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Author	Topic: Genocide
Darth_Ziantor Registered: May '05	Date Posted: 3/23 10:53am Subject: RE: Genocide
	GM APPROVED Name: Darth Ziantor Species: Zabrak Gender: Male Personality: Murderous, cold, calculating, patient. Menacing, threatening Back-story: A native of Irdonia, Darth Ziantor's records are no longer available in any database. As far as the outside world knows, he does not exist. Ziantor was discovered as Force-sensitive shortly after his first birthday, but before the Jedi could take him for training, a Sith Lord swooped in and kidnapped the boy. Over the next twenty years, Ziantor was trained in the Sith arts, learning the subtle art of treachery and deceit that the Sith specialize in. He also learned to fight, becoming one of the foremost lightsaber duelists in the galaxy. He is now the public face for his master to those who have dealings with the Sith. He is his master's voice, and the sole person who knows what the Dark Lord of the Sith truly looks like. However, his appetite for power has led him to look towards his master's throne, and he has taken on an apprentice, unbeknownst to his master. At the same time, his pupil has no idea that Ziantor is merely an apprentice himself. Personal Effects: Sith robes, dual phase lightsaber, shoto, Mandalorian crush gaunts, Home World: Irdonia Physical Appearance: Average height and weight. Yellow eyes. Unlike the Sith of the Old Republic and even Krayt's Order, Ziantor has tattooed his face bright blue with black markings, making him distinct. However, his face is rarely seen underneath the cowl of his robe. He wears the traditional Sith robes with military issue boots and Mandalorian crush gaunts. Affiliation: Sith Other: His goal is to bring about the return of the Sith. He wants to destroy the various feuding alliances, but the Jedi and the Kiel Revolt are his biggest threats, as the Derringer Enlightened have ideals that could lend themselves to Ziantor's takeover. -----signature----- Jacen Solo isn't a Sith... Sure, he's got the Sith name... But that doesn't make him a Sith
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MandalorianLegecy Registered: Mar '08	Date Posted: 3/23 11:12am Subject: RE: Genocide
	OOC: So, when we start, or..... how many people are you shooting for? -----signature----- Apprentice to SilverFighter Writer, Artist, and RPer - - See more in Profile
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NickLitYouAFlame Registered: Feb '07	Date Posted: 3/23 12:44pm Subject: RE: Genocide
	GM OOC: Patience. I am waiting for a few, or so, sheets. After that, we can start. -----signature----- Flannel Shoes
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Darth_Ziantor Registered: May '05	Date Posted: 3/25 7:56pm Subject: RE: Genocide
	OOC: So is this basically dead in the water or are we actually playing? I was looking forward to this one but haven't seen any movement in the past couple of days so I'm not sure anymore. -----signature----- Jacen Solo isn't a Sith... Sure, he's got the Sith name... But that doesn't make him a Sith
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Apadamek Registered: Jul '07	Date Posted: 3/25 8:35pm Subject: RE: Genocide
	((i havent sent in my CS or anything because i've had the Flu, just wanted to tell Nick you'll have one tomorrow))
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NickLitYouAFlame Registered: Feb '07	Date Posted: 3/26 1:46pm Subject: RE: Genocide - Date Edited: 3/26 1:52pm (1 edits total) Edited By: NickLitYouAFlame
	GM OOC: Sorry for the wait. This is definitly still on. I am typing opening posts and waiting for the last sheet from Apadamek. I should have the post up by this friday. Again, sorry for the lapse. -----signature----- Flannel Shoes
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MandalorianLegecy Registered: Mar '08	Date Posted: 3/26 1:50pm Subject: RE: Genocide
	OOC: Well it give last minuters to PM you their CS's, Right. -----signature----- Apprentice to SilverFighter Writer, Artist, and RPer - - See more in Profile
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NickLitYouAFlame Registered: Feb '07	Date Posted: 3/27 2:35pm Subject: RE: Genocide
