Jump to content

Nar Shaddaa - Rebel Alliance Headquarters


Raven Nasra
 Share

Recommended Posts

Amongst the bustle of the city-sphere, Frond moved like a foreign dignitary amongst it all. He seemed to glide, aloof and unbothered by the masses that teamed all about them, and in his wake, the Jedi-Sith Scorpio had chosen to accompany him. Amongst the citadel that comprised the Rebel-Jedi-Imperial Remnant garrison, a second world existed within the squalid waste that had accompanied the press of refugees. Here, there was a glimmer of something more. Hope. It hung faintly in the afternoon air as it mingled with the smells of dozens of meals being prepped from all cultures and corners of the galaxy.

 

Through it, Frond moved, his head ducked and shoulders stooped; his glossy black foliage a cloak about his gnarled and twisted form. Any worldly possession he might be carrying were contained within enclosed knots on his body. The Mind Walker did not even know where he was going, drawn by the growing sprouts of the force itself. He followed their viney invisible growths unsure where they might take him. He had been drawn to this world, and to Scorpio, and now they were in waiting.

 

They did not beed to wait long; however, as a solid thud brought the striding tree-being to a stop. He had been jostled. He had been bumped. He had even been brushed against. This was different. Frond paused. Slowly he turned, an awkwardly friendly old man-esque smile twisting across his wrinkled wooden face as he heard the men’s back and forth. The Neti’s eyes twinkled.

 

Frond recognized the men as clones; soldiers of a bygone era and copies of the dark destroyer who rendered worlds. He eyed them for but a moment as his attention was inevitably drawn to the coffin that trailed along with them. The force still radiated like the last vestiges of warmth leaving a dead body. Cocking his head to the side in a birdlime fashion, the Neti raised an eyebrow. “Like a river pure,” he spoke as he his eyes turned back to @Tilt07, “the last drops flowing freely,” he waved his gnarled hand and vine-musclebound arm to the encased body, ”pure Jensaarai truth.” He spoke the man’s affiliation, having trained alongside many of his kind in his time Beyond Shadows. Each acolyte of the different force paths presented themselves differently on the meandering galaxy-engulfing tangled rooted mass of the force; unique, yet bound together. Frond stood for an awkwardly long moment regarding the body, taking in the aura of the fallen warrior with a respect only feasible from one who had seen the horrors of the cosmos and understood the desire to protect their small corner of it. An aura of sadness passed over the ancient sage’s face before passing like a shadow. Death was nothing to the force; but as a living being, detached as he was, the tree-being still could feel the loss in his soul.

 

Slowly, Frond blinked, breaking the seeming moment of silence amidst the bustle around them. His composure returned, a stoic aura of calm peace. He turned back to Tilt, Riggs, and Thumper. “Warriors of yore, carrying weapons for peace, stand, protect, with us?” He queried slowly; his own words conveying his invitation to the trio to join he and @MSA‘s Scorpio. Frond reached out and his twisted fingers encircled Tilt’s shoulder plate and squeezed, tightly, like only the press of plant growth can do. “Brothers bound in blood.” He gingerly reached another hand to brush a twiggy finger across the other two troopers’ chest plates as the force rustled like a breeze through his cloak of leaves that grew from his body sending a spark of warm ancient energy from the aged tree to each of them as a way of unspoken comradeship. “Let us feast as victors now,” he slowly offered by way of suggesting the group find a meal somewhere in the teaming towering fortifications.

 

”A strand of three cords,” his voice trailed off as he uttered the line of the common phrase gesturing for another to lead their way as he would fall in behind with a warmth that seemed to radiate from his every pore.

  • Like 1
XQ19Jfm.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Mild irritation at the tight space gave way to mild panic at Misal's outburst, followed by Sandy's command. He even tapped into the Force to sustain himself as his muscles began to burn under the strain, but in moments they were out of the shaft. Aidan did his best to control his emotions, but deep down beneath the mental conditioning there was an alarm ringing like a fog horn in mist. He was certainly not used to seeing his grandmother like this, and it was all he could do to not allow the anxiety to consume him in the moment. And as it stood, Sandy had the best and most pertinent question and Aidan didn't want to risk his voice cracking.

 

So he simply stayed silent, waiting for Misal's answer.

  • Like 1

fuckmeIwannastop.png.f6b3c407fbf3e64619d8058b21303934.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

She let her eyes wander over his extensive sketch of the proposed blade. It would be an interesting design, not something that she had seen before in her time as a Jedi Knight, but she had seen some Jedi and Imperial Knights use varied weaponry in the form of lightsabers. The famed Imperial Knight Kyrie had used a lightspear to great effect in the defense of  Corellia. Laying low one of the Sith Emperor’s vanguard in single combat. A fight that was still much discussed even a year later. A fight that Vox himself had fought and nearly died at. 

 

She nodded slowly.

 

“Then if the queen does not possess such a thing, then we must find one ourselves. Yavin I know has green gems suspended in its lower gas clouds.”

  • Like 3

14365472_Alcmne.png.bfda32e929e4ce0bf873f82d453f414b.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

((Misal post for @Aidan Darkfireand @Sandy Sarna))

 

After her body was physically hauled away from the crawlspace, It took a few seconds for Misal to just breathe and try to restore some degree of rationality to her countenance. Warm, humid air was causing her to sweat–and the air current across the Miraluka’s pale, age-wrought face revealed that her veil had been left behind in the crawlspace. Even having left that cramped, oily tunnel behind and forcibly yanked her datapad out of the network of the Imperial Knights’ barracks, the sense of imminent danger lingered.

 

The whining-roar of a pair of speeder bikes echoed over and over through the tunnels. Judging from the pitch of the whine and sudden doppler shift of the engines, the two speeders must have been racing almost at full-throttle. That was stupid… and gutsy.

 

The reminder that unidentified threats potentially lurked within these tunnels was sufficient to drive the veteran infiltrator out of this rare moment of panic. Her breath slowed and she gripped Sarna’s knee in gratitude. Her fingers were like steel talons under the gloves, if talons could be described as quivering with exertion and fear. The risk of sudden violence seemed negligible–those two speeder bikes, almost certainly a military model at that, had already passed on and were no more than echoes. A distant, regrettable future, perhaps–it was always possible that her intrusion had been detected, that years of practicing upon the Jedi Order and less diligent organizations had softened her skills. However, the danger felt more abstract, like an unwelcome, anxious needling from The Force

 

“I sensed disaster.” The wrinkles where the Miraluka’s eyes would have rested tightened in a wince. “That I had just made a cruel mistake.” Misal leaned her head back against the damp wall and felt warm dampness.

 

“Sarna, I’ve been a hypocrite. I pressed forward with this mission despite you,” she jerked her head towards Aidan. “Having been released by the Imperial Knights. It was no longer necessary, but I persisted in downloading your personnel files. They contain… much. Service records, commendations, disciplinary records, psychological dossier. Same for that Vorsha assigned to detain you. Perhaps that would have been useful earlier… now an egregious violation of your privacy. Destroy them if you wish.”

 

She slid the datapad and SCOMP-link over to Aidan, the port rattling hollowly against the rivets of the walkway. Her voice took an odd inflection, her pitch monotone almost like that of a cheap droid and her cadence labored and deliberate. “I would… prefer… not to spend… my last days with my grandson enraged at me.”

 

  • Like 2

drayyy.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Beck sat behind a desk, now giving his full attention to the file at hand, which was the report from the training session he ran, along with a datapad to assign such new recruits and initiates to squads and commands. Captain Isiah walked in and handed him a cup of hot liquid. "Going over the assignments sir?" Beck took the cup and looked at it for a second before setting it down. "Yes, but we need to hit a pause on letting new recruits in until after the evacuation is complete. We don't want to lose anyone in our process... what did you hand me?" The Admiral leaned into the drink and gave it a whiff with his nose. The Captain looked confused for a moment. "Oh, I'm sorry. The caf station is down. I brought tea instead. It's called Kyurlec tea. Leaves from Kashyyyk and Thyferra. One of the many new lines that Czerka is attempting to push." Beck looked at his captain with a face that held eyebrows narrowed, yet eyes wide and nose scrunched. "I'd slap you for that if I thought you were lying." He then brought the cup to his lips and sipped a small taste of it. The strange sweetness against the tiniest bitterness seemed to surprise him. 

 

"Damn that woman Zalis. Her hand is in everything." Captain Isiah sat down on the opposite side of the desk of his commander. "Yeah, unfortunately she's taken Black Sun under the radar recently and pushed Czerka, who is now backed and protected by the business bureau. We now need something hard tying her to Black Sun in order to do anything against her." Beck looked at Isiah for a moment as he sipped the tea again. While he personally didn't care how much it cost or whatever backlash came for making a move to get her, he understood why others did. "She's a cunning woman. She knows how to play the game, and does she ever play it well. She's not worth it right now. For now, let's put our focus on assigning everyone out." 

