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Phu

 

Astrographical Information

Region: The Colonies

Sector: unknown

System: Phu System

Orbital Position: 2

Moons: 0

Grid Coordinates: J-7

 

Physical Information

Class: Terrestrial

Atmosphere: Type 1 Breathable

Primary Terrain: highly diverse, Earth-like, 76% water

Points of Interest: Jedi fortress

 

Societal Information

Indigenous Species: Phuii

Immigrated Species: humans

Primary Language(s): Galactic Basic

Faction Affiliation: neutral

 

Defense Rating: level 4

 

JediRP Canon History: A tiny, temperate world, Phu has never had a large population. During the war, however, it became the site of a top-secret Jedi fortress and droid-and-weapon factory, commissioned by then-Grandmaster Armiena Darkfire. The base was known to only a few Jedi; even the Jedi Council didn’t know of its existance, and it was never listed in the Jedi Archives. It is very high security, built to be a hidden bunker in times of trouble.

(The temple is built below a metal-rich mountain range, making it impervious to sensor sweeps. The anti-air defenses are also concealed in a similar manner. There are several hangars, all connected to the temple proper by magnetic rail transports, making it very easy to evacuate or defend against a ground assault. It would be impossible to hack through conventional means, and that all forms of sabotage are covered--explosives, poisons, tracking bugs, etc.)

 

Old description:

Phu is a tiny planet which is located in the colonies region near the Unknown Regions. The planet is similair to Earth and different from many Star Wars planets in that it has extremley diverse climate zones. Poles and Tundra in the North and south. the planet is covered with 76% water. Marshlands, Tropical rainforests, Deserts, Mountains, Plateaus, Grasslands, Conifer forests, and dry savannahs. The planet was native to a cephalopod-like creature which was a primitive creature with the makings of intelligent lifeforms. The diversity of speceies still exists and much of the planet is preserved by the Galactic Alliance.

 

First post to the Jedi leadership.

 

 

((Summary compiled by Amidala Skywalker. Thank you!))

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[Associate of the Illinois Mafia since November 2001.]

Member of the Four Horsemen

The League of Shadows

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  • 3 weeks later...

Death III landed on the planet's surface. He was looking for someone. His assignment was simple. He knew who his mark was. But he didn't want to be here. He hated the phuii with a passion. Granted, he could say that about most creatures and peoples. He was just a hateful young man. Nevertheless, these obnoxious, aggressive, little "worms" had a special place on his "To-Kill-List".

 

Inside the small town of Shui on the Eastern Hemisphere of the planet, Kyle moved impatiently through the area. Of course, this only helped him attracted a lot of attention. It was strange for the townspeople to see humans in their town and even more odd to see one fully cloaked. Kyle kept his head down trying not to show his face so as to not reveal he was he was wearing his full suit of armor, helmet included.

 

It wasn't that he cared if it frightened the villagers. He just didn't want his mark to know where he was. He knew where Sei Hung would be.

 

"WHAM!" The doors of the small poorly lit cantina rattled open before coming unhinged and crashing to the floor. Everyone in the bar turned trying to get a glimpse of the perpetrator. However, the bright sunlight from outside blinded them from seeing anything more than a kneeling silhouette. Using this to his advantage, Kyle quickly scanned the on-lookers.

 

"AAHUUGG!" Sei Hung screamed as a blaster shot seared through his tiny brain. Some turned, others screamed, more ran. With his one action, Kyle had created a mass of chaos and confusion.

 

"Shut up!" Kyle yelled through his helmet; however, his helmet's modifications made his voice sound somewhat unnatural and intimidating, which only made the natives panic more.

 

"Shut up!" Kyle repeat now more angry; He could feel his blood beginning to boil. There was something about the sound of mass chaos that unnerved him. He didn't know why. It just did. He couldn't take it anymore. Kyle's repeater blaster clanked on the floor before being swallowed up by his now unneeded cloak. Kyle finally lost even final ounce of control.

 

"Shut up! Shut up! Shut UUuuppp!" He screamed as he unstrapped the Republic shotgun from his back and sprayed the cantina customers. The "scatter-shot" rounds from the semi-automatic weapon quickly sent mugs, tables, chairs, and patrons to the floor. He continued to scream as he mowed down every last phuii in the building.

 

Finally, the noise was gone. With his chest now heaving up and down as he breathed heavily, Kyle paused to calm himself. He turned to the corpse of Hung.

 

"Talk that as a lesson. Never see my father or anyone in your family faulty merchandise!" He paused. "Thanks for your cooperation. I'm glad to know that you won't do that again in the future," he finished grabbing his cloak and blaster and exiting the doorway.

 

He briskly walked back across town towards his vessel. He wasn't fast enough, though. The local authorities were already heading to find the source of the commotion. Within no time they surrounded him.

 

He was nowhere close to scared, though. Especially not of these 3 and a half feet tall lizard geese and their archaic weapons. He counted at least five with some kind of stun batons, three blasters, six blades, a lot of angry civilians coming his way. He laughed mockingly at the creatures of this archaic village would even attempt to challenge him. He had had enough of this game.

 

Gunning down some civilians to his left he ducked into a building to take cover. Blaster fire ripped through the walls as wood and debris filled the air. The whole time he couldn't stop laughing to himself. "Three blasters. They only brought three blasters. Do they only have three blasters? Do they really think they can take me with three blasters?" Trying to get a better idea of where his enemies were Kyle peaked out the window.

 

"Cha-Klank!" Kyle recoiled as he discovered the newly formed nick on the top of his shoulder.

 

"My armor! Those bastards dented my armor!"

 

Kyle whipped out in front of the window unleashing a volley of blaster fire at the security forces, before ducking back down. More phuii screamed as they hit the cold, hard dirt. Kyle rolled moving right next to the doorway as the remaining two gunmen fired in the direction of the window. Listening and waiting a few seconds Kyle swung his shotgun into the doorway opening and blindly spayed the crowd.

