Open War III: Reign of Chaos

to immortalize all those epic battles we fought together...

Re: Open War III: Reign of Chaos

User avatar
Mako
Lieutenant Commander
Bounty Hunter
Posts: 1609
Joined: Tue Jun 07, 2005 11:01 pm
Contact:

Post by Mako » Tue Feb 07, 2012 10:26 pm

So far the ploy was working. While everyone got into position to make their jump to hyperspace the ships of the 300th kept pushing towards the brotherhood fleet. Blasts from the newly arrived Warhammer helped keep up appearances. The spearhead kept up their barrage even though they still commanded unwelcome attention. It didn't matter though, With the overlapped shields of the ships of the 300th along with the concentrated firepower of every "friendly" vessel situated just behind the phalanx formation. nothing got through nor managed to reassemble itself into anything big enough to be a threat.

1:15 This was going to be close. Canthas went over the escape plan one last time in his head.
"You do realize that our fold drives are out as well as the hyper drive, right?" Xendar proceeded to remind him.
"That's why the rest of the 300th is slaved to us. once I hit the go button we all fold out of here and back home."
"Won't we be giving away our intentions when we suddenly just disappear right before the planet blows?"
Canthas smiled, "Trust me."
It was then that Xendar got a real sickly feeling in his stomach.

0:45
The last of the republic ships had finally gotten into place.

0:42
Another Brotherhood ship tried to break through the Phalanx only to be shredded by a hail of turbo laser fire. Steadily but slowly the rest of the Brotherhood's forces were pushed back towards Valmont. Another Omega blast ripped through several Brotherhood ships breaking them apart.

0:30
Finally giving up on conventional methods the brotherhood started kamikaze attacks. The bolstered shields of the Coalition ships helped them survive the baradium filled explosions. The bridge of the Achilles lit up from one of the explosions. Canthas winced away from the bright light. 'Wow these guys are already to this point and while they are winning."

0:15
Xendar braced himself as another explosion rocked the bridge. "Just wondering, what about the indigenous life on the planet?"
"Already checked," Canthas replied, "the entire system is dead and lifeless."
0:10
A small bright explosion lit upon the planets surface causing a chain reaction. almost instantaneously the entire planet went up.

0:09
0:08
A bright flash proceeded The initial shock wave that left the planet.

0:07
0:06
Valmont started to collapse in on itself creating an incredible gravity well sucking everything towards it's core
0:05
0:04
Canthas initiated the fold drives of the 300th.
All of the brotherhoods ships were pulled into the encroaching shock wave and obliterated.

0:03
The fold field fully enveloped the ships of the 300th mere milliseconds before the shock wave hit it.

0:02
The shock wave wrapped around the field.

0:01
The shock wave snapped back in on its self causing a second gravity well to appear where the coalition ships once were and caused a secondary shock wave.

0:00
The remaining ships of the temporary alliance started to enter hyperspace using the shock wave to boost them away from the dual black holes.
Power without perception is worthless and of no use.
Current WIP The Lost Fleet everything else is on hold.

User avatar
General_Trageton

Fleet Admiral (Administrator)
Posts: 11743
Joined: Fri Apr 27, 2001 11:01 pm
Contact:

Post by General_Trageton » Tue Feb 07, 2012 10:52 pm

[00:05:28]

Seconds passed.
Nothing happened.
No pain, no death, only fire.

Slowly Shiromy opened her eyes. She was still hovering above the lava, hardly a meter over the raging mass of molten stone. She was completely engulfed in flames, could feel them as they danced over her body, caressing her skin. A strange feeling of warmth and pleasure streamed through her, tingling in her veins, coaxing her own inner flame, which began to grow. Starting as a spark it grew into a blaze and soon breached all boundaries. And suddenly she understood. She had managed to touch the very essence of her soul element, she was becoming one with the fire. Had she before only been able to reach her inner flame by force - anger and fury served moderately well as catalysts - it now unfolded naturally, by her simply allowing it to. And Revan ... she had always known this. All those tortures, trials and visions - they all had served the sole purpose to prepare Shiromy for this! It all suddenly seemed so simple, so obvious! This was Revan's legacy.
A blaze of fire erupted around her, as she ultimately gave in to her soul element in its purest infernal form. And she began to change; her hair, her skin, her robes - everything seemed to merge with this fervid element, as she was transformed into an infernal being.

Then her gaze fell upon the abomination and hardened. His expression of twisted glee had disappeared and changed into something she couldn't exactly discern. Was it confusion about her phoenix-like rebirth? Fear or anger? No, none of these. Her gleaming eyes narrowed, as she slowly floated towards him, carried by flames. It was time to end this.

