Star Wars Star Wars: Reversion To the Old (accepting new player)

Vorath Din
Shadow of the Saarlac

Vorath sighed in relief as Quin answered. "He's okay" he thought, feeling a huge weight being released. "Hey" Quin said. He sounded exhausted, but Vorath began speaking almost immediately. "Quin, I'm going to get right to the point here. Serenno isn't safe anymore. Lord Freke is at the very least an extremely powerful dark jedi. This could even be a resurgence of the Sith." He knew he needed to be honest with Quin, especially with what he would ask of him "I'm not sure how someone of this power went beneath my notice for so long, even with his artifact cutting him off from the force."

Now for the hard part. "However he got here, I'm leaving the planet before too long and I want you to come with me." He gave a slight pause, he thought Quin would need a moment to let that sink in "I'm leaving for Korriban, where I can hopefully find out where the Sith went, and in what number." Vorath began getting caught up in what he was saying. Quin deserved the full truth from him, including his plans and mindset about the task ahead. "We should learn everything we possibly can as quickly as possible. This has the potential to become a full-scale galactic conflict..."

TAGS: Sam Hellbent

 

Quin Cerone
Serenno, Carannia
Quin's apartment

"STOP!!!"

Quin isn't the type to interrupt people, but right now he just didn't feel like he had any choice in the matter. His body just did it out of reflex, due to his psyche being assaulted so thoroughly in the last few hours. After the incident at the plaza Quin couldn't take any more stress. But whether Vorath knew it or not, that's just what he was providing. "Serenno isn't safe", "extremely powerful dark jedi", "resurgence of the Sith", and finally "full-scale galactic conflict". There were too many new concepts that Quin just wasn't ready to handle right now. Not after what he just went through.

Vorath is silent after Quin's little outburst, Most likely stunned that Quin actually lashed out like that. Quin lets out a deep sigh before he continues, remembering that he's talking to a life long friend, then he continues with a far sadder tone.

"I'm sorry, but.... i just don't think its a good idea for me to leave with you, ok? If your worried about my safety, don't be. I have one of the most secure homes on serenno, not to mention nobody besides you knows that I live here, including the staff of the building."

"Besides, i'm just a technician. I'm not the kind of person you should want helping you, especially for something as important as this. I'd probably just get in the way......"

"Look, i have to go now. I really have to get back to my work. I wish i could help you more but i.... i just.... i just can't." Quin immediately closes the communication. He knew he should have let Vorath get a word in, but right now Quin felt too ashamed to talk with him any longer.

Quin spends the rest of his day mostly lost in thought. He glances out the window and finds that if he squints his eyes he can see the smoke from the plaza bombing in the distance. Quin try's to get his mind on something else. He picks up a spare data-pad from one of his storage units to replace his old one, the one that was now just a pile of bits and pieces on the ground. Interspersed with those pieces were pieces of his old *SFG*.

Somewhere in that pile of wires and metal, a small tracking dart remains unbroken, sending its signal loud and clear.

Tags: SonOfCyn LordOfHunger

 

Vorath Din
Shadow of the Saarlac
"STOP!!!"

Vorath stopped, recoiling slightly at the outburst from Quin. As Quin spoke, he realized that how much he had asked of his friend. This would be way too much for the introverted inventor to take in at once. Quin tapered out, and hung up before he had a chance to respond. The words "Quin, wait" died in his throat. He would have to apologize to him later. At least Quin still had the holocron he had created. He hoped Quin would at least remember to deliver that to the Jedi if he failed in the days ahead. Vorath, stepped away from the console, crestfallen.

A muffled voice came from under the folds of his robe. He had forgotten completely forgotten he had carried Nihilus around with him all day. He pulled the holocron out to place it back in his home, when the Sith projected his image. Nihilus filled the room with his guttural language, reveling in the carnage he had sensed earlier at the square. Vorath let him ramble, heading back to his quarters. He would need to meditate before he went to sleep. He sat on the floor, Pushing until he floated several feet in the air. He began clearing his mind, until his only thought remaining was I'm too old to be fighting the Sith, and that thought too was banished.

Tags: Sam Hellbent, Any other faithful listeners

 

Rickant Urithan
Serenno, Carannia

From inside his airspeeder, Rickant stared at his datapad and mulled over the data his tracker was broadcasting. The tracker hadn't moved for some time now, which Rickant decided meant the stranger from the street, whomever he might be, was likely at his residential address given the time of day. Rickant powered up his airspeeder and set a course to the tracker's location. The sun was setting and given the days events, much of the population was staying locked up indoors. Through his datapad, Rickant pulled up the floor plans on his mark's location. A residential complex, several stories high, and well populated. However as he studied the layouts and floor plans Rickant couldn't help but note the odd detail that the stranger's fifty neighboring rooms were vacant.

This whole scenario seemed to only be evolving into something stranger every minute. A total stranger with a high quality cloaking device somehow unearthing and identifying a military grade explosive, before attempt to disperse the crowd with a firearm and then returning to a residence totally isolated from other people. Who was he? A shut-in? A merc? Why did he want to be separated from the populace? Was his work illegal or contraband?

Yet at the same time, much of what he had seen and was now discovering didn't paint this man as some kind of a professional. Rickant honestly wasn't sure what was more probable, that someone was aware of Animus' plans and had agents set against them, or that this stranger was just a nobody, a shut-in who got lucky. Either way, Rickant couldn't simply leave the stranger be, he had far to much invested into Animus' game.

