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Aaris III


Tarrian Skywalker

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"Yes, it's remarkable, to say the least. I just wish they are this fearless when fighting an actual Sith."

 

- He leaned a tad bit to the right of the wall, still regaining some of his strength through the Force. Any of the slight burns and cut presented from the blaster fire were already nulled by the presence of Force healing circulating through his body; all what was left was the remainants of the tattered clothing, an aspect he wished the healing could mend cloth as well as wounds. -

 

- A sigh drew from his lips, as he now gazed out at the groups that formed. It was interesting to see who chose who in groups, reminding the young man of his younger years in schooling. It had been very long since he dwelled on the topic, unsure what feelings might stir because of it. -

 

- Sabian drew his mind into the clear and away from any obstacles that came with the dangerous thought. Just as easily as it came in, it was shut out. Physically, both eyes even squinted, dealing with the brief process before relinquishing back into a more calm and neutral person. -

 

- Continuing to stray away from the past, he stayed with the present; continuing to stare out into the training room while close to Onderin. In a rather placid and still voice, the young man commented.. -

 

"This may not the only way to deal with the Sith, y'know.."

 

- Sabian's voice got eerely serious, softer, and lower in tone afterwards.. -

 

"They can be turned to the light.. I know it-- I've done it.

 

..You must promise me, Onderin, that these men will only attack Sith that have delibratly given up on the oppertunity to be good. I don't want anymore innocent people dying in this crazy game between us."

 

- He leaned up against the wall like an old man, eyes partly glazed as he watched the men continue to progress through the training regament. Sabian remained perfectly still, alittle shocked that he said such a thing, but felt releaved for doing so at the same time. -

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Mandalore hurried to the turbolift, dragging his hovercart behind him. As it rose up the lift shaft the sounds of battle caught his attention. He immediately changed the floor designation from the third floor to the second. The doors opened up with the slightly muffled sounds of dozens of blaster rifles rapidly firing. He pushed his hovercart out of the walkway leading to the turbolift, then proceeded to walk down the hall towards the source of the blaster fire. The sounds of battle echoed down the narrow hallway. The first room he approached had the two other Death Striker members running a random combat scenario. There was a familiar face among them on the holo-viewer. One he hadn't seen since his days with the Black Sun, though his name eluded him. From the looks of it, they had the situation well under control.

 

The second training room was the source of Mandalore's sidetrip. As he brought up the holo-viewer display, bright flashes distorted the initial image feed only showing a white out effect. He switched to another viewer that was higher up and at the rear of the training room, giving him a bird's eye view of the action. The alliance soldiers were huddled together laying down a constant fire storm of energy bolts directed at the Jedi at the far end of the room. The Jedi delfected most of the bolts, with the occasional stray barely missing his agile form. Mandalore watched as the soldiers increased their rate of fire causing the Jedi to respond with reflexes that were hard to track due to his inhuman speed. Even though they were traing Mandalore wondered why the Jedi didn't return the bolts in the soldier's direction the way a Sith would in a real confronatation?

 

He glanced down at his watche noting that 45 minutes had passed he had left to store his belongings in his room and have that sit down with the commander. He walked quickly down the hallway retrieving his hovercart, then boarding the turbolift to the third floor. He found a room at the end of the hallway that had adequate space for his belongings, then ran back to the turbolift now heading to the fourth floor of the base. Mandalore stepped off the turbolift, scanning the room from left to right, until his eyes finally locked onto his commander. The layout of the control room reminded him of the old setup he had at CorSec.

 

"Thank you for seeing me commander. I just wanted to find out some things about the history of the Death Strikers. I would like know who are our primary enemies? The second thing is, I would like to know what our next move is?"

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War is cruelty. There's no use trying to reform it, the crueler it is the sooner it will be over.

--William Tecumseh Sherman--

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Onderin nodded solemnly. "While it is always better to convert a Sith Lord than slay one, not all are as lost as the ones that are turned. Some must be killed, and most of what these troops will be doing is in direct defense of the Jedi Temples, if I understand it correctly," he said. "I've said it before: there is no good in war, but there is good in why we fight them. The Sith must be put down, and this is our means of doing so."

 

The Admiral folded his arms again. It really was a sight, watching the troops converse and discuss tactics with each other. Already a few were lined up, firing at holographic targets with low-power blaster bolts. Not all their shots were right on the mark, but not all their shots were intended to be. As Onderin had suggested, firing quadrants were assigned.

 

All the troops made use of their tactical displays on their gloves. It helped them chose and concentrate on a single target--usually the one of the most threat to them--but one man, the squad leader, was the final one to decide who to attack.

 

"There's one more thing I think these troops need," Onderin said to his apprentice. "As far as I'm aware, the Black Sun is in control of Artus. Our relations with them have taken positive steps recently, but we never pursued anything. If it's possible, I'd like to pay them a visit and purchase a large amount of cortosis ore. If we can armor these men in cortosis, they will be far more effective against Sith."

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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"Whatever you deem as necessary, Admiral."

