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Author	Topic: 300: The Last Stand of the Jedi
Sith-I-5 Registered: Aug '02	Date Posted: 11/17/07 12:02pm Subject: RE: 300: The Last Stand of the Jedi
	IC: Agent Mitch Nifesta, bridge of the Darth Unlucky Date: 3996 BBY \| Location: unknown Mitch had changed his clothes, adopting a cheaper, throwaway ensemble that he wouldn’t mind losing to laser sword slashes. Sith and lightsabres were synonymous, as far as Mitch was concerned. They went together. Like jawas and flies. He had worked alongside an agent who had partnered a jawa, and she hadn’t mentioned any flies, but that wasn’t enough for him to dismiss an entire stereotype. He stepped out of his cabin, patting down his robe and making sure he was armed: lightsabre up the left sleeve, DC-15 full length plasma rifle under the reinforced wrap, spare clip for the rifle attached to his belt. Hanging on his right pelvis bone, the latter felt weighty, giving him a lopsided gait. Finally, he snapped it off, leaned back into the cabin, the door still open, and tossed the container onto his dishevelled bunk coverings. On his way again, he stepped from the doorway enough to permit the door’s closure, and looked up. “Last Bolt! Status of the Casino?” We are closing on the vessel now. Sensors paint fifteen cadavers outside the ship, distance consistent with being jettisoned from a Type Four airlock. The voice seemed to come from everywhere, enough to engender a feeling of omnipresence, without being sinister or controlling “There are types of airlocks?” exclaimed Mister Focussed. Affirmative. Based on size, use, and cubic capacity of atmosphere. Type Four is a civilian passenger embarkation entryway. “Is it compatible with ours?” Affirmative. Standby. Oh, a sixteenth got jettisoned. They hadn’t missed all the fun, Mitch considered, moving purposefully to the turbolift.“I’m heading to the starboard lock; take us in, as fast as you need to, and settle us over their airlock before they space someone else.” At this time, he felt no compassion or sympathy for those already deceased. He didn’t know them. But if he ever allowed a shrink to psycho-analyse this action, he would have been unable to explain himself. After all, if all he wanted was to eat Sith, he could meander in any time, yet he was not only hastening the encounter, but actively interfering in the execution of civilians. “I’m at the lock” Nifesta reported, arriving at what he assumed to be the starboard side. Getting it right had always been a weak spot for him, but the advantage of having a computer AI was that it would park the ship to match whichever of the two airlocks he chose. There was a metallic clang like someone getting crowned with a tea tray from the other side of the ‘Unlucky’s circular hatch, and a shift underfoot as the ship stopped. We are in position. Docked with the Royal Casino. Mitch nodded, “Roger that.” He opened the inner hatch, stepping into the sterile white compartment that seemed de rigueur for airlocks; sealed that one, then opened the external one. Facing him was the bright yellow square outer hatch of the liner, her surface scored with micro-meteorites and other space debris. The Twi’lek’s perusal was cut short as this barrier swooshed open and someone on their knees screamed in his face! The panicking male was dressed in a loose, florid-style white tunic, stained with grime and sweat, and baggy black trousers tucked into well-polished shin boots. He didn’t appear to be bound. Mitch stepped into the other ship’s airlock, and placed a calming palm in the other’s head. “It’s alright,” he told him, “You’re safe; I’m here now” The man didn’t stop screaming for all he was worth, and had now wrapped desperate arms round Nifesta’s thighs through his robe, and was holding on like he was on the brink of death; and but for the agent’s intervention, he had been. Gradually, the screaming stopped, but the man held on. “Thank you. Thank you. Thank you.” Nifesta enjoyed gratitude as much as the next law enforcement officer, but the man was impeding his progress, and, and, Yes, you are most welcome, believe me, but you are cutting off circulation, and haha, you are pulling my trousers down. Stop it! The Royal Casino inner hatch slid sideways before Agent Nifesta, revealing a mirror-reflective black deck of what opened into a luxurious, but debris-strewn lobby area, complete with reception counter, and a waist-high barrier of colourless transparent glase separating the area from an empty chasm-like torus that Mitch could see several other floors on the other side off. How big was this Fething