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Author	Topic: Tarfang and the City of Lost Jedi
Robimus Registered: Jul '07	Date Posted: 7/30/08 10:25am Subject: Tarfang and the City of Lost Jedi - Date Edited: 7/30/08 10:36am (2 edits total) Edited By: Robimus
	Title: Tarfang and the City of Lost Jedi Author: Robimus Timeframe: 43 ABY Characters: Tarfang, Jae Juun, Baltan Carid, Natasi Daala, Kyp Durron + Locations: Corucant, Mandalore+ Genre: A little of this, a little of that Mando words: Buir=Father Aruetiise=foreigner Osik'la=Screwed up Kad=Sword Keldabe=Principle City of Mandalore Notes: Hello. Have been shooting this story around in my head since I finished Invincible, and have finally found the time to start it off. A special thanks to Ceillean for giving my early draft a once over for me. Thanks Cei! . Just a little disclaimer about the Prologue: This is my first attempt at mush and I've tried to keep everything tasteful. I hope I've succeeded but be warned Daala's bedroom has a lot of heat to it and I will edit if the Moderation team feels I've crossed any lines. And yes it wasn't easy for a woman loving guy to write this first installment , but I enjoyed it none the less. I still don't think I'll be reading any romance novels anytime soon though . I hope you all enjoy it! Tarfang and the city of lost Jedi Prologue Natasi Daala was lounging, gazing down upon the billions of lights adorning the millions of speeders zipping back and forth across Coruscant’s night sky. They made a tapestry as vivid as any art, as enchanting as any natural wonder. From her balcony she could see the display in its entire splendor every night. Beautiful and completely translucent, the balcony allowed her an incredible view of the city below. Without the enclosed design she would not be able to enjoy such a view as the atmosphere several miles above the planet could not support human life. “I’m on top of the world,” she said quietly, smiling to herself. Her long Amber hair was hanging down gently over her shoulders, sliding easily against her black, silk nightgown. With her hair newly colored she felt like a much younger woman. Even she couldn’t believe looking in the mirror that she had first joined the Imperial Academy on Carida over five decades ago. The front of her sleek nightgown hung nearly open, plunging from her neck down, as she leaned back in her chair with her legs crossed. Natasi had to admit that she felt like she was sitting on air, levitating on the balcony, yet another element of the universe she had gained mastery over. Throwing her head back, her hair slid softly off her shoulders as she laughed out loud, something she’d rarely done in her life. How had she gotten here? It wasn’t that she didn’t feel deserving of her new post, she knew she was. It was the irony of the situation that amused her the most. She was now the head political figure of a government she once sought to destroy. Fate had weaved its strange magic and she’d landed on her feet as always, defying the experts and critics and once again proving to herself that anything was possible. The universe had played into her hands, like an over eager lover blinded by trust and desire. If only Liegeus was here to share the moment with her. He couldn’t be of course, her former lover was long deceased and she still wore an eye patch as a reminder of the treachery that took his life. Glancing back into her quarters she felt a twinge of guilt for just a second, thinking of the naked man sleeping peacefully in her bed. He wasn’t Liegeus, he and the others could never be, she would never love another man in that way in her life. Life went on and desires needed to be met, but nothing was about love anymore. Nothing ever would be again. Natasi’s bed was not very often void of male company, and she’d long ago mastered the art involved with pleasing not only herself but also those men fortunate enough to find their way into her sleeping chamber. She loved their company, and even in her sixties, though she didn’t look her age, she still had no trouble convincing men with half her birthdays, to join her under the sheets. A thin smile crossed her face, most of the men she wanted she got. Whoever came up with the notion that woman were the weaker sex did not know Natasi Daala. Ryn networks, Imperial probe droids, covert operatives and the like all served their purposes well, but when they didn’t she had additional means available to learn what she wanted to know. She was beautiful, intelligent and dominant, a combination few men could resist. It was almost too easy at times, but in a galaxy filled with every type of being in creation, one had to use every skill they had. She would never feel bad for using all the abilities she possessed in reaching her goals. In those instances where merit and fairness failed, a heat filled night and head to toe attention helped most men make the right choice. The Jedi had the Force, but really Natasi thought her own skills were just as powerful in their own, special way. Sometimes even none humans would fall to her charms, as Admiral Nek Bwuat’tu had found out not all that long ago. Securing her post as Galactic Alliance Chief of State had taken a simple knowledge of the anatomy of the males of the Bothan race. She admitted to herself that she probably hadn’t needed to go that far, but she was very certain it had helped the process along to a great degree. And while the Bothan experience had proven interesting, it wasn’t something she planned on indulging in again anytime soon. Memories of her many sexual conquests were not what was keeping her up this night though, no matter how much she enjoyed revisiting them. She had received an intelligence report earlier in the day of an archaeological discovery out past Endor in the outerrim. Apparently the ruins of an ancient civilization had been unearthed, ancient lightsabers found in a burial chamber hinted that this discovery would be something the Jedi could be very interested in. Natasi Daala wished to ensure that there was no Jedi involvement for those same reasons. Ancient Jedi toys had a knack of causing massive problems for the common people of the galaxy, the people she was now sworn to protect. Be they Holocrons containing ancient wisdom, or Meditation Spheres touting the so called dark side of the Force. It was all the same to her. One was equal to the other, and none of them had any place in her galaxy. In reviewing the documented history of the New Jedi Order she’d uncovered many instances where the discovery of such ancient trinkets’ lead directly to chaos. Be it in the form of released long dead spirits, or ceremonial masks twisting the wearers mind. Artifacts infused with the Force were bad for everyone and needed to be under tight government control, if not destroyed outright. So far she hadn’t been able to gain the political strength to completely outlaw the Jedi, but she would keep maneuvering. She had even briefly considered trying to seduce Luke Skywalker himself for her own ends. Maybe he was lonely without his dear Mara, needing someone to wrap her arms around him and make him forget his problems for a night or two. She had to admit the thought was intriguing, but of all the people