 

"We have a total of two spots left on roster space, but other commands are currently not taking anyone on at the moment. From this past grouping, most did fairly well and even pushed the limits. I think that we have room for Allidar Sowephil and Tenbar Moopas. Carson and Quin are both out, along with the others. Assign them back to civilian life. Give them both an extra four weeks for reapplication and another two weeks to be picked up by another command if another decides that they want them." Beck finished typing things into his datapad and then handed it over to Isiah. "I can have everything logged with this within two hours. Orders for our command then?" He raised his eyebrow. "Evacuation. Every soldier not assigned to something specific already NEEDS to be on evacuation. To the brig with anyone not complying. That's all. I will be out helping within the hour as well. No officer is off limits to those orders either since I will be helping."

  • Like 1
New_Beck.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Though Sandy was not horrified in the slightest by the site of the pale and empty sockets. She knew that revealing them would be of some embarrassment to Misa, but there was always a solution at hand. With deft fingers she grasped the hem of her light green tunic. She tore it from one end of the seam to the other, so that she held a long strip of clean soft fabric that she gently pressed into Misal’s hand. Sandy did not know if it was because of modesty that the Miraluka wore coverings over their eyes, or a longstanding vain tradition. But she would let the woman cover herself if she needed to. 

 

But there was something more concerning. The old woman spoke in such fatalistic tones, that she was worried that she could fall quickly into shock. She kept a grin on her face and crouched beside Misal. The Mission, as much as a failure as it may have been, was no longer important.

 

“Are you alright?” 

 

The sound of speeder bikes roared again overhead and Sandy tighten her own grip on the woman's upper arm. 

 

“Can you stand?” 

  • Like 1

senay.png.2f049a5f093fee4ce31600cce37c9cbb.png

Calix Meus Inebrians

Link to comment
Share on other sites

On 1/6/2022 at 9:24 PM, Frond said:

Amongst the bustle of the city-sphere, Frond moved like a foreign dignitary amongst it all. He seemed to glide, aloof and unbothered by the masses that teamed all about them, and in his wake, the Jedi-Sith Scorpio had chosen to accompany him. Amongst the citadel that comprised the Rebel-Jedi-Imperial Remnant garrison, a second world existed within the squalid waste that had accompanied the press of refugees. Here, there was a glimmer of something more. Hope. It hung faintly in the afternoon air as it mingled with the smells of dozens of meals being prepped from all cultures and corners of the galaxy.

 

Through it, Frond moved, his head ducked and shoulders stooped; his glossy black foliage a cloak about his gnarled and twisted form. Any worldly possession he might be carrying were contained within enclosed knots on his body. The Mind Walker did not even know where he was going, drawn by the growing sprouts of the force itself. He followed their viney invisible growths unsure where they might take him. He had been drawn to this world, and to Scorpio, and now they were in waiting.

 

They did not beed to wait long; however, as a solid thud brought the striding tree-being to a stop. He had been jostled. He had been bumped. He had even been brushed against. This was different. Frond paused. Slowly he turned, an awkwardly friendly old man-esque smile twisting across his wrinkled wooden face as he heard the men’s back and forth. The Neti’s eyes twinkled.

 

Frond recognized the men as clones; soldiers of a bygone era and copies of the dark destroyer who rendered worlds. He eyed them for but a moment as his attention was inevitably drawn to the coffin that trailed along with them. The force still radiated like the last vestiges of warmth leaving a dead body. Cocking his head to the side in a birdlime fashion, the Neti raised an eyebrow. “Like a river pure,” he spoke as he his eyes turned back to @Tilt07, “the last drops flowing freely,” he waved his gnarled hand and vine-musclebound arm to the encased body, ”pure Jensaarai truth.” He spoke the man’s affiliation, having trained alongside many of his kind in his time Beyond Shadows. Each acolyte of the different force paths presented themselves differently on the meandering galaxy-engulfing tangled rooted mass of the force; unique, yet bound together. Frond stood for an awkwardly long moment regarding the body, taking in the aura of the fallen warrior with a respect only feasible from one who had seen the horrors of the cosmos and understood the desire to protect their small corner of it. An aura of sadness passed over the ancient sage’s face before passing like a shadow. Death was nothing to the force; but as a living being, detached as he was, the tree-being still could feel the loss in his soul.

 

Slowly, Frond blinked, breaking the seeming moment of silence amidst the bustle around them. His composure returned, a stoic aura of calm peace. He turned back to Tilt, Riggs, and Thumper. “Warriors of yore, carrying weapons for peace, stand, protect, with us?” He queried slowly; his own words conveying his invitation to the trio to join he and @MSA‘s Scorpio. Frond reached out and his twisted fingers encircled Tilt’s shoulder plate and squeezed, tightly, like only the press of plant growth can do. “Brothers bound in blood.” He gingerly reached another hand to brush a twiggy finger across the other two troopers’ chest plates as the force rustled like a breeze through his cloak of leaves that grew from his body sending a spark of warm ancient energy from the aged tree to each of them as a way of unspoken comradeship. “Let us feast as victors now,” he slowly offered by way of suggesting the group find a meal somewhere in the teaming towering fortifications.

 

”A strand of three cords,” his voice trailed off as he uttered the line of the common phrase gesturing for another to lead their way as he would fall in behind with a warmth that seemed to radiate from his every pore.

 

The trio stood there listening to the tree man, while Tilt and Thunder understood him well, Riggs furrowed his brows. His gesture to Pryf was one of understanding and kindness, perhaps another Jedi? There was Jedi  Master Yoda at one point and of course a variety of other species as Jedi so it shouldn't be much a surprise. However Tilt was still surprised that the creature spoke decent common but Tilt didn't bother to complement it- Him, despite individuals ancient and natural appearance. 

 

When the pressure was applied to his shoulder, though it was a simple grasp upon his shoulder armor it didn't bother Tilt one bit neither did it Thumper. Riggs however was trying to brush away the limb that was brushing against his chest piece, finding it weird and disturbing that the tree man's body extended in such a way. The leader of the trio ignored the discomfort of his brother, and said, " Very well then, we can join you for a bit." 

 

It was then he could feel the tinge of energy, a warmth that Tilt could only describe as like being wrapped in a blanket, calming warmth his body welcomed. The being then said for them to feast as victors, a strand of three chords, immediately Tilt took the hint and said to his comrades, taking the lead ahead of the tree man, "Alright boys, I hope you still ain't full on jerky, we're hitting up a restaurant. Once we drop off the body that is." 

 

There was an audible, "Alllright!" Coming from Riggs himself, punching Thumper in the arm more or less as a happy act. As the group walks, Tilt asks, "Didn't catch your name, tall-man. Name's Tilt, those two goobers are Riggs and Thunder. Say, you know anyone who deal can help give our friend a burial around here?"

Edited by Tilt07
  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

On 1/11/2022 at 2:00 PM, Alcmène said:

She let her eyes wander over his extensive sketch of the proposed blade. It would be an interesting design, not something that she had seen before in her time as a Jedi Knight, but she had seen some Jedi and Imperial Knights use varied weaponry in the form of lightsabers. The famed Imperial Knight Kyrie had used a lightspear to great effect in the defense of  Corellia. Laying low one of the Sith Emperor’s vanguard in single combat. A fight that was still much discussed even a year later. A fight that Vox himself had fought and nearly died at. 

 

She nodded slowly.

 

“Then if the queen does not possess such a thing, then we must find one ourselves. Yavin I know has green gems suspended in its lower gas clouds.”

 

Vox finished his saber design, a unique in that it's colors were black and bronze but held a natural look about it as if hewn from wood. The hilt was elongated to where it easily allowed for two handed use while still have extra space to work with, the weapons handle was mainly black with every other piece being dark bronze; the accents and color of the various interconnected symbols were colored as brown to help keep it's natural look. For Vox even though his drawing was acceptable at some level this was new, he'd never planned on building a literal saber, however he paused and thought for a good moment. He paused due to little insight as to how to build a new weapon, this wasn't like forging a new sword, this had many pieces to it. 

 

"Yes, we will go then. Once I have built my saber we will get a crystal from this Yaven. Until then... I might need assistance in building my new tool. I'm not familiar with putting together these lightsabers." Vox said, not too proud he's asking hell to build a new weapon, something most of his tribespeople knew... Most being the key word. 

voxpopuli.png.f80f68e125067e4949ab35e17a997bbd.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"..enraged ..."

 

Aidan snapped from his shock at the word, though it still took a few more seconds for him to process everything.

