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 21 
 on: March 25, 2016, 01:12:29 PM EDT 
Started by Balan - Last post by Balan

               *   *   *

        Just after seeing the small freighter fly low over the hutt’s minions, Balan heard a loud thud behind him. The charred remains, of the merc that had been hovering over the building entrance, had hit the ground a couple feet behind him. He heard the two remaining mercs shout an enraged battle cry, each of them then aimed and fired a rocket at the ground to either side of him. The blast would be enough to render him unconscious, if not kill him.

        Using the force to propel him he jumped forward. In his weakened state he only made it about six feet, but he hit the ground running. Seeing Vasira running in his direction motivated him to pick up his pace. They both neared the fountain from opposite sides, as he saw the henchmen began to fire on Vasira. “No!” he shouted, straining his exhausted muscles to push him as fast as humanly possible.

        It wasn’t enough, he saw the bolt exit her chest, the look of shock on her face, and her eyes close as she hit the ground and rolled. There were no words to express his anger and grief, he hoarsely roared with what was left of his strength. The small army noticed him and began firing at him as well. He deflected the shots that came near him, before ducking behind the large duracrete fountain. He crouched down on the ground and peered around the corner, disengaging his lightsaber blade. He didn’t care if she was dead, he couldn’t leave her there.

        The firing continued on, chipping away at the two, three-meter tall, duracrete figures, and their shared water basin. He concluded he’d get only one chance at getting her out of there, before they made sure she was dead. Ignoring his own safety he stuck out his head and shoulders, and thrust out his hand for her arm. He grabbed it just below the elbow and pulled her to him. He slid back behind the disintegrating décor, sat down and pulled her onto his lap. Her eyes were still closed, and she wasn’t moving. Balan’s hope was gone.

        It returned a moment later, when her eyes bolted open and she breathed in deeply, shocked she was still alive. “Vasira!” he shouted with joy, anguish, anger, and fear all at once. He pulled her in and squeezed her tightly. “Aah!” she shouted in pain. He let go of her instantly “oh! I’m so sorry!” Guilt joined his other emotions, for causing her pain. She raised her right hand to cover her gaping wound. It looked very bad to Balan, as it seeped blood.

        He heard the deafening sound of the starship again, heard it firing as it neared the fountain.  It passed over head, not blowing him and Vasira to smithereens. It continued its run, firing at the two mercs. They steered clear of it and dodged its shots, as it flew on past the shopping mall. Balan tried to get a closer look at the ship, but instantly forgot about that when the two mercs made a B-line for him and Vasira. He gingerly set her aside and stood up, reigniting his saber. They began firing their heavy blaster pistols at him. He didn’t think his battered body could keep up. His arms felt like wet noodles, trying to hold up a twenty kilogram hilt.

        To his surprise he kept up with the bolts, for several moments, but didn’t even see the third capture cord. It wrapped around his tired out body and entangled him. He struggled to pull it apart. He was unsuccessful and lost his balance from wrestling with it. He toppled over, adding shame to his defeat. His lightsaber was knocked from his hands when he hit the ground, it disengaged and rolled away from him.

        He watched helplessly as the mercs landed in front of him. One of them barked at the other in Mando’a and motioned towards Vasira. The Mandalorian approached them and picked up Vasira, while the one giving orders roughly picked Balan by the clingwire. “Ah!” he grunted as he was hoisted up. “Hey!” he protested.

        Just as roughly as he was picked up, he was suddenly dropped onto his left side. He quickly ascertained why. The ship had returned. With it standing still, he was able to confirm his hope that it was indeed, Grennick’s light freighter.

        It hovered over the courtyard, between them and the complex’s main entrance. He heard Vasira also hit the ground with a thud. He heard her moan in pain. This gave him some relief. She was still alive, at least for the moment.

        The Mandalorians suddenly sprung into action. They activated their jetpacks and flew in opposite directions, in a circle around the ship. As they went, they fired rocket after rocket into the two dual-laser cannons-one on bottom, one on top-on Grennick’s freighter. The lower cannon was wrecked almost immediately, the one on top got off a few shots before being destroyed. A pair of bolts struck one of the mercs on one side of his chest. He went into a spin, crashed head first into one of the exterior duracrete walls of the mall, and fell in a heap onto the ground.

