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Game What if Darth Vader killed Obi-Wan and Palpatine? 10 Years Later: A Star Wars Elseworlds Story

Cardun Vrek

Legendary Member
Moderator
Jedi Council
Lando.jpeg

Theme Music:

Audio Sample of Character's Voice:


Name/Title: Lando Calrissian

Nicknames/Aliases: None

Age: 29

Sex: Male

Species: Human

Orientation: Straight

Homeworld: Socorro

Occupation: ‘Professional Sportsman’, Smuggler, Gambler, Con Artist

Height: 5’10

Weight: 79 kgs

Physical Description: Lando is of average height and weight, and is impeccably groomed, with well kept black hair a moustache.

Clothing: Lando normally wears a set of expensive and fashionable clothes, always accompanied by a cape.

Weapons: X-8 Night Sniper
Lando Blaster.png

Equipment: Smoke Grenades, Stun Grenades, Commlink

Vehicles:

The Millennium Falcon

The Falcon.jpeg
Falcon Plans.jpeg

Languages: Fluent in over 18 different languages- including Basic, Huttese, Shyriiwook, Rodian, Sullustese and three variants of droidspeak, but can only read and write in basic.

Combat Skills:

Lando is a skilled marksman, able to handle most kinds of blasters with ease, though he prefers pistols for ease of use.

Other Strengths:

Smooth Talker

Expert Pilot

Sense of Style

Quick Thinker

Capes

Flaws:

Boastful

Overconfident in his Gambling ability

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Personality:

Lando is a gambler, always out to make credits. He is boastful of his abilities, is extremely charismatic and is a smooth talker. He likes adventure, and seems to enjoy taking risks. He is talkative, and a notorious liar, regularly making up stories about his past life. He is seen as a gentleman, with a good sense of humour and a taste for fashion and culture. He is loyal to those he feels he owes, and tends to keep promises he makes, though he’s not above running away to save his own skin on occasion. He has his own unique sense of honour.

Fears:

Being caught out in one of his schemes

Losing the Falcon

Capes going out of fashion

Likes:

Credits

Women

Sabacc

The Falcon

Stylish clothing

Capes

Colt 45’s

Dislikes:

People insulting his style

Being beaten at Sabacc

Creditors

Bounty Hunters

Habits:

Never goes anywhere without wearing a cape. Pronounces certain words in odd ways.

Relationships/Love Interests: Plenty, but none serious

Friendships: L3-37

Masters: N/A

Apprentices: N/A

Reputation: Lando is a well known gambler and smuggler within the Underworld and Sabaac community, but is relatively unknown to the greater Galaxy.



Biography:

Calrissian’s background is shrouded in mystery. Lando often invents stories about his past or exaggerates the known stories in order to improve his image and reputation. All that is known for sure is that he was born on the planet Socorro some time around 38 BBY. His father imparted a saying that Lando carried into adulthood- ‘You can’t look deeper than your pocket’. By the age of 17, Lando was a skilled Sabacc player, and soon began a career where he took jobs as a smuggler alongside competing in Sabacc tournaments around the Galaxy, acquiring considerable wealth, but also losing lots of it. He also dabbled in various criminal enterprises and cons, which earned him both a reputation and several enemies.



He won the YT-1300 series freighter ‘The Millennium Falcon’ in a game of Sabacc, and began to modify the ship to suit his needs. He also acquired a unique pilot droid- L3-37, who served as his co-pilot onboard the Millennium Falcon. Currently, Lando continues to work as both a smuggler and gambler, always on the lookout for the next potential credit earning opportunity, hoping to one day win a big enough prize that would allow him to settle down and become a semi-legitimate businessman.​
 

Xuul Zephyrot

Active member
Han Solo and Bossk

Han and Bossk.jpeg

Han Solo

Han.jpeg


Theme Music:

Audio Sample of Character's Voice:

Name/Title: Han Solo

Nicknames/Aliases: Vykk Drago, Jenos Idanian

Age: 23

Sex: Male

Species: Human

Orientation: Straight

Homeworld: Corellia

Occupation: Bounty hunter, smuggler

Height: 5’9”

Weight: 176 lbs

Physical Description: A good-looking man of average height with brown hair and eyes, he has an athletic, but not exceptional build. He tends to stand in a relaxed slouch, although it seems very intentional. Despite this posture, he is always subtly alert, and his hand is never too far from his holster.

Clothing: Usually wears a vest with a plain shirt and black pants, with a brown belt and low-slung holster.

Weapons: A280-CFE convertible heavy blaster pistol
DL-44 heavy blaster pistol
Frag grenades, ion grenades

Equipment: assault and sniper modifications for A280, comlink, datapad, macrobinoculars

Vehicles: co-pilot of the Hound’s Tooth (YV-666 freighter)
Hound's Totth.jpeg

Captain of the Corellian Dream (SoroSuub Starmite-class light freighter)
Corellian Dream.jpeg

Pets (if applicable): A-LT utility droid that serves aboard the Dream

Languages: Can understand most common languages, speaks Basic, smuggler cant, Twi’lek, a little Trandoshan

Combat Skills: Extremely fast draw, proficient with blaster pistols and sniper rifles, moderately proficient with blaster rifles, proficient with ship turrets

Other Strengths: extremely skilled at piloting fighters and freighters, charismatic and smooth-talking, though not as much as he thinks he is, cunning and tactical, has the ability to lead

Flaws: arrogant/overconfident about his ability to win, overly cynical about everyone, condescending towards those he views as inferior

Alignment: Chaotic Neutral

Personality: Cocky and charismatic, Han conducts himself with studied ease, seeming to always have things in control, even if he doesn’t. He is the point man in his operations with Bossk, always the one trying to out-talk or outsmart his targets with sheer, brazen nerve. Though he acts in a casual, careless way, his history of betrayal never lets him truly relax. He doesn’t trust anyone, not even Bossk, and his cynicism can’t help but bleed through in his sarcastic comments and wariness of trusting other people. Still, despite his best efforts, and his tattered and deception-filled past, he still can’t quite rid himself of his heart of gold. He sometimes feels compassion, a desire to help others, a desire to love. Most of the time he buries these feelings under a new layer of cynicism, but there’s still an inner turmoil there, a desire for good deeds that could be extricated from the countless layers of distrust and disenfranchisement someday

Fears: Betrayal, being outsmarted, being laughed at, being alone, not being in control, Q’ira, Crimson Dawn

Likes: fast ships and speeders, piloting and repairing said vehicles, hunting his targets, outsmarting his foes, women, money

Dislikes: incompetence, being bored, people smarter than him, equipment not working

Habits: Is prone to comment on having a bad feeling about things he has a bad feeling about

Relationships/Love Interests: Q’ira, Bria Tharen, other brief flings and one-night stands

Friendships: Han has no real friends, but he has a respect for and camaraderie with Bossk, also respects other bounty hunters he’s encountered, such as C-21 Highsinger

Masters: Lady Proxima, Beckett, Bossk

Reputation: Han has made quite a name for himself as an up-and-coming bounty hunter. Though he has only been in the business for two years, employers know they can trust Han to get the job done, whether he’s hunting a target solo or with his partner Bossk. Han primarily takes missions from wealthy patrons and elements of the criminal underworld, though he occasionally takes an Imperial job if the money is good. As a result, he is known much more in the criminal underworld than by the Empire, who hires other bounty hunters regularly, such as Boba Fett

Biography: Han grew up as an orphan on Corellia, becoming an agent of the White Worms and learning the basics of a life of crime. He quickly grew to excel in shooting blasters, hot-wiring electronics, and piloting speeders/ships. When he snagged a vial of coaxium from a job gone wrong, he attempted to escape Corellia with his partner Q’ira. Although she was caught by the vengeful gang, Han managed to evade them, signing up for Imperial service as a pilot.

Though his early years as an Imperial pilot were successful, his recklessness and insubordination increasingly alienated him from both his peers and his superiors. Eventually, he was court-martialed and sent to the infantry on Mimban. After running into Beckett and his gang, Han tried to join the team but was instead accused of desertion by Beckett. Han’s commanding officer, glad to be rid of the mouthy draftee, ordered Han’s execution by firing squad. However, before the squad of troopers could fire on Han, a counter-attack on the Imperial entrenchment by the Mimban locals began, and Han managed to escape in the cross-fire. Sprinting to where Beckett’s gang was repelling the Mimban soldiers while trying to steal the shuttle, Han saved Beckett’s life by shooting a couple Mimban soldiers, despite his hands being cuffed. Impressed, Beckett decided he could use a second trigger-man and brought Han on board.

After making their escape from Mimban, Beckett’s gang swung by Kashyyyk to rendezvous with Bossk, the team’s hired muscle, who had been hunting Wookiees before. They had a brief, action-packed encounter with a hunting party of Wookiees, who had turned the tables on the Trandoshan after he had killed one of their own. Han and his team beat back the Wookiee offensive, giving Bossk time to board their ship. Though Han was roughed up by one of the Wookiees, an especially tall one with keen blue eyes, the party managed to escape Kashyyyk relatively unharmed. The blue-eyed Wookiee watched the ship depart with a fierce anger in his eyes, vowing that someday those who were responsible for his family member’s death would pay.

The newly assembled team made their way to Vandor to steal a shipment of coaxium from an Imperial conveyex. The heist was complicated by a raider gang led by Enfys Nest, and the mission ended in failure, with only Beckett, Han, and Bossk surviving. The trio resolved to team up to report to Crimson Dawn and find a way to square their debt with the criminal organization, knowing that if they tried to run, they would be hunted by death squads the rest of their life. After an unexpected reunion with Q’ira aboard Dryden Vos’s flagship, she was able to calm Dryden and negotiate a compromise, sending the gang to Kessel to retrieve a fortune’s worth of unrefined coaxium.

After chartering Lando, L3-37, and the Millennium Falcon, they set off for Kessel, devising a plan to infiltrate and take control of the mining complex. Han and Bossk would masquerade as slaves, while Q’ira would take the role of a trade director, with Beckett serving as her muscle and L3 as their interpreter droid. The heist went flawlessly, with Han and Bossk’s fake handcuffs allowing them to overpower their guards and go after the coaxium together. Meanwhile, Q’ira overpowered the head overseer and commandeered the control room. L3, in a fit of passionate idealism, freed the droids, who in turn began freeing the slaves all across the mining complex.

Chaos ensued. Han was separated from Bossk as the Trandoshan found the chance to hunt a group of escaping Wookiees too tantalizing to resist. Han retrieved the coaxium and began slowly wheeling it towards the ship. As he struggled with the shipment, he ran across Bossk in pitched battle with the team of Wookiees again. Exasperated, he plunged in, snapping off blaster shots at the Wookiees to divide their attention between the pair. Together, Han and Bossk rebuffed the Wookiee team, who eventually fled to escape the mine. The pair then pushed the coaxium back to the Falcon, Bossk’s prodigious Trandoshan strength making quick work of it.

