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  1. In Memory of LAJ_FETT: Please share your remembrances and condolences HERE

Star Wars Star Wars: Legends End: Dark Beginnings

Discussion in 'Role Playing Forum' started by Sinrebirth , Jun 12, 2014.

  1. Ktala

    Ktala Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2002
    Jedi Knight Tionne
    Tatooine, Mos Espa, 14 ABY, early year



    Tionne's lightsaber sang, as she moved, fluid and graceful as she sized up her attackers. The Force was with her, as she managed to catch one of them unawares, and removed him from the conflict altogether. She had no time to worry about Kam, as suddenly the other attacker gestured, slashing his hand across himself. Tionne became aware of one of the couches in the room, suddenly moving towards her, but then suddenly it burst into flames. Lighting?! Still a burning couch was a bit more of a distraction than a simple couch, and Tionne moved to her left, meaning to move out of the way of its path towards her. Suddenly, the Force flared around her in an familiar embrace she knew to mean danger.

    With a concentrated effort, she gathered the Force around her, and brought up a hand, as she now noticed a gesture in her direction from Kam's opponent. She did not attempt to totally block to blow, but to use it, as she was already moving out of the pathway of the couch. She simply twisted her body as it moved back, and coiling her legs underneath herself, rolled gracefully, before coming upright once more. She then quickly moved forward once more and...

    Another whisper in the Force, but this time it seemed it had nothing to do with these beings attacking them. But of the one called Pedric Cuf, who seemed to have made use of the battle to cover his tracks, while the twi'lek underling was screaming about something. Tionne sent the flaming couch towards the doorway the others had come in from, while once again, she spun her saber, moving on her closest opponent. Drawing closer was certainly more dangerous, but less likely to have to deal with flying debris as well.

    "Too many partners in this dance for my tastes!" Tionne spoke, as she blocked a hard overhand chop by her opponent. She kept her lithe body moving, and using her foot, she aimed square for his chest, since both of his arms were up above his head, which she augmented with the Force as well. If all worked well, she would move to rejoin Kam, and together put this battle to an end quickly, so that they could attempt to follow Cuf.

    While losing the artifact was regrettable, Tionne was not willing to lose her companion.



    TAG: Sinrebirth
     
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  2. Skywalker_T-65

    Skywalker_T-65 Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Nov 19, 2009
    IC: Mara Jade Skywalker
    Near Arkanis system

    A white void...a place where things died. There was no other way to describe what had opened up in space. She couldn't focus on it with her Force senses...no matter what she tried. And as Tam barely avoided getting caught in it...Mara Jade Skywalker quickly decided that she wanted to be far, far away from it. She couldn't know if it was connected to what happened to Luke...but getting herself killed wouldn't do anyone any good.

    So after a quick check to make sure Tam was on track for the Star Destroyer, she boosted her thrusters to full power.

    'Accelerating to lightspeed in two minutes. If you could get aboard, we'll take you to safety... If you would, Masters Skywalker, Admiral Pellaeon.'

    Pushing aside the mention of Luke, Mara shook her head slightly.

    "Thank you for the warning," she muttered, her X-Wing pushing itself at its full speed towards the damaged Destroyer's hangar...

    TAG: Sinrebirth


    (OOC: Yeah, not really much to do there :p )
     
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  3. The Great No One

    The Great No One Jedi Grand Master star 8

    Registered:
    Jun 4, 2005
    IC: Jacen Solo/ Kavan Surface/ Hapes Cluster

    As he grabbed and threw the fighter, Jacen’s danger sense suddenly began tingling and he realized exactly how much trouble he was potentially in. It turned out that Mara had done something to make it so her ship would blow up fairly easily, which wasn’t what he’d wanted in the slightest, instead wanting a large blunt force instrument he could use repeatedly in the fight, and in the end block the cave entrance so that no one could go that way. Instead what he had was a rather unpleasant exploding monstrosity on his hands. Deciding that the only prudent thing to do was drop to the ground, he put action to the thought and as a result Mara’s ligthsaber wiffed over his head and he was able to completely ignore it.

    There was precisely one thing that he could think of that would get him out of this, and that wasn’t a wall of the Force. Well, not precisely. Instead of a wall, he created a plane of the Force angled so that it covered his entire body and it would deflect the force of the blast. Still, the sheer sound was jarring in a way, and while he lay there he received some very unpleasant information from Ship of all things. Apparently, based on the information Ship was feeding him, that vision he’d had was happening now.NO! Everything will fall apart. What can I… But Jacen realized there was nothing he could do. Absolutely nothing that arguably the most powerful being in the galaxy could do to save it. Allana. It was all he could do to keep tears from his eyes.

    Instead of getting up immediately after the explosion had passed and seeing what was left of Mara, if anything, he lay there stunned. And what he sensed from Lumiya… made no sense whatsoever. Why is she happy about this? Jacen knew she’d been lying to him for quite some time, but he’d been doing the same thing to her. But this… this was so far from anything she’d ever even intimated to want. Why did she want the destruction of the galaxy? Jacen felt very lost, and the only being in the galaxy that he’d known he could trust for advice was gone. Fierfek, why did Luke have to… He couldn’t say die. Luke hadn’t died. He’d simply ceased to exist, somehow. Were Jacen in a position to flow walk he’d have tried to go and see what had happened to his uncle, but this was hardly something he was capable of doing at the moment thanks to Mara being her insufferable self.

    But there was more to what Ship had to tell him. Apparently Lumiya was absolutely insistent that he kill Mara before what she had termed the wave reached him. At this point, however, Jacen had had enough of what Lumiya wanted for him. If she wanted the destruction of the galaxy he had been given everything to protect, why in the nine corellian hells should he give even the slightest damn what she wanted? Or perhaps he should want the opposite. So instead of rising to kill Mara, Jacen Solo went to her and after a cursory inspection of her condition began trying to heal her. While he had to make sure she was unconscious, as he was absolutely certain she would try to kill him even now, it was time to be his own man entirely instead of the pawn that Lumiya had been trying to make him. Using the Force to control her consciousness, and as battered as she was there was little she could do to resist surely, Jacen began utilizing some of what he’d learned over the years to heal instead of harm. The entire time he wept for Tenal Ka and Allana, knowing he had failed them utterly.

    TAG: Sinrebirth
     
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  4. Random Comments

    Random Comments Jedi Grand Master star 5

    Registered:
    Sep 25, 2012
    IC: Joruus C'Baoth
    Near Bpfassh, Chimaera, 9 ABY

    Turboliftswere places of isolation for mortals. Small capsules which transported beings to new levels, ascending and descending through the ship, and metaphorically speaking, the command hierarchy. Yet for C'baoth, there was no isolation in the transparisteelchamber. Instead, it was as if life returned. Free of the ysalimiri"s influence, the Force was with him once again. All the beings, all the little minds at their little work stations, were open to him once more. Excepting, of course, thesmall pockets which signified the presence of the ysalimiri, quietly disdaining his power. Overcome for a moment by the senses returning to him, C'Baoth stood in the doorway, breathing in the sensations of the thousands unknowingly under his command. So it was that he almost missed the life blinking into existence as Pellaeon left the bubble and stepped into the turbolift himself. His heart leapt as he understood the implications of this event. Could the Force have granted him the opportunity he required so quickly? He began to turn, gathering the Force and preparing the necessary words, then stopped. The voices were back! Why could they not cease their interference and allow him to go about his business?
    "Master C'Baoth, there is a navigation string which is about to appear on your left arm. Do not overreact. But you do need to follow it."
    The voice dared to command him! C'baoth suddenly lost interest in Pellaeon and the petty power struggles of the Chimaera. This fly, buzzing in his head, needed to be crushed under his boot. The impracticality of such a plan was no deterrent. He had been questioned, and would show no mercy.
    "A great threat to your power has arisen."
    Did the voice refer to itself? Ignorant, as well as impudent!
    The voice continued, unconcerned by the interruption.
    "Not in the same way Thrawn threatens you, but in a way which threatens to annihilate you personally, and all you have worked towards."
    Ha! No such danger could threaten him, and the speech's excesses struck no fear in his heart.
    The second voice seemed somehow to agree.
    "Bit melodramatic, don't you think?"
    "We need him, unless your other leads pan out."
    So, a supplicant at his altar of the Force.
    "And...Well, I'm telling the truth."
    The voices' message seemed implausible, but still...new servants to train could provide an amusing diversion, particularly Force-sensitive ones, as these seemed to be, to contact him like this. Perhaps he could excuse the earlier insult due to their lack of wisdom.
    He looked at his arm, and saw that a 'navigation string' had indeed appeared upon it.
    And of course... Perhaps it wouldn't hurt to see what 'threat' might stand against him.

    "Master C'baoth, is there a problem?"
    The voice of Pellaeon brought the Jedi Master out of his thoughts once again. Truly, the man seemed to have an irritating affinity for shattering thoughts. Still, there was no need to antagonize him now, and his plan could be resumed at some other time.
    "No, Captain Pellaeon, there is not. Indeed," -a smile flickered faintly across his face- "no problem at all."
    He would follow this 'string' where it may lead. And then...the fun would begin.
     
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  5. Thrawn1786

    Thrawn1786 Jedi Master star 5

    Registered:
    Feb 8, 2004
    IC: Mitth'raw'nuruodo

    As he walked through the halls and corridors of his fortress, Mitth (he had decided to call himself that instead of the standard Chiss core name, Thrawn. Thrawn he might be, but not entirely. He was determined to keep something of himself, even while he saved the galaxy he was just being introduced to) had to wonder if this was what being a god on earth was like. It had to be certainly similar, given all the stares he was getting. Some men were in complete awe; others looked as if they wanted to fall to their knees and weep, as if he were some long heralded messiah finally brought among his people. Others had blank faces, clearly trying hard to mask their feelings (and were failing miserably); a few were stoic and saluting. It was inspiring and terrifying at the same time.

    I may have his memories, his DNA, his structure...but I am not him! I am not Grand Admiral Thrawn, Mitth thought, knowing he was the only one who would believe such. He could tell his mere presence had completely changed the general mindset of those within the Hand. And that would be a problem, once they truly realized he was not, could not be, the military genius his creator was.

    Mitth looked down at himself, eyeing the uniform he had been given (it was a little too tight in the hips, he realized with a frown) when he slowed his pace, hearing something tiny, as if a fly were buzzing around his ear: Thrawn? I know you can't reply but we're on our way. You need to trust that what you're supposed to do is not what needs to be done.

    Who was that? WHAT was that? Was he truly losing his mind now? It had already been quite the day of experiences and surprises. Mitth did a few quick equations in his mind, testing himself, and the answers came out sound. So he wasn't crazy, otherwise he would have answered himself with gibberish. Who was this voice? How did they know he was awake? Had there been some hidden detector attached to the cloning tank, programmed to go off and alert whoever once he was freed? Did the whole galaxy know he was alive and alert, and it was a giant race to see who could claim the prize of Thrawn the genius commander who made worlds tremble?

    Mitth pushed his growing paranoia aside as the party reached the command center, and he automatically recognized from memory Commander Voss Parck. He and Thrawn, from the memories in his mind, had been through several campaigns together. Surprisingly, the man did not snap to attention with the crisp adoration that the rest of the fortress had, but instead stood with some respect, a judging look in his eye. Finally, someone with some common sense...someone who realizes the truth.

    As Parck spoke, Mitth found himself liking this man. Having Parck on his side and recognizing him as more than a mindless duplicate made him a valuable ally in this new world. He began to agree - there was nothing wrong with an evaluation- when the voice returned, its tinny tone trembling as if panicked: No! Stall! I'm nearly there!

    WHO? Mitth roared inside his mind, doing his best not to let his emotions show. While he wanted a medical examination of himself, a psychiatric exam would get him nowhere, and he'd lose any credibility he might have established. It would certainly bring the entire fortress down around him.

    The Chiss named Stent ran into the room before Mitth could say or think any further, and loud whispers flew between him and Parck. Parck frowned, then opened a section of the wall, using a remote to reveal a display of damaged ships in a hangar bay. A glance at the upper corner of the display showed two ships approaching, and given Parck's body language, they weren't allies.

    Before he could stop himself, Mitth moved closer to the display, studying the scene. While not without defenses, it would be impossible for the Hand to completely thwart the intruders...unless...

    At the same time that he heard one of them ask, "Admiral?" , the voice returned, asking I don't suppose you could open fire on the fighter and allow me to work out where your guns are, could you?

    Mitth frowned at that, then turned back to face Stent and Parck. "What is the damage report on the towers? How quickly can the two be brought back online? Send one of your crews to begin work on them. Immediately. Use the ion cannon on one of the working towers to track the fighter; I want the remaining two on standby. Any ships we have in working condition, man them and have them ready to launch at my signal. Admiral, open the comm; let's see who these visitors are firsthand. Hail the shuttle first." He fell into a military stance, his arms behind his back, and fell silent, briefly nodding at Stent and the stunned look on his face.

    Tag: Sinrebirth
     
  6. Chukles38

    Chukles38 Jedi Master star 5

    Registered:
    Jun 10, 2005
    OOC: At long last I post. Sorry for the delay.

    IC: Lola
    The Sanatorium. She didn’t know where all they were goin’. How can you expect a poor girl to keep track of that stuff?