        The ship having been disabled, the last merc swooped around to his fallen comrade. Balan anxiously watched as the ramp to the ship slowly lowered. It revealed a grizzled man in his early forties. “Grennick,” Balan thought.

        He stepped out to the end of the ramp, as it and the ship’s landing gear touched down. He looked around for the remaining merc. He soon found him, as he sped in Grennick’s direction, his jetpack propeling him. Grennick tried to dodge him, but he plowed into him, knocking him off the ramp and down the few feet to the ground. Grennick hit hard, the wind being knocked out of him; but he rolled and quickly got back on his feet.

        The Mandalorian swept back around in a wide circle firing his blaster. Grennick darted for the fountain, firing his blaster as he went. There were several close calls, but it was only a matter of time before one of them found their target. The hit landed on the Mandalorians head. His body went limp, and careened into the top of Grennick’s frieghter. After he bounced off of it, his jetpack shut off and he crashed onto the ground. He came to a rest on the opposite side of the ship from the fountain.

        Balan had rolled onto his back, and had finally managed a grip on Qur’s lightsaber. He ignited the brilliant silver blade and sliced through the clingwire on that side of his body. As Grennick got up, watching for anymore hostiles, Balan continued to cut himself free. The pilot walked over to the padawan, and looked down at him “hand it over, kid.”

        Balan stood himself up, having freed himself of his constraints. He unceremoniously turned the saber off and handed it to him. He stepped over to Vasira and picked her up. “We need to patch her up, now;” there was great urgency in the young man’s voice.

        Grennick pocketed the saber, took a look at the young Twi’lek’s wound and nodded. “I’ll have T6 lower the ship. There’s a medkit in the main room.” Balan walked towards the ramp. He then remembered his own lightsaber. He had forgotten to pick it up. He couldn’t spare anytime before helping her, though. Without turning back, he called to Grennick “would you grab that other saber for me? Thanks.”

        The man looked from the boy to the saber and back again. He wasn’t about to start doing errands for him, but he figured he’d help him out, this time. He pocketed the second saber. He then spoke into his wrist comm to his droid partner “land the ship T. You’ve got wounded coming in, help’em out.” A few quizzical beeps sounded over the comm. He didn’t answer them. He only replied “I’ve got two bounty hunters to check on,” before turning off the comlink.

        He instead made his way around his ship, blaster in hand. He was going to make sure those two Mandalorians weren’t going to make anymore trouble for him.

        Inside the ship, Balan hustled to the main room, T6 leading the way. Balan set her down on a couch, and then turned to the droid and asked “where’s the medkit?” The droid replied with beeps and boops, but Balan couldn’t understand it. Beside himself now, he looked around the room for it. T6 rotated and rolled over to stand next to it. Balan followed as the droid opened it up. He frantically searched through the kit for gause, kolto, and a sealant. Finding the first two, but not the sealant, he gave up after a few moments and went back to her.

        He opened the pack of kolto. Despite his queasiness, he began to apply it to the inside of the wound with a plasti applicator. The bolt had burned through part of her chest, but had amazingly missed her shoulder, left lung, heart, and main arteries. His fingers now covered in blood, he had finished applying the kolto. Without a sealant however, he couldn’t stop the bleeding. In desperation, he turned to the droid “I don’t know what to do! She’s gonna bleed to death! I can’t stop it!” He got back up and went back to the medkit to try again to find the sealant.

        Focused on finding the sealant he didn’t notice the droid’s reply. What he did notice was Vasira screaming in pain. He turned and ran to her side. As he did, he saw the droid extending one his arms into her wound. He saw small flashes of electricity coming from the wound. He then realized that the droid was helping. He held Vasira down as she writhed in pain from the shocks.

        He hadn’t even noticed that she wasn’t making any sounds until the droid jolted her, literally, and she started screaming. He didn’t know if she had been asleep or unconscious; but now he thought she might make it. During the whole cauterization process, Vasira glared daggers at Balan-who smiled back sympathetically and innocently-but she didn’t give the droid a second thought.

