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Aiwanee Tres

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  1. Aiwanee watched IG disappear around a nearby intersection with a great deal of trepidation. Since being awoken by the facilities warning klaxons, the two had been making their way steadily along the path laid out for him by HL-1. Between facility guards and their attackers, their progress seemed destined to take forever. Worse, IG seemed impatient, frustrated and prone to taking excessive risks. The woman charged at whole groups of combatants from both sides, with either her carbine spitting heavy plasma death at anyone unlucky enough to be in her way or her lightsaber pike cleaving bodies in twain. She never seemed to tire, never seemed to rest, desire seemingly fueling her drive to get them where they needed to be. He worried about the trail they left behind, wandering if anyone survived their attacks as witnesses to their flights despite his best efforts to prevent that from happening when a few moments appeared between battles. Aiwanee soon found that wearying and found it easier just to use seized weapons to execute those few who survived. He found himself carrying a heavy blaster pistol, a red bladed shoto, wearing light battle armor over an institute sensor suit, a heavy blaster rifle and a wrist style mini rocket launcher. The rifle came from one of the guards he killed and seemed to be a standard issue for most of the guards there so he had plenty of power packs after looting some of the bodies. A light helmet with comm system and electronic visor completed his find from their cache. A battle broke out from around the intersection, the sound of IG’s force pike and the fire from a lot of blasters made him rush to the corner to find what she encountered. He ran into her backside as she retreated from looked to be a half a dozen mercs supported by a heavy combat droid. Reaching out, he pulled her back around the corner as the droid unleashed a stunning volume of fire where she’d just been. As she fell beside him, he twisted to steal a kiss on her lips before she scrambled to regain her feet. “Stay alive, will you?” he screamed over the din. She shook her head, an angry scowl crossing her face because of either the droid, him or both. His feelings centered on keeping her alive and them together and if that made her angry so be it. Peeking around the corner, he looked to see the droid and the mercs in the same position they had been moments before. Only the droid did not fire and the mercs looked confused by the sudden cessation of their fire support. “Aiwanee, you need to get moving. I can’t hold the airlock against the institute’s guardsman much longer. If you want this lander, you are going to get moving,” said HL-1. “If you don’t mind, I hacked two heavy battle droids to escort you there. Call them Somnus and Thanatos when you need their attention.” “You’re monitoring our progress?” “Thanks to those institute suits you are wearing. When you get here, make sure you discipline IG. She’s expecting it.” “Huh?” asked Aiwanne, only half paying attention to HL-1. Around the corner, the battle droid had turned on its former comrades, slaughtering them mercilessly. The slaughter almost made Aiwanee feel bad for the raiders. Almost. “Former Imperial Guardsman, remember? For taking the risks she’s taking, someone in her chain of command would be ordering her punishment before she even finished her mission which she is jeopardizing with her impatience.” IG’s hand tapped his shoulder quizzically, as if wanting to know what was going on. He realized HL must be cutting her out of the conversation. When he motioned her to wait, she attempted to storm past him and made it about 10 feet before running into the wall made by two combat droids that absolutely refused to yield to her. HL-1’s voice came into his ears with advice. “On second thought, your left bracer holds a touch display. I am bringing up her behavior modification system for her. Select a body part, select the level of pain or pleasure and let her know you’re the boss.” “What? Wait, can you do this to me?” asked Aiwanee as he watched IG turn around, her face hard and suffused with anger. “No, her suit was modified by the institute long before you were decanted. And you better hurry with that pain module.” One good look into IG’s eyes convinced him HL’s suggestion had merit. He raised this left bracer, started at the options for a moment and touched the display’s representation. The figure on the screen rotated slightly