Jump to content

Kamino


Tarrian Skywalker

Recommended Posts

Piro marveld at the Massassi warriors. Thoughts of chaos and destruction ran through his head. Thoughts that drove Piro to only three questions.

 

"Master, what are Massassi warriors, and who was the candidate to be cloned? what did he do to be granted such an honor to have an army created in his image?"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

"The Massassi are warriors from a time when the Sith were a battered group of children crying and fleeing their Masters, from a time when the Sith were just born. In time they grew in strength and conquered the Massassi race and turned them into warriors, soldiers for their glorious cause."

 

A smug smile crossed the horiffic face of the Blood God,

 

"The donor I do not know, nor where his blood originated from, all I know is Master Tzeentch called for their creation and in time we shall travel to his beckoning call... but for now we depart to our new home."

 

Khorne crossed his arms as he continued to inspect his catch. "Inform the Kaminoans to prepare a shuttle, we are ready to leave with our men."

 

 

khornes.png.a79be97e21bdbe3e666a8171556cf477.png

Deliver my will, and I will elevate you amongst my champions.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Piro thought about his masters words and realized that these soldiers would be a grea asset to them, especially if turned to pariahs. He decided to ask his master.

 

"Khorne, are we going to turn these Massasi into pariahs?"

Link to comment
Share on other sites

It did not take long for the Massassi soldiers to be rounded up, and as Piro spoke and shattered the concentration of Khorne, an engraving in his armor that had never been noticeable before depicted a set of stars in the distance... and between them, a boulder in the abyss of space. An ancient map of the galaxy if you will... of the Outer Rim, near Tatooine.

 

It made sense, the Twin Suns after all...

 

He smiled and motioned for Piro and Deimos to bring themselves aboard the Transport and to have their vessels hoisted within it. Khorne managed a pilot for the Special Bus and the group set forth for Funestus.

 

 

khornes.png.a79be97e21bdbe3e666a8171556cf477.png

Deliver my will, and I will elevate you amongst my champions.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Piro jumped into the transport along with Deimos and thee three left for Funestus. Piro set his ship on an auto pilot course for Fenestus so it would be their when they arrived.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

In Tipoca City's cloning labs, a special order placed visa vie an Imperial Commission and using a sample retrieved from the scorching suns of Tatooine and other samples provided by the owner, reaches its final phase of growth. Preserved in the glass tube full of fluids, the lifeless clone floats, simulated by chemicals and machines. Its features resemble that of one of Faust's former victims, though the cloners are prevented from knowing the identity of this person. The soulless specimine is crated up and taken off world in a privately chartered courier commissioned by Faust independently of the Empire, bundled with a second tube of preserving fluids, all purchased from Faust's reserves. If the mission was completed with some even remote degree of success, his reward would more than make up the difference.

 

The havok this clone Frankenstein would cause for the forces of light were limitless in its potential.

 

The transport courier vanishes into hyperspace, destination hidden and unknown, taking its yet unaminated cargo with it, and sowing the seeds of dischord with its passage.

In Italy for thirty years under the Borgias they had warfare, terror, murder, bloodshed - but they produced Michelangelo, Leonardo da Vinci, and the Renaissance. In Switzerland they had brotherly love, 500 years of democracy and peace, and what did that produce? The cuckoo clock.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 3 weeks later...

A shuttle touches down on a landing pad, and Sate An, Tekkan Raas (still carrying the fallen form of the blind Sith Lord), and a band of black-armored Imperial guards exit.

 

Sate An turns to the bounty hunter.

 

"We'll see to the... resurrection... of that chap first. I want you on hand, just in case things get, well, out-of-hand. Follow me."

 

The group is met by a female Kaminoan, who guides them to the cloning labs.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

A few days had passed.

 

Sate An and Tekkan Raas stand before a massive cylinder and a few adjoining machines ”“ the corpse of the blind Sith Lord hangs in the massive cylinder (which, in reality, is not unlike a bacta tank). As the Imperial agent and bounty hunter look on, a semi-transparent blue fluid fills the cylinder, totally enveloping the suspended corpse (the fluid nurtures the growth of a bacterial medium that seeks out traumatized tissue and promotes regeneration and growth to rapidly heal wounds with minimal or no scarring). After a short time, the corpse is healed of all wounds, but still, of course, remains lifeless.

 

The fluid drains.

 

***

 

A few days had passed.

 

Sate An and Tekkan Raas now stand before a massive, blood-stained operating table ”“ the corpse of the blind Sith Lord is strapped to the table.