        After T6 finished cauterizing her wound, he helped Balan spread the gauze over it. Vasira, quiet again, quickly fell asleep. Balan sat on the floor by her side, while T6 rolled off to go attend to the ship.

               *   *   *

        Grennick had briefly examined the army he had decimated, before checking on the Mandalorians. They were attacking the kid and apparently his friend. He regretted the loss of life, but thought he had made the right choice, when he fired on them. A handful of them had survived, and scurried off to who knows where.

        He checked the first Mandalorian, who had plowed into a wall headfirst. There was no sign of life in him. He briefly thought about scavenging the armor, but decided against. It’d be too easily traceable by other Mandalorians of his clan. In his opinion, it’d also show little respect for the dead.

        He moved onto the last one, the one that had bounced off the top of his ship. This one was laying face down, sprawled out on the ground. As with the previous Mandalorian, he kept his blaster aimed at his head. He stood there for a good minute, waiting for the Mandalorian to spring to life and try to surprise him. No such thing happened. He swallowed the lump in his throat, stuck out his foot, and lightly kicked the armored foe. The body rolled over to reveal a smoldering hole in the forehead of the merc’s helmet. He breathed a sigh of relief and regret.

        His relief quickly disappeared when he realized that the hole wasn’t a hole, it was just a dent. The Mandalorian did indeed spring to life, instantaneously jerking his arm in Grennick’s direction. The pilot was surprised, but squeezed off a couple shots, before the Mandalorian could. One knocked the blaster out of the merc’s hand and the other hit between the armor plates just above the wrist. The Mandalorian shouted and then writhed in pain.

        Grennick stood there watching. “So one of them did survive,” he thought to himself.

        This presented a dilemma for him. The Mandalorian quickly pressed the issue as he, with his one good hand, ripped off his helmet. This revealed long red hair, and that he was indeed a she. Her sharp, striking features caught him more off guard than her surprise attack did. “Just get it over with!” she painfully demanded in Mando’a.

        He replied matter-of-factly, “I thought you were alive; when I saw your pack switch off. That doesn’t just happen by itself, but you know-“

        “You may end my agony, but you may not add to it with your dribble!” she screamed ferociously in her language.

        He kept his expression stern, and cold. He would do what he had to. “One shot ought to do,” he thought. He fired. “Uh, heh. . .tougher than I thought” he mumbled, and fired a couple more times, before he was satisfied.

        He turned back to the women “you put a tracking device on my ship, and I’ll shoot you too.”

        He started to back away. She watched him, fire in her eyes, as he watched her. She glanced to her blaster, which he had blown to pieces with one, than a couple more, shots. “You’re not sparing me! I’m already dying!” she screamed accusatorily at him.

        He smirked at her over dramatization. From her wounds, he could tell that she’d survive. He knew first hand, that Mandalorians were tough. “You’ll be fine” he called back condescendingly.

        He raised the ramp and then made his way to the main room. There he learned from T6 that he and the boy had stabilized his shot friend. Feeling sorry for them-and a bit generous because of having his cargo back-he tossed the kid his saber, and then walked to the cockpit without a word. He’d give them passage to a safer place; after selling his cargo.

        T6 followed him into the cockpit. Grennick then told him to take the ship into orbit. After catching his breath, Grennick returned to the main room to sort this whole thing out, which including scolding the padawan.

               *   *   *

        The lone surviving Mandalorian watched the ship take off, arc up into the sky, and burn atmo. “I won’t be sparing you, Grennick Lin” she growled through gritted teeth.

 22 
 on: March 25, 2016, 01:11:37 PM EDT 
Started by Balan - Last post by Balan
        Vasira heard what he said. Frantically she asked “what’s going on?!”

        “There’s two-“ he corrected himself when he saw two more figures in Mandalorian armor hovering above them. “No, four mercs with jetpacks surrounding us, and Onis’ guards are behind us. About twenty of them.” The crowd must have started to notice Onis’ minions because screaming erupted from behind the pair, and a moment later they were bombarded with people shoving past them, running for safety. Balan pulled her close to keep them from being separated.

        “We have to fight,” she shouted to be heard over the cacophony of terror.