 

"Whoah. Whoah, hold up. Gramma, I have never been enraged at you. Frustrated at a lack of privacy at times, sure, but I want to make it clear how much of a positive impact you've had on me. I never would have been brave without you. I knew you were always watching me, and I'm pretty sure you knew that at times too. I ran away to the space lanes because I knew if anything bad happened, something worse was waiting for it in the shadows. I'm the man I am today in a large part because of you. I may have learned a lot of my lessons the hard way, but I'd say I still turned out pretty okay, and I like who I am."

He moved to help Sandy, and to help physically brace Misal, if necessary. The datapad was swiftly tucked away, right now it was the last thing on Aidan's mind. It could be addressed later, ...accessed later. Aidan was curious about this Vorsha character. But first, Misal.

 

"Besides, it almost would be weird at this point to not expect it. I know you only have my best interests at heart. I've thought of you as my personal guardian angel for quite a while, gramma."

  • Like 1

fuckmeIwannastop.png.f6b3c407fbf3e64619d8058b21303934.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Frond followed along with the others. All about them, the world bustled. Gesturing towards a jagged alley, Frond stopped the group, placing his hand atop the casket bearing anti-grav sled.

 

Inhaling deeply, Frond’s fronds quivered as his mind delved deeply transcending ancient plains and expanding out upon the force itself. It was the closest that the tree felt to being real. Not this physical mess that they pretended mattered. Then he spoke, his voice carried softly and deeply. “This world feels solid,” he stamped his rooted splayed foot on the ground, “the wind, the force, blows as truth.” He patted the coffin/crate containing the body of the clones’ fallen force-using comrade, “Jensaarai follow the truth, guided by the unseen power, hidden in plain sight, so too shall be death.”

 

Taking the lead, Frond led the group down the shadowy winding path until they came to a grungy shop with a squeaking sign covered in grime and blackened dirt. Barely discernible  beneath the years of wear and grime were the aurabesh letters for BLACKSMITH. With a push of a button, the door swooshed open with an uncharacteristically concerning rattle. The inside was equal to, if not worse than the sign. Everything was covered in dirt, dust, grease, and grime. It was practically impossible to even step inside without getting covered.

 

The place was deserted and the forge, well-stocked, was cold. A myriad of armors and medieval-styled vibro weapons hung on the walls above a workbench of intricate bits of wiring and tools.

 

Stepping to the forge, Frond, wiped a layer of grease from the red starter button. “Freedom in the flame.” Frond gestured to the clones bidding them load their fallen friend’s body into the empty forge. “Carried on the winds of truth, reborn in the force.” All they needed to do was place the Jensaarai in the forge. With the push of a button, it would be ignited and his body rapidly dried, scorched and burned to ash. A forge that could liquify Mandalorian iron would easily disintegrate the body of the Duros; with time for anyone to say words should they so desire. Otherwise, Frond would stand in silence watching the flames lick at the fallen force user, releasing his true inner being. 

XQ19Jfm.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

((For @Aidan Darkfireand @Sandy Sarna))

 

Hundreds of meters above her son, Armiena Draygo waited anxiously mere meters from the entrance to the Red and Black’s freight turbolifts. All of the Imperial Scouts had been dispatched and were making progress through the undercity of Nar Shaddaa, but invariably, every single homing beacon had gone dark and their transmissions turned to static. That was to be expected; their trackers would have had difficulty penetrating so many layers of duracrete and steel–and besides, their armor’s systems would have recorded their reconnaissance in the absence of a comms signal. 

 

It was unproductive worrying, but her senses had picked up on a spark of panic that she felt would demand her personal attention. Nonetheless, the Jedi Grandmaster watched nervously as the tide of soldiers shifted from scout troopers to military police and munitions. Later, some of the front-line units would begin their descent into the undercity, where they could evacuate from Nar Shaddaa safely and unseen.

 

______

 

For a couple of seconds, the elderly Miraluka offered no audible response. Her teeth bared in a strange hybrid of a grin and an unrealized sob, and her chest rose and fell in what could have easily been mirth or misery. Indeed, even the woman’s Force-presence was tinged in a riotous complex of emotion. The spasmodic display continued until the woman sneezed noisily and wetly into her sleeve, then her expression tightened in a grimace of pain.

 

“Ah.” She pressed gently on her hip. “Thank you. It would have been difficult to have spoken more sweetly than that, Aidan. I’ve often wondered what possibilities may have arisen if… we had made different choices. For what my opinion is worth, you’ve become a man worth being proud of.

 

Misal accepted the helping hands to her feet and gradually placed weight on her healing hip. It complained and her heart was continuing to pound vociferously at the exertions in the field, but she at least was able to move. “I can walk. But I think slowly would be best. If I listen very closely, I can already hear your Healers nagging at my having overexerted myself.”

 

  • Like 2

drayyy.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Kirlocca stood still for a moment, lingering within the moment before him. Many of the others present in the room seemed to have died down and left for some other purpose or another. When it was calm enough, the Wookiee turned towards Raven and offered up a smile, along with opening his arms towards her to allow for her to take the embrace if she felt comfortable enough to do so within the room. 

 

<< You have quite the assembly here. I've always known you had the right stuff to lead. But I sense something stirring deep down within you... >> 

 

He let his words hang. He honestly couldn't feel what was stirring within her, only that something was. He wanted her to tell him instead of him prying it out. He trusted her judgement regardless, even if she decided not to tell him. 

  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

As the room began to filter out she slowly edged herself away from the two Imperial Knights who always accompanied her and towards Kirlocca. With every step she could feel some of the stress at the back of her neck start to peel away, and as the last of the higher echelon of the Imperial families made their farewell as was close enough to hug him. Which she promptly did. Embracing him with a firm and loving hug that finally killed the last of the stress that was needling her. He felt so warm, and his fur was so soft, that she almost didn't notice the embarrassed looks from her guard who were gently ushering the queen of Naboo from the room. She ignored them and finally broke off the hug with a smile. 

 

“I missed you.” She whispered. Letting the last vestiges of her stern and Empress-like facade drop away.  “Thank you for coming and reassuring us, that was very kind.” She sighed and let herself lean back against the edge of the table. “As for what is stirring? I don’t know myself, worry? Tiredness? Love?” She looked up into the black eyes of the Wookiee. “What can you feel?” 

  • Like 1

Raven_3_Sig.png.fa6e284bec4ff42ba02901e8567b2f87.png

Pretender to the Galactic Throne

Leader of the Rebel Alliance

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Sensing the meeting was drawing to a close, Kolchak eyed the towering furres Jedi and Empress for a moment. Taking in the scene, his cybernetic enhanced mind already began to process it from multiple angles. Offering a crisp salute, the Admiral turned, immediately surrounded by his escorts, and they left the room. There was much to be done. The intelligence community was abuzz and Imperial forces were already in full drive to prevent wanton loss of life.

 

Making his way towards his shuttle, Kolchak was joined by several others, both Imperial uniform clad commanders and much less professional-looking sleezy intelligence assets. Just as quickly, orders were issued and the entourage peeled away on their respective tasks. Some would make sure transports to waiting evacuation transports was opened, others were securing intelligence files and weapon caches about the moon, and still others were ensuring that classified stations were shut down as per Imperial protocols. Families of far-flung and lost assets were given first priority aboard the Naval Intelligence transports. Those who served, were rewarded.

 

Reaching his own transport, Kolchak paused. There was no sense leaving without a full load. An crisp black clad Stormtrooper commander approached and handed the Vice Admiral a clipboard containing the names of multiple recently discovered clone soldiers. Taking the dossier, Nikolai began to read.

kol2.png.1d12933059e161bb1d4824942dd151d8.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Sandy, a counselor with no little knowledge of the healing arts let a grim smile flash across her face. She reached out with the force and let her mind touch the wounds, the exhausted muscles, and let the warmth of the force flood into them. The first stage of healing, giving old flesh the motivation to knit itself back together. Nudging it along with the force. She steadied the woman and made sure her arm was properly supported as they began their walk back. 

 

It was time for silence, time for her to work on the physical wounds, while Aidan did his work with the emotional ones.

  • Like 1

senay.png.2f049a5f093fee4ce31600cce37c9cbb.png

Calix Meus Inebrians

Link to comment
Share on other sites

“This is an opportunity to use the force, to let it guide the construction. You see It flows through everything, even the metal and the circuitry, but I think we will not know how to make the proper measurements and constructions without first acquiring the gem!” 

 

She put her hand onto his shoulder. 

 

“We can take my family's shuttle if you need. It’s properly equipped for deep space exploration, so surely it can survive in the gas giant. Grab what you need, the sheet metal, batteries, lenses, emitters in that box there, wiring, and that small tool kit.” 

 

She grinned and picked up her bags and the shield lattice.

