Star Wars The Old Republic - Renaissance

Prologue^


The Jedi students sat around the great fire in the center of the halls and stared at the young Jedi Knight who had visited them for a week to tell them an old tale. Apprentices of alages were present in the large dining hall of the academy. From younglings to Padawans everybody had listened to the intense story of Revan and his redemption. Of the Exile and her battle with the evil Triumvirate. Over five nights they had heard the tale of love an treachery. Of failure, deception and triumph. The tale of some of the greatest villains and most glorious heroes the galaxy had ever known . . . and of some people who had been both.


Asaja Morine, who had only recently been recognized as a Jedi Knight had enjoyed the excited silence of the students while she told them the story. Even some Knights and Masters had come to listen to her tale.
?And with that victory the Dark Wars ended. And for many years nothing was heard of the Exile and Master Revan. But their victory was the beginning of a great Renaissance of the Galactic Republic. And their legacy is treasured by the Jedi Order to this very day.? She smiled and looked over to the other Jedi Master who sat next to her. The little green creature nodded in agreement. ?
Great heroes, they have been indeed.? The much older Master agreed.

?And the Siths?? One of the younglings asked. Asaja smiled. The youth was always fascinated by their ages old enemy. Especially because they were extinct in these days, as far as the Jedi Order could say.
?Remnants of them, resurface they did. But no major conflict would rise for many hundreds of years.? The little green Master said and stood up.
?What about the Jedi? How did they rebuild their order?? Another young Jedi asked. ?How did the Republic deal with so many losses?? ?How was it rebuild?? ?Where there great heroes in the days after the war?? ?Was there peace??

Asaja smiled about these questions. ?Certainly.? She only said. But she did not know. Her studies had ended with the end of the war. And she felt shame about that. The hearts of the younger Jedi had obviously seen what she had missed. The true challenge of the time had been the recovery. The Renaissance.

?Maybe I can be of assistance.? One Master said these word. A Mon Calamri who had been present every night. He had stood opposite of Asaja Morine and had listened to the story she had told. Now he stepped forth.
?An old friend of mine might have the answer to many of these questions? He smiled and gave the little green Jedi a long look. With a sigh the green Maaster nodded. And from the robes of this Jedi Master he drew out a crystal cube. Asaja could hear many young Jedi holding their breath. The mon calamari Master kneeled next to the youngling who had asked first and handed it it him.

?Have you ever seen one of those?? He asked with a smile.

?It is a holocron!? The young Jedi nodded.

?And an old one. Take it and ask your question. And choose your question wisely. As the keeper of the Holocron knows many things. But only those who know how to ask will be given the answer.? He said and handed the boy the holocron.

The second he touched it, it hummed once and a projection faded into existence.

?I am Jedi Master Gnost-Dural, the Keeper of this Holocron. What is it you desire young Jedi??

The crowd of students laughed out in joy. That the holocron seemed to recognize the user was exiting and intruiging. The present Jedi Masters smiled and exchanged looks. It was rare the Mon Calamari Jedi granted others access to the holocron. But now he stood back and allowed the young boy to ask his question.

?I am Caleb Brandl.? The boy introduced himself. ?And I want to know about the Renaissance of the Republic. After the Dark Wars had ended.? He said as confident as he could.

Gnost-Dural nodded, his projection grew larger as he seemed to gather his knowledge.

After the Dark Wars the galaxy was in a terrible shape. Yet strong men and women were determined to restore it to it´s former state. In th

 

Please have a look at the Prologue on page 1 as well.

---

[color=darkblue]
[blockquote][i] Since the birth of the Republic Coruscant had been the cauldron of political movements and innovations. The war had changed little. Under the Supreme Chancellor Cressa the Republic had begun to rebuild the galaxy. The great RESTORATION project had been created and the Senate had spawned feverish discussions about the list of systems that would profit from it. Other concerns like the secession movements in the Outer Rims or the quickly strengthening pirate organizations were daily topics of arguments. Yet, the real power on Coruscant lay in the hands of one man. The Supreme Chancellor. Empowered by emergency laws that had once given him the authority to organize the resistance against the Sith, he still held absolute power of the Republic. Only one factor limited that power. The desperate need for more ships to enforce the Republic´s rule was both the greatest concern the starting point of a development that would change the face of the Galaxy forever. It was an ironic nod of fate itself, that these were the days the Jedi returned to the center of the Republic. [/i]

From the Holocron of Jedi Master Gnost-Dural[/blockquote][/color]

[hr]

[color=blue][b][u]Coruscant; Senate District, Balcony of Kuat[/u][/b][/color]


[image=http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20070815034736/inciclopedia/images/f/fc/Coruscant_senate.jpg]

The Senate District was a labyrinth of plazas, balconies and colonnades. And all these were populated with the Senators, courtiers and embassadors of the millions of world of the Galactic Republic. Who spend his morning where, who talked to who and what Senator had access to which private owned balcony, all of this were moves on a giant board that was called the Galactic Politics.

[image=http://images.wikia.com/starwars/images/0/03/Hapans-GOI.jpg] [image=http://images2.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20100624124717/starwars/images/3/3b/CoreWorldNobles-GOI.jpg]

[b]The Supreme Chancellor Cressa [/b] had to pass this labyrinth every morning on his way to work. If he did not appear, it was a certain sign of crisis. One of many mindless rules this subsociety on Coruscant had created.

This morning was no different. Except the mood was a bit more . . . anxious. Something had changed. The delicate balance of power had shifted. And nobody new to which side, yet. The third Prince of Tion had arrived on Coruscant to serve as an embassador to his people. The same day nine other ambassodors had been exchanged. But this one held a special meaning. His arrival announced a shift in power that could erode the system the dwellers of the senatorial arena had created for themselves. And everybody wanted to secure his piece of the new tapestry of power. Why this single man had such influence was hard to understand for an outsider . . .

To understand it, you had to understand the state of the Republic, first. They had too few ships and too many problems. Secession movements were on the rise, after the success of the [b][i]Argazdan Redoubt[/i][/b] to politically defend it´s position against the Republic. And pirates and rumored remnants of the Sith made the galactic citizens fearful. Who could give them security again? Only the Republic. But to do so the republic needed ships. And ships were an rare ressource, in these days.

The war had destroyed most of the fleet and had left Kuat heavy damaged. Corellia would be busy for decades overhauling and repairing those ships that could be brought back to service. And that left only the [i]Loronar Driveyards[/i] and the [i]Koros Shipyards[/i] as the lone producers of new battleships for the Republic. Unfortunately one family controlled them both.