	GM OOC: We are still waiting for Apadamek to post his sheet, but I am going to release my Opener, none the less. Make sure you read everything, by which, your character would be affected. In fact, make an attempt to stay informed on everything going on, because I hope to make this a very interconnected game. I will keep everyone posted. Have fun playing! Of Freeman Bors on Balmorra The wind whipped smog around the city. It swirled in a thick fog, covering buildings with a thin coat of slime. In the middle of Bin Prime, Freeman Bors tried, in vain, to wipe the mucus from his suit. Freeman was protected from the germs, in it, but couldn’t avoid the annoying particles from clinging to it. The disturbed Jedi had hoped that seeing his home world would put his mind at peace. The sad state of the planet, however, did nothing to quell his growing anxieties. Freeman turned away. He had docked his shuttle on the outskirts of the city. It was only a short walk there. Before the Jedi could even move, a pack of four Colicoids rolled into the deserted streets. Normally, four Colicoids would be a warm-up fight, but the radiation from the factories had mutated the life on Balmorra. Most had merely been killed, but Colicoids had been strengthened. Their skin was harder and resistant to attacks, perhaps even a cut from a lightsaber. The size alone, though, would be enough to alarm Freeman. These were no ordinary insects. The group rolled towards the Jedi and stopped in a semi-circle, blocking an escape towards his ship. It was a wide-known fact that Colicoids despised Jedi. One stepped forward and spoke in a gravelly voice. He gestured to the grime covered buildings as he talked. “This is an unpleasant surprise, human. Why are you in my city?” Tag - Sephy --- Of Zhul’Jin on Axxila Zhul’Jin emerged slowly from his ship. As the pressure adjusted, thick gas erupted from inside the ship. He waited for it to settle, before setting foot on the planet. His eyes scanned the landing pad. A few beat-up droids and a few aliens. It wasn’t eventful and Zhul walked angrily towards a hangar door. The only reason he had come to this godforsaken ecumenopolis, was to refuel. He assumed, perhaps unjustly, that nothing on the surface would aid his cause. He knew stories of the planet. Since Fel’s Empire and it’s fall to Krayt, the planet had grown wild. Criminals controlled the economy, and it was a well-known distributor of illegal arms. Zhul’Jin took another step, before spotting the running form of a small blue creature. With every step it took, Zhul became more interested. It was a thin, wiry Feeorin. The black Twi’lek could see that the youth was stumbling along. Zhul’Jin remained rooted, transfixed by the sight. It was only when the child ran headlong into him, did he react. Tag - Mister_Master --- Of Feru Dorn on Coruscant Feru Dorn stalked the high tops of the skyscrapers. A small speeder lay behind him, he looked out on the busy city. Even at night, Coruscant was active with species that had no need for sleep. Feru, having been born in the desert, had only once seen any planet of this scale. New Corellia was growing, and there were undeveloped regions, still. The magnitude of life on the world was daunting. The thought of pinpointing one, was an even harder thing to imagine. It helped that he knew his targets status and thus his location. 500 Republica. His man was a Nalroni senator, called Sisal. Beyond that, Feru knew little of his target. He did know the floor level of his target, but not of it’s defenses. He leaned against the railing of the building. It was a long fall and Feru took a step back. The height was frightening. He walked back to his speeder and started it’s engine. The roar momentarily drowned out all of sound, before settling to a low whine. Feru could hear a kink in the engine, but a repair would have to wait until after his kill, if ever. Tag - MandalorianLegecy --- Of Naer the Shy on Corbos Since the Leviathan, Corbos had been looked over for plans of expansion. It was only in the last hundred years that Corbos Mining City was inhabited again. At first, people were skeptic of it’s chance for success. The growth had been prevented once, so it could happen again. But, that was the way it was with every business. You had to take chances. So far the gain was far more beneficial than the risk was costly. Corbos Mining City was thriving in it’s first fifty years. And, in the past five, sales had skyrocketed. A major shipwright company had made a deal with the now filthy rich owners of the mines. Because of the high sales and connection to such a large manufacturer, prices were through the proverbial roof. The high purity attracted the attention of smaller businesses, and after them, the many smugglers in the galaxy. It became