The rest of the team headed for the Falcon, Bossk picking up L3 in exasperation and bodily carrying her back to the ship as she attempted to stoke the fire of the rebellion. Coaxium on board, the crew escaped Kessel unharmed, making it out of the Akkades Maelstrom just before the arrival of an Imperial Star Destroyer.

Arriving on Savareen, the crew easily off-loaded their cargo. However, while preparing for the arrival of Crimson Dawn, Enfys Nest once again appeared and tried to commandeer the coaxium. With his end of the bargain fulfilled and no desire to mix himself up in further problems, Lando departed Savareen with L3, leaving the group stranded. Thinking fast, Han came up with a strategy that would trick Beckett and Crimson Dawn out of their coaxium. He and Bossk struck a deal with Enfys, demanding a quarter of the coaxium in exchange for helping the raiders steal the fuel from Crimson Dawn.

Han’s plan succeeded, with his fake coaxium leaving Dryden’s men vulnerable to the raiders’ surprise attack, and the real coaxium turning Dryden and Beckett on each other. In the chaos, Beckett escaped with Bossk as hostage, while Dryden and Han duked it out. Q’ira turned on Dryden, killing him and allowing Han to escape. When Han caught up with Beckett and Bossk, however, Beckett was already dead, his blaster pistol insufficient to stop the rampaging Trandoshan from turning on him and tearing him open with his reptilian claws. Despite Q’ira’s promise to join Han, she betrayed him, returning to Maul instead.

However, Han made it out all right. As he and Bossk had planned earlier, Bossk’s ship, the Hound’s Tooth, was already waiting for them, courtesy of the help of C-21 Highsinger, a bounty hunter who had guarded Bossk’s ship while he was hunting on Kashyyyk. The three escaped Savareen with a fortune of coaxium, betraying Enfys Nest and leaving her empty-handed. Finding discreet ways to sell the fuel, they split the windfall three ways, leaving Han with a considerable amount of money to spend. Impressed by the skill Han had shown in their capers, Bossk invited Han to join him as a bounty hunting partner. That way, they could pool their winnings and, already owning a ship, devote their spending to buying some truly top-tier weapons and accessories. Han accepted the arrangement, becoming co-pilot of the Hound’s Tooth and Bossk’s apprentice in bounty hunting.

Han is now a formidable foe. Still relatively well-off from the coaxium, he has top-of-the-line weapons and a devastatingly fast trigger finger to match it. He has been bounty hunting for about two years now and has swiftly risen in notoriety as a deadly bounty hunter, along with his partner Bossk, having swiftly graduated from apprentice to full-time partner. He bought a small SoroSuub freighter and spends some time smuggling in his off-time. However, although he enjoys his missions, he dreams of something bigger. The hurt and betrayal of Q’ira’s turning has hardened into cynicism and a festering dream of revenge. Han dreams of a day when he can confront Q’ira and take revenge on her. She hasn’t tried to send anyone after him, since he knows her secret about how she rose to power, so he has considered taking Crimson Dawn jobs again to get back in contact with her. Someday, he’ll get back at her properly.

Meanwhile, a blue-eyed Wookiee on Kashyyyk still looks up at the stars and dreams of revenge…

Bossk

Bossk 2.jpeg


Theme Music:

Sample of character's voice:

Name/Title: Bossk

Age: 44

Sex: Male

Species: Trandoshan

Orientation (optional): Killing Wookiees

Homeworld: Dosh

Occupation: Bounty Hunter

Height: 6’6”

Weight: 250 lbs

Physical Description: Bossk is an imposing Trandoshan hunter, with the species’ customary scaled, green reptilian skin, red eyes, sensitive snout, mouth full of teeth, and brutal claws on his hands.

Clothing: He is most commonly seen wearing a mustard-yellow jumpsuit and white flak vest, an outfit that has served him well since the Clone Wars.

Weapons: Relby-v10 micro grenade launcher
X-45 blaster rifle
BT X-42 flamethrower

Equipment: Thermal detonators
Dioxis grenades
Proximity mines
Comlink

Vehicles: Hound’s Tooth (YV-666 freighter) (see above)
Nashtah Pup (Z-95 Headhunter)
Nashtah.png

Pets: Wookiee scalps for him to stroke creepily

Languages: Speaks Trandoshan and Basic

Combat Skills: Extremely proficient with heavy weapons, proficient with blaster rifles and pistols, proficient at melee and unarmed combat

Other Strengths: hotwiring speeders, intimidation, sheer physical strength, piloting ships and speeders

Flaws: excessive bloodthirstiness for Wookiees, prideful

Alignment: Lawful Evil

Personality: Bossk is a reptile of few words, preferring to get the job done ruthlessly and efficiently. He is a reliable gun-for-hire who follows the Bounty Hunter’s Code religiously. When not hunting, he is soft-spoken, yet still domineering and ruthless. His hate for Wookiees is at the very core of his being, believing they only exist to be hunted.

Fears: Displeasing the Scorekeeper, being defeated by a Wookiee

Likes: Killing Wookiees, getting the job done, displaying his trophies

Dislikes: Wookiees, people who like Wookiees, his targets whining

Habits: Bossk still instinctively hisses sometimes after speaking or when startled

Relationships/Love Interests: Killing Wookiees

Friendships: Partnership/respect for Han Solo, on good terms with other bounty hunters such as Boba Fett, Dengar, Latts Razzi, C-21 Highsinger, and Embo

Masters: His father Cradossk

Apprentices: Han Solo

Reputation: Bossk is regarded as perhaps the deadliest bounty hunter after Boba Fett. Known equally by the criminal underworld and the Empire, he has taken countless jobs and delivered on almost every one. He is also well respected by his bounty hunting peers, who admire his ruthless efficiency, although he has a burgeoning rivalry with Boba Fett. He is also known and hated amongst the Wookiees, who consider him one of their deadliest and most evil foes.

Biography: Bossk was born and raised a hunter, in the Trandoshan tradition. Starting early, he immediately made a name for himself as a deadly bounty hunter and a menace against the Wookiee people. His notoriety rapidly grew during the Clone Wars, when he partnered with Boba Fett and other bounty hunters in an attempt to kill Mace Windu. Although they were not successful, Bossk gained the respect of the bounty hunters he worked with, increasing his notoriety and the level of jobs he received.

The rise of the Empire was immensely good for business. Whereas the Republic had never outright placed bounties, the Empire immediately produced hundreds of contracts on Jedi, rogue clones, rebellious government officials, dissidents, and more. What’s more, although they never officially endorsed it, the Empire turned a blind eye to the Trandoshan hunting of Wookiees on Kashyyyk, provided they did not become too brazen with it. Bossk scored kill after kill, racking up a veritable army of defeated foes to present to the Scorekeeper when he died.

The caper with Beckett’s gang proved extraordinarily fruitful for Bossk as well. Not only did he score some Wookiee kills on Kessel, but his partnership with Han Solo in hoodwinking both Crimson Dawn and Enfys Nest left him and his partner extremely rich. Their eventual partnership made them an even more imposing force on the galaxy, together rivaling Boba Fett in efficacy and deadliness. Bossk is at the top of his game, securing win after win, and he is perfectly happy with how things are now. He dreams of becoming head of the Bounty Hunter Guild one day, perhaps, and becoming the greatest Trandoshan hunter in history, but for now, he is content to continue hunting Wookiees and targets at the side of Han Solo.
 

Darth Cold

Well-known member
Moderator
Dark Council
(GM Approved)

mgid ao image mtv.com 691881.jpg

Theme Music (optional) Ahsoka's Theme


Name/Title: Ahsoka Tano


Nicknames/Aliases: Snips


Age: 27


Sex: Female


Species: Togruta


Orientation (optional):


Homeworld: Shili


Occupation: Currently Unknown


Height: 6’2”


Weight: 119 lbs.


Physical Description: Orange Skin, White Tattoos, White and Blue Montrals


Clothing: A Red top with cutouts, and matching leggings.


Weapons: a lightsaber, and a shoto both pure white in color


Equipment: Holocom


Vehicles: Whatever is available at the time


Pets (if applicable): N/A


Languages: Galactic Basic, Shyriiwook


Combat Skills (brief summary of general combat strengths, including non-Force-based skills not reflected in Skills statistics section): Hand to Hand Combat


Other Strengths (brief summary of general strengths, including non-Force-based strengths not reflected in Skills statistics section): Echolocation; Mechanic; Talented pilot


Flaws (brief summary of general weaknesses, including non-Force-based weaknesses not reflected in Skills statistics section): Aggressive at times; Thinks she is better than others; Overconfident


Alignment (Lawful/Neutral/Chaotic, Good/Neutral/Evil): Neutral Good


Personality: Selfless, willing to take the blame for her mistakes, and has maternal instincts


Fears: That Anakin can’t be saved from the Darkness that has consumed him


Likes: Being right, proving she is better, and protecting others.


Dislikes: The Dark Side, and innocents being harmed


Habits: Helping those in need


Relationships/Love Interests (if applicable):


Friendships (if applicable): Rex, Morai (Female Convor)


Masters (if applicable): Anakin Skywalker (Former)


Reputation: Forgotten


Biography: Found on her Homeworld of Shili by Jedi Master Plo Koon, Ahsoka was raised as a youngling amongst the Jedi. During the Clone Wars she was assigned to be the padawan of the Great General, and Jedi Knight, Anakin Skywalker. Throughout the course of her apprenticeship with Anakin, Ahsoka became close with her Master, at times without others knowledge considering their relationship to be more familial than as Master and Apprentice.


After she was betrayed by Barriss Offee, and she went through the ordeal of the trial implicating her of Barriss Offee’s own crimes. Once found innocent Ahsoka decided to leave the Jedi Order, and strike out on her own. Eventually she would be recruited by the Republic to help lead their forces to retake Mandalore from Maul. After defeating and capturing Maul, Order 66 was initiated, and she had to avoid the clones she had once fought alongside of. Deciding to free Maul, hoping he would be a good distraction, Ahsoka was able to fake her death, and escape.


Once Anakin took over as Emperor, she knew she couldn’t trust him and continued to stay in hiding. Occasionally visiting old friends who she knew would keep her being alive a secret such as Bail Organa. Wanting to see how far her former Master had fallen she attended a public speech in secret, and listened. Once she was alone after, she cried as that was no longer the man she remembered or had admired.





Skills: Lvl 7


Form I - 4

Form IV - 4

Form V - 4

Form VI - 4

Jar’Kai - 4

Stance Discipline - 4

Augmentation - 1

Force Jump - 4

Telekinesis - 4

Force Push - 4

Levitation - 2

Force Sense - 4

Telepathy - 1

Mind Trick - 4

Beast Trick - 4

Animal Friendship - 4

Force Resistance - 4

Adiabatic Shield - 4

Force Barrier - 4

Protection Bubble - 4

Conceal Essence - 3

Force Bond - 1

Battle Meditation - 4
 

Darth Nathemus

King of Firefist
Staff member
Administrator
Jedi King
Dark Council
Jedi Council
Immortalis
GM Opening Tags Part 1



IC: PROXY and Luke Skywalker
Location: Simulation Room, The Naberrie

It was a typical day for the two sons of the Emperor. Luke Skywalker and Galen Marek spent their days training for eventual combat with the remaining Jedi and terrorist Rebels that still plagued the Galaxy. One such method of their training was by honing their dueling skills against the Emperor's advanced holodroid, PROXY. PROXY could not only approximate every known lightsaber form, but by virtue of his Imperial programming, could assume the appearance of any known individual in the Imperial database.

