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Author	Topic: Genocide
Mister_Master Registered: Oct '07	Date Posted: 4/11 6:59pm Subject: RE: Genocide
	IC: Zhul'Jin Zhul'Jin was sitting in a chair next to the Bed Kal was sleeping in, he was reading off a datapad when Kal shot up, he was searching the room for something, and by the look on his face it wasn't good. "Are you alright?" Zhul'Jin asked, even though he knew the answer. "Your safe, your in my ship. No one can harm you while your in here." Zhul'Jin said, trying to comfort him. "I'm Zhul'Jin. Mind if I look at you arm?" He said grabbing his medical bag. His Lekku twitched as he waited for an answer from Kal. Tag:Nick -----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. Pillow Maia: The irisistable urge to whack someone with pillows.
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Burning_Endor Registered: Mar '08	Date Posted: 4/12 3:49am Subject: RE: Genocide
	OOC: I understand completely; Darth RL is powerful in the dark side. Of Naer the Shy on Corbos As Naer finished his drink, savoring the cooling of his troat after the fiery spices of the upper portion of the beverage, the Ithorian finally got to the point, and made his job that much easier... If the Rodian could have smiled as a human, he would have; the Ithorian not only tried to sound calm, but look calm as well... and achieve neither. To an untrained eye, she would have looked like a gangster off of the B-Vid Nar Shaddaa Crime holos. Which was laughable in itself; Naer was a... businessman, to put it lightly. But he was no gangster. However, the simple fact that she had to try - for her could tell she was having to concentrate on staying calm - made her seem all the more vulnerable. But Naer had learned the hard way not to underestimate anyone... especially politicians. "I don't just think I can do better; I know I can. I have," and he held out his hands to demonstrate, "the entire sector under my influence. And I have for a good while; I'm sure you've noticed something awry in your neighboring systems." He proceeded to clasp his hands, place his elbows on the table, arms vertical, and look straight-faced at the Ithorian. "I have a healthy number of smugglers ready to take peice of the fabled 'Corbos Run.' And they're willing to pay just about anything to get in on the action. I propose-" Naer leaned back in the booth, ready to leave as soon as he finished, for something was surely about to happen; as a Human would say, he could feel it in his gut, "that you get a cut of he deal, if you help me get things started. Say, thirty percent of my profits, right into your pockets." Not waiting for a reply, he stood up and slid a business card over to Robyn, saying, "If you accept, contact me at this number. I'm staying in-system for a few days, but be quick, please..." At that, he finally saw what had been eating at him; three Weequay Bounty Hunters were slowly converging on his location, taking the long way around the patrons and service 'droids, trying not to act suspicious. Not that he couldn't take on three Weequay blindfolded and both hands behind his back, but he couldn't risk an encounter somewhere so public. It was then that he noticed they were definately amateurs; his best escape route, the front door, was clear away from the three Bounty Hunters. Too easy. Slowly, he picked his way through the crowd, once elicitng the agitated, feral growl of a Wookiee, and quickly made it to the front door. As he went through the door, he began to bolt through the semi-crowded walkways. It was then he realized his folly, as a sniper bolt came dangerously close to his person. The sight caused a good bit of commotion, making things much more difficult to navigate through. However, not another shot was fired in his direction, even as he boarded an open-air skytaxi. * * * 300 Astalair Hotel, Room 312 Naer kicked aside the litter in his apartment. He hadn't left his place of residence in such disarray; someone had been here, looking for him. That much was obvious. But who, he could never be sure. There were hundreds of beings who had put bounties on his head, and hundreds more looking for him. Good luck to them; hewasn't easy to kill. As he shifted through his disaster of an apartment, he noticed a piece of paper pinned to the wall. He looked at it closely trying to read the miniscule writing. "If," he began to read aloud, "you are reading this, then my compatriots didn't get to you in time. In which case, I do believe you should start running; I'm watching you. Signed... Vanheart the Ruthless." Recognition clicked; Vanheart was his former Black Sun contact. Then realization finally set in as the words from the note seeped in... and as he saw muzzle flash from the building across the airlane. He dove for cover, landing painfully on a sharp object- his blaster rifle, he realized, as he picked it up from underneath him. He checked the pack; it was at near-full power. He was set-and-ready to hold out, until the local police force came. If he didn't, they would only find a messy room and a blood stain or