Krath Apothos

"...I think perhaps I was unclear. No, I dont desire equality. However, I find if two parties can make pretenses of equality, they tend not to...strain each other as much." He chuckled. "Its the entire lie civilization itself is based on, and it's such a useful tool. So allow me to clarify." Nok held out his hands in a gesture of conciliation. "Pretend to treat me as an equal, and I shall do the same for you. Because you are right. I am not weak. Nor do I aspire to mere equality. What I desire, Darth Inmortos, has no limit." Nok turned, but before he stepped away, he paused. "My apologies for my brusque words before. I'm usually far more in control, and I'm sorry if you took offense at my rudeness. I shall endeavor to be more polite in the future." ____________________________________ 6 hours later Nok gasped for air, and the din of clattering metal filled the underground complex. His pale, sickly gray-green hands twitched, and the normally unpleasant smell of the neimoidian people was amplified into something mythical as his body oozed oils approximating something similar to human sweat. "Again," Nok commanded. DG-S1D, one of the new Deepguard models fresh off the assembly line, stepped forward and pushed the pile of scrap off the otherwise bare floor in front of his neimoidian master. DG-S2D followed, bearing another copy of what the pile of scrap had once been. A gonk droid. "Master..." DG-S2D began "...Perhaps it would be..." DG-S1D chimed in. "...better if you started..." "...with something..." "...less complex..." Nok took a deep breath, then slowly released it. Millions of credits in research and development...and yet 50 programmers couldn't get rid of that kriffing tic. Nok had gone so far as to use Mechu Deru on these two. Apparently it hadn't worked. "...Stand back," was all Nok said. Complexity wasnt the issue. This was a matter of will. He extended his hand, and began to chant. "Dewch wrth i fy ewyllys ddod, yn unmake fel y mae fy ewyllys yn ei wneud, fod fel y mae'n rhaid i'm hewyllys fod" The sluggish currents of the Force, stagnant in the sterile, stale air of Nok's droid factory, quickened to Nok's touch. Crazed whorls spun into existence, before settling into something that almost betrayed a pattern as the chant and Nok's will shaped them. The currents twisted and bucked as Nok narrowed his focus, like snakes writhing in his hand, but his command was absolute. The nexus of the currents drew tighter and tighter together, and the air rippled in protest to the unrefined sorcery. Then the currents collapsed. Nok felt...joy. Awe. He gazed on the Force, the infinite connections that bound together all living things. Was...was this what the Jedi saw? What they felt? Was this the Will of the Force? Then the moment was over, and Nok stood before the squealing gonk droid, frantically stepping back and forth while its octave of tones gave the approximation of a scream. Nok wasn't sure how long had passed. Not slag. Good. Now the moment of truth. Nok extended his awareness into the droid, the act almost second nature now. And there it was. The droids power source, slightly altered. The droid was now a bomb. The droid's screams continued, and Nok wondered if it understood what had been done to it, but he quickly dismissed the thought in the face of the triumph that rang in his mind. Transformation. The fourth level of mechu-deru. Assembly hadn't held much challenge after Nok figured the trick, but Transformation had stymied him. Sensing, controlling, and altering technology simply through will...it only worked by avoiding comprehension. Each level of mechu-deru required new forms of forced ignorance, the ability to deny what was real and bring his own desire into certainty. "I suppose we should test it." Nok extended his hand again, and with a practiced thought sent a command to burrow into the droid's most basic programming. Walk The droid, interestingly, did not stop screaming. Its legs however obeyed. Even as it wailed, it rotated and walked where Nok desired, into the test bay. DG-S1D slid the reinforced door shut behind it. Nok sent another command to droid, still clear to his senses behind the door. Die BOOM The room shook and quivered while the sliding door groaned, but it was over as quickly as it begun. Nok smiled. ____________________________________ The next night The banquet hall glittered and gleamed in the soft, artificial lights. Tapestries commemorating the triumphs and trials of the peoples of Mon Cala hung beside the skulls of sea beast down centuries ago in hunts only remembered by names and dates. Soft, low music echoed through the chamber from hidden speakers, and servant droids moved through the room on padded feet, to better ensure their masters were undisturbed by their attendance. However, the sight that dominated the eye was what lay on the table itself. Surrounded by platters of fruit, sauces, and side-dishes, sat a slab of golden-browned meat. As large as a person and lacking any definable shape, one wouldn't be able to determine where it came from until the smell hit. The succulent, heady aroma of oil and seasoning mixed with the distinct smell of fish that enticed but never overpowered, and only one creature in Mon Cala's seas was known to produce such a mouth-watering combination. Nok had paid well to dine on the flank steak of a whaladon tonight.

Nok stared without hesitation at the sorcerer, though without eyes he wasn't sure if he looked intimidating or ridiculous. Then Inmortos mentioned the sword. ...A dark, evil sword possessed by a malevolent spirit? The words tugged at his mind. Something...something... Ah, the antique showpiece from Dromund Kaas! Nok's mouth twitched in the hint of a frown. He remembered now. The blade had been old, but the museum he'd gotten it from hadn't even been able to prove it was a Sith artifact, beyond being dug up on a formerly Sith planet. There had been rumors of staff who handled the blade acting strangely, and at least one custodian had offed himself after cleaning the sword's case. The rumors had intrigued Nok...but the sword proved to be nothing special. No Sith technology in the blade, nothing that might indicate a connection to the Force. Nok stole it anyway along with a few other Sith trinkets on display and locked it up, thinking it nothing more than junk, and dismissed the stories as people's morbid imagination seeing Sith in the shadows of the mundane. "I may have what you're looking for," Nok said, "looking" down as he brushing snow off his robe nonchalantly. "I'll send out a ship to retrieve it. It'll be here tomorrow morning." He turned his face back up to Inmortos, non-existent lips set in an annoyed, thin line. "In the meantime, if you wish to speak with me again, there is an intercom." He stood up. "I can assure you that you've made the impression you intended to. You are, indeed, very powerful, and can probably kill me. That's why I hope this display of yours was just that...a display, to educate me." His teeth gritted as a heat built in his chest, and the Force thickened with his rising storm of emotion. "Because I will not let someone push me around in my own house." He smiled, slime almost dripping from the expression. "Not unless I intend to kill them later." Nok's robe flared out at the unexpected venom in his words. No... Nok breathed in and knotted up his anger. He had always prided himself on control, and lately it had been slipping more and more. "I don't expect someone like you to be scared of me, especially after that little trick of yours. If you were, then you're either lying and plan to kill me, or you're not the person I need. However...if we are to work together, there are two things that need to be made perfectly clear. One. We are equals. Otherwise, we're just going to end up killing each other. Two." The ice and shattered glass clicked and rattled as Nok's anger burst its bonds again, and the faint echoes of something deeper and blacker rippled out to twist the Force into a sickening distortion. "Don't break my things. Fair enough?" Nok's face turned back into a unreadable mask, and his voice was again that of the conciliatory, compromising negotiator. Just one more scheming neimoidian.