Ships meant power and therefore the two persons controlling the ships controlled the Republic. The Chancellor had control over the fleet and the freedom to use at he saw fit. Emergency powers were still in effect and his political supporters from the colonies and some influential Coreworlds would keep it this way, u

 

---

[color=darkblue]
[blockquote][i] The Kanz Sector in the Outer Rims of the known galaxy had been a source of concern for many years even before the recent events that would come to be known as the [b] Kanz Disorders [/b]. For decades the aggressive Ereesi had preyed upon the trading routes of the system. And their raids had more than once brough great suffering and tragedy to their neighbours of the planet Argazdan. The Republic had reacted to this with supporting the Argazdan people in their attempt protect themselves. Therefore the planet had a great and modern fleet, when the most unfateful of events were set in motion by a single woman with strong believes and unlimited ambition. Myrial of Argazdan had once been the Provisional Governor of the planet, but became famous in the galaxy as the Prophetess of the Goddess Via. And her followers would soon proof to be as fanatic as she was. After the planet declared independence she undertook a cleansing in which all infidels on her planet were hunted down and killed. But the ambitions of such a woman were not limited to one planet and its independence. While the Republic was too busy with fighting Mandalorians and Sith Myrial´s eyes turned towards Ereesi and soon the enemy of her people felt the wrath of her Armada and Goddess alike. The tragedy of Ereesi would later be known as the first of many. It would mark the beginning of Kanz Disorders. [/i]

From the Holocron of Jedi Master Gnost-Dural[/blockquote][/color]

[color=red][u][b]Planet Argazdan, The Temple of Via, Chamber of the Prophetess[/b][/u][/color]
[i](written by TGI and MoK together)[/i]

[image=http://feyd.rautha.free.fr/Dune/dune%20Palace.jpg]

[b]Myrial of Argazdan[/b] seemed to bath in the fire. Her hands spread away from her body, her head pulled back she laughed out loud. Around her the dark shades of dying Ereesi sent outsilent screams, as the fire of a thousand suns burned away their flesh.
Then suddenly the fire vanished into the crystal cube that had projected it and Myrial was lone again in the Grande Chamber of the Temple.
The last moments of Ereesi had returned into the projector to be forever stored and treasured by the woman who had caused them. With a sigh she allowed her hands to sink. Her head lowered until her chin touched the skin between her breasts. She pulled her crimson robes around her body, that was covered with black tattoos. Every inch of her skin was a testament of her unshakable faith. At last she pulled the hood over her bald head and gave a second sigh. As if it had been a command, the great doors to the Chamber opened and a black man in a grey uniform entered. He lowered his eyes and bowed deeply. The three blue lines on his shoulder were a manifest of his high rank, but they were insignificant in the presence of his Prophetess.

?Regent, the Eressi ship has been found outside the Telos system an hour ago.?

Myrial took in the words and waited several breath before reacting to them. ?Is it done?? Her questions made her General nod.

?Yes, yes my Regent. Your son Ilac took it upon himself to lead our man into the corridors of the vessel. He reports nobody has been left alive.? The man reported.

[i] Good boy [/b]

?The last of the Ereesi have perished, my Regent.? The man added the words as if he doubted his mistress had understood the meaning of his announcement. For centuries the Ereesi had plagued the system and had raided Argazdan again and again. Finally they had payed the price for such blasphemy. They had paid it with the blood of their entire species.
?Good.? It was all she said as she slowly turned. Her eyes burned with the feverish believe of godly vessel. Few men could bare these eyes. The General was not among them. He lowered his view once more and began to slowly move backwards.
The first step was done, ten years after her holy crusade had begun. Soon new trials would await her people. New planets. New enemies. And a Republic that was all too eager to keep her from fulfilling her destiny. The Goddess had revealed to her, how she

 

_______________________________
The age of peace brought the rise of many new dangers. The most dominant among them were those who lay siege to the vivid and essential veins of galactic civilization. The hyperspace trade routes.
Pirates had hunted on the hyperspace routes of the galaxy since the beginning of space-travelling itself. But after the Dark Wars piracy had reached a short but dangerous golden age. The Republic was weaker than ever before, while the black market was filled with military technology all parties of the wars had left behind. The Jedi were too few to take care of this new threat and there was no shortcoming for combat-trained personal. In this climate piracy could flourish unchallenged. Among these pirates the Bloody Banner stood out. The fleet of Ion Tarsis was powerful and influential. Soon they grew to be the most notorious and feared organization in the Outer Rim. But equally as legendary as these pirates were, was their most bitter and dedicated hunter. Admiral Carth Onasi ? the great hero of the Jedi Civil War ? had taken a very personal interest in bringing the Bloody Banner to justice. And in the Outer Rims a hunt build, that would become legendary in the years to come . . .

From the Holocron of Jedi Master Gnost-Dural

---

[b][color=green]Ion Tarsis, Somewhere in the Gordian Reach[/color][/b]
[i](thanks to Fin to allow me posting up his openning. Written by Fin)[/i]

He could imagine how screams and explosions fought for auditorial dominance aboard the Republic ship. The [i]Hammerhead[/i]-class was shaken by another wave of explosions. The lesser fuel tanks had been hit by their last wave of missiles, Ion Tarsis assumed. It did not matter. The gravity of the giant yellow gas giant had already grabbed the ship and now dragged it into it´s core. Long before it reached it, it would be crushed by the force of the giant planet.

The bridge of the Mandalorian battleship [i] Bloody Banner [/i] was not a place of celebration at this moment.

[image=http://images3.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20090601053019/starwars/images/thumb/c/c3/Kandosii-type_dreadnaught.jpg/244px-Kandosii-type_dreadnaught.jpg]

Most of them had served on such a ship once themselves. Many had friends still serving on these ships. It had been a necessity. An act of survival. The Republic was out there for their blood, so they would need to kill them. They needed to kill as many of them as necessary to survive. The Hammerhead and it´s [i]Foray[/i]-class escort had lurked for them to pass the nearby subspace route. Hidden in the shadow of the gas giant they had felt save. Invisible on sensors, they thought. A perfect trap for the Bloody Banner. One that showed tactical skill and practical experience. Yes. It was true. They had send Onasi.

[b]Ion Tarsis[/b] sighed and turned to his second-in-command: [b]Ron Wessel[/b]. The young man seemed to show some satisfaction with their victory. ?They did not really stand a chance, did they?? He said. Tarsis nodded. Out numbed 4 to 1 and with their systems powered down. Not the greatest battle he had ever done. ?They were counting on their invisibility. They probably never powered up their gunnery, before we took out the reactor.? He sighed. Ron nodded in agreement. ?A flawless ambush. By any means. Our shocktroops report they have captured the Corellia. One more Foray-class to add to our fleet, right? That informant of yours really has excellent information, Sir.?
The informant. Yeah.
?Oh yes, he is the real deal. And he had an impressive way of showing it.? Too impressive. This mysterious friend was way to powerful. To someone like him, Ion Tarsis and the Bloody Banner was nothing but a pawn. ?The [i] Outlaw [/i]shall secure the ship and we return to [i]The Home [/i]. I expect a list of possible candidates for our newest ship by tomorrow.? Ion Tarsis sighed and turned, leaving his bridge. He met the eyes of several old comrades. They all thought the same. Not long ago, it would have been them on this Hammer

 

The three great wars had brought many changes to the galaxy. Most were undesirable. Yet, on the planet Trevi IV the war had been the source of great wealth. The Trevi-colony had always lived from the trading and commerce. Yet, with the end of the war the family controlling the great starport of Trevi-City, now known as the Grande Chambers of Commerce, had become rich beyond expectations. Their city had become one giant marketplace for all things desired. Transports of goods were needed everywhere. The ship-lanes passing Trevi IV were soon crowded with commercial transports and those who profited from this new wealth. It seems strange, or probably exceptionally wise that a man of great faith and insight choose this planet of all in the galaxy to announce his truth. The Prophet had one day appeared on the marketplace and had begun to predict the events of the future. Once some of his predictions had come true he soon had gathered a considerable group of followers. And the people began to listen to his words, unknowing they had a hidden meaning. One that only time would reveal.