Rickant opened a compartment in the console and began assembling a stowed tranquilizer rifle. The course of action seemed clear. Capture the stranger and bring him to the orbalisk for interrogation. If he was part of some organized effort to counter the dark lord then whatever information the human held could well be essential to staying ahead of their foes. If the man was innocent, then Rickant could deal with that later. Either way. capturing the mark would likely be effortless under the current condition.

Rickant started to open up a com link, intending to contact Animus. However, after a moments hesitation, he withdrew the effort. Rickant still couldn't rule out the notion that this man was just a nobody. If he was, Animus would likely hate that his Gre-gor had wasted both of their time. The target could be easily captured before he was due to return to the orbelisk anyways. If this little side project ended up being nothing more than a waste of time, said time wasn't going to have been very productive anyways.

The tranquilizer was assembled and the shuttle en route. The details and the fine tuning could come when he had positioned himself and the airspeeder outside the complex. Rickant took a deep breath and followed with a long exhaled to focus his mind. The stress of his situation was beginning to take its toll but Rickant remained confident that his skills would not fail him. This mission, whatever the circumstances, would play out like they always had.

It would be quite.

It would be quick.

And it would be clean.

Tag: Sam Hellbent Exar Koon anyone ready for an epic showdown

 

Quin Cerone
Serreno, Carannia
Quin's apartment, middle of the night

Quin's thoughts drifted as he entered what would most likely be another sleepless night. Usually Quin's insomnia is caused by more traditional means, but tonight was different. Tonight Quin's sleep deprivation would be the result of an unpleasant mix of guilt and anxiety plaguing him, the product of a day filled with nothing but thinking about the terrible things he'd seen and heard of. Usually he'd be thinking of some sort of new schematic or design this time of night, a pleasant contemplative state that he was really missing right now. A time without having to worry about any sort of conspiracies, or resurgences of the Sith , or galactic conflicts.

Quin supposed it would hopefully go back to how it used to be for him very soon though. He wondered if Vorath would forgive him for not going to with him to Korriban. "And why shouldn't he?" Quin thought, trying to defend his actions logically. "I got Vorath everything he needed, i told him everything he needed to know, Iv'e been nothing but helpful. I wouldn't be of any use to him if i did leave with him anyway. I'm just a technician, not some planet jumping Sith chaser with a death wish. I don't have anything to feel remotely sorry for."

Quin Wasn't fooling himself one bit. He was a spineless coward. Someone who couldn't even stick with the one real friend he actually had. Quin tosses on his side, the knot in his gut tightening.

Tags: SonOfCyn

 

Rickant Urithan
Serreno, In an idling XJ-3 Airspeeder
Perpendicular to Quins apartment, 261.295 meters away.

Rickant calmly adjusted the scope on his rifle. He sighed. He never truly enjoyed killing from this sort of distance, and this time he wasn't even given that privilege. He felt like an alien observer, staring in upon a world he neither knew nor cared about. Rickant had no idea who this guy was. Why was he even here?

But Rickant knew in the back of his mind very damn well why. Whoever this stranger was he had not only detected, identified, and tried to disarm a high-grade military thermite charge, he had also been cloaked and armed (however poorly). Any and every possible lead should be followed, no matter how insignificant seeming, to its end. There was no room for error. Did he have prior knowledge of the kill mission on Serreno? Was he aware of Animus' machinations, and if he was, were there others who would oppose him?

Rickant was doubtful of any of these musings, but it still could not be left to chance. There could be no unaccounted for variables. Too much was at stake.

But even that knowledge couldn't keep Rickant from remaining skeptical of this lead's value. He looked in upon the cluttered apartment. Such an erratic mess of tech seemed to be the home of some manic inventor or at the very least a tech enthusiast. Anyone could easily tell by just a glance, let alone Rickant who was an expert at examining any and all environments for clues. Rickant could use his deduction skills for one more conclusion though, one so easy it made his years of practice seem like a waste. He could tell the person in question wasn't a particularly competent inventor. The wealth of unfinished trash on the floor, and the scrapped together design of the majority of the stuff that was finished tipped him off to that.

Maybe this was just some dead end. It certainly was starting to seem like it. Maybe whoever this guy is just some paranoid conspiracy theorist who enjoyed taking his morning strolls protected by a personal cloaking device…..

Rickant started to remember why he was checking this guy again. No matter how you cut it, this guy was just plain at too wrong of a place at too precise of a time, hidden by a piece of tech not too many people had privy access too.

Rickant double checked the sights on his rifle once more.

Tag: @Sam Hellbent

 

Quin Cerone
Quin's apartment

Quin was just staring at the ceiling at this point. He had now exhausted all of the recent subjects that were serious enough to think or worry about. Now it was just him, alone, trying to piece together the unparalleled truths of this small chunk of roof over his head, and Quin had a feeling that him and this sight were going to get well acquainted tonight.

He glanced at the room around him, his eyes eventually fixating on the schematics for the smoke grenade he made for Vorath, still laid out on his work bench. "Hopefully Vorath will get some mileage out of that at least..." Quint thought. That gave Quin an idea. "Maybe Vorath hasn't left the planets orbit yet. Maybe i can make something else to give him before he leaves for Korriban. At least i'l be helping him out more in some small way."

