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Ary the Grey

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The fact that Sapphire was still halfway wanting something to happen, even if she wasn't going to push for it, told Emerald that the other woman did not fully understand what she had been getting at. But they were both fairly hotheaded, even as calculated as Sapphire could tend to be, and Emerald also couldn't fault her for wanting something shiny--even if it was a man. And even if that man was Kalen.

 

"What are friends for," she said dryly. It wasn't a question, and the silence hung awkwardly between them for a moment before the proximity alarm sounded.

 

Pushing past her friend, Emerald moved to the cockpit of the Glory.

 

"Huh. Looks like they're monitoring all incoming and outgoing traffic. That, uh, doesn't look good for us," she said wryly.

 

Just then, a comm from Ruby pinged on their communications console, and the holonet broadcast called for by the Naptime Protocol showed up. Glancing forlornly at Sapphire, she repeated, "That really doesn't look good for us."

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Sapphire was more than glad to let the subject drop. But the information that suddenly streamed into the cockpit was not at all what she wanted to hear. "Sithspit," she growled. "Kriff those kriffing Imperial scum-suckers to hell." She sat down in the pilot's chair. Naptime Protocol meant that the situation was serious. They had put it in place in the event of something unthinkable. It looked like the unthinkable had just occurred. No one in several hundred years had dared attack the Smuggler's Moon; it was just their luck that only a few weeks after they had moved in, the Imps showed up. "Maybe one of our people sold us out," she muttered. "The timing is just too convenient. Or maybe it's your friends the Sith." She couldn't resist the jab.

 

"Well, so much for our little check up trip. Amethyst will have to take care of herself. We're needed back home." Without waiting for Emerald's agreement, she dropped the ship out of hyperspace, put in reverse coordinates, and sent them hurtling back. "Better let our starlet know we'll miss this show."

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Blood Gem Pirate

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The blonde shrugged. "Suit yourself."

 

Tapping in a quick message to Kalen, she rerouted it through several channels and encryptions such that it would never be traced back to them.

 

"What's your plan? We can't tackle that many ships head-on," she pointed out.

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"Of course not," Sapphire agreed. "If Ruby has shut everything down, she knows that too. But I don't trust those Imperials to play nice. They might not even honor her request for parlay. And if that's the situation, then we might need to pull her out of there. And I'd rather be on the scene than halfway across the galaxy if she needs us."

 

She paused. "Do you think the Sith will intervene?"

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Blood Gem Pirate

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Emerald glowered. "I don't trust them as far as I can throw them. But we can try to rally some backup. Where's that monstrosity of a BB-unit? He should be able to get a hold of Kain."

 

As if on cue, BB-666 rolled into the cockpit with a resounding blatt.

 

"Yeah, you," she said gruffly. "Get a hold of that creep that dropped you off here and let him know it's time to hold up his end of the bargain."

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If there was one thing Chess loved more than anything else it was the freedom and opportunity of open space. The Zeta-class shuttle was unfamiliar and bulky, not to mention visually unappealing, but more spacious than the Minx. Chess brushed their paw over the controls, eyeing the data panels with their slightly off-colour displays. Out of the viewport window Chess could see The Minx, cruising casually off to their starboard side. The Cathar felt a rush of gratitude towards their astromech droid - Oz was everything they could ask for and more. Once out of orbit they would open up a channel, to check up on their little droid pair.

 

BB-05 tweeted as soon as they opened a comm, whistling so fast Chess had to ask her to calm down.

“I know, I know, I haven’t given you very much information about the mission, but sweetheart, it’s because I don’t know much about it myself. I have no idea what kind of being we’re going to meet on Onderon, or what our new employer really wants. I mean, who would go through this much trouble just to sell some beauty cream?” Oz beeped thoughtfully, while apparently also adjusting the portside stabilizers. Chess saw the Minx do a little wobble.“How’s Binoo holding up?”

 

In the background, Chess could hear the power droid plonking steadily. PLNK models had less emotion in their programs, so Chess had to rely on direct binary translation to figure out what Binoo was expressing. At this moment, the droid seemed worried about the fact that Chess was not onboard the Minx.

 

“I know buddy, and just to ease your systems this shuttle is definitely no luxury craft. I’m pretty sure some of these parts are from last century, and the glowing from the crates I’ve got in the cargo hold is stronger than the brightest nightlight. Trust me, as soon as I can drop this shipment I’m gonna be back aboard the Minx and nagging at you to fix the energy conservation in the reserve power banks.” Binoo blooped, content, and faded into the background. Oz was happy enough to resume the conversation, and Chess decided to keep the links open as they traveled. It was nice to have company.

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A comm returns to the droid, addressed to the Blood Gem Pirates:

 

 

Blood Gems,

 

This is a rather unexpected move for the Remnant. There is no value for them on Nar Shaddaa, and it is doubtful they know the full scope of our operations there. For the time being, tolerate the incursion. Intelligence will be gathered on why they came to Nar Shaddaa, and a reckoning will come. Their necks are exposed, we simply wait for the right time to strike.

 

Also, your ship is almost ready. Have you thought of a name, or will Nightshade's Dusk work?

 

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Like my posts? Google "zalgo font."

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

 

 

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Space was vast, and even a ship as well-endowed as the Nebula's Glory could only fly through it so fast. Sapphire had the feeling that by the time they arrived, it would be too late to do anything to prevent the takeover. Of course, it wasn't as if they could have done anything anyway. But she was eager to get back, and so she pushed the engines a little past safe speeds.

 

In the meantime, they got a message back from their Sith partner. BB-666 played it aloud for the two of them, and Sapphire shook her head. "Well, at least we should have their help in the future. I know that little will actually be lost for us, but it's kriffing annoying." She sighed. "Back to the old apartment, then, I assume. We can relocate some of our key people nearby. Profits are gonna slump a little until things get back on their feet and the Imperial scrutiny dies down." She realized she was talking to fill the silence, and hastily changed the subject. "Anyway, that's a stupid name for a ship. We need something a bit more colorful."

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Blood Gem Pirate

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Celora looked around in awe as she manuvered around the common area of the large ship, the only large ship outside of the Eventuality of Justice that she had ever been on. Unlike the Imperial ship, with its perfect cleanliness and minimalisitic atitude, the ship of the Hutt was filled with excess and pleasure. Food and drink like she had never seen, even in the far away palaces of the rich on Nar Shaddaa, beds of exquisite comfort and droids ready for any wants. The bodyguards of Sheog lounged about throughout the area.