 

“See you at the shuttle bay?” 

14365472_Alcmne.png.bfda32e929e4ce0bf873f82d453f414b.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

There is no emotion, there is peace. 

 

Cassius read the lines of the Jedi code over and over again as his ship made its way through the seemingly infinite blackness of space towards Nar Shaddaa. For the first time since he was a child he had left Felucia. A lifetime spent training was now finally beginning to pay off, or so it seemed, as he still had to prove that he was worthy of being a Jedi Padawan. It had been made very clear to him that just because he was given a chance to train under a Master, it did not mean he would be kept as a Padawan, and that he would have to prove that he was capable of earning the title. This was no different to him than his entire life had been up to this point. It was an uphill battle, one that had no end in sight, and yet he continued up that hill with a determination that was matched by no one. If he was the last living being in the Galaxy climbing that hill then so be it. 

 

There is no ignorance, there is knowledge. 

 

The holpad that held the words lit up the otherwise dim room. Alone, in the center, Cassius knelt staring only at the words of the code. The small transport ship was not designed to be luxury, and why would it be, the Jedi did not live in luxury. The room was like any other room on a ship. A small bed inserted into the wall, a closet that would currently sat empty as the only clothing he had were his brown robes, a white undershirt, and black pants and brown belt. The lighting flickered every now and then which made the blue light that came from his holopad stick out even more than it already did. The yellow dim of the room was, in its own way, calming.

 

There is no passion, there is serenity. 

 

No passion. This one line continued to trip him up. His mother and father, dead, just like that. For no other reason than the Sith embodied chaos. Death, destruction, to them a human life was nothing more than a blip. Thousands dead, but two meant more to Cassius than he cared to admit to anyone around him, as those two were the ones who had birthed him. Unfortunately, that was all they had done, as he had been taken from birth to be a Jedi. He often wondered what they were like. Did they miss him? Were the proud their son was a Jedi? Did they understand that he was, by all accounts, a disappointment by Jedi standards? 

 

There is no chaos, there is harmony. 

 

He tried to push the negative thoughts from his mind. He could not allow the negativity to seep into his essence. Not now, of all times, he had to remain steadfast. The death of his parents was crushing but he could not dwell. They were one with the force now, a fate that eventually all beings would succumb to, the natural way of life. One day he himself would return from where he came, the force, and all of that pain and shame he felt would mean nothing. In all honesty, the idea of it was almost romantic, the idea that there would be no more suffering for him. Pure serenity. 

 

There is no death, there is the force. 

 

The ship shook as the landing sequence was initiated and Cassius clicked off the holopad and slipped it into the pouch on his belt and he stood to his feet. He grabbed a small bag that held a few changes of clothing, but nothing else, and he made his way to the exit of the ship. On his way out he passed through a few droids who were ensuring the ship was running as it should. As he made his way out, a Cathar with bright yellow fur that was mixed with black, stepped out from the Captains cabin. He nodded at Cassius and Cassius nodded back. "Thank you for safe passage, it is not easy flying for the Jedi these days." Cassius bowed slightly to the Cathar who looked up and just stared at Cassius for a few moments. 

 

"I do what I can." He said casually as he continued on his way. 

 

Cassius stood still for a moment, somewhat sensing the conflict inside of the pilot, but he did not have control enough of the Force to be able to understand what any of it meant. That was his skill level. He could feel the force, he understood what he was feeling in the sense that he knew the Force was trying to speak to him, but understanding it on a level any deeper than that was well beyond his capabilities. But he did not need the aid of the Force to understand that these were dangerous times for anyone sympathetic to the Jedi Order. The Sith were powerful and hated anyone and everyone who had anything to do with the Rebel Alliance or the Jedi Order. All you needed to understand that was a basic understanding of Galactic Politics. 

 

As the doors to Nar Shaddaa opened, Cassius was overcome with emotions for only a moment, as the city came into view. Stepping off the ship he reached back into his pouch and pulled out an encrypted holopad. Using his fingerprint he viewed the coordinates he had been given. He was to meet his new Master at the location. He memorized the location and off he went. He pulled his hood up above his head and made his way through the streets. Tempting as it was, he did not stop to take in the sights, he had a mission. His first mission. He would not deviate from the path laid bare before him. 

 

Not long after leaving his ship he arrived at the designated meeting point, the Rebel Alliance Headquarters. Stopping outside of the entrance he looked it up and down. How long had he envisioned this moment? Joining the fight? Being something more than an errand boy. He was, finally, taking his first steps to becoming a Jedi. He stepped forward and on an intercom he announced himself. 

 

"Cassius Nero, I am expected I believe." 

  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

On 1/15/2022 at 1:33 AM, Frond said:

Frond followed along with the others. All about them, the world bustled. Gesturing towards a jagged alley, Frond stopped the group, placing his hand atop the casket bearing anti-grav sled.

 

Inhaling deeply, Frond’s fronds quivered as his mind delved deeply transcending ancient plains and expanding out upon the force itself. It was the closest that the tree felt to being real. Not this physical mess that they pretended mattered. Then he spoke, his voice carried softly and deeply. “This world feels solid,” he stamped his rooted splayed foot on the ground, “the wind, the force, blows as truth.” He patted the coffin/crate containing the body of the clones’ fallen force-using comrade, “Jensaarai follow the truth, guided by the unseen power, hidden in plain sight, so too shall be death.”

 

Taking the lead, Frond led the group down the shadowy winding path until they came to a grungy shop with a squeaking sign covered in grime and blackened dirt. Barely discernible  beneath the years of wear and grime were the aurabesh letters for BLACKSMITH. With a push of a button, the door swooshed open with an uncharacteristically concerning rattle. The inside was equal to, if not worse than the sign. Everything was covered in dirt, dust, grease, and grime. It was practically impossible to even step inside without getting covered.

 

The place was deserted and the forge, well-stocked, was cold. A myriad of armors and medieval-styled vibro weapons hung on the walls above a workbench of intricate bits of wiring and tools.

 

Stepping to the forge, Frond, wiped a layer of grease from the red starter button. “Freedom in the flame.” Frond gestured to the clones bidding them load their fallen friend’s body into the empty forge. “Carried on the winds of truth, reborn in the force.” All they needed to do was place the Jensaarai in the forge. With the push of a button, it would be ignited and his body rapidly dried, scorched and burned to ash. A forge that could liquify Mandalorian iron would easily disintegrate the body of the Duros; with time for anyone to say words should they so desire. Otherwise, Frond would stand in silence watching the flames lick at the fallen force user, releasing his true inner being. 

 

((I'm just kinda cutting this shorter... If you consider this short... Idk))

 

Following Frond the triad continued through the busy walkways and streets of the Nar Shaddaa city, the group took in the different sights and sounds as they weren't too used to the "civvie" life. Their lives were spent in the army and in combat, nothing more, and nothing less. But with that chain being broke so long ago and the Grand Republic, the original Empire and it's previous Sith gone for the first time they were truly free. If they so desired that. However their calling was the call of duty, it was in their blooded and mended into the back of their minds that they loved fighting and taking breaks or even long vacations might be a viable option, but as long as the Sith were still present the Clones felt they needed to continue to fight. 

 

Taking a dingy alleyway, the group came upon an old workshop of sorts, the alien letters spelling out "BLACKSMITH" was obvious enough, but the question was to be asked, why were they here? Upon entering the old shop it was clearly abandoned, old and grimy, the place was well stocked but clearly it also possessed the likeness of a ghost town. Frond activated the forge which fires right up after a moment of powering, and once it was heated the Clones understood what was happening. They were going to cremate the rogues body, not give it to the Jedi, as Tilt figured that maybe Pryf was a Jedi of his own calling, or perhaps a rogue simply following the will of the Force. 

 

With no words, the Clones loaded up the coffin into the forge to allow it to burn, the smoke while not instant eventually grew and billowed through an air shaft and ducts that lead outside. All he could smell was wood and a mixture of odd scents, no words were expelled but one tapping into their thoughts or feelings revealed that there was no need for words at all. For whatever it was worth, Tilt allowed his guilt and negative feelings flow into the fire, a spiritual aspect he'd learned while deployed as reconnaissance on another planet the natives taught him and his squad mates. Letting go was wise and the best choice, but to never remember, the negative thoughts can hinder oneself down the road and can endanger them and others around them. It was saddening at first, but alleviating at the same time, and to rejoice as they were becoming one with the Force. 

 

Once it was all said and done, while the remnants of the fires were still ablaze, Tilt remembered something and pulled out twin lightsaber blades. He stared at them before handing them out to Frond, "I...Uh... I'm not good with words, I'm not built that way. But I kinda had the feeling that we shouldn't burn these with the body. If you want you can take 'em, do whatever you feel is right with them. These Lightsabers did right by the Mantis, so I figured someone who knows the Force would do right by these."