two. He could hear heavy footsteps outside the room, but it would take a minute for them to properly slice his locking mechanism. in that short span of time, he pushed the citizen's emergency button on the wall behind him. Better to explain why I'm on the hit list of a pirate than be dead, he thought as the door slowly began to open... Tag - Nick Of Trasii Yelnar on Ossus As the Grandmaster ate of the fruit of the tree, Trasii wanted to yell out, not in rage, but in joy. She had finally been assigned a new master, and, thankfully, a healer! Not caring that her eyes would betray her inner joy, not caring that Metellos was just as bad as Corsucant, not caring - rather, remembering - that her first master was gone, she bowed, a little too hastily, with respect to the Grandmaster, and said, "Thank you, Grandmaster Donn." Forgetting that the Grandmaster had not exactly dismissed her, she hurriedly went off to her quarters to pack her things... * * * Onboard Jedi Transport 361784 AKA "Skyhawk" The view of Metellos was breathtaking, just like Corsucant. Despite its lack of natural water formations, its floating cities held such splendor and magnificence that, for the moment, Trasii didn't much care. She had taken a long, soothing bath, and only got out whe the pilot came over the ship's comm, saying they were exiting Hyperspace. Her skin was no longer as dry as it had been on Ossus, but no doubt it would get worse on the urban planet. The pilot, who she was standing behind, began standard procedures; she had noticed already that he was very quick and efficient in everything he did, even when it came to eating meals, which there had been two of since she had come aboard. But, she had also found out, he had a very active sense of humor. "Ektra City Air Traffic Control, this is Jedi Transport Skyhawk, requesting vector and destination. Over." "Ektra City Air Traffic Control here. Copy that, Skyhawk. Sending vector and destination. Your temporary registration number is 55276. Repeat. Over," came the reply, filtered with thec noise of transmission through a smog-filled atmosphere. The pilot grinned, despite himself, and looked up at the Mon Calimari youth, mouthing, Stiffs. "Repeat, number is 55276. Over." "Good. Everything checks out... Ektra City Air Traffic Control, over and out." The pilot flipped off the comm switch and sat back, letting autonav take care of the easy landing. Typical transport pilot behavior. Moments later, the transport was landed and the young Mon Calimari was walking towards the innards of the city; hopefully, the buildings had air ducts, for the atmosphere nearly made her choke. She felt a 'shockwave' of air as the transport lifted off and began its return trip to Ossus. Now, she just needed to find Master Agar... Tag - Nick -----signature----- Vita est nex. Nex est licentia. Proud Member of the Game Designer's Guild
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popww Registered: Jul '07	Date Posted: 4/14 3:16am Subject: RE: Genocide
	GM Approved! Name: Kaler Nefil-Tu Species: Kiffar Gender: Male Personality: A quiet person, but really nice once you get to know him. He tends not to speak in front of people he doesn't know, but when he's with his friends, he can't stop talking and telling jokes. Back-story: Kaler was adopted by two loving, rich parents that found him in the street when he was 2 years old. His parents found out about his force-sensitivity a few years after. Around age 7, Kaler started feeling some weird energy pulses every now and then, that annoyed him and kept him awake at night. It'd been there for years, but at that age, it started to really get in his way. Every time he felt the pulse flowing through his body, he became flooded with energy and had to do something, usually running around or jumping up and down without any reason. But it never helped. To make the energy get out of his body, he had to concentrate. He could concentrate on one thing for hours, until the pulses stopped. Some times, he even made things move when he concentrated. When Kaler told his parents about the pulses, they laughed at first. But when he sowed them what he could do with them, the were left speechless. A 7 year old couldn't move the table without help, especially not without his hands. They were no strangers to Jedi and the Force, and they knew a few things about it. They understood Kaler was Force sensitive. But they didn't want to give their only child away to the Jedi, to become a warrior and die in battle. So they told him it was natural and kept it a secret from everyone else. Unfortunately, Kaler grew up to be a mean and rude kid, and even joined a gang. He helped his new friends sell Death sticks and weapons, and he even used some over the years. He became addicted to both Death stick and Alcohol, and spent most of his time with the gang. When he was 12 years old, the gang assigned him on a mission to kill a Rodian that skipped out on payment for Death sticks. They gave him an hidden vibroblade, which he tied to his hand inside the sleeve. Kaler was supposed to meet the Rodian in a specific dark