 

Panic now crossed over into hysteria as the remaining brave civilians turned to flee. As the crowd disburse and collided, the officers tried to keep order and continue their attack, but the surrounding civilians made it almost impossible.

 

Kyle now knew this was his chance. Diving out into the open, he blasted down the remaining gunmen. The melee armed police charged. Decimating the phuii to his left, he grabbed the tail of his shotgun. He then twirled it to the right in quick succession knocking the remain enemies back. Tossing away his shotgun, Kyle slammed one of the stunned marshals in the gut before round-kicking him, slamming his face into the dark brown soil. He grabbed the officer's sword.

 

Kyle bounced back to give himself better position, as the patrolmen regained their composure. Most of the creatures had cleared about by now, leaving just him and a bunch of angry phuii. As he looked on, a few of the officers rose to their feet and bolted for safety screaming the only word Kyle actually knew in phuii, "Monster." That left only nine of them all together if he counted the marshal that was still lying on the ground. He waved his sword left and right to keep the phuiis' attempt at advancement to a minimal. This way just too much fun.

 

Then, out of the corner of his eye he saw the marshal crawling towards his shotgun. His eyes widened. He quickly advanced, parrying with the sword wielding officers. He quickly hacked down the first two with one swift cutting motion, before attempting to duel the remaining two phuii. The marshal was almost to his shotgun now, but what was even worse was that he now realized that the fleeing officers had made a move on the formerly alive gunmen and their blasters. He tapped his side for his repeater blaster. It was the one ranged weapon he had re-sheathed to his thigh after leaving the cantina only moments earlier. Dueling with his right and drawing it with his left, he fired on the first two soldiers with success, only seconds before they were able to obtain their comrades' blasters.

 

"TeeZZzzah!" The stun baton stung hand causing him to drop his blaster and recoil in pain. Although, they couldn't see the veins in his neck and face bulge in rage from their maneuver they soon felt his emotions through the edge of his cold, jagged blade. Kyle went berserk as his rage consumed him and he "blacked out". Flailing wildly he disregarded the pain of the swords men's blows as he decapitated the final two. This time ready for the shock inflicted by the nasty stun sticks. The pain was almost too great, but he somehow managed to overcome it, striking the final four stun baton wielders down one after another. Falling to his knees, Kyle crawled over to his repeater and looked up. A shaking officer was glaring at him from about two houses down. The one he hadn't been able to shoot. Quickly he grabbed his weapon and trying to raise it.

 

"Bam!" His chest plate echoed as he was knocked backwards to the ground. A hole in his armor and a black, round blaster mark now replaced where his armor used to be. The officer moved forward to get a closer look while the other marshal, laid exhausted against Kyle's shotgun.

 

"Is he dead? Did you kill the monster?" the battered phuii ask in his native tongue.

 

Now over Kyle's body, the phuii officer replied as he aimed his gun at Kyle's helmet , "I don't know. But I'm going to make sure."

 

But he was too late. The whole time Kyle was watching him through his one-way visor. The second he raised had his sights on Kyle's head, Kyle jerked his head and smacked the phuii's hand in one swift motion, sending a stray blaster shot into a nearby wall. The phuii was caught unaware and was Kyle almost instantly had one arm around the arm holding the blaster and the other around the creature's neck. Easily overpowering the small creature, he turned its hand towards its head and mashed the trigger. One down, one to go.

 

Throwing the phuii body out of his way, Kyle rolled over and got to his knees. He glanced over at the last phuii marshal. His face was badly swollen and his body lied defeated against Kyle's shotgun. The small, weak, and beaten creature attempted to lift the large shotgun with its feeble arms without success.

 

Kyle could see the fear in his eyes as he slowly rose to his feet and headed towards the marshal. Shaking his head Kyle yanked away his shotgun and walked over to retrieve his cloak. After finding it he handed the officer a thermal detonator. Then, without another word he headed to his ship. He only turned around once more to watch the smoke, fire, and ash that filled the air from an explosion behind him the the distance.

 

Tired, exhausted, and in a lot of pain he strapped himself in and activated his weapon systems. Sending one last message, Kyle used Death III like a bomber laying waste to the already devastated town. Then, he rocketed off as abruptly as he came.

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First post goes to Jedi leadership please... A well written post, but it helps if you read what comes before. I'll let it stand under the conditionals 1) It has no future impact regarding anything else that goes on in this thread 2) Kail makes no return to the planet.

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The monarch of madness has returned!

 

[Associate of the Illinois Mafia since March 2002.]

[2nd in Command of the Lords of Hate since March 2002.]

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((OOC: LOL! So that's what that means. Sorry. I just figured I could post here since no one has done so since this post's conception way back in May. It would be awesome if you could still keep my post ( or at least tell me before you delete it so I can back it up on wordpad or something). As for me not returning, that works unless some real RP reason comes up like the jedi summon me or stuff like that. Hehehe... my work here is done anyway. Have at it Jedi leadership!))

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If the galaxy was not shuddering under the titanic rumble of yet another war between the forces of the Jedi and Sith, one might have found the shipment of a small army of utility and cleaning droids to the tiny planet of Phu to be slightly curious. That is, if anyone had any reason to find the scarcely inhabited backwater to be of any interest.

 

If anyone on the idyllic backwater planet had looked up in the night to see the glow of a transport's sublight engines, they might have been mildly surprised to discover that its cargo included a small team of construction droids, autonomous drillers, and a fairly massive stash of powerful steel alloys. They might have been suspicious of a fairly major construction project in a mountain range that stood like defiant tan giants against the vivid vegetation of a tropical forest along the equator. An almost New Zealandic array of terrain was visible on a clear day, providing a great variety of environments for a visitor to enjoy, all within several days' march or a few hours in the safety of a landspeeder.

 

Within weeks, the new home of the Jedi was constructed.

 

_____________________________

 

((Precise details of the construction follow.))