From the Holocron of Jedi Master Gnost-Dural

[image=http://www.sadgeezer.com/Legacy/gallery/Dune/dune_palace.jpg]

Trevi IV; Trevi-City; The Chambers of Commerce

[image=http://images.wikia.com/starwars/images/1/1d/Salovan%27s_Souk.jpg]

The Prophet had stayed silent. For five days and four nights he had not spoken.

Tenel Iagore had been there for every single of these five days. Like so many others he awaited a few minutes with the Prophet to ask him the most important question in his life. Was his liitle daughter still alive? Every day since he had lost her on one of the refugee-transports he had asked himself that question. The Prophet was his only hope for an answer. Therefore he sat there in the greatest of the Grande Chambers of Commerce with hundreds of others and waited. The market had been reorganized to another one of the many halls. The whole city of Trevi IV was a networks of markets and trading halls connected by corridors. Living quarters were everywhere were the market wasn´t. But the followers of the Prophet did not bother with these things anyway. Like the object of their worship, they preferred the ground as a place to sleep.
It was the evening of the fifth day, that a sinlge man ? he looked like he was wealthy and from the core worlds ? dared to approach the hooded Prophet.

?Prophet, exalted one, I am Jerold Satale and I no longer am able to stay. My wife is pregnant and will soon have her child. So I cannot go without knowing! Why? Why haven´t you spoken to us? What are we waiting for??

The Prophet raised his eyes. When his face was seen, bearded and with his intense eyes of undefinable colour two things were disturbing about him. His young age and the look on his face. Like he had seen everything.

?We wait for the Jedi, obviously.? His voice hissed. It was little more than a whisper. But for unknown reasons it could be heard in the last corner of the giant hall. Mumbling began immeditely among the crowd. Satale looked around as if he expexcted someone with a better understanding to take over. Nobody did.

?Jedi? Aren´t they all dead?? He asked. The Prophet smiled. It was like the mans ignorance amused him. He lowered his head again and his features vashied under shadow the hood cast on his face. ?When will they come??

?They are already here.? The Prophet whispered and indeed they were. Keth-Omm had entered the hall through the western gate a few minutes ago. He had felt detected immediately, by someone. Marcus Daan had come for the eastern side through the great corridor connecting the hall to the rest of the town. Both Jedi, as different as they were, had felt the irresistable need to come to Trevi IV. It had begun a month earlier and build up. The will of the force became apparent through visions and dreams. Until they began their journey. Crossing systems and secto

 

As a great Jedi Master once said: Looking into the light can be deceiving, as you forget what is present in the dark. This is more true for galactic history than for anything else. It were not only the heroes of their time and their honorable decisions and deeds that allowed the Republic to restore it´s power. There were also the dwellers of the underground. Those nobody saw and who tried to escape the galactic attention by staying in the dark. Criminals, fallen and lowlifes made millions of decisions leading to a million consequences. Some of them had been irrelevant. Some of those actually showed to be essential for the future of the Republic. And while the galaxy found some most unlikely heroes in the shadows of the undeworld, some of those hidden served a much darker purpose. For they would be the villians of their time, against who the new generation of heroes would proof itself.

From the Holocron of Jedi Master Gnost-Dural

---

[b][u][color=sienna]Trevi IV; Trevi-System; Backroom of the Cantina [i]The Crying Bird[/i][/color][/u][/b]

[b]Esool[/b] knew the planet like no other. And he knew how to make a deal. In the darkened backroom of the most popular cantina on the planet he managed his little empire like a king. In the underword of Trevi his word was law. As it was to be expected from a leader of the Exchange.

[image=http://images.wikia.com/starwars/images/4/48/Aa%27kuan.jpg]

Today though, he had taken extra measures. For a special guest was expected, to get a very special mission. Four candles were positioned in the room and four seats were there. On one of them the guest would be sitting. On a second a man in a dark overall had takne place. [b]The silent and serious man[/b] would not speak. Or identify himself. Not even Esool knew his name. But he was the reason why they were here today. The third seat was Essols. Not a throne, but a functional seat behind a huge desk. The forth was there only for the play of numbers. He was certain the guest would appreciate it. For boxes lay before him. Each having exactly 12.000 credits in it. Four datapads were attached. Four vicitms had been chosen.

The door opened and the Nikto who guarded it allowed [b]Donvan Vliet[/b] and his partner [b]Devlesa Avilan[/b] to enter the room.

?A long time no see, old friend.? Esool greeted his guest. ?Not since that mess you made on Taris, I believe.? He reminded his guest he had not forgoten about his tendency to change sides. This time he was pretty certain though, none of the victims could outbid him. Only then he turned his attention to trhe Ryn next to him. ?You must be Avilann. The Exchange has heard of you.? He announced and gestured to both men.
?Have a seat. The Exchange has work for you. Your special talents might be required. When I saw the numbers of victims I knew you would like to be offered the job first.? Esool gestured Donovan to his seat opposite to Esool. ?Four. We need you to take care of four . . .? He looked at the other man sitting in the room, who did not behave as if this had anything to do with him. In his black uniform like overall he had not bothered to greet anyone. He seemed to ignore both the Exchange Boss and the men they had invited to do their dirty work. Essol ignored him in return. ? . . problems.?

?Four problems. Requiring to be solved.? Sool repeated.

[image=http://image.eveonline.com/Character/245997919_256.jpg]

?Quickly.? That was now suddenly [b]the serious man[/b] in the black uniform speaking. ?Very quickly.?

?Exactly, quickly to solve problems. And great deal of credits. And it´s four, Donvan. C´mon, I thought you´d like it. Old one man slaughterhouse you are.? The Rodian gave a strange noise that might have been laughter. Then he looked at both men.

[b]Tag: darthramza, Bobamatt[/b]

[hr]

[color=chocolate][u][b]
Jaemus; Jaemus-System; The Rogue Cantina[/b][/u][/color]

The prime objective had been acceptable. The payment was within parameter. The target turned out to be a bit m

 

All of the above posts were written by SirakRomar and myself in a joint effort. From Thursday on one of us both will be your GM. You will see with your next update. Colours of posts indicate the storyline. Otherwise:

Once more Welcome everybody to ToRR!




The game has officially begun

 

[image=http://www.sadgeezer.com/Legacy/gallery/Dune/dune_palace.jpg]

Lyle Sevik
Trevi IV, Desert

Despite the heat of the desert, Lyle's hand was starting to hurt which he found odd. It was only when it was exposed to the cold or Lyle had to do some extra work on the trigger of one of his blasters that the fingers tended to throb with pain. Considering he was in the middle of a desert and his current job has been relatively...uneventful - Lyle didn't want to use the word relaxing -, there should be no reason for them to be bothered.