ship! Then Mitch spotted the Sith sitting a hundred metres away, this side of the glased balustrade, and almost sunk into a deep purple chair, his knees almost level with his own chest. The agent was certain of the other’s identity - his essence, a scarlet glow in the in the Force; black clothes, red flesh on face and bare forearms, swirling black tattoos; his next airlock victim being held aloft, puppet-like, with invisible hands. Then he noticed Mitch too, so surprised that he dropped the hostage. To be continued -----signature----- “So what kind of quad-lasers has this thing got?” Stobb pressed, “Golan Arms or Taim & Bak KT-6s?” “Leave me alooone.” The pilot sobbed, “I didn’t build the sodding thing. I press a button, green light shoots out.” 007 family - DVC's twin bro'
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Master_Dmentae Registered: Jun '06	Date Posted: 11/17/07 12:11pm Subject: RE: 300: The Last Stand of the Jedi
	OOC: dude, we have an intro now, just participate in the battle already...and dont make em so long, people are lazy... -----signature----- Ace Combat Fan - "Dancing with the Angels!" Xbox Live User - Dmentae Oblivion Fan - "By Azura By Azura By..." Star Wars Knowledge Fan "In appearance, the Knowledge Bank doesn't look all that impressive…" Whatever else you want me to be - "Insert Quote Her
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Sith-I-5 Registered: Aug '02	Date Posted: 11/17/07 12:48pm Subject: RE: 300: The Last Stand of the Jedi - Date Edited: 11/17/07 12:50pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Sith-I-5
	…continued, and halved again, just for you, Master_Dmentae. IC: Agent Nifesta, hostage one, Sith Pirate, lobby of the Royal Casino. Their eyes met across the vestibule, deep red on both the Sith and the SGIS agent. The DC-15 came up, and he depressed the trigger, a golden packet of coherent plasma energy crossing the distance to the chair in an instance, the Sith heaving himself away from it like greased guano, the abandoned furniture exploding in his wake, fiery stuffing raining out of the chilled air. Mitch tried to follow, but impeded by his fan, fell heavily forwards, a second plasma charge striking a molten furrow into the lobby flooring. “Get off me!” The Twi’lek operative growled, trying to kick the man off before the Sith could counter-attack, but he held on tighter than ever. “Alright. Dammit!” Annoyed, Mitch deliberately becalmed himself, turning over and sitting up so that he got the victim’s full attention. He dredged his memories for one of the legions of Force-users that he had eaten over the ages, jedi, sith, and others, trying to find a clear picture of how to pull off a mind trick. It wasn’t something that he habitually did. His size, presence, booming voice, usually served to make sure that his point was taken fairly quickly. He looked serenely into the sufferer’s wild eyes, did the odd little two-finger salute that jedi did to divert a person’s attention, then: “You will desist trying to pull my trousers down” He commanded, putting the full weight of that mystical energy field behind his voice. He had to get this done with. Force knew where that Sith was now. They weren’t sandpeople, and while this one might share the ‘easily startled’ adjective with them, he certainly wasn't off rounding up banthas and buddies. The man’s face went blank, his gaze distant. “I will desist trying to pull your trousers down.” He felt the man’s grip loosen. Ah. Progress. “You will get the frag off me.” “I will get the frag off you.” The man’s eyes started to focus, then darted up to look over Mitch’s head. “You shall perish for your insolence!” Promised a voice behind the agent, and Mitch gritted his teeth, bracing for the impact. There was the thwumm of an activated lightsabre, the sound of it’s passage through air, and a line of pain along the back of his skull as the laser blade bounced away. Wincing with the pain, Nifesta heard the growl of surprise from the Sith standing at his left side, and quickly whirled that way, landing on both knees as the civilian that was attached to him flipped over into the airlock base, teeth snapping together as his face hit the floor! Mitch ignored him, his own lightsabre dropping down his sleeve and into his waiting palm, the brilliant white blade shooting forth from the simple blue handle. To be continued... -----signature----- “So what kind of quad-lasers has this thing got?” Stobb pressed, “Golan Arms or Taim & Bak KT-6s?” “Leave me alooone.” The pilot sobbed, “I didn’t build the sodding thing. I press a button, green light shoots out.” 007 family - DVC's twin bro'