[00:04:37]

"Impressive." The Abomination said appreciatively, and suddenly its presence had adapted something disturbingly familiar. "It appears that after all that happened you have at last learned your lessons. I had been afraid that you would throw everything away in a spontaneous act of foolish shortsight. It pleases me that my teachings have not been forsaken after all."
"Revan." Shiromy concluded. Her voice was calm, much in contrast to the flames blazing fervidly around her. "I should have recognized your handwriting." The revelation wasn't a complete surprise to her. When the abomination had force-choked her, the connection had shown her visions, images, memories. There was no doubt that this twisted thing was noone else but her old Sith Master. This also put everything into a totally new light. Even that failed attempt to kill her now seemed like simly another one of Revan's trials. "So" Shiromy eventually spoke. "How did you survive?"
"The way the Sith have survived for millennia" Revan replied in a matter-of-fact tone. "By hiding in plain sight. Your dear husband's mind was in such turmoil and emotional stress that it was easy to sneak in. And for a time I just hid and watched, waiting for the right moment."
"Did you control Vince's actions?" Shiromy inquired and her tone became sharper. Looking back at how Vince had orchestrated things - the Corellia affair or her insertion into the Brotherhood being only a few examples - a certain darker tone was undenyable, thus Revan having a part in those actions was not unlikely.
"I did no such thing to him." Revan rejected resolutely. "In fact I was quite impressed by his resolve and his will to go to such lengths. With time and proper guidance he might become a formidable Sith, himself."
"What do you want, Revan?"
"That which I've allways wanted:" Revan stated easily. "to raise a worthy successor and to protect the galaxy, be it from invading hordes, cults like this brotherhood or its own stupidity. You know the Jedi will never find the resolve to do what is necessary to truly protect their flock. The success of this cult of imposters has greatly proven this. Only a true Sith with the darkside at her command will bring up the strength and the will required to triumph over this threat."
"Beautiful words, nothing more." Shiromy said unimpressed.
"That is entirely up to you." Revan replied. "You have betrayed and defeated me, thus proven your strength. This is how it has been for hundreds of generations and I applaud you for that. But my time here is over." Revan's voice once again took on an insisting tone. "Take your place, Darth Pyra! Through you the Sith can rise again and summon the power to free the galaxy from the clutches of this cult and their treacherous beliefs."
"And then what?" Shiromy sneered. "Rule the galaxy?"
"You have only just begun to grasp your destiny. You and your family can be the first of a new Sith dynasty." Shiromy's eyes narrowed. Soothing words to bait her. So easy to see through. Hard to believe she had fallen for them before ...

[00:03:28]
"The Jedi will never allow this." Shiromy argued. "Not after Sidious." But it was merely a point to bring forth, not a protest.
"Sidious gave the galaxy too much reason to hate and oppose him. While I consider his execution of the grand plan flawless he became complacent allowing the Jedi to regain strength and support so quickly. The Brotherhood's assaults have weakened them. Their lines are shattered and their resolve is broken. All these events have proven that they are unfit to protect this galaxy." Revan did have a point here. The jedi had done little to defend themselves against the brotherhood's attack, instead they had hidden themselves in the belly of that Calamari Cruiser, waiting for fate to seek them out. Had it not been for their intervention the Brotherhood would sooner or later overrun the Jedi. Remembering tales from the Sith archives on Dromund Kaas and Korriban, Shiromy realized that this was actually history repeating itself. Still ...
"You assume too much." Shiromy argued. "How can you know I would always be willing to babysit this galaxy?"
"Now don't delude yourself, my dear. With power comes a certain responsibility but also the obligation to make use of it, be it for a higher cause or one's personal gain."
"Power without perception is -"
"I'm talking about purpose." Revan interrupted her. "We must always be perceptive and mindful of what we do and what consequences our actions yield, but power without purpose is just as worthless, your friend Mako must agree on that." Shiromy was slightly taken aback at Revan's knowledge of Mako and his favorite proverb. Had the Sith simply been watching and overhearing Vince's communications with him or was there another connection to this? Roscha had told her once that Mako had also been taught the ways of the Sith, but had never revealed to Shiromy who had been his masters. "Few as we are born with this gift," Revan continued "we should never discard it."
Shiromy remained silent for a long moment. The thoughts spun in her mind. She had given in to the darkside before and rejected it just as easily. Would it be possible to uphold the Sith legacy without being destroyed by the darkside? This wasn't about lusting for power and ruling the galaxy. The Sith had proven their greatest strength during the milennia of preparation and subtle influence. Why rule the galaxy, if you can own it? It was a grave decision, no doubt. One that would need to be made with great care and consideration. As for Revan ... the Sith spirit had persisted for milennia. Even after she had banished her from her mind, Revan had survived. Trying to destroy her now would gain nothing and only waste precious time, and she didn't have any to loose right now. "This is not the time and place for such discussions." Shiromy decided. "The planet is dying."
"Indeed" Revan agreed gravely. "And you should no longer be here, when it does." Revan lowered his hands. "I am well aware that this is no decision to be made lightly. Finish what you started! In due time we will meet again."
Shiromy nodded silently. Once more her eyes blazed up in fire. Focusing her will she felt the lava around her as if it were a part of herself. Then, moving her unwounded arm in fluent arcs, she bended the mass to her will and made it an extension of herself. A gleaming tentacle-like shape soared from the molten mass like a feroceous sea creature, roused from its slumber. And then it struck. Boring through the doomed body's heart it not only impaled it but burned it from the inside, before finally dragging it along into the fiery depths from where it had risen. And then, finally, it was over.

