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Star Wars Star Wars: After the Awakening

Discussion in 'Role Playing Forum' started by Sinrebirth, Jan 9, 2016.

  1. Darth_wanderguard

    Darth_wanderguard Game Host star 6 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Apr 26, 2005
    IC: Kodo Prine (combo post with Sinre)

    The argument was over - Jan and Kyle sulked off. Or, well, Kyle sulked off, presumably exhausted by the ups and downs of his relatively short time with Kodo Prine. Jan didn't sulk off so much as haughtily flounce. Callista opened a comm to Kodo. "Vincent is preoccupied. I gather something happened while he was under. Involving the Sith."

    "Not news to me," Kodo answered. "I was there. Something to do with some ancestor of his. She blew a hole straight through Snoke. Probably the only reason we're all alive."

    He turned to Juno and gave her a slight side-eye. "I feel bad for Kyle being dragged into whatever this is. It's clearly over his head. It's over my head, too, but it's at least my own burden."

    He resisted the urge to start venting his life story to someone he barely knew. "Where are we going?"

    'Not decided yet. Down to Galen and Quinlan. I reckon we'll join the Snoke Hit Squad. Leia Solo and her husband are about.'

    She grinned. She was in her sixties, but her hair was still blond and she had probably dyed it. She held out a hand. 'Captain Juno Marek.'

    Callista heard over the comlink. 'There is nobody aboard by that name.'

    Juno reached over. 'That's nice, dear.'

    She cut the channel. Simultaneous to that, the turbolift opened and deposited two men, one an aged Kiffar, if his facial tattoos were any indication. The other was too enmeshed in Juno's lips, having kissed her and collected her off the floor with a relieved grin to his face.

    The Kiffar pouted. 'Another stray?'

    Juno nodded. 'Quinlan Vos, Galen Marek, may I introduce Kodo Prine, former Padawan of the New Jedi Order and, if my read on his face is right, which it usually is, he recently told Snoke the Sith to stick it.' Juno shrugged. 'I gather Kyle didn't like his style.'

    Quinlan appraised him, but did not reply to Kodo. 'Master Tholme is dead.'

    Galen looked briefly surprised but Juno scowled. 'How did you know?'

    'That, too, is all over your face. You overheard the 'Snoke Hit Squad' as the one called Wyn described it.' Quinlan didn't let her reply, a mysticism seemingly transposed over him. 'We are only on a mission to recover our comrade, who has now been killed.'

    'We are either going to leave this wretched system, or we are going to join the hunt for Snoke. If I take instructions, I have no doubt that the Grandmaster will direct that we return... To elsewhere.' It was bad enough that they had exposed their secret, but to then tell a newcomer everything would be even more dangerous.

    They had been walking while they spoke, back to the hanger. Kyle and the Moldy Crow had left, leaving a black hulled courier. The Rogue Shadow. 'I would take your counsel. Is Snoke going to be stopped, without our help?'

    Galen scowled, Juno jabbed her elbow into his ribs. Quinlan held up a hand. 'Juno has offered you her word, I shall honour it. But before we depart, I would ask you this.'

    "My counsel will be of little help," Kodo replied to Quinlan, "I can tell you that Snoke - Plagueis - was being accosted by more than just Mikaru and myself in the shadow world. And I'm inclined to say I wouldn't be standing here if he hadn't been stretched a bit thin. But," he sighed, "I'm not inclined to trust that he can be defeated without the use of every possible resource."

    "And I'm still a Jedi," he noted quietly at the end, as if to remind himself as much as anyone.

    Quinlan Vos stared at him. 'I see.'

    'I, too, am a Jedi, but not of your Order... Such that it is. Galen is a Jedi too, though he came to the light from the teachings of the Sith as Vader's apprentice.'

    'You are a Padawan, but have gone through more trials than many Knights, I suspect.' Quinlan Vos paused.

    'Are we going?' Galen said, with a smile. It seemed that Juno was enough to light even his moody disposition.

    Quinlan nodded. 'We shall join this Snoke Hit Squad, but not directly. We know little of them, and a group which includes Leia and Fett is a taut one at best.'

    Juno nodded and broke her handgrip with Galen to prepare the ship. Quinlan looked at Kodo again. 'You are dislocated from events, I know this. But I shall help you find your centre again, if you so wish.'

    "Guidance would be welcome," Kodo nodded, keeping his voice low. "I was a disappointment to Kyle, I should warn you, due to my susceptibility to Plagueis. His claws were set deeply, and he has repeatedly manipulated me to do his bidding despite my best efforts otherwise."

    "I fear," he continued, "that he has accounted for more than we may know. Even now we may be fulfilling his plans."

    Quinlan paused. 'Come aboard. I learned something from the Theran Listeners which may help with that.'

    'Then we can talk more.'

    Kodo followed Quinlan onto the ship, his interest a little more than piqued. To feel as though he had control of his own mind and his own will would be a welcome change. Every action he had taken from the moment he cast away the holocron had been an attempt to break Snoke's lasting influence, but it seemed that whatever path he took, Snoke was there waiting with a plan. Always one step ahead.

    "Theran Listeners?" he asked aloud once the pair was in private.

    'I spent some years there during the Dark Times,' he said, as he walked them up the ramp into the corridor, far from the cockpit. 'They mastered the ability to remove harmful memories from someone.'

    Quinlan kept the sentence simple, and light. 'For now, buckle in.'

    Vos resolved to say nothing else until they were safely off this ship. He wanted to see and feel how Kodo would react to the idea of his memories being fundamentally altered. But he did head to the cockpit to the seats behind the pilot and co-pilot.

    Kodo strapped in and remained quiet, but was inwardly averse to the notion. It was the loss of his memories which made him vulnerable - that he was a blank slate onto which Snoke could paint a past of his choosing.

    He settled into the seat as comfortably as he could, and quiet contemplation overtook him. It seemed there was little he could do but let go of his past - to accept the lack of answers and put little stock in what memories did return, for his own well being.

    TAG: Sinrebirth
     
  2. Ktala

    Ktala Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2002
    Belila Gambros (Bre)
    Someplace, Noplace

    Silence.

    A bubble of light within a world of blured sounds and hazy edges of darkness. Except for a wall that curled around her. Her own tower.

    Sancutary.

    No crazy Sith Lords from centuries past trying to come back again. No current Sith Lord trying to take her apart like some strange scientific experiment. No strange ladies suddenly appearing out of no where, talking about a time period Bre knew little about. Bre let out a soft sob. The urge was so strong to simply curl up, and push away everything....

    Then she thought of big blue. The Jedi she had found. Elias Noble. She thought that perhaps after so many years of wandering around, she had found someone who, like her would understand. But something happened. What did happened to him? It was as if he had suddenly turned himself off. Disconnected from everyone and everything suddenly with no warning.

    Kind of like the way she felt right now.

    No, this was different, Bre tried to reason with herself. She HURT. And she should. She went up against a very evil being. Close enough to touch him. That thought alone was enough to make her suddenly feel very cold, and shudder. She delt with Force Lighting. Death. Here was safe. Here was light and warmth. Nothing could reach her here. The outside world didnt exist here.

    But she was utterly alone.

    Not even Fred could reach her here. No friends. No companions. No, this was not an answer. She had already spent so many years being alone. And that was before she found Fred. So much betrayal, and secrets. No family. No belonging. But it was dangerous to
    be alone now. She no longer could afford that option. Not that Snoke now knew of her, stating that he would have her. So right now, it was better to be with others, than staying alone.

    Bre forced herself to uncurl, as she lay on her back now, looking up at the soft warm light. She held up a hand, looking at the light play against her fingers. She chose the Force. And it her. She had been tired of wandering around. Of simply surviving.

    She wanted a chance to belong. To do some good in the galaxy before she died. She just didnt expect to be shoved front and center of things!! To experience so much death yet again. Her eyes watered, as she balled her hand into a fist.

    What about the others? Would Leia want her around, now that she knew her secret of being a shape shifter? Bre knew some beings looked at the various species that could shift as being less than 'honest'. Thieves, spies and cutthroats. Would they let her stay? Praxton already didnt like her. When he found out she was a Jedi, even more so.

    Bre pulled her hand back to her chest. Bre started to cry more now. Afraid of the unknown. Scared, like in the beginning. If not welcomed, she would do as she had been doing before she met them all. Survive. Adapt. It would be painful. But whoever said
    the Jedi path was easy?

    Jedi. Was she still considered a Jedi? She had been alone for so long. Any training she learned on her own. She missed what she used to do, but she could not afford to practice it. But whenever she came across usable gemstones, she would save them.

    Obviously some other Jedi had survived. Would they even welcome her again, after such a long absence? Would she even want to? So much unknown. But hiding would give her no answers. The pain would still exist, that much she knew. She couldnt just hide
    forever. And no matter how much pain and suffering, she didnt want to end up like Elias. She would have to drawn on the Force, without becoming lost within it. As tempting and soothing as it was to draw away from all her problems and pain, it was a lie. Some lies, she could live with.

    But not that one.

    She needed to face whatever was to come next. Bre slowly stood up. She gently reached out, and touched her 'tower' feeling its warmth and comfort. Slowly, she stopped crying. She pushed at the doorway, looking out.

    She gasped, as pain grabbed her. The instinct was to draw back inside, but she stopped herself. No. She had to do this. She looked out. It was dark, storm clouds seemed to roll about. Thoughts became fuzzy again, as voices seemed to get louder

    ...step.

    ...another step.

    ...more pain. Head throbbed. Her body felt like it was in cased in durasteel. She forced herself to not turn and look back behind her. She kept taking steps, slowly and surely into the dark void she could not see past. Dark angry voices, echoed around her. Each step more painful than the last. And just when she did not think she could take another step.

    ...she was out.


    -0-

    Yavin


    Fred had stayed next to Bre, beeping softly as he watched over her. The others were busy handling the Falcon, trying to make sure it didnt fall apart before they reached a safe area. Fred was trying to process all he had just seen and witnessed, while he watched over his mistress. Her breathing had gotten so slow, that he was worried for a bit, beeping softly, trying to get her to respond. When she started to leak water from her eyes, he really became worried, worrying if it was the equivalent of some sort of coolant leak. Fred beeped gently as he reached out with a prob, trying to see if he could get her attention. Then he just sat quietly by, snuggled up close. He had never seen her like this before, and was totally out of his league of what to do. She still had basic vitals, so he didnt bother anyone, just kept a very quiet vigil over her, just in case the ship had to do any more crazy maneuvers.

    Suddenly a very soft groan caught Fred's attention, and a small gasp that came after that. As he leaned over, Bre opened one eye. And if she had not been in so much pain, and exhausted, she would have chuckled at the sight of Fred hovering inches from her
    face. Speech was exhausting. "Iss ok." she managed to say, as she offered Fred the briefest of smiles. The body was feeling heavy again. "Goan sleep now." Bre told him, as she held up a finger, to which Fred gently latched on to. She nodded once before
    closing her eyes, and falling to sleep.


    TAG: Whoever
     
  3. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Immortal Mod-King of the EUC, RPF and SWC star 8 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    Chapter Twenty One

    Grand Moff Siralt was a man on a schedule. While it had been beneficial for him personally that Flennic was dead, for he had been elevated in his place, it had put him at odds with Moff Quille, who had sought the position himself. Siralt he sought to mollify the man, and successfully at that, by speaking to Supreme Leader Snoke about Quille being also risen to the rank over the newly occupied territories, in correspondence he had ensured Quille had access to.

    Quille was the ostensible leader of their clique, now that Pellaeon and Sarreti had retired and the Head of State was strictly speaking Snoke - not that he was a very hands on ruler, preferring to bequeath practical power upon the Moffs within former Remnant space. He was, however, prone to handing out responsibility and projects like sour candy.

    That project was the restoration of the twelve kilometres of glory that was the Megador. The Mandator-class looked, in essence, like a pocket Executor-class, but here the definition of pocket was a little trite what with the size of the Megador, but being as an Executor-class was nineteen kilometres of majesty, pocket was apt.

    Regardless, the ship had been bruised by the efforts of four bounty hunters to escape the shipyards of Yaga Minor after assassinating Flennic. Kylo Ren had been somewhere along the lines of livid that they had escaped, but being as Flennic and General Berrida were both responsible for the security arranged and were both dead there was not much which could be done to their corpses.

    And by bruised, Siralt meant just that; its hull was blackened, and scorched, by the trail of mines that one of the hunters had left. The hull had not been ruptured, but it needed to be repainted and checked, because even a minor weakness could be exploited.

    Initially the Supreme Leader had given him a week to deal with the refit but almost immediately thereafter he had been in touch again and changed the deadline to that of less than twenty four standard hours. Every single other project had to be put on hold to achieve, in a short lived but incredible burst of activity. The several hundred thousand crewers for the ship were being shuttled aboard as the engineers checked and rechecked the nose of the ship for damage, while droids painted behind them. It was painstaking work and it was being done fast

    How in the Nine Corellian Hells could a schedule lose six days?

    ---
    Battle of Yavin

    Snoke grimaced as he fell, arms stretched out and his cloak along with it, a proverbial crow with tattered wings in the breeze.

    He had at least wanted to kill a few more of them before he left, but perhaps the one they had called Strang would be sufficient. Snoke refocused; he was falling to his death.

    But of course, he wasn't. His trusty droid pilot brought the shuttle out of cloak and pulled it close by. Snoke nudged at an air current and came aboard, rolling, and found himself breathing heavily, laying on the floor of his ship.

    'Magister?' His droid sounded it's equivalent of concerned, but it was for his health.

    Snoke waved a hand, directing him to focus on flying. The console clicked, and the droid re-acquired control and took them under the cloak. Ignoring the TIEs coming to their aid, and the heroes frantically docking with the Etti-class light cruiser that had appeared, the shuttle pulled into high orbit and kept the cloak up long enough to orient for a hyperspace jump.

    Snoke closed his eyes, and let himself dream.

    He needed some R&R.

    Soon.

    Act Two, now, was underway.

    --

    Events had taken their course. Fett understood from Goran that Susular had taken a hit somewhere, and of course Atropos had vanished, but with what Fett was watching, he thought it might be worthwhile for them to turnaround and have a go at Snoke one more time.

    For while there were several hundred TIEs in orbit, two of the four Star Destroyers seemed to have taken it upon themselves to ram each other. Even though the commander of the second Destroyer was moving to avoid the impact, it couldn't avoid it - mile long ships simply couldn't. They hit, and then, in a detonation of over seventy thousand beings, they were gone; the second Destroyer had angled up and away, on the basis that the first would logically have down down, however it didn't, and the prow of the ramming warship impacted the reactor in short order; thus the flash.

    The explosion had the effect of sending a minor shockwave in the immediate vicinity of the Destroyers, buffeting the third and scattering the TIE Fighters of the fourth, which were in pursuit of them. It was still too close.

    Slave I didn't know anything about the MSS fleet - the six Vindicators and other frigates and corvettes surrounding the Battlecruiser that Niathal had command of, but Fett was distrusting of organisations and it was supposed to be a hunter mission. He could hardly collect a fee with fleets involved. He could however acknowledge that he needed the help of the Snoke Hit Squad.

    He had reacquired the trace chemical trail that worked for the shuttle craft that Snoke used - he didn't have access to his sensor suite beforehand, but it appeared connected to the Cronau radiation that occurred around hyperspace. He had coordinates for Snoke.

    And so he sent the coordinates that he had to Argen's ship, and he came aboard, narrowly avoiding the other collected ships. 'This is Boba Fett. Hyperspace coordinates plotted. Follow them. I'll explain them later. Don't share them.' He didn't need to add a threatening tone; he always had it.

    He absently realised Wyn had drawn in the Etti-class to the channel they shared with the Falcon and the others, all of which had extracted successfully, if the beat-up tramp freighter settling on the top hatch was any indication. Fett glanced at the sensors as they beeped one more time, even as his mind grasped that Wyn had cut the MSS ship's out of the feed out of annoyance at Niathal.

    More ships.