  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Standing aside his shuttle, Vice Admiral Nikolai Kolchak of the Imperial Remnant read over the profiles of the clones, @Tilt07 his men had come across. His face, stoic, as always from the enhancements and alterations his cybernetics had taken on his body, did not betray his emotions; but he was pleased. His whirling eye, meanwhile noted another craft landing in the same area. A single passenger disembarked. “Most odd”. He whispered to himself.

 

The commander did not worry that the being presented a threat. He had a team of elite stormtroopers that had always seen to it that he remained safe, in spite of the crazy dangers the Director of Naval Intelligence put them into.

 

Tapping the edge of his clipboard, Kolchak caught the attention of his escort and nodded in the direction of @Cassius Nero as he wandered away from the landing bay. A knowing nod was all that was conveyed, any conversation amongst the white clad veteran soldiers and intelligence assets was unheard, contained within encrypted comms.

 

Tucking the clipboard under his right arm, Kolchak strode after the solitary arrival. That in itself was odd enough. A planet in evacuation and a single solitary teen arrives in world? It smelled suspicious enough. Was this another rebel looking for a cause? A mind-washed terrorist bent on suicide? An agent of the Sith? He would find out soon enough.

 

He followed the young man towards Rebel HQ. Suspicious enough. And then the boy introduced himself. Nikolai nodded. Was he expected though? Or was this a clever ruse to gain access to the Empress?

 

”Nero vas it?” He deep heavily accented voice boomed directly behind Cassius. The Vice Admiral stood, hands on his hips regarding the solitary figure. His cybernetic eye whirled and clicked as it took in the boy entirely, analyzing everything from his stance to his garb. “Vhat bring you here, a vorld in chaos? Ze Empire haz been expecting you.” he lied, trying to see if he could crack the traveller’s facade. Behind the commander, stood Kolchak’s four personal guard, their weapons held loosely, but resdy to react in an instant should the need arise.

kol2.png.1d12933059e161bb1d4824942dd151d8.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

“I want a full report on the squadron.” She wiped her grease covered hands on her trousers, not even noticing that they did not get much cleaner . The XJ horizon engines were not clean pieces of equipment. Designed with warfighting in mind they had fuel efficiency and thrust in mind, not cleanliness or consistent thousand flight hour maintenance. The fighters had been given to the Jedi Order by the Imperial Remnant of all places, as second hand replacements to stem the tide of Jedi losses over Onderon, then Dark sun quickly after. They had served their purpose, but now they were showing their wear. 

 

Pulling heavy atmosphere duty day after day in combat air patrol was not a kind thing to an engine or an airframe that was designed for deep space flight. So now their squadron was in a deep maintenance cycle. Or what would have been a deep maintenance cycle if the impending Sith invasion did not get in the way of their plans. So the twelve Jedi Order pilots were doing a quick set of repairs and cleanings. Knowing that any minute, a Sith Armada would drop out of hyperspace. 

 

“Intercomm two indicates that there is a Jedi apprentice on standby. Needs an escort while his Master is sorted out by the council.” 

 

Brittany Vor’tok looked back at her assistant flight officer and sighed an exasperated sigh. It made sense, she needed a break, she needed lunch, but apprentice babysitting? Well it had to be done, even if she was dirty as seven hells. 

 

A quick stop in the refresher unit to change into a slightly less dirty set of bright orange flightsuits and clean the rest of the grease and carbon off of her forearms, and she was running down the corridors to find the young man. 

______________________________________

tallie-(1).png.d32ee0ca3ffe297627be4ad74175cb05.png

  • Like 1
tvWz5an.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Cassius awaited patiently for any type of response. His thoughts remaining focused on meeting his new Jedi Master, trying to ignore everything around him, but this proved to be quite the mishap. A voice, very close to him and with an odd accent, said his name. Cassius jerked his head around and was met with quite the imposing, and honestly given the circumstances, frightening man. A cybernetic eye, obviously focused solely on Cassius, scanned him up and down. The noises it made were unsettling but the way it moved made it even worse. Close by, a group of stormtroopers put him even at an even greater sense of unease. Five minutes was as long as he had been on this planet and already he was met with a situation that he had absolutely no idea how to respond to. 

 

"A world in chaos offers a lot of site seeing," Cassius immediately wondered why he had said that and why he had said it that way. Given the circumstances he should have been more frightened, but something inside of him told him to play it cool. Don't reveal too much and remain confident. That much had been drilled into his head all of his life. Fear lead to nothing but mistakes and he could not make a mistake, not now. "I also doubt the Empire has much interest in someone like me, and if so, they would be the first." He smiled politely and then glanced back at the stormtroopers that tagged along with him.

 

The political landscape of the galaxy was complicated. Way more complicated than Cassius dared get involved in. From his best estimate, this guy was part of the Remnant, an ally to the Rebel Alliance. Not what Cassius would consider his cup of tea, but an ally no less, but he still did not know who this man was and would not reveal anything more than he needed to. If things went south, well, Cassius was out of luck. His combat skills were on par with where they needed to be but he was not even the best hand to hand fighter of his age group. The way this man carried himself he definitely figured if it came down to it then Cassius would be on the losing end. 

 

"I am not here to cause any trouble," Cassius finally uttered as he realized that considering that violence may come to pass was only a self fulfilling prophecy he did not want to be part of. "I am sure someone here can vouch for me." He attempted to make himself as unthreatening as possible. He kept his hands clearly visible, he did not make any sudden movements, and he maintained eye contact with the man in front of him. He made sure not to appear nervous so that he did not get the wrong idea. They were, after all, on the same side so he needed to play ball with him. 

 

@Nikolai Kolchak

  • Like 3
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Kirlocca took a moment to fully breathe in his inhale of breath that he took while embrace to Raven. As she let herself become more relaxed and leaned upon a table, her voice shifted as she spoke. His own eyes watched her carefully, the rise and fall of her chest as she took in each breath and let it out naturally. She was relaxed for anyone who would observe her, but for him... there was still something like a weight that held within her. He believed her words, as he doubted she did know. Something sat upon her. When she turned to question on him, he knew he would have to answer her, as she would pick up on him not telling the truth. 

 

<< What I feel is something like a weight that's causing pressure and stirring your emotions. What it is or what's causing it... I can not answer that. But maybe you need some time to heal such tiredness. To recharge your love. To not have the pressure of being everything for everyone. >> 

 

The Wookiee moved towards her and placed both paws upon her shoulders. 

 

<< To be Raven. Just Raven. Not an empress, not ruling an empire... >>

 

Kirlocca then stood up and looked Raven within her eyes. She needed a break. He wished her to take one at will, but he understood that such an option was not really on the table for her.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Nikolai Kolchak stood like a sentinel as he regarded the younger man. He bit his lower lip after several seconds before he spoke, “Who iz to zay vhat ze eyes of ze Emprezz take interest in young Cazziusss?”

 

“You keep own counzil. I appreziate zhat. Ze Empire appreziate zhat.”


The grizzled naval officer let his arms fall to his side, as he stepped forward to offer a large handshake to the Jedi @Cassius Nero. “Zhis vorld iz evacuating. To arrive at such time, very zuzpect, vould you agree? You, ov courze have paperz documenting your arrival and purpoze at zhis site vithin Imperial jurisdiction.” He pointed to the closed door with his opposite hand. His last words wete a statement more than a question as he held out an open hand for any such documentation that might be produced.

 

In truth, the world was in such a tizzy, ever since it’s takeover to now; that such documentation was rare. Kolchak knew that the ship that had not deposited the young Jedi had not been met by a customs officer; but had been allowed to land, having skirted the fleet, his fleet, above. Still, he was interested in the fellow, never one to let a possible ally go wasted.

  • Like 2

kol2.png.1d12933059e161bb1d4824942dd151d8.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Every second that passed was more and more intense for Cassius. He was not sure the intentions of the man in front of him, and truth be told, his cybernetic eye was not helping the situation at all. Sure, the four stormtroopers behind him were scary and all, but the way that eye was scanning him was making him extremely uneasy. "The Empire appreciates it, eh?" Cassius felt that bravery welling up inside of him again. He knew that they were all working together but at the end of the day he served only one master and that was the Force. The Empire meant nothing to him, well that was a lie, it did in the sense that the people within the Empire deserved to be protected and to live peaceful and better lives. Both of which did not seem to be coming in droves here on Nar Shaddaa. 

 

He thought better of mouthing off even further to the man. Instead he focused on the next bit. The city was in evacuation and it was strange that he was coming into the city instead of leaving it. Probably made all the more suspicious by the fact that he had come straight to the Rebel Headquarters. Then he asked for papers and any sense of bravery Cassius may have had quickly drained out of him. He did not have anything to show that he belonged here. He glanced back over at the comm and wondered if they were ever going to speak up? It did not appear so. 

