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  1. Sinrebirth SWC and EUC Forum Moderator

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    Nov 15, 2004
    star 7
    IC: Borga
    Eclipse, Deep Core 27 ABY

    Anakin's was as rooted in him being a teen as it was to him being right. And so, when Han went to say something and Leia stopped him, guiding Han to look at her brother, Luke smiled, tightly. 'Of course there is. But with all the volunteers you have,' he cast his gaze over the large group of Jedi who had thrown their focus into the Voxyn hunt, if only to cope with the Talfaglio situation, seventeen Jedi Knights and the more highly skilled Padawans in all, nearly a third of the Order in that little group, not all in accord, but all focused on solving the problem. '-we're at over-stretch with all three issues and the Talfaglio problem and this disaster are issues for the galaxy, not just us, and the Voxyn project is targeted at us.'

    Mara, joining the conversation with Lando, having been brought upto speed by Karrde, shifted Ben in her arms and scowled, lightly, so her baby would not wake and pick up on her mood. 'With that logic we should have taken on Isard and ignored Vader, Farmboy.'

    Luke gave Mara an inscrutable look, at least for Borga. 'Fine, we can't leave the Voxyn problem behind.'

    'That would be a mistake, Master Skywalker,' said Tenel Ka in her atypically blunt manner. 'We must divide.'

    The Bith Ulaha noted, disagreeing. 'Any less than the Jedi we have would not have the same success rate. Any more experienced and of greater notoriety and the Yuuzhan Vong won't allow us through the borders in a state we can manage.'

    'So what, we ignore the anomalies consuming the galaxy?' Jacen added, unhappily.

    'No, but we can only fight so many battles at once. The Voxyn mission is one of committal. We'll be out of action for weeks.' Tahiri responded, short also.

    'And a jaunt into the Unknown Regions won't?' Han added, and Leia placed a hand on his hand, willing him to be silent and allow the younger Jedi to work through the problem.

    'Why don't we rush the Talfaglio blockade and then split. That's a short term problem that won't require much dedication,' said Ganner.

    'We're not ready to take on a fleet yet,' said Jaina. 'Six squadrons can't take out all those ships and save refugees.'

    'So what? Currently we have thirty-odd Jedi pilots before you count us, assuming Kyp plays ball,' Ganner added the latter sourly.

    Even Tahiri could follow this. 'Do we put more Jedi into the wing of fighters we have, and rush Talfaglio, and then do what with the dozen and half non-Jedi pilot veterans we have? We need to dedicate them correctly.'

    Talon spoke up. 'I could throw some more ships into the mix, and I expect Borga could too.' He indicated the Hutt who simply shrugged, to the disapproval of the smuggler kingpin. 'If we made it worth her effort, of course.'

    'What is your plan, Master Skywalker? Surely you have one?'

    Luke eyed Anakin, as much as Leia had earlier. 'I have my thoughts but I'm not going to impose them on you. Someone needs to check the Unknown Regions for the signal, and we need to go to Mykyr, and we need to deal with the blockade at Talfaglio.'

    'Anakin, you know our resources; Hutt and smuggler freighters-turned-frigates, seventh X-wings, nearly sixty Jedi available, and nearly forty veterans of the war with the Empire. Friends in the Senate and military, but a reducing number. It this anomaly gets out of hand and is a weapon, we're going to have a Republic crumbling on our hands. If we leave the Voxyn we're going to have less resources in the short term but we'll be killed off. And lastly we have a blockade which could turn what few allies we have left against us.'

    Luke's look became piercing, going through him and beyond. 'Your friends will follow your lead, not just mine. You have shown the way in fighting this war.' His head lifted slightly. 'You and Jacen and Jaina both. But as the leader of this team you need to make a decision as to where best it be applied.'

    'This isn't the lightsaber swashbuckling you may have expected when you signed on,' he allowed himself a small smile. 'But it is important. And without this you will put yourself and more importantly your friends in danger.'

    'So tell me what you think we should do, and we'll take it from there.'

    Luke was solemn, because he knew Anakin was taking on a lot of responsibility. But the teenager had became the heart of his generation, while Jaina had became it's mind and Jacen it's conscience. It was Anakin who had defeated the demons of his youth and his name; ir was Anakin who had risen above Chewbacca's death; it was Anakin that had redeemed a Yuuzhan Vong. This war was their generations war. They needed to be the ones who took the initiative if they were ever to take on the torch.

    Han could not have been prouder of his son right now, even if he was afraid for his children. This shouldn't be their fight but it was beyond their control. He just had to have faith in them, because they were Jedi.

    And this is what Jedi did; they saved the galaxy.

    @HanSolo29
    ---
    IC: Maal Lah
    Near Arkanis, deep space 30 ABY

    Supreme Commander Maal Lah snarled as three XJ3's arrived in system, requiring him to divide forces he had intended to keep aside for Pellaeon's shuttle if it jumped. Spores had been placed on the shuttle so he would be able to catch and overtake them, as long as he didn't need to pick up his coralskippers. Now he had been required to make a stand here and use all the resources he had.

    Ordinarily he would have been more confident against three X-wings, one TIE Defender and a simple shuttle, but his forces were on the last of their resources and fuel, undercrewed and on the edge of believing that their gods had really abandoned them.

    Which was why he had intended to strike a blow to the infidels by killing one of their greatest heroes. He had only gone along with this plan on that basis. He stroked the relevant villip, and scowled. 'This is not what we agreed, you guaranteed a simple hit, that it would rally our kind.'

    The villip showed a shadowed face, a faceless mask, which suggested that the Yuuzhan Vong shown was one of the members of Domain Shai who enjoyed their ceremonial masks, but Lah could not know for certain. What he did know is that this shadowy contact had all the relevant authorities of the Supreme Overlord, and the yammosks corroborated it.

    'It will, if you succeed.'

    Maal Lah felt the intensity of the Supreme Overlords gaze upon him, almost as if he was in the presence of Shimmra himself, and Maal Lah knew not to doubt his leader here.

    He slapped a fist to his shoulder in salute. 'It will be done!'
    ---

    Miat Temm hadn't expected Gilad to be quite so cool after she's told him about the message from his dead son, but he was an Imperial, and Imperials did not allow their emotions to get the better of them.

    And so to the business of survival.

    While Miat transmitted to Fleet Command, Vitor Reige ran interference as the Coralskippers approached, but the frigate also began to roll, looking to bring itself back within weapons range as she ponderously turned the shuttle. Before the nose swung about she tapped the forward firing weapons, the sudden act, coupled with a distraction shower of weaponry from Reige, catching a skip unaware and rendering it to so much space dust. Progress.

    Two thirds of the way through the turn, a skip reached range and hit them, the plasma ball connecting and the heavy shields buckling. The shuttle kicked up like a beast of burden, and Miat scowled, speaking into the open channel. 'Apologies, sir.'

    She goosed the throttles, increasing the parabola of the turn but breaking the weapons lock, a the skip turned to the shuttles rear, allowing Miat to open fire with the rear weapons remotely. A bolt flashed out and a void gulped it down, but the skip slowed for a moment. Wincing, Miat spoke up. 'Might I trouble you Admiral to take the rear weaponry controls? Remotely they aren't up to the task of distracting the void. There are stutter-fire settings so you can cut across.'

    Reige for his part reached for the frigate, popping a concussion missile of at the hull, while strafing it with stutterfire around plasma balls. The frigate took it all, before being overtaxed and allowing stutterfire through. Noting the moment, he triggered an ion bolt which caught the frigate perfectly, incapacitating a plasma launcher and whirling away, all the while pursued by one skip, a truly Imperial display of piloting.

    Sensors chimed with more contacts as they neared the frigate, and she saw the rest of skip squadron, eight in all, engaging three XJ3's, both Masters Skywalker and a Jedi she did not recognise. Miat promptly diverted it to the rear data display and to the sensor board attached to the rear laser. 'Three X-wings en route, sir, including Masters Skywalker. I have a channel open, should you require it.'

    Miat allowed herself a moment to calculate trajectories, and then noted the first skip was taking a wider turn so it could catch the shuttle in a crossfire with it's colleague harassing their rear. Shields could probably survive another pass... If she threw all discretionary power to the front of the shuttle and exposed the rear to fire.

    Miat only hoped that the Admiral was able to take out the rear skip in time.

    Tam felt Mara Jade Skywalker's emotions ripple through the Force, let alone the meld they unconsciously shared. He was ill placed to offer comfort to her, his own father still missing after the war, but he did what he could, opting to focus on the mission at hand as his way of making amends.

    Opening up his throttles and passing Luke's XJ3, he reached for Mara and opened fire, hoping she would still coordinate so they overtax the lead skip of the eight and take it down. His R9 unit chimed with sensor contacts as they closed with the frigate, now rolling away and slowly, as if being attacked. He cast a glance at the display as he allowed the Force to weave around plasma balls, seeing the Imperial shuttle flying Pellaeon's insignia and the lone TIE Defender, taking on four skips, suddenly, three, and buzzing the frigate.

    Tam passed it out of his mind, and then a thought struck him as he unconsciously slowed to avoid a plasma ball and nearly backed into Luke's X-wing, still sailing forward. 'R9, while we're close, interrogate Master Skywalkers fighter craft. Without Artoo you should be able remotely access it - have it open fire with all torpedoes, all forward.'

    A tweedle, and Tam pulled back, shielding Luke's X-wing with his own shields for a moment which felt like forever as he juked to present a moving target and lost track of Mara in his concentration, finger never leaving the firing pin but remaining within range. A handful of seconds that may well have been an eternity follows the R9 chimed with success and nine torpedoes shot out and Tam goosed forward, following the torpedoes and nudging them with the Force into wider trajectories, firing into the dispersing skip formation which now had a lot more to worry about than two fighters. While the voids were occupied with torpedoes he targeted as many as he could, but hoped Mara had intuited his plan...

    ... And then he saw Luke's fighter wink out from the sensor display and winced.

    That was going to hit home hard. He hoped Mara was still in this, he didn't rate his chances very high if she bugged out.

    @Imperial Hammer, @Skywalker_T-65
    ---
    IC: Mara Jade
    Kavan surface

    Mara felt it, and didn't believe it. Luke was gone. Leia too. She couldn't even cry, her shock was too permanent. They had vanished from the Force in a more permanent and terrifying way than even Ben and his experiments with making himself invisible, courtesy of Jacen's Sith teachings.

    That's how they get you. Hand out lessons like rare baubles, entice you with power and then pull it from under you when they don't need you anymore... Never teaching you everything, always maintaining an advantage somewhere, somehow.

    It didn't matter. All that mattered was killing Jacen. Once and for all. Initially, she had intended to draw him into prolonged battle, to take advantage of the ruins she had detected as she went down, but now, it all seemed a little moot. Ben was far away from here, and he and Jaina were the best chance they had for stopping Jacen. Not her. She was cold. Too angry.

    Too holed and in pain to think straight. She saw Jacen's message as she touched the StealthX down, and she typed one back. 'If you think I'm going to talk the scum who tried to turn my son to the dark side, who lied to my face, who tried to kill Han and Leia, and who has something to do with Luke's death I have no doubt, you've got it coming.'

    She nearly sent it, too. But then she realised that wouldn't help. And so, submerging herself back into the Force, using all the self control she had left, Mara sent a different message. 'You're right. This has gotten out of hand and I think you know it. I'll meet you down here.'

    With that, she took a deep breath, stilling her emotions, resisting the urge to reach out for Ben, who would be unable to sense both his parents right now, and prepared herself for the coming confrontation.

    She popped the hatch to the StealthX, and hopped down, keeping her lightsaber clearly dangling from her belt. Come and get me, Jacen.

    Mara Jade Skywalker, Jedi Master, former Emperor's Hand, and now widow, was not going to let this lie.

    ---
    Lumiya felt Ship was no longer paying attention to her, but equally he wasn't to Ben Skywalker either. 'What is it?'

    Ship paused, seemingly considering his response. Skywalker is dead.

    The Dark Lady was briefly confused. Ben? Or... 'Luke is dead?'

    Yes. And the twin sister is also absent from the Force. There is no wake, like when the Emperor-to-be hid himself in the Force. Just death.

    Lumiya felt suddenly tears in her eyes. Impossible, but Ship had no reason to lie, and Luke had never demonstrated a proficiency with hiding in the Force like Jacen had, and such proficiency had meant nothing to the Sith Meditation Sphere. She composed herself, emotional at the thought of a dead love, a dead rival, a dead enemy, the man who upturned her world so many times over - gone.

    So now what?

    Without Luke, Jacen Solo was feasibly the most powerful Force user in the galaxy. But half of Lumiya's success had been in the rapid and swift escalation of the war, and how she had injected strife into the Skywalker-Solo clan via Jacen's tutelage of Ben, which in turn allowed her to use Luke and Mara's family issues as a shield against the Jedi Council and dozens of Jedi descending on her.

    And now they were moving into the next stage of conflict, where there would be no further impediments if Luke was dead. And Jacen was still not the Dark Lord.

    She needed to escalate matters, here and now. Jacen would want to hush up what happened here, to close all loose ends... Unless he found out Luke was dead. Lumiya had fed him a vision of him killing Luke to convince Jacen to fall. Without that onus, and the 'Dark Man' still hovering on the periphery of Jacen's visions - the Sith dynasty over Hapes that he had seen told her more than enough about how much they could see of Darth Krayt - he might not turn.

    Might attempt a reconciliation with Mara now Luke was gone.

    Might not.

    Lumiya needed to do something rash. Something in keeping with the fact he had just betrayed her.

    She amended her message to Hob Bob and HK-47.

    CHANGE OF TARGET. JEDI KNIGHT CURRENTLY GROUNDED ON KAVAN. DOUBLE PAY. COME TO CO-ORDINATES ATTACHED IMMEDIATELY.

    Ship seemed perplexed. You mean to kill the Emperor-to-be?

    Lumiya smiled. 'Treachery is the way of the Sith.'

    ---
    The surprises Hob Bob had left went off, were, surprisingly, quiet. Chemicals chewed through grills and then began to poison all manner of entity, human, nonhuman, even a handful of pets.

    The baradium tipped missile were, unsurprisingly, not quiet. The detonation blew apart the entrance to the bunker - the doors, the doorframe and a fair chunk of the surrounding frontage -, the soldiers surrounding it in the midst of arraying themselves to do nothing much more than aggressively interrogate HK as they arrived.

    Two dozen soldiers were, promptly, interrogating very little. And never would be. Alarms cut out, and a degree of panic filled the bunker, quelled when orders began to be called out, resurgent when several dozen of them began to collapse from poisoning. One side effect of said explosion was to ventilate the front quarter of the bunker, by virtue of the massive holes into fresh, clean air, and from half a dozen waiters a full fifth of the surviving troops began to pick apart HK's transport with small arms fire, calling to the armory for heavier weapons.

    For Hob Bob's purposes, the generator was originally defended by three dozen soldiers that promptly began half that number before they vented the room, opening a variety of locales on the roof, originally included to allow for noxious chemicals emitted by a leaking reactor to escape, and, equally, could be reserved to seal up the room if the environment was threatened, to allow for the poison to disperse more effectively. But the long and short of the first few seconds of their two man assault was that half of the soldiers were dead, with nearly third engaged at the front or in the generator room, and another two thirds percolating, receiving orders, mainly focusing themselves on finding the internal threat and combating the external.

    HK as he approached would be able to spy a trio of soldiers rushing up to set up a rocket launcher each, an Hob Bob would be able to pick out, from the gap in the wall caused by the secret entrance, a single coordinating officer, which Intel, if he had bothered to read it, would tell him was a fifth cousin thrice removed to the monarch, General Talia, a beautiful woman at the best of times, prone to employing a personal shield and a fan of illegal disrupters and grenades.

    And of course Hob Bob's comlink buzzed for a moment with his latest message, railing for his attention.

    Assuming he had left it on silent.

    Otherwise... He may be seeing a grenade lobbed his way, and that may prove a problem.

    Or fun, depending on his mood.

    The universe was never sure with this one.

    @The Great No One, @WINKWINK
    ---
    IC: Kyp Durron
    Kashyyyk, 41 ABY

    Not-Amelia Solo promptly landed in her mothers grip, and Kyp reached out to roll not-Tenel Ka and the child off flat into the undergrowth. Instead he took a Force blow to the chest and flew back, reflecting that of course the fake Jaina would be good enough to dodge a simple tree.

    But if she was as good a fake as he knew she was, she'd also have real copies of injuries that Jacen had inflicted to her. And so he took the blow and used the Force to pivot his body so it spun him around rather than wind him, and a second slight tweak of his momentum sent him sailing towards Falcon. He had to escape and find real people. The Force would guide him.

    But while he diverted only a mild amount of his concentration and Force mastery to controlling his trip, he used half of his remaining reserved to slash his hand around, chopping it through the air horizontally like a knife, to slam a blow into the side of not-Jaina's chest, intending to pop the bacta wad positioned there over her broken ribs. The other half of his concentration saw him fling the repulsor-table at not-Tenel, a minor twist with the Force igniting the lightsabers of Jacen, Anakin and Mara as they tumbled towards her.

