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As the great Hutt vessel dropped from the comforting blue folds of hyperspace, the piloting droids quickly began the proper landing procedures, selecting the location of Ason's temple, where Sheog had once before pushed himself about. Within the communication station, the Hutt sent forth a highly encrypted set of messages to through the proper Com relays towards the location of the selected force users.

 

The Demented Madness landed lightly upon the decking of the landing platform, sending up a small wave of dust and random bits of paper. Sheog pushed himself quickly down the landing ramp, hopefully followed by his honored guest, and began to summon the force about himself. With a burst of gluttonous power, Sheog let his presence become a beacon, hopefully one his old master would follow. There was also another presence here that Sheog now felt... One that had given him enough precaution to come down the landing ramp heavily armed.

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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Ares's shuttle descended towards the planet below after it exited hyperspace, heading straight for the Sith factories. ((the majority of the post is self-nulled after conferring with a mod))

 

Ares had noticed several surges of Force energy emanating nearby from other Sith, specifically one that felt like he was calling out to someone who was supposed to meet him there. Not having anything else better to do, he followed the presence to its source, activating his Force mask as he got close. It was coming from a ship the Sith Master now stood outside of, and calmly waited to see what would happen.

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Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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Gathering his gear the Shadow Sentinel followed Sheog down the ramp of his ship, pack on, rifle in hand. He probably should have changed out of his dirty combat fatigues.. On a planet as steeped in history as Mechis III looking like a Republic Commando probably wasn't going to serve him anything good. Or even tasty. Probably something cold, hard and vaguely blood flavoured... That or it would warm, intangible and tasting like a lightsaber! Neither were a good choice. besides which after that feast with Sheog he was full! Though he now understood the reason his chair had been so far away from the Hutts.

 

Surveying the land around them Gren couldn't help but notice a certain bleakness about it. He could certainly feel it, through the force. He could feel the darkside here. And something more. Something twisted. This place... It seemed was tainted far worse than anything he'd ever felt before... And he'd gotten up close and personal with Geki!

 

Watching a figure approach Gren felt the man through the force. Sith. Definitely Sith. He resisted the urge to clench his rifle. The old days were gone. Gren wasn't a Republic Soldier any more. Now he was a Shadow Sentinel. He would work with anyone that could bring something useful to the cause. Sith, Jedi both were the same. Force Users in general were. He hadn't met many Grey Ones in his travels... But if he did he'd try and get some training out of it. See if he couldn't raise himself to a standard on par with the Sith and the Jedi yet separate.

 

Pushing a wa any fear or loathing he may have felt and replacing it with his usual resilient humour Gren nodded to the newcomer.

 

"Hullo old bean. Here about that ad in the paper?"

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Sheog breathed in the polluted air and laughed heartedly. It was good to be back to the home of his master. His smile broadened as he saw a figure approaching, feeling a new presence through the force, one he had never felt before. He quickly pushed his way down the ramp, leaning on his ceremonial staff, and laughed once more as his compatriot spoke beside him.

 

"Hullo old bean. Here about that ad in the paper?"

 

Sheog nodded in agreement, continuing to pour power into projecting his presence, if his master had cloned himself, he would find them very easily. In order to support his gluttonous connection to the force, Sheog removed another handful of white worms from his side-bag and placed the struggling, delicious, worms into his gullet. He concealed a belch, for the politeness of company, keeping his eyes open for any approaching figures, and his force senses open to sense any type of danger. Uncorking his large canteen of Cortyg Brandy, and fishing three very clean, large, glasses from his side-bag, he suspended them in the air with the force, like they were sitting upon a barroom table. He laughed and filled the floating glasses to the brim with the amber, intoxicating liquid. With a small tweak in his mind, he sent one glass floating to Darth Ares, one to Gren, and then nabbed one for himself. Raising it high, he spoke a toast.

