SWRPF Archive Genocide

OOC: Wonderful openings, Nick! I'll see if I can follow up appropriately with my post.

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Of [b][color=darkred]Naer the Shy[/color][/b] on [i]Corbos[/i]

The object of [b]Naer's[/b] attention, the Ithorian, [b]Robyn Thulls[/b], 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.

[color=darkred]"Greetings, Councilwomen Thulls. Please; I would feel honored if you took a seat at this booth,"[/color] 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.

[b]Tag - Nick[/b]


[hr]

Of [b][color=blue]Trasii Yelnar[/color][/b] on [i]Ossus[/i]

[color=blue][i]?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,?[/i][/color] [b]Kyluh Donn[/b], the Grandmaster, said, his voice all-business, though there was a bit of a mischevous twinkle in his eye.

[b]Trasii[/b] 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.

[color=blue]"I am sorry, Grandmaster. I will remember to be more patient in the future."[/color]

Trasii continued to look down at the ground, waiting for the Grandmaster to pass judgement.

[b]Tag - Nick[/b]

 

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.

 

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 ret

 

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

 

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

 

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.

 

GM OOC: Apadamek, I still need you to post your sheet. Good responses, guys.

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Of [color=chocolate][b]Robyn Thulls[/b][/color] on [i]Corbos[/i]

Robyn took her seat. She made sure not to smile, only nodding. Her curved neck twitched and she shifted uncomfortably. Once she was situated, Robyn returned the Rodian?s salutations. She maintained the Rodese tongue, expertly translating her words.

[color=chocolate][i]?Thank you, very much. I am sure I know of your intents, but I am curious as to how you came to know my name.?[/i][/color]

Robyn hoped that her show of mastery of the Rodian?s speech, would impress the male. Robyn relaxed, a bit, and leaned away from the table. Underneath it, her hand had left the handle of her hold-out blaster.

[b]Tag - Endor[/b]
[color=purple][b]---[/b][/color]

Of [color=green][b]Fargho[/b][/color] on [i]Coruscant[/i]

The men with blasters, held. They didn?t stray, as they were trained for this type of enemy. Sisal had been growing more and more paranoid. He had recently began setting up guards, to watch his home, as he slept. It turned out to be a necessary precaution.

It was true, that blasters would have no effect on Feru, but the other men weren?t afraid. They knew something that Dorn, did not. Sitting around the corner, was a Cathar. A very dangerous Cathar called Fargho, and Fargho had just been woken up.

From behind the wall, came the massive feline. His face spoke undeniable rage and in his colossal hands, was a vibrosword, resistant to lightsaber and razor sharp. He rubbed sleep from his eyes and roared.

[color=green][i]?I will stop you.?[/i][/color]

Fargho leaped forward, he sword held aloft in one hand, seemingly weightless in his powerful grip. The room was large enough for his blows to swing full. His first came like lightning at Feru?s head.

[b]Tag - MandalorianLegecy[/b]
[color=purple][b]---[/b][/color]

Of [color=blue][b]Kyluh Donn[/b][/color] on [i]Ossus[/i]

Kyluh winked at the Mon Calamari youth. She was a good healer and a good person, one with whom, Kyluh enjoyed making conversation. He nodded and motioned for her to walk with him. He set off at a leisurely pace, making his way back through the gardens.

The Ossus greenery was one of Kyluh?s favorite places in the Order. They represented the best of life, without it?s complications. He found little fault in the lives of flora. His eyes scanned the flowers as he spoke.

[color=blue][i]?Are you discontent, with your surroundings? Be truthful, now. I can tell when you lie, Padawan Trasii.?[/i][/color]

[b]Tag - Endor[/b]
[color=purple][b]---[/b][/color]

Of [color=darkred][b]Gael the Hutt[/b][/color] on [i]Ylesia[/i]

Gael laughed when the Bothan entered the throne room, through the primary entrance. He had been expecting a different way in. This seemed so easy, like a cop-out, but just as gutsy as always. That was what he liked about Deuce. He was always performing daring kriffing feats, leaping from speeders and such. He spoke lightly in Basic.

