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CORE Agent(s)

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  1. The figure at the end examines the DNA. "This is most... excellent... We'll be having some more samples arrive soon. I will have them delivered on Ryloth at once..." They were actually samples kept in storage that the cabal's headquarters, but what the operative didn't know wouldn't hurt him. "I think our leader might be interested in sharing some of our other findings with you. We have some truly delicious DNA samples on the way and some other technology you might like..."
  2. The three stare silently at the man, looking at him and giving a fixed glare, then down at the datapad. Slowly, the leader slides forward a datapad of his own, showing a rather wide array of forcing using DNA samples from species across the galaxy, as well as a select few force users from the Jedi and Sith such as Taren and Taren the Terror, Lei Kim Ness and Darth Ness, Sly Stevenson, and the current Dark Lord, Raynuk Montar. Furthermore, it appears at one point Kamino's cloning labs were raided, containing the DNA from some minor Jedi from ages back that were collected by the Empire and left in storage. "I think we can agree to that," they say as one in an eerie, confident fashion. The tallest of the three snaps his fingers and out of the table in front of the man several small vials arise. "Inside the vials, you will find adiquate DNA for what your employer needs. You may deliver your own samples here at your earliest convenience."
  3. The large manor house the figure arrived at sat in its quiet dignity with its overgrown lawn, shut in and boarded up windows, far apart from its better kept fellows. When the man arrived, the door opened, then shut behind him of its own accord. Despite the delapidated appearance of the house on the outside, the foyer with in is very well furnished. Meeting him are three figures in black cloaks and hoods. They gesture to a dining hall where in it looks like a holographic projector is set up. The paneled walls slide back, revealing screens and monitors. Despite the three men in the black cloak being his only visible hosts, the man from Ryloth is given the distinct impression that there are many more people in this building. Taking a seat at the head of the table, the smallest of the three speaks out, getting to the point. "What kind of samples did you bring us and what kinds of samples do you need from us?"
  4. The only thing the scans on the force sensitives reveal is a trace level of nanites with in the individual force users, embedded into the blood stream and clinging to their higher than normal level midi-chloriens that mark them from non force user. Individually and with in each subject, the nanites appear to be doing nothing, just being trace materials from their previous bout of captivity.
  5. The agent grins, showing off a large number of teeth. "That can be arranged. Send someone you trust to this location on Corellia." An address is shown in the middle of Coronet, leading to a high end residential district. "We will be in touch." With that, the group exits, dispearsing back into the streets of Ryloth.
  6. The lead laughs. "Operative Beta would delight in working with your employer. He has done enough experiments on their kind that death is considered a sweet release by the time he is finished. As it is," he slides a single account number forward, nominally registered to a spice dealre on Coruscant, "my employer shares your views. He wishes to collect their DNA samples for a project he has that will shape the galaxy when it is finished. That time is almost upon us too. He can offer you credits, and information to further your studies. As for the names of the people who employ us," the grey skinned man laughs. "I do not think it necessary at this point in time."
  7. Upon hearing the news of the general bounty on force users, several black cloaked individuals. They make their way through the streets with a military bearing. Behind them are several figures lead in a chain gain through the streets. A few are humans, many are not, showing a veritable menagerie of species from across the known galaxy and beyond. They reach the point offered by the new bounty. Their leader, a thick skinned alien with a craggly grey hide, pulls back his black hood, the other clutched tightly around a force pike. The half dozen men behind him hold a variety of weapons, all vaguely outlined under their cloaks. "We bring in a half dozen Force-sensitives we have collected through our travels." The leader's voice is deep and booming. "We know the bounty did not ask for them explicitly, but," he adds with a grin, "given your general aims, we would think your interest in stopping these deadly flowers before they bloom would be with in your employer's aims. We want 25,000 a head per sensitive for a total of 400,000 credits for all 16. After that, they are yours to do with as you please." One of the captives wimpers, but it silenced with a blow from a stun batton. The others, broken, look resigned to their fates. "In addition, our employers wish to know more about your own employers motives in this hunt for possible business in the future. Those are our terms. Take them, or leave them."