    Vincent Mikaru's fleet could have stood beaten two Star Destroyers, but this...

    They were on their own.

    Fett shrugged. He'd tell the others where they were going when asked. Argen would know where they were going when his naviconputer caught up.

    Esfandia, in the Unknown Regions. A straight line jump into the depths.

    ---
    Outside

    Grand Admiral Dorja had arrived at last. After a diversion reorganising his forces - in-case the Sixth Fleet struck elsewhere or pursued him - he had arrived with twelve ship's of the same class as the Resurgent-class Star Destroyer Bellicose that had started off the battle, hours ago now.

    The fleet arrived in time to see two Destroyers exploding, and Dorja obtained a lay of the land swiftly. Snoke was not immediately apparent; those were Antemeridian warships. With a scowl, Dorja simply pointed at the Battlecruiser and its escorts, including a frigate and an Etti-class light cruiser.

    'Acquire targets, accelerate into range, and destroy them all.'

    The entire bridge crew of the battlecruiser gasped in unison at the fleet which had arrived; Niathal began issuing recall orders for any fighters launched, but also conscious that she may be required to abandon some to save the fleet.

    Callista glanced at Vincent, insofar as much as Aden clenched his teeth as he disentangled from the broader battle and the echoes of the dying reverberated throughout him. It must have been long minutes in which they had they had melded; he had lost track of both time and Vos and Marek. No matter, Aden thought darkly. Vincent was the true prize, and he would support the man in his quest to embrace his dark side heritage.

    And maybe Aden would make a gift of Vincent to his master.

    Either way, Aden was genuinely interested in where the man would jump. The Jensaarai had his own projects he would love to pursue while he was in the field... Maybe he could merge the two into one...

    ... Assuming they survived the Battle of Yavin 4.

    ---
    Aboard the Rogue Shadow, cloaked

    Juno Marek had patched herself into the feed involving Leia, Han, Susular, Boba Fett and the others, by virtue of the connection she had made with Rhoen's fighter in the past, encryption which she had saved, and she simply nodded to herself. 'We have coordinates.'

    They jumped after Snoke One, anticipating that the others would follow shortly.

    Quinlan Vos seemed to have come to a decision, and unclipped his seat and walked back, glancing at Kodo to follow.

    Galen grunted, and Juno glanced over. 'The Master wants to get to know our passenger more.' He didn't take into account whether Kodo had followed or not before he spoke.

    Juno simply smiled at her husband. He was a perpetually moody man, but it was amusing, to her. She was like a light breeze in the room, and even though she had seen as much as anyone, she simply didn't take it on board. She kept Galen from being so jaded to be cynical, but when they were separated, it was a different thing.

    Quinlan Vos was settling down, crossed legs. He had removed his gloves, and spoke to himself, and to no-one, and to Kodo. 'I am a psychometric. It is a skill of a Kiffar, and as a Force user it is particularly potent. I can read objects. With sufficient push, I can read people, though I can be lost inside someone if I am not too careful.' He absently reflected on the times it had also given him a bridge to that person, one of love. And that had came with corresponding pain.

    Quinlan held out his hand to Kodo. 'This is war. It is a given that many of the connections we will form are rushed, and sometimes misplaced. I do not believe I have misplaced them in you, but you believe you have misplaced them in others.' A fact was stated, not a question asked. 'I would shell you of that jaded view, and explain what has happened to you.'

    'If you would allow me. It is time for Kodo Prine to rest, and rebuild. Vincent Mikaru will run to find himself.'

    Quinlan paused. 'Snoke will probably not let you.'

    'And so you need to decide what memories are yours, and what are not.' Quinlan was speaking of what he had alluded to earlier; removing bad memories, not knowing that his comments were quite prescient, what with Snoke having soundly manipulated Kido into cutting up Azgath N'Dul earlier today.

    --
    Aboard the Rosa, mid-system

    Twelve more larger Star Destroyers was the problem which was of a terminal sort, and put the final stamp on the Battle of Yavin as a victory for the First Order.

    The Resistance had, however, lost an MC90 cruiser and a frigate and destroyed three Star Destroyers and hundreds of fighters, as well as one Dark Lord of the Sith. So they had won far more than they had lost.

    However, the Resistance did not have an armada, and the First Order had at least three; the Remnant's fleets, the Centrist forces, and finally the assets the First Order had collated in the Unknown Regions.

    Gone were the days of tens of thousands of Star Destroyers. A single star cruiser lost was an incredible blow.

    Of course, however, this was not an issue for the crew and passengers of the Rosa. Their issue was simply recovering, while Argen (and Damask) saved them.

    All eyes would be drawn to a Star Courier in the hangar bay before they arrived; sleek, and gorgeously so. It was the Scimitar, but none of them would know that, and none of them would know it's prestigious past as the personal ship of Darth Plagueis, Darth Sidious, and Darth Maul.

    As it was, however, the hatch above allowed the Falcon to deposit the crew on the gantry above, looking down on their team, and Susular had rappelled beneath this.

    Kyp made it aboard with a spin, resetting his X-wing to face outwards for an easy take-off. He had no astromech, and his afternoon was fixated on the Star Courier with the strange miasma to it.

    Lysa all but stumbled out of her ship, thankful that the Eta-5 was low on the floor and didn't require a ladder. She was exhausted, and stumbled to her knees, sweat mopping her brow and all too many uncomfortable places. She sagged to the floor and looked for Rhoen. And a shower.

    But now they simply had to rest, assuming Argen escaped on time. Otherwise, it would be another battle, and another long, long day. Damask has busied the other droids aside and promptly confirmed when everyone was in and the coordinates from Fett were sound.

    TAG: Kahn_Iceay (first, as Argen), Darth_wanderguard, HanSolo29, galactic-vagabond422, Ktala, @Mitth-Fisto
    ---
    IC: Darth Librium
    Nowhere

    The 'Hera' aboard simply nodded and moved them along. A Jedi took seniority, and Lothal, all the way in the Rim by Mon Cala, was not the best place to stick it to the First Order; it was on the fringes of the Imperial net around the Calamari Sector.

    Darth Librium smiled candidly. 'I am an impossibility, and an improbability. There are dark places in the galaxy that can be considered lens into the future... Or future.'

    The Dark Jedi Master gestured in the vague direction of K'Kruhk's former Padawan. 'But it does not mean I cannot impact this realm. Your friend needs more medical attention than these fools can give.'

    'Perhaps more than you can.'

    'I'll tell you more if you try and save her.'

    She had an internal wound; bacta epoxy had done what it could; it had simply gummed up the battle her organs were fighting; a sloppy epoxy, it seemed. The Holocron rippled with bemusement. Purposely made sloppy, perhaps?

    TAG: BobaMatt
    ---
    IC: Captain Phasma
    Battle of Ord Mantell

    Phasma turned her implacable gaze to the two of them. Only two Stormtroopers had managed to pick their way through the carnage and kept up. Captain Phasma looked from Private Boutros and to Rankless Hidax. Her voice betrayed no inflection. 'You are late.' Captain Phasma looked back to the battleground, beneath cover. 'The Mandalorians had just drove us back, and your little trick appears to have caused them to withdraw...' Phasma's tone definitely became more brusque. 'And that has ruined my plan. The intent was to draw them clear and then counter-attack. Now they have simply withdrawn and will reconsolidate.' She glanced back at the other two troopers. 'I note they have brought explosives. I presume you have a plan, now you have undercut mine, Hidax.'

    She ignored the Private briefly.

    With a grunt, the chromium plated woman hefted her oversized gun, and fired it at a Mandalorian that had peeked over his cover. Her shot took him through the visor of his helmet. 'Private, Hidax, you are in front. I shall cover you.'

    The plaza was littered with dead bodies but the enemy was pinned down. Phasma had no intention of gunning them down from behind. They had a mission. Such an act would have been dishonourable, as it was.

    There were enemy gunners poised to fire join any who advanced into the plaza and Phasma fired back at them, driving them under cover. One of the two troopers passed his explosives to the other and poured automatic fire at the entrance. The Mandalorians were effectively pinned down.

    For now.

    TAG: Darth_wanderguard, @Halle-Dray
    ---
    IC: YVH-1-1
    Chandrila

    Sith cults were the objective of a battle droids research today. The Maulites, the Sons of Vader, the Disciples of Ragnos. Sith cultists were not true Sith for the purposes of the Rule of Two, YVH-1-1 gathered, but a Sith was a Sith in a legitimate sense as long as they acquired enough knowledge and power.

    It was the de facto and de jure element that YVH-1-1 pondered today; he had been optimising his strategies against Force users, having found various parallels in his programming between Yuuzhan Vong Warriors and Jedi Knights, and he felt the droid equivalent of a pang of annoyance that he had never engaged the crossover between the two; the Yuuzhan Vong Slayers. That data would have been very useful in devising counter stratagems for a Sith cultist.

    Legitimacy was not a matter of fact for Sith. Acquiring the trappings of a Sith did not make one a Sith, insofar as much as one could 'misuse' their teachings to acquire Order rather than Power, which was again an interesting parallel between the Imperial Warlords, who often acquired the trappings of Empire but sought Power over Order, thus invalidating them as Imperials but when one had a Super Star Destroyer to back up ones claims, nobody dared attack your credentials unless backed up by a small armada. However, there were types of legitimacy that drew upon older sources of Sith and as such their legitimacy could be argued to override that of the traditional Rule of Two, broken at the battle of Endor three decades ago, save for a brief continuation by the Dark Lady Lumiya, believed to have been finally killed by Mara Jade Skywalker.

    YVH-1-1 reprocessed; he had gone on a tangent, but it had been necessary to distinguish between the threat level of a Sith cultist over a Sith Lord, though there had not been an active Sith Lord for twenty eight years - since the fall of the Reborn Emperor - but the possibility of a Lord emerging from a Cultist was ever present - could a Sith claim the mantle of Dark Lord from scraps of knowledge? Another veer from the analysis of threats, a perennial glitch; was YVH-1-1's thought processes being impacted by the study of Sith knowledge? He degaussed, slowly, keeping as many of his weapons available as possible while he analysed himself instead.

    There it was; malicious code within the data that Drayson had supplied him, which was strange as the man had scrubbed the data to a databyte of its life. The corruption shifted, and YVH-1-1 suddenly ascribed to it the nature of an AI, absently reflecting that one of the rumoured Sith techniques that he had read about included that of suffusing technology with a Sith persona, but YVH-1-1 deleted it with precision.

    The battle droid, briefly, clicked over events, and then he clicked over it again. A repeat cycle of analysis had fallen over his faculties, for no apparent reason or following no external stimuli. He could not account for it in his processing core, in a mechanical matter in which he could translate it, and so he summoned up the vernacular that Lando Calrissian had supplied to him.

    Oh yes, there it was.

    I have a bad feeling about this.

    ---
    Back in Hutt Space

    Kate work be back within the hour - it turned out the astromech had preordered the fuel and had met it halfway - and as such everything was a rush.

    The droideka Dee had, somewhat clumsily, loaded the E-9 and was already preparing itself for a journey. A droideka was not the most sturdy traveller, but Dee was loath to roll around where possible. It was now a slightly dizzying experience, as Dee tended to stay upright.

    The ship was prepped to go, and the ysalamiri were aboard, and the ship was poised to go. But as Kate returned she had a slightly mournful tone to her. The fuel and the small conveyance was there, but so too were some unwelcome additions. One was the restraining bolt which was attached to her, and the other was the cloaked man who was sitting beside their fuel.

    He kept his hood up as he arrived, but a tail showed beneath the hem of his cloak. He held the Owner up, peacefully, as the doors to the hangar opened and Dee levelled its weapons at the man... Who ensured he had Kate in front of him.

    'I require passage to the Chandrila system, and I apologise for the abrupt way in which I have attempted to join your crew.' The voice had a singsong quality to it, but it was grave.

    Worried, even.

    But the man had not flinched when he crossed into the bubble that the ysalamiri projected, and as such it was apparent that he was not a Force user.

    He did not, however, release Kate.

    'You can space me on the way if it really matters to you, when you've heard me out, or we can waste time talking now.'

    TAG: @Lord-Trekie
    ---
    IC: Lon Shevu
    Coruscant

    The moment the building collapsed, Lekauf rushed into the fray. Hero, Lon reflected, a sour smile. His temporary partner wanted to do something spectacular; to make a difference. Lon wanted to do it right. Between the two of them, they were well paired. Girdun grabbed at Jenkins' arm and turned the other around to the sound of the child screams, and he promptly pointed at Lon to stay put; 'Call it in.' Then the man waved at the snipers and pointed at the building, moving them off too.

    Shevu had no doubt that Girdun would give the appearance of leading the rescue attempt to boost his calibre within the forces, while the others would do the hard work. Lon did feel the sense of urgency to help, but someone did have to call it in. Lory would be a greater help, what with the upper body strength of a Besalisk -

    - Shevu's mouth was to his comlink, not speaking, when he realised Lory wasn't going along too. He looked to the Bessie, as they affectionately called the species, and found the man had his daggers out; two, one in each hand; not regulation standard. The Besalisk reached into his shirt for some kind of grey pulp, and grinned, shouting out. 'Taozin nodule. Didn't you fink I'd be on to you?'

    Shevu frowned. Lory was like this; he'd get snapshots of intelligence that belied the lack of grace to his speech. At one point Lon had thought it was down to someone feeding him information in the underworld, but it seemed to be instinct and Lory had taken down his fair share of 'bad guys' in the criminal underworld -

    - so Shevu drew his pistol.

    For Stark, the absolute tone her Muun broker had taken came to mind. Do not kill any but the target. We have plans in mind for the others. They are essential to the forthcoming designs of Black Sun.

    Tag: Moonspun Dragon[/b]
    ---
    IC: Cappie
    Super Star Destroyer, Eclipse[/i], dead ship[/i]

    Ordinarily the astromech would have trilled triumphantly at events, but the ship was a death trap. Cappie would do its best to get a signal to Leia, but the ship's communications were as shot-up as the weapons and crew. The astromech sent off a signal to Yavin, and hoped for the best, while updating Jaina that the ship's weapons, engines, tractor beams, and so forth, were gone.

    Cappie couldn't get a fix on Ben's location; the ship's computer had kicked him out, but Cappie could get a fix on various points with power still running. A chamber within the depths of the Super Star Destroyer - the underside, above the reactor, so to speak - and a tram running up to the bridge from Ben Solo's last location. It suggested that this was where Ben was going.

    It promptly traced a route to the nearest team location. However, the next room had another four Stormtroopers in it, and they were as prepared as the last; all four had automatic rifles ready and primed and the moment they saw her they flooded where she stood with all of their fire.

    This was going to be street-fighting.

    Street-fighting in a ghost ship.

    And then someone drove a mental needle into her head; pressing for purchase; a rivulet of ice cold darkness seeking to find a way in.

    TAG: Lady Belligerent


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  4. Kahn_Iceay

    Kahn_Iceay Jedi Master star 5

    Registered:
    Mar 5, 2006
    IC: Argen
    Yavin

    When Argen heard the first call for medics he reached up and flipped a few switches. Like much of the ship, even the medical staff was automated. Though they usually stayed in standby mode. Moments later a series of cheerful, and somewhat more talkative than one might like in a droid, AZI-series Medical droids came filtering through the hangar’s main access door. Chirping along asking if people needed medical assistance and giving directions to the medical bay.

    Back on the bridge, Argen got the coordinates from Fett and sat on them for a moment. He’d come here to join the resistance, but Fett had said no to tell anyone. That obviously meant that the rest of the fleet wouldn’t be joining. At the same time the person he’d came to meet, General Organa, had just docked with his ship, more than that, this was Boba Fett.

    He’d dialed the coordinates in and was about to jump when the other fleet came in-system. He’d been expecting them, but he hadn’t been expecting that. His immediate reaction, jump, but the old Rebel in his heart told him that he’d be leaving the others as sitting ducks. Reaching over to the weapons console he flipped a series of switches and then pressed a firing toggle before veering to starboard and hitting the hyperdrive.

