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Nar Shaddaa


BLCKCLONE

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"We'll be stopping off at Wayland before heading back to the Jedi Temple on Rafa V."

 

Walking up the landing ramp he headed towards the controls on his new ship, hazel eyes taking in all the new sights. Sitting down at the pilot's chair he gently laid his hands on the controls, fingers dancing across all the panels to get a feel for them before he finally grasped the yoke with both hands. Ashley Jade took the co-pilot's seat next to him and turning his head he smiled at her.

 

"Welcome aboard the Renegade II. Hope you like it, this ship will be our main form of transportation from now on...definitely a lot more spacious then the E-wing."

 

Speaking of his old ship, the Jedi Knight pulled out his old remote caller and pressed a few buttons, his E-Wing's autopilot activated as his fighter lifted into the air. The NavComp was programmed to make a series of random jumps before returning to Rafa V and the ship would be waiting for him there. As his old ship took off into space, he activated the repulsor lifts of the Renegade II and it gently hovered in the air as Andon threw the throttle forward.

 

The ship exploded into motion, the Skipray Blastboat appearing to be only a blur as he blazed through the upper atmosphere and escaped into the lower reaches of space. Connecting his mind to Jurha Kahn's, he spoke but one word to her.

 

"Wayland..."

 

Performing a quick snap-roll to avoid an incoming freighter, the Jedi leveled his ship and punched a few coordinates into the NavComp. With the destination set he pulled back a single lever, the stars elongating as they punched a hole into hyperspace and disappeared in a wake of pseudo-motion. Destination: Wayland.

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  • 1 month later...

*Death arrived at Nar Shadda in the form of a cloaked man who wasn't there. He surveyed the duracrete canyons and saw iniquity. He gazed at the steel spires and saw corruption. He stared into the souls of men and saw sin. Hope despaired, while rage blossomed.

 

Death sought out the means to wash away the foulness, and he found it in the water stations. By breaking them all through overpressure he could flood the lower levels and work from there. It only took a few moments to hijack the systems, as death sat upon a pile of corpses and plotted the end of man.

 

Soon the flood came, and death ensued.*

One blood, one shadow.

 

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Kakuto's ship came down out of hyperspace in high orbit around the hutt controlled system.

 

"This should be glorious..."

 

Kakuto descended upon the moon, ignoring Nar Shadaa prompts for landing codes or registration numbers, listening as their half hearted requests evolved into threat backed demands, laughing aloud at the knowledge that they would never survive the night.

 

With a thunderous crack the shining white mech crashed into the central planetary communications array, breaking though several layers of durasteel to plant Kakuto firmly into the center of the station. The Dark Lord emerged from the chest of his mech to land firmly in the hall of the station, a strange sight to the prying eyes of those who worked nearby. Those attempting to regain a grip on the situation were only allowed enough time to have their minds raped into oblivion, the screams of thousand mouths crying out within their heads until all sanity was a distant memory, and in it's place was only enough mental power to lie on the floor and drool. The Dark Lord ran at force enhanced speed to the central control station, tearing all the information he needed out of the mind of the local administrator, then tearing the local administrator into two pieces. Going to work, the dark lord sliced into the computer and set the primary array to jam all comms in the system--And just for a bit of style, Kakuto jammed said comm channels with classical opera, as an homage to another who he had great respect for.

 

"Excellent..."

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Daben's ship exited hyperspace and landed outside of the Nar Shadaa system. He came into the system, ignoring the calls from the landing crew. A few ships flew in behind Daben, annoyed that the last person landed without permission they began to try and shoot down Daben. He pulled his ship up and came in from behind their ships. He peppered them with laser fire, disposing of the two ships promptly. He brought the ship down and cut a man in half with the front of the ship as he did so. He stepped out and walked up to a wicked man. Daben's red eyes glared at the sinner and shoved his fist through his chest, shattering the heart. Daben could feel the dark side of the Force covering the planet. The Exarch was here, as well as the Dark Lord of the Sith, it appeared. "A deep cleansing is needed here, I sense so much filth here, it's overwhelmingly rancid! Death must be dealt this eve."

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*With the flooding all manner of insects and vermin sought to escape the lower levels, swarming into buildings and tearing apart people who were caught in their path. Soon the waters turned bitter and vile from those who did not escape the swarms, choking out rebreathers and poisoning those who could live in water.