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Sith-I-5 Registered: Aug '02	Date Posted: 11/21/07 11:52am Subject: RE: 300: The Last Stand of the Jedi
	IC: Agent Mitch Nifesta, Royal Casino passenger embarkation airlock. Date: 3996 BBY \| Location: unknown Mitch couldn’t worry about the passenger now, sweeping his lightsabre right to left at knee height for the Sith, the other Force-jumping straight up to evade it! Fast, but not enough. The move complete, two bloody feet plopped to the floor before him, a smaller prize than what he had aimed for! The rest of the pirate crashed beside him like a felled tree, managing to remain more composed than Mitch expected he would, if defeeted like that. The Twi’lek gripped onto one of the carbonised shin stumps and pulled the darksider down to the floor, the struggling body arriving next to him, which Mitch pinned the Sith, easily over-powering him, left forearm under the being’s right shoulder so that he could not turn that way, and his own bulk, hip and thigh to the left, preventing a turn towards him. And of course, Mitch’s torso and armpit provided a bridge over the other’s chest. He settled with his face over the other’s, the two Force Sensitives snarling at each other in a torrent of machismo and testosterone. “Unhand me!” Mitch said nothing. The Sith kicked about with his feet-less legs and beat his arms on the floor, but could not shift the agent, then changed tactics and struck the pale Twi’lek hard in the face with his own crimson-coloured forehead! Mitch was silent as blood dripped from his cut lip. He thought nothing. At this point, it was instinct. The Sith looked up into red eyes much like his own, then without warning, they changed to black. Deep, bottomless, obsidian blackness. Then it began. A pulse of writhing blue-white energy, life-force, sprang out of the space-jacker’s face, dividing into two, and dove into the empty eye holes. As this happened, the airlock flashed with actinic blinding light reflecting off the walls and ceiling, the Sith’s body lost cohesion, and his clothing started to crumple in on itself as its wearer disintegrated. The Sith’s face greyed, wrinkled, dried, and finally de-calcified to a grey structure made dust, barely bonded. Then without warning, seconds after the pyrotechnic display ceased, it collapsed beneath him into a formless pile of psychic ash. “What are you?” Mitch ignored the passenger's query. He was finding that old-skool Sith had a bit of a kick to them. Static electricity crawled over his bald skull as he stayed as still as he could, and shuddered uncontrollably. Memories from the absorbed killer of sixteen people flooded his mind, as they always did when he consumed another’s life force. Memories, important and not, no rhyme or reason to them. The other members of the crew and passengers yet to be slain were outside in the lobby, shrieking during the lightshow, but silent now, unsure of what was happening. The man who had been holding onto the Twi’lek was cowering in the corner of the airlock compartment, looking as if he wanted to melt right through it, staring in horror at the agent. “What are you?” He asked again, voice breaking with fear. Mitch saw red. Or at least, his minds eye did. Three scarlet essences in the Force were on the way down, alerted by their colleague’s painful demise. To be continued. -----signature----- “So what kind of quad-lasers has this thing got?” Stobb pressed, “Golan Arms or Taim & Bak KT-6s?” “Leave me alooone.” The pilot sobbed, “I didn’t build the sodding thing. I press a button, green light shoots out.” 007 family - DVC's twin bro'
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Mercurio Registered: May '05	Date Posted: 11/26/07 1:13am Subject: RE: 300: The Last Stand of the Jedi
	is it too late to join?? -----signature----- Peace is a lie, there is only Passion Through Passion, I gain Strength Through Strength, I gain Power Through Power, I gain Victory Through Victory my chains are broken.
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witchdoctor187 Registered: Aug '07	Date Posted: 11/26/07 6:28am Subject: RE: 300: The Last Stand of the Jedi
	no gp right ahead, we're kinda at a slow point, i have serious writers block.
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Mercurio Registered: May '05	Date Posted: 11/26/07 9:50am Subject: RE: 300: The Last Stand of the Jedi
	ok waiting for approval -----signature----- Peace is a lie, there is only Passion Through Passion, I gain Strength Through Strength, I gain Power Through Power, I gain Victory Through Victory my chains are broken.
