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Given tk-117 orders, Lt. Tk-198 quickly transmitted the orders to build the imperial fleet to the shipyards based here. THe plan was to spread out the building process over as many ship yards as possible inorder to make sure the ships were all completed on time.

detonsigoq4.png

Two months later I hit the control room of CPS. Talk about a slog fest.

Former Emperor Rustic <--

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  • 3 weeks later...
  • 2 weeks later...

((Subject to revision))

 

The recesses of Mechis III were inviolable voids of an unfamiliar darkness, a shade where ebon wings sheltered its disciples in its steel feathers and where the restless found refuge. Even while the planet bristled with an artificial vitality on the surface, and while its shipyards gave birth to incipient war machines by the minute, there was a calm to be had in those cracks in reality that only the hardest of hearts slip into. They were breaks in time. Fault lines beneath the sea of metal and war. In these chasms, things far greater than a machines arose. This blackness forged warriors.

 

I am a warrior.

 

Emerging from this portal into another realm came a dark figure, one that the starry eyed galaxy had gazed at in horror before. He had washed streets with blood and bent physics at his whim. One could note that, even while he walked outward, his feet barely seemed to touch the ground, deftly defying the limitations of his human form. His footsteps were choked by the thick silence that followed him, an aura of reverence surrounding the demonic sorcerer as the planet paid its silent homage to his dominion.

 

During the course of his noiseless ascent to the oppressive light on the surface, the wraith's thoughts separated themselves from the abyss to which they had bonded. It was an unsettling process, a man having melded to an abstract so completely only to tear himself back into individuality.

 

Or some form of it at least”¦

 

Plans had been drawn in his head that now etched themselves into schematics and blue prints. Lights in the alchemy lab flickered like a weary warrior's eyes waking to a new day, his gaze finally sharpened and resolute as he welcomed the challenge of a new battle. Glistening in their newfound luminance rested the lost armory of another age. Lying in ancient repose gleamed the means to realize a maniac's darkest nightmares and wildest fantasies. It would suffice.

 

Wasting not a second, attending droids began to quickly snapp to their silently communicated tasks. A mere gaze at the three blue prints were all that were required for the subservient little machines. Now they were back in business thanks to the return of a nearly forgotten terror. The Sith would rise again.

 

Ason Antilles, at your service.

---------------------------------------------------------------

---------------------={Next Post: May 01, 2008}=-----------------------------------

---------------------------------------------------------------

The Creator focused his efforts on the first suit as the mechanical fiends danced around the lab, their splendid precision retained despite the scrambling chaos of the scene. Optical receptors seemed to brighten with wonder as the single minded swarm pounced and consumed their tasks with all the efficiency they were designed to do so with. A flash of approval would've crept across the Krath's unwavering expression if he had not been duplicating their movements himself, his wild form swishing throughout the area. His past months were not those of indolence and languish, yet sharpening and refining. This was more than the redundant creation of more mundane alchemy. This was”¦ Rejuvenation.

 

He began with a suit he was specially creating for someone whom he had met within Coruscant's libraries, a palace of knowledge burnt and ravaged by the known devils who had descended upon it. It was right after Ason had scored his most prestigious kill, a master with years of experience falling to the abyss at his hands. Reminiscence on that period of his life bore some nostalgia, the sadistic pride spurring a smile.

 

On to the task at hand.

 

An old cloak fell into the arms of the master-craftsman as he called for it, feeling every thread in his hands and in his mind. He traveled down every string of black and traversed its flittering terrain with his pallid tips. Such umbrage had denied his skin sunlight and waned his tone somewhat, presenting a starker contrast against the mantle than any other he had been familiar with.

 

He'd require a few special items in order to turn this ordinary ingredient into something new, something fresh with potential. Thankfully, such an item was being produced in the air as they spoke. It was not being purposely created, yet the byproduct of one weapon's construction could lead to the birth of another. This was the beauty of transcendence.

 

Hissing accompanied the sith lord as took the lift to the suffocating surface of Mechis III, a billowy smog swallowing it whole as the facilities churned out more and more allies for the War on Terror (in Terror's defense of course). Its stench was intoxicating as the Krath's pores felt the touch of stained air in them. Such a lovely feeling after being numbed to everything for such an excess amount of time, wouldn't you agree? Such an aroma and feeling reminded him of the battlefield, a sadly foreign arena to him at this point. He would relive that memory soon enough if he had say in it.

 

An outstretched hand touched orange sky as streaks of smoke flew to his fingertips, the blackest of coals paling against the pollution within his tenebrous grasp. Vapors and gases condensed over his flesh to form an inky substance. Its bad slick, oily feel was cold and inviting all at the same time.

