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Star Wars THE GALAXY AT WAR PART IV: PRISONER OF CORUSCANT

Discussion in 'Role Playing Forum' started by pashatemur, Nov 5, 2010.

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  1. pashatemur Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Jun 21, 2004
    star 4
    Welcome to THE GALAXY AT WAR PART IV: Prisoner of Coruscant

    Game Manager GM: Pashatemur


    ONCE UPON A TIME, IN A GALAXY FAR, FAR AWAY?

    After 12 years of intermittent yet intense war, the Galaxy is now finally at peace ? a tentative peace. General Grievous finally destroyed on Malachor V, the Confederacy in disarray, their leader, the insane Quaemena Ayesha fled with the one who calls himself Yuuzhan, and their Council routed, the Empire can now redirect its might and resources.

    Yet, in the constant feeding of the war machine that was necessary in defeating the CIS, great injustices have been committed and many coffers depleted. With the late Emperor Palpatine's drive to impose his Imperial will throughout the ever increasing territories, many have been thrust into poverty and ruin. Now it falls to Palpatine's former Executor and successor, the Re of Ursa and the former Jedi and Sith, Lord Vader, to bring the order and strength he knows will be required to meet the strange and fierce new enemy, if he can hold the seat of command?


    [image=[url]http://1.bp.blogspot.com/_lxYaMR9LB...AAAEQ/wh3pFXQNVbs/s1600/CoruscantColour1.jpg][/url]


    In the black of space, Coruscant is gleaming orb hanging amidst a silver studded sphere of traffic viewed from beyond the warm and subdued cabin lights of transport. Overhead, a TIE fighter flies past, the signature screech of it?s twin ion engines silent until the fighter breaks the planet?s atmosphere and inside the dark cockpit dotted with indicator lights, the suited pilot cranks his audio to listen to the pulsing strains of "Back in the GIR."


    *( Back in the USSR, Beatles ?The White Album? - Lennon/McCartney 1968 )




    Oh, flew in from Oversector outer region
    didn't get to sleep last night
    all the way the airsick bag was on my knee
    man I had a dreadful flight

    I'm back in the G I R
    You don't know how lucky you are boy!
    Back in the G I R

    Tour of duty took so long forgot how to play
    Gee, it?s good to be back home
    Leave the holo till tomorrow's just a "pod-race"
    Baby, disconnect the "com"...


    The volume of the music decreases as the fighter is haled by Planetary defense and given entry vectors. “Copy, Sir, com’on?”

    “...this is Coruscant Orbi’al PlanDef Golan II space defence platform...Lock-down will be lifted in 30 seconds, Threat Levels lowered to orange. Come in with weapons cold and you are cleared to land Imperial Center .....”

    In the transport's forward cabin, the pilot receives similar instructions. The transparasteele port soon frames an increasingly frenetic view of freighters, warships, pleasure cruisers, transports and fighters queuing or maneuvering to approach, depart or weigh anchor, the congestion, unusual due to the missile attack upon the Imperial Senate building 16 hours earlier.

    Conversations range subdued but excited with speculations concerning a retributive strike by CIS remnants, or perhaps the Union was agitating for the return of their Duchess now under Imperial custody and being transported to Coruscant, or was it the work of the terrorists rebels?

    “Somebody’s going to lose more than rank over this,” stated a trooper sitting close by the viewport.

    “Question is, how’d the rogue manage to get through security scans with the kind of ship that could launch warheads, let alone get off planet?!” There were concurring grunts from those seated around the trooper that made the query.

    The cabin lights flickered, signaling an announcement.

    “Eh, Emperor’s still standing! Anyone here thinking it’s the Moff’s....” posited another trooper nearby before someone hissed and an officer leaned in.

    “Care to repeat that accusation, trooper? Or were you just mouthing off in all the excitement?” asked the officer in a low and warning voice.

    “Uh.... Uh...yes sir, Major, sir. Just excited, sir,” replied the trooper automatically standing to attention.

    “Yes, here, here, long may he live! It’ll take more than a couple of missiles to take our Emperor, eh boys?!”

    A hearty rejoinder smoothed the moment before the cabin’s crackle.

    The pilot's voice comes through the speakers in a buoyant tone projecting in a metallic buzz over the victors’ conversations.

    “The threat level has been dropped. We are now approaching atmosphere, secure all baggage and strap in. We hope you’ve enjoyed your brief flight with us today. Your Empire thanks you Officers and troopers of His Imperial Majesty’s Admiralty! Welcome to Coruscant!”


    The cabin erupted in cheers and congratulations! The music returned over the communications system speaker and the volume rose...


    You're back in the G I R
    You don't know how lucky you are boy!
    Back in the G I R


    Eridea girls really knock me out
    they leave those Teta's behind
    And Naboo girls make me sing and shout
    That Corellia's always on my my my my my my my my my mind

    You're back in the G I R
    You don't know how lucky you are boy!
    Back in the G I R

    Eridea girls really knock me out
    they leave those Teta's behind
    And Naboo girls make me sing and shout
    That Corellia's always on my my my my my my my my my mind

    Show me round your snow peaked mountains
    In Ursa or Alderaan
    Take me to your Daddy's farm
    Let me hear your mandoviol ringing out
    Come and keep your comrade warm

    I'm back in the G I R
    You don't know how lucky you are boy!
    Back in the G I, back in the G I, back in the G I R!*


    Welcome everyone! Consult GOALS, PROCEDURES and CONDUCT forGAMING INSTRUCTIONS & HOW TO ENTER in the LIBRARY THREAD in ROLE PLAYING RESOURCES. You’ll also find lists of CHARACTERS, the CHARACTER SHEET TEMPLATES, the GAW IV MAP and ANNOUNCEMENTS. Use the link below to reach the library.

    RETURNING WRITERS: Please incorporate brief synopses and recapitulations into your post. They needn’t be made all at once and if you prefer, they may be posted in the Library thread. Alert and provide them in a PM to the GM if you wish to post them there instead of in game.

    LIBRARY THREAD

    The GAME THREAD is for IN CHARACTER posting. Keep OUT OF CHARACTER COMMENTS to a minimum. Use PRIVATE MESSAGE to communicate with your co-writers and GAME MANAGER/MASTER(s), play with gusto and happy writing to all!


    Art contributed by C_O
  2. Sith-I-5 Jedi Grand Master

    Member Since:
    Aug 14, 2002
    star 6
    IC: Captain Ewlla Iillor, cabin aboard the HIMS Huntress
    L:eek:cation: Orbit over Imperial Centre, with the rest of the Reserve Fleet


    Iillor yawned as she settled on the couch in her cabin, having woken up, washed and dressed for the day.

    Yesterday, her ship and crew had participated in the major engagement at Mygeeto, intended to mop up the last of the Confederation of Independent Systems.

    Somehow, they had gotten through it intact, and with the rest of the Reserve Fleet, they had returned to Imperial Centre, leaving the clean up to Grand Admiral Carthaginian?s forces.

    The door warbled, someone requesting entry.

    Ewlla glanced over and ran her hands down the olive-green panels on her thigh-length uniform dress, making sure that it did not look like she had slept in it.

    [image=http://i1004.photobucket.com/albums/af162/yavin1pics/GAW%20IV/captiillor10.jpg]

    She hadn?t, but the one she had slept in, was still in the cabin with her, looking forlorn on the floor at the head of her bunk.

    The doorbell went again as she looked for somewhere to put yesterday?s outfit, and ended up stuffing it down the back of the couch, before calling for whoever it was, to enter.

    An unfamiliar woman in a grey Navy one-piece, tucked into polished black boots, came in, bearing a tray, which in turn had a steaming mug of caffeine and a selection of datapads.

    ?Good morning, Captain!? The rating said brightly, while Captain Iillor looked pleasantly up at her.

    ?Morning. How are things going, with the crew?? She enquired.

    ?Fine, Captain. Repairs have started, and we have managed to get hospital places on the surface, despite all the casualties at the Senate.?

    The tray had been settled on the low glase-topped coffeine table before Iillor, and she had started dipping in sweetener and whitener, the dipped in the spoonener?, er, the spoon.
    She looked up sharply. ?Why? What happened at the Senate??

    The rating looked uncomfortable. ?Someone put a missile through it.?

    Ewlla?s eyes widened at the news. ?WHAT?! Why wasn?t I notified??

    ?You were dead on your feet, Captain. I didn?t like to disturb you.?

    The captain of the Huntress Interdictor-class Heavy Cruiser could not believe what she was hearing. ?If an important structure on a planet that we are orbiting gets attacked, I want to be told immediately.?

    ?The last time I tried to wake you after a battle, you went absolutely spare!?

    Ewlla frowned, reddening just a shade. ?Are you sure? Doesn?t sound like me.?

    ?Remember you had a different table in here when you started, Ma?am? Remember what happened to the other?? The rating?s voice trailed off as she focussed on Iillor, perhaps for the first time since arriving. Then her gaze rose to look round the cabin, and then she stepped back a pace to glance into the corridor.

    ?Waaiitt a second;? she advised, looking down at Iillor with a strange look in her eyes, ?this isn?t the Endless!?

    The Endless? it was a moment before the Victory-II Star Destroyer that the rating must be referring to, came to mind.

    ?And I?m not Captain Savanche.? She pointed out kindly.

    But that was the sort of battle that Mygeeto had been. They had picked up survivors from all sorts of ships, and had medical staff from many others seconded to her command, for Huntress to take the role of Medical Frigate.

    This crewperson had woken up on an unfamiliar ship, and just got on with her job.
    To Ewlla, this showed the resilience of the typical Imperial serviceman.

    Tag: no-one

    OOC: The Endless, and Captain Savanche, appeared in Galaxy at War III, played by DarthXan. Though I made up the reminisce.
  3. pashatemur Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Jun 21, 2004
    star 4
    OOC: Thanks to SithStarSlayer for his contributions to this post as Quinlan Vos.



    IC: Ledaren Quinlan Vos, Anakin, Emperor and Re, Dr. Molita
    LOCATION: Royal Apartments, Ursean Embassy, Embassy Dist., Imperial Center


    Palpatine is dead, killed on the battlefront at Kalee by the thing that called itself "Yun" and "Umbrus." The Re and now, Emperor Vader sped back to Coruscant to claim the throne, address the Senate and set in motion the process of securing his position finally succumbed to the injuries he incurred preventing the destructive creature from killing more than Kalee.

    Now he lies upon the stone of a darkened room in his Ursean Embassy, enduring a difficult healing process lead by his Ledaren and "brother", Quinlan Vos. Surprised by the return of his former Padawan, Ahsoka, he's had barely enough energy left to command his unwilling physician to assist Vos.


    ...Molita winced at the Re's hoarse cry. "Steady," the doctor murmured, his voice breaking and momentarily halting the ancient Kavalanic healing chant. Vos, the Ledaren's face was barely visible, but shone wet and gleaming in the shadows, though the room felt cold and Molita shivered as a gust swept the room through an open casement.

    The bones, flesh, muscles and nerves in the Kiffu?s hands ached and burned from holding their position; from channeling of the Force, using himself as a human conduit, yet it was not enough. Realizing that he was about to fail, Vos completely let go. With teethe bared, his lips curled up in a snarl and a wild look in his now amber- reddened eyes, Vos zeroed in on Vader's survival before he gave in to the power of his emotions to pump even harder, funneling every last bit of his strength into lightning.

    In Anakin's mind...

    What wave might wash one shore in gentle lapping whelmed another. This was the nature of all things, beauty and horror, feast or famine, light and dark, neither inherently good or inherently bad in their part and even in destruction came life, like a fire burns away the undergrowth of a conifer forest to prime and burst the seeds from obdurate embrace of their winged case, freeing the dormant neophyte though ancient in origin to growth - freeing cells from their mature stasis to rejuvenate, to be reformed as skin, or bone, or muscle, or brain, nerve?

    Cast from the great wheel was the dross and wash of spent stars, regressed matter and lightened atoms, black holes and clutter...nebulae blossomed, and opening against the harshness, blooming against the proving wind of time, time which was death's proxy and against remorse and pain-death's maidens, a singular flowering of the Force?

    Death was a natural part of the life cycle. Death and Life are twins. Yet, apart from the endless and cogent lessons of both experience and tutor, there was another lesson, a tacit one. Survive! And for reasons complex and buried, Vos would ensure, that Anakin survive. The cure might defeat that goal, but the malady certainly would. What he must do would certainly cause incredible pain, would kill others, but pain was a latent and primal incentive toward survival, and its summoning was the only way that Vos could save his friend.


    "...YOU are the pilot..." hummed Jabbitha - the seed partners joined in the realization of the presence of the beautiful living ship that had long ago been shaped and sacrificed, a deep part of him he had believed dead and now found revenant inside him. For the Force set in particular motion was never fixed, but alive and responsive, no matter how great the amplitude or swift the wave, it too was subject to all life's actions...death is transformed and transformation. Resistance yields to flexibility, fate to choice!...

    Molita chanted shakily, "Brilliant, resonant and deep is thy birth, oh sojourner..."

    ...Dark the womb, dense the cloud of dust and ether in which stars formed! Hydrogen, carbon oxides, helium and silicate, heated within the redundant "green-ware" shell, an armor now manifest in its last function splitting and cracking like shale and ice shed from the mountain and within, collapsing, falling inward to the serenity of the dark from which no light escapes, the stuff of galaxies ignited!

    The vast smoothness congealed, divided and transformed, individuated and segmented. It was terrible to behold! The all serene became a roiling sea of movement, of gathering and effervescence, a cacophony of sound clashing and exploding, opening the mouth to gasp and utter unknown incantations, the conscious thought evolved and awareness told him he had seen this birth many times. The mind thundered with the roar of more stars than could be counted.

    “My son...my son...” These words were not spoken, but felt as though his marrow vibrated with the ‘utterance...

    “Born! The chaff winnowed and the slip thrown from the potter’s wheel; refined and purified, the false metal burned away...”The Ursean Doctor’s chant trailed off.

    “ We... ‘re... born...”

    Around the Doctor, the room seemed to move, spinning as with the galaxy and Molita struggled against the disorientation, inexorably drawn toward the epicenter of the Force event. The walls bowing or his sight becoming convex, the doctor looked down to his patient in alarm. Lesions began to appear in curious marks on the Re’s naked body as the ‘dumb' tissue burned away. The scar over his right eye glistened with dark blood, a noticeable bleeding from his left ankle too. From the young Re’s open mouth, viscous scarlet bubbled. On closer inspection, it seemed every scar the Re had incurred was opening before the Doctor’s eyes. Molita wept for Ursa and lowered the rebreather. It was no longer of use. His shoulders slumped. What bloody price had they paid!

    Molita did not wish to envision the state of the Empire, the flight the Reina would need to take when news of the Re and new Emperor’s death was out, the chaos and mayhem as the Moff’s sued for control. The decisive victory at Kalee would end like this?!

    As if awakening, the knitted strands of code uncoiled. The touch of cold fire urged them and in furious foment, the blastemas grew, and “falling inward”, impelled, the cells hearkened to the shaping, skin to skin, bone to bone, thin and delicate, alveoli swelled with air...

    Molita watched in wide-eyed horror as the metal plate at the end of the Re’s arm strained and heaved; filaments and electrodes tearing away with a slipping, seething slurp and the metal plate shot across the room. The Re’s body leaped from the floor so filled with the Force lightning the Ledaren drove into the young Emperor, the magnet melting and expelled leaving the fizzing dark meaty hole below it, now bubbling with an inner heat.

    “STOP! STOP! YOU ARE KILLING HIM,” yelled Molita. Reaching out, he instinctively leaned across the Re and stricken by the brilliant arching plasma, Molita was thrown with a white/blue searing lance to the floor some 3 meters back and lay there steaming.

    ...The mind freed did not feel time. Anakin touched the nebulae, his hand sweeping stars. At the center there was no time... Buoyed in the flow, he breathed and was filled. He thought and it was so. Cells congealed. The hue of the Force was not light, it was not shadow...

    Quinlan knew that his end was fast approaching, for he was well beyond his limits. With one last grunt, he summoned what little reserve he had left and pumped one last torrent of the unnaturally-summoned current into Vader’s chest cavity. The room brightened with the purple-blue plasma as suddenly, the body reflected the force lightening and it traveled back along the still lingering lines of “aftersight” it left in the dark to strike Vos, the windows of the large room opening suddenly to alarms and giving vent to the white purple force manifestation that seemed to multiply and leap wildly and joined from without by a dramatic electrical display that lit the clouds for miles around the Ursean Embassy. Vos, unprepared, gasped as he tried to rise. Dark coils of hair steaming, his body loosed of its tension, he was snatched, flown up and suspended as if held motionless for a moment, back arched and arms spread wide.

    Then the air grew silent as only the rain splattered softly, the lancing plasma retracted and drawn in, vanishing, letting loose the unconscious Master to fall like a rag animal, crumpled, the alarms silenced, lying chest-down on the shiny cold floor, his face in repose as if he slept.
    Molita wasn’t certain as he pressed himself up from the marble only long enough to see the Ledaren fall hard to the stone beneath them and he thought he heard the Ledaren’s hands singe when they touched the cool floor.

    ***

    Everywhere, lightning rods sticking out like whiskers from around the tall towers of the Embassy and Senate districts collected the energy bolts that had riven the skies and guided them to internal transformers to dilute to a level the collectors could receive and convert for storage. Surges caused the lights to flicker in even the newest and well equipped towers.

    Colton hurried toward the Royal Apartments through the strobe’d corridor with a detail of black guards and USF Embassy police.

    Molita lay upon the floor and slowly closed his eyes to the white light that flooded his vision, and even as he lost consciousness, his closed eyes sought relief from the blinding aura which en-wrapped the Re.

    The only witnesses remaining could not compute the event revealed to their photo-receptors and they stood motionless, without comment or impetus to move. A flame shape, white, warm and liquid shimmered in reflected brilliance on two twin sets of dark orbs; the patient seemed to have immolated and the two medi-droids were fixed at the perimeter of the circle of leaping light.

    Yet, after lingering over both fallen forms to either of its sides, the figure rose, stood erect and walked, the form that of a human beneath molten flame which now evanesced, flame turning to swirling wisps of brilliantly colored clouds: purple, azure, fuchsia, orange and silver. The human grasped a billowing gold silk panel of draped curtain and pulled it down, wrapped it loosely about his hips, he trailed it behind him as he stepped out into the rain beyond the open casements. Eyes cast beyond the newly glowing Senate to the north east, ”The Prisoner of Coruscant” stood and rested his gaze upon the white spectre beyond the dark pinnacle of Lord Sidious’ folly, the wind whipping and blowing rain across the marble floor of the Ursean Chamber him.

    Cont'd


    TAG: Brother Vos, Ahsoka, Molita, Colton and Ursean Embassy, Alia, Sarcev Quest, surrounding residential and business towers
  4. pashatemur Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Jun 21, 2004
    star 4
    OOC: On behalf of SithStarSlayer, I'm posting Vos.


    IC: The Ledaren, Sheyf Quinlan Vos
    Location: Ursean Embassy, Coruscant






    What the universe beheld in that moment, Quinlan would never know.

    ***

    Swollen with the Force, cell walls strained to bursting, the Kiffu ached, determination contorting his face as shear will allowed him command to channel a vortex of purest plasma, streaking and arcing purple-blue into Vader's chest. Quin didn't know how long this last effort lasted. The Re was now filled to overflowing with the Force and now reflected the Force in the form of lightening, the air still scented with ozone, and the trace in purple-black still streaking toward Vader, now, became the path by which the lightening returned to strike first Molita and then the Ledaren.

    The casements of the room flew open, letting in gusts of rain, though Vos did not feel it. Alarms sounded wildly, but Quin did not hear them, nor did he see the sky erupting in a massive electrical display. Rising to prepare, too late, he gasped. Head tilted up, he was knocked up and back, his arms flying out and he grimaced as the lightening gripped him and held him.

    The sting of the Force bit hard and when the lancing fingers released him and retracted, Vos lay still, wisps of smoke curled skyward blue. The air grew silent as only the rain splattered softly, the lancing plasma retracted and drawing in, vanished, letting loose the unconscious Master and he fell like a rag animal, crumpled, the alarms silenced, lying chest-down on the shiny cold floor, his face in repose as if he slept.

    In the still, the alarms silent, a blue-white glow which reflected on the pale and polished stone seemed to float from the room leaving it in quiet dark. Fat drops of water splashed in erratic rhythm across the floor and upon the Ursean Doctor and the Ledaren, crystalline beads swept by the invading wind. Thin wisps of blue smoke rose in an over-sweet aroma from the hands of the Kiffu.

    Molita moaned where he lay sprawled upon the same polished floor half-way across the room.


    ***

    There was movement, the white hot light of life and death, of regeneration, like that of many suns filled his awareness! Even closing his eyes, Vos was blinded. There were thoughts, visions - memories pooling in the Kiffu?s conscious mind. He could not say which of these they were and Vos sensed more than saw movement as he pushed, palms flat against the smooth stone beneath him. Even the gritty sound of the crafting droid?s polishers imprinted in the stone did not break the flood of images and the words that scoured his mind. Even now that the physical connection between the two ?brothers of the order? had been broken, he could not tell which were his own and which, Vader?s.

    ***

    Not only was the rain incessant, it was stinging, sheeting now and the air, nearly liquid, so thick with humidity. Thick growth and rivers of mud that filled boots, a leech suckled inside just over the heel and there was no let up in the droid onslaught, though they too were succumbing in great number to the sludge? Keep pushing. You do not let this knock you down, you fall and you are left to the elements, abandoned?

    Now the heat of two suns glared and Vos put up his arm to relieve the sting. One was left to be picked over, one?s remains polished, fragile arches of white in the blinding white sun?

    DON?T LET GO?

    A telltale whine, high pitched and piercing warned of the blast shrieking toward him. Instantly, the murky view turned to ethereal clouds of hot steam. So hot! The cries of pain were muffled around him and the wretched face that peered out of the burst of blistering plasma, coalescing in the swirling steam, the big human that made everyone hurt when he put the hot hard ?shooter? to the skin, scowled at him?

    He rubbed at his arm where a hard long shape lay embedded in a purpling wound ? though it was not Vos? hand.

    The big human leered at him and shoved him down into the blistering Tatooine sand with his boot. ?Leave him! Puny, hairless, whelp! If it faints over “tagging”, no one worth anything will miss this puking bit o’ nothing!”

    Desperation permeated the air. “No... NO!” An anxious woman reached out as she was held back and made to move on. She called after him and he lifted himself and ran, though he had to thread through a forest of legs and arms, derided and even struck at as he leaped to clasp the woman’s hand. “You hold on tight... hold on... do you understand! Don’t let go.” He clung more to reassure her and make her stop crying, her desperation infectious.

    The face with tears was not Vos’ mother but the image invoked his own memories and those he did not want, those horrific images and feelings of both his parents succumbing to the drain of their assassins’ tendrils probing their noses and sucking away there life force, their memories and the very “spark of life” in excruciating languid savor.

    The sonorous tones of Master Tholme’s voice shattered this memory, "... in becoming a Knight, a Jedi is expected to face his greatest fears and vanquish them."

    Vos felt the pulse of his heart as he struggled to see the room upon whose cold floor he lay. The shimmering figure left it’s after-image in the Kiffu’s mind. He thought he saw it receding. He groaned into the stone beneath him.

    Always losing them. - love was one long farewell…

    He gave Kahleen’s stone to Celeste. Wasn’t one supposed to let go of attachments?!

    "... In becoming a Knight, a Jedi is expected to face his greatest fears and vanquish them."

    No, letting go was one thing, but one needed to remember- remember and adapt, survive and grow.

    ”I should be better... I know I am better than this...I know there are things about the Force that they aren't telling me…"

    Vos would have been frustrated if he was, at the moment, a discrete individual. The shifting “clouds” of memory were not the sum of the Kiffu’s tumultuous life, but his and the recent accretion, memories of another gathered into his mind, and as much as he strove to keep from integrating them, they managed to penetrate and take hold.

    Silence!!

    The voice in his head did not heed Vos’ will. A gravely warm voice spoke to spite him.

    ...The reality is that there is only the Force. It is above such petty concepts as positive and negative, black and white, good and evil."

    Vos’ lips moved as in his mind he hurled a choice Kiffu epithet, but the “old man” had been right in a way and as soon as Vos felt this, another voice spoke out of his past -

    "The Force is our power and or ally. The Force has always been with us. That is its nature. It surrounds us. And penetrates. It binds the universe together. Those who become sensitive to its presence can learn how to use it... for good or evil."

    “No...no....he he he he !” Vos thought he laughed. “I know what you’re about...”

    Yet, it had all proven quite clearly true. He could not deny it. The strength of the Force lay within ones own force of will.......draw on it... It’s what the holocron spoke.

    Bane thought he’d spoken some exclusive wisdom, but if that was true of the darkside... then it was true that the light could be drawn upon through exercise of the will...dangerous, yes, but it could be done. The trick was knowing when one’s will moved counter to the Force.

    "The ways of the Living Force are beyond our understanding... But fear not. You are in the hands of something much greater and much better than you can imagine."

    “Ah...” Vos murmured, “Qui gon...yes...I am not a part of the dark, I'm just deep within the shadows…"
    
His mind like that of his brother and following its journey, bloomed as a nebulae, expanding and lighting the dense and tangled possibilities that had lain silent and hidden.

    What he experienced would never be forgotten. His mortal body lay
there; for what seemed like eternity, with his face pressed against the cold stone. Yet, Quinlan’s sensing for the moment was beyond simple touch; his consciousness, though burdened, was without a vessel and was free to roam amongst the stars...

    And so he ascended. Through the invisible gates of time and space his mind's eye sped from one solar system to the next. Each passing galaxy offered its own soft harmonic chorus to the sound of a courtyard fountain that tinkled faintly in the background.

    …He liked the rain. He usually found that soothing, but this was bordering on the ridiculous. The rain was unrelenting.

    Drawn to his home system, he halted his movement and the chorus was soon drowned out by the cracking of lightning and the booming thunder of Kiffar's upper atmosphere. It didn't take long for him to realize that in spite of the connection to his people, there was nothing left for him there. A sense of sadness overwhelmed him, so Vos turned his face away and sought refuge in the pitch black of space once more.

    In a fraction of a second his thoughts raced from decade to decade; event to event and battlefront to battlefront, but some of the memories, again, were not his own...

    Lost in the sea of his co-joined memories, the imagery was at first a kaleidoscope of colors, while the sound was somewhat muffled and disjointed. As he continued to climb, the swirling vortex slowed considerably and then Quin found himself standing squarely on the hot sand’s of Tatooine. There was a blue blade in his mechanical hand and he was dealing death to all who would stand in his way...

    Almost as soon as it began, it was over and from there, Vos found himself on Ryloth. Standing on a balcony, he held an unfamiliar blue Twi’lek in an unbreakable Force Grip as he pumped a raw form of lightning into the humanoid. Before he could see the conclusion he was whisked away once more.

    This time he found himself on the rain soaked and mud-covered battlefields of Jabiim. There was pleading and threatening, heart heavy with the cold weight of violent loss, he wondered if and when this pain could end – a sense of the great unfairness of perverse life. It made one question for what one fought, so many in the cohort dead and how to describe the severing of a bond between learner and Master…

    Even the old man’s passing tore at the conscious mind though his end had been one devoutly sought…

    Vos was wracked suddenly with the memory of the insane presence on Kalee, feeling the drain of the Force scouring him like a torrent of hot sand and urgently he held onto Qel Droma’s words as if the repentant one had spoken them directly into the Kiffu’s own heart.

    Yes, deep in the dark and that hungry menace wanted all, light and dark, everything, the annihilation of the Force and so he struggled in his brother’s memory. Yet, when he thought he would give way and break apart under that torrent, the release came with a simple choice, a simple choice. Letting go, the torrent turned to the sound of rain, then that of a fountain...

    Vos could hear children laughing in the distance and his eyelids began to twitch.