 

<>

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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((Btw, when my Force mask is activated, you shouldn't be able to feel my presence. See my char sheet/wookieepedia for more info))

 

Ares didn't drink from the cup presented to him, but he took it nonetheless, removing his mask and lighting a death stick. He took a long drag as he eyed the two before him, finally speaking as he exhaled.

 

"I got your message. And yes, I'll help. But only because our goals are one and the same, I do not answer to you, it would be wise to remember that. We are brethren among the title Sith, but I serve another's will."

 

He wasn't trying to be a complete ass, but that's simply how it was. Taking another pull off his death stick, he set the cup down on a nearby crate, turning back to them with a much less cold body language.

 

"So. What leads do you have so far? I wasn't able to dig anything up."

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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(Pardon mate)

 

Gren looked to the new Sith. Now he had two allies. A message came in on his wristpad. Checking it as everyone puffed on their Deathsticks it was a short read. Another attack. On Nar Shadda. Same group was suspected to be involved. Video footage from Naboo and Nar Shadda identified a number of individuals involved in the first attack, Bespin their was no information about but interestingly enough their was one other person involved on Nar Shaddaa. The ship was the key. They had half decent intelligence on it. It wouldn't be too hard to spot it.

 

"First things first lets be clear on who we all are. I'm an Antarian Ranger, not a Sith nor a Jedi. This is my show. It was me who has been tasked with forming a group to deal with this issue and others like it. The core team has been established from amongst the best soldiers the Galaxy has to offer. Imperial and Republic plus whichever Mercs we thought cut the grade. You chaps aren't subordinated to anyone. You're partnered directly to me. With the authority to use specific resources and methods in completion of our goals. I suspect someone strong in the force is in on it. Hence why I am requesting Sith and Jedi assistance. You two are free to come and go as you please. But you're not military, you don't answer to anyone. What's the catch? You do something nasty and I'll probably be tasked to hunt you down next right before the order comes in to have me hung up by my heels. That being said when you work with me you have some real power on your hands. To do whatever, wherever, whenever. You don't need evidence. You don't have boundaries. You don't have to answer to anyone. You find the bad guy. You kill the bad guy. End of story. No red tape. No fuss. Destroy anything the enemy can use as propaganda and our PR boys are coming up with something to soothe the civis we step on by accident. Short version. You can come and go as you please. Whilst you're here you work with me. Not for me. Get unlimited resources and access to some pretty cool stuff. Open door policy."

 

He flicked a few buttons on his wristpad. Getting exact details of the situation as far as this current crisis went.

 

"Here's what we have. Theed City on Naboo was attacked by a small group. Approximately four members. Started in some bar then they damn near destroyed the city. The Int Cell suspects they flew a small highly modified rather grotesque freighter in. Its the only ship they IDed around Theed that was also spotted at Bespin. Which other than long distance visuals taken from nearby platforms we know nothing about. Cloud City is gone. Dropped to the depth. I saw it myself and I felt the force there. It was... Twisted. That is why I suspect a force user and to be honest it felt similar to a few Sith I've met. Not the same but close enough to them that I think it was the same Order. Now our latest intel has Nar Shadda as a prime suspect of their last visit. A Jedi was very brutally killed inside a bar... Funny how these guys like bars so much eh? Anyways he was attacked by at least four individuals in this bar and at the same time a fifth individual destroyed a power plant. Cutting off any further information we can get from security cams. Int Cell however is on planet and trying to scramble data from witnesses. Same ship as seen on Naboo and Bespin left shortly after the attack. Jedi have begun swarming the planet too so we're going to try and to get a few of them on board. Make this a Symbolic victory as much as a quest for Justice. That being said our first stop should be Nar Shadda or if the Jedi have left we find them. I still want two Jedi on board with this. Alright we good? Questions?"

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Ares took a long moment to mull over the information, finally making eye contact with the other man again.

