Space

[Ary the Grey]

As the Shadow Station zipped through space, the Organic occupants were relaxing in the command center, simply conversing and exchanging stories about memories. However, things were vastly different for the electronic components the station was used to. In the Armor lab, especially. Two unique items were being produced. The twelve multitooled robotic arms the lab had to work on things precisely moved with a machine preciseness and haste, working on one of the most advanced pieces of technology the galaxy had ever seen, all thanks to the Blur's exposure to the server ship. Not even Aryian knew that his ship had silently been maintaining updates from the server, 'talking' with it and exchanging ideas, evolving on it's own, developing new 'ideas' and 'thoughts' and 'concepts'. It knew, roughly, matters and things it technically shouldn't. Life, death, morals, it even had primitively begun to feel emotions. But as it was, it knew it wouldn't be able to fully experience life for itself.

 

The first object was something far more simpler than the other, it was a large armored suit, roughly fifteen feet tall, a rough cockpit located in the chest, which opened up for the user to stand in. The thing had a direct uplink to a specific wavelength which interacted with the implants, causing the pilot to use the armor as one would normally use their body, reaction time of course coming into play. With the neural net optimized, the pilot could reach reaction speeds at 100%, but that was only if the entire brain was temporarily completely integrated with the suit's systems. External sensors would work as extra eyes and other senses, while the pilot would also be able to see through a portion of the chest, which was triple layered with two sheets of thick plasteel and a energy shield in between them. The weapons brought up from Ilum were also attached to it, the wrists had dual laser canon emplacements above two lightsabers each welded right into the durasteel, wired back towards the main control unit for activation. On the shoulders, retractable mini missile launchers, and on the ankles and back jumpjet/repulsor units for free motion in space. The exhaust vents were grilled with a special alloy to prevent explosives from being hurled up inside it. On the upper arms, two shield emitters, dual layering to better protect the thing. Inside the durasteel were several Ilum crystals, waiting to pick up on the Force energy of the first force sensitive person to use it. These would specifically trace in on that pattern, bonding to that person and not only amplifying their aura, but also allowing increased control of the suit through the Force. It had layers of armor above that, the very special resources found on Ilum and those kept on the Shadow station. The first layer was that of a special durasteel alloy, tougher than the normal kind and able to take far more punishment than the normal kind as well as protecting from EMP blasts, the layer above that would be of pure cortosis. The inside was heatproof and shockproof, meant to totally protect the pilot in any situation.

 

After the construction would have gotten that far, it would halt. The station had enough phrik to fully encase the suit, but only just. It needed a final confirmation code, which the Blur set to work hacking in order to use it.

 

The next item that was made was not armored at all. At least not much...the inner layering had a thin durasteel layer along with a cortosis one, but these were fairly thin, so as not to hamper motion. Besides, the synthflesh on the outside of the thing needed to look natural. It was a replica droid the station was building, however this droid would be vastly different, instead of a normal CPU and main drive, the Blur had managed to develop a kind of neural net. It was this alone that took the most work to create, and nanotechnology was a must to build most of the incredibly tiny pathways made of superconductive material. It took several hours to make, yet once it was finished, the Blur made a direct copy of it's conscious AI into it, awaiting the construction of the rest of the droid so it could activate. It's face looked strangely familiar...an extrapolated version of a man aged approximately twenty years based on the combined DNA patterns of one Aryian Darkfire and one Armiena Draygo.

 

 

EDIT:

 

I mean...uhh...Station go zoom?

[Rihn]

A wide smile parted Rihn's lips as she gave Ki a devious look.

 

"I imagine so."

 

Without another word, Rihn rose from the table. Taking care of her dishes, Rihn drew her attention back to Ki.

 

"As much as I've enjoyed chatting with you, this is the point where I paths diverge. At least for now. I have a hired bodyguard that will meet us at Nar Shaddaa and take you the rest of the leg of your journey to a safe house. There you will be taken care of until I can assure you're safety on Naboo."

 

Raising a finger to her chin, Rihn added, "Plus, I'm sure the Sun would be very interested to know that you live. If you would like, I could arrange a meeting with them for you. Think about it. I'll be in the cockpit."

 

Finishing what she had left to say, Rihn exited the room in preparation for their drop out of hyperspace.

