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  1. Today
  2. Qaela


    𝔖𝔱𝔬𝔯𝔪 𝔣𝔯𝔬𝔪 𝔄𝔟𝔬𝔳𝔢 Coronet City, Corellia Captain Gon'draur did his best not to show his nervousness as the Septim's Pale was escorted down to the dockyards in Coronet City just like he had many times before. When they landed, he began the normal procedures while his crew went about their business, preparing for the normal transfer of cargo. About a quarter of his hold was full of genuine cargo so they began offloading it just like always. The rest of the holds were life sign shielded and calibrated to reflect mass consistent to having a full hull of mechanical parts meant eventually for the small craft shipyards on the planet's surface. He never messed much with the heavy equipment that went into the frigates and capital ships that were constructed in orbit. His Sith handler had not yet given the signal, so they remained in their disguised holds while his crew unloaded crates of parts. * * * * * Corellia Orbit, an hour later It began as a series of flashes that even inexperienced spacers knew meant ships were reverting from hyperspace in the hundreds. While the Rebel fleets had taken their combined might to attempt to push the Sith forces out of Centerpoint a couple of lighthours away, they had left the prize of the system all but undefended. The gamble might have worked, for had they managed to push out the Sith incursion, they could have forced the Sith to reconsider their invasion plans. Though she didn't know what thoughts went through the heads of the Rebel command structure, Qaela was glad they had come to the conclusion they did. Instead of facing the small garrison she had left behind when she had been forced to come to the aid of Kuat's defenders, they now faced the might of a full Sith invasion armada led by the Glorious Spider himself. Instead of quickly overwhelming the weakened defenders of that station, the Rebels were facing a brutally effective war machine fresh from victory after victory that was ready and howling for blood. And, to make matters for them worse, while their fleets were fighting against the Sith Navy, the system's capital would now face the wrath of the Sith's Army led by a truly hacked off Nightsister turned Sith Mistress. Wing after wing of fighters and bombers dropped out of hyperspace escorting over a hundred landing craft carrying armored vehicles and assault shuttles. These shuttles were carrying ten thousand battle hardened Sith troopers from campaigns like Kashyyyk, Kuat, and Corellia along with scores upon scores of assault tanks, speeder bikes, and APC's to aid the Sith forces in their conquest of Coronet City. These men and women of the Empire were instructed to show no mercy to any who stood in their way and not to worry about civilian casualties in this fight. They wouldn't go out of their way to slaughter civilians, but neither would they hold their fire or hesitate to level buildings if it would advance their lines. Qaela had tried to be nice and benevolent in this invasion, but the Rebels had attacked Kuat so now they must face the wrath of the Empire. While the fighters and bombers spread out in rapidly developing dogfights with Corellia's few remaining defenses, the shuttles and landers approached Corellia's atmosphere at rapid speeds. When the first dozen shuttles hit the exosphere over Coronet City, they opened their cargo bays and began spiraling around their center axis, releasing tens of thousands of small, soft stones and spraying them out in all directions in front of the invasion fleet. With their momentum and being this close to the gravity well, they quickly began raining down on a wide swath of Corellia in a brilliant firestorm of meteorites that lit up the sky. These stones were specifically selected for both mass and size to ensure they burned plenty bright, but would be consumed well before hitting Corellia's surface. To those below, it would seem that the sky was falling upon them in some sort of primitive religion's apocalypse of doom. And doom it was, for behind the flaming streaks came the Sith invasion force howling for vengeance. Though some of the shuttles were intercepted by AA placements or Rebel fighters, the majority of them landed throughout the city. Most were able to choose open areas such as parks or major squares to land, but some simply blasted buildings into rubble to create their landing zone. Jamming fields were emitted from each shuttle and lander overloading the comm waves with static and random noise that would hamper any communications throughout the city and further add to the chaos. Each shuttle and lander had specific targets that they were to take and hold, so as soon as they landed, their troops would begin assaulting key areas such as mass transit hubs, police stations, power plants, broadcast towers, and CorSec Headquarters, and the capitol building. They might not all succeed in taking their targets, but the plan was that with so many smaller units attacking all over at once, the Rebel defenders couldn't figure out exactly what to defend or where to attack. Chaos was glorious. Qaela herself was with a group of several hundred troopers backed by assault tanks that was tasked with taking the capitol building along with whatever government officials that were present. Anyone who attempted to leave the building would be shot at and hopefully killed, for she was in no mood to be nice. With her blood red lightsaber and a small army at her back, she led the charge in, cutting through whatever paltry defenders she could until she either took the capitol or met someone worthy to fight.
  3. Yesterday
  4. Kakuto Ryu


    Ryu pondered Armiena's suggestion that he find a cudgel. It seemed like an odd suggestion, but when he contemplating it he was taken back to the black room, to his hallucinations in the darkness. His mind became washed with the images of blood. He clenched his eye shut and grimaced. "I think the lightsaber will be fine." This too seemed ponderous. A lightsaber? He had asked for it on a sort of instinct, but he knew that such a weapon was not common. This is a weapon for a Jedi... or... Ryu felt a pain in an scar on his chest. He thought of the silver blade of the specter that had haunted him in the dark, who had tortured him and he had, in turn, he had attempted to murder. Though in his dreams he had killed the specter, he felt it was still nearby. Taunting him with a twisted echo of his own voice, and a snarling likeness of his own face. As Armiena promised to talk to him about his past he felt the more unease than the last time they had discussed his past. Somehow it seemed like in gaining knowledge of his history, he risked losing something he had gained in its place. So he again felt a certain sense of dread about the proposition, and decided to try to escape those thoughts by focusing on the mission at hand. He moved his hand to the back of his neck, and pressed lightly on the outline of an irregular pentagon, popping open a small mechanical plate which extended a the end of cable between his fingers. He pulled and an optical data cable stretched out from his neck, which he plugged into a port on the console near his own seat in the cockpit. "I'm... taking to Shippy, to see what she thinks." Ryu mumbled, the cybernetic interface in his brain filling his thoughts with data about the ship. As the craft charged forward toward centerpoint, Ryu was beginning to hear the Ship's voice in his head. "Shippy... Wants to punch them. I... I don't know if my interface is working right." From out of the front view port, Shippy's mechanical arms folded out, its mechanical fingers clenching into a fist as it made a few mock punches. A grin spread across Ryu's face. For the moment, it felt like had both of his arms again. "Shippy wants you to bring her in close to the enemy so she can hit them with her fists. This interface is probably malfunctioning, but she seemed quite insistent that I let you know." The arms spread wide as if to say, 'come at me, bro', then went into a boxing pose. "Shippy and I are friends now." Ryu proclaimed with a matter-of-fact intonation.
  5. Svata gave Sarlaac a lopsided grin, his whiskers bristling. In one hand he cradled his iron staff, hidden blades sheathed. In the other loosely dangled his heavy blaster pistol. The old ryn looked every bit the part of a rogue. "It'll all depend on who's onboard and what they're transporting, but if this shipment is worth taking...well, it's probably worth protecting. We can hope, but I'd be ready for droids or troopers. We probably won't need to worry too much about reinforcements, but with the rebels stepping up their attacks I wouldn't put it past the Sith to start instigating piracy policies. Ships patrolling just off the hyperlanes, that sort of thing. Sith can get pretty ruthless when they get pushed. I heard a story about a freighter transporting explosives, only for them to go off once they were boarded by pirates. Turned out they'd been shipping those bombs back and forth for weeks waiting for a pirate to take the bait." Svata shrugged. "In the end we can't control what they'll do, just do our best to do the right thing. At least, that's what's always helped me sleep at night." He turned back, and a serious expression tightened his face. Old pain danced across his eyes for a moment, then it was gone. "Just gotta do what we can."