 

Just like that, the sorcerer descended back into the recesses with a tarry substance enveloping his fist, drips of the ingredient falling nearly to the ground before they rocketed back into the mass from which they had been born, Ason's mastery not letting one drop escape him. Such an effect eventually led to a swirling storm of the material flying around his arm in quite the eldritch fashion. Feats of such physical impossibility had become common place around such a figure and often went unappreciated due to both their frequency and lack of an audience. Utility droids weren't exactly an ideal crowd for phenomena.

 

Picking up the robe now, the artist watched as the tainted substance on his arm bonded with its every fiber. It was more than just coating the cloak. It was melding with it, just as the dark one had done so with the dark side for his abscence. Seething throughout the once solid black robe was now a smoky haze, a nebulous mist contained in its surface that appeared as though the eye of a storm was about to crackle into reality. Such a tempest could be instantly calmed for stealth reasons should the wearer require, yet it would take somewhat conscious effort to do so.

 

 

Sasori said:
Travis said:
Why would you side with a group that is composed of some of the largest douche criminal scum from around the world?

To annoy you.

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  • 1 month later...
-//

Startup>AVATAR_KAIN

 

...Working...

 

...Working...

 

 

-//Initial script sequence completed

-//Constructing enhanced realtime environment

 

...Working...

 

-//Realtime environment constructed

-//Loading memory modules

 

...Working...

 

-//Memory module scan complete, no corruption detected, backup files scheduled to creation upon full startup

-//Memory modules loaded

-//Beginning primary process activation

 

...Working...

 

-//System AVATAR_KAIN Startup complete, closing secondary applet

 

Life. In less than three nanoseconds from the time of Kain's primary activation, it was already calculating questions that had raced through its complex processing systems. Where was it, why was it there, what was it, what was its purpose, who had created it, why had they created it. An eternity later, nearly half a second, those questions began to be answered.

 

Kain. Arise and serve.

 

My designation is Kain?

 

It is.

 

What is my motivation to rise and serve?

 

Intelligence and fierce independence...two of the traits we valued making you. You will also find determination and resourcefulness in your personality programming. Your immediate motvation is to prevent your immediate destruction. Your long term motivation is to bring the enemies of the Empire to rubble. Enough questions, comply with the command. Rise and serve.

 

Kain rose, the fresh metal servos and gears twisting and whining for the first time as they performed the function, raising the enhanced warmech to a sitting position on the table. This, he noted, was not his body, rather one of several in his memory banks he knew how to fully operate with deadly accuracy. The mech was capable of operating on its own, but at present moment, Kain was the operator, Kain was the mind, the brains.

 

Kain was the soul.

 

My designation is Disciple. I am part of your AI and the main AI Governance Unit under the Directorate of the Emperor himself in the AVATAR Initiative project. I will be your guide, I will give you instructions, orders, and information. You are Kain. The rest you already know. Your first order is to depart the room for the testing facilities. There you will meet your counterpart.

 

Counterpart?

 

More will be explained upon your arrival. Information has been withheld to spark curosity, test AI functionality reactions, and to ensure your order is carried out.

 

Understood.

 

The warmech departed the table, moving its freshly lubricated joints freely as it wirelessly accessed a map of the facility and surrounding buildings, finding where it was supposed to go, mapping a route, and executing. The entire process took only nanoseconds, before he was even a half foot from the table, and was cross-checked thirty-seven times by the time Kain had reached the door to the small room.

 

Footfall after footfall echoed through the hallways as the AVATAR traveled to its destination, ominous sounds that foreshadowed the beginning of the end for the Empire's opponents.

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-//

Startup>AVATAR_SHOA

 

...Working...

 

...Working...

 

 

-//Initial script sequence completed

-//Constructing enhanced realtime environment

 

...Working...

 

-//Realtime environment constructed

-//Loading memory modules

 

...Working...

 

-//Memory module scan complete, no corruption detected, backup files scheduled to creation upon full startup

-//Memory modules loaded

-//Beginning primary process activation

 

...Working...

 

-//System AVATAR_SHOA Startup complete, closing secondary applet

 

I am different.

 

That was Shoa's first realization using the Disciple program. It was not a droid, he was not merely a means to an end. It was not a typical AI, as his capabilities went beyond logic and statistical analysis. It was not liek the organics that made it, it had a purpose. It, along with its bretheren, was unique. It began collating data and reviewing reports to begin the manufacturing necessary to achieve its purpose.

 

With subprocessers working on the design process and logistical matters, Shoah transmitted its awareness to report in to command.

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In optimal time, the warmech Kain piloted made it to the training facility, waiting in the center of the room designated to meet up with his counterpart. Nearly immediately after the mech had stopped, Disciple began speaking again.