 

Built inside the cavern complex of a metal-rich mountain range, the Jedi Temple was all but invisible to a sensor sweep. Its defenses, hidden deep inside the caverns, were likewise invisible until they were deployed to wreak havoc on an unsuspecting invader... but it wasn't as though anyone had reason to suspect that the Jedi would retreat to this planet.

 

In the unlikely event that the hangars of the hidden base were discovered by hostile forces, they would be enormously disappointed to find that they were not directly attached to the Temple proper. Only by travelling through a magnetic rail that passed through the hollowed caverns of the mountains could a Jedi reach the Temple. Such an entrance made the actual Temple ludicrously easy to defend, as it was protected from above by the sheer weight of the mountain range that perched upon its ceilings and the anti-aerospace emplacements, and against ground invasion by the choke points created by the peculiar entrance.

 

And in the terrain surrounding the Temple, an observant eye would notice the occasional flurry of disturbed avians, a sure sign that other surprises awaited...

 

((Defenses are as follows))

 

Twenty "pop-out" ground-based turbolaser batteries.

Thirty "pop-out" anti-air quad laser batteries.

Two "pop-out" ground-based ion cannons.

A nasty surprise for deployed vehicles and infantry.

 

((In case anyone is confused: a brief summary.

 

The Temple is built below a metal-rich mountain range, making it impervious to sensor sweeps. The anti-air defenses are also concealed in a similar manner. There are several hangars, all connected to the Temple proper by magnetic rail transports, making it very easy to evacuate or defend against a ground assault.

 

Details of the security system are known only by me and a few select RPers. It suffices to say that it would be impossible to hack through conventional means, and that all forms of sabotage are covered--explosives, poisons, tracking bugs, etc.

 

The existance of this base is not public knowledge among the Jedi. The location or even existance of this base is not in the Archives. Only a select few know of it.))

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  • 1 month later...

In preparation for what Armiena Draygo feared would be a new outbreak of devastating battle, a number of weapons began construction in the automized forges below the Jedi Temple. A few days later, a number of transports that were shaped somewhat like reversed pyramids departed Phu for parts unknown.

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  • 4 months later...

In the lowest levels of the Jedi Temple on Phu, where few beings other than droids had a legimitate reason to wander, the main computer of the Temple received a warning that it would soon have to watch over Jedi visitors. Reaching its decision in a fraction of a millisecond, the computer began to release a number of Armiena Draygo's creations, those tiny, but effective touches that she had developed to ensure the internal security of this fortress. The forges within the mountain range began to produce a number of new designs, some of which would haunt the Jedi's nightmares when they were released from Armiena's arsenal... some of which would quickly be available in the hangars.

 

All over the Jedi Temple, long-deactivated lamps shone for the first time in preparation for the arrival of the Jedi. Blast doors, their joints nearly caked together by dust, reluctantly slid open in the hangars. A beacon outside the primary hangar began to call to the empty space surrounding the planet, whispering directions to the Jedi ships that would soon arrive.

 

The Wolf Spiders, Armiena's most brutal, aggressive, and probably controversial creations, were warned to cease their "training maneuvers" in the primary hangar. As the hangar would likely soon fill up with the personal ships of the Jedi, those massive arachnids couldn't indulge their bellicose tendancies by challenging each other to titanic wrestling matches and bellowing war cries at their mechanical brothers.

 

"Orders received... Brother." Vod growled at the commanding impulses that struck its electronic brain. The battle droid sounded somewhat reluctant to obey... and it was, considering that a thrilling contest was ensuing between the Wolf Spiders Inquisitor and Nutjob. The latter howled a dismayed protest against those orders... but it complied, understanding that the Jedi were unlikely to appreciate their physical contests.

 

Meanwhile, a number of transports bearing a triad of Wolf Spiders touched down in the hangar. Although they had not fought directly in the battle at Haruun Kal, they were able to record many of the Imperial and Black Dawn units and eagerly shared their sensor data packages with their comrades. Those deployed droids were immediately instructed to report to the forges to receive modifications that would greatly improve their agility in battle--and for these droids, agility was offense.

 

 

 

((Ok, let me make this clear. This Temple is definitely a fortress-type base, but I'm working on a base that's a bit more... newbie-friendly. One of the hangars is readily available to the Jedi at all times, though you have to access the actual Temple by going through a tram system into the mountain range. Phu, on the other hand, is a pretty friendly planet, with diverse environments, and folks are more than welcome to explore the planet to their liking.

 

Inside, the facilities are pretty standard: training rooms, dorms, cafeterias, etc.... and a fairly huge forge somewhere under the Temple. If you need a special weapon built, just PM me and I can PROBABLY build it. Don't ask for cortosis or Phrik construction, though.))

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  • 1 month later...

Clothed in nothing but her birthday suit, Armiena shook her hair loose as the level of the faux-amniotic fluid in her cloning vat descended. She'd never seen this part of the cloning process--she'd always regained consciousness in the medical wards in the Jedi Temples--and she now wished that her body would have been content to come to at least a few minutes later. It certainly appeared that it hadn't been intended that she didn't experience this part of the cloning process, judging from the almost startled glance of an attending 2-1B medical droid.

 

"Master Draygo. Please enter a hibernation trance; you will not find the last portion of the cloning process pleasant in the least." For a moment, Armiena was confused--she was clearly a whole, lucidly thinking sentient, what else would they have to do?

 

Oh. Catching a glimpse of her reflection on a smooth surface, Armiena realized that she had gained consciousness just minutes before the medical droids "fine-tuned" her appearance, transforming her body from an adult newborn into the flawed, perfected body of Armiena Draygo. In order to complete that process, the droids would have to age her flesh by applying old scars, birthmarks, and other minor defects, increase her muscle tone, and finish small touches that she had simply taken for granted.

 

"Of course."