Today's lesson: how to combat Makashi, the dueling centric lightsaber form. Emperor Skywalker had set aside multiple rooms of his flagship, the Devastator, to be modified holographic chambers used for training his children and other Apprentices. Today, their training room morphed into the visage of the Genosian hangar where Skywalker, Kenobi, and Yoda fought the Sith Lord Darth Tyranus.

When the room morphed, so too did the holodroid. PROXY now approximated the appearance of Count Dooku, and drew a replica curved hilt saber from his belt. With a snap-hiss, the droid ignited its crimson blade. In the commanding voice of the Count, he said, "Your swords, please."

Luke and Galen were standing at the entrance of the hangar in the same place Kenobi and Skywalker were when they arrived so many years earlier. Luke spoke first to his adopted brother. "Galen, remember what father taught us about Dooku. Let's take him together. It's the only way to stop him." When he spoke, he also ignited the azure blade of Kenobi that was gifted by his father.

TAG: @Rayge


----------------------------------------




IC: Dryden Vos
Location: Maul's Grotto, Dathomir

The mission had been a resounding success according to the boy's last received transmission. Dryden Vos, public leader of the Crimson Dawn Crime Syndicate, had sent two of his best men to Nar Shaddaa for a search and retrieve mission.

A few days after leaving Dathomir, the Slave I returned to take payment. Today, it not only carried its owner, the famed bounty hunter Boba Fett, but also Crimson Dawn's true leader Maul's own Apprentice, the young Ezra Bridger. The two were greeted by Vos as they touched down on the planet and were subsequently taken to Maul's personal hideaway. "Welcome back, Fett, Ezra. I will bring you to the Master where we will discuss payment as promised. I trust that you both have returned in one piece, and returned with the Fifth Brother's lightsaber and Imperial Inquisitorius clearance codes. The Master will be most displeased if you failed him."

Soon after, the three men arrived before the Crime Lord. Dryden knelt before him and said, "Hail, Lord Maul. Your Apprentice and Boba Fett have returned from their mission. It is time to see if they were successful or if they have deceived us. If they have succeeded in their pursuit of the Inquisitor, we ought to pair them off with the Corellian and his pet to go hunting for the Jedi if it be your will."

As the criminal leaders gathered, off in the distant shadows, Maul had a lone Nightsister Witch standing by to terminate the bounty hunter if they failed. But on the off chance that they successfully defeated an Inquisitor, she'd be joining their next mission.

TAG: @Catalyst , @Hadzuska_The Jester , @DarthFeros, @Darth Traya


--------------------------------------


IC: Darth Vader
Loaction: Valley of the Dark Lords, Korriban

When Anakin Skywalker assumed control of the Galactic Empire from his late Master, there was little he knew about the Order of the Sith Lords, as they were called during the Banite Era. However, Palpatine did teach him of one world.

Pesegam.

Korriban.

Moraband.


The ancestral homeworld of the Sith was the first Sith world visited by the newly minted Darth Vader after his galactic rule was firmly planted. It was on Korriban that he would rebuild the Sith Order in secret. It was on Korriban that the Sith would experience their trials and prepare themselves for the inevitable full scale rebellion of any so-called freedom fighters who would no doubt be led by the remnants of the Jedi Order that did not swear themselves to Emperor Skywalker.

On Korriban, Vader appeared in his full Dark Armor, complete with his helmet and rebreather, though not out of necessity. It was his chosen appearance here. In the Valley outside the gate to the Tomb of Ajunta Pall, Vader gathered together three of his most loyal Sith. Lord Cronal, Headmaster of the Sith Academy. Jerec, Inquisitor and the first Apprentice of Cronal. Kharys, the winged Sith Apprentice of Lord Vader himself.

"Welcome to the Valley of the Dark Lords," Vader's deep voiced boomed through the arid valley. "One of you as explored these Tombs with me at the surface level years ago. But the surface will not suffice if we are to learn the secrets of the Sith."

Vader moved to the door of the Tomb of Ajunta Pall and it opened. For in this Tomb, only the Jen'ari may open the door. The four were met with a ten meter hallway before it split into three distinct passages. "Apprentice Kharys, lead our way forth. Which path will lead us to the secrets of the first Jen'ari, the first Dark Lord of the Sith?"

TAG: @Ānhrā Māhnîu, @Darth Sedicious (pending CS)
 
Last edited:

Admiral Volshe

Legendary Member
NGE Empress
100% Certified GM Approved! ™️

A93F402A-A34F-48C4-BB93-335C452E19D3.jpeg

Name/Title: Captain Firmus Piett

Nicknames/Aliases: None.

Age: 29 (born in 39 BBY)

Sex: Male

Species: Human

Orientation (optional): Heterosexual, presumably.

Homeworld: Axxila

Occupation: Captain

Height: ~1.65 m

Weight: 70 kg

Physical Description: See image.

Clothing: Nothing considered extravagant, he is most usually seen in an officer’s uniform.

Weapons: Standard issue holdout pistol.

Equipment: Comm, anything standard issue (medpack, etc)

Vehicles: N/A

Pets (if applicable): N/A

Languages: Basic, Bocce, Huttese.

Combat Skills: Standard combat training as a result of his time in the Academy - naval tactics and strategy are far more his strength.

Other Strengths: Very keen negotiator and politician, so to speak (though uses these “talents” for ascending the ranks of the Navy, not for diplomacy).

Flaws: Overly ambitious, can be manipulative.

Alignment: Lawful neutral.

Personality: Shrewd and analytical, with a knack for navigating the complexities of warfare, Captain Piett is most often seen as focussed and devoted. He is far more than just a military presence, however, and is beneath his surface a rather compassionate and feeling man - there is simply little room to display such or act in regard of such in his position. He has hopes and aspirations, he is just intelligent enough to understand he must keep them close to his chest.

Fears: Death.

Likes: ??

Dislikes: ??

Habits: ??

Relationships/Love Interests: Countess Valyn Sodervall (wife)

Friendships (if applicable): Moff Pensar Luc, Captain Xamuel Lennox, Captain Lorth Needa, Captain Antoiz Obelon.

Reputation: Captain Piett is well-known for his astute judgment and his impeccable service record. Although not as incredible or breathtaking in his exploits as some, he is well respected by most who know of him.

Biography: Born and raised on Axxila, Firmus Piett spent most of his life and career within the Ciutric Hegemony. He attended the Imperial Naval Academy, and was well noted as an excellent student, graduating the same year the Clone Wars quite ceremoniously ended.

He then spent many years with the Axxilan anti-pirate fleet, a division of the Planetary Defence Force. He was quickly noticed. At only 26, he was promoted to Lieutenant, taking the helm of the Axxilan trade enforcement division. His leading of the project saw a remarkable improvement in the system’s safety, to the point that Axxila became the safest in the Outer Rim. It was this accomplishment that earned him a position as a Captain, noticed by those within the Core.

He now serves as a Captain, recently promoted into the personal fleet of the Emperor, in command of the ISD Accuser.
 

DarthFeros

Active member
Moderator
Jedi Council
IC: Boba Fett
Maul's Grotto
Dathomir



The ramp lowered with a classic whirring hiss, revealing Boba Fett standing there in his trademark pose, EE-3 propped on the crook of his hip, his right leg holding his weight. No one would have known it, but he was scowling and seething behind the cover of his helmet.


The boy tagging along was one thing, though Fett hadn't been an overly large fan of that either. But Boba Fett hated dealing with Force sensitive marks. He got hired to do it almost exclusively, because he was good at it. But that didn't change the fact that he hated doing it. He'd watched a Jedi kill his father.


What was more, Maul, nor the barvy puppet he had running his day to day, had told him him mark was Force sensitive. Needless to say, that had rubbed Fett the wrong way. Not as wrong as it had rubbed his target though, who was now just a pile of ashes. He'd blasted him point blank with a K-11 after he'd taken his code canister off of his belt. He didn't figure his employer would mind. No one had said anything to him about no disintegrations.


Fett waved his gauntleted hand at Vos when the man spoke to him. "Stuff it in a jet, Dryden, and take me to your boss. I'm not your babysitter, and we have some terms to adjust."


Fett was silent for the short trip to Maul's lair. He saw the Zabrak sitting upon his seat, and reached into his pouch. When his hand came back out, it held a small code cylinder. His other slung his EE-3, and unclipped the lightsaber from his belt. He actioned a series of blinks and winks to silently arm his knee rockets and Gauntlet mounted blaster, just in case. One could never be too sure.


"You didn't tell me he was Force sensitive, Maul. Much less a dark side user. Your ward, or apprentice, or whatever you call him, almost died. You're lucky you hired me for the job." Fett paused here to frame his words. The next part was going to be touch and go, but no one ever said Bounty Hunting was easy. "I know the deal we made. But I'm altering the deal. I want double what you agreed to pay me. I don't like being lied to, or going in without all the info. So, you pay me double and everyone gets what they want. Or, you disagree, and I'll crush this code cylinder in my palm, and kill me or not, all you get for your trouble is this pretty little glow rod"


TAG: @Catalyst , @Hadzuska_The Jester , @Darth Nathemus, @Darth Traya






 

Catalyst

The Cunning Linguist
Moderator
Underworld Ruler
Immortalis
CONVOLUTED COMBO: SPICY DATHOMIR STYLE!

IC Maul & Gethzerion
Dathomir

The blackened walls of Maul's chamber flickered with green light as eldritch incense from Nightsister candles burned around him. His meditative state was only interrupted by the utterances of madness still lingering in his mind. "Always remember: I am fear," he repeated the mantra to himself. "Always remember: I am hunter." Flashes of his lost family flashed in his mind. Savage, the brother that brought him back from insanity. Talzin, who restored his mind and reinvigorated his hatred. Kenobi, his hated enemy, now only a void in his psyche, resonating with the same empty pain of losing a loved one. "Always remember, I am nothing." The Darksider's hatred burned brightly in the Force.


Across the swamps, a curious sensation tickled his senses. It was a familiar presence, yet foreign to him. The echo was unmistakably a manifestation of Nightsister Magick. Maul's eyes snapped open. The Nightsisters were dead, slaughtered by General Grievous before the end of the Clone Wars. Yet, this pocket of Magick still existed. He had to know more.