until it stood in a three-quarter profile. He tapped HL’s shoulder, selected a medium pain setting and touched initialize. IG staggered but kept coming, the fury in her eyes making him select another section of the figure on the screen. He hesitated only slightly before selecting the muscles of her abdomen as a target. He set the pain to max and initiated. IG stopped in her tracks and eventually collapsed. After the pain rain its course, she looked up at him with something new in her eyes, something feral yet disciplined. That faded to be replaced by reason, sanity, and something like awe. The sequence chilled his soul yet left him feeling more than a little powerful. “Oooh, that was interesting,” chimed in HL. “Looks like your IG now belongs to you, heart, mind and soul.” “What are you talking about and how much can you see.” “Everything, and it should be obvious. In IG’s eyes, you’re her commander, lover, and owner in one fell swoop. The institute did a very interesting programming job on her mind.” “She’s a droid?” “Nope, a human whose behavioral patterns were ‘preprogrammed’ into her. Not sure she was supposed to be yours but now she is. How about you get moving and get down here.” “On the way,” said Aiwanne, ”feeling the tremors of shock in his own voice.” Horror, wonder and a slew of other emotions raged and warred just below conscious thought as they began steadily moving on the path set by HL-1. Nearly an hour later they peeked around a final counter to see a half dozen guards standing before the door to the hangar where HL-1 waited. The hissing of a plasma torch alerted them that the guards had decided to cut their way past the door. IG stayed with him this time, though the cold look in her eyes had him wondering if his earlier disciplining her made her more dangerous than before. He almost signaled the two droids to venture forward and slaughter the guards when movement from another hallway caused him to reconsider the move and wait. When he turned back around the corner to see what the moment yielded, he saw the original guardsman supplanted by another half dozen and a woman whose presence screamed authority. He felt IG’s presence beside him and turned to see her focused on the young woman now talking to the guards at the hangar entrance. She pulled him back around the corner. “Someone important with combat training and access to wealth”, she said. “How do you know?” “Vibrosword on her back, custom armor and blaster at her side and the way those mercs defer to her. Let’s try and take her alive.” He looked at her a moment trying to figure out what was going on with her. It seemed a lot of secrets needed to be unwound if they made it out of here. “Stun only,” said Aiwanee motioning the two droids forward. They moved past him and unloaded a massive amount of blasts at the mercenaries. A smile twitched across IG’s face as the droids began their assault upon their targets. Almost immediately, pieces of armor from the droids began flying about the hallway. Aiwanee and IG added their firepower to the mix and quickly found themselves barely holding their own. The mercs were very good, nearly good until the interior hanger doors opened and a half dozen stun grenades followed by a flurry of badly aimed stun bolts drove the mercs out of their cover. The battle quickly ended, but not before one of the combat droids shut to protect its core. Their target remained standing and very defiant to the last. It took the combined fury of all of them to finally bring her down. As they stood in the aftermath of the battle, a droid emerged from the hanger bay. Aiwanee traded a look with IG as what appeared to be a destroyer droid with blocky Miralauka features and six arms armed with four heavy blaster pistols and a pair of grenade launchers emerged. “A1 and IG. ‘Bout time you got here.” “HL?” asked Aiwanee. “The same,” said the droid. “Now if you don’t mind, why don’t you get on board our ship and bring that young woman with you. She’s was a great deal of trouble earlier and I want to know whom she is.” After quickly removing a few credits and other items from the mercs, IG and Aiwanee slapped a pair of stun bracelets upon the woman’s wrists and ankles and carried her to the Lambda class shuttle sitting in the hanger. “Welcome to your new home. ‘Fraid it’s a bit Spartan at the moment, but we have an appointment in the ruins of the Dac system to add some weapons and other accommadations to the ship.” A moment later, the ship blasted from the hanger and into the Taris sky on its way towards the Dac system.