 

Celora turned to the silent beast-man that had joined them upon Nubia, a little smile on her face as she quietly said, "So... that was cool. Are you, uh, part of them? I mean, of course you are... since you're here now and joined us back there. Are you like... a master, or did you come for training? Uh, I'm Celora... I guess, umm, I'll talk to you later then, maybe?" Celora walked away, the strange lack of reaction from the beast-man disappointing her normal awkardly friendly attitude. Celora spotted someone she recognized standing near a food table, his dangerous looking animal nearby. Shyly, Celora asked the warrior who had handed her the E-11, which was still strapped to her back, about the various delicasies available on the tables, most of which she had no idea where they came from. "Uhm, Hi there... I, don't really know what most of these foods are... Which do you like? Thanks for the blaster by the way. Nice pet you have there."

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From the bridge viewport of the Demented Madness, the dark figure stared longingly. There was the black of space that stared back at the man, but his gaze was of a more exalted nature, seeing much more than what was plainly before him. The deep emerald varnish of his eyes was a pure extract of raw energy, unspeakably concentrated on the unknown. “The future is before us, old friend. We were once few and scattered. Now we are many, and mightier than ever before.” Words fell from the metal across his face slowly, emphasizing the level of detachment that he now embodied. The realization that the two of them had indeed left Nubia behind, had seeped into his mind, before his hand leisurely lifted to caress his own face. This was the same reality, the touch of his own skin made sure of it. These days it became increasingly more difficult to tell the difference between the power of the mind and the fragility of the present. It was the whispers from the demons in the shadow of every corner that reassured him that he was indeed, still alive. Reclining deeper into the glove of the seat, he closed his eyes and felt out the threads that knitted the tapestry of the Dark Side.

 

 

  • "You will have your fill yet, Master Krath." Exodus continued to search the nothingness before him.

 

The Demented Madness would soon be synchronized with a time-sensitive communication from the Lightbreaker that trailed. The loud alert would resonate within the room, but the Dark Lord remained still and unphased by the sounds. The Lightbreaker had been programmed to set in motion a course of events that would embolden those that answered the call, firing off multiple exchanges of information with secured encryption to several individuals. This vessel here would receive simple coordinates, and nothing more than that, for their prominent guest held all of the answers. Exodus centered the rotation of his seat to divert his attention to the impressive Hutt, a creature so submersed in his cravings, it was a wonder how the worlds before him did not collapse by way of his very tongue.

 

 


  • "..What is it that drove you to power? Your species are in disorder, do you not wish to rally them under your umbrella?"

 

 

======

 

[Comms are being sent to specific planets/individuals now]

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Hyperspace was something that she hadn’t really gotten used to yet. To be moving past lightspeed around the galaxy in the blink of an eye navigating using charts like explorers on terrestrial seas, she loved the feeling. The timid reaction that kindled in her mind when she placed a hand on the warm inner hull of the Lambda shuttle as stars whipped by. She loved space travel. Compared to walking it was awesome. She practised her kicks and strikes for a while in the large but currently empty troop bay with all its slung up jumpseats and eventually went to sleep beside her mother. Those strong arm the only embrace that she could sleep in. Curled up in a ball underneath the sheets beside Qaela.

 

The soft beeping from the hyperdrive counter woke her up. The decking was brutally cold to her bare feet as she trotted over to the control panel and pressed the blinking red button that she had seen Qaela press several times in the microjumps that had gotten them out of the Korriban system. She looked at the scrolling text on the display and regretted her inability to read before she keyed the vocal transmission unit. It cut in mid scrol, the AI’s voice booming over the speakers to likely awaken Qaela as well.

 

“-ector four three zero on the Randon Run, preliminary scannings tell us that there are a mass of readings around a ship classified as the Demented Madness which is ID’d as friendly by the IFF systems. You should know mistress Tel that it is registered to your friend Sheog the Mad. As per preflight patterns I am broadcasting our itinerary and passenger lists to the Sith Fleet. It that allright mistress Tel?”

 

It Is

“Is that all right Mistress Tel?”

 

Telperiën shook her head, the droid couldn’t read the force, how could she be so dumb. Hopefully mama wasn’t watching. Telperiën coughed and opened her mouth to speak, and with great effort, her soft voice could be heard audibly in the cockpit.

 

“I-it is. I am okay with that.”

 

She licked a little blood off her lips with her sleeve and rubbed her hand on her neck. It hurt so much, like someone was running sandpaper down her throat with every syllable. But the pain was refreshing, it focused her mind. She looked back at Qaela, her purple eyes reflecting from the control panel.

 

“Morning mama.”

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A response to Exodus' message and summons reached the Demented Madness.

 

 

Does the Spider worry the Wolf has forgotten his pack?

The wolf protects against those that try to steal it's pups,

while the beast within merely lacks worthy prey.

But now the Wolf shall return to the pack as the Spider requests,

And then the Wolf will hunt the the prey of the pack.

 

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I ate a hippo. It was delicious.

May the Forth therve you well...

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The Vermandois watched their young charge interact with the mindless beast that had joined them on Nubia. Its nature confused them, it had aspects of humanity and beast, but no personality. It was disappointing to see such wasted potential bound to human form. Karema stood, allowing the Ewok-leather from the couch caress his robes as they clung to it with an oily stickiness. His sneer of disgust deepened as he wrenched the crimson and gold silk from the couch’s grasp to the giggles of his brother. Karema let his cape flow about him and gave it a quick swirl about his frame to ensure it still fell in a way that accentuated his hips. Delicate fingers, painted in a variety of patterns stifled a yawn as it escaped his pale lips.

 

“Oh goodness girl. All the food is certainly edible, however your meager sense of taste would scarcely fathom all the subtleties obscured by their nature.”

With a sniffle, and a flounce of his curls, Karema seized a chocolate eclair with the Force and let it past his lips in an unseemly rush, eliciting another giggle from his brother.

 

“Oh not so deeeep Karema!”

 

The Sith Master channeled the flush from his cheeks away as he chewed, eying Celora as he swallowed

 

“A marvelous confectionary masterpiece. Flaked crust from an Alderaanian starter, butter from freshly milked nerfs… Chocolate harvested from Rathaki V, mixed with a creamed stimcaf tartar, handchurned by an Ewok, before his sacrifice to Lord Ar-Pharazon.”