Bloodfin II cut through the red mists of Dathomir, carrying Maul to the source of the Magick he thought inaccessible. If he could resurrect the Nightsisters once again, he could rebuild Dathomir as a seat of Dark Side power, and fulfill his own debt to Mother Talzin for restoring him from his broken state. He breathed deep the acrid mist, and steeled himself. If this was a surviving Nightsister, she would likely be expecting an attack. His status as Nightbrother would help him survive, but at the cost of his agency, if she was a traditionalist. No, this alliance would have to be different if it was to benefit both of them. Maul would be nobody's slave again.


Every night, just after the engorged bloody sun dipped below the horizon, Gethzerion conjured a storm. The storm would last only a few minutes, but any that happened to witness it could tell from its ichor-tinged clouds and blazing emerald lighting bolts that this was no natural storm. It was a beacon to the Nightsisters…to the scattered, starved, and broken remnants of witches that survived the assault of the machine army. Her beacon manifested only for a few minutes, a lure both visual and tangible to those who could feel the Magick. She would wait for an hour to see if any Sister responded. A handful of times her summons brought the ragged, wounded remnants of her order. More often than not it attracted the thunderous stomping of rancors trained as mounts by the rival Singing Mountain Clan. Each night Gethzerion moved onward, seeking each forest, mountain, swamp, and cavern for her lost Sisters.


Only thirty were left now, there were more in the initial days of the battle, but they soon died from their wounds. The Nightsisters were no stranger to loss and death, yet even as they bathed their sisters’ bodies, and wrapped them in enchanted braided cloth, and encased them in burial pods, they wept vehemently. With the loss of Old Daka, none knew the spells to call their Sisters back into battle.


Gethzerion shed no tears however, so long as her heartbeat in her shriveled bosom the Nightsisters would not die. And Gethzerion’s mind dwelled upon a new era of expansion, an expansion so vast that a singular battle on one field would not spell the massacre of her order.


She had to leave Dathomir.


Her conjured storm had faded half an hour ago when she heard something alien approaching, the whine of approaching machinery. “Run! Hide if you can!” she whispered to the Sisters, which obediently took to the trees or cloaked themselves in camouflaging spells.


Gethzerion stood in the middle of the festering swamp, a withered crone in tattered black robes, four poisoned kunai tucked into the frayed sleeves, her white hair gathered in a braid and deeply bruised face held proud in the acrid mist. She waited for the arrival of the stranger.


The spirits whispered faintly to her that this was no mere wayward traveler. This arrival might shatter worlds.



Maul's speeder screamed through the fading evening light, its distinct crescent shape bringing to mind the rolling chassis of a Separatist Droideka. A trail of dust whipped up in his wake as he sped from his hideout towards the source of the Magick aura. He let the Force guide him, its familiar energy pointing the way.


Minutes, hours, kilometers, he was not keeping track of how long the venture was. The only measure in his mind was the barometer of Force presence that grew stronger as he approached the last vestige of Magick. The dusty badlands gave way to swamps; and the acrid dust turned humid and acidic in his mouth. But he pressed on. He had to. For Savage, for Talzin, for the only semblance of family he had.


The lone figure standing in the swamp would have taken him by surprise were he not certain that she was exactly who he was searching for. The speeder decelerated with a groan, and he turned as it stopped. He dismounted the hover bike, his mechanical feet sinking slightly in the soft loam, and stepped towards the being cautiously. "You must be the witch," he spoke softly. "I am Maul, last of the Nightbrothers."


Gethzerion suppressed a flinch when the machine…what she supposed was a land speeder, at last came to a groaning stop. Naturally she distrusted all things mechanical, yet not out of religious fervor. Rather she simply didn’t understand them, yet she had little choice but to embrace such machines if she were to bring her plans into fruition. One could not simply leave Dathomir without a ship meant to withstand the emptiness of space.


A Nightbrother! Well, this was unexpected. Unexpected but not improbable. None of the Nightbrothers had responded to her call before, yet a male was exactly what the Sisters needed.


“Maul…” Gethzerion repeated. “You have a familiar aura about you. I am Gethzerion, the clan Mother of the Nightsisters.” She spoke, her voice as aged and weary as she physically appeared.


"The Nightsisters are dead," Maul prodded at her, a snarl creeping into his voice. "Massacred by the Sith. I watched my Mother Talzin die at their hands." He took another step towards her, a seething malevolence radiating from him. "You may lay claim to the title of Clan Mother, but I do not see a clan, Gethzerion."


Gethzerion returned a wry smile to the male. His coloration was fearsome indeed, scarlet as the sunlight of Dathomir with stark black tattoos. His seething tone is even more intimidating. “Your Mother, Talzin? I trained her, and I felt her death, just as I felt the massacre of hundreds of the sisters that learned from me . Did she teach you the ways of the Magicks, Maul? Have you read the Book of Shadows? The Nightsisters formed from my actions, my teachings. What remains of the clan I have been seeking out, healing and training. I stand now as their voice. Why have you answered my summons?”


A sudden subdued wistfulness crossed Maul's face, before being replaced once again with anger. "I know very little of witch Magick. I was snatched from my mother's arms, stolen by the Sith to be used and discarded. Only after being left for dead, did I learn that I was but a pawn to their plans. Savage," his voiced cracked with pain, "my brother, he rescued me. Brought me home once more, but it was too late. The clan had been wiped out by the droid armies, and Mother Talzin had a shadow of her power left. She restored my body and my spirit, so that I could exact my vengeance." He sighed. "I failed her, and now the Sith control everything." Regaining his composure, he met her gaze. "If the Nightsisters are to rise again, then we have a common enemy in the Sith, and the Emperor. Help me destroy them, and together, we can ensure the Magick never fades from Dathomir."


For but a moment a faint expression of empathy crossed Gethzerion’s withered and bruised features. The ritual of tattooing to cover the marks left by using the Dark Magicks was not one she’d adopted, but rather evolved over the years within the clan. “So long as a single witch survives, the Nightsisters will remain. Not many Sisters survived, those that do are cautious. But their hatred burns the same as yours Nightbrother Maul.” she inclined her head to meet his burning gaze. He indeed possessed the might of Mother Talzin. “Then it seems we indeed have a common goal. It is my will that the Sisters rise again, and that we populate more than mere Dathomir. If the Sith, and their Emperor, would seek to destroy us and extinguish the magicks, then I will fight with every spell I can conjure.”


A cruel smile flashed across Maul's face. "And a fight you shall have, Mother Gethzerion. But we cannot wage open war with Skywalker," the Nightbrother spat the name. "Not yet, at least. Gather the Sisters, they may stay within the grotto, out of the elements. There is a web of discord forming against the Empire, and I intend to make allies among them before striking." He turned his back to the shaman and mounted his speeder. "At last, the ichor will flow once more. The Nightsisters are not dead, as long as one witch lives."


Gethzerion made an arcane hand motion with her gnarled fingers, only three sickly, near skeletal Nightsister emerged from the thorny foliage, each too weak to raise camouflages. “My witches are attuned to surviving the elements, only these afflicted ones will require shelter. Myself and them will accompany you. When we arrive I want to know all about the galaxy beyond Dathomir. What exactly is this Sith threat and why did the machines slaughter our people?”


The Zabrak adjusted his position on his speeder, allowing room for the witches to squeeze aboard. "The droid armies were but one piece of the Great Plan put into motion," Maul explained as they rode forth. "For one thousand years, the Sith plotted to rule the galaxy. The Nightsisters were one of the few parties with the power to oppose the regime, and because they did not unquestioningly ally themselves with the Sith, they were eliminated from the equation." A hiss crept into his voice. "The prophesied Chosen One, Skywalker, was the key to their takeover. He was to bring balance to the Force. It appears that his methodology involved reducing himself to the only one able to wield it." An amused scoff escaped his throat. "Even Sidious in all his preparation did not see the threat past his own ambition. Ironic, but fitting.”


The wounded sisters took on expressions of delight in pressing so tightly to the muscular shoulders of such a fearsome Nightbrother. Gethzerion took her place behind her charges, having long past her mating years, and far too focused on the opportunity this male brought rather than his physical prowess. “The Magicks of outsiders sound as flawed and broken as the schism upon Dathomir. It’s a pattern of nature, that one always breaks the Magick apart, proclaim one half is superior and war until only the wounded are left surviving. The galaxy mirrors with its Sith and it’s Skywalker mirrors the woes of Dathomir then. So what part do you play in this unending galactic conflict, Nightbrother Maul? You don’t speak like one with mere aspirations, but as one with a plan, and with followers that align to your cause. Is this correct?”


A mad chuckle escaped Maul's lips as he gunned the speeder and it whined in protest of the extra weight. "A plan? I have much more than that, my lady Gethzerion. A purpose. A drive. My life was stolen from me by one who sought to conquer. It is the will of the Force that I am to right his wrongs, and undo the machinations carried on by his progeny." His tone settled, becoming much more calculating. "As for followers, there are many chafing under Imperial rule. Most suffer from a lack of organization, and unification. All I needed to do was prove that syndication was mutually beneficial." He snorted. "Some still refuse to cooperate, but they will learn soon enough that the Force is a powerful ally to command."


Gethzerion smiled grimly and wondered if these were the exact same mistakes that Mother Talzin made which eventually led to the demise of the Nightsisters. Did she heed the calls of spirits believing her actions and that of Asajj Ventress would lead them to victory against a galactic menace? Yet, what choice did Gethzerion have, with only scattered and dying sisters to tend to before surrendering them to burial pods? The only powerful being to answer her summons was this Nightbrother, this was her only hope for vengeance. “Mayhap I can lead my Magicks to your cause, Nightbrother Maul. And the Force, what is this concept you mention?”


"Simply a different application of Magick, harnessed by the Jedi, and the Sith," Maul responded politely, if matter-of-factly. "Many names, I have seen for it, but all the same in purpose."


Gethzerion fell silent after this response and left the Nightbrother to guide the machinery. She would need to focus on learning and observing all she could to fulfil her purpose, to leave Dathomir and strike out into the galaxy.


The ride back to Maul's grotto went significantly quicker than the venture into the wilds. He pulled into his makeshift hangar and made a motion for the sisters to dismount. "You may make yourselves at home; as this was once the location of a coven I expect you shall find it suitable for habitation." His tone was unintentionally cold but the welcome was no less sincere. They were a clan once more.

Three weeks later
Maul's Grotto, Dathomir

Peace is a lie, there is only passion.

Maul sat in a trancelike state on his throne, hands folded in front of him and eyes closed in deep concentration.

Through passion, I gain strength.

Muscled tensed across his body, as he reflexively flexed and stretched.

Though strength, I gain power.

A faint ripple of energy extended outward, lifting small stones into an orbit around him.

Through power, I gain victory.

Through victory my chains are broken.


The Force sha-

"Hail, Lord Maul."

The Dathomirian Zabrak's eyes shot open as the rubble in his vicinity cascaded back to the ground. He eyed his majordomo, Dryden Vos, with cruel contempt for interrupting his meditation, but allowed him to continue. "Your Apprentice and Boba Fett have returned from their mission. It is time to see if they were successful or if they have deceived us. If they have succeeded in their pursuit of the Inquisitor, we ought to pair them off with the Corellian and his pet to go hunting for the Jedi if it be your will."