[color=darkred][i]?That was unexpected. I had you penned for a roof man. I was thinking more like an explosion blows debris all over this room, and while my men are still shocked from the blast, you put a gun to my head. Now that would have been a beautiful entrance.?[/i][/color]

Gael slid slowly over to Vo?sark. He leaned over and sniffed. He smelled alright, if a bit musty. Gael looked over his weapons. They looked right, as well. And, he saw no annoying lightsaber hilt. He hated the old Jedi, turned bounty hunter routine. It was getting entirely old and it only took one well-placed sniper bolt to completely obliterate them.

But, Gael knew. He knew that it took natural skill to succeed as a hunter, especially in the present era. An instinctive bounty hunter would be able to sense a sniper from a mile away. He could kill them wit ha blaster pistol, too. That was what Deuce could do.

[color=darkred][i]?Alright, let the kid up.?[/i][/colo

 

OOC: my next post will be late due to problems with the internet. Just giving you a heads up.

 

IC: Freeman Bors
Balmorra

Fighting with the Force must always be strange when narrated to a non-Force-sensitive. My lightsaber was in my hands immediately. It cast a sickly yellow glow on the dusty deserted planet. Red blaster bolts were bouncing harmlessly off of it. Independently of my mind, the blade was jumping to meet them and bat them back at my enemies.

And I was still trapped in my thoughts, infinitely pondering existence. If the Force were to fail me, my existence would be wiped out. If a blaster bolt hit one of the Collicoids, they would cease to exist. Except matter is never created nor destroyed, so no one would be ceasing to exist, they would simply be matter without life. Dead lumps of carbon. And alive, we are only living lumps of carbon, so do we really exist while alive...

Tag: GM

 

Of Der Fenn on Balmorra

Despite the apparent wanderings of Freeman Bors mind, what combat prowess he had once had, was not yet deserting him. Even in his damaged state, he was able to kill the three Colicoids without difficulty. Their mutations were not enough to save them.

In his absence of mind, Freeman's body did the work. It twirled and spun, creating a whirlwind of yellow. One Colicoid lay with three blaster wounds to it?s abdomen, while the other two were cut up; an arm lay here and two legs there.

Der Fenn fell backwards in pain, his last breath coming to him. He was stubborn up to it. His final words were a curse upon all Jedi. They were unintelligible, however, as blood erupted from his mouth, causing the speech to be swallowed by gurgling.

Der Fenn?s last sight, served only as an affirmation of his life?s prejudices. The Jedi stood disregarding, to the death he had caused.

Tag - Sephy

 

OOC: My computer is having problems with the RP so until I get it fixed I will have to cut my posts in half.

IC:Zhul'Jin


As the kid tried to stand, Zhul'Jin could tell how tired he was. He watched as the kid tried to speak. "I was... my family... Killed..." The kid said just before he fell, Zhul'Jin caught him and yelled back into the ship. "2-1T get down here." He called to his droid. "Yes Master." came the reply. The droid came running down the ramp, and stopped when he saw the boy. "Stop starring a him, and get over here you bucket of bolts." He said while taking the boys pulse.

Too be continued:

 

Here is the rest:


"Master please don't insult me, I do my best to be a nurse." Came the droids reply as he laid out a stretcher. "I'm only as good as you make me, so if I'm stupid its not my fault." Zhul'Jin couldn't believe this, theres a kid needing medical attention, and his medical droid is complaining about not being smart enough. "What is this galaxy coming to" he thought as they put the child on the stretcher, and took him to the medbay of the ship.


Tag:Nick

 

1. Name: Elzar Suars

2. Species: Aqualish

3. Gender: Male

4. Personality: Elzar is down to earth and brutal. He is coarse and unsophisticated despite a deep set desire to become so, he attempts to use his money to cover this up.

5. Back-story: Born in the lower parts of Nar Shaada Elzar Suars had a destiny. He was going to be a thug and die young, its what happened to most of his family and the few that lived past their twenties had kids and died at their thirties. Elzar never liked the thought of this fate but he couldn't do much about it, he grew bulky and strong like his brothers and scored badly in school, dropped out and was on the streets with his brothers. But he was more internally stronger, not smart but Elzar had a knack for knowing what not to touch and what to sell.

These street smarts helped him stay alive and safe from the various means which terminated his family. He joined a small organization which peddled spice and slowly made his way up, when the humans started to die his simple mind had an idea.