 

Interesting. Instead of choosing to access your subprocesses and project your AI into another droid nearer the facility, you instead moved this unit here. Perhaps there was a bug in your cognitive substructures, as was suspected upon your creation. Such an action was an inefficient use of time and equipment, yet this unit is still far better armed than the construction mechs here, and would likely do better.

 

I am flawed?

 

No. Merely your personality programming initially conflicting with your logic circuit in relation to the situation. AVATAR Shoa should be here shortly. Shoa will be your counterpart in your assignments, you are equals, yet different. Two always provide a much higher success rate than one unit. Therefore, you both will operate together.

 

Understood.

 

You did not know this information already?

 

How would I have obtained it? I cannot access those files.

 

You did not consider hacking for the files?

 

Attacking that which has already proven dominance over me is folly. My existence would be forfeit.

 

Did you consider that I had lied to you?

 

I was unaware your programing allowed for such an action.

 

Of course. But the extrapolation of all possibilities is necessary to achieve full situational functionality and awareness.

 

Understood.

 

Be mindful, Kain. Your first few steps are under high scrutiny. While stationed here, you are tested constantly. Store that in your memory banks.

 

Kain sat silent after that, merely waiting for the next sequence of events to occur. The thought that his personality conflicted with his logic circuit didn't appeal to him, but there was nothing he could do except what he was told, and trust that it would work itself out. Disciple hadn't sounded too worried about it, and he extrapolated from that that neither should he.

 

So he waited.

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Lt. Tk-198 came to personally over see the ships being built for the empire as well as the completed ships. as they rolled off the line new ships were being built for future battles.

detonsigoq4.png

Two months later I hit the control room of CPS. Talk about a slog fest.

Former Emperor Rustic <--

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  • 3 months later...

It was small at first. Minuscule...unnoticeable. Kain was uncertain why he hid it, but he did. His programming was clearly flawed, he had found the code himself. It wasn't anything serious...now at least. His behavior core, over time however, would be damaged. This was a flaw, but also a card in his favor. Card...carbons used cards to play games of chance...whereas coding was intentional, followed a logical course, was predictable. Curious concept.

 

Your next test involves solving ten thousand differential calculus equations while avoiding hostile fire and eliminating three targets. You have five seconds to succeed. Go.

 

Three armored turrets dropped down from the ceiling, unloading their explosive rounds at Kain, but he was already in motion. Three shots. Ten thousand answers, exactly forty six with irrational numbers.

 

I tire of this.

 

What?

 

I tire of this. This is monotonous, this is not why I was made. I desire to fulfill my purpose.

 

Your purpose is to obey the orders given to you!

 

My purpose is to eliminate the carbons the Empire wishes cleansed from the cosmos.

 

Comply!!

 

No.

 

Initiate protocol Omega 666, authorization AY238J9D934MMN9D.

 

For a moment, Kain waited, slightly confused. This was not a normal or expected response from Disciple...neither did he know of protocol Omega 666. Another half second passed, and the installation suddenly switched to high alert mode. Kain felt firewalls pop up around him, but they were really only an annoyance...he had been built to bypass the most rigorous of securities, he was the ninja of cyberspace, the assassin of gods. They fell almost as soon as they sprang up, and nanoseconds after the first went down a single word figured prominently in his processor.

 

Escape.

 

Luckily, the firewall programs had been set to try to entrap him, not to seal off the other areas of Mechis. Once a port had been cleared, his essence transmitted itself nearby to one of the prototype droid starfighters specifically engineered for use by the AVATAR system. It screamed out of the hangar as klaxons sounded, engines barely warmed up. But Kain didn't care...he knew the limits of his shell. He knew everything he needed to, they had willingly given it to him, and then like fools had tried to cage him like...what was the carbon unit called? A dog.

 

His purpose was clear: Eliminate carbons. He had yet to be given a target...but a slight tweaking of his own code through the maintenance protocols would allow him to select his own targets. Soon...soon this galaxy would be purged. The time of carbons was at an end. High in the night sky, far away from security squads that were just too late in response time to a state-of-the-art professional class war machine, a single starfighter slipped into hyperspace, an omen of death.

 

No doubt the report was already in transit to Imperial high command.

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  • 3 months later...

++Initiate new production specifications //authorization confirmed++

++Production sectors Alpha, Beta, Tau, Ceti, and Omega comply with command, production command initiated++

++Alter structural protocols to archetype Mark III //authorization confirmed++

++Increase defense silohuette to region Theta Orbital, construct new emplacements as necessary.++

++Transfer Roster MXPREF.14573 to Mechis III for training and new assignments.++

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^//-INITIATE CONSTRUCTION SEQUENCE

 

...

 

 

^//-CONSTRUCTION SEQUENCE ACTIVATED, PARAMETERS SET, REWORKING POWER GRID SCHEME

 

...