ally to "sell him Death sticks", and stab him in the neck while he wasn't looking. The Rodian arrived and Kaler gave him what he wanted. When the Rodian leaned forward to take it, Kaler tried to reach for his neck, but he was too slow. The Rodian dodged and stepped backwards, immediately drawing his blaster. Kaler was shocked and helpless. The Rodian shot a few shots, but missed. It didn't look like he was going to miss the next time. Then, suddenly, Kaler felt one of those weird energy pulses flowing through his body... and he released a powerful force push that sent the Rodian flying and hitting the wall behind him. That's when Kale heard some yelling behind him, and before he knew it, two Jedi Knights jumped of the building to his left. They stopped the fight and returned Kaler to his home. His innocent, unsuspecting parents were shocked when the Jedi told them about the fight, and even more shocked when their son confessed and told them about everything he had done in the previous couple of months. That's when they decided to give him to the Jedi and make him train and join the order. At first, Kaler rejected the idea, but it was out of his hands. After a few harsh years of studying the force and learning discipline, Kaler became a knight and was fully dedicated to the order and the force. He no longer used Death sticks, but he was still addicted to alcohol, and he managed to drink when his superiors weren't watching. In age 25 he became a Master, and started teaching padawans at the Temple. He barely made it into the high council, but his abilities were remarkable. He had been able to often effectively manipulate Force abilities, even before training. When the virus came to Coruscant, he somehow didn't get infected. Some say it was because he was one with the force, some say it was pure luck, and some say it was a by-product of the alcohol he drank, but it's proab;y because he's not compleatly human. Personal Effects: A purple double-bladed lightsaber; Death Awaits - A modified Delta-7; Hidden vibroblade; R3-RB - Nicknamed Herbie; An alchoholic beverage of some sort. Home World: Coruscant. Physical Appearance: Long black hair, a big red tattoo from his chin to neck, clothing: http://www.geocities.com/daxius_666/jedi_robes.jpg (the left one). Affiliation: Jedi Order. Other Information: Kaler really likes alcohol, and he's almost addicted. He takes a bottle everywhere he goes, because his Jedi friends didn't seem to care. Alcohol helps him concentrate. He does try to hide it from strangers, though.
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KraytDragon90 Registered: Apr '05	Date Posted: 4/14 6:11pm Subject: RE: Genocide - Date Edited: 4/14 6:14pm (1 edits total) Edited By: KraytDragon90
	GM Approved Name: Val'istar Tyelka Species: Kadas’sa’Nikto (Green Nikto) Gender: Male Personality: Val’istar, mostly called Val, is a basic conundrum from start to finish. He does not go out of his way to be particularly easy to like or sociable, but to his comrades he is kind and generous. He’ll kill for his friends, but if they betray his trust, there’s not enough room in the galaxy to hide. He’ll show mercy to those he thinks deserves it, but no quarter is given to his enemies. Back-story: Val’istar grew up on Kintan, raised by his parents until the age of 18. The enterprising Nikto saw the virus and the sudden outbreak of crime as an opportunity to bring back some old trades. With a modified star-yacht as his vessel, he set out to seek his fortune. He hired himself out as a convoy guard, starship security, groundside security, and basically anything else that would earn him credits. On a jaunt to a small outpost on Sluis Van he ran into a Defel who went by the name ‘Ghost’. He was selling exotic weaponry and Val purchased a few minor items that caught his attention. Moments after Val left the vending stand, a troop of law enforcement arrested ‘Ghost’ for selling illegal weapons and confiscated his stock. He didn’t really care much at the time, but he soon recalled hearing somewhere that Defel’s were highly loyal once you earned their trust and incredibly good weaponsmiths. As he was the market for personal weaponry and the turrets on his ship were a pain to operate by himself, he paid for the Defel’s release. Ghost considers himself to be in Val’s debt and follows him to this day. Personal Effects: The Nova Flame, a star-yatch, modified with a pair of dual-turbolasers turrets, a heavy shield system, and a double bank of proton torpedoes. A blaster pistol carried on his person, a vibro-sword strapped to his back, and a pair of ceremonial daggers. Home World: Kintan Physical Appearance: Green scales, small horns surrounding his eyes and chin, ridge of horns along his head, and deep black eyes. Affiliation: None, hired mercenary. OOC: Sir Popww, for the crime of the theft of my icon, the only just punishment is death. You character is mine. ...Just kidding of course. Just never ran into anyone with the same icon as me. XD -----signature----- Naur En' Uuiana--Soul of Fire "Well I don't care, I'm still free. You can't take the sky from me." ~Can't stop the signal~