in the galaxy Luke Skywalker was one of very few who actually intimidated her. Though she had yet to meet a man she couldn’t manipulate the thought of failure was likely all that was holding her back from making a try at the Jedi Grand Master. Perhaps one day the opportunity would present itself…….. “What are you doing out here,” a rough, weary male voice spoke from behind her. He quietly wrapped his arm around her from behind and slowly slid a calloused hand under her delicate silk robe. Her neck was being showered with kisses as his hand found a sensitive area on her upper body very quickly. Daala didn’t give the man the satisfaction of a reaction, make him work for it, she thought with a slight smile on her lips. “Just thinking my Maldalorian protector,” she spoke softly, “about a great many things. For instance, I often wonder about what Fett might do to you if he found out you are sharing my bed. I think he wanted that honor for himself. I wouldn’t want my Mando’s fighting over me.” “Fett’s been osik’la since he got his wife back,” the man answered beginning to nibble on her neck. “His Kad isn’t quite as big as mine anyway, Natasi. That happens when you get as old as he is.” “He’d take your Kad from you if he heard you talking like that, Murdrik,” Daala teased. “Don’t under estimate him; he’s still one of the most dangerous men in the galaxy.” “He is Mandalore,” Murdrik answered making his way around the front toward the front of the chair, his hand still working beneath her robe. “I am loyal, but under no delusions about what he can or cannot take from me. He is old, wise, but not the equal of a Mando warrior in his prime.” Daala giggled slightly as she took hold of an area that made the huge Mandalorian wince and loose his concentration, dropping him to one knee as she twisted and squeezed. His progression around the chair had left him somewhat exposed. “Yes, a mighty Mandalorian you are, dear Mur. I see that now.” After a deep, uncontrolled groan and taking a moment to regain his composure, Murdrik continued his seduction with Daala releasing her grip. “I never claimed to be able to handle you, my beautiful Natasi. But Fett would never get a hold of me with my pants off.” “So you say,” Daala chided softly. “Be careful of Beviin though, mighty warrior. I understand he is very persuasive.” “Your humor is lacking tonight, beautiful aruetiise. Don’t think yourself an expert on my people because you’ve picked up a word or two. Goran is like a buir to me, I won’t have him disrespected by anyone.” Daala would not apologize, she never did that. But her silence was telling, as was the fact that Murdrik had briefly stopped giving her his attention, and was staring deeply into her face with his sharp, cobalt eyes. He couldn’t intimidate her, but that never stopped him from trying. She’d hit a nerve of sorts and would file it for later use. Manipulation came in many forms and she was a master of the art. “You know you’re naked out here for the whole galaxy to see, Mur? I can see the holonews tomorrow morning now, even without an inane Jedi vision. Daala’s secret lover, update at midday. Fett would know then for certain.” “Let the universe know,” he growled. “Anyway, you know as well as I do that no one can see in through the canopy, only we can see out. I could do whatever I want to you and there would be no witnesses,” Mur teased. “You’re not the only one who can play at these domination games, Madame Admiral, though your fearlessness is very, very sexy.” “But isn’t this a lot more adventurous thinking that the whole galaxy might be watching?” Daala gracefully rose from her chair and moved around the man, trailing her fingers against his muscular chest before shoving him down into the chair. “Anyway, I have a pressing question to ask before we begin,” she said settling herself over his lap, but not yet leaning against him. “I have a delicate mission for someone in the outerrim, something the Jedi can have no knowledge of. I already have two agents in mind, but would like to add some muscle to the team. I need someone who dislikes the Jedi, someone who would never give them any information under any circumstances. Someone loyal to you, who wasn’t taken in by Jaina Solo’s charms during her recent vacation in Keldabe. The Jedi simply must not know of this mission.” Taking a moment to look away in thought he quickly came up with an answer. One man would be perfect for the job. “Carid is your man. Baltan Carid. He’s as tough as they come; I believe you met him on the Bloodfin. He has absolute contempt for the Jedi.” “I like him already,” Daala mused settling herself down slowly onto the commander of her Mandalorian security team. He groaned slightly as she betrayed no emotion, make him work for it, she mused with a lopsided smile, her amber hair cascading down against Murdrik’s chest and carved stomach. She ran her hands through his medium length, ebon shaded hair, scraping her amber colored nails seductivly against his scalp as she went. Shortly thereafter Natasi Daala began to loosen up a bit, allowing her thoughts of State to melt away into an ocean of pleasure. -----signature----- I am forever seeking the damutek of Hooley Krekk Oh, woe! Oh, misery! Oh, unhappiness. Hooley Krekk where are you?
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Ceillean Registered: Nov '01	Date Posted: 7/30/08 11:40am Subject: RE: Tarfang and the City of Lost Jedi
	Isn't Tarfang that little Ewok Dude? Yay, it's up! As I've said before, I really like your Daala. I'm wondering how Kyp fits in the picture though? And will he meet Daala? The way you've portraid Daala is really good. She has a touch of darkness. And the mush? Yeah, mesa loves mush. -----signature----- "The Queen of Kyp has delivered again " -- Robimus I'm having trouble dealing with the fact that Kyp Durron is a fictional character. http://ceillean.blogspot.com/ http://www.myspace.com/ceillean
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Robimus Registered: Jul '07	Date Posted: 8/25/08 4:15am Subject: RE: Tarfang and the City of Lost Jedi - Date Edited: 8/25/08 4:38am (2 edits total) Edited By: Robimus
	Thanks again for the pre-read Cei Yay, it's up! As I've said before, I really like your Daala. I'm wondering how Kyp fits in the picture though? And will he meet Daala? I'm glad you liked my Daala incarnation. I've always veiwed her as a very, um, dominate personality, driven almost to the point of pure Evil. Kyp will be causing trouble in the near future I'm sure I've actually never written Kyp before(why, I don't know? He is a favorite of mine ), so I hope I'm up to the challenge The way you've portraid Daala is really good. She has a touch of darkness. And the mush? Yeah, mesa loves mush. More there will be...maybe. I think Daala likes to keep her personal Mando on a short leash, and probably finds it easiest to manipulate him in that fashion. . And of course the story is now ballooning, taking on a life all its own, as my ideas seem to always do. "Never his mind on where he was, what he was doing "....Yes, Master Yoda, I know..... Thanks for reading! -----signature----- I am forever seeking the damutek of Hooley Krekk Oh, woe! Oh, misery! Oh, unhappiness. Hooley Krekk where are you?
