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Author	Topic: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 5/2 - Chapter 16
Casper_Knightshade Registered: Oct '00	Date Posted: 12/31/04 11:05am Subject: RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 11/19 - Chapter 15
	POCKEY! -----signature----- "One cannot clone greatness...." - Enothchild Sarch, The Fading Light, Chapter 112 -------------------- "You were fooled, Juna, by an accomplished Jedi Master ...." - 12/15/
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Grand_Admiral_Jaxx Registered: Dec '00	Date Posted: 1/1/05 5:50pm Subject: RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 11/19 - Chapter 15
	Man, I think this little incident will give Dalan the boot to the rear and send him over the edge to ravage the opposition, if you get my drift... I am back! --Jaxx -----signature----- This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang, but with a whimper. --TS Eliot
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Whiskey in the Jar-Jar Registered: Apr '00	Date Posted: 1/2/05 7:32am Subject: RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 1/2 - 2K5 and Still Alive
	Back after a month's worth of writer's block and Christmas cheer. Mouse: Azar's a bit of a special case, as you'll soon learn. He's certainly not the one to worry about, though. Casper: That's Dalan's intention, but... Jaxx: Welcome back to the mainland Hope you had fun over in merry old England and all that. Well, 2005 is upon us and may this year treat us all better than last year had. The door to the decontamination chamber finally opened after several minutes and Dalan stepped into the room. He ran his hands down his arms to smooth out his fur once more after having it stand on end in the chamber....the result of the electrostatic pulse they used to remove any pollen from his being. The room was dark, save for one solitary candle burning in the middle of the room. The tiger narrowed his eyelids and his pupils opened up as far as they could to get a read on his surroundings. For the most part the room was empty, save for a table and a couple of chairs off to one side. There was a crude type of ‘fresher in one of the corners, walled off for discretion, but not much else. He took a step towards the centre of the room and his whiskers stretched forward. Like a feline radar they sensed Triel’s presence in the darkness, her outline barely visible in the candlelight. Dalan could tell she was in a meditative state, given the low level of energy she was giving off. He wondered if she was in some kind of healing trance; Azar had mentioned a fight between she and an unknown number of Vong soldiers…perhaps she’d been hurt more deeply than anyone suspected. “You’re still here.” The voice was hollow…distant…as though while she’d sensed his presence in the room the majority of her consciousness was still on some other plane of existence. He almost felt insulted at this greeting, but was also impressed that she was able to divide her mind so. It showed a discipline most people her age could only dream of. “You sound surprised,” he replied, his voice betraying very little in the way of relief or sorrow. While his goal was to walk out of this room with some fences mended, there were still tings that had to be said and question s that needed answering before he could even think of the healing process. “I am,” said Triel, her voice sounding a little more grounded. Dalan figured she was coming out of her meditation now. “Lights, dim,” she said. Suddenly, an ambient lighting system sparked to life, bathing the room in a soft light. Dalan squinted as his eyes adjusted to the change, then noticed the scar on Triel’s forehead. She would probably carry that scar for the rest of her life now. “I figured you’d be halfway to Pzob by now,” she said, rising from her seated position. “Shaylear convinced me to stay just in case the Queen changes her mind,” said the tiger. “She tells me you might have enough evidence to sway her opinion.” “Ah, so now that there’s a chance at winning this you decide to stay,” she said, the venom in her voice noticeable. Dalan said nothing in response to the insult, but instead made his way over to the table, where Triel’s lightsabre and respirator lay, along with a couple of energy bars and a few bloody, discarded bacta patches. “That cut must have run deep,” he said, examining the patches. “Used up just about every patch you had just to stop the bleeding.” “Yeah, well, taking on six scouts solo doesn’t leave you with much energy to do a healing trance,” said the young Jedi. “I’ll heal it in good time.” “Six?” Dalan’s ears perked up. “Not bad for a first solo.” He’d meant it as a compliment, but he could sense Triel taking it completely the wrong way. “You make it sound like I wasn’t ready,” she said sharply. “No,” said