Yet they hurt. The thin bones that had been broken, the muscles that had been shredded, the tendons that had been torn; the old wounds came back to plague him with stabs of pain that he sought to ease. His right hand - spared from such agony - came up to gently rub and caress the left. Flexing the fingers, rubbing at them gently, he sought to soothe the pain that currently enveloped them.

"Sometimes its simplicity that will provide maximum effectiveness. All those tendons and joints...you just need the right pressure on the right spot and then...

Lyle found himself curling his left hand into a fist and for just a brief moment the pain stopped.

?What is that??

The voice brought Lyle back to reality. Releasing his own hand, he let both of them rest at his sides as he looked over his shoulder to his partner on this patrol: a Weequay named Belob. Like Lyle, Belob had decided to take on the job that had been offered within the great trading halls of Trevi IV that were actually not too far away behind the two of them. But whereas the human had stumbled upon Trevi IV after working a similar security gig for a freighter that had some business on the trade colony, the Weequay seemed as if he had been chased here for some personal reason that Lyle had never asked about and yet tended to cause Belob to look over his shoulder from time to time despite there being no way that anything could sneak up on them in the open plains of Trevi's deserts. Currently there wasn't anything around them; not even the annoying Trevi-rats.

Lyle had never asked what exactly it was that the Weequay was running from and never really felt the urge to do so. Though he thought that it may actually be because he knew what it was like to have memories that he would rather forget, Lyle had decided that he had long stopped caring about problems that may plague his fellow beings. For the last few years Lyle had been beaten, tortured, starved, hunted, shot, and betrayed by a lot of people, including the ones who he had thought to be allies. Those kind of things tended to make it difficult to care about whatever may bother a single Weequay when, once, Lyle had been forced to dispense with four of them during one of those nights of fear, adrenaline, blood, and death that were a common occurrence when he had been hiding.

Besides, Lyle wasn't sure how long he'd be on Trevi IV. There was nothing wrong concerning the job or anything as - despite against using the word - Lyle had to admit that his time had been rather relaxing. Hemri Casdasca and his wife Lia have been very respectable employers and their three sons were certainly no bother. When the threat of bandit attacks had started to rise, the Cadascas, a wealthy family that made their fortune with a small fleet of trading ships that transported valuable goods, had decided to hire guards in order to protect their ships, their households, and, most importantly, their family. The pay was good, definitely having the better rates than most of the jobs that Lyle had done, and the accommodations - and food - were probably the best that the human had ever been given. A normal person could probably settle down for the rest of their life with a job like this and enjoy a healthy retirement.

But Lyle? As beneficial as this job was, it was simply that: a job. And so far he had never kept a job for very long. He just stuck around, gathered what amount of credits he deemed acceptable for his current needs, and then off he was catching the next transport to another random worl

 

IC: Shirzan Narr
Telos system - Damaged transport


The walls and floors of the ship were stained with blood and carbon scoring, command consoles and machinery smouldered and sparked, damaged beyond repair. Blasters and other makeshift weapons lay discarded upon the floor, and as far as the eye could see, dead body?s littered the main cargo bay of the huge transport ship. The air was humid and thick with the smell of decay. The ship was eerily quiet, save for the irregular humming and clunking of strained engines and the ?tak tak? sound of sturdy boots on metal echoing through the large space. Through a busted out blast door, A small squad of soldiers appeared. They were dressed in white armour, the emblem of the republic emblazoned on the shoulder plating. They stopped and surveyed the grim scene before them.

?Sithspit, look?s like this is where the majority of the fighting took place?

One of the young privates hissed under his breath as he crossed the threshold into the cargo bay. His comrades also had similar degrees of shock etched on their faces. Bending down on one knee, Lieutenant Shirzan Narr remained straight faced as she carefully examined the body of a reptilian humanoid. He was of the Ereesi. He looked to have been dead a while, his body in rigor, his face frozen in a silent scream. Many horrific looking wounds littered the body of the Ereesi and the others who also lay dead around him. The Zabrak soldier mentally shook her head. It was a straightforward mission, investigate a distress call from a transport ship. But she had not expected this level of carnage.

?Just like the other decks. Whoever did this wanted the entire population of this ship wiped out?

She stated matter-of-factly, looking up at her squad-mates in order to gauge their reactions, especially those of the newer recruits. The republic forces had suffered greatly during the recent wars, their ranks decimated in the long and bloody conflicts against the Mandalorians and the Sith. What forces that remained were now overstretched, lacking personnel and resources. Now everyone had to make the best of an increasingly bad situation, which included reduced squad sizes, longer shifts and rookie soldiers being forced to take on more difficult assignments to name a few. She wanted to make sure that those under her command were coping. Standing back up, she gathered her squad around her

?Ok listen up, I want you to partner up and fan out, search for any survivors on this level?and keep your eyes open for any clues to what may have caused this massacre?

The soldiers acknowledged her orders with a ?sir yes sir? before splitting off into pairs and moving off to further investigate the battlefield that was the cargo bay. Shirzan moved down a rusted metal ramp, her blue eyes scanning the area intently. To her left she caught sight of a dim light filtering through a partially blocked door. Moving some of the debris to the side she stepped through. She noticed the light was coming from a console on the far wall. It was still operational, but just barely. The screen flickered in and out of life a few times as she tried to access the ships files. She came across a ship wide diagnostic, the vessel itself was in a bad way, running on minimal emergency power. She tried to access other files such as crew manifests and security feeds, but they were either badly corrupted or their access restricted.

?Lieutenant!?

The voice of one soldier pulled Shirzan out of her thoughts and she exited the small anteroom as he jogged over towards her, holding something in his gloved hand. A slight frown knitted across her forehead as he held it aloft. It was an energy lance. But it had a distinct design. It was an Agazdan weapon. It was no secret that the Ereesi and the Agazdan were enemies. Tension in the Kanz sector between the two races had been rife for some time. The Ereesi had terrorised the Kanz sector, ruthless pirates and cruel slavers who tormented the system. The problems became so bad that

 

Trevi IV; Trevi-City; The Chambers of Commerce

Marcus shook his head. "Why did I come here?" The city was huge, and the people crowded around him as he tried to pick his way through the great hall. It was worse in here than in the market. People still made him nervous.

He couldn't put his finger on the reason he had boarded a transport to Trevi IV. It was nothing specific, just a feeling, an irresistible drawing that urged him to come to the planet. The same urge that had led him to this building. The Force was definitely strong here, he could sense that much. There was a great presence, different than anything he had felt. It had the same feel of power and magnitude that he had sensed when he had served under Revan, but this felt neither light nor dark.

Then he stopped, all senses alert.

Another Jedi.

For years he had sought them, coming as close as he dared. Many times he had thought of rejoining them, of serving the light again. But at the last moment he always backed away, afraid to reveal what he had been. But now there was one close, very close.