  8. In space, the Corellian Corvette Oberon drifts through space, brooding through the stars and concerned with its own nefarious business. Two figures, wearing the red uniforms of CORE's elite agent troops and the designations Omicron and Beta whisper among themselves, discussing their latest intelligence reports. "... so we brought out the remaining shares in the new company. Hopefully that will give us some leverage when the time is right to make our move. I think the time for the completion of our project is almost at hand." The one known as Beta, a sickly, pale figure, gives a short nod, then opens the door to what appears to be a command room. The room inside is dark and a massive hologram lights up the entire chamber, showing the entire known galaxy, newer regions, and a rather large area from outside. In the middle stands a man in black, his back turned to the door. Next to him is a towering, green skinned lizard like behemoth, also in red uniform, though he carries what appears to be two double sided lightsabers. "Report," orders the man in black, studying the star map. The two nod and begin to orally recite the important news as the two report in tandem. "... and we have gathered much of the DNA that we need. Now we just need a few missing pieces and-" Omicron's comm lights up, which in turn triggers a response from the great map, narrowing on a small system in the galaxy, showing what appears to be a watery planet drowned in darkness. "Sir! It looks as if someone's tried approaching the planet M-" "I can see that," the CORE leader replies softly, obviously watching the events on his map. "Not many people know what lies there, do they? Or what dark powers lay submerged in that cursed sphere..." there's a hint of bitterness in the voice. "We almost had what we wanted, and the galaxy might have been ours then and there. But the flood came, for that planet is always hungry. The taint of the Dantooine butchers sways heavily over the planet... so much so that even we cannot penetrate that darkness, even to take what is ours..." the Director's voice trails off, its owner lost in thought. There's a heavy silence and a long pause, each of the three considering this matter from all angles. "Your orders, sir?" Beta asks finally, his voice trembling. "We wait, and continue watching. We need the technology that was buried there, not its ghosts, even if those spirits are potent enough to rip this galaxy assunder. There is more at work here than meets the eye if the force storm is accepting them." There is a moment of uncertaintly even if the iron voice of Rinwald Adolfus Dahlmiester, Director of CORE and one who nearly conquered the galaxy ages ago. "Let the Sith make their move, and let us then see what happens. We need to get an extraction team in soon, but not until we have... cover... from outside. Dismissed."
  9. Amid the usual chatter and drinking befitting the cantina at its face value, many patrons as of yet unaware of the new change in management, a lone, non-descript alien, with light fur over its green skin and seven fingers on its hands, approaches the stage and in the usual custom, beings performing. Its instrument looks vaguely like a saxophone, though the two additional openings, as well as additional valves for the alien player's increased dexterity mark this electronic brass apart. The melody is low and dark, though with a soft overtone, sinking perfectly into the background of the cantina. Slowly though, using subsonic and supersonic frequencies, more than a simple melody begins to take shape. It by-passes the regular patrons, even those with augmented hearing, but sounds very clearly in the aural receptors in Piccolo's massive body. Curiously, and perhaps accidentally, it also resonnates with Geki as well, though neither are able to pinpoint its source. The message however is clear, and the voice behind it is unforgettable. I find your lack of progress disturbing, given the time you've had to amass your forces and assemble the lost technology. The interest on your debt grows for our generous services. We expect results in your cleansing of this galaxy, Master Piccolo, and time is slipping away. Dahlmiester's voice echoes in hollow, iron tones, as close as if he stood behind Piccolo himself, though to Geki the voice is far more distant, but still unmistakable. The scene arond the cantina is the same as ever, though one alien, a member of a species with unusually pronounced ears seems to shake his head, having detected the faintest of whisperings, though he was unable to make them out, and goes back to idle chatter with a drinking buddy. The musician continues playing, and when finished with its melody, it packs up its intrument and departs.
  10. The algaeic plague bomb, donated to the Empire some years ago as a gift meant to destabalize Galactic peace to further CORE's own ends runs its course with deadly effeciency. Underwater passages become almost solid as the red soup consumes them, sucking all the oxygen out from the water. Many suffer and wither, drowning. Above the surface, things are less than well as the whole atmosphere begins to deteriorate slightly. Much like HG Wells "War of the Worlds" it looks as if red ferns have popped up, recoloring the planet- yet this is no benign fern, but clumps of lethal plantlife. If clings to structures and bodies, even causing the malfunctioning of key machinery around the planet. After much time elapses and the planet's population dwindles down to a twentieth of what it was, the pre-programmed plague, a hidious machination of CORE Agent Beta, begins to break down. The consumed oxygen is pumped back into the system, along with the other toxins that made up the algae. The damage to the planet's structures and machinery will take months to repair. The populace, only at 5% of what it once was, will be devistated. Though not as swift and sudden of a geusture as the Shield Collapse of Coruscant nor apparently as brutal as Phillep's ordered massacre of all the Wookies of Kashyyyk and razing of their forests, the end effect was no different. Mon Calamari would recover... Eventually...
  11. Red Tide of Death Consumes Mon Calamari Galactic AP Mon Calamari: A mysterious algae plague has descended on Mon Calamari, turning the once pure and blue oceans into a red soup of death. This plague, erupting from an unknown source has expanded rapidly, choking out the planet's oxygen supply both above and below the waves. The death toll is in the millions as this biohazard is set on turning Mon Calamari into a barren, red wasteland. Already passangers are being quarantined to prevent this plague from escaping to other systems. Surprisingly, the hardest hit were off-worlders, particularly the human population which was almost wiped out, though the natives are faring only slightly better. Much of their habitat has been clouded over underwater. Above the surface, the plague has begun overrunning machinery and space craft, cripling it. Efforts to treat this deadly tide have meet with little success, and helplessly, experts can only conclude that it will have to run its course.