But Quin knew he couldn't do that. He just didn't have the backbone to be able to look Vorath in the eyes tomorrow, let alone give him anything.

Tags: SonOfCyn

 

Rickant Urithan In an idling XJ-3 Airspeeder
Perpendicular to Quins apartment, 261.283 meters away.

Rickant decided that the calibrations for the rifle were satisfactory. He glanced at the weapon in tow, a pristine tranquilizer rifle if ever there was one. He had already double and triple checked the weapons maximum firing range. He could back his airspeeder up precisely 38.7 meters and still be completely able to make the shot. For something like this absolute positioning wasn’t necessary and he just couldn’t be bothered. He knew he wasn’t going to miss this. He'd made countless impossible shots over his career; he certainly wasn't going to miss some shut-in introvert lying curled up in his bed. He had the high ground, total vision, no adverse weather conditions, and perfect marksmanship skills.

He set the display on his visor to thermal, and finally began to scope in his target. There he was, tossing and turning in his bed. Rickant moved the crosshair to a position that covered the most probabilities in the little insomniac’s movement. The rifle was ready, and so was the ammunition. A small metallic shell encased the dart, allowing for the dart to barrel cleanly through panes of glass. After initial glass impact, the metal shell disjoints and all that remains is the dart itself, now unobstructed from its mission.

Rickant’s finger caressed the trigger, an easy shot if there ever was one. He took one last look at his prey. “Stranger, whoever you are…” Rickant thought “You might just be the unluckiest kid in all of Serreno.”

A silenced shot rings out. Pristine and perfect sounding in the dead of night.

 

Rena Vanesk
The Va'nar, in orbit near Muunilinst

Rena listened to Master Garon's reply. She was not surprised by his response, considering the plan he had offered to them.

["I do not like this plan. I see this as a stall for time that we may not have. However, seeing how I am outnumbered, I will allow you two to proceed. However, if this plan doesn't work, I will insist that we fall back on mine."] He paused, then continued, ["The two of you can work out the details while I send my report to the Council. I will follow your ships when the time comes."]

And with that, he was gone. Rena rubbed her forehead, as she closed her eyes for a moment, letting her emotions flow into the Force. She then took a seat, and spoke into her ships comms.

["Captain Zander. We have a bit of time, before we approach Serenno. I should be able to put something into play by then, for Im sure this Lord Freke will check your references. I will check my sources about the current issues on Serenno, to attempt to set up something that will seem genuine enough. I will do this, as you contact your own private leads."] Rena shook her head. ["There is something going on. Why come out here, collect funds, and then leave such a trail behind? Why kill? Not unless you WANT someone to notice you. It is another reason to not show our hand so easily."]

Rena moved, and gently slipped into the pilots seat. ["Captain, I leave it in your capable hands to lead the way, while we work on our leads. If you can think if anything else I might have forgotten, please feel free to let me know. Unless something happens, I shall work on my own leds, and provide you the cover story shortly. Anything else?"]

Rena would wait to hear whatever other concerns that Captain Zander might have, as she prepared her ships hyperdrive to begin their trip to Serenno.




Tags: Spatz, (KnightBalgost)

 

IC: Bara Gwy’nedd
Aboard the Derelkoos, on route to The Orbalisk

Bara sat alone in the cockpit of his freighter feeling a little uncomfortable. No matter what he did he couldn’t find relief. This was not a physical problem. Something pricked his heart, like a tiny needle. The Klatooinian rose and retreated into his training room. He shouldn’t feel remorse or any pain about what transpired on Serenno. Many lives where ended and he could sense the darkness on the horizon, this is what he wanted. Why did he not rejoice? Why could he not laugh at the misery he caused? Was he beginning to regret his choice? Impossible, he never had a choice, his blood led him here. His father’s violent hateful blood coursed thought his veins, mixed with the midi-chlorians that gave him power Bara’s fate was sealed from birth. This was what fate had chosen for him, he couldn’t change that. He tried to find the hate to burn all other emotions away but, couldn’t stoke those flames. His mind collapsed into fear. If Darth Animus sensed his misgivings Bara would be executed on the spot. His fear of death transformed into the hatred he needed, hatred directed at his mother. His weak mother with a weak heart, this was her doing. She cared for him with compassion and love, useless emotions that breed fodder. He resisted the urge to release his anger. It was the only thing keeping the small bit of light that had crept into his heart smothered. He landed his craft on the dreadnought and awaited the arrival of the others.

TAG: Exar Koon Tim Battershell

 

Quin Cerone
Quins apartment

Even Quin could get tired of his own constant worrying and nervousness every now and then. Didn't have the backbone to face Vorath? Even to give him something that could possibly save his life? Quin suddenly realized how selfish he was being. He couldn't abandon his companion with no extra insurance to protect himself with. Even if it meant sucking it up for some awkward social situation. Quin hopped out of his bed. Ideas for contraptions began to bounce around in his head. A spark was building up in his eyes once again.

And then there was a series of unfamiliar sounds. First, a heavy yet precise "CHNK!" coming from the opposite side of his apartment. And then a light wizz, he only heard that one for the briefest of moments. And then a firm yet soft sound coming from right behind him, like the sound of a speeding grav-ball being snatched from the air. Then the apartment was then filled with a familiar silence, and that silence had never seemed more out of place.