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Robimus Registered: Jul '07	Date Posted: 8/25/08 4:24am Subject: RE: Tarfang and the City of Lost Jedi
	Tarfang and the City of Lost Jedi Mandalore The boxy, rectangular freighter XRX-2000 reverted from hyperspace with a slight shudder, its rear overhead wings wobbling. A cockpit alarm began a muffled bleep accented by a flashing red, overhead light to warn of the danger. The freighter pilot neatly flipped a couple of switches and the noise and lights vanished as quickly as they began, much to his relief. Growing in the veiwscreen was the planet of Mandalore, a world of trees, sand and granite, still recovering from the war with the Yuuzhan Vong. The Mandalorians were attempting to make something of their damaged world in recent years, mining the extremely durable metal Beskar. The metal was used as an export for the construction of armor, and as plating on the Verpine engineered Bes’uliik snubfighters being sold to the Galactic Alliance and other distinguished customers. “The inertial compensators still need work,” Captain Jae Juun frowned checking an error report generated by the XRX’s computer system. “I thought you said you had those fixed, Tarfang?” The diminutive, black haired Ewok growled a sharp response, and muttered a long, run on answer which ended with him baring his teeth in the Captain’s direction. The co-pilot’s chair was far too large for his squat frame, and the controls far away for his short arms, but that didn’t stop him from trying to look like he belonged at the post. “Well, I see our recent promotion hasn’t improved your demeanor any,” Jae Juun calmly responded. Years of travelling the galaxy with Tarfang had made him almost immune to the little creature’s bad attitude and violent temper. “You know very well that I’m far too busy to be able to take the time to maintain the ship myself. The Galactic Alliance has crews that can do the routine maintenance for us, but you stubbornly insist not to let them onboard. After that last incident I don’t blame them for avoiding you either.” Tarfang smiled smugly and barked a brief response, thrusting his fist up and down triumphantly before finishing with a measured, sharp chuckle. He waited with his arms crossed indignantly over his bandoleer for an answer. So far as he was concerned this was his ship, and nobody better mess with his ship. He’d spent countless hours not only working on the XRX’s systems but decorating as well. The seats were now all covered in Rancor leather, and many of the walls were covered with animal hides to give it a homier, Endor like feel. Tarfang viewed anyone coming aboard his ship as potential trouble. Unwanted visitors might well try to steal some of his prized possessions, or discover his private collection of obscure and highly illegal weapons. He had even painted an Ewok blood curse on the XRX’s boarding ramp, promising misfortune and death to any who entered the ship without permission. Of course the red scribbling had little meaning to anyone that didn’t originate on Endor, but the sentiment still comforted him. “No, I don’t think you should be so proud of having taken a bite out of that technician’s leg,” the wide eared Sullustan answered indifferently. “He was only trying to help, you know. Your ego getting bigger than the moon you came from. I thought you would get better after getting those death marks lifted.” Tarfang nodded his head in a back and forth in affirmation of his own actions. As far as he was concerned nobody better ever mess with him, and those who did usually suffered the consequences. He actually didn’t want to get his death marks lifted, but Daala had insisted and cleared his name. The Ewok took a lot of pride in his actions, and it didn’t matter if it was Jedi Knights, Killiks or Wookies, nobody was going to give him any grief. Jae Juun seemed the only exception to Tarfang’s personal code of conduct and behavior, and was probably his only friend. If Tarfang had one admirable trait it was his loyalty, first to Jae Juun then to the Galactic Alliance. That was what had first drawn Jae Juun to him, and what kept their partnership intact. Jae knew that Tarfang had his back no matter what happened, and he in turn would always support Ewok no matter the situation. It’s what friends did for each other, so far as Jae was concerned. Friends were the most important thing in the galaxy to the Sullustan, hoisting Tarfang onto something of a pedestal in Jae’s mind. “Keldabe control, this is the freighter Crossfire,” Jae Juun keyed up the communication array and began transmitting. “Keldabe control, do you copy? This is the freighter Crossfire, clearance sequence cuir, ehn, lesol, cuir. Please acknowledge?” Tarfang growled and barked an intricate sounding question, ending with another mischievous chuckle. The Ewok tilted his head and scratched his chin, chewing on his lower lip slightly. “Well, that’s the code Admiral Daala told me to memorize,” Jae answered calmly, “Of course my Mandalorian isn’t very good, but it’s still much better than your galactic basic, Tarfang. I’m glad you find me so amusing.” “Yub, yub,” Tarfang responded almost cheerfully, adding that he’d taken the time to learn a Mandalorian word or two himself with a playful growl. Just the words he’d find most useful, he thought, grinning to himself as he turned his attention back to his co-piloting duties. “Crossfire, hold your present course and await your escort,” a rough male voice answered after a few moments prompting Jae to nod to himself. “Deviate from your escort and you will be destroyed, aruetiise.” “Copy that, Keldabe,” Jae leaned forward and responded, now catching sight of an approaching vessel from the forward viewport. It was a hulking mass of weapons only vaguely resembling a star ship of any kind. The Mandalorians called the ship class Tra’kad which translated roughly to StarSaber in their ancient language. Jae had seen holo’s of the starships in the Galactic Alliance mainframe while preparing for the mission, and knew that they were a fearsome ship, misshaped appearances aside. The flying Mandalorian tank circled around the XRX and settled out a couple hundred meters off her bow. Communications silence followed as the freighter was lead into the upper atmosphere of Mandalore. Keldabe was what would be termed the capital city of Mandalore by outsiders, but the Mandalorians had no use for such titles. The city looked ancient, even obsolete by most galactic standards, but was about as close as its inhabitants got to organized civilization. Odd sparkle from minerals littered amongst the dull colors of the granite architecture provided nearly the only brightness in the otherwise dull settlement. As well, a bright, almost monstrous red eye glowing from the animal skull logo hoisted high on the MandalMotors tower gave the city an almost sinister feel. MandalMotors was Keldabe in a practical sense, the city sprouting out around Mandalore’s chief industry