 

((TO NAR SHADDAA))

[Slicer]

He laaunched in the coordinates to his next destination , before leaning back in his seat and watching the stars suddenly streak. Before he knew it, he had entered the wonderful world of hyperspace.

[Ary the Grey]

Aryian and Damon shoot through hyperspace in cool E-wings.

[Mr.Ewok]

Trok Kanik was floating in what could be considered the closet thing to the middle of nowhere. He looked out towards the stars as they twinkled with the occasional blast of light, a beautiful sight to be sure, though one Farley seen. His thoughts began to churn like the wheels of an old wooden cart, something still a bit too common on his home world for his own sake. He stroked his white mustache as he began to think deeper, yes the people of this galaxy were barbarians who ran quickly through life without any guidance what so ever. But was not almost every life form like that except for insect species or other more advance life forms.

 

El president Wicket was trying to bring order on Endor but things mostly remained the same. Oh of course there were more villages now and they had some flying craft along with nuclear weapons but most of the planet was still the same. They had no grand fleets like the Imperialist pig dogs did and neither did they have any super soldiers such as the Jedi or Sith. But that may change soon enough now that he had left his planet to travel the wider galaxy. He would of course join the Jedi seeing as how that if he joined the Sith he would most likely have to work with that theocratic empire run by mad men and magical monsters.

 

Also the Rebellion was much easier to sympathize with as it had more advanced social rights for aliens then the Empire did. That and the fact that it might be possible for him to make it more Red if he were to join it through various means. But his mind began to move away from the political side of things and began focus back on the Jedi and Sith. Both worshiped the same deity though they worshiped the different sides of it, this puzzled Trok as how one could choose to take sides on an issue were there was just right and wrong. He shrugged and turned to his hologram projector, which was running a commercial on the cosmic balance. For some reason it caught his attention, maybe it was the fact that the galaxy had a balance or the fact that it called the both the Jedi and Sith greedy. Ever way he continued to watch it and as it ended another commercial came up about a movie that would star a fictional Jedi called Star Killer or something like that.

 

Trok turned off the projector and started thinking maybe that the force also needed to be balanced. Perhaps this balance would be affected by the affects ones actions would have on society and others in general. Though it was also probably also affected by what and person thought and felt about anything. So to keep the balance one would have to not only improve all people but him too. And if one were to ruin society one would ruin one's self. He would have thought about this more but he needed to get to Coruscant and find the Jedi.

 

Trok warmed up the hyper drive and punched in the Coordinates for the giant planet city. Trok watched from the cockpit as the lines of space extended and shrank and was thrown into the blue energy realm known as hyperspace. He then got bored and decided he might as well sleep the rest of the way there, the Ewok walked out of the cockpit and into the cargo hold where he had put in a small hammock aside from the assortment of vehicles he had there. Trok then climbed in the thing and drifted off to sleep where he had fabulous dreams of ruling a famous core planet with an iron fist and also people dieing in fires.

[Ganelon of Seneferia]

Double checking the controls and coordinates to make sure that his ship would reach the Link without incident, Ganelon moves around the cramped cabin of his ship. Taking out a few glasses, he mixes up a Tatooine sunburn and gives a glass to his partner. The nobleman raises his and gives a toast on a job well done before taking a slow sip.

 

"We'll have some time before we reach the Casino," Ganelon observes, leaning back in his seat. "So I suppose we could chill out for a bit," he adds with a chuckle, still very glad to be off Tatooine.

 

Ganelon takes another sip, then meets Victoria in the eye. "I sure you've gotten the details how a change in fortune required me to end up working for Zara, but I'm curious as to what your story is. How did you and Durose end up at the Link?"

[Andon]

Through the sub-plane of hyperspace, a single Baudo-class star yacht silently traveled searching for any destination other then the one from which they had departed from. In the master bedroom husband and wife sat shoulder to shoulder on the foot of their bed, Andon holding Jai's hand gently waiting for her to speak what was on her mind. The renegade was anxious, both for the fear he had seen in his love's eyes and for the tiny sliver of life he could feel growing within her.

 

The thought of what the newborn would mean to them was enough to sate the concern etching away at his sense of control.

[Alora]

With the first jump programmed in, Alora left the cockpit to go and get changed. It seemed an age since she had relaxed in her spa. She gathered up a bathrobe, moving through the adjoining door to the spa room, leaving the doors unlocked as she hung the robe on the hook on the back of the door.