Dalan. “That’s not what I meant at all. I merely stated that you did well for the first time going into combat alone. Assuming we make it off this rock, I should talk to Master Skywalker about promoting you to Apprentice.” He looked at Triel’s lightsabre for a moment, remembering how happy she’d been when she’d finished it. “That way you can come and go as you please and not worry about me constantly tagging along. You’ll be free to make your own decisions…and not have to answer to anyone but yourself.” Triel was shocked. “What…what are you saying?” When Dalan looked back at the young Jedi, his gaze could have chilled water. She took a step back at the stern look on his muzzle. “In all the years I’ve known you,” he said, his voice bordering on a growl, “I have never asked you about your past out of respect. I opened myself up to you, Triel…I trusted you with parts of my past even my mate didn’t know until after we’d been together for a year or more. All I’ve ever asked in return is that you be as honest with me as I had with you.” “You knew there was something there, Ambassador,” said Triel. “You just never had the courage to pursue it.” “Oh, trust me, the courage was there,” retorted Dalan. “Every time I saw that underlying discomfort I wanted to ask about it. I wanted to get to the bottom of it no matter how ugly the truth was. Yet I decided to trust you to come to either me or Tamus in your own good time.” “Just letting me run with enough rope with which to hang myself, eh?” said Triel. “First rule of combat: Let your opponent wear themselves out, is that it?” “If that’s the way you want to read it, then fine,” said the tiger. “If you’d come to us with this at any other time, Triel, any other time, Tamus and I would have tried to resolve the matter properly. But like a good fighter, you merely followed another rule of combat: Don’t give your opponent a chance for defence. Basically you did just as I’d taught you, Triel: You wounded me to the point that I don’t know what to do anymore.” His voice had betrayed none of the underlying grief he felt. His heart was pounding, yet he’d shown nothing of his true feelings. All he wanted to do was end this war of words and hold her in his arms, begging her forgiveness for basically abandoning her on this world. Yet Triel still didn’t seem to register just how badly she’d hurt him, so the war of words would continue. “I…” Triel’s words were lost. She had indeed dealt a blow to the tiger she once called ‘Daddy.’ She hadn’t held back at all, had she? In her anger at his wish to leave and abandon the Invid to the Vong she’d forgotten her Jedi training, instead relying on the primal need to strike that one fatal blow to end the battle in her favour. It was a move worthy of the Dark Side and she knew it. Dalan turned towards the door and moved towards it. “When we return to Naboo,” he said calmly. “I will speak to Master Skywalker about assigning you your own quarters, and I will talk to Anakin about severing our bond. I don’t think you’ll miss it anymore…or me.” With that, he pressed the button and opened the door to the decontamination chamber. The moment the door slid shut Triel fell to her knees and doubled over as if she’d been punched in the stomach. Yellow bile bubbled up out of her mouth and her body convulsed as the full impact of Dalan’s statement finally hit home. She wanted to cry but she was far beyond mere tears and sobs at this point. All she wanted to do was grab her lightsabre and plunge it into her chest, erasing this pain and bringing some closure to Dalan…her true father. Instead, she knelt there and let wave after wave of nausea and convulsions wash over her, begging for Dalan’s forgiveness each time she had a moment or two of control. But her pleas were not heard. The link had been silenced now and nothing would make that tiger open up to her ever again. In her own way, she’d learned the consequences of falling to the Dark Side of the Force, and that mere lesson had cost her dearly. It had cost her…her family. Coming up next...what's the worst thing the Vong can do to a distraught father? -----signature----- Stranger in a Strange Land - CHAPTER 19 BEGINS http://boards.theforce.net/fan_fiction_stories_classic_jc_board_reply_only/b10016/9857098/p11
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mouse2 Registered: Oct '99	Date Posted: 1/3/05 10:14am Subject: RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 1/2 - 2K5 and Still Alive
	Here I am hoping for the best, thinking that maybe they'll just patch things up. But no... And now you've gone and made me cry! A fabulous post Whiskey! What a way to start off the new year! -----signature----- Want to know what ANTAR and TLST are? Visit Hell's Chance! http://www.hellschancecantina.com Proud Master to Lola64! I've gone into lurking mode... If you need me feel free to PM me...