    Kyp touched down and his divided attention cost him as not-Jag rammed into him, shoulder barging him to the ground. Rolling up to his knees with his lightsaber to hand, Kyp came up in time to take Jag's boot to his face with a crunch. Bracing himself, Kyp cut at head height to himself, and chest height to not-Jag, successfully catching him with the tip and sending him spinning to the ground, circling around the smoking wound and clenching his teeth at the pain.

    Winded, Kyp turned to take the few remaining steps to the Falcon, ignoring the Lady Luck.

    Still no Luke, Han, Leia or Lando. Let alone Threepio and Artoo. And Kyp could not feel them in the Force at all - had the fakes got them too?

    @Mitth-Fisto, @spycoder9
    ---
    IC: Bacora Sel
    Rodia, 100 ABY

    Bacora was in a full blown run, aided with the Force, rushing towards the opposing crowds, he arrived just as Zawahul exerted himself in the Force and dropped a carcass between the two groups. The pair of Yuuzhan Vong groups took a step back as the small rocks dropped too, as Bacora reached them. Zawahul began to speak, indicating with different leaves the situation, a tone to his words that seemed part characteristic of his species but also a definite sign of understanding. He strained to work through the logic pattern briefly, applying himself. The Yuuzhan Vong seemed to have less of an issue with it, as if they were quite use to Zawahul and his proclamation/ministrations, and a general consensus of grumbling seemed to flow through both groups. Bacora couldn't decide if in essence Zawahul have threatened them with common sense or just threatened them, reminding them he was a Force user.

    Picking his way between the two milling groups, Bacora then bowed to Zawahul, vaguely conscious that in a breechclout and with items attached to his impromptu belt he was hardly ordinary fare for a human, but doubted the Thuwistan would notice. Bacora bowed to his colleague in the Force, about to speak when he remembered that the Force was referred to as the breath by Zawahul's particular cult. Flailing mentally for a brief moment he could not remember their precise greeting, but went with a similar one to his own. 'Greetings Master Zawahul, mag the breath be with you on this day.'

    'I come seeking your wisdom. I am Bacora Sel, a former member of the Jedi High Council. You will likely have heard of my actions during the recent Jedi Civil War.' He privately berated himself; why waste time with that, obviously Zawahul would have heard of him. 'My faith in the Jedi cause is passing, in that I have sacrificed much for peace and order and we barely survived the recent Force Cold War... and the Alliance has simply restored the status who that existed before the Civil War...' His tone grew bitter. There was not much else to add, to be fair.

    'The Yuuzhan Vong; Children of the Gods!'

    Bacora lurched his head upwards, not a moment before a massive shape blocked out the very sun. He shielded his eyes as the eclipse kicked in, and pulled his datapad from his bag. His personal vessel quickly noted on sensors what could only be the largest Yuuzhan Vong worldship on record, easily as large as the first Death Star, surrounded by a Yuuzhan Vong battleship, four frigates, eight light cruisers and sixteen corvettes, with a wave of landing craft launching.

    Rumours had abounded of Nas Choka rearming in the Unknown Regions to protect the Yuuzhan Vong colonies from the depredations of the Terrors, but weapons inspectors had regularly been blocked, or discovered they had incomplete disclosure and another world had been colonised and the GA had lost track. The Jedi Civil War and Force Cold War had made such things moot, and Coruscant was a good decade away from picking up the problem.

    Bacora Sel was more surprised that the communique, resonating through wild villips, other biots and simple comm channels, was in Basic, but it followed that Choka wanted to have the attention of the Rodian population as well.

    'You were told by the Jedi that Yammka died when Shimmra fell, that he was a concoction of our ancestors when they turned to war. I, the God of War Yammka, speak to you now, for in my 'death' I have descended to your mortal plane to right this wrong, to save the Yuuzhan Vong people from those who would betray you.'

    Bacora felt his heart sink.

    'Warriors! Know that you were not misled, and that in following Shimmra you have led us to this moment in our history, to when we shall become greater than we ever could have under the old elite!' The warriors batted at their chests, issuing war cries.

    'Extolled Ones, know that your ascension was not the work of the Jedi, or Yun-Shuno, but an act of myself, in declaring war on the old order and demanding it's renewal and resurrection with you beside me! Know that I redeemed you and now call you to war!'

    The Extolled Ones roared, and Bacora picked up on a strand of energy that caused disbelief; the Force was flowing from the speaker to them, compelling them to believe him in a manner that was simply impossible. But, Bacora also knew that Onimi, the jester of Shimmra, had done the same by means unknown and rendered the Supreme Overlord a puppet.

    And as such the Yuuzhan Vong were completely defenceless against such an attack. It was not mind control in the strictest sense of the use of a mind trick, but it was on the same skein as battle meditation, riling up the Yuuzhan Vong, psyching them for war.

    Whoever it was must have originally been a Yuuzhan Vong, and, without a doubt, an incredibly powerful Force user. Bacora took a step back towards Zawahul, hand reaching for his lightsaber hilt, clicking a quick button on his datapad as he did, recalling his ship.

    'We need to go and now. Do you have somewhere we can go, or a fast method of transport nearby?'

    @Mitth-Fisto
    Mitth_Fisto and Random Comments like this.
  2. Sinrebirth SWC and EUC Forum Moderator

    Manager
    Member Since:
    Nov 15, 2004
    star 7
    IC: Yalta Val
    Arkania, 108 ABY

    It was not every day one received a message from the Emperor himself. Quickly taking his knee, the hologram of Emperor Fel II convalesced in front of him, and Yalta Val prepared himself for it.

    'Master Val,'

    'Your Majesty.'

    'You may rise,' Fel intoned, confirming it was a formal conversation.

    'Thank you, your Majesty.' Val's armour lightly clinked as he stood, but he resisted the urge to visibly since. The sound itself was unacceptable, and a loss of expression would make it all the worse. 'What is my bidding?'

    The Emperor smiled, tightly. 'Reports abound of some great change in the galaxy. The area from Sluis Van to Hutta is a disaster zone, from the Force Cold War and all the proxy wars between the Twilight Jedi on behalf of Eriadu, the Jensaarai on behalf of Sluis Van, the Bothans and the Blue Sun artificial Force users, let alone further around the southern Rim to Bakura thanks to the Mugaar uprising and the efforts of the Dominion rimward of the Senex Sector in conflict with the Atravis Sector...'

    Yalta Val was nonplussed. He knew matters were bad in that region, with a small bubble of stability around Trulais and the Imperial Mission on Naboo, but how bad they actually we're seemed irrelevant to his station on Arkania, unless he was to be moved, which seemed unlikely considering that he had just been dispatched here, fresh out of being Knighted.

    '... But a report has suggested that the ongoing silence from the region is due to a local cataclysm that has consumed several sectors. Similarly, there is evidence that the HoloNet is being sabotaged in the vicinity, as we cannot raise the Bothans and our enclaves in the area, though rumours abound, all covered up by the Alliance.'

    'But I have also been contacted by Master Brandl of the Trulalis academy, currently based at our Mission on Kiffi. He has a set of coordinates in the Unknown Regions which he claims pertains to the source of the disturbance.' Yalta frowned, and allowed it to show.

    'Claims, your Majesty?'

    'Quite. He has suggested that the Yuuzhan Vong have became an operative force in the area and sowed it not just with hyperspace mines, but also with creatures which consume HoloNet signals and their origin points. He has received information, he states, that the origin point of this 'Second Invasion' is a planet in the Unknown Regions slightly outside the territory of the former Empire of the Hand. I am readying the fleet on the off-chance he is correct, but he will not verify his sources...'

    Yalta Val knew the Mission on Trulalis, a successor to a warlord fiefdom that had been relatively independent since the Battle of Endor mainly due to geographical reasons - it's distance from the main centres of Imperial power on Coruscant, Byss, Orinda or Bastion - had a prickly relationship with Bastion since it sued for peace with the Republic many years before Pellaeon did, even before isolated fortress worlds such as Gyndine had, and as such it had rejoined the Empire on it's own terms after the ascension of Head of State Reige.

    The Emperor sighed, slightly. 'You will prepare the corvette for a set of encrypted coordinates and proceed with it to the relevant system. The coordinates, Brandl stated, will override the systems of the vessel it is uploaded to, until the vessel visits the actual location. Something about him ensuring that I would investigate the problem. He made mention of you by name, said that you had 'demonstrated sufficient initiative tempered with loyalty to encounter and deal with any problems that should arise'.' The Emperor adopted a tone as he quoted Brandl, and Yalta could not help but wonder about the subtleties going on here. Brandl dictating to the Emperor, and removing a single, newly graduated, Imperial Knight from the galactic equation as a Yuuzhan Vong resurgence was about to begin? It was high tactics and Yalta just accepted his lot.

    'As you wish, your Majesty. I shall upload the coordinates and gather the requisite supplies.' He paused. 'And what of the item?'

    His Majesty did frown, as if remembering something of minor consequence. 'Oh yes, the artifact. You were to take it to two of the subjects on the Sanatorium, I recall. Keep it aboard, and do not dally. We do not have much time, if this invasion is in-fact real and has already taken over the south-east quadrant.' The Emperor adopted a grim face. 'We shall not turn our back on the galaxy as the New Republic did last time, and the Alliance seems to be determined to do this time.'

    Yalta Val bowed. 'Your will be done, your Majesty. I should be able depart within four days, at the rate of this unloading and re-stocking for a mission into the Unknown Regions.'

    The Emperor leaned away to end the transmission. ‘Your mission leaves in two. And no more vessels shall be diverted to Arkania, or any of the other Missions, in the meantime, so make sure the garrison knows this before you leave.’ And with that he was gone.

    @Chukles38, @Shira, @Thrawn1786, @The Great No One
    ---
    IC: Luke Skywalker
    En route to Lok, 137 ABY

    Cade Skywalker was as disrespectful as ever, and Luke had to employ a calming technique to simply stop him from trying to throttle his great-grandson with hands which could not. Calming himself, Luke knew that Cade had simply not had the breaks he had. He had been orphaned just like Cade as a teen, but he had Obi-Wan to act as a father figure and then the entire Rebellion provided his life with structure. Much like Mara and Shira had been very similar individuals and had received different breaks, Cade was his unhappier version.

    'Something has shifted in the make-up of the Force. It is a colossal change. If you do not embrace your destiny and face the dark side here, and now, you will die, and the galaxy will be cursed to fall forever.'

    Half of that was Luke, but the other half was the Force itself. It was a pivot point as unique and important as that when he named his niece the Sword of the Jedi, and he was as much a channel for the Force as he was his own voice.

    'Cade I -' and just as suddenly a sense of overwhelming dread gripped him, the Force literally screaming at him. 'This is -' realisation smashed into him, that he was already gone, erased, finished...and that in this form he had been insulated from it in a small way which had now came to an end. Luke closed his eyes, as he ignored whatever jibe Cade threw at him. 'I will miss you, Mara.' And then his spirit shone white in a blaze, the light burning from his eye sockets and an ear-piercing and wailing shriek escaping him as he was consumed and vanished, leaving nothing but a wisp and a brief breeze.

    With a shudder they emerged from hyperspace a moment later, and Syn came over the comm, 'Cade, Blue, I don't care what you're doing right now but get up here now.

    Syn was so busy not dying that he didn't even contemplate if Cade and Blue would even be decent. The Mynock had emerged in a system that had visited the apocalypse. White orbs of brilliance had consumed patches of the solar system, one of the outer planets having a missing chunk the size of it's moon. An anomaly that didn't even register on the scanners was above Lok consuming it's atmosphere like a ngdin would blood, the orbiting Pellaeon-class Star Destroyer pouring every weapon of it's titanic arsenal at the threat and doing nothing appreciable. A plague of smaller orbs were popping open above the equator of Lok, and the moon, which had appeared fine, suddenly vanished into an orb which had begun beneath it's crust. As Syn manoeuvred around fleeing starships and satellites which were being tossed out of orbit, an anomaly opened in front of them, and Syn twitched the yoke, sweating as he did, but his reactions were too slow and the starboard wing creased the edge of the orb, and promptly vanished, causing Syn to curse in Huttese. 'Best buckle in, people, we're going down, and well be going down hard.'

    As they broke atmosphere, they could see that the entire surface was littered with such orbs, some small, some growing larger, some ripping at the space between plates, a world on the edge of the nine Corellian hells.

    But not the spaceport.

    Not yet.

    So Syn needed to get them down quickly, and then get them down in one piece. 'Cade, take the controls!'

    He knew he wasn't the pilot to do this. He just hoped Cade was.

    @Chukles38
    ---
    IC: Antilles
    Unknown Regions, 146 ABY

    Lenea was seemingly displeased with how ex-Chief Antilles had addressed her, but he did not care. He simply tasked the frigate with rounding the planet at maximum speed, but with maximum shields and weapons to hand.

    Lenea, for her part, would reach the Saridonia side of the planet and see a freighter which her computer would peg as one of the refugee ships that had joined them over time, the Guardians impromptu government attracting all manner of people in need of help. The comm channels we're ablaze as soon they saw her, it would feel like in the Force, a cloying desperation, but her sensors would tell her long before they saw her that the ship was damaged and quite badly, as if an explosion had taken place right beside it.

    '- is the Wayferer, Captain Chael commanding. Requesting immediate assistance and evacuation. Saridonia was attacked by the Sith, but we were wrong - they were running, like we should have. The solar system is gone. All gone.'

    Captain Antilles and his crew picked up the channel through Lenea's fighter at the same time and fell quiet, unsure how to respond. 'Spatial anomalies have eaten the solar system, I have videos of the phenomena, forwarding now.'

    Those videos would corroborate what he was saying; a Pellaeon-class Star Destroyer arriving in-system and feinting hard at the defence grid, before three Yevethan thrustships and two Chiss Star Destroyers arrived to hit the disorganised defenders. The battle dragged on for hours, if the first forwarded footage was anything, the Sith commander railing about how the rest of the galaxy had been consumed and they needed to invade the next one, carve themselves out a fiefdom and hope the anomaly wouldn't escape the galaxy, sent his own footage of Coruscant falling, of Bakura and Bastion vanishing, of the deep core of the galaxy being consuming... It would be ten minutes of horror and terror and madness.

    And so it was true.

    Captain Antilles and his crew watched it all, speechless, as their frigate rounded the planet. He absently lamented. Well that puts a dampener on my plans doesn't it?

    And at the end of those minutes sensors detected a single triangular frigate of Imperial design, which promptly disgorged shuttles and fighters, far too many for it to be able to carry, suggesting it's hull was stuffed to the gallows with refugees. 'This is the Inquisitor. We are the Sith, and we are Nihilists. We praise the anomalies, the void themselves, an Empire of pure nothingness to scourge the galaxy clean in the light! We destroy on it's behalf!'

    'Nutters, then.' And on that note Antilles didn't mince words. 'Open fire on those fighters before they disperse, and get that freighter into tractor beam range right now. Jedi Master, time to earn you keep. Keep what is left of those fighters off our backs.' The Alliance frigate opened up, it's Sabertooth fangs the point where various weapons were placed, streams of red fire meeting and connecting with what had been nearly twenty motley Yevethan D-type fighters, TIE Defenders, Predators and Sith Furies, cutting them down to half a dozen - but giving the Imperial frigate the opportunity to lob a salvo at the GA ship and rocking it's shields.

    Antilles scowled. 'Steady.' They had effectively given an equally matched opponent the first round for free, so they would eventually lose the engagement, if they fought it. 'Lenea, you're up.'

    Three TIE Defenders spun towards the freighter, it's Captain begging for help, while a D-Type and two Predators rolled towards Lenea. They opened fire, the backdrop for their shots being her frigate. The Defenders were still in range of Lenea and the frigate, but both were tied up and would need to act fast.

    Especially so if some cosmic horror was consuming the galaxy.

    @Skywalker_T-65
    ---
    IC: Darth Tod
    Nesron, 600 ABY

    More posturing.

    More words.

    Words were meaningless, Darth Tod knew. Lora Skywalker believed in them. In epiphets and emotions. And pain. She definitely believed in pain. The darks true calling. He absently wondered, for a brief moment, if another Skywalker could be bade to join the dark side.

    In that moment Lora hurtled two rocks at him, from opposite directions, and lunged forward. He cursed himself for his inattentiveness, and then focused, taking a step forward and tapping the rocks along, rather than resist them, simply make it impossible for their trajectory to be adjusted to account for him rushing towards his opponent, a maelstrom of energy launching him forward as he slashed his blade up, joining his second hand to the hilt and bracing his shoulder, feeling their respective energies colliding before their blades did, Tod all but salivating over the raw power on display.

    Their blades met.

    The force caused the air molecules to rush away; a venerable shock wave that rendered the two pieces of rubble that Lora had lobbed nothing but dust; shattered the remnants of buildings around them for dozens of metres...