and employer. Jae Juun could not even spot a spaceport, or pick up any landing beacon to direct the XRX’s decent. Puzzled, he double checked his instruments, “Keldabe Control, I believe your landing markers are malfunctioning, please advise.” “No landing markers, aruetiise,” the Keldabe controller responded with a grunt. “Pick a pretty spot, set your ship down, hopefully she won’t get too dirty,” he laughed. “An escort will meet you at your landing site; to proceed without is to not guarantee your safety, understood Captain?” “Understood,” Jae responded aiming the freighter toward an almost empty field just outside the city where a couple other ships were settled. It was an overcast sky over the city, part cloud cover, part pollution from MandalMotors dozens huge chimneys rising from their factories. A light drizzle was beginning to form as moisture on the XRX’s forward viewport. Jae settled the ship down expertly, relying on his sensors to pick a clear spot. With a thump and a hiss the freighter settled onto the ground with the engines venting steam clouds, attempting to cool. Tarfang quickly unstrapped himself from his safety belts and bolted out of the cockpit excitedly, mumbling about needing time to select which weapons he’d need to bring with him. The wait for an escort wasn’t long. A lone female Mandalorian in full armor approached their ship immediately, awaiting the XRX’s underbelly boarding ramp to finish lowering. Her blaster rifle rested, cradled almost like a child in her arms, her armor a mixture of orange and brown metal plating. The expression radiated by her t-visor helmet was as harsh and cool as the weather. Jae Juun started down the ramp just as it settled on the hard, clay like ground of the landing zone. He silently reminded himself to clean Tarfang’s bloodstained attempt at a curse off the ramp when they got back to Coruscant. Jae walked with his thumbs tucked in his belt holes, a high powered DL-44 Blastech hanging holstered along his right leg. Nodding toward the Mandalorian woman he glanced back wondering what exactly was keeping Tarfang. He didn’t need to wonder for long. Tarfang appeared quickly, wearing his tan headgear, bandoleer and carrying a modified, half sized electro pike in his left paw. He hurried down the ramp after Jae, almost tripping near the bottom. With a grumble he regained his balance with aid of his pike and stared up indignantly at the escort. “Mandalore welcomes respectful aruetiise and their credits here in Keldabe. We have few laws here, be respectful, mind yourself and you’ll be very likely to leave Mandalore in the manner which you arrived,” she warned. “Cross us like a dush chakaaryc, and you’ll die like one. Understood?” “Well, hello to you as well,” Jae responded with a genuine smile. “Could you please direct us to the Oyu’baat tapcaf please? We have a meeting scheduled with one Baltan Carid. He is expecting us.” The Mandalorian escort looked first at Jae, then down at Tarfang who barked at her threateningly. “Doesn’t look like Carid would have much use for you two, and he doesn’t like being disturbed. Tell me and I’ll relay the message for you. We’ll both be saved the time and trouble.” Jae smiled shyly, trying for charm, holding the woman’s gaze calmly. “I’m afraid that’s simply not possible, but thank you for the offer. We must talk to Carid personally, no one else will do. It is a matter of great importance.” Tarfang added his displeasure with a series of hoots and growls, brandishing his pike toward the woman. “Very well, you have been warned,” the woman answered with a hint of satisfaction in her voice. “My name is Meshla, if anyone asks you are with me. Oyu’baat is a slight walk and Keldabe is a restless town, so do keep up.” -----signature----- I am forever seeking the damutek of Hooley Krekk Oh, woe! Oh, misery! Oh, unhappiness. Hooley Krekk where are you?
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Ceillean Registered: Nov '01	Date Posted: 8/25/08 12:38pm Subject: RE: Tarfang and the City of Lost Jedi
	You know, Tarfang -- as an Ewok -- is really short. Someone should step on him. It's amazing how much patience and endurance Jae has to deal with him. I'd've shot him. Twice. Wonderfulg update, Rob! I wonder what's waiting for them in the tapcaf? And I really liked Carid in the books so I'm hoping for more soon. And now off to read "Remnant". Sorry for the delay. Again. -----signature----- "The Queen of Kyp has delivered again " -- Robimus I'm having trouble dealing with the fact that Kyp Durron is a fictional character. http://ceillean.blogspot.com/ http://www.myspace.com/ceillean
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Robimus Registered: Jul '07	Date Posted: 10/6/08 11:31pm Subject: RE: Tarfang and the City of Lost Jedi - Date Edited: 10/6/08 11:39pm (2 edits total) Edited By: Robimus
	Mandalore Part II “Carid, you hut’uun,” a huge monster of a man bellowed from outside the Oyu’baat tapcaf. The inside of the cantina went silent as all eyes turned toward Baltan Carid. He was seated at the bar with a frothing mug of dark ale in hand. “Come out here you, sharal di’kut! I told you to mind your business and stay away from my ad. Now she’s devastated, and your gonna be! Now get your shebs out here now or I’m gonna rip this whole drinking shanty down on yer’ head!” Of everyone in the tapcaf Baltan Carid perhaps seemed the least concerned with the commotion. He calmly took another drink from his mug and looked toward the barkeep with a twinkle in his eye. “I think the behot is really kicking in. I seem to be hearing things, like hallucinations for the ears. No one would call out Baltan Carid, no one is that stupid. No one…..” He laughed out loud before taking another drink and slamming the mug down on the bar beside his helmet. A muted chuckle had murmured through the tapcaf, filled with apprehension and worry for what was possibly coming next. Both men had fierce reputations and no one was likely to intervene should the confrontation get physical. “Aye, “the old Mando barkeep nodded wiping a glass. “Sounds like ‘no one’ be Rakiss Medillon, to me. Sounds like he’s got his ire up too, maybe you should go out and see what he wants.” “Mind your business barkeep,” Carid hissed. “If he’s so excited to get me, let him come in and do it.” Baltan crossed his arms defiantly over the dark blue and gray armor plates covering his chest while turning on his barstool to face the tapcaf entrance. “Life is hard, barkeep. Buy a helmet.” Carid was an intimidating sight, short white hair with the tattoo of a dark vine starting just under his chin and plunging down his neck below his armor. His eyes were sharp, a piercing, icy blue, both fearsome and intelligent. His many harsh and striking features made more than a few comment that he looked more frightening with his helmet off than on “Opening that shabla door might be the last thing that great oaf ever does.” The door swung open causing the occupants of the dim tapcaf