 

"This is where things get tricky."

 

Four cloaked beings enter, carrying scrolls. The four, their features masked by the hoods of their cloaks, position themselves around the table, and, as a strange machine lowers from the ceiling, begin to read from their scrolls. The words of the four are spoken in a language unknown to all but the Sith. As Sate An and Tekkan Raas look on, a bolt of electricity cascades down from the strange machine that had lowered from the ceiling, and hits the corpse. As the words of the four grow to screams, the corpse strapped to the massive, blood-stained table begins to jolt about violently.

 

Sate An's hair stands on end.

 

As the seconds crawl by, the corpse's eyes flicker open.

 

Sate An, his eyes wide, turns to Takkan Raas.

 

”œKeep your blaster trained on him, you fool!”

Edited by Guest
Link to comment
Share on other sites

At first there is the void, the black and ever-reaching void of lifelessness... of death without cause or purpose, of endless wandering; an eternal vagabond. And then there is life... and pain. Pain... Pain... and more pain. Pain forever wished upon the damned.

 

As the body jolts about violently, the shackles, holding it down, digging into the healed flesh, the sensation of new blood, new fluid flowing through his veins envelops the tired soul... except he is not tired, but twisted, revitalized and decimated. The muscle spasms about his torso wreak violently as more and more of the blue light strikes into his body, cleansing the resurrected corpse of hair and weakened layers of skin. Through grimacing teeth and contained screams, the body recoils and blood spills from the wrists, lightly onto the table...

 

His lungs filling with air before they heave and exhale in short gasps trying to regain his consciousness, but there is no consciousness, only a confusion and a need for freedom...

Heathen Master of the Lords of Hate

KR: I'm like the freakin' Martha Stewart of Chaos.

 

He was also a Marxist, which is dumb.
Link to comment
Share on other sites

As life enters what was once lifeless, the Hunter drew his blaster and trained the sight on the form of the Sith Master. John's body convulted wildly as the blue light ravaged his body, the energy heavy in the air, a chill running down the Hunter's spine. His movements were unnatural, as if his body moved without the restraints of a backbone. Tekkan Raas had seen many things over his years of travelling the galaxy, but this experience was one that truly stood out from the rest.

 

From the chaos serenity was breed, all was silenced and the Sith lay still on the table, the machine's deed being done. The bounty hunter was no master of the Force, but even as nothing more then a sensitive he could feel the darkside warrior's silent screams. Slowly the mercenary lowered his blaster, finger on the trigger in case a quick reaction needed to be taken

 

"John...John, everything's alright now. Don't know if you can hear me or not, but this was just the first step. We needed you back...the real show is about to begin."

The Bounty Hunting world's one man scourge

TekkanRaas.jpg

So between the flowers and steak I'm saying "I kill stuff for you. Please like me."
Link to comment
Share on other sites

A voice whispers in the background of his thoughts, the voice of an acquaintance, of one who is trained to hunt others of his own species. A man touched by the Force, but not trained in hearing its voice... yet so close to this pain, to this fountain of Dark Side energy, he could grasp it.

 

Words of soothing, spoken from a careful tongue, out of fear, reached the soul locked deep within this abomination. But of what use...?

 

The body lying motionless formed a smirk of yellow-stained teeth, the eyes bloodshot as they opened... yet the muscles in the eyes were dead and there was no such thing as light for this one. The metal shackles, still carrying a charge from the pain-wielding machine, marked his body as the underlying flesh and blood became exposed throughs cuts across fabric and skin.

 

A twisted pleasure he drew out of it, that creature that lay there...

 

His own voice tempered by pain, screeched as it spoke out its first words of this new life, "John is dead. There is only Darth Prodiferous."

 

In a ravaging display of the force, the shackles binding the formerly deceased Sith to this bed shattered and the machine above his torso was hurled onto the crumpling body of the fearful Imperial, Sate An.

 

The new body, already battered, turned through blistering skin and blood-drenched attire, unto the Bounty Hunter, destroying his gun through mere instincts of the Force. The body of Sate An, unconscious for the moment was hurled much akin to a doll undergoing its Master's ravenous temper tantrum into the far wall, where its neck was severed and its limbs lay sprawled. In one final motion of the Sith's hand, the body was pulled into the air and then as if caught in the hand of Hell, the body was crushed into itself. The heart exploding, the rib cage shattering, the lungs cut by the splinters from the ribs, the stomach and intestinal tracts releasing their vile acids... burning through the skin. Blood seeping from all manners of openings on the body; eyes, ears, mouth, nose, genitalia... to the very pores of his ruptured skin. All in one violent, graphic demonstration of gruesome betrayal.