    ... Locked together, the Force wrapped around him a second body, Tod felt the surge of pressure in their lightsabers just before it spiked, and, even though incredulous, he shifted the Force behind him and, as the spike in their blades peaked, a full half second later, he shoved at Lora as it happened;

    Their lightsabers exploded, disintegrating them in than an instant.

    To the naked eye, it seemed that the two of them had met and the moment they did a burst of light. Tod felt burn on his face and hands, a surge of indignation that coloured his cheeks as much as the all but sunburn that had just occurred. He had a cushion ready for him but was still hurtled back, boots scraping the floor, and he anticipated that his push, coupled with the explosion, would push Lora back a bit more.

    His cloak was alight at the base from the mini explosion, and it rushed up the black fabric. Tod reached down, drawing the flame into a ball above his hand and discarding the robe with the other, returning his attention to Lora.

    A brief catalogue of his wounds; the bruise, the reddened face, the burned hands... And something troubling him.

    What was bothering him so?

    He should have crushed her by now, and instead she launched a counterattack... What was dividing his attention?

    @DarkLordoftheFins
    Last edited by Sinrebirth, Jun 29, 2014
  3. The Great No One Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Jun 4, 2005
    star 8
    IC: Subject 25739/ Interview Room/ Maximum Security Wing/ Arkanian Sanitarium/ Arkania/ 108 ABY


    With each kick that Subject 25739 took there were more coughs interspersed with the manic laughter. He heard Dr. Quillan's attempts to stall Kendush, but they did nothing to stop the man. Eventually there was blood on the floor, both from his face and from coughing it up. Something tripped Kendush, and Dr. Quillan, who had already been moving to grab the much larger man, felt the smash of the man's fist against her face. Oooooh. That's gotta hurt. I'd certainly know that all too well. Oh my pancreas.

    A change came over the good doctor, and Subject 25739 recognized a kindred darkness within his so mild mannered caretaker. What she did with that darkness impressed him greatly. In just over a second Kendush was reeling on the ground, grabbing at his balls and groaning. We have a firecracker ladies and gents!

    Jeez boss, I get da feelin' we could kinda like her.

    Bob... Sometimes I have no clue what to do with your idiotic ideas. Just shut up.
    He would have said this last, but all that came out was a garbled moan towards Kendush fetal form. Looking at the disheveled doctor, there was something that was familiar about her that Subject 25739 simply could not place. Maybe all of the extra pain he was feeling was too much of a distraction. He suspected that was the case as his body felt like it had been hit by a concussion missile.

    He heard Dr. Herdstrom to take him and Subject 83247 to the infirmary, and Subject 25739 knew that he was being given something he hadn't had in the entire time he'd been there: a chance to get out. He tried to sit up, and he heard Gyrinim say that they weren't allowed to do that, and Subject 25739 felt the urge to kill the man on the spot. Subconsciously he knew how bad off he was at that moment, but he didn't care. He wanted out of that hell hole, and he wanted out now. After all, there was nothing quite like a spur of the moment escape. However, he found that his body simply was not going to allow him to stand on his own. Scowling, and coughing up some more blood, Subject 25739 tried to seem sulky. It didn't come off very well.

    Feeling hands grabbing him, Subject 25739 tried to say something sarcastic, but again all that came out was a garbled groan. This is getting annoying. Get with it mouth, don't make me-. The thought stopped simply because he couldn't come up with a way to threaten his own body. It was the first time a threat had never come to him, and left him somewhat flabbergasted as his mouth worked like a fish. He coughed up more blood, hitting one of the orderlies in the face with it as they carried him down yet another of the monotonous halls. The look on the man's face was enough to set him to laughing again, which did nothing but cause him more trouble breathing. It was a vicious cycle, the life of Subject 25739.

    Finally they arrived at the infirmary, the walking Subject 83247 entered first, followed by the orderlies carrying him, and last Dr. Herstrom, the bruise on her cheek starting to become pronounced. Initially Dr. Vidlin, or so his name tag said, assumed that the two men in straight jackets had gotten into it, and began tending to his colleague in the medical practice. Dr. Quillan was having none of it, and ordered him to take care of Subject 25739 who was obviously in far worse condition. She had ordered his straight jacket removed, and a sparkle would have entered his eyes if the pain hadn't blocked any chance of happy from appearing on his face.

    But he's... I can't do anything with him until a sedative takes effect.” Clearing his throat, he called for one to be administered. While that was going on he moved over to Subject 83247 and double checked him. It was obvious he wasn't going to need to have his straight jacket removed, and Subject 25739 ideally wondered what amusing plea he was going to come up with this time. It was quickly found out that there was nothing wrong with him, and Dr. Vidlin said as much.

    Expecting his buddy to be removed from the room, he felt mildly sorry that he wasn't going to be able to bring him with him as he got out, but that wasn't Subject 25739's problem. Live and let kill, and all that. He nearly started laughing but fought it so that it would seem like the sedative was doing its work. With all of the chemicals he'd had running through his system over the years, Subject 25739 had built up quite a tolerance to most of the drugs they used to calm him down. But one thing he'd learned, and learned well: how to fake it.

    And so it was that Subject 25739 lay limp on an exam table while a doctor with very cold hands began prodding at him after his straight jacket had been removed for the first time since the spoon incident. As Dr. Vidlin realized he was going to have to perform surgery on Subject 25739, he simply reveled in the feeling of his arms being free from the refining and painful condition forced upon them by the straight jacket. If he was being honest, his shoulders burned in pain, but it was a good pain. It was the pain of muscles and joints finally getting to move again, and really it was nothing compared to the flaming mass in the middle of his stomach. And couldn't the good doctor please give him something for that so he could actually get out of here? Heh. Yea right. At least the sedatives had actually done something useful and taken the edge off.

    After waiting for things to be prepared in the operating room, and being still unable to deal with the most excruciating itch on his nose despite his hands being free, Subject 25739 was finally allowed into a room with a sharp instrument since he had brought ruin down upon the entire galaxy. He felt his fingers twitch in anticipation of getting to wrap around one of the scalpels on the table nearby. He noted Dr. Quillan had remained nearby, and actually regretted the high probability of having to harm her. Well, part of him did. The rest just wanted to gut everything in sight and run, smearing the walls with the blood of his victims like a child who just found out about finger paints.

    Making a grab for one of the scalpels that was on a tray near him, Subject 25739 was surprised to find that his hands simply weren't up to the task of grabbing such a small utensil and he ended up flipping the tray. He lashed out with a foot and caught one of the nurses on the chin, and watched as one of the blades he'd tried to grab sliced open the arm of Dr. Vindil. He was most surprised, however, when he tried to sit up and found himself doubled over with the pain. It was only then that he realized not only the toll that being there had taken on his body and skills, but exactly how hurt he was.

    It took several moments for him to focus on the hubbub around him, but when he finally did he noticed some orderlies coming through the door and all of the doctor's staff cowering in a corner. They knew who he was, and what he had once been capable of. The only ones not worried were Dr. Quillan and Subject 83247, though for vastly different reasons.

    Holding up a hand Subject 25739 opened his mouth and found himself hacking out a gob of bloody phlegm. After several moments of that, where even the orderlies weren't wanting to rush in when he'd had his hands free around anything even remotely dangerous, he managed to speak. “Stop. I'm done. I'll behave.” He coughed again, doubling over. No one trusted him.

    Why should we believe a madman who kills people for fun?” Dr. Vidlin snarled out, while the wound on his arm was being seen to.

    Laying down, Subject 25739 said “Not doing it for you. I'm doing it for her.” And he pointed at Dr. Quillan. “Retrain me if you have to, but I'm not going anywhere.” I've lost a lot more than I'd realized. How sad. But he knew he could get it all back, if only he survived this last encounter with good ol' Kenny. It was up to the good doctor to help him now, as there was nothing he could do to help himself.

    TAG: @Chukles38 @Shira A'dola
  4. Mitth_Fisto Chosen One

    Member Since:
    Sep 29, 2005
    star 6
    IC: Thuwistan Zawahul
    Rodia, Jungles 100ABY

    Seeds found fertile soil. Though rocky and spread with sand, a bit more than his own breath liked, he simply quivered his upper leaves as the fresh breath came swiftly. It winded its way through the held forms that kept their vigil even as the grumbling ascent to reason took hold. The breath came up upon him and he twisted upon his supporting leaves slightly. Just enough to bring a larger sensory bulb to bear for a better view of this one.

    Humanoid. Probably human, with patchy growth of fur upon it's face. It spoke in rushed breath forced upon the air, it did pause for but a moment, yet did not give a moment for the experience of its own words. It spoke as though it were the greatest tree within a otherwise sparse prairie. It did not even give recognition to the clans of rot and chase. Although the first words, were words of trying, it curled the leaves that had to bear the brunt of it. It was kind but yet repulsive. Nice, without being nice. The man, if Zawahul was not mistaken, spoke irritatingly and. . .was interrupted by a voice greater.

    'The Yuuzhan Vong; Children of the Gods' Vibrated forcefully through the air. A breath fresh flowed down from the Yuuzhan Vong ship that obscured all but a smallest portion of the light from the rarefied portions of the jungle sky. The breath flowed freely in it's tight motions, into and through the wild things. It spread to those about and seemed to inspire a vigor of their saps as he had not seen before. It was a heady experience to feel, to breath in vicariously, it quickened his own saps in its own ways.

    It spoke of betrayal and lies of misleading by the Jedi. A simple leaf unfurled and stretched as Zawahul moved to pluck a wild villip, taking it in leaf it held it up to listen more closely through the direct vibrations from the fruit, and to better taste the breath that flowed through it. Old stories and lore resounded to rattle in his seed pod at this, but he heeded that knowledge little. Far more was the moment. Far more the now, then to the past or future that was forming about them.

    The clan of Chase was roused, the clan of Rot rechristened, and now only one clan of War was left. Yet there were as many forms to that as there were parasites in the jungle. Only in knowing the speaker could one know what they sought and the channel of War they spoke. For the old was brought low, and the future so risen that he could not discern which way the water would truly flow until it had flown its course otherwise.

    The human, Bacora Sel, Jedi, spoke now with breath rapid and air tepid with wilt. It wanted to leave and he had no need not to answer. "I live were I am, and my ship is three days rapid travel." well, three days if the Yuuzhan Vong would lend a riding beast, on foot he would mark a pace of six days. Either way he was in no hurry to leave, the light may be stifled and the people riled, but neither was reason to run.

    Lifting the wild Villip to his sensory pods and seed pod. "Greetings. What of one who moves among the Children of the Gods, or those that live by them?" his words spoke well to his two seasons here. The anniversary of which was but mere calender marks past. In truth if the human, rodians, or Yuuzhan Vong themselves asked in years his time here he would not know, on Revyia it was the breaking of a specific Jungle tree of the soil. It was inexact by not being to the day, but well marked and easy for those that often and easily could visit the band of sacred jungle, which was the whole world to easily know the spreading new seasons tidings as by the knowledge and/or number of harvests. Still it did not matter the years within his time here, nor the seasons number that resounded in his seed pod, what mattered was that a new breath was suffusing the Jungle of Rodia.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth
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  5. greyjedi125 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 29, 2002
    star 5
    IC: Stark (Subject 1313)
    Nar Shaddaa, Corellian quarter, 5 ABY

    They say it only takes a spark.

    Stark carried Vima in his arms, moving speedily through the panicked crowd despite his burden. He knew not where he took her, as long as it was away from the danger he sensed and the one he’d seen.

    Boba Fett.

    “Down, put Vima down”, the old crone cried.

    Stark did not comply immediately and only did so after they had made a turn into an alley. Here, the TIE fighters were out of sight and not nearly as loud as they’d been a moment ago. They were safe, or at least relatively so. Gently, the young revenant placed her on the floor, concern etched upon his hooded face.

    “Are you…alright?” He asked tentatively.

    A presence caught his attention, just as he followed Vima’s gaze. They had happened upon Dray. The old man pushing his trolley was no stranger to Stark, to whom he’d shared his stories of the past,which were plentiful and full of mysteries.

    Stark was about to greet him, but instead winced at the sharp pain he felt, almost as if a plume of fire had flared in his mind. More Phantom voices came suddenly and unbidden to haunt him.

    ‘You’re dead. You are all dead.’ The voice said to Stark, who shook his head, but it persisted. ‘How can you be alive?’

    The clone gritted his teeth and grunted in an attempt to force the voice out of his head. He did not readly recognize the speaker, nor did he want to. He’d always had trouble relating to the voices and the emotions they evoked in him. He saw faces he thought he’d recognized, but never met. The whole sordid affair was maddening.

    “The Empire returns.” Dray said with a growl. For some strange reason, the force sensitive old man managed to capture Stark’s attention. There was something in his tone of voice. “Is it time to fight, or flee, now that the Empire has lost it’s Emperor?”

    “The Emperor? Dead??” Stark wondered with a great measure of surprise at Dray’s words. But before he could give the issue any thought, all possible implications were cut short as the left wall blew out, catching everyone by surprise.

    Stark felt the force of the explosion rock him backwards and off his feet, but years of ingrained training were hardwire to his being, via his original template. The revenant flipped and vaulted through the air and landed solidly a few meters away. Pain was a long time companion, which washed through him like a brief summer rain. Raising his head, Stark eyes confirmed what he’d already felt in the Force.

    Dray lay unmoving after sustaining a collision with the opposing wall. Boba Fett stood over him, pistol pointed at the old man’s prone body. From behind the infamous bounty hunter, the bandaged human appeared.

    “You forgot the third option; to die.” He said mockingly.

    Vima was on the floor, alive but motionless, unsure of what to do.

    Stark hardly saw her now. The spark, as it were, had done its deed.

    Inside the revenant’s mind, only a dark roar roiled and crested. He had been forged to be a weapon in the fires of the darkside. His memories told him so. Thoughts of his weakness and limitations were burned away by the all -consuming rage he felt bursting inside of him.

    But would it be enough?

    He didn’t care.

    In the world of predator and prey, he had learned one thing alone, thanks to Darth Vader. Hesitation was certain death.

    Stark stretch out his hands an a wave of force shot forth. His intention was to knock down his opponents and separate them, slow them down. Kill the weak one first, just as they had done. In his mind, Stark already knew he had at least three lightsabers at his disposal. He aimed to make good used of them all.

    Kill first.

    Ask questions later.

    As he lept high in the air - an unlit metallic cylinder appeared in his hand.

    He would impale the bandaged man, then deal with the real threat.


    Tag: @Sinrebirth *Better to die doing, than die doing nothing! [face_nail_biting]:p
    Last edited by greyjedi125, Jun 30, 2014
  6. Shira A'dola Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Sep 4, 2012
    star 6
    IC: Subject 83247
    Maximum Security Wing, Arkanian Sanatorium, Arkania

    Subject 83247 felt a surge of glee as he saw Kendush fall flat on his face. He could have done a little dance, but the damned jacket and chains kept him from moving as much as he needed to. He saw the doctor move to stop Kendush and tried to warn her, but it was too late. The resounding sound of the former Head Orderly’s fist smashing into Dr. Herdstrom’s face was so loud the Chiss nearly felt it himself. He felt rage wash through him. Even he had morals against something like that. He fought against his chains, his fury heightened by his restrictions. What he saw in the woman’s eyes, however, stopped him suddenly. Ohhhh she’s a kindred spirit. Would you look at that...She’s got more hidden away inside than she lets on. She even fooled me! That takes some talent. Oh I like you, I really do. His delight at this realization turned to sheer elation as the blonde took down Kendush in two harsh, calculated strikes.

    Oh the uses I could have for a woman like you. That was admirable, it was. There’s so much more I could teach you. You slipped. You let the fury and the memories out. You let the revenge out. It’s got a good grip on you whether you want it to or not. And it’ll be so much easier if you give in. There is a great amount of satisfaction in letting loose on a world that let you down. And it looks like it did. I want you. Subject 83247 surprised himself at these thoughts. He’d never wanted an apprentice before. But he desperately wanted this doctor. And he wanted his fellow inmate too, despite the fact he was probably close to critical at this point. They were being led somewhere, had the blonde ordered them somewhere? He’d been lost in thought, not paying attention, which he berated himself heavily for. That was a dangerous practice. He couldn’t afford that luxury. Losing yourself in though was reserved for idiots and scholars. Though arguably those two people went to the same category.

    The grin that had crept on his face slid off as they entered the infirmary. Or what he assumed was the infirmary. He’d never actually been in the place in the eight years he’d been here, never mind the fact he had probably needed the visit more than once. His keen red eyes took in every detail he could absorb before his mouth dropped open with outrage as he saw them remove the jacket from Subject 25739. Immediately and without thought his body began to gather the Force around him for a retaliatory burst, only to have his body wracked with blinding pain that forced him to his knees and left him gasping for breath, his body shaking with tremors. He shook his head forcefully after a moment to clear his vision. I’m gonna have to work on that. At least it’s more than I could do a few months ago. It’s coming back. A wicked grin crossed his face as he realized no one had batted an eye at him in their attempts to tend to the more critical Subject 25739. That’s right. Keep your attention off of me. This is a big mistake. None of you medical orderlies have ever met me. I’m sure you’ve heard of me. But you don’t put number with name. Otherwise you’d be paying a whole lot more attention to me. You put one who threw the galaxy in chaos into a room with chemicals and sharp objects.