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DREAMSTAR Registered: Apr '06	Date Posted: 4/16 8:03am Subject: RE: Genocide
	NAME: Tetra Vien SPECIES: Defel GENDER: Male PERSONALITY: He is proud and independent to the point of stubbornness. He doesn’t like others to tell him what to do or how to do it. He is loyal to friends and employers, but not always trustworthy. He can be secretive and conniving. BACK-STORY: My name is Tetra Vien, though that is known to only a few. To the rest of the galaxy I am called ghost – unfair, really. Ghosts are dead things that come back to life as shadowy specters. They haunt and sometimes kill things and then vanish back into the night. Well I, for one, am quite alive, thank you, and intend to stay that way. So I guess I can see where they get it, but it’s been months since I’ve gotten a job to kill someone. There’s just not as much call for it these days, at least not until recently, which is fine. I’m not just an assassin. In fact, it’s not even what I do best. Don’t get me wrong – if you’re looking to have someone dealt with, I’m almost the best you’re going to find in these parts. But my greatest achievement is in the construction of the finest exotic weapons and armor in the galaxy, not to brag or anything. I am the best, that’s all, from b'hedda dug swingblade to a shyarn dueling scimitar and everything in between. In fact, I’ve even built an exact replica of an ancient Hutt battle armor, a full suit, mind you, for a client. Needless to say, the galaxy still likes its weapons, even if there hasn’t been a need to use them for a century. That’s a good thing. Even if ghosts don’t eat, I certainly do. Well, that’s enough about ghosts and weapons. You’re reading this because you wanted to know about me and my glorious exploits. I see no need to tell you about how I was born, how my father was, or the perfect child I was. Aah, if you believe that load of bantha fodder, then would you like to buy Darth Vader’s personal helmet? It’s on sale just for you. Anyway my home when I’m there is on Afei, a high-gravity planet orbiting the super-giant Ka'dedus in the outer rim. I’d love to take you there, it is truly among the marvels of the galaxy. Business was going well – I would line up some good jobs, maybe one assassination and two or three orders for a unique weapon, spend a few weeks crafting the orders, then pack it all up along with a variety of other weapons I’d like to sell. Then I’d take my ship, the Shadow-Runner, to deliver the goods and collect a good amount of credits along the way. That’s basically a brief account of how I was living, at least until the day I met the Nikto. I was laying low after having completed a large transaction for a Zabrak with a weakness for master craft Zhaboka, an expensive double bladed fighting pike. It had been hard work to create, but I had been paid quite well for it. I had then gone and set up shop at the local market. Business had been going quite well when the local security decided to arrest me for selling my fine merchandise – some nonsense about it being illegal. Lucky for me, Val’Star Tyelka, the Nikto that had bought a few blades from me that day, was generous enough to pay off the guards and set me free. He’s even offered me a job to work with him as a mercenary which has been quite an adventure, I must admit. Then as if working with mercenaries wasn't adventure enough, the humans got the notion to all go crazy and die on us causing panic and getting everybody upset. Very inconsiderate of them. Really, to go messing up the galaxy like that – truly bad form on their part, but it’s not all bad having the galaxy upset. Has opened up some new jobs and that’s great for those who know how to take advantage of such things. PERSONAL EFFECTS: His ship is the Shadow-runner, he wears green and gray flowing clothing and an assorted array of weapons, his favorites being a Togorian Vibro-Scimitar, a Kerestian Darkstick, and a Duo Blaster carbine. HOME WORLD: Af’El AFFILIATION: none -----signature----- Tell me of your greatest fear, so I will know what I must force you to face. Tell me what you cherish most, so I will know what to take from you. And tell me what you crave, so that I might deny you
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Burning_Endor Registered: Mar '08	Date Posted: 4/16 2:56pm Subject: RE: Genocide
	OOC: Here, Nicky, Nicky, Nicky... -----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: 4/17 2:32pm Subject: RE: Genocide