    He spoke, and his voice was honey. No, his voice was chocolate. Or maybe just love. Either way, it was beautiful, and sweet, and… um… well, she would come up with something fitting, wouldn’t she? Jealousy tore through Lola, though a small part of her found it amusing she was jealous of herself. Still, not even such powerful emotions could keep her joy at bay. She bounced excitedly, trying to contain herself. It was pointless. She dashed forward and threw her arms around Lolarus, nearly knocking him to his feet. How she’d longed to do that. Touch him, hug him. Not knock him to the floor. Although that could be fun too…. but she had all sorts of other ideas on her mind if she’d gotten him to the floor.

    She stayed that way for a moment, long enough for the Chiss to start speaking. He mentioned how Lola hadn’t come for him, so she shot him a dirty and miffed look from beneath Lolarus’ arm. As the Chiss properly introduced himself, Lola pulled away from her master with great reluctance. The girl put her fists on her hips and cast a reproachful look at… Kandor, was it? She had already forgotten. “Yeah, big blue, if it’ been up ta’ me, I’d’ve left ya’ here. All I need is my Masta’ L,” a dreamy expression came over her face as she paused, though it soured quickly. “She,” the girl spat out, “thought you’d be useful though, ya’ know? I was gonna free ya’ second, have some alone time with my Masta’ L, but I picked the wrong door first.” Lola slumped, dejected.

    As she pouted, her eyes caught sight of something hanging from her belt and she squealed in delight, grabbed up the lightsaber, and cuddled it to her in excitement. Remembering herself, she stood straight, her expression one of forced sobriety. She cocked out a hip, placed her other hand on her other hip as she, smoothly, casually, held Lolarus’ saber out to him. In her mind, she was cool and sexy. She had no idea how she came off to the other two. “Ya drop somethin’, Mista’?” She asked, oh so collected. Well, sorta. She just couldn’t help the huge grin that broke across her face.

    TAG: The Great No One , Shira A'dola , Thrawn1786 , Sinrebirth

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

    IC: Cade Skywalker
    The End of the World… well, Lok at any Rate

    Cade wasted no time and grabbed the end of the chain, leaving the Force users to manage whatever it was they were managing. He threw himself into his task, heaving and hauling as well as any of the rest. Things didn’t seem about to budge, however. That kriffin billboard complicated things, and the two Jedi seemed incapable of moving it. Unwelcome thoughts were already coming to Cade as Mara spoke.

    Guess what I'm going to suggest, Cade?”

    “Ah, stuff it Mara,” Cade snapped, exertion straining his temperament as well as his muscles. After a moment, her ghostly eyes berating him, he strove to make his point. “I mean, it’s been a while, yeah? If they can’t do it, what makes you think I can?” Cade received a few odd looks from the others on the chain, but since he was still engaged in the pulling, they seemed willing enough to overlook his conversation.

    Another moment, another district sucked away into oblivion. Karkin Sith Spittin piece of poodo. Those damn Jedi couldn’t do it? Cade let out a growl of frustration as he released the chain and jumped it, moving away from the line and towards the Jedi, though he stopped short, refusing to stand by their side. He made a point to not look at Mara, though he imagined a self-satisfied smirk on her lips.

    Cade didn’t know what he would do, nor even if he could touch the Force in his current state. He’d still have yet to determine if the death sticks had worn off or not. He probably should have, but things were a touch chaotic just now. He took a deep breath, steadied himself, sought for some semblance of peace. Prepared, he reached for the Force. If all went well, he should slip into it like a glove. An ill-fitted glove, most likely, maybe a bit tight. Probably restricted movement as well. He was out of practice, after all. Alright, alright, it wasn’t a perfect metaphor, but it’s not like he was a poet or something. What did you expect?

    TAG: Sinrebirth
     
  7. Shira A'dola

    Shira A'dola Jedi Master star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 4, 2012
    IC: Kandor
    Lolarus’ Cell, Arkanian Sanatorium, Arkania

    Kandor watched the woman with a mixture of fascination, bewilderment and amusement. She absolutely doted on her master. Completely and utterly head over heels for him, she was and he found it hilarious. She obviously had no idea how much of a fool she was making out of herself and he wasn’t inclined to clue her in. On another note, it was clear she could have used a bit of time in this place. Mental, clearly, and he could see that she hadn’t just been playing the good doctor. This woman had actually been Herdstrom for awhile. She must have multiple personalities. I wonder who the real her is, the original. She might be a fun new toy…

    A grin emerged cheekily on his face as he winked at her, ignoring her distasteful nickname. “Well, if she thinks I’ll be useful, then I’m certainly not going to refute her. I’ve no doubt that we’ll be able to help each other out, even if it’s only until we get out of here. Though…” He studied her closely. “I understand now why she was so much fonder of my neighbor than me.” A ridiculous urge to giggle rose up in his throat that quickly disappeared in jealous rage as he saw the exchange of a lightsaber. Hands twitched as he glowered at the pair. Where had those Orderlies put his own saber? He was certain they wouldn’t have thrown it away. No, no, they would have kept it as a trophy, proof they’d actually gotten him, but where would they have put it?

    “You.” He pointed at the little woman. “And I’m talking to whoever thought I’d be useful, if at all possible. I’m assuming with the good doctor’s access and influence around here, which she undoubtedly had if she got Kenny fired, that you’ve got a pretty good handle on the place. I’m looking for a few possessions of mine. Where’s the place they would have held onto them?” He grinned darkly. They’d learn real fast what he did to people who stole from him.

    Focus was swiftly brought back to the present. This was a dangerous situation and he couldn't afford to let his mind wander, as it had a tendency to do. He’d gotten a decent feel for Lolarus in all of their sessions together, but his…what was she? Apprentice? Slave? Business associate? Whatever she was, she was a wild card and he would be a fool to judge her based on his experiences with the good doctor. The two were polar opposites. What was more, she was blindly loyal to her Master and that added a certain degree of danger as well. Not only would she do anything he asked of her without question, but she would also do anything she thought would protect the man without thought and, likely, without permission. To add to all of that, they were still in the Sanatorium. Thousands of orderlies, complicated alarm systems and dozens of defense structures stood between them and freedom.

    Kandor leaned back against the wall of the cell, careful to keep the pain off his face as his ribs cried out for attention. He was waiting for an answer from Lolarus, but whether that answer was cooperation or not, he didn’t care. He was getting out of this one way or the other and the galaxy would know his name again.

    TAG: The Great No One Chukles38
     
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  8. Thrawn1786

    Thrawn1786 Jedi Master star 5

    Registered:
    Feb 8, 2004
    OOC: This is NOT my favorite post by any means. I had a much better one written a few days ago, but my computer ate the only draft I had. :(

    IC: Mirai

    Mirai gleefully skipped down the hallways of the asylum, the explosion that had freed her still ringing and dancing in her ears. It had been a simple enough process: combine a few chemicals here and there to create a rather noisy blast that had removed the front half of her cell, while she had been plastered against the headboard area of her cot, her pretties gathered to her to avoid any accidentally pesky extra destruction. She had been given a valuable gift, and was not about to be the naughty child who spent it all at once. Not her. Not when she was ready to chase the flames, her flames...

    When the wall of her cell had blown away, Mirai knew the flames could sense her coming, and the realization had made her squeal in delight. The chase could begin again. This time, across the galaxy. And thanks to her mysterious benefactor and the contents of the box, it would be easy to find them and revel in them again. Oh the flames, they were so bright....

    Mirai made her way to the east wing, as suggested in the note from her unknown friend. Seeing as her benefactor had been kind enough to give her a box of chemicals, elements, and starter materials to create beauties everywhere, it only seemed right that Mirai do as she was bid. A payment in return, perhaps? The note did not say the gender, species, or anything about her mysterious friend. In any case, Mirai was in their debt, and it was wonderful to comply.

    The janitor's closet, once she found it, was of an unusual size, but was par for the course as to its contents. That was almost a disappointment in itself- silly beings, didn't they know true surprises were best hidden out in the open? Fools- but she would make do.

    Reaching into her box of pretties, Mirai pulled out a small vial and splashed its contents on the floor of the closet, squealing as she did so. Next, she pulled out some nitramidine, throwing it onto the floor as well.

    "The flames, the flames, they burn so bright, the flames, the flames, they take the night," Mirai chanted to herself, reaching for a small packet of matches in the bottom of the box. She started to strike one, then paused. No...something was not right. Not yet. A thought, then another squeal as she grabbed more nitramidine, tossed it into the closet, then pulled out the packet, lit the entire box on fire with one match strike, then threw the small blaze into the closet, snatching up her box of treasures and curling herself around it as the fire hit the floor, igniting and combusting with the fluid and flammable element.

    Moments later, what was left of the closet and the room was enflamed and a foul smell arose. Mirai slowly uncurled herself from her treasure box from where she had been thrown across the room by the blast, grateful for minimal damage to herself. She might be sore later, that was fine, but if she was hurt she'd never forgive herself. To take time away from chasing her flames just because she had a broken leg? What a tragedy that would be!

    Well. Hopefully her benefactor would notice and would have heard the blast. Funny enough, there hadn't been any guards in the area, nor the wing where her cell had been. Perhaps she wasn't the only one improving the conditions and décor of the asylum. That would only be a good thing.

    Where to next? What else should she fix before her grand exit to find the flames? Mirai was familiar enough with the layout of the asylum, having been deemed one of the saner inmates. Beyond the east wing was the more 'public' area of the building, with offices and such. With apologies to Dr. Quill-ey (and not for the first time, Mirai found herself missing her friend), her office could use a change. Or two. Or three.

    Mirai snatched up her pretty box with a grin, scampering toward the front offices. No one would miss a few important patient records. Not when the flames were coming for them. Not when there was work to be done, and smoke to fill the air, and flames to dance and shine in her eyes.

    Tags: Sinrebirth, Chukles38, Shira A'dola, The Great No One
     
  9. HanSolo29

    HanSolo29 RPF/SWC/Fan Art Manager & Bill Pullman Connoisseur star 7 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Apr 13, 2001
    IC: Anakin Solo
    Eclipse, Deep Core, 27 ABY

    They were barely out of the gate when Borga turned her forces against them and all hell broke loose. Anakin should have listened to his father’s advice to never trust a Hutt. It was too late for that now and he was cursing himself for being so naive. The blows just kept on coming and no matter how obvious they were, he continued to put others in danger by falling for them.

    You’re not ready for this sort of thing…what were you thinking--?!

    His thoughts were cut short as a half-dozen Gamorrean Guards came charging for their position, each one wielding a primitive, yet deadly, ax. There was no time to discuss what they were going to do or how they were supposed to salvage this mess. If he did not act quickly (and purely on his instincts) there would be casualties…and not just for the opposing side.

    Anakin cast a sideways glance at Tahiri for a split second before releasing her hand and unhooking his lightsaber from his belt. With the flick of his wrist, the violet blade hissed to life and for a brief moment, he thought he caught a hint of fear in the guards’ eyes. Still…it did little to persuade them. They were essentially mindless drones under the Hutt’s influence and so, they continued to surge forward.

    “We need to let the others know,” he spoke to Tahiri through clenched teeth as he blocked the blow of the first guard. “Get…an alert out! W-we’ve been compromised!” He spun backward as a second guard approached to provide cover for the first.

    Of course, when he instructed Tahiri to contact the others, he did not mean by conventional means. The Force was a powerful ally indeed…


    TAG: Sinrebirth
     
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  10. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    OOC: Later than planned, due to an eaten post, and a lot more posts in-between, the update.

    Chapter Five

    IC: Lylithe Kya
    Nal Hutta, very much on the ground 5 ABY

    Lylithe blinked as the man, tentatively identified to her by a shaky memory of mostly classified-but-not-if-you-knew-how-to-look events before her time, as the agent/traitor/clone Starkiller, charged and annihilated the Stormtroopers that lay before him.

    The old woman was trembling, shaking off Lylithe and crawling away, her robe flipping over her head, a touch of the Force to her. Another Force user, hiding in the squalor here?

    Stark, for his part, would pick up another piece of one-sided conversation, faint as faint, but just about discernible in the noise. You'll see a selection of coordinates appear on the inside of your arm shortly, don't panic, but you need to follow them to safety. There is a great darkness approaching, personal to you, Starkiller.

    Yet no coordinates emerged.

    I'm having trouble making the connection, Jaden

    We're not being jammed, so that can't be it... Could it be that we've found another?

    But which one do we have?

    And then nothing, as Stark's attention would be drew elsewhere.

    With the decimation of the squad the Imperial ambush appeared to have lost some of it's punch, and Jan shouted over the tumult, and although Lylithe could not hear she did look over, and saw Jan was pointing at the assault shuttle that had deposited the second wave, a full squad defending it and desperately setting up an E-web blaster cannon which would definitely end their day, and not with stun bolts this time. It would appear whoever had organised the trap would rather they die than escape.

    Lylithe couldn't decide whether Jan was warning her or deciding they should steal it, being as Kyle appeared tangled up in orbit. Deciding on the latter, Lylithe stood from her disintegrating cover, snapped off a reflexive shot at the trooper who was pinning her down, all reliant on the Force, and shot him in the eye of his helmet at maximum range, and charged the squad in the midst of setting up the e-web. She had taken out one of the four before she realised that the reason they weren't looking overly concerned is that the TIE fighters were sweeping back, spraying fire towards her, overextended, and completely in trouble.

    Damn the Force sometimes, she absently thought.

    Ramza, greyjedi125
    ---
    IC: Mara Jade
    The Wild Karrde, the Krant System, in Bothan Space, 8 ABY

    Kre'frey didn't brook the interference any longer, and both Wild Karrde and Starry Ice rocked with the grip of tractor beams, even as space bent and folded behind them.