The spark in Quin's eye was gone, replaced by an expression of tremendous unprecedented shock and silent exasperation. He slowly glanced back at his bed. His eyes met with a small toxin capsule, with a fine sharp point now jammed firmly into a middle section of were just a moment ago his center mass was. Although it was in truth only a brief moment, it felt like he spent an eternity looking at the mysterious projectile.

And then the panic set in.

Tags: SonOfCyn

 

Rickant Urithan
In an idling XJ-3 Airspeeder
Perpendicular to Quins apartment, 260.982 meters away.

Rickant looked on in disbelief. A total fluke like that was virtually impossible. Rickant had missed a shot or two in his career before this of course, mostly just in his early days. But even those times it was simply due to maybe an ever so slight miscalculation on his part. Glancing shots.

But Rickant was quite certain that never, in the entirety of his career, had a shot missed due to the target being mentally unstable and leaping out of bed for no reason in the middle of the night. Rickant was beginning to think he might have to redact his earlier claim, this stranger might not be as unlucky as he thought.

Rickant sighed and slowly put another dart in the chamber. “What a bother,” thought Rickant. Now he had to waste even more time with what could very well be wasted time already. It would take time to recalibrate another shot to factor his new targets new position with the distance and wind. He decided it wasn’t worth the effort and set the airship to move to a position precisely 100 meters away from the room. This would be much more time efficient anyways. Until then Rickant patiently waited as the airspeeder comfortably cruised sideways with its repulsers.

Rickant watched the targets reactions to his predicament as he moved along through his scope. He wasn’t worried about his target trying anything. All customary precautions had already been made. So Rickant leaned back and watched the kid's panic escalate into frantic terror.

His target was about to get to the part where he realized how dire his situation really was. If the target had been more worthy, Rickant might have even been looking forward to this part.

But sadly, Rickant was more akin to being annoyed rather than elated by how things were turning out.
Tags: Sam Hellbent

 

Quin Cerone
Quin's apartment

Before Quin could even think about it he was already haphazardly stumbling into cover. He couldn't be sure how many times he tripped in those brief moments, but he knew it was a far larger number of times than he would have been comfortable with given the circumstances.

Quin settled on a spot behind an old multi container unit, about 1.4 meters high and half a meter wide. He just needed a moment to gather his thoughts! "What the Frag was that?!" Quin screamed internally "Someone found me here? No, more importantly, WHY would anyone want to find me here? And why would anyone try to fraging tranq me!?" A need for answers to these questions was getting more and more urgent, but Quin finally got his head around the most important one at hand. "WHAT DO I DO NOW?!?!"

Quin's thoughts started to reach some sense of composure. "OK, ok, prioritize. I've got to get out of here first." Quin yells for the voice recognizer at his door. "Front door, command unlock, access code 38796!" He would gather his breath and book it out of here. Then he'd need to contact Vorath for help.

The door responded politely with a "We're sorry. You do not appear to have access of this device. Please contact our technical support for more information."

Quin couldn't believe what he just heard. He tried again, and then once more after that, the tone of his voice becoming more exasperated each time. But still, the same polite message played out in full each time, seeming to stab him even deeper every time he heard it.

"This can't seriously be happening right now....." Quin muttered to himself, still curled up behind his makeshift cover, his only reliable lifeline.

Tags: @SonOfCyn

 

Rickant Urithan
In an cruising XJ-3 Airspeeder
Perpendicular to Quins apartment, 176 meters away

Rickant glanced at his datapad beside him, a little something he borrowed from the building management. Rickant wasn’t the type for stealing, but total control of the battlefield was often crucial to missions like this. What’s this? Looks like some unhappy patron is locked in there room. No matter. That guy should really be getting some sleep right now anyways.

It would also probably be wise for him to stop screaming at his front door, at this rate he'd blow his vocal cords. It'd be very inconvenient if he lost his voice right before the interrogation, and this night was already plenty inconvenient.

"I've got to give credit where its do, kid" he muttered to himself, "You built a great jail cell for yourself. Don't be too upset. You’re the one who shut yourself out from the world after all."

And a prison it was, he had looked over the specifications, and more importantly, the work that had been done on that apartment. He wasn't getting out.

Tags: @Sam Hellbent

 

Quin Cerone
Quin's apartment

Quin tried to stay calm but was rapidly becoming more and more panicked. He searched his mind for some respite to cling to. "Of course! I can simply rewire the door's console myself...." and then he remembered the door consoles for these rooms were built on the outside. "What about blowing my way through? i'll just grab some plank gas and...." He then remembered that he reinforced the door with multi layer steel alloys a few years back when he nearly suffered a break in. Walls, floor, and ceiling too just for good measure. He might as well be locked in a vualt.

Quin almost started to tear up a bit, but his mind quickly sprouted a new idea. Of course, how could he have been so stupid. Help was most likely still in orbit around the planet. He looked around for his gear. There it was, next to him in reach. A ball of clothes, headphones, and a satchel. Quin had never been happier to be such a slob. He took a deep breath and snatched it all up. He was half expecting to die that moment. He managed to pull it all back to his little cranny without physical mutilation though.

He scrambled for the com-link Vorath gave to him. "Just call Vorath, he can get me out of this jam. He was a jedi, I'm sure he's handled plenty of situations worse than this." The receiver began ringing for what felt like ages. Quin took the time to put his clothes on. He had the feeling he was going to be running for his life very soon, and he didn't want to have to do it without shoes.