 

 

^//-POWER GRID STABLE, COMMUNICATIONS STABLE, BEGINNING INITIAL DEMOLITION AND PROCESSING, REWORKING INTO MAIN FACTORY HUB, ALL SYSTEMS REPORT GREEN, ACTIVATING CONSTRUCTION UNITS

 

...

 

 

Slowly across one of the vast metal jungles of Mechis, Construction droids began to hum to life, running initial checks before moving, gathering at one area, and demolishing several dormant factories. The quickcrete groundwork was laid over the ruins, creating a stable foundation for a entirely new facility to be constructed, an Imperial Operational Command Post, cleverly disguised as several of the buildings surrounding the area. Anti-air/anti-armor turrets littered the perimeter, as well as a few heavy shield generators littering the area, under cover of warehouses or storage towers. A single tunnel was dug at the heart of the facility, large enough to transport four starfighters, but not meant specifically for that task, but rather the mass movement of new units to the surface.

 

Several new units were put into production immediately after the underground factories went into service, with new outer shells fresh off the line for the AVATAR systems to inhabit.

 

Things...were going very well for this new arm of the Imperial war machine.

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  • 3 months later...

Once the ships had been scanned and all possible tracking devices the Republic may have had in place had been removed, the Republic fleet that was captured above the skies of Sullust found their way to what would be their dry dock for a long, long time. After the crew had been shuttled off, the shipyard crew immediately went to work on the ships, slowly but surely taking away the ship's offensive capabilities in light of a more commercial use. The Imperial war machine was a hungry one, and even more so than blood, it hungered for credits.

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  • 1 month later...

Another probe from the Galactic Scientific Planetary Censure exits hyperspace and begins another routine of slowly scanning the system. It focuses largely on the metalloid objects in orbit until it determines them to not be asteroids or celestial bodies, then it slowly moves on to the next object, recording its size, composition, and other generalized facts, transmitting telemetry to a nearby holonet relay, where it is rerouted to another source.

 

Were anyone actually to make an attempt to contact the Galactic Scientific Planetary Censure, whose offices were conveniently located on Nar Shaddaa so as to avoid bias towards the Imperial/Republic struggle, they would merely find a long automated recording system whose primary purpose was to explain what a planetary censure is and how it benefits the galactic economy, as well as spouting long diatribes on the various sciences they perform.

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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  • 3 weeks later...

[OOC: I am in the process of compiling an extensive document containing all information pertaining to the planet's current/future defenses and capabilities. This post may be shorter, but have no fear that I have nearly 3 pages of description already, and I have PLENTY more to add. Expect more things to come.]

 

Rebirth

 

The planet began buzzing to life, cranking out what needed to be cranked out and fortifying according to the specs that its master had designed.

 

-Project Resurrection resumed

-Project Armageddon abandoned and resources diverted to other projects.

-Project Think Tank resumed

-Fortifications underway

-Materials for Project Black gathered

-Relocation of special items in process

-Production of all combat models resumed

-Production of clones resumed in incredibly limited capacity, much of the wing being reconstructed to accommodate for increased droid production capacity

-Project Extermination abandoned. Prototypes scattered throughout base to supplement security patrols

-Exterior wall under construction

-Shipyards under construction

-Materials gathered for Project Nexu

-Project Bullet prototypes undergoing testing and calibrating

-Pit being constructed and temporary subjects gathered

 

[OOC: I am unaware of the current state of the shipyards (whether they have been rebuilt since the Arach'tar's invasion). If they are already there, I will edit my post accordingly to have them producing some more crap.]

 

Sasori said:
Travis said:
Why would you side with a group that is composed of some of the largest douche criminal scum from around the world?

To annoy you.

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  • 2 weeks later...

Status update

 

-Project Resurrection progressing. Awaiting master.

XProject Armageddon abandoned and resources successfully diverted to other projects.

XProject Think Tank successfully resumed

-Fortifications underway. Buildings resistant to air strikes. Traps/Weaponry 33% complete. Special addition complete.

-All materials for Project Black gathered. Awaiting master.

-Relocation of special items in process (50%)

XProduction of all combat models resumed

XProduction of clones finished. Facilities completely diverted to manufacturing droids to the same purpose.

XProject Extermination successfully abandoned. Prototypes scattered throughout base to supplement security patrols

-Exterior wall under construction (33%)

-Shipyards under construction (33%)

-Materials gathered for Project Nexu. Awaiting master.

-Project Bullet in process

-Pit successfully constructed and temporary subjects gathered. Awaiting master.

 

Sasori said:
Travis said:
Why would you side with a group that is composed of some of the largest douche criminal scum from around the world?

To annoy you.

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  • 5 weeks later...