 

Armiena certainly had no desire to be conscious for that. It took her only a pair of heartbeats to enter a trance so deep that the medical droids grew concerned over her vital signs--

 

--And only a second later, it seemed, Armiena woke up tucked in the sheets of a medical cot, with a white Jedi robe waiting for her use at her feet.

 

It took only a few minutes for Armiena to dress and replace the items she lost at Coruscant--at least, the easier items. Her blaster and vibroknives were simple to be replaced, common items in any armory, but her lightsabers would likely be a loss... at least until her body was recovered from the multiple stories of debris that she was trapped under when she perished. And her gauntlet... before she died, she knew that Barton had sliced off her hand and made off with that piece of armor. He wouldn't get anything out of it--in all likelihood, Lachelle Draygo's spirit had gone dormant when she realized that her capture was imminent--but Armiena couldn't even begin to guess how she would recover it.

 

And Aryian--finally, Armiena understood the greatest flaw in the fortress she had designed. Although impenetrable and nearly self-sufficient, it was cold, technological, and empty. The only inhabitants of the Temple were droids and the odd technician that hurriedly rushed about the corridors to attend to a bit of machinery that even droids couldn't be trusted with. Now that she was all alone, she wished for her fiance's presence more than ever.

 

And all she could do was wait for him to complete his own cloning process--if he was even being resurrected at Phu.

 

"Master Draygo..." A bass-heavy, mechanical voice boomed, bouncing off the steely walls of the base's primary hangar. Apparently, Armiena had been brooding so deeply that she failed to register the journey on the tram system that connected the hangar and the Temple proper. Another example of how isolated the Temple was: she'd even separated the hangar from the Temple, choosing instead to link them over a fortified tram system that carried its passengers through a network of natural caves.

 

"Hi, Vod." Armiena immediately responded, wearily. Even though the Wolf Spiders all lacked individual identification, she could recognize any of them instantly. Vod sank with surprising grace for such a large machine on its eight durasteel-Phrik armored legs, bowing its command module in approximation of a human bow. Armiena patted the mechanical beast on its foremost right leg as she passed under its belly, heading for one of the new Jedi starfighters that she had recently ordered for production.

 

The Starsword Jedi starfighter was named Bleeding Star, a somewhat gruesome name to match its garish paint job. The starfighter was painted almost entirely black, with white trim marking the edges of the vessel. The nose of the fighter was splattered almost randomly with streaks of crimson, as though the entire ship was a speartip driven into a still-fighting foe.

 

Still, it's appearance wasn't half as alarming as the wanton destruction that the craft could unleash if the craft was half as powerful as Amon Saulot's calculations indicated. Despite her eagerness to finally test-fly the vicious little craft, Armiena proceeded through her pre-flight inspections with disinterest.

 

She wished that Aryian was there. The company of any Jedi would have been welcome, but she wished for Aryian's presence in particular. He would have loved tearing into a new ship and then struggling to put it back together--Armiena suddenly devoted more attention to the fighter's port fusion cannon--and the moment they would have had alone would have been most welcome. After all, they had an entire wedding to plan.

 

Armiena sighed as she climbed into the craft's cockpit, familiarizing herself with the layout of the ship's controls. It was all familiar enough--the craft was based off of the X-Wing chassis, after all--although it had a number of features that no mere X-Wing could even support. To compensate, Armiena knew that it boasted an enhanced life-support suite, including an emergency system designed to deliver additional oxygen directly to the pilot's vitals. It was definitely a dogfighter, better suited to ripping up enemy craft in space than it was for ferrying a one-man army to its destination.

 

Force, I wish Aryian was here. Armiena requested a hyperspace calculation that would deliver her to Coruscant, and received a response from the Temple's main computer almost before she completed her request. Her glum expression steadfast on her face, Armiena kicked in the little starfighter's sublights and was gone within minutes.

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  • 1 month later...

After bouncing around the galaxy like an oddly shaped pinball, Armiena's Ghost Breath finally appeared above the lush, green ball that was Phu.

 

Armiena couldn't help but love the planet. It was almost completely unsettled by the denizens of the "civilized" galaxy; it was unspoiled and bursting with life and vegetation of an incredible number of environments; it was secure, far away from the conflicts that commonly swept the galaxy; beneath its surface, its caverns had grown a number of truly awe-inspiring crystal deposits--not suitable for lightsaber construction, but impressive nonetheless; it played host to one of the most formidable bases in Jedi history....

 

And several hundred of Armiena's most loyal friends lived here. Friends who wouldn't hesitate to lay down their lives for their creator. Friends who were armed with all manner of nasty explosives, high-powered blaster cannons, vibrosaws and cutting lasers, and multi-ton Phrik/durasteel armored limbs.

 

But, unfortunately, Armiena had an incapacitated lover to take care of, so her love for the planet took a back seat as she landed the Ghost Breath in the Jedi Temple's primary hangar. As powerful as the hangar was, armed with a pair of Armiena's original Wolf Spiders and a number of Jedi vessels, including the fearsome Starsword fighters that had recently been constructed, this was only the second layer of defense. The hangar wasn't even part of the Temple.

 

One had to venture through a rather expansive cavern complex to reach the Temple proper, and the most expedient way to do that--and probably only way--was to seek access on a rail system that diligently carted its passengers from the hangar to the actual Temple. It was an obvious chokepoint, but if a hostile army ever wanted to invade...

 

Well, they would have to be suicidal to pick a fight with a base like this. There were defense mechanisms that only Armiena knew about, and the enemy would only learn about them until their ships were already on fire and they were begging to be home again.

 

Somberly, Armiena carried her fiance away from her ship and laid him on a repulsorlift stretcher that had been requested of the Temple's minimal staff. The droids would be able to repair Aryian's ship, leaving it in such pristine condition that he might suspect that he had dreamed the entire misfortune he had gone through. Until he recovered, however, her love would have to stay on Phu, locked away under gigatons of rock on armor. It was one of the few places in the galaxy that Armiena trusted to be truly safe... and leaving him in The Graveyard would just be morbid and blasphemous on an as-of-yet unexplored level.