  6. “Darksun Actual. EI landing ETA updated to ten seconds.” The SCI inside his helmet buzzed as the connection cut and with it went a good deal of hope that this mission would be an easy one. Lancelets of red and green fire shot up from the turrets on the Assault Shuttles that had dropped Darkhand off and Delta’s eyes followed the coloured streams up to where he saw three shuttles barrelling down for a close approach. The Police units that had responded were just arriving to strengthen the Sith cordon as the first ground based fire started to head their way. Inaccurate at first, as all covering fire usually was, Delta knew it would tighten down when enemy infantry got into sight. “Reverse position, prepare for flanking attack, Delta, Alpha send five men to reinforce Echo and fill voids with local colonial troops.” Delta leapt over the grounded hoverspeeder as did the men closest to him and crouched behind the engine block. It was then, as his eyes adjusted to the flow of blasterfire that he saw a singular lightsabre. Not a traditional colour such as Red, blue, or green. No it was as orange as the deepest fire. As orange as the surface of Dathomir had been a decade ago. The colour of wroth. The colour of righteous anger. And it brought a bitter smile to his face. “Lieutenant Hensi, Johnson, Kolo, and La’ten. You are with me. Remember, place your shots well, and keep the rate up. See her?” A chorus of acknowledgements echoed through the comm link in his helmet. “Lets see if we can bag and tag another one for his royal majesty.” He let the sight picture clear, then he flicked his barrel up a fraction of a degree so that his eye caught the secondary sights and pressed the forward most trigger. Just a light tap, twice, and twice the gun recoiled into his shoulder as the small explosive charges in the 42mm concussion grenade’s shells launched them in a tight arc towards the elegant woman. They were impact explosives and should they connect, it would swiftly end the fight before it began. Not the most elegant way of dealing with Jedi Knights, but they did their job. With that opening salvo, the rest of the men on the Sith cordon opened up with their own blaster rifles. The three surrounding soldiers that were spread out among the parked landspeeders began to open up on the Jedi and the men around her. While they opened up with withering streams of red baster bolts, Delta slid the breech of the grenade launcher forward and with a practiced precision, let the empty casings fall to the duracrete before sliding two red nosed grenades into their place. He closed the breach again with a snap and checked the readout of his HUD. The readout of his shields and the armour were still at full, like they had been since the beginning of the mission. He sighed and brought the rifle back to his shoulder, letting the holographic sight picture settle ((1)) ((Three round duel between Adenna and Delta. Delta is bringing 4 tactical NPCs))
  7. Exodus


    Inquisitor Barca peered down the dogged metal of his ghoulish helm, "Destroy them." And so, the dreadful machine of the Sith Imperial Armada poured forward to meet their archenemies in a new theater of war. Sith-Imperial Forward Command Commanded by Exodus Fleet Command (Flagship) High Command: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Augmentation: Axial Weapon Xhendora-Class Dreadnought, Goliath |20/20| Battle Line Escort: Tradition of Excellence Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Gladiator-Class Star Destroyer, Minotaur |20/20| Precision Strike Carrier Group: Fighter Command Commander: Exodus, Inquisitor Barca Task Force Experience: Green, 1XP Acclamator II-Class Assault Ship, Typhoon |9/9| EF76 Nebulon-B Escort Frigate, Basilisk |3/3| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Ambush |2/1| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Caldwell |2/1| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Kilchreest |2/1| CR92a Assassin-Class Corvette, Foxhound |2/1| Sith-Imperial Command Commanded by Nok Morliss Heavy Brawler Escort: Hammer and Anvil Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Bulwark Mark II Black Bracer |20/30| Destroyer Group (Missiles): Focus Fire Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser Moon Beetle |9/9| Captor-class Heavy Munitions Cruiser The Broken Bullet |9/9| Covert Strike Force: Silent Hunters Assigned PC: Nok Morliss (commanded by NPC Jaden Jorus) Task Force Experience: Veteran, 2XP Nova-class Battle Cruiser Our Velvet Ire |9/9| Sith-Imperial Command Commanded by Nyrys Argent Scythe (Railgun Destroyer) Fair Lady of Iziz: 20/20 Veil of Shadows (Light Defensive Escort) Jendra’s Song: 3/3 Atani’s Vigil: 3/3 The Lucky Pair: 3/3 Xuri’s Resolve: 3/3 Alpha: 2/1 Beta: 2/1 Gamma: 2/1 Omicron: 2/1 In Reserve Abyss Triumphant (Interdiction Cadre) Bewitching Lover (Interdictor): 9/9 Lovelorn Wraith: 3/3 Lust: 2/1 Envy: 2/1 Desire: 2/1 Betrayal: 2/1
  8. Leena Kil


    Leena smiled at Sandy, “Thank you Master Sarna. You are right. Of course you are. I am still a Jedi, regardless of what has happened or would have been. If this world needs healing and hope; then I am here for them. I hope my skills will be of more use and less explosive this time.” The ship shuddered as it broke atmosphere and descended towards the watery world below. Standing, Leena went over to the viewport, a gasp escaping her as she smiled. “It is very beautiful. Much like Mon Cal, only . . . different. The dark presences just do not permeate like they did back on the world I cane from. Someday, I would like to return there, when I am better prepared for the evils that lurk there, and make things right.” Leena steeled herself, turning her attention towards the future and the world that loomed ahead of them outside. As the ship settled, Leena quickly sat to remove her white plastoid boots and rush out to the warm sands outside. Her toes crunching it between them as she paused, letting the tides wash over her feet. A sense of happiness enveloped her. She was where she needed to be and in spite of what had happened, the force was with her. Reaching out, the girl let her worries and cares be swept out with the tides. Each lapping wave carrying with it the warmth of the glow of the force’s comfort and guidance; a warmth she let wash over her soul. Whatever was here, this was where she belonged.
  9. With the absence of the Justice's Mandate, a portion of the skies over Serenno no longer held orbital support for the Jedi bombers in that area. Those squads were alerted by the rest of the fleet of their new situation and began preparing for attacks from above as soon as the Sith fighters were able to pinpoint their locations and deploy. Flight leaders had the ultimate call whether it was safe or not to hit their targets, or if they needed to abort and began evasive maneuvers. Those bombers that were still under the protective screens and eyes of the rest of the scattered Jedi fleet continued their bombing runs, though with some squadrons of fighters moving to screen against the inevitable incoming Sith squadrons. That the planetary defenses hadn't launched was good fortune for the Jedi, but it also made them wary since they could still launch. They needed to hit hard and fast then move on as soon as their ten minute warning had passed. The slower bombers with their EMP weapons were not under the constriction of time, so they were able to drop their load and head back to space as soon as they reached their targets. Some bombers were intercepted early by the ever expanding swarms of Sith squadrons and took heavy losses, but there were still some that hit their targets causing chain reactions along the power grid. Power grids were hit and certain cities went dark. For the fighters and heavy bombers going to the factories, they spent most of their ten minute warning time going to the target, but that didn't stop some of them from having time to buzz the area first. To their dismay, they didn't see a stream of evacuating workers and it became clear that the civil authorities or the factory owners didn't take their threats seriously. Some pilots were more than hesitant to drop their payloads and asked for confirmation from their commanding officers as to what to do. The general in charge of the fighter wings knew that there would be civilian casualties, but they had planned for this possibility. If the Jedi held off their attacks, then their word would never be taken seriously again. The Jedi had warned their targets and given them time to take cover, and it was not their fault their enemy ignored that. This was war, and war was full of dead and dying. If the Jedi didn't strike now, then in the future, even greater numbers of people would die when they did strike, all because their threats couldn't be taken seriously. At the ten minute mark, those fighters that were not being harassed by Sith forces unloaded their bombs or missiles on the designated factories. Explosion after explosion ripped through them, killing worker after worker, but also shredding the production lines, storage tanks, store houses, and military tech labs that had been fueling the Sith war machine. The Jedi pilots didn't relish their duty, but they knew it had to be done so they did their job and kept the word of their commander. Perhaps next time, their next targets would take the Jedi seriously and evacuate their workers, but the Jedi could not control what the enemy did. * * * * * There was some ineffectual AA fire from the Sith landing craft that jostled the three Jedi assault shuttles, but their shields held. The Jedi assault team landed outside the perimeter that the Sith troopers were setting up around the bank and began pouring out with intense cover fire as they took to the streets. Two of the flanking shuttles worth formed a defensive flank, laying down blaster fire and grenades against the Sith troopers while the thirty men in the center shuttle charged. Adenna, with her orange lightsaber and blue dyed medium body armor was at the front of that charge, deflecting away shots with her lightsaber in one hand and firing a heavy sidearm with the other. As soon as the shuttle touched down, all of the doubts in Adenna's mind evaporated and she focused entirely on the task at hand. It had been too long since she had been in combat like this, but she missed it. Gone were the weeks of sitting behind a desk or working in training simulators with recruits. Gone was the need to be political or think about the bigger picture. All that was before her now was an enemy, a mission, and lots of determination. She and her thirty men charged in, weaving around haphazardly parked speeders and debris from buildings that were kicked off by stray blaster bolts in this rapidly developing battlefield. What civilians were there had already scrambled away with the arrival of the Sith troopers, so at least they weren't too much of a factor. As she charged forward, Adenna drew upon the Force to prepare her for the inevitable clash where she got in close enough to the enemy lines to unleash chaos the likes of which only a Jedi in her prime could deal.