 

The end came quickly, and death was pleased. Life had betrayed itself to foulness and so it would be swept away. This was only the beginning, he would go from system to system untill life was forgotten and all that remained was the cold, peaceful dark...*

One blood, one shadow.

 

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Kakuto continued to work at the control panel at the comm station, his grin growing wider and wider as he constructed his digital monster. Kakuto Ryu had learned all of what he knew of technology from the minds he had violated, and it wasn't long before his computer skills were unrivaled. This however, was mostly a waste on the Dark Lord, as he had no need for such things. Mass Genocide, however, is the most difficult thing a person can attempt, and in this case it seemed necessary.

 

"Navicomputers go boom..."

 

Kakuto hit the transmit key, sending out an inescapable signal to all the ships in the system (save for a choice three), transmitting them a virus that made the Navicomputers engage autopilot in a completely random path. Every three seconds the course would change, making the ships circle and zoom drastically like giant metal butterflies, sending them to a number of horrible dooms ranging from head on collision to water landings. Space ships are designed to withstand 0 to 1 atmospheres of pressure, where as the deep of the flood could create pressure in the 1000 atmospheres range, slowly crushing ships and their occupants to death and spilling out all the fuel into the flood. Kakuto grinned as all of the airborne occupants of the planet were ended in a glorious spectacle of ways. Soon the already polluted water was lined with starship fuel, which rose to the surface and ignited as ships crashed into it, setting the entire planet ablaze with fires that rested atop water...

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*As the mortals huddled closely together from a world gone mad in metal and stone tombs, death sharpened his sickle and those who were still human cried in despair at the destruction. Death walked among man, taking indiscriminately from the old, the young, sick, and the fit. The screams of the dieing tormented the living until their minds shattered, and in desperation they made war upon one another, seeing only enemies.

One blood, one shadow.

 

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Kakuto walked the chaotic streets of Nar Shadaa with great amusement, taking the time to cleave the occasional commoner in two when they presented themselves for the slaughter. Kakuto found a woman clutching two children, shielding their eyes from the chaos. The Dark lord found this sickening that anyone would try to hide from so wonderful an occasion. So sickening, in fact, that he was forced to empty the contents of his stomach in a projectile stream onto the family, hitting them with a three pronged attack. First of all, it was rancid smelling, then there was the fact that the strong acid ate away at their flesh, but best of all it contained all the plague of the god Nurgle, ensuring that their death would be a slow agonizing one that would be felt by far more than just them. Kakuto took great pride in this, primarily because he found a good reason to projectile vomit on children...

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A band of smugglers approached Daben and began shooting him. He lifted his hand into the air and the lasers reflected off his hand, some of them back into his attackers. When the fire came to a stop all the smugglers were dead. The cleansing was only beginning, though. The society was growing worse as war began to break out. Daben walked past a hooker. He was disgusted by this and lifted her up through the Force by her throat. Soon her head exploded. She was flung into the streets. He walked into a relgious building and witnessed as the people inside were trying to hide from the onslaught. Rats. Hiding like rats, unable to accept their judgement day. Daben used the Force to break the windows of the church and to pull several other sharp objects and hurled them into the people inside. He used the Force to pull a sword off the wall and used it to decapitate someone.

 

He walked up to the religious leader and was about to impale him when he realized that this man was pure. He decided that he must have been mistaken, the influence of these people must have left a taint on him. He ripped the man's soul out and consumed it. The roof was ripped off and hurled out into the streets, bouldering over screaming vicitms. The several candles inside hit the curtains and the floors, setting the church on fire. None on this planet were innocent, even the preacher, for they were preaching the word of a religion other then the Force. They must all die.

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Kakuto cruised along the streets at a slow pace, taking in the gloriousness of the chaos he and the Dark Jedi had wrought, watching as man and alien brutally murdered each other, taking delight as plague set in, turning the healthy berserk rioters into rotting, decaying, bloody, vomiting skirmishers. This planet was doomed.

 

"Even god himself isn't this good at Genocide."