a challenge, to see who would take the first slice of pie. Less known criminals were doubtful that they would even get some crust, but smugglers like Naer Shy’attuk, who had an entire chain of smuggling rings, were salivating over the large piece with all the fruit. So far, a few had tried to break into the circle of businessmen and women, that held council over the mines, but there attempts were in vain. No one could break the tight group, many of the suitors having been carted off to Kessel and Kiffex, and other prison worlds. But, Naer knew how to work a crowd and was busy probing for a weak member. One looking to make good on a little side-dealings. It had taken weeks, but his focus was set on Robyn Thulls, a small megalomaniac Ithorian. And, she was entering the cantina, in which Naer was sitting. She looked cautiously around, her eyes slightly guilty and her face feigning innocence. Tag - Endor --- Of Trasii Yelnar on Ossus The wind whipped at the robes of Jedi padawan, Trasii Yelnar. Under her midnight blue clothing, her skin was annoyingly dry. It had been a long time since she had felt the cool brush of liquid. In the beginning of her Jedi career hadn’t had the time to swim, but when the death of her master came about, she faced more and more time at leisure. She grew accustomed to swimming, but her duties had recently surfaced, with the imminent threat of war. She was busy flying across the galaxy, doing this and assisting with that. She loved the chance to travel, but would welcome journeying back to Manaan and the endless seas. Until then, Trasii would have to endure boring planets like the training world of Ossus. After it’s destruction at the hands of Darth Stryfe, in 137 aby, and it’s reconstruction by the Jedi, immediately following the war, it served as the main learning grounds for young Jedi. Trasii sat in the gardens, her cloak still rustling in the wind. Faintly, the sounds of a mock battle were emanating from the large public sparring room. She had once enjoyed watching the muscular brutes of her Order beat upon each other senselessly, but Kyluh Donn, the new Grandmaster, had instructed her to wait for him. She was beginning to grow impatient. Just as she was standing up to leave the garden, Kyluh turned the corner and Trasii came face to face with the Rutian Twi’lek. She blushed and looked at the ground. The thin Master, spoke in a surprisingly deep, rasping voice. “I told you to wait in the gardens, Trasii. That was an order, not a request. And yet, here you are, primed to go off to your own devices.” There was look of amusement of Kyluh’s face, but his voice was pure business. His kind eyes searched the Mon Calamari, waiting for her response, and most likely an excuse. Tag - Endor --- Of Saret “Deuce” Vo’sark on Ylesia It was a known-fact that Ylesia was the home to the Besadii Hutts. Specifically, Gael Besadii Aora. He was the current leader of the Besadii clan. His control spread far past Hutt Space, but was prominent on Nar Shaddaa. He was very lenient with the going-on there, but when someone stepped out of his station, it made the Hutt angry. One of these people was a smuggler, Naer Shy’attuk. In fact, he was the only one. Because, when someone crossed Gael, he eliminated them. Naer was no different, but it was taking longer. His normal bounty hunters had met their ends trying to ensnare the elusive Rodian. Gael had been forced to seek outside help and he had come up with Saret “Deuce” Vo’sark. The kid was a natural, efficient killer. He had a high success rating and a brutal mentality that appealed to the bloodthirsty Hutt. He knew that the dangerous Bothan wouldn’t resist a challenge. It would only further prove his brilliance in the hunt, if he could take the life of such difficult prey. In Peace City, was where Deuce would find his contractor. Gael was a flashy Hutt and held quarters in a large mansion. It was filled with thugs, slaves, smugglers, bounty hunters and all the other scum of the galaxy. One of the most dangerous strongholds to break into, Gael was rarely spied upon. The fact that he surrounded himself by so many loyal servants, made him confident. Tag - Ziantor --- Of Darth Ziantor on Shola On the ruined surface of Shola, only in a protective suit, can you prosper. The volatile nature of the volcanoes dotting the planet, lead it to be a dangerous abode. It is not considered a site of much travel, yet Darth Ziantor found himself there. He was used to having to hide his face, but he was