    As the Rosa elongated and snapped into hyperspace three blue trails veered out from where she had been towards the Imperial Fleet. Discord missiles. Able to push ten thousand G the missiles covered the distance in seconds before splitting open, only they didn’t release Buzz droids, as the CIS Discord missiles of the past had.

    Sensor jammers.

    Dozens of small sensor jammers now littered the area in front of the Imperial fleet, inertia continuing to carry them forward in dispersal. They wouldn’t full ship board sensors for long, but they might give the Resistance fleet just enough time to…

    IC: Vincent Mikaru
    Invective

    “Jump,” Vincent called out, his short lived victory, at the cost of his own humanity, overshadowed by the arrival of the enemy reinforcements. One or two star destroyers, they could take even a resurgence, but a dozen new ships and their support? Vincent looked to the Admiral, “We need to jump, and I know I said I’d stand by and let you command this but I’m sorry.”

    He turned to Callista, “Intra-Fleet Link. Transmit coordinates to not-linked Republic and resistance ships.” They needed a place to go however, if they jumped straight back to Eshan this fleet would be able to determine their end point and Eshan didn’t need another battle right now, even if it was one they’d win. Vincent was short on resources, most of his way stations were in the Outer Rim, beyond their reach for safety, but there was one.

    And he didn’t like having to reveal it but such were the times. “Transmit coordinates to Gehenna base. Advise all ships to prepare for entrance into an asteroid field upon reversion.” He looked back up at the Imperial Fleet, and the debris he’d just had a hand in, around him alarms went off, signifying that the Imperials were trying to get weapons locks. “All ships, Jump.”

    Then the stars were lines, and everything descended into a swirling mass of violet and blue.

    Tag: @Darth_wanderguard, @HanSolo29, @galactic-vagabond422, @Ktala, @Mitth-Fisto
     
  5. Moonspun Dragon

    Moonspun Dragon Jedi Grand Master star 5

    Registered:
    Apr 6, 2011
    IC- Izzy Stark a.k.a. The Ripper
    Coruscant

    Do not kill any but the target. We have plans in mind for the others. They are essential to the forthcoming designs of Black Sun.

    Hidden in the shadows of a nearby building, Stark sighed with irritation. Rules, rules, rules. They were kind of bumming her out. If it were up to her, bits and pieces of every single one of these people would become the new outside decor for these old buildings.

    She sighed again, wistfully. Oh, well, orders were orders.

    Stark raised her right fist and extended her index and middle fingers so they were pointing at Lory's daggers. She twitched them and the daggers were torn from the Besalisk's grip and flew at Shevu.

    One of the daggers sailed over the man's left shoulder, grazing his neck. The other dagger, aimed for the man's right thigh. The best part, it would have seemed as though Lory had thrown them.

    Stark crossed her arms over her stomach, then leaned casually against the building she was using as cover. For now, she was content on watching the action she had just caused.

    Tag: Sinrebirth
     
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  6. Halle Dray

    Halle Dray Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jan 6, 2016
    IC: Sava Boutros
    Battle of Ord Mantell

    Sava put a hand on her hip as Phasma rebuked them for their efforts. For Coruscant's sake, they had been sent to help her without any real orders. She should be glad they even listened and hadn't flown off to some other planet. Sava knew she would never do something like that but some gratitude would be nice. With her trick, they could now gather the Mandos into the plaza and bomb them all together. If of course, Phasma let them. Phasma was ignoring her now anyhow and was asking Hidax if he had a plan. Mentally rolling her eyes, Sava jerked her head at Phasma to let Hidax know that they should just follow her lead. Phasma then told them that she would cover them if they led the charge into the plaza. Sava nodded and they small group made their way to the plaza, Phasma shooting Mandos along the way. Once in the center of the plaza, Sava fired off a series of three shots. Mandos began to climb out of the trees and other hiding places at once.

    Sava yelled amidst the fire that had begun, "Keep your backs to each other. We'll be able to hold them away better."

    Firing her blaster pistol at the Mandos, she saw them going down, one by one. Suddenly, a bolt whizzed passed her head and she ducked. When she got up, a Mando who had sneaked up behind her grabbed her arms and twisted back. Yelling out in pain, she was now an open target. Sava used the pressure from the Mando pulling her arms and propelled herself up and flipped, kicking the Mando with her feet. Landing her flip, she shot her captor with one of her extra blasters and while shooting, she rolled onto the ground to retrieve her pistol. This would be a long fight if these Mandos kept on appearing...

    TAGS: Darth_wanderguard Sinrebirth
     
  7. Darth_wanderguard

    Darth_wanderguard Game Host star 6 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Apr 26, 2005
    IC: Bruturus Hidax

    Phasma. Hidax grimaced beneath his helmet. This stood a good chance of being less than pleasant.

    "You are late," she said flatly. "The Mandalorians had just drove us back, and your little trick appears to have caused them to withdraw."

    Her tone hardened. 'Here it comes,' Hidax thought.

    "And that has ruined my plan. The intent was to draw them clear and counterattack. Now they have simply withdrawn and will reconsolidate." She looked to the two troopers who had made it with them. "I note they have brought explosives. I presume you have a plan now you have undercut mine, Hidax."

    "Our intel was poor, Captain. But the fault is mine, regardless," he nodded. "In such a small group we can move very quickly - quickly enough to cut off the withdrawal with explosives if we-"

    "Keep your backs to each other, we'll be able to hold them away better!" Sava's voice interrupted him. In the few moments since he had been conversing with Phasma, she had darted off with the pair of remaining troopers and gotten into a skirmish. He was still for a moment, and considered leaving the overeager private to her own devices before his conscience got the better of him. That, and the fact of a dead squad doing nothing to earn him back his rank and reputation.

    "Kids," he muttered disdainfully and peeled off to help, as the group was slowly being overwhelmed by emerging Mandalorians. Sava was impressive, athletically dispatching several of them via her blasters and some acrobatic maneuvers. What she missed among all the fuss was the sniper targeting down on her from a short distance behind. Hidax closed the distance quickly and quietly enough, whipping the riot baton from his hip with a buzz. Torquing powerfully, he caned the sniper across the back of the skull unawares, leaving the man in a lifeless heap.

    "Private!" He barked, reverting to captain mode and forgetting for a moment that he was rankless. "Stick to the perimeter of the plaza. Move quickly, I'll be close behind. And stop trying to be a Han Solo," he ordered. Among the first order, the name of the now famous smuggler had of course become something of a cliche, synonymous with the antics of brash, gunslinging daredevils who thought themselves invincible. Such antics were of course rare among such a disciplined military culture as the First Order, but still frequent enough to be the target of widely known slang.

    TAG: Sinrebirth, Halle Dray

    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~

    IC: Kodo Prine

    Kodo unclipped and stood from his seat to follow Vos to somewhere more private. There they sat on the floor across from one another, cross-legged. Kodo breathed deep once and winced from a pain in his ribs he hadn't noticed before. No doubt he was riddled with bruises under his robes. He hadn't truly slowed down much since his rescue from Dagobah - there was the brief few hours before Eshan and a short time on the cruiser before all hell had broken loose, but each time there was no break in the sense of immediacy. To say nothing of the unexpected and traumatic outcome of both situations.

    Now for the first time he felt some sense of closure, of forwardness. Dagobah was behind him, as was the holocron. There was a growing sense of triumph in what had ultimately occurred in the shadow world - though what had led to it was still a source of shame. And the short-lived, bittersweet relief which had come from the momentary certainty that N'Dul had killed his companion on Dagobah was again replaced with the nagging, souring guilty feeling that he might have done it himself. He was certainly capable given his apparent proclivities.

    'Stop it,' he admonished himself. Guilt had become a faithful companion, but a cruel one whose only purpose was to make him vulnerable to Snoke.

    "I am a psychometric," Vos blessedly broke the silence which had begun to summon Kodo's demons. "It is a skill of a Kiffar, and as a force user it is particularly potent. I can read objects. With sufficient push, I can read people, though I can be lost inside someone if I am not too careful."

    A slight panic set Kodo's jaw to twitch at the thought of allowing such a thing. The sanctity of his mind, his thoughts, his memories, had been violated by Snoke countless times. What should have been his most private place was instead an unlocked door. And now Vos was turning the handle just as Snoke had done.

    He quenched his anxiety, reminding himself that Snoke was a different animal. He scarcely knew Vos, nor the Mareks, but he was not a dullard. He had known from the moment he found the holocron what Snoke had been - and these people were nothing of the sort. Nor were Kyle and Jan, for all of their imperfections. They had done the best by Kodo that they were able - but his trust was ultimately misplaced.

    "This is war," Vos extended a hand, "It is a given that many of the connections we will form are rushed, and sometimes misplaced. I do not believe I have misplaced them in you, but you believe you have misplaced them in others," he seemed to already be well in-tune with what the Kel Dor was thinking. "I would shell you of that jaded view, and explain what has happened to you. If you would allow me. It is time for Kodo Prine to rest, and rebuild. Vincent Mikaru will run to find himself.'

    Kodo took the hand which was extended, hesitantly. Physical contact of any sort was a bit of an awkward proposition.

    Quinlan paused. "Snoke will probably not let you. And so you need to decide what memories are yours, and what are not."

    Kodo exhaled, and closed his eyes, willing himself to calm. "Can you bring them all to the fore? The ones I've forgotten? I need to know what happened on Dagobah - that I may be relieved by the best of it and come to terms with the worst. I think now I can separate the real from the fake."

    TAG: Sinrebirth
     
  8. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 Manager Emeritus + Official Star Wars Artist star 7 VIP - Former Mod/RSA

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    IC: ‘Han Solo’ (Duke Praxon)
    Aboard the Rosa

    The hangar was a bustle of activity as the weary group finally emerged from the close confines of the Falcon and came to stand upon a gantry leading out from the top airlock. For their part, docking with the star cruiser had been a harrowing act in itself, but luckily, the old freighter had decided to cooperate long enough to allow for a half-way decent ‘marriage.’ If only the stress hadn’t knocked out additional systems throughout the ship in the process. As a result, they were now facing a fairly significant delay to conduct repairs, but considering that they had just tangled with a Sith Lord and lived, maybe it was a small price to pay in the grand scheme of things. Looking at it from that perspective, ‘Han’ decided that they had done all right.

    Well, most of them, anyway.

    Bre, for her bravery – or recklessness, depending on how you wanted to view it – had taken a pretty nasty hit. It wasn’t clear whether she had been physically wounded by Snoke or if she was simply in a state of shock, having been mentally drained by the whole ordeal. Whatever the cause, she had remained sprawled out upon the deck plates as he and Wyn passed back through the hold, unresponsive and appearing quite pale. He was no medic, but he didn't need to be one in order to know that she needed help.

    With Wyn's assistance, he was able to transfer her over to one of the bunks until they could request a medical team from the Rosa to properly examine her. In the mean time, Fred, ever reluctant to leave Bre's side, offered to stay behind to observe her and attend to any basic needs until they could return. While that seemed to be acceptable to the others, 'Han' himself had hoped to stay behind to carry out those tasks. His reasoning stemmed from a desire to have a private moment with Wyn, but one look from Leia told him that that wouldn't be in the cards today. In this crucial moment, he was needed out there as Han Solo, which was understandable…and ironic, considering he had just barely held himself back from berating Wyn for addressing him by his real name moments before.

    And so, that brought them to this moment.

    Stretching his tired muscles, ‘Han’ sauntered over to the edge of the gantry and leaned casually against the railing, thankful for the reprieve and content to simply observe the proceedings below for the time being in silence. His eyes wandered idly to the deck crew and their frenzied dance as they darted between spacecraft to service them, took note of a group of Mandalorians departing from their dilapidated craft, and even caught sight of Rhoen and another fighter as they came in for a hot landing. He scoffed lightly. They were a motley crew to be sure. Sometimes, he was amazed that they had managed to make it this far. And yet…isn’t this what the Alliance had been built upon since the very beginning?

    He inclined his head thoughtfully and suppressed a smile.

    “Who do you suppose came in on that fancy ride?” he wondered out loud a moment later as he noticed the Star Courier nestled in the center of the hangar, eclipsing the other ships in both luxury and size. It wasn’t all that different from some of the more extravagant yachts he had owned over the years. It almost made him a bit envious.

    And maybe a bit worried...

    He narrowed his eyes as he studied the craft. “Unless they’re running some kind of con, it doesn’t exactly fit in with the scenery, does it?”

    Becoming increasingly more restless with the situation, he shifted his weight and pushed away from the railing, intending to explore.

    TAG: Ktala; Kahn_Iceay; Mitth_Fisto; galactic-vagabond422; Sinrebirth
     
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  9. galactic-vagabond422

    galactic-vagabond422 Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jul 11, 2009
    OOC: Combo post with Sinrebirth

    IC: Rhoen Aquilla
    Hangar, Rosa, Yavin

    Rhoen landed hard on his feet causing him nearly fall to the ground. He scrambled to his feet and rushed over to Lysa's fighter, which landed first due to its faster speed. He got there just as she hit the ground.

    "Are you ok," he called out dropping to a knee beside her. His legs were weak but, he was still going to try this. He draped her arm over his shoulders then hooked his other arm under her armpit to try and lift her up off the floor. He gets a step or two before his legs give out sending both bodies collapsing to the deck again. "Ok," the young man started, panting, "New plan, I'm going to lay on the deck until I have enough strength back to stand." He let the cool metal radiate though his face. His muscles burned and his head felt heavy, he was exhausted from the engagement that felt like hours long.

    His mind began to wonder, on the decisions made, the people lost, on both sides. Did he really have to give the order to slaughter those transports? If he hadn't given that order how would things have turned out, would that pilot still be alive, would Genkal have made it out? A sense of failure entered his mind, this was his first command, his first action as leader of Corona Squadron, his mother's squadron, and now he'd seceded one of the most important planets in all the galaxy. Would his mother have done the same, would General Antilles, would anyone else have handled the situation differently.

    He let out a breath, turning to look at Lysa her deep blue eyes drawing him in deeper, and the questions just faded away. There would be time for questions and soul searching later, after a bit of rest. "Alright," he said heaving himself up, his wingmate's arm still over his shoulders. He got back to his feet with as much help as Lysa could give. Medical droids began moving into the space checking on everyone present. Rhoen waved them off, "We just need some rest." He was as weak as a squall, a small docile rodent from his home of Chandrila but, together the two pilots could stand, and maybe get somewhere nearby. He cast his eye around content to let his partner make the first steps.

    Lysa smiled at him. He had made her smile because of then floor comment. Typical Rhoen. As they stood together, Lysa took a tentatively step forward and then drew him after her. Together.

    And then Goran Beviin stepped up, the man removing his helmet. "That was some spectacular flying, you two. Definitely Jetii level." He came around to Rhoen's over side and helped prop him up, sharing the burden with Lysa. Lysa grinned at how incongruous it was. A fully armoured Mandalorian, helping them.

    A gurney hovered over, and Goran tapped it aside with his hip. "We don't need that." He helped them to sit on one of the benches, beside his satchel. He yanked it open, providing a canteen - electrolytes heavy, to restore what they had lost. He shook it at Lysa. "Ladies first."

    She took and greedily drank it, while Goran eyed up Rhoen. "I bet you're sick of people saying this, but your mother would have been proud of you. One helluva pilot, that one." He pursed his lips. "You showed real beskar today, firing on those First Order freaks. Well armed or not, those transports needed to go down."

    The weary pilot let out a little laugh, "You're right, I am a little sick of it." Did everyone in the entire galaxy know his mother? First Wedge Antilles, then Juno Merek, now this Mandalorian, so many people he couldn't remember meeting but that knew him already, it felt weird. He lazily rolled his head toward Lysa as she gulped down the contents of the canteen. A broad smile bloomed on his face, putting his feelings of getting commended on tactics by a Mandalorian, far into the back of his mind.