Marcus moved to the edge of the hall and scanned the crowd. He could not see who it was, but he had no doubt that the Jedi was near.

Then there came a voice, "Come forth my friends. I can feel you. And many days you have wasted on your way here.? It echoed through the hall, but resounded even deeper in his mind.


TAG: dreven_Aarkanin, GM

 

ooc: My post for Ion Tarsis is above - posted by TGI. This is the introduction for a combined with TSG she has written. But hell, I wanted to post something.

Zariz
Jedi Temple, Coruscant

With a sigh of regret she looked over the Great Hall. A few Jedi, scattered over the room. Many of them of questionable origins like Brianna and Bastila´s new companion Mical, who seemed to follow her around. Trained by the Exile, the former traitor. They were no Jedi, right? Not like her or Xelon were. Even Xelon had only sparely visited the Academies. But he had gotten proper training by a true Jedi Master. She herself had numerous Masters. And Brianna Kae? Good genes and a few weeks with the Exile.

She understood why Bastila needed them. Yet, she felt most uncomfortable with them around. If she could not resist the call of the Dark Side, how could they hope to? Without proper training it seemed impossible.

She remembered the Dark Side. How it had crept into her world. How it sneaked into her soul. The smell of burned flesh. The sound of their death screams. She had hunted the Sith. Killed everyone she could find. A master and his two apprentices on Rhen Var. The spy she hadfound on Alderaan. On Pharrare. On Thustra. She had killed so many and it had brought her satisfaction. Ecstasy. With every body the darkness inside of her had feeded a bit more on her. Until she was more and more ready to join THEM. Because she felt like them. Because she lived like them. Uthar Wynn. He had been on Byblos to steal a holocron. Only later she learned he had been slain by Revan. That he had been the head of the Sith Academy. For her he was only a Sith. An invincible foe whose words dragged her deeper and deeper into the maelstrom.

She had turned her back on it. The dark years that followed . . . no not even now she dared to remember.

Now things had changed. Bastila had restored her harmony. Had made her listen to the force once more. Bastila Shan had known the darkness. All too well . . .

"So few. So few have survived. Yet none of the Sith remains." She whispered but was certain Xelon Tarn heard her. "Have we won, Xelon?" She asked and looked at the handsome young Jedi. He had fought his own war. Had always stayed true to the Jedi way.

She gave him a smile. Only for him, she had found the hope to connect with her order once more. It wasn´t love. She hoped it wasn´t. But it was a bond. A bond between Jedi. Different and the same in so many ways.

Tag: TSG for combined

 

IC: Keth-Omm
Location: Trevi-City

Shaking his head, Keth strode into the hall, checking once more the reassuring weight of the long handle lightsaber against his back. A presence had reached out to him, a powerful one. it had immediately set him on edge. one did not feel a presence of power every day. even so, the urge to come here had been irresistible. demanding, even. and so he had come, not knowing what could happen.

he put his hood up, and continued walking towards the source of the power he had felt.

and another source of power, though this one had the distinct tint of the light that he was so unused to seeing. Another Jedi? perhaps. the thought intrigued him.

he stopped as he approached the center of the raw source of power. The other Jedi was also coming close. perhaps their paths would cross as well.

suddenly words rang out, force augmented. ?Come forth my friends. I can feel you. And many days you have wasted on your way here.?

Keth took the final steps into the room to face the speaker. He was a hooded man, his face cast in shadow. another man stood beside him, but Keth could feel the force was not in him.

"Why did you summon me, stranger?"

TAG: Daan, GM

 

IC: The Man
Somewhere in the galaxy

Cool. Motion. Stillness. This was the moment. This was. . .forever. Another might of jolted into the world, but he lied there, feeling, unknowing. There was the fresh scent that caressed his nostrils, filling them with the tale of missed rain that fell not long ago. There was the pressures of hundreds of blades of grass struggling against him to raise up once more, or if not to rise to at least yet give his offending form a knowing brush that he had flattened them.

Eyes slowly open, the blue and white greeted his eyes whilst raining down their assault with the glaring of the sun. A slow turn and the grass? greenness is revealed in all it?s hilly splendor. A lack of beings like himself shone starkly in its continence, just as starkly as the glint from the ancient blaster pistol by his side. Six chambers, five shots, unwieldy and impersonal without the preference of his own of the blade.

He preferred a blade? Yes.

Grey and black, contrasted harshly with the bed upon which he rested, but seemed to call in their similitude to that of the blaster. No markings, no symbols. What good are such if there is no one. . .

Ah, what a little height reveals, there are others. This planet has life, he is not alone after all. Planet? Planet.

Names, nothing but names. Recognitions leading nowhere within the motes of their own belongings. Names: Blaster, Pistol, Blade, People, Planet, Grass! But what am I?

Who am I?

Standing there he rose one boot, than another as he found whether if that void that was his knowing yet knew how to get from here to there. Perhaps. . .

TAG: Sirak

 

Donvan "Captain" Vliet
Trevi IV; Trevi-System; Backroom of the Cantina The Crying Bird

Four candles. Four boxes. Four datapads. Four targets. Four chests. Four people.

Six groups.

Well, ultimately it was the thought that counted, the Captain realized with a subtle smirk, and he'd certainly taken jobs from people who paid far less attention to his affinity for The Number. Besides, he knew Esool... and, more importantly, Esool knew him. And, even more importantly, Esool knew what he was capable of. Taris had been a particularly ugly reversal where his employer had been outbid by four hundred credits - the target had managed to scrape it together doing who knows what, and so it had been Vliet's rather unfortunate duty to inform his previous boss that their contract had been terminated. This involved, as it often did, a rather nasty fall out of a four-hundredth story window following a nice, clean burst of four blaster shots to the forehead. Of course, what Vliet hadn't counted on were the guards - all twenty seven of them. This totaled up to twenty eight total kills, which Vliet found most appropriate.

So much so, in fact, that he nearly hadn't killed the former target when he came up 30 credits short.

Nearly.

"Four people. 48000 credits. Ah, Esool, my old friend, you know me very well indeed." He reached into his coat and pulled out a tabac cigarra, one of the eight that he liked to keep on his person, and put it in his mouth. "You mind if I smoke? I'm afraid this rasp doesn't maintain itself." He reached into his coat again and pulled out a small, gold-colored lighter. "... I didn't think so."

He lit the cigarra. "Quick I can do. You're going to find, however, that the quicker I get something done the uglier it might get." One exhale of smoke.

"So I'm not guaranteeing it'll stay on the down low. I'll try my best, naturally." Two exhales of smoke.

"But, y'know, you can only keep an explosion or a headless corpse suddenly dropping on a city street so subtle, dig?" Three exhales of smoke.

"In exchange for that understanding, I'll be a real good sport about this one and demand over 48k from any given victim, rather than 12k. I'm just a big softie like that." Four exhales of smoke.

TAG: TGI, Matt

 

IC: Marcus Daan
Location: Trevi-City[

Marcus's first instinct told him to run; he should never have come here. But without knowing why, he stayed where he was, glancing back and forth between the strange man who had spoken and the hooded Jedi who had entered opposite himself.