Or in only his sleepwear for that matter....

The communications was still unanswered by the time he finished dressing. "Cmon Vorath, wake up and answer it already!" He then heard the beep of the message accepted sound. A long yawn played through Quin's ears.

It was the most beautiful sound Quin had ever heard in his life.

He began shouting into the mic on the com. He spouted out with a tone that was a half and half mix of panic and joy. "FINALLY! Ok, listen to me Vorath! I need you to get to my apartment as fast as you can RIGHT NOW! I'm pinned down by some maniac with a tranquilizer rifle. Hurry up, I'm not sure how long i can hold up here. Get over here right now before he.... before he...before........."

Quin was the kind of person who was used to the sound of silence. After all, his trusty headphones blocked out any sort of sound from the outside.

But this was a different type of silence. The type that you get when you start to make tiny little connections in your head. The ones that bring your words to a dead stop. For example:

"Why hasn't Vorath said anything by this point?"
"Why wouldn't he be telling me to remain calm at a time like this?"
"Why didn't I hear any sort of shuffling or movement whatsoever?"

And then a question Quin could have asked a short time back reared its terrifying head. One he was too blind to ask in the heat of the moment. On that seemed to freeze the life right out of him

"Did that yawn not sound like it came from Vorath's voice?"

Quin mutters to himself without thinking. "...You've got to be kidding me."

A voice spoke up from the com-link. "No please, continue. I'm sure we both have questions for one another."

Tags: SonOfCyn

 

Rickant Urithan
In an cruising XJ-3 Airspeeder
Perpendicular to Quins apartment, 151 meters away

The scream made him wince. It was painful to listen to.

This had to be one of Rickant's oldest tactics. Most assassins prefer capturing targets after their communications had been cut out, but then one day he got the idea to intercept the target’s frightened cries for help. Often people call those they think they can trust most in times of urgency. As soon as they hear that beep, they think their prayers are answered. They let it all rush out without thinking. Things that can become very useful for the interrogation phase late, such as this “Vorath” he tried to contact. Not to mention how effective it was at disturbing the target. It was simple. It was psychology. Whoever Vorath was he could also be another potential lead, although he doubted anyone of importance would keep company with this inventor of dubious value.

Rickant wasn’t going to deny it; he was starting to have fun. This whole mission had the feel of a guilty pleasure. Some missions were boring to accomplish. Some were challenging, or at least somewhat.

And then there were ones like this, were the predator gets some time to play with his prey. It’s not like he was going to seriously hurt the guy anyways, unless he had to of course.

Rickant once again spoke calmly into his com. "Calm down. We're just talking. Listen to me, and do exactly what I say and this can be easy for both of us. Firstly, I want you to count to three, inhale, then count to four, exhale."

On the other half of the line Rickant heard the kid’s sniveling as he made a poor attempt to follow his instructions. The intended deep breathes were more like the panicked gasps of a drowning man.

There was a bitter laugh occasionally interrupted by exasperated sobs.

Rickant hesitated and thought carefully on his words before picking up his com and addressing the boy once again.

TAG: Sam Hellbent

 

Darth Animus
Serenno, Shepard's Watch
The Zabrak's eye widen to the revelation of the amulet around Animus' neck...He is educated in Sith artifacts...This garners a whole new level of interest for Animus, the Zabrak's identity moves to a priority for the Dark Lord. As the the Zabrak fled, Animus made for his shuttle.

????
The Orbalisk, orbiting Serenno

The cloaked man leers down upon the Serenno through an observation bay, fascinated by the fear and chaos booming from the planet...Animus' plan has begun, that means...I am a Count now...The man's heart started pounding, it pounded with excitement at his new found power. The Count adjusts the controls to his respirator to keep his wheezing in check, his eyes narrowed with hatred for reminding himself of his inferior genes looking down at his mechanical arm replacing the one he was birthed without... Weak lungs and no arm, a gift from my father and his sister...Hissing of the door's hydrolectric beckoned Darth Animus' return. “ My Lord.” Humbling himself to his Master the count falls to a knee. “ My Lord, I co...” Animus' hand raises to silence the count.
“ Why are you here?” Animus inquired.
“ The Jedi my Master, Two came to Muunilinst investigating the death of the Muun Heig. The two worms you sent with me died attacking the Jedi each separately. They were weak Master, a blemish upon your Order.”
“ And the Jedi?” Animus gestured him to rise
“ I believe them to be head to Serenno considering they discovered your alter-ego was seen with Heig last, and as planned they have the Droid in their custody.” As ordered the Count rises.” Belved Ganon was among the duo of investigators, the other was a master by the name of Rena Vanesk. While on planet they picked up a mercenary named Allision Zander, heiress of the Zander shipping conglomerate.”
“ The Grand Master of the Jedi hunting me down...what an honor.” Animus' arm cross a rare occurrence and few had ever seen it, not a sign of fear, but rather elements he hadn't anticipated all collide at once.” Hillel alert me once everyone has returned or when the Jedi arrive and wish to see Lord Freke, which ever happens first.” Animus heads for the door.

“Yes, my master
SonOfCyn galactic-vagabond422 Tim Battershell

 

Vorath Din
Shadow of the Saarlac
It had taken ages for Vorath to fall asleep. Perhaps he shouldn't have filled his chamber with Jedi and Sith relics. Every time his eyes fell on one of the small statuettes, his mind went back to the explosion in the square. It wasn't the first time he had seen civilians die, but it was never something he liked seeing. Even sleep proved to be no relief. Strange visions flowed through his mind, visions of death, war, destruction, a young man narrowly avoiding a poisoned dart....