Passing it along through the addicts he knew he let on that there might just be a cure on a old very spiritual
planet and only Elzar knew the co-ordinates. People flocked, Elzar of course simply killed the desperate humans and made off with their credits giving him a new form of cash flow. This has allowed him to raise his rank in the crime world.
6. Personal Effects: Blaster Pistol, variety of credits, spice pouch.

7. Home World: Nar Shaada

8. Physical Appearance:[image=http://images.wikia.com/starwars/images/2/2f/AqualishNEGAS.jpg]

9. Affiliation: Crime

10. Other: Elzar always keeps a small pouch of spice to market out, but it has another purpose. He often uses the spice when interrogating or to get addicts on the streets to help him if something bad happens.))

Elzar Suars


Who did these people think they were? they ordered him around? this was his station. He laid a large hand down on the desk, the other still pointing the blaster at the two. "Well then, i suppose i'll just have to pay. How much?" Elzar didn't like this whole, hint business. Not that he planned to lose the credits, once those two were gone he'd grab some thugs and have them fall prey to a terrible malfunctioning airlock on their ship. He smiled at his brilliance. "So! how much?!"

Tag: Nick

 

OOC: Sorry it took me so long to reply.

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Of [b][color=darkred]Naer the Shy[/color][/b] on [i]Corbos[/i]

The Ithorian managed to speak in fluent Rodese, hardly a small feat. Maybe she wasn't quite as weak as he had thought. However, she was still the perfect target for his plans?

[color=darkred]?I?m sure you will understand that, due to reasons best left unmentioned, it is best that I leave my contacts names out of the picture. However, suffice to say that? a friend of mine knows of you and your accomplishments? But before we begin to speak of business, let us have a drink. On me, of course.?[/color]

Before the Ithorian could answer, Naer motioned for the service ?droid to come over to his booth. The ?droid in question moved very awkwardly and its gears whirred with a need of a good cleaning. It was strange that such a well-kept Cantina had such horrid service ?droids.

[color=darkred]?I?ll have an Icefire, and you will have??[/color] he said looking over at Robyn.

[b]Tag - Nick[/b]

[hr]

Of [b][color=blue]Trasii Yelnar[/color][/b] on [I]Ossus[/i]

Trasii pondered the question. Despite the beauty of the gardens on Ossus, there was something missing; water. She yearned for the endless seas of the ocean world, Manaan. She ached for the cool brush of the currents and for the small fish in the sea to caress her with compassion. She missed it nearly too much to bear.

[color=blue]?Master? the gardens are beautiful here but? they lack??[/color] She tried thinking of a way to put it; after all, the Master was hardly Mon Calamari.

[color=blue]?They lack the wonder and splendor of the ocean. I... guess I miss the ocean. Miss Manaan.?[/color] She didn?t bother to add, [i]But most of all... I miss my Master.[/i]

[b]Tag - Nick[/b]

 

IC: Saret "Deuce" Vo'sark

Saret looked up at the Hutt crime boss from his position on the floor. He quickly flipped himself up to his feet, a small feat that he used to further display his agility.

"As you'll notice, my lord, not a single one of your guards has been killed. They have all been neatly incapacitated, either stunned with a blaster or knocked unconscious with coma gas. I understand how hard it is to find loyal guards these days. You're a very powerful figure, and have many enemies. I know it must be hard to find new guards. This saves you precious time from interviewing potential assassins. Also, I have caused minimal damage to your mansion. While blowing a hole through the roof and holding a blaster to your head is flashy, it's also very costly. There's always the chance that your employer will take the cost of damages out of your bill. This way, my fee isn't diminished, you don't have to replace your guards, and you don't have to spend money on repairs. I believe, my lord, that you'll find that my entrance, while not as flashy, is much more subtle and careful, something I believe you can appreciate. I take my job very seriously, and don't go in for the flash that other bounty hunters do. That's how you end up dead."

Saret watched the Hutt lord. He had hoped not to insult the gangster. It was true that Deuce was good, but even he couldn't take on an entire private army and win.

"So about this job you want done... Who's the target? If you know my name, you know that I only take the tough assignments. Any bounty hunter can bring in a convicted Weequay. This one is obviously a tough assignment, or you wouldn't have contacted me. So who's the mark?"