 

- It was the first time he had really referred his own Master in such a way, both in word and in tone. The young man's voice was distant, traced with bits of unresolve. It was part of him that urged to see the other side of things, even if they be deemed dark and dangerous. If he did not tread upon the same lifestyle, he would not come in contact with it; only through interpretation. -

 

- It seemed the only right and honorable way to face a foe such as the Sith, but there are always two sides to things. Sabian only hoped that when it came time for the other side, the men would be rightfully prepared to do so by any means necessary. -

 

- Folding his sleeves over his uniform, he looked out at Onderin for a moment; nodding to him before continuing on speaking.. -

 

"I would like to make one last stop before we start heading out.."

 

- The low mood in which he seemed to be turned to took a small, lighter turn for the better. Reaching into his youthful ways and expressions, he opened his sleeves to reveal most of the burns and scratches made from the mild blaster fire before. -

 

"..It would be most unwise to be seen like this to the Black Sun. I was thinking of getting a souveiner anyways for this planet."

 

- With that, the hand that opened his sleeve promptly shut it, winking a bit before turning around to the far corridor. He managed to pull a small feint of confidence from his sleeves this time, but the thought still seemed to dwell within him; perhaps for a longer time then predetermined. -

 

Another way.. There has to be a mistake in all this..

 

- Right now, it was not his highest concern. The presence of the Force kept the thought from journeying too far into the reaches of his mind, penetrating the surface, but not enough to hide his true intentions. He must speak with the Commander, even for one last time. -

 

- Her signature was not hard to sense, yet the process in which to get there was most troublesome. Passing by lines of guards, scanners, and questions, it came a bit too much for him. Calmly and passively, the young man arched his hand down to his side, fingers delicately wafting across the still air of the base. -

 

"I will need no furthur verfication, thank you."

 

- Penetrating only indirectly into each guard and operators mind, he merely hurried the process for time was of the essence to him. Granted access across platform to elevator, Commander Habithae was informed of his arrival exactly a minute before he arrived on the other side of the large plated doors. -

 

- Knocking slightly, as if he was visiting a nearby relative of his, Sabian began to speak in a very easy going, almost playful manner that still exuded the same calmness and clarity as his normal voice. -

 

"Commander Habithae, might I speak with you for a moment..?"

 

- Drawing inside, he humbly stood in her presence, head angled slighty down as he continued on after the question with a familiar statement.. -

 

"I wanted to first thank you one last time for letting us take full use of your facility. The Alliance is indebted to you and your company.

 

But, now that our sessions are drawing to a close, Admiral Starlisk and I will be heading out one last time to meet with the Black Sun on this planet. "

 

- He then revealed the tattered holes and burns on his garments, obvious marks from the training sessions from mild blaster fire, to try and break any tension felt between them; followed by a slight laugh once shown. -

 

"..Heh, it also seems I may need to take you up on your kind offer. I may also need a temporary uniform for our trip over."

 

- The young man could not help gesturely smile the entire way through, finding the situation a tad bit humorous while also reminding the Commander that he did not forget her offer before, only finding the correct means to ask now, out of the same courtesy. -

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Indy looked up as Mandalore came into the office, and listened to his comment. "That's a good question," she said.

 

"The Death Strikers were started as a freedom fighting faction in the Hapan Cluster. The homeworld of our fouding member was attacked by pirates. It was an outlying system, and aid from Hapes did not arrive fast enough. Outraged at this injustice, she vowed to do everything she could to prevent this from happening to anyone else. From this vow, the Death Strikers were born. Myth operated from Hapes for a while, the Death Strikers earning a reputation there which earned them their name."

 

At that moment, a notification popped up on her desk, informing her that Sabian was coming up.

 

"Well, before our guest arrives," Indy said quickly, "the Death Strikers eventually left Hapes, and were restarted with the hope that they could become more galaxy-oriented."

 

Sabian walked in at that, and presented his humble request. Indy smiled at the handsome soon-to-be Jedi Knight.

 

"Of course," she said lightly. "I'm sure we can find something for you."

 

She turned back to Mandalore. "As for what we're up to next...take a look at that, and tell me what you think." She handed him a datapad, containing information on the Empire's 'attack' on Hapes. "I don't know if it necessarily requires our attention, but I'm curious to see what you think."

 

She left the option open for him to either stay in her office or follow as she motioned for Sabian to come with her. "We'll get you cleaned up," she told the young man. Turning one more time to her new recruit, she said, "If you have more questions, feel free to come. I will answer to the best of my ability."

 

She had no qualms with Sabian hearing anything that might be labeled as Death Striker business.

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SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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"Excellent, that does sound like a fine idea."

 

- Holding the ends of his sleeves clutched around either hand, the young man gently strode across the ground, following the Commander's every step from the side. His black clad boots marked in unison with her own step after a while, using almost a similiar pattern to mimic Onderin's own unique pace. -

 

- Eyes gazed from now and again from the likes of Mandalore to the Commander, almost sure there was business being transferred between the two. Even though it was intuition, Sabian knew that he was a neutral party, not crossing the line into their own private affairs. -

 

- Instead of dwelling on the thought of their business, Sabian concentrated on a variety of different thoughts while they walked. Black Sun was the main thought in his traveling mind, thinking about what business they may present and of the ore proclaimed to be helpful to fight the Sith. -

 

- Head arched down, he watched his feet closely as he was in deep thought. The presence of the Force was still with him, as it always would be by the mere thought of it, and guided his body from coming in contact with anything around him while they walked onwards. -