He felt somewhat foolish. He had purposefully avoided wearing Jedi robes for some time, choosing instead to wear simple traveler's clothes under a long tan coat. By now of course the clothes were worn and the coat tattered, so he looked more like a refuge than a knight. He had finally started to get used to the role, although at times he still felt conspicuous when wanted to blend in with the crowd.

How stupid, he now thought to himself. To think that he could conceal his own Force presence from another Force user. The strange man had spoken directly into his thoughts, and the Jedi surely knew he was here.

He slowly stepped forward. There was the Jedi; but he also appeared to be focused on this strange man.

"Why did you summon me, stranger?" the Jedi said.

Marcus folded his arms across his chest, carefully concealing one hand under his coat within close reach of the lightsaber tonfa strapped to his belt.

"Who are you?" he asked, glancing from one to the other.

TAG: dreven_Aarkanin, GM

 

ooc: I LOVED THAT INTRO!

Xelon Tarn &

Zariz

Jedi Temple

(combined between Fin and me who felt it was most logical to begin ur story like this)

"Have we won, Xelon?" Zariz had this look again. Self doubt. Xelon knew it too wel. He was trained to look for it. Trained to see any hint of it. With a smile, a sad smile he turned towards his fellow Jedi. "Certainly." He said and nodded. A sigh escaped and he turned towards the assembled Jedi. As few as they were, the hall semeed alive. In the force.
Zariz waited for further explanations. He knew it. He would be honest to her.

"And now we find out what happens after the happy end. The rocky road to peace. The darkness we brought with us from all the dark places we visited. The things we lost and how they do not come back. The long way into harmony. And all our problems who become relevant again, once the fight for survival has ended. You know what? It is my first time on Coruscant." He had used the sudden change of toic consciously.

Insecurity in an enemy was something he masterfully could exploit. In a friend it was reason for concern. And he felt as if that was something he wasn´t that good in.

"You´re kidding me. A diplomat of a Jedi who never was here?" She looked at him and he smiled. He shook his head. "My Master preferred the Outer Rim. Dantooine we visited regulary. Daban. Kelos. Sometimes we spend month on Lianna. But never Coruscant." Turning his head towards Zariz he gave her a look probably not totally apprpriate for a Jedi, but with an ironic smile.
"In the retrospective it isn´t surprising he wanted to train me far away from the academy."

"Really?" Zariz answered. She felt his eyes and she liked it, although she knew she would never give in to it. The possibility made her feel . . . sane, normal. "We would probably not have been good enough for you, hm?"

"No. No no no." He raised his hands. "It´s just . . . now that I know you I am almost certain that studying with you would have been a source of many distractions." He gave her his most boyish smile. Zadiz turned her head and raised her brows in surprise.

"Are you flirting with me Jedi Knight Tarn?" She said and she did an awfully bad effort ot make it sound as if it was accusing.

"Certainly not. As a Jedi I do not flirt. Obviously!" He replied and folded her arms. "Most obviously, my dear." He said then in his most blank and serious tone.

"Obviously. Well what is it you´re doing then?" Zariz stepped closer. "Jedi Knight Xelon Tarn?" She smiled and looked directly into his eyes. She felt a bit nervous, actually. But they were to far into hte game now.

"Well. I am a trained diplomat. Maybe I am just trying to find your weak spot?" He offered as an explanation. Her coming closer made him visibly nervous, yet he tried to hide that.

"By flirting?" She asked once more. He could not help but return her smile. It was infectious. Yet, he still tried to keep his line of defense in order. Although he guessed, this battle could not be won.

"By pretending I was flirting, of course." He said. "Pretending is the word here!"

Zadiz considered it for a moment. "I see. Flattery. Actually you might have found my first weakness, Jedi Knight Tarn. Good for you. Because you´ll never beat me iwth a lightsaber."

"Good to know." Xelon replied. "Both of it, actually." With a nod he was surprised she hadn´t pushed farther. Surprised? No, he was . . . dissappointed.

"Your good at it. If I might add that." Zariz said and stepped one step down hinting she was about to make her way into the hall. Xelon stayed where he was, with a smile playing around his lips he looked down to her.

"I was trained by one of the greatest diplomats of all . . ." He began, but she never allowed him to end the sentence.

"No, I didn´t mean that. I mean at flirting." This time it was her turn to grin as she turned her head towards the gates. Before he could reply she walked down the stairs to greet the recently arrived Padawan. Xelon looked after her and smiled. He already liked bein

 

IC: Alema Vao
Coruscant, Office of Senator Lyria of Byblos

Senatorial Aide Vao smoothed out any wrinkles that were visible on her form-fitting white gown and glided into the office of her new employer, the Senator of Byblos. She liked how it seemed to bring out the brilliance of her skin tone, but yet it was not over revealing. The shrewd politician made her wardrobe choice for her first official day to give the Senator the impression that she was a consummate professional, not just a piece of eye-candy.

Her former employer, the Senator from Ryloth, had hinted at the fact that he was going to ask her to become more than just an aide. However Alema knew that his aspirations were limited to maintaining his current position for the foreseeable future. She had bigger plans for her political career than just planetary representation. She wanted to eventually become the Chancellor?s Vice-Chair, if not Chancellor herself.

And she knew that Lady Lyria Adrimar wanted to become Chancellor, so placing herself next to the ambitious Senator was the obvious move for her.

The shapely aide floated past the two heavy guards, which stood on either side of the entrance, as if they were not even present and stood, palms out, with her eyes to the ground and her head slightly inclined. This demonstrated that she station in the office superseded theirs, but still gave the Senator the respect that was owed her.

?Alema. Good you have come.? Lyria sighed and stepped closer to the Twi´lek aide. With a nod the two heavy guards left the room.

She stood straight up with her hands, pressed together at the fingertips, lying naturally in front of her.

?I am off to a meeting with the Security Council in a minute. But I have a special task for you. One you might find especially well suited to your abilities.? With a nod Lyria pointed to a datapad on her desk. ?This Prince of Tion is a wild card. No matter what people hope or fear, truth is, we know next to nothing about him. I want you to change that. Set up a meeting with him. Try to get around security and secretaries and reach out directly to him. No matter how you do it, I need an idea of what he is up to. If he cannot be estimated directly, I probably will know someone who can help. But only use him when absolutely necessary. He is an old friend of mine. He is the former Chancellor Lombardo. Tell him I sent you and he will talk. But be warned his brain is still sharp, his tongue even more so and he likes to play games. Use him only as your last resort.? Lyria handed Alema the datapad.

Alema accepted and looked at the datapad the Senator had offered to her. A holo of the Prince of Tion was visible on the display. Alema was vaguely familiar with the name of the Allied Tion sector, but that was it, just the name.

?Can you do this for me? It would be a shame if we needed to delay any longer to reach our goals because of some backwater Prince, right??