 

He let out a small sigh of happiness, before continuing.

 

“Now, let's put these lessons together. Bind a dessert in the Force, and draw it to your lips. Explore its creation, find everything within it.”

 

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-------

 

Hunger swirled about his mind like the grasping currents of the sea. It touched every part of him, it drove his desires and his loves. The massive Hutt breathed in a deep breath of the recycled air. He could feel the life about him, each creature unaware of their entanglement within his currents. Their thoughts were their own, but directed within their will to his own gains. Each breath of the air carried with it the taste of a new thought, a new direction of the current. His tastes were vast, and with each exhale he channeled strength into the current, letting it bind with the shadows that were spun beside him by the spider.

 

<>

 

The currents were fed now with the joyful deaths of Corellia. The Jedi Council reduced to ash and bone. Broken and twisted permacrete, painted crimson in the blood of thousands

 

<>

 

The Master of the Krath lifted his wooden pipe to his lips, caressing the taste of the ironwood and clay as he stoked an ember within the spiced tobacco. A cloud of sweetened smoke stained the air, following the unseen currents

<>

 

Another exhalation of smoke and the glowing ember illuminated a smile on his greasy lips.

 

<

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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Celora frowned slightly, a major question mark showing through her facial expressions as she watched the interactions of the Sith masters. She filed away this exchange in the quickly growing mental folder of 'strange activites' she had collected since she had escaped Nar SHaddaa. The girl glanced back down at the food as the Sith finished telling her to use the force again, her fingers itching to grab one of the many foods spread out in the area, "Like, I kinda just wanted to eat normally? I mean, I really appreciate everything you guys have done, mostly... except dropping me, repeatedly. It's just that using the Force is not very easy for me you know, it takes a lot of work. I'm just not that good at it I guess, just like everything else I've done... I'm pretty exhausted and really hungry. I guess I will try though, if you really want me to."

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Chess doesn’t know how to reach Booster Rann, but if one of the tracking devices they found on their ship belongs to him, then he’ll know where they’re going anyway. Oz has programmed a flight to Tatooine into both of the ships’ computers; it’ll take a couple of days, but they’ll get there. They’ll need the time anyway, to prepare for the meeting with Fuzz and perhaps to also figure out what exactly should be done with the spyware and how to spend their newly-earned credits. Tatooine doesn’t have much, unless you count gambling and pit fights, but you never know what you might find in the scrap-yards, and there are plenty of things the Minx could use.

 

Chess misses that ship with every passing moment. The Cathar feels a little more comfortable leaving the Zeta shuttle in autopilot for now; this seems like a good opportunity to open up the databanks to see what they can learn about the Black Sun, as well as Booster Rann.

 

There is a plethora of information concerning the Black Sun, but finding facts among the fiction is more like fishing for trout in a pool of minnows. There are plenty of rumours, contributing everything from mysterious disappearances to a poor harvest to the crime syndicate, although some of its members appear to have been killed or jailed by authorities in the Corporate Sector, the Galactic Alliance, and even the Imperial Remnant. What is interesting is the reasons certain members were jailed. Those imprisoned in the Galactic Alliance were jailed under the catch-all offence of being Black Sun members, while those sentenced in by CoreSec officials and Empire high-ups seemed to be punished for specific crimes, such as theft or murder. The Empire’s punishments usually resulted in execution, specifically for members of the Black Sun, while CoreSec preferred to send wrong-doers to detention stations or labour colonies. Chess files that information into the back of their mind, with a niggling feeling that it might be useful later.

 

As for Booster Rann, well, he seems to be a little harder to track. The Corellian has a finger in more than one proverbial pie, what with his name popping up behind several sturdy companies, most of which look completely legal. His most conspicuous product at the moment is GungaGlow, which appears to be a new item on the market. As for the man himself, well there isn’t a scrap of personal information. He appears to be Corellian, but whether or not he still lives on the planet is unknown. Many of his threads lead to Coruscant, which feels like a clue, but Chess isn’t going to bet on a feeling. After all, most businesses could find a market on Coruscant, what with it’s absurdly wealthy population and its desire for a little bit of every available culture possible. If there was one thing this Booster knows, it’s subtlety.

 

Chess knew that they had stepped into a nest of vipers the moment they’d walked into that bar back on Onderon. Now it seems prudent to draw up some contingency plans, just in case. After unplugging from the Holonet, Chess opens up a channel with Oz and begins plotting three different courses from Tatooine; one to Scarif, one to Trulalis, and one to Ryloth. It always pays to be prepared.

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Qaela spent the days of their trip through hyperspace preparing for whatever the Sith may have planned. She made good use of the supplies she brought with her from Korriban to make new toys and weapons that might prolong the survival of her and her daughter.

 

She created some balls a two centimeters thick made of durasteel and spent some time sodering small barbed fish hooks to them at various angles extending their diameter to around five centimeters. When she had made two dozen of them, she began enchanting them and imbuing them with the same spells that could make something nearly invincible. She also had Telperien practice, and through some trial and error, the girl was able to make some headway in performing the spell properly.

 

These balls, while impractical to be used by conventional weapons, could be placed in a small durasteel pipe and, with the application of a quick spell and telekinetic push of the Force, become highly deadly projectiles. Propelled through the Force with enough velosity, the hooks would shred armor and tear flesh without bending or deforming and do considerable damage even to creatures with thick hides like Hutts.

 

She also used her mother's old Grimoire and prepared some poisons that would induce violent hallucinations in most humanoid species. The poison itself drew upon the spirital realm itself to bring the Darkness into the minds of those it infected. Some of the poison could be released by gas, others by injection. Chaos was a friend to those trying to make a getaway while outnumbered and this poison would definitely do the trick.

 

When they reverted into hyperspace at their final destination, she was unsurprised to find a large Sith ship waiting with escorts swarming around. The Sith were on the move again.

 

She acknowledged her daughter with a nod, making note of her voiced speech and the blood it brought. She would look into that later, but for now, her attenting was focused on the Sith. "This is Qaela Darksong, I was summoned and now respond." She kept it short and to the point.

Qaela Sig

Send PM's to Travis.