 

So, she took him into the base, trying to avoid staring at his comatose body as she boarded the tram. Armiena knew the cavern system to be quite spectacular, with patches of luminescent lichens adorning the walls of developing rock formations, splashing eerie azure light onto the closest few centimeters of stone. She also knew there to be a few spider-like predators in the caves--not kinraths, but she could hear the chitter of exoskeleton even over the hum of the tram system. There were even a few impressive crystal formations somewhere below her boots, deep within the mountains. Even though they lacked the proper lattice structure and clarity to be used in lightsabers, a few probes that had been sent into the caves had sent back a number of inspiring holos.

 

In the darkness, there was untold wonder and ancient beauty. And Armiena would have given her left arm if she could just see Aryian on his feet again, profoundly upset over the state of his ship.

 

"Get well soon." Armiena couldn't help but grin as she eventually pushed the stretcher into the Temple's medical bay. "You know that it's going to become a joke, that you slipped into a coma just because your ship took a nasty hit." With an almost hopeful kiss on his cheek--after all, it had worked on Coruscant--Armiena slipped away from him, leaving him a small note to let him know where he was.

 

Finally, Armiena strode through the corridors of the underground Temple, eventually arriving at the Council Chambers. The Jedi had become bogged down and inactive, but their mission remained constant. She had work to do...

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Without warning, Armiena's datapad began trumpeting Reveille. The Jedi Grandmaster paled before she even glanced at its output--she knew what was happening.

 

Then we are out of time. And so are they.

 

Armiena began tapping a few commands into her datapad, issuing orders to the Temple to retrieve her Starsword starfighter, and to issue a general call to arms to the entire Jedi Order, and to repulse the Imperial attack at Csilla. She took a minute to arm herself, retrieving a small cache of grenades and other goodies. She wasn't able to fit in her sword in her fighter's tiny cockpit, but even the Starsword boasted a modest cargo hold. The armor, sadly... there would be no space for that in a starfighter. Naturally, the Verpine rifle she owned would be completely impractical, so she left that on Ghost Breath.

 

Before Armiena prepared the Bleeding Star, her personal starfighter, she considered bringing along several more of the Wolf Spiders, but she thought better of it. If the Imperials were determined to snuff out the Chiss species, then they would resort to an orbital bombardment. Routing their fleet was the objective, not wiping out their ground forces.

 

"Steel-toed boots... check. Datapad and stylus... check. Now, where in the hell is my gum?" That question would have to be answered later, as Armiena punched the ship's throttle forward and was gone within minutes. She could only hope that the rest of the Jedi were coming.

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  • 2 months later...

((My posting will be probably weekly. Please don't expect much from me.))

 

Aryian woke.

 

For the longest of times the Jedi master had slumbered, against his will. Many things had passed while he slept, and as the Force once again filled his being he felt many turbulent things. It took him a few minutes to regain his senses, who he was and where he was, but it was only a matter of time before he learned these things. He was still sluggish, time seeming to be nonexistant as he stumbled from room to room in a delirious haze, his surroundings blurring unfamiliarly around him.

 

He knew his mere existance was sheer will of the Force, and now he was awake to fulfill once again it's bidding, something the man had never fully understood, even though he had tried. The world finally started to attain a sense of stability, the walls and doors seemed to blur together less and less the more he walked, to where he was uncertain. After what could have been an eternity or something merely in the space of a few seconds, he found what he recognized to be the hangar of the place, finding his belongings in ruins. His ship, his masterpiece, something that had claimed to be his offspring, lie in ruin in the hangar. It had been dead for some time, Aryian knew, and he hoped it wasn't too slagged to be spaceworthy again.

 

It was only then that Aryian had the sense to look down, making sure he was fully clothed, and his lightsabers still hung from his belt. There were other lightsabers back in the room he had originated from, lightsabers he had crafted himself and customized for specific reasons, but these lightsabers he didn't need. Three hilts, his original two, and his electrum, were more than enough to signify who he was and what he had gone through to attain his status. There were a few other ships in the hangar, E-wings, and he chose the nearest one, hopping into the cockpit, remembering again the feel of the Force as he used it to catapult himself across the expanse. The ship started up, bypassing the prep sequence as Aryian manipulated the controls expertly (though it nearly felt foreign to him), whipping the small fighter out of the hangar and into space.

 

Another thirty minutes later, and he was little more than a wink of light in the night sky as his hyperdrive kicked in, slingshotting him towards the heavens. He closed his eyes as he set the navicomputer, allowing the Force to guide his hands and select his destination.

Immediately reachable by  charlesjhall@gmail.com

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  • 3 weeks later...

A communication reached the Jedi Temple on Phu””specifically, the Wolf Spider droids that were resting in the hangar, running through practice simulations of harrowing battles in their computer cores.

 

At once, all those glorious struggles ceased and each of the dozens of droids joined a lengthy discussion on their choice of action.

 

It lasted approximately a second.

 

To battle, my brothers! Let us crush these traitors who hold our Maker in captivity! They shall soon feel the wrath of our armoured feet, and our righteous fire, and our cannon, and our”¦ Inquisitor all but screamed over the airwaves.

 

Battle-brother, we should first go to Trulalis, where a number of our brethren in the Jedi Order are scheming to release the Maker. Their cooperation would make the success of our rescue much more likely and””

 

Yes! To Trulalis! Then to crushing these unholy beasts! They shall release Her, or they shall die this day!

 

Within minutes, a half dozen of the armored annihilators charged into their respective insertion craft and made haste for where the Jedi plot was evidently in progress”¦

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In a darkened closed off part of the hangar, a single small light shines into the darkness, piercing it, driving it back with it's small but steady luminescence. Softly, pieces of hardware begin to whirr, booting up and attempting to recieve and decipher the message that was sent to them.

 

....C....C....CO....