 

Think! 

 

"I came alone, on a ship that was able to get clearance to land, and came straight to this part of Nar Shaddaa," Oh lord, where was he going with this? He had to essentially come up with a good cover story on the fly. Well, it wasn't actually a cover story, what he was saying was all true. The context was definitely out of place, no doubt about that, but it was true. "Do a lot of people dress like me and get the same kind of clearance?" He was, of course, referring to his obvious Jedi Robes. It seemed pretty easy to tell that he was a Jedi, or on Jedi business, even though his age certainly would be a telling story. 

 

He also could not just outright tell him why he was there. Truth be told he was not sure what he was and was not allowed to say. He knew the Jedi were here but with how strict they were about who to talk to, who to not talk to, and where and when they could go to certain areas he had no reason to believe that they were not as strict here as they were back on Felucia. He did not want to give anything away to anyone who did not need to hear it. It was time for a gambit. 

 

"Listen, someone is going to meet me out here, and when they do they can vouch for my right to be here. How about you keep a real close eye on me until then? I won't move or do anything drastic. You can even detain me if you like?" He was betting on the Jedi sending someone to his location and hopefully clear the whole mess up. It was typical that his first time off of Felucia and he was being questioned right outside the HQ. 

  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Was that one of the Imperial Remnant high command? And he was talking to the wayward apprentice? Oh what trouble would this be? She felt her heart flutter for a moment as she continued her jog down the corridors towards the main entrances, hoping the young man was not saying anything too revealing. The Alliance operated just fine as it was, a conglomeration of old enemies who had only one thing in common. The destruction of the Sith. 

 

If she had been born fifteen years before Brittany would have been very likely trying to kill or disable that Imperial Admiral. Now she gave him a crisp salute. Her ungloved hand pressed keenly beside her eyebrow, and her pale eyes staring at him from beneath her second lieutenants cap. Of imperial design, which halfway clashed with the orange flightsuit and silver flightwings which designated her as belonging to the Jedi Order’s flight crew. 

 

“Admiral, I see you have met our new member!” She smiled warmly, perhaps more warmly than she felt, but she did have to put on a good show. “Well new to us at Nar Shaddaa at least.” She turned her gaze to Cassius. “Did your flight go well?” 

 

______________________________________

tallie-(1).png.d32ee0ca3ffe297627be4ad74175cb05.png

  • Like 2
tvWz5an.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

11 hours ago, Alcmène said:

“This is an opportunity to use the force, to let it guide the construction. You see It flows through everything, even the metal and the circuitry, but I think we will not know how to make the proper measurements and constructions without first acquiring the gem!” 

 

She put her hand onto his shoulder. 

 

“We can take my family's shuttle if you need. It’s properly equipped for deep space exploration, so surely it can survive in the gas giant. Grab what you need, the sheet metal, batteries, lenses, emitters in that box there, wiring, and that small tool kit.” 

 

She grinned and picked up her bags and the shield lattice.

 

“See you at the shuttle bay?” 

 

Though his argument seemed true enough, Vox knew Alcmène was correct. Given the current build of the weapon he thought it was as easy as snapping a stone into the tool and it was done. That was not, in fact, the case at all. Vox did as told and grabbed whatever he could, taking someone's journey bag and stuffing it full of equipment at least enough to make two sabers with spare parts left. No thanks to Romulus, Vox almost knew what to grab as far as carving material for metals go, as well as a few pieces for natural carvings as well. By the time he was done the armored Trandoshan had a ridiculous amount of things that may or may not be important including his schematics and the tool kit, in all reality he had no clue what he was really grabbing, but unbeknownst to himself, he had more than enough. 

 

Vox hadn't the time to look up at his mentor to see that she was gone already, he supposed he'd use the Force to find her if need be. Finding his way out of the facility, he would certainly be heading back to the starport where his brothers and comrades were also staying, albeit in the refugee camp. That was easy to find. Leaving with a sense of purpose, Vox had spent the next minutes in a seeming maze until reaching outside where he took the directions all the way to the refugee camp. 

 

Upon reaching the camp after some time, Vox made his way to the set of refurbished cargo containers and outside there was a large crowd. Immediately his thoughts rested on Krexis and Rylast perhaps training and catching the attention of people from around. Other refugees, civilians, even troopers and officers were tad closer than to be wary of swinging limbs and blades, there was hushed whisper and then cheers and awe. What was going on?

 

When he reached the makeshift home Vox tried to look over the surrounding group of people, possibly forty in total if not a little less but after seeing two colored heads below the group he knew it was to no avail. After walking around the group he heard a sudden voice, Chaox speaking almost arrogantly, "I deal a hundred damage directly, and you discard two chips." 

 

"Oh shit! C'mon, you're losin'!" One Twi'lek merchant states, catching Vox's attention. 

 

The warrior grew tiresome and finally found a spot where he could get a glimpse of both Chaox and Varsus... Sitting at a metal table, with stone chips of painted characters and numbers splayed in an odd but organized fashion. The table was split into two sides, and while Vox was trying to figure out what was going on Varsus quickly flipped over a chip in a section closest to him, and said in a dramatic tone, "I activate Pawn Retrieval, which allows me to bring back one Tier 2 Monster from the Graveyard. Then I add two Tier 4 monsters back into my deck and draw one chip. I then activate another trap chip in a chain, Acid Rain, which deals a hundred damage to your life points for every monster on the field, then you discard a card from the top of your deck times the number of Magic chips you have on the field!" 

 

Immediately the crowd roared in cheering or booing, some people exchanging credits to each other. Shaking his head, Vox  couldn't help but smile, happy that Varsus was out but recovering. He couldn't help but grin at the distressed look of Chaox who was never on the backfoot of anything, including some game. Entering the home, Vox could already tell the warriors had been hard at work refurbishing the place, making it more... Liveable was the closest word came to mind. The place was clean and more furniture was added, but he then saw the weaponry and equipment against the North wall, cleaned and repaired, the handy work of Romulus, Krexis and Rylast no doubt. 

 

"Romulus, Equinox?" Vox called out to the odd noises toward the back of the building. He walked to the back and pressed a button to the side, and when the door opened Rylast pulled Vox through and immediately shut the door. 

 

Romulus asks quickly from across a table of parts, "Where have you been?!" 

 

Vox walked forward when the largest Trandoshan in the room went back to working on a piece of armor and wires, he took a look at the station, then the room which seemed more organized, "I've been... Training. What are you doing?" 

 

"Finishing..." Romulus put together an odd weapon, the crude make of Nudono as it's heavy metal design also had a blade sticking from it's underside with holes sizeable for fingers to grip the weapon, without the potential to cut oneself, "With our newest prototype. I realized if we're dealing with long ranged weapons like these blaster, it's best to adopt their style of weaponry... In our own style, of course! Here, hold it!" 

 

Romulus tossed the weapon to Vox who'd set the tool kit down, he caught the rifle and looked it over. It looked like a modified Spike Carbine, however it was a foot longer and had a stock. No longer did the weapon have two blades but one and it didn't have a ammo clip, instead the parts that were missing had a compartment for the same gas cells that blasters took. But oddly, where a magazine clip would be was a vacant slot, which raised several questions. But Vox didn't have time to ask, his mentor was waiting for him. 

 

"Sooo what'cha think?" 

 

Shaking his head after setting the almost finished weapon down Vox replies, "I think I'll be leaving. Quite the... Device you've made?" 

 

"Leaving? Where?" Romulus asks almost as if forgetting the weapon. 

 

"Leaving with a friend. You remember those energy blades the Black Cloaks possessed? I am to travel to another planet to grab a crystal for one of my own. Wait, where are Krexis and Equinox?"

 

Romulus stares for a minute before he started to grab a things into his own backpack, already having an armored jumpsuit of his own make on just in case something like this came up, "They're off gathering food for a feast, also they are grabbing components, parts, and whatever else we need for the house and our equipment, plumbing here is horrid! They'll be gone most the day. The Alliance granted us a ton of credits for our missions. Oh, and of you're wondering about Chaox and Varsus they're playing Duel Monsters, bringing in a lotta credits those two, and I have him they're being watched live on the Holonet." 

 

Vox watched the little Trandoshan scurry about, putting parts back down or setting them in a pouch of his bag. What was he doing, and what in Maccond's name was Duel Monsters, and the Holonet for that matter? Worse yet, Romulus seemed to be looking for something, rounding things up, but Vox simply said his goodbyes and left immediately before he could be dragged out for more conversation. When he exited the outside he could see Chaox cussing Varsus, with the younger Trandoshan adding something to an effect or whatever it was. The crowd slightly grew larger, and there were two small droids in the shake of orbs hovering of the center. It was a bizarre sight to say the least. 