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Sith-I-5 Registered: Aug '02	Date Posted: 11/29/07 5:46am Subject: RE: 300: The Last Stand of the Jedi
	IC: Agent Mitch Nifesta, passenger embarkation lock, Royal Casino starliner. Date: 3996 BBY \| Location: unknown The twi’lek forced himself into a standing position, willing himself not to sway. If he ate another of the darksiders from this era, he would have to do it near a bed, or a comfort-lounger, or something. For the first time, he wondered if they – the galaxy-at-large – had something from his time; they apparently had space travel; so, comfort-loungers, furniture that adjusted itself to the contours of your body, couldn’t be too much of a stretch. Sensing the three Force signatures coming closer; they seemed to be descending from decks above this one, he realised that he had to do something with the passengers and hopefully, crew. Raising his wrist-communicator to his mouth: “Last Bolt?” Copy. “The airlock I am at, can you keep the inner and outer hatches open at the same time? I haven’t checked how many civvies I have here, but I would like them to be able to stream aboard the ‘Unlucky in one go.” I will have to override safety protocols, Agent. “Do it. Isolate the deck though. I will see if I can do the same aboard the liner.” Understood. Out. Mitch knew this was extremely dangerous and foolhardy. Safety protocols to keep either an airlock’s inner or outer hatch sealed at any one time were there for a reason. If the computer managed to over-ride and do as he had bidden, and then, somehow, the two ships separated, the atmosphere and everyone in the reception area, including his own stupid hide, would be sucked into deep space, and to quote generations of smug Corellian astrogators and Academy instructors, “That’d end your trip real quick, wouldn’t it?” Nifesta turned and stalked out into the lobby. There was one guy to his left, nursing the ankle that he had been dropped on, released by the startled Sith just now; and to the right of the lock, a group of several dozen beings were gathered, mostly seated on the scuff-resistant flooring, along the curving wall. Mitch clapped his hands, attracting attention. “Alright, this is a rescue! Not a particularly efficient one, mind, but I didn’t have time to prepare. Those who can, get into the lock behind me, and cross over into my ship. Any members of the crew here?” To be continued... -----signature----- “So what kind of quad-lasers has this thing got?” Stobb pressed, “Golan Arms or Taim & Bak KT-6s?” “Leave me alooone.” The pilot sobbed, “I didn’t build the sodding thing. I press a button, green light shoots out.” 007 family - DVC's twin bro'
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Sith-I-5 Registered: Aug '02	Date Posted: 11/29/07 5:57am Subject: RE: 300: The Last Stand of the Jedi
	...continued “Who are you?” Someone wanted to know, an older human male kneeling by the wall and looking at the newcomer in deep suspicion. He looked to be wearing a brown, belted tunic of a thin material and light-coloured shorts that came down to his knees, and blue veins could be seen clearly through the thin flesh of his legs. “Does it matter?” This speaker, along with a smattering of others, were already climbing to their feet, and helping others to rise also. These were by far, the minority, Mitch noticed. “I just want to know who he is, is all.” Mtch balanced the plasma rifle in the crook of his left arm, barrel pointing down, and fished through his cloak for his identification, flipping open the black wallet to show his agency's metallic emblem. “SGIS. Secret Galactic Intelligence Service.” “Well I’ve never heard of you!” This was one of the easier objections to deal with. “Well if you had, we would be the just the Galactic Intelligence Service, wouldn’t we?” There was a patronising tone to the operative’s voice, though it wasn’t wholly deliberate. “Now, once again, are there any members of the crew here?” Two or three tentative hands went up. “Well there was no need to be sarcastic.” Mitch ignored the comment and ploughed on. It was becoming increasingly clear that the vessel had made a pickup at the Planet of the Time Wasters. “Alright, the airlock on my