growing increasingly tired of being called to meet his Master on such backwater planets. Some of them were no longer on any astrogation charts and finding them wasn’t worth the information it procured. Ziantor had completed enough of his training to be able to survive away from his Master, but he could not kill him. The mysterious figure had other responsibilities to take care of, before his time was up. Ziantor walked calmly, with purpose, across the ashy ground. He made his way over to a ruined droid. His Master enjoyed ploys such as this, using technology to speak. Perhaps it was a show of his immense eccentricity. Ziantor stopped before the protocol droid. It was hidden under another protective suit, to keep from the wear of the fiery planet. When Ziantor came within six feet of the droid, a voice seemingly bodiless, and emanating from the ground itself coughed. His way of communication made Ziantor constantly paranoid that his Master was in his physically presence. “Oh, my dear son, it is so nice to see you. What brings you to this peaceful world?” Tag - Ziantor --- Of Elzar Suars on Skylight Station near Alsakan Like a beehive, Skylight Station worked efficiently as a criminal headquarters. It had recently been taken over by Elzar Suars and under his tutelage, it prospered. His knowledge was mostly of the workings of the underworld, so he managed well. He was slightly ignorant of Galactic politics, namely the deal between the Alsakan government and the station, though. A bloody battle had been fought between the criminals aboard the Space station and the military forces, planet-side. When no clear victor could be determined, the two groups cut their losses and signed a hushed treaty. The Alsakans let the station stay in orbit, in exchange for a cut of their profits. In the room outside of Elzar’s makeshift office, crashes could be heard. Two of the corrupt on Alsakan, had boarded the station. They planned to make sure Elzar knew his place. --- Dia Lynn and Wesley Hunt had pushed their way into the inner sanctum, if you could call it that, of Elzar’s station. They had luckily caught him on a day, when the Aqualish was on the satellite. But, an overtly loyal Arconan, Coho Zinnia had blocked their path. He was a formidable looking creature, with large muscles and scars crossing his face. He spoke out in protest to the officer’s intrusion. “Elzar will not see you, now. He requested privacy for the rest of the day.” The disagreement took a dark turn, when Dia let her blaster show. Immediately, Coho pulled his own weapon out. Both the peacekeepers, matched his firepower and yelling broke forth. Wesley, growing tired of the confrontation, distracted Coho. While he was looking the other way, Dia took the initiative to kill the alien. A slug through the head, Coho dropped dead to the floor. The two officers kicked down the door, to find a disgruntled Elzar sitting at his desk. Tag - Apadamek -----signature----- Flannel Shoes
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MandalorianLegecy Registered: Mar '08	Date Posted: 3/27 3:24pm Subject: RE: Genocide - Date Edited: 3/27 4:22pm (5 edits total) Edited By: MandalorianLegecy
	IC: Feru Dorn Coruscant Feru flew off into the crowded air passages. He used the built in computer on his Swoop bike to guide him to his target. Feru flew passing over and under large vehicles. When he passed through them he got to a Hotel Complex, the only light on was at his target’s location. Feru docked on a landing bay at 500 Republica. When Feru had entered the Home and all the functions of the home worked, doors, lights, and communication Consoles. Feru Went upstairs where Sisal was located. ‘This should be easy, or not’ Feru Thought Feru got to Sisal’s room, it was locked. He sliced the keypad on the door, and it slid open. Feru went into the room, walking carefully amongst the room. Feru drew his Lightsaber, and was ready to use it. Sisal was asleep on a Royal Blue couch. Feru put his Lightsaber away when Guards ran out from the corners in Sisal’s room. They were armed with Blaster Rifles, and Vibroblades. Feru used the force to get his lightsaber, igniting it in the process. “So, you think this will stop me?” Feru Questioned, going into fighting Stance "Your Mistaken" Tag: Nick -----signature----- Apprentice to SilverFighter Writer, Artist, and RPer - - See more in Profile
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Burning_Endor Registered: Mar '08	Date Posted: 3/27 3:26pm Subject: RE: Genocide - Date Edited: 3/27 4:21pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Burning_Endor