Nok whipped around. The hall was empty. Silent. Nok stepped to the center of the hall as he pivoted. What is that? It was like a chill. Dead in the cold and dark. Then it struck. Nok's breath left him as the wave of pure darkness rippled out like a explosion and washed through the building and beyond. The Dark Side twisted and roiled as if some toddler had grabbed a thousand threads and was shaking them. For a moment, Nok couldn't identify what was real, lost in the cascade. Then, a shrill beeping brought him back. His comm was going wild. Nok picked it up and thumbed it on. A dozen different callers competed for a line, and systematically Nok went through each until the picture became clear. That Sith had conjured a storm. _________________________________________________ As the door to Darth Inmortos' room opened, a blast of chill air rushed out, eager to leech into the rest of the building now that the way was clear. His robes blowing violently back in the sudden gust, Nok braced himself against the wind and stepped inside. The Dark Side coalesced so strongly around this sorcerer that Nok had no issue seeing him, anymore then he might have trouble seeing a maelstrom. Grimacing at the raw power on display, Nok struggled in a few more steps as the cold tore at him with each step. How is this even...possible? Nok extended his hand, calling on the Force...and drew the room's rime-coated desk chair over to him. He sat down. He waited.

Nok stood up. He stepped out from behind his desk. "I say that I don't know you." He walked forward, slow measured steps circling the Firrereo's chair. "I say that your 'deal' sounds like a trap." He stopped directly behind the chair, facing the necromancer's back. "I say yes." A smile creased Nok's face. He lifted his hand, and the bag of jade coins lifted from the table, floated over the floor, and dropped in the Firrereo's lap. "Keep your baubles, and I'll keep mine...for now. If you want to buy something with them, then make the offer." Nok turned and walked back towards the office door. "I say I'll take whatever power...whatever freedom you promise." The door whooshed open as Nok commanded it with a gesture and a thought. "Deliver on that, and you can have any of the cold, dark places you want on my world." Nok turned back to the necromancer. "And when...if you turn on me, I will use every ounce of this planet's resources to burn you from the stars." The room's tapestries rippled almost imperceptibly as the waves of Nok's swelling darkness boiled out into the Force. This was his world. If this Sith could give him the power to master it, all the better. "The droids will show you to your room. Please accept my hospitality as an honored guest. When you are ready to deliver on that promise of freedom, of conquering my fear, let them know and they will summon me. Do not wander too far. We are not partners yet." Nok left the office.

As Nok watched the man...creature descend the ship, the first thing that became apparent was that this was truly the source of the entity he'd sensed puppeting the corpse a moment ago. As if opening a door to a symphony, Nok was a struck by the coils and surges of the Dark Side orbiting the figure. Nok had spent years studying and practicing to attain his grasp over the Force and his own emotions, but this man was different. He seemed to exist within the Force, as if his own body was merely an afterthought, the Dark Side his reach and mind all in one. Nok couldn't help stepping back. He had seen warriors, like Darth Akheron, and the nexus of power that radiated from him like a sun. He had seen possibly the greatest Sith assassin yet alive battle on this very planet, moving through the Force and drawing it along the edge of his will like a cloak. But this man was like Nok. He did not wield the darkness, or move with it. He understood it. He lived in it. And he was better at it than Nok. His feet would not move as the entity in robes and the tapping cane came closer. Fear clutched at him, a deep fear with no logical source. It was...death. Dead in the cold and dark. Nok stopped, then calmed, his fear radiating out in his own aura of will. This planet was his. His. He might be challenged, but he would not surrender here. He stood calm and poised as the dark warlock spoke his peace and handed him the bag. Much of what he said Nok did not understand, but Nok recognized the familiar clink of coins. What could he have in one bag? Fishing out a single coin and holding it between his fingers, Nok realized they weren't metal. Then he saw it in ripples of the Dark Side. It's...a soul. Nok only recognized the entity of a living creature from the soul snares he'd already seen. This was refined though. Concentrated and without the presence a soul snare allowed the occupant. A jade soul coin. Nok had heard of such things but never thought he'd see one. "...My lord, a hangar is hardly the place to do business. Please...this way." ______________________________________________________________________________ Inside a large, plush office, Nok placed the bag on the desk before seating himself behind it, another set of attendant droids wheeling in an elaborately cushioned hoverchair for their master's guest. "Now...what can I do for you, my lord?"

Wow...this was a hard one. On the one side, you have a Sith duelist whose preferred style is pure aggression, enhancing his blows and speed with the Force. On the other side you have a Jedi of equal rank whose preferred style is Soresu, the defensive style a Jedi would pick to repel such aggression. Both sides played their preferred styles to the hilt, with Mordecai throwing everything at his enemy while Hunan stayed on the defense, only mixing in a few attacks here and there as he instead played the long game. Mordecai upped the stakes by seemingly getting stronger with each injury as he channeled the pain into his attacks. Also, both sides did an excellent job of respecting the other. This felt like a respectful duel between two competent RPers, with no bad feelings on either side. I would have liked to see some acknowledgement from Hunan that Mordecai was enhancing his blows with the Force. It wasn't heavily emphasized in Mordecai's posts till near the end, but it would have been good to see that it was having an effect. Mordecai also didn't do much to acknowledge his opponent or his skill. These aren't requirements, but I would have enjoyed seeing what each opponent thought of the other's unique/unusual attributes. Just as an aside, neither side godmodded that I could tell. I don't believe Hunan's positioning of Mordecai was godmodding, particular since Mordecai made it clear he was going straight for Hunan and was therefore leaving Hunan to control their positioning through strategic retreating. I'll say it again, this one was hard. Hunan's sacrifice of his own knee to create a trap for the Sith, a trap built up over the fight, was excellent and exactly the gambit I'd expect to see from a Soresu using Jedi. Mordecai's pure aggression and constant flurry of attacks, turning pain into power, was the blend of passion and skill that make Sith such monsters in a fight. The turret that Hunan dropped wasn't mentioned previously in the duel or preceding posts (at least nowhere I could find), which I frown a little at. It works better here because Mordecai was so single-minded on attacking Hunan and acknowledged he didn't care what kind of trap Hunan was setting up, which was entirely in character for the Sith and his style. Final ruling… TIE I'm not a big fan of ties in duels like these, but here I didn't really see another way, including a sudden death round. Both players did an excellent job playing to their character' strengths and staying in character. Hunan was the more creative of the duelists with his trap, and Mordecai's willingness to acknowledge that his character wouldn't metagame caution when his player knew a trap was coming but would instead continue to throw himself at his enemy was a maturity you don't always see in duels. It will be up to each player how they leave the area of the duel. Excellent writing on both sides.