 

- There was one other thought, lost in the deep reserves of his mind that seemed kindled by his comment to his Master as "Admiral" in that way. He felt guilty for doing so, probably most inappropriate to do so at the time. Instead of letting it hang over him, he let it flow out of him, closing his eyes and finding clarity once more. -

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The datapad scrolled slowly with deciphered text and holo-vid footage, relating to the Empire's recent campaign in the Hapes sector. His full attention however, was not on the datapad. The young Jedi who had interrupted his meeting with the commander, now had his full attention. Mandalore had always thought that all Jedi were the same; proud, arrogant, and completely self absorbed. But this Jedi, this man who stood besdie him before he was escorted out with his commander, seemed......different.

 

A sharp pain pierced his insides. Mandalore buckled at the waste, bracing himself on the dest. His hands, throbbed from within his gloves. His head felt as though it were going to explode from the build up of internal pressure. Mandalore fell to his knees. He unbuckled his helmet from his pistol belt and placed on the desk in front of him. Another pain shot through him, leaving his world black. When his vision returned, everything was red and in that instant he knew why. He could see his pupilous red eyes in the reflection of the T-Visor on his helmet. He was scared, because he always feared losing control of himself. The recent occurances of these violent episodes was something he had always denied. It was a nightmare given flesh and form. The price of an experiment that turns a man into a weapon. And then......it was over.

 

The pain was gone. His vision was clear. He had regained control over his body that had become unresponsive. He stood, looking over his shoulder to see if anyone had noticed what had happened to him. Luckily, the events must have only seemed like slow motion in side his mind. He gathered himself, then left out the office following behind the commander. The Jedi who was in her company, was presently in another room changing into the attrie that was given to him.

 

"Not to make light of our organization or our capabilities, but how can we stand against a force like the Empire? The only way I can see the Death Strikers gaining any advantage over them would be to send a spy. Someone to learn their inner workings and possibly sabotage them from the inside. Those are my thoughts on the subject. If such a mission does come about, I would like to volunteer myself. I am the newest member and noone knows that I am affiliated with your team yet."

Mandalore.jpg

War is cruelty. There's no use trying to reform it, the crueler it is the sooner it will be over.

--William Tecumseh Sherman--

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Indy lead the two men down the hall to a small room. She motioned for them to move inside, and opened the door to a small wardrobe. Inside was a variety of outfits, mostly bearing a forest-colored scheme. She motioned to the right side of the wardrobe.

 

"Feel free to take anything that you like. There's a 'fresher right there," she pointed to a door coming off the opposite side of the small room, "where you can try stuff on."

 

She then turned back to Mandalore. "There isn't really any way we could go against the entire Empire ourselves. However, sometimes they do use terrorism to keep a firm grim on their rule, and I was simply curious to see what you thought about the possibility of an event occuring that would require us to take a stand against them."

 

She paused. "Mandalore...are you alright? You look pale."

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SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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"Thank you, I shall be on my way then."

 

- An eye loomed over the likes of her companion, a perhaps premeditation to the future. Folding his arms overneath each hand, sleeves hanging over either of them in usual fashion, the young man strode across to the other room, to which he would retire to. -

 

- Exhaling deeply as the chambers closed behind him, he could not ignore the sense of pain. Bending his head, standing still, and remaining peaceful and quiet, the young Jedi's mind reached far beyond his own plane and stretched into the mind of the solider, Mandalore. Delved in the gentle energies of his surrondings, Sabian used his adpet ways of healing to soothe the mind of him; allowing his body to regain conciousness with himself without his full effort. -

 

..Any one's mind is completly capable of overcome any challenges, I merely give a step in the right direction and let the body do the rest..

 

- A lingering thought, indeed, that trailed with him through each pratice of his Force Healing. The talent was recognized at a young age, beyond the time where he even realized he was sensative to the Forces that surrond him. It was a distinct talent, reflecting his pure mentality and good intentions. The act itself is selfless, giving your own energies in replace for other's pain. -

 

- Clearing his mind once more, after feeling the man catch a second wind on reality, Sabian continued to move forward so his signature would not be recognized as responsibility for the act. He did not want Mandalore knowing he pryed into his mind, even if Sabian's intentions were pure. -

 

- Drapping cloak and scarred clothing aside, the young man relaxed underneath the steady stream of hot water in the very exquiste refresher. It attuned to his very body, acclimating the temperature of the water and the surrondings to whatever his body recognized as just warm enough. -

 

- Scrubbing back dirt, grime, and blaster powder from his scalp, tending to other areas around his body, a gentle hand turned the shower head off. He stepped out slowly, picking a towel and drying himself completly, before choosing one of the many assortment of uniforms displayed infront of him in the room. -

 

Hmmm..

 

- He began to think, mildly scratching the side of his head while his eyes danced across the clothing. Every now and again, one hand would move over the fine material, feeling it out, and nodding. After a couple minutes of deliberation, he decided upon the sky blue uniform, soft as silk, and had elogant and bold patterns across it. -

 

- Strapping it on, belt to buckle, Officer Devanus drapped the familiar green cloak over himself, hood back, arms moving through it's sleeves once more. He felt very refreshed, the cloth of the uniform molding to his very body; it barely felt there at times. -

 

- Marching forth from the room, after making sure it was well kept and cleaned back to proper fashion, Sabian folded his hands forward and bowed his head in a similiar fashion as displayed numerous times before out of means of respect. -

 

"The title lives to it's reputation. That was, indeed, quite refreshing."