[00:01:12]
You did well, Darth Pyra!
Your ship, Captain. I need a drink. - Vince Trageton
Vince T's Design HQ | Vince T's X-Wing HQ | My Steam Workshop

Seagulls
Cadet 1st Class
Posts: 143
Joined: Wed Jan 20, 2010 7:12 am
Contact:

Post by Seagulls » Fri Feb 10, 2012 2:48 am

Alicia set the last panel back in the backup power generator and snapped it shut. "Ready? Set, Go." The systems indicator lights flickered on: Surprisingly, most of the lights were green.
Engines, tractor beams, and shield generators were red, weapons were a hazy orange color, and communications were yellow. Decisions decisions... She rubbed her still-sensitive eyes and dabbed the corners with her sleeve as she thought.

"Ok, let's get this comm network back up. We can call for tugs later". She strode past the group of mechanics and engineers and entered the port hangar bay. What a mess. Everything that was tied down had been turned into useless junk when they had been buffeted around in Zero-G. Now that gravity was restored the debris was heaped in short mounds that would never be cleaned up. Even the few starfighters that hadn't been secure were useless.

"Mr. J'aan?", the heavy-set man looked up from his work and ponderously made his way through the junk.
"What can ah do ye for?"
"We're never going to sort all of this out on our own. Prepare to space this hangar."
"Can do. Ma'am." He touched his hat and started up to Hangar Control with Alicia following impatiently behind. The klaxons blared and there was a mad rush to the doors. After everyone was clear, the hold doors slammed shut, as did all other exits, and the massive emergency door opened in the front of the hangar, gravity was stopped, and everything was ejected into space.

"Thar ye go miss. Clean as a whiestle." She didn't respond. He followed her gaze out into space and froze as they watched Mirage ram a dark fleet warship, flames spurting from huge gashes in her hull.

|||||||||
Aaron was still trying to debug the communications network when Alicia sprinted up to the bridge, gasping for air.

"Lookousside!" she finally choked out. "Port Hangar."
56 seconds later he was standing at the edge of the magnetic field, watching the desperate fight outside.

|||||||||

The datapad he had been carrying began flashing. An old emergency code.
8:00
Hmm. Wierd. He checked Mirage's computer and its inbound log.
7:00
"What is it?" Alisha slowly asked him.
"The planet goes nova in 6.5 minutes."
"Can we get out?"
"You know better than I do. Do we have engines?"
"No." She hesitated for a few precious seconds.

5:30
This time the Klaxons sounded louder than usual, a high-pitched, unwavering scream as all hands sprinted to their assigned escape pods. Aaron and Alicia were on the bridge, purging the computer core so nothing could be salvaged.
"Ready?" He asked.
"Sure. Let's get out of here."
And then Wildfire initiated docking sequence and brought them into the huge hangar bay.

|||||||||
4:00
Every person on board Crescent was lined up in neat rows in the spotless port hangar. Officers were in dress uniforms, crew stood in front of the passengers, as clean and well-brushed as one minute of preparation could make them.
Alicia paced over to the very edge of the bay and looked down into the waiting groups in Wildfire's hangar.

"Alright, let's get this over with." Her voice came out in a sad croak. Dread of the courts-martial terrorized her.