Production Information Model: DG-series "Deepguard" Creators: Mon Calamari Manufacturer: Mon Calamari Shipyards Place of Manufacture: Mon Cal Class: Battle Droid Cost: Standard DG-S - 8,000 credits Pacifier DG-P - 10,000 credits Monitor DG-M - 10,000 credits Overseer DG-O - 12,000 credits Exemplar DG-X - 40,000 credits Technical specifications Height: 1.9 meters (6'3") Sensor color: Red Armament: Soldier, DG-S Twin blasters concealed in right and left forearms, emitters located in the palms. Pacifier, DG-P: Flamethrower concealed in right forearm, emitter located in the palm. Sonic blaster concealed in left forearm, emitter located in the palm. Monitor, DG-M: Electroshock prod concealed in right forearm, emitter located in the palm. Personal energy shield generator (emits 2' radius circular shield) concealed in left forearm, emitter located in the palm. Overseer, DG-O: See Equipment Exemplar, DG-X: Telescoping 2' electrobaton concealed in right forearm. Repeating blaster concealed in left forearm, emitter located in the palm. Additional Equipment: Infrared sensors Short-range communications array Bronzium chassis (painted red) Overseer, DG-O: Arc-welder concealed in right forearm, emitter located in the palm. Scramble key and datadrive concealed in left forearm, scomp link located in the palm. Communications booster antennae, retracted into chassis when not in use. Exemplar, DG-X: Duranium chassis Description: During the Sith invasion of Mon Cal, an ancient chamber of a Dark Side entity was uncovered. Besides the entity itself, it contained a model of droid never before seen or recorded in any database. It's still unclear if the droids were intended to serve as guardians or wardens of the entity, and in the ensuing battle they were unfortunately all rendered inoperable. Some of the chassis were recovered, but the ancient systems proved impossible to repair. Given their design aesthetic, it's assumed they were created by Mon Calamari (or an ancestor species) millennia ago, potentially in the early days of the Republic. When Nok Morliss, the Sith in control of Mon Calamari Shipyards, saw how strong and efficient their design was, he commissioned a new battle droid based on them. Whatever couldn't be replicated was replaced with equivalent modern components, and soon several of the planetary ore refineries were expanded to manufacture this new project. Thus the DG-series "Deepguard" were born. Despite being battle droids with different specializations, each Deepguard looks identical and unarmed at a glance. This is purposeful, with the intent being to keep enemies from being able to identify which model of Deepguard they're dealing with until it's too late. Strong, durable, and bearing a cognitive module based on the BX commando droid, Deepguard are considerably more expensive than the cheap B1 units that come to mind when someone hears the term "battle droid". Designed to be deployed in small squads, Deepguard are rarely seen in groups larger than 10. They perform best in urban or indoor combat zones, but are perfectly capable of functioning underwater thanks to sealed electronics and several adjustable buoyancy bladders. The Deepguard's greatest strength is their ability to work in concert. Their cognitive modules constantly broadcast sensory data and analyses to other nearby Deepguard, allowing them to act and think as a coordinated team. Unfortunately, rebels have managed to crack Deepguard encryption several times, allowing them to intercept the link and essentially read their minds, or even broadcast their own disruptive datastreams. Deepguard shift encryption if they suspect they've been hacked, but this still drastically decreases their effectiveness for several minutes until they've fully switched over. This constant exchange of data has also led to a mildly annoying personality quirk where Deepguard will switch speakers midsentence whenever two or more are present. Attempts to correct this tic have been unsuccessful as Deepguard don't seem to be aware that they're doing it. The Deepguard droid model is most prevalent on Mon Calamari, but with the planet's burgeoning black market and rampant smuggling it's a foregone conclusion that the units and their design have made it offworld and into the hands of anyone with the credits to afford them. DG-S "Soldier" The base, and most common, model, designed to function as everything from a simple guard to a supplement for more specialized units. Its twin blasters, one concealed in each palm, are equivalent to a standard blaster rifle, but space limitations in the design forced the engineers to remove the auto-fire function. The Soldier units instead rely on accuracy and coordination to combat fast or evasive targets. DG-P "Pacifier" Created to deal with large mobs, insurgencies, and assault squads, the Pacifier Deepguard's weaponry is equal parts brutal and efficient. Its flamethrower will cook anyone lacking thermal-resistant armor, and the vibrations of its sonic blaster are set to specifically shatter bones on contact. If the Pacifier has a weakness, it's low ammunition. Both its weapons exhaust themselves quickly, and the droid relies on the shock of its attacks to drive remaining targets off or on supplemental troops to provide cover while it replenishes fuel and power packs. DG-M "Monitor" An early design created with policing and law enforcement in mind, the Monitor is focused on defense and incapacitation. Its energy shield allows it to close on a target where its electroshock prod can knock them unconscious or discipline them. More often though, this unit is paired with other models, providing cover for the more lethal weaponry of its fellows. DG-O "Overseer" The Overseer Deepguard was created as a purely supportive model. Improved analysis and processing speed makes it an effective commander, its arc welder can be used to make spot repairs, and its long range communications array greatly improves a squad's broadcasting capability. The slicing computer contained in its left arm adds additional utility in the field, and most Deepguard squads have one Overseer in their ranks as standard protocol. DG-X "Exemplar" Inspired by the magnaguard employed during the Clone Wars, the Exemplar model was specifically commissioned as an anti-lightsaber unit to be employed in security. Smarter, stronger, faster, and built with a more resilient duranium chassis, the Exemplar is programmed with combat data regarding the classic lightsaber forms. Its electrobaton, a miniature version of the electrostaff employed by magnaguards, can block lightsabers, and expensive components allowed the rapid-fire function to be added back into the concealed blaster by the designers. However, the Exemplar is not a duelist. Like all Deepguard, it relies on numbers and coordination to beat an enemy. One commander, upon seeing them in action, claimed that three Exemplars would need to work together to match the threat of a single properly programmed magnaguard. As such, they're usually deployed in squads of a minimum of three, and often mixed in with other, cheaper units to provide an element of surprise.

Dropping out of hyperspace, the sleek body of a hapan Nova-class battle cruiser stood silhouetted against the green of the planet below. Our Velvet Ire it proclaimed in soft, red lettering along the side. Immediately upon entering real-space, scramblers activated and the ship fuzzed out of the view of scanners. Following it, an eclectic cluster of ships dropped into the system piecemeal. The two Thranta-class corvettes stood in stark contrast to the smoother lines of the MC30c frigates, and completing the formation was the massive Lucrehulk Control Core Eye of Opulence, scarred and patched in dozens of places and spilling antique and refurbished droid fighters alike into the starfield. Commander Jaden Jorus looked out the viewport of the Eye of Opulence, grimacing as the incessant clanking of droids sounded a never ending cacophony of conflicting rhythms around him. It made him nostalgic for the unending hymns of the crew of the Black Bracer. "Where's the big one?" Jorus asked, directing his question to no one in particular. A pilot droid responded as it walked by, linked to the Core's central computer like every other droid on the ship. "Final ship will be exiting hyperspace in 7 sec-" The droid was interrupted as the viewport's view of the stars was suddenly and completed blocked by a massive wall of metal. The MC80a Star Cruiser The Prodigious had been built as a luxury vessel, and the huge ship still boasted many of the unique, artistic aesthetics that Mon Calamari engineers had no doubt poured days of their lives into designing. The effect of the silvery hull was rather marred by the heavy, black armor plating coating the ship's nose. "Prodigious, take point on formation, await further orders." "Yes commander," a warbly voice growled back at him. Quarren as a rule were hostile, but this death row convict Nok had pulled out of Dac City Penitentiary, oozed malice with every garbled word. I suppose if you want a captain willing to literally run his ship into someone else...

The hangar attendant stumbled back, conflicted between doing her job and running. As the creature rasped out its demand, the decision was made. Pivoting and running in a blind panic, her Mon Calamari eyes even wider, the attendant sprinted for the doors. As the door seemed to grow closer agonizingly slow, she reached out her hand for controls. As if responding to her will, the doors opened of their own accord. Nok Morliss strode in surrounded by four battle droids. The attendant skidded, trying to halt, managing to stop only a yard from colliding with the blind neimoidian. "Sir! We-" She didn't get the chance to finish as one of the droids struck her square in the face with the butt of its gun, and another two quickly dragged her out of the way. Nok didn't turn or slow, but continued towards the ship. When he had sensed this...thing, he had made his way to the spaceport immediately. It was...impossible to describe. Like waves breaking against a rock, the Dark Side seemed to swirl about the craft. Nok frowned as he sensed the...man? No, not a man. Emotion came from it, and it stirred the Dark Side, but it was like listening to an echo underwater. No creature could live with a body like that. "I believe I am the one you are here to see." Nok said to the corpse. He stayed a good several yards away, and his droids took a protective position ahead of him. If this thing came for violence, then the droids would fire on a single word, and the reinforcements Nok had stationed around the spaceport would pour in.