    His body jerked in reaction to the changing memories while experiencing one particularly vivid recollection, his heightened sense of awareness propelled his mind forward until it passed the threshold to revert to the present. All at once, every nerve-fiber, muscle and bone in his body cried out... but all he could do was gasp. The tips of his fingers felt like living fire as he drew his palms in beside his chest to push himself up. Halfway towards sitting hunched upon his knees, Quinlan gasped again before groaning aloud.

    Beyond the pain, beyond the noise in his head, Quinlan knew...that his greatest strength had always resided in his will.

    Footsteps and voices.

    “Ledaren....Ledaren...see to Dr. Molita...Ledaren...”

    The voices seemed to echo.

    “Min herre Amiral , den Re är här på det förfärlig...on the terrace... Din Kejserlig Storslagenhet... er du skada eller sjuk , min herre?”

    “Ledaren...? He is opening his eyes. Vos blinked at the blur.
“Have the Ledaren taken to infirmary...”

    Vos tried to catch sight of Anakin but sensing the Re stood and was strong, he let himself be loaded onto a gurney mumbling a witticism no one seemed to appreciate after which realization he murmured woozily, another choice epithet.

    TAG: Brother Anakin, Colton, "Blue Eyes"(Ahsoka)
    Last edited by Corellian_Outrider, Jun 3, 2016
  5. pashatemur Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Jun 21, 2004
    star 4
    IC: Anakin
    LOCATION: Personal Quarters, Ursean Embassy, Coruscant



    Anticipation...

    His brow twitched under the sharp droplets? hydrogen and oxygen combined with toxic metal and acid? it was bitter, the taste!
    New flesh stung as he held his newly grown right hand aloft in the rain and he gingerly touched it with his left hand, though the gesture was hardly necessary to determining the "reality" of the regenerated limb. Sensory integration, modulation, perception, meaning, these functions and concepts allowed him that awareness.

    Someone waited...

    That's right! This was an existence subject to time. Matter and energy were subject to the degenerative effects of vis inertiae, of time. Anakin turned his hand around, vision slowly forming into focus.

    The lights beyond the waving shadow of the tree line at the edge of the Ursean Embassy cliff garden, were garish, brilliant to the point of nauseating and the prismatic effect of the raindrops drove the refracted light at his eyes like spears of red, orange, yellow, green, blue, indigo, and violet. Slipping hexagonal discs of light shimmered on the field of vision too as the harsh rain weighted his eyelashes and spilled over the planes of his face while he squinted and turned from the glare.

    Until now, his conscious mind had filtered out the alarms and the normally seeming benign squeal and howl of the far off traffic lanes that he could see streaking in a scintillating grid stretching far off to the violet northern night sky. The den roared at him, but he stood more erect from his cowed position as the ringing subsided.

    This place is … Embassy....My Embassy, he reminded himself although the sense of possession, let alone the concept of Embassy seemed alien at the moment.

    Where or rather what he had recently been during his healing, was far removed from matters of power and fear, or managing competing interests, or regret and grief, or family, or love and loss, or passion, or intrigue and Masters, Kings, and Senators!

    Cold...

    The thick gold silk curtain with which he'd girded his hips now grew heavy and dark as the rain soaked folds clung to his legs.
    A muffled shout caught his attention, but he did not turn to watch as the room behind him came alive with activity.
    "There he is!"

    A signal emanating from the nano chip in his head and keyed to his nervous system his staff were alerted he was on bridge of one of his many ships or when he entered Imperial buildings. The same ?locators? were used in Ursean buildings and some ships as well. He hardly made note of it anymore. In this case, it proved useful, for his ?hair suit? state rendered him quite a different looking man.
    It took Anakin several seconds to understand the meaning and ramifications of the words, "There he is!"

    He'd seemingly been lost and now was found.

    There were moments when the sudden crystallization of all one's aspirations, both recognized and previously subconscious come to the fore in alarming focus. This was one of those moments. At such time, the sum total of a life is reckoned by one?s confidences, doubts, attributes, dreams and acquisitions. If once upon a time a warrior with surety cast his blade before him, the leader stood awash in variables, a veritable tide of concerns and political "dead fish," not the least of which were the leavings of Sidious! And yet, never before had Anakin appreciated Palpatine more than at this moment when the colossal weight of the Empire seemed to whelm the cliff?s edge of the relative sanctuary that was the Ursean Embassy.

    "The Emperor!"

    "Here, over here on the terrace…"

    "Go make sure the perimeter is secure…"

    The terrace became populated in short order by the Re's own militia, the Black Guard and by Ursean Royal Guard in their blue and grey armor and livery.

    "Call medics. These men need assistance...." There was commotion with the room from which the guards had poured forth.

    Anakin put his hand to his head as he swayed.

    "My Lord Majesty." A man in medaled uniform, bowed.

    "Admiral…" murmured Anakin. He recognized the man. Colton. Yes, Ursean Security Forces, Admiral Colton, that was who this man is, he thought hazily.

    “My Re,” answered the white haired man rising insecurely as he’d not been given leave and glancing quickly about before continuing. “My Re... what has happened... here?” The Admiral tried to curb his stare, but the miraculous transformation of the Re of Ursa, the Imperial Executor, Anakin, Lord Vader was astounding!

    “Your... burns...your arm....” stammered Colton.

    Anakin blinked. Instinctively, he turned about to regard his reflection in one of the many panes of crystal in the bank of casement windows that ran along the outside wall of the royal apartments and amazed, his lips parted as he looked on the image of a human male of some height, a coppery brown beard and mane that fell full to below his waist like that of some aesthete recluse, finger and toenails long and curling. Yet again, though he did not need visual proof of it, his right arm hung whole from shoulder to fingertips and over his body that had been splotched with red and swollen blisters, new flesh, untainted and healthy! The mark of Kalee’s volcano and of the Umbrus that erupted there – gone!

    “Last I saw of you not 2 hours ago, you hung in yonder bacta, Dr. Molita certain you would do so for the next 2 weeks if not more,” opined the incredulous Admiral. “The Battle of Kalee is not 2 days past!”

    Colton’s comments ended abruptly as a Black Guard stood by to report. “The perimeter is secure, Admiral. The rooms have been searched. There are no other reported injuries and the engineers say the compound is safe. Shall I notify Command, the Emperor is safe, Sir?”

    “Not until he’s been cleared by a med....” Replied Colton tersely.

    “That won’t be... necessary. See the Doctor and my Ledaren are promptly tended,” said Anakin eager to be alone once again.
It was difficult to talk, to make his jaw and tongue work and his voice sounded as though it belonged to another.

    “You there!”

    The Re, glancing up to catch the movement of a shadow in an open window one story up, and the Admiral both turned in response to the guard who yelled up at the façade above them.

    “Leave her,” commanded Anakin as his eyes found the pale blue glowing gaze peering out from the darkened room.

    Colton nodded in accord to the Black Guard and walked alongside the Re as he entered the long room trailing the silk drape behind him, oblivious to the several curious glances he encountered from the staff.

    The Admiral paused to push his foot at the scorch marks on the marble floor that left the pattern of a man within the center. Meanwhile, Dr. Molita and Ledaren Vos were being escorted from the room, the Doctor on a stretcher and the Ledaren obstinately walking and nearly collapsing on another, mumbling tersely as he was conveyed.

    Reluctantly, Colton ordered the medics away, the guards and staff and with a few curt words left Lord Vader as he requested without monitors, medidroids or physical examination, the medical equipment withdrawn, three busy mouse droids to clean the far end of the room where the rain had been swept in and the scorch marks marred the pristine white of the marble.

    The casements closed, the room was now in calm.
The view from the windows encompassed the north eastern perspective.

    First the Senate rotunda, lit up for the first time in so long. He hadn’t notice it had been in relative dark the past 7 years until now, seeing it’s golden dome dominate the night skyline. There was still a spiral of smoke rising from the northeastern facing quadrant where the missile had crushed a section of the massive structure earlier in the day. He almost smiled. Lighting the dome had to have been Sabe’s hand! Padme would have approved...

    His gaze fell for a moment before turning further north to see the broken pyramid that had been Palpatine’s monument to himself, the “People’s Palace” sitting darkly against the still glowing if empty spires of the Temple.

    Falling there, he could not take his gaze from it. The cold slap of history caught him up and out spilled the bile and disgust he’d managed to swallow for nearly a decade. Every last breath was relived in the moments his eyes remained riveted. The blood drained from his face and with great effort he managed to pad across the cold stone floor to find the ring of his own retching as he clung to the lip of the commode. With little in his gut of which to relieve himself, he heaved dryly before finding the floor a satisfactory place to wait out the dizziness the memory induced.

    “Ugh...” he moaned after awhile, pulling himself up to look at the clinically rendered image in the mirrored wall. Head hung, shoulders hunched, the disheveled drape wet and muddied at his feet, his beard now besmirched with vomit, he laughed at the pathetic man.

    “EMPEROR!” He said derisively.

    Picking up a scissors, his hand trembled as he grabbed up the skeins of his beard and hacked away, his mouth in a twisted scowl, leaving a series of multi-length layers and the same he did with the long hair that fell over his shoulders and back and the shorn hair lay in piles at his feet along with the clippings of gruesomely curled nails that were the result of the accelerated Force- healing Quinlan Vos had evinced.

    The effort had been that of the three of them, Vos, himself and the Ursean Doctor, Molita. He couldn’t begin to explain all that he’d experienced and he wondered absently how the two others had fared. That would have to wait till morning. He wasn’t fit to face anyone, not even himself, he thought morosely, putting his hand out of the streams of scalding water that pummeled him as he stood under the shower. The cold tile felt reassuring, his palm splayed against it to brace him as he listed.

    Was that blood going down the drain?

    He stared through the steam for a moment at the swirl of luxurious water darkened by a tress of his own coppery mane.
Closing his eyes he steadied himself.

    “Pretending that I was living...”

    The brain could not be reorganized to change the perception. Not this time. A change of perception would not change the events of that night,no matter how he protested, railed or thought of other options he might have taken. The adaptive and learning nature of the brain could not “fix” that loss.

    Tears did not cleanse the soul. Remorse only left him weak and he could not afford to be weak. He had been set before Sidious’ inner circle as the cudgel, the will of the Emperor and that had made him many enemies, as if being a “wizard” were not blemish enough in this atmosphere!

    Sighing he slicked the water from his face and pushed himself up. For the longest while, he must have thought of all the slain Jedi as fallen comrades. When the day would come that Sidious was destroyed, then those deaths would be vindicated, justified. It was now he realized, the justification was like the condensing steam around him and he was alone.

    Toweling briskly he looked up suddenly, his mind quickly locating his saber at it’s place on his folded belt just around the door from where he stood. The presence of which he’d become aware in the room beyond showed in a long shadow across the white and glinting marble beyond the fresher door.

    The water dripped from the shower heads quietly. 
Brow furrowed, Anakin slipped out of the fresher into the dressing room to knot the towel around his hips and give himself time to search out the “intruder.”

    TAG: "Intruder"
    Last edited by Corellian_Outrider, Jun 3, 2016
  6. Master_of_les_pauls Jedi Knight

    Member Since:
    May 28, 2010
    star 1
    Name - Owen Lars


    age- 28

    height- 1.78 meters

    weapon- blaster carbine

    ships- swoop bike, v-35 land speeder

    bio

    The son of moisture farmer clegg Lars, Owen had toiled to make life for himself on Tatooine since a young age.
    He greatly valued the traditions of hard work and discipline and he had a strong vision of what he wanted to make of himself and that vision was firmly rooted on Tatooine.

    But the vision was not to be, it was shattered by a chain of key events, first the kidnapping of his beloved stepmother Shim by the sand people. Then the visit of her long lost Jedi son Anakin Skywalker, who would find Shmi and would have her die in his arms. In the aftermath of Anakin?s slaughter of the Tuskin raiders, they came back hungry for revenge and in the attacks that followed Owen's father, cleig, were killed.

    This helped fuel Owen's dislike and distrust of Jedi, but one day when the baby of Anakin Skywalker, Luke, was thrust in to the care of Owen and his new bride Beru, they couldn't refuse but take him in and give him the love they had.
    Out of the blue the peaceful life the Lar?s family had been living was shattered when they were discovered by an agent of Darth Vader who had come looking for Luke. Forced to flee their home, the Lars were forced to take refuge with the ARR on the Jedi Planet of Oussus, during this time the Lars handed Luke back over to his maternal mother Padme Amidala. After the Death of Padme, the Lars fled to the planet Naboo were the couple now live on the outskirts of Theed as farmers.




    Ic Owen Lars


    Location Naboo, The Lar's homestead

    It had never occurred to Owen Lars that sometimes it was just good to sit back and just relax, back home on Tatooine just being able to relax had always been out of the question for one reason or another. Be it Tusken's or sand storms there had always been one reason or another for not being able to completely chill out.

    Here on Naboo life was perfect, well almost.

    It had been four years and there was still a huge hole in the Lars house hold and even the news of Beru's pregnancy couldn't make up for the face they both missed Luke terribly. It had been over four years since they had last seen the boy, Owen's heart still ached that after Padme's murder Luke had been taken by those baby snatchers, the Jedi, and all so they could protect him from his murderer Father.

    Blah what lies! It was those blasted sages that had turned that young sweet boy, the one Shmi had told him countless tales about his kindness, into a murdering psychopath who was now ruling the galaxy. Well he could thank the maker for some small mercy's, like the fact that monster had no clue were they were or where his Son was.

    And for that fact he was truly thankful and with the recent shock news of Beru's pregnancy, they were going some way to healing the hurt of loosing Luke. Leaning back in his deck chair Owen took a sip of his lemonade and smiled.


    The bright afternoon sun shone through the open patio doors into the kitchen and there stood Beru Lars, who was happily preparing a lunch time snack for herself and her husband. Beru looked through the doors and what she saw brought a smile to her face, it had taken a long time for Owen to truly become settled here on Naboo. Owen's initial frustrations of, in his words, being forced to come to this planet, had placed there marriage under huge strain and even though she knew it was partly down to Owen's own grief at the double loss of Padme and Luke. It had nearly brought them to the brink of splitting up.

    But now things were different, it seemed like in the last year the black cloud that had been hanging over them, had simply gone away. The farm had started to take off and there small market stall was finally making money and with the last of money that had been given to them from the Alliance, they had been able to move into a far bigger home. And then two weeks ago Beru was given the news she thought she'd never hear, that she was pregnant.

    At first she had refused to believe the Doctor when he first told her, telling him that she had been told years ago on Tatooine that she could not bear children. After a while of arguing with the Doctor Beru finally gave in and excepted the truth, she was pregnant with there first child, she would never forget the look of pure joy and love on Owen's face when she broke the news to him.

    Not since Luke had been with them had he seen her husband so happy, she knew that Owen missed Luke terribly in fact the both did. As much as she had loved that young boy, she knew Owen had loved that boy far more then she could have and when Luke's Mother had been killed the boy had been taken away to live with the Jedi. Beru knew that had almost torn Owen's heart in half, she hoped that there own child would help Owen's heart to finally heal.

    Once she had finished making the sandwiches, Beru placed her hands on her tummy and smiled. In fact she was practically beaming! With that she placed both sets of sandwiches on plates and walked into garden and took her seat next to her husband and handed him his sandwich. And with that they both sat in silence watching the setting sun of Naboo.

    Tag No one
    Last edited by Corellian_Outrider, Jun 3, 2016
  7. Master_of_les_pauls Jedi Knight

    Member Since:
    May 28, 2010
    star 1
    Name: Kyp Melan
    --Age: 26
    ---Gender: Male
    ----Species: Human
    -----Eye Colour: green
    ------Hair Colour and Style: short cropped brown
    -------Skin Complexion: tanned
    --------Clothing: mechanics overalls
    ---------Physique: slim
    ----------Personality: Funny
    -----------Quirks: Being able to adapt and blend into any situation
    ------------Force Sensitive: No

    Personal Ship yes Owns a space port garage
    -Name: N/A
    --Class: Z-95
    ---Exterior Description: Grey and white
    ----Interior Description:
    -----Weapon Systems: Triple blasters, Concussion missiles
    ------Crew Compliment: One man snub fighter
    -------Hyperspace Capability: N/A
    --------Misc. Specs:

    -Brief History:

    Raised on the planet Bothawui when a space ship carrying his whole family was shot down at the start of the clone wars, his whole family were killed in the crash leaving Kyp to be raised by a Bothan family called Melan, once Kyp grew older his step Father Koth ,a spy master, began teaching him in the way of the Bothan art of spying.

    Kyp now a spy master in his own right owns the Terims fixer a space garage as a front for the Bothan spy network passing information on to the ARR, Kyp answers to Admiral Ackbar personally.




    Ic Kyp Melan


    Location The Terims fixer

    ?Another day another credit? Kyp said to himself as he started shutting up the shop after another hard days graft.

    ?Yeah okay for you boss, your the one pocketing the credits!? Came a voice from the other side of the garage.

    ?What can I say being the boss has its perks!? Melan said spreading his arms out too match his wide smile ?Now get yourself cleaned up and get your self home!?

    ?Yes sir!? The young Bothan said as he stood to mock attention.

    Kyp couldn't help but laugh at his younger brother, even though he had been adopted by Jori's Father Koth. Kyp couldn't have loved Jori any more than he already did, even if they had been flesh and blood there's no way his love could have been deeper. And of course the two were growing ever deeper as Kyp was teaching him the ?family business?.

    Which to any outsiders was to be a mechanic. But to those who knew the family they knew Kyp was training him in something a little different. He was training Jori in the arts of deception because there Father was Koth Melan, who was one of the greatest Bothan spy masters alive.

    The Melan family was part of the vast Bothan spy network, which far out numbered even Imperial channels of espionage, and they had been one of the few family's who had decided to openly give the growing rebellion what ever information they could for nothing. Many of the other family funnelled information into the ARR but they would do so at a price, Kyp's family refused to take any sort of payment for any information that they provided. All they wanted was the honour of knowing that in some small part they were helping to defeat the Empire.

    In fact when Kyp had first joined the family business, one of the first acts his Father had done was to place him in contact with one of the Rebellions highest ranking officers. The Mon Cal Admiral Ackbar.

    Over the years Kyp had used the Terims Fixer as a front for his other operations and had spent a lot of his time passing on information to Ackbar and now that he thought of it. It had been a while since he had heard from the Mon Cal Admiral, well I'm sure that will change with what's happened on the capital Kyp thought to himself.

    ?Hey Jori, wait up? Kyp called out to his Brother ?I'll give you a ride back to Moms?

    With that Kyp closed the Fixer up after another hard days work.


    Tag No one

  8. Master_of_les_pauls Jedi Knight

    Member Since:
    May 28, 2010
    star 1
    Name: -- Jours C'Boath
    Age ---45
    Gender: Male
    ----Species: Human
    -----Eye Colour: Dark Brown
    ------Hair Colour and Style: Long brown wispy with a tint of grey
    -------Skin Complexion: white
    --------Clothing: Light Brown Jedi Tunic and Dark Brown Robe
    ---------Physique: muscular very toned
    ----------Personality: Like to be the centre of attention and is always certain to be in the thick of battle
    ------------Force Sensitive: Yes

    Rank---- Jedi Master

    Lightsabre colour -Green blade

    Hilt description - Almost looks like a plain silver tube apart from a small black strip around the top of the emitter and a small red ignition switch


    Bio

    Traumatic experiences


    Leading the Out bound flight project, which was lunched just a few years before the strt of the clone wars. It was launched into the unknown regions of republic space only to be attacked and almost destroyed; C'baoth somehow managed to escape in one of the dreadnoughts escape pods.

    Only after years of searching to find his way back into republic space, to find that the man he served as a Jedi advisor to when he was but a senator was in fact not just Palaptine but also Darth Sidious Dark Lord of the Sith, and was now in control of the galaxy and had ordered the destruction of the Jedi.

    After rejoining the Jedi order on Dagobah, Jourus was disgusted at what the proud order he had once served had become. Jourus often felt that the Jedi were betraying themselves by just sitting in a swamp waiting, when they should have been out in the galaxy trying to destroy the Sith. The old Jedi master often clashed with other members of the order and C?boath became even more enraged when he discovered that his order had taken in the Son of their destroyer, Luke Skywalker, it was only during the attack by Dagolith did his thoughts change on the boy. In the masters eyes there was no better weapon to use to strike back at the Sith then the son of one of their own.

    During this time Jorus also took on the Jedi padawan Denni Sunwalker and trained her to knighthood. Once the Jedi had fled Dagobah they soon found a new home on board what became known as the Jedi Haven. After a attack which left several Jedi dead and wounded, it was after this that Master Yoda decided to, in C?baoth's eyes, abandon the Jedi and leave the Haven to find those who attacked the Jedi.

    After the fuss over the attack Jorus decided to give Denni her trails and in his eyes she passed them with flying colours but when he called for fellow master A?shard Hutt to help him over see Sun walker?s passing to Jedi Knight the two men clashed over the decision to promote her to full Jedi status. In the years that followed the two men would clash even more, with Jourus keen to establish himself as the leader of the order. The arguments would see C?baoth retreat into his own solitude and he became once again an outsider within the order.





    Ic Jorus C'baoth


    Location The Jedi Haven

    Jorus stood waiting for Master Whie reply.


    "I would like that very much, Master. If you tell me what time you would like, I will look you up after my sleep cycle. I have just done the graveyard shift on the bridge." He explained.



    C'baoth was surprised just how forthcoming Whie was and also how excited his response was. If it had been the other way around and Jorus responding to a dinner invitation after attending the graveyard shift as it was put.

    C'baoth would have responded with a very curt and sharp negative response.

    Chuckling to himself Jorus replied “Well it would seem that I have totally lost track of time durring my seclusion”

    Had he really been cooped up in his chamber for that long?

    “Well master, when ever you awake contact me and we shall dine together” With that Jorus offered the other Jedi a slight nod of the head, he then turned and made his way onto the bridge of his new home for the first time.

    The wise old Jedi master stood for a moment waiting for some sort of reaction to his appearance on the bridge, when none came he called out to those around him.

    “What have we here?” C'baoth called out.

    Tag Master Whie, who ever is on the bridge
    Last edited by Corellian_Outrider, Jun 3, 2016
  9. Master_of_les_pauls Jedi Knight

    Member Since:
    May 28, 2010
    star 1
    Name - Luke Skywalker - MOLP
    Age - 6
    Gender - Male
    Race - Human
    Clothing - Jedi Robes
    Force Sensitive - Hell yeah
    Hair colour - Sandy Blonde
    Eye Colour - Blue
    Build - A child's
    Personality quirk's - Even at such a young age, he displays a fierce independent streak but exhibits a healthy respect for all other Jedi and their Padawan's. He is very loyal to his friend's.

    Weapon - None at the moment - has begun lightsaber training by Jedi Master Yoda

    Traumatic Experiences - He was separated from his family and taken into the care of his father?s stepfamily, the Lars on Tatooine. Black Sun assassinated his mother.

    Bio -

    The only son of the Sith lord Darth Vader and his former wife Padme Amidala, Luke has had a some what troubled start to life. As a toddler he and his twin sister Tanis were separated from not only each other but from there parents when there Mother Padme fled her husband terrified of what he was becoming. Padme had decided to help start an under ground rebellion to the Empire that her husband was now a leading figure of, decided she would not place her children in the obvious harm that would come with starting such a rebellion she decided to split her children up and place them in hiding.

    Luke was placed with his Fathers step brother's and was adopted by the Lar's as there own. It was on Tatooine were the young boy would spend the first two years of his life protected from from his father and the horrors of the galactic war. How ever his father ,Darth Vader, sent agents out into the galaxy to discover the location of his children and one agent discovered Luke's location.

    Once this shocking discovery the Lar's fled there home world with Luke and ran to the boys mother and the rebellion Padme was now a leading member of. It was on the Jedi planet Osuss that Mother and son were reunited, with Luke now back in his mothers care. It was here that several members of the Jedi order made discreet overtures for Luke to join there order. This was a request refused by his mother, who claimed that when her Son was old enough to decide for himself only then would she consider letting him join the Jedi.



    How ever this choice was taken away from Luke, after communication between the boys parents Padme was due to meet with Vader on a secret mission however it was a meeting Amidala would never attend. Agents of the galactic crime syndicate Black Sun placed explosives upon her star ship and she was murdered.

    With both the Alliance and the Jedi realizing that there base had been compromised, they parted way with Luke being placed in the care of the Jedi order. The order fled to desolate swamp world of Dagobah, were Luke began his training under the watch of grand master Yoda.

    It was here that Luke showed the same amazing aptitude for the force that his father had, the young boy's quickly immersed himself in Jedi training and became one of the most promising younglings of the order. It was also on Dagobah were the young boy formed a unbreakable bond with the Jedi Fei'Ona, who was the sister of the long dead sith lord Darth Maul, it was with her that Luke slowly began to get over the loss of his mother and in time the boy considered her family and even began to call her his aunt.

    It was during the attack of the Dagolith, that caused the Jedi to flee Dagobah, that first Luke showed that he posed the same awesome potential that his former Jedi father posed. Fleeing the killer spiders with master Emi-to Shuri and Jorus C'baoth unleashed powerful force wave that destroyed several Dagolith spiders, crushing there bodies. After a short stay on Ryloth, were the Jedi some how managed to acquire an abandoned Imperial Interdictor which they took as there own and renamed the Haven.

    It was on the Haven that Luke would meet his next master and the man who would change his life for ever, Obi Wan Kenobi. It was also on the Haven that Luke would suffer his next tragic loss. In the chaos of taking the Haven, a lone shuttle made its way on-board, the Jedi however were unaware that this ship was loaded with explosives. Once it touched down the shuttle exploded killing and injuring several Jedi, including Luke's Aunt Fei'Ona who's life was taken. As Luke broke down in tears at her death Fei'Ona appeared to him as a force ghost, telling the boy how much she loved him and how proud of him she was.

    It was in this form that she asked the Jedi master Kenobi to take over Luke's training, without a second thought Obi Wan excepted and he became Kenobi's second Skywalker apprentice. Once the dust had settled after the attack it was decided that Luke and Obi Wan would depart the main group of Jedi and head to the to the desert planet of Tatooine.

    En route to there new home world Luke discovered the terrible truth about who his really father was, the young boy had gone his whole life not knowing the name of his father and also thinking that his father had been slain by Darth Vader in the order 66 attack on the Jedi temple. It was during this trip that Anakin Skywalker appeared to him in some sort of astral projection, just taking one look at Vader and after hearing his voice Luke felt an instant connection. It was then he knew instantly this was his father, once Anakin had vanished Obi Wan explained the truth of who Luke's father really was.

    With that the pair settled into a long abandoned moisture farm and lived put there lives under the façade of being Uncle and Nephew



    Ic Luke Skywalker

    Location Tatooine

    Twilight had descend upon the the desert planet of Tatooine and in one dimly lit bed room sat a sandy haired boy. The boy sat on the middle of a bed in a unfurnished bedroom, all that there was in the room was a single bed and a small chest that contained all the boy's clothes. This was not the sort of room you would expect for a six year old boy but this boy was different, this boy was a Jedi in training.

    This boy was Luke Skywalker, the son of the Sith Emperor Darth Vader and was also the apprentice to Obi Wan Kenobi

    And at this moment late at night Luke sat cross legged upon his bed practising levitating a small spanner around a foot off his bed. Each time he lifted the small rusty spanner from the bed his smile grew wider, with each success he tried moving the tool a little higher every time. The higher the spanner rose the sharper Luke's breath became, also the higher the spanner went the damper his body became with sweat.

    After lifting it about four foot Luke fell backwards onto the bed exhausted letting the spanner fall hard onto the bed. The young boy let out a long deep breath, one that was full of satisfaction, from his bed he could see the twin suns setting in the distance.