The crew made a nicely done right-face and walked down into the hold, followed by the engineers and the clumsy junior commandoes.
Alicia and Aaron walked past them, turned, and strode through the narrow hatch, down the ramp, and into the crowd of officers.
Seagulls
Red 6
CRS Morning Star: Home of Red Squadron

"Now you're using that misfiring hunk of erratic machinery you refer to as a brain"-Ton Phanan. Pilot, Wit, Superior Intellect.

User avatar
General_Trageton

Fleet Admiral (Administrator)
Posts: 11743
Joined: Fri Apr 27, 2001 11:01 pm
Contact:

Post by General_Trageton » Sat Feb 11, 2012 6:47 am

[00:01:00]
Shiromy was standing alone on the sinking island amidst the lake of fire. The flames around her had died away like a candle yielding to a gust of wind. It was over.
Not quite yet. Images flashed before her eyes; knowledge; premonitions of events to come. One last obstacle was to over come and it was probably the greatest yet.
Absolute darkness crawled across the land, as above them a something huge emerged from nowhere; lifting her gaze she looked at a huge dark mass, casting its shadow against the moonlight. Millions of tiny lights, arranged in destinctive patterns, covered its surface - pinpricks that further accentuated its enormous size. It was the Traquia. Her pulse took on pace and her muscles tensioned. Vince had kept word: Nothing would remain of the Brotherhood on this moon - not even the moon itself.

[00:00:40]
"Target locked." Platon announced. "Primary weapons charged and ready."
"Prepare to fire on my command!" Ray ordered firmly. "Launch fighters to intercept any escaping vessels!"
"Sensors show signs of severe seismic activity in the target area." Vacter added. "Give it a few more hours and that moon will fall apart by itself."
Ray leaned back, his fingertips pinched together in front of his face. Before them hung the grey mass of the Codian Moon. Clearly visible, even from way up here was the gleaming star-shaped scar that had been torn into the surface.
"We don't have that much time." A familiar voice said to his right. In the corners of his eyes he noticed a figure emerging from the shadows and stepping to his side. Truth told he wasn't even surprised. Looking up at the man he offered but a slight nod and received one in return. "Fire!"

[00:00:20]
Whispers in her mind; Get ready! Then, right before her, almost fading in the darkness she noticed the blurry shape of another ship - much smaller - jetting across the far edge of the vast crater and racing towards her, closing in at high velocity, while above them something began to glow, bathing everything in an eerie blue light with just the slightest hue of cyan; a looming luminance that grew stronger every second.
The smaller ship was now almost there.
A flash cut into the crimson night. Time slowed down to a crawl. Six streaks of blazing white light rained from the sky, harbingers of destruction. The blazing energy beams tore into the ground with such power and vehemence that the impact shockwaves made the lava surge like a volcano's maiden eruption. Now! Letting the Force flow through her Shiromy defied gravity and catapulted herself high into the air. Higher and higher she soared, instinctively holding out a hand. And at the apex of her leap - by the chance of one in many millions - another hand clutched it and held fast. Shiromy cried out in pain as she was pulled along momentarily and the g-forces almost tore her apart. But the hand that held her was strong and firm, faintly resounding in the Force, as she was pulled into the inside of the ship.
"All clear!" Someone shouted. "Let's get the hell out of here!"

[00:00:00]
Another flash of light blazed across the Traquia's prow, as the fusion cannons released their primary charges. Like falling stars the spheres of compressed plasma plunged into the atmosphere and down the insertion shafts, until they vanished from sight. Ray held his breath. For a moment everything looked as if nothing had happened. Then the entire moon seemed to tremble, and gleaming lines painted a distorted pattern onto the moon's bulging surface.
The destruction of the Codian Moon came about not as a brilliant explosion. No anticlimactic Grande finale to this dark chapter of galactic history. The moon died in silence, slowly breaking apart, its debris drifting apart like sand cast into the water.