Vorath's eyes shot open. "Quin" he said softly, almost jumping from his bed. No matter what Quin had said, Vorath was taking him off-planet. Now. He pulled his robes on as he ran to the cockpit. He programmed the droid to land in the same hiding spot he used before, activating the stealth field. Opening the hatch, he viewed the city-scape around him. He was still quite a ways away from Quin's apartment, but he could move more precisely on the ground. Choosing a rooftop, he jumped, Pushing softly against the building as he came down for a landing. He pulled the force into him, increasing his speed as he activated his stealth field generator. He would let his senses guide him, and he hoped he would not arrive too late.

Tags: Sam Hellbent

 

Quin Cerone
Quin's apartment

"I'm sure that right now you are either planning, if not already attempting, to do something incredibly foolish..." the voice on the com-link began.

At this point Quin was frantically searching through his data-pad. There had to be some way to get some sort of message out! Some kind of work around to this total upload shut out! But as he searched through his systems he found that his new personal monster had been incredibly thorough. Any sort of uploading of any kind of data was impossible. He was able to stare at all the ways he could get help, but every single one of them couldn't be more out of reach.

"...but i would sincerely advise you not to. By now you've probably already seen that I've severed any other potential connections you could have with the outside world, and..."

At this point Quin got desperate, more so than he was already. He started yelling out for help. Maybe someone in one of the other apartments around him would hear him! Maybe someone would notice the madman with a tranquilizer rifle (most likely in some sort of air speeder of some kind, considering the angle Quin was shot from and the fact there are no buildings quite as tall as this one for at least a few kilometers.) out the window, maybe...

Quin stopped right there. At this point his urge to cry was uncontrollable. Quin knew exactly the reason why none of those things were going to happen.

He knew because he was the reason.

"...In case you've forgotten you soundproofed and reinforced your entire apartment. I've already seen the records for the work you've had done. You're not escaping."

His assailant was totally right. When Quin first selected this apartment he had two reasons. First was its location on the 120th floor. No airway traffic ever made it's way way up here, so he didn't have to worry about being spied on by any rogue air speeder passing by. Second was the fact that he had hacked into the buildings database beforehand. All the apartment selections were automated by the system, so he simply changed a few settings. He set the selection so that all the rooms in a large, multilevel spanning radius around his would be the absolute last rooms to possibly be filled. And because the building has rooms numbering in the hundreds, all the rooms around his for a multiple levels stayed perpetually empty. In most seasons, the lights in at least a 50 room spanning radius around his stayed off, and his with his one sided tinted glass window blended right into the little formation. He gets to run all his extremely loud experiments, and the owners of the building were none the wiser.

Quin looked down at the floor in absolute defeat. The pattering on his data-pad stopped. So too did all the little creative thoughts running around in his brain. He slumped down behind the old dusty multi-container.

He was stuck in a prison that he made for himself.

Tags: @SonOfCyn

 

Rickant Urithan
In an cruising XJ-3 Airspeeder
Perpendicular to Quins apartment, 107 meters away

Rickant kept watch through his thermal sights. He noted his targets body language. He was sure he had never seen anyone look so defeated.

The Airspeeder slowed to a halt. He looked at his rangefinder. 100 meters. He cradled his tranquilizer rifle in his hands. At this distance he didn’t need to calculate for precise wind speeds. It was just a matter of drawing the target out from his cover. He could always cruise up to the window and get the job done in person, but he'd rather save that option for last. He never underestimated any opponent, and even if this guy was sort of straining that mantra of his, he wasn't going to change his ways now. Anyway, he had a much cleaner solution in mind.

He picked up his communicator and spoke into it once again, and kept with the plan. Don't give the target time to speak, and don't give him time to think. He was here to tell him how this was going to go down, not the other way around.

“Here’s a hint to help you avoid unnecessary misery for yourself. Come out quietly from your cover, with your hands where I can see them. I will proceed to fire a tranq dart into you at a lowered velocity. It will put you down quick and clean. We go on a little trip. If you co-operate, everything works out fine for you and you get to live your happy little isolationist life with your nice fifty-three room radius breathing space. And yes, I noticed.”

Rickant heard near silence from the other end, just a few sniffles and some short panicked breaths. “Typical,” he thought.

Rickant’s tone changed for the second part of his ultimatum. It became less casual and much more capricious and calculated.

“Or you can press your luck and see what happens when you don’t take the time to make my life just a little bit easier. This little encounter will still end the same either way, with you out cold in the back of an airspeeder. It’s the part that comes after that which is subject to change. Do I take you to a comfortable office? Or do I take you to a different place? The first room can actually be very accommodating if you behave yourself. I’ve seen service droids serve guests there tea, and that’s the truth.” He paused for a minute to let it sink in before coldly adding “Just so you are aware, the second room has torture tools."