Maul regarded the approach of his young apprentice, and the marginally older bounty hunter, seeking visual confirmation of their victory. It didn't take long for the Mandalorian to give him exactly that. Presenting the desired spoils of their mission, Fett was already on the attack. "You didn't tell me he was Force sensitive, Maul. Much less a dark side user. Your ward, or apprentice, or whatever you call him, almost died. You're lucky you hired me for the job." Fett paused. "I know the deal we made. But I'm altering the deal. I want double what you agreed to pay me. I don't like being lied to, or going in without all the info. So, you pay me double and everyone gets what they want. Or, you disagree, and I'll crush this code cylinder in my palm, and kill me or not, all you get for your trouble is this pretty little glow rod"

Maul couldn't help but chuckle at the brazenness of the young man's demands. Certainly, he held what he felt was the bargaining chip against his life, but the crime lord knew there were a dozen other inquisitors and a hundred other bounty hunters to hire. A younger, more impulsive Maul would have immediately brought Fett to his knees, and made him beg for even a fraction of his desired payment. Such insolence could not be tolerated. But in one regard, the Mandalorian was correct. He was lucky to have been the chosen candidate for the job. Maul's eyes drifted to Ezra, and he looked the boy up and down, examining him for injury. The boy did not appear to be overly damaged, something Fett could consider himself doubly lucky for. The Zabrak stood from his seat, his mechanical legs clicking and groaning slightly as he erected himself. "So you're telling me," he spoke slowly and calmly, presenting an ever-unflappable demeanor to the bounty hunter, "that when I hired you to bring me the lightsaber of an Imperial Inquisitor," the deliberate emphasis punctuating his point, "you did not deduce that the Inquisitor who would be using said lightsaber, was perhaps a Force user? Perhaps I overestimated your reasoning capabilities, Fett." From its space on the wall, another lightsaber, suspiciously similar to the one Fett held in his hand, was called to the horned crime lord, and its dual crimson blades ignited with a snap-hiss as he caught it. "I could have easily chosen Bane, or perhaps Embo or Shand, all reputable and successful hunters in their own right, and all capable of handling an Inquisitor without complaint. Why come here and waste my time with your petty demands, when you're just a small player in this galactic game? A simple man making his way through the galaxy would do well to not endanger his own life for a few credits. You performed the agreed upon task. You can either accept the agreed upon payment alongside the opportunity to work again, or you can be honored with the same fate as your progenitor, and I lose nothing but time." He glanced at Gethzerion in the dark recesses of the chamber, silently warning her to prepare herself, before his gaze returned to Fett. "I promise you, there is no third option."

TAG: @Hadzuska_The Jester @Darth Traya @DarthFeros @Darth Nathemus
 
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corinthia

Administrator
Staff member
Administrator
Immortalis
241447634_4443913552393382_1505775180582199227_n.jpg241390339_1225728424520723_6070131770486642101_n.jpg

Name: Padme Amidala Skywalker

Age: 36

Sex: F

Species: Human

Homeworld: Naboo

Occupation: Wife to Emperor Anakin Skywalker, Empress Consort

Height: 5'3"

Physical Description: Padme is a slender, attractive woman with a heart-shaped face with gentle features; she has long medium brown hair and warm brown eyes, and has a beauty mark on one cheek. Her skin is a light, milky color, and she has begun to develop fine lines around her eyes due to the stress of her position.

Clothing: Padme owns a regal wardrobe fitting of any Emperor's wife, and has retained her same sense of taste in fashion from her days as Queen and Senator of Naboo. She wears extravagant, beautiful garments of sumptuous textiles and embellishments.

Weapons: A small holdout blaster, and a small silver dagger which she keeps tucked somewhere in her clothing at all times.

Equipment: All the necessities a woman of her position would have access to.

Vehicles: A personal speeder of elegant design, and a Nabooian yacht.

Languages: Galactic Basic, others

Combat Skills: Padme is quite the capable fighter, and is well-versed in self-defense tactics as well as marksmanship. She developed remarkably extensive combat skills for a Senator throughout the Clone Wars, as well as from her time as Queen of Naboo.

Other Strengths: Padme has razor-sharp intellect and a knack for navigating dangerous and tricky political and diplomatic waters. She is a devoted and immensely willful woman, as well as being clever, tactful, strategic, and conspiratorial—when she needs to be.

Flaws: Padme's downfall has always been how deeply she feels about the things that matter to her—her children, her cause, her home, the state of the galaxy, her husband, her friends. While this can also be played as a strength, more often than not it can be the one chink in her armor that brings her down.

Alignment: Lawful Good

Personality: A benevolent and compassionate woman by nature, Padme is a strong-minded and strong-willed woman with a penchant for politics and philanthropy. She is calm and unflappable; yet she holds to her convictions with a fierce intensity. She can be fiery and sharp-tongued at times.

Fears: Padme fears for her children's future, and fears for the future of the galaxy.

Likes: Reading, democracy, spending time with her children, Naboo Lake Country, five-blossom bread

Dislikes: Injustice, cruelty, the suffering of others

Relationships/Love Interests: Emperor Anakin Skywalker (Husband), Leia Skywalker (Daughter), Luke Skywalker (Son)

Friendships: Senator Mon Mothma, Senator Bail Organa

Reputation: Padme's reputation as a Senator was that of being a staunch defender of democracy; she is also known for being kind, compassionate, and always willing to help those in need. She is well-loved by the public.

Biography: Same backstory until 19 BBY.

It began with the birth of her twins—Leia and Luke—and the downfall of her love on the molten planet of Mustafar. She had just learned of Anakin's misdeeds at the Jedi temple on Coruscant, and had wanted to confront her husband and bring him back towards goodness and light, away from evil like murder and treachery.

Strangled and suffering on a sweltering landing platform, Padme made a choice: she could not follow Anakin down a path like this one. But with her two children about to enter into the world… she would stick with him. For Leia. For Luke.

In their early years, Padme lived with her children on her homeworld of Naboo, in the Lake Country where they had once dreamed about raising their children. Meanwhile, Anakin busied himself building his Empire on Coruscant; and Padme busied herself planning ways to tear it down. She turned to her closest friends, Bail Organa and Mon Mothma, for support as she entrenched herself at Anakin's side as Empress Consort after returning to Coruscant when Luke and Leia were older. She allowed them to be trained under Anakin as Imperial Knights, their skill in the Force having been made apparent very early in their young lives.

Now, Padme is but a shell of the person she once was; she waits, and she hopes beyond hope that the man she loves will return to once again inhabit the body of Anakin Skywalker.
 

Darth Nathemus

King of Firefist
Staff member
Administrator
Jedi King
Dark Council
Jedi Council
Immortalis
GM Update

IC: Artel Draco

Location: The Chimaera, Above Alderaan; Rebel Base, Alderaan
In another time, the mountainous world of Alderaan would have been home to the orphaned child of Lord Vader and his widow, Padmé Amidala. However, that is where the difference on Alderaan ends.

In our time, the world is still very much steeped in the seeds of Rebellion. Secretly fueled by Queen Breha and her husband Sentor Bail Organa, they house a remote rebel base on the eastern side of the planet tucked away in a hollowed out mountain cavern. Among those presently stationed here are an old Jedi General, Jun Monar, and the former student of Emperor Skywalker, Ahsoka Tano. In addition to the volunteer officers and soldiers within the base, General Monar's 88th Legion of Clone Troopers still loyally serve at his side.

Outside the cavern base, Commander Wolf and a small squad of his Troopers stand guard and patrol, but as a Sergeant looks out in the distance through his macrobinoculars, he could not believe his eyes. "General Monar, Commander Tano! We've got company!"

Brothers.

For weeks, the Emperor’s Fist had been sweeping the planet in search of the hidden rebel base. Led by the Imperial Knight Master, Artel Draco, and Major Rex who served with distinction during many battles of the Clone Wars, the 501st was also accompanied by Imperial Security Bureau Agent Kallus. It was Kallus who had received a tip from his interior contact. The smuggler Lando Calrissian would be compensated handsomely by the Empire if his information that the Emperor’s old Padawan was alive and with these Rebels.

The ISB was lucky this cell hired him for supply running, for without Calrissian, they would not have a chance at one of the Emperor’s highest priorities.

Across the valley at the mountain's base, Draco smiled. They'd found their target. "Major Rex, prepare the troops. They may have brothers on the other side, but if they do not serve the Emperor, then they are no brothers of yours." //Hopefully this means Calrissian's telling the truth.// "Grand Admiral Thrawn," Draco called the bridge of the orbiting Chimaera. "We've discovered the location of the rebel base. My Legion is ready at your command. Your strategy will pave our way to a swift victory. If our intel proves factual, there are two Jedi in the base."

TAG: @Senec Tinople @Cardun Vrek @Hadzuska_The Jester @Catalyst @Volacius @DarthFeros
 

Volacius

Active member
IC: Jun Monar and Commander Wolf
Rebel Base, Alderaan

There was a disturbance in the Force. The feeling washed over Jun Monar’s senses, a trickle of tension hinting to a foreboding reality. The seasoned Jedi knew that the Empire’s relentless hunt for survivors of his Order would eventually catch up to him. One could only run from a galaxy-spanning dictatorship for so long. But to think that they’d found him here atop the glistening, snow-covered mountains and serene valleys of Alderaan. Jun had taken solace in the picturesque elegance of Alderaan’s mountain ranges, meditating and drawing closer to the Light side of the Force assisted by the simple, natural beauty that surrounded him. Sergeant Steel’s voice only served to confirm the unsettled feeling in the pit of his stomach, a feeling of dreadful anticipation and regret at the destruction that was soon to be wrought: The Empire had found them.

Outside the base, Wolf’s grip on his DC-15 blaster rifle tensed, years of ingrained discipline keeping his hold of the weapon steady. A sickly taste saturated his tongue, the anticipation of an unavoidable conflict. The clone veteran narrowed his brow beneath his helmet, proud to finally wear his old armour into battle once again instead of his humiliating mercenary disguise. Now, just as before, he and his brothers—his true brothers—would score a victory, even if it was only ensuring the successful evacuation of all Rebel personnel within the hidden outpost. The time had come to fight.

For the Republic.

Releasing the handle of his rifle, Wolf tapped his wrist-mounted communicator. “Confirmed!” He stated sharply. “We have hostiles in close proximity to the base. Unless you have orders, we’ll RTB immediately to help prepare our defenses.”

“I agree, Commander,” Jun responded over his own comlink. “Get back here as quick as you can. I’ll alert the others and have the Fidelis make preparations for takeoff.”

“Understood.” Wolf looked to the rest of the patrol squad, all good men with just as much experience under their belts as him. “Steel! You and I will lead the way. Kickback, Gearhead, bring up the rear and watch our backs. Alright troopers, double-time it!”