  12. ... and after that explosion, the furry bomber ran off sobbing, where he was somehow able to evade authorities. Thankfully no one was hurt and a statement from the owner declared it was "business as usual here." Famed Archaeologist Dissapears Galactic Associated Press CORELLIA: Coronet City University is in an uproar following the dissaperance of famed archeaologist Dr. Grantz Tyrell. Tyrell 46, known for his studies in ancient Corellian substructures- particularly the eldritch planetary repulsors found under Corellia and the other four planets in the system. Tyrell's dissapearance, investigated by Lt. Doppler of CorSec, has raised eyebrows when his research dissapeared with him. Tyrell promised a "marvelous breakthrough on our understanding of Corellia's place in the galaxy," in an unreleaseed paper due at a conference on Coruscant next month. When asked if his research was related to his vanishing, CorSec's response was inconclusive, though they admitted it was a possiblity. For those of you unfamiliar with this, the five planets of the Corellia system are all found to contain subterranian planetary repulsor systems, possibly used in conjunction with the infamous Centerpoint Station to move the planets of the Corellia system into its current position. Tyrell was last seen leaving his office at around 11 PM two days ago. When he failed to make it home the next morning, his wife, Alisia, contacted CorSec in regards to this matter. The fact his research dissapeared too alerted authorities to the possibility of foul play, but there is no evidence of struggle or otherwise, giving the impression, he "just upped and vanished." Family and friends are consoling Alisia and her two daughters, aged 18 and 11 and there is a vigil being held at the university hoping for the professor's safe return. CorSec's investigation is on going, but admittedly has no leads in this case. Celebrity Sabacc Finals Begin CORUSCANT: Galactic stars, including famed...
  13. Omega lets out an angry hiss, faltering at this unexpected line of attack. Indeed, Omega's controller, watching from some unseen point, realizes the potential in Geki's attack- Omega a biological nightmare created by bio engineering and modified on a cellular level by nanotech was potentially vulnerable on that level. CORE, immersed in nanotech for its own ends and devices had one of its ultimate weapons utterly vulnerable to it? Inconceivable! Omega's response is much more pragmatic and would ally Rinwald's fears. Springing up and aside from Geki's attack with a force enhanced leap, Omega flips into the air, grabbing onto a crystaline chandiler overhead with his claw like feet (hands). The creature's body crackles with intense force lightning, frying the circutry on the assaulting nanites and shorting out the chandiler overhead. The delicate crystals shatter and snap, breaking with loud tingling cracks. Loose from the chandiler, Omega dives back down towards the floor, sabers extended in a semi wide, though mostly protective arc, body set in another fleche towards Geki. Omega's eyes blaze with light and the shattered, piercing quartz crystals hold in mid air for a half second, then shoot past the falling monster in a deadly barrage of dozens of broken pieces- each speeding down with enough momentum to tear through soft flesh like a knife through butter.
  14. Behind Geki the vast double doors snap shut and behind them a metalic grating sound is heard, like a portculus lowering. A deep, refined, voice echoes through the grand foyer, bouncing off the marble fixtures. Descending down a grand staircase is a single figure in a crimson CORE uniform, offsetting the green, reptillian features of its face. The voice, absolute in its confidence and precision, does not come from the advancing agent, but some unseen speaker set. That voice is somehow familiar to Geki, having heard it at least once or twice before. My apologies, Governor Geki, but having requested your services, I feel a small test is in order. My servant, Omega, has volunteered to conduct this trial. If you can survive, I will have full confidence in your skills for the task before us. At that, the great rushing sound is heard as Omega bares forth his two, clawed, yet full, hands. The massive onset of a dozen hammer blows assails Geki, throwing him back against the door with a resounding, hard, crack. Two nightmarish yellow reptillian eyes, crackling with blue energy widen on the creature called Omega as twin double bladed lightsabers spring to life- one in each hand. The creature springs off its powerful legs (or are they arms used as legs?) and flies across the room, sabers extended in a deadly fleche capable of rending apart anything it connects with.
  15. The large manor house sits, there, with its overgrown lawn, shut in windows. It carries a large, though whistful air about it, reminiscent of former glories and life. For some time, nothing can be heard, save the soft breeze blowing in over Coreillia's green fields. Then out of the blue, with a slow, audible creek, the manor house's front doors open up on their own accord. Though the interior is dim, the mansion's interior looks scrupiously clean and furbished. Like many things, the outside, run down, delapidated, and in apparent need of repairs, was only a feint, a faccade. A powerful voice, almost reptilian, reverberates in Geki's head, blowing out of the manor's front doors. The wind picks up and all sound around him from the birds and beasts of the planet drop to a sudden stand sitll. If you wish to hear us out, come inside. Do not be afraid, for fortune favors the bold. The voice passes, but the air has dropped two degrees. The mansion now appears cold and threatening, but with a still strangely compelling pull to it.
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