 

"It's funny how you say if we do something nasty we're next on the barbecue, yet encourage the notion that getting creative with our methods includes the ends justifying the means. Sounds pretty much like a political trap to me."

 

Ares grunted out a half laugh, grinning as he finished off his cigarette and flicked the butt to the ground.

 

"Like I ever let that stop me before. Like I said, the only reason I'm here is because our goals are the same. You obviously have access to a lot higher intelligence than I was able to pull from the limited access CoreSec gave me. That's particularly useful to me. Whether or not I'll be judged for my actions, I'll complete my mission. You're free to hunt me down when we're done, but don't say I didn't warn you when you're collecting on your clone insurance."

 

He didn't particularly like the man, but at the same time really didn't have a reason to dislike him either. For the time being it was really only pissing contest semantics, when two badasses met, one always had to uphold their reputation, and Ares was most certainly a badass. He locked eyes with him for a moment, slowly walking past him and up the ramp to the ship, sitting down and resting in the common area.

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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Sheog nodded slowly as he listened to Gren's monologue. The idea was a good one, and something that would have his full support. His grimy hand played across the length of his ceremonial staff, feeling the knobs and grooves of the soul reaper that adorned one end and the indent from where the lightsaber's ginger blade would leap on the other. He smiled as the other man walked slowly past them both and entered The Demented Madness, where he would be greeted by a serving girl bearing a large platter of delicious foodstuffs. He turned to Gren and nodded once more.

 

<>

 

He smiled kindly and pushed his way past the Galactic Alliance Soldier Diplomat towards where he felt a darker presence emanating. Sheog followed the presence slowly, and after a few minutes, it guided him to a laboratory. With one grimy hand, he flipped a few switches on the wall and the lamps mounted on the ceiling ignited, bathing the room with warm, yellow light, reminiscent of the sun. On one wall, there rested an oversized tank, in which lay the cloned body of his master. Sheog's eyes widened, and he quickly set to work preparing for his master's imminent rebirth. He found a set of dark robes, the approximate size of the Sith Lord and laid them beside the tank, along with a towel for the Sith to dry himself with.

 

Upon the centre table, he laid out his master's weapons: the red mist shurikans, the long-blade of Orik Bendan, and lastly his master's soul reaper. He filled the tip of his staff, where the soul reaper was located, with more power, and tapped it twice against the side of the tank, letting the power seep into the tank, like a dye into a cup of water. It would awake Ason, and perhaps make him slightly less pissed. Bendan was in hell, and would never possess another soul, so Sheog believed himself to be in relative safety.

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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Gren chuckled as the two Sith departed. This time he wouldn't follow Sheog. Though he would keep his eyes open in case of trouble and be ready to move in if necessary. Wouldn't do to have his first ally and the one responsible for all this die on him. It would certainly be bad for business anyway. On that note he didn't particularly feel like swapping warries with the other Sith.

 

Finishing off his own smoke he dropped the butt on the ground and crushed it with his boot. Ensuring all opposition to the might of his fire putting outing was crushed before he turned and strode back up the ramp himself. He still needed a few more members for his team. Two Jedi and another Sith... IF he could find him. He had little to no idea where Geki was not having heard of him or his ship being active in quite some time.

 

Going to the commons onboard he found the Ares again. I feasted with Sheog... And oh how that Hutt can Eat! Guess I can talk to Ares too Turning to the Sith he spoke.

 

"So... You like... Stuff?"

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Gonzo exited his shuttle craft and took in his first sight of Mechis III, "A Labratory, a droid factory and a volcano in the distance, some planet. Lets hope that I can find someone here who can train me and help with my vengence"

 

Gonzo enters The Demented Maddness and takes a seat off to the side.