 

- The young man could not help but smile, hoping that his stale sense of humor didn't catch either of the Death Striker personale off guard. Chuckling a bit afterwards, then drawing one hand over his mouth in silence, he began in a rather more serious tone of voice.. -

 

"Ahem-- Well, I do believe it is our time to depart now. Is there anything the Alliance can do for you before we depart?"

 

- His hands moved out to either side in a very open and caring motion while he spoke. There was truly something he wanted to give back to them for the group's kind hospitality to Onderin and himself, as well as the loyal soliders of the Alliance who benefited from the excersize. -

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As Mandalore didn't reply, she assumed he was ignoring the issue. Just then, Sabian came out of the 'fresher with a witty comment that caused Indy to smile again.

 

"There is no need for you to do anything for us," she said. "It was our pleasure and duty to serve you. Anytime you need anything, even a place to stay before your next journey, you will be more than welcome here."

 

She bowed low to him, placing two hands on her middle, and two on her head, in typical Codru-Ji fashion.

 

"Safe journeys," she said, "and good luck with Black Sun."

 

She searched her brain for the correct wish that the Jedi always gave each other. Suddenly, it came to her, like the whisper of a memory. "May the Force Be With You."

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SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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Seeing to it that the troops continued their excersizes while Sabian was changing into something a little more appropriate for the more-diplomatic-than-not second half of the mission ahead, Onderin Starlisk conversed with some of the men. He heard some very able-minded suggestions, many of which he had not thought of himself.

 

While he was their commander, he was an Admiral, having worked his way to the rank through space combat and fighter piloting, stopping only at Vice-Admiral for a short period of time. His specialty was not in finding weaknesses in trooper nets, digging trenches and coordinating firearms. He was skilled in piloting small craft and ordering large ones, more accustomed to the slow crawl of capital ships than the agility of a shock trooper.

 

But with the aid of those who were experienced in ground combat, he devised a basic set of tactics, and now reassembled the group to share and discuss them. "Most of you have attack vectors, and some of you have maneuvers. As was brought up by Lieutenant McKey, a Sith can't block a shot to the back without exposing his chest. Rolls or dashes at forty-five degree angles to your targets can offer such a shot at short notice," Onderin lectured. "The only technicality there is that, if you follow your attack vectors, you risk friendly fire, but a remedy can be made without too much trouble."

 

Had the future Sith slayers been any less trained, the Corellian Jedi Knight might have thought them incapable of such demands. However, they were the type with enough training to have trained their instincts, remembering strategies and details even when their lives were in danger.

 

And that danger would be decreased, Onderin decided, pending the success he and Sabian had in dealing with the Black Sun at Artus, where they would head next. They would attempt to purchase cortosis ore from the faction in a large quantity. Cortosis was natural on Artus and possessed the unique ability to withstand and even deactivate Sith and Jedi lightsabers on touch. Although it was extremely fragile to other attacks such as blaster fire and vibroblades, it could be layered beneath standard armor to provide the kind of protection Onderin was looking for.

 

The Jedi Knight quickly found his apprentice, Sabian Devanus, who was concluding a gracious conversation with Commander Habithae, who had helpfully supplied the necessary area and tools for proper instruction. It was possible that an Alliance training room would have served almost an equally sufficient area and facilties, but training in a place far from home greatly increased the precision of training and decreased in informality, though this was achieved primarily subliminally.

 

"Thank you once again, Indy," he said with a smile and a nod. He then gave a hand signal and the troops began loading back onto the transports. It wasn't long before they were all aboard and Onderin and Sabian boarded the Lambda shuttle they had arrived in.

 

Soon the shuttle had lifted off and the Alliance ships disappeared into hyperspace, that much closer to being ready to challenge and defeat multiple Sith Lords, perhaps the greatest standing threat of the Alliance and the Jedi Order.

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There is nothing good in war. There is good in why we fight them.

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Indy's words were calm and concerning, though the impact they had on Mandalore did not reflect it. The mention of his pale appearance had unnerved him, shattering the wall that he had recently erected inside his mind to guard against future blackout episodes. At the same time, the Jedi had just emerged from the locker room clothed in Death Strikers attire. He felt like he would pass out, but something inside his core was stabilizing him. Mandalore's mind was at ease. He struggled to hide the bewildered look from his face, before addressing Indy.

 

I am sorry for not answering your question in a timely manner. I haven't been feeling like myself lately. I think there is something strange happening to me. Permission to retire to my quarters commander?

Mandalore.jpg

War is cruelty. There's no use trying to reform it, the crueler it is the sooner it will be over.

--William Tecumseh Sherman--

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Indy nodded, concerned. "By all means. Get some rest."

 

She dismissed him, and shook her head. Strange things had an unnerving habit of happening to the Death Strikers, she knew. And most of the time, they didn't end well.