    The sound of crashing medical instruments and a scuffle sounded from the other room where they had taken Subject 25739 to treat him. I really need to find another name for him. Months of “Subject 25739” have gotten so dull...He fought against the two orderlies leading him back to his cell, straining to see what was going on in there.

    “Let’s go, we’re wasting time.” Subject 83247 nearly fell as he was yanked along towards the corridor towards the cells. The inability to balance due to his arms positioned close to him by the jacket contributed to this and instead of fighting it, he decided to fall as he was yanked again, throwing the other man off balance. He swept his feet underneath him, bringing him completely to the floor. The other orderly jumped on top of him, driving the breath out of his lungs. The Chiss simply hit his head on the man’s skull, knocking the large man senseless before working to roll out from under him. Geez, maybe you could give me some of the extra food you’ve been stuffing your face with. He stood back up, rolled his eyes as he saw the other orderly feigning unconsciousness and walked back to the med-bay to figure out what was going on. He had no interest in breaking out yet, or in hurting those men as much as he could have. Herdstrom’s good wishes were still needed if he was getting out.

    By the looks of things, he’d missed the majority of the conflict. The doctor who had met them at the door had a nasty looking gash in his arm, and there was a nurse on the floor. Subject 25739 appeared to be surrendering, allowing himself to be treated without another ordeal, and no wonder. The man was in terrible shape, critical even. From how much blood he was coughing up, he was certainly bleeding internally, likely several ruptured organs as well as other complications Subject 83247 didn’t bother thinking up. He knelt down and slowly worked one of the fallen scalpels between his arm and side, hidden by the straight-jacket. There was any number of uses for a hidden blade like this, and he’d rather be safe than sorry.

    He turned around and sat docilely on a medical bed, waiting to be noticed as he worked through his thoughts silently. Soon. Not yet, but soon. And then you’ll all remember that I am more than just the nightmare in your deepest sleep.

    TAG: @The Great No One @Chukles38
    Last edited by Shira A'dola, Jul 2, 2014
  7. Skywalker_T-65 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Nov 19, 2009
    star 6
    IC: Lenea Sandstrider
    Unnamed System

    There were many things Lenea could have expected when she had crossed to the other side of the nameless plane. Perhaps a pirate, or a rogue Imperial warship. Maybe even a remnant of one of the myriad of Sith Orders that had existed at some time or another. Of course, what she hadn't expected, was to see a somewhat familiar sight. A freighter, not her brother's to be fair, but it hardly mattered. It was still a Guardian vessel, albeit one that was heavily...heavily...damaged. And the feeling of fear coming from the crew made her shut her senses off from the Force...it was not a good feeling.

    '- is the Wayferer, Captain Chael commanding. Requesting immediate assistance and evacuation. Saridona was attacked by the Sith, but we were wrong - they were running, like we should have. The solar system is gone. All gone.'

    One emotion that had little place in the younger Sandstrider sibling was fear. She was too hot-headed for her own good, and very rarely did anything actually terrify the young woman. To hear that Saridona was attacked by the Sith was bad enough. To hear that the entire system was...gone...

    'Spatial anomalies have eaten the solar system, I have videos of the phenomena, forwarding now.'

    While the crew on the frigate would probably be looking at the anomalies or paying attention to what the Sith were saying, only one thing drew the attention of the young woman in the fighter. What Lenea saw, was the sight of a single portion of the Saridona defense system. An ancient Nebula-class Star Destroyer, firing every weapon it had. She saw it keep firing, until the anomalies came...until the ship was split cleanly in half by a white orb.

    She didn't even realize she was screaming until her throat went raw.

    'Jedi Master, time to earn you keep. Keep what is left of those fighters off our backs.'

    The voice of the ex-Chancellor forced Lenea to focus on something other than the fact she had just seen her brother killed. On something other than the gaping hole in her mind, where his presence was normally a calming feature.

    "R...roger that," the young woman replied, her voice cracked as she turned towards the Sith forces.

    Sighting in on her targets, Lenea saw three fighters approaching her, and three going for the damaged freighter. The latter three were old Defenders, while she had an equally old (and far less effective) Yevetha fighter to deal with...escorted by two Predators, craft as modern(-ish) as her own Twin-Tail. Frowning slightly, she tapped the firing stud on her control stick once, sending a pair of torpedoes after the D-Type. The fighter would have a hard time dodging torpedoes that were far more modern and accurate than it had been designed to counter.

    So she turned her attention away from that fighter, and spun her fighter to the side slightly to avoid any return fire, before opening up on the left-most Predator...

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  8. DarkLordoftheFins Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 2, 2007
    star 4
    Lora Skywalker
    Nesron, 600 ABY

    Lora spitted out the pain. The air hissed from her mouth and then was replaced by a broad grin. Oh the tide was turning slowly. Tod was not easy to defeat, but he was not in control, he was not . . . meant to survive.

    Looking at his deactivated lightsaber she came back to her feet after his push and the explosion had knocked her down. Then she looked at her own weapon. They would be easy to activate again once cooled down, probably there were many lightsabers all around them from fallen Jedi and Sith alike.

    But did it matter? She needed no lightsaber to kill a man, no matter what fancy title he held. A simple truth she had learned about herself. She was good in killing. She was obviously meant to be.

    She raised her hand and with a scream she send the sharpest piece of shrapnel around them flying towards the Sith, not letting it go to develop it's own velocity, but keeping a firm grip around it through the force, forcing it through whatever redirection or stopping it the Sith might attempt. It was nothing but another distraction of course, as the Sith seemed distracted already. The true attack on him came from her other hand which, just as he was assumed to react to the new attack raised and channelled all her anger and pain.

    It erupted in blue lightning from her fingertips and the Jedi knew best how hard those were to block, when you had no lightsaber. He would fin a way though, she was sure of it. That was not meant to kill him. She would do this herself and with her bare hands . . .

    Just as lightning and shrapnel should hit her enemy she began to move, to charge towards her enemy. She would jump over him and snap his neck with her own hands. Somehow it was strange how satisfying even the perspective of this felt . . .

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  9. Ktala Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Sep 7, 2002
    star 6
    Jedi Knight Tionne
    Tatooine, Mos Espa, 14 ABY, early year

    Tionne smiled as Kam offered her a grin. He then became his serious self, and Tionne quickly quieted her music. 'Whoever Cuf is, we can't allow him to walk away with a Sith artifact.' Kam stood, lightsaber already in hand. Tionne looked over quizzical, not sure if she liked who this was quickly escalating. Kam continued, "and even if I couldn't get a decent read on him in the Force, his body language told me he didn't want Jedi looking into his business." That much was true. And usually, anyone who wished to horde a Sith artifact, was not doing so out of the goodness of their hearts. "And anything that someone doesn't want a Jedi to look into involving Sith artifacts can never be a good thing, let alone legal." Tionne sighed, and nodded in agreement, as she moved to join her partner.

    Kam turned to face the doorway in, when the doors suddenly opened, and Cuf was striding out, face fully cloaked and ignoring them entirely. The Twi'lek's spluttered, half following Cuf out. 'Is your business finished with my master?'

    Cuf stopper his stride, briefly glancing back. "Yes, now." That sounded like it had ended a bit more abrupt than expected. At the same time, the doorway that Kam and she had come in through suddenly slammed open, and a pair of beings, dressed in a way that both Tionne and Kam would recognize instantly came to mind. The Disciples of Ragnos. Well, that would certainly explain much. And why they were so interested in the artifact. The reason the doors had flown open, was because the pair were moving backwards to et away from another, Padawan Jaden Korr, his yellow bladed lightsaber weaving a basket of energy, attacking and also defending from a third Disciple pursuing him, all three Sith acolytes wielding a single crimson lightsaber.

    Tionne immediately called her lightsaber to hand, but not yet igniting it, keeping it hidden. She vaguely noted the fact that there had been no warning within the Force, but that thought faded when one of the trio managed to drop Jaden, and another had kicked Kam. One of the disciples turned towards Tionne, and then another. Tionne offered them a smile. "Care to dance?" she stated softly, as she spun, moving to put her at more even odds to deal with the pair. As she moved, her hidden lightsaber snapped to life at the last moment, her silver blade suddenly flaring to life, as she moved in on the first oponent, her blade spinning.



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  10. spycoder9 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Jul 23, 2008
    star 4
    IC: Tenel Ka Djo, Queen Mother of Hapes
    Kashyyyk, Shadowlands



    Catching her daughter with only one and a half arms was difficult, but Tenel Ka did it.

    They fell as gently as Tenel Ka could to the ground. Allana was pressed into her mother’s shoulder.

    Stay behind me,” She whispered as she sat Allana down on the ground. Is there never peace? Nowhere? Not even with friends?

    She felt it coming moments before it was there. She flicked Allana out of the way while yanking her lightsaber from her side. In the glimmer of a second before the repulsor-table Kyp had flung at her struck, she leaped in the air. The lightsabers she batted away with her own, though the table still managed to clip her foot on its descent to the ground.

    Off balance, she fell on her side. Her lightsaber tumbled from her fingertips.

    Allana!” She hissed through the pain, “Allana, stay hidden.” She had to protect her daughter. Allana couldn’t die now. Not after everything Jacen had done to save her. . .to save them both.

    Getting up on one elbow, she watched Kyp send Jag smoking to the ground. What is happening? What is happening? Tenel Ka kept repeating that same question as Kyp ran up to the Falcon. She forced herself to stand, pulling her lightsaber to her fingertips.

    No matter what else was happening, a single thought came to her mind.

    He tried to kill Allana.

    Her lightsaber thrummed to life.



    TAG: @Mitth_Fisto, @Sinrebirth
    Last edited by spycoder9, Jul 5, 2014
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  11. Skywalker_T-65 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Nov 19, 2009
    star 6
    IC: Mara Jade Skywalker
    Near Arkanis

    While Mara was still reeling from the sudden vanishing of Luke, she was not incapacitated by it. Years upon years of training allowed the former-Hand to push her emotions aside, and concentrate on the moment. And the moment, in this case, was helping Tam to deal with the 'Skippers. So Mara fired in unison with the other XJ-3, aiming at one of the 'Skips. Hopefully, the combined fire would be enough to overwhelm its voids.

    'Hopefully' in this case, because Mara soon had something to distract her. Namely, Luke's empty fighter shooting off all its torpedoes.

    That must have been Tam...

    That shouldn't have gotten that much attention from her...even with the gnawing hole in her heart. The simple reason it did, was that soon after firing its weapons...the fighter was obliterated by return fire. Another blade to her heart...another distraction she could not afford, not against this many Vong. Forcing herself to put the implications of any chance of finding out what had happened to Luke going up in flames, the Jedi Master instead formed back up with Tam.

    She watched the torpedoes fly out towards the Coralskippers, and began firing her blasters on stutter-fire at the enemy craft.

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  12. Chukles38 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Jun 10, 2005
    star 5
    IC: Cade Skywalker
    Aboard the Mynock, 137 ABY

    “Luke?” Cade’s weak whisper seemed to echo in his quarters. The brilliant scene he’d just witnessed impressed itself greatly upon him, leaving him feeling hollow for a moment. What had happened? He was sure that Luke was gone. How could he not be? Cade thought he’d have been happy, but Luke… well, Luke wasn’t so bad. At least he cared. Sure, it might have just been about Cade’s destiny, his legacy, but it was more than the young man had had in a very long time. He decided to try again. “Master Skywalker?” Nope, nothing. “Grandpa?” he tried, unsure of himself. Nope, definitely not that one. Just felt wrong. Never again. Never again. Would he never see Luke again, never hear his annoying voice telling him he should be more than what he was? Most important, perhaps, what the kriff did he have to run into death sticks for if not for Luke? Cade’s form slumped back into his bed as the gravity of the situation settled upon him. Luke had said something about the Force, terrible things. And then Mara--

    Interesting. Could Luke have known what Cade was thinking, what his next retort would be? He’d highly considered making a pass at Mara, just to irk Luke. He’d never tried it before, but it seemed like it might ruffle his ancestor’s feathers. Might have been rather awkward, he supposed, given that she’d been dead for quite some time. Then there’s the fact that he was descended from her. If the holos he’d seen could be trusted, she was a looker in her time though. Was that wrong to think? It had sounded like a good idea at the time. Given the misfortune that had so recently befallen Luke, the whole joke seemed in monumentally poor taste. Kark it all, Luke. Even in death, final and utter death, he ruined Cade’s fun. Even the levity of his thoughts couldn’t drive the profound sense of loss away, and Cade eyed his stash of death sticks. Maybe they could chase them away. Ah, kark it all.

    Intent had intended that Cade consume more than just one, but he found himself hesitating as his grief was effectively pushed aside. A shuddering and creaking from the Mynock tended to do that to him. Damnable Blue. She needed to do a better job of keeping this hunk of poodoo in the air. Syn’s voice came on the intercom a moment later, and Cade heard the panic. He found it rather funny, but he couldn’t decide if that was the sound or the swirling rainbows or colors that Syn was speaking at him from the speaker on the wall.

    “Cade, Blue, I don't care what you're doing right now but get up here now.”

    It was enough to break through Cade’s haze, and the roguish devil sprung from bunk and charged towards the cockpit. Already he could feel his body trying to burn away the death sticks, but there was only limited success just now. A rather silly grin stayed plastered to his face. Cade burst into the cockpit as Syn was commenting on impending death or some such. It was hard to take him seriously when he had bright, fine feathers for hair though. “Cade, take the controls!” Syn didn’t have to say it twice.

    As he slid into the pilot’s seat, Cade called across the cockpit, “My ship don’t crash, Syn. She goes down, you crashed her!” It took a moment for him to gauge the situation. Mostly because he had to convince himself that the yoke wasn’t, in fact, a wookie’s head. He blinked away the vision and went to work, checking the status of the ship as he veered, best he could, towards the spaceport. Steering was unresponsive, sluggish. She was off kilter. Something was wrong with the starboard wing. Cade checked some of the instruments for a moment. Ah, that would be it. They seemed to have lost the starboard wing. That would certainly do it. Internally, Cade had found a happy place, peace even, as he tried to keep the ship as level as possible. Externally, he was far less composed. “Syn!” He cried, shrill, accusatory, “What the kriff did you do to my starboard wing! I leave you alone for five minutes!” Cade didn’t really listen for a response though. He was far too focused on staying on course. In the distance, a white orb erupted, consuming all it touched. Cade had no idea what it was. Sith spit. It was unnerving though, almost as though it were made of nothing but emptiness. A void. Then it filled with a strange grinning face. Tendrils swirled out and evaporated into rainbows and mynocks. They then disappeared in a puff of smoke, which turned out to be something on fire, though what Cade didn’t care to try and find out. This, this image, was far worse than the void. He wished it would go back to being nothingness. the face began to chuckle at him, presumably mocking his attempts to find safe refuge. Yeah, this was definitely worse.

    Cade kept the Mynock on course, or at least as much as he could. He pulled out every trick he could think of, even reached for the Force, but that was coming to him sluggishly, the death sticks still lingering in his body. He’d always been told those things would kill him. Didn’t think it’d be like this. “Buckle up indeed.” He muttered, mostly to himself. He reflected, idly, that he hadn’t strapped in when he sat down. Well, no time for that. Take what you’re given, right pop? Cade knew he was doing all that could be done, but the Mynock still careened towards the surface of Lok. He might do this. He could do this. Things might just be alright. But he doubted it.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth
    Last edited by Chukles38, Jul 5, 2014
  13. The Great No One Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Jun 4, 2005
    star 8
    This combined post brought to you by Sinrebirth and The Great No One.

    IC: Jacen Solo/ Kavan Surface/ Hapes Cluster


    Sitting in the cockpit of a stealthx, Jacen Solo was completely lost in his thoughts. With Luke so suddenly gone from this mortal coil, it meant that much of what he'd done was now pointless. Keeping his uncle form falling again had been what set him on his current path, Allana had just guaranteed that he couldn't turn from it no matter what he wanted. But Luke being gone... Well, it changed everything. And Jacen Solo, the most powerful Force user left in the galaxy, had no idea how to fix it.

    He didn't know how long he sat there before the beeping of his datapad finally caught his attention. Jumping slightly, he looked at it blankly. The entire galaxy was in peril, and he was the only one who knew it. It was an incredible weight to have on him on top of the situation that he had created with Lumiya's aid, and suddenly Jacen felt very tired.

    Lethargically tabbing to Mara's message he read it, then read it again. This wasn't what she wanted to say. Jacen knew how much his aunt had wanted to kill him before, and now he regretted lying to her as he did want to talk. Regret was a strange feeling for him now, as he'd had to be so certain of all of his actions since agreeing to become Lumiya's apprentice that regret had been sacrificed, a small piece of his humanity, for the greater good. She was right about it, he knew it, but it didn't mean that he didn't, paradoxically, regret the necessity at the time.