    Mara was busy decrypting the signal Aves had supplied, and she found herself staring at a navigation string, potentially with some other data attached that looked as if on enquiry she would activate it. But she could tell it was about to be very moot, unless their captain did something soon...

    Come on Karrde

    Penguinator
    ---
    IC: Pellaeon
    Near Bpfassh, Chimaera, 9 ABY

    C'Boath was staring off Ito space, and Pellaeon found himself wondering where the closest ysalamiri would be, if he was about to see a bout of clone madness.

    'Master C'Boath?'

    They were heading down the command tower towards the Jedi Master's quarters and his memory briefly remembered that there was a shipment of the Force repelling creatures in the hangar bay. On the pretext of an errand, he could head down there quite simply. While C'Boath was in a daze, he redirected the turbolift, as he returned to consciousness, or whatever.

    ...no problem at all.

    That was a decidedly sinister half smile there, and Pellaeon willed the turbolift to arrive, which of course, it did immediately after his wish, and Pellaeon briskly nodded to C'Boath.

    'I must leave you here, Master -'

    And then he could see the unmanned shuttle, but no technicians and so forth, the shipment having, in a rare display of efficiency, been already distributed. Pellaeon's heart sank, but he was an Imperial and he didn't miss a beat of his sentence. '- and commence the inspection of the hangar.'

    It was about as lame as an excuse as one could rationalise, but it was a reason at least.

    RandomComments
    ---
    IC: Kam Solusar
    Tatooine, 14 ABY

    Tionne’s opponent went flying, caught hard by her Force-imbued kick. Kam took a moment to ignite Jaden’s fallen lightsaber as the Disciple flew across the room, and the Disciple was cut in pieces. And then, with the moment Tionne moved towards Kam, their last opponent attempted to split his attention on her arrival, only for Kam to split him in two.


    And then his attention returned to the majordomo. ‘The artefact is gone! My master is dead! Cuf killed him!’

    Jaden, for his part, was stirring, despite still being smoking. He took a deep breath, and then cried out, scratching at his robes. Beneath the shredded robes a series of numbers were appearing on his bare arm, and Jaden winced hard. ‘Ouch.’

    The Force, however, seemed to care very little for artefacts or Jaden, and sung with danger – it screamed, pulsed and throbbed with threat – not a moment before the roof was ripped clear off. Looking up, Kam was shocked to see that a massive white void was perched over the city, consuming the landscape, a venerable sandstorm vanishing into the abyss. The couches and other effects in the rooms were swept up in the maelstrom, and the majordomo outright fainted. The corpses fluttered up, eyes glassy and hands whipping in the wind like marionettes. There were few ships in the air, and one darted up, an Imperial shuttlecraft, and promptly veered off course and shrank down into a dot against the vastness of the whiteness above them.

    Kam swore, loudly. ‘We need to go, like, now.’

    Rolling, Jaden looked up to the ceiling-less ceiling. ‘Docking Bay 95 – the Falcon is there, Chewbacca, vanished into a white...’

    Throwing a glance at Tionne, he reached out for her. ‘Plans? I think I can sense the artefact by the effect it has on the area, blanking out danger – the quiet spot – it’s still on Tatooine, just about. We can track it, or we can go, now.’ He left unspoken that the Force was telling them both that it was connected, somehow.

    The actual bricks atop the walls surrounding them began to rip away, dancing into the sky and really not caring for their small matters of life and death. For, to them, all was the music; the scream of civilians; the ripping of metal and wood and clay; the thrum of violence as a civilisation that was hardly the strongest of communities tore itself apart; the howl of a world that was on the edge of the abyss.

    The symphony of the end.

    Ktala
    ---
    IC: Soontir
    Nirauan, beneath the Hand19 ABY

    Commanded, Stent promptly gave a report without aplomb, or permission from Fel or Parck.

    'The two clawcraft we have are going to be out of commission for at least another hour apiece. Mara Jade did quite a number on them. Ion cannon is tracking as ordered.'

    My name won't mean a lot to you, not yet. Sensors picking up a targeting lock, Thrawn, I hope you're not in command or we're going to have words; I am doing this on your orders after all... Whatever. If you need more evidence that I know more about you than these Imps, perhaps you'd care to look at the navigation string appearing on your arm about now?

    Another tech spoke up. 'Channel open, voice only.'

    'Hello Admiral Parck, Baron Fel, Commander Stent I don't suppose you have a new blue friend do you? One with a familiar face to it?'

    Parck held up a hand to Thrawn, ostensibly ordering to stay silent and, to forestall any further comment, spoke up. 'And what if we did?'

    Stent had already joined the techs in the room, gesturing for Parck and Thrawn step forward to the display to show a voice analysis running.

    'I'm here to pick him up, on the Grand Admiral's orders.'

    'Oh are you,' said Parck, unable to help himself, and lifting his eyes from the display and allowing his voice to turn sour. 'And why would the Grand Admiral leave orders for Jaden Korr?'

    A sigh. 'I wish you hadn't done that. Now I have to play the Grand Admiral's pure sabacc. I was hoping you'd let me hold onto it. But he did know you all, so he'd know you better than me.'

    Details flowed over the screen, telling the Thrawn clone all about the Jedi Knight who had came to prominence against a Sith offshoot known as the Disciples of Ragnos five years earlier, as a Padawan to Master Kyle Katarn, the only other notable point being that Korr had constructed his lightsaber without any prior training whatsoever.

    Fel, leaning over the weapons console, gestured to the comm's officer to mute their end. 'He's about three minutes from coming into range.'

    Jaden's voice grew brittle. 'Your choice. I have my orders, I have the ability to enforce them but I'd rather not do so.'

    His tone change, a note of appeal to it. 'Thrawn, if you are there, take charge before this turns into violence. I have information for your ears only, from your progenitor. Things have changed, or, more precisely, they are about to, and we need you. Once you're done, you can go back to leading the Empire of the Hand or retire for all I care. I doubt your former colleagues have given you that choice.'

    Parck bristled at the word 'retire', as if such a thing was impossible. This man was the clone of Grand Admiral Thrawn. He would do his duty.

    Thrawn1786
    ---
    IC: Borga
    Eclipse, Deep Core 27 ABY

    When a Hutt betrays you, it is almost always out of self-preservation. Rarely do they do it out of baser reasons, even if they view every species apart from their own as a pathetic one. And so it was Borga risked death at the hand of two Jedi rather than what the Faceless One had promised. Sliding away, Borga rushed to her chamber, diverting the bridge controls to that of the remote her major-domo passed her. With a flick of a switch it inverted into a bracelet which fastened itself to her hand, and she promptly went to work on her backup, as illegally obtained from her remaining Shell Hutt contacts as possible.

    Tahir Veila was, beside Anakin, a dervish of deflection and parry, while Gamorrean's plodded towards Anakin. However, her mind was all serenity, weaving with Anakin's to reach out into the Force.

    But what they found was confusion and sorrow. The Jedi flotilla was where it was expected to be, but there was an aching absence in the Force, and Luke, Han, Lando and Leia could not be sensed or found. It was if they had emerged from the Deep Core and vanished, a terrible moment of horror and fear as the Jedi-Hutt-Smuggler force arrived at Talfaglio and had to not only face the Yuuzhan Vong but those impossible losses. A frantic battle was forming in the Force, which felt as ragged as it was desperate, from the impressions Kyp, Corran, Mara, Jaina, Jacen and the rest poured into the Force.

    It was shaping into a disaster, they could both feel it, but there was still tinged concern for them, as the meld realised that Anakin and Tahiri, too, were in danger.

    The Gamorrean lost an ax-head to Anakin's blade, and would have backed off had his comrades not been pushing him forward. In a squeal of rage, he decided instead to launch himself bodily at Anakin, with the intent of using his mass on the Jedi. The others squeaked and squawked encouragement and lunged at Anakin after him.

    The Force, however, sang with danger for them, as Borga equipped herself for battle.

    HanSolo29
    ---
    IC: Brandl
    Near Arkanis, deep space 30 ABY


    The Interrogator manoeuvred well, and positioned itself to intercept both Tam, with a bit of tractor assistance, and Mara and Vitor in their respective fighters had less of an issue when the Imperial Star Destroyer extended its shields to cover them, and also Pellaeon’s shuttle, while the frigate exchanged a long stream of plasma balls at extreme range before the Star Destroyer could bring together its own heavy weapons.

    Maal Lah vented a snarl of frustration, even if he still had the kill of Luke Skywalker to his name – that had not been his target. The Supreme Overlord would be displeased, but he would be even more displeased if Maal lost the frigate. Resources were as low as they could be, and this vessel was far more valuable than any little old man. And so, with another snarl, he gestured to the crew. The prefect interpreted the non-specific movement correctly, and the frigate jumped into hyperspace.

    The Interrogator leapt into hyperspace itself when the various visitors that had arrived were within the embrace of the hangar bay. They would see space for a full squadron of fighters had been laid out, more than enough for Tam, Mara, Vitor and Pellaeon’s shuttle. Before them was a full platoon of Stormtroopers in their best uniforms, two rows of neatness and a single cloaked and elderly man before them, a man that all but Tam would recognise as Aldaric Brandl.

    He would give them a moment to compose themselves before he spoke to them. Miat lowered the shuttle ramp, taking a step to the front and turning back to Pellaeon. ‘Apologies sir, I need to take a moment.’ Vitor replaced her at the ramp, scowling at Miat but nonetheless looking back to the older man. He would have offered to help him from the gun controls, but doubted the ex-Head of State would agree to it.

    Miat rushed to Brandl, and took his side, her words guarded but still kept open to Pellaeon’s shuttle. ‘Master, the Wave has arrived.’

    ‘Yes, I know. We have coordinates for a transmission sent to Tatooine, where it originated. There is a string attached to it which will dominate the systems of any ship that encounters it. It appears to have our signature attached to it, which suggests that we created it.’

    ‘We did? I didn’t think the Protectorate had secrets from you? Have things became that bad in my absence?’

    There was mirth to her words, but Brandl responded harshly. ‘It has a time imprint, from just after the Battle of Endor.’

    ‘So we did in the past?’


    Brandl spoke sharply. ‘Enough now, Temm. We have guests.’

    Imperial Hammer, Skywalker_T-65
    ---
    IC: Ship
    Kavan surface 41 ABY, early

    While a small corner of Hapes burned, Mara Jade took the blunt of the explosion, insofar as much as Jacen deflected it into the caves and surrounding area. That she had not expected, and was caught in the deflected backwash.

    Flipped into Jacen's StealthX, she actually crashed through the cockpit, tearing apart the frame, and landed in a tangle bruised, cut, bloodied and burnt, consciousness ebbing in and out. Above, Lumiya felt expectation grow in her as Jacen sauntered over to Mara's prone form. The Dark Lord would rise, at last. It was a desultory emotion, and she suppressed it, as it did not benefit such a moment. The wave, the One Sith, and now this.

    Ship, however seemed less intrigued, still peering elsewhere, his masts and vanes rotating to pick up as much information as he could. Lumiya tuned out the data, which was all coordinates and projections, estimating the galaxy had one calendar year to live. There were other things, as well, if she cared to look, to study the quiet places that Ship was directing his thoughts away from. Even Jacen would be able to detect it, though from this distance he would be unable to exert his will over Ship to reveal whatever he was concealing.

    Lumiya could feel Jacen's aggression towards her, the betrayal in his being, as if her treachery was somehow personal to him, insofar as much as he had betrayed her too. His indignity was naive, and for a moment she wondered if he was taking all of this far too seriously. His sacrifice was at hand; his ascension assured.

    And then Jacen knelt down and exerted himself to heal Mara, and Lumiya felt herself go nuclear. The pent up rage of a Sith, focused to this exacting moment of revenge, boiled out of her, and for a brief moment Ship was overwhelmed. 'Kill him. Kill them all.'

    Ship's response was timely, attuning himself to Jacen's presence in an exertion of will which was all force, demanding his support, leeching from Jacen whatever he could as Ship instead unleashed the coma gas and overwhelmed Lumiya. Caught completely unaware, the Dark Lady of the Sith was knocked out with just a second to adjust, and Ship descended towards it's true master, letting Jacen know that he intended to serve him now.

    There are greater things at hand than a single Sith vendetta. The Order must be preserved, and the galaxy with it.

    I have much to tell you, Emperor-to-be.

    And then, because he was a Sith Meditation Sphere at the end of the day, added this.

    Or this one can kill you now?

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

    Kyp's blows were deflected promptly, and not-Tenel Ka's impeachment bounced around in his addled mind, so exhausted from his bout of conflict with the Queen Mother and Jaina Solo. It was only because they had worn him out so that he did not have the presence of mind to detect the threat that had made it's way through the forestry beneath him, and the pink, reverse jointed, hand reached up to touch his ankle, threading through his pants leg to connect with bare skin, dampness immediately present. Kyp jerked, looking back, and, as paralysis rushed up his nerves, wobbled to fall off the ledge, the strong hand of the Force propping him up and laying him face down. He briefly struggled against the Force grip, and realised he should have focused on the paralysis just as it reached the base of his spine and blossomed throughout him, sending him into dark oblivion.

    The hand pulled the rest of it's owner up with an exertion which showed the limb was also pink, and then the rest of it - of her - followed; a crest of feathers atop her head, flanked by antennae, a beak curved in a human smile, hard, yellow, eyes, Jedi robes garbing her as if to mask her true intentions behind banal serenity.

    For she was Vergere.