 

The Rebellion had left, so Indy headed off in the direction of the gym she had left Yuusuke and Sara in. From there, she could get an overview of their progress.

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SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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Mandalore's sleep was a restless one. He tossed and turned all night. He awoke in the middle of the night, covered with perspiration. He swung his legs over the side of his bed and rested his head in his cupped, shaking hands. His heavy breathing gave him something to concentrate on while he struggled to calm himself. He stood up and began pacing the room , mumbling to himself. He was chanting more than mumbling. Chanting something old......a prayer. The prayer he always said when he found himself reciting wherever he felt like he was outside of himself watching someone else.

 

His completion of the paryer had steadied him, though it wasn't enough. He needed to get his mind focused. Mandalore opened his battle chest and selected a lighter configuration of his hybrid armor. His helmet was not included, but was subsituted for multi-spectrum contacts and a sub-sonic listening device. He left his room, then boarded the turbolift, heading for the second floor training rooms. He was startled to see Indy standing outside one of the training rooms in the hallway, as he rounded the narrow corner.

 

"I could use a workout? Care to join me in a simulated combat scenario in one of the open training rooms,commander"

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War is cruelty. There's no use trying to reform it, the crueler it is the sooner it will be over.

--William Tecumseh Sherman--

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OOC: Edited because of a misunderstanding...

 

IC: Induran had just finished checking the status of the other two when Mandalore returned and propsed a workout.

 

She nodded. "Sure, that sounds good."

 

She moved to the next door and entered the blank room. Once Mandalore had entered, the door slid shut, and Indy programmed a random excersize to start...

 

The blank walls faded away, and the two Death Strikers found themselves in the middle of a vast, strange jungle full of odd plants. Off in the distance, using her mechanical eyes, Indy could see the out-of-place color of gray metal.

 

"This must be Felucia," she said. "I've been here once, and I've never forgotten it."

 

She paused, surveying the area. "Well, what do you say we head east to that base over there?"

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SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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Mandalore nodded, in response to the commander's suggestion. The training room was remarkable. As soon as the program started, the system's climate control pressurized the air making it hot and extremly humid. Sweat instantly began to bead up along his hair line and eyebrows.

 

This jungle program, that she called Felucia, was thick with plant life. To the average civilian, plants would seem relatively harmless for the most part. Mandalore new better though. He had an encounter with some plants in the outer rim, that released spores that caused madness in their victims. On Tatooine, there was a desert bush that was known to shoot thorns at unsuspecting travelers, embedding themselves in their flesh. The result was the thorns would sprout into tiny vines that spread through the hosts bloodstream, draining all the fluids from the body.

 

He activatest he internal temperature control within his armor that helps maintain optimal body temperature for the wearer. Since he was unclear on the full scope of the scenario. He turns on the environmental camoflauge which consists of micro-cameras that record the local environment, then display the the recordings over the armor. The wearer of the armor becomes almost undistinguishable from his surroundings.

 

"Since you are familiar with this place, I think you should take point. I would appreciate any info you could give me on what to expect out here. More importantly, who are we fighting?"

Mandalore.jpg

War is cruelty. There's no use trying to reform it, the crueler it is the sooner it will be over.

--William Tecumseh Sherman--

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As he made the adjustments to his armor, Indy had plugged her datapad into the slot in the door of the training room and downloaded the information they would need. The door them promptly disappeared, leaving the two in the perfect replica of the far-off planet.

 

She nodded at Mandalore's words. "Alright." They set off into the jungle, as Indy read the datapad aloud. "The objective of this program is to make contact with the inhabitants of the planet. They have requested a third party mediator, and you and your companion have been selected to be the representatives. The Felucians are curious about an alliance recently put forth to them by a local band of space pirates, who claim that they are tired ofthe fighting and raiding and wish to simply have peace. If the negotiations go well, it could mean an end to the threat. The pirates would have free run of one of Felucia's habitable moons. However, pirates are not known to be men of their word, so the Felucians have agreed on extended peace talks."

 

She finished, and looked at Mandalore to see what he made of it. "A diplomatic mission, it seems," she said. "The randomizer in this room certainly is very random. Though these space pirates could cause these negotiations to become more like a confrontation."

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SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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Mandalore looked over at Indy as she read off the mission objective from her datapad. When she was done reading he looked at her with one of his eyebrows raised, then switched off his environmental camoflauge. He unsheathed a machete from a holster strung across his back, tapping the shoulder portion of his armor with the blunt edge of the blade.

 

"A mission of diplomacy? Sounds like a mission that should have been chosen by your little Jedi friend. Diplomacy is for diplomats. I thought that our role was different. When we arrive, I will let you mediate, if that is your thing? I will enforce the peace. We should get moving."

 

Mandalore began slashing through the thick foliage, cutting a path towards the Felucian compound. After almost an hour of hacking and slashing through the jungle, they emerged in front of set of large blast doors. A representitive of the Felucian council greeted them before they could annouce their arrival. Mandalore stood behind Indy leaving her to do most of the talking.

Mandalore.jpg

War is cruelty. There's no use trying to reform it, the crueler it is the sooner it will be over.