The Twi?lek scrolled through the file on the Prince and looked for a time in his schedule where she could affect an ?informal? meeting with the good Prince. She already was formulating in her mind the outfit she was going to wear and exactly how she was going to get around his handlers. A slight grin spread across her flawless features. ?It would be my pleasure, Lady Adrimar. I will handle this pressing matter with the utmost urgency and subtlety.?

?We shall meet tonight, here. I´ll await you at midnight.?

Once again Alema slightly bowed her head and curtsied towards the Senator, ?By your leave, milady.? The lithe girl turned and exited the office with the same grace that she had entered it moments ago.

TAG: TGI/SR

 

IC: Ashlae Starchaser
The City of Parzin, Argazdan

The galaxy felt like it was spinning around and around, according to Ashlae Starchaser. She felt so disconnected from everything since she had watched her Jedi Master being killed by a Mandelorian. Then in turn she killed her master's murderer. It was an exhilarating feeling, killing someone yet she knew it was wrong. But was it really wrong? The Mandelorian was the enemy and he had to be taken down or else she would have been killed as well. She wondered if this is how Revan felt when he had disregarded the Jedi Council's wishes to enter the Mandelorian Wars. A justice that had to be done, no matter what the consequences were. She took it just as that an absolute justice.

Still it didn't make her feel any better. She had drifted from planet to planet trying to find some answers to this continuing confusion that was inside of her. She didn't even realize she left the Republic until she caught a freighter to Argazdan. This was not a place she wanted to be. From the look of the border control even a fool could tell that a war may be imminent. Getting out won't be easy and she didn't want to get caught up in whatever turmoil that was going on. She had her own turmoil to deal with.

Walking around the desert city of Prazin, Ashlae could tell that the people were relatively peaceful and welcoming to each other and the very few alien guest that were there. The aliens were nothing like she ever seen before. They were quite exotic. The Argazden people seem to accept them. She noticed the people to prayed a lot, which was something Ashlae was not used to. "Oh great religious freaks" she said to herself as she continued to tour the city. As the people prayed, she saw men who she figured to be priests in weird masks leading the prayers.

Something didn't seem right to her. Something out of place though Ashlae didn't know what it was. She could sense the people's mistrust toward her as if she was a threat. Why she had no idea. It suddenly dawned on her that maybe the fact she was a Jedi is why the people looked at her the way they did. Most of the hostility were from some masked people who were wearing red robes, body armor beneath it and long lances, which had a blade and an integrated blaster within. Definitely not priests thought Ashlae as she continued walking.

She approached what appeared to be a marketplace. When Ashlae entered it, there was a man in a golden robe and one of the masks everybody was wearing. He stood on a hovering repulsor sled above a crowd of visitors and was obviously announcing something or preaching. His voice, thundered over the marketplace.

?Hear the word of Mother Myrial! The Regent and voice of our Goddess! In blood we paid respect to our holy Guardian and in blood she shall return the gifts given to her. For every child born between today and the forth cycle of the moon Krabat shall be brought before our Prophetess to be blessed with the mark of Via!? The people applauded. ?My child! She will get the Mark!? A woman nearby cried out in joy.

"Myrial" that name sounded familiar, though for the life of her she could not remember where she heard it. Her mind was wandering trying to think about where she heard the name before, when the force trembled slightly and directed her attention towards an elder man who looked at her. He stared at her. Next to him stood a young man, who was preparing to put his robes on. A mask lay next to him. Blue robes. A priest. The man was her about her age, tattoos all over his face. The old man made him aware of Ashlae´s presence and he looked up. Smiling at her he nodded to her, as if he knew her.

It caught her off guard, because she did not know this man nor did she feel that this was a friendly jester. Not wanting to let on about her uneasiness she gave a friendly smile back.

TAG: TGI

 

Jedi Temple on Coruscant
Karn Fell

"A meditation?"Karn thought, more like a nightmare. "No Master Bindo, not peace." Karn looked for the right ways to express his visions. They made him afraid, but he couldn't show that, his heritage and pride demanded that of him. They also brought him anger, Karn wasn't known to fail in his tasks, and his visions showed him paying the ultimate price for failure."

Master Bindo, I have been having, visions, recently, regarding a planet I can not determine and an event I am unfamiliar with, but these visions I have are of both myself, and some one I know, or think I have known. They are of pain, suffering, death. What does this mean?" Karn asked with caution. He was an outsider among the "proper" jedi padawans, being as he had been found out in the wild, a vigilante Jedi, who in some sense returned home.

Then Karn noticed the female jedi who had entered the room. "Master Shan, a pleasure to see you again. Perhaps you can help me solve the puzzle of my visions."

Tag: TGI or others.

 

ooc: Littledawg, please do not move people into your scene if they weren´t included by the GM or if they did so themselves. Bastila is, according to the updates - nowhere near the Meditation Chamber. But I´ll make her pass through this time.


Bastila Shan
Jedi Temple Meditation Chamber

Bastila had passed the meditation chamber, where she had heard Master Bindo´s voice. He was obviously discussing visions with his fellow Jedi. Karn Fell, she recalled his name. Although she was pretty sure to know little other than his name. Too many unknown faces. She did not have the luxury of centuries of training Jedi, which lead to knowing most by them at least by reputation. She had followed Revan around, had fought and practically trained on Dantooine when she hadn´t. From Dantooine few Jedi were left. Darth Malak had made very sure of it.

"A vision? I had many of these. Some brought inside, some only darkness. A glimpse into the future can always be useful, I think. It can always be enlightening. But it can be a curse. Believe me, I saw my future and I did not always like it. What you can do about it?" Bastila looked at Jolee Bindo. The old man smiled. Then nodded. "Like a giant slug from the Calesio fields, I´d say. The future arrives anyway. Nothing you can do about it. Having seen a glimpse of it, doesn´t mean you have understood it, Jedi Fell. It just means you seen a little piece of it." He nodded reassuring. "And half of those visions never come to pass anyway. A wiser Jedi master would mumble something about future n motion, I assume. I tell you . . . I do not believe in being predictable." And with that he turned to Bastila.

"Ready?"

"Why does everyone ask me if I am ready today?" She laughed and shook his head. "Jedi Fell, why don´t you join us? I am about to speak to the Jedi."

And she turned and continued her descent into the great hall.

Tag: Littledawg (I´ll arrive when everybody had the chance to update)

---

[b]EVERYONE on Trevi IV and Tion Hegemony. My update comes tonight. [/b]

 

Cut-Scene



There was no meeting.

The room was suddenly illuminated by four holographic projections. It was a hidden room on an irrelevant planet. It was housed by a simple communications relay station. Once the meeting was over the station would fall victim to a fatal malfunctionining of it´s small energy generator and explode. The untraceable signals of the four people meeting here would cease to exist in any record. As if they never had existed in the first place. And the sole servant who arranged all this would have a terribly airlock incident. There would be no trace, no track, no sign of a meeting between the Four. It would be as if no meeting would have taken place.

There was no meeting.

The first to appear was a bald headed man in his thrities, who dragged his hood over his face just as he appeared in the room. To his right a human woman faded into existence. Slim, lean, with a sharp shin that was all that appeared beenath her own hood. Opposite to the bald-headed man, left to the woman the talled of the four appeared. An alien which did not bother to hide it´s face.