        “We’re outgunned, surrounded. You can’t even really see!” He tried reasoning with her.

        “I’m not going back there! Even if I die, I’m not going back there!”

        He didn’t have plan, he didn’t know what to tell her. “We should. . .”

        “You take care of the Mandalorians, I’ll take care of Onis’ men.”

        He was left speechless by her strong words. He didn’t know if it was confidence, or if she had resigned herself to going out in a blaze of glory.

        Without so much as a goodbye she turned around and let go of his hand. She trudged through the sea of people, keeping her head down and a firm grip on her blaster carbine. She was being pushed around by the terrified mob, but she kept pushing through, step by step. She wouldn’t go back, she was done being pawed and used, spat on and enslaved. She would never go back. She would die first.

        Balan watched her slip away. She quickly disappeared from sight, engulfed by the crowd. He too, was being battered by the stampede. He mourned for her, feeling he’d never see her again. He quickly stopped himself, though. He wouldn’t let her down. He wouldn’t just let them die. He knew firmly in his mind that they wouldn’t. He was convinced that he’d find, or fight, a way out.

        Feeling the last wave of people pass her, Vasira stopped and peeked out from under her helmet. There were well more than twenty henchmen facing her. The filthy monsters had stopped, and formed a line before her. The guard chief, a surly, leathered Weequay, stood in the front of the middle of the line. She knew him well. His name was Kassu. He wouldn’t touch or hit her, unlike some of his guards. However, despite his authority, he never stopped those abusing her.

        He spoke to her calmly, in Huttese. “Girl, put down the gun.”

        She paid him no heed. She wanted to see the sky before it was all over. She didn’t care if it hurt her eyes. She pulled the helmet off her head. She let it fall to the ground with a thud. She stared up into the blue sky, tinged greyish-brown by the heavy pollution in the atmosphere. It was the most beautiful thing she had ever seen, besides the warm smile on her mother’s face.

        She fought off those wistful thoughts, she wouldn’t breakdown in tears at her execution. She knew her death warrant had been signed. She also knew that most likely it was one of Onis’ close relatives, who had rallied and ordered this mob after her. She focused instead on her accomplishment; she had escaped, she was a free woman. She had seen the sky.

        When she hadn’t replied to him, she had just stared beyond him, the guard chief grew angry. “Put down the gun!” he shouted. Her gaze slowly lowered to him, looking him in the eye. Her eyes burned with intense pain now. She would let herself blink some, but she wouldn’t let her eyes have the rest that they begged for. She wanted to take in as much light as possible, before it was all over.

        She casually lifted her arm, stretching it out toward the guard chief. The blaster hung limply in her grip. At her movement, several of the henchmen shifted anxiously. Kassu put out both his hands, to signal to his men to refrain from firing. They did, barely.

        She examined their faces with disdain, the faces of her executioners. She noticed that each of them wore a tinted visor, which protected their eyes from the harsh sunlight. Her gaze then went back to the face of the guard chief, and settled there. She focused on him, blaming him in her head for everything that had happened to her. He had been one of few with the power to stop her mistreatment; not her enslavement, but at least her abuse.

        He simply stared back into her eyes. She knew he wasn’t really trying to save her life. He was just trying to preserve her until one of Onis’ relatives could execute her in a more exciting, extravagant fashion. She had seen it happen before; a thin veil of hospitality or mercy covering twisted, malevolent indulgence. She also knew that he would be rewarded well, if he succeeded.

        When she hadn’t dropped the gun after a couple moments; he spoke to her again, calmly, almost soothingly. “Put it down, we will not hurt you. We hated Onis, just like you. Put it down, Vasira.”

        His speaking her name disgusted her. It was enough to propel her into action, and get it over with. Her face twisted in abhorrence as she flicked her wrist, pointing the blaster at him. Her three bolts blasted through his armored chest. The other henchmen reached for their weapons, and she began firing on them as well.

               *   *   *

        The crowd flooded past Balan and through the entrance doors. For a moment he wanted to slip away with them. He wouldn’t bring them into the line of fire, though. The mercs, to their credit, were content to let the crowd flee. They merely watched Balan, and waited. He had never heard a reply from Grennick. Amidst the stampede, the communicator had been knocked loose from his grasp, and disappeared under the feet of the fleeing horde.