Fidelis, this is Jun. Rish,” the Jedi said as calmly as he could manage, addressing the clone pilot that was likely on the bridge, “the Imperials have found the base. Get the ships ready for atmospheric flight and make the calculations for our jump to Lightspeed once we break orbit.” Turning from his communicator, Jun looked over to Ahsoka, the former apprentice to Anakin Skywalker who stood across from him in the command center. He’d scarcely even met her during the war, but word of her exploits with her former master had spread far and wide, often increasing the morale of his own forces with stories of wildly improbable victories against even the likes of the fearsome General Grievous. “So,” he addressed the Togruta woman as he moved to sound the alarms, “We need to put together a solid defense, or we’ll never get all our people out of here. Any suggestions?”

TAG: @Darth Nathemus @Senec Tinople @Cardun Vrek @Hadzuska_The Jester @Catalyst @Volacius @DarthFeros
 
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Cardun Vrek

Legendary Member
Moderator
Jedi Council
IC: Lando Calrissian
On board the Millenium Falcon, Cavern Base, Alderaan

The Calrissian Chronicles; Chapter 6, Continued.
“Now, I personally don’t think much of the Hutt Cartel, but one would be a fool to underestimate just how tricky they can be to deal with. So, when a number of thugs under their employ had L3 and I cornered in the back alleys of Nar Shaddaa, it would be safe to assume that this, dear listener, was the end of Lando Calrissian. But as you already know, I’ve gotten out of worse scrapes than this one I found myself in. And the leader of this gang of mercenaries, a Klaatoonian by the name of Roka, wasn’t exactly the most attentive fellow. Whilst he was going through a large list of ways he was intending to torture both myself and my plucky droid partner, he did not even notice the stun charge I had slipped out of my sleeve and activated. A few moments later, his entire gang lay on the ground incapacitated, and I grabbed the Imperial shipping manifest that I had been hired to ‘acquire’ from agents of the Hutts. Another successful job, a decent amount of credits, and to top it off the Empire does not know to this day that the reason that their cargo transport routes in the Stygian Caldera are being raided is because of yours truly. After all, I have always disliked the Empire, and the-”




“Turn that off, L3.”


“Why? Can’t bear to listen to the man you used to be? The man who had principles?”

Lando sighed, and didn’t answer, but turned the holoprojector off himself with the remote. Annoyingly, L3 was partially correct. A few years ago he’d have never dreamed of selling anyone out to the Empire. But the money they were offering had been too good to turn down, and, besides, eventually he would have to give this game up, as much as he enjoyed it. He would have to find somewhere he could settle, preferably far from Imperial eyes, and live out the rest of his life with the money he had made over the years, playing sabacc, enjoying some well earned comforts, entertaining interesting people with his exploits, and going cruising in the Falcon every so often when he felt like it.

But still, as much as he suppressed it, the guilt from what he had done was ever so slightly niggling away at him. But, you couldn’t look further than your own pocket. That was one of the few things his father had taught him. As much he disagreed with the Empire, they offered him a chance to retire, for good, this time. So, he simply stood in silence whilst L3 robotically scoffed and walked back into the Millennium Falcon’s main hold, continuing to busy himself in the engine room adjusting the cooling settings on the secondary engine system, just in case he needed to make a quick exit. He knew the Empire was on its way, and that despite cutting a deal with them, he wasn’t exactly safe.

“Okay, baby, let's see how this goes.” He said, shutting the access panel and rebooting the engine system. It purred into life, and Lando smiled. “Never let me down yet.” He took a sip of caff from a mug sitting on a nearby table, and lingered, not wanting to give L3 the chance to give him another lecture. He really should’ve taken her for a memory wipe, but, annoying as she often could be, he could never bring himself to do it, even after the near fiasco on Kessel.

Kessel, that’s where the trouble had started. He had been happy on Vandor, raking in healthy amounts of credits playing sabacc whilst he prepared to get the Falcon out of that imperial impound lot. But then, Qi’ra had shown up with a deal that would have earned him more than enough to retire on. The run itself had gone fine enough, minus the slave breakout on Kessel. They had got the coaxium, and then got it to Savareen. But then Enfys Nest and her marauders had shown up, and Lando had high-tailed it out of there. After all, he was only hired to get them to Kessel and then to a refinery, and he had fulfilled his end of the deal. He simply chose to leave early.

Later on, of course, he found out that Bossk, and some Corellian kid called Han Solo, whom Beckett had brought along in the job, had managed to swindle both Crimson Dawn and Enfys Nest, killed Tobias Beckett, and had gotten out with all the credits. That stung a little, especially as Han had struck him as the kind of flyboy that overestimated his own skills and then would get himself killed after getting in over his head. After that Lando had kept moving, just in case Crimson Dawn figured out he was a part of the heist that had cost them millions of credits. Eventually, he’d been contacted by a group of rather idealistic people looking for someone reliable to ship them weapons and supplies to help organise a rebellion against the Empire.

Did he sympathise with their cause? Maybe a little. Did he think they stood a chance? Not in the slightest, and Lando wasn’t about to place a bet with those sorts of odds, even if they had two Jedi on their side. So, he had made a deal with the Empire. In exchange for a pardon, and a hefty amount of credits, Lando had told the Empire the location of the rebel base, where he had been flying in and out of for several months on various supply runs. Now, he was holed up in the Falcon, having made his excuses to the rebels that he needed to make some repairs. The Falcon’s emergency alarm began to wail, and Lando jumped, spilling caff down his blue shimmersilk shirt.

“L3! Was that you?” He yelled angrily, looking down in horror at the ugly stain forming on the exquisite shirt. He stormed out of the engine room and into the main hold, leaving the mug in the engine room. L3 was sitting by the control panel, and looked around as he walked in.

“Was *what* me?” She demanded, and Lando pointed to the blaring alarm in response. She shook her head.

“If it wasn’t you, then…” Lando ran into the cockpit and switched on the primary systems. The Falcon’s alarm system had been synced to that of the base itself, and had been triggered by the activation of the base’s primary alarm system. A little trick he’d devised to make sure that he knew when to be ready.

The Empire was here.

Lando sat back in the pilot’s seat, taking a deep breath.

He just had to hope the Empire would keep their end of the bargain, and that the rebels wouldn’t figure out just who it was that tipped them off about their little base here.

TAGS: @Darth Nathemus, @Senec Tinople, @Volacius, @Hadzuska_The Jester, @DarthFeros, @Catalyst
 

Darth Sedicious

Member
Moderator
Dark Council
Jedi Council
IC: Apprentice Kharys
Location: The Tomb of Ajunta Pall

Why is it, one might wonder, why the s'kytri wore so little even in the harshest of environments?
Kharys, like most of her species, wore very little---naught more than a bathing suit it might look. It was unfortunate, Kharys thought, that the ghastly halls of this ancient sorcerer's tomb were littered with a terrible chill that cut even into the hollow bones of her own biology. Perhaps a spiritual chill...

"Apprentice Kharys, lead our way forth. Which path will lead us to the secrets of the first Jen'ari, the first Dark Lord of the Sith?"

Her master's baritone voice felt as if it bashed and battered its way through the air to assault one's fragile ears. Was she supposed to have studied the designs of this tomb prior to this? For all her intellectual curiosity, she had not foreseen her own mistake. But she was intelligent indeed, one of the smartest of her species. She would lead them, trample upon no traps and trigger no wires; she would fall to no Sith demon bat nor to the hideous worms that burrowed beneath the crumbling stoneplates they walked upon. Of course not.

"If my memory serves me well, it is to the... left," she cringed for her hesitation was lamentably evident.

Tags: @Ānhrā Māhnîu, @Darth Nathemus
 
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Darth Cold

Well-known member
Moderator
Dark Council
IC: Ezra Bridger
Maul’s Grotto, Dathomir


As he got close to his Master, Ezra knelt awaiting his Master’s permission to speak. Unfortunately the Bounty Hunter was not as intelligent. "You didn't tell me he was Force sensitive, Maul. Much less a dark side user. Your ward, or apprentice, or whatever you call him, almost died.” Ezra took offense to that. If it wasn’t for the lack of intelligence from this bounty hunter wannabe, there wouldn’t have been any problem. If Fett would have listened to him, there would not have been a hitch in the plan, but of course he had to do things his way. “You’re lucky you hired me for the job.Pfft as if. "I know the deal we made. But I'm altering the deal. I want double what you agreed to pay me. I don't like being lied to, or going in without all the info. So, you pay me double and everyone gets what they want. Or, you disagree, and I'll crush this code cylinder in my palm, and kill me or not, all you get for your trouble is this pretty little glow rod."

Ezra prepared himself to ignite his saber if called upon to do so. The audacity of this bounty hunter was incredible. Scanning the room he looked to Dryden Voss, the Night Sister, and then finally his Master, trying to gauge what to expect, and to be ready. He expected Maul to be angry, but was surprised by the calm reaction.

So you’re telling me, that when I hired you to bring me the lightsaber of an Imperial Inquisitor, you did not deduce that the Inquisitor who would be using said lightsaber, was perhaps a Force user? Perhaps I overestimated your reasoning capabilities, Fett." Damn Straight. Then another lightsaber flew to his Master’s hand from the wall, and its dual blades were ignited. "I could have easily chosen Bane, or perhaps Embo or Shand, all reputable and successful hunters in their own right, and all capable of handling an Inquisitor without complaint. Why come here and waste my time with your petty demands, when you're just a small player in this galactic game? A simple man making his way through the galaxy would do well to not endanger his own life for a few credits. You performed the agreed upon task. You can either accept the agreed upon payment alongside the opportunity to work again, or you can be honored with the same fate as your progenitor, and I lose nothing but time."

Ezra noticed the quick glance to the Night Sister, she was integral but he didn’t know for what. He did know that his Master held them in high regard however, so was willing to give the due respect his Master offered to them. "I promise you, there is no third option." Ezra kept his eye on the bounty hunter, ready to cut his arm off completely at the shoulder if he dared turn on his Master and squeeze the Code Cylinder too hard.


TAG: @Darth Nathemus @DarthFeros @Darth Traya @Catalyst
 

Jen'nu

Legendary Member
Moderator
Dark Council
Location: Tomb of Ajunta Pall, Valley of the Dark Lords, Korriban.

The Dark Side:


IC: Inquisitor Jerec.
bacac2a88a27f6e4cee3bf4137dcb07f.jpgThe eyeless Dark Jedi spectated the scene with a sliver of silent amusement. In spite of the blindfold over his face and the voluminous cloak shading his face, his sight encompassed everything. Even as he and his teacher flanked the armored Emperor the perception granted by the Force pierced all physical boundaries. The direction leading to the tomb’s central chamber was so clear it might as well have been mapped on the entrance. That being said, in the same vein as his games with Sariss, there was enjoyment to be found in the apprentice’s fumbling efforts. Taking in her signature did not hurt either. His companions radiated luminous fire, with the exception of the Blackhole.