[image=http://images1.wikia.nocookie.net/__cb20091027133456/starwars/images/0/0f/Taung.jpg]

A forth man appeared and smiled as he saw the other three assembled. an air of arrogance and superiority played around his features.

[image=http://images.wikia.com/starwars/images/7/78/Akku.jpg]

When they spoke their lips seemmed not to move. All of their projections obviously not showing the whole truth.

"The Heir?"

"Taken care of."

"Personally. I did not see any request for an agent by you."

"I used of my own."

"I thought we agreed not to use them!" The woamn´s voice sounded angry.

"We agreed not to use them unless necessary."

"And you decide when it is necessary?"

"Enough. He did what he did. The Exchange. What about the Exchange?" This voice was low and raspy.

"They seem to use a minor Boss on Trevi IV to organize a hunt."

"For who?" The woman again.

"For us?"

"For who they think we are, at best."

"Do not underestimate them. They are as skilled in deception as we are. We need to make sure our operation is secure. It is critcal no disturbance occurs." That was the raspy voice again.

A long silence.

"Who do we send?" The woman asked then.

"One of your own agents." Raspy voice obviously was amused.

"Certainly." A male voice replied.

"We cannot . . ." The woman.

"Risk annything. And his agents will never be assosciated with us." The raspy voice drowned her protest.

"Right. Right. To the galaxy a Sith . . ." The voice had not yet spoken. A fifth voice.

"Is only a Sith!"

The holograms died down and a minute later the station blew up. Just as the Agent smiled he heard the airlock close and screamed for his life, as the countdown to depressurize began.

Ten minutes later there was no sign of a meeting.

There was no meeting.

Tag: Nobody,/b] although it might be off intterest to people on Trevi and Coruscant.

 

Myrial - The Temple of Via - Argazdan - Kanz Sector

Her son sliced through the third Ereesi and the reptilian creature dropped to the ground. Two of his brothers were already lying there, awaiting him in their bizarre final reunion.
The dying Ereesi opened his mouth to scream and his sharp tongue came slicing out of his mouth and was dead before the air escaped his lungs. The final Ereesi hissed at Iliac of Argazdan and his blade howled through the air a few more times.

Iliac grinned and stepped back. Both times the blade was directed at him it missed him. "So that is a great warrior, hm? That is the proud Ereesi who have come to raid our planet, rape our wifes and take our possessions?" Iliac showed a disgusted smirk and attacked. Two time the blades met until he had found the opening he needed. With deadly precision he stabbed into the mans side and withdrew his blade again. Holding his double bladed weapon in both hands he pushed hard against the wounded enemies defense and the reptilians sword flew through the air. Breathing only a bit more heavy than usual Iliac of Argazdan stood over his defeated enemy.

"I curse you, pinkie!" The Ereesi hissed and Iliac smiled. "You hold no power to curse anyone in the damain of my Godess, you animal." He said and raised his double blade. "General Mako, tell me how many Ereesi have we left alive?" The General stood at the side of the fighting circle that was isolated from the rest of the room by energy barriers. Lowered into the ground it appeared to have originally been menat ot be a pool. Now the prisoners knew it as the Pit. The place they faced the third son of Myrial in a fight to life and death.

"He is the last one, my Lord." The General answered laughing. Iliac´s brother Balazar stood next to the elder man and grinned as he saw his ounger brother killed the thing. "Probably the last one in the galaxy!" He sighed in relief.

"Heard that?" Iliac asked the Ereesi. Tears ran from the creature eyes and then the blade came down to behead him. It did not fail in it´s purpose.

Clapping from above Myrial slowly began to decend from her viewpoint above. Her hands slowly departing and returning to each other. "It is done b my sons hand!" She gratulated Iliac. A glance at Balazar showed all his jealousy. He had every right to it. Because Iliac came after his father. And for Myrial who had survived both fathers of her two sons this was something special. She tepped to her son and gently touched Iliac´s face. He closed his eyes, enjoying the gentle touch. Her hand continued to his flawless bod which was hard as steel. A smile appeared on her tattoed face.

"My mother and her favourite son!" Balazar tried to disturb the scene. Myrial shook her hand, looking at her son with nothing but pride and love in her eyes.

"Not I favour your brother, Balazar. The Goddess does. He is her favourite." Myrial smiled one last time at Iliac who smiled back. Then her head turned to Balazar. "Don´t you see it?" She asked and her voice was cold now. Unforgiving.

Balazar only nodded. "Well, the favourite of the Goddess has not prepared bold new steps to secure the dominance and glor of our temple over all of Kanz. So maybe you could give someone of lesser esteem a moment to discuss our plans?" Balazar´s voice was like acid. Myrial onl smiled.

"Certainly. Certainly." She said to her eldest son and turned towards him. Iliac breathed in as his servant gave him hi robes back. The red robes of a warrior. He obviously had something to say.

"Yes, my son?" Myrial turned back to him and asked.

Iliac looked to his feet. With a wave of his hand he send the servant away. She was also his lover they said and yet he showed her no respect. "Mother." He began as if he did not know how to say it. "The Goddess has send me a vision. In my dreams I saw someone." He said and looked at her borther. Balazar seemed not satisfied with his brother´s approach. "Don´t you know how to call a wet dream apart from a vision, brother? It is probably nothing, mothe

 

IC:
Paladin Halcyon - Entrance Hall of the Jedi Temple, Coruscant


Paladin Halcyon passed over the threshold. Home, he thought. Well, that wasn?t quite right. Corellia was home. Master Ramunee was home. But he had answered the beacon, he could not ignore Bastila Shan?s urgent summons to all Jedi, and so he had left Corellia. And Master Ramunee? well, of her, not a trace was left. She had answered a summons like this one, when Master Atris had called her meeting on Katarr. Yes, not a trace was left; she had been swallowed by that black hole, Darth Nihilus.

There was a woman in white and grey before him. He sensed something? different about her. More raw, unfocused than those approved as Jedi Knights. And yet, the way she held herself, her sense of authority, all proclaimed her as a Knight. This puzzled him: How could one so new to the Force be a Knight already? The idea was not a welcome one, for he had spent years trying to attain what this woman apparently achieved so easily.

She spoke to him. ?Welcome back, Padawan. You have come alone?? Her smile and words were welcoming enough, but he thought he sensed more behind them, although perhaps he was imagining it.

Alone. How that stung. What was more, he sensed a certain condescension in her question, as if in saying ?Padawan,? she had called him ?boy.? He struggled to suppress the flare of anger this caused, as she greeted a couple of Twi?leks.

She turned back to him. She was still smiling, but her gaze was as cold as ice. He shivered. ?Where is your Master?? she asked.
She cannot know your pain, let it pass. ?I regret to say that she is dead, and has been for more than three years now.?

I hope my first impression is wrong about this one?, he thought. As he waited for her response, he spied another Jedi making her way down toward them from one of the observation balconies.


TAG: TheGoodImperial, DarkLordoftheFins