    He nudged her lightly with his elbow extending his hand afterward, "You gonna' share that, or should I ask one of the droids?" His head was so clouded with fatigue he could barely register the words he was speaking. A huge sense of relief began to wash over him. He was still alive, Lysa was still alive, right now the battle raging outside of the hull of the Etti curser felt a galaxy away. The small laughs that he'd given up till now started to build up in him. They'd survived a duel with one of the best pilots of the Empire, overcome a numerically superior force, and made it through the most surreal battles they'd ever seen. All the time in the simulator never prepared him for a temple exploding, taking an S-foil with it. Then the final dash for safety on a ship he didn't even know was friend or foe, judging by the lack of guards or wardroids flooding into the hangar the Captain was inclined to say this was most defiantly an ally.

    A deep breath ended his small laughing fit, finally releasing all the tension that had built up inside him. "Sorry," he said to the armored being, "Been a weird one today." When Lysa offered the canteen to him he gladly took it and drank as much as he could, resisting the urge to dump it on his head, he'd get a shower soon enough, hopefully.

    Fett snapped his fingers at Goran and ordered him over. He had to act so obviously as Goran had removed his helmet. The bounty hunter stared at Rhoen through his visor and then directed Goran to replace his helmet so they could speak privately.

    They were in hyperspace, at least. Lysa felt the vibrations and relaxed slightly, sagging against Rhoen. Her eyes closed slightly, and before she knew it she was nodding off.

    The others, Susular, Leia, and so forth, were out and about and the group would be milling. Leia seemed to have a face that suggested that she wanted to speak to their savior now, not later.

    "Hey," Rhoen shifted his shoulder trying to roust his wingmate, "Wake up." Her soft rhythmic breathing and warmth at his side made his head feel heavy. "Come on if you do this," He yawned loudly, he couldn't hold it back anymore, his eyelids began to droop. The right thing to do was to carry her to a bunk somewhere let her rest but, he barely had the strength to walk, much less carry her. "Alright you win," he said finally, letting out another yawn, "we'll rest here but, only for a bit." His eyes settled on General Organa-Solo she looked like she had something to do, hopefully it didn't involve him and Lysa, at least not for a little while. He looked up to see 'Han' looking over the hangar, the young pilot gave a lazy wave to the older man before turning to look at Lysa next to him.

    He stopped fighting the fatigue and let his eyes close and his body slump down on the bench. His head tilted to the side coming to rest against Lysa's crown. It wasn't too comfortable but, he was too tired to care at this moment. They had leapt into hyperspace, safe for the time being, he could let his guard down. His near hand wrapped around hers and he let himself drift off.

    If anything important happened, someone would wake them.

    TAG: Sinrebirth, HanSolo29 Kahn_Iceay Mitth_Fisto
     
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  10. Lord_Trekie

    Lord_Trekie Jedi Padawan

    Registered:
    Jun 27, 2016
    OOC: Kahn_Iceay as Ryn-pain-in-my-arse

    IC: Myna'vera
    Dandoran

    To say that Myna was in the sort of mood for shenanigans like this, would have been a lie as big as a Hutt. There wasn’t anyone who knew where she was going, other than the droids, and the person who contacted her in the first place. And anyone he might’ve told, she supposed to herself. Either way, she didn’t have time to figure it out now, and said as much.

    “I don’t have time for th-”, Myna’s statement was cut off by a brief, yet intense spasm of pain through whatever was affecting her. Though to her credit, the hooded man appeared to lower his guard oh so slightly. Which Dee took advantage of with only the speed a droid could, and shot the man in the upper chest with a stun blast from it’s mounted blaster cannon. There was a 0.02% chance it would have hit Kate instead of it’s target, but considering the stun setting… Dee wasn’t worried about collateral damage, just taking advantage of the distraction.

    Myna regained her composure and briskly walked over to the Astromech, taking the controller from the assailant and removing the restraining bolt from Kate. “Finish loading the ship Kate, Dee, watch him, I’ll be back in a minute.”

    Both droids beeped an affirmative as she left the landing pad and headed back inside the house. It had been a long time since she’d even reflected on her past, but now, it would prove useful as she retrieved the relics of her past, occupation, a set of Mandalorian manacles. Quickly making her way back outside she restrained the still unconscious man’s hands behind his back, and started dragging him none too gently towards the ship.

    By the time she had secured him in the Auxiliary airlock, Kate had the ship ready to go. Having set Dee to guard their prisoner, Myna set them on their way to Chandrila.

    ----

    More Than A Few Hours Later

    While their prisoner had regained consciousness hours earlier, Myna hadn’t had the patience to deal with him, not to mention, she wanted to let him stew for a while. He’d been trying to talk to her off and on, but she’d never responded. He’d really only repeated his request to accompany them to Chandrila, which at this point, well, the only other option was spacing him. And he didn’t seem to deserve that fate. Yet.

    With a groan, she resigned herself to finally go confront the man. When she arrived outside the airlock door, he immediately started pleading with her. She held up a hand to stop him, and when he finally took the hint, she addressed him.

    “How did you know I was going to Chandrila? I never filed a flight plan, and it’s not like my droid would have told anyone, much less you…”

    “I can’t tell you.”

    “What do you mean you can’t tell me? You can’t? Or you won’t? Did someone else tell you? Or did you somehow glean this information yourself?”

    “I’m a Ryn ma’am.” The man replied with a smile, uncurling his tail from around his waist for a moment. “We know things.”

    Myna rolled her eyes again and held her hand over the outer airlock door control. “You better start explaining a little better than that…”

    “Or you’ll space me?” He held up his hands, now, seemingly uncuffed, “I disabled the air-lock controls about an hour ago, along with sealing the maglocks, also disabled the alarm you had set up to go off if anyone does anything like that. You want to space me? You’re gonna have to decompress the whole ship.” The man continued to smile. “I answered your question, I’m a Ryn, we know things. Study your recent galactic history and you can read between the lines of that. I simply need to get to where you’re going, your ship is faster than a shuttle. I figured being more straightforward would have worked, than say, sneaking onboard one of the food crates?”

    Myna turned and punched the nearest bulkhead. Why did poodoo like this always have to come in droves. “I only found out I was going to Chandrila this morning, got the message for it last night, unless you are somehow the one who sent it, I still don’t see how you could know, which means if I have to I’ll go put on an enviro-suit and still go through with my plan to space you.”

    “Do you know how unsecure standard galactic communications are?” The Ryn tilted his head to the side, “If you like I can give you, as payment for this little trip, a lovely little decoding program that lets you listen in for things. Just plug it into a holocomm array and any signals that arrive locally will be scanned for certain markers, like say ‘from Chandrila’?”

    “I find it hard to believe that my employer would have been so careless with his communique, but let's say I humor you and believe it was as easy as you claim it was. Why are you in such a rush? I mean, I’m getting paid to hurry, what made you decide, this.”

    “Now that, I can’t tell you. Sorry.” And to his credit, he did look genuinely sorry. “Simply put, it is of great importance that I get to Chandrila, and do so quickly. Had there been another means, well, I would have taken it. Blame the Force, or Luck, or the Great Bird of the Galaxy, whatever you desire that it happened to be you. It’s just what it is.”

    “If I give you my word that I won’t harm you, will you undo whatever you’ve done to my ship? I’ve been under a great deal of stress, and I feel like I’ve been uncharacteristically rude, despite, and considering, my past.”

    “Oh I’ll undo it, but only once we get to Chandrila, I’m sorry but I just can’t take any chances.”

    Screaming in frustration, Myna walked away, this was turning into a very irritating trip, and she hadn’t even gotten to the fun part yet...

    Tag: Sinrebirth
     
  11. Ktala

    Ktala Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2002
    Belila Gambros (Bre)
    Somewhere over the tain... Oh nope, wait....
    Aboard the Millennium Falcon, Yavin


    Fred stayed glued to Bre, while Praxton and Wyn moved her to a more comfortable spot. His worried beeps and whistles, every time they looked as if they might drop her, (Which of course, they did not!) still didnt passify Fred, until they finally laid her down. Then Leia, Praxton and Wyn leave the ship, technically leaving him in charge.

    He scanned the area around him, noting all the damage, even as he had the Falcon run its internal diagnostics. He didnt leave Bre's sight, and scanned her frequently, even after her body rhythms fell back into what he would consider normal. He was still trying to process everything he had seen. information to be researched when he had some downtime. Perhaps there could be something useful hidden
    there. With all the strange things that had happened around this planet. The appearance of the man in gold armor. How he appeared and disappeared. A bit of missing time, that Fred had in his memory banks. And then when they got to the planet. Enough to make a poor droid loose his sparks! He would have plenty to tell BB-8, if he got the chance. And then the fighting. Fred understood some things, but others
    completely were beyond his scope of things. And after looking at Bre, perhaps it was better that way. Hmmm. Speaking of useful, Fred looked around until he located Bre's pack, near her poor bike. He quickly grabbed it, and dragged it back towards where Bre lay. The scorch marks, and bit of sparking from the poor Falcon would have to wait. Besides, it was still running its lengthy diagnostics program.

    Sitting down next to Bre, he began to go through the items in her pack, muttering in a way, only a cantankerous nervous droid could mutter, while its many arms were busy searching for something. He continued digging through her pack. He remember she had something, she used once a very long time ago. It was when they were pulling a triple shift, and she had to stay awake to complete repairs on this ship
    that they knew was working for the republic. It had been badly damaged, but Bre was going to make sure it got out of there, because there was another ship in the sector hunting it. They coudlnt allow it to be caught. Even gave it a bit of a paint job....but they got the job done.

    He dug through her pouch, until he found what he was looking for, and then gave an excited little bleep. Yes, this was the thing. He also remembered that she didnt really like the after effects, so she didnt use it much. But as she would put it, 'in case of emergencies.' Wasnt this an emergency? He fought with himself. Yes, he knew she was tired. But would she want to be so out of things, especially now, after
    what all that had happened? They were docked to a big ship they knew nothing about. But General Leia seemed to think it was ok. She was practically the first one off the ship. Fred rocked on all of his limbs, as he tried to reason with himself.

    He popped the hypo.


    -0-0-


    *twip*

    .

    *crunch, crunch...jingle..*

    ..

    *Bweet, bweet, brzzz reet!*

    ...


    Prismaticspraycollidingwhitelightblindingflashbang! Heart.
    Heartsmotorreavingclashaingsoundsofmetalsparkingflyingoutofcontrol.
    AngerscreamingdeathdeathDEATHangerfurryhatemustkillsoontodiescreamslightingflyingaway...
    screamscreamscreamscream...


    'Wha?.. What?'

    Bre slowy opened an eye. Consciousness wasnt exactly something she was looking forward to at the moment, it seemed highly overrated. But Bre kept hearing unusual noises, that were finally enough to wake her up. Her ears pounded, as she suddenly noticed her heart rate seemed a bit fast for someone laying on ... a bunk? When had she gotten there? Well, at least she was not in a jail cell, so there was that. The second eye opened, as she saw Fred, holding a hypro-spray in one of his many hands.

    Well, that explained much. Wobbly, she reached over and took the spray from Fred, coughing to clear her throat. She made a gesture for something to drink, which Fred, now overjoyed that Bre was moving, happily moved to her pack, and grab something for her to drink, as he in rapid fire tried to update her on what had been going on, while she had been sleeping. She cut him off with a wave of the hand, as she took the pouch. Her hand shook. A lot. Too..much right now." she told him gently, while he settled down on the floor.

    Bre looked up, and noticed that the lights in the room had quite a colorful effect going on around them. She would have to meditate, or she was going to have quite the headache behind this. With a bit of help from Fred, she moved to a sitting position. Hmm. The Falcon's engines were off. She was pretty sure Han would not have gone back to Yavin. So they were docked? She looked over towards Fred, gave her a forlorn bleep. She smiled softly, as she drank deeply from the pouch he had given her. After she finished, she gave Fred a gesture. Fred began a series of bleeps and other sound effects, as he attempted to catch her up on what had happened since she had been asleep. She was amazed to find out that she had not been asleep as long as it had felt like. When Fred was finished, he grew quiet, sitting on his haunches. Bre left out a large exhale. She did not allow herself to focus on what had happened. She was not ready for that. Not at the moment. Instead, she only focused on the now. And right now, that bloody narcotic that Fred had given her, would keep her awake, wether she wanted to be or not. For a while at least. But she was not ready to venture out, and see what was going on. So instead, Bre leaned back, feeling the cool metal of the ship against her back. She slipped the hypo back into her stuff, and shook her head, immediately regretting the movement. Another long sigh. With Fred watching over her, she closed her eyes once more. Fred wasnt worried this time. He knew what she was doing. So, he began going over the list of issues wrong with the Falcon while he waited.



    TAG: HanSolo29, Sinrebirth
     
  12. Lady Belligerent

    Lady Belligerent • WNU Adoptions Coordinator• star 7 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Jan 29, 2008
    IC: Jaina Solo
    Ravager

    For the last several hours Jaina felt like she'd faced some stupid obstacle in her path at every turn. These guys and their flame throwers, "don't you have anything more interesting?" She doubted they heard her, and she was more focused on the fire suppression system anyway. Built into the ceiling, this ship had a standard system, and she was quite familiar with them. Jaina and her siblings had caused mayhem many times through the years by setting them off and hiding to watch the chaos it caused.

    All she had to do was apply a little nudge through the force and fire suppression chemicals would be handling the flame throwers. Before she could fully appreciate the results of her effort, a blinding pain jolted through her head. "No! Get out!" She was struggling to slam mental shields into place and fight off troopers. "This may not have been my best idea," she sighed and ignited her lightsaber.

    She hit the control panel on the nearest door, it was a stairway and she darted in. Once inside she jammed her lightsaber into the door controls and took off down the stairs.

    The pain resolved into a voice.

    Jaina Solo.

    It appears I will have to take matters into my own hands.


    Cappie tooted with celebration. The droid had found a functional tram to the bridge - one of two that remained, the other in the hands of her brother.

    It also estimated, when she made it to the tram, the trip would take roughly half an hour, and Cappie could manage it so nobody interfered. In a mad way, Jaina would have a moment of peace in the middle of the dead ship.

    But as she met the landing of the next stairway a trooper rounded the corner at the same time as she; and her danger sense didn't warn her. There were three more behind the trooper, coming down the steps with blasters drawn.

    Too close.

    She grabbed the rails on either side and used them to swing back, and then kicked forward with both legs. As she kicked, she waved a burst of force energy to toss the troopers to the rear towards the stairs downward.

    The troopers fell back, and down the steps. One grabbed her ankle as he went, and a second grabbed him to add his weight. Stubborn zealous and frankly mental; an apt description of the level of commitment a First Order trooper had.

    She kicked out, with her free leg, at the one holding her ankle and rolled with the fall. "Get off, sleemo," she gritted her teeth and kicked him a second time. As she scrambled to get her footing, she used the force to pull a flame thrower from one of the troopers rolling around on the stairs. She pointed it down the stairs and pulled the trigger.

    The troopers promptly screamed, liquefied, or ran. It was messy, and time was lost again. Another group of four were clattering in the distance, no flame throwers but holding riot shields and pistols in their hands. The enemy was coordinating by sheer numbers. One smarter man drew a bead on the flame thrower tank and aimed a shot.

    "Gah!" Jaina shook her head, and once again triggered the fire suppression system. Foamy chemicals started spraying from the ceiling, just as it had in the hallway, and it made the floor slippery. Rather than tumble down more stairs, she hopped on the banister and slid down. She flew off at the bottom of the flight and rushed out the door on the landing.

    Cappie tweeted a quick update to her; there was a lift across the way which could bypass the steps, and Cappie thought that he could take control of the remaining lift. Of course, the lift was occupied by another four man squad, heading along to the front of the hangar, having not caught up as to where she was now.

    These could not be avoided, if she sought to take the lift. Stairs were further way, but Cappie could not anticipate even more troopers on the way to the second stairs.

    It was getting more and more crowded, and doubling back down the steps had cost her even more time.