////////////////

Trembling, aching and out of breath Shiromy was cowering on the boarding ramp of the ship that had just fished her out of the sky. Several people whom she didn't recognize were surrounding her. Hands reached out to help her stand. Voices spoke to her, uttering things like "Relax, Mylady!" and "You're safe now!" Someone uttered something about a dislocated shoulder. Everything felt distant, surreal, as they led her up a flight of stairs onto another deck. As they eventually entered what appeared to be the command center, Shiromy noticed a number of commandos whom she recognized - members of Vince's old Phantom Squadron ... "Vince" She breathed and stopped abruptly. "Where is he?"
"He's not here." a familiar voice answered and to her left she recognized Darron Larcoon coming towards her. Her first impulse would have been suspicion, Larcoon had been a traitor to the ESS and she would have almost killed him once. Easily imagineable he might hold a grudge against her. Then again Vince had mentioned his reinstatement, under Mryna's supervision. Maybe his intentions were sincere - otherwise they might not have picked her up from the doomed planet in the first place. Still, Mryna wasn't present and neither was Vince. Still, nothing of this was exactly graspable and Shiromy knew better by now than to jump to conclusions. So instead of being suspicious she resorted to confusion.
"I heard a voice ..." Shiromy murmured, more to herself than to him. To normal beings hearing voices was likely a symptom of insanity but this was different! There had been a voice, speaking to her through the Force. It had to be him!
"That was actually me." An unfamiliar voice behind her said neutrally. Turning around she identified a tall, slightly grayed human wearing something loosely resembling the traditional Jedi robes. She also recognized him as the one who had caught her and pulled her into the ship, by itself a performance way beyond the capacities of ordinary beings. A Jedi, here? Alerted by the echoes of dark energy? Had he sensed the presence of Darth Revan? Or maybe it was a cultist? Automatically she tensioned and took a step away from him, throwing him a probing glare.
"Gurn Akkare." Larcoon added as a quick introduction, noticing her suspicion. "He's one of us. Vince is waiting for you on the command ship." A thin smirk appeared on his face. "He thought you'd want to see him in person rather than talking to a blinking computer screen. We're taking you to him."
Your ship, Captain. I need a drink. - Vince Trageton
Vince T's Design HQ | Vince T's X-Wing HQ | My Steam Workshop

User avatar
FunkyFreshMan
Lieutenant JG
Rebel Alliance
Posts: 602
Joined: Sun Oct 04, 2009 11:55 pm

Post by FunkyFreshMan » Thu Mar 01, 2012 8:41 pm

A hyperspace tunnel. That meant safety.
Frost watched the tunnel swirl around the bow of the WildFire. His head ached, pounded. His eyes felt like they were going to burst from their sockets.
“So much death,” he muttered to himself, almost involuntarily. His chest tightened, his heartbeat quickened. He fought the urge to scream. His stomach felt sick. For a moment, he thought he would pass out.
Then it was over. He exhaled slowly, trying to calm his nerves.
He turned and walked back to the turbo lift. There was a crew of Imperial officers in his hangar bay that were probably expecting a welcoming committee.
As the lift sped down to the cruiser’s lower levels, Frost mused over the strange sensations he had been feeling. He was slowly beginning to understand what was happening to him. It wasn’t his advancing age catching up to him, or mounting stress from too much war. It was Narine. Whatever she had done was somehow affecting him. It was as if she had attuned him to the Force. But was that even possible? Passing on Force-sensitivity to another person seemed like nonsense.
Frost shook his head as the lift slowed. The doors hissed open and he set off down a corridor that led to the hangar.
Maybe the Jedi would have some idea as to what exactly Narine had done to his brain. With any luck, maybe they would even be able to cure it. Frost was tough old hound, though. He could live with the headaches and occasional bouts of nausea. What bothered him the most was the lack of understanding. He just wanted to know why.
He stepped into the hangar. Outside, the walls hyperspace tunnel sped past, bathing the hangar in cool, blue hues. He eyed the Crescent. She was banged up pretty badly, but no more worse for wear that the haggard-looking crew trudging down her boarding ramp. At least they had made an obvious effort to clean themselves up—Imperial discipline in action—Frost hadn’t looked into a mirror in who knows how long. He quickly stroked his angular jaw. It was thick with salt-and-pepper stubble. He caught a quick glimpse of himself in a passing astromech’s dome. Heavy bags rested under his eyes. His skin was pale and stretched. He looked old, and tired. But he walked on, doing as little as straightening his collar. He wasn’t trying to impress anybody.
He watched the Crescent’s crew line up in front of a small group of Republic hangar personnel, junior officers, and a handful of security officers. Frost made his way to the front of the lines. He ran his eyes down the Imperial line. Most of them seemed nervous, uneasy. He approached two officers, a young man and a young woman. They each snapped a smart salute.
“Lieutenant Valis, Lieutenant Rying,” Frost said, “I didn’t think I’d see the two of you again. Welcome back to the WildFire.”
Rying’s face flushed bright red. “Apologies, Admiral. We did not intend to put your men in danger.”
Frost laughed. “We were already in danger. Stopping to pick up a few wayward souls was merely a small delay.”
“I suppose we’ve made quite a mess of things, haven’t we?” Valis said. “What will you do with us?”
Frost looked confused. The young officers must be expecting him to arrest them or have them court-martialed. “All I’m going to do is let you and your boys freshen up, provide you with some food and rooms, and we’ll go from there. I can’t give you full run of the ship, of course, but you can rest easy without fear of punishment.” He shrugged. “From me, anyway. It’s your superiors that you’d have to worry about. I’ll be sure to put in a good word for you, if I can.” He turned to discuss arrangements with the security officers.
Suddenly, he doubled over as if he had been struck in the gut. He began muttering, “The heat…burns…heat. The heat!”
Officers rushed to his side. He looked up at them, his eyes were wide with horror. They stared off at some distant point. He let out a long, hoarse wail. “Fire!”
“Get him to the medbay! Now!” someone shouted.
Frost’s vision went red and his body burned. Moments later, the pain and burning stopped. The room fell silent. Then everything went black.