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The journey to Nhagathul was, all things considered, fairly quiet. The comforting hiccup in the hyperdrive had been fixed by industrious Solaris techs in the wake of Tares' retrieval order, and while she was desperately happy to have the Traitor's Hope operable once more, she took it upon herself to search every inch of the ship up and down in an effort to keep her mind off of her daughter--and, if she were being completely honest, to keep her niece at arm's length. For as much as Jaina longed for a meaningful and lasting reconciliation with Emily, the woman was a largely unknown quantity, a volatile being who had as much reason to hate Jaina as she had to love her.

 

From underneath the maintenance access panels in the repair bay, however, hanging upside down by her knees over a metal crossbeam and wiping grease off of her cheek with the back of her hand, Jaina had to wonder if this was really a productive use of her time or if it might not be more worthwhile meditating to try and sense Tirzah through the Force. An unsettled anxiety had settled into the pit of her stomach, and the compulsive repairs she had been effecting across the ship were the tactile equivalent to pacing. The darkness on Nhagathul had never before extended beyond the borders of the planet's atmosphere. Why it chose to do so now, to seize her daughter, she had not the slightest idea.

 

A chime from the cockpit sounded, and Jaina jerked her head up, smacking it solidly on the side of the narrow maintenance chamber. Whispering curses under her breath, she slipped her hydrospanner back into the toolbox and vaulted out of the access hatch, sliding the panel closed with a nudge from the Force as she exited into the corridor and made her way around the curved hallway to the cockpit.

 

As she rounded the corner, there, looming in the viewport, stood Jaina's greatest fear.

 

Nothing.

 

The planet wasn't there.

 

Emily's signature in the Force announced her arrival, which her catlike footsteps would have otherwise obscured. Tapping manically on the console, Jaina brought up the navigation screen. Precluding any snarky comment about the age and functionality of her ship, Jaina snapped, "It should be here. The configuration is all correct. The star charts are accurate to when I was here with--"

 

A deafening scream brought an abrupt end to Jaina's sentence as she clapped her hands over her ears, doubling over against the console. Dimly, she was aware of Emily's concern and a more primal panic that must have been the tuk'ata. Blocking her ears did nothing to prevent the intensity of the sound, and she fell into the Force to brace her senses against whatever assault was trying to overwhelm them.

 

It was only then that she placed the voice, so guttural and bloodcurdling it scarcely seemed human. The scream was Tirzah's. Placing her hands flat against the console, her elbows trembling, she dove into the darkness surrounding the girl's essence, clawing through murky waters made of spirit in a last desperate attempt to reach her daughter. Ineffably, she knew: if she could not reach Tirzah now, it was likely that she never would.

 

Deathly cold grasped at her heart, crushing darkness at odds with the light she bore within her. It was closing faster than she could keep it at bay.

 

As quickly as the sound had started, it was gone. Turning her head to regard her niece, sweating with the fruitless exertion, she opened her mouth but couldn't muster the words.

 

Lightyears away, in the center of the galaxy, the monitor watching over the heart rate of the dark-headed child began to wail her requiem.

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...why are the pretty ones always the most hazardous to your health?

May the Forth therve you well...

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Throughout the journey, Jaina was distant. But that didn’t surprise Emily; Emily had already proven she was a wild card, and the first few tentative steps at reconciliation were more than she could have hoped for at this point. It was going to take time to repair something like this. Emily was willing to invest that time—and invest more, as she hoped her presence here would prove—but that meant that sometimes, there was nothing to do but wait.

 

While Jaina occupied herself by tinkering with non-critical systems onboard the ship, Emily actually spent some time meditating. She had never been a fan of just sitting and thinking, but recently she had begun to value the emptying of oneself and the clarity it brought to her clouded, troubled mind. The moment she stopped meditating, all her problems would come rushing back, but there were moments where she was truly able to forget herself and let her consciousness merge into that of the universe—the Force. She couldn’t help but envision an ocean, placid but powerful, the tides constantly ebbing and flowing. The sound of the waves. She had never seen a real ocean in her life, but she had heard it described and she had seen holos. There was something innately soothing about the image, and it was a drastic change from the cyclone of power that was the image she normally encountered when using the Force.

 

Whenever she wasn’t meditating, she was training. She still hadn’t fully gained her strength back after her ordeal, and she knew that she would have to be better than she had been before. She pushed herself through strength exercises and physical conditioning, working with her new lightsaber, and refreshing techniques with Roe’gall. The tuk’ata had gotten a little lazy tagging along behind Raia, and Emily drilled with him for several hours during the voyage.

 

Finally, there was a chime from the cockpit. Emily rose from where she had been doing some stretches and headed to the cockpit in bare feet. Her aunt was already there. Jaina pulled back the lever and the ship dropped out of hyperspace…into an empty void. Both women stared at the emptiness for a moment. Jaina began to double check their position, and Emily felt a twinge of dread crawl up her insides. She suddenly had a massively bad feeling about this.

 

Suddenly, Jaina reeled. Emily was there in a flash, stretching out with the Force, trying to figure out what was amiss. Was Jaina under some sort of Sith attack? She immediately sent Force-strength to her aunt, attempting to shore up the other woman’s mental barriers, while at the same time reaching out and probing the surrounding area. Perhaps Nhagathul was here after all, and just lurking invisibly? But how could you hide an entire planet?

 

Jaina cried out, a wounded moan, and then, suddenly, Emily knew. She knew that sound. It was the sound her heart had been making for the last several weeks. The sound of a mother’s heart broken in two. “No,” Emily whispered. She took a step back. “No. No! NO!” She was shaking her head violently. Anger descended on her like a red haze. It couldn’t be. It was just so incredibly not right. It wasn’t fair.

 

“Haven’t we paid enough?” The rhetorical question came out as a broken, anguished whisper. She knew the answer. There was no such thing as enough. Not for the road Emily—and, she sensed, to a certain extent, Jaina—walked. Andon had known it. John had known it. It had ended up costing both men their lives. And now it had cost the women their children.

 

Emily’s head whirled. Every time she regained a modicum of hope, it was dashed. She had just discovered her cousin. And now, before Emily even had the chance to know her, she was taken away. The anger reached a boil. This was the point of no return. Dark siders had done this. She knew it. They had attacked Tirzah, they had dangled hope of rescue in front of Jaina, and then they had killed her simply because they enjoyed making people suffer. How had Emily ever allied herself with scum like that? She understood the nature of the dark side. She had been there. She knew what Darth Eris would have done. So why had she allowed herself to believe that they would stand a chance at rescuing Tirzah in the first place?