 

She ran the water, sprinkling in some sandalwood oils into the water and lighting a few fragrant candles around the bathroom. She programmed some soft relaxing music and shed her clothing, placing them into a pile on the chair in front of the dressing table.

 

Alora stepped into the spa and set it to a slow setting, hooking herself into the straps that would keep her from going under the water if she fell asleep in the tub. Closing her eyes she relaxed...

[Madi Ibra]

Madi dozed off, the comfortable bed leading him into the world of his dreams very quickly. His dreams were dark, visions of murder and blood, where energy bolts mingled with the sizzling air of an atmosphere ripe with explosive energy. An Imperial battle standard was cast into the red dust, behind it fell a soldier, his white helm rolled off and Madi looked into the sightless eyes of a corpse. There were yells and screams, familiar sounds of battle and then the shrieking of the wounded, soldiers who wanted nothing more than to die but were being denied that one small mercy. The roaring of Tuskans became clearer as the pain filled screams became louder.

 

He awoke in a cold sweat. Madi had experienced nightmares before but nothing like this. The images were so crisp and clear. He felt afraid...something terrible had happened. He had to find Alora. Madi reached out with the Force, just as she had taught him. He felt that Alora was close and followed his senses which led him into the spa. There was a slight fog in the room as steam and fragrance mixed and made the air heavy with scent. "Mistress?" Madi queried as he moved forward into the room. He made his way towards the bath, averting his gaze as he came upon Alora's naked form. "Mistress," he said, "I had a nightmare..but I don't think it was a dream. I think it was actual events...I'm confused."

[Alora]

Alora's eyes fluttered upon as she heard Madi's voice. The water bubbling up around her had made her drowsy. She was never one for being modest, rather the opposite, proud of her body. Because of her apprentice's history however, she raised her knees to show a token modesty, thinking it may make him feel more comfortable.

 

Her eyes met with his briefly before he averted his gaze from her. Briefly she smiled, though hid it quickly incase he looked back in her direction. Alora thought on his words a moment before speaking,

 

"The Force sometimes shows us things that have happened, or things that might happen. The future is always in motion. Some visions seen through the Force may be of things yet to come, or things that have already occurred. What you saw may have been a vision. They often appear as real as if you are watching the event occur."

[Slicer]

He had sent out a call to quite a few, people, in this case a couple of run of the mill smugglers, gangsters, and other so called scum of the galaxy and they had answered in knid to his wishes. He had place don every hyperspace and space route to and from Gala at least two or three different lookouts, all with the same purpose in mind, that being to watch out for the list of ships he had given them, which hadn't been all that big.

 

They were suppose to avoid detection and for the most part play the wait and see game, while he delivered money into the coffers. Which being the man of money that he was, he had set up a system to do so automatically. He was to be alerted the minute the target was on the move, either landing on gala or leaving Gala, and given how this system was infailable, this left him to prusue other options, which is what he settled on as he crused the hyperspace lanes enroute to his next destination.

[Madi Ibra]

The longer Madi was in the spa room with Alora the more drowsy he felt; the fragrance that mixed with the steam made the air heavy. Madi's gaze lingered on Alora's form and he felt a roaring sensation in his head. He felt himself move and before Madi knew it he was walking down into the bath. His robes swirled around his body as Madi entered the water. He walked steadily towards Alora, who rose to meet him. The steam wafted off her naked body as Madi dropped his robes into the water. His body met hers and he felt a hunger like he had never felt before. Madi kissed Alora passionately as their bodies rubbed against each others. He grasped her body and lifted her up out of the water as she wrapped her legs around his body...

 

Madi blinked and looked around. He was still standing beside the bath and Alora was looking up at him. Was it a dream? Or a premonition? I didn't fall asleep...

 

"I'll return to my quarters," Madi said, clearly disturbed by what he had seen. She is my teacher...one does not do such things with their teacher. He turned and left the room. Instead of going back to his room and letting the vision he had of Alora and himself evolve into something more, Madi took the text from the Academy on Cardia and made his way to the training room. He would let his desire and confusion fuel his training.

[Alora]

Alora observed Madi as he stood beside the spa, leaving her mind open to him. She noticed the glazed look that come across his face, picking it for another vision. Draken occasionally had visions as well, she'd seen some of them through the bond she shared with him. None of Madi's came through, their bond not yet strong enough to catch them.