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Whiskey in the Jar-Jar Registered: Apr '00	Date Posted: 1/6/05 1:41pm Subject: RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 1/2 - 2K5 and Still Alive
	Oops...:( Why is that? I finally put something up after over a month's hiatus and I make someone cry...grr..BAD GUNGAN...BAD BAD GUNGAN!!! Picture Jar-Jar doing his best imitation of Dobby Well, another two paragraphs and I'll be able to post again...this time with a bit less drama and a lot more of what I'm known for -----signature----- Stranger in a Strange Land - CHAPTER 19 BEGINS http://boards.theforce.net/fan_fiction_stories_classic_jc_board_reply_only/b10016/9857098/p11
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Casper_Knightshade Registered: Oct '00	Date Posted: 1/7/05 10:20am Subject: RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 1/2 - 2K5 and Still Alive
	Ah man, Dalan, you're taking this way too far! Then again how else do we get to read great drama without it? With that little tease in the last post, I can't wait to read what happens next to Dalan; as if Triel is the only one that will fall. FORWARD! -----signature----- "One cannot clone greatness...." - Enothchild Sarch, The Fading Light, Chapter 112 -------------------- "You were fooled, Juna, by an accomplished Jedi Master ...." - 12/15/
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Whiskey in the Jar-Jar Registered: Apr '00	Date Posted: 1/9/05 10:30pm Subject: RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 1/9 - Therapy...Ravage style - Date Edited: 1/9/05 10:33pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Whiskey in the Jar-Jar
	Well, Casper, you know how it is...first some angst, a little drama, combine it with growing frustration, add a little spice, let simmer for 10 minutes... And... PRESTO! While the plea had fallen on deaf ears, it had not gone completely without notice. Dalan sat in a huge, empty room with a pair of giant doors on the opposite end from where he was. He could smell the latent scent of the Flower of Life in the air and figured this must be one of the Hive’s many storage areas, where during a good harvest the Flower was kept for processing into fuel, nutrient fluid, and food for the many Invid inhabitants. Now, with the Vong raiding each harvesting party and the increasing depletion of fertile land, it was now little more than a place where one tiger with a weighted mind could come and sit…and think. Why…why had she been so visceral in her attacks? Why did she go so far in her efforts to proclaim her independence from him? Had he and Tamus not done a good enough job? Was this typical teenage rebellion kicking in? He’d spent his sixteenth year of life as an exile from his Clan, so he had an entirely different set of reasons to hate his parents. In truth, when it came to dealing with Triel at this point in her life he had no real reference. He could feel the discomfort along the bond he shared with her…a bond he would soon have severed once back on Naboo. As much as he didn’t want to have that bond removed, he figured it would be for the best. Masters and Padawans share an understanding when the pairing is made that some parts of each other’s minds are off-limits. Mental shields are put into place to protect certain memories and feelings from one another and out of respect those lines are never crossed. Triel had the advantage over Dalan in that she had the mental abilities of a Jedi, but was bonded to someone who was not. Granted he had some form of control over his mind, but all he could really do was tone down the bond the way one would reduce the volume on a stereo. However, like the old television sets in the book 1984, he couldn’t switch it off. Only a Jedi with the ability to see beyond the Force could ever hope to do that…and that Jedi was Anakin. Dalan had allowed Triel to cross the line a few times in the past, letting her see parts of his life he was either too embarrassed to discuss or had a hard time trying to describe. When it came to discussing his home world and its many wonders, he would often allow her to explore his mind so that she could feel the same things he did when he talked of Bengalis. It was the ultimate form of trust, he thought. If he could trust her to enter his mind and not expose anything hidden, then he could really trust her with anything. It seemed though that the trust was only one way. Apparently Triel didn’t trust him enough to talk about her real parents or her being sold into slavery by them. Now, that lack of trust was going to come back to her in the form of a lengthy court battle, possible criminal charges coming against Dalan and Tamus, which could include prison time, a huge black mark on Naboo for harbouring kidnappers, and Triel heading back into the infinite loop known as the Slaver’s Circle. The Slaver’s Circle was a cute little term used for the endless cycle of servitude a slave endured throughout his or her life. Once sold into slavery by a parent or guardian, the circle began. Should the slave run away, and if the slave is under-aged, the local government’s form of Social Services typically picked up the child and reunited him or her with the parents, who would then claim a finder’s fee and turn the child back over to the slavers. In a legal sense, there