    Luke looked up at the ceiling of his bed room smiling to himself. Before he had left the other Jedi and come to Tatooine with Obi Wan, the young boy knew he had been ahead of most of the other apprentices but now he was certain his powers were growing beyond his peers. In spite of this he was not prideful or big headed and Luke had his masters reassuring hand to thank for this. Back on the Haven Luke had seen first hand how some of the older Padawan's had grown big headed over there powers and that was not something that was going to happen to him.

    “OK”Luke said to softly to himself “Better get myself to sleep”

    Before the young boy finally laid down he sat back up but this time Luke crossed his legs, shut his eyes and slowed his breathing. Luke sat in the meditation posse that Master Yoda had taught him when he had first joined the Jedi order, his breathing slowed to an unnatural rate allowing him to delve deep into the well of the force.

    Letting another breath out the young boy felt the cleansing power of the force wash over him, pushing deeper into the force and himself he felt at one with everything around him. For the first time Luke looked deep within himself, normally during meditation the boy would keep himself on an even keel but not this time.

    This time Luke went deep inside himself, pushing hard against the inner resistance he had built up and his own nervousness. Peering inside himself Luke caught a glimpse of a fire, a bright burning flame that burned deep within. Just looking at the flame the boy could feel the intense heat coming from within him, feeling such heat terrified Luke and the closer he looked his breath became faster and more intense.

    Then with that Luke's eye's snapped open and he sat there in a cold sweat, his young body shivering despite the humidity of the desert planet. After a few moments the young Padawan's breath became more natural and calmer, then within a few moments Luke was soon tucked up in bed and was soon drifting of to sleep. Luke's last thoughts before sleep claimed him, I'll ask Obi Wan about the flame tomo....

    Tag No one
    Last edited by Corellian_Outrider, Jun 3, 2016
  10. Jerjerrod-Lennox Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Mar 9, 2005
    star 7
    Name: Captain Scyther Vectis
    --Age: 24
    ---Gender: Female
    ----Species: Human
    -----Eye Color: Brown
    ------Hair Color and Style: Shoulder length, brown
    -------Skin Complexion: White
    --------Clothing: Standard olive green Imperial uniform, with cap, black belt, standard Imperial black boots
    ---------Physique: Tall, quite slim
    ----------Personality: Can be stern when the need arises, faithful, follows orders to the letter, smart, intelligent
    -----------Quirks: Bringing order to the galaxy.
    ------------Force Sensitive: No

    Personal Ship
    -Name: Roadblock
    --Class: Venator-class Star Destroyer
    ---Exterior Description: Wedge shaped, gray. 1, 137 m in length.
    ----Interior Description: Basic for Venator class.
    -----Weapon Systems: 8 heavy turbolaser turrets, 2 medium dual turbolaser cannons, 52 laser cannons, 4 proton torpedo tubes, 6 tractor beam projectors., 1 SPHA-T cannon
    ------Crew Compliment: 7,400
    -------Hyperspace Capability: Yes
    --------Misc. Specs: Can hold various fighters and ground vehicles.

    Biography -Brief History: Scyther was born on Coruscant, and joined the Republic navy when she was 16, as she felt she had to fight for peace and order in the galaxy, and to avenge her parents deaths, when they were killed by assassins working for the CIS, as they were working in the Republic military. Now she fights for the empire, trying to bring order and justice into the galaxy.

    --Military History: Imperial Navy training, promoted to lieutenant at 20, was promoted to Captain after the commanding officer was killed by CIS assassins.
    ---Traumatic Experiences: Seeing her parents and commanding officer die right in front of her.

    Synopsis: Captain Scyther Vectis recently joined Lord Vader's sub-fleet Onslaught after having her Venator class star Destroyer modified. She undertook in the rescue of a squadron of Imperial pilots who had been caught in an asteroid storm above Coruscant. Since then she has taken part in the battle of Serapin, and in the battle at Dantooine against the Rebel Alliance with her newly formed group of Star Destroyers nicknamed the Vectis AllStars, where the traitor Grand Admiral Grant was killed.

    Scyther has met up with the Lord Admiral Xavier of the Union to gain information from him about the Union and her ship was successful in capturing a Union freighter which tried to destroy the pilots of the 917th squadron, with special interest in one of her pilots. She has recently taken part in the Battle of Mygeeto, where working with Captain Perrinaw and his ships and troops, she helped to destroy a CIS outpost and fleet there. Unfortunately, one of her group?s ships, the Obdurate, was destroyed in the battle, and has been replaced temporarily by the ISD Danger Zone.

    She now returns to Coruscant with her group, for her next mission and more revelations to come.

    And now a quick introduction to the others of the AllStars clan

    Captain Zack Madison (VenSD Empire?s Will): A Fondorian with a nervous demeanour but makes up for it with quick thinking. Is prone to getting into sticky situations, but when the need arises can prove himself.

    Captain Milos Terric (VenSD Unstoppable): Corellian ladies man with a cheeky sense of humour, has a knack for defeating the odds. Is also the group?s tactical master.

    Captain Eamon Bahari (ISD Peace Keeper): A nobleman who is gaining in confidence despite his nervous personality. Has great experience in battle and is a good friend of Scyther?s. Assisted in the elimination of the Imperial traitor Grand Admiral Grant.

    Captain Dimitri Ivanov (formerly VenSD Obdurate): A very tall Ursean known as "Ice Man" because of his icy demeanour and stern personality. Tends not to show any emotion at all outside, but cares a lot for his crew. Second in command of the AllStars.

    Captain Sergei Arazov (ISD Danger Zone): A very small Ursean with gentle tones. A temporary addition to the group but hoping to become a more permanent addition. Proved himself by rescuing troops from Mygeeto?s surface, now hoping to prove himself in battle.


    IC: Captain Scyther Vectis
    Location: VenSD Roadblock, en route and entering Coruscant

    Scyther desperately needed another cup of tea.

    After the long battle of Mygeeto, she needed a good shower and a good rest. But for now, business needed to be dealt with, especially concerning Commander Alpha. With Doctor Rufus exploring his record for clues, Scyther was listening to two soldiers reporting about troop casualties and about the ground battle itself.

    Casualties from the space battle were high, as sadly was expected. However the loss of Obdurate, one of her group’s Star Destroyers was not, Captain Ivanov had luckily escaped with some of his crew, but his losses were the highest in the whole group. He was now safe on board Empire’s Will with Madison, whilst most of his surviving crew were all over the rest of the ships of the AllStar’s. His major casualties were now safely back on Coruscant by now on board the Huntress, one of Perrinaw’s ships, that was sadly dodgy.

    A new addition to the clan, albeit a temporary one, was the ISD Danger Zone with the gentle Ursean tones of Captain Arazov. He had helped a lot with the ground troops, and hopefully when Ivanov had his replacement ship, Arazov could be added as well. Meanwhile, Terric on Unstoppable and Bahari on Peace Keeper had come out the best, suffering only medium damage.

    They were all heading home to Coruscant, or what Scyther liked to call home anyway. It was a chance now to rest, recover and come to terms with all that had happened earlier.

    Scyther was close to that period of recharging her batteries, but first, time to deal with this last important detail.

    The higher ranked of the two was speaking at the moment about how due to his intelligence and quick thinking, the troops had been victorious. Unfortunately no mention of Commander Alpha, no mention of the air support provided by the group it was all about him and what he did. Scyther felt about ready to slap him. His younger counterpart was looking uncomfortable, that was sure enough to see.

    As soon as the Colonel was finished, the younger man spoke.

    -Oh…-be scratched the back of his head and almost dropped his helmet that he was holding under his left arm-...Sorry...um...-he ignored the irony on Agathon's face-Well, I...at this moment I don't have the exact number of casualties, wounded and destroyed equipment, I will send you a more detailed report about Beta Attack Force. I will say this briefly that the CIS was very well prepared for the attack and my Attack Force was ambushed twice while we tried to reach the mining complex to assist Commander Alpha. The KIG had already destroyed the communications array. We assisted Commander Alpha in clearing the remaining forces in the mining complex where he was wounded while fighting a MagnaGuard. Sergeant Isk also was of a great assistance to us...There is this issue with this Corporal Jekk, I got him arrested because he tried to execute a civilian worker only because he was non-human…

    Scyther nodded and gave a slight smile in return.

    “Thank you solider. First off, I don’t expect you to have exact numbers, only an estimate, but I’m sure I shall see that in your report. Captain Delomeux has only himself given me estimates on starfighter casualties, but we will need exact numbers later on to give to command. Secondly, you have done well to fight and destroy a very powerful enemy, one that was never going to give up until the last droid was blown to bits, and I commend you and your teams for achieving your objectives.”

    Scyther paused to let the commendation sink in and then continued.

    “Thirdly, I will send a message to Captain Perrinaw that Segeant Isk was of great assistance, assistance is always handy in tricky situations and this was no exception. Also Corporal Jekk will be investigated and suspended until further notice, I do not wish soldiers to make rash judgements in the battlefield, if he has a problem with it, he can spend a few days cooling off in the brig.”

    She then smiled a bit wider “And I have some good news about Commander Alpha, he has survived the operation Doctor Rufus performed on his arm and he is now recovering in Medbay. He did lose a lot of blood, but Doctor Rufus assures me he will make a full recovery but he will sadly be out of action for quite a while. Thank you for your reports gentlemen, now go and get some rest, believe me you are probably going to need it”.

    Just mentioning the word rest was driving Scyther bonkers. Soon she reassured herself, soon; just give it a few more minutes.....

    She watched the soldiers leave and considered going for another cup of tea again. There was so much to do and so little time to do it in. Her preliminary report about the battle had already been sent, but another one was probably being due to be written. Delomeux had his to do as well as the person who was taking over for Commander Alpha. What a way to be introduced into the world of paperwork.

    Before she could open her mouth to say to Novell that she was finally retiring for some much needed shut eye, her comm went off.

    It was Doctor Rufus.

    “Sorry to disturb you once again Captain, but I did a little digging around in Commander Alpha’s records, and I tell you, there is some juicy material here”

    This definitely got Scyther’s attention; she sat up a little straighter in her chair. “Alright, hit me with it”.

    “Well, medically speaking, he should be dead, but he’s got a lot of scar tissue that’s keeping him together. Cuts look clean, no jagged marks, I’m not sure what can make those. Anyway, he also has some false vertebrae on his spinal cord, looks like he took a slice there from something, chap who did that fix up job did pretty well”

    Scyther nodded “Looks like our dear Commander has been through the wars in more ways than one. What about personal history?”

    “This is where it gets interesting” Rufus replied. “During the Clone War, he was rumoured to be working with the Jedi so that ties in with the Kenobi story, and that he trained pretty much a shedload of clone commanders and soldiers, most of those became quite famous. He commanded a Venator, was the first ever clone commander to do so, self destructed his ship at the Battle of Ursa, no details as to why. “

    “Looks like he has been a very busy boy, I’ll have to ask him about why he self destructed a destroyer, very expensive that. Anything else to add?

    Rufus took an audible deep breath over the comm.. It felt like he was taking the deep breath before the plunge.

    “I hate to say this sir, but it seems Commander Alpha was on the Empire’s Most Wanted list, he was one of the most top wanted rebels”. Scyther’s face first registered shock and dismay, which then, slowly but surely, turned to anger. She had a vigilante, a rebel right here on board her vessel, and no-one had deemed fit to warn her about this man’s past. This mysterious enigma, who had turned out to be quite famous, and yet, definitely had a hot streak if he was on the Empire’s Most Wanted list.

    She had loose cannon on deck.

    She thumped her fist on the armrest of her Captain’s chair in anger. What kind of sick joke was this? Yes how was she to know that he was in fact a dangerous man, all soldiers were basically dangerous men. But a man such as this, who had a past as bad as probably the Emperor himself or even Lord Vader, to be allowed on board her ship, let alone still be breathing was bad in itself.

    Time to make sure this dangerous enigma was kept an eye on. She took several deep breaths, blew most of her frustration away and spoke to Rufus.

    “Well done Rufus, you’ve done well for reporting this, no matter how bad it is. Because in the end, this is very important, it seems we have a vigilante in our midst and I don’t know now what he can be capable of, whether he has changed or not. So my orders are this, he is to be kept an eye on at all times. He is NOT to leave Medbay unsupervised when he does so, but make it quiet surveillance. If he tries to pull anything nasty, immediately call Security and have him arrested or at least stunned.”

    “Understood sir, although to be honest he isn’t going to be up and about for a while”.

    Scyther nodded in understanding.

    “True, but I don’t exactly trust him for the moment. Until my doubts about him have gone, I’m afraid he is going to have to come up to standard. And if he even puts a toe out of line, I’ll have him”

    Rufus chuckled “I’ll make sure he is on his best behaviour....” His voice trailed off as he started talking to someone else away from the comm. “speaking of which, looks like the Commander has just woken up properly. I’ll report back to you after you get some shuteye”.

    “Good and that shuteye goes for you too. Go on, scat” “Will do sir, Rufus out”

    As soon as Rufus had signed off, Scyther arose from her chair and stretched. This rather interesting and potentially big situation could keep for now, her health came first for now and right now she needed some sleep.

    But not before Ensign Carson reappeared with some news regarding the Lord Admiral Xavier, a Union guest aboard her ship who was helping her examine the Union and it’s motives behind the attempted assassination of one of her starfighter pilots and also some of the Empire’s Will’s crew.

    “Sir, the Lord Admiral will be coming with us to Coruscant. Once we are there he will comm. the Union for his next instructions”

    Scyther nodded “OK, thank you Carson. Try and get him to get some sleep though. If he stands there much longer he’ll end up sleeping standing up.”

    Carson smirked slightly “Yes sir. Will you be heading off now?”

    “Yes, finally” Scyther said with some relief “You and Novell be good, and if you behave yourselves, I might just be nice and send you off for a quiet break”

    “Would be better if we had a five star hotel and food and drink included sir”

    “You wish, goodnight Carson”


    *****


    Around a few hours later, Scyther wasn’t sure how long as she had been mostly asleep at the time, the many ships of the All Stars and Reserve Groups One and Two entered Coruscant space.

    It looked like ship park, dozens and dozens of Imperial ships of all shapes and sizes were there. From TIE fighters to Star Destroyers, the might of the Empire was on show, although some of them looked a little worse for wear after what they had just been through.

    Reserve Group One which included Lance Arrow, Compliance, Zodiac, Stormy Tempest, Royale, Thunderball and some twenty others entered space behind the AllStar ships, fanning out so as to make room for the others and to make sure they didn’t bump into other ships. Following on came the ships of Reserve Group Two which were lead by Revolution and Tumbling Dice and then followed by Black Night, Silent Scythe, Fireblade, Marshal and another thirty others.

    “Did we miss the party?” said Casrah whom had returned onto bridge duty with Haji some three hours ago.

    Haji folded his arms and smiled “Well Casrah, you could say that this is it. Years of hard work trying to crush the CIS and we did it. Now we get to come home, celebrate and go and get some well earned rest. Personally I’d like to go home to Kuat and not come back for about three weeks.”

    “I’d love to come and join you” replied Casrah good naturedly “but I promised myself I’d go back to Corellia, see the relatives and then go rock out at a rock concert. Captain’s helping us out you know”

    Haji’s smile turned into a grin “You know, I thought the Captain might do that, seeing as we are all together as one big family. How generous can you get?”

    “How generous indeed” came Scythers gentle tones as she strode onto the bridge a gentle smile on her features. She felt refreshed after a good long sleep, a nice hot shower and a good deal to eat in the mess hall.

    “Good to see you back Captain” said Haji with a salute “Just in time to join the party”

    “Good” said Scyther returning to her captain’s chair “I know we are late, but let’s let the people that matter know we are here otherwise we may get our heads shot off. Ensign Spion-Bombardier, feel free to organise our comm. calls. Better call Carthagnian first wherever his ship is and then call Coruscant control to say we are here, just in case they wonder who we are”

    “Yes sir” replied the Ensign who had replaced Ensign Atalza whilst he was getting a rest break.

    Scyther studied the newly promoted Ensign. Roma Spion-Bombardier known affectionately as “Bombarder” to the crew came from a life of privilege from one of Commenors richest families. But instead of going into his families public transportation building enterprise, he had decided to join the Academy. And after being put under the tutelage of Lieutenant Haji, and showing some great initiative during the battle of Mygeeto he had been promoted, leaving Novell to join Carson over with Lieutenant Casrah.

    “Captain Delomeux, have our starfighters on standby, just in case some CIS scumbag followed us back. Never can be too careful”

    Captain Minus Delomeux, veteran starfighter pilot, now Head of Starfighters for Roadblock acknowledged the order with a slight smile.

    “Well boys” she said to the other Captain’s via the comm., “welcome home, or the nearest to home you’re going to get for a little bit. Talk to me”

    “Let me just say” said Terric “it’s damm good to be out of a warzone for a change”

    “You never know, we might have walked into one” replied the Ursean tones of Arazov, whose gentle speech was nicer sounding than the more steely tones of Ivanov.

    “How defeatist could you get?” said the more nervous tones of Madison “we came out pretty well I suppose compared I think possibly to others. Well the state of my ship doesn’t show it”

    “May I enquire as to where Ivanov is?” Scyther asked gently.

    “He’s resting at the moment, said he was going to come back up on the bridge in an hour or so.”

    Poor Ivanov, thought Scyther he had really been through the wars. Him and his crew, some of which were now on board the ships of the AllStars, the injured still on Huntress. Scyther resolved to get them off as soon as possible.

    “Well boys, we’ll be on a break soon. Before you know it, you’ll be sipping martinis on a beach somewhere, or perhaps relaxing somewhere nice, maybe even seeing family or friends. I resolve for us all to have at least one week’s break”

    “I doubt old Carthagnian will allow you that Captain” said Terric dryly “perhaps we could stand outside the Imperial Palace and demonstrate”

    Scyther chuckled “Trust you to come up with the quickest solution in the galaxy”

    Suggestions continued to trickle in as the AllStars waited for contact.

    TAG: Lord Admiral Xavier, Commander Alpha, Grand Admiral Carthagnian, anyone on Coruscant who wants to say hi./>
    Last edited by Corellian_Outrider, Jun 3, 2016
  11. Corellian_Outrider Admin FF | Art Curator | Oceania RSA | CR of NSW

    Administrator
    Member Since:
    Mar 9, 2002
    star 5
    Name: Ahsoka Tano
    -Age: 23
    --Gender: Female
    ---Species: Togruta
    ----Eye Color: Azure
    -----Hair Color and Style: N/A
    ------Skin Complexion: Rubicund/rusty colour skin. White markings on her face. White montrals and lekku with bands of blue.
    -------Clothing: Wardrobe consists of light, non restricting clothing.
    Footwear: Usually knee-high leather boots.
    Jewellery: Decorative headdress, white-gold necklace with a japor snippet carving.
    --------Physique: 189 cm tall, agile, lithe, fast. Always keeps active and fit. Two montrals on the crown of her head and three lekku - chevron striped.
    ---------Personality: Passionate. Quick to rush into situations without thinking. Eager to help others. Always testing herself to the extreme.
    ----------Quirks: Racing, flying, extreme sport activities.
    -----------Force Sensitive: Yes

    Biography:
    - Brief History:
    Born on Shili, Jedi Master Plo Koon discovered her force potential and took her back to the Jedi Temple. A bright student that never shirked her studies and always eager to learn more.

    During the outbreak of the Clone Wars, Master Yoda assigned Ahsoka as Anakin Skywalker's Padawan learner, hoping to reign in Skywalker's 'renegade' behaviour and to teach him how to let go. As each time spent with her Master, the more his personality rubbed off onto her.

    Near the end of the war, Ahsoka was forced to go into exile. She returned to her home planet, Shili, to fit in with the rest of her species. Because of her training as a Jedi and upbringing at the Temple, she failed to fit in with their culture. She left Shili to search for a new place to fit in, while avoiding the Jedi Purge. She hope to make a new life of her own.

    A mechanic on Rendili spots her loitering around the spaceport, shoplifting food to feed herself. Taking pity on her, he took her under his care and looked after her. Ahsoka tries to adapt to the new lifestyle and to avoid the temptation to fall back on the olds ways.

    -- Military History: As a way to get more Jedi into the battlefield, Ahsoka was rushed through training from Youngling to Padawan. She was assigned as Skywalker's Padawan learner and participated on missions during the Clone Wars. She accompanied Master Skywalker and Master Kenobi on their tour of duty to restore order and bring peace back to the galaxy.

    --- Traumatic Experiences: Experiencing the harsh, gritty bloodshed of war. Witnessed the attack on the Jedi Temple and the death of her life as she knows it. Inability to fit in and become part of something.

    Lightsaber:
    -Lightsaber Blade Color: Emerald Adegan Crystal
    --Lightsaber Type: Single 1.4 metre long blade
    ---Hilt Description: 30 cm long, bone-white, cylinder shaped hilt. Bulbous pommel cap with small studs around the hemispherical perimeter, with jet-black band separating it from the main hilt. Activation switch located at the lower portion of the hilt. Power dials near the blade emitter.


    ~OOC~ Special thanks to Pashatemur for this is a joint post between us. Artwork created by Corellian_Outrider (myself).

    ~IC~ Ahsoka Tano and Anakin Skywalker
    Location: Ursean Embassy, Coruscant

    A bond between two people is deeper than what appears on the surface. It takes a life of its own as it develops and matures. To be in tune where trust is absolute... to know someone to their core and to the point where each other is in sync with each others actions, thoughts and emotions. It is something powerful... something special.

    To be responsible for causing a rift... that day in the council chamber... to have that bond severed hurt so deep. Ahsoka felt like she had lost half of her senses, that she had lost half of herself. She knew that she should have confided in her Master before going to the council with her decision at the time but those words remain unsaid... and too late.

    As they separated and time went on, surviving each day as they come. For Ahsoka that hole never really healed. There would always be a part of that bond remaining... some part to hold onto during difficult times.

    Over the years rumours and stories of her former Master reached her, far different from the Anakin she knows. Why trust in unreliable sources that don't even know who he is.

    Keeping a low profile on Rendili, there came a vision of Anakin that felt real. Warning of terrible things to come urging her to find him. He needed help, but regret had prevented her from seeking him out in the past. An encounter with a former Jedi, visions and a certain scoundrel had triggered a chain of events that forced her on the move. Upon seeing her former Master's dire status on the holonet when arriving at Ursa, she raced to Coruscant with an urgency to find him.

    There were many complications and compromises at the Ursean Embassy. Ahsoka found herself denied at almost every turn, even by Master Vos, but haunted by a misunderstanding that she felt sure drove events to a dire end, she was more than determined to speak with Anakin or Vader, as her former Master was called, no matter the risk. He could not deny her. Breaking the rules, Ahsoka infiltrated and circumvented the tight Ursean and Imperial protocols to find the painful sight of her former Master floating lifelessly in a bacta tank. A violent stand off with Vos disturbed the peace and 'awakened' her injured Master. A brief moment and scant words with him were afforded her before being being dismissed and assigned to a room close by while Vos and the Dr. Molita worked to save his life.

    Anxiously she waited, the bond renewing even as she did and through it she experience such a harrowing sensation of hurtling through space, of feeling somehow raw, burned. Out in the night sky a rare storm errupted, igniting the dark and as Ahsoka watched, she became aware of movement in the terrace garden below!

    ******

    "What are you doing here?" His voice was soft but commanding if somewhat unsettled. He remembered the unreal and frenetic moments of disgorged emotion, but his stomach wrenching self-recriminations had been interrupted just now and he was uncomfortably self-aware and absorbed.

    Standing in the shadows, he'd come round through the small hallway that connected the sleep chamber to a salon and sitting room and the dressing chamber beyond. The Fresher had a door way which let into the small paneled hallway.

    ******

    "What are you doing here?" His voice was soft but commanding if somewhat unsettled. He remembered the unreal and frenetic moments of disgorged emotion, but his stomach wrenching self-recriminations had been interrupted just now and he was uncomfortably self-aware and absorbed.

    Standing in the shadows, he'd come round through the small hallway that connected the sleep chamber to a salon and sitting room and the dressing chamber beyond. The Fresher had a door way which let into the small paneled hallway.

    "What... I... I…." She stammered feeling caught off guard. "I came here to see you."

    "Well... you see me?" he said stepping forward into the ambient light that streamed in through the cut glass windows, the shadows created by the many bevels playing over his bearded face, the plaster relief walls behind him and the cold stone floor beneath their feet.

    She took a small step towards him, her head tilted to her shoulder as she looked him over before stopping at his eyes. They still had that intensity she remembered. "I don't understand."

    "...Don't understand ... what?" he asked, furrowing his brow.

    She blinked and raised her hand to reach out to touch him but stopped. Unsure, she brought her hand back and clutched the chain of her necklace.

    "The last I saw you... you were in such a state and in pain."

    "Ahem..." he cleared his throat, "Force... healing...Vos knew a technique and Dr. Molita is a Force Sensitive. We combined our efforts..." he said succinctly. Nodding rather woodenly, impatient with his own habitual rigidness.

    "Oh…" She nodded slowly and lowered her eyes. A shiver ran down her back. "Are you okay?"

    "NO...eh...YES...I'm not really sure," he said at a true loss for how to answer.

    He looked around for a moment and gestured he was going to move beyond the small hallway toward the center of the large room where stood a seating area around a hearth and a table among other occasional pieces. The furnishings had been partially redistributed through out the end of the room in which they stood, most of the medical equipment gone, now.

    Her thumb rubbed over the japor carving. She felt dazed, her mind struggling to process everything at once. What she felt before: the burning, the pain... it was connected.

    A mouse droid skittered across the floor as Anakin padded across to the hearth, the scorch marks from the Force lightning now being slowly upbraided from the white marble floor.

    He depressed a button and the hearth quickly sprang to life with flames, an immediate warmth filling the space. Passing beyond to the large corona topped bed draped in heavy gold silk just as were the casement windows, he grabbed up a carefully folded dark blue velvet dressing gown and quickly swung it open and around his body where it billow with its flared hem to fall silently into deep folds about his legs, the hem trailing the floor.

    He pulled the sash into a quick knot and looked back across to Ahsoka, head bowed.

    "Lights..." he called gruffly, "30%" and the lights clicked on around the room in molded wall sconces, from the 3 thick encrusted crystal chandeliers over head and lamps about the room. "You're cold. Please, sit by the fire." he gestured.

    The mouse droids continued to hum busily all the while, the sound echoing off the cool plaster walls and tall coved ceiling, but the low lights created a sense of intimacy that otherwise might seem impossible to achieve in such a grand space.

    He looked expectantly at Ahsoka.

    She didn't turn around, she felt as though she was frozen in place. Squeezing her eyes shut, she sighed. 'Why can't...I just…' she subtly shook her head at herself, feeling the rain water that had dripped from her soaked clothing to create a puddle at her bare feet.

    Her clothing was spare and clung to her wetly. He looked to the casement through which he'd entered earlier and smirked - she’d used an “emergency” exit to reach his room via the garden. She did not trust her situation. Pulling the towel from around his hips, the young Emperor brought it to the drenched Togruta and put it around her shoulders. It was a simple thing to do, but so full of meaning, so full of assumptions and evocative of a past out of which he felt remorsefully tricked.

    His hands lingered on her shoulders.

    She was much taller by far than when he'd last made such a gesture and that was in another life when ... he was called Skywalker.

    Her eyes opened in surprise, turning her head to see his face, her lips worked over a word that was caught in her throat.

    "There's a sonic ...um... dryer in ... there," he mumured, gesturing with his chin towards the fresher and removing his hands quickly. He looked down and then back to her.

    He bit his upper lip - how could he even feel this old self after all ...?! Ahsoka’s brow furrowed, confused at his words before looking down at her soaked self, "Oh.. thank.. thank you."

    He might as easily have held her that close only to relieve her of her head at some recent time. He shook the thought away. "Of... ahem... of course."

    "I-" she cringed, gulping down the build up of saliva and shook her head. Sighing she nodded to him and braved a smile. "I am so glad that you are... are healed."

    He forced a quick smile and nodded.