	OOC: Wonderful openings, Nick! I'll see if I can follow up appropriately with my post. Of Naer the Shy on Corbos The object of Naer's attention, the Ithorian, Robyn Thulls, began to walk cautiously towards him. She eminated weakness; Naer could practically smell it. She was the perfect target for his grand scheme, no doubt. But he still had to be careful; the wrong words might dissuade her from helping him. She came over to the booth he sat in and looked into his face, trying to look like she was the one in control, the one with all the cads on the table. He would let her keep her fancies, let them work to his advantage. "Greetings, Councilwomen Thulls. Please; I would feel honored if you took a seat at this booth," he said, keeping his voice steady, though not bothering to slow down his speech; talking naturaly in Rodese would make the Ithorian believe that he thought she was at least an equal, certainly. In modern times, most Rodians talked slower to aliens, attempting to avoid any unnecessary misunderstandings. Tag - Nick Of Trasii Yelnar on Ossus “I told you to wait in the gardens, Trasii. That was an order, not a request. And yet, here you are, primed to go off to your own devices,” Kyluh Donn, the Grandmaster, said, his voice all-business, though there was a bit of a mischevous twinkle in his eye. Trasii instantly regretted having become impatient; one of the many lessons she should have already larned is patience for it was an integral part of learning the Healing Arts. Embarassed, she looked down at the moss-covered ground, trying to think of what to say. "I am sorry, Grandmaster. I will remember to be more patient in the future." Trasii continued to look down at the ground, waiting for the Grandmaster to pass judgement. Tag - Nick -----signature----- Vita est nex. Nex est licentia. Proud Member of the Game Designer's Guild
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NickLitYouAFlame Registered: Feb '07	Date Posted: 3/27 3:52pm Subject: RE: Genocide - Date Edited: 3/27 4:09pm (1 edits total) Edited By: NickLitYouAFlame
	GM OOC: Thank you, Endor. I appreciate the input. MandalorianLegecy: Go and read your tag, again. I specifically said that Sisal would be at 500 Republica, the apartment complex that housed Padme's suite. Please, redo your response, in accordance to that fact. -----signature----- Flannel Shoes
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Darth_Ziantor Registered: May '05	Date Posted: 3/27 4:33pm Subject: RE: Genocide - Date Edited: 3/27 4:34pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Darth_Ziantor
	IC: Saret "Deuce" Vo'sark Deuce strolled through the crowded streets of Peace City on Ylesia. The wily Bothan had been down at The Shattered Moon cantina when a Twi'lek had come up to sit by him at the bar. The man had passed silently slid a piece of flimsiplast along the counter to Deuce. Underneath was a credit chip with two hundred credits attached to it. "My master wishes to speak with you," the Twi'lek had whispered. "He has heard of your reputation and wants to hire you. It's a great honor. My master only hires private contractors on the most rare of occasions. To be hired by him means that you have extraordinary skills. If you would like to know more, arrive at this address at 1500 hours. You'll find a very attractive offer waiting for you." Deuce had slid the credit chip in his pocket and sipped his drink as he looked at the flimsiplast. He knew this address. It was Gael the Hutt's mansion. The gangster was very flashy. Most criminals liked to keep as below the radar as possible. Not Gael. He loved to be seen in public, usually on a floating hoversled accompanied by no less than ten bodyguards, each armed to the teeth. It was rumored that he had his own private army to protect him in his fortress. Entering through the front gates was basic and would only get him a regular fee. If Deuce wanted to live up to his reputation, he would have to do the impossible: break into Gael's throne room. Reaching into his belt, Deuce pulled out his datapad and started planning his entry. It would be simple enough to slice the alarm code. It would be the private guards that would be tough. Janix looked at his array of weapons. Stokhli stun batons. Blasters set on stun. He even had a couple of nets with electrodes that induced a shock that rendered captives unconscious. And of course, the ever popular nerve