was no way for a slave to escape bondage. In spite of its illegal nature, slavery actually used the legal system to reclaim and runaway slaves. Triel’s status as a Jedi, though, would make things worse for her, Dalan figured. The only slaver of any power on Corellia was Botullu the Hutt, and out of mere hatred for the Jedi would probably face her off against his pet rancor or something. Granted, the tiger still had some pull with the crime lord given their mutual efforts to find Luke and Mara after they’d been kidnapped by the Vong, but like any gangster Botullu had a professional side to him that would dictate the death of a Jedi. It was ‘just business’ and that’s the way it was. The tiger held his head in his hands, not weeping but trying to sort out the white noise of chaotic thoughts that were running through his head. He knew that while Triel probably didn’t need him anymore, he needed her. She’d been his grounding point for all these years in this galaxy…the only person whose mere presence could give him some measure of peace each night. Even with his teaching at the Academy as a distraction, Dalan feared it wouldn’t be enough to keep the homesickness and subsequent melancholy away. Had she known that? Did she have any idea of how much she meant to him? Did she understand why he’d reacted the way he had towards her? Suddenly, the ground beneath Dalan vibrated. It wasn’t much but it still piqued his interest. He stood up and felt another vibration…then another…then another. They were getting louder and more violent with each passing one and the tiger’s senses all led to one conclusion: Something bad was happening to the Hive. As if on cue, the far door of the storage room suddenly bulged and exploded off its hinges. The force of the blast knocked Dalan back several metres. Fighting his disorientation he got back to his feet and noticed a group of Yuuzhan Vong soldiers standing before him. Judging from their armour they were of an intermediate rank; they still possessed their chest plates, but only a few of them had anything more. He watched them as they advanced, gauging their skills by how they moved and how they carried their weapons. He smirked; these guys were good, but against a real challenge they would doubtless fall like autumn leaves in the breeze. Another explosion rocked the Hive, Dalan now able to hear it thanks to the blown open door. Whatever was happening out there it was more than a mere hit and fade run on the Vong’s part. They had come in force. This little octet of soldiers had probably been assigned to enter the Hive and assess the strength of their target, at which point they would communicate that information back to the strike force. Man, did they pick the wrong storage container to blow. Dalan flexed his claws and breathed in deeply once. His weapons were still back on his ship, which was deep within the Hive. All he had were his skills, claws, and teeth with which to defend himself. He sunk into his hybrid fighting stance, letting his emotions peel away to expose the Dark Seed within his soul, unleashing the beast within. Ravage’s eyes lit up like two glowing rubies of rage and his lips pulled back in a feral snarl of contempt. Eight on one…it hardly seemed fair…the Vong needed more. Two Vong moved in, amphistaffs at the ready. Ravage snarled and charged, dodging the first staff swung at him and catching the attacker’s wrist. One sharp twist and a cry of pain later, the soldier was suddenly missing his weapon as well as his right forearm. The soldier dropped writhing to the ground, grabbing desperately at his bleeding arm stump in an effort to stop the flow of his life’s blood onto the ground. Yet, he knew his destiny was at hand. The second attacker saw this savage act on the part of this felinoid and momentarily hesitated. It was long enough for Ravage to transfer the amphistaff to his right hand and slash in an arc that caught the Vong right at the neck. With the precision of a master crafted sword, the serpentine staff slipped through the flesh of its target like a hot knife through butter. At the end of the strike, Ravage flipped the blade just slightly to ensure the head of this soldier was ejected from his body in a brutal display. It was all part of the psychology of combat to him. The more fear he could generate in these packlas before him, the better he’d do. The six remaining soldiers witnessed the decapitation of one of their own and they began to spread out in an effort to encircle this feral beast. One of them, apparently the group’s leader, brandished his staff before Ravage, laughing evilly as he did so. “Your hide will decorate my quarters,” he said, moving his staff in a rather refined pattern. Ravage snarled angrily. “You eight are a mere appetizer to me,” he growled, his Warning of the Voice adding a demonic quality to the words. “Come forth, scum; the slayer of Nom Anor desires more blood this day.” If ever a phrase had given the Yuuzhan Vong pause, it was that. Word had gotten around in the Vong ranks that someone – an alien being possessed of some supernatural power – had dealt the mighty Nom Anor his final death blow and had sent him to the afterlife in shame. As with any tale of a great warrior falling, the circumstances behind it were varied, exaggerated, and elevated to an almost god-like