 

In her tumult, she had focused solely on herself. Now, she remembered the other woman in the cockpit. Weakly, she turned to her aunt. “Jaina,” she croaked, “I…I’m so…sorry.” Unshed tears sparkled in her mismatched eyes. “I…we will make them pay.” Her list of beings to take her revenge on was getting long. But she wouldn’t give up. No matter how long it took her. They deserved to pay for the pain they had caused. Their torment would never equal what they had put Jaina through—as the Cult’s would never equal what they had put Emily herself through—but Emperor’s black bones, she was going to try.

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

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An Extremely Urgent comm message came in for Jedi council member Jaina Jade Skywalker

 

When activated, the diminutive Jedi Knight's form could be seen, recording from a hospital bay, heavily bandaged.

 

“Jedi Master Jaina Jade Skywalker, as I am assigned to report to you: I would like to report my encounter and defeat of a Massassi Sith Lord. This is a troubling development as the Sith lord was there to stop the imperial intervention in the slave trade. I did not anticipate the Sith to be so active in the galaxy and this may be a worrying development of interest to the council. I have requested that the Sith Lord be put into Jedi Custody for transport before the council for judgement, but I am yet a guest of the Imperial Inquisition. And I do anticipate the possibility of the Inquisition taking the Sith into Imperial Custody instead for possible execution or exorcism. I eagerly and desperately await your decision and advice on the situation, I will be upon the Imperial Star Destroyer Misericordia over Nal Hutta receiving deep Bacta treatment for extensive injuries. Please let me know as soon as possible what your decision and advice regarding custody will be as well as your desire for my next mission. Thank you,

 

Jedi Knight Sarna”

 

Attached was a recording of the fight against the Sith taken from several angles from Imperial Scout cameras.

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Calix Meus Inebrians

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Blood pumped so furiously through her veins that her ears ached with the volume. Seconds stretched by into years, and somehow the galaxy shrank into slivers of matter. Jaina felt as though she were tumbling through time and space in a sub-reality that was utterly intangible and fundamentally central to all. Breaths like whispers slowed and it was as if she were outside herself, somewhere beyond.

 

Is this what Andon had meant? Beyond the galaxy, passed out of reach and farther out of known space than had ever been explored?

 

For just a whisper of a moment, as time hissed to a halt, beyond a cosmic veil, she could make out the silhouettes of several figures, held in the grip of eternity within the Force. It was as if the energy field itself had created a pocket, a sanctuary for those souls which could not become part of the whole. An otherworld, an eternal aether where they would traverse as ghosts in the waking world. Suspended between the stars, the doorway hung; an opaque and dusty mirror by which she could only make out shades of those she had loved. The Force deigned to construct a facsimile of the abstract reality she felt sure of: there was, in fact, a grey haven for those who would not yet slip into oneness with the Force. For those whose whisper was yet needed in the ears of their loved ones in the galaxy. Those directors and shapers who maintained balance in the galaxy, whose burden it was to carry, they could not disappear.

 

Not until their purpose had been fulfilled. A curtain of long hair cascaded from the head of a silhouette she recognized all too well, and as her hands reached, stretching across the infinite distance as though pleading with the Force to allow her to cross, she watched as the man's shadow enveloped a smaller figure in his arms, exuberantly clutching her to his chest.

 

A flash of green light propelled her back to her senses, her heartbeat catching up with the present, just in time for Emily's scream to ring out in her ears. Confusion seized her for a moment as to why her niece was so stricken. Then her soul seemed to catch up with her body and, with eyes swimming in tears, she exhaled slowly, a quiet and still reaction from a woman who had just lost the thing that mattered most to her in the galaxy.

 

A comforting touch across the distance reached to her, bearing the telltale signature of Skye Organa. So, it was not only the girl's soul that had gone missing. Tirzah was gone in earnest.

 

Perhaps they would not walk at peace yet, Tirzah and Andon, but if they were to be kept in that netherworld indefinitely, their togetherness could at least bring unearthly peace to Jaina's restless heart.

 

"We give what the Force wants us to give," she spoke aloud, but words kept forming in her heart faster than she could vocalize them, and with closed eyes she released them back into the Force, an oracle speaking truths into infinity, the Grey Goddess imparting a vision. We set everything down to keep it in order. The Force is light, and where souls have wrought darkness there is no comfort found within the Force after death. But there are some who build bridges. Some who walk the path that others can't, to make a way for those in darkness to walk to the light. There is no shame, no dishonor, no darkness inherent in this path. But there is no peace either. Those who fight for peace will never have peace, and their fight will be endless.

 

Finally, finally, she met Emily's eyes. "Andon knew the cost. John knew. Maybe I didn't know at first, but I sure as hell do now. This is no one's fault, Emily." An unconscionable amount of peace gushed from her aura to envelop the woman who was trying to bring her, the bereaved, comfort. "All your vengeance will do is dishonor the questions she asked and the light she understood. Maybe she'll find her way back someday. Maybe she won't. Who are you to decide, to take the will of the Force into your hands?"

 

There was no condemnation in her voice, but Jaina's tone allowed for no rejoinder. "The Cult needs to be stopped, but even destroying them won't bring back the child you lost. Vengeance won't bring Andon and Tirzah back. All we can do is keep breathing, keep moving forward, being emissaries of the Force the best way we know how."

 

The comm panel lit up, and Jaina wiped tears off her cheeks with the soft sleeve of her dark green robe. "And right now, that starts with dealing with the Order that I've left in shambles for far too long."

 

As she brought the comm to life and the battered form of the young Jedi she had met on Kashyyyk spoke of the Imperial siege on Nal Hutta, Jaina even entertained the possibility that the Sith had something to do with the misleading cue towards Nhagathul, in order to throw her off the scent of their larger workings in the galaxy. One thing was apparent: what was needed next was an update for the Jedi Council, absent Tobias' divisiveness, and hopefully some forward progress could be made in determining what to do next about the threat of the Sith advancement.

 

On the other hand, it was highly likely that she could gather useful information from Raynuk about plans and movements of the burgeoning Sith Empire. With the residual pain, grief, and loss rolling off of her in waves, she reached for the comfort of his presence that she had come to expect, but found there a shadowy darkness that was almost startling to her, given the warmth he had expressed to her directly. Whatever he claimed to be, he was as much entrenched in the status quo of the galaxy as she was. They both had responsibilities to their respective orders and it seemed as though the time in which the galaxy could tolerate any kind of union between the two of them was fast drawing to a close.