    'Questions can wait,' she raised a crooked hand, settling on her articulated legs like a cat. 'When your lover, Sword of the Jedi, is in so much pain, and,' she turned her eye to little Allana, a truly proprietary look to her gaze, 'when Jacen's daughter is so distressed, no?'

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

    Yammka had not expected that this weed, for want of a Bette word, and even Bacora mentally winced at the conceit of his mental language, would cause so much grief, Bacora could see in his body language. But now Bacora was within a handful of arms reach to a deity, fake or otherwise, and he sweat at the effort to keep himself under control.

    Was Yammka even undermining his ability to reason? And if so, why not Zawahul? Was Yammka simply more adept at manipulating humans and Yuuzhan Vong? Bacora pulled tighter his mental defences, and deactivated his lightsaber, visibility loosening his robes and muscles so as to diffuse the tension in his own body.

    Looking from Zawahul to Bacora, Yammka growled, that multiple voiced noise occurring again. 'My children serve me, not the other way around, for I am their god. So if you profess to follow the True Way, you serve me, also.'

    Bacora folded his arms. 'All I see is a powerful Force user.'

    Yammka took another step forward, poised to speak further, the Force singing with danger, the Yuuzhan Vong tensing at his command but still unsure as to which side they would fall upon; he had failed to incite Bacora to strike at his kin, to ignite hostilities, and now he had to retake the initiative.

    The moment of calmness, however, passed, when Bacora's ship promptly darted across the horizon, an elderly blastboat which was all weapons and automated death. It promptly opened fire, automatically assessing the Yuuzhan Vong as threats, two torpedoes arching out for the yorik trema, bolts stitching at the voids that arose, creating a whirlwind of debris and air when activated in the atmosphere.

    'See! More beguiling, just all the more detailed!' Yammka crowed, reaching up his hands and with a smattering of fingers, sending the torpedoes elsewhere.

    Bacora ignited his lightsaber. 'No! I call off my ship!'

    'It is clear you had no intention of honouring your plant-friends sentiment from the start!' Yammka lifted a hand towards the two Force users, energy gathering.

    'My lord,' a guttural Yuuzhan Vong, one of the middle aged warrior, spoke, raising an arm to place on Yammka's ruined shoulder. 'We cannot war on your sake over misunderstandings. I served with Overlord Shimmra, I know you are compelling us -'

    Yammka visibly throbbed with fury. 'Impudent fool!' He thrashed his chin before the hand reached his shoulder, and the Yuuzhan Vong disintegrated in a burst of the Force. 'You dare not lay a hand on a God!'

    The Yuuzhan Vong lashed out, throwing themselves forward, as Bacora strode forward, whipping his comlink into his hand. 'Designate all Yuuzhan Vong as friendlies apart from that one!' Bacora pointed his lightsaber at Yammka, as the blastboat droid brain came to terms with the new information, shucking a defensive plasma ball from it's shields as it pointed it's nose down at Yammka.

    For his part, Yammka threw his hand up, the ground itself roaring into the sky like a column, throwing half the assaulting Extolled Yuuzhan Vong away before they could cover the distance from their side of the confrontation to the other. A thrown thud bug impacted his chest with no affect before Bacora could take a shaky step forward from the movement behind him and Zawahul, and Yammka fluttered his hand and discarded the rest of the warriors as if irritants. With a handful of paces between the two of them and the deity, the blastboat opened fire, a focused burst from it's weapons array, engulfing Yammka. A mighty exertion in the Force simply saw the man fly away into the jungle, and he promptly began tearing it down in a rage.

    The blastboat oriented, opening itself along one side, the gap lifting upwards, and Bacora promptly reached into the Force and hurled Zawahul aboard. 'Go! I shall hold him!'

    A pair of missiles shot out from the blastboat, and they impacted square where Yammka had been, the area turning white and Bacora reached down, his robes fluttering, the blast boat and the trema buffeted and thrown back, the trema narrowly missing the blastboat with a convergence of plasma fire.

    Inside the blastboat, the AI spoke up. 'Please take a seat and buckle up, I have my orders. The display will show Master Sel as appropriate.'

    Bacora looked up and knew that he would see Yammka standing, in the now cleared jungle. Fire enveloped him, but a silhouette took a step through and emerged unscathed as Yammka, rage pouring off him. Bacora covered the distance in an eyeblink, lashing out with his lightsaber, both hands on the hilt to the overhand blow. Yammka lifted an arm, took the first blow on his left forearm, the second on his other, before catching the point on his palm and pushing it back into the emitter. 'You Jedi and your lightsabers. Take them away, and what are you?'

    Bacora paid him no heed, bunching the Force around his muscles and hands, slamming his fist into Yammka's side to no effect; inverting to kick at him, high blows which Yammka took again on his forearms, impossibly fast, and Bacora grinned, seeing a reaction, not combat training. On the third kick he swapped feet and spun, catching Yammka with a roundhouse kick across the face which sent his mask flying.

    Yammka flinched his head, before turning back with those mismatched eyes, the sloping forehead, the missing nose. Yammka was definitely a Yuuzhan Vong, not some pretender Sith.

    'Oh no,' Yammka said, as if divining his thoughts. 'I am anything but. I am so, so much more than just a Sith.'

    And with that, he negligently waved his hand, a swatting motion which sent Bacora flying, bloodied, bones shattering, his chest all but flying through him and out the other side. He crashed to the ground tasting blood perhaps half a mile away, among the carcasses. He rolled, coughing, and knew Yammka would be standing above him.

    'Jedi scum.'

    His booted foot came down, and Bacora ended. The moment, from the arrival of the blastboat and the engagement beginning, having taken no more than a handful of seconds, six at most; and a Jedi and several Yuuzhan Vong were dead.

    Yammka looked to the skies, to the fleeing blastboat, and intoned, the whole ship vibrating to carry his voice. 'We shall meet again, Zawahul. Unless you have one more thing to say to me?'

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

    Something was happening, Yalta Val thought, but it was something that he could not confirm. Sweeping on to the bridge, he promptly ordered the ship to be prepared for launch, above the protestations that the very last of the cargo was not yet aboard. The discussion was ended by the ignition of his lightsaber, silver glow under the officers chin. The ship starting up, Yalta, donning his full armour and regalia, strode back to the base of the ramp and readied himself.

    For whatever it was that was coming.

    Chukles38, Shira, Thrawn1786, The Great No One
    ---
    IC: Marasiah Fel
    Lok, 137 ABY

    It wasn't going well. It really wasn't. The crew were poised to pull the shuttle upright, but Marasiah and the Jedi could not untangle it. She strained with her mind, the fact that she was not a fully trained Imperial Knight slapping the Princess in the face again and again. Missionary Vao, among the riff-raff, watched expectantly, and that watching, with everyone else's expectations, were too distracting even for a woman as strong-willed as her. Between the wind, the shaking earth, the incessant void of life that seemed to swallow them...

    ... But she was an Imperial, and to be Imperial was to be Order, and she would impose Order upon the galaxy.

    It felt as if the Force slid into place, and, yes, it did. The two of them began to untangle the shuttle, picking at it, undoing the structure wrapped around it; a broken billboard perhaps?

    Cade had of course detached himself from the work crew and moved forward, reaching out with his hands as if a Jedi, and his crew, Jariah and Blue stared at him in disbelief, Jariah in particular with all but fury at the betrayal. To Jariah and Blue, Cade's fluttering unhinged and then uprighted the shuttle, to the amazement of the work-crew, all holding their chains and rope ready to pull. Jariah unhooked his blaster and strode forward, as much as Blue moved across to interpose herself between him and Cade.

    Reality was, however, that Cade's gesturing did nothing physical. For if the Force was indeed an ill-fitting glove, it slid off and dropped to the floor, being swept away in the wind. It was as if he was a musician who now no longer understood the music, deaf and dumb, blinded and lost. But perhaps today was the only one in which he would understand what he had lost.

    Mara winked at him. 'Oops,' and vanished entirely.

    'Cade what the frak are you-'

    'Jariah stop whatever the -'

    The rest of those thoughts were cut short by Marasiah looking behind her and her hands reaching out and yanking the three of them forward as a void yawned open behind her and consumed the rest of the gang, Marasiah's hands flexing in horror as she lost Missionary Vao. Hosk Trey'lis grabbed at her arm, pulling her close as the void began to all but suck at them, drawing a wave of debris into it's mass. 'Down!'

    Throwing themselves down, a piece of masonry promptly flipped through the space where there heads had occupied, Jariah's eyes still fixated on Cade even though he had pulled Blue down too, his hair whipping around his head like snakes would on a shaper.

    'We need to go!' a voice called out, and by the shuttle Marasiah saw that one of the other ruffians had survived, a human in a black and purple shirt and pants ensemble, holster empty of any weapon but, apart from an eyepatch, otherwise unremarkable in the way he scrabbled across the disintegrating floor up the descending shuttle ramp, jostled in the current, the ship rocking precariously.

    Marasiah threw free the Bothan's hand, marching up the ramp with tears glistening. She shook her head, releasing her hair from it's clasp and sending it spilling out, and dislodging the watery pearls from her eyes, and as she flicked a glance over her shoulder she saw them, too, bore by the wind into the depths.

    Jariah cast Blue off him, stalking towards the shuttle. Throwing a look that was all venom as he passed Cade, he spat at him. 'We're done.'

    Blue uncertainly came up to Cade, eyeing him and wordlessly heading towards the shuttle one shaking step at the time as the void tugged at her. By the time they were all aboard, the spacer - 'you can all call me Cuf for now' he had said - was taking the controls, having taken them through a lightning preflight check.

    The shuttle broke orbit in smouldering silence, Hosk with his shaken serenity, Marasiah with her grief, Syn with his rage, Deliah with her uncertainty, and Cuf with a focus bordering on glee, watching as Lok cracked, and fell into itself, being drawn into a void and winking out of existence. The shuttle embraced hyperspace just as the systems primary, absorbing all manner of debris and the innermost planet as the outermost ones no longer held it back from the embrace of fire, went supernova, a flash that abruptly became a whimper as the void, too, consumed that.

    Stony, and standing in the passenger area behind the cockpit, Syn promptly drew his blaster and pointed it at Cade, as Marasiah drew his lightsaber and pointed it at him, Blue reflexively drawing and pointing at Marasiah, Hosk adding his lightsaber to the tangle of standoff. Jariah paid no attention to the others, revealing a detonator in his hand. 'World's going to pot anyway, may as well take another stinkin' Jedi with me, eh, Cade?'

    Blue grimaced. 'Syn, we don't have time for -'

    'Can it Blue. He played us. Probably played you too. Ever wondered why he makes you want to be straight with one guy? Well now you know. Jedi messed with your head.'

    Marasiah spoke up. 'Enough. I just saved you and I -'

    'You can shut your trap too, Princess.' Jariah snapped. 'Yeah, I know your pretty face. Nice fat bounty on you too, but you'll keep nice and quiet unless you want me to blow you apart.'

    His attention returned to Cade. 'So? What's it gonna be?'

    Chukles38
    ---
    IC: Pollock
    Unknown Regions, 146 ABY

    The Captain, Pollock, it turned out, led her towards the medbay, towards Lenea's brother, towards Danny. The reason for his absence in the Force was obvious when she saw him; hooked up to a cage of cables, a gaping hole in his side, inflicted by a lightsaber that appeared to have been partially circled around before being removed - he was all but invisible in the Force because he was only just still here.

    'And I cut you off, didn't want you to feel it,' he said, weakly, as if intuiting the flow of her thoughts. Pasty skinned, with eyes partially burned yellow from the Force exertion, he deflated slightly, if at all possible, appearing all the more deathly. 'Too much effort now, sorry.' He closed his eyes, and let out a breath, blood dribbling down the corner of his mouth.

    And he let it out. Through their bond as siblings flowed it all; the wound in his side, which had taken his kidneys, half a liver, most of his stomach, with it; the poisons of his own body waste circulating through him, corroding at him; the fire of an infection in the lung above the wound; the numbness consuming his upper leg, as he lost sensation in the nerves running down it, dying from lack of blood, cauterised and cut off from the rest of him.

    And then the psychic wound overflowed from him, and a flitter of images showing the fall of their home, no, their triumph over the marshalled and remnant forces of the Sith Imperium, spent on firstly winning the Shadow War and then the coup launched by Darth Insipid, as his clone Darth Malkuth had taken to calling himself as the renewed Dark Lord, before the horror of the system being swallowed up by gravitic anomalies that had caught the battered Jedi forces by surprise, even as the Sith Nihilists were on the retreat, no real evacuation possible due to the battle.

    A hand was lain on Danny's forehead, and the Force flowed from the gray- eyed man into him, and the pain and horror subsided, and Lenea would feel this stranger taking it into himself, diminishing the pain that both would be feeling. Lightning seemed to lick at his free hand, and he fluttered his fingertips, dispelling it. Knowing Lenea would notice, he looked over. 'My name is Jaden. I'm here to help.' He glanced over to Danny. 'I will give you two a moment.'

    Jaden took his leave, but continued his administrations from afar, drawing away the pain from Danny so he would remain coherent. Her brother, eyes opening slowly, turned his head to look at her, a weak smile to his blue lips. 'I'm a bit of a mess, I'm afraid.'

    Skywalker_T-65
    ---
    IC: Chosen One
    Coruscant, 600 ABY

    The High Inquisitor was promptly slashed in two, impaled by Lora on her promptly ignited blade. 'You fool!' The One cursed aloud, as the comlink flittered into his hand. With a twist of will, he activated it, pushing off his walking cane to level his other hand at her. From his fingertips came a blast of green lightning, and he backed towards one of the two exits, the one leading to his pre-prepared ship, atop the central spire of the Jedi Temple, the other to the depths below.