    "Lift it is," she answered back softly. Her head was still throbbing, but she didn't have time to stop and ponder the voice or the attack right now. 'What's four more troopers at this point, maybe they will have something besides a flamethrower,' Jaina thought as she ran in the direction Cappie indicated.

    The lift opened and four troopers with stun batons drew rushed her, their weapons crackling in unison as they attempted to overwhelm her with a concerted charge.

    Her eyes narrowed as she used the Force to grab up one trooper, and used him like a bat to send the rest flying into the wall, "I'm so glad you guys weren't assigned flamethrowers," Jaina shouted as she sprinted past them. She rushed into the lift and closed the door, "I'm in Cappie, now what?"

    Tag: Sinrebirth
     
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  13. Mitth_Fisto

    Mitth_Fisto Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 29, 2005
    IC: Susulur Dha'tra
    Boarding the Rosa, Leaving Yavin System

    Seeing the bustle of activity and the surge of some form of droid line into the hanger was a bit off-putting. As in hand to the weapon at your hip kind of off-putting, still he didn't draw and he didn't fire, much to his own credit. Although the second possibly would of been that the twisting motion had sent a pulse of pain from his sternum that was able to overwhelm the nano-bot suppressors working that nerve cluster. Another reason he needed a medic, what he had in theory was a small flap bandage for something that required a surgeon and a lot more medical supplies than you find in most first aid kits. . . actually if he changed that to pain and inflammation blockers instead of a flap bandage that was exactly what he had.

    Looking at the odd little floating droid that bobbed over on a repulsorlifts he had to take a beat, and then let his helmet do so as well as it compared the droid to it's identification databanks. Finally a match displayed as the droid came up to him after getting waved away from the pair by the starfighters, "Do you require medical assistance?" AZI-model Medical droid matched. Interesting. He wasn't sure he had every run into one of the runts before.

    "Yes." best to keep it simple until he got a feel for the droid.

    "Please state the nature of the medical emergency. Are you bleeding externally or critically? Where does it hurt on a scale of one to ten? Please have a seat on the provided stretcher. Lay down if preferred so long as no suspected spinal injury. Oh good heavens that armor is getting in the way, may I cut it off via the body glove to be better able to perform an exam? What is your species? Any known pre-existing conditions? When was your last bowel movement? . . ."

    Sitting on the stretcher had been nice as it floated up behind him. Unhooking from the repel line he let it auto-retract into his ship and sent the code for it to close up. Letting the questions wash over him he sat there in a moment of peace as they began floating toward what he assumed was an indicated medical bay. "Broken bones in sternum area. Just internally, and self-medicated in the field. Only if I can return the favor to your chassis. Listen, I have a basic medical record. I will transfer it to you, if you agree to annotate amendments to me and scrub all data afterwards. I need to be battle ready as of an hour ago. And can you perform an implantation? All with pain blockers only. I must not loose consciousness."

    "Oh good heavens. What an unusual request, I shall have to see what we have in stores. Now what did you use? Field treatments by injured parties are shown to most often be highly inaccurate to the correct treatment protocols. Thank the maker you did not kill yourself in dealing with the pain, and you are talking far too much. You might not be feeling the pain with whatever you took but you are still agitating the area and possibly causing a shift toward an internal cutting of your primary oxygenation and nutrient distribution organs, lungs and heart respectively. Breath shallow if you can. My, my. What do they teach warriors these days, nothing about internal injury survival I'd wager. If I ever did wager anything, not that I have any credits to wager, but you get the point. Now let's see about all of this and whatever do you mean about an implant? I haven't even assessed the damage yet! No need to go jumping to lost body parts at the drop of helmet. Now. . . "

    On second thought, perhaps he should reconsider that 'no sedation' request. That or else ask someone to take his weapons before he shot the medic.

    TAG: Sinrebirth, Kahn_Iceay, @others in the hanger of the Rosa
     
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  14. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Immortal Mod-King of the EUC, RPF and SWC star 8 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    IC: Chapter Twenty-Two

    Worlds fell across the Northern Dependencies; dozens of conquests, reaching towards the Hydian Way.

    But not without casualties. Grand Admiral Dorja glanced at the display. The shipyards at Ord Trasi, under slow redevelopment since the Yuuzhan Vong War, had been struck and destroyed. But wreckage at the site showed that ships were missing, which suggests they had been stolen. Surviving eye witnesses - of which there were very few, suggested a Resistance raid, but the civilian casualties suggested otherwise.

    Troubling.

    He had twelve Star Destroyers and a wider purview than Hux or Phasma. Thus, Dorja detached two Star Destroyers to look into the issue. It was the Remnant fleet which was busy conquering the region, and much of the fleet was thus not as modern as the First Order fleet, but also not as hodgepodge as the Centrist offerings.

    For now though, he was moored at Yavin clucking the remains of the battle. Half the Antemeridian fleet lost, and the Bellicose. Costly.

    Dorja's eyes cast to the galactic map. Hux was mired at Ord Mantell and it showed, what with the fleet holding at Dorin waiting for him. He was tempted to dispatch his fleet to Ord Mantell... Dorja had not had opportunity to speak to Hidax since his 'demotion', so he would enjoy snubbing Phasma and Hux to speak to him. Similarly, however, he could lay the ground work and invade Chandrila now, and force that smarmy red head to catch up.

    Decisions.

    And then... There was a communication.

    A rendezvous with the Supreme Leader?

    ---
    IC: Lon Shevu
    Coruscant depths

    Lory swung for Shevu, and the man's eyes widened, the Besalisk resisting the attack. When Shevu snapped at the man, and drew up a blaster, Lory knew he had no choice. So he did it.

    His other hands came up and cupped into a fist and caught the humans chin in an uppercut. Lon's eyes rolled into his head, and he was gone. Lory turned back the direction he had been looking when his hands had acted of their own accord. 'Come on out, Stark-y.'

    'You must be here. Who wants me dead, then?'

    He struck a pose, ready to fight.

    TAG: Moonspun Dragon
    ---
    IC: Phasma
    Battle of Ord Mantell

    The Mandalorian lines crumbled, and the forces fell back. For a brief moment, Hidax and the Private - Phasma would have mentally referred to Hidax by a rank if he had one - had pushed back the enemy with Phasma's cover. 'Set the charges,' the Captain directed the other two troopers. Impressive efforts all around.

    Phasma spoke as they did. 'Hidax, cover the stairs, Private, cover the plaza.' She continued, running an analysis. 'The Mandalorians have not made use of mines, rockets or grenades. It would appear that they are low on material munitions. This may explain the withdrawal rather than them digging in.' In she org, she mentally adder, they are at breaking point, insofar as much as they were. A quick echolocation and Phasma confirmed. 'Fourteen surviving targets in the tower. Seven are congregating at the windows, the rest are withdrawing to the second floor.' A frown, inside her helmet. 'They should be positioning themselves at the best ambush points -'

    All of a sudden a roar of simultaneous ignitions rippled out. All seven Mandalorians activated their rocket launchers and bounded out, taking the position that Phasma, Hidax and the others had charge from. The charges were set, and Phasma simply looked at Hidax, glowered one more time, before nodding at the Private.

    She keyed the remote to activate in three minutes, looked at the plaza, strewn with bodies, pockmarked with small craters from grenade damage, and generally a considerably messier consideration than it had been when they charged at the tower. But the enemy now had the advantage of cover; the cover Phasma and Hidax had used to pick off the enemy.

    But they could not withdraw into the tower and fight from room-to-room; they would be caught between two opposing forces and destroyed... And they would have left their adhesive-secured-explosives behind in the retreat.

    One choice.

    The hard choice.

    The only choice.

    The First choice.

    'Charge.'

    She triggered the bombs, the remote loudly signalling the weapons were primed.

    At least they would win the battle even if they did not survive.

    TAG: Darth_wanderguard, @Halle-Dray
    ---
    IC: Snoke
    En route to Esfandia, but only for a brief stop

    Exhaustion was a potential issue, yes, but it was also not. He had genealogies to go through. Vincent Mikaru was connected to the Outlanders. Were the others? Is that why they had arisen to face him?

    He had been painstaking in looking for the connections to the past that could arise to threaten him. It was why he had been on Yavin, erasing a great threat. Many Sith family trees had came to an end already: Sorzus Syn with Grand Admiral Syn at the Battle of Kashyyyk, when he had brought reinforcements to the system in the immediate aftermath of the breaking of the warlord state there; Bron Dooku was dead, his son also having reported to have died in the Battle of Korriban at the hands of Skywalker himself during the Ragnos Crisis; the current Draco was a nobody, a Force mute, likely due to Palpatine's personal interference. The same was true of the Jedi family trees - the Skywalker clan was scattered, the Horn clan a minor remnant of influence in the face of the broken HoloNet.

    And so on.

    But he needed to focus. Mikaru had a legacy moment, on a world connected with the story of the Outlander. The rest of the plan did not require visiting such places.

    Information that he had lost track of in the last few hours bubbled to the surface. A dig on Chandrila... Thank you for the titbit, Admiral Daala, he absently thought. She did not even know she was supplying him. It would bear investigation, but he would need bounty hunters... A cult he had been slowly working through erasing, giving them difficult tasks, siccing them against each other, and so on, insofar as much as he had been erasing threats throughout the underworld to his coming reign.

    He cast his senses around, checking. They were behind him... But so were others. More enemies, surprising ones. The light of Jedi was among those echoes he knew. No Vincent, more the pity, but his time would come. Regardless, the more that followed, all the sweeter his victory would be.

    And so he again cast his mind deeper into the Unknown Regions, using the wake left by all of his thousands of vassals to perpetuate the connection.

    Off to his flagship, Snoke was.

    Off to enact Stage Two of the Plan.

    --
    Also en route, aboard the Rosa, hyperspace

    Eventually matters came together. While Susular was undergoing a slapdash surgery on his wound, Damask led Argen down. Gone was the witty banker that had been there previously, instead the Muun was a considerably more quiet man.

    Leia had been absently tapping her foot in impatience, never one to just trust that someone was as forthright as they were. Genkal and Wyn headed down, with Praxon. Damask inclined a nod to them all, electing to speak to them all. Fett turned his head, indicating he was paying attention. Goran looked unhappy when he removed his helmet, but stoic at the same time.

    'Greetings, Princess, Captains,' he said, indicating Leia, Praxon and Genkal. 'Manda'lor,' to Fett, 'and others.' His gesture took in Goran, Bre and Fred, if they were there, Kyp, Rhoen and Lysa, the latter who was nudging him awake. Susular was still conscious to listen '.I am Banker Damask, and I am here to convey to you my apologies for miring Captain Argen and his crew in this mess.' He indicated their host, the Captain, and his droids. 'But I would vouch for him, if such a matter helped.'

    Leia stayed quiet. BB-8 sharply looked at her, and then at the Muun, and then at Fred, beeping softly in concern.

    'I have been following a financial connection between the First Order and the historic Estate of my relative, Hego Damask. These accounts were frozen at his death at the time of the Battle of Naboo, and have in the last few weeks been accessed.' In the Force, which was something Argen would not have been ascertained, the veneer of a lie tugged at the end of the sentence. 'Perhaps longer,' he lamented, and the lie faded. Habits died hard.

    Fett shrugged. 'That's nice.' He took over the meeting. 'Before we left I got a fix on where Snoke jumped. It's in Wild Space, and I fed those coordinates to Argen here.' An incline of his head. 'Esfandia.'

    At this Genkal spoke up, gravelly. 'Where Admiral Ackbar was heading with two of our cruisers.'

    Leia quickly filled them all in that just before the destruction of Starkiller base they had managed to pick up on a transmission bounced off the Generis and Esfandia relays for the Unknown Regions, encrypted in the fashion that Snoke used when speaking to Hux and Kylo Ren and other high end Imperials. Ackbar had left just before Rhoen and Corona Squadron had arrived; Poe had been fighting to access the databanks at Generis at last contact. Leia reasoned that as Kylo Ren had been injured during the battle to destroy the Starkiller weapon, that now Snoke was injured, they would convalesce together in the hope that the war would keep them too busy.

    She made no mention of Han Solo being simultaneously dead and beside them. Only Rey, Praxon, Wyn, Fin, Chewbacca and her son were aware of this as a fact. The others - Bre, Rhoen, Lysa - could probably guess, if they knew Praxon was only an actor. She would have expected Jaina or Jacen to have picked up on it, but they must have been too far away to do so.

    Leia absently reflected that Snoke must have been unaware too.

    The General spoke up, continuing. 'Financial data will be useful when to hunt the traitors in the New Republic as a starting point of where funds came from, but that's for the future.' She looked to them all. 'For now we need to decide whether we are in a fit state to press the advantage. We sent a Dark Lord of the Sith packing. If we are to recapture and deprogram my son, then we need to push on. I know it's been hard for you all, but we can do it.'

    Kyp raised a thumb to his X-wing. 'I can give Rhoen my fighter if he's up for it, and join the crew of the Falcon, unless Fett needs s co-pilot.' A snort from Goran. 'But we're in essence going to be deciding on an A Team, which is going to be the distraction on the outside of whatever ship or installation we're going to be raiding, and the B Team, which is going in.'

    Genkal cleared his throat. 'I would be seeking to rejoin the naval command at the earliest opportunity. I am not a...' There was a pause as the officer searched for a word that wasn't assassin. 'Fighter. So I shall seek to rejoin Admiral Ackbar at Esfandia regardless of whether you choose to delve deeper into the Unknown Regions.' An eye lolled around the group. 'Any of you are welcome to join me.'

    Leia allowed her face to go neutral. The battle had been ferocious. They were volunteers, in their entirety. Genkal reminded her of this in a subtle and caring manner, the typical Mon Calamari tendency to think of everyone at once.

    Wyn absently nudged Praxon during the talking. They hadn't mentioned Jaina's message. It might be relevant, what with the system it had originated from being on a straight line from Esfandia deeper into the Unknown Regions.

    But the conversation was about to roll, and roll it would. At some point rest would need to be decided upon, and rooms billeted, even as a plan of action was drawn up.

    --
    Aboard the Rogue Shadow, en route also

    Ahead of the Rosa was the Rogue Shadow, and ahead of them was the Snoke One.

    Juno was busy with her husband getting the lay of Esfandia, a world which had formerly been part of the Empire of the Hand, until it's sudden disappearance. More was known about the Empire of the Hand than the First Order, which was to say; not very much.

    There were guesses, incorrect and accurate, gaps, holes and extrapolations, and it's sum total was a handful of facts plotted among a thousand stars; impossible to ascertain, impossible to confirm, and deeply and incredibly infuriating. In microcosm, the soul of a sentient being reflected this conundrum, and none more so than Kodo Prine.

    Quinlan Vos spoke softly as he drew the pair of them into the mental construct that existed as a weaving of his psychometry and mmenotherapy. A realm of white rose up around them, and then painted into it where their surroundings, vaguely upon the canvass and all the more so as it was starkly apparent that they were no longer in the real world, they were in a place of meditation, as much liquid as solid in suppleness.

    The backdrop became inked with a splotch of darkness, drew into the shape of Vos, pacing behind the man who was cross legged on the floor, his eyes closed even here. 'My darkness.' The Vos became painted in grey, his hair black, his eyes golden. 'I apprenticed to Darth Tyranus in an effort to discover the identity of the Second Sith. I failed, and I fell to the dark side. Or so I suggested. I started as double agent, and then became triple, and then again and again, turning myself inside out until I had in-fact, fell. I pulled myself back from that brink, with the help of my friends and... A woman, a woman who I fell for on my fall into the darkness. Her death sobered me, drove me to find my way back to my now wife, and I found my solace and faced down Order 66 and survived.' His shadow version receded into colour, showing a woman, with long pink-purple hair, with a baby swathed in a blanket in his arms as he smiled.

    'I passed my true Trial. In many ways, the Jedi Order's arrogance came from the fact that it judged itself too lightly when it came to personal darkness. Many Jedi did not wrestle with it, did not face the mirror and passed the Trial. Rigid control replaced inner peace, and an adherence to the rules became more important than right over might.'