 

Quickly, she sent along a reply to the young Sarna and then turned back to Emily.

 

"Emily, I have a duty to you as my family, but I'm also on the Jedi Council. The Cult, the Sith, Nhagathul, I know it all has to be related. You don't have to come with me. You don't even have to decide right now what you'll do next. But Tirzah was my mission." Her eyes swam anew. "And I have a report to give. Will you come to Coruscant with me?"

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...why are the pretty ones always the most hazardous to your health?

May the Forth therve you well...

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Malin tensed the mangled bits of his leg and patted his thigh as the shuttle pulled away from Willy’s scrapyard. He looked listless out the shuttle viewport. The passengers muttered to themselves, keeping their minds to their own beleaguered affairs. The gruff smuggler, who looked even younger than he was, rubbed at the gritty stubble of his lower jaw and ground his back teeth as a splinter of pain crawled up his fresh khaki cargo pants.

 

Billiam thought that Malin needed a new look. And, despite Malin’s strange love for his bantha hide duster, Malin’s notable cliche outfit seemed a bit difficult to hide. And he needed to hide. However, his new outfit left something to be desired. His new hair, cropped short with a little left over to drape nicely, and matching beard, which was trimmed a lot shorter than he’d like, left his hands stroking his chin and head with anxious fervor.

 

The ship he has for me better be gorram sweet… This is demeaning.

 

The only saving grace to the whole affair was a cool looking fully articulated hip holster set for his DL-44’s. They matched the nice stylish leather jacket that the scrap owner loaned him. It wasn’t super fancy, but it wasn’t him. And that was the point.

 

Now, despite his misgivings, Malin was heading deep into the heart of the core to see a man about a leg. Malin winced, taking stock of his recent appearance changes and rubbing his chin yet again.

 

Feel free to contact me by Discord/PM/Email or, on Facebook

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Like a knife plunging into the heart of the Galactic Alliance the Black Sun warfleet emerged from hyperspace at the coordinates designated by Lord Exodus.

 

Delta sat at the helm of the Marie and triggered his comm.

 

Blood Prince calling Spider, forces assembled and ready for debrief. Mission capable starfighter unit designation IFF transponder yellow green. Caps are Blue on Blue. Sending over complete mission asset list now.”

 

A few keypad clicks later and the full assembled warfleet had been transported to the Sith register. He also noticed Qaela's shuttle. Which brought much joy to his hard heart.

 

Black Sun warfleet:

 

TOTAL AP: 11

The Marie

Ship Class: Corvette

Type: Corellian CR-90E Heavily Modified

Crew: 130

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 1 squadron ARC Fighter-bombers refitted, 1 Squadron of TIE Defenders 1000 Assault troops

Armaments: 5 turbolaser turrets, 4 point defense guns, Advanced sensor and jamming package

AP: 1

 

St. Cathryne

Ship Class: Cruiser

Type: MC30c

Crew: 900

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 4 squadron TIE Defenders, 2 K-Wing 3000 Assault troops

Armaments: 2 Heavy Assault MG1-A proton torpedo launchers, 16 Medium Turbolaser batteries, 16 twin laser cannon batteries, 6 cluster bomb launchers

AP: 3

 

Golden Dawn

Ship Class: Cruiser

Type: Victory II-class Star Destroyer

Crew: 6000

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 3 squadron K-wing, 3 RZ-1 A-wing interceptors 3000 Assault troops

Armaments: 10 quad turbolaser batteries, 20 turbolaser batteries, 20 Heavy Turbolaser Batteries, 10 Heavy ION cannons

Build date: 6/14/2009

AP: 3

 

The Red Hussar

Ship Class: Cruiser

Type: Victory II-class Star Destroyer

Crew: 6000

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 3 squadron K-wing, 3 RZ-1 A-wing interceptors 3000 Assault troops

Armaments: 10 quad turbolaser batteries, 20 turbolaser batteries, 20 Heavy Turbolaser Batteries, 10 Heavy ION cannons

AP: 3

 

Totenkopf

Ship Class: Corvette

Type: Agave-class picket ship

Crew: 50

Starfighter/Troop Complement: 2 RZ-1 A-wing interceptor squadrons 1000 Assault troops

Armaments: 4 turbolaser cannons divided into two batteries, 4 Point defense laser batteries and a Gravity Well projector.

AP: 1

 

11 Thousand total troops/mercenaries.

 

Total Starfighter Compliments:

1 Squadron ARC Fighter-bombers refitted

(Refit Loadout: 4 Proton Torpedos, 4 Diamond Boron missiles, 2 EMP/ION bombs slung on the wings, Heavy Sensor/Scope jammers)

5 Squadrons TIE Defenders

8 Squadrons K-wings

8 Squadrons A-Wings

Total PCs on board the Black Sun fleet:

 

Delta

Terra

Bolt

Rose Cariadus

Saint

Lysander

Borsk Zero-House

Zalis Krales

 

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Ca'Aran

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  • “Midwan.”

 

The word left his mouth and was heavily drenched in the hoarse sound of ancient Sith dialect. The pronunciation alone was not only heard aloud, but felt entirely, and with tremendous weight. The language was married to the dark side of the force, and when echoed by one such as Exodus, the sound of it would feel eerily tangible as it was spoken. The Dark Lord pointed out towards the viewport, and what he meant by power would now start to unfold before their very eyes.

 

Ghoulish warships washed in sinister black winked into the black of space that surrounded them. A massive star destroyer that dwarfed their position crooned loudly with the whispers of death, the mammoth vessel seemed to literally breath anguish and the metal skin it wore blushed with a molecular crimson. The Bleeding Kyber had arrived, followed by three powerful gunships painted in similar hues of hopelessness. The synchronization between these vessels wielded improved discipline in regards to non-combative manoeuvring, for these ships were not drawn from the backs of their allies, but were now truly of the Spider.

 

 

  • “It is right before your eyes, Krath. Look at what we’ve become in such little time. I will not allow our name to crawl again, into the wretched hole I had found it in. The Golden Age of the Sith is upon us now, and the weak will tremble where they stand.”