    Even the habit of attitude had to be addressed. Was he really so immersed in the subtler techniques of dun moch?! For crying out loud! "Thank you, " he tried carefully.

    He wondered how much she would recognize the dark in him. Was it like the too cloying cologne of some doyen who had become accustomed to it’s overpowering scent and no longer could modulate the proper amount when going out into society?

    In spite of his hot shower, he felt ... mired.

    Ahsoka took a step towards the fresher, her eyes still drawn to his. "I better.. get…" Inside she was conflicting with her emotions. She thought she had lost him and now he was here and physically healthy. 'How to say? How to tell? '

    "Better dry off..." he said seeing her indecision.

    She opened her mouth to say more, but his words directed her. "Okay." She whispered and cringed as she turned and headed to the fresher.

    He turned after watching her for a moment, compelled to scratch at his beard irritably with both hands. He'd never deigned to live with a bearded face. The only other times it had grown were on long ago campaigns before he could grow a full beard anyway.

    Ahsoka’s lower lip quivered with a chill. 'They’re probably a violet colour now,’ she thought touching her lips.

    As the door closed, she stepped to the mirror and growled at her reflection in frustration.

    Letting it all out, she buried her head in her hands and took deep breaths. There was warmth in the air from the steam of a recent hot shower. Her skin tingled again in contrast to her body and the ambient temperature. Counting slowly to five in her mind, she took her hands away and looked at the mirror again, her eyes unfocused on the reflection. '"Better dry off."' She repeated his words again in her head.

    Anakin stood by the hearth which was as tall as he, and folded his hands behind his back, "wearing" the room like a formal suit.

    He looked toward the Fresher and puzzled over Ahsoka's return.

    He remembered her answers, and his questions, but he felt there was too much unspoken or even unrecognized and while she had grown, she seemed in her demeanor, young, almost trapped, as if she had stopped the clocks like the ghastly villainess of a famous old holobook, “leaving even the desiccated wedding feast upon the table to keep the rodents in crumbs…"

    The creases at the corners of his mouth hardened as he thought about the concentric "pattern of disturbance" his choices had generated. He thought with alarm about the exponential consequences his actions had generated and putting his hands to his head, he growled, throwing them down to his sides.

    Finding he paced he made a conscious effort to stop and folding his hands into the sleeves he turned and stood to await Ahsoka's return.

    Activating the sonic dryer, she took her top off and wrung out the collected water into the sink before drying herself off as best she could. Impatient, she turned the dryer off and put her top back on, still damp, but at least she had warmed up and was not feeling so cold anymore.

    Leaving the fresher, she paused at the doorway, her gaze took in Anakin. It was strange to see him with facial hair. It brought back memories of a taunt with which she used to tease him when she was younger. Smiling a little at the memory, she walked over to him.

    He stood a little taller at her approach. "Better," he murmured his query, blinking as he found his gaze caught in her open and earnest pale blue glance.

    "Yes," She ran her hand along the length of her right lek. "Thank you."

    He nodded.

    Silence…

    He gestured to a deep and thickly upholstered armchair with a high back, "Sit?"

    "I.." She eyed the chair and bit her bottom lip. "..afraid that I’d be leaving a wet patch."

    Anakin concealed a smile at her care. The environs of the Embassy were something he hardly thought about, but she made him see them anew, remembering how he had felt intimidated and astounded at the beauty and opulence of Theed Palace when a child.

    "Stand by the fire, then..." he said, words trailing off and averting his gaze now sudden cognizant of her maturity since last they’d seen one another, her form silhouetted against the relative dark and glowing with the flickering reflection of the fire.

    Moving closer to the fire, she smiled as her eyes remained on him. In her mind she struggled to piece together what she wanted to say... and how to say to him what she was feeling.

    He looked down beside him where she had sidled up to the fire, his hands clasped behind his back .

    "There... is something I…" She paused as the words left her. Her eyes shifted from his face to his chest. "I can't find the words." Blinking, she took the end of her right lek in her hand. "It is hard."

    He looked up to the ceiling and roved the room with his eyes and sighed. "Maybe you don't know what you want...or maybe you expect to be let down. Where is your mindfulness, Ahsoka?" It came out as if the intervening 7 years had never happened and he surprised himself.

    His voice came out harsh though and he looked to her, his expression softening. The presumption fit him oddly like a cloak unworn or belonging to another.

    "Anakin…" She turned her head and looked at the fire, frowning as she watched the flames flicker.

    He bridled slightly, pursing his lips. Very few people called him by his given name.

    "Yes?" he answered quietly.

    "I felt the pain you were going through moments ago. I thought…" She blinked a few times and turned to face him again. "I thought that I lost you and... and.." She closed her eyes and cringed. "I just... don't know how to say."

    The bond….

    He swallowed and watched her, waiting for her next words.

    She lifted her head up and moved up to him. Slid her arms around his waist and placed her head on his shoulder, and sighed. "I missed you, I didn't want to lose you after so soon finding you again." She whispered.

    He stiffened, his hands ready to hold her away and yet the press and warmth of an affectionate regard was more compelling than the sudden intimacy was disturbing.

    He held his breath and finally clearing his throat, his arms coming to rest around her shoulders, said, "...'Soka…"

    "hmm?" She opened her eyes and leaned her head back so that she could see his face.

    He was vaguely uncomfortable and reached her hands from around his waist, bringing them together in front of him, yet, he could not bring himself to let her go. "I ... I'm... ah..." He was at a loss for words because suddenly, there seemed to be more to say than the moment could hold.

    He looked down at her hands as he held them about her wrists, his vision blurred and he murmured nearly inaudibly, "Your love is ... is... misplaced... my.... Jedi..." but his statement lacked the heft of his own belief.

    His hands trembled as he lifted them to cup her face, framing her chin and cheeks like a bundle of flowers. The day had accelerated into the night from the wasteland of Kalee to the bombing of the Senate. Sidious was dead and now Ahsoka stood before him with a regard he could never expect from any save his Ursean family.

    His head reeled.

    "Ahsoka!" His voice was choked with emotion as he grasped her into a tight and silent embrace.

    The room spun and he shut his eyes against the dizziness and clung to her lithe frame like a man adrift on a heaving sea.

    Soft, warm, though she shivered, Ahsoka's shoulders braced instinctively as he pulled her in close, but rather than resist him, to his subconscious relief and surprise, she received him and nuzzled closer, the connection that once had felt amputated, raw and then later suppressed seemed now renewed, the bond, healed.

    The reviving act was so simple.

    "Ahem," he said moving stiffly after several long minutes, hoarsely whispering,"...for... give me." Though, he could not admit to himself just for what he required forgiveness, but whatever it was, it made a hard knot in his gut and strangled his voice.

    Her eyes widened, those words took her by surprise.

    'Forgive him for what; for what he said moments ago about my love being misplaced and to be mindful? Sending me away when I could have helped him heal? For what we spoke about….' Her breathing slowed. 'That was my decision and the consequences of that were my fault…' Restraining those memories, she blinked and brought her attention back to where she was. There was something about the tone of his voice.... "Anakin.." She whispered. "Something is the matter?"

    He shook his head and moved back, letting go, his left arm extended to gesture he had more to say, but he couldn't speak.

    He felt a deference in her stance, she remained silent and must be wondering if she should go and he shook his outstretched hand, in spite of himself and blurted out, "N...n...no, please, stay... your presence is ... calming."

    Biting her bottom lip, she looked to the chair and back to Anakin. Inclining her head towards it, she gestured as though to ask if he would rather sit down.

    He followed her silent query, his eyes traveling to the chair and back. It was amusing the knee-jerk response he found in himself. He would stand. But nodding he stepped to the high-back chair and lowered his frame to sit.

    Glancing down at the floor, she knelt and sat down next to the fire and looked up at him, her eyes taking in his expression as she was silently wondering how she could help. Finally, sitting and being close to the fire, she felt a weight on her eyelids; the exhaustion from her long and fitful journey from Rendili catching up with her. 'Not now.' she pleaded with herself to keep them open longer.

    In silence they sat, the words that wanted out had already relieved him of the scant lunch he'd had in what seemed a life time ago. The night outside in the Coruscant lights was frenetic, restless, and unending, perhaps more so with the bombing earlier in the day. The ferrocrete and steel, the shiny panes of transparasteel and duraplast glinted with the passing of speeders and maglev trains. The megalopolis thrummed with an incessant beat, the wild and unchecked idols of unmindful desire and regret driving the denizens in their quest for 'things' to assuage those rampant hungers, 'things' and 'power.' The pool of serenity that had lasted for centuries stood ghostlike, yet stalwart against it all. Meanwhile, the ancient Ursean Embassy, rooted in the even more ancient mountain range, with its north facing aspect, dripping green with its verdant palisades, resonated with the sonorous toll of the mountain top Basilica's bronzed bells. In Helera Veg, the candles were lit while the fire in the hearth crackled with compressed fuel.

    Placing her elbow on her knee, Ahsoka rested her chin on the palm of her hand, her digits curled inward, the tips of her fingers against her lower lip as her pale blue eyes gazed at his face, studying. The once noticeable scar above his right eye was gone, his right arm, flesh, not mechanical – all this connoted to her a deeper change, something new!

    Her eyes blinked slowly.

    There were no more pleasant ways to say what had to be said and so after so many minutes of watching the leaping flames burn away only to be replaced by others, Anakin sighed and met Ahsoka's studying one. A faint smile played on his lips and he reached his left hand, the nearest and the one with the habit of touching flesh to flesh, to smooth his palm over her wide and intelligent brow, the endearing white markings falling under his palm only to peak out again as he traveled over the subtle rise of the base of her montrals.

    That brought a smile to her face as she tilted her head back, the tips of her montrals dipping, as she moved into the touch of his warm hand.

    “Ahsoka,” he ventured again, now with more resolution and calm.

    Her left hand reached up and scratched her neck, just under her left lek before letting it drop down, her fingers latching around the chain of her necklace. She silently turned her head up and back as he said her name.

    “If you are,” he said hoarsely, “if you are returned ...to me, then it must be with the full knowledge of what that means and no reservations. I’m... I’ve a habit of loyalty... I need to trust you understand and... accept me and I won’t have you without it. No more...” He struggled, because of course there would be lies. “...I need to... breathe...” he whispered. He looked up and away for a moment.

    "I... I…" she gulped and unintentionally caused her empty stomach to growl. She rose up awkwardly to her feet. "Are you alright?"

    'What if his lungs were not healed properly?' She felt panicky. Reaching out, she placed her hand on his shoulder.

    He up looked at her for a moment and then grabbing her hands in his, broke out in laughter, the room ringing with it. “No, I’m not alright. Can’t you feel the dark, Ahsoka. I’m a Sith, for crying out loud. “Are you alright?” he quoted with a smirk. “See the Temple, Ahsoka,” he said directing her gaze out and over his head to the bank of windows along the outside wall of the large and elegant chamber. The beveled glass gave a shining and near kaleidoscopic view of the spired white edifice far to the north. “I mounted those steps, I infiltrated the command center, and I lead My militia in a full assault. Ahsoka, I slew them, all who remained in the Temple that night. ALL OF THEM! Do you ... understand me, all… “

    "You have to see me for what I am... not the... not through this damnable haze of fantasy in which you've enshrined me. They didn't follow protocol - those idiot ... the docents and mentors... there were younglings.... YOUNGLINGS... still there." His grip on her wrists tightened with the struggle.

    Realizing he was hurting her, he let go and stood abruptly before her. Putting his hand to his brow, he side stepped Ahsoka and stood peering into the fire.

    “No! No! The choice was mine... it wasn’t a matter of protocols... I did what ... what I had to... what I felt I had to do. No! No more justifications... They ... thought I was there to ... to help them …“

    He whirled around. “You see? You can fight me or you can go, Ahsoka, you can go now and never... never look back... OH Force... but you can’t go... loving me... NOT ANYMORE! There was ... blood...” He said through a veil of tears and holding his hands before him.

    No, damn him! He was not alright! He would challenge any who might love him. Who could love this? Obi wan certainly spoke his love by his absence. For no matter how much he claimed to love his Padawan, he had gone.

    His heart sank in his chest. They all go... No he couldn’t think this.

    Healing the flesh had nearly cost more than his own life-force, but healing the soul would not be as easy.

    ...”Come into the water…”

    Celeste’s words passed through him again, the echo in his mind, rippling softly.

    It would be so easy to turn to the dark right now. The answers were so clear, so vindicating!

    “Ahhhhrrrrrrrrrr,” he growled in frustration, clinching his fists.

    His chest was clear, air filled his lungs, and yet the room closed about him and he felt the old fear grip him. She would go... how could she remain?! He had failed her as her Master and had become a monster!

    He thought Ahsoka’s eyes were clear as two crystal pools.

    “I’m not mad... I should be... but I’m not,” he said at length, lifting his chin, and consciously breathing slowly and deeply.

    She stood there in stunned silence. Her eyes wide with shock, her lower lip drooping as she struggled to grasp all of what he had just said. Feeling short of breath, she just couldn't find any words to say. Closing her eyes, she slowly sunk to her knees on the floor. Her chest, her heart felt numb.

    He watched her melt. “Hate me! Rail at me, Ahsoka, or go, GO!” He shouted. “You’re not worth....kil...!” He couldn’t bear her silence, but this anger wasn’t because of Ahsoka. No…

    He dropped his hand. It was all just... posturing.

    Ahsoka’s hand clutched the japor carving about her neck. It was her turn now to not be able to breath. 'Why is he saying this?' She gently shook her head.

    He rushed at her and grabbing her up by her arms, shook her, holding her aloft, her feet off the floor, growling, "LOOK WHAT I HAVE DONE! CAN YOU LOVE ME NOW?"

    Gasping in surprise from being grabbed, her eyes like slits as she stared at his face with a watery gaze, her voice barely audible. "Don't... just stop."

    It had been in battle only a day before that rage had carried him and now he vented, knowing he had to stop, but seeing her lips move he dropped them both to their knees, holding her to his chest, pinning her arms in tight embrace and whispered tearfully alongside her temple, "Ahsoka, 'Soka... what I have done…"

    "...is in the past... it is in the past." Her voice straining to keep together.

    He shook his head against her shoulder, "No... it is with me … every moment I draw breath," he murmured.

    She deliberately tried to slow her breathing down to calm her nerves. Not as effective as coiling the tips of her lekku around her fingers, but it helped.

    "I... I.." She buried her face in his chest.

    "You are choosing not to choose?" he asked her as he held her.

    "Can I do that?" She whispered with difficulty, sniffing back a sob, her breath catching.

    He not so much sat as fell back to look at her in consternation. "NO!” he gritted out between clenched teeth in frustration. “No, you cannot choose not to choose! That's what in the FIRES of MUSTAFAR is WRONG! You know who I am. Are you staying or going?" He drew his sleeve across his eyes in irritation.

    She sighed and shook her head. "I just... don't know what to say."

    “So, you are neither staying nor going? Is that ... it?"

    He leaned back on his splayed hands, digging his digits into the thick silk piled carpet that defined the cozy seating near the fireplace, and looked at her incredulously.

    "Well... some’ like that." She started rubbing her neck and looked to him. "You are wrong about a few things…" She lowered eyes. "...and I can not go. Where does that leave me?"

    "Of course you can go! I said you could go and how the blazes do you know I am wrong? I am not ... wrong... I am wrong... it's wrong... what the hell do you mean?"

    "You.. you are not thinking straight. How can I go?" Her hand moved up and she rubbed her eyes. "Think about it and then think about the things you yell- ah.. said to me."

    “I am NOT wrong...” he protested under his breath. “You can pick your posterior up off my rug and march yourself back to wherever it was you came from and take the fine story with you. Tell it to whomever will listen,” he said defiantly and looking into the fire again, exhausted.

    Groaning to herself, her chin to her chest, she squeezed her eyes shut.
    "Is that what you want?"

    “YES!..." he said, clenching his jaw and then murmured, "No…"

    He hadn't expected this tactic!

    "Then what is it that you want?" her voice quiet

    "I WANT TO KNOW ... I WANT... to know the truth from ... you…"

    He had difficulty with that one.

    Her brow furrowed. "The truth?"

    “The... truth..." he returned, his heart aching and suddenly knowing, the trick would be in believing. Still, he looked into her eyes intently, searching for the thing for which he could not ask.

    She was unsure of what it was that he wanted to know. She arched her eyebrow as her lips mouthed the word 'of'.

    "You are toying with me. You won't choose to either stay or go, which means you feel you might be trapped. I tell you you can go. There is no trap," he said crest fallen. "I will answer for you. You cannot accept me, but are wary of confessing it and more to the point, my negative response; therefore you are avoiding making the choice. If you had no reservations, you would chose easily. I have already confessed myself to you. There's nothing more to say," he said rising and standing fluidly, if tired.

    "I am not toying with you.." She muttered as she laid her back against the floor and looked up at the ceiling. "I didn't understand what truth you wanted from me. Forgive me if I'm not at my brightest…" She sighed and rubbed her left eye with the palm of her hand.

    "Still irreverent, still stubborn...." he muttered, folding his arms and looking down at her saucily reclining in defiance. "I did you the honor of enlightening you. I don't want you here under false pretense. I'm asking if you can remain, knowing what I have ... revealed."

    "Listen.... why…" She moisten her lips. She could fall asleep in her current position. The 'gears' of her brain struggling to turn and the pang of hunger in her stomach. "Why...are you so quick to make judgement of me?" She blinked as something dawned on her. "Wait.... you…" She twisted around on her side. "You do want me... yet you...oh.." falling back down on her back, she closed her eyes.

    “Snips, do you never finish a sentence?” he asked sighing and inhaling on a mantra of patience.

    She couldn't lift her eyelids open. "When my brain is working properly, I do." she muttered in response.

    He paused in mid-gait and thought about what she said, turning to look over his shoulder for a moment in silence and several minutes later, two pillows sailed above to fall with a billow of air next to Ahsoka, where she reclined by the fire. He had climbed under the covers of his bed and lay for a moment searching the smiling cherubs in plaster relief above for something that could distill this absurd moment into something more logical - a logic that suited him, he realized and nearly in slumber himself his ears pricked at the soft sound of Ahsoka’s voice.

    "If you want me to go, you’re gonna have to... carry me. I can't move."
    She mumbled and pulled a pillow under her head, just as another sail and plopped next to her. "Thank yoooou." She breathed, slurring her last word.

    Later, when the sky was as dark as it could get in the unfiltered verve of the eternal city, a quiet hand laid a cover up to her chin, her own hand subconsciously grasped for his as she slept.

    Anakin sat on his haunches, the blue dressing gown about him and caressed her slender hand with his thumb before laying it back on the pillow. He looked about and pulled a few silk pillows from the settee and chairs that he could reach around them and nested her in a sea of soft silken pillows before smoothing over the edge of the blanket he’d lain over her. She was exhausted, he had felt it. He shook his head at the stubborn Togruta before rising and returning to his own warm nest to sleep for more hours than he had in a good long time.


    TAG: Anakin/>
    Last edited by Corellian_Outrider, Jun 3, 2016
  12. Ominous Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Jul 30, 2004
    star 4
    Name: General Praetorian Darkeyes (known as General Torian by most)
    [IMG]
    Gender: Male
    Age: 47
    Species: Human
    Home world: Cholganna
    Affiliation: Alliance
    Personality
    ---Traits: Seasoned, Intelligent, Straightforward
    ---Likes: Drinking, smoking cigars, and killing bad guys
    ---Dislikes: Imperial stormtroopers, Imperial officers, stuffed shirts, armchair leaders, and BS
    ---Habits: Leading from the front, not the rear, telling it like he sees it
    Appearance
    ---Skin Color: tan, battle scars
    ---Hair Color: dark with grey around the sides
    ---Eye Color: dark brown
    ---Clothing: urban camo BDU (no rank insignia), black OPS boots, ---Other Attributes:
    ---Other Details: black duty belt, tactical thigh holster
    Weapons: DC15s
    Starship
    ---Name: Reciprocity
    ---Class: Medium Strike Cruiser
    ---Hyper drive Class: 2.0
    ---Weapon(s): 20 Turbolasers (5 Forward, 5 Left, 5 Right, 5 Aft) Damage: 5D, 10 Turbolaser Batteries (4 Forward, 3 Left, 3 Right) Damage: 7D 10 Ion Cannons (4 Forward, 3 Left, 3 Right) Damage: 4D 10 Tractor Beam Projectors (2 Forward, 3 Left, 3 Right, 2 Aft)
    ---Shields: 1600 SBD
    ---Sub light Speed: 4 MLGT/s
    ---Crew: 1,972 but runs on less than that
    ---Passenger(s): 340 troops
    ---Max Cargo (kg): 6,000 metric tons
    ---Interior Description: special operations capable missions
    ---Other Details: Contains a cargo hold for alcohol
    The Force
    ---Sensitivity: No
    ---Religion: Kill or be killed
    ---Light saber
    -----Crystal(s): NA
    -----Blade(s): NA
    -----Color(s): NA
    -----Handle Description(s): NA
    ---Force Abilities: Can connect with his wife somewhat
    ---Force Weakness: NA
    ---Other Force Object(s): NA
    Biography
    ---Personal History: Currently holds the rank of General and Commander of all Alliance Military Forces, both army and navy. All military strategy is performed by General Torian and Admiral Ackbar. Married to Jedi Emi-to. Bail Organa and MonMothma are the leaders of the Rebellion however they are not involved in direct, military operational planning.
    ---Military History: Joined Republican army in the early days, excelling in special operations. He was approached by Mace Windu during the Clone Wars to watch the Clone armies for any change in personality. Master Windu believed in his gut something was going to happen but didn?t know what and for fear of suspicion, regulated Torian to report back to third parties who would then report to Windu.
    ---Traumatic Experiences: His wife and daughters were "in the way" during order 66 and shot without compunction by the Republic's clones on the day the Empire was born. Grief stricken and swearing revenge, he disappeared and from that day began to roam the galaxy. He watched as his homeworld and others were ravaged by the CIS and Empire.

    IC: Torian, son Achilles
    Location: Yavin IV Alliance base

    The mess hall was a fairly large facility able to accommodate large numbers of personnel at all times of the day. It was open 24/7 and the cooks were rotated over 12 hour shifts. The food was fairly delicious considering the budget they had to work with most of the time. Many fresh herbs, vegetables and fruits were gathered from the surrounding jungles. Sometimes a large cache of food that was stolen from the Imperials was served to the Alliance, but the cooks believed their recipes were far better and more nutritious.

    Torian, Emi-to and Achilles stood in line like everyone else waiting to serve themselves. After loading his plate with food, Torian would turn and add the same to his son?s tray only in smaller portions. Many times Achilles made a disgusted face as the vegetable of the day was slopped down on his plate. He looked ahead at the line and spotted a rather portly fellow with his plate overflowing with all sorts of food; veggies, meat, starches, and sauces. He had found his target. Like any soldier, he would look for the most vulnerable point in his enemy and expose it.

    With their trays full of food and their cups filled with blue milk, Torian turned to scan a place to sit and eat. Achilles spotted the stout Alliance member sit down to his food and dig in.

    “Let’s sit over there dad!” The boy said excitedly.

    “Okay, sure where ever you want son.” Torian and Emi-to followed their son to the table where the chubby man sat and ate. As they approached, the fat sergeant glanced up from his plate to see the General sit down at his table. Immediately he jumped to his feet and saluted, cheeks stuffed with food.

    “At ease Sergeant.” Torian ordered.

    The man sat back down and adjusted his napkin under his chin and continued attacking his food with feverish delight.

    Torian moved the food around on his plate and looked up at his wife. “I hope you like the food here. It is probably much better than what you are getting over at the Jedi quarter.”

    She glanced up at her husband and smiled quietly.

    Achilles stole a quick glance at his parents who were obvious distracted by one another. Turning back to his veggies he looked up and saw that the overweight patron was tilting his head back to wash down his food. As quickly as he could, he willed his veggies with the Force to the man’s plate without anyone the wiser.

    Torian looked back at Achilles smiled. The boy had his veggies on his fork and a mock look of chewing them up in his mouth.

    “Good huh son?”

    With his cheeks puffed out like there was a mouthful of food in them, he nodded and smiled with a thumbs up.

    “Well there is plenty more! You can go back for seconds!” Torian was delighted that his son loved vegetable so much.
    Again and again Achilles moved his veggies with his mind to the sergeant’s plate without anyone knowing. The heavy sergeant was getting to the bottom of the plate finally and stopped to adjust his belt and take a drink. Looking back down, he noticed there was more food than what he thought he had left. Grunting slightly, he dug his fork into the vegetables and ate. Taking a drink again to wash it down, he found that what he had just eaten was still there! Raising his eyebrow, he looked at his surroundings, making sure everything was okay. He looked into his cup, for a minute believing that maybe he was drinking alcohol and it was playing tricks on him.

    Torian looked down at his son’s plate and found all the vegetable gone. “Good job boy! Here have some more...they’ll keep you healthy.”

    To Achille’s frustration, his father put more veggies on his plate!

    No worries he thought, I will just keep giving them to this guy.

    Just as the vegetables elevated above his plate and began to hover over to the sergeant’s plate, Torian caught his son!

    “What the hell?”

    The veggies came down with a splat on the table between Achilles and the sergeant.

    Emi-to looked up from her food and asked, “What’s the matter?”

    “Nothing.”

    Torian turned back to his son who was awaiting a scolding.

    Torian winked at his son and said, “Do it again.”

    Achilles smiled and when the sergeant wasn’t looking, he placed the veggies on the man’s plate. The sergeant again looked surprised but ate nonetheless.

    “How’s the food sergeant?” Torian asked without laughing. “Very good General sir!”

    “Are you getting enough?”

    “Yes sir. It seems like my plate is bottomless sir.”

    “How so sergeant?”

    “Well sir,” adjusting his belt again, “It seems like when I eat and then turn away and back again, the food is still there!”
    He burped loudly, “Scuse me sir. I guess I gave myself more food than what I thought.”

    “No problem sergeant.”

    Torian couldn’t help but laugh while the sergeant gave him a quizzical look.

    The General leaned down to his son and whispered, “Can you make his cup move across the table?”

    “I can try.”

    The sergeant had his face down near his plate, shoveling in the food like it was his last meal when he glanced out of the corner of his eye, his cup was moving across in front of him!

    He jumped back from his plate and almost fell over backwards. Torian belted out a loud chuckle at the man’s reaction.

    Emi-to jumped slightly at her husband’s laughter. “What’s so funny?”

    Torian quickly replied, “Nothing!”

    Just as she was about to say more, a fight at a nearby table broke out. Quickly reacting to the fight, Torian jumped up and over their table to where the fight was occurring. Without thinking he leaped into the air and crashed on top of the two pugilists. Standing to his feet with their collars in his fist, he picked them up off the ground. Blood was trickling from one of the men’s mouth.

    “What the hell’s going on here?”

    The two fighters straightened out their uniforms. “Sorry sir. It’s nothing. Forget about it.”

    Torian stood even taller than before over the Rebel, “I don’t give a damn about your opinion of the situation and I sure as hell ain’t gonna forget about it. Now either tell me now or tell me in the brig! You understand me soldier?”

    “Yes sir. It’s just that our platoons have been training and training and we got into a discussion on who was better…”

    Torian turned to the other, “Is that true?”

    “Yes sir.” He stood up taller and looked directly ahead, avoiding eye contact with Torian. “Permission to speak freely General.”

    “Permission granted, lieutenant.”

    “When are we gonna get in the fight sir?”

    Everyone around the table nodded in agreement of the question.

    “We’ve been training like he said but we haven’t been able to apply it in combat. The men are restless sir; they need to be tested in battle... sir.”

    Torian relaxed his posture and looked around at the faces. The men were hard looking and razor sharp. They were well in their rights to ask that question.