 

Kakuto calmly ducked to avoid the flaming wing of a now crashed X-wing as it hurtled through the air to embed itself in a nearby building. Kakuto watched as the building collapsed, obliterating everyone inside as well as most of nearby rioters. The cries of all the people in the planet meeting annihilation was a tremendous wave within the force, beautiful to the ears of the Dark Lord. Blood washed the street that were high enough to escape the flood. Corpses began to pile up, mangled and broken, a glorious sight reminiscent of Nhagathul.

 

Kakuto withdrew his double-bladed lightsaber and hurled it, cutting down wave upon wave of skirmisher, changing directions numerous times as if seeking the thicker spots. Blood pooled and swirled, staining the duracrete plains just as Kakuto had wanted it, in the shape of an enormous eight-pointed star. The Dark Lord smiled, watching as limbs were severed and cast into the air with streams of gore.

 

"The end is near..."

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*A death knell sounded over Nar Shadaa as the reaper looked upon his handiwork. Only one life stood between Death and the silence he craved. He found her at the top of the tallest spire that still stood. A simple girl becoming a woman, tears rolled down her face but she did not beg or simper before Death. She clutched a book in her hands that was both a shield and a key, and she met death's eyes with her own.*

 

The silence beckons me, it has the answers I seek.

 

"I forgive you."

 

*Death took her soul and prepared himself for the beautiful silence. Death was denied however, as silence no longer had meaning. Definition no longer existed in this long, cold dark, and in desperation Death reached into himself for the soul he had taken. It was bright and vibrant even in death, and upon seeing it Death wept seven crimson tears and was reborn. Crimson Morpheus placed the soul, righteous and pure, in a crystal that shown with an undaunting light. It would serve as a reminder to when Death had been humbled and enlightened by the last traces of life. Crimson Morpheus left Nar Shadaa with a light, a book, a shield, and a key.*

One blood, one shadow.

 

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The planet now vieled in a deafening silence, Kakuto sighed.

 

"No more people to kill..."

 

Kakuto's ship rose from the wreckage, unscratched, but splattered with blood. Kakuto boarded his mech and took off, returning to his sanctuary--the temple on Mimban...

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  • 4 months later...

The large dark skyscraper moved through the lower levels of a Nar Shadaa city. He was an imposing figure, standing over seven feet in height. He could usually be assured that he was the most physically commanding person in the room. His menancing look was generally only rivaled by that of a wookiee.

 

His size was not the only thing that made him stand out from the rest of society. He was different. Most of his kind had been wiped out with the destruction of his homeworld centuries ago, but some, like him, had survived in small colonies on outer rim planets that only his species, the powerful Dashades, knew about.

 

Rodya had the apperance of a large boulder. His muscles rippled through his ragged clothes as he moved down the street. He was not hurt by the occasional comments like "OH MY GOD! What is that thing?" Rodya would merely react to these situations by reaching around to his back and adjusting his large vibro axe with his massive claws. That slight show of force would generally get the crowds looking in the other direction.

 

Rodya wondered into a back alley where he found a man he had been instructed to meet concerning a new career. The dark figure in the alley directed Rodya towards the planet of Dubrillion. He would need to go there to enlist with Black Sun.

 

Rodya made his way back up and out of the lower levels to where he had his ship docked. He boarded his jet black YT-2000 and left the smuggler's moon.

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  • 2 months later...

Davin Malcheck paces about his tiny little apartment, located in a non descript building in the lower levels. Empty bottles litter the floor and a general stink prevades the whole domicile. The ex-Imperial officer is old, his hair all grey from his messy head, to his thick, unkempt beard. He is never without a side arm. For the past few years, fear and anxiety have been clouding him, increasing with several news telecasts bringing reports of galactic disasters and murders, making him more selective about the "security jobs" he does for the petty crime bosses and smugglers running the streets, aimed at keeping his profile even lower. Despite that, he never took the effort to establish a new name, admitting a certain fatalism. There's some sense of conscience and responsibility, but most of it is just raw fear in that emotional stew... Waiting for the day the one person he wronged to come and collect what was long overdue...

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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Reagan made her way through the city to the coordinates that were left for her... and looked around... she knew who it was that she was looking for... or at least knew who he used to be... calling on the force, she let it guide her to her prey...