ship isn’t that big, so, can you see if you can get your one to keep the inner and outer doors open at the same time. The computer on my ship is trying the same thing at its end too. Hurry up, people. Before that pirate’s reinforcements get here!” “Stop right there. Who are you?” Mitch spun to look behind him, the voice having Sith written all over it. He saw nothing, but his Force Sense was telling him exactly where the speaker was. He ignored it, since from what he had seen of the place, that would have the speaker suspended high in the air over the artificial chasm, two to three hundred metres beyond the glased safety barrier. It was a decoy of some type, he decided, aiming to distract him from the real attack. “I am right here, FOOL.” His ears were siding with his Force Sense, insisting the voice was coming from the same place. Mitch squinted, trying to ignore the obvious lie. In his many generations of life, he had encountered many beings skilled in levitation, jedi, sith, others. And none had ever shown the ability to float themselves for a consistent period of time over such a depth, and remain stationary. Not even Sorcerors of Tund, who were well renowned for showy entrances. “Young man, can’t you see him? He is floating right there!” Betraying his will, his eyes flicked involuntarily in the indicated direction, and his mouth dropped open. What the frag? He mouthed silently in disbelief. To be continued... -----signature----- “So what kind of quad-lasers has this thing got?” Stobb pressed, “Golan Arms or Taim & Bak KT-6s?” “Leave me alooone.” The pilot sobbed, “I didn’t build the sodding thing. I press a button, green light shoots out.” 007 family - DVC's twin bro'
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witchdoctor187 Registered: Aug '07	Date Posted: 12/2/07 8:26pm Subject: RE: 300: The Last Stand of the Jedi
	IC: Owen Owen stood with his men at the gates to the academy, which was coming ever closer to being breached. All the Jedi and soldiers that could be mustered were pushing up against the old gate, trying to keep out the ever persistent enemy. Soon the gates started to move, and there was nothing the Jedi could do to stop them from moving. Soon republic soldiers started to break away and head for the transports. The Jedi upon seeing this came very close to following their companions, but Owen then ran to the gates and helped his men keep the gate closed. “Hold men! Don’t falter! We need to give those transports more time” commanded Owen. A whole day had passed and the transports were still being loaded, due to the uncountable number of personnel at the academy. “But Master there are too many, we cannot possibly hold them!” screamed a fearful padawan. “Hold, we will hold this gate, now push!” yelled Owen. And with those words the Jedi’s moral soared and the enemy at the gates began to fall back, for a short time at least. The Jedi had just about won back the ground they had lost, when suddenly an earth shaking sound shook the ground and blew apart the large gate. The blast threw Jedi and republic soldiers away from the gate. The blast even threw Owen back at least 20 feet, making him slam into a wall. As he regained his footing he tried to see where the blast had come from. And as the smoke and dust cleared, he could see the gate, which was now barely hanging from its hinges. He then looked beyond the door and could see what had destroyed the door, a large plasma cannon, which was manned by 4 Sith troopers. Owen then came back into reality and realized that he was in the open, and so were the wounded Jedi and soldiers. He quickly ran forward and started to pull the wounded away from the doorway before the Sith could poor through. After the wounded had been pulled off towards the transports, Owen reassembled his men and readied them for the oncoming onslaught. “Stand firm men, we will need to hold out as long as possible. We may lose our lives, but we will save the lives of hundreds of others. Think of your loved ones, your friends,” Said Owen. As he said the words, the reminder of Fay came into mind, he would have to hold off the Sit has long as possible in order to save her from certain death. He just hoped that she was off planet already.