 

The Sith Mistress figured that she should warn Madi that the strength of visions could have different reactions at different times depending on the content of them. Draken had almost gone comatose at times from visions. Before she could say anything to him, he was blinking his eyes, stating that he was going to return to his quarters.

 

Whatever he had seen obviously disturbed him as he left the bathing room. She raised her eyebrow, wondering if she should leave him to sort it out, then shaking her head, releasing herself from the supports that kept her head above the water. Giving herself a final dunking, she climbed out of the spa, letting the water go through the purifying recycle systems as she let it out. She toweled herself off, placing her robe around her and tying the waist. Before she dressed she would speak to Madi and see if he was alright, making her way to where he felt him to be... now in the training room.

 

"Are you alright? You had another vision?"

[Madi Ibra]

Madi had been following the basic steps of Form V. There were simple opening attacks and defensive stances that he could follow. For the more advanced movements he would need to find a holocron or advanced trainer in the art. I need a lightsaber, Madi thought as he looked at the training swords. I need to learn the Form with the weapon I'm going to use.

 

There were other thoughts on his mind too. Madi kept going back to the vision he had had of himself and Alora. At one point his mind became so permeated with the thought that he threw down the swords in frustration. Madi knelt on the floormat and tried to clear his thoughts. He felt Alora's presence as she entered the room. Madi ignored her question.

 

"I need a lightsaber to train with..when will I get one?" he asked her, avoiding looking at her lest the vision come back.

[Alora]

Alora raised an eyebrow at his tone, his frustration showing.

 

"Once you reach that stage of your training. You need to pass a test before I deem you ready to start with the lightsaber. Once we get to Vernza Torrah, you'll have rested enough to begin the test. I suggest you practice the other applications of the Force I've already shown you."

 

She moved into the training room to a section of the wall. Pressing a button, she pulled down the storage compartment, pulling out what resembled a hilt but wasn't.

 

"You can use this to get used to the weight ratio while you are practicing the form moves."

 

Her eyes searched his face, Alora moving back towards the door after she handed him the mock hilt.

 

"Was the vision that bad?" Pausing a moment, she added, "Be aware that the strength of visions can affect you in other ways. A former apprentice of mine has almost passed out after having a vision. It can take alot out of you."

[Madi Ibra]

"It was of us..together," Madi blurted out. He swore and turned away from Alora. "I don't know if it was a desire, a vision or a premonition," he told her. He felt angry and confused all at once. There were other ways to channel his anger. Madi tossed the training hilt to the side. Using the Force he brought the training swords to his hands with a focused movement. "Mistress," he called to her, "prepare to defend yorself." He sent one of the swords toward her.

 

Madi took up the first stance in Form V. The first stance had many different options but Madi chose the heavy down swing from a high point. He focused all of his confusion, anger and desire into the downward swing which could have been a killing blow. With a lightsaber, the text showed that with enough power and force mastery the downward stroke could pummel an opponent, beating aside their defense or crushing it with a single stroke.

 

I'm not an object..he thought furiously.

[Alora]

Her eyebrow raised again as he blurted out that it was about the two of them... the Sith Mistress kept her expression neutral though her eyes sparkled slightly as he turned away from her. When he turned back, sending a sword at her, Alora wasn't sure if she should be amused at him or the opposite. She was still in her bathrobe.

 

As he came at her, Alora was quick to bring the blade round to meet his, using the Force to push him back from her at the same time. He had alot of power behind his blow, the young woman having to use both hands on the sword to keep it steady as the blades clashed. With her legs braced, her robe parted to show her bare legs.

 

Her eyes flashed as she brought her blade around, falling into her form four stance. She created her illusions, tempted to use her pheromones because of his temper. She kept them in check though, instead advancing at him her blade now a flurry of movement. As the blades clashed again, she felt her bathrobe loosen. Alora was beyond caring about having to keep herself modest, if it came open during this, so be it. She would just have to be careful not to get cut by the blunt edges of the training blades.

[Madi Ibra]

At last Madi knew what it was like to be Sith; to revel in the utter ferocity of combat as his energy focused on crushing his enemy. But she's not your enemy, she's your teacher. Alora's form was perfect whereas Madi's was basic. Her flurried movements were countered with simple defences. The idea behind the defenses were to let Alora tire herself out with her elaborate movements. Madi fell back as Alora pressed his defence.