    'Inquisitors, to me!'

    As he spoke the Force rustled with the sensation of a score of Inquisitors, High or otherwise, responded to the call of their Chosen One. The Force would flash with alarm, with a torrent of danger, if Lora fled that way.

    The One cast aside the comlink and redoubled his blast of emerald lightning, two hands instead of one, as he knew she would inevitably rush him before he could reach the hangar exit. He thrashed his neck, the gesture echoed in the Force as he sent his heavy golden throne tumbling towards her.

    He would not be killed by a pretender.

    DarkLordoftheFins
     
  11. Mitth_Fisto

    Mitth_Fisto Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 29, 2005
    IC: Jaina Solo
    Kashyyyk, Shadowlands, 41 ABY

    While she waited for Kyp to make his move Jaina had to put aside the thoughts that sprang at Tenel Ka's words. For a brief moment the words that Amelia was a child struck a cord, one that sickened her that she had seen to the safety of those infront of her and left her niece or half sister depending on one's point of view, to fend for herself along with her mother. Only a quick glance quieted her discomfort with herself as she saw the girl was safe and Tenel Ka was focused on what was before them.

    Looking forward once more she saw the hand and was torn, in the moment she had no time to think, only to watch or act. And with how Kyp was acting she was left to merely watch. A part of her had a gut wrenching moment to ponder if something new and unknown to her had come up from the bowels of the great forest of her beloved family to defend this spot and consume some taste of revenge for the fires that could of been prevented.

    Only it was nothing so simple, nothing so easily understood. As Kyp went down and the tickle of recognition at the hand blossomed with the body into full blown shock she dipped her blade as Kyp faded into the Force as one drawn low and under. Of course the blade did not dip in deferral to the being, rather to adjust for the shorter height of her throat.

    The mention of her lover made her balk, but the mention of Amelia's parentage made her take a step forward her gaze hardening. "I thought you were dead." she simply stated in return. As for her 'Ex-lover' she felt well enough that Jag would resent any coddling at the moment. A sentiment she was glad not to extend.

    TAG: Sinrebirth, spycoder9
     
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  12. Chukles38

    Chukles38 Jedi Master star 5

    Registered:
    Jun 10, 2005
    OOC: Here's Cade. I'll see about a crazy quartet post tomorrow.

    IC: Cade Skywalker
    Shuttle

    Cade wasn’t happy. Damn hallucinations, caused all sorts of grief sometimes. Still, she’d been worth it, and since it seemed she wasn’t really his great-something-grandmother, he wondered how the moral implications applied to the situation. Mostly as a distraction, mind. Things had gone to pot, not just out in the ‘verse, but here in the shuttle too. Of course Jariah couldn’t fathom that Cade hadn’t actually done anything. Only Cade knew that. Maybe the princess and her bothan… whatever he was. He decided he’d go with boyfriend, as it seemed most humorous.

    As the general peace of the shuttle broke apart, a blaster leveled at Cade’s face, things seemed quite chaotic, though not for Cade. He’d like to say he had found peace or some such, but really he was just depressed. And pissed. Though a little more depressed if he’d had to put it to a vote. Not by much, you understand, just enough to not give one slippin’ Force Sith poodoo… ah kriff it all, he couldn’t even get his swears straight. Jaraiah would be ashamed. Oh, wait…

    Cade’s eyes were closed as he took a moment to decide his course of action. He could, of course, try and draw on Syn, but that seemed a piss poor idea for many reasons, least of which being he might lose. There was a certain amount of wiggle room, if he played it right. Maybe play the death sticks card, though then Syn might shoot him for making that landing high as a mynock in a windstorm… or something. Might as well just go straight out with it. He supposed his friends deserved it or some such. Besides, his inability to use the Force on demand had done a number on him. He flat out just didn’t care. That and his death sticks were gone. And his supplier. Those little tidbits didn’t help either. Oh yeah, and the Mynock. Not to mention Luke, cause that one was still gnawing at him. You know what, this had been a kriffin’ terrible day. How did he feel about that?

    Angry. Yes, he thought he’d give angry a whirl. His opened his eyes, gaze leveled at Syn. He’d been relaxing against the wall of the shuttle, but now his body tensed, though not for the reason Syn might consider. Still, with a shrug, Cade managed a nonchalant sort of voice when he spoke. “We all got a past, Syn. You do what you gotta do.” Cade gestured about him, in a general sort of way indicating all of the universe, before returning his arms to a folded position. He was proud of that. The urge to sock Jariah had been strong, but he'd resisted. “Not that it matters much, one way or the other. Somethin’ like that fillin’ up the kriffin’ black, well… I doubt it’s localized here. Just my two cents, mind. Might want to focus more on stayin alive, if that’s even possible.” Jariah would do what Jariah felt he must. Cade had no doubt about that. Maybe he’d shoot, maybe he wouldn’t. Cade’s money was on not, but either way he could accept that. The real question now was this; if the blaster bolt came, would he even try to dodge it?

    TAG: Sinrebirth
     
  13. DarkLordoftheFins

    DarkLordoftheFins Jedi Grand Master star 5

    Registered:
    Apr 2, 2007
    Lora Skywalker
    Coruscant, 600 BBY

    From here on things would be simple. Really simple. Kill or be killed.

    The Chosen One had come to the end of his path and it would be Lora who would have to end the insanity of his reign or die trying. All her live she had fought, all her live she had placed herself in mortal danger. All her live she had killed. Since the first Sith she had ended when they had raided the Praxaeum on Kamparas she had never stopped killing. How old had she been back then? 8? Yes, she had been eight when she had entered her masters chambers, firghtened and yet dutiful leading her fellow Padawans away from the fighting only to find the dead body of her Master lying there and a grinning, satisfied, hungry Sith over him. She had no lightsaber back then. She had no training in combat techniques. No, all she had was the force.

    She remembered how it felt draining every bit of live from the Sith's soul. She remembers him begging and collapsing before her, the little girl he had considered easy prey. She remembered how good it felt. She had never stopped having this feeling. She had never stopped killing. And not only Sith. Having served alongside the Inquisition, she had also had her share of traitorous Jedi. And those died for defying the very man she was about to kill.

    The One. The endlessly failing, passive holder of power. The looser who considered himself almost a God and who had brought the galaxy to the brink of collapse. The traitor to the force, for denying himself to see . . . he was not chosen. He was a steward and now the Queen had returned.

    Her lightsaber rotated in her hands. He was at a distance when he raised his hands. Power, oh he had power . . . but the experience of a Padaan when it came to combat, solely relying on his force fueled superiority to win a battle. Yet, why was he fleeing then? Probably because he knew that many before him had tried that.

    Lora charged, as expected . . . she was fast and he knew that. But what he did not understand was that she was a warrior and he was not. Making best use of his mistake she waited, patiently all the 5 to 10 splitseconds . . . which could be dragged into an eternity in moments like this . . . until his hands were up an the uncontrolled lightning bristled from his fingers. It was then he could not stop it so easily. It was then he would probably see his mistake and watch the consequences unfold helplessly. Because if used at such a distance . . . lightning could easier be dodged than blocked.

    Something you did not learn in a throne room.

    Lora pushed herself with the force up and then against the wall, taking two steps there as if defying gravity, before psuhing herself even harder to the ceiling, to jump from it back to the ground bridging the lightning . . . she would land behind him and he would certainly turn. The trick was . . . if he did she might be dead. So she would never let him. He lightsaber would strike low at his legs where his staff was least effective to block. He would maange to do so anyway, she was sure. Which is why her second attack was meant to bethe real one. She would use her free hand to grab his neck and simply, effectivly break his neck, by shattering his spin in a single, quick turn.

    The raw satisfaction of killing a man with the bare hands was still sepcial to her. She would enjoy making the One a simple man by feeling it.

    Tag: Sinrebirth
     
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  14. greyjedi125

    greyjedi125 Chosen One star 6

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

    *{A memory} He’d been a child, a happy cherubic youngling. The forest should have been daunting with its giant trees and towering canopies. But they instilled a sense of security, not fear. The tall furry sentients, the ‘wooks’, as he called them. They seemed a ferocious lot, but they also possessed an underlying gentility. They were both protectors and caretakers. There was nothing to fear. Especially with ‘Dada’ around.

    He would pull down his father’s hood to see the man’s full face and immediately it would light up, causing him to laugh as he held it gingerly with his small hands. There was peace and security here, a serenity that went beyond a child’s ability to describe. His father’s adoration was like the sun. Ever present, inexorable.

    That was, until they came. The men in white. The whiteshells…and not far behind, followed the man in BLACK.

    Vader

    The whiteshells. They were only the beginning….}

    “YOU DID THIS!!!!”

    The flash of his blue lightsaber streaked its deadly pattern through the air, decimating stormtroopers. Whiteshells.

    But no matter how many he ravaged or sliced to a plethora of smoldering pieces, the anguish at the center of his being would not abate. Nothing could satiate his despair.

    Driven only by adrenalin, a hand shot out, fingers splayed.

    Nothing.

    No gout of lightning brilliance emerged to scorch his enemies, no cone of telekinetic might to pulverize his target had emerged. Nothing.

    “AAARRGH!!”

    More blaster bolts. At least he managed to deflect most of them with his weapon as he cartwheeled out of the way. Getting shot now was like a blessing. The jolt would keep him from shutting down. An upturned vehicle provided partial cover for the moment. The whiteshells. He had to kill them all.

    But it was getting harder to think, to stay focused with all those voices and memories colliding inside his mind. They would always come unbidden and at the worst of times. Those damned voices....

    You’ll see a selection of coordinates appear on the inside of your arm shortly, don’t panic, but you need to follow them to safety. There is a great darkness approaching, personal to you, Starkiller.

    The revenant gritted his teeth as he grumbled his objection.

    “I…am…Stark!!”

    It was impossible to tell if what he was experiencing was a memory, or something actually happening to him in real time. Without even thinking about it, he’d looked at his arm. But there were no coordinates there. Of course not!

    Stark shook his head in an attempt to clear his mind.

    But, the voices persisted, despite his resistance.

    I’m having trouble making the connection, Jaden. said one voice.

    We’re not being jammed, so that can’t be…could it be that we’ve found another? said a second voice.

    But which one do we have? inquired the first.

    “OUT!!! get…OUT!!!” The revenant commanded the voices. And for a moment, it seemed they had heeded his words as his mind became quiet again.

    A woman was shouting not far from him. He looked over at the dark haired female, who was pointing at something. Stark followed and saw the E-web blaster cannon. His eyes grew wide at seeing the weapon emplacement. A shuttle was also depositing a second wave of whiteshells into the frey.

    As he watched, a whiteshell went down from a headshot. His head snapping back from the impact before he crumpled to the floor. However, that alone had not drawn his attention. Someone else had it. Someone else was using the Force.

    Stark’s head swiveled and his eyes fell on a woman now rushing the squad of whiteshells and their intended weapon.

    Juno? Juno had the Force?? Stark thought as he stood up suddenly from behind his cover.

    There wasn’t time to think as danger flared once again. From his position he could see the TIE fighters sweeping back and Juno was in the path of their fire.

    “No…..”

    Before he even realized it, Stark’s body was already his motion. He ran at full tilt and pushed himself like never before. He ignored all pain and discomfort as he focused only on Juno. He had to reach her as fast as he could, with all his might. He needed to tackle her out of harms way…..he simply had to.

    A galaxy without Juno was not worth living in.


    Tag: @Sinrebirth
     
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  15. Random Comments

    Random Comments Jedi Grand Master star 5

    Registered:
    Sep 25, 2012
    IC: Joruus C'Baoth
    Near Bpfassh, Chimaera, 9 ABY

    It was pitiful, frankly, the behavior of mortals towards their ruler. No respect, no true understanding of his insight and power.
    Did he not know the mind, even the secret thoughts, of those who served him? Had he not halted the asteroid, the moon, which had, in its delusion, attempted to destroy his city, indeed Wayland itself, and cast it out into the depths of space? Was he not the Master and Lord of the Force, and was its great power not under his command?
    Yet still they thought to hide from his gaze, and shied from understanding. "Commence the inspection of the hangar," indeed. A fool could see that there was nothing to inspect, and C'Baoth was no fool. He saw in Pellaeon, in his face, his mind, fear, a desire to flee from him while retaining dignity, to escape his Master through a transparent lie.
    Yet again, this Captain Pellaeon brought distraction, and this time C'baoth had reached his limit. He would not allow this again. Pellaeon would need time to understand his mistake, and C'Baoth needed no more distraction. The shuttle was there, the answer obvious. And if he could advance his plans and provide his punishment, so much for the better.
    "Captain Pellaeon." He called out clearly, and Pellaeon turned.
    "You will board that shuttle, and make the trip to Wayland. When you arrive, you will proceed to the Mount Tantiss stronghold, and prepare a Spaarti cylinder using sample B-2332-54. You will see to the preparations and development personally, and once all is completed, you will return with my servant to the Chimaera, flagship of my Empire. I merely wish a servant, and I trust none else to complete this job properly. You must go immediately."
    He could see the struggle of warring emotions and reactions to this directive on Pellaeon's face, but he felt certain that it would be obeyed. The art of Force persuasion had always been a particular specialty, and Pellaeon's mind was hardly the most complex he had encountered and successfully dealt with. Without waiting for Pellaeon to board the ship or respond, C'Baoth turned and reentered the turbolift. He had a navigation string to follow.
     