    As Vos spoke, Kodo would become aware of the ink creating an impression of himself. It appeared similar, but inked around its skin were blotches of black, and a long scar ran down his face. 'The most balanced Jedi are those who have truly faced their personal darkness and triumphed. Sometimes the greater the Jedi, the more of these trials they will face. Your Luke Skywalker faced it many times over. With the redemption of his father, with his dabbling at the hands of the Emperor, with his wife's illness, with the death of...' Vos's face frowned. 'No, not that.'

    Vos pointed at the ersatz Kodo. 'You focus upon the negatives, but you do not see this.' The heart of the simulacrum shone, a purity that belied the rest. 'You are a strong soul, and have excised much of your personal darkness from yourself. But doubts undermine you, nibbling at you,' he cast a hand at the black patches. 'Because of your mental scar; your missing memory.'

    The aged man gestured, drawing the scar apart from the Kodo, and it floated in front of them. 'I can attempt to remove it, with your consent. It will either permanently remove the memory, and the attached fear, as you will be unable to worry about it... Or it will reveal what is hidden, and all that flows from there.'

    Vos did not judge. He did not add that the former solution would leave him vulnerable to another psychic episode, and it may even cap his potential as his form had not surpassed the memory, it had bypassed it. Whatever had happened was not tied to the massacre of the Jedi Order by Kylo Ren, that was apparent, but it had followed it.

    ---
    Aboard the Ravager, Unknown Regions

    Jaina had arrived at the centre of the Super Star Destroyer. Running through was a vast train like complex, allowing for swift travel up the length of the seventeen kilometres of ship.

    Cappie had secured a train, but the only other surviving one was currently on its way to the bridge, with a sole occupant aboard. The Force told her that it was her eldest brother.

    But she would be another hour before she reached him, maybe more, what with the damage to the ship. Cappie tweeted, urging her to rest, and promising that the droid would wake her if needed. There were refreshments aboard the carriage, flavourless Imperial fare, but food and drink either way. The astromech also updated her that half of the troopers were already milling at the station, ready for her if she returned to the X-wing that way, but the other half of the battalion were marching up the ship. They would reach the bridge in hours, but they existed as a factor. Further, the attack which had scoured and vented the outer decks had made it impossible for them to communicate with the HoloNet relay on Esfandia and contact Yavin.

    They were alone again.

    But, of course, Jaina was not.

    Her head ached with the mental pressure of another mind attempting to gain purchase. Someone wanted her attention, or maybe just to irritate her. Her twins' words popped up. Careful, his emotions cautioned, across their twin bond, which Jacen had reopened since their first visitation.

    If Jaina were to turn her minds eye to the mental probe and do anything but drive it out, it would acquire a shape in the form of a cloaked man, sitting astride a throne, his bare head bowed, a great scar running up the forehead.

    If she let it.

    TAG: @Lady_Belligerent, Darth_wanderguard, galactic-vagabond422, Ktala, HanSolo29, @Mitth-Fisto, Kahn_Iceay
    ---
    IC: Cha Niathal
    En route to wherever

    The fleet escaped the Battle of Yavin just moments after it arrived, a brief engagement perpetuated by more than its fair share of surprises. Damage was minimal, but events for Vincent Mikaru were more than just incidental.

    Callista was catching up, in-between coordinating the fleet, but when they arrived she knew that they would have problem. 'You can't have it,' she added, icily, and turned to follow Aden and Vincent, the former who was heading towards the hangar while he spoke softly.

    Niathal looked bewildered for a moment. Have what? When they arrived; she saw it, and she wanted it. Damn.

    The Mon Cala Admiral needed to focus on what she had, not what she didn't. Until she could climb out of the gutter and fight back effectively, taking more would be moot. But she was definitely going to ask about how quickly she could make that Dreadnought mobile at the heart of the base mobile again...

    ---
    Aden ambled, only going as fast as Vincent was, stopping when he did, shrugging off questions until his narrative was complete. The two of them, by virtue of their meld a moment ago, almost felt like two entities in a soft egg, stretching apart but not all that far.

    The Jensaarai checked himself, made sure that he was not accessible by the Firedancer, and that he was not forming a connection that could be abused. At the moment Vincent was aimless, and Aden could lead, but that would not last around a Mikaru.

    'I suspected that your family tree reached as far back as one of the Outlanders who fought the Eternal Empire. The Jensaarai has taken a wider view than just the current conflict, and been researching the same.' True, there. 'There are others.' Aden stared into the distance. 'The head researcher, a man known only as Wry, was looking into this some two decades ago - he had a grant from the University of Kamparas, and eventually discovered the tomb of the Braesenthor, on Chandrila. A Jedi tomb was strange, at the best of days, but there were at least two Jedi, or perhaps I should say former Jedi, among the leaders of the force that fought Emperor Arcann.'

    Aden was referencing relatively unknown history. For most of the known Galaxy, the Eternal Empire emerged from the Unknown Regions and after five brief years devastated the Republic and Empire, driving them to surrender and accept Star Fortresses as orbital weapons holding whole worlds hostage. The actual boots on the ground were minimal save for key strategic points, and as such the Eternal Empire's lasting impact on the galaxy was quite limited, even though it had, at the time, represented the greatest threat the Jedi and Sith had ever faced. The timeframe for the final collapse of the Eternal Empire was still unclear, as most of the true war had been fought in the Unknown Regions between a coalition of Jedi, Sith, Republicans and Imperials known as the Alliance.

    'Wry died during the Disciples of Ragnos Crisis, and the tomb on Chandrila collapsed.' Aden produced a datacard from his robes with a deftness belying his helplessness. 'However, there has been a deeper cave-in, in the last three weeks, slightly before the destruction of the New Republic. It has unearthed the tomb. I suspect that a descendant of the Outlander could obtain more access than a basic Jedi Knight like Jaden Korr.'

    The man paused. 'But I am more interested in seeing if this revelation makes anything within your knowledge of the Mikaru Clan more suspect, more curious, or completely illuminates mysteries in the family museums.'

    Aden Kya smiled mildly, and slowly reached into a pocket for a cigara. 'Do you need one of these?'

    TAG: Kahn_Iceay
    ---
    IC: Nameless Ryn
    En route to Chandrila

    It was mildly fun to be aggravating. This particular Ryn had not had opportunity to be this annoying to someone since the Yuuzhan Vong War. He shrugged, his shoulders rippling fluidly as he walked into the rest of the ship; an airlock sealed to keep him out? That didn't stop him. 'I do apologise, sincerely, but I had places to be.'

    'It is not as if you have much on since Hosnian anyway.' He wandered to the galley, began picking through the cupboards. 'I take it you're going all the way to Chandrila to take the job? It seems pretty exciting. Ancient Jedi tomb, complete with a connection to the Sith. The guy buried there was not even a particularly traditional Jedi; I hear they broke out of the light and dark mumbo jumbo during the Eternal War.' Like how the Galaxy had came together in the wake of the Yuuzhan Vong arrival.

    The destroyer droid was keeping pace with him as he spoke, but the Ryn was a good judge of character; his death would be fairly unlikely to occur unless he did something directly threatening. Myna had given her word, and he had accepted it.

    'I do have a name, and I am pretty willing to share it, if you want it, but it's a little reliant on whether you're running from a problem or towards this job. You're not prone to investigation before a job, but you're also very jumpy.'

    The Ryn gave another fluid shrug. 'I might have read your cards before I came aboard, so I have a sense of you in advance. I know it's cheating, but I don't have time to get to know you all the way if we're going to part company...' At the last he drawled.

    TAG: Lord_Trekie


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  15. Moonspun Dragon

    Moonspun Dragon Jedi Grand Master star 5

    Registered:
    Apr 6, 2011
    IC- Izzy Stark a.k.a. The Ripper
    Coruscant

    Izzy grinned in delight at the brief skirmish she had caused. She was enjoying herself immensely.

    When the Besalisk punched the human, she giggled. This was very thrilling.

    'Come on out, Stark-y.'

    Stark remained in the shadows, her irritation piqued slightly. Stark-y? she snorted. I may be crazy, but I'd only answer to that if I were insane.

    'You must be here. Who wants me dead, then?'

    Izzy straightened and slowly stepped out of the shadow of the building. Her pretty face was set in a mock pout. "Oh, come now, Lory. You're not gonna get far with that outlook on life. Why so glum, pumpkin? Did you miss your nap?"

    Her arms were crossed over her chest. Unseen, her grip tightened on her daggers. She was ready to strike. All she was waiting for was the right moment.

    Tag: Sinrebirth
     
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  16. Mitth_Fisto

    Mitth_Fisto Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 29, 2005
    IC: Susulur Dha'tra
    Med Bay, Rosa

    Looking at the skeletal face of the med droid in the ships med bay he calmly acknowledged it with a nod of his head in ascent. They both knew what he was here for. He had explained it to the AZI droid on the way here, once he was able to get words in edgewise, and the AZI droid had transmitted or communicated that information to the more stoic medical droids that now would actually perform his surgeries. With some reluctance they had carefully removed his armor and then his body-glove from the waist up. Surprisingly without too much agony on his part, although his partial nerve block by the nanites in his system probably had a lot more to do with that than the medical droids tender approach.

    As the droids administered an injection the back of his neck. . .well to be honest seven small injections to numb both his intercostal nerves and provide a nerve block for secondary sensory nerves to his chest. After a few moments to let the drugs take effect he was laid back on the surgical table by guiding appendages and the spot light of attention was drawn to center mass. Disconcerting was the mildest form one could call this situation as he was expected to hold still as a knife was put to his chest, alright a laser scalpel but the definition still held.

    The small incision was made, causing a mild discomfort, more so from the smell of his own burnt flesh tinging the air than anything. Small manipulators were inserted and grasped the edges of his bones. The whirring of the medical droids silent symphony and the changing data displayed in his bucce that he asked them to share was all that there was to distract or comfort him. As the droids pulled back on his skin he was glad that the meds were working, as he merely felt a tugging sensation instead of the pain of flesh being rolled back in any meaningful way.

    As they shifted his bone back into place he noted the small hole in his sternum that the fracture bisected. A sternal foramen was the short answer that popped up next to his wondering gaze, as well as a simulation of the intense g-forces having broken his sternum in two along that point, although if he had been born with out it a second simulation showed that the chances of the fracture having been comminuted into many pieces, some shaped like needles that would of more easily punctured his lunges or heart increased dramatically.

    The meeting began about then. He had nothing to add as he watched remotely through his helmets uplink in another corner of his vision. Truth be told beyond where they were going nothing of import seemed to be shared yet.

    The droids then moved his two halves of a sternum back into place before moving them apart slightly. The fact that they were not having to scrape him off a bulkhead was a sign of the modern miracles of modern medicine at work when the proper drugs were given as per species, sub-genome expressions, and tolerances as stated in his medical history. One had to love medicine at a time like this. The droids then inserted a thin layer bone cement and brought the two ends fully together. As a specific frequency of strobe light played upon the hardening bone-cement another tubule was inserted and began secreting a bacta based gel around the wounded bone, and sprayed behind it on his heart sac and lungs, which showed some signs of bruising and rough treatment. Surprise, surprise.

    Once finished the droids closed up his would and sealed it with some skin glue. Good as new or your credits back he was sure once one dug deeper than the warning labels of taking it easy for a few days to couple weeks. Still they were not finished as they began to inject into his skin lower, something which made him flinch as he realized it was below the numbed area and this, this would only receive skin numbing for the second operation. Well he guessed you get what you pay for, and in this case he really couldn't complain as they once made the smell of his own burning flesh accost his nose.

    TAG: Sinrebirth, Kahn_Iceay
     
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  17. galactic-vagabond422

    galactic-vagabond422 Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jul 11, 2009
    IC: Rhoen Aquilla
    Hangar, Rosa, Yavin

    Rhoen found himself pulled into a deep sleep, despite the uncomfortable posture having Lysa next to him helped ease his mind. He didn't dream just rested. At the edge of his mind he felt something dig into his side. A few more jolts into his side and his eyes snapped open with an audible "Ahh…" which he quickly silenced realizing that someone was speaking.

    "I am Banker Damask," A Munn stated looking out over the group congregated in the hangar. "and I am here to convey to you my apologies for miring Captain Argen and his crew in this mess.' The 'Banker' gestured toward a Zabrak flaked by droids, Rhoen gathered that the being was the reason he and Lysa were safe. "But I would vouch for him, if such a matter helped."

    The pilot didn't know this banker so his word that the horned humanoid was good didn't mean much but, actions spoke louder, the man had saved them, which said a lot. Damask continued talking about accounts or something, Rhoen was still a little groggy from getting woken so most of the finer points sailed over his head.

    "Before we left," Fett spoke drawing the young man's attention, "I got a fix on where Snoke jumped. It's in Wild Space, and I fed those coordinates to Argen here. "Esfandia." Rhoen furrowed his brow looking over to Lysa, mouthing the name of the planet, it seemed important but, he didn't know why.

    "Where Admiral Ackbar was heading with two of our cruisers." The aged Mon Cal captain piped up, causing the young man's eyes to widen, Ackbar was there, and two more battleships, why? He was glad they were far away from the mess that became of Yavin but, why were they ordered all the way out there?

    "Financial data will be useful when to hunt the traitors in the New Republic," General Organa-Solo said, "as a starting point of where funds came from, but that's for the future." She cast her gaze over the group, "For now we need to decide whether we are in a fit state to press the advantage. We sent a Dark Lord of the Sith packing. If we are to recapture and deprogram my son, then we need to push on. I know it's been hard for you all, but we can do it."

    He gave another look to his wingmate, they had barely survived that confrontation, he was still rattled, hands still shaking. Not to mention the damage done to his fighter, its effectiveness was significantly decreased.

    "I can give Rhoen my fighter if he's up for it," Kyp piped up, that most certainly solved one problem but, not the other, of whether or not Rhoen was fit to continue this fight. "and join the crew of the Falcon, unless Fett needs co-pilot." One of the mandos snorts, "But," the legendary pilot continued, "we're in essence going to be deciding on an A Team, which is going to be the distraction on the outside of whatever ship or installation we're going to be raiding, and the B Team, which is going in." Rhoen was defiantly part of that first group, he was a pilot not a commando, he wasn't trained as a Wraith, his place was in the flight seat of a fighter but, doubt steadily grew in his stomach. Could he handle being thrown into the fray again?

    "I would be seeking to rejoin the naval command," Genkal said after clearing his throat, "at the earliest opportunity. I am not a..." He paused as if looking for the right word. "Fighter. So I shall seek to rejoin Admiral Ackbar at Esfandia regardless of whether you choose to delve deeper into the Unknown Regions." His gaze swept over the crowd, "Any of you are welcome to join me."

    Rhoen bit the inside of his lip, he had a way out of this now, he could give in to the fear taking root in his chest. He could stay behind with command and let the others go off on their little assassination mission. However, at the thought of hunting down Snoke now that he was injured, a fire lit in the pilot. He made a promise to his pilots to make the First Order pay for what they did to Hosnian Prime, and a promise to himself to get vengeance for his mother. Now with the loss of Yavin, the flame burned hotter, the First Order had embarrassed him, made him look like a fool, a coward. He wanted so badly to repay the indignity heaped upon him.

    He felt Lysa still beside him, his hand holding on to hers, looking to her, he recalled her words as they were en route to Yavin,

    "I can't say with conscience what we are doing is right - taking out Snoke and Kylo Ren is hardly going to stop the Empire." She had her doubts from the beginning, if he made the choice to follow his vengeance, would she follow? Or would she stay behind with Genkal, washing her hands of this dirty business. He felt a stab of regret at the words he used, the absolute rage he directed at her. He apologized soon after but, the pain remained. She was right, the First Order was massive, would removing two beings really grind their advance to a halt? Did removing the Emperor and Vader end the Empire?

    The case could be made either way but, the truth was the Empire was still around even without the dark lords ruling with an iron fist.