status. After all, how could a mere mortal hope to slay the great Nom Anor? Surely only an instrument of the gods could accomplish such a feat. While the remark had given the Vong pause, Ravage noticed that it also seemed to galvanize them. Perhaps they thought whoever brought him down would be elevated to legendary status amongst the Vong. He sighed slightly, remembering just why he normally never used religious or legendary references in combat: It never really worked. The lead Vong gave a battle cry and the six soldiers moved in at once. Ravage chose one of the six to be the weakest link and charged him, evading the Vong’s amphistaff and striking out with the one he’d taken. The two staves met with a clash, the tiger’s knocking the Vong’s out of the way long enough for Ravage to plant a left-handed punch square in the Vong’s face. When the warrior hit the ground, his face resembled that of an impact crater with blood and grey matter slowly oozing out of his ears. Once outside of the closing circle, Ravage rounded on his attackers, dropping the amphistaff and cutting loose a roar that would have frozen most opponents. He dove into the fray, claws bared and fangs ready for death. The next one in his path tried to swipe along the tiger’s midsection, hoping to gut the beast before him, but Ravage turned to one side, delivering a chop from his hand that snapped the Vong’s spinal cord at the neck. He dropped to the ground twitching slightly as his muscles protested their last. The fallen body provided some space for Ravage, dividing the remaining four attackers. He extended his left foot in a kick, knocking one of the Vong in front of him back, allowing him to focus on the other closest to him. Ravage grabbed at him and pulled him close. In a move that would have made Bram Stoker himself proud, the tiger sunk his fangs deep into the hapless Vong’s neck and then pulled away, taking a huge piece of meat with him. The soldier screamed as jets of blood gushed from severed arteries, making his death slow, painful, and horrid. Ravage spat out the neck meat at the surviving pair of Vong, distracting them long enough to drop the bleeding corpse and move in on them. His rage at peak, the tiger swung mightily at the first, smashing in the side of his head. The last surviving Vong raised his staff in a defensive posture, but it was useless as Ravage delivered an open-hand punch directly at his chest. The soldier flew back several metres before landing on the ground, on his back…dead. If anyone had bothered to do an autopsy, they would have noticed that while the voodun crab armour had not been damaged, the energy of the punch had been focused through it and aimed at the beating heart beneath. He had been the victim of the D’al Sek…the Touch of Death. Suddenly, another jolt rocked the Hive, and Dalan headed outside through the opening in the far side of the storage container. It had been recessed within the Hive’s outer wall, so there was a gap in between the container’s opening and the outside several metres in length. The moment he made it to that gap he could hear the sounds of fighting off to one side. He turned and noticed several Yuuzhan Vong soldiers begin repelled by a combined effort on the parts of Shaylear, Azar, and a couple of other Enforcers. The tiger bolted towards the fray, carrying two of the fallen Vong’s amphistaffs. Feslira had taught him years ago of the intricacies of operating such a weapon. Basically, it was a serpent that with the right pressures applied in the right places, could be manipulated into a weapon capable of cutting durasteel. However, when those pressures were reversed, the staff merely reverted back to its original form…that of a serpent. He applied said reversal to the staff in his right hand and tossed it at the Vong soldiers just as it began to soften. Even a moment’s hesitation would be enough for him to act, and the sight of a deadly serpent being hurled at you often causes such a pause. Sure enough, the soldiers flinched when the ophidian announced its presence with a hiss. Their recoil gave Ravage the moment he needed to strike. He swung with the other staff, decapitating the Vong closest to him. The next one had his skull caved in by a massive right hand from the tiger, whose arrival now galvanized the defenders that much more. Azar cut loose with his cannon, burning several Vong where they stood while Shaylear put into practice the Najari training the Queen had buried deep in her subconscious mind. The melee was over rather quickly after that, the small Vong strike force all but decimated at the hands of the Invid. Azar turned and acknowledged the tiger’s presence with a stiff nod. “It is fortunate you arrived when you did,” said the Enforcer. “I fear the outcome would have been…different otherwise.” “Is everyone all right?” asked Dalan, looking at Shaylear. “We’re fine,” replied the Invid tigress. “The Hated Ones began this bombardment only mere minutes ago, but already we have taken grievous losses.” “How did they find this place?” asked the tiger. “I thought the Queen was able to…” His left ear suddenly twitched at the sound of armour moving. Normally such a noise he would ignore, but the sudden tingling of his whiskers screamed that this was something of which he should take notice. He turned and his green eyes