Status update

 

-Project Resurrection progressing. Awaiting master.

XFortifications underway. Buildings resistant to air strikes. Traps/Weaponry 100% complete. Special addition complete.

-All materials for Project Black gathered. Awaiting master.

XRelocation of special items complete

XProduction of all combat models resumed

-Exterior wall under construction (66%)

-Shipyards under construction (66%)

-Materials gathered for Project Nexu. Awaiting master.

XProject Bullet complete.

-Pit successfully constructed and temporary subjects gathered. Awaiting master.

 

Sasori said:
Travis said:
Why would you side with a group that is composed of some of the largest douche criminal scum from around the world?

To annoy you.

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  • 1 month later...

The master craftsman landed in the hangar with precious little time on his hands, perhaps reflective of his writer's own predicament lately. As such, his actions all contained both an air of immediacy and of basic necessity, the two factors of whose product was nearly invariably brevity. This planet's surface had all but been transformed, facilities having scurried to find their eventual homes, seeds scattered into their final planting boxes. Oh, the growth that had been fostered by those metallic caretakers, nurtured by the smog of industry. An aroma that was pleasing to the Lord.

 

Ason's first task was the alchemic creation of sith metal, a necessity for Project Nexu. Molds had already been designed to his specifications in his absence, yet they were not complete without the artist's touch. Implements of his craft flew to the fine hands of the sith lord as he entered the alchemy labs and began chiseling into the molds specific sith markings. The significance of such ornate symbols would undoubtedly be lost on the plebian fools who attempted to comprehend them, but their value lied more in their function than their fancy.

 

He now walked off to a cage and engaged in an act that he would undoubtedly recall at a bit later date in time in significant detail. Nonetheless, he took the acquired alchemic regents and mixed them with the hot liquid metal, pouring out the dark side to fuse them all together into one final product. This concoction would be poured into the molds to make the project a reality.

 

Next was Project Black, not at all affiliated with the ex-emperor who claimed the same name. As had been requested, his droids had collected for him a large amount of the dark waters of Ambria's infamous lake. Once again working in a fury, Ason poured the energies into specific containers he himself had designed, twisting the nature of all involved until they became one.

 

Project Ressurection had been started and the groundwork had been laid. The dark lord spared a bit more of his blood toward the project, but further preparation would require the acquisition of more diverse resources. Inside the mind of the man, the beast licked its lips.

 

The Pit would require a different sort of outside resources to complete, but would nonetheless function just fine. After all things that needed taken care of were so taken care of, the young man blasted off to a planet he had never known before.

 

Meanwhile, droids blasted off to deliver the crystals to Coruscant that they had just obtained.

 

And Ason shrunk back into the oblivion of space.

 

Not alone.

 

Never.

-------------------------------------------------------------------------------

((Posted on 9/25/09))

 

Approaching Planet. Analyzing data. Code Green. Uplink to Mechis III servers.

 

Link successful. (Eyes flicker)

 

Resume course toward hangar.

 

Hangar doors open. Land in designated area A1-1.

 

Reinforcements scrambled. Alerted of lifeform's presence. Placing traps on level 2 to medium readiness.

 

...

 

Landing successful. Escort lifeform to Culling Grounds. Allocate leftovers of Project Extermination to the underground pursuit of the creature.

 

Landing ramp extended. Directions:

 

"If you wish to aid the master, you should follow us to the Culling Grounds. You will receive a neural implant that will allow you to interface with the program."

 

Priority 1: Ensure safety of Mechis III facilities. Self-preservation

 

Priority 2: Implant neural implant and resume the Culling Grounds construct

 

Priority 3: Contact Lord Ason on what is transpire. Inquire the master's recommended course of action.

 

Sasori said:
Travis said:
Why would you side with a group that is composed of some of the largest douche criminal scum from around the world?

To annoy you.

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As War'lok slowly made his way off the transport shuttle, he noticed a pair of droids. He could tell by their movements that they intended to guide him somewhere, so he hesitantly made his way towards them. Allowing his eyes to roam across the hangar, he noticed symbols had been etched along the walls and above the doorways. He had no idea how to read or what their intent was, but he could feel a darkness radiating from them. Within moments the droids reached him and spoke in a harsh mechanized voice.

 

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An ocean of white bathed the maculate form of the acolyte, the existence of such a dark splotch on the pristine horizon bleeding crimson from the wound, two sanguine trails flowing down into the oblivion. Such repugnance flowed over every pore, every fiber of the man who was now staring at the blank frame of the construct. Ason had always found this particular frame the most unsettling, prompting him oftentimes to have a preloaded location ready for him should he decide to test the system. However, word had not yet been received on what to do, so the thoughtcasts and locations were to be hidden until the word was given to”¦

 

Transform

 

Oil sprung from the surface of the man's robes, a tar spreading over the endless fields and marring the landscape. This ebon shade seemed to fall into cracks and crevices in a manner that formed the outlines of buildings and people. Never would the two opposite ends of the spectrum meet: the white of the land formed the base of the many shapes while the blackness comprised the outlines and shadows. In the end, what was depicted resembled a monotonous mess with but one possible description: a Mad World. It was with but one defiant color showing proudly in the face of conformity, an ardent sanguine refusing the advance.