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witchdoctor187 Registered: Aug '07	Date Posted: 12/2/07 8:52pm Subject: RE: 300: The Last Stand of the Jedi - Date Edited: 12/2/07 8:54pm (1 edits total) Edited By: witchdoctor187
	IC: Owen Owen and what was left of his men stood in two rows, ready for the Sith. The plains outside weren’t visible through the smoke and dust, but they knew the Sith were out there, running right towards this very opening. Suddenly through the smoke, the Jedi could hear the nerve racking war yells from the Sith troops. Only 8 seconds had passed before they caught the first glimpse of the enemy, a glimmer shinning of a Sith’s armor. Owen drew his lightsaber and ignited it. He positioned his body into a defensive stance, ready for anyone brave, or stupid enough to face him. Soon Sith were poring through the gap that was once the academy gate. A group of dark Jedi led the Sith as the armies first line of soldiers. Owen raised his lightsaber and charged forward followed closely by his battle worn men. Owen met the first line of dark Jedi with his blue lightsaber, slicing down one and then another. The two armies clashed into each other, making it impossible to move or have any room to attack. Soon the soldiers on both sides were no longer using their blasters or lightsabers, but their fists, due to the crowded space. Owen had managed to keep a clear space in front of him of about a few feet, just enough to let him swing his lightsaber. The fight lasted for about 15 minutes until it looked as if the Jedi would be overwhelmed. That was until a loud voice carried out above the sound of battle and all the screams of the wounded and dying. “Sunweaver, Sunweaver face me you Jedi coward!” screamed the voice. The battle immediately halted at the sound of the voice. Owen stopped in mid swing, his heart nearly stopped. He knew that voice; he had heard it before, only a few hours ago. It was the Sith assassin. Owen looked up towards the origin of the threat. There stood the assassin on the balcony that over looked the courtyard. Owen lowered his lightsaber and walked away from battle scene at the gate, whose ground was covered in blood and bodies. His men tried to keep him from walking to the assassin, but he simply took hold of their hands and lowered them, a sign to show them that he was alright. He walked below the balcony and looked up towards the Sith. “What do you want from me Sith? Who sent you?” “Are you that naïve Jedi? You know who sent me, the man who launched the assault on this pathetic planet, the wise and immortal Exar Kun. But why he would want this wretched piece of dirt is beyond me.” “Well you want to kill me? Come on, I’m right here.” “Brave words Sunweaver, foolish, but brave.” The assassin then jumped down from the balcony and landed heavily upon the brick floor of the courtyard. shaking the ground under Owen's feet. He thne rose to his feet and drew his lightsaber.
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witchdoctor187 Registered: Aug '07	Date Posted: 12/2/07 9:24pm Subject: RE: 300: The Last Stand of the Jedi
	IC: Owen Owen took on his defensive stance with his lightsaber. All the men on both sides could do was watch as the two Jedi began to fight. To the men on both sides, Owen looked like a small boat holding its own in the face of a savage storm. Owen and the Sith circled each other for a few seconds before the assassin swung his blade in a downward swing towards Owen’s head. Owen quickly parried the swing, but it was difficult, the Sith was twice his size after all. Owen attempted a sideways slash directed at the Sith’s thigh, but that was parried in return, but Owen thought quickly and attempted a quick slash toward the other side of the assassin before he could recover from the parry. Owen’s blade cut deep into the Sith’s other thigh, searing the flesh. The assassin, enraged, backhanded Owen across the chest, throwing him back a few feet. Owen quickly regained his footing, but was a little dizzy, which gave the assassin a small opening. The assassin swung his blade and slashed Owen across his abdomen; searing Owen’s flesh and making him cringe in pain. Owen then gave a quick jab at the assassin’s torso but missed as the assassin moved to the right. This type of fighting went on for nearly 15 minutes, causing Owen to become more and more tired by the minute. Owen had received a wound on his right thigh, abdomen, and across his right shoulder. He now was conjuring all the strength he had in order to just stand up. The assassin again attempted another overhead swing, which Owen was barely able to block. He blocked the red blade of the Sith’s lightsaber. The assassin then delivered another quick swing at Owen’s left shoulder, hitting it dead on, delivering a deep gash. Owen dropped his lightsaber to the ground and waited for the final strike to come down on his head. But that strike never came. Instead the Sith picked up Owen with his muscular arms and threw him across the courtyard, smashing him into the far wall. Owen crumpled to the ground in complete exhaustion. The Sith assassin then straightened himself and began to walked towards Owen with his lightsaber ready. He soon came to stand over Owen, ready to deliver a blow that would sever the Jedi’s head from his shoulder. Owen rose his eyes and met those of the Sith. He looked back down and past the Sith. He looked into the eyes of the men he had lead for the past few days. He just hoped that they would die as quickly as he would. He then looked at the feet of his men, and saw it, his lightsaber, the only object that could save him now. The Sith raised his lightsaber and was just about to swing downwards to deliver the deathblow, when suddenly Owen outstretched his arm. Using force pull, he pulled his lightsaber towards him. The lightsaber flew through the air with incredible speed. The metal cylinder came to rest in his hand. The move caught the Sith assassin completely off guard, throwing off his swing. Owen raised his ligthsaber and swung sideways with blinding speed. The Sith assassin froze for a second before his torso fell from his waist, a result from Owen’s attack. The courtyard went silent. Owen expected the Sith to continue the battle on the Jedi, but instead he saw them become unnerved by the death of their leader. They then all turned and retreated from the courtyard. The Jedi ran over to Owen, ready to give him medical attention. Owen rose to his feet, but suddenly fell back onto the ground. The Jedi came to stand over him. One of them used the force in order to look into Owen and see if any life remained inside the Jedi. There was none. Owen was dead. The Jedi picked up Owen their shoulders and carried him to the transports. They were all thinking the same thing, they now had to retreat, and they had lost their last commander. Just let the Sith have the academy.