    Popping the canopy, Jacen jumped down. He had everything he would need to deal with his aunt, regardless of where she chose to fight him. With just the Force he had everything he would need really, the extra things he carried, the vibroblade or poison darts, were overkill. But he believed in being prepared for all contingencies. All my grand plans failing, and my mom and uncle aren't around to fix it anymore. They were the only ones who could have, this entire thing has become such a mess. Scowling at his self-pity, as he realized that's all it was, Jacen started walking. He could still fix this. If removing Mara was the first step in ensuring his daughter's futre, then so be it.

    *****

    Every step he took felt like it was guided by the hand of the Force, as though this confrontation was pre-ordained by some greater entity, some god of a lesser religion. It was a strange feeling, knowing that every success and failure in his relatively short life had lead him to this moment. It was almost as if he was some fickle novelist's favorite punching back what with all of the pain and suffering he had been through. It was a silly notion, and Jacen set it aside. His path was his own, and nothing, not even the Force, was going to force him into taking actions he had not chosen of his own free will.

    Finding himself at the entrance to a cave Jacen stopped. He knew that Mara would have an advantage in there simply due to her smaller stature. While still confident, he had no desire to go in there unless there absolutely no alternative. Calling out, he said “Mara! I know you're in there. I'm not going to fight you. Not unless you force the issue, and that isn't something a Jedi would do.” He grew slightly quieter as he continued, “I should know, having been one.” There, it was his first open admission that he had left that life behind. Now he just had to wait for her to come out. Either that, or that feeling of destiny was wrong and he was going to feel like a fool very shortly.

    A snort sounded from the cave entrance, and he knew that he hadn't been wrong. That would have been entirely too embarrassing at the moment. As Mara stepped out of the cave mouth, he noted that her lightsaber had not been drawn yet. At least she's willing to talk. That's something. Maybe this situation could be salvaged. Maybe. She spoke, derision soaking her voice. “So what are you now? Have you finally decided?” She paused for a moment, her tone turning bitter. “Because murderer wasn't good enough a title?” He knew that last should have stung, but with everything that he had done Jacen honestly couldn't have cared less anymore. There were far bigger things at stake than having killed someone. Or multiple someones.

    It didn't take Jacen long to realize that this point in time was a crossroads, and that what he decided to do here would not only decide his legacy, but the entire future of the galaxy. He'd already marred the title of hero, earned during the Yuzhan Vong war, but that wasn't something he cared about so much anymore. It was something he had never been comfortable with, and was what had driven him to the five year journey that had ultimately lead him here. Although he supposed that everything that he had become was really Vergere's fault, as she had broken and then remade him in her own image.

    Sighing, Jacen looked down at his hands, which were palm up in front of him. It wasn't hard to imagine the blood on them, and how much it would bother most sentients. At least the decent ones. “We've all killed Mara. I just did it preemptively. I'd think you'd understand the concept given what you were.” Looking up from his hands, Jacen focused his attention on her.

    Not letting her speak, he continued. “What I am now doesn't matter, what started me on this path is gone. Luke...” It wasn't easy to say this, as the man had been pivotal to everything, just like he had been ever since he left Tatooine. “Luke is gone. And suddenly I find myself a bit lost.” All he could do was give her information a bit at a time, make her invest in the conversation. Maybe avoid killing her. Maybe.

    It turned out that he had made a mistake somewhere, but that had been happening more than he'd have liked. That was the problem with other people, you simply couldn't predict how they'd react when emotional. And Mara certainly was that now. Anger flared across her face, and she practically spat out, “I did what I did out of a misguided sense of order. I can't see how killing Luke, or Fett's daughter, made matters more orderly.” She paused, seemingly trying to center herself again and continued more calmly. “Let alone Lumiya killing the Bothans and driving them to war... Or poor Nelani. Were they all necessary for order?”

    Mara took another step forward, edging towards his left. It was a painfully obvious attempt to flank him, but he ignored it for the moment. She was still talking after all. “I don't care about your stinking reasons for starting down your path. I can guess it had something to do with a vision, like it did with the Killiks, and you've gone and convinced yourself whatever you do is better than the vision. Because you're an idiot with a god complex.” She snarled out this last, and it would have actually hurt Jacen a few years ago. Now he ignored it. What was done was done. He knew things were at least better than they had been. Or would have been, had Luke not been erased from the script.

    He had not really expected her to accuse him of killing Luke. It had been just as surprising to him as it was to her, but there was no way she'd been able to sense that blocked off as he was from everyone. It was also fairly obvious that emotional as she was, Mara simply was not thinking clearly. He couldn't have killed Luke, as she'd been attacking him when it happened. Everything else, well... he'd done it, and denying any of it would only cause more problems. Instead he addressed the single most important thing she said. “I didn't kill Luke. How could I have done that? You were right on top of me when he disappeared. I was just as shocked as you obviously still are. It...” He scowled. He would have to try something else. Maybe honesty would work. If he could bring himself to do it. “Did Luke ever tell you about the Dark Man sitting on a throne of balance?” His voice was slightly hesitant, as this would take the conversation down paths he had no desire for it to go.

    Watching, he saw Mara purse her lips, obviously thinking things through. It was just as obvious that he wasn't going to like her conclusions. Her face grew cold, and she took another step to the side. This time he turned with her, deciding it was better to keep Mara in front of him. “Of course he did. It came into existence when Lumiya messed with us about the time Nelani died. Luke thought it was Lumiya, laughing at him in a male voice, but I think we all knew it was you by the end. A dark man on a golden throne.” As her face had gone cold, so had her voice. He knew that wasn't necessarily a good thing, but at least it suggested that she was no longer being guided by her rage. That was something at least. It didn't stop him from shaking his head in frustration.

    Why does she have to be so obtuse about this? I wanted Luke to live. I wanted to save my daughter. Sighing softly, Jacen realized what he was going to have to do. There was no way mere words were going to convince Mara of anything, she would suspect everything he said. But if she could sense his thoughts as well... Even he couldn't fake that. At least, not that he was aware of. Knowing this was going to surprise at least a few people, Jacen dropped his mental shields and became visible in the Force again. He winced slightly at the absolute shock and betrayal he was getting from his sister. There was joy at being able to feel each other again, even in him, but it was a very painful reminder of what they no longer were. Surprisingly he still felt love coming from her, which was something he never would have anticipated was still possible. Maybe... But not, he couldn't allow himself to finish that thought. There was no time for maybes.

    Noting the look of shock on Mara's face, a slight smile touched his lips. Didn't see that one coming, now did you Aunt? Taking little joy in his victory, knowing how important it was to be as close to completely honest as he could, he started talking softly. “I'm not the Dark Man, Mara. He has tattoos all over his face, which I don't have and never would. Actually, I started doing this because of what I saw after Luke talked to me about it. I saw the Dark Man killing Luke, and hoped I could find a way to stop it. Then...” He froze. Could he actually admit to this, put his daughter in danger? Betray Tenal Ka? He realized that there was little choice at the moment, and it gutted him to put either of them in danger. The pain of what he was about to say would be radiating in the Force, and he noted Jaina's confusion.

    Sighing heavily, Jacen Solo gave away a secret he had sworn he would take to his grave. “Then I saw my daughter at his side. With Luke's body at their feet. I couldn't let that happen, couldn't let her fall under his sway. My hope was that by unifying the galaxy by... strengthening it that he could be stopped.” He turned slightly, looking at the ground away from her, obviously hurting. “Now... Now the galaxy is in even more danger. Luke was the key to everything Mara, killing him served no purpose. I needed him to live. If Lumiya had anything to do with his death I'll kill her myself.” He was doing his best to project how honest he was being, hoping she wouldn't assume him capable of obfuscating that. It was the first time he had let himself be sensed like this in years, and she would know how serious he was because of that. Or so he hoped. It wasn't like she'd allowed him to sense her, which would have been a nice reciprocation. So much for being a family.

    Her continued circling drew his attention, and he took a step backwards, away from the cave. If that was where she had wanted to fight him, it was the last place Jacen wanted to be. The gaze she fixed him with was chilling, or would have been were he the Jacen of even a year ago. It was obvious she didn't want to believe him, and his spirits fell. “You can't win me over without telling me the rest. What daughter? Who was it with? Why did you keep it hidden from us?” Her face hardened slightly. “And how does it follow that you need to ally with the karking Dark Lady of the Sith? Let alone the rest of it? Coordinating with Lumiya and Alema to kill us?” She was even with him now, and tried to pierce him with her jade colored eyes. “Well?” It wasn't a question, it was a demand, just like all the rest had been.

    Struggling to control his anger at the particular situation she had mentioned, Jacen couldn't top a scowl from crossing his face. Ben had really botched that situation. It wasn't because he was on his heels that Jacen took another step back, even though he was. It was mainly because he still disliked the idea of her getting behind him. He knew she had come to kill him, and giving her any opportunity seemed to be a very bad idea.

    Taking a deep breath, Jacen prepared to sacrifice one of the very few things that mattered to him. Something he could never get back. Bracing himself and closing his eyes, he knew that having a galaxy for his daughter to grow up in was even more important than his love for Allana and her mother. “Tenal Ka.” The name came out in a hoarse, painful voice. Mara would understand all of the implications of that name, and why he'd kept his relationships there hidden. The sheer amount of danger within the tangled web of Hapan politics was legendary galaxy wide.

    Opening his eyes, and focusing again, Jacen cleared his throat before continuing. “As for the rest... Have you ever started doing something, taken one step towards something because it seemed the most logical and efficient way of dealing with something? Because you couldn't see any alternatives, or other way to achieve your goal? And then realized you had to take another, and then another, and when you look back you can't even see where you came from? Lumiya claimed to want to help, that she didn't want the Dark Man to come to power either. She claimed she could help me stop him. The galaxy as it was couldn't deal with another Sith, now...” He frowned, Jaina getting far more out of this conversation than he wanted her to. He would have to deal with that later, one way or another. “I haven't tried to have you killed. Ben didn't do what I expected, and the entire situation spiraled out of everyone's control.” Ben is far too intelligent for his own good sometimes. That was certainly one of them.

    A clock was ticking in the back of his mind, and the fear he'd felt when he saw the galaxy being covered, the stars winking out one by one, came back to him full force. Sighing softly, Jacen said in a small tired voice, “I'm scared of what's coming Aunt Mara.” He sounded like a teenager again for a moment, but managed to regain control of himself. “Without Luke... I don't know that it can be stopped.” He knew what was coming was far worse than the Emperor, and that thought terrified him. And this was not a fear that lead to power, it was debilitating because he had no plans, and no idea how to even begin to formulate one. “If we kill each other here, everything is doomed. Your son, my daughter, everything either one of us cared about will be snuffed out as though it had never been, and whatever happens here will have sealed it.” He met her gaze, letting his fear show through a little. It was the most convincing thing he could think of to do, as almost nothing scared him anymore. But this... How could even he face the end of the galaxy?


    TAG: @Sinrebirth
  14. Chukles38 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Jun 10, 2005
    star 5
    IC: Doctor Quillan Herdstrom
    [1:19 P.M.] 108 ABY: The Offices of Dr. Herdstrom, Arkanian Sanatorium, Arkania

    Quill-ey, eh? Quillan supposed she’d heard worse. If she had thought that Mirai meant it in offense, the doctor might have been upset. As it was, she smiled a fond smile. The Twi’lek was a sweet girl, and Quillan would miss her. That was not near enough a reason to try and hold her in this place. For all it’s faults, the Sanatorium could be a place of healing, relaxing even, but it was not somewhere that Quillan would wish to stay for a prolonged period of time. If not for her own agenda and ambitions, Quillan would have sought out a cushy job, somewhere in a prestigious Alliance hospital, with large pay checks and lush offices. She certainly had the qualifications to build it for herself, if she couldn’t nab it right out the gate.

    Still, things were tolerable at the Sanatorium, and Quillan was learning much in the patients she had seen thus far. She’d make a name for herself, that was sure. She could already see the pieces falling into place. Now there was just to wait, and work. The working she didn’t mind. The waiting was intolerable. Such thoughts shouldn’t take away from her attention to Mirai, though. Recent history couldn’t have presented a more important time for the girl, and Quillan should be respectful of that. She did have a meeting to get to, however, and the administrator was not a man to abide waiting.

    “Of course I will, Mirai. You’ve been a joy, and I would dare say I count you as a friend. I’m so happy for the progress you’ve made.” Quillan’s smile was genuine, reflecting in her voice as well as her eyes. “We’ll have to keep in touch, you and I. Perhaps you can visit, or when I take a break from this wretched place, I can hunt you down. We have some fun times ahead of us, I think.” Beeping emanated from Quillan’s chronometer, drawing her gaze for a moment. “With that, I have to go. I’m meeting with the administrator, to mention your release to him. I think he’ll be quite supportive. Just remember what we’ve worked on, how we’ve made progress. Most importantly, take it easy. You’re on the right track. It’s a slow process, but you’ll do just fine if you keep one foot in front of the other.” The girl was sure not to need more of Quillan’s pep talks though. The doctor laughed softly at herself, shaking her head in embarrassment. “Would you look at me? A walking cliche if ever I heard one. Anyways, dear, why don’t you head back to your room, and I’ll let you know what he says tomorrow. I’m certain we’ll have something to celebrate.” Quillan smiled encouraging at the young twi’lek as she stood to gather her things. This meeting was important, though not nearly just about Mirai. It had to go well, or her research might have been for nought.

    TAG: @Thrawn1786

    *_*_*_*_*_*_*_*

    IC: Doctor Quillan Herdstrom
    [12:57 P.M.] 108 ABY: Maximum Security Medical Facility Operating Chamber, Arkanian Sanatorium, Arkania

    The past hour’s events had frazzled Quillan, though not for the reasons some might assume. Here, subject 25379 was laying on the table, perhaps in highly critical condition. He was more important than anyone realised. He’s why she was here. Without him, her research was nothing. Her plans were for naught. The doctor had berated the surgeon when challenged after 25739’s outburst. Finally, the medical staff began doing their job. 25739 was true to his word, and was now stable and sedated. At this point, it seemed that the patient would be just fine, but it was difficult to tell.

    Some time ago Quillan had noticed 83247 come in and settle himself. Quillan thought little of it, though. He was behaving, and she could certainly handle him if he decided not to. He didn’t intimidate her like she assumed he thought he might. Perhaps Quillan’s little display in the interview room had set the record straight for him. It was an idle wonder, however, what happened to the two orderlies that had been escorting him. She figured she knew, but there seemed little point in pressing the issue. It didn’t take long to confirm her suspicions. The orderlies came in, looking quite upset and intent on revenge. Quillan waved them off and, with great reluctance, they settled in a corner and darted looks at 83247 that left little to be discerned of their intentions.

    Time was growing short, however, and Quillan could no longer hover over 25739. She had other appointments to attend to. “Doctor, I trust you’ll take the best of care of my patient. See him back to his cell when he’s stable, yes? I have appointments to see to. I will be monitoring his progress, however. Good day, sir.” Quillan nodded before striding next to the two disgruntled orderlies.

    “And you two, see 83247 back to his cell, will you?” Her voice was quiet as she addressed them, but still her ton was stern. She expected to be obeyed. “This time, make sure he gets there. I’ll ensure he behaves.”

    Lastly, she turned towards 83247 and stood before him, arms folded as she examined him sternly. Even though the chiss sat upon the bed, Quillan was still a hair shorter than him. “These men are going to see you back, now. I trust you’ll behave for me? I have some things to take care of. I’ll see you tomorrow, I’m sure.” Quillan was certain that 83247 would behave, at least for now. If he didn’t, it wouldn’t matter much. He wouldn’t get very far on his own. But enough of this meeting, Mirai was waiting, and Quillan had more to do today than she cared for.

    TAG: @The Great No One , @Shira A'dola , @Sinrebirth
  15. Mitth_Fisto Chosen One

    Member Since:
    Sep 29, 2005
    star 6
    IC: Jaina Solo
    Kashyyyk, Shadowlands

    It seemed that Kyp had truly lost it. She dashed after him once she stabilized from her landing, it was taking her longer than normal as her body protested to the abuse when it was just recovering from killing her brother. . . no, Caedus. Jacen had died long ago.

    She took a brief moment to see what was happening to the others as she closed in on Kyp again, he seemed to be heading for the Falcon. If her parents were in there she was truly afraid what he might do to her father after seeing what he had done to 'Amelia'. As she closed in and tried to try and get a solid knockout blow, Kyp surprised her by using the Force to spin around for a chopping strike at her side. It was only by her own use of the Force to speed herself up a little that she was able to pull her arm over her side and just begin to brace it with her opposing arm in time to soften the blow.

    Ribs jarred and arm screaming in protest she went down, the pain was intense and she felt like she had nearly forgotten how to breath for a moment. In that moment as she collected herself from the ground a little slower than her pop-up normal. In part due to her injuries and another from her incredulous moments where her mind did not want to accept this that she saw from the corner of her eye the table flung at Tenel Ka and Amelia, Jag getting in a blow which was infuriating as she had not done so yet, and then Kyp slicing Jags chest. She had feared before that the two would come to blows, but yet she had not had such fears for a while, and at these actions she closed her eyes before hurtling herself at Kyp. With focus she looked at his body, saw it in the force, and saw the myriad of weakness that would cause part or whole sections to crumble.