 

Her robe fell open and Madi was distracted for a moment as Alora's blade cut along his arm, leaving a fine cut. Focusing his pain into broad sweeping slashes he beat Alora back with his attack. She threw him back and Madi caught her side cut just in time. Their blades rang as they met and he sought to overpower her as the blades crossed and their faces were inches from one another between the crossed swords. Madi could feel her breath coming in gasps, he was breathing hard too. Madi's lips briefly touched Alora's before pulling back as they broke free of the blade-lock.

 

A mistake was made, a mis-step and Madi found himself on his back, looking up at Alora. He could have grasped his sword with the Force but she had her blade at his throat.

[Alora]

Her chest heaved as she caught her breath. Her robe had come open during the duel, showing her creamy white skin, not that she'd noticed as her blade rested at his throat. She held it there a moment before she removed it, turning from him. As she stepped away from him, her free hand came up to touch her lips. He had surprised her when he'd kissed her. Progress...

 

She turned back towards him, noticing he wasn't looking at her face. Looking down, she took in how her robe was still open. Giving another token modesty move, she wrapped the robe back around herself, tying it securely.

 

"I should go get dressed."

 

She made herself blush, just to give the impression that she had been affected by him seeing her naked.

[Skye Organa]

Serenity took several random jumps through the hyperspace lanes on it's way to it's destination carrying the Master Healer, a Knight and a Padawan...

[Rodya]

On auto-pilot, Rodya's black ship shoots though space bound for the Golden Link Casino. Rodya sits in the ship's galley contemplating his life, his work, and his next moves. He holds in his hand a dart gun, the size of any normal pistol except it is a brillantly shined silver color and reflects the dim lights of the ship's interior.

 

Rodya holds the gun in one hand while his other is occupied with a rag he is using to clean the weapon, "Here I am agian, blasting through space, alone. At least soon I will have the satisfaction of killing or at least maiming someone." He spins the gun around on one of his chunky fingers, "I still believe I should find myself an ally though. Not a human, too dramatic and weak. Perhaps a pet! Yes, I shall get myself a pet, but...what kind."

 

He thinks for a while on this matter. Thoughts of an animal deficating in his ship, having to feed and walk a hairy beast, and shedding! "I'm not dealing with shedding," he says to himself. "All that hair'll clog the air vents. Forget it, a pet is too messy."

 

"I suppose I'll settle for a droid," he finally says after a long pause, "but annoying machines roaming this place? Hmmmm, I guess I could program it with whatever personality I wished. And there certianly wouldn't be any cleanup."

 

That last statement settles this debate of Rodya's. He will make himself a droid. But what kind?, he thinks. He walks into one of the cargo holds and sits down at a workbench. There are a few basic tools and parts present that can be used in the construction of a droid. He does not have all the parts necessary by any means, but he sets to work constructing the seperate parts that will be needed. He'll pick up what he needs as he goes along...

 

After hours at his workbench, and after piecing together what he can with the parts he has, the auto-pilot alerts him that he will soon be exiting hyperspace. He leaves his work to take control of the ship. He can't wait to get started with this new bounty...

[ObliviousKnight]

Mere seconds after Misal's borrowed shuttle entered hyperspace, the elder Draygo rose from her seat. As she had promised Shawmus just prior to leaving Manaan, she promptly left the cockpit to her copilot's attention, muttering something about needing to perform some quick meditation before they arrived to wherever they were traveling. Her tone, however, implied that she wasn't being entirely honest with him.

 

Big surprise there.

 

She did, however, depart to the shuttle's living quarters, and the activity in the Force implied that she was in direct contact with it, either in genuine meditation or using it for some other purpose. For the time being, Shawmus was left to savor the silence in the cockpit, or become unnerved by it as he contemplated the prospect of being taught by such a peculiar personality.

 

His introspections, whatever they might be, were cut short by the unexpected whine of a repulsorlift array and the clash-hiss of a seeker remote bringing a stinger to bear on a target.

 

The sudden pain in his shoulder when one of the remote's nonlethal bolts lanced him in the torso, however, was sure to explain exactly what Misal Draygo had been doing in the living quarters all this time. She had retrieved the seeker remote that Armiena had lent him before leaving to Coruscant to save it from Barton's act of terrorism, and levitated it into the cockpit, where the only obvious target was the young apprentice. A flick of the drone's activation switch did the rest.