 

This process continues on for nearly ten minutes before the entire mesage is understood, after which the functional hardware takes on an entirely new task, that of repairing itself to full functionality. Another twenty minutes pass by before the entire order is sent, but by that time, the hangar droids assigned to the section had noticed the ship regaining procesive functionality and had already begun the process of repair. More droids hummed to life, and for a time, the darkness within the closed off hangar twitched and writhed as sparks flew and new equipment was welded into place, the ship regaining more and more of it's functionality.

 

In little time, the Blur was once again spaceworthy, it's main engines and computers fully repaired, along with several sets of outdated equipment replaced with new upgrades to improve processing speed.

 

The hangar doors open and the ship shot out with a furious roar of the thrusters, angled deep for space. The Master had called, and it was high time the Blur heeded it's call.

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  • 2 months later...
  • 3 months later...

A Small Jedi spacecraft landed at the station after the pilot was identified. Another larger ship pulled out of hyperspace behind it, as per instructions from its current master.

 

The human looked tiny against the enormous Wolf Spider as they looked at each other in the massive hangar. For a while, Aryian didn't speak, merely musing as the sensors kept focused on him, recording his every move.

 

"You know why you're here."

 

"No. But I trust you will soon make that clear to me and my bretheren."

 

"Saladin...You and I haven't known each other long, but we've both known Armiena a long time. There's something I need to do, something I need you for. And I want to know that you're ready to die to do that."

 

"We were not programmed to fear, Master. Death is temporary for us. I will not fail willingly in any task."

 

"Good...good."

 

A long silence followed as Aryians tood there, still thinking.

 

"A query, Master."

 

"Go ahead."

 

"Why would you ask such a thing? What intentions do you have?"

 

"You'll see when the time is right. Sufficing to say...we'll be saving Armiena. And possibly a good portion of the galaxy. You understand how important this is?"

 

"I do, Master. I will not fail."

 

"Good. Then...this may feel a bit strange to you. Prepare yourself."

 

The sensors hummed and buzzed as the giant thing took a step back as Aryian moved forwards to it, causing the jedi to smirk slightly. The Elephant afraid of the mouse... He placed his hands upon the leg he had approached, opening himself fully to the Force, beginning the technique that would be the saving grace of the galaxy and the end of him. If such a sacrifice should be made...then he would make it. There would be no looking back. Some would have called him weak, blinded by love...but he only would have smiled at them and slowly shook his head, for they did not know love themselves.

 

The Force exploded outwards from his body, coursing through the large mechnoid in waves, manipulative energy reforming the steels and outer armor alloys. The Cargo bays of the ship Aryian had piloted here opened, and hundreds, if not thousands of small Ilum crystals ripped forwards, embedding themselves in the hot metal and supercharging it with arcane Force energies. Runes, similar to those on Aryian's battered armor, began etching themselves into the enormous armor plates as the Force aura flared ever hotter, Aryian's hands absorbing all the heat the metal put out and using it to only fuel his technique more.

 

After a long time it was done. Aryian weakly stood back up, arms sagging to his side, eyes drooping as if eternally tired. He took the butt of his lightsaber hilt, slamming it against the metal, smirking as it stopped as if it had hit something hard, inches above the metal. The Permanent Force barrier would hold off a significant amount of firepower, but doubtless it would last forever. Eventually the forces would reach an overload point, and the crystals would shatter. But for now...it was one hell of a layer of armor, made from pure Force energy, charged by Aryian's own essence.

 

Solemnly, he climbed into the cockpit of the large spider, piloting it up and out of the hanger into the deployment vessel that still hung in orbit. The time had come...from here on out it was either a fateful destiny, or failure. There was no looking back now.

 

Ever silent, the Jedi master slowly pulled the hyperspace lever back in the cockpit, and seconds later was gone.

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  • 2 weeks later...

It was very fortunate, that Armiena Darkfire had established a strict set of security guidelines for the automated transports that now regularly departed from Phu, otherwise their flights would have surely been tracked and the secrecy of this invaluable fortress and factory would have been compromised. After receiving a set of orders and designs from the Jedi Grandmaster, the forges beneath the Jedi Temple began to produce a large quantity of small arms weapons and personal armor.

 

Facing a completely different challenge, it was her belief that the Rebellion and Jedi Order were going to have to change accordingly. These implements of war would ensure that the Rebellion would have the tools to make these changes.

 

A number of sensor probes were also launched by the Jedi Temple, some of which began to orbit the system.

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  • 1 month later...

Aryian's ship lands, and he disembarks, several cricks in his back and neck. But at least...at least he was here.

 

He begins the work, queueing the service droids to prep a few rooms for staying visitors. Thankfully due to Armiena's building of a literal factory here, droid help was a welcomed benefit. His first order of business would be rather simple. His second order of business might take a while, but he would complete it.

 

In time...all in time. For now, he simply smiled and walked into the facility, exploring what he hadn't already seen yet. He boarded the rail transport nearby, taking him well into the heart of the mountain.

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A message arrived for Aryian.

 

Aryian, love, we're en route to Phu even as I write this. I decided to take on an apprentice. I'd rather start his training in a relatively untouched environment, so we won't be landing at the temple for a while--there's a lovely deciduous forest a few minutes' flight from the temple, and we'll be setting down there. The Wolf Spiders will know what I'm referring to.

 

When do you suppose we should let him know?

 

_________________________

 

And only a short time later, the featureless space outside the Ghost Breath's cockpit burst into starlines, which cleared into a view of untouched space and a blue-green orb in the distance. "Phu." I explained to my Padawan. "I've never had the chance to spend much time on the surface, but it's a very quiet place. There's the Jedi temple in the mountains, of course, but the population of droids we keep in there probably outnumbers the entire population of the planet."

 

I left the boring part of the flight to the Ghost Breath's AI, returning my attention to Derrial while the planet began to dominate the view from the cockpit. "I'd imagine that, having spent most of your life with the Jedi, you've learned at least a few basic things. Philosophy, if nothing else. Is there anything that we can skip before we move onto the more practical stuff?"