  10. T’ali’au hated space travel. She had withheld judgement the first trip, on account of it being her only time in space, but now she was certain of it. The constant coldness of the void played havoc with the natural rhythms of her body, leaving her feeling exhausted and lethargic. It certainly did not help that the events of Dac weighed heavily on her mind. The Jedi there had seemed resigned to defeat, burdened by a despair so heavy that they would rather give up than continue to carry it. The priestess was by no means delusional, she knew that the current did not always go where one wanted, but she still believed that evil could be challenged, that lives could be protected. She hadn’t given up on hope. There was something inside of her, an intuition, a mad musing from the ether, that even though the poison had triumphed at Dac things were not entirely lost. A sourceless yet reassuring comfort. Her thoughts were interrupted by the captain buzzing in over the ship comms, informing her that they had arrived at Scarif and were on descent. The ship buckled and shook as it entered atmo, but otherwise remained intact as it approached. Familiar presences danced along the periphery of T’ali’au’s senses, not just the familiar swirls and eddies of the people of her village, but lights that brought renewed optimism for tomorrow. As the ship approached her village, she saw another already adjacent to it, miraculously not on fire or otherwise destroyed. The Jedi had a reputation among her people for their… questionable piloting skills, having littered the island with the wrecks of their personal craft in the past. Once the ship landed and the ramp extended, T’ali’au froliced out onto the dearly missed beach sands and welcomed the warmth of the sun like an infusion of much needed energy. Like waves upon the shore, yesterday’s path was washed away and with it the pain and sorrow.
  11. Last week
  12. Night had fallen across Nar Shaddaa, and thousands of beings had departed for the next campaign against the Sith. Vos lay atop a roof on the outskirts of the complex. The covering across his eyes was removed and he could see the stars through the light pollution. He had watched the fleets depart, wishing he was on one of the ships belonging to one. Within his mind he played out several combat scenarios. His favorite was where he and the Dark Lord killed one another- and he could relax. That was the only future that he could see to be honest. There was no happy ending for him, no child with Adenna, no place for him anywhere. No Dahar, Kirlocca, Sarah and his two other friends- Sandy and Frond were lost to him. Sure, the former was here- but something happened to him on Gala. He had exorcised the place. A jedis life was about sacrifice, and he had sacrificed quite a bit. Something had to give out soon. The brands on his skin were still something to get used to, the new way he was interfacing with the Force was raw. He was a conduit for the Force, and channel it he would. While he didn’t want to think about the differences between himself and the rest of the Jedi Order his mind still lingered on the philosophical challenges he still faces. He sighed and looked down to his Jedi robes. They felt comfortable on his skin, he no longer had the allergic skin reaction he once had. And for the first time since Dahar names him a Jedi Master, he had called himself such. Then he was actually able to wear the blasted robes. He scoffed and rolled his eyes at the whole affair. He felt the call of the stars again. Also, the call of sleep, and he passed out right on the roof. ~~~ In the morning he decided to wander the city, since he was so close to the border that divided the military complex from the civilian section, he might as well… It wasn’t like he had anywhere else to be today. Where the day would take him was left up in the wind. Several thoughts tried to infect his mind. From the direction of his life, or actually just his existence. Mind wandering, he found himself in a civilian bazaar. Walking through the booths he wove his way through the dozens of beings. That was until he was bumped from behind by a little girl running from...someone. Whether or not she warranted such a pursuit was beyond him. His right leg jutted forward and his cane whipped up- but he maintained his balance through the use of the Force. Several people turned to see the commotion going on: A crippled, blind Jedi Master falling backwards as a girl no older than an early teen sprawled on the ground. His limbs pinwheeling- he froze himself in the air, bringing his balance back under his control- and his foot came back down and he shifted to face behind him- where the girl had run from. A human male flew forward as Vos used the Force to pull him forward. Just as the boy came within his grasp, the girl tried to run. Vos tugged her ankle down so she remained on the ground. The boys jacket came within grasping distance and Tobias swept his legs out from him- and brought the boy hard to the ground in front of the girl. “Why are you chasing this girl?” Vos growled as he held the boy down with the same fist that caught him. Vos knew perfectly well- it was all there in the auras flowing around the youths spoke volumes to him. He just wanted to see if the boy would lie to him. Sadly, the boy did. Tobias sighed and whispered something to the boy and his whole demeanor changed. Looking as if he accidentally stepped on a pets tail- and he wasn’t an evil person, the boy when white as a sheet and then slowly nodded his head. Letting him get up, the boy walked off in a seemingly random direction and the crowded bazaar started to turn their attention back to their business. Standing, he offered his hand to the girl- “You alright there?” He asked, helping her up. He knew her face was showing how shocked she was that this all had just transpired- and that a blind man had helped her to her feet. As the young girl- a Zabrak female- steadied herself on her own feet, Tobias smiled and dusted off her shoulder. “Yes, then?” She chuckled- and responded to him. “Yes, Master Jedi. Sorry, Master Jedi. I didn’t mean to bump into you, I’m sorry.” “Quite alright, my dear. You won’t need to run from guys playing back-alley dice- when they think you cheat.” Her jaw dropped and she tried to speak- she stammered. He chuckled. “Can I let you in on a little secret?” He asked. “I’ve cheated in dice before, well, I used my abilities to influence the outcome of the game but there were never any signs or regulations restricting Force powers at the tables… so is that cheating? Anyways- don’t do it if you cannot deal with the consequences.” The girl chuckled again, flabbergasted. “When you get back into base, come see me- I’ll show you a few tricks other than reading minds and pushing dice. That is, if you don’t get into any more trouble.” Flashing a grin, he left the incognito Jedi youngling behind at the bazaar. For the rest of the day he shopped for two small gems, a leather working kit, and then welding goggles- that last one got him some weird looks as he was already blind. The next day he awoke to the usual- checking his datapad first he looked up the security report- nothing of a Zabrak apprentice sneaking out or back in. Pim had presented herself to him early the next morning- and her training had begun. She had been with the Jedi since she was five years old. Her favorite class was telekinesis. Her clan was on rotation to come and work in support roles at the Rebel HQ, she had been sneaking out for about five weeks and had won over seven hundred credits from her spare change of fifteen credits. The boy was tired of losing to her and he had enough because she made a rude joke. After she told it to him, he couldn’t help but laugh and then chide her for her linguistic choices. More and more he taught her different ways to work with the Force and then he asked her if she wanted to formally become his padawan. She agreed; That had been two weeks ago. Now that she said goodbye to her friends within the clan, they had spent three days working all day at some of her skills and her Force stamina. Finally, he felt she would benefit from leaving the planet- and so they did. Tobias was happy to have the Prism back, and the droids- even though they didn’t talk of the mission after Tobias stayed back in the medbay. They had lifted off and he was just reconfirming the destination with the droids as he walked back to the common room as they shot to hyperspace.
  13. As the Imperial Knight walked, the forest’s damp odor began to take on sweeter tones, floral and rich. The humidity caused sweat to bead upon her pale skin, drawing insects to swarm about her in a thick haze. The forest loam beneath her boots became more sticky, black mud clinging to every footfall. The fallen trees about her carried fungal growths upon their bark, overcome like lepers by their sores, driven to destruction by the entropy of nature. When from this land I go, what will become of me? Her proboscis flicked at the air, writhing from her between her lips, filling her mind with the taste of rot and broken earth. The song that passed from her was of her own sorrow, for her future and the fate of all Sin Eaters. A fallen creature caught her eye, its matted fur half-submerged in the dark mud, surrounded by carrion. The rich scent was coming from its rent flesh, nauseating, yet enticing to the Jedi’s appetite. A part of her mind spoke into her, reaching out for acknowledgement. It would be delicious, and she was starving. Kyrie’s eyes narrowed as she halted her footsteps towards the rotting creature, willing herself to focus. She threw her starvation into her flame, burning away as much of the feeling as she could manage. She stared at the Kath Hound, willing herself to see. Its flesh was moving. Still alive? Another step, No, the carrion had started their work. The fur was moving from the wriggling of maggots beneath. Lidless eyes were swarmed by flies. The mud was strewn with unraveled viscera. The Force began to scream about her, the reflection of her song was that of warning. There was a deeper hunger here, and it streamed from a nearby being. The Exorcist wheeled her stance into the Hellepartan variation of Vom Tag, angling the staff of her lightsaber towards the mud at her feet, her grip on the cortosis-touched briarwood loose and wide. Her right hand touched the weighted pommel, caressing the beskar that had been inlaid into the dark wood. She extended out her locus of control, touching the world about her with fire. Strange words streamed from the figure as it stepped through the mud, the dwindling light obscuring her full vision. It was of the basic tongue but spoken swiftly and in the bubbly form of a preteen. The little she understood spoke of hunger. The darkness that streamed through The Song made the origins of this figure unmistakable. Sith. A wrapped protein bar flew from the Sith’s hand, an offering, for the creature must have sensed The Jedi’s hunger. Kyrie cast out a net within the force, capturing the offering within it. The words of the Exorcist came stumbling from an unstable tongue, filled with a reserved malice. “Tenet insanabile multos peredo cacoethes…” (The incurable desire to consume affects us all...) The probisci flicked a challenge, and the protein bar was consumed in bright white fire. The Exorcist began to pour her own emotions into her inner fire, building up her flame for battle. Fire wreathed her exposed flesh, imbuing into the handle of the lightsaber, causing a faint glow in the twilight. The song became mournful once more, Eternal happiness far away, must my portion be...