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  16. Ktala

    Ktala Force Ghost star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 7, 2002
    Jedi Knight Tionne
    Tatooine, Mos Espa, 14 ABY, early year


    Tionne’s was moving back towards Ka, even as her opponent went flying. She had not had a chance to check on Jaden yet, as they still had another attacker to deal with. Luckily, the Force was with them, because as she moved to join Kam, the last Desciple was trying to adjust the both of them, and Kam was able to quickly dispatch them.

    It was then that Tionne heard the other twi'lek screams. ‘The artefact is gone! My master is dead! Cuf killed him!’ That was of no surprise, considering what had just happened. It was what usually happened when those who alterier motives were stirred by greed.


    "Ouch!" Tionne heard from the other part of the room. Luckily Jaden it seemed was still with them, as was beginning to move. He seemed as if something was bothering him, and he winced hard, as Tionne could see something on his arm. Was it a wound or .. Tionne gave Kam a wink, and then turned to quickly head towards Jaden, to see if she could perhaps help him.

    However, the Universe had other plans for them, as suddenly the Force seemed to pulsate a warning within the Force as something that she had never felt before in her life. Her eyes opened wide, just as the roof was ripped clear off the building. Tionne crouched down, using the Force to help stabilize herself, as both she and Kam looked up to see..

    Nothingness.

    No, that was not right there was something there. It was just that TIonne had no idea what it was. massive white void was perched over the city, consuming the landscape, a venerable sandstorm vanishing into the abyss. Tionne began to use her skills to bat the various objects that came flying towards her away, as they were swept up into the storm above them all. Whatever it was, it seemed massive, and with no signs of stopping. The few unlucky ships in the air, that had the misfortune to be there were quickly yanked up. Tionne could see an Imperial shuttlecraft that veered off and was swallowed by the thing above him.

    Kam swore, loudly. ‘We need to go, like, now.’ Tionne quickly nodded her agreement, her hair now whipping around her head. Tionne quickly moved towards Jaden, and saw him roll, and then look up. She heard him telling them something, the wind trying to suck the words away from him, but she heard him as he spoke. ‘Docking Bay 95 – the Falcon is there, Chewbacca, vanished into a white...’

    Tionne quickly grabbed Jaden, and using her aly of the Force once more, began to move him out of the room, even as Kam reached out his hand towards Tionne.

    ‘Plans? I think I can sense the artifact by the effect it has on the area, blanking out danger – the quiet spot – it’s still on Tatooine, just about. We can track it, or we can go, now.’

    Tionne pushed Jaden forward, towards Kam. "We go, now." she stated with a grunt, as she held on to her instrument, now tucked behind her, as she moved quickly. She pointed towards the now unconscious twi'lek majordomo. "Im guessing that Cuf is trying to erase his tracks..and us along with them using the artifact."

    Tionne took a look out at the walls quickly disappearing. She then headed for the way they had taken to get in, using the quickly disappearing cover of the walls, to escape, and head for the docking bay area. She hoped that whatever was attacking them, had not yet effected that part of Tatooine yet.

    But now, it was time to run.


    TAG: Sinrebirth
     
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  17. Skywalker_T-65

    Skywalker_T-65 Jedi Grand Master star 6

    Registered:
    Nov 19, 2009
    IC: Lenea Sandstrider
    Corvette

    Lenea didn't cry. She hadn't for years, her emotions typically in check before she could reach that point. That had been true for so long, that she had almost forgotten what it had felt like. And yet...

    'And I cut you off, didn't want you to feel it.'

    Hearing those words...seeing what had happened to her brother...Lenea felt tears falling from her eyes. Her feet shakily carried her forward, before she collapsed next to the bed. It took every bit of her willpower to not try and take Danny's hand. Try and ease what he had to be feeling. This was...she didn't know how he was alive. She didn't know...but she did know that it felt like her heart was breaking even more. Her brother...reduced to this...

    'Too much effort now, sorry.'

    Lenea forced herself to not wince. She felt everything Danny was feeling. And she couldn't...wouldn't...let that show. It wasn't her stupid pride, it was wanting to keep him from worrying.

    "Don't worry about me," she said, a watery chuckle coming from her lips, "worry about yourself Danny..."

    Of course he would apologize for making her feel his pain. Like it mattered to her. She could feel everything he felt, and it still wouldn't equal the pain in her chest. Lenea was no medic. But even she could see that her sibling didn't have much time left. And it just brought home the fact that she was going to be alone after all. She was so lost in those thoughts and doing what she could to ease her brother's pain, that Lenea almost didn't notice the man suddenly standing over him.

    Nonetheless, she almost reached for her lightsaber before she felt the grey-eyed man drawing the pain away from her sibling. Forcing herself to relax, she equally forced a slight smile in thanks as she saw the man turn to look at her.

    'My name is Jaden. I'm here to help.' He glanced over to Danny. 'I will give you two a moment.'

    Lenea could feel the pain leaving Danny's body. The pain may have been fading...but that was it. As her brother opened his eyes, she could still see that he knew. He knew as well as she did that 'Jaden's' moment was just that...a moment or two. What can you say in a moment? How could you find anything to say?

    'I'm a bit of a mess, I'm afraid.'

    That certainly wasn't it. The absurdity of that understatement managed to draw a weak laugh and a raised eyebrow from the younger sibling.

    "Danny, I think its a bit worse than that!" Lenea said, trying to make some sort of humor leak into her voice.

    After all, she was going to make sure that these last few moments were worth it.

    TAG: Sinrebirth
     
  18. Sinrebirth

    Sinrebirth Mod-Emperor of the EUC, Lit, RPF and SWC star 10 Staff Member Manager

    Registered:
    Nov 15, 2004
    IC: Lylithe Kya

    Nar Shaddaa, very much on the ground 5 ABY

    Starkiller was being erratic in almost every manner apart from one; protecting Lylithe. Which was fine, for now, but afterwards? She couldn't say. But at least there would be an afterwards.

    The TIE fighters strafed her, and she was poised to be hit, when she was bodily slammed to the ground. Wincing, she nonetheless kept her aim, taking down another Stormtrooper, and then putting a bolt through the E-web before it could be setup. The two remaining troopers went to draw a bead on her as she hit the ground, wincing and rolling in the grip of whomever had tackled her, but she could see that the two troopers were promptly gunned down by a one woman charge of Jan, using Lylithe's attack as a distraction.

    It was only then that Lylithe looked to her savior, and locked eyes with Stark, who she only recognised from intelligence reports, and he would undoubtedly recognise that she was not Juno Eclipse.

    'Um, hi?'

    The TIEs screeched, reorienting for a return strike, and she craned her head up. 'We need to go, Starkiller.'

    Meanwhile, elsewhere, a memory was rising unbidden in Kyle Katarn's memory - a memory of the Battle of Endor, of, before Lando and Wedge could escape, the second Death Star vanishing in an orb of brilliant whiteness, of the shock throwing the atmosphere of Endor askew, of the warring fleets, Imperial and Rebel alike, being disrupted mid-flow, of his ship careening towards the sphere of energy, impossibly expanding, impossibly drawing him in, of an ending occurring before now...

    ... It was a moment of deadly distraction, sufficient to allow an Interdictor to latch onto Katarn's ship with a tractor beam and start drawing a bead with it's quadlaser batteries.

    One way or another; it would be over for Kyle shortly unless he reacted.

    Ramza, greyjedi125
    ---
    IC: Mara Jade
    The Wild Karrde, the Krant System, in Bothan Space, 8 ABY

    Mara pulled a face, and decided that loyalty was simply not enough, yanking the data she had from the system with a datacard, she abandoned her post and rushed for the escape pods as Karrde's indecision threatened her existence. Having already remotely activated the command escape pod, complete with hyperdrive, she was off the Wild Karrde in a handful of moments, and, before Kre'frey could target her, she positioned herself to jump, using the Karrde and Starry Ice as a shield from the anomaly.

    Guilt wracked her, but Mara had no choice. This data was more important than a crime lord, than a petty Bothan officer, than an ex-Hand. She would find the Empire's leadership, give them it, save them...

    ... Nonetheless, she cast an eye back to Karrde and the little confrontation occurring behind her, as the orb caught up with them. There was a flicker of pseudo-motion which Mara could not discern from the competing energies, and then she, too, jumped, as the anomaly consumed the whole scene, and moved on towards Bothawui, unperturbed.

    Penguinator
    ---
    IC: Pellaeon
    Near Bpfassh, Chimaera, 9 ABY

    C'Boath's order took root in Pellaeon's mind, but the voice for C'Boath seemed to show disagreement.

    We're losing him, did you send him the correct coordinates?

    Maybe not.

    We need him! Re-do it, now!

    No response was forthcoming, but the coordinates on C'Boath's arm shifted to that of stellar coordinates; if he knew his cartography, it was a world deep on the Unknown Regions... And as such he would likely need that shuttle, clone project or not...

    ... Further, an override command interrupted the turbolifts movement; a high level interception which meant it could not move until it took on certain cargo...

    ... a contingent of Stormtroopers became apparent from the other side of the shuttle, one of which raised his hand to salute Pellaeon as he ambled towards the shuttle. 'Captain Pellaeon, can I assist?'

    'I am taking this shuttle to Wayland.'

    'Sir?' The trooper looked past Pellaeon to C'Boath. 'We have orders from the Grand Admiral himself that the shuttles contents were not to be interrupted and that they were not to be revealed to anyone.'

    'You heard me, trooper.'

    The other troopers glanced at the other as Pellaeon slightly turned to the aft of the ship, and recognised it's cargo with some incredulity. 'A Spaarti cloning cylinder?'

    The troopers were clearly conferring on their helmet comms, and one raised a blaster and shot Pellaeon, a blue bolt consuming him. 'Sorry, sir. Our chain of command doesn't include you.'

    And at that they turned on C'Boath, levelling four rifles between them. 'Dark Jedi, surrender.'

    RandomComments
    ---
    IC: Kam Solusar
    Tatooine, 14 ABY

    Kam nodded, helping up Jaden and gesturing for the major-domo to levitate him in the Force. 'Time to go.'

    Jaden led them, shakily, but as quickly as he could, through the chaos of the city, what was left of it, to the docking bay where the Falcon lay. It was surrounded by a trio of troopers with a single Disciple, the Sith acolyte trying to prise open the ramp of the Falcon with the Force, unable to overcome the Force-user-proof security Han had installed with ease.

    'We don't have time for this,' said Jaden, drawing his lightsaber as they knelt behind the wreckage of an Imperial shuttle - a building having toppled on it - not a moment before the anomaly in the sky swelled again, the ground quaking, and the Falcon rocking on it's struts.

    Kam suddenly felt a sharp pain in his chest, a memory ensnaring his mind as an experience changed for him; his Force powers writhed, the major-domo hurling into the sky and then the anomaly as his clothes suddenly turned black, his lightsaber crimson, and he screamed; the noise drawing the attention of the troopers and they opened fire, blasters hammering at their cover.

    Jaden knew Kam had once been a Dark Jedi - and it seemed like he was becoming so again, impossibly. But there were plenty of impossibilities here, and now. He ignited his lightsaber, glanced at Tionne, grimacing. 'Which one do you want?'

    Ktala
    ---
    IC: Vergere
    Kashyyyk, 41 ABY

    Vergere, speaking before Tenel Ka could, responding to Jaina's assertion with nothing than a shrug, paying no need to the lightsaber now at her throat.

    Vergere flexed a hand, palm upwards, and shrugged. 'By not being in the A-wing at all. It was a simple matter to manipulate it with the Force from afar, to ensure my presence was attached to it, and then ram it where necessary. The difficulty was simply ensuring you would not detect where I was manipulating it from.' She crossed her arms. 'It was a rather blatant trap, either way. I would have been foolish to fall for it, and Jacen was well on his way already.'

    Vergere laughed to herself, all ice and amusement. 'An unarmed A-wing happening to be the only available fighter craft in the same hanger as Jacen's X-wing? Nothing else? I had no choice but to fly into the battle of Ebaq 9 in an incredibly vulnerable position if I needed to protect Jacen from his last act of stupidity, which Lumiya knew.'

    Again a fluid shrug. 'What can you do? Sith betray. I should have known better.'

    Mitth-Fisto, spycoder9
    ---
    IC: The Mental Space in the Head of Darth Lolarus
    Arkania, 108 ABY

    A voice went out of key; a new voice, yet an old one, at the same time.

    Where am I?

    Briefly, in Darth Lolarus' minds eye, a green skinned and slightly overweight Twi'lek would speak up, stepping so his back was to a mental wall and sitting down, before drawing his knees up to his chest and wrapping his arms around them. I was on Tatooine, and now, what has happened?

    The Twi'lek - Cecil Roth - would speak not just inside his head, but through his tongue, before vanishing into the maze of Lolarus' mind, lost to thought and memory.

    It would be an odd moment, to anyone who knew him, and even odder to him.

    Chukles38, Shira, Thrawn1786, The Great No One
    ---
    IC: Marasiah Fel
    Departing Lok, 137 ABY

    Marasiah took an opportunity to peer at the ruffian who stood at the corner of her shuttle, conscious that she was letting a different ruffian fly it, hyperspace streaking past them.

    The stalemate was a tense one, but the Hosk seemed more interested in this 'Cade', and she knew could not rely upon the Jedi healer. As if confirming her thoughts, the Bothan muttered the man's name under his voice, as if lost in distant memory.

    Blue looked from Cade to Jariah, all scowls. 'So what, Jariah? We've all done things we're not proud of. Cade has been a member of Rav's crew for going on seven years. We both owe him our lives.'