    TAG: Emi-to, any other Alliance members
    Last edited by Corellian_Outrider, Jun 3, 2016
  13. Ominous Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Jul 30, 2004
    star 4
    Name: Sergeant Hicks
    [image=http://www.alicia-logic.com/capsimages/a_013MichaelBiehn.jpg]
    Gender: Male
    Age: 27
    Race: Human
    Personality: soft spoken, calm and level-headed, he provides contrast to other members of the Alliance, including the bull-headed Torian. Hicks is also skilled in the use and understanding of most weapons.
    Weapons: Specialist in all Alliance/Imperial personal weapons
    Bio: Part of Section 8, mercenary crew, while on a mission with Torian to rescue a training squad, he was badly injured and barely survived their rescue. He is completely healed but not 100% operational yet.

    Name: Sergeant First Class Lykos Rhor
    [image=http://img245.imageshack.us/img245/9835/1120139091hi7.jpg]
    Gender: Male
    Age: 35
    Race: Human
    Personality: Adventurous, Innovative, Decisive, Daring, Imaginative, Level-headed, seasoned veteran of many battles with Torian
    Weapons: Specialist in all Alliance/Imperial personal weapons
    Bio: From the same planet of Torian, close family ties, joined Torian when the Alliance was formed

    Name: Garm Bel Iblis
    [image=http://cdn2.ioffer.com/img/item/144/491/353/RbkC0e0YEQgcq8H.jpg]
    Gender: Male
    Age: 36
    Race: Human, Corellian
    Personality: Similar to Torian
    Weapons: Katana Fleet
    Bio: Watched as the Republic was torn apart by Palpatine, and attempted to thwart the Chancellor. He became a target of the Imperials when he failed. He is loosely associated with the Alliance but does not trust MonMothma. His allegiance lies with Torian. He is the commander of the Katana Fleet.

    Posts will come shortly, thanks.
  14. Ominous Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Jul 30, 2004
    star 4
    IC: Sergeants Hicks and Rhor
    Location: Range outside the base


    Although there was a lull in fighting at the moment, tactical skills and training were still performed each day for the soldiers that protected and fought for the Alliance. Until they were fully recovered, Rhor and Hicks were transferred to weapons training as range masters. Unlike the white-clad stormtroopers who couldn?t hit the broad side of a Bantha?s butt, Alliance soldiers were known for their deadly accuracy with personal weapons.

    ?Simplicity is key to your survival on the field and in close-quarters battle.? Rhor?s experience in gun fighting and numerous battles came out in his teachings. Hicks walked around inspecting each trainee. ?But first, safety is paramount out here when training. The last thing I want to do is have to go tell your parents you are dead because you were stupid. DO YOU UNDERSTAND ME??

    ?YES SERGEANT RHOR.?

    He continued walking up and down the line of soldiers, who were standing in front of their targets. ?Rule number one?Treat every weapon as if it is loaded. There are no exceptions. Rule number 2?Never let the muzzle cover anything you are not willing to shoot. Rule three, keep your finger off the trigger until your sites are on the target.? He stopped and paused in front of the group. ?We were on a mission one time, on a Force-forsaken planet. When we landed and jumped out, one of our men had his finger on the trigger and when he hit the ground hard, he blew a hole into the back of his buddy. Lastly, rule four. Be sure of your target. Never shoot anything you are not sure of, especially your instructors.?

    The group let out a collective laugh.

    Hicks stepped back behind the group. ?Face your targets. Make ready.?

    Each trainee changed their stance to the modified Weaver position, on the balls of their feet. drew their weapon from their thigh holster and brought it up to the target. Pulling back the blaster, they checked the energy gauge and holstered.

    ?Grip?clear?stack?press.?

    In unison, they blew a hole into the center mass of their targets.

    TAG: No one yet
  15. CmdrMitthrawnuruodo Jedi Grand Master

    Member Since:
    Jul 1, 2000
    star 6
    GM Approved

    Name: Kaicus Cor
    Gender: Male
    Age: 45
    Species: Human
    Homeworld: Coruscant
    Affiliation: Jedi
    Personality: WIP
    Appearance
    [image=[url]http://barbossamonkey.webs.com/KaicusCor.jpg][/url]
    ---Skin Color: Slightly Tanned Caucasian
    ---Hair Color: Graying Black
    ---Eye Color: Milky white, Blind
    ---Clothing: Traditional Jedi Robes worn under pieces of repainted Phase II armor.
    ---Other Attributes: Blindfold
    ---Other Details: Scarring tissue around his eyes from the injury he suffered that cost him his eyesight.
    Weapons: Hold-out Blaster Pistol, Lightsaber
    Starship
    ---Name: Sigma One
    ---Class: Nu-class Attack Shuttle
    ---Hyperdrive Class: 1.0
    ---Weapon(s): Medium Laser Cannons and Double Light Laser Cannons
    ---Shields: Equipped
    ---Sublight Speed: 1,000 km/h (Space), 850 km/h (Atmospheric)
    ---Crew: Pilot, Gunner, Astromech Droid
    ---Passenger(s): 30
    ---Max Cargo (kg): 2 Tons
    ---Consumables at Max Capacity: 2 days of air, 64 rations, 128 liters of water
    ---Interior Description: Spartan in design with thirty seats lined on either side in rows of fifteen and equipped with crash webbing and cargo nets above and below the seats. Cockpit lowers into the main cabin for easy access. Interior gradually being redesigned by Cor's clonetroopers for more personal, practical living.
    ---Other Details: Advanced Sensor Systems, Communication System, Tractor Beam System, Small Docking Bay with a Speeder Bike, and a short-term Medical Bay. Sigma One was obtained on Katarr as General Cor and his loyal clonetroopers fled from Order 66.
    The Force
    ---Sensitivity: Average
    ---Religion: Lightside
    ---Lightsaber
    -----Crystal(s): Unstable Composite Blue and an Illum
    -----Blade(s): One
    -----Color(s): Blue
    -----Handle Description(s): Casing is made of black beskar but covered in Mon Calamari Pearl and Corellian Silver.
    [image=[url]http://barbossamonkey.webs.com/KaicusLightsaber.jpg][/url]
    ---Force Abilities: Force Listen, Force Sense, Battle Precognition, Farsight, Mind Trick, Force Stealth, Psychometry, Force Push, Force Wave, Force Pull, Force Jump, Force Sprint, Force Deflection.
    ---Force Weakness: Take away the Force and he's truly blind and helpless. Incapable of commanding the Force for more powerful and dramatic Altering abilities such as Force Lightning with the exception of the more advanced forms of Force Push. Connection is currently self-severed.
    ---Other Force Object(s): A stubborn Holocron with an imprinted Jedi Master that has a sarcastic and mildly humorous, but mostly serious personality. Currently cannot be accessed by Cor.
    Biography
    ---Personal History: Kaicus Cor was one of the children of the Jedi, his future chosen for him at infancy the moment the Jedi learned he was strong in the Force. When he finally became of age to leave his family, he began his lessons in the ways of the Force and the Jedi. He was a quick learner as well as quick with his tongue which often got him into more trouble than his master's would have liked. At the age of adulthood, Cor would pass his trials and become Knighted a little over a decade before the events of Naboo.

    His first task as a Jedi Knight would see him mediating a dispute between neighboring, rival worlds over trade routes and who had priority over which routes and what would be considered a fair tax for the neighboring world to use those routes. Although it was a task better suited for a learning padawan than a newly knighted Jedi, Kaicus Cor would unravel a plot by a trading corporation to seize control all routes and force both worlds to pay heavy taxes for the use of it. In light of the revealed plot, the petty rivalry between the two worlds became moot and led to them agreeing to share the routes with equal taxation that filled their coffers and not a greedy corporation.

    The following years would see Cor traveling across the galaxy in service of the Republic and the Jedi Order; mediating disputes, unraveling plots, dealing with criminal organizations or the aftermath of a horrendous event, or participating in small military campaigns for one reason or another.

    ---Military History: When the Clone Wars broke out, Kaicus Cor was a well seasoned Jedi Knight and experienced in the art of war which made him suitable to lead a detachment of clonetroopers against the droid armies of the Confederacy. For the next three years, Cor and his small detachment of clonetroopers would see and fight several fronts of the war until they became dug in for the remainder of the war on the planet Katarr, a once lifeless world that had been destroyed by a Sith Lord thousand years ago and slowly restored by the Miraluka and the Ithorians, to prevent the Separatists from gaining a foothold between two key Republic worlds and in which to launch an assault against those worlds and others.

    It was here that Cor would establish a bond between his personal squad of clonetroopers and himself as they fought a seemingly endless battle alongside the rest of the clone army in the mountainous regions of Katarr. It was this bond that would save his life from Order 66 as three of the five clonetroopers died disobeying the order in an attempt to protect the Jedi General from their own brethren.

    ---Traumatic Experiences: During Order 66 and as his own army turned against him save for the five clones that he had befriended and shed blood beside for over a year on Katarr, Kaicus Cor would lose his eyesight in the conflict from an injury he sustained as a Separatist warhead landed in the midst of the fighting clonetroopers and the Jedi General. He would never regain his physical ability to see but with the help of a Miraluka, he would relearn how to use the Force to see for him much like the sightless Miraluka use the Force to see.

    However with the slaughtering of the Jedi reverberating through the Force, Cor would severe his own connection in order to avoid the emotions and deaths he could feel from each of the Jedi as they died at the hands of the very army they had led. In doing so, it has left him mostly helpless and dependent on his loyal clonetroopers, as well as leaving him unaware that Jedi had survived and reformed on Dagobah and elsewhere.

    He would wander with his men avoiding Imperial troops, bounty hunters and the Emperor's hunters from then on.


    Name: CM - 5928 "Doc"
    Gender: Male
    Age: 13 (Chronologically), 26 (Physically)
    Race: Human Republic Clone
    Personality: Insistent and persistent when it comes to the health of his patients. Mild sense of humor and always positive even in a dire situation.
    Weapons: DC-15S Carbine Rifle, Blaster Pistol, Medical Equipment
    Bio: A medic for General Cor's core unit, he often found himself patching up the Jedi General and his clonetroopers in the Battle for Katarr. When Order 66 was issued by Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, he and four other brothers refused to obey the order and helped General Cor escape from Katarr.

    Name: CC - 6669 Lieutenant "Six-Niner" or "Sixes" Gender: Male
    Age: 13 (Chronologically), 26 (Physically)
    Race: Human Republic Clone
    Personality: Serious and determined, ingenuitive in combat.
    Weapons: DC-15A Blaster Rifle and Blaster Pistol
    Bio: General Cor's right hand man in the Battle for Katarr. He was the clone commander that convinced four other brothers to disobey Order 66 issued by Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, citing that General Cor was not a threat to the Republic and had risked his life for them on numerous occasions throughout the war on Katarr, therefore deserving their loyalty. He and Doc are two of five clones that survived the escape from Katarr with General Cor.

    Name: R3-D4 "Copper" or "Cops" Gender: Male
    Age: 6 months
    Race: Astromech Droid Personality: Sassy
    Weapons: Arc-welder
    Bio: Copper was the navigational astromech droid assigned to Sigma One when General Cor and his rogue clonetroopers commandeered the attack shuttle as they escaped from Katarr and the clone army bent on executing the Jedi General. He had tried to sabotage the shuttle in an attempt to prevent the Jedi from escaping but was foiled by Sixes. Sixes would then remove Copper's directive meant to prevent "enemies of the state" from using Republic property and to report the whereabouts of said enemies to the nearest listening post, resulting in the astromech loyally obeying General Cor and his two troopers and developing an independent personality of his own.


    General Kaicus Cor, Sixes and Doc

    Greedy Swill Cantina, Rodia

    Darkness.

    It was a constant.

    As constant as the darkness that had polluted the Force just before the axe had been brought down upon the peacekeeping guardians of the galaxy. They were just as blind to the danger presented to them than as the lone figure who sat at a stained table in the back of a crowded cantina, nursing a glass of spicebrew, was now. But unlike him, they still had the ability to see the danger coming before it happened.

    The figure took a long draught of the drink in his hands before reaching up to itch and adjust the faded brown blindfold that was wrapped around his eyes. He tilted his head slightly to the side as he listened to something that interested him before going back to his own drink. Any noise he may have heard would have been drowned out by the loud music being played by the Rodian band and the buzzing whitenoise of conversation, drinks clinking together and feet padding across the permacrete tiled floor.

    It was the worse place for a blind man to be. There was too much sensory data flowing all around him for any of his other senses to differentiate between them. Until one sound rose above all in front of him and unwanted.

    “Asu'me na koona, teno ah Jedi?” spoke the unfamiliar voice that belonged to the gray skinned Rodian as he sat down across from the blind man and his drink. He received no visible response from the old human for the longest minute and the Rodian shifted in his seat uncomfortably, seemingly aware that despite the blaster pistol he held in front of the human, he was not as confident it could stop a Jedi

    “Jedi?” came the reply in a gruff voice, wary of having to entertain yet another fool. “I am no Jedi.”

    The Rodian waved the pistol impatiently. “Na t'chuta, voola ka Order 66 mah't'a ceeno rama Jedi.”

    ”Sir, incoming orders,” the clone commander called from below to his superior as the man stood at the top of the cliff and scanned the switchbacks for the droid army that had been attempting to ascend the mountain so they could invade the Miraluka city on the other side.

    “Lets here it, Commander.”

    “Yes, General.” The communicator on his wrist came to life with a pint-sized holographic image of a cloaked figure.

    “Execute Order 66,” spoke the figure most ominously.

    “What is Order 66? I am unfamiliar with that... Commander Fists?”

    “I'm sorry, General.”

    Crimson filled each man's vision.

    The blind man sighed from mundane task of having to deal with another foolish bounty hunter. “Are you that desperate for money that you need to harm an old, blind man and lie to your employers that I am Jedi?”

    “Pa'choota!” The blaster rose synonymously in time with the angered response. “Seemo na, cay na seem!”

    “No, my friend. It is you who will be silenced.”

    All conversation and the music stopped as the whine of a blaster rifle muted the bounty hunter as predicted.

    ”General! Man down!” came the muffled cry. Someone was standing over him and grabbing him by the arms to haul him to his feet. He could not see and the pain. The pain was overwhelming. His stomach churned from the agony and he felt like retching. He did when he tripped over something soft encased in something hard and the morning's rations decorated the rocky flooring before that someone hauled him back to his feet.

    “Doc! Where are you, kriffit!” Which of the clones had him around his shoulder? What were they doing? Could he trust them or were all of the clones turning against him and why? Then he felt it, one by one, a cry of agony and surprise, then silence. His grip on the clonetrooper tightened as he felt each and every one of his brothers and sisters dying and he did not understand why.

    “Lieutenant, where do you think you are going with the General?” another of the same voice halted their progress. He heard more than sensed the blaster rifle firing and hitting the new voice's body. He smelled the charred plastoid metal armor and flesh and knew that the clone was dead, killed by one of his own.

    “Sixes?” he croaked past the pain in his throat. It was sore. Had he been screaming earlier? How bad off was he and what had happened to cause such injuries? And why could he not see?

    “I'm here, General. I won't let anything happen to you, sir.”

    The Rodian's smoking body lay face down on the table before it was carelessly shoved out of it's sit and onto the floor. The man responsible for shooting the bounty hunter in the back sat down in it's place and set the blaster rifle on the table. He was clad in the armor of a clone trooper but it had been painted gray with the blue stripes down his shoulders and arms still remaining. He reached up and pulled the helmet off, revealing that he was indeed a clonetrooper, and set it beside the rifle as the cantina returned to normal as if nothing had happened.

    “I leave you alone for five minutes and you already are making new friends, sir.”

    The blind man merely smiled and lifted his drink to his lips to take another draught of the spicy liquor. “You know me, I always enjoy a good conversation and a drink.”

    “You sure know how to pick them, General.” The clone gave the dead Rodian a quick glance and a kick for good measure before gesturing to a servo-droid and ordered a drink for himself.

    “Thank you though, Sixes.”

    “You're welcome, sir.”

    “Has Doc managed to restock his supplies?” General Cor asked and blindly stared at his empty glass after trying to take another sip only to discover that he had drank it all. When the servo-droid returned with his companion's order, he asked for another spicebrew.

    “Mostly. He's having difficulty acquiring a piece of equipment for Sigma. Copper is helping him. But that is not why I am back so soon.” Sixes leaned back in his chair and slowly sipped at his frozen drink.

    “You found something interesting?” Cor set the empty glass down on the table and lifted his absent gaze in the direction the clone was speaking from. Sixes nodded even though he knew his superior could not see it. Habit.

    “Sort of, sir. I had Copper listening in on the Repub...err Imperial military frequencies and amongst the usual chatter he learned that there had been some sort of attack on Coruscant. The Empire is being tight lipped about what happened or who was involved or what was attacked, so I am guessing it is someone or something very important.”

    Cor was silent as he absorbed the news and underneath the blindfold, his brow furrowed forward as he thought about what could be so important that the Empire would be quiet about it even on their own secure frequencies. “An astute assumption, my friend, and most likely true. Who or what indeed had been attacked.”

    “Shall I have Copper listen for more?”

    The former Jedi General shook his head silently and hesitated in answering when the servo-droid returned with his third glass of the spicebrew. He graciously thanked the droid and took the drink the moment it was handed to him, but before he could answer the clone, the droid interrupted.

    “Pardon the interruption, sir, but the owner wishes to know whether you will be paying for damages and cleanup caused by your friend's... disturbance a moment ago?”

    “Of course, droid. Sixes, see if our friend down there has any credits to pay for his mess?” General Cor grinned as he felt the table shift from his friend's movements. The clonetrooper leaned over and rolled the dead Rodian onto his back before rifling through the alien's pockets for the credits. After the third pocket, he found plenty and held them out for the servo-droid to take. The machine apologized in advance and accepted the money before walking away.

    “So about Copper?” Sixes continued once the droid was gone and the business of looting a dead man of his money already forgotten.

    “No. Keep him off for now. The Empire will probably be looking for any of the responsible parties to hack into the network in search for news of the attempt.” The blind Jedi sighed softly. “We do not need to attract any more unwanted attention.”

    ”Hold him down Sixes!” commanded the clone medic and he felt strong hands pinning him against the cot in the attack shuttle's small medical bay. “General, I need you to do... um, whatever it is Jedi do when they are hurt. It'll make it easier for me to extract the shrapnel!”

    “I can't...” he croaked, his throat dry from the screaming he had done ever since the Separatist warhead had detonated on top of him and his clone army just before Commander Fists betrayed him. Them. All of them. He felt them die one by one. Their agony, their shock and fear overwhelming him like a great flood within the Force. He could only do one thing to shut it out and so he had wrapped the Force around him like a cocoon to the point that it suffocated his connection.

    And then heard only silence and not just the silencing of the dying Jedi far, far away, but everything else as well. He could not hear the whisper of the Force or sense the presence of creatures or feel the vibrations of the ever changing environment around him.

    Not only was he blind in sight but he was now blind in the Force and it unsettled him.

    So did the sudden impact against the attack shuttle and Doc did everything he could to keep his patient on the cot without further hurting him.

    “That damn droid!” Sixes cursed. “He must of sent a broadcast to the ship in orbit!”

    “Then it is probably best that we leave Rodia soon. Who knows what might have noticed Copper's intrusion.” The clone took one last sip of his frozen drink and set it down on the table before standing and helping the General to his unsteady feet. “How many spicebrews did you drink?”

    “I only managed to finish off two,” came the reply.

    “Alright, let me rephrase that. How many drinks besides spicebrew have you had since I left you here?”

    “Um... I don't remember.” Cor answered and held onto his friend as the clone guided him out of the cantina and out onto the sweltering streets of the domed capital, Equator City.

    “In other words, one too many. Come on. Let's get you back to Sigma One before you pass out and I have to carry you over my shoulder.”


    TAG: Anyone?
    Last edited by Corellian_Outrider, Jun 3, 2016
  16. Vasarian Jedi Youngling

    Member Since:
    Aug 7, 2010
    Given the seal of approval by pashatemur. Looking forward to gaming with you all!

    [image=[url]http://www.blogcdn.com/www.joystiq.com/media/2008/07/wanted-wesley-poster.jpg][/url]

    Earyn [pronounced "eh-ah-rin" in Basic]
    Age: 27 galactic standard years
    Gender: Male
    Species: Human
    Eye Color: Brown
    Hair Color and Style: Brown, short and unkempt
    Skin Complexion: A healthy tan color, though the mileage gained through Earyn's travels is pretty evident. He carries quite a rough and weathered look, but carries it well.
    Clothing: Brown synthleather, waist-length coat; loose-fitting, creme-colored undershirt; black, baggy trousers with two dark blue lines just above his boots; well-polished black boots. Earyn possesses a few more fashion options in his wardrobe, but this is his outfit of choice for business and day-to-day life.
    Physique: Gangly and slim, but not in an unhealthy fashion. Earyn looks more like a gymnast than a bodybuilder, possessing more strength and leverage in his lower half, which has proved useful in "certain situations".
    Personality: Aggressive [to a fault], business-oriented, charming, described by some as a "risk-taker", has trouble with figures in authority positions, has a knack for turning situations into 'dramatic escapades', quick-witted, stubborn, "silver-tongued", wary.
    Quirks: Diagnosed with a severe case of obsessive-compulsive disorder in his youth [which has manifested itself in his often-clean appearance and his tendency to check his blaster pistol's energy pack every few minutes, which can lend to awkward situations], tends to lean his head slightly to one side, cross his arms, and light a cigarra while in conversation with others [and guess what? He'll often offer you one too].
    Force Sensitive: Yes, but Earyn's, of course, unaware of this and attributes strange turns of fortune in his favor to "smuggler's luck".
    Personal Ship
    Name: -
    Class: Kuat Systems Engineering modified CloakShape starfighter
    Exterior Description: A boring shade of light-creme in color, Earyn's ship has not been heavily modified on the outside from the originals produced by Kuat Systems before the Clone Wars. Some of the additional reinforced hull, that made the starfighter, has been removed though for additional speed.
    Interior Description: The innards of the ship have been heavily modified to include extra space for cargo [and stowaways, perhaps], the addition of a hyperdrive [rendering the use of the stock model's hyperdrive sled unnecessary], and an updated targeting and astrogation system [as the stock model's was quite... archaic].
    Weapon Systems: Laser cannons [2, fire-linked], proton torpedo launchers [2, four missiles each - standard load].
    Crew Compliment: Pilot [1], Passenger[ s ] [1]
    Hyperdrive Capabilities: Stock model class 1.0, no backup.
    Miscellaneous Specs [modified from stock model]: Maximum acceleration: 3,800 G; maximum speed [atmosphere]: 1,110 km/h; cargo capacity: 80 kilograms; consumables: 3 days; cost: 60,000 [new], 15,000 [used].
    Brief History
    Let's be honest here - Earyn's story doesn't begin with a bang like some of our greater galactic heroes, but a whimper. In fact, most, if not all, of his associates and friends have absolutely no idea where he's from; some believe he might be from Corellia given his profession as a smuggler and the planet's ties to some of the most famous scoundrels in the galaxy's history while others point to Coruscant due to the twenty-seven-year-old's slightly mangled Coruscanti accent. If you ask Earyn though, he'll just shrug and go on to the present. He's not one for the past.

    What is known is that Earyn grew up in the 'lower realms of society' on some world in the Core or Mid Rim and was involved in the arguments, scuffles, and drama that comes with being homeless, young, and angry. His parents were drug addicts of a kind and died when Earyn was young, leaving him an orphan but the trio was homeless far before that, their wealth and standing destroyed by the Clone Wars. Earyn resorted to theft and violence to survive, his education coming in the figurative, metaphorical, and literal "school of hard knocks".

    Throughout his teenage years, Earyn took to the stars as with an elderly spacer who had happened upon the young scoundrel attempting to steal wares from a droid repair shop; as a 'punishment' of sorts, the young scoundrel became the spacer's makeshift "apprentice" and learned a variety of skills, such as astrogation, piloting, and starship repair. The affair helped to mellow the young Earyn and created a new personality of sorts that is the 'modern Earyn'.

    As the Clone Wars ended and the Empire took over, Earyn began his own career as a spacer, a scoundrel, and a smuggler.
    Last edited by Corellian_Outrider, Jun 3, 2016
  17. Vasarian Jedi Youngling

    Member Since:
    Aug 7, 2010
    [No tag in this post.]

    [image=[url]http://images3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20051026150328/starwars/images/thumb/5/55/Theoc.jpg/250px-Theoc.jpg]
    [/url]Earyn
    The Blue Eclipse

    Another night, another large crowd of the galaxy's finest scumbags and scoundrels, in a sarcastic sense, at the Blue Eclipse. The finest jizz music, its flowing lyrics taking criticizing shots at the tyranny of the Empire beneath its minor chords, piped out of various speakers throughout the cantina and the patrons bobbed their heads in rhythm unconsciously, some sipping at concoctions of alcohol and who-knew-what. The atmosphere was quite palpable with the unaware euphoric feeling that comes with the consumption of many an alcoholic beverage. The galaxy's finest indeed, indeed.

    Behind the tinkling of glassware, the satirical minor tones, and drunk, joyful atmosphere lay a more sinister and dark business, of a sort - smuggling. The Blue Eclipse was not just known for its chemically laced concoctions that could knock out even the hardiest Gamorrean, but also for its reputation as one of the Outer Rim's most prominent hubs for smuggling, slave trading, and all sorts of dark dealings. It was this rough and tough business that had lured the young reputable smuggler Earyn to its lovely confinements.

    The brown-haired Human male entered in nondescript fashion, his hands tucked into the outer pockets of his dark-brown synthleather coat and his head slightly tucked behind his collar to keep himself in somewhat hidden fashion as he traversed through the bar, ducking and dodging under, over, and around the patrons, their dramatic drunken behavior, and, of course, their alcohol. The firearm at his right hip, a well-polished Bryar pistol, tapped in tempting rhythm against his trousers as he almost was smacked in the head by an overly-enthusiastic Rodian's outstretched right hand, but he just shook his head, rolled his eyes, and continued onward under the dark-green digits.

    He waded through the crowds into the "backroads" of the Blue Eclipse, a much more quiet area with dark-green mood lighting and small two-inhabitant booths; the perfect place for small business deals to go over, and somewhere Earyn had done something like this many times over. He passed an overly romantic couple of Duros, their hands overlapping each other, their eyes staring at each other lovingly, and a chit-chattering duo of a Human and his Bothan friend, whose conversation included audible murmurs of something about a new variant of spice. Earyn glanced at each booth, then spotted his client - a human male - and took a few steps in his direction, standing directly behind him, his right hand producing a small, silver-tinged lighter from the depths of his coat's pockets.

    "You're late." said the scruffy-looking human male, his chiseled hand settled around a glass of some nefarious alcoholic beverage. The other hand, fingers callused from years of labor, rubbed a slender chin that sported a rough, brown-colored beard that covered the lower half of a worn-looking face. His eyes followed Earyn, as the human walked around him and settled in the black-leather seat looking across from him in the small, unnoticed booth.

    Earyn set his feet on the table, shrugging off a nasty look from the bartender, reached into his coat pocket, and produced a slender cigarra. He lit it quickly; the lighter slipped back into one of his many coat pockets, and took a puff, unleashing a few rings of smoke into the air. The slender-chinned, rough-fingered man continued to stare at him, waving off the rings of cigarra smoke with a dramatic gesture of his right hand which ended with the palm of his right hand, pointing toward the ceiling, on the tabletop. "So," he began to ask, "you've got the package?"

    Earyn shrugged nonchalantly, taking another long drag from his cigarra. His arms crossed his chest, the cigarra tucked into the upper corner of his mouth, lips sealed tightly around the rolled-up paper. He did not answer, on purpose, instead waiting. The slender-chinned man pulled his hand back in and it slid down back onto the seat, his beady, black eyes narrowing in obvious anger. His left hand stayed grasped tightly around his drink, but Earyn could notice the application of a bit more pressure to the surface of the glass.

    "You think you can just show up late," the slender-chinned man began, his tone angry, "and without what I asked for you to pick up for me? It couldn't have been that hard. Your reputation precedes you, Earyn, but perhaps it is not well deserved. I believe you owe me some money, all two- hundred thousand credits of it, which I generously paid up front." His left hand left his glass and extended across the table, palm open toward the ceiling.