When Nok arrived back on Mon Cal, it was not in his normal ship, but on an old, beat up gunship. His droid servants were not programmed to be inquisitive, and did not question the conspicuous absence of The Bleeding Edge. It was just as well, as Nok likely would have shredded the first one to broach the subject. Nok spent the next few days in solitude, pouring the dark well of hatred and rage that had been born into his studies. To lose something was not unusual, but to lose something truly precious...was a new experience.

"Incoming fire!" The tinny voice of the pilot droid wailed as The Lady Legionnaire blossomed in missiles and torpedoes. "Evasive action!" Nok snapped, and he swayed as the expensive compensators of his ship strained at the G-forces of the pilot's sudden maneuvering. Booms shook the ship as The Bleeding Edge's cutting edge twin shield generators were pushed to their limit against the sudden salvo, even as Jorus' own fusillade intensified and found its mark more with each shot. "Were pulling away sir!" The pilot droid crowed. "We're-" Nok didn't hear what the droid was about to say next, as suddenly he was on the floor, head slamming into the bulkhead, blackness eating at the edges of his consciousness. Fighting not to pass out, Nok struggled to find his hands and feet while his mind reordered itself. The first thing to hit him was the smell. Smoke. Electrical smoke. Then his hearing came back, and the spitting sounds of sparks filled the cockpit. Nok pushed himself up, but his arms seemed weak and his body heavy, until he realized the pilot droid was on top of him, limp. "What...what happened?" Several long moments passed. The droid suddenly whirred and began looking around, its reboot sequence complete. It propped itself up on the dash and immediately began running through its checklists. "Hull integrity...9%. Shields...gone. Life support...failing...estimated 12 minutes. Propulsion...go-" Nok interrupted. "What the kriff happened!?" The droid paused, then said, "The pursuing ship exploded." Nok was silent for a moment. "The baradium..." He shook his head. "But why aren't we dead?" The droid cocked its head. "Master...we are in the cockpit. From what I can tell, that's all that remains of the ship. Only the shields and the angle of the blast forcing it to go through the entire rear of the yacht stopped it from completely vaporizing us." Nok lost any words he might have said. Everything. Everything he'd kept on the ship. His room, his droids...gorram it all, the skull! That trophy had... The cockpit quivered as the Force swirled around the singularity of rage and hate forming around Nok. In that moment, if he could have reached through the void to pull that squirming half mad sack of skin back, he would have if only to have him scream as Nok vented every bit of this...feeling on him. "Sir!" Nok snapped back to reality, suddenly hearing in incredible clarity the groaning of the doors. The same doors keeping the void of space out. Breathe. "Jorus will pick me up. Then...home." "Do you want me to arrange for salvage?" "...No. Nothing worth keeping here."

Jorus leaned in and activated the comm. He didn't contact Blimp though. He liked to half-mad (heh) spacer...but he knew who had the switch on his metronome. "Boss...it doesn't look like our partner is responding well to the surprise." ___________________________________________ Nok, having regained his composure, stayed silent for several long, tense moments. "Jorus," he finally responded. "...Yeah boss?" "Kill them all." "...Yes..." Nok waited. "...Boss..." ___________________________________________ The order was broadcast. Jorus's ships flipped around and began divebombing the spicejackers ships. Jorus's own gunship rocketing towards The Lady Legionaire. As the weathered Skipray came into scope, Jorus hesitated for a second over the controls. Nok's came through the comms on all channels. "My apologies Mr. Blimp, but I'm afraid you're no longer the leadership material I invested in. I did not pay for half a crime lord, and I certainly don't intend to babysit your personal issues." Nok's tone took a harder tone. "To surrender is to be eaten alive Mr. Blimp. I'm sure you understand." Jorus grimaced, and sighed. "Sorry mate." He pressed down on the firing trigger.