  14. “We lost a good Jedi Knight on Mon Calamari.” Her voice was soft. “And for what reason? If you were a better fighter there Leena would you have been able to fight against the hordes of stormtroopers? Could you have saved Mjan? I think not. You would have died with the rest. Part of our training is to know when not to engage. Mon Calamari will be retaken, I think, though it may be years until the sunlit seas see the light of a democracy.” Though she was not sure that the idea of Democracy carried anything good other than a false sense of security. “We must not concentrate on what might have been Leena.” She frowned and did her best to look into both of the girl’s eyes. “There is a place for you here in the order and you do not need to be a good soldier to stay. Do away with that idea, train to fight so that if you should need to defend and take a life that you can. But do not think that the only place for a Jedi is the front lines.” She waved towards the viewport where the lines of stars were materializing into a solid sphere of an archipelago world. The large expanse of shallow ocean dotted with sandy beaches and a large crater that seemed to mark the world with a giant ring of mountainous terrain, surrounding a deep pool of dark water. “There is place enough in this galaxy for a healer and medic. This world will show you why.” And they had arrived at last to the small world, whose orbit still carried some debris from an ancient battle. Sandy inputted coordinates for where she was sure that the Village of Tali still existed.
  15. A ragged cheer came from the command decks of the Victory Star Destroyers, and while they did not score any heavy hits On the larger Mon Calamari Warship, it still felt like a victory. The skies were now open for a counter attack for the Sith on the distant starfighters and bombers that had been left behind. Space Superiority was now cleanly in the hands of the Sith Empire. In the skies of Serenno it would be easy to pick off the Rebel Bomber groups one by one. With full and utter control of the skies, the Imperial Fightergroups conducted a classic turkeyshoot of the stranded rebel fighters and bombers. And while some of them might achieve escape velocity in the heavy atmosphere while dodging missiles and diving TIEs, then break through the cordon of Sith starships and escape, it would likely be very few. With control of the Serenno skies surrendered to the Sith, the Sith fleet began to regroup for the next rebel attack. A few squadrons stayed behind to identify EV pilots and assist in pilot recovery for the abandoned Rebel pilots. There would likely be no interrogation, they had fought well, if futility. Such seemed the luck of the erstwhile Rebel Alliance. When the majority of the Sith Starfighters had reformed, they alongside the fleet, began to accelerate towards the side of the planet where they had left their Imperial Marines. It would take a half hour or so to reach the capital cities’ side of the planet, but that gave them enough time to conduct refueling operations on the starfighters. From the mouthlike hangerbays on the bottom of the star destroyers came a stream of Sith Assault Shuttles. Glittering in the setting sun’s rays like a field of dew sodden grass. ____________________________ “An explosion sir.” Came the voice of the helmeted pilot, crackling through the assault shuttle’s intercom system. Spurring Delta to lean over his seat to look through the forward canopy screen, where the billowing cloud of smoke could just be seen over the rooftops of the city. Backlit by a flashing fireball that dissipated nearly as quickly. Delta grinned and slapped the man’s shoulder pauldron. “Set us down behind that lane of small buildings a block southeast.” “Copy sir.” He turned back to his command team and nodded firmly. They returned his grin and placed the T-visored helmets upon their heads. Delta strode back to his crashwebbing and sat down next to Lieutenant Haylee Langraf. She gave him a side eye and resumed loading and checking her old style E-11. While they had not been issued the weapons Delta believed they should have been in regards to fighting Jedi Knights, Delta’s confidence was still high. The logistics officer’s grim reply upon the Hellkite to the request for slugthrowers and sonics had been a quick ‘Kriff No’. Not only did the Hellkite not carry such outdated equipment, any that could be rustled up from belowdecks were of uneven calibre and not battle ready. This had been concerning for the team, but they all knew that a blaster, when properly aimed and used was just as effective against a Jedi Knight as a sonic rifle. The Emperor expected them to do their duty, and they were the best that could be found for this particular duty. Their commander had killed plenty of Jedi Knights in his day, and many of them had been there only a week before when the red faced jedi had eaten a handful of bayonets and flechettes. Their confidence was high. Delta ran his gloved hand down the word stock of the E-22 blaster rifle, and checked the readout in the stock for gas pressure and the ammunition amount left in the energy magazine that he had just slapped into the blaster’s receiver. Both readouts read ‘FULL’ but he still triple checked them, and the microreadouts on the magazines that were stored on his belt. He opened the double breach of the underslung launcher that was fastened to the bottom of the rifle and slipped in two green tipped concussive shock grenades. 42 mm. With a myriad of others on his belt. He took in his squad of men with a single glance and then stood with them as the shuttle settled onto its landing struts. “Langraf, you take the south streets with Alpha Team. Frostwin, North streets with Beta team, Sergeant Trefey, take Delta to the West. Hensi and Echo fall in with me.” Each commanding officer and their ten men would begin to form a cordon with whatever responding men the local authorities were bringing. Delta and his men would take the cordon closest to the Bank. And with them he set off at a run. His SCI scracled to life, a double beep indicating that the incoming transmission was from the command element on the Hellkite. “Darkhand actual, Command.” “Go for Darkhand.” Delta’s voice was terse with the sprint. “Notice incoming enemy EI. Three shuttle’s ETA unknown. BLUFOR reinforcements ETA one five minutes.” “Copy.” Everything always went to Corellia’s seven hells whenever they went boots on ground, or at least that seemed to be his personal destiny. The dark walls of the Bank loomed out of the dusk and Delta fel to a knee behind the engine block of a parked landspeeder, the distant flashing of emergency response vehicles coming closer as his men began to set up. If these were regular colonial police, then their presence was going to be useless. But even useless could be turned into an effective meatsheild. ________________________ Inside the vault, a lone red lightsabre sprang to life, its blade impossibly thin and held by a darkheaded man in his early forties. A lightfoil, an old and elegant design, perfected by duelists in the Tapani sector hundreds of years prior. The man fell into the easy and relaxed dueling form and smiled a grim smile as a dozen blaster rifles behind him pointed up at the Jedi. “Woe, destruction, ruin, and decay; The worst is death, and death will have his day!” It was a sonnet he had learned in his youth, and though it was melodramatic, it seemed to fit. But his grin of theatrical triumph was lost as the blaster rifles fired with a thunderous applause
  16. Solus


    As the time ticked on by, with each minute, Solus grew more and more nervous. How much time had passed? Minutes? Hours? Days even? Did Solus choose wrong in trusting Darth Helios? Did Helios abandon them? “Oh what torture for us!” Solus suddenly exclaimed loudly, making Tear jerk up in surprise. “We must have displeased Darth Helios by not heeding his words, and as such he refuses to teach us any more! Such sadness for us, for all he showed us was this place.” For a few moments Solus began to wallow in despair, coiling again near the hound and sinking to the floor. But as quickly as he started to cry, it changed to laughter. “Ah ha ha! No no no, that’s not bad, that is good! For if he does not hold his deal up, then I am not bound to my oath to him! Yes!” Solus body shot upwards, pumping its arms once in triumph. “Yes yes! This is good, is it not? Oh how i will miss the chance to study under his wisdom, but Lady Sirena has offered her help, has she not? Yes, this will work. Oh. Oh! I am sorry Master Roshan, Sir Aliss, for not being able to go with my original plan, but it seems we are bound together longer now. Come! Let us find the Valley of the Sith Lords! Haha!” With that, Solus began to lead the way. Out of the room, up the set of stairs, the shard led the group, carrying Tear over his shoulders again. He dared not leave him alone. Once at the shrine above, Solus stopped and glanced around, as if someone else might have been there. Comforted that no one was, Solus led the way further outside, into the alleys and into the streets. “Oh what a glorious day. Our first day to acquire power! Haha!” Solus boasted as he slithered forward, not aware if Aliss and Roshan were close behind. He was just eager to find the Valley fo the Sith Lords. Solus only paused once when he reached the marketplace. People were there again, though less so. It was still early morning, and everyone had their places to be besides the market. Still, the musicians were there, each playing their own song to drown out the noises of travel. The notes were long and droning. Each musician dragged his music out as long as possible, indicating the time of day. Solus stopped when he heard the sounds. The music of a nearby bug-eyed rodian, while not beautiful, still caught his attention all the same. The snake-like tail of his began to shiver and coil randomly, and his upper torso began to sway. Solus was enjoying himself, unaware of how many people were looking at him and his precious pet on his shoulders. “Ah...such...majesty. Hmmm...Lord Roshan...Sir Aliss, it just occurred to me, how are we to find the Valley of the Sith Lords? Truth be told, I was just following the path we took yesterday under the guidance of Helios, but now...I'm unsure where to go"