to squint their eyes. Rakiss Medillon was an intimidating sight, two solid meters worth of muscle honed by years of shaping beskar over a raging fire. The goran was not a young man, but didn’t seem much the worse for his sixty plus years. His age might have mattered more to Carid if he wasn’t almost that same age himself. “I hope you brought she’eta of your lads, Rakiss,” Baltan growled rising from his barstool. Nothing scared the veteran Mandalorian warrior. He’d done it all at this point of his career. Imperials, Vong, even confronting a wayward Sith Lord was on his impressive resume. Still he had to admit that he hadn’t thought this situation through properly, part due to his intoxication, part due to his bravado. Carid briefly thought of simply pulling his sidearm and dropping the man where he stood, of course he could then say good bye to Manda’yaim, exiled for cowardice, if he escaped at all. No, this would be a brawl, one of many the Oyu’baat had seen over its history. Pulling his sidearm he slapped it down on the bar and moved to meet his accuser. Rakiss adjusted several rings the size of a small woman’s bracelet and started forward, slapping a table from his path as every other patron cleared to the perimeter of the tapcaf. Bald and featuring several scars, he’d seen his fair share of confrontation in his lifetime as well, despite having spent nearly his whole life on Mandalore. “Take your issues outside,” the barkeep snapped quickly grabbing as much of the glass wear as he could off of the bar. He knew his words would fall on deaf ears, but tried anyway. Brawling was always a problem with Mandalorians; they were nothing if not predictable. “Ne’johaa,” Carid growled wrapping his right hand around the leg of his barstool. He couldn’t use his blaster, but his honor didn’t stop him from taking advantage of other items within arm’s length. And Carid was beginning to realize he might need all the help he could get against this monster. Rakiss was charging him now, slide-stepping back he raised his barstool and swung it violently as the huge man came into range. Carid couldn’t suppress a slight smile as he realized he was going to hit the big man hard. Maybe this fight wasn’t going to be that bad after all. Raising his trunk like left arm in a defensive, swatting fashion, Rakiss felt the stool shatter against him, breaking into dozens of small splinters. Carid glanced down at what was left of his makeshift weapon, then glanced back up just in time to see the charging man’s huge fist strike the center of his beskar breastplate. Rakiss roared, grabbing at his fist, as Carid flew backward and crashed through a rickety table. Shaking his head he tossed a piece of wood off of himself and struggled back to his feet. “You’re stronger than a bloody Wookiee,” he looked toward the blacksmith trying to steady himself. Amazingly the huge man seemed to have not even broken his hand in the attack and was already recovered, rushing again. Carid ducked one massive blow, then another before landing a sharp elbow alongside the attacker’s jaw. Rakiss stumbled back, but grabbed Carid as he did so and tossed him hard across the room, shattering an assortment of furniture in the process. A jagged splinter cut open Carid’s forehead, and blood began to quickly flow down the left side of his face. Struggling back to his feet he wiped at the wound, trying to keep the blood from flowing into his left eye. It was a futile gesture. “Your tal flows,” Rakiss growled triumphantly starting forward again. “Maybe next time you’ll think twice before ignoring my wishes.” “I’m already thinking twice,” Carid answered avoiding another devastating punch. “But she is a grown woman. She doesn’t need your permission, or you holding her hand anymore.” “You’re a user, hut’uun. Your fame isn’t going to help you now and maybe the next time you use it to dishonor a young lass you’ll think twice,” Rakiss growled bowling over Carid, who almost managed to side step the charge. Suddenly, as if Carid and his beskar’gam were merely the weight of a child, he was lifted off his feet and held out above the big blacksmith’s head. Next he knew, Baltan Carid crashed through the Oyu’baat’s big front window, glass flying in all directions as he tumbled to the ground. Landing with a thud on the street, winded and having trouble focusing he realized he was face down on the cobblestone without the ability or will to move a muscle, briefly unsure how exactly he’d found himself there. Struggling, Carid turned his head back toward the Oyu’baat just in time to watch the barkeep smack Rakiss Medillon hard across the skull with Carid’s own deep blue buy’ce. The huge man instantly collapsed to the floor with the barkeep staring down over him, just inside the Oyu’baat’s entrance. ‘Broke my door, broke my window, broke me furniture, ya mighty lummox,” the barkeep scolded Rakiss before turning his attention to Carid. “And you, I told you to take it outside. Seeing as it’s where you ended up anyway, ya could‘a done me the favor.” With that the barkeep tossed the Mandalorian helmet turned weapon out toward Carid, followed by Carid’s blaster, then turned and stomped back into his bar, swearing such a streak that even some of the Mando’s within were cringing. Flipping onto his back, Baltan took a mental inventory as some of his faculties seemed to be returning to him. Looking up he was startled to see three beings looking down at him, a Mando, a Sullustian and an Ewok of all things. He shook his head figuring Rakiss hit him so hard he was hallucinating, forcing him to see all kinds of strange stuff. “This, Captain Juun, is Baltan Carid,” the female Mando said to the Sullustian. “He was expecting you, but I guess he got a little side tracked.” Tarfang twisted up his lip into a snarl and growled a long group of violent sounding words toward Carid, ending off by spitting on the downed man and stalking away in disgust. “Tarfang is not very impressed with Mr. Carid,” Jae Juun said calmly, watching as Carid struggled to try and rise, only to collapse again. Meshla walked over and stared down at the battered Mandalorian, shaking her head while placing her hands on her hips. Out of his good eye Carid found a moment of clarity, indentifying who it was that was looking at him. “Meshla,” he groaned holding his blood smeared forehead. “Su’cuy, buir,” the female Mandalorian responded with a hint of playfulness in her tone before she moved to help him up. End Chapter 1, thanks for reading A brief guide to Mando'a to follow: Shabla=An impolite adjective Behot=Herbs Sharal=Lazy Hut'uun=Coward Ad=Son or Daughter She'eta=Fifty Tal=Blood Ne'johaa=Shut Up Beskar'gam=Mandalorian Armor Di'kut=Jerk(or a more colorful swear word ) Shebs=Backside or Rear Beskar=Mando Metal Buir=Father Mando'yaim=Mandalore the Planet Goran=Blacksmith/Metal Worker -----signature----- I am forever seeking the damutek of Hooley Krekk Oh, woe! Oh, misery! Oh, unhappiness. Hooley Krekk where are you?