gas. Deuce approached the house from the rear. Using his microbinocs, he spotted two Barabel guards on the roof and another two Weequay guards on the ground. Pulling out a stun grenade, he lobbed it towards the roof. At the same time, he pulled out the dual blaster pistols that had earned him his nickname and shot each Weequay in the face with a stun bolt. Sliding up to the house, he pulled out his datapad. A simple bypass of the code would trigger a secondary alarm. Using a special system, Deuce had the alarm spit out the original code and entered it manually. Opening the door, he unleashed a canister of nerve gas to knock out any other guards. Once the gas had cleared, he entered the premises. Rushing up staircases, he continued to shoot bolts at oncoming guards. Eventually, he made his way to Gael's throne room. Upon entering, he immediately had ten blaster rifles pointed directly at him. He dropped to his stomach and yelled "Don't shoot. I'm Deuce Vo'sark. I had information about a job." Praying that the Hutt lord would be quick to stop his guards, he waited. TAG: Nick ***** IC: Ziantor Ziantor stood patiently as the protocol droid spoke to him with his Master's voice. Sometimes he wondered as to the sanity of the Dark Lord of the Sith, always choosing odd ways to speak and employing strange meeting places. He knew that his Master was powerful, but the day Ziantor was to overthrow him was coming soon. The man was losing a hold on reality. Still, Ziantor humored him. Though he was slipping some, he was still a powerful and cunning man. His Master was plotting something that only Ziantor knew about. Something so elaborate that it would make that ancient fool Darth Sidious' plan to overthrow the Old Republic look like child's play. Ziantor reveled in this knowledge, knowing that someday it would be his plot to continue, with his own apprentice. But enough for now. His Master was speaking to him. "You asked me to come here, Master, so that you may inform me of your next move in this intergalactic chess game, and show me what part I am to play. I implore you Master, tell me what I must do to help return the Sith to their rightful place as rulers of the galaxy! TAG: Nick -----signature----- Jacen Solo isn't a Sith... Sure, he's got the Sith name... But that doesn't make him a Sith
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Apadamek Registered: Jul '07	Date Posted: 3/27 5:10pm Subject: RE: Genocide - Date Edited: 3/27 5:12pm (1 edits total) Edited By: Apadamek
	Elzar Suars Elzar sat behind a large desk in the makeshift headquarters of the station he controlled. A small pad was in front of him, it told the going price for spice by his best dealer. Elzar read it slowly, his lips moving a little bit as he read the words to himself. Across the desk was strewn hundreds of ad's for expensive chronometers and fancy speeders. Heavily respected financial holo-news reports were played all over the head quarters. Elzar had the reports on mute as the words many of the speakers said had no meaning to him, interest rates, stocks, funds, he cared not for those. Why trust money you earned to people who obviously weren't successful enough to have their own? it boggled the mind. He heard commotion outside but was without worry, a burly Arcona was on guard outside. Elzar heard shots, his bad mood increased as the door was kicked open, his hand went to his blaster pistol in fury, drawing it and pointing it at the two intruders. "What are you doing on my station!" his voice was deep and his basic was slightly slurred as he spoke. His small black eyes were slits of confusion and anger. The eyes went to the corpse behind them and he began to get a little confused. Who was stupid enough to actually go onto his station like this, the officials had surrendered to them. His tusks gleamed as he awaited their answer. Tag: Nick
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SephyCloneNo15 Registered: Apr '05	Date Posted: 3/27 10:53pm Subject: RE: Genocide