    He was caught between two extremes, crippling fear and doubt that made him shrink away from his responsibilities as captain of Corona Squadron, and the burning rage and hate that drove him to dive deeper into the black, and darker side of warfare. This storm raged inside him as he did his best to not let his face show it.

    One thought brought a modicum of peace to his mind,

    'What does Lysa think, side was she on.' He couldn't do this alone, he needed someone by his side, someone he could trust. The only person that could be was her, Corona Seven, whatever she decided, he would listen. Though nothing had really been decided, she could still leave it up to him to make that choice. He rubbed his eyes.

    There seemed to be a lull in the conversation, Rhoen waited for a moment, then raised his hand, "Do we have any word from the Salvation? And the rest of Corona Squadron? I might like to read them in on what is decided here." He turned his head toward the Jedi pilot, "I'll take your fighter Durron, until we can maybe get mine fixed." This was his third X-wing in as many hours, it was becoming a hobby for him to be forced to change fighters every so often, if this mission continued, how many more fighters would he go thru? How close to death could he get before it finally takes him. "But, I'd like a bit of rest before I come to a final decision on anything." He said finally nodding his head. "Need some distance to…get my thoughts in order."

    TAG: Sinrebirth, Ktala, HanSolo29, Kahn_Iceay
     
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  18. Ktala

    Ktala Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2002
    Belila Gambros (Bre)
    Aboard the Millennium Falcon, wherever it was


    Bre tried to meditate, but she could only manage a few moments of it, before her mind would get distracted. She opened her eyes with a sigh. Nothing at the temple ever taught her how to deal with something like this. Her mind was too busy, even though she felt so drained. She turned, and looked over at Fred, who was busy reading the probably lengthy list of issues with the Falcon.

    "Hey Fred. See if you can contact BB-8, and find out what is going on out there, would you?" she asked him, as she leaned back against the bulkhead. She still felt weak, and really didnt want to be around a lot of other beings right now. After having used so much of the Force lately, she felt a bit over sensitized. She could swear she could feel all the beings on the surrounding vessels right now. Another sigh, as she tried to block the sensation. Several issues kept swimming around in her head as well. Of all places to be, why was Snoke there? It had to be something awful important, for him to attend to it personally. That was almost unheard of. Was it because of that other Sith that had been there? The one looking for a body?

    Then there was Ulic Qel-Droma. Over a few thousand years old? He had spoke of a rule of three, something Bre had never heard of before. Ku'ar Danar, was he the gold Sith she had seen earlier? He had seemed pretty powerful. And Snoke seemed to have no trouble taking him on. And the third being? Bre pulled out the lightsaber she had taken from the body on the ground, and looked it over. Its design was interesting. She didnt know of his name. Snoke wanted that ritual to fail. So it must have been a threat to him.And then, in the bit, where Ulic died..that strange woman had appeared out of nowhere. But she seemed to know Ulric. She stayed with him. Her words to Bre still resounding in her mind. “Our time, has come and gone. The future is in the hands of the young and the gifts, and curses we’ve left our future generations.” She had knelt down next to Ulic, placing her hand on his. “Run, and fight another day.” Another force user had been there as well, but Bre never even saw that being. The one that started the ritual. Bre slowly stood up. And then there was the bounty hunters. They were tracking Snoke. Were there to kill him. Someone had hired them. The resistance maybe? So, what was the plan now? Well, if it was up to General Leia, she might want to press the attack, after all, Snoke was on the run. But to where? Bre had no clue. And right now, Bre was literally left with no place to go. She was hoping to catch up with other Jedi. And with Snoke now threatening to chop her up into bite sized pieces, she was not too thrilled about being alone either. But she might have to leave the Falcon if Praxon didnt want her there. And Genkal. He had seen her change. So most likely the others knew as well. So much uncertainty and unknown. But, like she thought earlier, as least she didnt wake up in a jail cell. So that was worth something.

    Her stomach growled loudly, which kind of shocked Bre. She then gave a slow smile. It had been quite a while since she had eaten a decent meal. Maybe some food would lighten her mood. Bre took the time she had alone, to change clothing. A shower she would have to find later, but she didnt need to look like, well, to look like she had just been blown up! She quickly changed. Once she could determine if Fred could tell her any news, that she decided to venture out. Bre pulled a pair of goggles over her eyes, and checked on he speeder bike. "Oh Force..." Bre uttered softly as she looked over her bike. It would need some TLC as well. Bre gave it a soft pat, as she righted back up, and parked it to the side, tying it down. Yes, there would be much to do. Bre quickly realized that the ramp was not down..which mean the ship was docked to something. So she followed Fred as they moved towards the lower docking ring.

    Bre dropped down on a gang plank of the strange ship. She didnt see or feel anything wrong. Bre could see in the distance, a group of beings, but they appeared to be breaking up. There was also a very strange ship sitting in this large area, with many other ships here as well. Bre frowned as she stared at it. She didnt recognize its type at all. Bre stayed hidden, up on the catwalk, as she watched what was going on, and how the other beings moved about. Fred had wedged himself right next to her. A bit too overprotective perhaps. But Bre welcomed it, it made her smile. She was pretty sure poor Fred didnt know how to interpret her recent strange behavior.

    Bre sat quietly, crouched down, while she watched activities from afar. It was still too soon, to interact with all these people.




    TAG: Sinrebirth, galactic-vagabond422, HanSolo29, Kahn_Iceay
     
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  19. Kahn_Iceay

    Kahn_Iceay Jedi Master star 5

    Registered:
    Mar 5, 2006
    IC: Argen
    Rosa, Hyperspace

    Argen for a time sat quietly, listening to the conversations going back and forth between the others and for a time it felt, right. Years ago he’d been part of the Rebellion, not a big part mind you, but a part. These conversations, these planning sessions, everybody gathered at some random place to share information, thoughts, plans.

    “If I may.” Argen said raising a hand, “First I’d like to say it’s good to see you Generals.” He obviously was meaning Han Solo and Leia Organa. “I doubt you remember me, the Alliance was a big place, but I certainly remember you. Second, as I mentioned in my brief transmission earlier I had been shadowing the Imperial Taskforce I came out in front of for some time.”

    “In addition to a lot of data on the fleet my ship intercepted a lot of transmissions, long range transmissions, which perplexes me as the Holonet has been down for weeks. Either the Empire has a way of bypassing the Holonet, or they’re behind it. But that’s not important right now. What is are those transmissions. I’m no decryption specialist, and my crew has been rather busy with keeping the ship running, so I have not been able to task them with it, however.”

    He motioned at the Damask, “If the data my friend here is of any indication it’s clear the First Order has been preparing for this for some time. What’s more they’ve been doing a very good job of hiding their tracks. So if they’re making long range transmissions on a network that we normally can’t detect without being on their tails, there’s probably information in them that might be of use. We might even hope to find what we’re riding into.”

    Tapping a button in his wrist comm a hologram filtered down from the ceiling, showing various garbled transmissions, and data. “I’ve an Astromech, and I see you’ve one as well. They’re notorious for their ability to overcome the odds in times of need. While we still have some time, I might ask that we task them with sifting through the data, we might find ourselves with an advantage if we do.”

    Tag: @galactic-vagabond422 Ktala HanSolo29 Mitth_Fisto Sinrebirth and anyone I may have missed

    Meanwhile….

    The path to Cold Station Six was not a direct one. Zig Zagging hyperspace jumps, often with some back tracking or even jumping in the wrong direction was the standard procedure, and while following SOP was not something Nial generally did, in this case he took exception. That meant downtime.

    Crews were working to re-enforce the power conduits to the secondary shield systems, while field reports were coming in from the two Republic-class cruisers they had taken, both staying close enough in Hyperspace for communications to actually work. Their systems would take days to repair, their shields were only half working, main weapons had been fried in the fighting, captain of one tried to take out the bridge with a Thermal Detonator, Nial would give the bastard that. He’d been dedicated.

    But they didn’t need to be ready to fight, they needed to be used as transports.

    “What are you planning?” It was Captain Nereda, standing at the front of his desk with a large thermos of caf and a cup. “I know you, you’ve got a plan, you might have been some reckless rebel in the Rebellion but you didn’t get to be General by being stupid, Sir. So as you XO, I have to ask, what is your plan?”

    The general looked up, his cybernetic eye scanning the Faleen for a moment. Nereda, had served with him in the Vong war, her record wasn’t clean, but it was legitimate. The Republic Office of Naval Intelligence was always thorough when they chose people to work within Special Operations and the Strike Troopers. He knew she could be trusted, but then again, everyone on his ship could be trusted. “Well, seeing as the secret will come out soon anyway, my plan, is Project: Razelighter.”

    “Razelighter Sir? As in the Director General?”

    “Named after him,” Nial stood up pulling a fresh Cigaara and lit it before taking a long draw. “See, back at the end of the war we realized how soft we’d gotten. Nobody disagreed with Mon Mothma’s sentiment about how we should be better than the Empire, but a lot of us at the start disagreed with the levels she took it. The war showed us that.”

    “Back in the Rebellion, we took losses, but nothing like this war. Our tactics were still good, we just couldn’t follow them right. We lacked the resources, the man power, the war machines. So General Razelighter, and a few others, myself included, decided to do something about it. Thus Project: Razelighter was born.”

    “A new training regimen? Back up forces?” The officer at this point had taken a step back, she didn’t often mind the General’s smoking, but sometimes it overwhelmed her, downside of a species that used pheromones, one had to suppose.

    “That and more.” The General sighed and put the cigaara out, he’d smoke it later. “General Elysin’s been overseeing the training of seven Regiments, fourteen thousand special operations forces. I know I know, officially there’s only two regiments there, one for training, one for defense. Never trust records. Those forces are intended for the second half of Project: Razelighter. Five purpose built Star Destroyers, weapons platforms, pure and simple. No fancy additions. Crew quarters, weapons, engines, shields, hull. Pure dedicated war machines.”

    The General turned back to the Captain. “By the time this is done, we’re going to take those ships, and we’re going to make every single Imperial Bastard who decided to venture back out from the Unknown Regions wish they were never born.”
     
  20. Darth_wanderguard

    Darth_wanderguard Game Host star 6 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Apr 26, 2005
    IC: Kodo Prine

    Vos' voice was gentle as he drew Kodo into another realm. This was not the physical plane, nor was it the shadow world in which the young Kel Dor had briefly crossed blades with Plagueis. This was inner space - the vast expanse of Kodo's mind. Laid against the backdrop was the outline of his surroundings on the ship, a faint apparition of the physical world, gray and hazy as if behind tracing paper. He could see through it and past it, and found that the longer he gazed the farther his vision and awareness stretched into an endless landscape of empty white.

    At last he blinked, and all at once returned to himself like a stretched spring released to coil itself back into place, and he was suddenly aware of Quinlan Vos pacing behind him. He stood, calmly, and faced the man with an inquisitive look.

    "My darkness," Vos turned to gray, his hair was inked black and his eyes sparkled with gold. "I apprenticed to Darth Tyranus in an effort to discover the identity of the Second Sith. I failed, and I fell to the dark side. Or so I suggested. I started as double agent, and then became triple, and then again and again, turning myself inside out until I had in-fact, fell. I pulled myself back from that brink, with the help of my friends and... A woman, a woman who I fell for on my fall into the darkness. Her death sobered me, drove me to find my way back to my now wife, and I found my solace and faced down Order 66 and survived." The grey and black and gold receded, and for a moment in Vos place stood a woman, with long pink-purple hair, and a baby swathed in a protective blanket.

    "I passed my true Trial. In many ways, the Jedi Order's arrogance came from the fact that it judged itself too lightly when it came to personal darkness. Many Jedi did not wrestle with it, did not face the mirror and passed the Trial. Rigid control replaced inner peace, and an adherence to the rules became more important than right over might."


    Shortly in the distance, a dark smudge took shape into the likeness of Kodo himself. Inked with splotches of black, and marred by a scar which ran the length of his face. With an anxious huff, Kodo realized that it was his own self-perception which now stared back at him. Quinlan Vos' voice broke the silence again. "The most balanced Jedi are those who have truly faced their personal darkness and triumphed. Sometimes the greater the Jedi, the more of these trials they will face. Your Luke Skywalker faced it many times over. With the redemption of his father, with his dabbling at the hands of the Emperor, with his wife's illness, with the death of..." Vos's face frowned. "No, not that."

    "The death of who...?" Kodo asked numbly as his eyes remained fixed on his facsimile. Vos paid his question no mind. "You focus upon the negatives, but you do not see this," Vos gestured, and Kodo could see clear through to the beating heart of the simulacrum. Pure and unsoiled. "You are a strong soul, and have excised much of your personal darkness from yourself. But doubts undermine you, nibbling at you," he cast a hand at the black patches. "Because of your mental scar; your missing memory."

    With a wave of Vos' hand, the tar-like imperfections were pulled away, and floated before them as an amorphous, softly writhing black mass. "I can attempt to remove it, with your consent. It will either permanently remove the memory, and the attached fear, as you will be unable to worry about it... Or it will reveal what is hidden, and all that flows from there."

    Kodo shut his eyes tightly for a moment, and opened them to stare for a long moment at his traumas. "I should prefer the latter, if the choice were put to me," he said. "For better or worse, I must know the truth. I must know what thing I have done, if I have done something terrible."

    TAG: Sinrebirth
     
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  21. Lady Belligerent

    Lady Belligerent • WNU Adoptions Coordinator• star 7 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Jan 29, 2008
    IC: Jaina Solo
    Ravager in Unknown Regions

    Once aboard the train car she checked all cabinets and compartments. She found a blaster, that she pocketed, then checked out the food available. Her head was still aching, so she didn't feel much like eating, but she knew she had to take in some nutrition to face off against her brother.

    Brother. That made her think of Jacen, she'd felt him through their bond since he'd contacted her. It was a bit unnerving, having that connection open again, and she was hesitant to acknowledge him there. But now he was urging her to be careful.

    She sighed, and rubbed her aching temples. "Careful? Easy to say when you're not being jumped by crazy Sith and gangs of troopers with flamethrowers at every turn," Jaina grumbled.

    Then there was this other presence, the one trying to press in on her conscious. Did she risk trying to find out who it was? Or was it a trick and they were trying to locate her...

    Deciding to take Cappie's suggestion, she curled up across two seats and closed her eyes. "I'm not going to sleep, I'll just rest my eyes," she told him as the train glided along.

    The pressure in her head did feel a bit better as she had started to relax, her breathing was slower and deeper, 'but, I'm not going to sleep...' Maybe she was drifting off, and certainly could use the rest because she'd been on the run and fighting since she'd landed on this stupid ship.

    'Who are you? What do you want from me?'

    Tag: Sinrebirth
     
  22. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 Manager Emeritus + Official Star Wars Artist star 7 VIP - Former Mod/RSA

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    IC: ‘Han Solo’ (Duke Praxon)
    Aboard the Rosa

    ‘Han’s forward motion was halted by the appearance of a rather affluent Munn and his retinue. He stared for a long moment, his mouth turning downward into a disappointing scowl as he realized that this must be the owner of the fancy ship. Out of habit, his hand instinctively fell to his side to rest upon the butt of his blaster. After their close call with Snoke, he had developed a sort of cynicism when it came to dealing with Munns; he wasn’t about to take any chances.

    It was only after the man started speaking and introduced himself and his current company, that ‘Han’ began to loosen up a bit. His eyes flitted to each member of the small group as the conversation began, his gaze lingering a bit on the man revealed to be Captain Argen. It wasn’t meant to scrutinize, but rather, it was borne out of curiosity…and maybe even held a hint of admiration. Despite the dangers to his operation, this man had stuck out his neck and revealed himself to the First Order by offering them sanctuary. ‘Han’ decided that Argen was either a tactical genius and had a long-term plan for his involvement, or he was a fool asking for punishment. While it was too early to determine which path he would ultimately follow, one thing was for certain – he was a target now.