  17. Zalis Krales


    Zalis stood for a moment watching guests enjoy the evening activities provided, as many were done with dinning and began shopping the stores onboard. Others had come to a point of heading out to dinner for their selected time in the main dining hall. Many of the guests walked through the main hall and would take up a glance at Zalis as they walked by. It was of course, no surprise as she was wearing a white dress with a silver and sequin outer layer. The color matched her slightly pale skin, but made her red hair pop and standout like a fire burning bright amongst the snow. Next to her stood Akor’ketez, her faithful assistant of many years now. He let out a loud breath of sorts before leaning in. "Ma'am, things have been going very well here based upon your own projections. Many companies and royal families have pledged funds to help maintain the cost of this liner to stay up and running for five years now. And the latest reports are that Remo has been doing exactly as you thought he would do, providing a steady movement on the forefront. So with all of that in mind... may I ask why you hold here?" The question burned within her, but not an angry burn. She herself had wondered why she allowed herself to become so inactive. She let go of the railing that she only just realized she was gripping with tightly clenched fists and turned to walk back towards the main turbo lift, allowing for her red hair to flow freely as she moved. "Perhaps my own ideals were too strong. Maybe I felt as if though I was better off alone and untouched..." She let the last part hang as one of the receptionist for the spa walked out and inquired about a shipment they haven't received. She only waved the girl off and she kept walking by. After they were out of hearing range, she continued. "I may need to venture off this cruise liner and stir up some contacts. Prepare Nimbus for me." She pushed the main call button on the turbolift and then turned around to face Akor’ketez again. "Watch the Banking Clan rep... He's creepy. Feed him some fo the fish we haven't sent back after the Mon Cal incident. I'll return by the time King Utherza takes his vacation with us." The turbolift door opened upon her finishing and Zalis quickly walked in. As the door was shutting, she gave Akor’ketez a wink as it closed on him to handle the rest of the arrangements.
  18. The Sable Blade, a Sith shuttle from the Fair Lady of Iziz, finished it’s microjump from the orbit of New Centerpoint to Corellia, and began its descent to the world’s surface. The planet was slowly choking itself under the mantle of industry, a fate shared by many worlds that were entangled in the webs of the intergalactic military industrial complex. Kuat had the foresight to build their production facilities in orbit, but many other worlds had sacrificed their own viability in exchange for the vast amounts of credits that the business offered. The grime and oil covered most of the populace like an unctuous outer layer, as if to subsume them into the machines that they serviced. Many had resigned themselves to their fates as part of the colossal contraptions that served the shipyards, but others fought against the crushing of their spirits. Ironically it was the shackles of industry that most likely fueled the populace’s obsession with ships and piloting, ships were freedom, the chance at a life unbound to the gears and the ceaseless grind. Those that could fly, fix, or con well enough were able to escape the planet’s clutches, to break their chains. It was a perfect example of the Sith code at work, the ordinary becoming fodder for the great, while the truly talented rose to live a life of their own. Such people were always interesting, and Nyrys looked forward to meeting them once Corellia was liberated from the Alliance’s yoke of mediocrity. The shuttle landed, and the Sith warrior disembarked alone. She had Gwn Marwolaeth sheathed to her back, and Gwell Na Rhyw thrummed excitedly in its sheathe on her hip. The two blades could be considered to represent the twin driving forces within Nyrys, the sword being her dedication to the warrior path, her discipline in training, and self improvement, and the machete embodied her passionate side, her embrace of the visceral world, and the acceptance of her own desires. She was drawn to a rare jewel in Coronet City’s cityscape, the botanical and zoological gardens. There was the sense of confinement and hunger in the air, an iron bulwark sealing away a savage hunger that was bordering on starvation. Oh and there were animals there too. But as cute and boopable as the durni were, Nyrys’s focus was narrowing in on the the pangs she felt of an emaciated beast that conjured the image of an axe, a sharpened edge empowered by raw force. The park was closed, with the sun on the verge of setting or rising, Nyrys didn’t know and it looked like it could go either way. She stopped at an unattended snack cart, and after perusing the options she grabbed a few bars, leaving some credits on the cart’s surface. The Sith Lady pressed onward into the botanical section, finding herself amidst a grove of trees. In spite of the constructed nature of the park, this place resonated with natural songs, and Nyrys wanted to run, and pounce, and hunt. The Jedi liked to claim that they had a monopoly on the natural world, but in truth the Sith could be equally at home amidst the wilds, although it stirred a different part of the psyche in them. She spotted the one that she was looking for, a sleight woman with ebon locks and violet eyes. At first glance she looked human, but decidedly inhuman tendrils were protruding from her mouth. Nyrys’s unnatural eyes saw within her a coiling hunger, held within a steel ribcage that glowed whitehot with focus and rage. In another life the woman would have made a fine Sith warrior. She took out one of the snack bars and tossed it in the woman’s general direction. “For the love of all the stars and planets in the sky, we can go grab a meal before we do this, but at the very least, eat the motherpfasking Crunchamunch bar. I could literally sense your hunger from low orbit. Like I can ZapaMap us a nearby diner or something and we can get you some food, my treat. Are they not feeding you guys, or is this like a body image issue thing, because sweetie, you don’t have to kill yourself for some impossible male standard, you look great.”
  19. Production Information Model: SD-A4 Creators: Mon Calamari Manufacturer : Fluid Securities Place of Manufacture: Mon Cal Class: Security Drone Cost: 2,600 Credits Technical specifications Height: 0.4 meters (1’3”) Sensor color: Blue Armament: Turret-mounted stun blaster Equipment: Repulsorlift engines Propellers Infrared-Sensor Capable of chasing and neutralizing targets in the air and underwater, the SD-A4, aka the Water Beetle, was extremely popular amongst security forces and private businesses for multiple underwater species. Developed by a security firm on Mon Cal, the SD-A4 was meant to be a way to scout out points of potential break-ins, support backup to firefights, and to pursue criminals. The main drawback of the SD-A4 was that it was unable to think for itself and followed rigid programming. When left to its own devices, it would constantly repeat the same command over and over, to the point where it might shoot anyone who didn’t comply with its specifications. To combat this, Fluid Securities always recommended customers to pair the drone with a living partner who could direct the drone.
  20. Hyperion


    "It's important for us to be prepared for when your enemies arrive," "What type of forces are arrayed against us? What would give us the tactical advantage?" She was correct, preparation was tantamount to whatever insecurities laid at the feet of the freelancers, and the crew huffed at the realization. Hyperion ignored their irrationality, barely catching the end of the question that Aziza had silenced the others with. His attention was primal now, extrapolating what kind of vermin his rivals would approach with now. "This ship is a bedrock against the disastrous climate, for now. Positioning mostly," With the systems overheated and burnt into submission, an ugly wave of warmth began to creep through the malfunctioning vessel. The skin-tearing sandstorm waged war just outside of their metal cage, and the wolves of past adversaries skulked between the shadows. "At best, they're freelancers hired by Ektei, one of those Massassi shams that cropped up with Darth Akheron awhile back. Worse case, they are the abominations of those Massassi; the hungriest and most fearsome of hunters sent to sweep us from the face of Korriban." The primary lighting system within their perishing means of transport suddenly drew completely dark, now only highlighting small traces of light by way of a small generator. Visibility dampened significantly, casting them as mere shadows against the dark metal around them. The hostile winds outside ate at the hard alloy, rocking the ship back and forth and battering the permanence that held it together in one piece. Abruptly, a knocking sound echoed from the rear of the ship, almost like a hammering as it did not stop. Drilling? The sound of metal punching into metal hummed through the corridors as well, but it felt as if the sound came from elsewhere now, perhaps it was nearest to the cockpit. Hyperion could barely see her features now with an unaided eye, but he withdrew a short blade from a scabbard aligned with his spine, and placed the smaller Sith steel into her hand. "Ten sentient creatures, Aziza. And they are here for blood. Close your eyes, allow your instincts to become feral. Can you see them?"