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The Sith Acolyte, Grace, whom Sheog had recruited during his fight against Ason Antilles, noticed the stranger's (Lockjaw's) entrance into The Demented Madness, the oversized feasting-craft of her gluttonous master. She adjusted her jet-black robes and slipped past the two talking men, (Ares and Gren) and lightly tapped a control panel on the wall. A silent alarm buzzed in the security room, which was in turn sent on by one of seven technicians to the armory section of The Demented Madness. An alert was also sent to Sheog's datapad, labeled: INTRUDER ALERT.

 

Grace, the skin on her face and arms still bandaged from the fire's burning grasp, slowly approached the sitting Barabel, her black-gloved hand resting on the holstered DL-44 on her hip. She smiled at the reptilian creature, and stared into his eyes with her corrupted, yellow gaze. Called forth from their electronic slumber, two of the YVH-class battle-droids slowly approached the sitting barabel from behind, prepared to gun him down if he were to attack the young Grace. The girl's smile brightened and she extended her hand toward the sitting figure, and spoke in a peppy tone,

 

”œHey! I'm Grace! What exactly is your business aboard master Sheog Anjiliac Diresto's grand craft?”

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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Lockjaw looked up at this cloaked figured and her extended hand, he wondered what she had going on behind those yellow eyes of hers, and slightly insulted for possibly trying to kill him with droids, however trying to keep the situation calm he replied in a rather cool tone

 

"I'm looking for someone named Sheog, I was led to believe that I could receive training from him, and by the way you can remove your hand from that weapon, I have no business in killing you". "at least not yet" he thought to Himself.

"But just as a good measure of good faith" Lockjaw stood up and removed his blaster and set it aside and sat back down. "I have little use for that anyway", "after all" he thought "I have plenty of other toys up my sleeves

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Recieving a message from Sheog Gren frowned. Someone had just wandered onto the ship? Who did that? Just jaunted into someones ship without permission? What world lacking manners did this Intruder come from... Or was he hostile?

 

"Well Ares. Nice chatting to you about stuff. Personally though I'm ore of a things man then a stuff man. I'm going to go see if my shooting things skills are required. We can continue this brilliant chat later."

 

Not that Ares had said anything. They hadn't actually managed to get any kind of a conversation off the ground before the Intruder had shown up. Standing he followed through the hatch the girl had gone through. Vaguely curious as to where she had gotten injured. Entering the foyer behind Grace he listened in as they talked. Taking a few moments to assess the situation he decided to move in.

 

"You know. Where I come from its generally considered good manners to introduce oneself before making requests or demands... Also before trespassing onto the ship of another. Especially a Sith.. But what do I know. Former prison colonies aren't know for the manners. Just the Soldiers."

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Grace's golden eyes narrowed slightly at the Barabel's icy countenance and apparent ability o see through the back of his head. She smiled again, taking her black-bound hand from the holster on her side and motioned from for the YVH-1's to stand down. She laughed slowly, her white teeth complimenting her scarred, ashen skin.

 

”œPerhaps if you were to give me your name, I could help you further... Just as master Gren just said.”

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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Ason woke up from that Coruscanti dream to the blackness of the force, his soul reveling in the moments before the rebirth. It was a liberation from a shell too long abused, too pale and shallow from the years of taint. It sought a new body, one that had been prepared for him long before.

 

I'm back.

 

The vat drained and the cold sith stepped out without taking time to dry off. He merely stood there for a second in his nakedness, feeling his new body with a bit of wonder. It had color”¦ this was new. Most striking to him, however, was the lack of that other soul in the back of his mind. He turned toward Sheog who was waiting patiently and had already laid out his things.

 

 

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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Gren grinned his slow grin, locking eyes with Grace.

 

"I think I'll watch this one. And its Gren. Not Master Sairdonga. I work for a living."

 

Seeing the barabel fight didn't really matter to him. But this scarred girl on the other hand. Was somehow appealing. Unslinging his rifle he took a seat off to the side, resting his rifle on his knees his left hand on top of it. His other however was resting on his DL-88. Ready to take the shot if the Barabel got any more violent than absolutely necessary. Not that he knew much about Sith training regimes or how much violence was applied.