 

The broken form letting its eyes fall on Tekkan... "A yellow glow set deep within them. Mr. Bounty Hunter, be not afraid... yet. Where is Emperor Akturus?"

Heathen Master of the Lords of Hate

KR: I'm like the freakin' Martha Stewart of Chaos.

 

He was also a Marxist, which is dumb.
Link to comment
Share on other sites

One of the Kaminoan cloners steps forth from the shadows, blood trickling from her head, and hands visibly shaking.

 

"The Emperor would have left Foy for the Sith Order's world by now."

 

The Kaminoan pauses.

 

"The Emperor wishes for you to join him there. Apparently, you are to help him dispose of the Sith..."

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Prodiferous' eyes fell on the Kaminoan, whose visible shaking only spoke a morsel of the tall and elegant figure's mindset.

 

Death, weakling, is too good for you. Live with the fears that make your soul tremble... the fear, that I may leave today, but I shall return if only to take your life.

 

The ill clad reborn-Sith, called for his weapons, casually resting on a medicomputer and he adorned them on his black belt. His boots stained with the blood of Sate An...

 

He dismissed Tekkan and walked onwards towards a docking facility, stealing a poorly-maintained shuttle.

 

The engines revved up and the Traitor flew off into the abyss of space, his destination known to only those who knew of what was about to commence...

Heathen Master of the Lords of Hate

KR: I'm like the freakin' Martha Stewart of Chaos.

 

He was also a Marxist, which is dumb.
Link to comment
Share on other sites

"Let's get this done"

 

With a blank expression and focused eyes, the Hunter followed the Kaminoan to the specified cloning station. With but a single strand of DNA, an entire army would be born.

The Bounty Hunting world's one man scourge

TekkanRaas.jpg

So between the flowers and steak I'm saying "I kill stuff for you. Please like me."
Link to comment
Share on other sites

With a quizzical look on his face, Tekkan Raas did as the Kaminoan asked, approaching the table and removing his black trenchcoat as he did. Tossing it to the side he climbed up onto the table and laid on his back, the feeling of dried blood against his skin making him more then slightly uncomfortable.

 

"Be gentle," he said with a cocky smile, "it's my first time."

The Bounty Hunting world's one man scourge

TekkanRaas.jpg

So between the flowers and steak I'm saying "I kill stuff for you. Please like me."
Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 8 months later...

The air above Kamino's cloning facility squealed as four positional thrusters angled down to slow the Nostalgic Requiems decent. The squeal became a lower pitch as the flames shifted from green to bight orange. The ship's landing gear touched the ground softly and the ramp lowered quickly there after to allow the two gentle men to walk through the heavy rain fall toward the facilities doorway.

 

Not a drop of water touched Reo's hair as a personal shield generator flared up forming a bubble of dryness around him.

I am a Hunter. Those who are witches are my prey. - Witch Hunter Robin

Nostalgic - A bittersweet longing for things, persons, or situations of the past.

Requiem - A hymn, composition, or service for the dead.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Nickolaus watched as Reo's bubble of protection appeared around him while he walked through the rain. He finished up imputing his data into the sonic resonance chamber.

 

He walked out case in hand and walked along side Reo through the rain. He liked the feeling of the weather on his skin it reminded him of home and of his own humanity and of the reality that must be shown to those around them. He flipped his head back so as to toss his hair out of his face and felt it slap on the back of his coat as he walked. As they reached the inside he set his case down and put his hair into a pony tail to keep it from being in his line of sight. Then he took in his surroundings.

 

"You have been keeping interesting company brother," he said looking around at the structure.

 

"How is it you never spoke of this place in any of our correspondence? Perhaps our other missionaries would benefit from the knowledge that they could continue their work long into the future. What do you think?"

 

Nickolaus picked up his case again and started walking forward.

Kill them all let God sort them out.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Most of the others have already been informed; right now this is me informing you.

 

The inside of the structure had a clean lab like appearance as they walked inside. Reo showed a winding path that led to a large chair sitting in the center. He leaped into it, causing it to activate. It drew a vial of blood, scraped off a sample of skin and plucked a few hairs. It then cleaned the puncture wound and sprayed a sealing solution on the area where the skin had been removed.

 

He removed himself from the chair and looked toward his teacher.