--William Tecumseh Sherman--

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Sarrah was certainly one happy Togorian, with his stomach full of raw meat. Granted, it was frozen and thawed, but he wasn't familiar the terrain surrounding the Death Striker's base and wasn't prepared to request a day of leave for hunting when he had just joined the faction. But regardless, the large felinoid's equally massive appetite was satisfied, he had a commander that he could be pleased with his service to, and a moment to do as he wished. He was almost to the point of purring with pleasure.

 

The Togorian wandered through the halls and eventually spotted Commander Habithae walk into a side room, closely followed by the other new recruit, his form completely covered in a full-body suit of armor. At first, he couldn't decide what was happening inside the room, but judging from how neither of them left after a lengthy period of time, he surmised that it must be a virtual reality training room. That was most impressive--Sarrah had only heard of those, let alone have the opportunity to train in one.

 

The massive felinoid continued to prowl the Death Striker base, his finely-tuned mind quickly memorizing the layout of the edifice.

I wouldn't advise shooting a Togorian. It only makes them angry.

 

--Talon Karrde

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Indy agreed with Mandalore, then followed as the two made their way to the compound. As the representative came up to them, Indy introduced herself and Mandalore.

 

"We are Death Strikers sent to mediate your negotiations," she said. The Felucian ushered them into a lush conference room and instructed them to take a seat at the round table.

 

As the negotiations started, Induran did her best to pay attention. She was uncomfortable in this position--she was a pilot, not a diplomat. But she knew it was an important aspect of her job now, and one that she would have to pick up fast. In a way, she supposed, this was good training for her...which of course was the purpose of this whole charade anyway.

 

As the negotiations comtinued, with each party hotly condemning the other, Indy occasionally interjected smooth words to try and calm them down, but the words of the outsider didn't mean much to the members of the Felucian council or the pirates.

 

"I have a bad feeling about this," Indy said under her breath, just loud enough for Mandalore to hear.

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SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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Mandalore nodded in response to Indy's remark. Something bad was gonna happen if they couldn't manage to maintain the fragile peace, that was on the verge of shattering. While the commander continued to mediate, Mandalore walked around the conference room. Using his multi-spectrum contacts that were set on x-ray, he scanned all the pirates finding that they all were carrying at least two blasters a piece. The Felucians seemed to be more on edge though one of the representatives aid's was seem occassionly stroking some kind of call button. Mandalore assumed that somewhere close by, was an armed squad of god know what, waiting for the signal to go.

 

As he paced the room, his eyes frequently focus on the commander. She was doing all that she could by keeping the two parties civil. Insults and vulgarities could be heard outside of the doors, as the shouting increased. Then, all of suden everything was quite. The Pirate leader was shaking his head, rubbing his sleeve where his hold out blaster was concealed. Polictical documents were slid across to his side of the table. He skimmed through the documents, then tore them in half and threw them on the floor. The largest of the pirate clan, clothed in a giant leather trench, stepped out in the hallway. The Felucian representative tried one final offer, even though he could tell the time for talk was over. The other five pirates began to space out behind their leader.

 

Mandalore motioned for Indy to stand up, while undoing the straps that held his blaster in place. The Pirate leader's hold out blaster slid into his hand and fired, hitting one of the aids in the center of its' chest. Two of the Pirate pulled their blasters while guarding the door. The aid with the call signal, was laying on the floor pressing the button frantically. The sound of a heavy repeating blaster rifle, thundered in the hallway, just outside the door. Mandalore assumed that the "big guy" was dealing with the whatever counter measured that had been called for.

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War is cruelty. There's no use trying to reform it, the crueler it is the sooner it will be over.

--William Tecumseh Sherman--

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  • 2 weeks later...

OOC: Sorry about the wait...

 

IC:

 

She was in action as soon as the hold out blaster was revealed. She tried to make it to the head representative, and quickly slid behind the Felucian, shoving him to the ground. His non-wounded aide followed, and Indy spoke quietly. "Find a safe place as quick as you can. With all due respect, your people are no match for these pirates. My comrade and I will handle this."

 

As she spoke, she pulled out her two blasters and vibrosword. Her physique gave her a certain edge in battle, and she had trained long to be able to use that to her advantage.

 

She stood suddenly and set her sights on one of the pirates, who had turned with his back to her. She ran up behind him, dodging blaster bolts from the others. He turned and dodged her blaster shot, but as he recovered, she quickly sliced his hands off with her vibrosword.

 

With one of the 7 out of comission, Indy knew she would have to drive them out. There wasn't much of a chance that she and Mandalore could take on all 6 of them, even with their advanced training. The pirates were battle-hardened and determined to survive.

 

She glanced over at Mandalore while dodging more blaster bolts, to see how he was doing.

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SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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The commander was a unique individual. At first glance, she appears to be a tranquil being. Calm seemed to radiate off her, even when she was in the thick of battle. Mandalore was making a mistake watchng her. He barely had time to react to the butt of a nearby Pirates blaster directed at his forehead. His head ducked underneath the over extended swing from the Pirate. Mandalore caught it, then broke the Pirates' forearm against his own armored forearm. The Pirate fell to the ground, screaming in agony.