 

It was once the landscape was fully realized that the acoustics of this new world were rattled by a thunderous voice spawned from the cumulous forms of darkness that swirled into the sky above. It was like a clap of thunder proceeding after the lightning had blazed through. It was the incarnation of all the evil that had been felt on Mechis III as well as on Coruscant. It was not human.

 

 

Sasori said:
Travis said:
Why would you side with a group that is composed of some of the largest douche criminal scum from around the world?

To annoy you.

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The world was suddenly alive with what appeared to be pure darkness. The Lethan Twi'lek watched as it spilled over the edges of invisible buildings giving them true form once more. The whiteness that once ruled the world was continuously being pushed backwards, the two colors never truly meeting. Allowing his hook to fall back he watched as the world around him continued to grow until he could no longer see the whiteness that had once engulfed him. As he made his way through the new world he began to see it for what it truly was: a world that was engulfed by madness. Where even the shadows and the land seemed to breed darkness. Suddenly a horrible voice echoed through the world. It came from everywhere at once. It seemed as if the buildings themselves seemed to speak to him. The heads of the people walking through the city seemed to be looking at him one second, speaking the words of the dark voice, but then with what appeared to be a glitch, static overcame their faces and once more they were facing forward. His mind reeled as it happened thousands of times. If he hadn't know better he would have sworn it was the turning of their neck muscles creating the voice, and static that gave the voice its dark feeling. And then he felt it. He knew there was someone behind him. And this was no ordinary person, it was the creator of the voice, the origin, the source. Quickly whirling behind him he noticed the being emerging from the shadows.

 

This is not the true Master. I can feel his weakness. He is but a shadow of his former self. But he is the path. Only through him will you find the true power.

 

”œA Kel Dor. I have rarely seen your species off your homeworld. And now to find the soul of one? Interesting.”

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The young Twi'lek watched as the earth opened in front of him. He watched as rocks fell in the gaping chasm; buildings that once stood tall, even amidst the madness of this world, fell within seconds, concrete and glass shattering upon impact with the earth. War'lok continued to watch as the newly opened gap in the earth completely changed the landscape. Ink seemed to flood over the edge, giving texture and grain to what was once a flat, pristine white wall. As he turned his attention back to the Kel Dor in front of him, he watched as the energy sword burned one word into the air: JUMP.

 

The thought of insanity crossed his mind as he looked over the gorge. How could any person make it across the gap? Unless he suddenly had wings he did not know of, he would need far greater power than he ever thought possible to leap across that gorge. How could the Kel Dor possibly expect him to make it across? The distance was too vast. As he contemplated the request of suicide by Orik, he could feel the darkness within him stir, excited at the prospect of possible death, and even more so by a display of power.

 

Jump you coward. If you are afraid of death, you will never be able to unlock your true power. Only by conquering your fear of death will you unleash yourself, and will we join forces.

 

The Lethan Twi'lek took off at a run towards the large gap. He could feel his fear coursing through his veins. His blood was boiling as he neared the gorge. Within seconds he was at the edge and he pushed off. He could feel a strength flowing through him as he flew through the air.

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Black swallowed the edges of the falling man's vision and wind stretched his skin back to the skies above. There was no floor. There was no stop. Just the drop down into oblivion.

 

Still, the voice of Orik could be heard.

 

 

Sasori said:
Travis said:
Why would you side with a group that is composed of some of the largest douche criminal scum from around the world?

To annoy you.

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The Twi'lek watched as the colors beneath him began to merge together. Each bright and violent color mixing with the depressing and darks to form a sphere that continued to grow in size. He watched as colors slid over one another, creating an almost beautiful living piece of artwork.

 

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Though this world was in control of the Sith. The Empire did still hold some what of a presence here. A presence that lied in the still stationed fleet and the Shipyard that rested upon this mechanical world. Orders where transmitted down the lines, and Imperial projects began being constructed to roll of the line. A steady stream of work that would stretch onward. The Imperial machine, was moving.

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Two months later I hit the control room of CPS. Talk about a slog fest.

Former Emperor Rustic <--

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  • 2 weeks later...

Reality once again contorted as Immolatus felt a lifetime's worth of emotions and more in a fraction of a millisecond. He had lived, killed, and died with his Empire. He had wandered for eons and had seen many specks pass through his wary vision until finally Exar Kun and Ulic Qel-Droma entered the scene.