  21. To Captain Gustav's surprise, it didn't seem that the local Serenno garrison was taking their threat seriously and deploying their defenses. That was more than a little bit insulting since it showed that the Sith supporting planet simply didn't consider the Jedi Order as a threat, or perhaps they didn't even think that the Jedi would actually carry out their word. He was relieved that they weren't scrambling their fighters to oppose the Jedi bombers and fighter squadrons, but that didn't mean the Sith weren't trying to get into the game. Their fighters might be a bit behind due to needing to make their microjumps and then deploy and get down to the scattered squads on the planet. Jedi fighters would need to attack their targets then come up to meet the Sith forces to give their bombers a bit of cover while they scrambled out. As soon as the Sith fleet reverted from hyperspace on top of his flagship, he began ordering a microjump of his own. The plan wasn't to get into a potentially costly space battle, but to wreck damage on the planet and get out. The Justice's Mandate angled as it exchanged some salvos against the Sith fleet for a few seconds, then flashed away into hyperspace. Three seconds after jumping, they returned to realspace and began positioning to return back to Serenno when the opportunity arose. * * * * * When the Sith fleet made their micro-jumps away from the airspace over Serenno's capital, Carannia, the StealthX scout quickly noted it and sent word to the waiting assault shuttles. Adenna smiled slightly and strapped herself into one of the crash seats as the shuttles made the micro-jump into Serenno's airspace. Three shuttles reverted into realspace above Carannia and began an immediate landing approach to offer support to the team that was down on the surface. Adenna clutched the harness holding her in as the shuttle rocked and shook around her with the rapid descent. It wouldn't be long before she, long with the rest of the ninety Jedi troopers that were part of the relief force, would touch down and chaos would likely ensue.
  22. “Do you truly think you can understand the depths of The Force through an adherence to codes?” “We all achieve definition in conflict, it is there we find ourselves or find ourselves lacking.” Shiro could hear her words echoing through his mind over the sounds of the storm as it raged on. He had thought the mantra of the Sith would quell the storm within him, quiet his mind so he could find focus, but now he saw that it only aided his focus in its brief quotation. It was her words that truly struck a nerve that he had yet to ponder. "Conflict?" His mind thought across its entirety as he pondered the meaning. Conflict was all that he knew. It was the very thing that forged him. But would it continue to forge him farther? He wasn't quite certain. Forged of blood, guilt, and war, his wrath had became his power. But this darkness within him, this power granted by gift and by touch, wasn't born of it like he was. Was this truly the problem he had been facing this entire time? His gaze shifted toward the man who fought against his Master's will, the entire conflict tantalizing as it was fruitless in the man's endeavor. He was but an instrument in the overall lesson Shiro was meant to learn, even as his will fell before her own and all that was left was a husk with the only desire left being that of death. Standing there, pelted by sand and debris, Shiro's mind opened wide. He had been too accepting of this gift, letting it's draw hypnotize him with its power rather than bending it to his own. It was a powerful ally, this Force, but without guidance, it was uncontrollable and unpredictable. He was letting its instincts control him, rather than honing it and controlling it to fit his needs. He could see it now, even as the moments of its uses flooded his mind. And in that moment, his wrath turned inward at himself. "Pathetic". His thoughts echoed. “Now, strengthen your flesh and fight the wind. Let us see what echoes your conflict produce.” Shiro struggled internally, his form becoming feverish as he sought for control. Sand cut against his form, leaving rash and abrasions against his uncovered skin as debris pelted his form with slivers and gashes, tearing even through cloth as the storm bore down its hardest. He would control this power. It would bend to his will and be his domain. He had already decided it. But as he fought, so did the darkness within, his bronze skin growing red with its feverish heat. Falling to his knees as washed ashore limbs flew across his form, leaving bruises, he continued the conflict within, bellowing in anger as his wrath grew intense. It was time he was the Master of it, not it the Master of he. It was time for the shackles to break. He would be the dominant power. Or he would fall in trying.
  23. Kashi switched to the rear as they reached the internal servers, allowing Dengo as much room as he needed to do his job, eyeing carefully his surroundings. As much as he would like to have thought he hadn't made a mistake, the more they had traversed, the more he knew better, not a single guard nor any opposition in sight. And the air, it didn't feel right, the Force swirling around them thick with malicious intent. Even the card he had swiped still worked. "We're in." Dengo voiced as he sliced away, his eyes focused across the numerical formats scrolling across the screens, an unease in his voice. "Either the Imperials are lazy at their job...." Just as Dengo managed to get the words out of his mouth, Kashi had to steady himself against the rocking of the floor beneath him, the structure rattling with the explosion at the Vaults. If one was to look at Kashi, they could see the unease in his own eyes, not just due to an act of thievery, but also at the fact that despite his mishap, everything was seeming to go off without a hitch. It felt almost as if it was too inviting. "Let us hope...." Kashi spoke into the room, still standing at the door with two of the three guards as Aidan came into view. Cracking a forced smile, he yelled. "We're just about done here. If they didn't know we were here, surely that explosion did."
  24. Identity Real Name: Serenity Vowler A.K.A: Serena or Sena Homeworld: Ryloth Species: Human Physical Description Age: 17 Height: 5'7 Weight: 107 lbs. Hair: Auburn Eyes: Hazel Sex: Female Equipment Clothing or Armor: She wears a white tank top with a red cardigan over it, along with ripped jeans, that are so worn out, you can see through the patches on them. Weapon: Blaster Common Inventory: A watch around her wrist is kept for safekeeping, since Serena gets frustrated when she can't tell time. And a pocket knife to protect herself from any enemies, since she is force sensitive. Faction Information Force User, Force Sensitive or Non-Force User: Force Sensitive Alignmentse: Light Current Faction Affiliation: Jedi Current Faction Rank: Hopeful History Force Side: N/A Trained by: N/A Trained who: N/A Known Skills: N/A Background: Serena Vowler is a 17 year-old girl, who was born on Ryloth, but she goes to Corellia from time to time, working part time at Cantinas. Ship Registration Name: Whitecloak Fighter Class: Starfighter Model: Modified Cloakshape fighter Manufacturer: Kuat Systems Engineering Length: 15 meters Armaments: Light laser cannons (2) Concussion missile launchers (2) Armor: 8 missiles each Anti-Personnel Defenses: Laser Cannons (Offensive) Electromagnetic Null Ray (Defensive) Modifications: They are originally named after Cloakshape Fighters. Appearance:
  25. Genesis


    I acknowledged my Master's words as she spoke, the nervous pit in my stomach on the verge of regurgitation. Still, I calmed himself, letting the Force flow through me and around me, allowing its flow cascade it's natural intent become my serenity. With a breath of exhalation, I followed Armiena and Ryu to the cockpit. The time had come. It was now or never. All I could do was look on as the ships came into view. War had arrived at Corellia.