  2. “Lady Ques, welcome back to our facility,” said the immaculately dressed receptionist as he rose from his desk chair.” The lady in question responded curtly, not even bother to lower her nose to look young man’s way, “Summon Dr. Kohl.” Wordlessly, the receptionist pressed he intercom button on his desk and said to the microphone clipped to his colar,”Paging Dr. Kohl, Paging Dr. Kohl to reception.” No one summond Dr. Kohl, no one except Lady Ques. A few seconds later, a male Kaminoan entered the room and bowed to the woman . “Greetings, Lady Ques. The lasts of your father’s cones successfually completed his trials yesterday. We’ll be putting him into th galaxy at large. Would you care to see a demonstration." “Yes. My mother grows impatient waiting to see which of the three clones will survive to become her reincarnated husband.” “Please follow me,” said the Doctor. “I’ll notify by staff of the change of plans.” The doctor, without ookin , seept his way through a pair of doors with the words, “Val Ques Center for Genetic and Nanotechnological Research.” Lady Ques followed, high heels clicking as she caught up wth Dr. Kohl who began speaking once she walked beside him. “Your father’s generous bequest to create the Taris facility has been used widely and the breakthroughs and insights gained allowed your father’s clones to reach maturity and complete their flash based training in record time while meeting the parameters we discussed.” “Good,” was the terse reply. The two proceeded through a set of twin doors marked ‘Authorized Personnel Only’. Only after Dr. Kohl passed retinal and showed his I.D. to a guard behind a blaster resistant glass panel. “Before we begin, Lady Ques, do you know if your father was Force Sensitive?” “As I have said before,” said the Lady impatience in her voice, “we are Miralauka. By our nature our race is Force Sensitive. If you are asking if my father was a devotee of the Jedi, Sith or something in-between, only my mother might know and she has said nothing to me. Why do you ask yet again?” “All three of the final clones showed a disposition to becoming Force sensitive. The last has been particularly difficult and may be drawn to the Force after release.” “That will be his choice,” said Lady Ques. A chime rang on the Doctor’s wrist padd. He smiled at the Lady as an apology and raised his arm to check the message. “Our demonstrations ready. Please watch the wall. If you need hard statistics, they will be displayed on the side walls next to the screen. “Yard 4,” said the Doctor and the wall before them lit up the room with an image of two figures in a training yard many miles away from where they stood yet apart of the institute’s immense campus. Both started dispassionately at the two figures. Unaware they were being watched, the third clone of Val Ques, known to the staff and Lady as A1-E3 and his trainer circled each other. Both held metallic looking staves held in guard positions. “Who is his trainer?” asked the Lady. “In case one of the clones killed someone, we cloned backups of all the trainers. In her original life, she was a retired Imperial guardsman.” “My father ordered the best,” she said without a hint of courtesy. “His trainer is IG-1071C, three times champion of Carida in Teras Kasi and 3rd level master in the Enchani arts on top of 30 years as an Imperial Storm Trooper.” She personally accounted for four Jedi Knights, a half dozen Wookies hand to hand and fought everywhere from Hoth to Dubrillion, eventually rising to command a stormtrooper legion under Grand Admiral Thrawn before her retirement.” “Administrative Retirement?” asked the Lady, using a well-known euphemism for storm troopers that lived beyond their useful service years. “No,” said the Doctor. “Her troops nicknamed her the Iron Lady with a great deal of affection because her training and tactics helped bring them home, often leading tirelessly from the front when many others might have given up.” Both remained impassive when IG-1071C kicked A1-E3 in the ankle, a move followed by the sound of bones breaking before a pair of kicks caught him on the chest and jaw respectively. The Lady’s face twitched once when despite the pain, A1-E3 somehow stayed on his feet and returned the blows with his staff. The strikes caused similar sounds as before, with both fighter’s eventually falling to the ground. A chime sounded in the Doctor’s bracer. He looked down and replied to the built in comm-link. “See to it both receive bacta treatments. Put A1-E3 in the sim tank and begin the avatar program.” Turning to Lady Ques, the doctor said, “We have a few moments before the tank is ready. You should know that’s the 1st tie IG-1071C’s has ever suffered. Everything else has been knockout or death. “So, even without the Force, A1-E3 is the best at hand to hand of my father’s three clones?” The