I am a Hunter. Those who are witches are my prey. - Witch Hunter Robin

Nostalgic - A bittersweet longing for things, persons, or situations of the past.

Requiem - A hymn, composition, or service for the dead.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

>>There was no hesitation as Nickolaus let down his hair, took off his coats and rolled his black shirt up and sat down to let machine do its work. Perhaps his ears were play trick on him but he could swear that he heard a person or an entity of some sort quietly moving around. Perhaps out of instinct or perhaps just being in the field again and being out of practice made him jumpy; whatever the reason his free hand was on one of his pistols as smoothly as if he were just brushing a strand of hair from his face. The safety was off and his hand rested on his weapon, but he had not pulled it out. He would not do so until he was sure that he had heard something.

 

There are plenty of things to be enemies with but only one was a necessary enemy in his eyes every thing else was just the path of nature and self preservation. For the moment he listened intently and watched the door way. Had Reo heard movement? Nickolaus' eyes did not move from the door way nor did his hand move from his gun. The machine finished its job and Nickolaus removed himself from the chair and unrolled his sleeve, straightened out his shirt, replaced his suit jacket and just as quickly he had his over coat on and his hair back in a pony tail. He was ready now and dressed. His hand went back on his gun and he waited for either and adversary or a sign that all was clear so that he may put his gun back on safety.

Kill them all let God sort them out.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Reo nodded as Nick finished suiting up. Then he walked back out of the chamber. One of the local creatures was in the hallway performing its daily duties. It looked up as he was walking up to it and nodded.

 

Your business is always appreciated sir.

 

It then returned to it's duties as Sharteas gave a curt shift of his head back and continued on. He walked through the facility like he owned it and entered the rain storm once more heading toward the docking platform. The rain hissed against as it tried to find a breach in his invisible armor, though all its effort was in vain. As he approached the loading ramp lowered and touched the ground at the exact second that his foot came in contact with it.

 

Nostalgic Requiem whined as it shifted the thrusters toward the ground, a faint orange glow was starting to build as the turbines rotated.

I am a Hunter. Those who are witches are my prey. - Witch Hunter Robin

Nostalgic - A bittersweet longing for things, persons, or situations of the past.

Requiem - A hymn, composition, or service for the dead.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

>>Nickolaus put the safety back on and picked up his case. Took note of his surroundings and of the creature as he walked out. He nodded politely as he walked away. Entering the rain he felt his grip on reality again. This is not that place. Get a grip on yourself Nickolaus keep your mind solid there are too many of the enemy to give them ground so easily. He continued to think as the rain dripped down his face. He walked up on the plat form and into the ship. He took his over coat off to dry as the door shut and the ship started to lift off. Nickolaus sat half expecting questions from his x-student who was now his better if for nothing else because his mind was not as clouded. Nickolaus had been envious for not being able to charge into battle with his brother and share in his victory. The fact that he had sinned by being envious was always a blight on his conscious.

 

"Forgive me brother..." he shifted uncomfortably for a moment before regaining his composure. "I have much to learn from you." The humility in his voice was uncommon and uncomfortable for him at best.

Kill them all let God sort them out.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Reo shifted to his left as he toggled a few switches bring the ramp closed and engaging the thrust on the craft. Bright orange erupted, propelling the ship up in a smooth arc. At the climax of which the flames changed to green and the thrusters locked back into the swept back position. Not even the heavy rain could slow its magnificent assent into space.

 

Everything that I am is what you showed me. You already know everything you need to become like me. However you are not me. Thus you must be who you are and pray that the plans of his holy might guides your unshakable vengeance towards the great here after.

 

The atmosphere gave a feeble attempt to slow Nostalgic Requiem in its climb and was in no way rewarded for its efforts as the ship just pushed through a lit like a fireball.

I am a Hunter. Those who are witches are my prey. - Witch Hunter Robin

Nostalgic - A bittersweet longing for things, persons, or situations of the past.

Requiem - A hymn, composition, or service for the dead.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

>>Reo's words seemed to give comfort to Nickolaus. He watched the change of color of the sky as it gave way to stars and he felt them start to break free of the atmosphere. Kind words I know he means well not to blatantly make me feel inferior. Though I know I am but a shadow of the man I once was. He is right I must guide my vengeance those that deserve it.

 

"Do you know of a place I can start to work on an idea for a gun that I have."

 

He slid a data disk to him with blue prints of an organic based weapon that used a type of seed for ammo that can be quickly grown in any environment and will expand into long shafts likened unto a spear on contact with oxygen. Multiple seeds could be placed into the round to give it a scatter effect and it could travel at the same speed as a blast of his pistols perhaps faster.