 

she made her way through the building, and up the stairs... and then through the long dark corridor... finally she stopped at a door and stood there... she used the force to push open the door... and staired at the man... as he turned around... his eyes met hers... and she just shook her head no as he reached for his blaster...

 

"I would not do that if I were you... " and she grabbed him with the force and threw him backwards into a chair... "Now... you have something I need... someone sent me here to you... telling me that you have it and I am to collect it from you... "

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Davin flies through the air like a rag doll and crashes heavily into the wall, cracking the cheap plaster and exposing the interior space between rooms.

A wild, angry light enters his eyes. He expected worse to come his way a lot sooner- a lot worse, than what appeared to him to be some wild, angry red-headed wench with a penchant for using the Force, citing some unknown debt- probably from a bill he failed to pay. Crazed and desperate, he does draw his blaster and aiming more on instinct than from the skill his tremoring, alcoholic hands will allow, he fires.

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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Without even thinking, she held up her hand and blocked the blaster shot away, and moved closer to her prey... she yanked his blaster from his hand with the force and sent it sailing through the air to land nicely in her own... and looked down at him...

 

"I was sent here by Faust... you are to give me what it is you have... or I am going to kill you right here right now.... "

 

he could see in her eyes that she was deadly serious... and just looked at her... she knew he was wondering why on earth Faust would send a woman to do his dirty work...

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Davin, cowed, looks on boldly. "I'm not afraid of death, you little witch," he spits, unfortunately on Reagan, figuring he has nothing to lose. "I've had the threat of that white cloaked maniac hanging over me for years... He knew what I did to his homeworld... Ironic how our biggest success would come and he'd be beyond our control." He laughs bitterly. "So, if you're going to collect on my life, do it, and do it quickly. I'm not going to plead or beg... and when you see Faust again, tell him I'll meet him in Hell."

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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Reagan knelt down to look the man in the eyes... "Do not talk about him in that manner... he is more of a man then you will ever be... " Reagan wiped the spit away and grabbed him... she used the force to reach into his mind like she had down with the slaves... and once she found what she was looking for, she ripped it from him... but she got a bit more then she expected ... she got the coordinates that she wanted... and lingered a bit longer in his mind from the other things she saw...

 

Keeping him pinned with the force... she closed her eyes and looked further into his mind...

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The inside of his mind is clouded black with fear as thick and tangeble as tar, swelling into a boiling lake of hatred. As the mind is pressed apart, forcing the ex imperial to scream, images and instances from the past boil up....

 

Davin as a younger officer, receiving orders from a man in a Moff's uniform, assigning him to govern an Imperial outpost on a small world in a small, yet troubled sector of the galaxy. Behind the Moff is a very tall and imposing figure dressed in a black body suit and cape, breathing in very regular fashion out of a resperator. The Moff speaks very clearly, though he is clearly intimidated by the man behind him.

 

"We want the rats on the world under constant pressure. There are a half dozen petty criminals and worldlords vying for control. We want them all more or less evenly matched at all times. Use everything at your disposal to keep them constantly at each other's throats. We're going to use these rats in an experiment. His Majesty wants the survivors eventually conscripted for the army." A set of coordinates are given and Commander Malcheck receives his assignment.

 

Another scene enters Reagan's mind- Davin's in his officer's uniform, though he looks older by a few years. He's passing through the streets of a dusty city that could pass for Mos Eisley, if not for the all around ruined and delapidated nature of the buildings showing signs of the constant conflict. Cowed people with bowed heads hurry about their business, looking over their shoulders in fear.

 

He scans the surroundings, his attention briefly passing over four people in rags- a man and a woman, their faces concealed in cloaks, with their two children. One of them is an adorable girl, a mere toddler wrapped in dusty linens and with blond curls. Beside her is a sturdy young boy, looking on with piercing blue eyes, his own blond curls caked with dirt. Even though it was a life time ago, Reagan still knows with certainly who that young boy was, and who he would grow into.

 

Another memory presents itself. Davin is talking with a nearly feral looking child of about 10 or 11. "You will need to spy on the encampment for your boss. I have word that the warlord you're looking into will be striking back soon enough. If you do as I say you can deplete their garrison and your boss will be richly rewarded." The commander, trying to play the various warlords against each other, has just set into motion the events that would lead to the young man there retrieving the information that would cost the lives of Anastasia and her parents following the bloody raid.