    'Huh,' said Syn, scoffing. 'We're still Rav's lackies. And we're doing this for his deathsticks, remember.'

    'So what if he has a few issues?'

    'Can't fix everythin', Blue.'

    'Can we move on,' said Marasiah. 'We have that detonator to consider, after all.'

    Syn pulled a face. 'Shut your trap, Princess. You're gonna take this ship to where I want, and I'm gonna collect the bounty on you and leave these morons behind.'

    'I afraid that won't happen,' came a voice from the cockpit. 'I didn't have a lot of time to calculate a jump,' said Cuf as he stepped into the hold. 'And there were these coordinates on the emergency channel, so I grabbed them, and, well... They've locked me out.'

    He gestured towards the cockpit. 'You're welcome to check for yourself, as I can't fix it.'

    Marasiah stepped back to check the display. It was locked on to a planet she did not know in the Unknown Regions, deep in old Empire of the Hand territory. Scowling, she deactivated her lightsaber, knowing that only a diplomatic solution would solve this. 'He's right.'

    Jariah lowered his blaster and dropped his detonator in a bag on his belt, shrugging. 'Blue, care to have a go?'

    Blue glanced at him. 'Not gonna kill Cade?'

    'Not yet, no. I need to work out Cuf's angle before I commit. But I'm gonna call the shots as long as I have this.' He lightly tapped his belt again. 'And you all know this.'

    Marasiah narrowed her eyes, and decided to head towards the rear hold. 'Once you're done, call me so we can have another chat as constructive as this one.'

    Cuf took a few steps. 'Perhaps we should talk, Princess.' He appraised Cade. 'And perhaps you will get more out of this than me.' He tossed a deathstick Cade's way, before lightly tapping his jacket, more clinking. 'Plenty more where that came from, if you know what I mean.' He winked, his eye-patch making him look briefly blind.

    'And perhaps I should talk to you,' said Jariah, throwing a dirty look at Cade and following him.

    This left Hosk and Cade behind, and at a gesture Hosk locked the room shut, with Blue in the cockpit. 'Cade... Skywalker?'

    He eyed the deathstick. 'Is it really you?'

    Chukles38
    ---
    IC: Jaden
    Unknown Regions, 146 ABY

    Danny was slipping, and slipping badly. Jaden could feel it. There was a little bit of levity between him and Lenea, and Danny smiled, a crease upon his face that was more crinkle than grin. 'We have a way with life, don't we?'

    Danny would have laughed, but Jaden suspected it would have hurt too much, and it would have killed him. Danny nonetheless pushed himself to smile fully, and reached his hand for hers, squeezing it. Jaden felt him exert himself in the Force so the hand was about normal, and he could see the warmth flow into it - it would be the grip of an alive and well brother, not the sickly grasping of a dying man.

    It took a lot out of him, Jaden could see it, could feel it. Lenea would be at the heart of that maelstrom, but Jaden did not help her; he could ease her pain, could not afford to, and, at the same time, it was demeaning for him to even try.

    'Love you, sis.'

    And, a very short moment later, a moment that only a few words could be placed within, he was gone.

    Skywalker_T-65
    ---
    IC: Chosen One
    Coruscant, 600 ABY

    Skywalker was good. Incredibly good. It had been a small miracle that the Inquisitors had captured her, and not without help. The Chosen One knew he was going to die here.

    As if in slow motion, he watched as Skywalker leapt up to the ceiling, deftly avoiding his bolts; she hung there, as if gravity did not define her; he adjusted his aim, already redirecting his Force attention elsewhere, the jagged stream engulfing points up the fat wall, setting priceless tapestries and artefact displays alight, reaching her in time for her to launch towards him, landing behind him.

    The One knew the blow would come low, knew he had to block with his staff, which rose as bidden to his hand, he swung around, his left hand holding it up high to the staff would block low, his right hand coming around similarly high, as he felt that he had indeed killed himself; saw it, all but, and so he threw himself into thrusting his right hand forward as her fingers caught his neck; he felt her malice before her touch; and then his very fingertip, in the midst of her commitment to his death, touched her forehead, not with the desire to kill, no, but illuminate.

    The neck of the Chosen One snapped as his final will was bestowed.

    He bequeathed upon Lora Skywalker the power of Sight. It would feel like a hammer between her eyes, a blow which would propel her head back like a blaster bolt to the face would, and she might even sail back, slam into the door that he had been backing towards, as the far door which even now was being swung open by the single High Inquisitor that had appeared, lightsaber in hand.

    Had the One been alive, he would have been affronted that only one High Inquisitor of the seven remaining had responded to his summons. But the first words of the Nautolan explained why, 'My lord, Coruscant is under attack! The Sith are here, now that out rapid reaction force has - my lord?'

    The man stopped his sentence as the One collapsed like the bag of bones and meat he now was. Lora, for her part, would be wracked with a vision, a vision of a planet, green, a moon, with perspective, above a gas giant, with a debris field of metal gathered in one place. In the centre of the field an orb of light occurred, an anomaly, reaching out and then funnelling into a wormhole in a flash - another scene fluttered past, of the white re-emerging on a planet of desert and dust, consuming, encompassing, expanding, until the vision crashed with the white, and within it, within it, there was a golden throne with a man of darkness with mismatched eyes astride it, black robes beside them, one, with a grin of red on white, a slender woman beside, another a Chiss, with eyes of red, a Lethan Twi'lek, a trio of adults, two men and one woman, all with a family resemblance to them, an old man with a white moustache poking from either side of his hood as his dipped his chin, and more people besides, the vision homing unerringly onto one, with features which became horrifyingly familiar as Lora reached into the shadows of cloth...

    ... For they were her own.

    Snap-hisssss

    Her musings would end with the sound of an emerald blade appearing in the hand of the Nautolan, as he fumbled with his comlink. 'Tell the One's ship to take off, now, it is the only way out of the tower -'

    And then the far door was finally allowed for more than half a dozen Inquisitors to appear also, several steps behind the lunging High Inquisitor.

    DarkLordoftheFins
     
  19. Ramza

    Ramza Administrator Emeritus star 9 VIP - Former Mod/RSA

    Registered:
    Jul 13, 2008
    Kyle Katarn
    The Moldy Crow, Space Near Nal Hutta, 5 ABY

    Well, that was... different. Kyle was certain he had been nowhere near the Battle of Endor, but the memory had seemed so vivid that he was almost beginning to doubt that very basic piece of information. Some kind of vision, maybe? Mental blocks? This didn't add-

    A warning light flashed on. "Ah hell," Kyle swore. Tractor beam. Okay, don't panic. Maybe they were attempting to take him captive? Stranger things had oh, never mind, the guns were moving into targeting position. Sithspit.

    Think fast, Kyle, you've got seconds to live. Craft that size wouldn't have unlimited resources to devote to targeting the tractor beam and the guns and firing the guns and they'd probably not be aware of the fact that the Crow wasn't weighed down by all that much freight. Meaning the thrusters could provide much more kick than they were expecting it to have.

    Well, it was about the only option left on the table. He cut power to his lasers and shields, and punched it with as much juice as the ship could muster.

    TAG: Sinrebirth
     
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  20. greyjedi125

    greyjedi125 Chosen One star 6

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

    They were not dead.

    If that was a good thing, that was hard to tell. It mostly depended on your point of view. Dying was easy. Living was a challenge all its own.

    After they had rolled out of harms way, Stark felt a great deal of relief at being able to this one thing right at least, especially after the Force had betrayed him and abandoned him in his time of need. However, when he locked eyes with the woman who meant more to him than his own existence, he experienced a level of betrayal previously unbeknownst to him.

    “Um, Hi?” The blonde woman said, tentatively.

    It was painfully clear that she was not Juno as he’d believed. His own mind or the Force for that matter, had played a trick on him, making him see and feel things that he could hardly control.

    Stark’s whole face quivered as he tried to find a fragment of reality to ground himself in. A dark and sinister surge was about to wash over him, when the sound of screeching TIE fighters caught his attention.

    They were still in harm’s way.

    “We need to go, Starkiller.” The woman said with familiarity.

    “Wh…..wh….”

    How did she know that name? The name he hated. The usurper. The identity-thief. Stark had never seen this woman before, nor did he recognize her, not even in Starkiller’s memories. Yes, he had been mistaken, thinking she was Juno, but how did she know of him?

    Stark got up just as the woman did and grunted due to his wounds. With a sharp inhale, he sucked in his troubles and regarded her suspiciously.

    “Lead the way…” he said, crouching now as there were still white-shells performing their sworn duties to the empire. Decimating anything and anyone that had not sold its soul to the Imperial cause.

    Shots were still being fired, and with a glance, Stark saw the dark haired woman laying down some suppressing fire. It dawned on him that these two were likely military trained, judging from their combat readiness. He didn’t see Vima, but he knew he had a connection with her and he hadn’t felt her die, which meant the old crone was somewhere unseen, but still alive.

    “…I’ll follow.”

    Stark glanced about quickly at their surroundings. Should there be an immediately available blaster weapon, he’d avail himself of it and make himself useful, otherwise he planned to set himself in a defensive capacity, deflecting what he could with his ‘jedi’ weapon.

    He was finally calming down again and had many questions. The only way they could be answered was if they remained alive.


    Tag: Sinrebirth
     
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  21. Mitth_Fisto

    Mitth_Fisto Chosen One star 6

    Registered:
    Sep 29, 2005
    IC: Thuwistan Zawahul
    Rodia, 100ABY

    As the one that marked himself Yammka approached the air seemed to tremble with the very vibrations of the man. The Yuuzhan-Vong moved, the Jedi moved and if not for the deactivating of the lightsaber Zawahul fully had expected pitched combat to begin at that very moment. Instead the moment seemed to yawn before them all. A stalemate of simple wills and aura's.

    It was most confusing, was this the god of War or the god of reactions? There was no motion to be the first to strike, there was no move to be the first to speak. Confusing. Most confusing. The words of his children serving him, and not the other way around and then lumping Zawahul into and with them as one was more so. Was not he one to be dealt with a moment ago, and a challenge just given? Too many leaves were left to flutter on the breeze of possibilities.

    So silence was given rain upon his own continence of comment, and the Jedi, Yammka, and Yuuzhan Vong spoke their own thoughts. The Jedi spoke of power. His ship arrived and added unto that. Yammka crowed once more as before. Sad wasn't he? If Yun, it was one that Zawahul began to pity. So much was heaped upon reaction, so much on retribution. Where was the heart of a Warrior? Where was the honor of seeking one's own path for their roots to grow, to break new soil? Was so much lost in rebirth, or was the focus so fixed as an unthinking vine to seek the sun?

    The Jedi tried to correct it for his merit, the children spoke well of not fighting for misunderstandings. And Zawahul beamed with leaves wide open. His two seasons had not been spent in vain, he had nurtured the wilted branches of honor within these so that such was plain to their own eyes. They were growing and may not truly need him anymore.

    Yammka struck with rage and breath so fiery that the flames though not physical yet parted the ashes of the child to the four winds, and heaved the earth to trouble even the mightiest tree in the Jungle to the deepest root. Yet he rode the heaving earth of Rodia, and the Jedi not to two breaths away did the same. Yammka took a thud bug upon his mid and seemed to care little. A feat to the credit of his claim all.

    The ship above fired with flashes bright and soon Yammka was flung or fled into the Jungle not unlike his children he had flung not moments ago. "Perhaps it is too soon to learn." Zawahul whispered to himself as he watched the Jungle to begin to roil and die about where the Yammka landed.

    Then it was Zawahul's turn to fly as the Jedi threw him to his waiting ships open side. With words of leaving as the Jedi performed a staying action. He did not seem to understand that this was still a test Zawahul had to see to the end, but if the full weight was given as he felt he would see, then he would honor the man's request. It would be the least he could do.

    The ship spoke and Zawahul followed what it said as best able. The seats were not exactly meant nor built for one as he. Still, with a few odd curlings of his leaves he was able to reasonably situated himself to be planted and secured.

    Then the well of fire was laid down upon Yammka, and he emerged unscathed through the fire. Another mark to his credit. Then the Jedi advanced and the air trembled with the exchanges long before their breaths touched beyond the echoes they exchanged. The meeting was brief and the exchange telling with ferocity, with power, and with abilities.

    His seeds rattled even as the words echoed within with breath from Yammka as the ship shared in the vibrations. "Only these." he spoke openly. "You are Yun. Yet you treat your children poorly. Of Yammka you may yet be, yet either way, Yammka or no, you are Yun. I serve the breaths of Yun. So I shall serve you. Next we meet. Until then I shall share the breath, the Tyia." With that he let the meeting end if Yammka so chose to let him leave.

    TAG: Sinrebirth
     
  22. Chukles38

    Chukles38 Jedi Master star 5

    Registered:
    Jun 10, 2005
    IC: Lola
    En route to the Good Doc’s Lab and stuff

    As Lolarus took his saber, holding it for a brief moment in a glorious and wonderful manner, cherishing it as an old friend... then again, Lola might just be romanticising things again. Apparently she did that often. She always seemed to think that. At any rate, as Lolarus took his saber, Lola shot a sour look over her shoulder at Big Blue. The look was intended to state that she couldn’t be expected to know these things, and even if she did why would she answer him? Besides that, he should just come with them anyways, and be quiet, because honestly she hadn’t been paying enough attention to know where those sorts of things could be and it’s not like she had Quillan hovering around to ask about these things. Of course, this look might not be able to be interpreted by the Chiss quite as she intended it, but, hey, that was his problem.