    With blade ignited she went in. Too many lives were being put at risk, and though it made her feel hallow she could not loose anyone else today. No one else.

    But she might have to loose Kyp, she was the Sword of the Jedi, and if she could merely paralyze him or neutralize him unconscious she would, but she would not hesitate to kill him. She would not hesitate to stop another Caedus before more died. She knew better. No matter how hard it hurt.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth, @spycoder9
  16. Imperial_Hammer Manager Emeritus: RPFs

    Member Since:
    Sep 25, 2004
    star 5
    IC: Gilad Pellaeon
    Location: Near Arkanis

    The whir and buzz of battle has a way of playing with one's perception of reality. True, Pellaeon had been a virtual institution of the Imperial Navy all his life. Yet, his skill set was slightly different than the one Miat had asked to do. Pellaeon was used to seeing battles from a different perspective, from the calm of a steady Star Destroyer bridge. While the stabilizers were doing their job, he could still feel the occasional G-force sneak through as the shuttle did its frenzied dance of survival. And he didn't particularly care for it. He was far too old to be caught up in these crazy situations.

    Ah well. Yes, dogfighting was different. But thankfully Pellaeon was not completely incompetent at them either. Although he was not a star pupil in it, he did take a class in the Academy on starfighter training. And beyond that, well, there was always his fine-honed sense of duty, courage, and overall toughness that steeled hm when the going got tough.

    Putting everything else out of his head, he nodded to Miatt and jogged off to the rear of the shuttle. It was a new and heavily armored spacecraft... something Pellaeon was thankful for at this moment. The rear turret was an exterior mounted gun. While it had a gunner platform, allowing its user to target with their eyes through its transparisteel dome. It was also equipped with an immersion headset, allowing its user to sit safely inside the shuttle and use a far more helpful heads-up display.

    Pellaeon chose the latter (though he could have easily chosen the former), and found himself staring through a high-definition sensor array mounted right below the gun's scope. A few moments of experimenting and he found the gun's fire-settings, which is shifted the stutter. It was one of the most trusted ways frustrating Vong dovin basals.

    As various projected trajectory lines sprang up in his HUD, he started marking targets and begin manually following the coral skippers. His swivel seat spun and turned as he kept after the corralskippers, strafing them without mercy.

    Like most military men, Pellaeon was now focused on this thing and this thing alone. All that mattered was survival, all that mattered was defeating the enemy. He would keep on defending himself and his shuttle until they were out of danger.

    It was so primal a feeling, like the most natural thing in the world. This is what happened when the fighting got too close. Men tend to become more base. It was why Pellaeon preferred the bridge of a Star Destroyer. Many young pilots often mention they enjoyed the rush. Made them feel alive. But Pellaeon always privately disagreed. Death can be exhilarating too.

    A hit connected to a particularly stubborn coral skipper hounding the rear of the shuttle and Pellaeon continued. He had one job to do, and he was going to do it very well. He did not come this far to die out here to these pirates.

    Tag: @Sinrebirth, @Skywalker_T-65
    Last edited by Imperial_Hammer, Jul 6, 2014
  17. Sinrebirth SWC and EUC Forum Moderator

    Manager
    Member Since:
    Nov 15, 2004
    star 7
    Chapter Three

    IC: Jaden Korr
    Asylum, 1000 ABY

    'Damn,' Jaden Korr cursed, bouncing a fist off the display. He cast his eye over the various caskets in the cavern, rhythmically shaking from the orbital bombardment. 'We're losing some of them.'

    He raised his fist again, and Valin cupped it, lowering it softly, 'Calm yourself, Jaden.'

    'You're not the one who had their life hijacked by this. This is literally our last chance.'

    'Strictly speaking we all had our lives hijacked, Yammka changed everything for everyone.'

    'If only we knew what happened fifty years after Yavin...' Jaden trailed off, his frustration rising.

    Valin shrugged, turning back to the display, hands dancing over the touch keyboard, projected a few metres above the actual desk. 'We couldn't get close enough through the temporal anomaly. Jaina and Tenel Ka was as close as we could get, on the past side, and on the future I couldn't find anyone who was involved in Abeloth or any of the other parameters.

    'So what you're saying is that we've lost nearly nine years after side of the event. Nearly two decades irrevocably lost?' Jaden felt a sinking feeling.

    'Unless we find what out happened and restore everything the precise way it was, yes,' Valin confirmed. 'Who are we on the verge of losing?'

    Jaden looked back. 'We have the crazy foursome for the most part, following the Design. And Jacen, Stark, and Zawahul. We just about have a bead on C'Boath and Lenea popped back up a moment ago. But that's about it.'

    'I'm still not happy about C'Boath.'

    'Neither am I, but he fit the parameters and I think I got through to him like I did to Stark.'

    Valin took a deep breath. No Anakin or Karrde let alone Jaden's old Master Kyle, but at least they had Valin's old Master Tionne. Without Thrawn he didn't know how they would cope, especially without Karrde or the bounty hunter duo Hob Bob and HK-47. The others they did not know in person - Cade, Lenea or Lora, but they had them only just about, but being as they were courting the edge of time itself, it was feasible they would lose some of them before the finale.

    If not all.

    Valin cast an eye at the sensors, which showed the automated minefield, shields, defence platforms and drone TIEs and droid fighters, all centuries old, contending with Turbulent-class Star Destroyers, Sith Dragons, Republic Sun Destroyers, and Yuuzhan Vong Miid ro'ik, all clearing the way for the Eclipse-class Star Dreadnought as it escorted the Death Star through the debris field of the second and third outer planets - they had ignited the planetbusters on either side of the invading fleet, and had caught the point Kor Chokk 'grand cruiser' and a host of the Katana Dreadnaughts-come-Assault Frigates in that, luckily. The very magnetic atmosphere of the planet was dispersing all but the worst of the long range bombardment, and the solar system was in a gravity sinkhole caused by the binary stars; it was impossible to jump directly in.

    It was the perfect fortress.

    But Valin knew behind that the vessels that had served Yammka for a millennium were his modern behemoths, the three star system killers based off the Sun Crusher, World Devastators and Galaxy Gun; the Yammka-class, Divinity-class and Infinite-class Cores, each the size of a planet and all but immune to modern weapons... The Rebellion had only managed to destroy one because they had ignited a supernova in a tight star cluster with a stolen quantum torpedo.

    They were rapidly running out of time.

    @Ramza, @RandomComments, @HanSolo29, @WINKWINK, @Thrawn1786


    OOC: This is not as a replacement to your last post, just as a nudge. If I've been informed of your absence, you needn't worry too much. I’m pretty casual about this but the plot needed to cover itself...
    Random Comments and Mitth_Fisto like this.
  18. Sinrebirth SWC and EUC Forum Moderator

    Manager
    Member Since:
    Nov 15, 2004
    star 7
    IC: Lylithe Kya
    Nal Hutta, orbit 5 ABY

    Lylithe lost track of Kyle in the confusion, but didn't lose track of the TIE flight the Sentinel had sent down to strafe the Corellian quarter, which had popped up, with a shuttle of all things, seemingly lying in wait in the Twi'lek quarter, to harass the rear of the corvette. With little time to prepare to the dual threat, the corvette's shields dropped and the engines took damage, forcing the Captain to call out grimly as Jan rushed to the escape pods.

    'Abandon ship.'
    ---
    The surface

    Before Anakin Skywalker was Darth Vader, he was a tinkerer of droids. At times, he irritated Mace Windu as he littered the Jedi Temple with them, and as an adult, tweaked his astromech and starfighters to an inch of their design. When he ascended as a Sith Lord, he became the master of his own cyborg body, and eventually crossed the line from mechanical to biological, culminating in the experimentation on Galen Marek, codenamed Starkiller, and the further dabbling in the heresies of Darth Plagueis.

    So when he reached Starkiller he pumped him full of midichlorians, combining the logic of Yinchorri genetic immunity to mind tricks, the concept of natural Force uses by vornskr and a host of other sciences, before turning to technique. When Starkiller thrust out with a Force push, it appeared as if the literal force of his blow shattered their atoms, but in point of fact he was applying the shatterpoint on a large scale, breaking the basic magnetic field that held together matter. With metals laced through his genetic code, Starkiller was a literal conductor, and so his lightning bolts were amplified in a manner which was far beyond many others. But, fundamentally, it was technique or the material of his shaping and if you knew it, you could undo it. And so Vader faked his defeat on the Death Star to allow his toy weapon to strike at the Emperor, in the vain hope he would succeed, and then allowed himself to be captured on Kamino so his Dark Apprentice could track him to Dantooine and undermine the Alliance's relationship with Starkiller, a twister repeat of what had occurred with his former Padawan Ahsoka had left the Order when Barriss Offee framed her for murder and terrorism... Successful, Starkiller had departed the Alliance after the death of his Master, Kota, at the hands of the Dark Apprentice...

    In short, he was not powerful, he was possessing technique.

    And so when, Vima felt a colossal and vibrant surge of energy as Boba Fett turned to face them, she looked to Stark as his hands flung outward, hitting Fett hard. And so, because this was the Fett that relied upon durasteel, and this was a clone that was at the height of his paranoia and fear, his potential was tapped, and Boba Fett vanished into so many atoms as his body was flung back, the shock of the blow crashing into the end of the alleyway, shattering it, hurling out masonry as the building the wall was supporting collapsed, pulling apart surrounding buildings as the larger monolith caught smaller ones, which in turn widened but lessened the impact of it's fall. Still, the turbaned man vanished into the rubble with Dray's body, and a brick skipped across Vima's forehead and sent her tumbling back as Stark leapt into the air, a wave of debris and concussion rippling up to toss him backwards...

    ... Just as the Eridain went down, pursued by TIE fighters and the Sentinel-class shuttle which had popped up in it's rear blind spot and stitched apart it's engines.

    The captain managed a pass of the Corellian sector, spitting four escape pods, before going down several kilometers away in a fireball that turned the air all around into a mass of humidity and then ash and screams.

    After the haze settled, Lylithe Kya and Jan Ors, and a handful of other bridge crewmembers, climbed from the bridge escape pod in a jumble of limbs, concussions and minor wounds and scrapes... Just as the shuttle set down and deposited it's complement of troopers down, promptly launching a salvo of weapon fire into the milling crowd, into the crew, burning holes through walls, speeder and people alike.

    When Vima came to, she shook with a terrible fear, blaster fire ringing out around her, and shuddered, looking for Stark but knowing what he had done was unnatural and it had nearly killed her. Lylithe Kya spied her in the rubble, and popped down beside her to pull the old woman under cover, as Jan exchanged shots from bridge the rapidly vanishing cover of an upturned speeder, barking into her comlink at Kyle for help, any help whatsoever.

    The last two TIE fighters of the flight held position overhead, felling buildings in an effort to encircle the escape pods and allow for the troopers to collect the majority of the prisoners... It was not just a trap, but an organised one at that...

    @Ramza, @greyjedi125

    ---
    IC: Kam Solusar
    Tatooine, 14 ABY

    Jaden went down, Kam was caught in a fierce duel, and Tionne was down one, or, more strictly speaking, one of hers was in half, completely caught by surprise by her sudden strike. Her remaining opponent slashed his hand across himself, throwing the couch across the room at her, before pumping a lightning bolt into it to cause the obstruction to be a burning exploding one. Kam kicked his opponent to the ground, meaning Tionne's opponent couldn't take advantage of her potential distraction as he threw a bolt at Kam, giving his opponent the chance to jump back to his feet and thrust out a hand at Tionne, throwing a Force blow at her, just as Kam himself deflected the blow with his own hand movement, allowing part of the bolt he was holding firm to roll up his arm, a flurry of movement which lasted a mere moment in the flow of combat.

    As Kam went staggering back, his opponent leapt into the fray, not a moment before Tionne's stepped forward also, knowing all he had to do was keep her busy long enough for Kam to die, an overhand chop with both hands on the hilt.

    All of a sudden, their danger sense seemed to catch up, and had they the presence of mind to note what had happened, it would have noted that Pedric Cuf had scrabbled on hands and knees and fled, just as the major-domo was screaming about his master being dead and the artefact was missing.

    Which were both, respectively, distractions that Tionne may be unable to afford.

    @Ktala
    ---
    IC: Maal Lah
    Near Arkanis, deep space 30 ABY

    Regardless how convincing the Supreme Overlord was, the engagement was not going well. His frigate was caught between two parties, and his fighter craft had yet to take down Pellaeon's shuttle. 'Ready the dovin basils for light speed travel on my mark.'

    --
    Tam felt a spike in the Force as Master Skywalker's X-wing went up in flames, and he winced. He hadn't consulted Mara before using his strategy, but they were in a bad position, and they didn't have a lot of time.

    He had no choice but to refocus. Mara's splinter fire was catching the skips well, and they were jostling with positioning their voids to catch both the shots and the torpedoes, hoping their plasma shots would keep Tam busy. But Tam deftly avoided the shots and opened fire, full fire shots, taking down one, two and three skips, halving the original number with ease.

    And then the torpedoes met up with the skips, more than half of which were gobbled up by the front voids, and two by the frigates own voids - which were unperturbed by the stream of Mara's fire and Tam's hammer shots that missed skips - but one final torpedo managed to loop around and impact at the rear of the skip formation after it passed them. The four remaining skips became two, one of which was damaged, and they themselves were turning a long parabola, going beneath Tam and Mara so the frigate could hurl a whole broadside at them, plasma balls and grutchins and magma missiles, a grutchin grabbing at Tam's fighter and sending him spiralling away to clear himself of the problem and leaving Mara to face the frigate alone - and the two skips angling up from beneath her.

    On the other side for the frigate, matters were going better, generally. Pellaeon had the satisfaction of seeing his target take the hit and spin away, clearly damaged, allowing Miat Temm to divert all energy to the forward shields and win an exchange with the second skip pulling off a suicidal head-on. With Vitor Reige out dueling his opponent, they were nearly clearly when the frigate latched a dovin basil onto them, and they were suddenly flying through the gravity equivalent of mud.

    Handily, however, a flicker of pseudo light occurred in Pellaeon's line of sight and he would recognise an Imperial-class Star Destroyer, the Interrogator. With his keen eye he would be able to tell it was damaged from the way it turned, but it was mostly internal and not external, which could cause some curiosity - just how did you damage a Star Destroyer from the inside? And why had it decanted so far from them?

    'Masters Skywalker, Admiral Pellaeon,' said a gravelly voice. 'This is Brandl. We will be in firing range in two minutes, bear with us.' The ship turned, ponderously, as if being delicate with itself. But following from that transmission the skip ineffectually chasing Reige broke off and lunged for Pellaeon's shuttle, putting all discretionary power into the dovin basil propelling it. Reige for his part was too busy dodging a sudden enthusiasm from the frigate gunners, which had redoubled it's effort to nab him. Miat had already turned the shuttle towards the Interrogator, unilaterally deciding to cut down the time until it was in range herself, shifting all her remaining shield power back to the rear.

    'Admiral, if I could trouble you again?' Miat nearly winced at how glib she sounded, but Pellaeon would understand.

    @Imperial Hammer, @Skywalker_T-65
    ---
    IC: Mara Jade
    Kavan surface 41 ABY, early

    Lumiya had control of Ship again, circling the confrontation at maximum height, aiming to keep themselves above the fray and undetectable. Ben was heading as fast as he could for Hapes, unable to detect any of his opponents nor mother.

    Lumiya had cast out Ship's sensors to listen to the conversation, and was unsurprised by what she heard. Darth Krayt would, or in a version of the future, succeed. She, too, had seen it in the oracle on Korriban, but was somewhat surprised that Jacen had seen it too - he had only mentioned Luke's vision. How curious. Mara seemed to be buying it as much as Lumiya would expect of her old colleague, and when Jacen opened himself to the Force, it threw her entirely.

    This was unbecoming of her future Dark Lord. She was curiously angry about being played, but she had played him, so fair was fair. But where was Mara going to take this, she wondered.

    --
    Kavan, surface

    Mara Jade Skywalker was debating it. That much was true. Hidden behind Jacen's own technique, she was an island unto herself and she felt it. No Luke. No Ben. No Leia. Ben, he would come back, she hoped. But then she'd need to embrace the void in the Force, where her husband had been.

    And Jacen Solo was busy telling her why he had aligned with a Sith, why he had conspired to make himself Chief of State, why he had torn the galaxy asunder. He'd done it for his daughter. A daughter that he could not trust his family with knowledge of the existence of. They'd all thought it was because he was selfless... But it wasn't. How could Luke stop a threat that he knew nothing of? How could Jacen weaken a galaxy in the midst of recovery in the face of a threat so immense? On the basis of his last vision he had countenanced genocide of the Killiks. On this one? The devastation of his family. He'd tried to kill his parents, manipulated his nephew, and then decided to arrange his aunt and uncle crossing paths with Lumiya, and then abandoned them to her and Alema Rar...