“The outcome is determinate and it’s your call, friend. Don't keep me waiting.” Rickant threatened menacingly, before closing his com and ending the call.
Tags: @Sam Hellbent

 

Sigeril Kast, Dxun

The air is stiff unmoved for ages, the walls decorated in hieroglyphs and Sith secrets, all melted away with time; with every step a plume of history rises at Sigeil's feet as he storms through the hall frantically looking for any sign of life other then his own. The Tomb was a maze of overlapping halls and chambers, a common design for Sith Lord to prevent the unwelcome from finding what must be kept hidden, after ending up in the same central chamber for the fifth time Sigeil pulled his dagger from his belt and marked the arch of each all with a “V” so he knew this which camber he was in and with every new chamber he did the same with a different symbol. Eventually through trial and error Sigeil found himself in the burial chamber were Nadd was supposedly buried, The Dark Side was still strong here the Vorath was sure to be close. Lightsaber in hand Sigeil continued his search for sign of the Sith lord, most of the exit have been caved in and those that weren't had a terrifying amount of webs so dense nothing could pass through without leaving an obvious sign. There was however a path that laid barren of web and stone, looked quite traveled as well. “WHY ARE YOU HERE?” Sigeil spun around the silver light of his lightsaber glistening off his eyes as the dim hum echoes through out the crypt.
“Show yourself Vorath, hiding will only aid you for so long!” commanded Sigeil moving into defensive stance.
“ There is nothing to show, I am all around you, Jedi!” This confused Sigeil why would Vorath call him a Jedi, Sigeil is clearly no Jedi and Vorath was the Lore Keeper and would know were Sigeil's allegiances lie.
“ Who are you?” Sigeil was sure this being was not Vorath.
"HOW DARE YOU ENTER MY DOMICILE AND NOT KNOW ME!" The voice boomed rattling the room, blowing dust and dirt at Sigeil, but revealing its origin... the sarcophagus of Freedon Nadd.

The room shook still as loose stone and bricks flew at Sigeil, those he could not dodge were cut with his lightsaber, moving toward the center of the room Sigeil prepared to confront whatever so lies in that sarcophagus. “I am a Knight of The Galactic Empire, Do you think stone will sway my ground?“ Derided Sigeil as more debris flew toward.
“I am more then granite boy!” from the sarcophagus an orange specter of Freedon rose. “I am your destruction!”


greyjedi125 LordOfHunger

 

Quin Cerone
Quin's apartment

Quin sat there motionless for a bit, thinking about what his tormentor told him. He took it word by word. And then he stumbled onto a word that gave him a little more clarity into the situation. Interrogation. He thought back to the carnage of the capital bombing. He now understood what kind of people were trying to capture him now. They were the kind that weren't going to let him leave after they were done with him, except maybe as ash floating in the vacuum of space.

And worse of all, they were going to torture every last bit of info out of Quin before they were through with him. Quin could take a wild guess as to the kind of info they wanted from him too. They certainly weren't looking for info on any tech junkie from Serenno, so that really only left one other possibility. Vorath.

Quin was now in pure emotional agony. Now not only would his stupid paranoia get himself tortured and killed, but it was also going to put Vorath into danger too, maybe even get him killed as well. And there was absolutely nothing Quin could do about it now. All of his careless mistakes in planning made sure of that, leaving him with no options left.

Well... he supposed there was one thing he could do.

Quin pulled out his thumbprint detonator from his satchel. A few years back, Quin put a small thermal charge in the storage container where he stored all his more unstable munitions and chemicals in. It was supposed to be a precautionary measure just in case Quin ever needed to leave but didn't have time to move all the equipment to a new hideout. There was too much illegal contraband in here and Quin couldn't risk the authorities (or maybe someone even worse) getting their hands on it.

Quin took a long look at the switch. One press and the room and everything in it could be destroyed by the initial explosion and the subsequent chemical fire. He didn't have to worry about anyone getting hurt by any of the resulting destruction. All the rooms in a more than 30 room radius were unfilled, giving emergency services easily enough time to get the fire put out before it spread further than that. No one would be in any real danger.

Well, besides the one person still in the blast zone that is.

Quin started to contemplate about ideas he thought he'd never have to face. The more he thought about it the more it seemed like the best solution though, as sad as it sounded. He certainty wouldn't have to worry about giving up any information, as every bit of connection between him and Vorath would all be bits and pieces on the floor after the explosion, including the stuff in his own noggin. It was another option where he wound up dead, but he supposed it was better than being tortured to death and getting his friend murdered to boot. At least he could die doing something right.

Quin started to lose his sense of despair. The whole situation was just starting to make him feel numb actually. He now had regained some semblance of control over the situation, in a strange sense. The thought of it ending like this didn't seem all that bad to him truly, as it felt like the logical way for someone of his incredibly experimental and dangerous profession to go. It was pretty inevitable in his line of work really. Just one small mistake and BOOM, gone in an instant.

Gone in an instant.........

Quin suddenly remembered the storage unit he was taking cover behind. He never actually checked what it was for. He was always terrible at labeling them, so they got mixed up often. Maybe it was the chemicals and munitions unit. It certainly would be a fitting stroke of fate. He turned the unit around and reached inside to check what exactly he'd been hiding behind all this time. Quin felt a plethora of sticky clumps against the inside of the drawer. What is that? Quin doesn't remember having any chemicals like this, especially with it being outside any sort of containment vessel. He grabs a clump and pulls it out to examine it; it sort of sticks to his hand, and finds a piece of brightgum on his palm.

Oh no. Not this unit. This was just cruel.