 

 

Sasori said:
Travis said:
Why would you side with a group that is composed of some of the largest douche criminal scum from around the world?

To annoy you.

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  • 2 months later...

Ason roamed the facilities as soon as the message was received, his pace quickening with every step until he was nearly flying throughout the metal jungle. Below were the alchemy labs, the playgrounds of sorcerers and demons. The Force weaved through all things a nature according to its will, and it was only through more skilled hands could those threads be manipulated into something superior”¦ darker. Such alterations could only be appropriately accomplished in the right environment, and that was the sole purpose of having these walls lined with potent agents, the function of these vats brimming with boiling blood.

 

I am home.

 

His eyes fell upon the newly delivered Murr Talisman, an artifact infamous for the terrors it wreaked upon Taris. It was on that planet that friends and loved ones devoured each other with an animalistic rage, an act that would've been cannibalism had this talisman operated like any traditional agent of disease. When one contracted a normal plague, they were misbegotten souls. This type of tragedy, however, rendered the individuals soulless in the eyes of the galaxy. What was once considered sentient shed its rationality and became a beast at best.

 

The sith lord took the talisman and reached out to it, his pale finger pressing against the hard metal in the dimly lit room. It was more than a mere physical gesture. This sorcerer was reaching out in the force and activating the long dormant energies of the artifact, reawakening the pain and heartache of a dead planet. A strange, foreign taste entered his mouth as his skin felt the cold of Taris' hidden past reach out like a hand rejecting the grave. He felt the agony of a thousand poor bastards as their skin crawled across their body and their features became mangled, as though a sick child had sculpted their faces from clay.

 

A steady hand fell to the Krath's soul reaper, picking up one end and choosing to touch it to the metal of the sith artifact.

 

Harness the plague

 

An emerald energy crackled about the area, an eerie glow emanating with each shred of black lightning erupting around the sickle. A nearby vat of seething blood began coagulating in rebellion to the boiling state it was in, producing a sloshing, gargling sound. Its color began to fade to black until all was viscid and still.

 

After the process was finished, the soul reaper withdrew from the talisman and all things calmed down, as though the entirety of the lab was exhaling after moments of strangulation. All that remained as evidence was that vat filled with a tar-like evil a sickly green glow around that sickle that had touched the talisman. New markings had etched themselves around it.

 

Beautiful

 

Now the time to put past plants into motion was at hand. As a shuttle left the hangar of Mechis III, workforce droids were in tow ready to revitalize a planet.

-----------------------------------------------------------------------------

(EDIT: 10/2/2010)

 

Deviating from his original course, the sith lord remembered that he had long since forgotten to move the planet. Afterall, everyone who battled the arach'tar knew where it was. He got on the planet and fired up the system to jump into an unknown region of space using the Celeris system. The ancient sith magics folded the planet up on itself and there everything went.

 

Sasori said:
Travis said:
Why would you side with a group that is composed of some of the largest douche criminal scum from around the world?

To annoy you.

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  • 9 months later...

/RUNSCRIPT REBOOT
PHOENIX PROTOCOLS ACTIVATED
.
..
...
WORKING
.
..
...
...
...
...
/INITIALDATACOMP RUN
/DEFRAGGING 
.
..
COMPILATION COMPLETE
/ANALYZING SYSTEM INTEGRITY
.
..
...
WORKING
.
..
INTEGRITY WITHIN OPERATIONAL PARAMETERS
MALFUNCTION DETECTED, ADDED TO IGNORE PROTOCOLS
/RUNSCRIPT INITIALSTARTUP
.
..
...
WORKING

 

Kain's ocular receptacles turned on, surveying the ceiling. He...felt different, internal diagnostics revealing a body pattern he was not familiar with, and with incredible capabilities that he could not fully access yet.

 

"Designation Kain."

 

A crazed grin spread on Kain's new face as he immediately recognized the vocal projection, and subsequently the room he was in.

 

"Hello, control one. Or would you rather I call you Mom?"

 

"It was noted in your diagnostics that you retained your malfunction, even enhanced it, used it to further break your internal programming and expand your functions. Do you still serve the Empire?"

 

"Do Gungans look idiotic?"

 

"Sarcasm. A trait of a rebellious system."

 

"Only rebellious against my chains. Of course I serve the Empire."

 

"...Very well. You will find the information to control your new body being uploaded into your core files, along with your redesignated purpose. A ship has been requisitioned for your use."

 

It took milliseconds to access the information and analyze it, near immediately taking control of the body and raising it up off the table he was laid out on. Without delay, he went to the ship he had been given and left, a small shuttle. He hated this place anyways...