        Soon the last of the crowd left him behind. Bruised from the stampede, he realized he’d gotten more of a beating from them, then he had from the guards. He caught a glimpse of Vasira, staring at what must have been closer to thirty henchmen. He could hear one of the aliens speaking to her, his deep, calm voice echoing throughout the courtyard.

        The mercs started to descend towards him. He unclipped his lightsaber and ignited it. “What do you want?!” he shouted, angry and fearful. They didn’t reply. He sensed danger from behind and twisted around to his left. He looked down to see the hooked end of a capture cable hit the ground, where he had just been standing.

        He looked back up at the merc hovering between him and the building entrance, who was now shooting his own capture cable. He twisted and stepped aside again, but the clingwire grazed him and latched on. It began wrapping itself around his right arm, holding his lightsaber, and down around his back.

        He changed his grip on his saber to his unhindered left hand and sliced through the cable with a quick swing. The clingwire held to his robes, but only hindered the movement of his right arm somewhat. He again sensed danger, this time to his right, and then all around him. He caught a glimpse of a small, pointed, metallic object darting towards him. He ducked and rolled forward. He heard several clanging noises as the metallic objects hit the paved ground.

        He whirled around, and as he did so, he heard one of the mercs shouting something angrily. His hearing was suddenly overwhelmed with a deafening noise. A ship suddenly flew over him, firing it’s dual-laser cannons. He saw the merc, that had been directly behind him moments ago, turned to slag as several laser bolts hit him squarely.

               *   *   *

        She kept firing into the group of henchmen, taking down a couple more of them. She saw their eyes widen, as they all dove to the ground. She heard and felt in her chest a powerful sound behind her. She turned around just in time to see a ship zoom by, less than 10 meters above her head. Her survival instinct instantly returned to her, and she bolted for the large fountain in the middle of the courtyard. She didn’t think she’d make it, but she had to take the chance. She was halfway to the fountain when she heard and felt blaster fire zing by her. She was so close that she could count her steps to the fountain now. “4, 3, 2-“ A bolt hit her left shoulder blade, burned through her chest, and kept on going. She screamed and tumbled to the ground, landing next to the fountain.

 23 
 on: March 25, 2016, 01:09:34 PM EDT 
Started by Balan - Last post by Balan
        The communicator began to broadcast, but he wasn’t sure what exactly he should say “. . .Hello. Hello? Zoronius, are you there?” He remembered that name, from when they first arrived on Nar Shaddaa. His telepathic communication with the Jedi had been burned indelibly into his memory. He paused, and waited.

        After a few moments of only static he tried again. “Hello? Is anyone on this channel? Is there a person by the name of Zoronius listening in?” Again, only static. He sighed heavily and dropped his head. Perhaps this wouldn’t be as easy as he thought. Vasira was growing a little concerned at him not getting an answer.

        With a little bit of panic in his voice, he tried a third time. “Hello? Is anyone there? I need-“

        “Boy?! Is that you?!”

        Balan’s face went a little pale. He swallowed his spit, and replied. “Who is this?”

        “I know that voice, and T6 agrees with me. You’re that little Jedi brat who took my cargo.”

        Balan now recognized the other person’s voice, as well. It was Grennik, the smuggler who’s ship he had stowed away on. It wasn’t his first choice, it was just to get out of a firefight with Corsec. He wasn’t sure how to respond. He couldn’t even remember everything that had happened between them, it had been a long week on Nar Shaddaa. He went with his inclination, which was to try to make peace. “Look, I’m sorry about all that. But, nonetheless, I still have the cargo so you can still get your payment.”

        There was a long silence, before Grennik replied. “Where are you?”

        “I really don’t know. Some sort of huge shopping center, I think.”

        “Hmm. . .Well, I’m having T6 triangulate your signal, as it is. I’ll be there soon. You better have my cargo, boy.”

        “I do. I’ll gladly return it, but you gotta do something for me.”

        “I don’t have to do squat for you, boy,” he growled. “You owe me,” he said coldly.