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Ceillean Registered: Nov '01	Date Posted: 10/7/08 9:13am Subject: RE: Tarfang and the City of Lost Jedi
	So Meshla is Carid's daughter, huh? You know the bartender reminded me of a scottish guy. The way he talked and all. Loved the bar brawl. Great update! -----signature----- "The Queen of Kyp has delivered again " -- Robimus I'm having trouble dealing with the fact that Kyp Durron is a fictional character. http://ceillean.blogspot.com/ http://www.myspace.com/ceillean
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Robimus Registered: Jul '07	Date Posted: 11/2/08 6:19pm Subject: RE: Tarfang and the City of Lost Jedi - Date Edited: 11/2/08 6:20pm (2 edits total) Edited By: Robimus
	Thanks Cei I thought having Meshla as Carid's daughter would make for an interesting dynamic. New update is up, featuring a famialiar face or two kinda incogneito It's also an update I was hoping to have up for Halloween, but better late than never. Nal Ennu The Jungle covered world of Nal Ennu, Glorious Wealth in Huttese, was first discovered by the Hutt’s sometime about 200 years before the Battle of Yavin. Little is known about what happened to the first Hutt settlements other than the confirmation of their existence by Imperial Archaeologists nearly a decade after the Clone Wars. The first Imperials to land discovered the ruins of a Hutt palace, and skeletal remains of several underlings presumably employed by whichever Hutt lord decided to call the world his home. Outside of the Hutt palace the Imperials found little of interest. They claimed the world for the Empire but left it otherwise untouched. Not even a token garrison was set up on the planet. It is only in recent years, fueled by the discovery of precious ore, that Nal Ennu has become a real destination for fortune hunters, historians and archeologists. Several settlements have begun to dot the planet’s vast, jungle like surface and mining has begun within vast and largely unexplored underground tunnels. While on the surface several ancient cities of a long lost civilization have been discovered. Studies continue to learn the details of these lost civilizations. -Excerpt from an article meant for the Galactic Museum Library on Coruscant, written by Voren Na’al. With Nal Ennu declared top secret by Chief of State Natasi Daala, Voren saw fit to seek out Jedi Master Tionne Solusar to see that the knowledge was included in the Jedi library on Dagobah, instead of being lost forever in some secret government archive for eternity. Nal Ennu’s lone spaceport was nestled in the heart of the world's largest, mountain side city. It was the center from which the city had begun sprawling some ten years earlier when the first Galactic Alliance exploration base had been established on the world. Quickly the city, named simply Ennu, had grown. The harsh trees and vines making up the endless jungle had been sheared away to make room for modern technology and civilization. Thousands had come to the world in recent years as knowledge of its apparent gifts spread. The chance for wealth and fame was too much for many beings to ignore. Jewelry merchants from around the galaxy had found the many precious stones mined from beneath the planet’s surface irresistible, no matter the cost in credits or employee lives. The world was an untapped source of wealth for the galaxy’s elite and they weren’t going to be shy about using it. It was that luxury industry that drove the local economy, with other beings such as explorers, historians and archeologists filling out much of the remainder of the populace. The city which had begun as little more than a military outpost was now a temporary home to over one hundred thousand beings, the largest settlement on Nal Ennu. Landing pad number eighty seven was where a new arrival, a sleek fifty meter long space yacht, had just set down after a long trip from the core. The dock chief, a young, long faced Duro in a black Galactic Alliance uniform waited impatiently for the yacht’s occupants to make their way out of their ship. His shift was nearly over and the quicker these new arrivals got processed the quicker he’d be on his way home for the evening. Splayed across the side of the elegant vessel was, “Jewels of Kuat”, shadowed underneath by smaller printing, “Purveyors of the finest Gem Stones to over one hundred worlds throughout the Core and beyond.” “More karking jewel thieves,” the Duro hissed under his breath as the yacht’s landing ramp quickly settled on the ground, with a hiss and steam blowing off to its sides. First down the ramp was a gleaming emerald protocol droid, it moved carefully as if on the verge of falling over on the steep incline. The droid reached the ground and came to a stop just before the dock chief, the receptors in its eyes fluttering ever so slightly. “Well, I say, hello there,” the droid greeted the Duro cheerfully waving its hands slightly while speaking. “I am E3PO, attaché to the magnificent and glorious Baron, Korra Doole, owner of the finest chain of fine jewelry boutiques the galaxy has ever seen. If you ever find yourself in need of that special gift for a special someone, do seek out one of Baron Doole’s fine establishments. Mention Nal Ennu and you will receive ten percent off all merchandise purchased. Easy financing is available as well, on approved credit of course. ” The droid nodded and then stepped aside with a slight bow and motioned with its hands as Master Doole started down the Yacht’s ramp with a heavy dose of pomp and swagger. The gray skinned Duro rolled his eyes slightly at the attempted grandeur of the impromptu ceremony. The Baron looked to be possibly more annoying than the droid had already proven. Some overzealous people had come through his dock before, but this was taking the prize. He’d never had anyone announced by their droid before, with or without a sales pitch. Korra Doole looked nothing to special at first glance. He was slender, and of average height for a human male, wearing a dark green business suit trimmed in black with a matching fedora on his head. He walked with his chin held high, long dark brown hair tied back ornately. He looked as if he was constantly looking down his nose toward people through tinted black spectacles, radiating the arrogance and snobbery of wealth and station. The Duro was nearly disgusted. He was sick of dealing with these types on a daily basis, but would try to maintain his composure out of professionalism. Really, had no one ever taught these types some manners before? Doole completed his wardrobe assemblage with a tapered cane topped by a massive, glittering, red stone of some kind. The cane was clearly for ornamental value only as the man had no apparent problems walking, at least from what the dock chief could see. Doole seemed to actually appear very light on his feet, graceful and fluid. The jewel baron stopped just before the dock chief and had a look around the landing area, completely ignoring the fidgeting Duro as if he wasn’t even there. “Well, I was expecting a bit more of a greeting,” Doole scowled finally settling his attention on the dock chief. “I guess you’ll have to do” “Will I,” the Duro snorted before getting on with his job. It was tedious at best, and not very exciting. Where did you come from? What are your plans here? Did you bring any illegal fruits or vegetables? Every menial question was more a mere formality than anything else. Every arrival was pre cleared by Galactic Allaince intelligence at this point, and inspected by the Star Destroyer orbiting the world before making landfall. His job was easy. he guessed he should be thankful, but