 

The Antarian Ranger took it for granted though that if it looked like someone would die or be seriously injured or maimed he would need to step in... Or at least shoot in.

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Grace cracked her neck by placing a fist against her jaw and pushing a bit, placing the pole vertically in the other hand. The time to fight was now. A giggle escaped her lips as the man introduced himself, not at the name itself, but at the Barabel's fierce tone. They were not fighting each other to the death, but only to test one another's combat skills. Her golden eyes played across the Barabel's scaly skin, watching for the muscle tremors of an incoming assault. Grace's vigilance was rewarded as she watched Lockjaw's scales bunch and tense as the reptile prepared for a leap. With a lunge of her own, she jumped to the side, but underestimated the speed of the reptilian beast, and felt a sharp sting across her back as the pole crashed down.

 

She stumbled, but turned the momentum into a spin, aiming a full-weight swing at the side of the Barabel, where it would hopefully land under his outstretched left arm. Pain swirled on her back, like a thousand knives were plunging their blades into her shoulders. Her face distorted from the pain, but she did not lose focus on her attack. She would make the Barabel pay for landing the strike.

 

*********

 

Sheog bowed low as his master spoke to him, once more as a friend and trainer, and no longer as the demon that the Krath had once been possessed by. He was now a Sith Lord, a title of great value and one that would allow him to take on an apprentice. It would create a great opportunity to share his knowledge and philosophy. He bowed his head low, leaning on his Ceremonial Staff.

 

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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Gonzo was enjoying himself, it had been a while since he had been in a proper fight, and despite his opponent's disadvantage with strength she was not without skill and determination. After all, the blow that Gonzo had inflicted on her back would have knocked out any ordinary foe. But still Gonzo's own fighting knowledge with the staff was limited and it would only be a matter of time before his lack of skill would become apparent and reveal a weakness.

”œIt would be best if I ended this soon, although then again there is no sport in taking down prey quickly, why not have some fun with this little one first”

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((OOC: I would not recommend posting the actions of other's named tactical NPCs... Others will get a wee bit pissed.))

 

The half dozen security droids began to fetch crates of thermite explosives from the stockpiles of the Krath and place them into the hold of The Demented Madness, where the technicians would begin to place them around the ship in discreet places (such as in hatches and compartments). A set of 50 kilograms of thermite would be positioned in every hold and room, as well as at the entrances, such as the various ramps and at the entrance to the escape pod. Each explosive set would be linked up together and placed at Sheog's control via encrypted command in his datapad. The control, once launched could not be undone, and only could be reversed by disarming each bundle individually.

 

*********

 

Sheog entered his grandiose craft and immediately sensed the dark tremors of intense battle coming from the training room. He rolled his eyes and hefted his ceremonial staff and entered the training chamber, his mind beginning to swirl with the hunger for the flesh of whoever was in combat. His maddened eyes took in the site of a barabel, whom Grace had described as the intruder, throwing his acolyte against the bulkhead and lowering a jagged piece of wood at her. Gluttonous rage filled his multiple hearts, at the thought of losing the girl whom he had worked so hard to convert to the dark side of the force, and had saved from a terrible fate at the hands of his former master.

 

From within his mind and stomach, Sheog summoned the ravenous powers of the dark side and hurled the force at the Barabel, letting it take the form of a grasping hand, like the hand of a fat child, reaching for a cookie. The power of the force would envelop Lockjaw, and send him hurtling across the training room, but would not smash him into a greasy, scaly stain on the bulkhead, but hold him suspended. Sheog coughed, trying to turn the attention of everyone in the room onto him. With another application of the greedy hand of the force, the Hutt Lord brought Grace back onto her feat.

 

<>

 

Sheog gave Lockjaw another squeeze with the force, as if to punctuate his words. He turned slowly to Gren.