 

Finally after more minutes of travel, Vox reached the vessel Alcmène was waiting at, which he could only smile. Upon reaching the woman he was about to say something until he heard a familiar voice he'd just left, "Wait! Waaiiit!" 

 

Vox turned and to his confusion, Romulus came rushing with a large backpack full of junk, and two weapon slung to his front and a Spiker holstered to his side. He held the same tool kit Vox left behind and held it out for his superior to take, panting at the same time. The Jedi in training took the kit, before asking, "What are you doing here, Romulus?" 

 

"I... I'm coming!" Romulus said catching his breath, the clear distinction between the two Trandoshans we're clear with what Vox being taller and bulkier, clad in armor while Romulus was scrawny, just a tad taller than the average Human and was garbed in an armored plates jumpsuit, "Equinox ordered me that if you were leaving again, I come with you, you need protection and with what the Sith and their death armies being about I'd personally rather your odds be more favorable... By a percent at least!" 

 

"I...! You...!" Vox was trying to think of a way to keep Romulus grounded, but no excuse could stop the smaller lizard from coming along.

 

Defeated, Vox finally turned to Alcmène, "Forgive the... Holdup. It seems we will have a guest to our company, if you would not mind him."

voxpopuli.png.f80f68e125067e4949ab35e17a997bbd.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Frond stood well back from the intense licking flames as they consumed the coffin and body within. Gingerly, he egged the fire hotter and hotter, until even the bone dissolved into ash. All the while, the ancient wooden man stood watching. The flickering shadows across his face seemed to age the tree another 5,000 years and in the gloom he looked wizened and mysterious.

 

Finally one of the clones @Tilt07 broke the silence as he turned and produced a pair of silvered hilts. Lightsabers, a matching set. Raising an eyebrow, the Neti’s deep eyes glistened in the dying firelight as his gnarled hand reached out to stroke the cool metal with elongated fingers. “Treasure most precious,” he whispered as he regarded the weapons before drawing his other hand to his chest where a knot slowly opened with the buckling of wooden fibers. Reaching into his own body, Frond removed the two hilts of the Sith sabers he had liberated from Aiden’s quarters. Holding them in his hand he extended them towards Tilt. “Born unto the darkest of nights.” Dropping one of his hilts into Tilt’s hands, Frond withdrew one of the fallen warrior’s sabers. Now clutching one of each in each hand, he ignited them. The stereo sounds of both blades igniting seemed to make the room swim for a mere moment. Orange and red.hues seemed to dance in the flickering firelight and the hunger of the Sith blade seemed to almost visibly claw for the sweet taste of blood. Meanwhile, Frond felt the surety of the Jensaarai’s blade, a lost brother to that of the Sith’s but purified in it’s origins. Drawn from darkness into the truth, the truth held the darkness at bay.  A smile broke Frond’s somber face as he looked to Tilt and his comrades, “Sunrise beckons us.”

 

Deactivating the weapons, Frond picked up all four hilts in his viney hands, holding each one up to eye level as if a jeweler surveying a priceless gemstone, before tucking it away within the open knothole in his chest. The last, one of The Mantis’ blades, he held for even longer, feeling it, searching it with his eyes and upon the force itself.

 

Turning his glance to the soldiers again he spoke, “Freed unto the force, released by the flames of truth, his memory lives.” Frond reached up slowly to touch his gnarled temple before reaching to touch Rigg’s head as well, seeing as he was the closest. “And yet the mind fades,” he added quite suddenly, turning the hilt over in his hand again as he redirected his attention to it. “In memories forgotten,”

 

Offering the hilt outwards on his palm, Frond held the weapon for Tilt to take should he choose to want it, “To touch, to believe.” 
 

It was up to the clones wether they wanted such a weapon as a memory of their comrade. To Frond, it was a tool of the force born upon this physical world, a mystical connection of mystical and material. He knew; however, that it might serve as a more potent memory for the others when the darkness grew.

 

Once their interaction was completed; wether they jet the hilt or returned it to Frond to seal within his chest, Frond would gesture that they follow, tisking and shaking his head like a slightly off kilter grandfather as he regarded their garb. Even he knew it to be outdated.

 

Leading the group deeper into the shadows of the city, Frond twisted and turned at random. Like a root seeking water that none but it might sense, he led them into the depths of Nar Shaddaa where the fringes of the Rebel/Imperial war machine rarely ventured. Underground, where the dim light of fading lamps were all that lit their path along the mucky walkways between dens of iniquity and vice until they came to a rather obnoxious glowing sign that flashed in the dimness,Madam Ploof’s Exotic Dance and Massage’.

 

Frond smiled at the looks on the clones’ faces as he bid them enter. Inside was to be as expected. The sweet smells of burning spice mingled with the thick smoke of death sticks in the air as music thumped hard enough to be felt in one’s chest and at least a half dozen different scantily clad (or less) dancers plied their wares. Frond led the way to the back, his thick mangled form barely drawing a glance from the heavy Herglic bouncers at the door. Sliding past a heavy curtain the group was met by what had to be one of the ugliest Twi’lek women imaginable. Scars criscrossed her pocked face and single remaining lekku and when she smiled one of her teeth, yellow and black, quite literally fell from her mouth to the floor. The large wart on her nose only completed the ensemble. “Frondsy!” She cackled at the sight of the tree-man. “Brought me more boys to see me baubles have ye? Well come along gentlemen. Come along.” Quickly the woman grabbed Thumper by the shoulder and Tilt by the hand and pulled them down a dark creaking hallway into a small poorly lit room. 
 

Pulling them in, the woman shut and locked the door. She spun around and flicked a switch. The unseen grind of machines could be heard as the walls opened to reveal rows upon tows of military grade, illegal, and exotic weapons lined up in neat rows on one side, armors of all sorts on another, and miscellaneous tools and explosives on yet another. “Feel free to browse m’boys. Everything is for sale!” She said with a wink and she thrust a hip suggestively at Riggs with a wink.

 

And as the clones began to look, the sickening Tw’lek sidled over to Frond and whispered loudly. “Which one do I gets ta keep as payment this time? Or d’ya have something better to barter with?”

  • Like 1
XQ19Jfm.png
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Beneath their helmets, the stormtroopers smiled at the Jedi’s bravado. Before Nikolai Kolchak could respond, the Jedi Ace appeared and spoke.

 

The Admiral returned the salute, withdrawing his unreturned handshake from the newest member of their order. He even managed to offer a somewhat forced smile to the newest member of their meeting before he turned to regard Cassius again. “Ah. Zo I zee you are vith Jediz. Very vell. I do not understand vhy you keep such thingz zecret.” The Imperial’s voice carried a playful air to it, even as the words hung heavy, line he was disappointed in the revelation. “Ve are all friendz here. Zome of your greatezt Jediz even become Imperial Knight or vork as azzetts of intelligence for common good.”

 

Kolchak offered a crisp salute before turning away to leave. Taking a few steps he turned back, “Oh. Vone ozher zhing. Do give Master Kill my best regards. Good luck in your training young Jedi.” Nikolai Kolchak was probably one of the few, if only people that knew of the Jedi Healer’s whereabouts on Byss, having supplied her, at her request, high level intelligence assets to aid her and keep her safe. Even now Imperial Knight Lok Skyshatter and Intelligence Assets Ruin & Fera were acting under orders. The might of the Empress knew no bounds. it was Kolchak’s job to keep it that way. He would watch the young Jedi from a distance. If he proved capable, he might just yet become a valued member of the Navy’s intelligence web, or even better, an Imperial Knight in service to the Empress.

kol2.png.1d12933059e161bb1d4824942dd151d8.png

Link to comment
Share on other sites

5 hours ago, Frond said:

Frond stood well back from the intense licking flames as they consumed the coffin and body within. Gingerly, he egged the fire hotter and hotter, until even the bone dissolved into ash. All the while, the ancient wooden man stood watching. The flickering shadows across his face seemed to age the tree another 5,000 years and in the gloom he looked wizened and mysterious.