wasn't. Finished with his questioning, the Dock Chief waved the Jewel Baron and his droid past, welcoming them to Ennu city. “Whatever you do don’t go beyond the city walls after nightfall,” he added lastly as they walked past. It was a warning the dock chiefs were required to give all newcomers now, though the Duro could have cared less if they followed the advice or not, it was his duty to warn them. “A lot of unfortunate tragedies have occurred lately, be warned.” The Jewel Baron simply kept walking away, followed by his droid, ignoring the Dock Chief as the yacht ramp retracted and closed, locking up tight. “Summon me a rickshaw, Dock Hand. I’d hate to have to walk all the way to the Hotel Coruscant. I believe my shoes would be ruined, the ground looks very unkempt.” “Speeder transportation is awaiting you just beyond the gate,” the Duro responded, waving while engrossed in his data pad. “I believe the Governor is awaiting you at the hotel and he sent his personal speeder to take you.” “Very good then,” Doole spun his cane around once and started for the gate, followed by his shambling protocol droid. The Governor’s personal speeder? The thought concerned Doole slightly as he left the spaceport and his ship behind. He hadn’t expected such attention, despite his semi-grand arrival. *************************************************************************** The two fortune hunters struggled and cursed as they stumbled out from the tomb carrying more treasure than seemed prudent. They were covered in grime, wearing heavy backpacks filled with loot while carrying a metallic gold chest between them. Both had blasters holstered on the hips of their coveralls, and wore white helmets with shining headlamps attached to light their path. Darkness had covered the landscape while the pair made themselves busy deep below the jungle floor. The shadows created by the lamps from their headgear created a lot of menace, hopefully more perceived than actual. The tall Jungle trees blotted out the sky, and only their slender, self built path was safe to walk along even during the dim, tree blocked, light of day. “It will all be worth it once it’s over lad,” the older man situated to the rear assured his young companion. “It’s just about ten minutes to the speeder. We’ll never have to work a day in our lives again!” “But we aren’t suppose to be out here after dark, Uncle,” The younger man answered squinting to try and help cut through the darkness before his helmet lamp. “Bah, tales meant to scare children,” the older man chuckled. “Yer not a child are you, Tomas? Anyway, that’s what we’ve got our blasters fer. Burn a hole through any trouble that comes our way.” “Let’s just hurry. We can pat ourselves on the back once we’re back in Ennu City.” The two plodded along for a few minutes before the younger man waved for the pair to stop Squinting, he could see something moving on the path ahead. “What are ya, tired?” The old man set down his half of the chest and moved forward to add his headlamp to his nephew’s, bathing the area before them in light. “Look, there,” the younger man pointed while placing a shaky hand on his holstered blaster. “It, it looks like something, a creature, no a......a......a woman.” “What are you going on about,” the old man grumbled with a hint of apprehension. His eyes were not as good as Tomas’s, but he could see the approaching woman’s silhouette now himself. She looked to be wearing very little clothing from the perspective of the two men. Step after step she moved closer, almost appearing to levitate above the jungle floor, floating softly, as opposed to walking along the uneven surface. She was clad only in rags and those rags only barely covered the parts of her body required for modesty amongst most civilized populations. She was a gray skinned vision; haunting, exotic and beautiful, with eyes unlike any either man had seen before. Tomas tired of waiting for his Uncle to take charge decided to pull his blaster, this woman or creature was obviously a threat not matter her appearance. As he’d once heard, beauty was only skin deep. The realization that he was unable to move struck him like a tidal wave. Panicked he tried again to draw his weapon, only to confirm that he was frozen in place, unable to move as the woman approached him calmly. He continued to struggle against his invisible bonds as the woman reached out and placed her hand on his chest. With a thin, seductive smile she looked the young man up and down, trailing her long black fingernails down his chest, past his belt, and further….. Her eyes were like the black void of space, speckled with little white points, absent of humanity or warmth. Her long dark hair, flecked with amber, wild like the jungle around her, cascaded down over her shoulders and slightly covered her face. Moving against the young man, her fingers stroked his cheek, wiping away a tear the young man had managed to generate despite his paralysis. She moved closely, melding her body with his, as close as a lover would, and began to whispered in his ear. He inhaled a faint scent from her hair he could only describe as the burning of a sweet wood from a camp fire, like he had smelled so many times in his youth. Her voice was like a cool breeze, sending a shiver through to the very core of his being. He now realized that his Uncle was trapped the same as he was, unable to move, fight or even scream. There would be no escape. “No pain,” The jungle woman said the two words softly, moving from the terrified man’s left ear to his right, still clinging to his body. “No pain,” she repeated. They were the last two words the man ever heard. Thats it for now. Thanks for reading -----signature----- I am forever seeking the damutek of Hooley Krekk Oh, woe! Oh, misery! Oh, unhappiness. Hooley Krekk where are you?
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Ceillean Registered: Nov '01	Date Posted: 11/2/08 7:55pm Subject: RE: Tarfang and the City of Lost Jedi
	More soon? Who is this woman? She's got me overly, overyl intrigued, seriously. And this Doole person...coughs What an arrogant ass. I especially liked how you described him, looking all Mafia like. Ah yes...nice picture in my mind. Wonderful update! More soon? -----signature----- "The Queen of Kyp has delivered again " -- Robimus I'm having trouble dealing with the fact that Kyp Durron is a fictional character. http://ceillean.blogspot.com/ http://www.myspace.com/ceillean
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Robimus Registered: Jul '07	Date Posted: 12/28/08 7:57pm Subject: RE: Tarfang and the City of Lost Jedi