  26. As Sun-Dragon left, Bones could clench his hands into fists for a few moments. His anger, while seething, was dying quickly. There was nothing more he could do except do as ordered. Still, he didn’t like this. It was like some kind of prison cell. Just better accommodations. Bones sighed and took a step in one direction, and then promptly realized he had no idea where to go. Where did the Lumas trees get harvested? Where did any of the plants get harvested? Was the ship self-sustainable or did the plants grow somewhere on the planet they resided on? Bones didn’t know which to believe. He never heard of a self-sustaining ship, but Artus Prime wasn’t exactly a nature preserve either. It took some time and a lot of asking strangers, but eventually Bones had an idea. Slowly he made his way to the edges of the ship. Originally he asked where the food was grown, and he was told that the botanical domes did most of that, except for what was grown on their original planet of Ithor. Some more questioning led Bones to believe that Lumas trees were native to Ithor and so instead he had to travel to the jungle ecologies on the edges of the ship. A short speeder trip by a local Ithorian dropped Bones off at an entrance to the Atrium. Even before entering, Bones was shocked at what he saw. Large doorway before him showed signs of wear and tear. The durasteel was stained and tarnished, and was now impossible to close as vines and weeds had grown to the point that the heavy doors could no longer move. And the floor was lightly covered with dirt, which only became more thick the further into the Atrium. Bones took a breath of his sulfate before stepping in. Once entered, the other side at first was a narrow hallway. Bright white lights above lit the overgrown path like the sun lighting a forest. Vines with bright green leaves in full bloom stretched across the walls from one doorway to another, as if seeking to find more places to enter. The dirt pathway had small mounds of grass growing in spots where people tended not to walk. Further in surprised Bones more. What was once a conglomerate of hallways meeting together in a large open space with a glass ceiling had become, to put it lightly, a village. Natural light streamed down through the glass onto green and brown vines, lush thick grass, small saplings barely sprouting leaves, and small pots of flowers. Amongst these plants was the dirt pathways, trampled by Ithorians who traveled between here and the rest of the ship. And each of these dirt paths led to houses. Metal walls stained brown stood in these halls. They didn’t connect with the ceiling, but instead had large vines bound together and layered across, with then another dirt layer over it. From this dirt, flowers of every color grew. Bones could only see the vines and how they were bound because they were wrapped around the corners of the houses and pulled downward, like some kind of tent flap. Amongst these paths, patches of grass, and houses, were some Ithroians. A few of the spouses or younglings of those who were working, they were busying themselves with all matter of tasks at hand. Some were tending to the houses, making sure the roofs and the flowers were properly cared for. Others were sitting around small pots with heaters underneath them to cure some kind of medicine or cook up a food. In the distance, Bones could see a small group of Ithorian younglings walking behind an Ithorian adult, reading from a datapad. A teacher and his class no doubt. “Not what you were expecting, no?” Bones jumped at the deep gurgle that came from beside him. He turned and faced a hammerhead slightly smaller then he. His clothes were simple brown robes bound tight against his skin and rounded belly, giving him a wide range of movement while dressed lightly. His smooth and pale green skin had small white lines painted in a criss-crossing style all over his head, with a small patch of black hair growing from where his head met his neck. On his head he wore a wide brim hat, made to block out any light from above. He was the embodiment of some kind of farmer. The Ithorian laughed at Bones' startlement. “Oooh, sorry, very sorry. Our dragon warned us you were coming, and I figured you may get lost so I wanted to escort you personally.” “Um...thanks, I think” Bones held out his hand and shook the Ithorians. It was rough and hardened from years of work. “I’m sorry, but isn’t this the Atrium? I figured it would be more of a...um, atrium I guess. Not...this” The Ithorian nodded understandingly at the Tognath’s confusion. “It wasn’t always like this. Come, our Dragon said you are to help us.” The Ithorian, who introduced himself as Jho, led Bones through the many halls, showing how there were many many more houses everywhere. He explained how the ship originally was a ship designed for transporting plants across the galaxy. However, due to a major incident in the ship’s history (Bones didn’t catch exactly what it was), the Great Atrium became a dwelling place for the Ithorians on board, instead of the upper levels of the ship. The Ithorians onboard preferred a lifestyle living next to the plants they cared for, and because the Jungle ecologies overgrew their enclosures into the Atrium, it became a natural choice for the Ithorians. Thus it was renamed the Overgrown, and became the housing district for the Ithorians. Bones listened closely to it all, while marveling at how such a place could exist on the ship. He felt like he was actually on a planet. If he had woken up here, he would have never believed he was on a star ship that could travel the galaxy. Jho eventually led Bones to the Jungle Ecologies. Where the Atrium was more like a lush grassland with houses, this was truly a jungle. Trees were packed densely into the area, blocking most of the light above. The shade however was not cool at all. Bones instantly noticed the temperature difference, and knew that most humans would begin sweating immediately in the humid air. Bones also immediately was able to identify which trees were Lumas trees. Their rough brown bark twisted around the trunks, with some of the bark growing over itself in places. The limbs stretched outwards, with smaller and smaller branches spreading out like a kind of spider web. These limbs had green lichen-like vines climbing all over them, working their way into the bark and occasionally wrapping themselves along the trunk. On the tips of some of the branches, the vines curled and wrapped up into a ball, and protruding from these balls… “Lumas fruit” Bones recognising the sour filled objects. The trees matched the ugliness of the seed. “So I assume I’ll need to pick those?” Jho nodded, but added “not yet. That comes tonight.” “Tonight? Why not now?” “You will see.” Bones sighed. Eventually the two came into a clearing, where eight Ithorians, both old and young, were working, as well as a pile of mechanical parts, four two legged vehicles, and several large metal containers that made a buzzing sound with the occasional ping of something hitting the inside. Jho introduced them as Bone’s coworkers. Since none of them spoke basic, Jho introduced Bones to the group in his native tongue. Jho then gave Bones his assignment. “It will be night in a few hours, and we need these loaders ready by then. You any good with tools? Then help them with the repairs and tuning. I’ll be back later.” With that, Jho left Bones, now alone in a group of strangers he couldn’t understand. However, Bones was able to make quick work with the loaders. He almost felt like he was back home on Coruscant. His experience with speeder bikes and fixing machines at his repair shop made him a natural at these loaders. While the others, despite not having a common language, had to point out a few things to Bones, he quickly caught on. Within 2 hours, all the machines were fixed and prepared. It seemed that they were ahead of schedule, since Jho hadn’t come back yet and the rest of the Ithorians had sat down talking to each other. Bones paced quietly, anxious to get started. Why were they waiting until tonight to pick the Lumas fruit? It was obvious that the machines would be used to reach the out of reach objects, but why wait until night, when it would be impossible to see the sour-filled objects? These Ithorians were stupid. This entire thing was stupid. Bones fumed slightly as he paced. An Ithorian chuckled at Bones and made a joke, to which the others laughed. Bones noticed and looked down, realizing he had tore up a bunch of grass with his pacing. No doubt the Ithorians were making a joke out of this. “That does it” Bones stomped the ground once. “I’m just going to get those fruits now myself!” With that, Bones went towards the nearest Lumas tree. Using the jagged, rough bark as handholds and footholds, Bones began to climb. The Ithorians stopped talking and watched, curious at what the Tognath was doing. The climb was a solid 28 feet up and the branches, while solid, were narrow. Still, Bones climbed. At the first branch, Bones hoisted and balanced himself. The Ithorians watched intently. With a breath, Bones took a step forward. As he fell downwards, the Tognath remembered his time riding speeder bikes in Coruscant. His sister had beaten into his head about the way to fall during an upcoming crash and forced him to practice it over and over again. Loosen body. Relax. Catch something if you can. Bones did just that. He smacked the ground like a stone and remained still for a bit. The Ithorians gathered around, concerned for the stranger, but quickly began to laugh when Bones picked himself back up. Bones was certainly an entertainment. Bones thanked his two skeletal systems and shoved an Ithorian out of the way. He knew what he did wrong. He slipped. He went too quickly. He would do better. Another climb. And again, another fall. The Ithorians laughed and cheered on Bones as he attempted again. This was funny for them. A skeletal man who didn’t know when to quit, and since he wasn’t feeling as much pain as anyone else, and the falls weren’t damaging, he would keep trying. With each attempt, Bones got better. He was learning how the branches were. And he was learning how to balance better and better. All while the Ithorians watched and cheered and laughed. “What is going on?!?” Jho shouted, running into the area. The others stopped and pointed up. Realizing what was about to be done, Jho facepalmed and observed with the others. Bones, now at a prime spot, reached out and grabbed as many branches as possible and began to shake. With three might shakes, the vines that held the seeds began to snap and fall. Like the rocks they looked like, Lumas fruit fell down onto the ground. Pride made Bones’ chest swell. He had accomplished what he attempted, and now could show everyone his cleverness. With a fall down and a soft landing and rolling into a fall, Bones picked himself up expecting cheering and clapping. Instead, the Ithorians were walking away back to the machines. Jho was shaking his head, his large hat swaying left and right. He wasn’t showing anger, or sadness. Just a smidge of annoyance with his movements, and a hint of amusement at his lips. “Our dragon did say you were rash. Couldn’t wait, eh?” “I just proved you don’t have to wait until nightfall to pick your fruits.” Bones clenched his fits. “And all without your machi-” “Indeed, without the lifters.” Jho sarcastically nodded. “You did that, while risking your body. Its certainly true we couldn’t have used machines during the day. Oh yes, very...eager of you. ” Bones said nothing. He was being talked down to and it was annoying him. “Can you do me a favor? You know how these fruit