****

Jenn stood hunched over the sink in the Nighthawk’s ‘fresher, unsure of what she had just seen. All that fire, the moon cracking apart…and the small, brown-haired woman in the middle of it all. Not being in the friendliest of moods, Jenn felt no obligation to welcome this Shiromy woman before running off to the ‘fresher to take care of her own needs.
She looked up at her reflection in the mirror. Her raven hair was kinked, and greasy to the touch. Her face felt gritty and was splotched with grime and carbon deposits. Her clothes smelled like sweat and dried blood. She splashed cool water onto her face, but that only seemed to spread the dirt around more. Giving up, she dried her hands and face on a towel, leaving it nearly as filthy as she was.
The door hissed open as she stepped out into the hall. She jumped in surprise. Gyttel was waiting just outside, propped up against the bulkhead to the ship’s medbay. She quickly threw on a smug expression to try to hide her exhaustion. “Waiting in line?” she said. “Or do you get your kicks from listening to little girls use the ’fresher?”
Gyttel kept his face straight and spoke in a low, hushed growl. “I know who you are, ‘Angel.’”
“Well congratulations.” She smirked. She knew someone would recognize her eventually. “What do you want? A pat on the back? A cookie?”
“There’s still a bounty out on you. Most people have forgotten about it—the galaxy’s a large and ever-changing place, you know—but, there’s no statute of limitation on murder. I could still turn you in and conceivably be a very rich man.”
“There’s no ‘conceivably’ about it. Last I heard, my bounty was up over the million-credit mark. Bumping off a bunch of big-time Imp officers really gets a girl noticed.” She shrugged. “What can I say? I’m good at what I do.”
“Indeed.” Gyttel was taken aback, though he showed no sign of it. It was like she was bragging, like she was proud of herself. Gyttel noted her stance. Her hip was popped and she played with her hair as if she were trying to act indifferent to the situation, but her muscles were tense and her free hand dangled close to her sidearm. Outwardly, she appeared confident, but he could see that inside she was nervous. And she was ready to fight him if necessary. Gyttel called her on it.
“Were I you, I would think twice before picking a fight aboard this ship. You won’t be able to run very far.”
“So you thought you’d corner me somewhere I couldn’t fight back to make it an easy grab, huh? That’s low, even for an Imp.”
“No.” Gyttel turned to walk away. “Just be aware that I know what you are,” he said over his shoulder. “That should encourage you to be on your…best behavior.”
She made a face at him behind his back as he left. He was trying to scare her, that’s all. He felt intimidated by her, and Imps don’t like feeling inferior to anyone, especially a New Republic woman. At least, that’s what she told herself.
She crossed the hall and stepped into one of the crew quarters. It was empty. She climbed into one of the beds and closed her eyes. She stretched, opened her eyes again, then sighed. They would be docking with the Traquia soon. Not even enough time to catch a quick nap.
She slid off the bed, stood. She exited into the mess hall. Dav, Rollosk, and Ilixu were all there, swapping stories. She sat down next to her husband and put her head on his shoulder. She listened to their stories. She hadn’t realized how much she had actually missed that big, scaly lizard and little gray Bothan. It felt good to be back among friends.
Last edited by FunkyFreshMan on Thu Mar 01, 2012 10:48 pm, edited 1 time in total.
NRAF Nexus: "When Duty Calls"
Draar chayaikir batnor jetii—ancient Mandalorian proverb.
"We're gonna explode? I don't wanna explode!" —Jayne Cobb, Public Relations
I'm the guy who stole your sweetroll.