 

The remote, suddenly captured in the iron fist of an unseen force, charged Shawmus from the rear. Ordinarily, a seeker remote would engage a trainee at a distance so they could practice their lightsaber skills, but this one seemed intent on ramming its curved surface into the apprentice's skull, again and again and again, until he decided to do something about it or was pummeled into unconsciousness by the remote.

 

What he planned to do about it, however, was precisely what Misal intended to find out.

[Slicer]

This was basic knowledge. He knew that, he knew he shold have known that, however that didn't change the question at all.

While not being an actual perfect vacuum, outer space contains such sparse matter that it can be effectively thought of as one.

 

So why did he need a hyperdrive unit at all. Why could he just continually feed fuel to his boosters and have the compounding speed send him into the speed of light or somethign close.

 

Granted hyperspace alowed one to travel anywhere up to millions of times the speed of light, then again granted also was the fact that hyperspace itself was viewed as some sort of parallel universe.

 

Wich still made him wonder why compounding speed wouldn't allow him to reach teh speed of light or something close to it. It was clear through the use of hyperspace that ships could actually take what ever stress and strains that such a feat would put in them.

 

 

He shook his head silently, he should just stick to what they taught him in school. It was always safer than trying to speculate on something. After all some one must have already tried it, so why should he waste time trying to copy that which was already done.

 

He leaned back in his chair as his ship sped him through hyperspace to his next destination.

[ForceFusion]

"Ouch! What the--" Shawmus exclaimed as he was unexpectedly shocked from behind. He turned to see his friend the practice remote charging at him, malevolence clear in its posture. At least, it seemed malevolent to Shawmus.

 

But training in an A-Wing cockpit and relentless exercise these last few weeks had primed the apprentice for a situation such as this. He dove, with reckless abandon, out of harm's way. In retaliation, the remote fired at him twice, both shots stinging his gut, as Shawmus fumbled for his pink practice saber on his belt loop. By the time the third shot came in, he was ready to block it.

 

Yet, the remote did not fire a third shot. Instead, it continued to charge towards Shawmus, whirring hatred and violence with every centimeter it gained. The apprentice was again able to dodge the attack and re-group in time for any further attempts, which would surely come.

 

But now Shawmus had to make the decision as to how to use his weapon. He could probably swing accurately enough to contact the remote, but he didn't know how much damage it would do. A normal lightsaber would slice it in two, but the practice saber may not have that ability. And Shawmus didn't know how much Armiena had spent on that practice remote or how long this drill would go on. Was the destruction of the item really worth saving him some energy?

 

Only if they were pulled out of hyperspace by Imperial ships, Shawmus decided. There had to be a less destructive option. Again dancing to the side in the small cockpit, the apprentice avoided contact, leaving his pink blade in a defensive position, but not ready to strike with it. His feet moved gracefully as he pondered what exactly to do.

 

There was a switch on the remote that could end this exercise. But Shawmus would have to be able to reach the switch. And the remote was moving to quickly for him to reach out and flick it. He would have to stop the machine physically.

 

Shawmus wriggled his shoulders and arms in an attempt to free the jacket he'd been wearing. This proved to be difficult while playing keep-away with a homicidal orb in the confines of a starship cockpit. But, after a few minutes, the coat was free and Shawmus braced himself for a bit of pain.

 

Closing his eyes as the remote neared its target of Shawmus' forehead, he put the jacket in his two hands behind his head. Pain seared through his entire body, and the blackness behind his eyelids turned to red. But his reactions remained primed and he began to smother himself with the jacket.

 

Clambering on the floor, he finally took his head from the suffocating twist of coat and remote and pinned his enemy to the ground. "Gotcha!" he cried triumphant, then reached under the coat with one hand while pinning it with his knees. After a few moments of fumbling, he found the switch, and the trial was over.

 

After taking a deep breath, not of relief but of anger, Shawmus bellowed, "What in the stars was that?!?"

[ObliviousKnight]

"A lesson, if you like. Also a warning." The pommel of a short, but nonetheless deadly knife pressed into Shawmus' kidney. Somehow, while the apprentice was wrestling with the remote, Misal Draygo had managed to escape his notice and slip directly behind him--her voice had come directly from the cockpit itself! "Always, always be mindful of your surroundings. The Jedi even teach this directly, through their needlessly cryptic code--There is no ignorance; there is knowledge, I believe it says.