    Earyn took another long drag, looking down at the open palm then back up at the slender-chinned man. His right hand reached up to grab the cigarra and he unleashed the smoke into the air, head cocked upwards a bit before answering, "With all due respect, Mister Kant, my reputation does precede me and it is well deserved, well deserved indeed," Earyn continued, his right hand placing a well-polished Bryar pistol on the table, his fingers tapping the dark-brown wood of the handgrip in a time with the music, "but my reputation was and is built upon working with clients who decide to give me the whole story."

    Kant, the slender-chinned man, looked taken aback at this, leaning back in the booth. His form began to tremble slightly with what Earyn suspected was a bit of anger, but he took a deep breath in - apparently to compose himself - and leaned forward, his hands placed together in somewhat inquisitive fashion, elbows on the table. "What ever could you mean by that?" He asked with an obviously false innocent tone.

    Now, Earyn was annoyed but he kept his cool. He merely smiled, a facade, and shook his head, a small chuckle escaping cold, pale lips. He raised his left hand, as though demonstrating something, and showed Kant the obvious - a well-bandaged stump where his ring finger should have been. A small blotch of crimson-tinged blood suggested the wound was still quite fresh. The slender-chinned man's eyes widened as though he were registering something for the first time, a mistake of some sort.

    "If I remember correctly, Mister Kant," the smuggler began, his smile swiftly turning into a frown and his tone becoming more menacing by the word, "one of my provisions for any pick-up, delivery, or drop-off deal is that there should be no sort of conflict when I arrive to either pick up, deliver, or drop off the item and, or, cargo in question. Unfortunately, some others of my smuggling ilk decided to show their faces at the same time."

    The slender-chinned Kant's right hand began to circle over and over around his left wrist in nervous fashion, which had begun to degenerate across the table; it was near the edge now. Earyn could tell that he was probably trying to grab a weapon or some kind of item to bail him out of this situation, but the smuggler did not care much. He merely stared at his own weapon, the modified Bryar pistol, and then back at Kant as he clicked off the safety with a resounding snap. The snap was just audible enough for some of the surrounding patrons to turn their heads slowly, their looks of jovial drunkenness evaporating into quite a bit of fear.

    "Well," Earyn began smugly, as his right hand lifted itself off of the firearm and back onto the end of the cigarra, which he pulled out slowly with a dramatic ring of smoke issued behind "Well," Earyn began smugly, as his right hand lifted itself off of the firearm and back onto the end of the cigarra, which he pulled out slowly with a dramatic ring of smoke issued behind

    Black Sun.

    Kant's eyes widened like well-crafted Nabooian dinner plates at the sight of the tumbling signet ring and his right hand, which had disappeared under the table, swiftly appeared with a miniature holdout blaster, his index finger wrapped around the trigger and applying more and more pressure by the millisecond, the barrel aimed at Earyn's left shoulder.

    Bang .

    There were screams of terror and surprise from the surrounding patrons, and drinks were flung in the air, glasses shattering against the grated durasteel floor in the span of a few seconds. Kant watched the crimson-colored blaster bolt strike against a overhanging light about ten feet away, and his head quickly jerked to the right and downward to see Earyn sprawled on the floor, on his back, the barrel of the Bryar pistol aimed right at Kant's torso.

    The Black Sun sympathizer sprang out of his seat in the booth, not hearing the curse-filled words of the young smuggler, but instead the sounds of blasterfire - three shots. He crumpled to the floor, screaming in pain, clutching at his leg, which now sported a grisly blaster wound. His shirt was spotted with blood in two areas as well, the results of Earyn's accurate blaster fire. There were more screams of terror, of calls for a medic, of just pure drunken confusion. Kant shifted across the floor, every movement bringing a stinging pain to his leg. He cursed under the breath. Earyn's blaster shot must have hit deeper than the surface wound showcased, a mess of crimson blood and charred skin.

    Earyn's black leather boots resounded against the grated durasteel floor with click after click and he pressed the barrel of his firearm against Kant's left temple, the Black Sun's sympathizer's face contorted in pain and disgust. There was a small whimper as the barrel burrowed a bit deeper into the slender-chinned man's head. "Let this be a lesson, Mister Kant." Earyn whispered, his left hand rising at eye level to showcase his missing ring finger yet again to the Black Sun member. "An eye for an eye. Trust me. If I had lost more than my finger, you would have been sporting more than your three wounds here."

    Earyn released the pistol's hold against the man's temple and slipped the firearm into the bantha-hide holster at his right hip, rising to stand, becoming somewhat aware of the numerous stares in his direction. He looked down at the whimpering, injured Black Sun sympathizer then back up at the crowd, his lips turned upside down in a frown.

    "Smuggling business here, ladies and gentlemen. If you'll return to your drinks, please." He said, his lips spreading into a wide, charismatic smile that seemed to suggest that there was absolutely nothing wrong with this situation and everything was quite normal. In typical fashion, he pulled out another cigarra, lit it with his small lighter, and blew a ring of smoke into the air, his lips still spread into a smile as he stepped over Kant's whimpering, shivering body and out of the Blue Eclipse, leaving an atmosphere of drunken confusion.
    Last edited by Corellian_Outrider, Jun 3, 2016
  18. TheAdmiral Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Mar 28, 2004
    star 4
    OOC:Good, to be back in business :D GM approved...

    [IMG]

    [IMG]

    Name: Dennii/Drakoniss Sunwalker
    --Age: 25/approximately 4000
    ---Gender: Female/Male
    ----Species: Human/Human (ghost)
    -----Eye Color: Crimson

    [IMG]

    ------Hair Color and Style: Long blond/Long White
    -------Skin Complexion: Pale
    --------Clothing: Brown-green Jedi Robes/usually he appears in his ancient armor
    ---------Physique: Slender, not very tall/Muscular
    ----------Personality: naïve, compassionate, always ready to help the ones in need/ sometimes cruel, curious, joker
    -----------Quirks: too emotional/ wants to return to the light side of the Force, sudden emotional outbursts
    ------------Force Sensitive: Yes/Yes

    Personal Ship: None

    Biography
    -Brief History:

    (Drakoniss)

    Born approximately 20 years before the Mandalorian Wars, Drakoniss, whose real name he had deleted from his memory, was discovered that his midichlorians were in enough quantity for being trained as a Jedi so he was brought to Dantooine for training. From early childhood he gave indications for his future downfall towards the dark side. The young Jedi considered himself being above his peers and that he was destined for greatness and power. Another thing that made the Masters cautious with him was his talent for creating powerful Force-Illusions and Mind-Influencing abilities that made his "creations" very vivid and tough to break even for a trained Force-user.

    The young Drakoniss in his early years had only one friend - Loraine - a near-human with striking beauty and pointed ears. In her he found an intellectual equal, even a superior. As years passed they grew very fond of each other and sparks of their shared love flew around them... Drakoniss thought little for his Master and always considered himself above the rest of the Council even though he was still a Padawan. When the Mandalorian War broke out he was knighted. He believed that the Jedi must take a pro-active stance against the threat. Because of his "talent" in creating illusions he was approached by Revan and Malak to aid them in their struggle against the invaders. Soon after that he left the Order to fight in the war. During the parting Loraine revealed to him that she was part of the secret organization within the Jedi Order - the Covenant - her role in it was to collect and catalogue Jedi and Sith artifacts.

    His exploits during the wars are kept a secret and the darkness within him was growing by every battle he fought. When Darth Revan was ready to invade the Republic he sent Darth Drakoniss to the Union of the Great Houses to try to recruit them to their cause. He had another task, a secret one, to find the hidden artifacts that Loraine (who had fled during the war to the Union) had brought with her. Drakoniss alongside Malak failed to fulfill the mission and Drakoniss was forced to kill Loraine?

    Drakoniss considered himself a student of Revan so from the start he had forged a bitter rivalry with Malak. As always he underestimated his nemesis and this was his undoing?Somehow he had obtained information for Malak?s future plot to kill Revan but Drakoniss was away with his apprentice and a large detachment of Sith forces on the ice planet of Polus. Where he fought against the Republic armies where he was murdered by his apprentice. Luckily for him he knew the ability to retain his ?self? when dead and not become one with the Force. This permitted him after the battle to take control over the body and the mind of a Republic soldier and secretly managed to get to Korriban. It was too late, Malak had done his deed and Lord Revan was believed to be killed by the Jedi. So as the only person knowing the truth behind Malak?s treachery Drakoniss was once again "killed" and his ghost trapped inside a temple as one of the Sith Masters...

    Nearly 4000 years passed when an archeological team arrived at the site of his burial. The professor and his students were about to leave the planet when one of the pupil accidentally opened a sarcophagus with the inscription – Darth Drakoniss the Illusion-maker. He found only a dusty old skeleton and didn’t notice that a shadow was moving. Suddenly the student lost his consciousness for a few more moments... But he was not his “self”; his place was taken by Darth Drakoniss.

    The Sith managed to keep a low profile for some years until the Jedi Order found out that he was back with the living. So Master Yoda sent the Jedi Knight called Eddard Dondarion (who will later be known as the Lightbringer) and his Padawan learner – Adrias Stark. They both managed to track Drakoniss’ ship in orbit of the planet Dagobah. In a fierce battle he was defeated and his spirit was doomed to dwell until he met a very interesting girl whose name is Dennii Sunwalker. Somehow he knew their fates will be intertwined…

    (Dennii Sunwalker)

    Born on Naboo in the family of teachers, she was discovered by the Jedi Master known back then as the Lightbringer or Eddard Dondarion. The Jedi brought her to Coruscant for training. She didn’t have an exceptional childhood. Due to her natural kindness she made a lot of friends within the ranks of the Padawans and Younglings. Her talents were considered mediocre and she was about to be sent to the agricultural squads as no Master chose her to be their apprentice. Luckily for her Master Dondarion came and took her as his Padawan learner.

    So this way started her training as a Jedi. Her Master took her to various planets to solve diplomatic disputes and problems. They both spent a lot of time in the Union of the Great Houses where she befriended the future heir of the leading house – Jori Atreides. Both girls became like sisters. Little did Dennii know that there was something dark and sinister behind the pretty face of Jori…

    Years passed and the Clone Wars begun, Dennii and her Master resumed their roles as mediators and managed to convince a lot of planets to remain within the Republic. She saw not many battles during the war. The most notable conflict in which she was involved was when the CIS invaded the Union of the Great Houses. Dennii and her Master took part in the defense of the capitol planet of Kaladan. The Separatist forces managed to break through the defendants’ lines and General Grievous himself entered the castle of the duke. Dennii and Eddard Dondarion took the duke and his daughter Jori towards the hangar when the cyborg General attacked. Her Master remained to hold him off. It was then when Dennii believed that Master Dondarion was dead. The Republic was victorious as reinforcements arrived and drove the CIS away. Dennii was recalled back to the Jedi Temple for meditation, they feared that this loss could drive her to the dark side due to her being more emotional.

    She spent the last months of the War in the Temple helping others. When Coruscant was under attack Dennii assisted the Republic Forces to drive the droids away. At the point when she accepted the harsh reality that her Master is no more the Temple was attacked by not other but Anakin Skywalker. When she felt the deaths of the Jedi within she utilized the trick that her Master had taught her – she disappeared in the Force and hid in her dormitory and pretended to be dead. She was later discovered by an unlikely ally – a Clone – more precisely an ARC Trooper. Later she understood that the man was a Commander from the SpecialOps and had disobeyed Order 66. He hid her in his quarters – a place where no-one was going to look for a Jedi. While on Coruscant she met other fellow survivors – Aayla Secura and Anaron Nexon with whom she fled to Kashyyk. On the homeworld of Wookies their group was joined by Master Ki-Adi Mundi and Lohr Thal. When Alpha and some of his men arrived on Kashyyk the joint-Jedi and Clone group moved to Kamino to meet with Master Yoda and some of the surviving Younglings.

    While on Kamino Dennii became Master Mundi’s new apprentice. He started instructing her in the ways of the Force Healing. A dramatic moment for both Dennii and Alpha was the discovery of the hidden “Temple” by Vader. It was the moment of the death of Ki-Adi Mundi and Lohr Thal and of the 30 clones under Alpha’s command. The surviving Jedi fled to Ossuss, it was where Alpha realized, with her help, that he was no more a Clone but a person with his own dreams and views. Dennii found a Master who could teach her in the art of Force Healing - Geordie Kilderney. Afterwards Sunwalker and Alpha accompanied the Jedi on a mission in the Ursa system, where Alpha was severely injured by Vader, on this mission she played mainly a supportive role – healing injuries, etc.

    After the mission the Jedi had to move again – this time to the distant planet Degobah. It was there where she conceived a child by Alpha (the existence of whom she will learn later). Alpha had to leave as he was called by General Grievous for a meeting. While on Degobah Dennii started experiencing strange moments – she was hearing a whisper calling her. It was the ghost of Darth Drakoniss. They fought a short battle and Dennii was assisted by Geordie, Fei’Ona and Aayla but Sunwalker lost the battle so the ghost tried to take over her body and mind but something unexpected happened the Padawan somehow managed to split the spirit in two parts. For several days she was like “drugged” and could not tell the difference between reality and visions. She was able to defeat the darkness within her and for her astonishment the part of Drakoniss who wanted to redeem himself. She recovered when the encampment was attacked by giant spiders and the Order was forced to flee again. Dennii lost another Master, but was reassigned to Jorus C’baoth. She was to move with the part of the Order that was going to Ryloth…

    On Ryloth Dennii was sent on a recon mission with a fellow Padawan – Irisa. They were to track some disappeared slaves and investigate a destroyed warehouse. It was the first test for Dennii for humility because despite being older and more experienced the younger Padawan was made a team-leader. During their investigation Dennii/Drakoniss made contact with the Sith’s former Master – Darth Revan and asking forgiveness. It was then when Dennii understood that Alpha had rejoined the Empire. During the adventure on Ryloth she fought Zuckuss, 4-LOM and Aurra Sing. Afterwards Dennii discovered that she was pregnant. When she rejoined the rest of the Order on-board the Interdictor cruiser another blow was dealt to her... when her dear friends Fei’Ona and Aayla Secura were killed. Later she was tested by her Master – C’baoth who decided she was ready to become a Knight, but Master Hett did not agree on that issue. Feeling offended by this Dennii in an impulsive act left the Order and went to visit her dear friend – the duchess Atreides. It was there when she discovered that her first Master was alive and learned of the demise of the old duke Leto. Later she accompanied her friend on her journey posing as her assistant. Jori though decided not to take her to Coruscant fearing that Vader might arrest Dennii as she is a Jedi fugitive, so Sunwalker remained with Admiral Fandorin on-board the Galactica- class Carrier “Hyperion”…

    --Military History: Drakoniss: fought in numerous battles during the Mandalorian Wars; Dennii: fought in several battles during the Clone Wars
    ---Traumatic Experiences: Drakoniss: when had to kill his lover – Loraine; experiencing death several times; Dennii: the deaths of her Masters, the destruction of the Order, Alpha’s betrayal.

    -Lightsaber Blade Color: Silver
    --Lightsaber Type: Single
    ---Hilt Description: Curved (like Dooku’s)

    IC: Dennii/Drakoniss, Admiral Fandorin, duchess Jori Atreides (vision of the past), truthsayer sister Alia (vision of the past), duke Leto III Atreides (vision of the past), Lord Advisor Eddard Dondarion “the Lightbringer” (vision of the past)
    On-board Glactica-class Carrier “Hyperion”, Derra System; Castle Kaladan, Kala City, Kaldan (vision of the past)

    Dennii felt confused; there was a surge of conflicting emotions that she could not contain. She was both relieved for leaving the Order and ashamed for doing so, as if she had betrayed them. There was no turning back for her though, as for sure the rest believed that Drakoniss – the deceased ancient Sith Lord that resided in her mind had finally taken over her. Dennii wished for the rest to be able to see what she had seen in Drakoniss’ soul so that they could understand him better. They viewed the Universe only in black and white, so fixated with their rigid beliefs that a Sith could not ever seek redemption willingly. That is what frustrated her and the Order’s lack of confidence in her abilities, as if she was weak willed. At least now she was with a friend – duchess Jori Atreides of the Union of the Great Houses.

    Dennii wished that she could have came back earlier, maybe she would have been able to prevent the death of her friend’s father – duke Leto III Atreides. Maybe also could have been able to help her first Master – the Lightbringer or as from what she understood was now known as the Truthsayer. The recent revelation that he was originally the last heir of a once banished House of the Union – the Dondarions was a shock. She knew his original name, but he seemed to avoid using it while in the Union for no apparent reason. Dennii was not sure whether he knew that he was the heir of that House, either way she will have to ask him when they meet again, if this ever happens. Since the battle of Kaladan and that duel with General Grievous during the Clone Wars they were separated and she believed him dead. The Force works in a mysterious ways, the Jedi had to admit it.

    Dennii wished that she could have came back earlier, maybe she would have been able to prevent the death of her friend’s father – duke Leto III Atreides. Maybe also could have been able to help her first Master – the Lightbringer or as from what she understood was now known as the Truthsayer. The recent revelation that he was originally the last heir of a once banished House of the Union – the Dondarions was a shock. She knew his original name, but he seemed to avoid using it while in the Union for no apparent reason. Dennii was not sure whether he knew that he was the heir of that House, either way she will have to ask him when they meet again, if this ever happens. Since the battle of Kaladan and that duel with General Grievous during the Clone Wars they were separated and she believed him dead. The Force works in a mysterious ways, the Jedi had to admit it.

    It was then when she realized that she was still walking with Admiral Fandorin back from the hangar when they said goodbye to the duchess and the representatives of the ruling council. The man had said something that she missed. Dennii made an apologetic expression on her face.

    “I am sorry, Erast, you were saying?”

    Admiral Fandorin was a friend of her during her teenage years while he was Jori’s “boyfriend” until her father decided to intervene. After all Jori at that point was the princess of the House Supreme and Erast...well, he was no-one. The son of a wealthy businessman that aspired for a place in the Landsraad or the Ordo Administratum – simply put “The Union Senate”. Only the few privileged had a position to dictate the future of the Union and to deal with the Outsiders.

    Fandorin chuckled.

    “My, dear Dennii you seem more distracted than the last time I saw you. Anyway I was saying that I hope for Jori to succeed in her mission and come back to us in one piece.”

    Dennii gave a tired smile.

    “Me too, Erast, me too…”

    She needed to meditate, to clear her mind. The child she was carrying in her was not making things easier either. ‘Drakoniss, what is going on? Why are you so silent, so suddenly?’ Laughter followed in her mind – male one. ‘I knew you would miss my company, eventually ...’ Dennii concealed her smile, as she was the only one could hear the spirit, or see him. After all she didn’t want the rest to think that she was crazy. ‘Don’t overestimate your worth as a companion…’

    Dennii could feel that Drakoniss was the only one present to be in a good mood. ‘Well, well the little girl learned to bite back.’ The Jedi pretended to be offended, at least in her mind ‘I am not a little girl!’ She could almost feel him grin ‘Well when you are over 4000 years old, suddenly a lot of people start to be young compared to me. Even Yoda is a just a boy to me...well a little short, wrinkled and green, but still...’ Dennii hardly Dennii could feel that Drakoniss was the only one present to be in a good mood. ‘Well, well the little girl learned to bite back.’ The Jedi pretended to be offended, at least in her mind ‘I am not a little girl!’ She could almost feel him grin ‘Well when you are over 4000 years old, suddenly a lot of people start to be young compared to me. Even Yoda is a just a boy to me...well a little short, wrinkled and green, but still...’ Dennii hardly

    ‘As you wish...’ and just like that the voice disappeared, leaving her alone...again. It was a bit of a comforting thought, to know that there was someone actually who she could talk to, someone different from her. After Alpha left, there was a void in her life and after the duel with Drakoniss when a part of his soul was imprinted in hers and they became one. It was then when the Order stopped trusting her, tried to isolate her... No, it was not the time for such thoughts. She was too subjective, besides she was still a servant of the Force and will try to protect the light but probably with different means. Dennii believed that her place is in the Union, not running around fighting the Empire. This was too large a task for her, maybe if fixing the inner darkness of the Union she will be able to make a difference in the overall scheme of things.

    “Um, Erast, I think I will go back to my room, I feel tired from all these emotions and stuff. Please call me if you need me.”

    The Admiral nodded and smiled.

    “Of course, my dear. Unfortunately I am not allowed to rest...not right now when there are so many Outsider forces surrounding us…”

    “Good luck with that…”

    Then she turned left in the next corridor and headed towards her designated room. Crew members respectfully saluted her, even knowing that Dennii was an Outsider but the privilege of being Her Ultimacy’s best friend had its own perks and benefits. Not that she cared that much, at least her life was safe on-board the Union ship , probably safer than the outside galaxy. Dennii longed to change her attire – as she was wearing that commissar uniform for several hours now and she wanted something softer and more comfortable. As the Jedi entered her room, she saw several sets of dresses on her room, Dennii smiled, as probably it was Jori’s doing. One of the dresses to her amazement was a Bene Gesserit one. She could not mistake it, as it was black and had a black cloak with yellow in the inside and fluff on the hood and the end of the sleeves and a pair of also black gloves that covered her arms to the elbow. Her dark green and brown robes were also on the bed freshly cleaned, so Dennii decided to keep the tradition and wear them while meditating.

    After doing so, she sat on the bed crosslegged and closed her crimson eyes. Dennii entered the meditative state quite quickly. Her mind was dragged away by a powerful force. As if she was moving in hyperspace, everything was distorted and flying by with great speed. Suddenly it stopped and she was standing right in the middle of a room, a quite familiar one as well... They were on Kaladan...in Jori’s room some 15 or some years ago...judging by the three little girls sitting around a round table with small tea cups. Drakoniss appeared beside her ‘I think this is some sort of vision...I think the Force wishes to show you something. But why choosing a moment from your childhood?’

    It was all strange seeing herself as a little 10 year old girl wearing a small dress. At that point she was used to wear Union clothing, not to attract too much attention for being different. The room was full of stuffed animals and dolls in all sizes and shapes. Alia was also present, she was... 7...from what she could remember and Jori was 12 years old. Now she remembered, it was when Alia had to leave to become a Bene Gesserit and Dennii had to go back to the Temple with her Master. ‘But why? Why do I need to see the departure of Alia and mine?’

    She could see the three girls giggling at some insider joke. There were some dolls sitting between them. They were supposed to be their gentlemen for the tea party. This didn’t make any sense to her, unless it had to do something with the incident that happened. She observed Jori, the little princess, at that point her mother was still alive, so her little soul was not yet burdened by the loss of her parent. It was amazing how people change over time, how pure they were as children. No plotting, no backstabbing, no hidden agendas, no Empires, no Rebellion...nothing. Even then, Jori seemed to like commanding people, she was a born leader. Alia on the other hand was submissive and from what Dennii could see ashamed and a bit afraid about her future, at that point she doubted that the little girl realized it.

    It was then when Jori suddenly jumped from her seat and ran towards the door. Stopping at the frame she motioned her friends to follow her. The two other girls stood up and ran with her friend. Dennii and Drakoniss silently floated behind them, she knew where they were going. Jarvis, the butler, saw them too and the direction they were going. He used his commlink to contact someone. The three girls were running and giggling through the corridors, passing by numerous portraits and statues. Some maids retreated towards the edges of the corridor to let the young mistress and her friends to pass. They reached a narrow staircase, they were all sweaty from the effort and couldn’t take a deep breath but were grinning still. Jori looked around to check out whether they were being followed. After that they started climbing the stairs towards a simple wooden door. It was the aviary where the two-headed eagle Kaysor was kept. This type of birds was almost extinct on Kaladan but for a few, one of which was kept in the Castle as the symbol of the House Atreides.

    At that time Dennii didn’t know why Jori brought them there, this fact remained unchanged since then. Probably the Force wanted to show her something? The three girls entered the aviary, the other birds were chirping or flying around in their cages. There was one, bigger, in the center of the room – Kaysor’s, Jori moved towards it and as she reached it extended her arm through the bars. This was something unwise, as those birds were considered dangerous to people, especially while imprisoned. They were proud creatures, some argued that they were quite intelligent and able to comprehend what is going on. They were also a curious species as they seemed to have a faint connection to the Force that enabled them to read one’s aura and understand what that person wants to do with him.

    Just as the bird approached the extended arm the door opened and the duke and Dennii’s Master entered the room. They were flushed as they seemed to have come in a hurry. She could see them almost gasping in horror as they saw the Eagle approaching Jori. What shocked them the most was the fact that it actually lowered his heads as if bowing to her, so that she could touch it. This didn’t make things clear, why the Force showed this to her? As the little girl touched the head of the beast, the vision suddenly blurred and disappeared.

    Jori opened her crimson eyes, she was even more confused than in the beginning. Certainly this must have some meaning. The solution to this enigma eluded her, probably her Master will know about this. There was no time for this now though. The Jedi stood up slowly and got undressed, she wanted to take a shower first, maybe the things will get clearer in the mean time…

    “But why...?” she whispered just as she turned on the warm water.

    TAG: No-one at the moment
    Last edited by Corellian_Outrider, Jun 3, 2016
  19. Sith-I-5 Jedi Grand Master

    Member Since:
    Aug 14, 2002
    star 6
    OOC: Climate of planet created, after research drew a blank

    IC: Devon Robie (SGIS), Haven bridge.
    Location: Ylix star system

    The planet Ylix threw a baleful sandy light into the space surrounding it, courtesy of the arid, desert terrain that made up most of the surface.

    Within the star system of the same name, but hopefully out of range of the most powerful telescopes that the planet had to hand, sat a bright grey-white sliver of metal, the six-hundred metre long, three-hundred metre wide, one-hundred metre high, seventeen deck Interdictor-class heavy cruiser, Haven.

    [IMG]

    Formerly, the Charlotte?s Web of the Imperial Navy, this vessel was firmly in the hands of the jedi.

    Looking round the majestic vessel from the outside, her sleek lines were broken in two places.
    First, one of the four gravity-well projecting metal spheres was cracked open on the upper dome like a spent and charred-black eggshell.
    Second, a large black craft, the Bantha-class assault shuttle, The Fluffy, sat nestled against the back of the Haven?s command tower.

    [IMG]

    'Fluffy?s owner, the Secret Galactic Intelligence Service? agent, Devon Robie, sat alone at the Communications Station on Haven?s darkened five-seat bridge, where he had been relaying a just-received Imperial broadcast to his supervisor aboard the SGIS Base Ship on the other side of the galaxy.

    SGIS had been a primo security agency for the Galactic Republic, notorious for it?s practice of employing convicted criminals under licence, as well as military and law enforcement personnel, as well as jedi.

    Devon himself, had been a particularly successful starship thief before his arrest, incarceration, and work for SGIS in lieu of continued prison time.

    The coup that had brought in the Empire, had seen the agency mostly absorbed into Imperial Intelligence, their personnel subject to mass arrest and interrogation for their ties with the Jedi Order, leaving just a handful of surprised but lucky operatives to hyper-ventilate into paper bags, and wonder what the frell they were supposed to do next!
    There clearly were not enough of them to populate a decent-sized tapcaf, let alone act as a credible intelligence network, so SGIS had dedicated itself to protecting the Jedi where it could, and opposing the Empire.

    Robie himself, could have left any time, but had stayed around to help rebuild it. Procuring, well, yes, stealing, ships and equipment to replenish the Service, eventually earning his place as an SGIS agent.

    He had recently raced to the source of a jedi locator beacon in the desolate Gricho Sector, and plucked Knight Johmer Evanson from his stranded Techno Union snubfighter, minutes ahead of an Imperial taskforce.

    "What have we here?" A gruff voice boomed from the doorway several metres to Devon?s rear.

    "Gotta go, Lim. Talk later." The rodian killed the long-range connection, and swivelled his chair to face the white-bearded jedi master, silhouetted against the light from the corridor.