 

Behind Indy was another Pirate that he wasn't sure that she had notice, He fire two shots over the shoulder of his unsuspecting commander, hitting her would be attacker twice in the torso. The two Pirates blocking the door, were keeping the Death Strikers pinned down with suppression fire. He slid underneath the conference table, tipping it over to shield himself from incoming blaster fire. Indy had just dispatched the only other Pirate still standing at the rear of the room where they were. Only the two at the door and the big one in the hallway remained. The commandered joined him behind the table.

 

"I am open to suggestions, commander."

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War is cruelty. There's no use trying to reform it, the crueler it is the sooner it will be over.

--William Tecumseh Sherman--

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It appeared that the Death Striker operatives were all training at the moment, so Sarrah decided that he should practice his hand-to-hand combat skills. The massive, shadowy Togorian ducked into a more traditional training hall, and set up a simple punching bag to use as his victim.

 

Most Togorians followed a brutal style of melee combat, relying on their brute strength and razor-like claws to shred their opponents to gruesome pieces. Although this worked with bloody results on most opponents and wild animals, the wide, beastly swipes that Togorians employed while hunting were somewhat weak against true masters of hand-to-hand combat. In Sarrah's experiences with the Rebellion and travelling the galaxy, he could see the weaknesses of that aggressive strategy and learned to follow a more conservative form of combat, while still utilizing his natural Togorian muscle.

 

The punching bag soon discovered the destruction that the combination of basic hand-to-hand technique and Togorian strength could cause.

 

((Basically just posting to remind you that this character isn't inactive.))

I wouldn't advise shooting a Togorian. It only makes them angry.

 

--Talon Karrde

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((OOC: Thanks...and hopefully we'll be doing something soon as a whole group. BTW, Sarrah, you're welcome to invade our little training session if you'd like.))

 

IC:

 

Indy looked at Mandalore. "Suggestions?" She thought for a moment, looking around her. There was a bunch of debris now from the pirate's ceaseless fire, and it gave her an idea.

 

Picking up a fist-sized chunk of metal that had orginally been part of a chair, she grinned at her comrade. "How good is your aim?"

 

With that, she began throwing pieces of debris over the top of the table. Several hit the pirates, causing them to cry out and increase their fire. It was similar to a snowball fight, with one side having a fort to hide behind,--each team with their carefully hoarded supply of snowballs. Except this game was deadly.

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SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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By the time Sarrah was finished with his hand-to-hand training, his willing victim, a primitive punching bag, was reduced to a pathetic, pummeled mass. His shadowy fur gleamed with sweat, but his powerful muscles weren't even beginning to tire; he had endured far worse than a lengthy training session and survived. The Togorian still wasn't satisfied, but there was nothing more that this hanging mass of deadweight could offer him.

 

The Togorian wandered through the base's corridors, and eventually came to the same featureless room that the armored man and Commander Habithae had walked into. After hesitating, the Sarrah gave a full-bodied shrug and wandered into the training room... and was abruptly surrounded by jungle. Gone were the cool, efficient environs of the Death Striker base, replaced by warm, humid air, and the myriad aromas of the jungle. Sarrah reached down, and his hand brushed over-grown ferns and leafy bushes. His jaw literally dropped, a distinctly un-Togorian gesture of amazement. Although the Togorian had experienced holographic simulations in the past, this... technology was incomprehensible in how it created an entirely realistic world, all from a data file.

 

In the distance, Sarrah's catlike ears picked up the sound of blaster fire. Among the fire, the constant roar of a repeating blaster rifle stood out. Crouching slightly, the Togorian made his way through the jungle, eyes and ears alert for any sign of danger, towards the sound of the battle.

I wouldn't advise shooting a Togorian. It only makes them angry.

 

--Talon Karrde

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Time was ticking away as the Pirates traded shots with the Death Strikers. It wasn't long before the Pirates noticed that their exchange of blastfire was getting nowhere. Mandalore was so preocupied with reloading his blaster that he barely noticed the onset of the errie silence. The silence was disturbed by the sound of a click and beep. The sound of a thud, followed by a slight bump against the overturned table got the Death Striker's attention. Mandalore turned toward Indy, signaling that he was going to dive left which meant she should go right.

 

The grenade exploded, shattering the the somewhat durable table that served as their shield. Mandalore dived to the left with his forearms covering his face. His lightly armored body slammed hard into the wall, rendering him temporarily dazed. The smoke and debri from the grenade was giving them limited cover from the Pirates who were surely waiting to pick off their presumed easy targets.

 

The flash from the explosion had his vision blurred. He looked over to the right were the commander should have been, but he couldn't distinguish her from the rubble. Mandalore dove to the left because he could tell the grenade had landed behind him. He counted on his armor to protect him, that is why he opted for taking the blunt of the blast. He activates his multi-spectrum optics sensors, switching them to infared. Indy body lay motionless on the floor across from him. Her body was still registering a strong heat signature. Directly in front of him he could see one of the Pirates slowly inching forward through the smoke.

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War is cruelty. There's no use trying to reform it, the crueler it is the sooner it will be over.

--William Tecumseh Sherman--

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  • 2 weeks later...

The sound of battle was looming closer and was punctuated by the roar of an explosion. Sarrah ducked slightly and increased his pace, running towards the battle at nearly his fastest pace. The air was rank with the smell of smoke, explosives, and blaster ionization... the Togorian was definitely getting close.