widened as two of the Enforcers suddenly stepped away from the group…and promptly raised their weapons against them. “What is this?” growled Shaylear. Of course, it was a moot question, as these two Enforcers did not have the same vocal enhancement given to Azar. However, Azar knew who they were and suddenly everything fell into place with a disturbing crystallization. “These are Mazar and Lizar,” he said, bringing his own weapon to bear. “Two of which accompanied the Guardian on her quest for the Hated Ones. Whatever destroyed our other comrades must have spared them…used them to find this place.” “But how?” asked Shaylear, suddenly afraid. Dalan could sense the growing fear in her even as he felt Ravage surging up through his soul once more. However, in spite of his reflexes, strength, and determination, to face two Enforcers at this range, both armed with their energy rifles was almost a guaranteed futile gesture. He readied himself for the moment where he would lunge at these two, doubtlessly feeling their weapons’ beams lance his body and end his life… CLIFFIE! -----signature----- Stranger in a Strange Land - CHAPTER 19 BEGINS http://boards.theforce.net/fan_fiction_stories_classic_jc_board_reply_only/b10016/9857098/p11
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Whiskey in the Jar-Jar Registered: Apr '00	Date Posted: 1/11/05 6:42am Subject: RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 1/9 - Therapy...Ravage style
	PUNT!!! -----signature----- Stranger in a Strange Land - CHAPTER 19 BEGINS http://boards.theforce.net/fan_fiction_stories_classic_jc_board_reply_only/b10016/9857098/p11
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Casper_Knightshade Registered: Oct '00	Date Posted: 1/11/05 11:08am Subject: RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 1/9 - Therapy...Ravage style
	Wicked post: Ravage is back and nasty as ever! Alas, through victory and a betrayal is unconvered. Call me Cliffy because I'm hanging around like everyone else. Ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh, what is next, what is next?!? -----signature----- "One cannot clone greatness...." - Enothchild Sarch, The Fading Light, Chapter 112 -------------------- "You were fooled, Juna, by an accomplished Jedi Master ...." - 12/15/
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Grand_Admiral_Jaxx Registered: Dec '00	Date Posted: 1/11/05 7:02pm Subject: RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 1/9 - Therapy...Ravage style
	Jeez, you write some of the best action sequences I've read (and this includes stuff by "real" authors in "real" books)...but what makes it pack such a punch is the emotional stuff before it. Maybe Triel will see what she's doing to her father, and maybe her father won't be as stubborn as usual. Excellent posts, Whiskey! I really enjoyed reading those two. It's good to be back. -----signature----- This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang, but with a whimper. --TS Eliot
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mouse2 Registered: Oct '99	Date Posted: 1/12/05 7:43am Subject: RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 1/9 - Therapy...Ravage style
	I agree with Jaxx about your action sequences Whiskey. I wish mine were as good. Mine tend to end up like something out of Robin Hood Daffy. You know... Ho, Ha, Perry, Dodge, Spin... You get the picture. It's so good to see Ravage in action. I love a good carnage. -----signature----- Want to know what ANTAR and TLST are? Visit Hell's Chance! http://www.hellschancecantina.com Proud Master to Lola64! I've gone into lurking mode... If you need me feel free to PM me...
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Grand_Admiral_Jaxx Registered: Dec '00	Date Posted: 1/14/05 7:00pm Subject: RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 1/9 - Therapy...Ravage style
	volleyball style bump -----signature----- This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang, but with a whimper. --TS Eliot
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Grand_Admiral_Jaxx Registered: Dec '00	Date Posted: 1/18/05 5:00am Subject: RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 1/9 - Therapy...Ravage style
	what, nobody likes volleyball? -----signature----- This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. This is the way the world ends. Not with a bang, but with a whimper. --TS Eliot
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mouse2 Registered: Oct '99	Date Posted: 1/18/05 9:42am Subject: RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 1/9 - Therapy...Ravage style
	Oops! Sorry! volleyball style set -----signature----- Want to know what ANTAR and TLST are? Visit Hell's Chance! http://www.hellschancecantina.com Proud Master to Lola64! I've gone into lurking mode... If you need me feel free to PM me...
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Casper_Knightshade Registered: Oct '00	Date Posted: 1/21/05 6:25am Subject: RE: Stranger in a Strange Land - Part 7 - Our Time Has Come - UPDATE 1/9 - Therapy...Ravage style
	SPIKE! -----signature----- "One cannot clone greatness...." - Enothchild Sarch, The Fading Light, Chapter 112 -------------------- "You were fooled, Juna, by an accomplished Jedi Master ...." - 12/15/
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