 

 

Lord Exodus, The Dark Emperor of the Sith Empire. This superior echelon would demand a much more grand presence. The reunification of the Sith under the Spider, had broken the chains of complacency that the Order had suffered from. All those in cowering, were now free to roam once more and gather under a new banner of strength. They did just that in droves. Umbara had manufactured a latent rally point for those that sought the knowledge of the Sith ideologies, and there they blossomed into engines of domination that they had once represented. All expeditions for the leader of them all would now become far more intricate, despite his preference to remain unseen. As his vision manifested, so too would his presence. There were now thousands and thousands that served his call, a burgeoning manpower that saw no end in sight. Masters and Lords of the Sith from all over, had pledged their allegiance to the infamous name of the Dark Lord and thus the conquest had begun. Auxiliary vessels from further Sith, as well as their sworn allies made their way ashore, driving their powerful ships in formations with the Sith Armada. Both Exodus and Sheog would witness the glory of this communion unfold across the blanket of space. The gathered prestige was impressive, and more would soon arrive.

 

 

====

 

Sith Empire Warfleet:

 

 

The Bleeding Kyber

Ship Class: Star Destroyer

Type: ISD-II

Crew: 9700, 303 gunners

Armaments:

50 Heavy Turbolaser Batteries (20 Forward, 15 Left, 15 Right)

50 Heavy Turbolaser Cannons (20 Forward, 10 Left, 10 Right, 10 Aft)

20 Ion Cannons (10 Forward, 5 Left, 5 Right)

8 Octuple barbette turbolaser

10 Tractor Beam Projectors (6 Forward, 2 Left, 2 Right)

 

Doomhandle

Ship Class: Corvette

Type: Warrior-Class Gunship

Crew: 44 Crew, 36 Gunners

Armaments:

10 Turbolaser Cannons

8 Laser Cannons

4 Concussion Missile Tubes

Antimissile Octets

 

Warspite

Ship Class: Corvette

Type: Warrior-Class Gunship

Crew: 44 Crew, 36 Gunners

Armaments:

10 Turbolaser Cannons

8 Laser Cannons

4 Concussion Missile Tubes

Antimissile Octets

 

 

Sunder

Ship Class: Corvette

Type: Warrior-Class Gunship

Crew: 44 Crew, 36 Gunners

Armaments:

10 Turbolaser Cannons

8 Laser Cannons

4 Concussion Missile Tubes

Antimissile Octets

 

 

Sith Attendance

 

Dark Lord Exodus (+ Retinue)

Master Sheog (+ Retinue)

Qaela Darksong

Telperien A.

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Delta typed away at his control panel as he recieved the updated mission details from the Spider.

 

With a blink, his HUD systems brought up the threat assessment as well as the combat prowess of the recruited mercenary units from Tatooine. One name was highlighted and with several keystrokes he typed up a mission outline for the female mandalorian. Passing it to Red Dawn commander Katerina, she escorted it to Saint.

 

The heavily armoured knight approached the Mandalorian and saluting handed her the datacard with mission specs and granting overall command of the recruited mercenaries. Commander Katerina also wore heavily layered Mandalorian armour, and had been one of the first agents to serve under the Blood Prince. She was the first of his retinue of secret Red Dawn body guards and one of the premier Uriel squadron pilots. She had served black sun for nearly a decade since being hired by Mindian. The best of the best and her stance and demeanor reflected it.

 

“Here Saint. Mission details included. Have a good day and a safe mission, we will see you in the air.”

 

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Ca'Aran

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Jaina's reaction astonished Emily. Her aunt didn't deny her heartbreak, but instead of raging against it, she accepted it and strove to move on. And in turn reached and tried to comfort Emily.

 

It was unthinkable to the Grey Master. She had paid again and again and again, but she had never stopped fighting against that price. To just...accept it? To move on when something so dear had been taken away?

 

Deep down, part of Emily knew that there was nothing she could do to prevent the Force from taking more from her. She had never been able to in the past, and no matter how powerful she grew, she knew the Force didn't work in a way where you could make it do or not do something. That, after all, was the folly of the Sith. So maybe there was wisdom in the sort of acceptance Jaina was displaying. But on the other hand, didn't that...sense of disconnect mean that one would have to view everything in one's life like that? To always hold oneself at a distance, to never allow oneself to get too attached in case the Force demanded it from you? In Emily's mind, that, too, was wrong.

 

Jaina finally met her eyes. Emily looked back. "Haven't we paid enough?" she asked rawly. "It's always one more thing. When will it ever end? When will we finally have peace?" She paused. "Sometimes having the Force feels more like a curse than anything else."

 

Jaina's words about vengeance caused her to slowly nod. "I...respect that." But letting go of her own desire for vengeance was too much. If she let go of that, what would she have left to live for? She'd have no reason to exist.

 

Realization swept over her as Jaina turned away to send a comm, leaving her momentarily trembling. No reason to exist...for so long she had judged her mother for giving up, for ending her own existence. She had come to terms with it, but never thought a place would exist that was so dark and empty that death would be a release. But now, her own price had climbed so high that she finally understood. In losing John, Sirvani had paid her price and it had been enough to cause her to give up everything else. Emily had paid and kept paying. Perhaps that meant that she was stronger than her mother had been. Perhaps Sirvani's true weakness had been that she wasn't strong enough to face more loss. And really, Emily couldn't fault her for that.

 

With effort, she attempted to push the thought away. Now wasn't the time. Jaina had turned back around and was asking Emily to accompany her to Coruscant. For a moment, Emily vacillated. From a logical standpoint, it made sense. The Cult had access to Jedi planets too, and Emily and Jaina were the perfect link to investigate those connections. But part of her wondered, in light of what had just happened, that if she grew closer to her aunt, she'd simply be putting Jaina's head on the chopping block of the Force.

 

But then Andon's face swam in front of her eyes, and she knew that if she didn't go with Jaina now, she'd regret it, no matter the outcome. So she bit her lip and nodded. "Yes. I'll help you. We will stop them together."

Emily%202015_zps34rpkjob.jpg

 

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

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*Chrip Ding *Chrip Ding

 

Lysander awoke to the sound of his alarm, head throbbed from a migraine. He rolled to his side and eyed up his puke bucket, his newest friend since leaving Onderon. It had been a rough time since then and it wasn’t until now did Lysander begin to feel back to 100%. He felt a sting of regret for missing out on the invasion of Tatooine but knew he would have been a liability. Lysander found the strength to sit up and cursed himself of moving the alarm to the otherside of the room.