Unnervingly true to the codename he seemed a continuously shrinking spiral, sucking on the shadows and darkness until a pitch singularity remained. It had never seized to shake Jerec’s spirit, providing an unfailing source of embarrassment. An internal sneer rose in the Miraluka’s mind. It was all but self-evident to him that Cronal was not truly present here. The presence next to him was no more than a puppet, psionic strings chaining it to the Dark Prophet. Even so that presence would never fail to cause a quavering sensation within him.

——

IC: Lord Cronal.
image0-2.jpgHe could only peer down on the meaningless motes around him. From the mundanity of the bodged Emperor and the bumbling fumble of the Apprentice, to the misguided jealousy of his novitiate Inquisitor. Even now, right next to the ruler of the galaxy, Jerec’s envy was clear. Even as a Jedi, Cronal knew, the Dark Jedi had retained a mighty and haughty spine of ambition. After all the years spent training the hapless Miraluka his nature was clear as glass. Jerec had been waiting for nearly to decade to overthrow the ruling regime and seize power for himself.

For his part, Cronal would see the downfall of them both. This Galactic Empire of the Skywalker was a misguided failure, just as Jerec’s dreams would never manifest in reality. Their hopes were only perpetuating a fruitless cyclical spiral of stagnation. The Emperor had destroyed the Galactic Republic and Confederacy of Independent Systems alike. He had destroyed the Jedi and overthrown the Dark Lord of the Sith; a success of cosmic capacities. And yet he had perpetuated the continuous failure of this galaxy. The creation of his own rule had twisted destruction into mere alteration. The Blackhole would see to it that all was devoured, leaving him the only survivor in an empty universe. And then he could finally accept his fate.



 

Darth Nathemus

King of Firefist
Staff member
Administrator
Jedi King
Dark Council
Jedi Council
Immortalis
GM UPDATE

IC: No one
Location: Yoda's Hut, The Swamp, Dagobah

Two old men sat together in a dusty hut among the swamps of Dagobah. Years prior, they were Masters, Councillors, Leaders, Generals, Heroes, and Legends. But now, they were nothing. Broken leaders of a long dead Jedi Order that the greater Galaxy did not care to remember. The new regime, the Galactic Empire, led by the true hero of the Clone Wars, Anakin Skywalker, and his Order of Imperial Knights had supplanted the once great Holy Order of the Jedi Knights.

The planet was a Nexus of dark power. The very caves held visions of dark futures, pasts, and everything in between, yet only what an unsuspecting mortal took with them. The old Masters could not be found here, and that was their advantage. It was exile, but it was exile to regroup and rebuild. Even the Emperor, with all his vaulted power could not find them here.

The Jedi and the Galaxy was theirs to take back, should they choose it.

TAG: @DarthFeros @Reatith Blodraald
 

Darth Cold

Well-known member
Moderator
Dark Council
IC: Ahsoka Tano
Rebel Base, Alderaan


Ahsoka had heard the briefing, but her mind, as it had been more often than not, was with her Former Master. Maybe if she hadn’t left the Order so long ago, Skyguy wouldn’t have fallen so far, and all those she had truly cared about in the Jedi Order wouldn’t be gone. It had been ten years, but she still mourned the loss of all her friends, Masters Plo Koon, and Kenobi second only to Anakin. The man who claimed himself Emperor though, that couldn’t possibly be Skyguy, even if deep down she knew the truth.


So we need to put together a solid defense, or we’ll never get all our people out of here. Any suggestions?” Jun had addressed her.


Shaking her head for a moment before focusing, Ahsoka began to think out loud. “Unlike during the Clone Wars, our enemy aren’t droids. They are people, with emotions like the rest of us. We need to think of a way to affect their compassionate side. If we can do that, who knows? Maybe they’ll decide to join us instead.” She gave a slight chuckle before a sigh. “We need to get our major ships out of the bunker and to another base ASAP. Gather as much equipment, and fuel as we can. We also need to get our classified information out. Possibly send it with the Smuggler.


Tag: @Senec Tinople @Cardun Vrek @Darth Nathemus @Catalyst @Volacius @DarthFeros
 

Darth Nathemus

King of Firefist
Staff member
Administrator
Jedi King
Dark Council
Jedi Council
Immortalis
GM UPDATE
"Fuck Clones"

IC: Emperor Skywalker
Location: Gerrera's Compound, Onderon

Aboard the Emperor's Star Destroyer of choice, The Naberrie, his wife Padme oversaw a training exercise of their young daughter, Leia. Though not as advanced in her swordsmanship as her brother, her Force potential had overshadowed him thus far. One of the Emperor’s most trusted officers, Firmus Piett, accompanied them and was also in the training room.

The young Skywalker had been pitted against two replicator droids that took the form of the deceased Jedi Padawans, Nahdar Vebb and Barriss Offee. The Calamari and the Mirialan wore their Masters' influence on their sleeves, with the former charging forth towards the young girl while the latter stayed back, lightsaber raised in a Form III defensive posture.

On the ground, however, was the Emperor’s mission. He had received intel from the local Clone Trooper squadrons that Saw Gerrera was harboring three Imperial outlaws. Unfortunate. I trained Saw to be a freedom fighter against the Separatists, not a criminal. How could he harbor Jedi away from my eyes? No more.

The Compound Gerrera kept his forces in was no small place, and it was no secret to Imperial Intelligence. Thus far, though, they could not pin any crimes on the Partisans beyond incredibly circumstantial evidence. But this. This could not be excused, no matter how much compassion Skywalker had for the leader. The reports he received indicated that Gerrera was housing the former Jedi General, Rahm Kota, as well as the outlaw smugglers, Bossk and Han Solo, who had been on the run ever since they failed their last Imperial job.

Accompanied by a small squad of ten 501st Legion Clones and flanked by two Imperial Knights, Master Kai Ren and his Apprentice Kara Winters, Emperor Skywalker personally strode into the courtyard of Saw's Compound, making note of any weaponry that may be used against his company.
"Saw Gerrera!" he shouted. "You're in vviolation of Imperial law by harboring Jedi and criminals. Turn them over to me and you can keep your freedom. Resist, and we'll just have to see how great my training was."

TAGs: @corinthia @Admiral Volshe @Senec Tinople @Cardun Vrek @Tobbi Airskipper @Catalyst
 

Tobbi Airskipper

Active member

IC: Kai Ren and Kara Winters

Location: Gerrera's Compound, Onderon

Jedi.

There was nothing more Kai Ren hated.

Jedi.

They were a pious group, self-righteous warmongers, idiotic kill mongers, hypocritical fearmongers, an overall blight to the Galaxy. Kai Ren hated them with a passion, yet this hate was not his. The leader of the Imperial Knights never experienced them personally, but his savior Emperor Skywalker the man he trusted with his life, the man he'd die for in a heartbeat, told stories of the republic and its monastic playthings.

The Galaxy was in shambles, and democracy did not solve anything; it only allowed suffering to become legal. Proudly displaying the inequality of society and proclaiming themselves to be the protectors of the weak while they sat in their giant mansion within the heart of Coruscant, waging war and ruining people's lives, all for the sake of "peace."

But as Emperor Skywalker explained, the war was never about peace. Instead, the war boiled down to the Galactic Republic losing control and wanting to project strength, desperately hiding how weak, fragile, and corrupt they've become.

Emperor Skywalker never explained more than that, but he didn't need to; Kai bought everything and savored every iota of the limited information, treating it as if it were gospel. Kai attempted to pass this fervor to his apprentice Kara Winters; she was skeptical, stubborn, and an overall gritty young woman, but Kara lacked the passion her master held for Emperor Skywalker and his regime. It was not as if the young woman didn't respect her master and her Emperor; how could she not? Kara instead had perspective and intuition; she intuitively knew her real place in this regime; a simple soldier to be trained and die for the Emperor, no more than that.

Unlike Kai, Kara never chose this life as a forlorn hope. Instead, she was drafted and trained to serve the Empire or die, nothing more. And Kara accepted that role, acknowledging her helplessness but refusing to become a victim, deciding that to survive, she had to look out for herself and do her job. This acceptance in the natural pecking order caught Kai's eye, mistaking this detached cynical, and self-preserving view as loyalty and obedience.

Perhaps they were similar in that regard. Two unimportant souls are tied together by fate, maintaining a deep connection with one another despite their contrasting views on their existence and situation.

Perhaps they could learn from one another.

Perhaps not.

The only thing that mattered now was Saw Gurrera; he potentially housed a Jedi within his compound, the highest of crimes. And so they marched on, following the Emperor and the 501st, accompanying them to Saw Gurrera's compound, stoping at the courtyard.

"Saw Gerrera!" Emperor Skywalker shouted. "You're in violation of Imperial law by harboring Jedi and criminals. Turn them over to me, and you can keep your freedom. Resist, and we'll just have to see how great my training was."

"Be alert young one. What do we do in situations like these? " Kai Ren telepathically asked Kara.

"Count the potential dangers, compare asset strength, identify the weakest link, search for superior positioning and exploit, if the situation deteriorates," Kara responded telepathically.

"Good. Now, what is the most likely scenario? And how should we respond?"

"If the reports are accurate, then the situation will most likely deteriorate, and if it does we should jump to the roof and infiltrate from there. Emperor Skywalker and the 501st will be their primary focus, while our sudden disappearance will be overshadowed by the ridiculous idea that they could potentially take him down."


Kai Ren nodded at Kara's mental message, showing a hint of a smile but emitting the aura of approval through his eyes. Both Imperial Knights gathered the energy of the force into their legs, preparing themselves to jump on the roof and slowly but subtly placing their hands over their weapons. Both knights were hoping for Saw's compliance but were prepared to slaughter everyone in the compound.

TAGs: @corinthia @Admiral Volshe @Senec Tinople @Cardun Vrek @Darth Nathemus @Catalyst


Powers used: Telepathy (on each other), Force Jump (preparing)
 
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Xuul Zephyrot

Active member
IC: Major Rex
Location: Imperial encampment, Alderaan


Good soldiers follow orders.

The words ate at his thoughts like Geonosian brain worms, slithering into his mind, unwelcomed, day in and day out. The mantra that, whether by conscious decision or instinct, had made Rex the man that he was today. It was because of this phrase that he was the first to charge into a headlong assault on his generals’ orders, because of it that he had worked every day to be an exemplary officer, had relentlessly trained his men to be the best he could be.

It was because of this phrase that he had fired upon the woman he had come to think of as his little sister.

Again, Rex fruitlessly shook his head, as if the motion would wash these thoughts away, rather than merely hold them at bay, ready to assault him when he next tried to relax.

Pull yourself together, trooper, he commanded himself angrily. He had had plenty of opportunity to replay the events of that day in his head a thousand times over, and if he survived this day, he would have a thousand more opportunities. But now, the time had come for action. His own emotional turmoil, if he should let it continue unchecked, would endanger not only his own life, but the lives of the men Rex commanded, what remained of his brethren that had survived that hideous day.