User avatar
General_Trageton

Fleet Admiral (Administrator)
Posts: 11743
Joined: Fri Apr 27, 2001 11:01 pm
Contact:

Post by General_Trageton » Thu Mar 01, 2012 10:36 pm

The Nighthawk's ten minutes flight to the Traquia felt like a torturingly endless stretch of time. While this Jedi Akkare was taking care of her injured sword arm, Shiromy only half-listening to Larcoon's elaborations of the situation. He mentioned things about an infiltration and data extraction, but his words, though meaningful they might be, rang hollow in her mind. Even the singing pain from the cauterized wound in her shoulder was merely a numb sensation. All her thoughts and feelings were focused on Vince.
Finally a soft vibration ran through the deck, as the large yacht touched down. Throwing Akkare a questioning look she received an easy nod.
"I think you're good to go" He said. "I recommend some healing meditation when you get the time but this'll do for now."
"Thank you" Shiromy replied in earnest gratitude. Likely she could have tended to her wounds herself but in her current state she just didn't have the nerve for that. Vince!
Leaving the CIC she barely waited for the boarding ramp to fully extend and almost flew towards the hangar deck, her heart racing in anticipation. And there he was, wearing the dark blue Supreme Commander's uniform, standing straight, his black hair and beard cleanly trimmed - pretty much the opposite of her current appearance; a statement of pride and integrity. A picture as familiar as one could be. This was Vince Trageton. For a second she stood there, just gazing at him, drowning in his bright blue eyes and his smug but gentle smile. She began to shiver. Everything was still present to her. She was ultimately unable to hold back any longer and could just manage to cross the few meters that separated them, flinging her arms around him and letting the tears roll, as the feelings overwhelmed her - sorrow and guilt, joy and relief. For a long moment the two of them just stood there, clutched in each other's embrace.
"It's ok now." He whispered. "It's over!"
As she stood there, her face buried in his chest, Shiromy tried to speak again but found herself unable to give word to all the questions and thoughts that swirled in her head. In the end she decided to stop trying and just enjoy this moment with him. It would be over soon enough.
Just then there was some sort of commotion coming from inside the Yacht. A flock of people - commandos and medics emerged on the boarding ramp, carrying someone on a barrow. As they passed them Shiromy was surprised to find noone else but Mryna Qhalic being the one they were carrying and who was now protesting vehemently against being nursed like that. Behind them Larcoon let the other commandos - some familiar, some strangers to her, towards the hangar entrance, exchanging only a brief nod with Vince. Faint memories returned; something Larcoon had said about infiltration? She had apparently forgotten, but now she remembered that Vince had not arrived alone. There had been others, following him; commandos who had been taken prisoner upon arrival. Like now all her thoughts had been focused on him and him only. His very presence had overshadowed and diminished theirs. The flood of impressions suddenly overwhelmed her, as her mind tried to piece together the bits and connect the logical strings.
"Come!" Vince said and gently maneuvered her towards the exit. "I think there's a lot to explain."