doctor stared at his notes for a moment for a moment. Had the Lady Ques been actually watching him, she might have seen a brief hint of worry pass over the doctor’s face. “That’s why I’ve asked some many times about your father. The E3’s reflexes are twice that of the Force sensitive clone we sold to the Sith, yet we have been unable to detect any usage of the Force. According to the director responsible for his training, it would take both of the other clones on their release day to deal with him if he was unarmed and they were. A chime sounded from the wall sized view-screen, which went solid gray before showing them several different images of A1-E3 standing on the bridge f an Imperial II class destroyer with what looked like a skeleton crew. Standing next to him was an Imperial captain watching a raging battle outside the ship’s combat shields. A voice came over the simulated ship’s comm system. “Destroyer Baccaur, proceed to objective. Blue wing, provide cover and escort. The screen split at a command from the doctor, one showing the bridge of the Baccaur, the other showed an exterior, bird’s eye view. As they watched mutely, Baccaur proceeded to break formation along with an escort of support ships and fighters and ponderously move towards the planet. After 5 minutes, Baccaur began orbiting the unnamed world, showing serious damage throughout its superstructure and struggling to remain fighting. The captain next to A1-E3 began incoherently screaming at his bridge crew about needing to return to the battle line. “During the original battle, the Baccaur attempted to withdraw to the original battle line and ended in a very spectacular loss. The Imperial’s eventually withdrew from the planet. “So, what is A1-E3 doing?” “At the moment, ordering security to remove the captain from the bridge. As for the rest, I assume he is using his Avatar mode to link with the ship’s central computer and expand his ability to compute possible solutions at truly terrifying speeds while retaining humanoid creativity. The result, I believe, is what you are about to see.” Tie bombers began emerging from Baccaur’s bays and spit off towards the planet’s surface. Somone on the opposing side must have made a decision as some of the defending ships split off the main attack and chased the bombers. The sudden reduction in attackers gave the Imps a necessary breather and the defenders payed a price, falling prey to the Imperial ships and leaving their planet unguarded. Security guards whom had held the Captain on the bridge finally led him away. On screen, A1-E3 informed the task force commander of their arrival whose voice immediately ordered the ship to commence ‘Base Delta Zero’ bombardment. The Baccaur’s turbolaser’s began turning towards the planet, only to have shouts sound from the various bridge personnel. “System Failure in Main Batter cooling,” came one shout. Someone else shouted, “Unknown signal disrupting targeting systems.” The Lady Ques looked over at the doctor whom pointed towards one of the side panels which showed the overall damage to the Baccaur. The indicated system flashed as working while another showed that no signal emanated from other than the Imperial fleet. She looked over at the Doctor even as a third shout went up from the bridge crew. “Reactor containment breach imminent. Evacuate, Evacuate!” Again the display indicated the indicated system to be functioning properly. The doctor’s eyes widened as he saw the Lady smile directly at him. “My father’s personality seems to be asserting itself. You can end the scenario doctor, I can see what’s coming next already. The Baccaur’s crew will soon be evacuated and the ship will be turned on the Imperials. I am betting my father has already been bought off by a rebellion sympathizer?” “For a great deal of credits, yes,” said the doctor turning off the screen. “Even better, there’s a small rebel fighter standing by to rescue your father when tdhe big ship is destroyed.” “He never was one to pass up profit,” she quietly said. “So what’s the next step?” “A1-E3 goes into the galaxy at large within a week after a fake hit upon the facility. When he comes out of Bacta, he will find himself placed with IG-1071C. We have inhibitor chips placed to keep them from becoming sexually attracted to one another.” “That’s a risk?” asked the lady. “Very much so. The two previous clones both became romantically involved with her. One left her for the Jedi order, the other seduced her on orders from his master than tortured her for months before feeding her to a rancor.” “Ruthless.” “Yes.” One week later A1-E3 and IG-1071C found themselves assigned to a suite of rooms together a situation both found remarkable unexciting until today. As usual, he sat down at his desk terminal after a long day of training while IG went to take a shower, stripping