 

While we spoke, the view of Phu expanded until distinct climates of the planet could be seen, such as the mountains in which the temple was located, the tropical forest that crowded around their base, which gradually gave way to less wooded terrain. It could be seen that the nose of the Ghost Breath seemed to be oriented directly towards another major forest that adorned this grassy region

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Aryian was perusing the the factories when a droid approached him, carrying a message from Armiena. He read it, grinned, and sent his own six word message back.

 

I'll leave that up to you.

 

Before long, Aryian found himself a very large room, one perfect for the kind of intentions he had in mind. This room would serve as his laboratory, this room would be the key to the future. He brought another droid over and began creating plans for the room, inputting them to be scheduled for a future addition to the factory.

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(OOC: My original post was interrupted by a rather bizarre incident, and rendered unpostable. In future, that should not be an issue.)

 

Malcolm watched the exterior lighshow with great interest; he'd seen hyperspace portrayed before, but had been too young to remember it from his trip to Gala. As a result, it was wholly novel to him, and he giggled with childish delight.

 

Malcolm turned from the window as his master addressed him, thinking back over his training before responding.

 

"Well... As you say, mostly philosophy. General education, of course: I know my calculus and astromaps. I got pretty handy with a training saber, but only against other classmates. We only learned Shii-Cho, so there's a lot I know in theory that I can't even begin to put into practice. It was the same with the force, we mostly learned sensing, with a few meditative alterations and only theory on control..."

 

Malcolm paused. Reciting the Gala temple curriculum to the Grandmaster seemed unnecessary, but he imagined that she was probably testing him in some way beyond the practical question at hand.

 

"Here, watch this."

 

Malcolm squinted hard at a pencil he drew from his pocket. He reached out to it through the force and --

 

Nothing.

 

"Well, sometimes it works. I haven't gotten it down quite yet. Anyway, they were leery of teaching us too much outside of the apprenticeship, so I had to study a lot on my own... but I can't seem to make much of it work."

 

Malcolm pocketed the pencil with an embarrassed grin.

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Malcolm was clearly embarrassed by his failure, but training in Force techniques was clearly something that had not been emphasized in his education in the Jedi temples, as he had said. Strange, that manipulating the Force””albeit inconsistently, and with little fine control””came so naturally to me, but perhaps my training had begun earlier in my life than I could recall. My parents were both strong in the Force. Undoubtedly, they had secretly encouraging me to use the Force in subtle ways when I was a little girl.

 

I just shrugged. Meditation and study was one way to tap into the Force, and one heavily favored by the Jedi. Perhaps all he needed was a different approach, or dedicated and more intense instruction from a personal teacher.

 

”œThat's fine. We have all day and more to train, and there won't be any distractions on”¦ well, on your mind while we're here.”

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Armiena Darkfire receives an encrypted comm from the Sith she knows as Julz.

 

Dear Armiena,

 

Do you find that odd? That we have already found each other dear? Do you really find me dear? Or is it a mere formality? Proper etiquette in correspondence, perhaps.

 

I wonder how life goes for you. I've been watching the holonet, but there seems to be little news of the Jedi, let alone the order's unorthodox leader. Have you returned to your "wait and see" approach? I must say, I disapprove. I thought you to be one to stand up and take charge of the situation, especially with this new enemy on our mutual doorstep. Ah, but who am I to question your actions. I'm sure the Jedi are in capable hands. I'd trust them to no other.

 

As per your request, I've thought up a new topic for this letter's discussion. It's my hope that we share our knowledge on our respective paths, as a means toward our mutual enlightenment. I'll explain my idea of a True Sith, and quid pro quo you tell me you're ideal concept of a Jedi.

 

I'll begin where any Sith Acolyte starts, the code.

 

Peace is a lie, there is only passion.

Through passion, I gain strength.

Through strength, I gain power.

Through power, I gain victory.

Through victory, my chains are broken.

The force shall set me free.

 

In themselves, the words mean nothing. But behind the words lies meaning. A common fallacy about the Sith is that they only use their anger and hatred to fuel the dark side. Though this may be the case for many currently claiming the title of Sith, it is not the case for True Sith. Passion, or the indulgence of one's emotions is a Sith's real power, not any one emotion. Jealousy, happiness, sadness, fear, love, all are equally powerful in the dark side. Granted, all of these emotions can easily evolve into anger and hate, and commonly do, but a real Sith knows how to control his emotions. Like the Jedi, we are in control of our emotions, not they us.

 

The ultimate goal of any real Sith is not power. Though Sith throughout the ages have seemed to be little less than power hungry beasts, that was not the case. Power is but a means to acquire the ultimate goal. Freedom. We do not solely wish to destroy everything, regardless of what it might look like. We're just willing to do whatever necessary to achieve our goals. We want only to do what we want, when we want.

 

To you it may sound selfish. Looking at it from outside my own perspective, it does I guess. But that doesn't matter to us. No one will look out for you or what you want except for you. You're life, as a Jedi, is about sacrifice. But why sacrifice yourself for those who are unable to protect themselves? They will only grow weaker themselves. You're taking away a vital learning experience from them. You grow stronger while they remain weak. In a way, you're acting rather Sith-like if you think about it. Getting stronger at their expense. It's not that I don't care about the galaxy. I don't needlessly kill, and I don't do it for pleasure. I kill because I have to. The difference between us is that it doesn't bother me.

 

The weak deserve their fate. If those I stand against weren't meant to die by my hand, then they wouldn't. Fate, or rather faith, was something I thought Jedi believed in rather strongly. Giving yourselves over to the will of the force, right?

 

There is little else I can add at the moment. I'm getting ready for a business meeting and my associate is being rather talkative. I look forward to feeling your disgust through electronic words, but I beg you to remember to keep an open mind.

 

Until we speak again,

 

-J

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Malcolm followed his master for a time in silence. The promise of new lightsaber forms was alluring, but nothing compared to forest around them.