	IC: Freeman Bors Balmorra “This is an unpleasant surprise, human. Why are you in my city?” It hadn't been the twitch in the Force, nor even the intimidating presence of the Collicoids right in front of me, but rather the voice of the creature that broke my reverie. It was a good question: why was I there? There were billions of answers to the question, each of which could be extrapolated to billions of branches of linear time were one to be correct and the others incorrect. Each answer could be translated into trillions of languages and take on thousands of possible subtleties, increasing the number of possible answers exponentially. Each of the billion billion answers, when examined through one of a billion philosophical lenses, would gain yet a billion more possibilities. And yet it all came back to the great nothingness of my' existence. I am... was?... am?... were?... after all, nothing, one of a species that will soon become nothing, on a planet occupied by no one, orbiting a star which will eventually collapse into a black hole, the greatest nothing, in a Galaxy that will shortly, from a geological or astrological standpoint, become nothing. The creatures threatening me were nothing more than the furthest evolution of one of the simplest genres of creatures: insects. But in that evolution lay limitless possibilities. Limitless answers to the question of why anyone is anywhere. Coupled with the fact that the question could be asked of anyone, anywhere, there was an infinite number of answers to a question which could be asked infinitely. Infinite answers, each infinitely correct, from a certain point of view. But because anyone anywhere could be asked by anyone anywhere and answer any way, there was no correct answer for the question. Anything was right, and therefore everything was the wrong answer. All was correct, thus nothing was correct. I casually looked between the four Collicoids, beings who ages ago had designed Droidekas, battle droids which could travel quickly by rolling into a wheel-like configuration, like their creators. The wheel, based on a circle, an form with no beginning and no end. Was the circle a fitting analogy for existence? Ever repeating, never-ending. If so, my previous thoughts relating to a linear timeframe are flawed and must be reexamine. Something to meditate on when I return to There is No Chaos. I wasn't getting anywhere. Balmorra was a dusty ball of nothing. I should have taken my leave, but...right. Collicoids. They had asked me a question: Why was I here? Why was I here? What had drawn me here? Why was anyone anywhe...no. Need to focus. Answer their question. Leave in peace. Why had I come? Stang, they looked impatient. Was I keeping them from something pressing? How long had they been waiting for me? How much longer will I make them wait? What drew me to Balmorra? Why, of every possible combination of letters and numbers punched into any navicomp in any ship in the galaxy, did I choose to enter these coordinates into the navicomp of my ship? "I..." I really didn't have an answer for them. I had billions of answers which could be translated into billions of languages, take on trillions of nuances in each language, and be examined by billions of philosophies, and yet none of them explained why I had chosen to come to Balmorra. "I don't remember what brought me here. Honestly. There are a billion billion answers which can be translated into a billion billion languages and take on a billion billion subtleties in each, and I could probably come up with at least twenty or thirty of them before you moved on, but none would really effectively communicate what brought me here, and I think it would be best if you just let me go through to my ship." Tag: GM -----signature----- Member: GDG, GMG. Sub-GM: CDG Zam Wessel Lives! Recipient of Thrawn McEwok's Squib Creations Limited-Edition Replica Glove of Darth Vader™ "Samuel L. Jackson isn't only a fine actor, but a gamer. He's one of us." ~ Kotaku
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Mister_Master Registered: Oct '07	Date Posted: 3/28 11:49am Subject: RE: Genocide
	IC: Zhul'Jin Axxila It all happened so fast, first he was watching a kid run and trying to figure out if it was for pleasure, or he was running to survive. And then he was lying on his back with a child on top of him. How did this happen? I must be getting old if I can let kids run into me. He thought as he got up. "What in the blazes are you running from?" He asked while brushing the dirt off his clothes. "Well speak up." He said as he helped the boy too his feet. Tag:Nick OOC: my apology's for not getting this up last night, the internet was giving me problems. -----signature----- Proud Apprentice of Thrawn1786 Jedi Knight in the SWC New Jedi Trials / Minister of War in the SWC Rebel Alliance Droid Senator of the EUC droid fanclub Ib'tuur jatne tuur ash'ad kyr'amur. PillowMania: The irisistable urge to whack people with pillows.
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