	GM OOC: I have to apologize, again, for the hesitant nature of this post. I went and caught myself a sickly chill, and have been busy digging my grave. I'll try to make the updates come around quicker, but I can promise nothing. Of Kal on Axxila Kal’s eyes shot nervously around, resting on Zhul’Jin. He tried to push himself away, but the nerves in his arm, told his brain to stop. Since he couldn’t move on his right arm, he tried pushing away on his left, but still, he could only go farther against the wall. Kal stopped moving and his eyes narrowed. He made a fine attempt at anger, but the fear was still ripe in his pupils. They quivered slightly. Kal spoke. “W-where the frang did you take me? I didn’t need your help. I could’ve skipped those glitbiters, whenever I wanted.” Tag - M_M --- Of Vanheart’s pirates on Corbos As the door opened, three blasters stuck from around the corners of it. They opened fire on the spot that Naer would have been, had he not been alerted by the sniper. In the chaos, the man across the lane pumped a round into one of Naer’s other assailants head. His body was thrown against the apartment corridor wall. One of the others, rolled across the doorway, revealing his Trandoshan scales. He resumed fire on the other side, but the slugs were harmlessly putting holes in the wall behind Naer. He was behind a dresser that Vanheart had thrown over, while in his room. Only one stray shot managed to hit the smuggler. The slug went straight through the metal and hammered into his left arm, breaking his elbow. If Naer wanted to see the light of day again, he would need to exchange blows. One well placed concussion grenade would do the trick, but could he aim for the small door, without rebounding the grenade back into his room? Tag - Endor --- Of Asaar Diire on Metellos Asaar glanced down the street at the Mon Calamari. He had seen her arrival two weeks ago and informed Master Agar. The Mere had had a similar message, but from his old friend Donn. Dom had sent the Iktotchi to collect the youth and send her on her way. Asaar could feel her presence, but only just. He had a limited connection to the Force, yet still always denied the offer of training. He felt himself too old to get into that kind of position. He was, in fact, 60. He was close to hitting his species life expectancy and didn’t want to waste Agar’s time. Still, he tried to sense her emotions, as he frequently did to others. He could feel simple excitement that covered another feeling. The hidden one was painful, but it was too hard to focus on it. Asaar stepped forward and spoke. “Welcome, to Metellos, Mon Cal.” Tag - Endor -----signature----- I love Matt's "As Father And Son." I've written my best in that game.
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Burning_Endor Registered: Mar '08	Date Posted: 4/19 4:30am Subject: RE: Genocide
	OOC: Nah, 'tis fine and entirely understandable. Now, whether the rest like Genocide enough to forgive, is another story. Of Naer the Shy on Corbos Naer grunted as the metal slug ripped through flesh and bone. Even worse than the initial impact of such a crude weapons, was the lingering pain in his elbow; likely it was shattered to all hell. Amazing, how such a weak-minded Rodian could pull off an ambush like this. He sighed (as much as a Rodian could sigh, at that), keeping the crackling sound just below the ambient noise level, and reached for a concussion grenade on his grenade belt... And realized it was gone. Keeping his head behind his cover, clear from his ambushers' line of sight, he frantically looked from one side of the room to another, until he spotted it; he had left it in his room when he had left to tempt the Ithorian. Fortunately, his rival hadn't bothered to take the grnades off the belt. Unfortunately, the belt was across the room; he'd be visible if he dove for it. Then again, he'd be dead if he didn't. Gathering tension in his legs, he mentally calculated the mathematics of the jump; a feat he was trained to do, and quite proud of such. Blaster slung on his right shoulder, keeping body low, Naer jumped for the cover behind which the belt lay (a wall, seperating the living area from the kitchen area), hoping he'd not be shot, bracing himself for unbearable pain when he hit the floor. Tag - Nick Of Trasii Yenar on Metellos “Welcome, to Metellos, Mon Cal.” Trasii stopped in her tracks, startled by the voice; obviously, its owner was addressing her, for there were no toher Mon Calimari in sight. A fact she found rather... unsettling. She turned to the originator of the voice to find an alien she could recognize looking her way. She walked over to him, avoiding stepping on the debris that littered the platform, a quizzical look in her eyes. "You have the advantage of me. I'm not even sure of your race," she said, then hastily adding, "No offense, of course;I've not been outside of Jedi Temples very often." Mentally, Trasii cursed herself for letting this stranger know she was a Jedi. On some worlds, she knew, that could be dangerous. 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: 4/22 3:25pm Subject: RE: Genocide
	GM OOC: I truly apologize for this, everyone, but I no longer have the will to continue this game. I regret having to drop this on you, but lately my schedule has gotten much, much tighter, and the openness of the story makes it hard to update as often as I would like. I had big plans for the game, which makes this all the harder, but I have to do what I think is right for everyone. -----signature----- I love Matt's "As Father And Son." I've written my best in that game.
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