    Behind him, the image of the diminutive, pig-tailed young woman in white short-sleeved uniform frock, with a red SGIS logo over her breast, dissolved to black.
    Lim, or the Angeo Lim that he had been talking to, and accepted as the de facto head of the Service, was one of several identical, highly-advanced synthetic droids dotted around the galaxy, each one maintaining an SGIS base, outpost or asset.
    Some of those bases were in now Imperial Intelligence hands, unaware of the potential traitor in their midst; some still with SGIS; some disused, abandoned, and barely ticking over.

    "Hello. Master C?Boath, isn't it?" Devon did not stand on ceremony. The rodian wore a pale blue one-piece shipsuit, with a sleeveless brown synthleather jacket, that some people called a vest. At his right hip, a low-slung holster held his blaster pistol. "Pleased to meet you, Sir. Agent Devon Robie, SGIS.

    Tag: Master C’Boath
    Last edited by Corellian_Outrider, Jun 3, 2016
  20. pashatemur Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Jun 21, 2004
    star 4
    [IMG]


    Name: Master Jedi, Emi-to Shuri
    --Age: 30
    ---Gender: Female
    ----Species: human
    -----Eye Color: Turquoise
    ------Hair Color and Style: Strawberry blond, long straight and usually worn in a single braid or in a chignon.
    -------Skin Complexion: Fair with freckles
    --------Clothing: Light Jedi Robes, cloak of light ochre
    ---------Physique: Tall, willowy.
    ----------Personality: Genuine, yet reserved belying her passionate nature, elegant, quick witted, and contemplative.
    -----------Quirks: aloof and cool
    ------------Force Sensitive: Yes



    Biography: Born in the northern suburbs of Corsuscant, she was taken by her parents to the Jedi Temple at the age of 5. She seemed remote and unhappy with other children, who tended to make fun of her, and her parents concerned for her happiness and the fact that they felt ill equipped to handle her Force Sensitivity thought it best to bring her to the Temple.

    Her Master was the great Jedi swordsman, Jedi Master Jard Dooku. They were well matched. Her natural elegance and reserve suited the Master?s vanity, yet he was also jealous and when the young Emi developed a friendship with Eme ma Himou, he did everything possible to dissuade and interfere. In the end, when her Master became difficult and unkind, he tried unsuccessfully to take Emi with him. Confronting her Master, she fought him alone. He nearly killed her, but for an unknown reason refrained from a killing blow, leaving Emi mortally wounded to die.

    She recovered though, and when the night of the massacre came, she faced Anakin Skywalker and was barely holding her own till several other Jedi intervened. ?Run, Emi, they shouted, and to her shame, she did, looking back, she thought she saw in Skywalker?s eyes the same command.

    Living underground and joining a clandestine group of rebels, believing her Jedi Order dead and extinct, she helped serve as a liaison to Senators who were favorable towards a resistance. Then she met Commander Torian Darkeyes, an ARR pilot trapped on Coruscant. They fell passionately in love and together with the help of Senator?s Bail Organa and Mon Mothma, the lovers escaped, further aided by Eme ma Himou.

    Confronting Emi on Ladarra, Eme caused Emi to come to terms with her duty and she and Torian decided that to serve, they must leave each other?s company. Sick of heart, Emi traveled to Dagobah to live amongst the Jedi. Yet, she no longer felt she could live in their midst. After hearing the words of the Seer, Fei?ona, Emi is drawn off from the Order encampment to live at a great distance in self-imposed exile, sheltered under a mysterious tree. There she gives birth to Torian?s son.

    When the Jedi found it necessary to leave Dagoba due to a sudden resurgence of the dark culminating in a harrowing battle with the spider roots, Yoda called upon Master Shuri to take a scion of the Jedi, comprised mostly of younglings and Padawans to the Alliance base on Yavin IV. They left the newly commandeered and nearly abandoned Imperial immobilizer Master Yoda renamed "Haven" shortly after there narrow escape from Imperials on Ryloth. It was thought best to divide themselves to preserve the Jedi should they be betrayed or found. Her friend Obi wan approached Master Shuri with a proposal to take the son of his former Padawan as his new Padawan and to split seek seclusion and going into hiding for the benefit of the precocious youngling. Obi wan, having confessed his attachment and concerns for Shuri, unsettled Emi, who now is considering the efficacy some of the Orders hallmark tenets.

    The Master of Forms finds herself in a very strange position as wife of the military leader of the Alliance and Grand Master to the Yavin Jedi. Balancing the world of hearth and that of the Order is not an easy load.

    ---Traumatic Experiences: Being left at the Temple by her parents and the taunts and rough treatment of other children in her youth, her forsaken love for Eme ma Himou, the loss and fight with her Master, and the separation from her child’s father and her great love, Torian.

    Affiliation: Jedi
    Lightsaber Blade Color: Blue
    Lightsaber Type: Single blade
    Hilt Description: Silver Chromed curved, inlaid with gold - simple, efficient and ergonomic in design.


    IC: Emi-to Shuri
    LOCATION: mess hall, Alliance Base Yavin IV


    Emi had wrapped her hands around the cool earthen cup, appreciating the smooth glaze and the condensation on the exterior.

    A moment of remonstration as she reviewed the excursion they’d only recently made to find some marooned men including her husband. She was mending well enough from the acidic secretion the aggressive plant life had exuded on that strange planet, but Torian endured a more harrowing and prolonged exposure and she observed him as he and Achilles had their fun. The Dr. Romanov had given him a hard enough time, she thought with a smile. Normally, the General did not take direction to relax very well, but this time, he’d had no choice but to comply.

    Now, however the smile dissolved as she realized Achilles was having his fun at the Sergeant’s expense and his father was encouraging him! She was about to comment when with a clatter and shouts, the neighboring table erupted into a fight.


    As Torian "flew" over the table, Emi smiled wanly at the Sergeant, having now deduced what had so amused father and son during diner.

    A pool of serenity surrounded the Jedi Grand Master and her son, the Sergeant included by proximity, standing to attention and likely ready to make himself available should the General need him.

    Feeling uncommonly at ease, though stuffed, he could not help but smile even as the outbursts were being collared in Torian's large “mitts.” The scuffle and noise did not, however break Master Shuri’s calm.

    “I think you could help out with the younglings, Hill, during meals now you’re old enough to engineer a prank! You are the jura of your father’s eye, and I am quite beguiled myself, but,” said Emi ducking to avoid the wild and misdirected swing of an elbow, her subtle and calm instruction uninterrupted.

    “All done them?” she asked offering her hand her youngling.

    Achilles smiled sheepishly, feeling something had transpired that affected him, but being 5, he was not certain what that was.

    The Master nodded to the table. “I think we’d better clean our mess,” but the table was topple just as Torian collared the pugilists, disentangling one from the table as he stood them up short.

    Hill and Master Shuri stood with the toppled table between them.
    
    Hill suppressed a smirk as he looked up at the Grand Master.

    Her eyes meeting those of her son, Emi’s lips curled up as she suppressed a laugh.

    “Well...that takes care of that!” said Emi, brushing her robes of cubed and roasted tuber.
    Hill on the other hand was covered head to toe with vegetables.

    "You may not like them, but vegetables certainly like you," said Emi kneeling to brush Hills surprised face clean.

    The plight of the combatants did not escape Emi’s notice, though, and she rose to look over her shoulder to the General and then blinking, she turned pensive as an attendant brought a cloth to the little Jedi.

    Emi thanked the young man on Hill’s behalf and rose to regard her husband as he dealt with the situation.

    She regarded the tall man that was her husband: a broad shouldered man, as scarred as he was muscled. Every fiber, every nerve on the General was held like a trigger, poised for action, the set of his jaw indicative Torian shared the same impatience to be up and doing as his soldiers.

    There were no meditations, no persistent, conscious, and primary calls to exercise one’s mindfulness over the resident dark or the dark in general for these soldiers as there were for the Jedi. Some were sensitive amongst them, others less so, but they did not know they responded to the peculiar and latent draw of the dark seated in Yavin’s 4th moon.

    There were days Emi struggled with the decision to split from the Jedi who remained with Master Yoda on “Haven”. The Temple in which the Jedi had taken up residence was an old Sith Zigurat. Daily, there were some hi-jinks or other that would try the patience of Great Masters. Even the indigenous creatures seemed compelled to perpetrate myriad little pranks as the Jedi made the stone edifice habitable.

    Emi had to devise mandatory play, so busy where they. Yet, she was not beyond understanding the difficulty of living by the “blade,” of always being perched on the edge of readiness. She looked sympathetically to the combatants, thinking, however, their discipline needed testing. Torian had his hands full, but, smiling, she knew his men did too!

    TAG: Torian, Achilles and those in the mess
    Last edited by Corellian_Outrider, Jun 3, 2016
  21. HanSolo29 Manager Emeritus + Official Star Wars Artist

    Member Since:
    Apr 13, 2001
    star 6
    Name: Han Solo
    [IMG]
    -Age: 18
    --Gender: Male
    ---Species: Human
    ----Eye Color: Hazel
    -----Hair Color and Style: unkempt, medium length brown hair
    ------Skin Complexion: Fair
    -------Clothing: Gray jacket over top of a white, tattered shirt with khaki cargo pants and black spacer's boots; an equipment belt hangs at his waist with a sheathed vibroblade attached to its side
    --------Physique: lanky and average height
    ---------Personality: cocky, tends to look out only for self, but underneath the hard exterior, Han is really a loyal and caring individual
    ----------Quirks: very arrogant and is often described as a "smart alec."
    Force Sensitive: No
    Biography:
    -Brief History: Han Solo lived the life of a slave aboard the freighter, "Trader's Luck," under the hand of the notorious Garris Shrike, who used his child slaves to do his dirty work for him. Han was doomed to live this miserable life until he was rescued by the Jedi Quinlan Vos and his crew. Vos took young Solo under his wing and taught the boy about survival and how to handle himself in the galaxy. Showing an early interest in the stars and piloting, Han soon parted ways with Vos and found himself in the company of Anakin Skywalker himself, living with the Re and his family and occasionally being assigned to the Executor itself until being shipped off to attend the Imperial Academy at Carida.

    However, after the Empire?s triumph at Kalee, Han found himself on Coruscant and in the chaos after the Senate bombing, he found his natural curiosity and wanderlust taking him on an adventure of his own.
    --Military History: None
    ---Traumatic Experiences: living as a street urchin as a child on Corellia


    IC: Han Solo
    Tapcafe, Senate District, Coruscant

    The only thing Han Solo was acutely aware of was the steady pounding of his heart within his chest. It was a clear indication of his fear and as it thumped loudly within his ears, he couldn't help but wonder if others could also hear and in return, become privy to that very fear. Showing that fear was a weakness and he didn't come all this way to simply throw his freedom away due to his undisciplined reaction toward childhood fantasies. After all, Garris Shrike was a childhood fantasy - a true monster of a man who had returned to wreck havoc on his life once more.

    He had been waiting for him, stalking in the shadows for just the right moment for Han to expose himself. When that moment had finally arrived, he did not hesitate and came up from behind with the business end of a blaster shoved into the small of his back. Han's mistake was giving into the fear and allowing it to control his actions. He stood frozen in place as Shrike did all the talking. This put him in a very vulnerable situation and opened up the door for Shrike to gain the upper hand and ultimately lead him away through the streets of Coruscant until they arrived within a section of town that was more attuned with scum Shrike was used to dealing with.

    Han grimaced at the profane messages etched and graffitied onto building surfaces and the feeling of neglect that permeated the whole area. This was definitely a part of Coruscant no one wished to see and judging by the looks that the denizens that populated this area were aiming at them, they didn't wish for them to see it either. This was dangerous territory and he had a feeling it was only going to get worse.

    In fact, it did get worse.

    The rain started to fall as they approached a rather quaint looking cafe nestled within the shadows of two much taller buildings. But as they drew closer and ultimately crossed the threshold, it didn't take long for Han to realize that it was far from a charming place to eat or socialize. The entire place reeked of a mixture of smoke from various kinds of intoxicants and old cooking oil that hadn't been cycled through for years. To make matters worse, it also appeared to be the main hangout for thieves and drunkards on this side of Coruscant. There was hardly a welcoming face in sight.

    "Hope you like good, ole fashioned cookin'," Shrike quipped with a sneer as he shoved Han into a booth near the back of the establishment. "I grew up on this stuff. Too bad you had to run out on me before you could truly appreciate the good life." He chuckled a bit, a brief reprise before his expression grew serious once more. Han sat in silence, hands clamped down on his thighs as he glared at the man under lowered brow. "Tell me, boy, how has life...really been treating you since leaving the nest? You happy? 'Cause you sure don't look happy…"

    Han's jaw clenched and he found his voice in a harsh whisper. "How would you know if I'm happy?" he sneered, his gaze unwavering. "You've never experienced it for yourself…"

    The anger behind the steely blue eyes that glared back of him was evident, but somehow, Shrike managed to swallow his pride for the time being and merely smirked. "I see you haven't lost that sharp wit of yours."

    Now it was Han's turn to return the smirk. "I try," he replied coolly, adopting a more relaxed position on his side of the booth. He found that the more words he exchanged with the other man, the more confidence he was able to muster. Perhaps this wouldn't turn out half bad after all.

    "Unfortunately, boy, I haven't gone through all that trouble of tracking you down only to catch up on some old times, as I'm sure you're quite aware of," he continued slyly, trying to appear sympathetic as he finally eased his way into the booth across from Han. He made a point to keep the hand that was brandishing the blaster clearly within Han's line of sight. "I have business to conduct."

    Han narrowed his eyes curiously. He didn't like where this was going. "And that involves me?"

    There was that slight quirk of the lip again - an indication that Shrike was enjoying this way too much. "Damn straight it involves you!" he rumbled, drawing the stares from quite a few of the patrons at neighboring tables. "Do you think I'm stupid, boy?"

    Han wanted to answer that question desperately with real honesty, but decided against it. Shrike was a man that you didn't want to mess with - one false move and he would unleash his full fury. As a child, that involved severe beatings to the point where he could hardly move the next morning. Han didn't even want to begin to imagine what he would do to him now that he was no longer considered a child. To play it safe, he diverted his gaze away from his former guardian and shook his head in the negative.

    "Good answer," Shrike said evenly through a genuine smile. Without missing a beat, he flagged down the server with slight wave of his hand and ordered himself a drink. Han took note that he failed to ask if he wanted anything, but maybe that was for the better. The ravenous appetite he had earlier had left him long ago.

    "Now," Shrike began again, all hint of amusement slipping completely from his voice. "I'll cut directly to the chase to save myself time. I'm sure you remember the day that hippy Jedi boarded my ship and took you away from me." An incredulous laugh escaped his mouth as he pounded his curled fist against the table lightly. It was obviously a painful memory and one that would put Han in a very bad situation. "Well, you weren't the only thing he took that day. He took my ship and he took a load of precious cargo that cost me more credits than I can imagine! And you know how wild my imagination can be..." His expression turned dark as he looked directly at Han. "Do you know what that cargo consisted of, boy?"

    Shifting in his seat, Han refused to look at the older man. The events of the day in question had taken place 3 years ago and with everything that had happened in between that timeframe, it was hard to see those events clearly. He had remembered Quinlan Vos - the hippy Jedi as Shrike referred to him - whisking him away to freedom and the incident with some giant Hutt that had apparently put a stop to some sinister plan Shrike had been putting together. He wasn't clear on the details, but if he had to take a guess, it was a good bet the cargo he was referencing had something to do with the Hutt.

    Apparently Han couldn't think fast enough and the long pause had sent a clear message to Shrike - one that made him more angry. "Time's up, boy." He slammed the table out of frustration, causing Han to jump with surprise, as he reached within the folds of his jacket. "Maybe this will help you remember."

    The object that Shrike produced from his jacket made Han's eyes widen with a new kind of fear. It wasn't the open fear he had felt earlier that rendered him helpless. This was a kind of fear that was fueled by anger - an anger that was sparked by what the object represented for him. It was Sophia's model - the same model he had been toying with when Shrike decided to show up and ruin his evening. Sophia and himself had formed a special bond during his time within the confines of the Imperial Palace and the model starship had been a gift to him upon his departure for the Academy. Despite never reaching his destination, the model represented everything he still wished to become - it represented his future and his freedom and now, Shrike was holding that delicate thing within his calloused hands, threatening to take that all away from him.

    A twisted smile formed at the corner of Shrike's wide lips. "Well, well," he cooed in a taunting manner. "Will you look at that - I finally managed to render Han Solo speechless. Never thought I'd see the day. Here, let me help you loosen your lips." Placing the model on the table directly in front of him, he took one corner of a wing tip between thumb and forefinger and pulled upward. The sound of the cracking wood seemed to echo throughout the entire establishment, even drowning out the noisy din of conversation around them. And yet, even when the wing snapped free from the base, Han remained silent, still harboring his anger...allowing it to kindle and grow within him.

    Cocking his head to the side at Han's failure to react, Shrike looked genuinely impressed. But it only lasted a minute. "The strong and silent type, huh?" he continued his taunting, reaching under the table to produce a pocket knife from his belt. Han's mouth quirked slightly at the appearance of the knife. It was all he needed to give him the perfect idea. "That doesn't fit you at all, boy. Snap out of it!"

    Raising his arm in the air, the blade of the knife glinting menacingly off of the dim lights with the movement, Shrike started to bring his hand down upon the model with the blade pointing down. That's when Han jumped forward, not wanting to see the model wasted, but also deciding to play along to see what exactly Shrike was up to. "W-wait!" he shouted, glancing around with a bit of embarrassment as his voice carried awkwardly across the room. "I--I dunno. I don't know what cargo you're...talking about."

    Satisfaction was etched all over Shrike's face as he retracted the blade and lowered his hand slowly to the table. As far as he was concerned, his tactic had worked. Glancing around to make sure no one was zeroed in on their conversation, Shrike revealed the truth. "Slaves," he uttered in a low tone, that twisted smile overtaking his features once more. "They were slaves, boy. Hundreds of them. It would've been enough to set me up for life."

    Han dipped his chin toward his chest to hide the disgust written all over his face. This hadn't exactly been the revelation he had been expecting, but it wasn't surprising either. Shrike had always been interested in the slave trade. He had used children from a young age to do his dirty work, coaxing them into his network by promising to offer them a better life than the one they had previous. That's what had happened to Han and he knew first hand, that wasn't a reality. It was slavery, plain and simple. And over the years, Han had grown to despise it. It was the catalyst that snapped the anger building inside of him. One hand casually reached toward his waistline where the sheath of his vibroblade was latched to his belt. Slowly, he started to curl his fingers around the handle.

    "And that's where I need you, boy," he rattled on, gesturing casually to Han with a wave of his hand. "I'll make you a deal. I got a lead on the location of a new batch of hardware. Outer Rim world...no fuss, no problem. Now, if you can help me track them down and bring them back to my base of operation safe and sound, I'll let you be. You can finally have your freedom, boy, and who knows...maybe I'll even throw in a portion of the profit to get yourself back on your feet. You'll be set for life and most importantly, you'll never have to see me again. Whaddya say?"

    There was no hesitation, no need to even think about it. He already knew his answer. Still, he had to play this right. Looking up slowly to gaze directly into Shrike's steely blues, Han hardened his gaze and simply stared at him for a long moment. He needed to make it appear as if he was truly considering the offer, otherwise, the rest of the plan wouldn't work. When he deducted that enough time had passed, Han diverted his gaze and sloppily nodded his head in agreement. "S-sure," came the croaked response from deep within his throat.

    A deep rumble of a laugh reverberated from within Shrike's chest. "That's what I like to hear, boy," he beamed, lowering both the blaster and the knife from the table. "A pleasure doing business with you." Gathering up the model sitting before him, he pushed it across the table back to Han before reclining back to enjoy his drink.

    Keeping his eyes lowered, Han caught the model in his grip as it came skittering across the table. With one fluid motion, he placed the model into his knapsack and came up with the vibroblade with the other hand, the blade's distinctive hum cutting into the noisy din around them.

    "What the..." Shrike turned, drops of alcohol still dripping from his chin. His eyes immediately sought out the vibrating blade and they instantly grew wide with surprise. "Now, Han, no need--"

    Han lunged forward across the table, his arm sweeping down in a wide arc to slash across the length of the older man's face. Starting with his right eye, the blade sunk into flesh and pulled diagonally across his nose and mouth until finally ending at the edge of his jaw. A blood curdling scream erupted from the old man and he frantically started to grasp at his face as red crimson began to flow.

    Frozen in shock, Han stared at what he had just done, his right hand trembling as he still held the blade upright. It was only after the other patrons of the cafe began to let out screams of their own and react to the gruesome scene unfolding before their eyes that he finally snapped out of his daze. Bounding to the floor, Han switched off the blade and began to run.

    From somewhere behind him, he heard the angry screams of his former guardian as he struggled from the booth to give pursuit.

    TAG: Anyone on Coruscant who happened to witness the events/>
    Last edited by Corellian_Outrider, Jun 4, 2016
  22. pashatemur Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Jun 21, 2004
    star 4
    MEMO from the GM: A great opening everyone, exciting "reads" and some very elegant posting!
  23. Sith-I-5 Jedi Grand Master

    Member Since:
    Aug 14, 2002
    star 6
    IC: Captain Ewlla Iillor, Security Chief Linda, Captain?s cabin, Huntress Interdictor.
    Location: Imperial Centre orbit


    Now that Iillor and the rating from the Endless knew who each other were, the captain idly circled a porcelain fingertip round the red comlink button that would connect her directly to Medical, so that she could ask if they had lost anyone.

    The communicator unit set into the arm of her couch bleeped first, making her jump slightly.

    She pressed the toggle to let the caller through, and the face of her security chief and close friend, Linda, appeared on the small repeater screen, that the top of her coffeine table had turned into. Linda shared her love of ancient and exotic languages, and regularly exchanged passages of Ancient Manaan with each other.

    "Morning." Iillor greeted brightly, sliding the tray aside so that she could see her friend properly.

    ?Morning, Captain.? Linda returned formally. ?The planetary lockdown has ceased.?

    Iillor did not know why she was being told. "Yeah." She nodded noncommittally, "And. So what?"

    ?Imperial Intelligence will be bothering us again to transfer Isard down to them. I've been using the emergency lockdown excuse for a bit of peace and quiet.?

    The captain frowned. What, Director Isard? Ohh! She shook her head, she must have really been tired. As a returning medical ship, and with the crisis caused by?, she looked sharply up to the rating, that nonsense at the Senate, Huntress had been instructed to prep a level one surgical team for a pair of high-level VIPs!

    "Linda. Did I hit my head last night?"

    ?Not that I noticed. Why??

    "Oh, I seem to be all over the place this morning. So, is Director Isard medically fit to move?"

    The security chief looked grave. ?Well, she won?t be tap dancing again.?

    Ewlla could feel her own heart pounding in her chest, and put her hand over her mouth. She had to ask. "Wha-, why ever not?"

    ?Keeps falling in the sink.?

    "Suh-weet Feth!" Iillor exhaled heavily, a nervous chuckle drawing the Endless woman?s silent stare. "You had me going there, girl. So, can I see her?"

    Linda grinned impishly at the success of her jape. ?Negative. the Ubiqtorate had me seal off half a deck for her and the hand. Deck Four, port side.? The chief cocked her head. ?Besides, I cannot see Iceheart coming on our shopping trips, if you were planning to sign her up to our Imp' Girls? network.?

    "Later, maybe. We have an Emperor?s Hand here as well?"

    ?Nope. An Inquisitor?s. Sitting alone in" She brought her hand, brown thumb and forefinger indicating something small, "un poco stasis jar, bed next to Isard. And I have had Ny Brun?s surgical team on my back every fifteen minutes, wanting to know where the rest of him is.?

    The captain smiled, feeling sorry for her friend. "Forward all your comms to my comlink, and get some sleep. That is an order, Chief."

    ?Yes, Ma?am. Thank you, Ewlla.? The screen went blank, and Ewlla looked up at her visitor.

    "Do you have a name?"

    ?Dinah, Captain.?

    The comlink on one of the surfaces, where Ewlla must have placed it before, started bleeping and vibrating then, the captain grabbing it up and tossing it under-arm to the rating, who cupped both hands together to catch it.

    "Well, Dinah, you are fielding all my calls. We?re going to the bridge. Also," She continued as she stepped into, and sat to zip one of her black boots up to the side of her right knee, and reached for its pair, "get me everything you can regarding that attack on the Senate."

    "Of course, Captain."

    Tag: Anyone on or around Coruscant who wants to start calling

    OOC: For my purposes, Spanish is used to represent Manaan.
    Last edited by Corellian_Outrider, Jun 4, 2016
  24. GenOochy Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Jan 8, 2003
    star 5
    Name: Bancor Turiamo Hill
    Gender: Male
    Age: 47
    Species: Munn
    Homeworld: Muunilinst
    Affiliation: Empire, Intergalactic Banking Clan
    Personality
    ---Traits: Regal, haughty, greed-driven and prideful, enjoys manipulating situations and beings under his control; more likely to take risk than most Muuns; very calculated and perceives the effects of any decision he makes in terms of decades, not just the immediate future

    Appearance
    ---Skin Color: Yellowed-pink
    ---Hair Color: None
    ---Eye Color: Dark Orange
    ---Clothing: Coal Gray Munnilist formal wear
    ---Other Attributes: Stands just over two meters tall
    ---Other Details: Missing a digit on his left hand

    Weapons: Onyx cane with a concealed vibroblade

    Starship
    ---Name: Crimson Pride
    ---Class: Custom SoroSubb-built Yacht
    ---Hyperdrive Class: Class 2
    ---Weapons: Six defensive quad laser cannons emplacements; four defensive missile launchers (similar to the ones located on Hailfire droids); an extensive ECM/ECCM suite
    ---Shields: Triple particle and energy layered shielding of superior protection
    ---Sublight Speed: 1100m/s per second
    ---Crew: 65 (includes navigation, engineering, weapons and staff)
    ---Passengers: Up to 50
    ---Max Cargo: 110,000kg
    ---Interior Description: Elaborate passageways lined in red carpet and white walls, with artwork and sculptures throughout; twenty expansive staterooms and two meeting/dining halls.
    ---Other Details: The Crimson Pride was built per specifications from Bancor to SoroSubb. The vessel measures over four hundred meters long and has a hanger bay for a small five-person shuttle and four droid fighters.

    Biography
    ---Personal History: A relative of former IBC Chairman San Hill, the economic wizardry of Bancor Turiamo Hill has lead the shaping of the Imperial Credit for the last five years. As the war finally draws to a close, the close supporter of the Empire, Bancor plans to assimilate the banks of the galaxy under his personal control. His current net worth is in the trillions.

    --

    Name: Bail Organa
    Age: 39
    Gender: Male
    Species: Human
    Personality: Calm, passive, stands up for what he believes and is not easily shaken; Speaks his mind, yet knowing the proper time to keep his mouth shut

    Appearance
    ---Eye Color: Brown
    ---Hair Color: Short, black hair
    ---Skin Complexion: Caucasian
    ---Clothing:Standard Alderaanian diplomat attire
    ---Physique: Medium build

    Force Sensitive: None

    Personal Ship
    ---Name: Tantive IV
    ---Class: CR90 Corellian Corvette
    ---Exterior Description: Long and very angular; 6 engines protrude from the backside with the nose of the ship coming to an almost hammer shape.
    ---Interior Description: Sterile white corridors connecting numerous crew compartments and meeting rooms
    ---Weapon Systems: Four turbolaser cannons
    ---Crew Compliment: Forty-six (Eight officers, thirty-eight enlisted)

    Biography
    ---Brief History: Senator Bail Organa was the First Chairman and Viceroy of Alderaan, a hero of the Clone Wars, and the head of the Royal Family of Alderaan. An influential politician, he was a loyal Senator who commanded the ear of Supreme Chancellor Palpatine himself.