KRATH APOTHOS' CHARACTER SHEET Identity Real Name: Nok Morliss A.K.A: None Homeworld: Neimoidia Species: Neimoidian Physical Description Age: 31 Height: 6' 8" Weight:163 lbs Hair: None Eyes: Red Destroyed Sex: Male Equipment Clothing or Armor: Red robes, Black cloth draped over head and down to shoulders Cybernetics: 6" diameter patch of skin and meat in the center of his chest has been replaced with metal, cables, and tubes Weapon: x4 vibroblade knives (concealed in sleeves), ELG-3A blaster pistol, Lightsaber (Green) [Stolen on Mon Calamari from Scorpion, formerly belonged to Leena Kil's master], x2 Lightsaber Shotos (Silver) [Taken from Black Sun Leader R3-M0 after duel on Kessel, currently in vault on Mon Calamari] Common Inventory: Credit chips, typically 15,000 worth in pocket change (net worth far exceeds this), Emperiax Walking Throne, Neimoidian mechno-chair (attached to the back of Emperiax Wallking Throne) Faction Information Force User, Force Sensitive or Non-Force User: Force Sensitive Alignment: Neutral Evil Current Faction Affiliation: Sith Current Faction Rank: Lord History: Force Side: Sith Trained by: Darth Akheron, Krath Inmortos Trained who: Known Skills: Knife fighter, knife thrower, moderately talented slicer, expert accountant, skilled and knowledgeable intergalactic negotiator Force Skills: Telekinesis -Knife fighting via telekinesis Dark Sight Note: Uses ripples in the Force created by negative emotions and pain to sense the shapes and movement of the environment around the user. The more intense and numerous the emotion(s), the more detailed and greater ranged the sight. Cannot be used in conjunction with normal sight. Has developed a minor form of psychometry associated with the ability, able to sense strong negative emotions, pain, and death in an object's history, though with no detail regarding the events surrounding the emotions. Mechu Deru Force Lightning Background: Like all neimoidians, Nok Morliss was born a grub into one of the communal hives on Neimoidia. In standard neimoidian parenting, his hive mates and he were deliberately underfed to weed the weak and stupid from the greedy and cunning. Born to conflict, where other grubs survived, Nok flourished. Not content with merely hoarding his food and surviving, Nok bullied and cowed the other grubs into serving him, outright killing one of his siblings as a show of power. When the hive keepers checked on them, they found Nok ordering his hive mates around and distributing food like a lord. Of the original nine grubs placed in their hatchery, only five including Nok survived, Nok himself ordering the deaths of the other four to conserve food early on and maintain discipline. This taught Nok his first and most valuable lesson. More than food, more than money, more than knowledge, the universe respected power. And power was a matter of perception. Nok took this lesson to heart as he began his career in business. Unlike his fellows, cunning but cowardly, Nok faced his foes head on. He'd deliberately visit the offices of his competitors, showing no fear or respect for those too cowardly to confront him directly. An effective act, his reputation among his fellows swelled while he effectively did nothing. When he announced that his new company, Nova Acquisitions, would be starting a remote mining operation offworld, his competitors breathed a sigh of relief followed by muffled snickers. The planet he'd selected for his first nova crystal mine was only barely profitable, enough to keep the lights on but nothing so rich as to allow Nok to expand his operations. In their minds, the foolish youngster had unintentionally exiled himself to the remote regions of the universe. But Nok had not forgotten his lesson. Underestimated and out-of-mind was exactly where he wanted to be. While his little mining operation scraped by, Nok began sabotaging the very operations he sold his crystals to, often acting the part of the saboteur himself. When their debt to Nok increased as they became unable to pay, he'd bully them into selling their company to him for a steal. As Nok had each company keep the original names and staff, few suspected anything as Nova Acquisitions quietly grew and spread. Soon, through aggressive and amoral practices, Nok controlled a corporate empire and a sizable personal fortune, while his competitors only saw the foolish young neimoidian stuck in his mine. Then the dreams began... Nok would awaken each night, terrified. In his dreams, he died surrounded by powerful rivals, collapsed on the ground in the cold and dark. He turned up the heat to sweltering temperatures and slept with the lights on, but each night it was the same. Fear driving him, Nok hired noghri to train him in personal defense, mastering the art of vibroblades over several years of intense, paranoia fueled practice. He began knocking off his unsuspecting rivals, hiring assassins to take them out. Yet the dreams kept coming. Dying in the cold and dark. Finally, Nok turned to religion. He attempted a few Jedi meditations, but found the ideology grating and laughable. Then he discovered the Sith code. This appealed to him. This he could understand. The pursuit of power, and through that power...freedom. His joy when he had himself tested and discovered he was force-sensitive sealed his future. He would learn of this order, of these ideals, of this power. And once he wielded that power, he would be free of the future he saw in his dreams. Ship Registration Name: The Bleeding Edge Class: Space Yacht Model: Modified Luxury Yacht 3000 Manufacturer: Sorosuub Corporation Length: 50 meters Armaments: Two laser cannons (concealed in ship's nose), one ion cannon (concealed in ship's nose), two quad-lasers (top and bottom respectively) Armor: Reinforced durasteel plating Anti-Personnel Defenses: 15 OOM-model security battle droids Appearance: Standard appearance Modifications: Weapons, cutting edge twin shield generators (Destroyed) Name: The Iron Howlrunner Class: Space Yacht Model: Modified Baudo-class star yacht Manufacturer: Mendel Baudo Length: 32 meters Armaments: One laser cannon turret Armor: Reinforced durasteel plating Anti-Personnel Defenses: 6 DG-series "Deepguard" Monitor-class battledroids Appearance: Standard appearance Modifications: Custom built engines designed to allow acceleration and speeds on par with TIE interceptors ______________________________________________________________________________ Identity NPC controlled by Nok Morliss Real Name:Captain Jaden Jorus A.K.A:Old Jay Homeworld:Nal Hutta Species:Human Physical Description Age:67 Height:6’2” Weight:160 lbs Hair:White Eyes:Brown Sex:Male Equipment Clothing or Armor:Worn combat fatigues, cybernetic arm Weapon:Heavy blaster pistol Common Inventory:High-capacity datapad, portable scanner/communications array Faction Information Force User, Force Sensitive or Non-Force User: Non-Force User Alignment: Neutral Evil Current Faction Affiliation: Sith mercenary commander through Nok Morliss’ employment Current Faction Rank: NPC History Force Side:N/A Trained by:Various Nal Hutta mercenaries Trained who:None Known Skills: Survival training (skilled) Ground combat tactics (expert) Space combat tactics (expert) Speeder pilot (expert) Space pilot (skilled) Basic hand-to-hand combat (expert) Marksman (skilled) Cybernetic maintenance and repair (skilled) Background: Captain Jaden “Old Jay” Jorus will be the first to admit he shouldn’t be alive. On a planet where the average scumbag tough-for-hire survives a decade or two at best, Captain Jorus managed to keep himself from a gutter grave through a combination of caution, intelligence, and a lot of luck. That luck kept him alive when he started pirating for one of the local hutt lords, saw him through several stints with different mercenary companies, and even got him through a term of service as a draftee in a moff’s army post-Empire. Eventually he managed to commandeer his own freighter when he stumbled on its distress signal in an asteroid field, and decided that at his age he had better find a safer line of work than soldiering, and so he became a smuggler. It was on his last smuggling job, a simple pickup for an arms dealer, that his number finally came up. One of the arms dealer’s enemies had tracked him down and managed to detonate the munitions shipment, hoping to take everyone with her. The arms dealer and Jaden both survived but were badly wounded. The medical droid on the dealer’s nearby ship rushed both into surgery, keeping Jaden alive while it worked on its master. Jaden would later learn it had done so in case it needed “raw materials” to keep its owner alive. When the arms dealer, the neimoidian Nok Morliss, woke up, he ordered his droid to fix up Captain Jorus as best it could. Up until this point, Nok Morliss had been expanding his business and fortune through shady deals, sabotage, fraud, takeovers, and any other method he could think of, and he’d been handling much of the field work personally. Exposing himself like he had for a simple arms deal had been a mistake, and he needed someone to take over the grunt work of his operation. Captain Jorus would be that someone. When Jaden finally awoke after weeks of sedation, he found roughly half of his internal organs replaced by cybernetics, along with one of his arms. The neimoidian who stood over him offered him a simple deal. He would work for Nok for one decade in payment for the cybernetic upgrades or Nok would shut them off. If he was found wanting, Nok would move on to a new candidate and find another way to recoup his investment in the old pirate. If he excelled, he’d receive a portion of the profits in payment. Not seeing any other options, Jaden agreed. Fortunately for Jaden, after a lifetime in trenches and spaceways, Nok’s “corporate” work was a relaxing change of pace. Captain Jorus’ rough and dirty style easily bullied Nok’s more civilized targets, and most of the jobs were already half done when Jaden got involved thanks to the neimoidian’s planning and connections. Nok began entrusting Captain Jorus with greater and greater responsibilities, eventually hiring him out as a mercenary commander for the myriad private wars in the Outer Rim. His extensive experience served him well, and Jaden got a reputation for competence and professionalism, and most didn’t suspect him of carrying out extra “assignments” for his patron while he was doing his job. Seven of the promised ten years have passed, and Jaden is enjoying the good life for the first time, Nok indulging the veteran’s simple tastes and keeping him out of the line of fire. Though, the threat of shutting down his cybernetics was never rescinded, and Jaden knows what will happen if he goes independent before his contract is up. So when Nok reassigned him to hire on as a mercenary commander for the Sith Empire, the old captain went without a word. Ship / Fleet The Fleet of the Strands, 1st Flotilla Heavy Brawler Escort: Hammer and Anvil Capital Ship Experience: Veteran, 3 XP Composition: Bulwark Mark II Black Bracer -constructed: Hypori Tours of Duty: Defended the kuati shipyards in the Second Battle of Kuat Fought in the Battle of Corellia Description: One of the largest ships employed by the Sith House of Exiles, the Strands, the Black Bracer is a recovered CIS-era warship retrofitted with modern technology and layers of reinforced armor. The crew are traditionally all members of the Starmasters of Varaka, a disgraced cult forced into contracted service by the Strands. Their fervent, and likely erroneous, belief in a promised afterlife at the side of their ancient master pushes them to never retreat until ordered, and so the Black Bracer serves as a willing escort and wall for other ships of the fleet. Destroyer Group (Missiles): Focus Fire Two Cruisers Experience: Veteran, 3 XP Composition: Captor Class heavy munitions Cruiser Moon Beetle -constructed: Balmorra Captor Class heavy munitions Cruiser The Broken Bullet -constructed: Balmorra Tours of Duty: Defended the kuati shipyards in the Second Battle of Kuat Fought in the Battle of Corellia Description: A pair of sister ships commissioned near the end of the Clone Wars, the two cruisers were passed around the Outer Rim as a set, modified repeatedly by new owners for new work. Eventually, they came into the hands of the Strands and were given to the Starmasters, who turned the expansive hangars of the vessels into missile batteries. Crewed mostly by conscripts and slaves, the two ship crews have developed a friendly rivalry, and have been used by the Starmasters to subjugate small space stations and asteroid bases in the name of the Sith Empire. Covert Strike Force: Silent Hunters One Stealth Cruiser - Ammo: [High Yield, Slow Mover] [Droid Piloted Stealth Torpedo] Experience: Veteran, 4 XP Composition: Nova-class Battle Cruiser Our Velvet Ire Captain Zyro -constructed: Hapes Tours of Duty: Defended the kuati shipyards in the Second Battle of Kuat Fought in the Battle of Corellia Fought in the Battle of Fondor Description: Contributed by the Sable Weave, the council leaders of the Strands, Our Velvet Ire is a remnant of the House leaders’ origin as an assassin cult. Outfitted with sensor scramblers and stealth armor, the ship is designed to line up the most advantageous attack vector possible and unleash a barrage before the enemy knows they’re there. It’s currently crewed by the Abyssin Captain Zyro and his raiders, a band of pirates captured in Sith space and sentenced to death before the Sable Weave interceded on their behalf. Why they did this is still unknown, even to Zyro. Assault Lance [Kinetic Ram]: Juggernaut Capital Ship Experience: Green, 1 XP Composition: MC80a Star Cruiser The Prodigious -constructed: Mon Calamari Tours of Duty: Fought at the Battle of Fondor (destroyed) Description: The first ship produced for the Sith Empire by Mon Calamari Shipyards after the planetary takeover, The Prodigious was not originally constructed as a warship but as a passenger liner. With the galaxy in such a state of unrest, the Shipyard executive board originally decided to construct the ship as a way to guarantee safe passage through pirate-infested space lanes. The ship was nearing completion when Mon Calamari fell to the Sith Empire, and while it lacked the weaponry to function as a traditional ship-of-the-line, the newly Sith-controlled executive board took advantage of the ship’s solid construction and shielding to convert the vessel into a battle ram. Now crewed with droids, mercenaries, and convicts, the ship acts as a near literal spearhead for the Sith naval forces. Combat Air Patrol Carrier: No Fly Zone |Sergeti| One Cruiser Two Frigates Two Corvettes Experience: Green, 1 XP Composition: Lucrehulk Control Core (LH-1740) Eye of Opulence -constructed: Neimoidia X2 MC30c frigates Tidewalker and Blue Horizon -constructed: Mon Calamari X2 Thranta-class corvettes Dawn Sentry and Winning Hand -constructed: Corellia Tours of Duty: Fought at the Battle of Fondor (destroyed) Description: A conglomeration of ships assembled personally by Nok Morliss. The Core ship Eye of Opulence was a Clone Wars-era wreck absorbed by the mogul during a hostile business takeover with a neimoidian finance agency. Once Nok was on the executive board for Mon Calamari Shipyards, he tasked company resources to repair and retrofit the ship to make it battle ready. It mostly serves as hangar space and launching bay for retrofitted droid starfighters. The MC30c frigates were originally security vessels for the Shipyards that never made it out of their berths during the Sith invasion, and the corvettes were raided from rebel forces attempting to start an insurrection on Mon Calamari. Not trusting the planetary populace, all ships are currently crewed by droids. Artillery Battery[Incendiary] (Artillery Cruiser with support): Long Range War Crime One Artillery Cruiser Two Corvettes Experience: Green, 1 XP Composition: X1 MC140 Scythe-class main battle cruiser Divine Wrath -constructed: Mon Calamari X2 Tartan-class Patrol Cruisers Dawngate and Rusted Hawkbat -constructed: Kuat Tours of Duty: Description: The first of a trio of ships constructed on the orders of Krath Apothos, the Divine Wrath was heavily modified from its base design. The ship's normal armament of proton launch tubes were redesigned to accommodate the launching of carrier pods over great distances, bearing antique buzz droids and explosives. The pods explode on contact, and the scattered buzz droids then work to devour the damaged ship, programmed to worsen existing damage and cut into structural weak points. The ship is crewed by a portion of the captured Mon Calamari Defense Fleet, caught in an attempted insurrection when they attacked and failed to bomb the Shipyards. They have had their arms and legs surgically removed, and are permanently linked directly to the ship's control systems through cybernetic implants. Droid "caretakers" programmed with compliance and interrogation protocols ensure compliance among the crew. The Divine Wrath's escort ships are old patrol corvettes purchased from Kuat, repurposed and crewed only by a pair of controlling droid brains. Their simple intelligences are sufficient enough for the ships to sacrifice themselves to preserve their ward. Artillery Battery[Gravity Crusher] (Artillery Cruiser with support): Maelstrom One Artillery Cruiser Two Corvettes Experience: Green, 1 XP Composition: X1 MC140 Scythe-class main battle cruiser Divine Judgment -constructed: Mon Calamari X2 Tartan-class Patrol Cruisers Steeleye and Gavel -constructed: Kuat Tours of Duty: Description: The second of a trio of ships constructed on the orders of Krath Apothos, the Divine Judgment is an experiment in recreating ancient Sith superweapons. While not a technical success, the gravitation flux shells created (based on ancient designs for a Sith gravitational planet cracker) serve as effective artillery shots, temporarily increasing gravity in the area of detonation and causing sudden and incredible stress on the hull of any ship unfortunate enough to be struck. Much like the Divine Wrath, the Divine Judgment is crewed by captured, traitorous Mon Calamari pilots who have been cybernetically fused to the ship they now crew. Subjected to regular torture and brainwashing, no discipline problems have yet cropped up. The Divine Judgment's escort ships are old patrol corvettes purchased from Kuat, repurposed and crewed only by a pair of controlling droid brains. Their simple intelligences are sufficient enough for the ships to sacrifice themselves to preserve their ward. Artillery Battery[Beam Cutter] (Artillery Cruiser with support): Determined Destruction One Artillery Cruiser Two Corvettes Experience: Green, 1 XP Composition: X1 MC140 Scythe-class main battle cruiser Divine Edict -constructed: Mon Calamari X2 Tartan-class Patrol Cruisers Au'loa and Mavenhall -constructed: Kuat Tours of Duty: Description: The last of the experimental ships constructed in Mon Calamari shipyards for Krath Apothos' project, the Divine Edict's armament has been replaced with a complex focusing and emitter array, reminiscent of experimental tech from the Imperial-era. Combined with the additional, heavy duty generators installed throughout its structure, and the energy beam the Divine Edict generates far exceeds expectations for a ship of its size. Once again, cybernetically slaved traitors serve as the ship's crew. Notably less are used here than in the artillery cruiser's two sister ships, due to the ship's powerful but simple weapon design. The Divine Edict's escort ships are old patrol corvettes purchased from Kuat, repurposed and crewed only by a pair of controlling droid brains. Their simple intelligences are sufficient enough for the ships to sacrifice themselves to preserve their ward.