 

Turning the alarm off Lysander shuffled around his ship to look for water and more meds. After downing both, Lysander tried to remember what Black Sun Ship he was docked in. For the life of him, he could not recall as it had all been a blur. With the shake of his head he decided it didn’t matter much where we was, just where we was going. Lysander went back to bed and grabbed his data pad. The pain of the migraine began to subside for now and he reviewed the details of the mission Delta had given him. After review of the mission he decided to change out his normal weapon loadout, changing out his Stave for a DLT-19 and E-11. “Ain’t no way I’m getting up close in this one” He said to himself.

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The Mad Hutt’s crimson gaze gleamed with pride as he watched the fleet assemble, his amphibian eyes seldom wandering from the figure of The Bleeding Kyber. Even across the vast emptiness of space he could feel the mixture of Krath magic and darkmetal calling to him, its voice wicked as it crawled through his skull. It met his desires and begged for sustenance, for souls to be harvested for reciprocal rise in power. This corrupted Star Destroyer would be the centerpoint, the beating heart of the Sith fleet. The center of the web, to which all prey was drawn and devoured.

 

<>

 

The overlarge Hutt turned his face to the Dark Lord of the Sith, and inclined it in respect.

 

<>

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King Kheldar vos Correlli said:
Sheog, I have to ask, overkill much?
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Terra slipped towards the main control room of The Marie, feeling metal’s cold caress upon her bare feet. There was a mix of freedom and nakedness that came with her unarmoured state. The ripped tunics barely concealed her lithe frame, and gave her the appearance of a waif, instead of the accoutrements of an assassin and warchief of the Deathwatch. She looked up at the guards that kept the doors to the control room barricaded for the safety of the command staff, and stepped through them.

 

A crushgaunt tossed her down the hallway, where she sprawled against a bulkhead, before falling to the decking. She let out a low hiss as she glared lightsabers at the guards, former WingGuard off Bespin. A rising tide of rage passed through her gut, her mouth turning sour. She clenched her jaw and rose to her feet, brushing the wrinkles from her tattered tunic

 

“No whores while Delta has business. Especially dressed like that.”

 

The other guard leered at her, a derisive sneer contorting his bearded face

 

“Today is Twi’lek Tuesday, not Beggar Sunday. Either grow some brain tentacles or get out.”

 

The WingGuard leaned to the other, with a coarse whisper

 

“Think the urchin is… Um.”

 

“No no Fasbe, we check all their datacards. They are always of age”

 

“I meant pregnant.”

 

Terra rolled her greysteel eyes, and spoke slowly through grinding teeth

 

“Agent Terra, Piccolo's Titan Protocol, Authorization Code… 88EVE32.”

The locked door behind them whooshed open, and an old jingle began to play to announce her arrival. Terra sighed and pushed through them, to the bridge of the Marie. The azure glow of the holomap display drew her eyes to the armoured figure of her oldest friend. He leaned over the map, reading a stream of tactical data, dressed in ebony armour reminescent of the clone commando he once was, highlighted in crimson. Her small voice was barely audible over the various chatter of the bridge crew

 

“Kayal would have loved to see this array of power.”

 

She wondered if her would even recognize her, a shadow of her former self. Emaciated and lean, dirty and unarmoured. Scarred and tattooed no longer.

 

“Good to see you old friend.”

Terra

To the Death...

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Borsk wandered the halls of The Marie, which was apparently some kind of famous ship, or something. Its appearance reminded the Trandoshan of his former ship, now lost forever in the darkenss of a long abandoned world, a memoir of a hunt ended by betrayal. He shook his head, trying to get rid of the hangover from the bar, with negative affects, intoxication stronger then his will. He shoved his way past or through some of the crew, avoiding the more veteran members and those whose squad he had been appointed to. He had been told the weapons bay was nearby, but on the packed and unfamiliar ship it was proving difficult to his addled mind. He finally resorted to sticking his head in each door he passed, a running commentary he had done many times in his earlier days passing through his mind.

 

"A room, laserbrain left out a credit chit. Hope some greedy merc steals it, would serve him right. Thats enginnering, nothing in there for me. Are those skulls? Seems useful for this area. ummmmmm, Hello ladies, looking fine... thats a excellent boot there, nice contours.. Shavit, that kriffing hurt. Wasn't doing them any harm, they should have locked that door. Blasting packs, don't mind if I do, hope whoever left these doesn't mind me taking them. Are those dead bodies in a tub? Bet killing them was fun."

 

Borsk stopped, having entered a room filled with some of the many trophies of the ships owner. His normal brash attitude calmed slightly, looking over the items with a measure of respect. He growled softly in his native Dost, "A master hunter. High would you be on the Scorekeepers list. Perhaps one day I shall reach that height, if this accursed sword doesn't kill me first."

 

The Trandoshan left the room, continuing to explore the strange ship as they hurtled through space, his foremost thought repeating almost constantly through his head, "The Kriff is that?"

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Holomaps were beautiful things, the swirling pixelated star systems connected by glowing hyperlanes and little popups of natural disasters or military buildup causing a slow tidal wave of red markers to cover the galactic scale map. He loved it, war was afoot, and Black Sun was in the thick of it. War brought in massive profits, and the transition of spice hubs from Nar Shaddaa to Tatooine and Bespin was incredibly helpful to the accounts which had been stretched thin by the acquisition of the two victories. It would be a while before they could mount another exposition like this but he was happy for it. Showing off to the Sith Lords as well as opening up some lucrative and illicit trade opportunities he could not pass up on.

 

Next conquest would be for the Black Sun and the Black Sun alone.

 

A commotion at the door brought the Clone Commando’s head up and he saw a face that he had not seen in what felt like an age.

 

“TerraBear! Look at you, all walking in here unannounced and shit. I am solidifying a plan for the invasion. Wait here while my tailor fits you for something not so skimpy. I cannot be seen with young ill dressed girls in this political climate. Before you know it they’ll say that I the mass murderer, feller of Alderaani Towers, Naboo genocider, and business entrepreneur have sexually harassed a minor! Can’t have that now can we. I'm not selling sandwiches am I?”

 

Which a snap of his fingers a half dozen very young twilek girls in less clothes than Terra swarmed the girl and outfitted her with some repurposed Kal’Koran Beskar’gam. Because why not.

 

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Ca'Aran

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