    After the initiation of Order 66, Bail kept a strong political presence in the Senate working as a kind of double agent by serving both his Majesty Emperor Palpatine and the growing resistance. With the growing darkness surrounding the galaxy and the central hub of Coruscant, Bail and his wife, Breha Organa, were entrusted with Padme Amidala's only daughter.

    Tanis, soon renamed Leia to hide her true identity fit right into the Organa household and soon acquired the title of Princess of Alderaan. The Organa family soon returned to Alderaan where they believed they would be safe until an unwelcome visit by Lord Vader himself.

    Fearing his adopted daughter's safety, Bail left instructions for Breha to move to the secluded mountain region of their homeworld to keep the child safe while Bail returned to Coruscant to attend to matter of the Senate.

    His time on the city-planet was cut short by an urgent call to assist with transporting a wanted Alliance general and a Jedi Master to the secret Alliance headquarters on Ladarra. Along with fellow Senator, Mon Mothma and the assistance of Jedi Master Eme-ha Himou, Bail found himself in a race against time to secure the safety of the fugitives. But luck of the draw, or maybe it the Force, Bail and Mon Mothma succeeded in their task.

    Brea has died and the widower loses the pain of her death in working tirelessly to bring about the return of the Republic even as he maintains his Senate seat in the Imperial Senate.

    Leia is growing quickly and increasingly gets herself into all sorts of mischief to the degree he can no longer trust her upbringing entirely to his doting sisters and brings her to Coruscant to live with him.

    With the Senate bombed, he is questioning his sanity in bringing Leia to Coruscant and now with Palpatine dead; Vader has use the provisional proclamation to claim the throne.

    ---Traumatic Experiences: Witnessing the slaughter at the Jedi Temple during Order 66


    --

    Name: Colonel Odious Parvil Gender: Male
    Age: 35
    Species: Wolatarian
    Homeworld: Or’rac
    Affiliation: Empire (Wolatarian Imperial House Military Attaché)

    Personality
    ---Traits:
    Quirky, but professional. Seems to be fast and loose with the rules, but knows the boundaries and always ensures the mission is accomplished. Cares about those he works with, and is often sought out by others to confide private matters. He privately adheres to a naturalistic spirituality. He also has moments where a very violent temper appears, almost without warning. However, he has managed to conceal it from all for the last decade. He simply will vanish for a few hours until it passes, and therefore it has not affected his career.
    ---Likes: Caf; weapon and spacecraft designs; information of all sorts ---Dislikes: Loud, sudden noises; being bullied or threatened; xenophobia
    ---Habits: Constantly seeks and consumes caf; occasionally zones out to music; loves information and can appear ‘nosey’ as he seeks to gather information on any current situation.

    Appearance
    ---Skin Color:
    Pitch black exoskeleton
    ---Hair Color: Brown and black fur
    ---Eye Color: Black
    ---Clothing: Dark green dress uniform; double breasted with platinum buttons and trimming.
    ---Other Attributes: Caterpillar-like being with four arms and four eyes. Dense fur fades from brown at the head, to black, and back to brown. Eight stubby legs are nearly hidden under their main body mass. Despite their awkward appearance, they are fairly fast and relatively strong when compared to humans.
    ---Other Details: Wears gold, wire-rimmed round glasses.

    The Force
    ---Sensitivity:
    Yes, untrained
    ---Religion: Indigenous spirituality teaching unity of all life and the natural world
    ---Force Abilities: Mild telepathy, demonstrated telekinesis but untrained ---Force Weakness: All else, no training

    Lightsaber
    ---Crystals:
    One synthetic manufactured
    ---Blades: One
    ---Colors: Green
    ---Handle Descriptions: Curved, silver with black engravings – presented to him when he achieved rank of Colonel.

    Weapons: Concealed eight-shot, hypersonic needle-gun; sodium blaster holstered on his side (twenty shot); keeps a 7.7mm slugthrower assault rifle in his ship

    Starship
    ---Name:
    The Lucretia - ID# V-2279-L (Call Sign: Seven-Niner-Lambda) ---Class: Vandar Naval Works YB-26 Säbel
    ---Hyperdrive Class: Class 6
    ---Weapons: Two 3.1pW carbon-dioxide anti-fighter ‘continuous beam’ laser turrets; 5,500kg payload capacity (anti-shipping missiles and precision munitions capable platform); Electronic drone/radar/infrared countermeasure dispensers
    ---Shields: Light particle shielding for atmospheric reentry, provides no kinetic or blaster protection
    ---Sublight Speed: 600m/s per second ---Crew: 1-3
    ---Passengers: 3-5
    ---Max Cargo: 6200kg
    ---Interior Description: Very plain, exposed wiring and control lines inside narrow fuselage; analog and digital cockpit and controls. Benches are barely padded and crash webbing is simple restraints; walls padded with self-sealing nanofoam to maintain airtight integrity.
    ---Other Details: The YB-26 Säbel was developed for use post-Spika Wars by Vandar Naval Works, to serve as an unshielded, intermediate range strategic bomber. Range is limited and requires refueling stops to power the hyperdrive and engines. Antiquated by all modern standards, the restored bomber flown by Colonel Parvil is a historic relic and his personal project. The outer skin is layers of blaster and kinetic absorbing silver panels, giving the vessel a chromed finish.

    Biography
    ---Personal History:
    Born into a noble family on Or’rac, Parvil was well educated in private academies and entered military service through the National Academy’s Officer Training Corp. He is married and has two children that typically live on his 3.6 square kilometer estate on Or’rac, where he restores older vessels in his spare time. He decided to bring his family to Coruscant for his new job as a Military Attaché to the Galactic Empire on Coruscant. He has the ability to use the Force, but has never had any formal training. His lightsaber is a traditional weapon of his command post, and is not affiliated with any Force using group. His skills with the blade are limited to basic sparing.
    ---Military History: Officer Training Corp (Age 19-21); Aerospace Recon Squadron Five (Age 21-25); Sinear Fleet Systems Liaison (25-28); Woltar VII Strike and Training Range, instructor (28-31); Aerospace Recon Squadron Seventeen (31-34); Joint Aeronautical and Naval Intelligence Command (JANIC) (34-current); Imperial House Military Attaché to the Galactic Empire (current)
    ---Traumatic Experiences: Medical issues related to Force sensitivity nearly resulted in his expulsion from military service; nearly lost his wife, Sanna, during the birth of their first child, Oota Sage Parvil.


    --

    Name: Doctor Sanna Parvil Gender: Female
    Age: 36
    Species: Wolatarian
    Home world:[/b] Vandar
    Affiliation: Empire (Civilian Diplomatic Envoy from Wolatarian Imperial House)

    Personality
    ---Traits:
    Soft spoken, can adapt easily to most environment despite personal taste
    ---Likes: Brewed tea, soft music, luxury items, outdoors and water ---Dislikes: Violence, dirty or less-than-reputable places
    ---Habits: Prefers to appear passive, while refusing to be pushed around; born a ‘Freeworlder’, she does not automatically give respect unless it is due.

    Appearance
    ---Skin Color
    : Pitch black exoskeleton
    ---Hair Color: Brown and black fur
    ---Eye Color: Dark violet
    ---Clothing: Soft pastel colored dresses and suit coats; prefers to dress up without being overtly flashy.
    ---Other Attributes: Caterpillar-like being with four arms and four eyes. Dense fur fades from brown at the head, to black, and back to brown. Eight stubby legs are nearly hidden under their main body mass. Despite their awkward appearance, they are fairly fast and relatively strong when compared to humans.
    ---Other Details: Wears a fair amount of conservative jewelry; walks with a faster than normal gait, but appears to glide around a room.

    Force Sensitivity: None

    Weapons: Concealed eight-shot, needle-gun for self-defence

    Speeder
    ---Class:
    SoroSubb Invicta LX Luxury Aerospeeder
    ---Speed: 260kph
    ---Passengers: 5
    ---Max Cargo: 110kg
    ---Interior Description: White nerf-leather interior, black Nubian hardwood accents on driving column, dash board and doors
    ---Other Details: High-gloss red exterior with drop-top; anniversary gift from her husband, purchased with government funds.

    Biography
    ---Personal History:
    Sanna was born and raised on Or’rac shortly after the Bro’can-Freeworld War. Her family was working-class and she scrapped to go to medical school. Completing school with honors, she studied for her Doctorate in Neuropathology. Since graduation she has worked in A’thor at both a private practice and the local hospital, advising the local Imperial House military on mental health matters. She met Odious when he came to her practice regarding a Force related medical issue. They began dating and married two years later. They have had two children, a son and a daughter. She has recently accepted a post with her husband as an attaché to the Galactic Empire.

    ---Traumatic Experiences: Nearly died during childbirth of her first son, took nearly six months to recover.


    --

    Name: Captain Etana Oss
    Gender: Male
    Age: 34
    Species: Wolatarian
    Homeworld: Woltar II
    Affiliation: Empire (Wolatarian Imperial House Military Attaché)

    Personality
    ---Traits:
    Laid-back and confident; stretches the rules, but like his counterpart Col. Parvil, knows the boundaries
    ---Likes: Heavy music, flying inside an atmosphere
    ---Dislikes: Combat outside the atmosphere
    ---Habits: Spins a pen around his fingers, or raps one on nearby surfaces while thinking

    Appearance
    ---Skin Color:
    Pitch black exoskeleton
    ---Hair Color: Brown and black fur
    ---Eye Color: Black
    ---Clothing: Dark green dress uniform; double breasted with platinum buttons and trimming; or, orange flight, brown leather coat; often wears dark sun shades.
    ---Other Attributes: Caterpillar-like being with four arms and four eyes. Dense fur fades from brown at the head, to black, and back to brown. Eight stubby legs are nearly hidden under their main body mass. Despite their awkward appearance, they are fairly fast and relatively strong when compared to humans.
    ---Other Details: Fur on top of his head cut flat in a martial fashion

    Force Sensitivity: None

    Weapons: Sodium Blaster, 7.7mm assault rifle (attached to ejection seat)

    Starship
    ---Name:
    ID# AS-231-D7 (Call Sign: Green-Eleven)
    ---Class: Antar Aerospace Engineering Rb-162 Alvaro Fighter ---Hyperdrive Class: Class 3
    ---Weapons: Six 22mm rail cannons; Eight Rx-7g air-to-air Missiles; Electronic warfare package; Radar/infrared countermeasures
    ---Shields: Overlapping particle shielding
    ---Sublight Speed: 1900m/s per second
    ---Crew: 1
    ---Passengers: 0
    ---Max Cargo: 75kg of supplies
    ---Interior Description: All glass, optical linked control surfaces in cockpit.
    ---Other Details: The Rb-162 is a slightly older aerospace fighter, but still active in the Imperial House Aerospace Force. With eight launch rails, advanced ECM and ECCM and blazing rail cannons, the fighter has been a mainstay in the aerospace forces for two decades. The fighter is capable outside the atmosphere, but is better suited for combat inside the atmosphere of a planet.

    Biography
    ---Personal History: Etana Oss was born on Woltar II and attended a private university on Or’rac with General Parvil. He has been devoted to piloting for the last two decades. Though most of his fellow pilots are a decade younger than him, he has refused to give up flying for the administrational world, which has brought his career to a plateau, however he does not mind. Still friends with General Parvil, he will be accompanying him on the latest mission to meet with the Rebellion.
    ---Military History: Officer Training Corp (Age 18-20); Seventh Fighter Wing (21-25); Twelfth Strategic Bomber Support Squadron (25-28); Seventh Fighter Wing (28-30); Aerospace Recon Squadron Seventeen (30-33); Imperial House Military Attaché to the Galactic Empire (current) ---Traumatic Experiences: A collision that left him stranded in space for two days, unable to move in his escape pod and killed a student pilot of his.
    Last edited by Corellian_Outrider, Jun 4, 2016
  25. GenOochy Jedi Master

    Member Since:
    Jan 8, 2003
    star 5
    Bancor Hill
    0511 Local Time
    Coruscant

    Our banking institutions were more dangerous to the Old Republic than any army. Once they allowed our banks to control the issuance of currency; first by inflation, then by deflation, the banks and corporations that grew-up around the Old Republic deprived the galaxy of all real property; and now their children wake-up homeless on the planets their fathers conquered. You give me control of a sector's currency, Moff Tarkin, and I care not who makes its laws. - IGBC Director Bancor Hill to Moff Wilhuf Tarkin in a private meeting

    Control the Credit, control the conflict...

    The hyperdrive disengaged with a shudder barely great enough to move the water inside the glass that sat on the table in front of the Munn, Bancor. They had arrived above the planet of Coruscant aboard the yacht, Crimson Pride.

    Eight Munns sat around the table, flimplast files and data screens showing thousands of points of fiscal data from across the galaxy. There were over ten thousand active exchanges in the core worlds alone, each moving up and down a couple points ever minute and shifting fortunes between hands and planets. Coruscant?s central stock exchange, and most others in the sector, had been rattled by the bombing of the senate.

    "We can extend the line of credit and interject some additional liquidity into the Imperial markets over the next two months at a rate of three hundred billion a day; just enough to stimulate government borrowing. We know Lord Vader will want to continue the production at Kuat," said a regional financier from Kuat.

    "I don't want the Empire to over extend its self. They already borrow twenty-two trillion a day, the Credit is stretched thin and the markets, outside of defense, are still in shambles. I realize for your sector defense spending is positive, but this Empire needs to diversify. If we don't get raw good and agricultural markets going again, this galaxy is going to starve and create further conflicts," said Fijo Marcay, head of the IGBC's Naboo-based branch, who was then followed by Bancor himself.

    “Additional low-intensity conflict over food-shortages can be advantageous, but it needs to be controlled. I am in the belief that at this time, too many conflicts will muddle the markets in additional uncertainty and negatively affect our profit margins. I do believe we need growth and support towards both defense spending from the Empire and additional growth in non-military sectors. We’ve discussed this before and I think now is the time to start pushing for easier credit to the agricultural worlds. The wars have left their scar there and now the doctors can borrow from us to heal the scabs.” He said, looking up at the group and then back down to the message he was typing. “I think lowering the rates of interest in a—‘goodwill’ gesture to the agriculture sector should boost those markets. I would suggest we begin a purchase program of stock in the top-- say sixty farming companies, over the next two days. In thirty-six hours let slip to the media the possibility that we will lower rates and then eighty hours from now we’ll make the decision public, and if the markets rise over ten percent, we’ll dump our purchased stock and balance out the price. Try to keep a bubble from building there too quickly.”

    "My branch could see a return of-" Marcay counted in his head. "Seven to nine trillion on proper investments from that sell-off. Unless we held onto the shares, or drove the price down where the bank could take possessi-" He began to say, and was cut-off by Bancor.

    "No, no, no. You don't want to own those companies directly. You will always make far more money and have far more control as long as you keep them reliant on your line of credit. Just like the military and health sectors. It's a quick way to make a Credit, short-term. There is no advantage trying to micromanage a bunch of farmers as a banker."

    Bancor rose in his seat, the rest of the room following suit. “Coruscant awaits, as well as our favorite customer. More than ever that Empire needs our credit to fill their coffers. War is valuable, but this war has gone on too long. As we rebuild the galaxy, let’s make sure the Empire has the resources it needs to end any resistance.”

    The yacht descended into the early dawn skies of Coruscant and landed at the major intergalactic spaceport near the government district. His day would begin with a trip to the Coruscant central stock exchange, and then a brunch meeting with the head of several mining giants in the core worlds. By evening he wanted at least one meeting with a Moff or two to get the latest updates as power was transferred to Lord Vader.

    Thus was the norm for the money master who bought and sold the wealth of worlds in a day.


    ---

    Colonel Odious Parvil
    Doctor Sanna Parvil
    Captain Etana Oss
    0215 Local Time
    Coruscant


    The dark side of the planet faced him, with the system’s single star visible just right of the planet. Vast cities and traffic sparkled with activity, looking like rivers of lava on the surface. Despite being a center of commerce and life in the galaxy, he had never known the planet to not appear sinister.

    The Wolatarian Imperial House missile corvette, Rish’tag, left hyperspace minutes ago under close scrutiny of the defense platforms and capital ships around the planet. Once confirming their neutral status, the Colonel was given permission to maneuver his ancient Wolatarian bomber out of the hanger and begin heading towards the planet. The bomb bay held household goods, and the navigator’s seat was occupied by his wife. Behind him, a single Rb-162 fighter launched with his good friend and collogue, Captain Etana Oss. They were assigned to be the first military attaché to the Imperial Government from the distant Wolatarian worlds.

    The Wolatarian worlds sat beyond the galactic plane by a hundred light-years, in a globular cluster known as A’care. Since the war and strife that had befallen the galaxy over a dozen years ago, they had closed up all but the most basic of trade routes and remained silent. Now, with a prospect of peace, and the desperate need for outside investment in their economy, and a place to export their vast natural resources, they were looking to reconnect with the galaxy. The Wolatarians were split into three sectors (known as the Houses), which were slowly consolidating into a single house. The Imperial House, far more democratic than the name would imply, was taking the lead in efforts to reconnect with the galaxy.

    It was icy-cold inside the bomber as it made its way slowly towards the planet. They had exited at such as distance that the trip would take almost three hours before they touched down on the surface.

    Onboard, Odious’ two children were beginning to complain. They had been onboard the small corvette for five days, limited to his stateroom except for meals in the wardroom. Now they were in the cramped, ancient bomber that was never designed to be comfortable. Between trying to deal with the complex Coruscant navigation rules as well as the complaints from his offspring, the young Colonel’s nerves were rattled.

    “Wolatarian Seven-Niner Lambda! Enter route four-two, six kilomteres west. You are entering four-one. Divert immediately! Corellia six-two-beta, advised errant vessel at seventeen kilometers triple-zero. Do you have visual?”

    Parvil jerked the controls at the barking of the planetary control station. He looked over the navigation systems trying to figure out the network of routes and traffic lanes and prevent a collision in the upper atmosphere of the galaxies most populated planet. The quad-winged bomber skirted into the atmosphere in lane forty-two, engines beginning their switch from ion to turbine propulsion.

    Oota and Is’bel sat in the back watching the second holovid on a handheld vidscreen. Sanna had already broken up two fights between the Wolatarian children. Oota was nine years old, and Is’bel just turning five standard years of age. The Colonel was especially protective of his family. While possibly one of the most successful career military officers in the Wolatarian military and a brilliant analyst, the Colonel was also a family being; which was the reason why he had moved the family from their estate on Or’rac to Coruscant where he was to live for the next year. His brother would be watching his home while they were away.

    “Lucretia, try to keep it in the lane.” Came the jesting voice of Captain Oss, just behind the older bomber providing escort. Both the Parvil’s and Oss were billeted as the attaché to the Galactic Empire. They had no embassy, but two floors of a Coruscant high-rise had been leased by the Wolatarian government to serve as both home and office to the attaché. The high-rise had a fairly large landing pad two floors below the leased rooms, with enough room for the YB-26, the RB- 162 and a couple additional shuttles.

    Earlier in the month, seven civilian staff members were sent to ready the new office. They would provide the staff needed to operate to de facto embassy. Sanna would serve as a civilian representative of the Imperial House, though this was primarily a military mission. Sanna was a Doctor of Neuropathology and had worked at an civilian hospital. She took the post as she had been an advisor to the Aerospace Force on mental health in the past and it worked well for the Wolatarian Imperial government to move a single family. She had already planned to start her own practice, so quitting her position at the local hospital was not a difficult decision.

    As the bomber buffed against the atmosphere, Sanna made sure the children were strapped into their crash webbing. Oota strained at the webbing, peering out the window at the vast city planet below. The lad was fascinated by the galaxy at large, often pouring over holobooks about various races and cultures in the known universe. He saw himself as a ‘super-sleuth’ and darted around playing fictional spy-games with his younger sister and school friends.

    Is’bel was a few years younger, yet tried to follow her older brother everywhere. At this moment though, she was less interested in the world outside and more upset that the vidscreen had been taken from her, abruptly ending the animated holoflick she had watched at least a few dozen times. Sanna, concerned about the screen getting dropped and damaged during reentry, had placed in into an overhead bin.

    Five kilometers above the artificial surface of the planet, Odious leveled the vessel out and began adjusting into the traffic lane, dropping into a long slopping traffic lane, filled with transports and shuttles of all kinds. His warning receiver went off for a moment and he popped to attention. The aged bomber was momentarily locked on by the scanner of an Imperial fighter. The alarm disengaged a moment later and twin TIE fighters broke to the left of the two Wolatarian craft without a word. Their black silhouettes sent an odd chill down the Colonel’s exoskeleton.

    They weren’t on the farming world of Or’rac anymore. This was the heart of a galaxy spanning empire known for its cold, methodical ruthlessness. For the first time since accepting the assignment, the Colonel was worried if he had made the right decision. Though this would likely earn him a general’s rank, he had brought his family into the belly of a beast he really didn’t understand.

    “Twenty-one out, we’re suppose to integrate into lane-- two- four-four, right?” Colonel Parvil commed to his wing mate.

    “Check, merger lane is in-- five kilometers. Need to drop speed to two hundred klicks an hour before we merge with the speeders.” Captain Oss responded.

    “We’re going to be just fine, Ooch.” said Sanna behind him, reading the tension in his voice as he spoke to Etana. Ooch or Oochy was a pet name she had for him.

    “I know, its just—stressful day.” He replied, activating the air brakes and slowing the bomber and dropping altitude. “I feel like getting settled in and ordering food to be delivered. First meeting we have is tomorrow at nineteen hundred.”

    “I need some sleep after this. Three days on a navy ship is too much.” She said, as she brushed her head against his and then stepped into the navigator’s console. “And decent food would be nice. What’s good for delivery here?”

    “Alderaanian food, hands down; and I checked the holonet, there’s a place that can delivery in twenty minutes to the— office.”

    “I don’t what to call it either.” She said, continuing a previous conversation on the matter. “They don’t want us calling it an embassy; I don’t want to call it home--”

    “I know and calling it the office just sounds sad since we’re living there. But, from the holos sent to me, it looks nice enough. A little on the modern side, but its roomy. I think we have fifteen hundred meters of living space, and then the office part is another three thousand.”

    “..and its only a year. We’ll be back on Or’rac for good next year. And there are great opportunities here for the kids. History, culture; things they would never experience- Up! Up! Up!” She stopped mid-sentence and frantically cried out.

    The bomber made a rapid vertical pull, missing a large freighter by just a couple hundred meters.

    “Frackin’ backwaterer! Learn to navigate or get out of the city!” Came an angry voice over the comm. Sanna’s eyes widened and looked back to see if the children had heard the expletive from the other pilot.

    Odious took a moment to compose himself, eyes pealed to the traffic of Coruscant. The freighter had made a rapid climb and Parvil was about three hundred meters out of the assigned lane. It only took a second before the traffic controller was barking at him again to move his vessel into his lane. Odious was now flustered and that was quickly turning to anger.

    “Seven-Niner-Lambda is dropping to lane two-four-four.” He said, as calmly as he could.

    The next couple minutes were silent in the cockpit and the bomber dipped lower into the traffic. A few minutes later, the repulsors came on and the bomber slowed and maneuvered out of the traffic lanes towards the landing dock. Wings unfolded and the ship slowed to a hover over the landing pad. Two human handlers directed with glowsticks for the bomber to land on one set of markings.

    The wheels touched down and the wings folded back; turbines whining as the bomber taxied into the parking position. As soon as Odious pulled the parking brake, he began powering down the engines. For better or worse, they were at their new residence for the next year.

    Sanna was already in the back un-strapping the children and fetching their packs. Odious pulled his personal briefcase from a holding and checked the lock. He crawled over to the side hatch and began undoing the airlock, a sharp hiss sounding as the cabin pressure rushed out into the thinner air of high- rise Coruscant.

    The ramp lowered and Odious, followed by his family crawled down and out of the bomber. The temperature was cool, roughly sixteen degrees and morning light had yet to break. The city glowed brightly around them, floodlamps illuminating the pad with harsh white light. The first thing he noticed was the smell of Coruscant, oddly artificial and layered with an ionic, exhaust smell; a far cry from his own clear, organic world of Or’rac. Sanna noted it as well, even before Odious turned to her, she crinkled her nose in disgust.

    “Inside it is better.” He said to her, before turning to the welcoming party of five other Wolatarians; all of them were dressed in simple black business attire.

    He caught each one of their hands in a greeting clasp as they welcomed the Colonel as a VIP to what would be his home. Oddly enough, there was no host party members present (as in agents of the Empire), though a couple white armor-clad Stormtroopers walked out of the building, blaster rifles at their side. Their menacing appearance caused the dockhands to all but cower as they walked around, poking around a couple of parked speeders.

    Odious had a short speech prepared incase the media was present, but it was just the staff workers there on the pad. Captain Oss crawled over a few moments later, removing his flight helmet. He dropped most of the speech and just spoke to the Wolatarians.

    “Well, everyone.” He said, speaking up over the drone of the traffic. “I know it is early, but I would like to thank you for the work you have done putting this place together. You know, we’re the first envoy to the larger galaxy in almost sixteen years. This is going to be monumental step for us and I thank you all for being apart of it. My wife and I, and Captain Oss here; we’re going to make sure that where we go from here and what we do over the next twelve months is productive and a betterment not only to the Imperial House, but the entire A’care cluster. Thank you for being here and— well, let’s get to work.”


    --


    Beep-beep-beep, click.

    The door opened to the penthouse, and Odious pushed it with his body, while carrying a couple cases in his hands. The motion sensor brought the glowpanels on slowly to an ambient dim. The low built kitchen counter was just to his right as he walked from the foray towards the main living room. He tossed his key-card ring and brief case onto the counter, and looked into the den. Large leather couches surrounded the caf-table and a fireplace glowed with a blue gas-flame. A light water cascade ran-down a dark rock wall, while large darkened windows looked over the city. The floor was inlaid hardwoods with decorative patterns and the ambient lighting set the room off perfectly.

    The Imperial House government hadn’t spared expenses on the diplomatic suite, and Odious had a hand in the apparition of funds. He had hired a well-known Or’racian architect to design both the suite and the diplomatic offices downstairs. Upstairs, everything was configured for the caterpillar-like Wolatarians’ height and build. Downstairs, carefully consideration was made to make it functional for the Wolatarian staff, yet inviting to species of all builds.

    The Parvil children ran in unabashed and jumped on the cushioned couches, settling in quickly. Odious embraced his wife with an arm.

    “Welcome home, I suppose” He said, a bit unsure.

    “As long as we are together, it’s home.” She replied. “It really is beautiful; I think I can get use to it.” She said, jesting a bit. At least six hundred thousand credits had been put into the renovating of the suite and it showed. She moved into the living room and took a seat on the soft leather couch.

    “You know what we need? One of those droids; the human- like ones that translate and perform task around the place, like clean dishes and greet people when they come-in.” She said abruptly.

    “I’ve seen those before, I always though they were kinda cheesy.” He said, snickering a bit. “But if the civilian envoy from the Imperial Wolatarian House wants one, I’m sure I can find it in the budget to procurer one for her.”

    “Papa! I want a droid! One of those spy probes that can get into safes and can cloak!” Oota said excitedly, breaking from the discussion he was having with his younger siblings, telling her a fantastical tale about the fortress they would build in the living room.

    “Oh yes, that’s all I need you doing; running around with a mechanical unit that can get into my files.” He said. “Look, we’ll find a droid for the whole family that you kids can play with and take care of cleaning up after you. Which, reminds me; this is our house now, but we’re going to hand it to another family next year. Don’t tear up the walls, no drawing on them and don’t break anything, please. Don’t jump on the furniture, et cetera. Okay?”

    “Alright, Papa.” The kids said in annoyed unison.

    “Okay, let’s see your bedrooms and let you get to sleep.” He said, moving for the hall and gesturing for the tired children to follow.


    TAG: Any and All (PM me if you want to colaborate. Bail's post coming soon...)
    Last edited by Corellian_Outrider, Jun 4, 2016
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