 

Later, another peculiar memory presents itself. Daven is in space, aboard a massive ship- the bridge of a Super Star Destroyer. The man in the black suit and cape, speaking over his mechanical lungs, booms in his deep voice.

 

"His Majesty is upset with two of his Hands, suspecting them of treachery. They will be sent to the planet to observe the progress of the experiment. See to it that they do not leave there alive." Davin, shivering, swears it will be done.

 

The two Hands arrive, both of them covered in the dark side's aura, and both with brilliant, fiery red hair. They are a man and a woman. They were sent to find information on a suspected pair of Jedi taking refuge on the planet. They are given a small skiff to go through the acrid warzone, though the engines are sabotaged. They died when this fatal "accident" caused it to explode. Davin notes they had a daughter, as he writes the official notes of this accident into their file. Even to this day, he never made the connection to Reagan.

 

The memories fade and pass, swirling about uncertainly, leaving him wimpering on the floor with a blinding headache.

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

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Reagan watched his memories as if she was mesmorized in a dark movie theater... she could not look away... she watched Faust's progression through this man's mind... and it brought her even closer to understanding him... then suddenly, she felt like her heart was being torn from her... she saw them... the woman had her emerald eyes... the man... her color of red hair... and the woman her curls... she knew... without even having to ask, they were her parents.

 

She saw everything this man had to offer on them... and tried without success to retrieve any more... with tears in her eyes... she knelt down next to him... bringing her face close to his.

 

"I am their little girl... " she watched as his eyes opened wide... and with all the hatred she had ever felt... she felt her rage boil up within her, and released it into this man... his screams echoed through the building, and she ignored them... for what seemed like hours she essentially cooked the man from the inside out.

 

Standing up, she looked at his chared remains... and walked out and back to her ship... she powered it up, and headed to the new coordinates...

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OOC((Planets still there, people are still there, they're just all gross and corpsified. When people go to Dantooine, they acknowledge that everyone is dead, is it that hard to do the same for Nar Shaddaa? There are plenty of other city planets in the galaxy for you to go to, so if you don't mind please respect other people's storylines and leave Nar Shaddaa as it was RPed to be. It will be repopulated in time, but noone in their right mind would go to Nar Shaddaa after what happened there, and there was noone left to return to it. Thanks for your consideration.))

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Grrr... stop ooc's in here... no it is not that hard... and Dantooine is grandfathered in cause it was before the no destroying a planet rule... you did your deed... you got a time period of when it was vacant... and now it is back to the way that it was... get over it... and move on... the planet is now fine... the dead were buried... the people here are fine now... Chad needs to worry about Chad and not some planet in the RP that is of no concern to him... thank you.

"When in doubt, Get the Hell out!!!"

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  • 1 month later...

Cloak pulled Taught, the young man moved swiftly through the crowds of Nar Shadda. He had caught news of the Sith Empire over throwing the Republic, this would only serve to help him with his current plans in the long run. Sweat and liquor were thick in the air, the chatter of people having a good time as well as fighting met his ears. With the force aiding him he was able to slip past most people without them getting to close or even noticing him, doing this to keep people from attempting to pick pocket him and causing him to make a scene.

 

The dark energies were practicly oozing out of every inch of this planet, it was as if he had been dropped into the sinful pit of the galaxy, lust and greed running rampant with alcoholics littering the ground and bar brawls breaking out because someone was boasting to much. Trowa allowed tendrils of the force to slip out and reinforce these acts, feeding off of the results of them.

 

Slipping into an alley, Trowa allowed his body to darken, turning into an almost ethereal form. His body slowly shifting from solid to a shadowy substance as he sank closer to the earth. Just one of the many things he could do with Shadows now, thanks to Nurgles parting gift. Trowa slid up the side of one of the larger buildings and in through a small crack in the window. He had done his research, the one he was after was here.

 

Gavin

 

The two had grown up together, Gavin had always been a sort of rival too him. Trowa had gained suspicion that it might have been Gavins doing that got his family kidnaped or killed. It was time he extracted a bit of revenge and got another portion of his plan completed all at once. He caught sight of his prey and moved towards the back of his chair, the man looking to be hard at work on something. Trowa took on his normal shape behind the man and gripped his throat with the force. Running his fingers over the mans throat as he was choking and gagging Trowa spoke...

