship. Axial Weapon (MK I-III): The ship may perform Focus Fire as if it was a Destroyer Group(Turbolasers). At MK II, its damage becomes eight, and at MK III, its damage becomes nine. Target Saturation (MK I-V): The ship is flanked by a number of up armored and heavily shielded transports used to provide cover, halve focus fire damage to it for the first round that it is fired upon. Each additional upgrade grants an additional round of halved damage. Precision Deployment: The ship house a small gravity well generator that can be used to precision deploy fleet assets, but this damages their hyperdrives, preventing them from being able to withdraw for the rest of the battle. Advanced Sensor Suite: Gain an additional scan every round. Ultra-Heavy Flak Cannons (MK I-IV): The ship carries a network of remorselessly deadly flak weapons. At MK I, treat the flagship as supported by Corvettes. At MK II, treat the flagship as having been targeted by an Interception (Close Support) action. Add an additional Interception (Close Support) for MK III and IV. Meditation Chamber: Force Users can use these specially designed rooms to increase the efficiency of their forces, either gaining an additional Starfighter Action or allowing two TF's to choose the same target for Focus Fire without penalty to damage. Citadel Overshield: Superior shield management prevents attacks that ignore shields from going straight to hull damage, instead being treated as regular attacks. Pocket Dreadnought (MK I-3): The flagship is far larger than a standard capital ship, allowing for heavier armor and more powerful shield generators. This translates to an additional five shield and hull health. Each further upgrade grants five additional shield and hull health.
  14. And there were the two Jensaarai. Fantastic. They noticed him and therefor it was now rude to just walk away from them. Might as well make some new friends. "Defenders." He chuckled, warmly. "Hmm, my journey is forever evolving." The two addressed one another briefly and then back to Vos. Shrugging, he smirked and looked at the Jensaarai. "Doubtful anyone can help me with my quest. Unless you can put me in front of the Dark Lord?" His expression, despite being hidden behind the cloth wrapped around his eyes, was humorous- but serious. "Or behind him... as long as I am not a prisoner of theirs." He shrugged in a way that expressed a 'But hey, what can you do' as sort of a manner. "I haven't been given any direction as to what your crew is planning, nor have been instructed to assist you. I am a leaf upon the wind... as it were." Vos chuckled again. His warm and friendly aura suggested he was part of the happy-go-lucky crowd.
  15. It could not be said if the pair of streaking missiles blotted the life from either of the two enemy pilots. What was sure, was that both TIE defenders turned into a mass of spinning detached wings, fire, and burning fuel. Beth said a silent prayer as the rest of the squadron reported their individual kills. The Sith had gotten very unlucky, and Beth felt a sorrow edging her voice. “Splash two.” Dimitri tweedled a response that sounded like a mournful wail. “Spast them.” She didn’t swear at the unlucky pilots, she swore at the Sith command that had sent a squadron to their deaths. The pilots she knew, if they survived, would have marked it as misfortune and would someday lift mugs of ale to each other. She banked the fighter towards the distant burning wreckage and her squadron followed. It was time for the final secondary mission of the flight either way. Comms were respectfully silent as she ordered Dimitri to begin sensor sweeps for lifesigns. They found 5 out of twelve EV pilots from the Sith forces and after marking their locations with flares, as well as dropping off EV support from their cargo bays, they transmitted the coordinates to Sith High command, and banked back to the Rebel Fleet. Another small victory in a galaxy wide conflict.
  16. 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.
  17. ‘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.
  18. "...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.
  19. 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.”
  20. 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.
  21. 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.
  22. Identity Real Name: Sreth Kikik A.K.A: “Bones” Homeworld: Coruscant Species: Tognath Physical Description Age: 19 Height: 5'11 Weight: 218 lbs 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.
  23. Last week
  24. "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?"
  25. 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."
  26. 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?"
  27. 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.
  28. ((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.
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