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witchdoctor187 Registered: Aug '07	Date Posted: 12/2/07 9:36pm Subject: RE: 300: The Last Stand of the Jedi
	IC: Owen Owen’s body lied on a medical cot inside one of Jedi transports that had just left the atmosphere of Ossus. Fay sat on a small stool next to Owen. Her hand clutched his and her head rested on the still chest of what used to be her lover. She sat there for nearly an hour, crying over Owen’s body. “I’m so sorry Owen,” she said through red and watery eyes. Then a very familiar voice came to whisper in her ear. “Sorry? Sorry for what?” said the voice. She quickly looked up into the face of Owen. His eyes were open and color had returned to his face. She quickly embraced him and started to cry. He raised his hand and ran it through Fay’s hair, and then kissed her on the forehead. “I told you I would come back to you. Didn’t I?” Said Owen in a soft whisper. “But how, you were dead.” Asked Fay ‘The Gods believed that it was not my time, not yet. They told me that I still have much to do down here,” Said Owen as he took Fay’s head in his hands and kissed her. He brushed his hand through her hair once more. “Don’t cry, I’m home now, for good.” OOC: I know very mushy, but what can I say I’m a romantic. But anyways that the end for me. You can all go about your ending the way you see fit. And I hope we can do this again sometime. Maybe make a sequel for the battles following Ossus, but someone else will have to be the GM since I was a terrible one, and for that I am sorry. Between school and writers blocks I really had no time to write. Good luck to you all
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Master_Dmentae Registered: Jun '06	Date Posted: 12/3/07 8:39am Subject: RE: 300: The Last Stand of the Jedi
	IC: Dmentae - Battle Dmentae saw Owen fall, with anuy mroe around hmi "This is not my calling" he said, flying to Nightshroud, picking him up and soaring out of the Academy, he looked back as a few Jedi fled it and then the Academy crumbled into dust. Dmentae was hit by a charge of the plasma cannon, but he was fine, being Gen'Dai. He looked down to Nightshroud, and they landed away from the Sith, making it look like a crash one, and it was at a high enough point to die instantyl ,of course the Sith diddn't nkow he was Gen'Dai. Dmentae called his ship, got in and beckoned Nightshroud. Tag: NS OOC: i know, not a death, but hell, how am i supposed 2 kill a Gen'Dai? thrwowi him into a sun? (i know that works, but still...) -----signature----- Ace Combat Fan - "Dancing with the Angels!" Xbox Live User - Dmentae Oblivion Fan - "By Azura By Azura By..." Star Wars Knowledge Fan "In appearance, the Knowledge Bank doesn't look all that impressive…" Whatever else you want me to be - "Insert Quote Her
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Sith-I-5 Registered: Aug '02	Date Posted: 12/6/07 12:00pm Subject: RE: 300: The Last Stand of the Jedi
	OOC: Sorry, looks like Ossus is lost and the seige is over. Little point in carrying on and I'm out too, then. -----signature----- “So what kind of quad-lasers has this thing got?” Stobb pressed, “Golan Arms or Taim & Bak KT-6s?” “Leave me alooone.” The pilot sobbed, “I didn’t build the sodding thing. I press a button, green light shoots out.” 007 family - DVC's twin bro'
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