        “I just want a ticket off this moon, that’s all.”

        “We’ll see.”

        “It’s either that, or you don’t get the saber.”

        There was another long silence before Grennik replied. “Fine, kid.”

        With that, their conversation died. Balan left the communicator on, so Grennik could track its signal. He wasn’t sure he should, though. He wondered if Grennik would stick to the agreement. Vasira broke his contemplation. “What about me? Do I get a ticket out of here, too?”

        He hadn’t even thought to mention her to Grennik. “ I wouldn-“ he then realized that the smuggler would probably be listening in on their conversation. He pressed his palm tightly to the microphone end of the communicator, to block out their conversation. “I wouldn’t worry about it, I’m sure he’ll let you go too.” After thinking about it more, he really wasn’t that sure. He couldn’t bring himself to tell her that, though.

        They decided to walk a little ways down the alley, trying to put a little more room between them and the deceased Hutt’s lair. This alley led to another, which ran the length of the back of the shopping complex. There were large freight doors spaced out along the beige-painted, back wall of the duracrete complex. On the other side of the alley were a row of large, grey, durasteel warehouses. For a while they stood around, not saying much. They just waited nervously for a ship that might, or might not, take them off the planet.

        It felt like an eternity, but they knew it must have only been about fifteen minutes before they heard a loud sound that caught their attention. By this time Balan’s eyes had finally adjusted to the light, and he didn’t have to squint so hard. He thought the sound might be Grennik’s ship dipping out of the airlanes high above their heads. He looked up and saw the streaming, criss-crossing lanes of atmospheric traffic. It seemed to him, to be exceptionally orderly for the traffic of a Hutt crime world.

        An object caught Balan’s eye, flying over one of the large warehouses. As he turned his head to track it, he saw that it was an armored humanoid, propelled by a jetpack strapped to it’s back. It stopped in mid-air and seemed to be watching them. Balan recognized the armor as Mandalorian. He felt fear yet again and his heartbeat quickened. He grabbed Vasira’s hand and started quickly walking away from the flying person, and back to the courtyard. He kept his eyes on the newcomer as he walked.

        Vasira kept pace with him, “what’s going on? Where are you taking me?” “There’s a merc who seems to be watching us.” As they reached the courtyard, Balan noticed something that stopped him cold. A group of aliens were weaving through the many hovercars in the parking lot, just outside the courtyard of the shopping center. They were of various species, and they were armed and armored. It seemed that the late Hutt’s small army had rallied.

        There were twenty or so of them that Balan could see making their way to the shopping complex. He quickly started making his way into the courtyard, Vasira stumbled as he pulled her along with him. “Hey! Watch it!” she protested. He didn’t reply he just led them into the mass of people. He glanced back to see the flying merc come around the corner of the building. He began looking for an entrance into the interior of the shopping complex. He spotted the main entrance, below part of the mall’s ancient civilization facade. It had a foyer with large, clear plasteel windows. As he turned to head in that direction he saw a second flying, armored figure come over the top of the building entrance.

        Knowing they were surrounded, he stopped. His mind racing, he froze for a moment. He didn’t know what to do. He then noticed the communicator still in his hand. “Grennick,” he pleaded “get here fast! We’re trapped!”

 24 
 on: March 10, 2016, 09:21:43 PM EST 
Started by Pendor - Last post by Pendor
Whoops. Malak. Malgus. NEW CONSPIRACY THEORY! MALGUS IS MALAK!!!!!!

Edit: Fixed. Also, you know what this means, Malak is Kephess! (just kidding)

 25 
 on: March 10, 2016, 09:17:02 PM EST 
Started by Pendor - Last post by Airgain
Hey Pendor, I'm pretty sure that Darth Malgus wasn't Revan's apprentice.

 26 
 on: March 10, 2016, 02:52:13 PM EST 
Started by Pendor - Last post by Pendor
A light started flashing on the side of the panel. A chair swiveled around in the semi-darkness. A shadowy figure hit the button to see what had happened. An image appeared on the screen of a soldier and a Jedi walking into the cave where the Star Map was located. The same cave he had put sensors in just a day before.