The ruins of Malachor V: The Bleeding Edge dropped out of hyperspace, the space yacht a gleaming, pristine contradiction to the rubble orbiting the void that had once been a planet. "Sir, gravitational anomalies detected," the pilot said. "How should we proceed?" The droid waited for several moments, but no answer came. "Sir?" Nok hands gripped the back of the pilots chair, his breathing coming in great puffs. His skin was a paler shade of green then it had been in months, almost completely gray, and the throbbing behind his bandaged eyes was...indescribable. Nok gritted his teeth and struggled to focus, but it was like he was tumbling on the surface of a stormy sea. This place...it was as if he was staring into a hole in the universe. The Dark Side radiated out in a maelstrom that threatened to tear through Nok's paper-thin mind every second he looked at it. And he couldn't stop looking. It was everywhere. The whisper was soft at first. But it grew louder and louder until Nok couldn't think of anything else. And then he couldn't think at all. Dead in the cold and dark. Dead in the cold and dark. Dead in the cold and dark. Dead in the cold and dark. Dead in the cold and dark. DEAD IN THE COLD AND DARK! "Gaaaagh!" Nok screamed, his own voice barely an echo behind the thunder of the currents rushing through his mind. Focus. Need to focus! Find something to focus on! "Sir, is everything alright? Should I get the medi-" The unfortunate pilot droid's tinny voice hooked Nok's mind like a fish, and he pulled. His hand snapped out and grasped the battle droid's head. The droid's cry of surprise was drowned out as Nok screamed out a jumble of words. "Won pro kinta gelezis griebti!" Nok's will poured through the working and into the droid, and for a moment there was nothing but Nok and the machine. In that moment of clarity, Nok's thought and purpose rang out clearly through the connection. BE...QUIET The droid fell silent. It was not obeying, not exactly. It had no choice at all. Nok's will was made manifest in the simple mechanical mind. Code shifted and commands sprung from electrostatic noise to carry out the magic of Nok's working, and the droid's very core for that split second existed only to carry out the purpose imposed on it by sorcery. Nok breathed. Slowly and deeply, he breathed until he got his bearings. The torrent of power outside, that hole in the Force, was still there, but now Nok could brace himself agaisnt it, the way a man might lean into the wind to keep it from knocking him down. "Alert..." he paused and shook his head to clear it, "alert me when the others arrive." The droid was silent for a moment, before tentatively responding. "Yes...sir." It sounded almost surprised that it could still speak, and Nok was mildly surprised himself. It was to be expected he supposed. He had nowhere the skill to impose any kind of permanent command over a machine, even a simple droid like this one.