TAG: GM

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IC: Ziantor

Ziantor stepped forward to eject the memory disk from the back of the droid's head. Fingering the disk, he slowly walked back towards his ship, Horned Fury. The modified Predator-class fighter took off from Shola's ashy surface and soared into the atmosphere. A short trip through hyperspace brought him back to Corellia. Landing on the surface, Ziantor made his way towards his apartments in Coronet City. Ziantor's master insisted that he keep multiple residences, as a precaution, in case he was ever discovered. The apartment on Corellia had the most up-to-date technology for reading and encrypting data. Ziantor slipped the memory disk into the reader. It quickly scanned the disk, and the coordinates popped up onto the screen. Ziantor copied the coordinates, then drafted a letter to Kyluh Donn, a Jedi Master. The letter relayed information of the Derringer Enlightened fleet conducting war game exercises at this location. It would be an easy task for the Kiel Revolt to smash the group, as they would wargaming with low-powered weapons.

Ziantor sealed the message and encrypted it. Going down the block to the nearest Holonet terminal, he sent the message. It would bounce off five different relays before being sent to the Jedi, and if they investigated the source, they would find that it had been sent from Adumar. Ziantor's Master was clever. The Jedi had no idea that they were being played.

TAG: GM

 

IC: Freeman Bors
Balmorra

This time it was the snap-hiss of my lightsaber deactivating that brought me back to reality. Several Collicoids lay dead on the ground around me. Burned by their own blasters. Self-destruction whilst attempting to gain some petty monetary reward or to enforce a phobicratic rule over a swath of dying wasteland. Truly an effective analogy for the sentient condition. Those who fight against the self-destructive current, those who would protect others from their own blind greed. We are constantly consumed.

How to persevere? Joining the self-destructive masses results in death. Opposing them, controlling them, defending them, all result in death at their hands. Society, the means by which a plurality of beings maintain the structure that allows their wealth to hold meaning, is created whenever multiple beings come together. Society breeds self-destruction. Solitude preserves the being but prevents the continuity of the species.

What of a sentient who abandons all while the Galaxy consumes itself? When he is the last man, what has his asceticism won him? He ends up nothing like all his dead peers, just later. Are the last decades spent in somber solitude or gloating at your wisdom while observing the morbid vistas of the empty Galaxy worth the cost of knowing that your survival is fleeting and hollow?

In one of few decisions made relatively easily these days, it occurs to me that there is only one acceptable solution. One answer to all the riddles. One course of action. The one which has been drilled into my brain since the beginning: The Jedi Way. Joining the self-destruction and running from it will accomplish nothing. I must struggle against the current. The river of life in the Galaxy is rushing towards a billion billion-kilometer cascade, and I must save as many as possible. If I can build a dam which saves even one drop from oblivion, I can rejoin the Force in peace.

I was now sitting in the cockpit of There Is No Chaos. My fingers danced over the instruments, allowing the Force to guide me to my next deed, to the first brick in my dam...

Tag: Nick

 

OOC: Sorry for the OOC but I had too ask, Are we still playing this?

 

GM OOC: Doubtless. I apologize for the wait. I'll try to have the update up by tommorow.

 

IC: Feru Dorn
Coruscant

Feru watched the cat lunge toward him, as he rolled out of the way, blocking blaster fire. He stood and ran toward the door being blocked by the feline menace. His only chance was the window, but was it worth it. Feru knew he could take the men, but not the cat.

?Not today, you won?t? Feru said to the feline.

Feru ran towards the window, jumping into the soon to be shattered glass. As he broke through the glass he used a automatic pilot on his ship to find, and return to him. After minutes of falling a ship lowered under him. Feru slowly adjusted himself in a standing position, landing on his ship. He moved toward the hatch that was opening as he got closer. He slipped inside and closed the hatch. Feru took off auto-pilot and zoomed toward his hideout.

?I?m not done with you Sisal, on your way out of the planet, I?ll be there?, Feru told himself, ?You can count on it?.

Tag: Nick

 

OOC: Nick: 'Tomorrow' is today's yesterday.

 

GM OOC: So it is, Endor, so it is. It?s no matter, here is one overdue update. Ziantor: About the character of the same name, I shall send a PM. I hadn?t realized you would take it so far. I can't imagine I could have missed anyone, but if I have, shoot me a PM.