    ... In short, he was all but a Sith.

    His thinking was already irrevocably altered, in the mindset where he could sacrifice anyone with sufficient justification.

    And so, standing beside him, a few steps from the cave entrance to the underground city she had found, with their respective StealthXs behind them, she held out her hand, palm up, offering it to him. 'Fine,' said Mara. 'I can see that you -'

    And then she threw her hand up, yanking the ground beneath his feet and spinning towards him, throwing her arm around as she did and grabbing and dislodging the roof of the cave to throw at him, free hand unclipping and igniting her lightsaber. 'Need to die.'

    It was on, and she knew it would go badly, but she would not let up in this.

    Because Jacen Solo still had to die.

    @The Great No One, @WINKWINK
    ---
    IC: Kyp Durron
    Kashyyyk, 41 ABY

    Kyp cast his mind forward into the Falcon's circuitry and began to ready it to launch, even going far enough to ready the weapons to destroy the Lady Luck so not-Ben and the others couldn't pursue him.

    Such was his focus that he nearly didn't feel the warning that Jaina was launching for him, but he put the full force of his lightsaber into the swing to meet her blow, the Force strengthening his block. But Jaina's lunge was too vicious, and her Force was such that he flew back, rolling over himself, his lightsaber going a different direction to him. Landing facing Jaina with his back on the ramp of the Luck, he threw out both hands and hurtled the Force through the wooden platform, undoing it and so the unconscious bodies of Lowbacca and Ben began to drop, while Amelia screamed, a gap opening beneath her as the log platform came undone. Jag managed to uncurl from the lightsaber wound on his chest to grab Mara's lightsaber, which had fallen near him, but Kyp was paying little attention, twirling his hand to break the locks on the Falcon's bottom turret and triggering it at the party, doing the same to the upper turret for completeness.

    With that distraction, he scrabbled to his feet and hoped Jaina and Tenel Ka would be too busy while he stole the Lady Luck.

    And headed to where he needed to go. Where the fake people did not rein.

    @Mitth-Fisto, @spycoder9
    ---
    IC: Bacora Sel
    Rodia, 100 ABY

    Three days to transport.

    Unhelpfully... Disorganised. But Bacora Sel was not entirely surprised. Zawahul's use of the Force was not as martial as his, so as such his thinking would be not be as practical. How it had never occurred to him that he may need quick transport, on a world full of the galaxies greatest killers, Bacora would never understand.

    Bacora had half expected Zawahul to drop his almost poetic speech patterns, as an affectation to make him seem more like the legendary Yoda, but it appeared this was how he actually spoke.

    Unwrapping his bag, he began to don his Jedi robes, regardless of the threat. It was fairly unlikely that he would be picked out from this distance by this Yammka, even as he triggered the slave rig on his ship to come meet them. Even though the robes were still wet with his sweat, it only added to their weight and doubled the feeling he had that these were his armour; both for body and soul. He took a calming breath, weaving the Force around him like a cage of expectation and anticipation, coiled but calm, forearmed but not looking for the foregone conclusion that violence was to be visited upon him.

    As Bacora focused on their survival, Zawahul bid a villip to him, and the wizened Jedi Master had the opportunity to have his jaw drop in shock as Zawahul spoke to the body of Yuuzhan Vong ships descending upon the planet.

    Greetings. What of one who moves among the Children of the Gods, or those that live by them?

    A rustle came across the echo of the timpan's that were amplifying the voice of their visitor, and then a response boomed out. 'Who dares address a God in such a manner? Surely a heretic, a heathen?'

    Bacora grimaced as the Yuuzhan Vong near them stepped back, bracing uncertainly their makeshift digging-implements-turned-weapons, a rumble of discourse among them as they setup a loose circle around the two Force users. Bacora ignited his lightsaber, a dark blue, letting the tip angle down, pouring into the Force a sense of gravity, of great weight being behind this imposing man, despite his earlier all-but-nudity.

    Yammka responded to his own question, making it rhetoric and lowering Bacora's opinion of this 'God' to that of a holo-theatre villain that rambled. 'Let me tell you what will happen for those who are not Children of the Gods, little sapling and Jedi. They shall become subservient, or they will die.'

    Bacora frowned. Yammka said 'Jedi' properly. It was a difficult word for the Yuuzhan Vong tongue at best, and they knew as much. Glancing at his sensor-Chrono, he noted that his ship would be a few minutes at least... and found himself hoping Zawahul could keep this self-appointed God talking before he bade his kin to kill them...

    @Mitth-Fisto
    ---
    IC: Yalta Val
    Arkania, 108 ABY

    There had been a reason why Yalta Val had been diverted to Arkania in the first place, and he was conscious of that fact, and so he ensured he attended to that along the way of provisioning the ship for a long trek into the Unknown Regions.

    His original mission had been important enough. Val had been directed to secure a casket found in the depths of Arkania, and transport it to the Emperor, and ensure it's existence continued to remain a secret, especially from the Jedi. Who could not be trusted, which Val could see, to a degree.

    The Imperial Knights felt the balance of the Force was no better within the Jedi Order, especially when they nearly tore apart the galaxy so recently. Had they been still associated with the Alliance his opinion would have remained the same; democracy directed the Force impotently, and if negativity was acceptable at the bottom of the Alliance's ladder of escalation, for every minuscule percentage of people infected with dejection was a Jedi which could be similarly affected; there was a reason that the Jedi kept giving birth to Sith and Dark Jedi, so surely a new way should be tried?

    Val could see that the new way, the better way, was the Knights of the Empire. Deftly balanced between supporting the Emperor and keeping him keen as a lightsider, they had their role enshrined in the Empire, rather than simply launching a coup whenever they felt like it, as with the Jedi Order.

    And so this casket, with where it was found, and what with the history of this particular world, could never be trusted to fall into the Jedi Order's hands. And, because Val was prudent, he locked it in the brig, just in case it should open itself.

    @Chukles38, @Shira, @Thrawn1786, @The Great No One
    ---
    IC: Jariah Syn
    En route to Lok in a biiiig way, 137 ABY

    Had Jariah Syn known that Cade was a Skywalker, he would have known how Anakin had won the Boonta Eve Podrace as a child, how he crashed half the Invisible Hand when it should have exploded a thousand times over. He would have known Luke destroyed the Death Star with one torpedo, how he once landed half a Mon Calamari cruiser at the Battle of Mindor, about how he had flown a Besuliik against a Super Star Destroyer, let alone the exploits of his grandfather Ben in flying between two black holes, or his uncle Nat and father Kol in their innumerable piloting exploits.

    And so, he probably wouldn't be sweating the imminent death he was facing, if he knew. But he didn't, so the expletives which escaped his mouth would have made his mother blush... Kark, they would have made his pirate father blush.

    And so when they did, by some small miracle, land in the spaceport they were due to attend anyway, he had swore his whole expletive dictionary, in seventeen different languages, and maybe even threw together sixty more swear words by amalgamating the lot. On a good day, he'd be happy about it.

    Today was not a good day.

    The spaceport was a disaster, people running amok, a lot of screaming and chaos. Nobody paid attention to an obviously crippled ship as it somehow made it down. Blue had already rushed out of the Mynock to survey the damage, cussing at Cade herself. Picking through the crowds came Naxy, the bounty they were due to collect, and Blue didn't even listen to a word he said, she simply decked him with a pinch to the face.

    'Little schutta I don't care about your bounty right now!'

    Through the crowd came a woman that Syn couldn't help think of as Imperial, but the Twi'lek beside her in her Missionary robes drew more or his attention. But the woman, complete with white streak through her hair, cut through the look Syn gave her. 'We don't have time. My ship is functional but needs to be cleared of the debris. Yes, I'm Imperial, no, I'm not a Sith. If you're going to help, come along. If not, your funeral.'

    With that she spun on her heel and rushed back the way she'd came, meeting and then leading a group of individuals, including a Bothan who, if Cade cared to look, sung in the Force as a light sider.

    Even if he didn't Mara pointed something else out. 'I can see the family resemblance.' She wasn't looking at Cade. 'Yes, I'm talking to you. Potentially a hallucination, but who knows.'

    Blue cut across the discussion as a void opened up at the other end of the spaceport, whipping the air with wind and licking at the flames cresting the top of their ship. 'The Mynock will need a new wing before we can go... It might be totalled.' Her hair writhed in the elements, and she steadied herself. 'We may actually have to help them.'

    'And steal the shuttle from under Mrs Imp's nose?' Syn said, hopeful.

    @Chukles38
    ---
    IC: Antilles
    Unknown Regions, 146 ABY

    While Lenea engaged the fighters, Antilles let his crew 'fight the ship' - take care of the engagement themselves without his interference, and he took a step from the bridge, momentarily casting his gaze back toward the viewport, the colour of battle causing a golden glint to his eye for a brief passing second.

    He diverted the footage of the fall of Saridonia to his ready room, knowing that currently his bridge crew were to focused on the task to concentrate on that, on what it meant. But to Antilles this battle was distraction, and the future was much more important. As he crossed the threshold into the chamber he orders for bridge crew to divert the frigate so it faced the best jump point, while allowing the maximum weapons to be bought to bear.

    In the few moments he took to review matters the D-Type avoided one torpedo but not the other, which cored it. The first reacquired the TIE defenders as a target and scattered their formation before they could finish off the freighter. The Predators approached Lenea, the left one flaming out in the exchange but the second took out Lenea's shields as they passed each other.

    The three TIE Defenders were gathering again before their formation was needled by the frigates long range weapons, but the TIE's were good; they had overlapped their shields and as such took what hits the frigates guns could actually inflict, and responded with a full barrage of lasers, ion cannons and missiles which rocked the frigate hard before they broke, one TIE heading back to the freighter and the other two dancing around the frigates weapons.

    Antilles opened a private channel to Lenea as the Predator took a long circle around the engagement, pacing Lenea from afar. The frigate Inquisitor, hanging back, was probably positioning itself to strike when the frigate was worn down and Lenea no longer a factor. They could risk fighters and shuttles - shuttles which were rapidly attaching themselves to the freighter, an aged Corellian corvette that was ill-equipped to handle just about any of it's current opponents, even if it's guns reduced one of the four shuttles to dust in that moment.

    'Jedi Master, we can't stay here. I need you to get aboard the freighter and see what you can do to get it going. It's only a matter of time before the anomaly reaches us.' Antilles grimaced. 'From the analysis of the data the freighter has provided it is expanding exponentially, and has been for much of the year, it's nearly travelling at light speed now.'

    'The freighter has a shielded port in the underside; we'll handle the Sith...' He took a deep breath. 'I know you may have just lost a brother, but this fight is not important, we need to gather our resources again, and move on, find other survivors and a way to defeat this disaster.'

    Antilles wondered how Lenea would cope with her undoubtedly conflicting emotions, what with the Order's destroyers here for her to kill.

    The three shuttles began to mass fire and overlap their shields as they closer with the beleaguered freighter, scorching off the comm antenna and combining fire on the topside turret, the escape pods guns being manned to provide extra but ineffective fire. The freighter was trying to roll to bring it's underside weapon to bear, but the shuttles had attached their own tractor beams to the corvette as it rolled so were being tugged along with it, but presenting the underside hangar to Lenea quite neatly, which of course the remaining Predator saw and immediately angled towards the hangar, unperturbed by what fire the corvette and frigate could lob it's way.

    The pilot was good, and Antilles couldn't see Lenea passing it up...

    ... Not when Antilles could tell the pilot was a Sith.

    @Skywalker_T-65
    ---
    IC: Darth Tod
    Nesron, 600 ABY

    Darth Tod pulled a face, unable to help himself. Lora was a pain, he had decided. His mind was completely elsewhere now, the nagging frustrating him deeply. Darth Tod assigned a piece of his attention to Lora's efforts. He simply looked at the flung implement, catching the shard and rather wasting his time trying to stop it, exerted himself along the materials shatterpoint, causing it to disintegrate long before it made it to him. However, he was mildly surprised by a bolt of lightning emerging from her fingertips, and hit him, not just lightly, but hard, taking the brunt of the fiery blow and stepping back.

    And then Lora was leaping up, fingers almost reaching for his throat. Enough is enough, he decided, lifted his arm, and slammed Lora to the floor with the Force. And then he crushed down with the Force, with all of the dark side within him, bones snapping, cartilage crunching, blood dribbling from her eyes, her mouth, her ears, before shared of bone broke through her skin and he suddenly realised what was happening.

    This wasn't real.

    A wave of uncertainty hit him, that he wasn't this powerful in reality, that he was being assisted by whoever's reality this was, and he disliked it. He disliked it a lot.

    His mind found who was responsible, and he pushed...

    --
    Coruscant

    ... And the elderly, frail finger of the. Chosen One was pushed from the forehead of Lora Skywalker, Skywalker, prone on the floor from the efforts of the entire Council of Inquisitors, and the old man spoke, breathless, all but wheezing behind his white beard.

    'And that is what will happen if you confront Darth Tod on your own. You will die. You will surprise him, but you will die. I have seen it, and so have you, now. It is what the Seers saw on Bakura, it is why we sterilised the whole world to quench the rumour.'

    The Chosen One returned to his throne, leaning on his saberstaff as he did so. They were now alone in his chamber, as instructed, and for a long moment Lora would be crippled by the echo of her death, though fully clad in her standard clothes and, as evidence of the Inquisitors confidence - armed. His chambers were atop the Jedi Temple, the four spires long joined by a massive central spire, complete with it's own landing bays, encircling the crown of the tower where the Chosen One lived, the tallest point on Coruscant.

    In that moment a High Inquisitor rushed into the room, 'Almighty One, the Bothans have launched an invasion of Republic and Sith space!'

    'What?!' A galaxy map appeared, showing the territories of the Sith covering the Tion and traditional Hutt worlds, the Banking Clan worlds coloured one way as allied but not members of the Republic, while the Greater Bothan territories were neutral, having signed non aggression pacts with both the Sith and Jedi. Now the green Bothan borders showed arrow salients reaching up the Corellian Run to Denon, and another salient lunging at Nal Hutta by more winding routes. It added complexity to a galactic map where the Sith had finally secured the Gordian Reach and were now advancing on the Core up the Hydian and Perlemian, overrunning Republic positions despite Mandalorian and Hapan resistance in each respective theatre. With Dac secure thanks to the Quarren, the Sith had a decent industrial and economic base and it was proving more resilient than the Republic's democracy, if only due to Corellia sealing it's borders for roughly the hundredth time in the Republic's time of need.

    In that context the Bothan move made no sense, and the One exclaimed. 'Why?'

    'The Bothans claim a superweapon has consumed their southern territories and, failing to find evidence of who is responsible, they have declared war on both of us. They have submitted a report of a signal, which their spynet picked up, transmitted from a location in the former Unknown Regions and have sent spies to secure it and decide the fate of whoever is responsible.'

    'We have the location?'

    'We have a ship readied for it, Almighty One. It is just outside on the landing pad. The ship Skywalker arrived in.'

    The One nodded, shakily standing, almost in time with after effects of the vision leaving Lora. 'Then the time has come for the Chosen One to -' and then his eyes widened, and he stabbed a finger at Lora. 'I have seen it! She intends to kill me and become the Chosen One! Kill her now!'

    The High Inquisitor hesitated as the One shuffled away, and then ignited his lightsaber, so thrown by the sudden reversal - by how important Lora had been to the war effort a moment ago and now she was not - that he did not think to call the guards and rushed her, the One cursing the man's foolishness and reaching with the Force to snatch his comlink from his belt in the meantime.

    @DarkLordoftheFins
  19. greyjedi125 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Apr 29, 2002
    star 5
    IC: Stark (Subject 1313)
    Nar Shaddaa, Corellian quarter, 5 ABY

    Chaos had descended upon the Corellian sector, naked, bare and full of its own wantonness. Stark welcomed this feeling, he embraced it, allowed it to saturate his very being, this primal force. Only in these moments did he believe himself free of the unrelenting phantom voices and images which haunted all his various states of consciousness.

    A vain hope at best.

    His fear and his fury were such, that he’d nary felt satisfaction as the bounty hunter, Boba Fett winked out of existence, though he registered it long enough to understand he could not attack what was no longer there. Perhaps in retrospect, when his mind was much more calm, would he understand what had just occurred. As for the bandaged man, the one with the turban…where had he gone to?

    The revenant leapt high into the air, searching for his elusive prey.

    The roar of the crumbling buildings around him were music to accompany his feral yell. The death cries he sensed and heard in his vicinity were but the chorus.

    There were no thoughts of Vima or of Dray. No escape pods streaking through the embattled skies. No distractions. Just death and roaring. The release of anger and the darkside.

    Were these not the moments for which he was made?

    Something exploded in the chaos, sending a rippling wave of concussion to toss him aside. Once again, Stark vaulted, righted his trajectory an landed in a crouch position as he used the force to arrest his backwards momentum, his trajectory leaving a skid mark through the fallen debris.