"Alright boys," Jorus called out into the comm, "pull on back. We're leaving." Grinning, Jorus leaned down on the joystick of his AEG-77 VIGO gunship and dropped down to just above the moon's surface before rocketing along the dusty ground. This close, the ship's passing kicked up a huge trail of thick dust, and security forces scattered as the ship barreled past their barricades with only feet to spare. Licking his lips, Jorus eased the joystick gently back and forth, just dodging each pile of empty crates and clusuter of out-buildings. One advantage to a mechanical arm...precision flying. Jorus whipped the ship around and came back for another pass, but knew they had to move. If the Naboo royal space fighters didn't show up soon, the miners were liable to whip out whatever heavy armaments they had to deal with pirates like these. Turbolaser turrets, rapid deploy mines... Out of the corner of his eye as he sped past, Jorus caught a glimpse of a long metal tube being set on a shoulder. Rockets. Rockets were also a possibility. "Everybody move fast! And get those shields up before you take off! They've got rockets, don't know how many!" Jorus grimaced and whipped around again, this time laying down laser fire. the AEG-77 VIGO was a big ship compared to the little fighters a base like this might normally see, so it could take a hit or two. Better him than the spice. Or the explosives. An explosion that sent shudders through his craft told him he'd hit something that went boom on the last barricade he'd passed over. Two more booms that rattled his teeth told him he'd gotten their attention. He cut to the right and caught sight of a streaking pill of light shoot past him and explode a few yards off the port wing. Another rattling crash from underneath signaled a direct hit, and the blue shield monitor suddenly had a lot more red on the screen. "We're ready commander! All ships taking off!" Jorus grimaced and pulled around for one more run. He had to keep the security forces' attention. Blaster fire and rockets crisscrossed the starry sky as Jorus blasted away two more barricades, sending men in uniform tumbling across the moon's surface in various states of char. "We're away sir! We're away!" Jorus pulled up on the joystick and the ship followed his lead, though sluggishly. He'd need to recalibrate the engine after a shakeup like this. Fortunately, the engines still worked fine. Within seconds Jorus was rocketing into the night sky and out of range.

Nok steepled his fingers as he listened to Jorus's message again. This new information changed things. Blimp's moving fast. Focused. The man isnt looking to shoot his feelings away, this is deep. Personal. He wants revenge. Nok leaned back, sinking into the plush seat as he thought through the possibilities. This presents...potential. Nok stood up and briskly walked out of his office. "Ready my ship," he muttered. "Full security detail, only droids, freshly wiped." His secretary droid immediately broke off and began humming and beeping softly as it sent out the half dozen security measures and checks programmed to precede such an order. "Bring the texts I've been studying as well." He smiled as he kept walking. "Time for some hands on practice."

"Gyeaaaagh!" Jorus grimaced as one of his men went down. The comm crackled before fading back into the sounds of muffled shouting and blaster fire. He must have fallen on the comm button. Gut wound from the sounds of it. He wondered for a second what it said about him that he could tell as he cut the channel from the general feed. "Sir!" This voice, a hint of hysteria creeping in, Jorus knew but couldn't place. One of the newer recruits then. "Hold the line! Keep making a show, that troig is almost done." He snapped his fingers as he placed the voice. Borbo Gil, a freighter/smuggler Nok had picked up from a gutted mining venture. Ugly business, lots of dead miners. "Dont lose your mettle because of one dropped man!" "What? No, sir, that's not it! I can see Blimp's crew now, and they've got baradium bisulfate! Kriffing crates of the stuff!" Jorus was to hard boiled and tough to waver over a few explosives. He did, however, check the ship's altimeter and ease it up a few meters. Standard precaution. That was all. "Hold position anyway, and for the love of everything dont shoot near the stuff." Jorus opened a panel in his arm and keyed in a code. The ship beeped in response, and the words "Encryption enabled" flashed across the screen. A few more key presses, and the ship was recording. "Boss, Blimp's stealing more than spice. Looks like baradium bisulfate. Lots of it, enough to leave this place a crater. I'll get you details but...this ain't the kind of thing you hunt down to sell, and if he plans on using it I dont wanna be nearby when he does." With one more key press, the recording was being broadcast on a subspace transmission to Mon Calamari. ______________________________ Down below, the fighting intensified as the security forces got organized and pushed back. Jorus's goons tenaciously stood their ground behind crates, firing back without any real desire to hit. Stall and distract...

"Alright, we want this fast. Naboo build their fighters pretty and fast, and I don't intend to get shot out of the sky by a showpiece." Jorus's ships swooped down over the moon's surface, rapidly decelerating to land in around the mine like flies on a carcass. Rough looking thugs and mercenaries trickled out in twos and threes, setting up behind cover and opening fire. Per orders, they weren't aiming for anything, just establishing their presence to get the any workers to clear the area and draw the guards into defensive positions for Blimp and his squads to crack.

Jorus stared off into nothing, drawing deep puffs on his cigarra. "I don't know. I've been doing this so long...I just figure my number's going to come up sooner or later right?" Then he grinned. "On the other hand, not like I've got anything better to do, and if that spice jacking keeps me in the creds than maybe you've got something." He turned to Blimp. "Let's survive this venture first though. A lot of questions we gotta answer between here and there."