 

Sarrah soon fell upon the scene of battle and silently slunk into the building where the firefight was ensuing. The only sign of his movement was the haunting tapping of his claws on the surface of the floor. He sank low to the floor, almost crawling on all fours.

 

Alas, some mercenary or pirate standing watch over the firefight panicked when he heard the ominous tapping of his claws slowly approach him. He swung his heavy repeater towards Sarrah and forced him to dive for cover from the steady stream of blaster bolts. Sarrah slunk back against the wall and waited for some brief respite in the blaster fire... a moment in which he reloaded, a small pattern that he could exploit...

 

Finally, he found it. Even though the pirate was obviously skilled with his heavy repeater, the recoil of the weapon forced his aim to rise and fall in a choppy pattern. When the sheet of fire rose away from his massive frame, Sarrah edged around the corner and poked the barrel of his light blaster away from his cover. He sprayed the corridor with unaimed fire, forcing the pirate away and eventually striking him in his weapon arm. During the infinitely small moment that the Togorian had an advantage, he twisted around the corner and took careful aim. Two blaster bolts roared from the barrel of his weapon. The first missed but left a painful sore as it caressed his neck. The second hit him just under his chin. The pirate fell to the floor, completely still and either dead or dying quickly.

 

A howl of rage announced the presence of a few more pirates who were clearly angered by the death of their friend. Deciding to utilize the better part of valor, Sarrah took to the winds and retreated at a pace that no ordinary human could match. Unfortunately for them, the three pirates who had stumbled upon their partner's rapidly cooling corpse decided to follow him.

I wouldn't advise shooting a Togorian. It only makes them angry.

 

--Talon Karrde

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--- Comm. Link Message for (Induran Habithae) ---

 

- The form of a young man, standing tall in his chambers appeared with the message, calmly stating in his usual calm manner of speaking.. -

 

"Greetings, Ms. Habithae. This is Officer Sabian Devanus. It has been a while since we last met.. I wish this message would be under better circumstances, but I'm afraid the Alliance needs your help."

 

- The figure adjusted himslef to stand more proper, back straight, eyes focused steadily upon the vieescreen infront of him that projected his image and voice. -

 

"The Imperials have begun there attack on Coruscant, aided by foreign powers we are not aware of at this time. We have been long standing allies and I wish to personally ask of the Death Striker's services in our time of need.

 

Any available crew you have will be suitable as well as any other services you may require from the Alliance's behalf. Thank you.. May the Force be with you."

 

- The message ended with the bowing motion of the young man towards the view screen, body calmly coming to a close as the visual retracted back with the comm. -

 

--- End Comm. Link Message ---

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OOC: Sorry for posting you guys' actions, but we have a job to do and we need to get on it quickly.

 

IC: The blast was huge, and tossed Indy halfway across the room, knocking the air out of her. She laid still for a moment, knowing that if she moved, she might injure herself more. There was rubble all around her, and she could still hear the noise of blaster fire. Suddenly, she knew she could use this for her advantage. Staying low, she crawled closer to where Mandalore was taking down the remaining three Pirates in the room. She reached out and grabbed her blaster from where it had fallen, and took careful aim. Two blasts in rapid succession gave away her position, but they also caught the Pirates off-guard. They fell, and Indy turned her sights on the other Pirate, who was sneaking up on Mandalore.

 

She aimed, but Mandalore moved at that instant, gunning him down with much efficiency. Then, for a moment, the hall was silent. Indy stood and brushed herself off. She was about to say something to Mandalore when Sarrah burst into the room followed by three of the pirates. Sarrah entered the room and took in the scene in a split second. As one, the three Death Strikers turned on the Pirates. Indy and Mandalore blasted two down, while Sarrah took out the third.

 

"Well," Indy said. "That was interesting. Welcome, Sarrah."

 

Suddenly, her comlink beeped. She checked it, and was surprised to have a message from Sabian Devanus, speaking on behalf of the Alliance. It appeared there was an attack on Coruscant, and the Alliance needed all the help they could get.

 

She glanced up at her two compatriots. "What do you say we move on to a real task?"

 

It was a rhetorical question, and Indy was glad that the opportunity had come up, even given the circumstances. She said a few words and a keypad appeared. A few strokes and the smoke, debris, bodies, and smell of ozone vanished and the Death Strikers were left in the black training room.

 

"Let's go," she said. "And by the way...excellent work both of you."

 

The Commander lead the way out of the room, and nodded to the two following her. "Get whatever you need and meet me in the hanger as soon as possible."

 

As they headed off, she went to the training room where she had left Sara and Yuusuke. A few strokes overrode the program and ended it. She went in and saw the two looking abit puzzled. She smiled. "We have a job to do, if you're up to it. The Empire has attacked Coruscant, and the Alliance is requesting our assistance."

 

She let the news sink in, then continued. "So, get ready to go, and meet me in the hanger in a few minutes."

 

With that, she headed back out. She stopped by her office quickly to grab a few things that might be helpful, then took the turbolift down to the hanger.

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SHE MEANS TO END US ALL!!! DOOOOOOOOMMMMMM!!!!!!!!11eleventyone!
There goes Ami's reputation of being a peaceful, nice person.
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