    That pause brought on a moment of sobriety. Stark’s eyes were still wild, but he had the presence of mind to take in his surroundings. His prey was nowhere to be seen for the moment. The landscape had changed somewhat, as buildings that stood mere moments ago where now falling. Screaming and fires and explosions engulfed the area as far as he could see.

    Vima!

    Yes. Vima. Where was the old woman, his candle in the dark. He’d lost track of her.

    Stark closed his eyes for a moment and used his force senses to triangulate her location amid the chaos. There. She seemed scared, more than usual. But she was not alone. Was she in danger? Was the turbaned Bounty Hunter upon her?

    VIMA!!! Stark yelled as loud as he could, his body now running at full speed, almost out of its own volition. Please be Ok, Vima. Don’t die, don’t die on me. I swear I’ll kill him, I’ll kill him DEAD!

    The revenant ran over obstacles and even evaded blaster fire to reach the old woman…but once he reached her, he saw she was with another woman.But not just any woman.

    Stark arrested all forward movement and skidded to a stop where he stood completely frozen. He looked quite ashen and far paler than he’d ever been. His eyes were wide as he became slack-jawed, though his heart seemed to stop, then begin to beat faster than a speeder. The hooded replica seemed to be stammering, but no sound came…at least not at first.

    Was that really……her?

    "J….J…Juno?"

    Explosions and blaster fire erupted all around Stark just then, blowing him away unto the uneven debris covered ground. This time he’d been too distracted to stop himself as he rolled unceremonisoulsy on the ground.

    As always,there was pain. However, pain brought him singular focus. A focus for his anger.

    The revenant rose, a snarl curling his lips as he looked for the cause.

    Storm troopers. Whiteshells were converging around him. They had found him after all. And not too far away, a shuttle was deploying more of the white armored troopers. Above, two TIE fighters held their position as they strafed the area; they were destroying buildings.

    Stark's senses blared a warning. There was real danger here. They would kill her, and he would lose her again. His heart skipped a beat as a jolt of fear pierced his chest.

    “……no……”

    He could not allow that to happen.

    Fear….leads to Anger….

    He needed to stop them.

    “…..leave us……”

    Anger…..leads to Hate…..

    Stark raised both his hands and made grasping motions at the TIE fighters. The rumbling of the force filled his ears and made his teeth vibrate inside his skull.

    Hate……leads to…. Power!

    “…….ALONE!!!”

    Bringing both hands together, the revenant sought to smash both TIE fighters together into a metallic heap, then hurl the crushed sphere unto the shuttle.

    As for the whiteshells: He would cut them down, each and everyone of them if he had to. No one would come near Juno. None would keep him from the woman he loved.

    Tag: @Sinrebirth

    * I think I have a headache now… :p
    Last edited by greyjedi125, Jul 7, 2014
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  20. Mitth_Fisto Chosen One

    Member Since:
    Sep 29, 2005
    star 6
    IC: Thuwistan Zawahul
    Rodia, Jungles, 100ABY

    The Jedi began to re-robe in his orders garments, layering the dead though fettered with a dampness that had long lost the purity of any good spring or dew, and drew the Tyia in a pattern of anticipation about himself. It was nearly a goad and a thankful tremble went through his stalk that the Yuuzhan Vong could not see as he and attack from such a challenging insult as this to a newly sprouting crop of war.

    When the vibrations reverberated about them and through his own leaves, Zawahul noted with some oddity the uncertainty of the voice not knowing. Was this a poorly conceived usurper or was a deity so limited when it became flesh? It did not know and would not wilt a leaf with worry over such things. What was the worth in that? Instead he waited as the Jedi prepared more with held breath, baited as the breath was the thing believed it added, as many he was sure, more bearing to themselves. To Zawahul the man merely looked a foolish brute of posing beast, a bright stick whose fruit was likely to be fermenting. Especially when one noted the Yuuzhan Vong had already taken a step back at their deities words instead of rushing forward for the kill, most overly ripe indeed.

    The claimed Yammka spoke sound and clear, and given was Zawahul to note it as he dipped softly his own breath in the Tyia to mingle with the flowing breath of the Yammka. Letting them mix as it finished speaking and letting his breath move and flow in the Yammka's own rhythm that he might feel the source and the effect better in those to whom it flowed as his three ringing leafs twixt seed pod and stalk slowly were given to rise with the action unseen. "One has served two seasons the Yuuzhan Vong. Intendent and Priest of Paths one of these might give me leaf, and by such I speak to you. The Jedi I yet to meet beyond his breath, though tepid and stale it might be. So now it springs, subservient to these or to thee?"

    The villip yet was held close to see, and so yet most of all about were also seen, their breaths tasted, their presence known to leaf if not his Tyia's gift. A stray leaf curled up onto his stalk and rubbed gently the amphistaff upon his waist. Waking the beast from it's slumber but not from it's rest upon his stalk, soon this small crop may yet need guarded. Soon this field may yet need pruning.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth
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  21. HanSolo29 Manager Emeritus + Official Star Wars Artist

    Member Since:
    Apr 13, 2001
    star 6
    IC: Anakin Solo
    Eclipse, Deep Core 27 ABY

    As all eyes shifted in his direction, a heavy weight descended on him, threatening to suffocate him if he didn’t make a decision soon. That, of course, made the situation that much worse. The pressure was no doubt messing with his decision-making ability and as a result, the chances of him totally botching the whole thing were that much higher. For a moment, he considered admitting to his Uncle that he was unsuited to lead any of the campaigns and that the older man should take over to guarantee some rate of success, but then he caught sight of the faces of his companions once more. While most were older and had far more experience, their gazes all had one thing in common – hope. Even if he doubted himself as he struggled with his inner demons, his friends and family did not. They had faith that he would make the proper decision and would pull it off. That was enough to bolster what little confidence he needed for the time being.

    As for the options themselves, well, it sure didn’t paint a pretty picture. His hopes of ever executing the Voxyn mission as he had meticulously planned it in his mind were far from gone. He was starting at square one, which was a lesson in and of itself – never assume there was only one way to accomplish something or to limit yourself to one preconceived notion. As a wise Jedi Master once said, ‘always in motion is the future.’ He would have smiled at the thought if the situation weren’t so serious.

    But then, where did that leave him? He knew he had to base his decision on the greater good of the galaxy and not merely on selfish ambitions and goals. Unfortunately, the Voxyn mission fell into that category. If not only an ego boost to mend his pride after a tense year of war, the fact that it only affected a small portion of the galaxy’s population could not be ignored. Regardless of their current number, the Jedi were still considered a minority in comparison to the wide range of beings that called this galaxy home. It was a Jedi’s job to protect them first and foremost. It almost pained him to think that the Voxyn mission had consumed him to the point that the whole situation at Talfaglio had slipped totally from his awareness, where innocent people were surely suffering. This meeting had also been a wake-up call in some respects.

    And then there were the galaxy-consuming anomalies out in the Unknown Regions. If his Uncle’s insistent voice and intense gaze were any indication, that probably took precedence as well. While he personally didn’t want to waste time on some wild Bantha hunt, something in the Force was urging him on. He couldn’t just simply shake it off. It was more of a gut feeling really, but still, the Force was rarely wrong. With that in mind, he had his decision.

    “We need to split,” he stated and immediately saw the surprise in the expressions of some of those around him. He raised his hand to ward off any further comments and quickly continued. “Hold on a sec, let me explain…”

    He caught sight of Ganner and nodded. “We all head to Talfaglio, like Ganner suggested, and take care of that blockade with whatever ships we have available to us.” He shifted his gaze towards Talon Karrde. “Karrde, I’m gonna need to take you up on that offer for extra ships…and Borga too, if she’s willing. We’ll need all the help we can get.” He indicated the Hutt with an uncomfortable nod of his head, making a point to avoid eye contact.

    “Once everything is secure, the Jedi team will head to Myrkr to take care of the Voxyn…same operation as before, except…” He glanced around at the others, notably his family members. “I won’t be with you...at least, for the onset.” He lowered his head, forcing himself to block out the murmurs that were sure to follow.

    “Before you ask, I’m gonna head out to the Unknown Regions to check out that anomaly. Hopefully it won’t prove to be too much trouble and I’ll join you on Myrkr as soon as I can. But…” He swallowed, raising his chin once more and focusing his gaze most notably on his brother and sister. “I’m gonna need help, both to accompany me on my end of the deal and to lead the initial strike team on Myrkr in my absence.” He cocked a brow. “Any volunteers?”

    TAG: @Sinrebirth
    Last edited by HanSolo29, Jul 8, 2014
  22. WINKWINK Jedi Grand Master

    Member Since:
    Dec 15, 2008
    star 1



    IC Hob Bob


    Hob Bob gave himself a few seconds for the gas to take effect, brace himself for violent action and went through the door to find…. nothing.

    How the hell did these people not find these tunnels? They run all over the damn place!
    Don’t know, but I’m not going to complain about it

    He continued down the corridor and headed in what he hoped was the direction of the generator room, sub-machine blaster in hand just in case. Thats when the whole facility bucked up beneath him, knocking him into the wall.

    Ummmmm, what was that?
    That was HK, they must not have bothered having the shields up he grinned inside his helmet big mistake
    Oh man that means we’ve wasted our time targeting the generator

    Hob bob paused for a moment in thought, head quirked to the side like a birds. This looked especially comical with his seemingly oversized helmet on his relatively small body.

    Not necessarily

    He continued stealthily on his way, another possibly suicidal thought percolating in his head


    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    IC HK-47


    HK-47 noted the lack of the telltale shimmer of a shield and fired his rocket at the door to wonderfully catastrophic results.


    HK-47 dropped the rocket launcher and ran towards the now demolished door, and seemingly half the hill it was set in, taking advantage of the confusion to cover some ground before the few pathetically dazed meatbags left by the entrance could start shooting back, only slightly encumbered by the burdens he had in each arm.


    He glanced back once towards the dropped rocket launcher and said

    “Valiant statement: I shall be back for you little boomstick! leave no mechanical behind!”


    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    IC Hob Bob


    I am NOT going to do what I think I am going to do. Am I?
    I think I might
    I am such an idiot
    I agree

    He passed through the devastated halls, impressed by the damage done by HK-47s little “weapon of mass destruction” as the droid had called it. Hob Bob had doubted him at first, but by now he should have realized a spoon counted as such were that one was concerned.

    Do I hear that?

    He paused at a particularly large crack in the wall, this one more a crevasse really, and very carefully peaked around it’s edge.

    He was looking in from the back corner of a room with a lot of people running in and out and someone who looked like they were in charge giving orders into a comlink. Something about “sending out the heavies” to deal with the intruder at the door.

    Psh, intruder. Like calling a rancor a womp rat
    Do I know this person?
    ...yes, they were in the mission briefing.

    And thats when his comlink decided to alert him he had an incoming message. Not having time for distractions right now he irritably used the controls inside his helmet to save it for later.

    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

    IC HK-47




    Hk-47 was about half to his opening when he saw a trio of meatbags crest a side hill carrying rocket launchers very similar to the one he had just discarded.

    Undiscouraged he raised the gatling gun his was holding in his right hand and peppered the entire hilltop, handily obliterating all three.

    One of them had managed to get a shot off, but a meatbag who is suddenly under a hail of gatling fire are known to have inferior aim, and it sailed back behind him.


    It did however hit HK-47s own discarded rocket launcher. “Mournful eulogy: Oh well.” He said as he continued his run, raining fire down upon the newly appeared resistance at the door.


    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    IC Hob Bob



    I should quietly circumvent this room
    After I paste everyone in it sure
    ….fine

    Hob Bob got from his pouch a round object wrapped in a cloth, pressed a button on it, and carefully rolled it into the room.

    At this point he did something he very rarely did. He ran for his life, because even Hob Bob didn't mess around with thermal detonators.

    ----------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------------


    TAG sinre
    OOC remember those little items Hob Bob got for HK-47? well, theres one of them.



  23. Ramza JC Head Admin and RPF Manager

    Administrator
    Member Since:
    Jul 13, 2008
    star 7
    Kyle Katarn
    Space, The Moldy Crow, 5 ABY

    So that made... what, three kills? Obviously Kyle still had it. "Panicking over nothing," he reassured himself, following the fighters as they made a break to regroup. Hell, he probably could've done better if the response times on this replacement rig weren't junk. Lousy not rusty piece of-

    "Kyle, it's Jan. No time for pleasantries. We're going to make a push for the other side of the moon, out of range of the Interdictor. We just need someone to buzz it so we can get a head start. Once we break the initial contact we'll be home free."

    Business as usual, then, shouldn't be any real trouble. He supposed he was impressed the communications crew had managed to get a line open in all of this mess. There was probably a pun to be had about jams and sticky situations. Maybe some other time.

    "Kyle, I -" The line cut out. Kyle, I? Kyle, I need you to draw their fire? That went without saying.

    Kyle, I need you to not wreck the Crow while the paint is still fresh?

    Kyle, I want to discuss our next operation once this is all over?

    Kyle, I kind of want Corellian food for dinner, since we're here?

    The mind reeled at the various mundane possibilities. Kyle, I think we should see other people? Maybe that was it - some nice Republic officer had caught her eye and she needed to make sure the formally clear air was, indeed, formally clear before she proceeded. Not like she needed his permission. Probably.

    He rolled his shoulders. "What's the matter with me today?" he grumbled, turning his attention to the Interdictor. It was obviously trying to box the corvette in. He clicked his tongue. "No, I don't think so." He had always been mildly curious to see what would happen if an HWK-290 attempted a flyby of the bridge of an ISD.

    Time to find out.

    TAG: @Sinrebirth
    Last edited by Ramza, Jul 9, 2014
  24. Skywalker_T-65 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Nov 19, 2009
    star 6
    IC: Mara Jade Skywalker
    Near Arkanis

    Mara wore a grim smile of satisfaction as the 'skip formation was drastically reduced. She continued to put fire into the remaining fighters as they curved on a new path...at least until her X-Wing bucked like a wild ronto. Spinning away on a 'downward' curve, the Jedi Master checked her readouts, as her droid screamed in its socket.

    Shields down to sixty percent...

    A lucky shot from the frigate that suddenly loomed in front of her fighter was the source of the blow. A single hit out of a volley of fire, that had forced Tam to spin off, to get a grutchin off his fighter. Toss in the two 'skips behind her (albeit with one damaged), it was a situation that didn't exactly strike the old Hand as good.

    Not that that had ever stopped her before, of course.

    "R9, transfer power to the rear shields," Mara said, as she pulled back on her stick.

    The X-Wing responded to the sudden movement, pulling out of its 'dive', shooting up, relative to the frigate. Mara held the 'climb' for a few seconds, before tugging the stick to the left. Her fighter pulled to the side, hopefully confusing the Vong gunners...and conveniently giving her a clear shot at the dorsal structure of the Vong warship. Tilting down, ever so slightly, the Jedi Master fired off her own load of torpedoes in a staggered barrage...again, hopefully confusing the enemy. A barrage of blaster fire complemented the torps, as she pulled her fighter away from the frigate.

    "Lets see how they like that."

    Turning her brilliant green eyes away from the frigate, Mara started scanning for the 'skips that had been behind her. Of course, her eyes were quickly drawn to a rather larger sight, as an Imperial-class Star Destroyer dropped out of hyperspace. While there was little external sign of damage on the ship, it still turned far slower than it should have...almost like the crew were worried about breaking something. The sight was odd enough, but it was welcome nonetheless...more support would be a good thing.

    'Masters Skywalker, Admiral Pellaeon,' said a gravelly voice. 'This is Brandl. We will be in firing range in two minutes, bear with us.'

    Another spike of pain at the mention of Luke aside, Mara was relieved to have the support. Seemingly damaged or not, a Destroyer was more than a match for a Vong frigate...

    TAG: @Sinrebirth
    Last edited by Skywalker_T-65, Jul 10, 2014
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  25. spycoder9 Force Ghost

    Member Since:
    Jul 23, 2008
    star 4
    IC: Tenel Ka Djo, Queen Mother of Hapes
    Kashyyyk, Shadowlands


    He did it again.

    Allana.

    The platform beneath her daughter’s feet unraveled by Kyp’s hand. Out of the corner of her eye, Tenel Ka thought she noticed Ben and Lowbacca’s bodies begin to fall as well. All she could do was give them a little boost, enough that it might give Jaina time to rescue them fully. She did so, while vaulting head of heel to her daughter. Her lightsaber was already snapped closed and at her belt mid-leap. She landed on the collapsing platform, catching her daughter’s fingertips and tossing her onto her back.

    Hold on,” She said through gritted teeth. Allana wrapped her arms and legs as tightly as she could, while Tenel Ka's feet rolled on the wooden pieces that were falling away beneath her. Allana was heavy, and a distraction, but Tenel Ka had learned how to remove distractions long ago. Stay focused. Remember your training. She had forsaken the Jedi for her own people, but their teachings would never leave her.

    She was running now, faster and faster, lighter and lighter.

    As long as they landed on steady ground. . .they had to land on steady ground. . .

    She leaped from the crumbling platform.


    TAG: @Mitth_Fisto, @Sinrebirth
    Last edited by spycoder9, Jul 11, 2014
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