    “Well, come on then you lot. We’ve gots ta be movin’, ya know? Deadlines ta meet.” With that she skipped out past the others, stopping herself a few paces away. She stood there a moment as she reprimanded herself. Dignified, slow. Gotta make a good impression. With effort she walked in a measured, mature sort of manner. That lasted only a few seconds as she let out a giddy giggle and began skipping again. She never understood how people could walk around everywhere. Quillan seemed content enough with it, which had confused Lola to no end.

    The girl paused only once to ensure that the two men were following. She figured they would, since neither of them had much idea of the layout of the place if Lola understood correctly. She was a tad distracted though, so she couldn’t recall if she saw them behind her or not. There were ideas in relation to Lolarus, of course--few appropriate for such a medium as this to fully explore--but also of the destruction that had already been caused. She found it quite… well, exploring those thoughts were moving a touch close to that previously mentioned line. Anyways, the door to the high security wing was still open, the window still blown in, and the Administrator’s head still rest against the wall where Lola had negligently tossed it when she was through with it.

    As she moved through the facility towards Doctor Herdstrom’s office, she noted that the halls were quiet, save the occasional boom of an explosion or the subtle sound of stamping feet in the distance. Before long they stood before the office door, which was open. Lola didn’t think it should be open. It might’ve even been locked. She also fancied she heard some singing, or some humming, but she usually had a tune going on in her head, so maybe it was just that. Still, things had to be taken seriously. It was a major point in the plan that they get into the office. Lola reached for her pistol, only to remember it had blown out. She pouted about that some, but she had to be brave. A resolute little expression, pursed lips and determined brows, crossed her features as he pulled her hands into a gun, her thumbs up and index fingers extended. Lola jumped into the doorway, moving her gun about the office and shouting, “Bang, bang!”

    First to hit her was the smell. We’ll return to that in a moment, for if we reveal what it was, then the suspense of whom she saw would be potentially ruined. And so she next noticed that there was some liquid everywhere in the place. Nothing seemed to have been disturbed otherwise. Of course, there was the person standing off to one side, but first we’ll touch on the note tripod-ed on the desk that had, in a professional no-nonsense sort of hand, the word Lola penned across it. That was of particular interest to Lola, for obvious reasons, despite that it was wet with something.

    The office did reek, however, and that was in part due to the ministrations of the beautiful lethan Mirai who was, at this moment, engaged in dipping her fingers into what must be a propellant of some sort, given the smell, and smearing over… everything. At the sight of her Lola squealed and bounced on her feet, her own headtails flying over her head and flailing wildly about. Unable to contain herself, a rather common occurrence for her you might notice, she dashed forward and threw her arms around the woman. Lola was not a large woman herself, though neither was Mirai. She had thrown herself, however, with such force that she knocked the twi’lek to the ground, spilling the contents of the container on the floor. If Mirai said anything, Lola didn’t hear it over her initial squeals of joy. She didn’t even care that her brown bangs were poking out from under her hood now. She had wanted to meet Mirai face to face for some time. She was overjoyed that now she could.

    Perhaps she should explain, but that didn’t occur to her. She wanted to talk, to gush about Lolarus or some such. She’d never had a girlfriend, or a sister, and she had always felt that Mirai would be a perfect one. Still, more important matters. “One sec, k?” She jumped up and snatched the note off the desk.

    Lola,

    Bottom drawer of my desk.

    ~Q

    She was confused. She didn’t remember seeing anything put there, nor remember when this note got placed. Oh well, particulars were never her strong suit. She opened the appropriate drawer and found a large box nearly the size of the drawer itself. With some effort she withdrew it, having to pull the drawer out in the process. Perhaps she could have removed the box without that, for certainly She had gotten it in there without the removal being necessary, but Lola was impatient.

    It was a fine, wooden bow and had seemed to have missed Mirai’s ministrations thus far. She lifted off the lid to reveal another note, set atop some fair crimson velvet.

    Lola,

    You lot might need these. Stick to the plan.

    ~Q

    Anxious she lifted the sheet of velvet to reveal a lightsaber and a small card that simply stated Kandor. She drew the card out and flipped it over, though the other side was blank. “Bo-ring,” she intoned, tossing the card negligently into a pool of accelerant. What else was in there, though? The note had explicitly said these, and She was always very particular with her word choice. Lola grabbed the saber, one she didn’t quite care for, and tossed it to Big Blue as he walked in. She yanked at the lower layer of felt and sure enough it too pulled up to reveal a small blowtorch, sized as a pistol with yet another card that said Umbrella stand. The cards were getting ridiculous. Did She really think that Lola couldn’t remember all this? Sure, she didn’t, but that was a small point, right?

    The blowtorch she tossed to Mirai. “This must be yours, sweets,” she muttered as she reached to the umbrella stand set next to Quillan’s desk. She always thought it an odd placement for it, especially since Quill-ey never used umbrellas. She fished around for a moment before pulling out a vibroblade. She didn’t know whose it was, but since Kandor’s was accounted for, and she couldn’t recall seeing Lolarus use a vibroblade, it must have been Mirai’s. She plunged it into the floor on the other side of the desk, though of course it didn’t do as she planned--given the floor was metal--and instead the blade fell to the ground. Lola gave it no thought as she turned her attention back to the box. She would never leave her saber behind. With a final yank and flourish she pulled the long strand of felt from the box and tossed it behind her. There in the bottom sat a saber staff, eloquent and refined, so different from Lola’s which was… well, it was oddly colored and had the head of a clown for an emitter. She loved it, though She couldn’t stand it. This sort of fancy things was just Her style though. She drew it, almost reverent, and looked at it for a moment. She’d seen it before, of course, but it had been a while. Almost reverently--more from fear than respect--she clipped it to her belt in its accustomed spot opposite hers. That all settled, she turned her attention to the room about her. She hadn’t been paying any attention, so if they said anything, she had missed it. “Time to have some fun, ya know,” she stated with a lopsided grin.

    TAG: Thrawn1786 , Shira A'dola , The Great No One , Sinrebirth
     
  23. DarkLordoftheFins

    DarkLordoftheFins Jedi Grand Master star 5

    Registered:
    Apr 2, 2007
    Lora Skywalker
    Coruscant, Throne Room

    She gasped out, as the vision faded.

    And only now her brain registered the simple truth, that she had succeeded. The Chosen One had died. The thought of freeing the Jedi Order from his weak leadership gave her comfort, but she would have expected regret. Instead she felt only . . . satisfaction. What greater proof was there she was the Chosen One than killing her only rival?

    The snap-hiss of the Inquisitor and the voices brought her back into reality. Coruscant under attack, ships send away. With a smile she pushed herself up, but when she looked up her face showed the utmost seriousness. The Inquisitor followed his instincts, but the slowness with which they had responded told her something about their state of mind.

    Doubts. Doubts were an usurpers ally.

    “Of course the Sith are here. He . . . he . . . “ Lora made her voice tremble, as if in shock. “He betrayed us!” Still stumbling she deactivated her lightsaber. Killing all of them was entirely possible. But she wanted more than that. She wanted the Jedi Order, her Jedi Order to follow her. “The Jedi must never know. His visions . . . I think they drove him insane. I think they . . . he . . . wanted to kill me!”

    Stepping towards the High Inquisitor, she probed the man with her eyes, then looked to the other Inquisitors. If he could not be swayed, maybe the could . . . once he was dead.

    She had to move fast. The vision. The secret weaponed she heard them talk about . . . something was happening and she had to take care of it.

    Tag: Sinrebirth
     
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  24. The Great No One

    The Great No One Jedi Grand Master star 8

    Registered:
    Jun 4, 2005
    IC: Jacen Solo/ Kavan Surface/ Hapes Cluster

    While kneeling next to Mara, Ship did something that caught Jacen by surprised. It reached out to him and began draining him. At first Jacen wondered if it were some kind of attack to make him pliable for Lumiya, but when he didn’t weaken all that was left was curiosity. Instead of splitting his focus, Jacen continued his administrations towards Mara, knowing Ship would tell him what was going on when it was ready. That was one thing that had always bothered him about it, that a construct should be so autonomous at times smacked of actual life, a perversion that only the ancient Sith would have been capable of. Even to him it had been unnerving, and ultimately useless, now Ship was something he would have destroyed had he been able. That it harbored Lumiya was hardly the only reason he felt that way.

    After several minutes had passed, and Mara was doing somewhat better, Ship descended near him. He could sense Lumiya still on board, only she was distinctly unconscious. Had a falling out with your little minion did you? Given that he still wanted to kill the pseudo-woman, that was a somewhat pleasant surprise. What Ship thought to him was less than pleasant, as it was now saying he was it’s master. And apparently it knew more about the threat that was coming, as it was talking about preservation of both the Sith order and the galaxy itself. Only partly were their interests aligned with that, as Jacen was no longer entirely certain that the Sith were the right path. Oh, they had many useful traits, but the typical bloodthirsty nature, the backstabbing, the… politics. As far as Jacen was concerned, politics were something that needed to be done away with completely.

    Standing up from Mara, Jacen looked Ship square in the face. It’s threat of killing him was not something he was up to dealing with at the moment. What disturbed him was that he wasn’t entirely certain how serious it was about that statement. “Fine. I’ll work with you for now, but you are nothing but a tool.” Flicking a hand towards Mara, he levitated her off the ground before continuing. “Now let me in. There’s someone who needs to die.” He began walking determinedly towards Ship, and after a moment it opened, allowing him inside with the still unconscious Lumiya.

    A flash of hatred shot through him as Jacen’s eyes lit upon her. No more backstabbing from you. No more lies. With that he drew his saber, and moved with obvious purpose towards the prone woman. Raising his saber to behead her, he paused, savoring the moment, waiting to see exactly how willing Ship was to let him be in control. Even should it try to stop him, Lumiya was dead.


    TAG: Sinrebirth
     
  25. Random Comments

    Random Comments Jedi Grand Master star 5

    Registered:
    Sep 25, 2012
    IC: Joruus C'Baoth
    Near Bpfassh, Chimaera, 9 ABY

    Some days, the universe had a terrible sense of humour. By rights, it should have no such sense, being bent to the will of the Master of the Force. Yet, though ultimately useless, resistance remained. This day was shaping up to be one of those days.
    'Grand Admiral Thrawn's' failure to provide his Jedi servants, and his insistence on treating him like an idiot or a child. Being surrounded by rebellious, incompetent servants. The voices, prattling on in his mind, with no sense of respect or obsequence, and Pellaeon, prattling on outside it, equally lacking . The Ysalimiri pockets, clouding his judgement and control. The complete failure of his Empire to demonstrate the proper understanding of his power, or of the principles of power itself. His own attempts to recruit his Jedi servants, or find suitable alternatives, continually postponed of foiled. Constant demands on his time and powers, lesser mortals with all their problems, keeping him from completing his objectives. And when finally events moved such that he might complete all in one fell swoop, this ridiculousness began.
    The voices urgently shouting, demanding his attention, the stormtroopers apprehending Pellaeon and preventing him from completing his orders (a stun bolt was far too good a fate for him), and then to find that the shuttle itself had secretly contained the Spaarti cylinder he had required, though not the sample necessary for its operation. And that the shuttle itself would be necessary to reach the voices' coordinates.
    "Dark Jedi, surrender."
    And then for the stormtroopers to dare to turn upon him, also. It. Simply. Would. Not. Stand.
    He would make the Stormtroopers pay. He would take the shuttle to the Unknown Regions, and he would have his Jedi servants. Further resistance would not be tolerated.
    He gathered the Force within him, and released his rage upon the four elite troopers. The rifle muzzles crumpled and bent, then exploded outward in a hail of debris. The troopers armor protected them from most of the flying wreckage, but a metal splinter broke through one of the helmets' visors, ruining an eye. C'baoth felt the trooper's pain in the Force, but paid it no mind. He unleashed a storm of lightning upon another trooper, before they had the chance to regain their bearings or approach him, frying the man inside his white-hot shell, and imploded the armor of a third, driving the plastoid shards through his heart and lungs. He Force-pushed the blinded trooper against the far wall, grinning as he slumped into unconsciousness, and lifted the final trooper into the air, snapping his bones into a thousand fragments.
    The hangar was quiet for a moment, the only sound the heavy breathing of C'Baoth as he savored his rage.
    The surviving, blinded trooper stirred weakly, and C'Baoth swept over to him, removing his helmet and staring into his pitiful face. "You will return to "Grand Admiral Thrawn'"- (he spat the name out)- "and you will show him what becomes of those who betray me. I shall be taking direct control over my Empire, and all dissidents may expect to be crushed beneath my heel as you and your squad have been. Captain Pellaeon will remain with me.I will not tolerate further interference of this sort. To insure the message is understood, you will use your vibroblade and swing to kill the Grand Admiral." There was little chance that the trooper would succeed, given his condition, but it would emphasize C'Baoth's seriousness in this matter. "Go. And do believe you may be in need of a bacta treatment, should you survive."
    He strode over to the body of Pellaeon as the trooper struggled towards the turbolift, Force-lifted him into the shuttle and deposited him carelessly on the bunk.
    He quickly performed the pre-flight instruments checks, powered up the shuttle, the Overlord, and launched from the flagship of his new Empire, to the coordinates in the Unknown Regions, and his soon-to-be Jedi underlings

    Tag: Sinrebirth
    OOC: This is revenge for throwing that moon, isn't it?
    Also, It's spelled C'Baoth, not C'boath. *prepares to hide*
     
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