 

"Before I even considered borrowing this ship, I learned everything I needed to know about it. Control layout, naturally; benchmarks, handling characteristics, maintenance procedures... and the layout of the maintenance crawlspaces..." She hissed into his ear, explaining exactly how she had wound up behind him. The pommel of that honed knife withdrew, to be replaced by a gloved hand that she offered to help him to his feet.

 

"But you did well. My daughter wouldn't have terribly minded if you had destroyed her remote--accidents happen--but you thought about what you would do, and then you did it. Just don't try that tactic with a live blaster."

[Durose Roshan]

Victoria sipped on her Sunburn as Ganelon did likewise.

 

"Thanks, Mr. G."

 

At Ganelon's question, Victoria laughed.

 

"Durose. He ended up picking up a job at the Link. Don't ask me why, though. He isn't the people person kind of guy. He rarely even works with others, period. With me, I think he just felt sorry for me and decided to show me the ropes. And even then, once he felt I was ready to go it alone, we parted ways. Of course, I still kept in contact with him from time to time. When he told me about his new job and offered me a position I figured, 'why not?'"

 

Victoria laughs a little.

 

"The next thing I know I'm running security and flying around with the likes of you. Not that that's a bad thing, of course. It's just different... You know... You always have money coming in. You don't have to worry about your next meal or your next job. You don't have to go looking for one or think about how long it will take or if the pay will be enough. It's take me some time to adjust, but I think I've gotten the hang of it."

 

Victoria took another sip.

 

"What about you? This isn't something you're used to, is it? I thought I remember hearing something or other about you being a business man of sorts. I don't imagine running around the galaxy is your style."

[ForceFusion]

Shawmus' eyes widened with fear when the blade pressed against his back and Misal spoke. Was this the end of him, assassinated by some obscure woman claiming to be his master's mother? But who would want to assassinate him? And how could her presence in the Force be so similar to Armiena's was she not, in fact, her mother?

 

The conclusion Shawmus drew as the knife was taken away was that Misal was slightly off her rocker. And couldn't be fully trusted.

 

Her words were indeed wise, especially dealing with someone like herself. Shawmus stood, putting on a straight face. "Good point," he said with forced casualness. "I guess I've got a bit of exploring to do."

 

Opening himself up deeply into the flow of the Force, he began to acquaint himself with the ship. And in every moment he concentrated on the woman's presence. He couldn't even imagine what hardships she might bring about at their destination.

[Ganelon of Seneferia]

Ganelon listens attentively, filing that information away for future use.

 

When she finishes, his eyes blink shut, trying to carefully figure out how to answer her question.

 

"I started out touring the galaxy as a younger man of means and made my way around it, intent on having a good time. However, the family holdings began to run low, so as a matter of honor I put the time I spent traveling abroad to use, working for a major galactic business as one of their chief factors, conducting trade deals, working on shipping, and managing their offices." He gives a small smile, remembering those days as mostly good times, save for an incident over Bespin.

 

"As it was, I made a small nest egg, then used it to set up a small... business venture from which I needed a large sum of money from Zara. That venture profitted at first, then fell into trouble due to politics at home and other matters." Those unlisted other matters included drinking, drugs, debauchery, gambling, one paid assassination attempt, and several other expendatures it would be beyond a gentlemen of his stature to name aloud. "After those troubles, I found myself deeply in Zara's debt, and to repay it, I offered to go back to my old job, though working for her now."

 

Ganelon takes a deep drink from a pocket flask, deciding he might as well get the gritty details out of the way. Draining it entirely, he tucks it back in his coat. "After you report back to Durose, wondering how this charming gentleman could be so dangerous and need watching, he'll probably tell you why. As it was, that business venture that put me in Zara's pockets involved working with a team of experts at lifting several billion credits from the Link's nigh impenetrable vault- repayment for an injury given to me by Zara's ex-husband and co-owner of the Casino at the time. It was a success," he adds with a small laugh, "though for some reason it made Zara very, very put out with me..." He gives a small, dramatic sigh, showing the device on his wrist. "Of course, she's been willing to give me a chance to redeem myself and make good on the money I owe her. Still," he says with a shrug, "it's a living and nearly getting blasted by Hutt thugs is far more exciting, not to mention safer, than sitting in on a boring Seneferian Council meeting."