"Well, well. Looks like your little friends have decided to come investigate your disappearance, Captain," the figure said as he turned towards the one light source in the room. There, under one bright light was a table. Strapped to the table with built in metal cuffs was a Republic captain - the leader of the missing soldiers. The captain began to make muffled noises behind the gag around his mouth.

"Now, now, your mumbling is interrupting my thought process. How very unkind. You need to learn some manners," the shadowy figure said coldly as he raised his arms. Slowly the muffled noises turned to screams as the figure began shooting lightning at the body. "Oh dear, that seems to be even noisier. What to do? What to do?" the figure said as he began to choke the captain instead. Within a minute the captain was limp. Knocked out from a lack of air.

"That's better. Now, where was I," the figure continued in his monologue to the now unconscious captain, "Ah yes. The visitors. It's unfortunate that they are walking right into my trap. I hate to admit it but the Republic seems to know more about the Rakata than the Sith. I wish to unlock the hidden powers of the Star Maps but lack the knowledge. I've found that it's much easier to get the Jedi to help me when they are strapped to a metal bench, starved, and tortured by the Force. I imagine you would agree if you weren't being subjected to the same treatment."

Turning back to the screen, the shadowy figure peered more closely at the screen. Suddenly he stood back and whispered, "How ironic. My counterpart in the Jedi Council. Who would have guessed we would rise to the same position on different sides. Well, dear brother, it appears it is time for us to meet. This time there will be no hugs. No fondness. This time, you die."

Picking up twin lightsabers resting next to the screen, the shadowy figure walked towards the exit. As he passed the captain, he turned on the sabers and executred the captain with a small flourish. "It appears you have outlived your usefullness," the man said as his face was illuminated by the light. Turning towards the exit again, Darth Exercitum made his way out to his speeder and headed for the cave. The only thing on his mind - death...

 27 
 on: March 10, 2016, 02:33:05 PM EST 
Started by Pendor - Last post by Pendor
Pendor's speeder was blazing across the dunes, the light of Tatooine's twin suns glaring off the sand blasted metal, when his comm began to beep. He pressed the respond button, only to see Lexson's face looking more serious than normal.

Lexson began to speak at once: "Pen, you were right to be worried. I found your Jedi - or what was left of him at any rate. I found his body in a storage bin outside the Anchorhead cantina. Looks like something got to his body first. What was left wasn't pretty. It was hard to tell exactly what killed him, but it looked like it might have been a lightsaber."

Pendor replied, "That is most alarming. This investigation is growing darker by the day. What do you intend to do now?"

Lexson thought about it for a minute and then said, "I'm going to keep looking into this. It's unlikely that no one saw the murder or who dumped the body. A few credits here, a few drinks there and I may be able to get you a name."

"Sounds like as good a plan as any. I'll await your report. Pendor out." Pendor closed the comm channel and realized that he was almost to the cave. Slowing down, he punched in the frequency for the comms troops he had had Techk requisition.

Addressing them all, he said, "Greetings, soldiers of the Republic. My name is Pendor Bartos; I am a Jedi Master and member of the Jedi High Council. I am the one who requested your services. I know you don't know me or Techk, and because of that I know you don't trust him or I. I've served beside enough soldiers to know trust is earned not a given. And the first place to start building that trust is here. Given the possibility that some of you might be captured, I cannot reveal all of the information about this mission, but I want to give you a rough outline so that you can understand what we are doing and why it is important.

I'll begin with the Star Maps. I don't know how familiar any of you are with the legend of Revan, so I'll give you a brief rundown. Revan was a Jedi Master who fell to the dark side during the Mandalorian Wars. Afterwards, he led an army built by a Rakatan space station called the Star Forge in an invasion of the Republic. Revan was saved from destruction by a team of Jedi and converted back to the light side. He then used fragments of a galactic map built by the Rakatans, called Star Maps, to refind the Star Forge and destroy it along with his old apprentice, Darth Malak.

One Star Map piece was located on Tatooine, in the cave you are now creating a perimeter around. A few days ago, a detachment of Republic troopers noticed Imperial activity in this area. When they were sent back to scout out the activity, they disappeared. Two were found dead of lightning burns and lightsaber wounds and the others were missing. The Jedi who tipped me off to these activities has also gone missing and was found dead minutes ago from lightsaber wounds.