 

"Guess who, Gavin.."

 

Trowa was surprised to see that the mans eyes could get any larger then they already were. His crimson saber cast a glow over the rest of the darkened room. Gavin took in heaping breaths of air as Trowa released his hold on the man. He wouldn't be killing him just yet, they had business to do. Trowa dropped a piece of paper onto his desk, and held out a pen.

 

"Sign it or die, I'm taking control here."

 

Just as Gavin was about to protest Trowa moved his saber a bit closer to the man, watching as he tried to suppress a bit of horror. He knew what the weapon could do and what it meant, it was also obvious he remembered Trowa. He watched as the man began to sign the paper. The force alerted him to the mans foot moving slowly over the floor, hitting a silent alarm it seemed. He finished signing it and Trowa picked it up, folding it up and pocketing it just as the door burst open, five guards with blasters pointing at him.

 

"Get him!"

 

Wanting to save Gavin for last Trowa moved forward with grace and precision, cutting down two of the guards before they could even react. He blocked a blaster bolt behind his back in the middle of a spin, slicing another guard in half. He tossed his saber into the air and held out both hands, sending a powerful dose of force lightning into the two guards and catching his saber all in a timely manner.

 

"Nice try, you've failed and I now I have to get some new guards."

 

Trowa shut his saber off as he walked across the room. When he was only a few feet from Gavin he drew his Sith dagger and slit the mans throat all in one motion. A spray of blood hit the window as the man fell to the ground clutching at his throat. Trowa looked down into his icy blues as he lay there, only pity surfacing inside of Trowa. The man had done many bad things and no death was upon him, it was all he deserved.

 

________

 

 

Having spent a few days arranging things on Nar Shadda Trowa left the planet, confident that his plans would go ahead with no problems.

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  • 3 weeks later...

A man sat by himself in the dirty cantina. He appeared to be watching for something as he had hardly touched his Kuat brandy. Suddenly his eyes locked onto a devronian that was making his way carefully over to his table. the Devronian sat down with a quick glance around.

"Hello Spike," he said.

"Devros I didn't think you'd make it, remeber this is your last chance."

"Yes William I know I know," said Devros, in his nervousness useing Spikes real name, "but you know how hard credits are to come by in this town."

"That is not my problem" Spike said as he pulled a blaster pistol out of his belt and laid it on the table.

"Pleasse just one more week," Devros pleaded, "Thats all I need."

"You have it, one week thats it," Spike snarled.

"Thank you, I'm in your debt," said the Devronian in an almost fauning fashion.

"I know," Spike said simply, as he extened his hand.

As Devros reached out to take, his eyes suddenly rolled back and his arm went limp and fell onto the table, lifeless. Spike got up and dragged the Devronians corpse out of the booth, revealing the darkstick stuck in his gut.

"Now its time to get my payment out of your carcass, coreslime."

William reached into his pocket and pulled out a large spike, and quickly jammed into Devros lifeless eyes. Then replacing the spike he pulled out the darkstick and cut the devronians throat. By know he had everybody in the cantinas attention, but it was one of those places where you didn't act concerned over any illegal events that took place there. Spike quickly wiped the darkstick off and headed for the door.

"Hey!" the cantina owner yelled, "What about that mess!"

"That is the least of your worrys," Spike said as he pulled out his blaster pistol and blew a portion of the bartenders head off. Then striding quickly he walked out the door and into the night.

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  • 2 weeks later...

(Its been like forever and nobodys posted so i will)

 

William walked quickly through Nar Shaddas back alleys. He knew somebody would try and kill him over the bartenders death. He stopped and leaned up against a grimy wall. Lighting a cigaro he thought back over the events that had led him here.

 

Banished from Kuat for the attemted murder of a noble, he had wandered around for a year. He had at first tried bounty hunting but after incurring Jabba the Hutts wrath for killing someone he was supposed to capture, he had gone to Nar Shadda and managed to keep a low prfile until now.

 

H started walking again, hoping he could make it back to the space port before his enemys caught him.

 

An hour later he was aftely off planet headed for the bright star at the centar of the galaxy, Coruscant.

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