 

"It's so... different than Gala. No pines, and no birds."

 

He glanced up from the path at the trees, marveling at the way they all stretched so dizzyingly into the upper air. A lone raptor flitted overhead on hushed wings, startling some smaller roosted birds.

 

"I stand corrected."

 

Malcolm returned his gaze to the trail, increasing his stride to come alongside his master. Their increasingly frenetic pace was a welcome improvement from the day spent sedentary in cramped shuttle cabins. Still, he was surprised; this trip was less of the "contemplative stroll" he'd expect from the Grand Master and more like a game of "Flee the Rancor" with his classmates on Gala. Perhaps she was just trying to make him feel at home. Perhaps it was a simple endurance test.

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By now, I was running simply for the joy of the physical exercise. It had been far too long since I'd had time to devote to physical training, much less training that wasn't directly related to combat. It was only me, my Padawan, and the wild outdoors, with frightened birds fleeing into the skies as we passed uncomfortably close to their perches””or, at least, it had been, because I felt my datapad vibrate against my side in my robe, which I silenced at once.

 

Much better.

 

I could feel how long it had been since I'd enjoyed strenuous exercise, as my breath began to grow short and my legs began to burn slightly. I just grinned and pushed past this pain””the good pain, my body quietly wondering if now would have been a good time to take a break, or if I should start drawing upon the Force to rejuvenate fatigued muscles.

 

And so the run went on, and I deliberately set a difficult trail, occasionally skidding across drying patches of mud, nearly snagging my hair against low branches, almost tripping over exposed roots. On one memorable occasion, our run disturbed a nest of small, but undoubtedly vicious flying insects, which I had already began to retreat from by the time they began swarming from their hive but found a legitimate target in my Padawan. I had absolutely nothing to do with igniting their ire save for setting a path close to their home, though their wrath served to drive us into a draining sprint for a few seconds.

 

The goal of this routine, Malcolm might have guessed, was to wear him out. After the failure of the temple's instructors to teach him to reliably manipulate the Force, it came to mind that another approach might be more effective. I'd read about the Matukai, a Force-based sect that focused on reaching the Force through physical exertion, and how powerful that approach was for them. Perhaps driving my Padawan's body into a state of exhaustion would help him connect with the Force.

 

Tapping into the Force, I slightly increased the pace of my run. My leg muscles protested at the abuse, but I could hold out for at least a while longer without using the Force to recover. I just hoped, for the sake of my pride, that my student's youth wouldn't motivate him much longer.

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Malcolm remained alongside his master as she broke into a full run.

 

Finally!

 

It was now that he was most comfortable; sprinting through the forests on Gala was his only escape from the monotony of the temple. He laughed as he felt the familiar pressures in his chest and calves. It was fun, even with the flailing charge through the cloud of biting flies.

 

Malcolm strained his eyes and picked out a particularly huge tree down the trail. After a moment's debate, he pointed to it and asked,

 

"Race ya'?"

 

He put on some speed and giggled, ignoring for now the slight but building burn in his legs.

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Malcolm watched his master streak down the path and directly up the trunk of the targeted tree.

 

"... Huh."

 

After a few minutes of hard sprinting, he reached a major root, which he ran up as far as he could, kicked off, and awkwardly clutched the underside of the branch on which his master was perched. With some straining and grunting, he righted himself upon it.

 

"I take it... that was... the force?"

 

Malcolm suppressed his wheezing with a grim smile.

 

Focus. You can't afford to lose it under strain.

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The first thing, and most important thing in the entire room, was the forge. It was in the corner of the room, tied in with the rest of the factory's system, pumping molten metal into a sort of bowl to drain out slowly, the residual heat more than enough to be used for the things he intended to use it for. The next thing, which went as far away from the heat as possible, was the medical equipment he had the droids pilfer from the medical facility of the place, specifically a bioscan machine, a bioanalysis computer for running all sorts of chemical tests, and a contamination quarantine shield.

 

These first two important things out of the way, more things were brought in, spare parts, scraps, all sorts of mechanical odds and ends, mostly useful in lightsaber construction. And finally, a semi-secluded bedroom area, for late nights. The room, in all its functioning glory, was still a sort of mess, but it was his mess, and he knew where everything was. And this pleased him a great deal. Done for now, he returned back to the upper levels of the facility, roaming more towards the meditative chambers and meeting rooms, simply looking at the architecture while waiting for the two to arrive.

 

After a while he sent his wife another text-based message to her comlink, simply asking when she planned on showing up, but it was easy to see through it that he was simply lonely.

 

And so he walked on, simply...observing.

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Malcolm had indeed heard of bodily acceleration through the force. Metabolic control could stave off obesity for a scholar and starvation for a soldier. Healing, speed, mental acuity; it was all accessible through the force, and it was the first thing he wanted to understand. But first, meditation.

 

"Yes, master."

 

There was little to do in the forests of Gala but run and meditate. This, for Malcolm, was a pleasant combination. He began to stare at a scuff mark on the tree; the result of his undignified ascent. The edges of his senses were ragged, their feral panting led to blind survivalism and the dark side therein. Calm in the face of such a storm was the ultimate necessity.

 

He fixed upon the scuff, where the bark had been scraped aside. He willed it to heal, gazing at the sap as it slowly scabbed over the wound, and the process began.

 

His breathing evened out, and he began to slip into the force. It was the only Force phenomenon that came naturally to him. The tree exhaled, and he drew breath, the sun drifted slowly overhead and the leaves followed, eager for its light.

 

Can you feel it?

 

The words assailed his mind like a handful of pebbles on a placid lake.

 

When the ripples had stilled, he did indeed feel it. Not just his tree, but dozens in all directions, crawling with insects and parasites, full of birds tending eggs, fugi growing in sodden hollows, and his master with her egg beside him.

 

"What?"

 

His own speech startled him out of his meditation.

 

Bizarre.

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