 

<>

 

Sheog smiled and dropped the Barabel on the decking in front of himself. He gave him a casual look over, before summoning the force once more. This time, the insatiable power was not to smite or destroy, but to sense the intentions and force potential of the Barabel before him. A small smile played across his disgusting face.

 

<

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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((yeah sorry about that, will make a note to not do that again))

 

Never in his life had Gonzo the Barabel felt such power, vulnerability, and humiliation, it felt as if every nerve in his body was on fire, every bone being crushed. He began hissing and snarling in utter pain and agony, for the first time ever Gonzo wanted to plead for his life, plead not to die such a terrible death, to be crushed like a grape. Luckily for his pride the sheer pressure from the grasp forced out every single last breath from his lungs, so that all he could do was moan in pain. But just as quickly as the sensation grabbed him, he suddenly felt it release him and collapsed onto the ship deck. It took a while for Gonzo to come back to his senses, but when he did it wasn't pleasant. Every muscle in his body still ached, and he had a strange feeling as if his entire body was covered in a thick slime. Next he hears this strange creature ask him,

 

”œHave you ever thought about joining the Sith?”

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”œThat is why I came to this planet, to give myself to order of the Sith, I am here so that you may teach me in the ways of the force, to make me stronger, and to strike fear and chaos to all who stand before me.”

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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The moment Grace slammed into the wall Grens was up, pistol up and about and pointed downrange straight at Gonzo. If the barabel took even the tinest step towards killing her he'd have a blaster shot blow apart his skull so fast it would look like a blurry red beam of indescribable heat slamming into a watermelon. But before he needed react to any potentially lethal moves on Gonzo's part Sheog arrived.

 

Holstering his pistol he sat back down with his rifle in his lap. Half watching the show in front of him and mildly curious about the droids carrying crate into the ship.. Which turned out to be thermite explosives. With a shrug Gren stood. This was Sheog's ship so Sheog's rules. Personally he wouldn't have laoded it with thermite charges but he was used to working conservatively with minimal impact and maximum efficiency. Self-Destructing wasn't usually too efficient. Standing he slung his rifle again.

 

"No worries Sheog. I think I know what you're getting at... And its 'Mad'ness. But brilliance is just another form of insanity right? Anyway I'll leave you to it. I interrupted a very important conversation with Ares to come check out the stick fight."

 

Turning he made his way back to the common area where Ares was still sitting. Was that drool coming out of the corner of his mouth?

 

"Might want to wipe that away old bean."

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By now Gonzo had no idea what to make of the Sith residing before him, one moment he is hurling him about the room like a child's plaything and now he is smiling, laughing and offering to be his master. But then again isn't that exactly what he really wanted, his whole purpose for traveling across the galaxy and coming to this remote planet, to find a master who would teach him the ways of the force. What of his past though, Gonzo must tell the Hutt something, surely he doesn't want to know everything, but not revealing enough could lead the Hutt into another mood which could prove deadly for Lockjaw. After a moment of consideration, the Barabel began to speak,

”œIf you wish to know of my past, Great Sheog, just know this, I was born into one of the most powerful clans on my home planet, containing the best warriors and the most skilled hunters, of whom I learned a great deal from during my youth. However our enemies conspired against us and recognized me as the weak link for being naïve and simple minded. They manipulated me into helping them, twisting my mind to the point where I did not who to trust in anymore, and in the end I betrayed those who were closest to me. When I realized the magnitude of my treachery I exiled myself to the far reaches of space vowing eternal hatred to those who deceived me and that one day I would seek revenge upon them, and I shall do to them exactly what they did to me. I will take control of their minds, and warp their knowledge of reality until every bit of sanity has left them, and when their world has come crashing down I will make them come to me so that I might end them. This is what I shall do to all who oppose me and make me their enemy.”