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Of [color=chocolate][b]Kal[/b][/color] on [i]Axxila[/i]

[b]Kal[/b]?s body was covered in small cuts. None of them were deep, but all would leave scars. He hosted a broken arm, along with a torn tentacle. His deepest injury was under the surface. Medical treatment would not heal his last wound, only self-medication. He would have to overcome the trauma.

The readings would show the physical exhaustion of the boy. He was still breathing hard, yet it was slowing. It showed his endurance and ability to overcome pain. Kal burst awake, as he lay on the medical table. His eyes were frantic, searching for some invisible demon.

[b]Tag - M_M[/b]
[color=purple][b]---[/b][/color]

Of [color=chocolate][b]Dia Lynn[/b] and [b]Wesley Hunt[/b][/color] on [i]Skylight Station near Alsakan[/i]

[b]Dia[/b] glanced over at [b]Wesley[/b]. He shook his head and she stepped forward. She touched the desk that [b]Elzar Suars[/b] was sitting behind. Her fingers traced a circle and she leaned farther forward.

[color=chocolate][i]?For now, 200 creds each, will do. It have no doubt leave not a scratch on your stash, and that is good. We would hate to run you dry on the first day.?[/i][/color]

Wesley tapped his finger on the side of his gun. He was itching to use it, but the thought of that credit chip held him back. He wanted to milk this outlet for as long as possible, before taking it down.

[b]Tag - Apadamek[/b]
[color=purple][b]---[/b][/color]

Of [color=chocolate][b]Robyn Thulls[/b][/color] on [i]Corbos[/i]

[b]Robyn[/b] commanded the droid in her own language.

[color=chocolate][i]?Ithorian Mist, quickly.?[/i][/color]

She looked at the [b]Naer[/b] quizzically, while the damaged droid bustled around. Once their order ha been fulfilled, Robyn held her arm out. Her neck twitched again. Robyn took a sip of her drink and shuddered as it went down. She sputtered, a bit. Robyn had never been all too fond of her home?s whiskey. She coughed and continued in Rodian.

[color=chocolate][i]?I think we both know why you are here, so I assume that means you know that many others have tried and failed to tap into the supply of ores on this planet. What makes you think you can do any better??[/i][/color]

Robyn managed to maintain the cool look most criminals sported. It would appear a fluke, though. Robyn was new to such shady business.

[b]Tag - Endor[/b]
[color=purple][b]---[/b][/color]

Of [color=blue][b]Kyluh Donn[/b][/color] on [i]Ossus[/i]

[b]Kyluh[/b] looked thoughtful. He nodded slowly. He understood [b]Trasii[/b]'s homesickness. Kyluh often missed his own homeworld of Ryloth. Despite half of the planet being near endless desert, the temperate half, that was Vong-formed, held his heart.

[color=blue][i]?It is natural to miss something so familiar, but such feelings are breeding grounds for the Dark Side. You must be able to avoid the thought and succeed in any environment. It is how any Jedi survives. It is the nature of our duty, to be faced with difficult situations.?[/i][/color]

Kyluh looked at Trasii, her eyes betrayed a deeper sadness, than one formed from reminiscence of a planet. She felt more than she let on. But, it was her own hill to overcome. His touch would only make her shy away.

[color=blue][i]?I called you to the gardens, to talk about finding you another Master. It is hard to move past a loss, but you must, if you want to continue to grow. We lost many healers when the virus surfaced and are short of such Jedi. One of the few that can help you, is a Mere, Dom Agar.

Master Agar is one of the most skilled healers we have seen, before and after the sickness. You will find him on Metellos. His abode will be difficu

 

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

 

OOC: I understand completely; Darth RL is powerful in the dark side.

---

Of [color=darkred][b]Naer the Shy[/b][/color] on [i]Corbos[/i]

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.

[color=darkred]"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."[/color]

He proceeded to clasp his hands, place his elbows on the table, arms vertical, and look straight-faced at the Ithorian.

[color=darkred]"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-"[/color] 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, [color=darkred]"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."[/color]

Not waiting for a reply, he stood up and slid a business card over to Robyn, saying, [color=darkred]"If you accept, contact me at this number. I'm staying in-system for a few days, but be quick, please..."[/color]

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.

* * *

[i]300 Astalair Hotel, Room 312[/i]

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.

[color=darkred]"If,"[/color] he began to read aloud, [color=darkred]"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."[/color] 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 a

 

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

 

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