work, correct?” “Ya..” Bones shrugged, looking at the rock-like fruit around him. “You break them open and the sour stuff comes out." “Do that” Bones looked at Jho, wondering if he was serious. When Jho didn’t answer, Bones had no choice. Grabbing the nearest fruit, he bent down and smashed the fruit on the ground. With a loud crack, the fruit split and spilled its purple and white contents onto the ground. Bones held it out as if to prove a point. Jho shook his head. "Again. Another one." Bones grunted and rolled his eyes. He grabbed the next fruit. Over his head and downwards, Bones smashed the fruit into the ground. It didn’t split. Bones stared at it and swung it down again. A loud thud but no crack. Angrily, Bones brought it down again and again. Slowly the fruit began to crack, and eventually snapped, revealing not a hallowed out center, but a solid, purplish substance. “Whah?” Bones poked the substance, finding it spongy but firm. “See, you went for every fruit you could see, not knowing which ones are ready and which ones aren't. Lumas trees produce fruit all year round. We have a method for figuring out which ones are ripe.” “But...but…” “Ah to be young like you.” Jho chuckled “Come, I have a perfect spot for you.” The large round Ithorian led Bones back to the clearing, where the others were. Jho sat down and invited Tognath to join him. Bones did, and listened to the Ithorian. He talked slowly about random things. He asked Bones questions about his life and where he came from. Despite Bone trying to be closed off, the brief answers given allowed Jho to launch into obscure topics. Facts about where the ship came from. Ideas for robot models to help gather the fruit. The verpine ‘infestation’ of the ship. Soon, night began to fall. The ship had programmed its day/night cycle to match Ithor’s night cycle, but also adjusted it so that way its night cycle overlapped Artus Prime’s night cycle. As the simulated sunset occurred, and the shadows grew everywhere, Bones had his breath taken away. The lichen vines that grew from the Lumas trees began to emit shades of soft blue and purple light. As the vines wrapped around the trees, the color changed from a blue to a green. When the darkness grew more and more, the light became stronger and stronger. Even in the pitch blackness of night, each branch and path was well illuminated by the tree's glow. As Bones sat and admiring the sudden beauty, Jho stood up and shouted. “Release the bugs!” Five Ithorians went to the large buzzing containers and unscrewed their tops. Numerous small insects flew out, a swarm of beetle-like beings. Even as they flew out, Bones saw they also glowed. Small dots of yellow swarmed the air and slowly went upwards into the trees. “Suckler Beetles” Jho commented to the Bone’s wonderment. “Nocturnal bugs from Ithor. Powerful scent glands in them. They can smell nutritious material a mile away though a foot of solid durasteel. We collect them at the end of the night once they fall asleep. The don't bite much, but I don't think that'll bother you” Bones looked at Jho, unable to tell if he was exaggerating. But he could see what they were doing. The Sucklers flew amongst the trees and began to swarm and crawl over the lichen balls and the seeds they held. Large glowing yellow orbs amongst the blue and purple glowing vines. “Amazing. It’s like...like… well I don’t know but...wow!” Bones exclaimed. Jho chuckled and tapped Bone’s shoulder. “It is. Most newcomers never stay around long enough to see this. You have to be patient to see this. But our defenders...well, sometimes one or two come here to meditate.” “Now…” Jho pointed to one of the lifters and handed Bones a large basket as well as a metal rod. Bones felt the engraving of ‘Jho Jho’ on it. “Get to collecting. Stick is good for knocking the fruit loose. I want that back. I’ll be back soon.” With that, Jho turned and left to do whatever he needed to do. Bones nodded and got to work. This time not out of anger or wanting to prove something. This time, Bones was basking in the beauty of the glowing Lumas trees and their seeds.
  27. Mod Post It was recently requested that forces be granted to the Sith in a flavor-style manner (not used for specific offensive purposes, but as a backdrop) to engage any forces defending Corellia. After having thought it over, I realized this demanded a mod post with flavor text to establish expectations for this situation and other situations moving forward. As of right now the Fleets system is meant to supplant the former planetary defenses. Fleets are the planetary defenses, and if you don't have a fleet available to defend a planet, it isn't considered properly defended against the might of an enemy fleet. As of right now, there are no fleets explicitly defending Corellia. As such, no matching fleet/task force sized element will be allowed as a backdrop. This was a difficult decision to make as this is a highly complex situation since it's in the middle of a large scale battle and could potentially affect the narrative of others moving forward given how the battle could shift across the entire Corellian system. Saying yes to this makes a wide array of assumptions that does change the battlefield, even in a small way. As the Mod presiding over this battle, I'm not willing to accept potential fallout for that if things do go sideways, and while it might be "less cool", this is largely a preventative measure to help keep things fair and fun for everyone. This also sets precedent and relies on some previously mentioned precedent, so care needs to be given to what happens. If this was a smaller skirmish between two PCs and their forces, it would be a LOT easier to sign off on it as it's obviously not going to potentially further affect things past that interaction, but it's not so cleanly cut here. We have a history of allowing things via agreements to bypass pvp rules, but again, due to the complexity of this battle I don't think that's a super feasible route to take here this time. And yet, despite all this, I recognize the importance of storytelling element at play here. That is a drum I have beaten for a long time, ensuring the rules and community emphasize good writing. I fully understand and respect the value of good writing. As such, here is what I am interjecting into the narrative as a Mod: The defenses around Corellia are primarily starfighter-based, with perhaps some larger patrol gunboats that are smaller than corvettes but fulfill a similar role as well as anti-air turrets and the like. Similarly, Sith starfighter, bomber, and interceptor squadrons and have been sent to suppress ground forces in preparation for a full-scale invasion. Both forces are locked in vicious combat, evenly matched, and cannot be commanded or referenced except in observation. Neither side is majorly prevented from landing forces or evacuation. This still simulates the tumultuous backdrop of brutal war without the need for larger elements to enter the fight. The "victory" of either side will be determined by the victor of the fleet combat in the system, either via total destruction or last man standing in the event of retreat. Please understand how difficult it was for me to make this call, especially since it seems like it should have been far simpler than it was. These kinds of things often have a complex depth to them that isn't immediately apparent, and that potential complexity still has a large factor in how certain things are ruled on. That being said, my priority is first and foremost to fairness, and secondarily to promoting a fun environment for everyone. If you take issue with this ruling, please PM me on site or DM me via Discord.
  28. Alright, Take #4. Liquid Nano Metal - Liquid Nano Metal is essentially a mass of metalliic nanomachines. These nanomachines are relatively simple, they are only good for forming into particular shapes, and can only be made to do so under laboratory conditions. Once they have taken a form, they become solid, and can no longer change shape unless they are 'reprogrammed' in a specialized magnetic field. Their practical application is forming dense, atomically precise machinery and electronics. They can, however, restore to their intended configuration if the structure they formed is damaged, provided the damage is not too extensive and the device is given hours connected to a power source to do so. Wartide "Knightsaber" Hardsuit - Designed with the threat of Jedi and Sith in mind, these power armor are intended to provide their wearers the strength and speed necessary for a non-force user to compete in hand to hand combat with a Jedi or Sith Master. These hardsuits are constructed using Liquid Nano metal, allowing them to contain complex systems without extreme bulk. They are powered by a micro fusion reactor, located on the back of the armor. They have a sleek and organic appearance. Each hardsuit is entirely custom, with only the basic design for maneuvering and life support systems being standardized. This is necessary for the hardsuit to fit the body of its wearer precisely, without this level of customization the neural control system would not function properly and the joints would not correctly mirror the user's. A weight fluctuation in the wearer as small as 5lbs may require the suit to be entirely reconstructed. Likewise, due to the extremely compact nature of its mechanisms, integrating new equipment requires reconstruction. In exchange, the user gains superlative strength and mobility. Movement is actuated by electrical signals detected off the surface of the wearers skin, reacting with imperceptible delay. Hardsuits come standard with micronized ion based thrusters and repulsor tech but are generally too heavy to fly even when augmented with an external jet pack. This micronized technology compensates for the larger mass of the armor in movement, helping to calibrate for inertia as well as perform significantly high leaps. Defensively, the hardsuit is only slightly more durable than a normal suit of durasteel armor, offering good protection against physical attacks and moderate protection against energy. Being as it is essentially a wearable droid, the armor is vulnerable to ion and emp weaponry. This is mitigated by grounding circuits which will route electricity into the floor, but repeated strikes will quickly fry these circuits. The come with a built in personal ray shield to protect from energy attacks, but the shielding is no stronger than a stand alone personal shield, and will only protect against a few strikes. In the event of major power failure, a hardsuit will open to allow its wearer to escape. It can repair vital electrical systems and reboot in roughly an hour unassisted provided that is the only damage. Alternatively it can be manually hauled to a charging station to reinitialize, though the hardsuits are generally far too heavy for most organic beings and droids to do so without the assistance of heavy towing/lifting machinery. The armor also doubles as a space suit, fully enclosing and protecting the wearer from vacuum environments and other atmospheric hazards, though the on-board capacity for oxygen (or other pre-loaded atmosphere depending on species) is limited to only a few hours. Though every hardsuit is unique, many will use supplemental Phrik or Cortosis alloy plating over vital points to mitigate the threat of lightsabers. Such materials are too rare and expensive to cover a large portion of the armor. Weapons and other integrated equipment may vary based on the wearer's tastes. (Weapon loadouts are subject to mod approval on an individual basis.)
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