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A story from the depths of an exile's past. Such history led to delinquency in most youths, and now, Lockjaw would be another exceptional felonious lizard, whose natural instincts had led them to the darker side of the force. Unfortunately, most individuals with issues about their past friends and family usually only cared about power, and not the true tenets of the Sith or the Dark Side. A small flare of anger swept through Sheog's maddened mind, like a gentle breeze, but was quickly swept away by resolve. A firm belief in the ability to change. Anger was a strong ally in battle, but far too often did it lead astray. Sheog nodded solemnly and began to speak slowly.

 

<>

 

Sheog chuckled to himself, enjoying his first lesson as the master. The massive Hutt was distracted from his insanity by the light footsteps of a running Grace. She looked excited, a smile running across her bandaged face, replacing the cringes of pain earned from her duel with Lockjaw. Her glee crashed upon the heap of sloth like ocean waves upon an unyielding cliff. She spoke hurriedly, her voice charged with enthusiasm.

 

”œMaster! There has been an attack upon a hospital on Corellia! It's rumored to be Sith ser! The source came directly from the Corellian police department! It's the marauders!”

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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((Wasn't sure where to post))

 

Ares was silent the whole time, merely watching the pawns dance in their routines, studying them. He really had no intention of talking with Gren, already he didn't like the man, though he also had no reason why. Maybe it was just who they were, or something else...something in their...his...past. Ares tried to think for a moment, but his memories were always just...blurry whenever he tried to remember specifics. He knew most of the hard stuff, people, places, but never knew his whole past. Then again...he was never really meant to, either. Wasn't his focus.

 

He continued simply watching, eyes peering from behind his mask as they made the leap to hyperspace.

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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The great black mech Ezra, a nondescript mass of oblivion upon a starry backdrop, took a step out of hyperspace and delivered its master to Mechis III. The world lay dead, life signs null save for a few small pockets of the Maker's creations, and of course the man himself. Though despite its vacancy, Mechis III had a life of its own, beating and hissing and churning with gears, pistons, and constant waves of electric current in a great chorus of mechanical detachment.

 

But the detachment concealed an awareness, a thing that kept even Julio from proceeding without due note. As Emily stirred from sleep behind him, the Sith reached out to his brother on the planet below.

 

We have much to discuss, you and I.

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Emily eventually became aware of sounds again. The hum of engines, the various beepings that electronics made. She also felt the cold decking beneath her. Suddenly, memory caught up, and she sat up with a gasp.

 

She was in some kind of ship. She couldn't tell much, but it felt small and enclosed. She assumed she was in some kind of cargo hold. That Sith took me? She was puzzled by that, and a little angry. Why? He kidnapped me!

 

She rubbed her throat and winced. There was definitely bruising. She hoped they weren't too dark. The bruised-throat look was not one she wanted to be sporting. As she sat in the hold, she wondered what was going to happen to her. Apprehension tried to take her, but when she began to get nervous, she distanced herself from her emotions as best as she could. There was no point. All she could do now was wait.

Emily%202015_zps34rpkjob.jpg

 

"Days in the sun...what I'd give to relive just one. Undo what's done, and bring back the light."

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((Sorry for the lack of clarification, Em, but we're in a mech. The only space in the thing is in the cockpit. You're in a small, very cramped seat behind me.))

 

The girl stirred, and for a moment Julio considered leaving her in confusion, unseen in front of her as they were separated by a tall seat and a series of display panels, though no controls, buttons, or switches to be seen. Would she panic, scratch and claw at her prison, or remain composed and assess the situation? It was in these sort of moments of desperation where a person's true nature was exposed.

 

She said nothing, and silently examined her throat, near black in the outline of the crushgaunt that put her to sleep. It would be bruised for some time, and her wounded trachea would pain her every time she ate or moved her head side to side. A reminder for some time that her captor had no reservation of hurting her.

 

Ah. The Master turned in his seat to look through the small opening between the displays. You're awake. Maybe now we have time to talk properly.

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