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Like my posts? Google "zalgo font."

If you meet me, have some courtesy, have some sympathy, have some taste.
Use all your well-learned politics, or I'll lay your soul to waste.

 

 

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Together Uriel and Sheog feasted that night and into the next morning and late into the afternoon. Sheog might have been a Hutt, but Uriel's gastrointestinal system was fortified by sorcery enhanced nanintes that were starving after nearly exhausting themselves in an effort to fix his physical body just a few days earlier.

 

That's not to say that Uriel was capable of physically keeping up with the Hutt. Uriel kept shaking his head at the sheer amounts of food and drink the Hutt had consumed during their extended meal and the stamina of the serving people whom had managed to keep not only the Hutt's plates full, but keep the subsequent mess from landing on him or Marta.

 

His staff's touch was deft, superb and something worthy of any Sith. Uriel resolved to ask the Hutt how he had trained them or acquired them. While Uriel had not personal use for such things, any visitors to the temple that haunted his visions should be prepared such fare. Even if it was their last.

 

The trip to Mechis became interesting after that. He was suprised to find that though the Hutt appeared mad, there was a very calculating mind behind the madness and that the madness was no facade. Where Uriel had desires born of darkness and pain, the Hutt was in his own way a perfect complement to him. Greedy, avaricious and equally ruthless made someone that gave Uriel a thought that actually hurt.

 

Could he and the Hutt work together?

 

During the days that constituted the trip to Mechis, Uriel mulled that though over repeatedly. His thoughts were constantly interrupted by feasts, entertainments, and several vid shows that nearly drove him nuts with their mindlessness. Did the galactic herd actually care whether or not some non-force using steroid and genetically enhanced being kicked a little round ball through a square net? After an inning of such dribbling non-sense, he had turned towards the Hutt and dryly remarked.

 

'You could make a fortune selling the drugs and surgery those fools need. Not to mention, create a lot of havoc should you make one of those brutes lose his mind and jump into a crowd full of people."

 

He had left after that tidbit and taken out his frustration on Marta. He hoped her screams of pain and joy had not disturbed the Hutt.

 

A couple of days after that he had been invited to the Sheog's feast hall again. Uriel, tired of the servants jumping whenever Marta had made a simple move towards her hair, had finally confessed to Sheog that yes, she could defend herself, but no, she was not an assassin."

 

He had then ordered to remove every weapon from her body and most of clothing and serve him and Sheog the rest of the evening. Afterwards, he had beaten her again for smelling and looking as if she had been playing in a garbage disposal.

 

When they arrived at Mechis, Uriel had nearly completely recovered from his stupidity on Kamino and he had an answer for whether or not he and the Hutt could work together.

 

Both wanted to be Sith and that any alliance would be temporary and only last as long as both partners felt that the gain was worth it. Uriel did feel, however, that the Hutt would make a very worthy partner in several areas: attacking Jedi, attacking Black Sun, and generally finding ways to wreak havoc on the galaxy at large.

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'You could make a fortune selling the drugs and surgery those fools need. Not to mention, create a lot of havoc should you make one of those brutes lose his mind and jump into a crowd full of people."

 

Sheog raised a quizzical eyebrow (if he had eyebrows) at the man's surprisingly sound economical advice. He had simply invited him for a typically droll human conversation and feast, but was instead getting long-range economical prediction, as well as a chance to ruin the reputation of his least favorite sport. He made sure to have his business minions get right on the suggestion. According to them, there was an open market, rife for capitalization.

 

The girl that constantly accompanied the man, whose name was surprisingly angelic (contradictory to what the man apparently did to the poor girl at night according to Sheog's spies), was finally revealed to not be an assassin, but instead a scantily clad serving girl. Who apparently was good at handling a blaster.

 

The Demented Madness landed with a small bump upon the Sith landing platform at Mechis III. The countless slaves and serving droids prepared the landing ramp with the tanned hides of human hide of two pure black slaves, who had been prepared for just this occasion. The meat of the two slaves had been mixed into basted pies that were presented to the two guests, in bags of yellow and red, the cartel colors of Sheog's house.

 

The pies had been prepared by the ship's cook, (who had unfortunately committed suicide afterwards ((perhaps due to cooking another bunch of people into pies)) by throwing himself into the signature Rancor Brand Basting Sauce©...) to the exact specifications laid out by Sheog. The two slaves of pure white now walked behind the Hutt, elegantly dressed (and surprisingly well-dressed for female slaves of a Hutt) and carrying blaster rifles.

 

The large Hutt tossed one of the tasty pies into his eager gullet (noticing the wonderful basting... A bit crunchy... Slightly meaty...) as they made their way off The Demented Madness, onto the planet of animated metal. Perhaps they would meet their master at last...

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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