Jorus laughed. No light chuckle, but a real guffaw that broke off into a coughing fit as the smoke from the cigarra was inhaled too fast. "Not exactly what he's got over my head so much as in my chest," he said, wiping the tears from his eyes. "While back...about 7 years now I think...I had my first run in with Morliss. He was an arms dealer back then. Probably a bunch of other things too. Anyway, old customer of his had tracked him down, hid on my ship, and decided to take her personal issues out on both of us by...well, like I said...arms dealer." Jorus took out the cigarra and tapped the end against his cybernetic arm, ash sprinkling to the ground. "I guess I should be thankful I insisted on seeing payment upfront before turning over the real big boys. She was an amatuer, and my ship absorbed most of the blast. Even so, we were both messed up pretty bad. Should have died. Both of us should have. But the filthy rich bugger had a surgical droid on standby on his ship. Dragged us both in, and kept us alive." He licked his lips, then lifted his cigarra back to them. One puff, two puffs, then he continued. "It was supposed to keep its master alive at all costs. None of those moral restrictions you see in standard models. It kept me alive in case it needed spare materials. Well, once the bugger woke up, he must have ordered it to repair me too, because next thing I know I'm waking up on a bed with a new arm and a lot of whirring and beeping coming from in here," he said wryly, tapping his chest. "Near as I figure, I've got 40% of my insides replaced with cybernetics, and I doubt everything was nonfunctional when Morliss had his droid cut it out of me. Morliss told me I owed him for saving my life...never mind that it was a grudge against him that got me blown up in the first place. He gave me a choice. Ten years service...or he'd take the replacements back there and then." Jorus grinned around the cigarra. "Can't say I was happy with my new employment, but I plastered on a happy face and took the option that kept me breathing. Been working for him ever since. He pays well, keeps me in comfort when I'm not slogging through the mud for him." Jorus shook his head. "But don't be fooled. I'm an investment to him. Honoring our deal? An investment. My comfort? Investment. He wants me telling people that he's a boss who takes care of people and keeps his word. That way he can con them easier." Jorus turned to face Blimp straight on. "Don't trust him. You see an ounce of sentimentality or softness, you take that for the lie it is. Nok only cares about himself, acts out whatever part he needs to in order to get what he wants, and he's more than a little mad. Especially since he started with this dark hand waving stuff." Squinting upwards into the sky, Jorus paused, then sighed. "As for me...I've been slogging through from day to day since I learned to walk. I'm too old to start having a life now. My plan is to finish out this contract, hope Nok doesn't die before giving me whatever code he's got to keep me running and let people tamper with my parts, and retire someplace nice and warm. Have some quiet." He grinned wickedly. "But that don't mean I don't want some noise to remember."

Jorus stared for a moment. Then he smiled. Then he laughed. Life lit up the old spacer's face. "You mad pirate, I've missed men like you! That blind insect whose got my heart on a remote control always has to circle a plate six times before he decides to sit down for dinner. But this...let's do it." He chomped down on a new cigarra and set it alight with a built in gadget in his arm. He proffered another to the spicejacker. "Let's burn the stars." _____________________ Jorus's ragtag band of ships, refueled, repaired, and rearmed, lifted off, and made the jump to hyperspace.

Across the encrypted channels frequented by criminals, contractors, and hitmen, a new bounty began circulating. Wanted: Jedi Knight Leena Kil Condition: Alive. Mental capabilities intact. Reward: 2,500,000 credits, paid in unmarked nova crystals or chromium per user preference. Additional information: Target is a Mon Calamari last seen on Chandrila. Philanthropist, moralist, and medical expert. Dangerous. Deliver subject to Mon Calamari. Contact comm channel 4XX7689-7 with proof of capture.

Nok slammed his fists onto the table, sending half-a-dozen gadgets skittering. Still nothing! Over and over Nok had cast this simple incantation. And every time...nothing! "Master Morliss, would you like me to reread the-" With a scream, Nok tore the servant droid apart, the Force manifesting his rage as it scattered Nok's property across the room in a spray of hot oil. Nok had heard the passages. Hundreds of times. He could quote them flawlessly. His hands were stiff from repeating the same arcane gestures for the last four hours. His voice cracked now, having both whispered and shouted the incantation again and again. "What...am...I...MISSING!?!" Mechu-deru. The art of manipulating technology through the Force. Nok wondered not for the first time if the problem was with him, not his technique. Maybe he lacked the talent for sorcery. Gritting his teeth, he raised his hands again...then lowered them. He was tired. He was so tired. "...sir?" The tinny, distorted voice of the servant droid broke the silence tentatively. The wreck was actually still functioning. "What is it?" Nok asked, despondent. "I am programmed to remind you of the opera tonight." Nok rubbed his temples. "Opera?" "Yes sir. The city hosts an annual opera performance of Brothers in the Deep. It's a story meant to symbolize the development of Mon Calamari society." "Cancel. I'm not up for some self gratifying symbolic nonsense." Nok froze. Symbolic. His mind raced. He'd been thinking of sorcery as control through comprehension, with passion as the exciting force. "But comprehension could never be perfect enough for a conscious mind to exert control," he said, voice rapid. "Sorcery needs a filter...an adapter. It's not about understanding, it's about perception. It's about will!" Nok slammed his hand against the table, the pain illuminating it for him. He "saw" the nearest gadget, a comm link, and once more he performed the simple incantation. But this time, instead of trying to picture the devices code and parts, he imagined the device for what it represented. And he saw it. The feeling was faint, but growing stronger. Nok could sense the device's presence, its functions and untapped energy. He took the feeling and expanded it, and the table lit up as each bit of tech entered his field of attention. "Now...that is something."

Jorus had a brief moment to check on his compatriot as his ship passed through the corona of a fiery enemy ship. "Is that nut going into hyperspace with a full train of freighters in the middle of a fight!? A half mad troig, and it's the sane head they blow away." The escort ships were fighting for their lives with every ounce of ingenuity, skill, and adrenaline fueled desperation they had, but simple math was eating at their numbers. Jorus's ships were pinning them down one after another and tearing them apart. Lured away from the freighters, they couldn't be used for cover and Jorus's forces had room to maneuver. The proximity alarm blared. "Blimp, looks like the people planetside noticed were here. You've got boarders incoming." The starfighters opened fire. "Belay that, you've got gunners incoming. Looks like someone wants to send a message. I recommend you hurry. We'll do our best to draw them off." Another deadly volley criss crossed the void as Jorus left his ships to finish off the escort while he flew to aid Blimp's ships. "Just a reminder. Hurry."

"Understood," Jorus responded. "We've got things under control out here." He looked up as the fighters, realizing their wards had been boarded in their absence, began curving around to return and run off Blimp's ships. "And this is why it pays to think ahead." He keyed his comm. "One through four, hook and shoot. Five through eight, follow on my tail, we're going to get distracting." The first four scout ships into the fray fired their retrorockets again, but only one side, straining their ships again as they flipped 180 degrees to point their bows directly at the fighters retreating from them. Blasters lit up as they opened fire on the fighters. The escort craft, to their credit, responded quickly, rolling and juking to avoid the sudden fusillade. Only a few glancing blows struck shields, but the situation had changed yet again. Now it was a proper and fair dogfight, and Jorus hated fair fights. Four skiprays flew in formation next to his own AEG-77 VIGO gunship as they lined up an attack run on the nearest cluster of escort fighters forming up. A malicious grin split the old spacer's face as he pressed down on the joystick trigger and sent photonic death arcing towards the enemy. "Yeehaw!" his voice crackled over the radio waves.