down on her side of the room and tossing the ubiquitous training gear into a waiting slot before moving towards the bathroom with a towel in hand. For the first time, he really noticed her and found himself completely distracted from what he was about to do. She turned, smiled, and he felt his pulse skyrocket as a realization dawned on him she wanted him to see her. She flounced into the bathroom and he tried to shake his head to clear it and failed. Struggling with his passion he managed to attach a lead from the terminal to a port located near his right ear. Immediately, he found himself emerging into a customized UI where another companion awaited him. “Hey HL-1,” said A1-E3, greeting the UI’s interpretation of the rogue droid that lived far below Taris’ Eucenopolis. The droid was his only friend outside of the institute, after having hacked its way into his UI over a year ago. As always, the droid was all business “Got a couple of new items for you,” said HL. “1st is the inhibitor chips you and that IG clone had within you. Shut’em down. Don’t worry, your jailors don’t know about it, made’em think the little gadgets are still functioning. You should enjoy the results.” The droid paused in a too Miraluaka way. “Managed to get you some basic supplies to help you survive the coming raid on that facility. Some basic weapons, armor, and other gear are stowed in a bin just outside the door. When the raid comes, grab the gear and head towards that shuttle we talked about. I will meet you there.” A1-E3 wanted to ask more but the droid raised an appendage. “Not now. Your roommates in that shower alone and you should enjoy not having that chip messing with you while you can.” The UI abruptly ended, throwing A1-E3 back into the real world and the very undeniable needs of his attraction to IG-1071C. He went towards the ‘fresher, removing clothes as he did so. He just stepped over the threshold of the room when he heard IG say, “Took you long enough. Now go close the door before the hot air gets out and come here.”
  3. Aiwanee Tres' character sheet Identity [!ident] Real Name: A1-E3 A.K.A: Val Quies (Genetic Material), Aiwanee Tres, Homeworld: Corellia Species/b]: Miralauka Physical Description [!dscrp] Age: 25 years Height: 5’8” Weight: 200 lbs Hair: Black Eyes: Green Sex: Male Equipment [!equip] Clothing and Armor: (Standard) None. Will be determined through roleplaying. Weapon: None. Will be determined through roleplaying. Common Inventory: None. Will be determined through roleplaying. Faction Information [!factn] Will be determined through roleplaying. Force Sensitive: Yes Alignment: None. Will be determined through roleplaying. Current Faction Affiliation: None. Will be determined through roleplaying. Current Faction Rank: None. Will be determined through roleplaying. History: [!hstry] Force Side: Will be determined through roleplaying. Trained by: none Trained who: none Known Skills: Communication (Several Million) Other, non-common Skills: Ship – Link, Forearm blades. Background: A1-E3 is the cloning vat this enhanced Miraluka came from, an experiment in cloning a non-Human species merged with limited cyborg enhancement. The enhancements are limited to communications (6 million forms or so), ship’s beckon call, and as vibro-blades projecting backwards from his forearms. Their function is permanently fixed. Aiwanee was initially intended to be a walking, talking replicable ship’s avatar until his Force Sensitivity was discovered. Then a renegade member of the criminal syndicate sent out a message to the galactic community. The Miraluka, named Val Quies, whom donated the genetic material came from an individual whom rose through the ranks of local mobsters on Coruscant. He eventually became an ‘officer’ in a Hutt syndicate that had members on Coruscant, Corellia, Narshadaa, Korriban, Onderon, and Kuat. The syndicate specialized in trafficking sentients between those planets, making its greatest profits on special orders from buyers willing to pay exorbitant fees for their choice of sentients. Val Quies served for loyally for 40 years, eventually rising to Major Domo to the syndicate’s ‘Father’, until the head of his syndicate offered their services to a Sith. Profits soared, but the Sith eventually came to the attention of the Jedi and his syndicate found itself fighting a war as allies of the Sith. The syndicate died when the Sith and the syndicate’s leadership fell to the Jedi. Those members still living, either joined other syndicates, went legitimate, got arrested, or retired. He chose to retire, cleaning out several accounts before settling in a penthouse in a modest residential area on Taris. He lived out the remained of his life quietly, keeping a ‘mistress’ acquired in his past life while running a licensed casino.
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