Tags: SonOfCyn

 

RickantUrithan​

In an cruising XJ-3 Airspeeder​

Perpendicular to Quins apartment, 100 meters away​

​

Rickant was slowly running out of patience. He knew he wasn’t in any particular risk of being spotted by anyone, but he still preferred to get tasks like this done in a timely matter. If not for efficiency sake, at least for the fact that Rickant hated time wasted.​

​

He peered through his thermal sights once more. “Yup, still sobbing”. The target appeared to be clutching something now though. Rickant worried for a moment if he might be trying something, but that fear subsided quickly. The way he was holding implied it wasn’t some kind of weapon. The way the target had his hands around it conveyed it was some sort of small cylinder.​

​

What even was that thing?​

​

Tags: @Sam Hellbent

​

 

Quin Cerone
Quin's apartment

Quin looked at the contraption now in his hands. This wasn't the munitions and chemicals unit. This was something else entirely. It was the unit he brought over from his old home, all of his oldest experiments inside along with some of his old chewed up pieces of brightgum he couldn't be bothered to throw in the trash at the time. The tube in his hands was the first "projectile" launching device he ever made, crafted with some old pipes and a small archaic air pump that was lying around his moms engineering studio, it even still had some of its "ammunition" in it. He must have been around 6 at the time.

He wondered how silly he must look right now. It made him chuckle a bit, even in these desperate times. A shabbily dressed engineer hiding behind an old storage unit, clutching some glued together piece of junk like it was some kind of treasure.

Quin remembered something. He turned the little air cannon over and looked at the other side. His mom had written something on it while he wasn't looking after he made it. It was still there, plain to see. "Pretty good, but i think you can do better!" For most families that might be considered a discouraging statement. But Quin was taught that for an engineer, that was the greatest compliment you could possibly receive. A real inventor is always improving after all, and can always come up with new and better ideas if they try hard enough. That was the creed Quin lived by.He also lived by one more passed down ideology as well, this one coming from something he overheard his mom saying one day when he was very young.

"No, i am not a spaz. I just prefer to stay mentally active is all. I'm going to have plenty of time to be brain dead later anyway!"

Quin's sadness started to fade. He wiped away the tears from his eyes. He started to clutch the cobbled together tech in his hands more firmly. How could he have decided to stop thinking now, at a time where it could very well be his last chance?

But escape was a total impossibility, wasn't it? His pursuer had thought of every possible exit strategy and Quin had done the rest. An unwinnable scenario. A checkmate.

He reflected on that statement. "The unwinnable scenario...." Quin felt a small amount of passion start to brew up inside him, clawing through the fear and hesitation. If he was going to die, might as well try to solve the unsolvable as his final farewell to this world. He was going to have plenty of time for not thinking about it later anyway, as his mentor might say.

Suddenly, a small dim light comes on in his head. Quin grabs his data-pad and checks something. He couldn't send out any outgoing signals, but he still had access to incoming data. Quin checked the news. Quin never enjoyed reading the news, as the people writing and reporting it nine times out of ten had ulterior motives when doing so. There were a few branches of news you could trust though, mostly because there was nothing to be gained from manipulating them. Quin held his breath as he checked for the info he was looking for. It... It was actually what he was hoping for. He could hardly believe it.

Quin pulled himself back to reality for a moment. Even if he tried something like that, his kidnapper obviously wasn't going to let him get away with it. Quin could tell from the tone of his voice he probably wasn't the type to leave empty handed.

But as the task seemed more and more impossible, it just became more and more tantalizing to Quin. The more challenging each thought made the problem seem the more his confidence built. Before Quin knew it his hands had started to move by themselves. His usual thinking processes seemed to accelerate.

Quin was sweating bullets as his hands went from tool to tool. He had a plan now, not one he would give the praise of actually being called a "plan" but a plan nonetheless. As he worked he chewed on a few pieces of brightgum from the drawer in front of him. Chewing on more than 8 year old pieces of brightgum that had been stuck to the inside of a musty old storage compartment might seem slightly gross, but Quin hoped there might still be some old unused energy in them. He was going to need all the energy he could get for what came next.

Plus, there was one more reason.

Tags: @SonOfCyn

 

Rickant Urithan
In an cruising XJ-3 Airspeeder
Perpendicular to Quins apartment, 100 meters away

Time was up. Not only that, but the target had suddenly become outrageously active. Strange considering the mental state his body language had betrayed earlier. But that wasn’t really what Rickant found odd. What was odd was what the target was doing with his hands. Rickant knew the target was an inventor, but not some master of hand eye dexterity. His hands were moving at the speeds that rivaled excellent assassins in their prime. Rickant was actually a tad bit impressed, even though he knew the man's efforts were certainly for not.

Rickant wasn’t about to take any chances though. He set the air speeder to move to a position 10 meters away from the window, at a much faster rate than before no less. He pulled out yet another contingency plan he had at his side just for such an occasion. A C-10 stun grenade. He wasn’t planning on staying here all night, and even though he himself despised explosives, sometimes they were a necessary evil.

As the airspeeder approached its destination Rickant positioned himself on top of it as to have a clear throw. He would also have to be dragging the little idiot’s body out in a minute anyway so this position was necessary in a few ways. He kept his tranq rifle at the ready though. He wasn’t about to let the target have any free pot shots against him. If the target showed any tiny bit of his body to shoot, Rickant would be honored to put this little farce of retaliation from his target to an end.

Damn. Rickant was really looking forward to that tea too.

Tags: @Sam Hellbent