We're not sure what we are going to find here, we're not sure who is behind these attacks, and we're not sure what their motives might be. We do know that there is something here that has drawn the Imperials' attention, and that alone would be enough for concern. The deaths of your comrades and mine  make this investigation all the more pressing. We are working together as a team now, and I will try to protect you from harm with all my strength. May the Force watch over all of you during this mission."


With that, Pendor closed the comm channel and walked towards the cave to see what Techk had found...

 28 
 on: March 10, 2016, 01:02:31 PM EST 
Started by Pendor - Last post by Airgain
So it turns out this was the one i had prepared. Ceid I will get to Under the sun shortly.

 29 
 on: March 10, 2016, 01:01:40 PM EST 
Started by Pendor - Last post by Airgain
Techk ignored the man’s cockiness.

When it comes down to it, you might need him, Techk thought

He listened to the Jedi Master and accepted the datapad. He saluted him as he left. Techk looked down at the datapad and went through it. Seven guys, none of them had worked with him before and none of them would respect him, at least right away. He turned left the room and walked out of the cantina. He made his way back to the garrison. The desk sergeant looked up at him and gave him a quick salute.

Sir, can I help you?

Commission for a contingent of troops,” he said handing over the datapad.

The sergeant sighed and read over the datapad, “Well, I got a squad ready but their Lieutenant isn’t going to like this sir.

They don’t have to like it Sergeant. They just have to follow orders.

The Sergeant looked at him and look at the terminal, “Alright I’ll send the dossier to your datapad. The speeder will be ready for you shortly.

Techk got his datapad and looked over the dossier. These guys hadn’t really seen combat. The Lieutenant had been in a few scrapes but nothing big. The rest were farmers and street punks.

Send them to the briefing room.” Techk said and walked down the hall and ducked into the briefing room and waited.

It took a bit but the squad showed up. Just as he expected the Lieutenant was not happy. He walked right up to Techk and opened his mouth.

Lieutenant, Consider this a standing order. SHUT YOUR MOUTH AND SPEAK ONLY WHEN I TELL YOU TO!” the human shut his mouth and started to shake with rage, “Now let me make this abundantly clear. I know you guys don’t like this. I’m not thrilled about it either, but it doesn’t matter. You have your orders. I have mine. My orders are classified, yours are to protect an asset. We are fighting for the same side here. We are all soldiers of the Republic. This is probably the most exciting thing you will do all year so enjoy it. Now Lieutenant, you may speak.

The Lieutenant opened and closed his mouth a few times.

Nothing to say? Good. Now gather round,” Techk activated the conference table. He brought up the Dune Sea and zoomed in on the cave, “This is what the situation is. There is something in this cave that you are not allowed to know about unless the asset lets you. We are to set up a perimeter around the cave. Nothing comes in without us knowing. Scouts,” Techk zoomed out and set up two markers, “You will position yourselves here and keep an eye open. No pot shots at Sand People unless they engage first and if you see any Imps don’t engage unless told to. Is that clear?” the entire room started to nod their heads, “Good, we move in 10 people get your gear and get loaded up in the transport. Dismissed!” They all saluted him and left.

Techk made his way to the transport and gave it a once over. Slowly the squad showed up and loaded up. Techk got into the pilot’s seat and started it up.

Strap yourselves in, Lieutenant you can speak freely now,” and Techk made for the Dune Sea.

I took a little bit before they arrived. The entire ride not a word was said. Techk circled the area a couple of times and watched the scanner. Nothing showed up. He set down and gave the order. The Scouts were down the ramp before it hit the ground and started off for their positions. Techk left the transport and started for the cave mouth with a private in tow.

The Lieutenant came over the comm, “Captain, scouts are in position and perimeter is almost set.

Good keep me posted. Out. Private stay here,” and Techk went into the cave and started looking around.

 30 
 on: March 10, 2016, 01:06:25 AM EST 
Started by Pendor - Last post by Ceid Ankoun
*Kevin Hart impression* Goin' to LEARN Today!!

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