The clone major pulled himself straight and gazed across the encampment, his conflict mercifully hidden under the blue-streaked stormtrooper helmet. As he did so, a wave of pride surged in him, purging the unwelcome thoughts for the time being. Armed with Imperial guns and fresh Imperial armor, his boys had scarce looked fresher since the day they had departed for Mandalore.

There was his XO, Commander Appo, fanatically disciplined as always, giving a last-minute inspection to the troops, checking weapons and securing armor. The Legion was perhaps not as tight as it used to be; between the attack on the Jedi Temple and the utter destruction of the clones sent to Mandalore, there simply weren’t enough surviving 501st clones left to make a full legion. The rest of the legion had been filled out with clones from other tattered legions, their forces similarly cut to ribbons on a hundred different worlds, caught in the crossfire as they attempted to fight Jedi enemy and Separatist enemy at once. Still, the 501st remained the best and brightest of the GAE – the Grand Army of the Empire. And with their forces now backed by the most cutting-edge military technology in existence, none in the galaxy could challenge the might of the Emperor’s Fist.

The comm crackled, and a haughty voice filled Rex’s ears, a commanding officer, but neither a Jedi nor a fellow clone this time – rather, an Imperial Knight.

"Major Rex, prepare the troops. They may have brothers on the other side, but if they do not serve the Emperor, then they are no brothers of yours."

Another burst of static, and the clipped voice was gone. Rex scowled as he rose, reflexively checking both his pistols before holstering them once more. The Knight’s voice was laden with distrust and a hint of condescension, as if he could not really trust Rex to do his duty.

Of course, now free of the chip Sidious had planted to control the clones, Rex supposed the Knight had a point. He was no longer bound by that voice in his head to follow his orders, no matter the cost.

But, in this case, Rex was long past having doubts. It was up to him to ensure that his brothers felt the same way.

“501st Legion, eyes front!” he snapped, removing his helmet to stare at his men as they snapped to attention. No longer did he command a single platoon; now more than 1500 clones fell silent at his command. He raised his voice above the strangely silent encampment, the peace only broken by the sounds of distant thrantas and the not-so-distant clanks of armored assault vehicles moving into position.

“Today, we move against the largest assembly of traitors gathered against our Empire yet. Our orders are clear; we are to pin down these rebels, then move in and eradicate their defenses.”

His voice became more solemn as he gestured to an armored man with thick sideburns, “Thanks to Agent Kallus, our intelligence is extremely clear and accurate. At least a platoon of clone traitors have been spotted in the enemy base, perhaps more.”

Murmurs spread, unbidden, through the ranks, and as Rex scowled, a chorus of reproval echoed across the field, sergeants and captains jumping into action to silence their undisciplined soldiers.

The 501st really isn’t what it used to be.

“Brothers, eyes front,” he commanded sharply, and the encampment once more faded into silence. He spoke slowly and clearly this time, his eyes drilling like lasers through his men as he stared across them, “These men are your brothers no longer. We were all betrayed by Palpatine, but instead of turning and defending the Empire as we all did, they instead turned tail and ran, putting their own lives ahead of the galaxy’s. So when you meet them on the field of battle . . .”


Show. No. Mercy.”


A horrible silence filled the field, and Rex could bear it no longer, once more donning his helmet.

“Is that clear?” he barked.

“Clear, sir!” A thousand voices repeated in unison.

“Then, commanders, prepare your men to engage the enemy.”

The encampment exploded into noise, and Rex suddenly felt very alone, no squad to whom to confide his hesitations, no Jedi general there to quell his fears.

Heavy lies the helmet, he thought bitterly.

With no squad to prepare, Rex instead moved towards his intelligence liaison, no desire to approach the haughty Imperial Knight who lead their army.

“Well, Agent Kallus,” he said, his eyes focusing on the distant rebel base, “let’s hope your intelligence is as good as they say.”

TAGS: @Darth Nathemus @Cardun Vrek @Hadzuska_The Jester @Catalyst @Volacius @DarthFeros
 

Catalyst

The Cunning Linguist
Moderator
Underworld Ruler
Immortalis
Your Terrorists, Our Freedom Fighters

Combo between @Catalyst and @Cardun Vrek

IC: Saw Gerrera and Rahm Kota
Partisan Compound, Onderon


"Star Destroyer entering orbit over Onderon."


Klaxons blared throughout the compound as the broadcasted warning repeated itself.


"Get to the transports. Women and children first. I need all able bodied soldiers armed," Saw's commanding voice rang out above the chaos and panic. "Solo, Bossk, you can either start shuttling people offworld or you can take up arms." He strode to a wall lined with blasters and other weaponry, holstering a pistol before hefting a missile tube over his shoulder. He dug into a pouch, procuring a small holoprojector. A floating image of his long-deceased sister, Steela, rotated slowly above the disk. He deactivated the projector and pressed it against his forehead before stowing it once more. "General Kota," he called out to the Jedi whose forces complimented his own. "I need you on standby. We can't have word getting out to Skywalker's lackeys that you're here."


Rahm Kota stood resolutely, his mind focused on the situation at hand. His militia were already deploying as per his orders into defensive positions, ready to hold off any impending imperial assaults. They were trained soldiers, they would hold the line. This wasn’t the type of battle they had gotten used to over the years, but still, every man and woman who had joined his ranks knew their jobs, and they did them well. “My Militia are already deploying for battle, Guerrera. We’ll hold off those clones…” The last word was laced with particular venom. All along, Rahm had been suspicious of the clones, and had doubted their abilities, and true loyalties. And he had been right to. He only wished more Jedi had listened to him.


"I ain't worried about clones," Saw shot back with a hint of cockiness. "But there's no reason they'd send a Destroyer unless they wanted a bigger fight. My shield generators will hold up to an orbital bombardment if it comes to it. If they're sending troops though, it means Skywalker thinks we're a much bigger threat than he lets on." He slung a bandolier lined with thermal detonators across his chest. "I'd rather not get tangled with his Inquisitor squad if it comes to it though."


“You’re right. And a Destroyer that size would carry thousands of troopers, and several squads of fight-” Rahm was cut off by the sound of his commlink, which was registering an incoming message. Frowning slightly, he unclipped it from his belt. “This is General Kota.” The voice of one of his militia captains- Vastron- came through the comm. He sounded shocked, and as he spoke, it was in disbelief.

“General, this is Vastron. Aurek squad is in position, but…well…we’ve spotted incoming imperials.”

Rahm looked over at Saw and gave him a meaningful look. “How many, Vastron?”

“A squad of troopers. They look 501st, by the markings,”

501st…but they were. No. It couldn’t be.

“But it's who’s leading the squad, General. It's…it’s him. It’s Skywalker.”

Rahm froze, just for a moment, then quickly composed himself. “Hold your men in position, Captain. Await further orders. Do not fire unless fired upon.” Kota turned to Saw again, his expression unreadable, though the clenched left fist that had formed as soon as Rahm had heard *that* name gave some insight into his true emotions. “It looks as if Skywalker skipped past the inquisition and went straight to a personal intervention, Guerrera. He’s here. And so is the 501st.” Kota said, taking a deep breath.

This could be his chance. His first chance in ten years to avenge the Jedi. To bring Skywalker down. But…was he ready?


"Skywalker? Here?" Saw's tone was filled with confusion and anger. He silently cursed the man who he once considered a friend. "He must have gotten a tip about your presence. There's no other reason he'd come in person." He pulled a comm from his vest. "Benthic, ready the U-wing. Reports are saying Skywalker is here." He stowed the comm once more before hefting the rocket launcher to his shoulder once more. "Partisans!" He rallied his troops. "Emperor Skywalker has graced our retreat here on Onderon! He intends to show us the error of our ways and have us bend over to his whim! We will not submit to tyranny! We are the spark that will light the fires of Rebellion! For the cause!"


Cheers greeted his speech and the bustle of preparation hastened. Saw turned back to Kota. "Now is the time to choose, General. You can run with the shuttles and live another day, or you can stand and fight with me. Until the fighting breaks out, I need you outta sight. I don't know what the Jedi did to earn Skywalker's rage, but all bets are off if he gets sight of you. I wouldn't put it past the Empire to have spies and infiltrators among us. Either way, keep your Jedi senses sharp. You might be our only hope."


Rahm stood for a moment, thinking. He could retreat, and lure Skywalker into more favourable ground. But that was cowardice. He couldn’t abandon Guerrera’s people, not now. And this might be the only shot at the so-called Emperor he would get. A plan began to form in his mind. “I’m with you. As are my forces. I’ll take my best men and fall back further into the base. Try to draw Skywalker in, I’m going to lay a trap for him. How many explosives do you have on-site? Preferably ones that can be detonated with a remote switch.” There may be only one way to be sure. If he wasn’t strong enough to finish Skywalker himself, then he had to make sure. For everyone who Skywalker and his Empire had killed.


A twitch of a smile rushed across Saw's face. He unclipped the bandolier from his chest and tossed it at the Jedi. "These don't have much more than a timer and a dead man switch. We've got timed charges as well in the munitions stock." He turned towards the courtyard. The whine of ships settling to the ground told him that it was time to face his former friend. "My men and I will stall him as long as we can. Bring the roof down on his head if you have to."


“Try to get your people out before that happens, Guerrera. I don’t intend for anyone but Skywalker to die here today.” Rahm said solemnly, catching the bandolier before turning to go the other direction, deeper into Guerrera’s base. He pulled out his comm. “Major Vreiser, this is General Kota. Tell your men to head to the munitions stock and gather up all the explosives they can find, I want them set all over the base, but not the hangers. And tell your men that if any of them want to leave…they have my permission. This may be our last battle. I don’t want anyone fighting it who doesn’t understand that. After those charges are set, take up defensive positions, but gradually retreat once engaged. Lure Skywalker and his forces to my position. And then, try to get out.”

“What about you, General?” Vrieser asked, puzzled.

“I’ll be fine, Major. You have your orders. And tell Vastron that he is to stay and fight with the Partisans. And get our pilots airbourne.”

“Yes General, understood.” Vrieser replied. Kota continued walking through the base, his mind focused on the task at hand.

“May the Force be with me…” He said to himself quietly as he unsheathed his lightsaber from its small scabbard behind his head. It was time.


Saw watched the Jedi leave and gave a respectful nod. "Save the dream." He turned his back and walked out to the courtyard, flanked by a squad of Partisans. He was just in time to catch Skywalker's address to them.


"Criminals?" He shouted in response. "I ask you, Skywalker, what is criminal about preserving our freedom? These men and women before you have all lost their homes, their families, their lives because of your Empire. Now you come here, to the home you helped me free, to quash my people under your boot because we dare to speak up to injustice." He looked with disgust at the man who called himself Emperor of the Galaxy. "There was a time when you helped me and my people. But I guess we aren't as important now that you've got the rest of the galaxy behind you." He stood his ground, but kept his weapon at-ease. "And if that means we are enemies, then so be it."

TAG: @Darth Nathemus, @Senec Tinople, @Admiral Volshe, @Tobbi Airskipper, @corinthia
 
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