    The impromptu meeting quickly moved on to other pressing matters with Leia leading the charge. For the most part, ‘Han’ remained silent and simply observed the proceedings with his arms crossed firmly over his chest. It wasn’t until Leia mentioned Ben Solo and the fundamental mission to bring him home that he started to become uneasy. He shifted his weight and dipped his chin so that his gaze was focused on the deckplates around his feet. Surviving an encounter with Snoke seemed like a piece of cake compared to the inevitable meeting with Leia’s wayward son.

    A distraction. That was the word Leia had used during the briefing at the onset of the mission. He was to be nothing more than a distraction. That sounded as if they expected him to willfully offer himself up to be slaughtered at the hands of that maniac. ‘Han’ clenched his jaw at the thought, refusing to believe that the Resistance could suggest something so callous.

    A slight nudge to the arm broke him free of his malignant thoughts, and he blinked, turning to look at the source of the abrasion. Wyn was standing to his right, wagging her eyebrows at him with expectation. What was she…?

    That’s when he realized that Argen was now speaking, conjuring up some sort of plan for hunting down Snoke using intercepted transmissions and astromechs. ‘Han’ narrowed his eyes. Intercepted transmissions, huh?

    He exchanged a knowing look with Wyn and smiled slightly, confirming that he had caught on to her suggestion. If he was going to prove that he was more than a distraction – that Solo was more than a distraction, then he would need to start contributing positively to this little witch hunt. Jaina Solo’s message certainly had the kind of sway he was looking for.

    “I might have something more direct,” he announced as he cleared his throat, maintaining his casual stance as he addressed the group. “It likely won’t contain all the techno babble you’re looking for, but it might give us a location. Beyond Esfandia, I mean.” His eyes rested momentarily on Leia, an almost sheepish look evident in his gaze as he silently pleaded with her to forgive him for not revealing this news to her earlier. The truth was, he had every intention on filling her in, it’s just that he never found the right opportunity between dealing with unruly Sith Lords and dodging TIE fighters.

    “Before all hell broke loose around Yavin, I received an encrypted message from my daughter out in the Unknown Regions. She was out there on some personal Jedi fact-finding pilgrimage or…whatever…” he stammered and trailed off, obviously not completely understanding her intentions. He purposely left out the detail about the faux Jagged Fel and the scuffle that followed; it hit a little too close to the mark of his own unique situation. With a wave of his hand, he continued.

    “Anyway, something must’ve fried her nav computer when she jumped to lightspeed. Instead of arriving at Yavin to help us, she ended up deeper in the Unknown Regions. The message was vague, but I’m pretty sure her last location is along the same trajectory as Esfandia.” He pointed toward Argen. “If you wanna put your droids on that to check my math, have at it. I have the coordinates on the Falcon.

    “But things get a little more interesting beyond that. She also mentioned that she was gonna check out a Star Destroyer in the area.” He cocked a brow as he studied the others, almost amused. “Now, what the hell is a Star Destroyer doing all the way out there in the middle of nowhere? Something tells me it’s not to enjoy the view.”

    TAG: Kahn_Iceay; Sinrebirth; galactic-vagabond422; Ktala
     
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  23. Kahn_Iceay

    Kahn_Iceay Jedi Master star 5

    Registered:
    Mar 5, 2006
    Joint post with Sinre


    IC: Vincent Mikaru
    Invective, Observation lounge
    System AMP-3765990-A "Gehenna Base"

    “No,” He shook his head at the man’s offer, and continued to gaze out of the window into the dancing specks of asteroids as the fleet moved slowly towards what had, up till now, been a clandestine operational base. “My family line, predates that conflict. It occurred after the Galactic Cold War yes? We don’t know many details, but my family has records of some being involved, though the specifics are, not told.” He let out a breath, “No, Revan was our Emperor to fight first. Morganus the Banished, broke ties with family, and clan to fight against the Mandalorians, and then Revan, in the wake of those wars he formed our family.”

    Aden frowned. 'I see. My family tree runs through Naboo and Serenno. Less recent.'

    That was honesty. Aden's frown deepened. They continued to walk. 'So you predate it.' He inclined a head. 'On the Echani side?'

    'Kallig...' Aden tapped his chin, speaking to the air. 'The Jensaarai do not forbid the study of the ancient Sith, and as such I can recall that the Kallig was a Sith slave name for three millennia. Before that, however, it was a name that made its mark in the Exiles War - the war which the Sith that initially left the Caldera waged after a year of consolidation. Dreypa began it, and Tulak Hord continued it.' He gestured to Mikaru. 'However, it was during the second of the Great Galactic Wars that the name became synonymous with a prominent member of the Dark Council... And then with the Alliance against the Eternal Empire...'

    Aden's eyes widened and he looked at Mikaru in surprise. 'And then it became synonymous with that of the Outlanders and their philosophies that surpassed light and dark...'

    "And Imperious was an Outlander, that I can recall clearly, she even said it." Their path took them to a turbolift, that began its slow descent towards their destination. "The Outlander's, the old Sith, and the Jedi coming together... it seems rather familiar doesn't it?" He leaned against the wall of the lift, trying to get a moment's respite. "A few years ago the Remnant and the Republic allied to fight a greater threat and won, just now forces came together to fight another, and won. It is said, that those who fail to learn history, are doomed to repeat it. But the Echani also say, those who fail to learn history correctly are simply doomed. I believe, as you suggested, that it might be worth looking into some family history. Probably even more."

    Aden smiled freely. 'Is there room on your voyage for a guide, through the land of the dead?' He was referencing a poem from Corellia, which made mention of Nine Corellian Hells. 'Do you need a Vergere?'

    The smile became sly.

    Callista didn't like it.

    "There is room, though less for a guide than a fellow traveler. You used me, and that is not easily forgiven. You live, because I haven't let my body guard here give in to her desire to snap your neck." The lift came to a halt and opened up to the hangar level. "And because while the Enemy of my Enemy is still my Enemy, they are a useful asset none the less." He gave the man a glance, "That was Yusanis' teachings anyway. You've some way to go before I trust you, Aden. If that is even possible."

    Aden bowed over his hand. 'Then I shall endeavor to prove more useful dead than alive for as long as possible.' The Jensaarai shrugged. 'It's a war. I will do what have to, if it means winning.'

    "A wise decision." He continued forward, with something of a purpose, even if he didn't know it yet. "For the moment we need to get the Republic ship refueled and unburdened, and then go our own little ways. I must return to Eshan, to gather anything I may need for this little journey, but first, I must have words with a Jedi Master."

    Aden's face grew neutral. 'Oh yes, the Jedi Order. Which committed suicide and disbanded. How much help do you expect to receive?' Kyle Katarn was sitting on the hangar floor, eyes closed, meditating, breathing in and out the negative influences of Darth Plagueis.

    As they approached, he spoke. 'I let Kodo go.'

    "Oh I'm aware." The Echani replied, with a bit of venom in his voice. "I think maybe, Kyle, I should expand upon something I said at Eshan." A hologram of Vincent appeared closer to the Jedi, arms crossed. "This is my seat of power." The Hologram spoke, not Vincent, but then his voice boomed through the hangar intercomm. "Here, on the confines of this ship. I am all seeing, all knowing." The hologram shifted, faded away, and Vincent took one final step forward, his foot clapping against the deck as gravity shifted to Eshan standard. "So I saw it all, how in your padawan's time of need, when he was at his weakest, his most vulnerable. You did not let him go, you abandoned him." He motioned at the Crow, "All because of the crazed conclusion jumping of a woman who claims to love you but has as much understanding of the Force as you do in the art of making Bith souffles. Kodo Prine saved us all. He put his entire being on the line to distract Snoke so we could be saved, and in his last actions in that Shadow World he threw himself upon you, to protect you from harm. And you abandoned him."

    Kyle opened his eyes. 'I know.'

    'I am beyond excuse.' His face grew neutral. 'But I needed to keep him away from you.' Aden's eyes blinked in surprise.

    'He's on a path to find himself.' The Jedi Master stood. 'And you are on a path of 'I did the right thing for the maximum number of people'.' The man folded his arms. 'Kodo will get over it. Will you?'

    Katarn did not even acknowledge Aden. He just glared at Vincent Mikaru. 'Go on. Give me an Echani platitude to justify your actions, your apparent embrace of your Sith heritage.'

    Aden felt the gravity increase and winced, winded, but Kyle simply went down to one knee, as he glared. 'I am a Jedi Master, I shall not be intimidated by a Sith.'

    "Luke Skywalker killed hundreds of thousands of people when he destroyed the Death Star, an act you were compliant in in your help to retrieve those plans. Do you accept that heritage, as part of doing the right thing for the maximum number of people, or are you a hypocrite where it only applies to your view of what is good, and what is just? Her name was Nereza, and she was a slave, born into slavery because of the actions of your Order's ancestors. And she saved you, she saved this Galaxy, more than once. She put aside her Sith heritage, every single aspect of her upbringing and training that told her that people like you, and the Republic were the enemy, to unite with them to save the Galaxy. To do the right thing, for the maximum number of people, despite herself, who are you to judge?"

    'I judge the use of the Force to dominate. To control. To rule. You are constantly acquiring power over others. That had nothing to do with 'uniting the galaxy'. It was purely about you killing people.'

    Aden Kya stepped to Vincent's side as Kyle stood, slowly, his hands clear away from his weapon but bunched into fists. 'He does not understand, Vincent. He's a Jedi.'

    "Like Skywalker killed people. You don't get it Kyle, what difference was there in using the Force to send a Proton Torpedo down a tube to blow up some Imperials to save a Rebellion and using the Force to save a Fleet? The difference of course is a Jedi did one and I did the other. I have no patience for hypocrites and bigots. I know Jedi. My closest and most trusted friend is a Jedi." He thrust an accusing finger out at Kyle. "You are no Jedi, you are a bitter and broken man, who failed to achieve what he set out to do, and has now taken to lashing out at others in order to make himself feel better. You abandon the people who need you. You abandoned Kodo, you abandoned the Order, but it's always someone else fault. If me being descended from a Sith burdens you so, then draw your lightsaber, since anger and violence seem to be all you know."

    Kyle held out his hands, open, now he had ascertained his stance against the gravity. 'I need not do that. A Sith is self-defeating, and you shall see it. I do not have the right to kill you at this point, I have the duty to simply point out the path you are going down.' Kyle smiled softly. 'It is not the Jedi to make decisions for people; it is their way to stand in the way of evil. When you need me to do that, I shall.'

    'If you are done, I would take my leave.'

    "And again, you aren't a Jedi. Get off my ship, I wouldn't try and recall the system we're in on your navigational computer, it'll end badly for you." Vincent turned and walked away, snapping a finger as gravity returned to normal. "Callista, have the station begin refueling operations, i want every ship except the Dominator outbound within an hour, and keep the Admiral off that ship."

    Kyle Katarn bowed. 'Thank you, Vincent. I shall heed your warning.' He turned to leave.

    Aden watched him go, releasing a breath he hadn't realized he was holding once gravity equalized. 'Is it wise to let him go? He's dangerous. He's already clearly stated he is going to get in our way later.' The Jensaarai paused. 'I'm not suggesting you kill him, absolutely not. Just... Keep him here.' The man shrugged. 'Either way, it's your empire.'

    "I am no Emperor, no tyrant, and no Sith." Vincent stepped back into the lift and let it seal once Aden and Callista had joined him. "If I am anything it seems I am a living legacy. I was born to uphold tradition, I always thought that regardless of my aspirations I would one day claim the title of Sovereign." He held out a hand, and Callista produced a datapad that Vincent began to type up orders on. "Send a message to our station at Eshan, tell them to prepare the Ascendant Pride and to inform the family curator that I will be visiting the Legacy when we return." He handed the datapad back and the young woman nodded. "It would seem, Aden Kya, that before I am to take the title as a leader among my people, I am to be an Outlander. And if that is my destiny, so be it."

    Aden smiled broadly, completely and warmly. 'Excellent. Well, I am more than happy to assist. Chandrila is a responsibility that I wanted to attend to but the Saarai-kaar was more concerned about our datachip falling into the wrong hands.'

    Aden nodded to himself. 'The same logic applies to whatever exists in the depths of the Braesenthor's tomb...' Again that tapping of his chin as he thought aloud.

    "If anything is actually there." Part of him was skeptical but there had been stranger things to happen in the past. "Regardless we must hurry. Once we return to Eshan I will leave you in the care of Callista for a time, she won't kill you unless you give her a reason. I will take only the time needed to go through the records at the Museum. After that, we should be on our way, if there is a dig going on at Chandrila, then we should try to get there soon, I fear we may find dignitaries and bureaucrats are not the best archaeologists."

    Aden gave Callista a look. 'I still have bruises from the last time I fell out with this lady.' He snorted. 'Let's not do that again.'

    Aden waved at Vincent to go. 'I shall be good. The chip got into the right hands, I was simply unsure that it was yours.'

    'Enjoy the Museum. I shall be waiting for you. Maybe I'll keep an eye on the Mon Calamari Iceberg.'

    Tag: Sinrebirth
     
  24. Halle Dray

    Halle Dray Jedi Master star 4

    Registered:
    Jan 6, 2016
    IC: Sava Boutros
    Battle of Ord Mantel

    She was still stinging from Hidax's comment about her being "Han Solo". It wasn't her fault that one of those blasted Mandos had grabbed her arms and pulled them behind her. She had been lucky to escape his grasp before the other Mando had shot her. Hidax should just realize it took team work to fight. He was being a karking sleemo because he was embarrassed that she had a rank and he didn't. Sava scolded herself for her language even though it was in her head. Phasma told her then to cover the plaza while Hidax covered the stairs. Suddenly, a roar shattered the air and several Mandos hopped out with ignited rocket launchers. Groaning, Boutros closed her eyes briefly. Then, Phasma looked at them all and set the explosives to detonate in three minutes with an order, "Charge".
    Charge. Charge? CHARGE???!!! They would definitely die if they charged. They needed to get out of the vicinity if they were going to set off the charges. However, Phasma was a higher rank than her so Sava must obey her. Nodding, she ran at the Mandos, shooting her pistols as she ran. Face to face with one, she elbowed his jaw as he tried to grab her. She then shot him on his way down to the ground. Then she continued her charge.

    Tags: Darth_wanderguard Sinrebirth
     
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  25. Darth_wanderguard

    Darth_wanderguard Game Host star 6 VIP - Game Host

    Registered:
    Apr 26, 2005
    IC: Bruturus Hidax -- Ord Mantell

    He didn't need the force to see the tension in Private Boutros after the admonishing he had directed at her. It was perhaps a valid criticism, but no doubt inappropriate given the rank dynamics at play. Mentally swatting at himself for his lack of discipline; 'Remember you're just Hidax now,' he thought. All the same, there was no place for hurt feelings on the battlefield and he wouldn't apologize as long as they were under fire - the Private would get over it soon enough.

    The charges were set, and Phasma was doling out orders when the sound of seven jetpacks triggered simultaneously. And for each jetpack, a Mandalorian was now waiting in the cover that he and Boutros had utilized before.

    Phasma triggered the charges, and in three minutes the plaza would go up like a thousand Imperial Day celebrations. There was no other path but to plunge directly into the belly of the waiting Mandalorians.

    "Charge," came the order he expected from Phasma, even and calm. Hidax clapped Boutros on the back as if to jumpstart her, and kicked off into a nimble run with riot shield and stun baton in hand.

    Letting Sava and Phasma take blaster sponge duty, he peeled off slightly to the right as the women charged straight on, dashed up a steep tree-shrouded embankment, and flanked the Mandalorians. Emerging from the bushes, he felled one quickly with a greave to the side of the knee, bending the limb grossly with a crunch, and he slammed his baton downward to finish the injured guerrilla. Five remaining. He took a pair of shots to the shield from one of the Mandalorians who was more coherent, though the majority were scrambling now from the unexpected two-pronged assault. The shots punched through the shield, but it had done its job enough that his arm plate was singed and his arm wasn't. He pushed forward in a crouch and exploded upward with his shield, disorienting the Mandalorian before coming across with his baton to catch him at chin level, hurling him to the ground and out of the fight.

    TAG: Halle Dray, Sinrebirth
     
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