 

"I need your help in making my idea come true."

Kill them all let God sort them out.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

Sharteas glanced at the weapon read outs and looked at Nick.

 

I assume you have been out of contact with Mother for quite some time. That design is already in production. It uses the crust of our planet. Just as this ship uses that soil for energy. I remember you teaching a class on the potential properties of the Mother in such regards when you placed a pebble of it into that chemical formula that is the same as most terra formed planets. I believe they took your idea and formulated the device to deliver it. It's called the Nichen spear.

 

The ship leaped into hyperspace heading for its next destination.

I am a Hunter. Those who are witches are my prey. - Witch Hunter Robin

Nostalgic - A bittersweet longing for things, persons, or situations of the past.

Requiem - A hymn, composition, or service for the dead.

Link to comment
Share on other sites

  • 1 month later...

A single black A-Wing hauled over across the planet's dark skies, carening downwards at a tight angle that was only furthur enhanced by the overthrusts intiated by his brash piloting skills. The black plated A-Wing was nimble in design to keep up with the young man's tedious jerking motions in a series of wild twists and turns, while the armor plating and shield capacitors were tweaked enough to handle such extreme conditions.

 

The ocean below loomed over the landscape as he made headway into the central city core that stood above the vast unforgiving waters that seemed to constantly barrage the very pillars that held the capital up. By intelligent design, the waves that beated upon the pillars did little to nothing to give way, giving a feel already for how these Kaminos worked.

 

Addressing himself through the communication link on hand, the young man piloted down into Tipoca city's many open hangars. Rain seemed to be unforgiving as the waves below, beating down on him hard as he quickly exited the ship and rushed inside a large round building.

 

"Whew," He'd say in a very exasperated manner, hands clinging around the leather bound book that he kept dry within his flexible chestplate armor, "What a time for rain."

 

Shaking his head side to side, the black cape now soaked to the core as he strode furthur into the city. Inside, the atmosphere was peaceful, more harmonic then the intensity that was just beyond the buildings protection. Setting his weary form on one of the vacant benches, he'd slowly begin to doze off, having need of rest to be in the best of shape for when his Master would arrive.

 

Until then, he slept, and hoped it would be a while.

Oblivion.jpg

”œAll worlds begin in darkness. In darkness, all worlds shall end.”

Link to comment
Share on other sites

::Dagon arrived some time after Tethyn, having taken the time to see that his lab was in order and secure before departing. He located the apprentice in one of the Kaminoan settlements, sleeping on a bench. Dagon kicked the bench lightly to rouse him without killing him and the two set off to continue their work.::

 

I know you have misgivings about having left Naboo, but we have plans for that planet, so we must make the Jedi think that it was nothing more than a brief visit. As an alchemist you will learn that power, true power is a trap that enslaves the ambitious and destroys the strong. Survival in our world requires a different set of virtues, control, patience, cunning, and humility. I know this may come as a shock to you, to hear a Sith speak of humility, but the warriors of our order are powerful fools, and as such are a danger to arrogant men. Control your desire for power, patiently observe those around you, impress them with your cunning, and earn their trust with your humility. Do this, and you will serve under many lords, for it is our way to make war upon each other. The more powerful you become, the more you die.

 

The slaves have been diverted from Naboo and are headed here, oversee the construction of the lab topside before we lower it into the ocean. I'll be furthering my own studies in the mean time. Do not fail me.

 

::Dagon left the apprentice to his task, seeking out a Kaminoan official to attend to his own needs. After applying influence to the situation, he was given access and directions to a clone training facility. For the most part it was empty, orders for clone armies were rare, more often governments commisioned small batches of special troops. Dagon stopped at a firing range. Despite millenia of history behind the order, nothing like this had ever been done before. His right thumb flicked open the holster strap and he drew the pistol in a smooth motion, training it on the target. Breaking his focus, he examined the weapon closer, having not had enough time to give it a thorough lookover after completion at Naboo. The lines of the weapon were elegant yet practical, and the craftsmanship was sturdy. The pistol was lightweight and balanced, it felt right in his hand. He took in every line, every angle of the weapon, because his intimacy with this tool would determine his survival. His ambitions, his plans, his dreams all relied on this device, it was in essence the temple of his soul.

 

Focused, he took aim and began to fire...::

MGw9G2u.jpg

Link to comment
Share on other sites

×
×
  • Create New...