 

Finally one of the clones @Tilt07 broke the silence as he turned and produced a pair of silvered hilts. Lightsabers, a matching set. Raising an eyebrow, the Neti’s deep eyes glistened in the dying firelight as his gnarled hand reached out to stroke the cool metal with elongated fingers. “Treasure most precious,” he whispered as he regarded the weapons before drawing his other hand to his chest where a knot slowly opened with the buckling of wooden fibers. Reaching into his own body, Frond removed the two hilts of the Sith sabers he had liberated from Aiden’s quarters. Holding them in his hand he extended them towards Tilt. “Born unto the darkest of nights.” Dropping one of his hilts into Tilt’s hands, Frond withdrew one of the fallen warrior’s sabers. Now clutching one of each in each hand, he ignited them. The stereo sounds of both blades igniting seemed to make the room swim for a mere moment. Orange and red.hues seemed to dance in the flickering firelight and the hunger of the Sith blade seemed to almost visibly claw for the sweet taste of blood. Meanwhile, Frond felt the surety of the Jensaarai’s blade, a lost brother to that of the Sith’s but purified in it’s origins. Drawn from darkness into the truth, the truth held the darkness at bay.  A smile broke Frond’s somber face as he looked to Tilt and his comrades, “Sunrise beckons us.”

 

Deactivating the weapons, Frond picked up all four hilts in his viney hands, holding each one up to eye level as if a jeweler surveying a priceless gemstone, before tucking it away within the open knothole in his chest. The last, one of The Mantis’ blades, he held for even longer, feeling it, searching it with his eyes and upon the force itself.

 

Turning his glance to the soldiers again he spoke, “Freed unto the force, released by the flames of truth, his memory lives.” Frond reached up slowly to touch his gnarled temple before reaching to touch Rigg’s head as well, seeing as he was the closest. “And yet the mind fades,” he added quite suddenly, turning the hilt over in his hand again as he redirected his attention to it. “In memories forgotten,”

 

Offering the hilt outwards on his palm, Frond held the weapon for Tilt to take should he choose to want it, “To touch, to believe.” 
 

It was up to the clones wether they wanted such a weapon as a memory of their comrade. To Frond, it was a tool of the force born upon this physical world, a mystical connection of mystical and material. He knew; however, that it might serve as a more potent memory for the others when the darkness grew.

 

Once their interaction was completed; wether they jet the hilt or returned it to Frond to seal within his chest, Frond would gesture that they follow, tisking and shaking his head like a slightly off kilter grandfather as he regarded their garb. Even he knew it to be outdated.

 

Leading the group deeper into the shadows of the city, Frond twisted and turned at random. Like a root seeking water that none but it might sense, he led them into the depths of Nar Shaddaa where the fringes of the Rebel/Imperial war machine rarely ventured. Underground, where the dim light of fading lamps were all that lit their path along the mucky walkways between dens of iniquity and vice until they came to a rather obnoxious glowing sign that flashed in the dimness,Madam Ploof’s Exotic Dance and Massage’.

 

Frond smiled at the looks on the clones’ faces as he bid them enter. Inside was to be as expected. The sweet smells of burning spice mingled with the thick smoke of death sticks in the air as music thumped hard enough to be felt in one’s chest and at least a half dozen different scantily clad (or less) dancers plied their wares. Frond led the way to the back, his thick mangled form barely drawing a glance from the heavy Herglic bouncers at the door. Sliding past a heavy curtain the group was met by what had to be one of the ugliest Twi’lek women imaginable. Scars criscrossed her pocked face and single remaining lekku and when she smiled one of her teeth, yellow and black, quite literally fell from her mouth to the floor. The large wart on her nose only completed the ensemble. “Frondsy!” She cackled at the sight of the tree-man. “Brought me more boys to see me baubles have ye? Well come along gentlemen. Come along.” Quickly the woman grabbed Thumper by the shoulder and Tilt by the hand and pulled them down a dark creaking hallway into a small poorly lit room. 
 

Pulling them in, the woman shut and locked the door. She spun around and flicked a switch. The unseen grind of machines could be heard as the walls opened to reveal rows upon tows of military grade, illegal, and exotic weapons lined up in neat rows on one side, armors of all sorts on another, and miscellaneous tools and explosives on yet another. “Feel free to browse m’boys. Everything is for sale!” She said with a wink and she thrust a hip suggestively at Riggs with a wink.

 

And as the clones began to look, the sickening Tw’lek sidled over to Frond and whispered loudly. “Which one do I gets ta keep as payment this time? Or d’ya have something better to barter with?”

 

The situation was... Odd. The answer wasn't what Tilt had expected but in Yoda-like words Frond spoke, and ignited the sabers he had and one of the ones he collected from Tilt. Orange and red color filled the room, and while Thumper and Riggs were ready to pull their weapons their commanding captain put a hand out quickly to halt them. The glowing colors of the Sith and Mantis blade mimicked that of flames but unmoving, as if time had stopped the flickering of the fires within their gaze. Tilt didn't know of this Neti was a Sith, perhaps a former one, or much like General Grievous was a collector of things but on a less violent scale... Maybe.  Tilt had a feel the latter of all things were the strongest possibility, and his gut was never wrong. 

 

Upon deactivating the blades the tree man took all three bolts and folded then into his wood body, and presented Tilt with the one of the Mantis' sabers. And Frond spoke, allowing Tilt an option to take it for a viable cause or to allow the weapon to be in the hands of a Force using collector. With hesitance Tilt took the hilt and held it up, activating the tool and it lit ablaze of an orange glow. He and his brothers stared in awe, but Tilt soon deactivated the lightsaber and clipped it to a available of his waist. 

 

Sliding their helmets back on the Clones followed the tree man out as the forge finished and started to die out. Thumper lightly elbowed Tilt and said, "I think I've found us a new home, after wherever we're going." 

 

Tilt was confused at first but as the waltzed out of the alleyway and through the paths that were more in disarray than the alleyway of the workshop. Then he understood and said, "Let us see if it's for sell then. We'll come back for the ashes, maybe put the place into a sense of organization. For now, I think our friend beckons us for better wares, wouldn't you think?" 

 

Thumper nodded with Riggs in town, just listening and cocking his head until saying something, "I'd not get too ahead. First things first, new gear, then food, then Kolchak." 

 

Being led through the fringes of the deepest depths of Nar Shaddaa the group came into a place of questionable scenery. Half dressed women danced on poles, men howled from the acts and amongst other things the place was more akin to a club, but hidden away from the rest of the world, it was clear the lowest of the low and deadbeats come here to indulge in their sin. Hell, Tilt thought he saw someone snorting something questionable which was confirmed by Riggs when he said sarcastically, "Awe yeeah! Certainly a god-all f*** sight to behold Tilt!" 

 

One individual, hidden behind a set of thick curtains welcomed Frond and co. as the ugliest woman they'd ever seen. Tilt could have swore Riggs whispered something about getting with a Rancor than this. He'd have to agree with that, as Tilt's gaze followed the falling tooth that fell onto the floor, something that helped him lose his appetite. Their expressions were hidden behind helmets but the lack of... Interactive words, combined with Riggs' lack of flirting set the group as more a serious bunch to outsiders. Shy even, truth be told, they were doing what they could to not finish the number on the ugly Twi'lek's face, put her out of her misery, or even stop themselves from leaving. 

 

Once the boys got permission to start browsing the shop, already they could be seen gathering essential items and even nonessential ones, more or less, everything to either repair armor or new pieces of equipment that matched the armor. More specifically, they were handling metals that couldn't be found elsewhere, and while not Beskarr, they were definitely better than the decayed Plasteel they certainly donned. Their clattering items cane to an immediate stop when they heard the loud whisper of the Twi'lek woman and the Clones looked at each other. There could have been an audible gulp, a held breath, but they continued as if nothing happened. If anything, the Clones we're more scared of the shopkeeper. 

 

After several minutes of gathering things Tilt already had his credits ready, as did Riggs and Thumper, and went to a counter to place the things for checkout, enough for... A variety of options. Tilt said, in a very kind tone with his helmet still on, "Now then, I believe we're ready to pay for these items my dear lady."

  • Like 1
Link to comment
Share on other sites

Cassius felt immediate relief at the arrival of another member. Even more so when he realized that he had been panicking for no reason at all. But, he could not be too sure, and he would rather be safe than sorry. It also did not help that the man was extremely intimidating. "No issues at all," Cassius said to the pilot at her mention of how his flight went. He felt himself relaxing more and more by the second and it was not until his adrenaline was beginning to taper away that he realized how much of it had dumped into his system. "To be honest it is exciting to get off world for a change." That much was true, he had not left Felucia since.... well basically ever. He had been there since he was a child. 

 

Before he made his leave the Admiral commented on his secretiveness. "Best to keep things close to the chest when on a planet that is evacuating." Cassius smiled at the man and his comment. Overall he was glad with his exchange with the man even though it turned out to be nothing more than a formality. He had often wondered how he would stand up under scrutiny and even though he had blown it out of proportion in his mind he felt confident in his skills. "I will gladly give my regards on your behalf, Admiral." Cassius gave a slight bow to the man and his stormtroopers before he returned his attention to the pilot. 

 

"So, what now?" 

  • Like 2
Link to comment
Share on other sites

 Share

×
×
  • Create New...