[ObliviousKnight]

"Now, I suggest that you strap yourself in. We'll be dropping out of hyperspace in just a few... seconds, and..." Misal Draygo stopped wasting time with her words and slid into the pilot's seat in the cockpit. She left unsaid the hazards of remaining standing while a ship decelerated from hyperspace, presuming that as an experienced pilot, Shawmus would sure know to rush for his seat, lest the sudden deceleration send his body flying into the nearest bulkhead.

 

Although she wanted to constantly keep him on his toes, she didn't wish to see him seriously injured. Besides, Misal would have her daughter to answer to if her Padawan was scarred by the training.

 

((My next post will be in Ilum.))

[handofthrawn]

Though many wouldn't suspect it, ShadowFett did sleep. Sometimes he slept in hyperspace, like he was now. And, believe it or not, sometimes he dreamed. It wasn't common, for he was always at peace within himself, each day driven towards a goal and each night merely a prelude to the next day, his sleep only to maintain his maximum efficiency and strength.

 

But this particular night cycle was different. His dream was strange:

 

He found himself on Tatooine. It was basically a big bright planet, uncomfortably warm and usually full of scum. He had been there several times in the past, usually hunting bounties or picking fights with his enemies. Once he had been there to have a talk with Whyl the Hutt, but that had been an unpleasant time.

 

Right now, he appeared to be in the sand dunes, perhaps miles away from any civilization. Before him stood a man.

 

"Greetings, Mr. Fett," the man said.

 

ShadowFett nodded simply, unsure of who this man was.

 

"My name is Marc Specter," the man said by way of introduction. "You may or may not have heard of me. It is quite possible that you know me by my title, Moon Knight."

 

Recognition flared in Fett's mind. Moon Knight was familiar to him, but he knew very little about the man. For some reason, he couldn't remember Moon Knight looking like this man.

 

As if reading his thoughts, Specter gave half a smile. "Moon Knight, you must understand, is not a single, fixed being, but a title that is passed down from one person to the next as the previous dies. Other things are passed down, too, and I will explain this to you."

 

Fett looked at him steadily. "Before you do so, tell me why you are saying this."

 

Marc returned his gaze. "The previous Moon Knight has died. He was Yuusuke Hakusho. Once again, the time has come to pass the title to someone else."

 

Making the deduction was simple. "You want me to be the next Moon Knight. What's the catch?"

 

With a smile, the spirit of a man before him nodded his head. "You will have the access to all the benefits of the title under a single condition. I am a man of morality and I stand for what I consider 'good' in this galaxy. Since you have shown capacity to do good through your interpretation of the Mandalorian Codex, you have been chosen."

 

Fett's mask betrayed no emotion. Behind it, he was thinking. It had been a more recent trend, but he was beginning to really see corruption in a new light. Would it not be the best testament to the existance of Mandalorians if he were to actually stand for his morals in a more direct fashion? He had displayed many neutral tendencies in the past, sometimes just not caring enough to get involved. But he would find it very easy to stand more firmly for his codex, though he wanted by no means to impress it on others.

 

There had always been a sort of will to defeat corruption and slay evil beings just because of their alignment. This will had varied in importance over time, but recently had made a move upwards in his priority of thoughts.

 

Presently, he nodded. "I am willing to do this."

 

Marc smiled. "Good. Now, I have several things to explain."

 

...

 

When Fett awoke, the night cycle had ended. Specter had explained to him what he needed to know, and he would indeed now take up the mantle of Moon Knight. It was a curious thing, a new move to take after having changed identities more than once recently.

 

Tatooine, he thought, standing up and heading to the cockpit. "Twenty-two seventy-seven," he said, "take us to Tatooine."

 

"Yes, master," the droid said. "Might I inquire why?"

 

Fett nodded. "You may, but you won't get an answer."

 

2277 was satisfied. He had learned long ago that ShadowFett spoke when he wanted to and didn't speak when he didn't want to. He was satisfied by that. "Changing course now, sir."

 

The Redawn of Vengeance exited hyperspace, made a ninety-degree turn, and reentered the alter-dimensional means of transportation within seconds. They were on their way to Tatooine. More specifically, they were on their way to the Temple of the Moon.[/i]