	Chapter 3: Hyperspace The expanse of the galaxy was vast, leaving Mandalore and Nal Ennu at almost opposite ends of the space lanes. Even with a speed past that of light the Crossfire would be travelling for several weeks, reverting to real space to jump over to new hyperspace lanes, refuel and catch a meal or two. Slaved to the long freighter’s underside was a sleek, Bes’uliik starfighter, sporting the similar orange and brown hues of Meshla Carid’s Beskar’gam. Either of the two Mandalorians were only a short spacewalk away from getting into the fighter should any trouble appear on the horizon. Carid lounged quietly in the freighter’s main hold, draped across a fur lined couch, holding a cooling pack against his face. His daughter had kept herself busy the last couple hours, silently tending to his wounds from his tussle in Keldabe. Even with the gentle care the man looked as though he’d fallen beneath a stampede of Bantha’s, and then baked under Tattooine’s harsh suns. “So, what exactly was that all about buir?” Meshla approached the subject cautiously. Her father was a difficult man at the best of times and she expected his demeanor to be less than civil due to his beating at the hands of Rakiss Medillon. “What set that big fellow off like that?” Carid glanced toward his daughter’s smooth face and into her sharp hazel eyes. “You have the look of your mother, Meshla. You’ve grown into a fine young woman and a kandosii’la mando. I’m very proud of you, you know that right?” Meshla was a bit taken back at first. Her father’s use of the word mother and daughter in galactic basic was a little strange and unexpected. In Mando’a terminology determining gender was completely absent. A term like buir meant father and mother, there was no separate designation for individual parents. “What are you mumbling on about,” Meshla answered quietly, looking away uncomfortably for a moment. She could feel her cheeks warming up a little and was trying to avoid having her father see her blushing. “You don’t have to say those things.” “I’ve never said those things true,” Baltan answered. “But that doesn’t mean I shouldn’t say them. You are everything your mother ever wanted in a daughter, and I see her in you every time I set my eyes upon you. From your eyes, to your identical button nose and beautiful, long, brown hair, you live on in her image. She used to tie back her hair in the same braided style you use now.” He turned his face away from Meshla as he tried to compose himself to continue the conversation, hoping his daughter wouldn’t notice the tears in his eyes or the tremble in his jaw. “That’s beautiful buir, “Meshla managed with a smile as she returned to dabbing her father’s forehead with an antiseptic swab. She’d never know her father had such a lovely outburst in him, or even that it existed in his vocabulary. Today was proving to be full of surprises. “You miss her don’t you, more than I ever realized you did. You’ve always been the pillar of strength. I don’t even think you cried at her, the…ceremony.” “Yeah, I’m kinda an atin barve that way,” he answered removing the cooling pack from his cheek. “All full of what I think is important. Pride, honor, and resolve, but they were all useless to me once she was gone. And I couldn’t even let myself be seen to care as we sent her to the beyond. Why? Because I was worried about how I’d look in front of the others. Worried about how Ghes or Beviin would view me if I let down my guard. I was such a fool, and maybe that’s how they think of me because of it.” “No one thinks you a fool,” Meshla smiled down at her father. “Though I admit it’s kinda nice to see a human being inside that armor of yours, instead of the cool super commando you try to portray yourself as. It’s nice to see that you care. I admit I often wondered if there was any emotion under that gruff exterior of yours.” “I always did what was best for you, Meshla, even if your mom didn’t agree. She never really did embrace the Mando’ade as fully as I would have hoped she would have. But then it was unfair of me to ask her to give up everything she believed just for my sake.” “Mom knew what she’d gotten into with you, buir. Though I don’t think she ever got used to you running off to join Fett’s campaigns against the Vong and the Empire. She wished you were around more, so did I, but we had to love you the way you we’re. There was no other option.” Meshla gently picked up her father’s hand as she looked deep into his eyes as she continued. “She was very proud of what you did, buir. She just wanted to be as important as your career. I think at times she felt she was, but it had to be tough wondering where you were all the time. Going for months without knowing if you were alive or dead was hard on her. It would have been even if she was a Mandalorian from birth, but as you mention she wasn’t. Her belief structure was a bit different from our own, but it was her love for you that kept her on Mandalore. Don’t ever forget that.” Baltan swung his feet down and sat up on the couch. “And how do you feel Meshla? How was a Mandalorian childhood with an absentee father for you? How did you feel about that?” “I felt,” Meshla paused, a crooked smile creeping onto her face. “I feel like your changing the subject and avoiding the question, buir. What was that Rakiss fellow so upset about?” Her father sat quietly for a few moments, looking down into his linked hands in his lap while twiddling his thumbs. “I kinda had relations of a sort with his daughter, intimate type relations, which he got word of.” Meshla rolled her eyes and shook her head, looking down at her father. “She’s like my age isn’t she? What would make you do such a thing?” Tapping her foot she waited impatiently for an answer. “Are you that, that, stupid?” He feigned hurt feelings with a sorrow filled expression and shook his head. “Hey, I didn’t break any rules. I had every intention of marrying the lass, mhi solus tome, and all that. She just wasn’t interested after the fact, that’s all. I do know that it wasn’t my performance though, that much I can say for certain,” Baltan smirked widely. “She won’t be forgetting the legend of Baltan Carid anytime soon. I promise you that.” “I’m sure.” Meshla stood dumfounded before her father, a man who only seconds earlier had been baring his soul but just as quickly flicked a switch and changed back to his usual, unpleasant self. “Maybe you had that beating coming then you stupid old di’kut. I can’t believe you, and I can’t imagine what interest that girl had in you.” “It’s good to be a famous Vong-killer,” he winked. “All kinds of adoring fans around” Meshla was just about to toss the medial pack at her father when her attention was diverted by a small, gruff chuckle emanating from across the deck. Seated in a cot at the hold’s edge was the little black haired Ewok, laughing and pointing toward both Meshla and her father. He’d obviously been watching the whole exchange, but Meshla wasn’t sure when exactly he’d snuck into the area, or if he’d been there before they even began. “Just shut up you wretched little troll, “she hissed setting the medical pack down on the table before her father. She noticed her father seemed vaguely amused as well causing her to wonder how many of her father's words were real and how much was for show. “Goon-da,” Tarfang continued to chuckle hopping down from his cot, a toothy smile frozen on his face. He chattered something else as he saw Jae Juun coming back from the cockpit. “Really?” Jae Juun nodded toward the Ewok and walked over to sit across from Baltan. “Tarfang says he never thought Mandalorians would have such, um, emotions.” Tarfang began barking loudly toward Jae and ran over waving a stubby finger in the Sullustian’s face. “No, Tarfang. I don’t think that repeating that is such a good idea. These people are our guests,” Jae answered calmly grabbing the Ewok’s finger and shoving it away. “A little decorum and good manners are important even if you don’t think so.” “Maybe I could beat some into you,” the elder Carid winked at Tarfang and pointed at the micro-flame thrower attached to his wrist. “Or burn off that fur. I’ve never feasted on Ewok actually, but you look kinda chewy.” Tarfang’s mood suddenly lightened much to Jae’s surprise. Thrusting one chubby finger in the air as if he just remembered an important fact, the Ewok then opened one of the compartments of his bandoleer. In the blink of an eye he pulled out what appeared to be a slender stylus. Quickly an electrified blade over a meter in length sprung forth from the stylus, needle width but razor sharp. “Tarfang says that he’ll, um, pierce you in a, um, delicate area if you even attempt to spray that fire in his direction,” Jae