////////////////

Regardless of their recent stepping down it had turned out fully out of question that Vince and Shiromy would occupy the Traquia's royal quarters, as they had always done. Now in the comfortable lounge Vince fetched something to drink, waiting patiently as Shiromy drowned the glass of water and another. It felt as if she hadn't drunk anything in days. It felt good and slowly Shiromy found herself calming down again, allowing her thoughts to stop their frantic race and just fall into place. After a while she put down the glass and stared at Vince. He looked so different than she last remembered him. His eyes were of clear blue, his expression was soft and calm.
"It all seemed like a bad dream." Shiromy eventually said. "I thought you had gone insane."
"I surely was out of my mind" Vince said, mildly joking. "Literally." After all that had happened Shiromy was frankly amazed at how Vince could have regained his smug brashness so soon - a matter, which was both comforting and irritating at the same time. Irritating, as it made her feel as if had missed something on the way.
"What happened down there?" She eventually said. Of course, after the final conversation with Revan she had a perfectly clear picture of the events themselves, but still she was eager to hear the story from his point of view.
"I discovered something within me, when I woke up half-dead after the ambush. It began as mere feelings and thoughts that I found uncommon to myself; eventually though it developed some kind of consciousness; a presence, deeply immerged in the darkside." His gaze drifted.
"That presence" Shiromy said after a moment. "was a Sith spirit."
"Whatever it was" Vince said, somewhat dismissing the claim. "It might have been thanks to my Ydaa training that I'd been able to isolate it, before it could take over control." He seemed to deliberate for a moment. "At least until the moment I went to confront Rygetto; at that point I allowed it to take greater influence in my actions, while I stayed passive and observing."
"You knew that an evil spirit dwelled in your head and you allowed it to take over anyway?" Shiromy prompted and shook her head. "I knew you can be daredevil at times but this is ... Mako!" - for lack of a better word to describe it. Shiromy had caught up on that term at some point as being the synonym for the off-the-scale levels of crazy.
"I've had some good reasons." Vince insisted, then choosing his words carefully, when Shiromy focused him with an expectant gaze. "Curiosity was one thing - Rygetto was right about that. That Force thing was indeed strong in that place and it has done something to you. I made a choice. I allowed certain things to happen to me as well." Now he, too, sat down. "With the exception of you I have never fought any Force user before. To gain an advantage over them I had to see and experience it for myself. I had to understand what made those cultists so powerful." He forced an exhale. "As a side effect it gave that darker presence more substance."
"Of course it did." Shiromy shrugged with little understanding. "Feed a spirit and it becomes stronger." She waved off. "Never mind. So you unleashed that spirit and let me fight it while you call in the cavalry to nuke the planet." She scowled reproachfully. "Leaving aside that it almost killed me!"
"Well, in the end you came out alive and stronger than before, didn't you?" He pointed out but she just made a face at him. "Yes, I exposed you to great danger, both of us, for that matter, but don't I always?" Shiromy remained silent. "I do this because I have faith in your abilities and because I know I can trust you to see this through." He folded his hands and grinned. "A calculated risk - and part of my great insidious scheme." Shiromy sighed. Right, the mission...
"But I haven't found out much of value." she argued in resignation. "Rygetto always kept me on a short leash, well out of the loop about most dealings. Instead he wanted me to turn you to his cause." Vince merely offered her an understanding smirk.
"Of course he did. You're a warrior, not a spy. Your role in this was different than you may have thought."
"What?" Shiromy gazed at him in growing confusion. "B-But you told me to -"
"Actually I didn't tell you anything." he corrected and his grin widened. "You yourself insisted to take on this task. I suspected Rygetto would either see through your plan or otherwise be too focused on you for this to succeed, but I also saw an opportunity. So I did what any good husband does and kept the objections to myself, while plotting my own course in parallel." He leaned back and interlocked his fingers behind his head. "That was the other reason: the distraction."
"Distraction?!" Shiromy stared at him, as the obscure picture began to unfold before her eyes. "Oh no! No no no no! You didn't ... You're not telling me that all this... " She gestured wildly. Vince's grin grew wider.
"You are a walking supernova, Shiromy." He elaborated. "Beacons like you and me always shine brightly and attract attention, drawing it away from other, smaller things that take place off the stage. Everything you and I did had the sole purpose to draw as many as the cultists as possible away from the temple. We were there only for the show." Bit by bit the whole extent of events became clear to her. Even Revan's words echoed in her mind: With power comes purpose. As much as she hated it, she could suddenly see the reason behind his actions, and the ingenuity that lurked below the surface. She found herself desperately struggling to find any sort of swearwords or heavy pieces of decoration she could toss at him. Yet failing at that she could all but sigh and throw him a sour grimace.
Your ship, Captain. I need a drink. - Vince Trageton
Vince T's Design HQ | Vince T's X-Wing HQ | My Steam Workshop

User avatar
Mako
Lieutenant Commander
Bounty Hunter
Posts: 1609
Joined: Tue Jun 07, 2005 11:01 pm
Contact:

Post by Mako » Thu Mar 29, 2012 5:38 pm

Mako sat with his hands steeped in front of him. The last few days had not proven to be as fruitful as he had hoped. His and Roscha's forays into the man that was Rygetto had turned up nothing that couldn't be found in the regular records. Rygetto had a regular child hood and had gone to the Cha'Lynh academy at the age of twelve. Two years later he goes off world for training to become a Jedi. From there he had the usual training sessions with multiple masters, nothing out of the ordinary. The only thing of note was a trip to Wayland
with one Master Arlon Toth. From there everything seems fine But after a while Rygetto just simply disappears. It was presumed that he died on a mission to Makem Te where only Master Toth survived. These two clues told Mako where to look next and where the next part of his Kyaara's training would take part. He hadn't left Cophuran yet because The child was learning her latest lesson yet. People relations at the local cantina. The young woman was currently solving a dispute between a Cophurani and a Dhilani. Quite honestly the child had
done real well, remembering that it's easier to keep the sword sheathed before it's drawn rather than after. And with the help of the Dhilani she was succeeding, until an older Cophurani remembering an old battle decided to throw a chair. He must've been attuned to fire.
Mako casually moved his head out of the way of a thrown patron who had the bad idea of trying to catch Kyaara on her blind side, A mistake they won't make again. Now Kyaara was learning how to re sheath the sword once it's been drawn With the least amount of casualties. So far the other patrons were not making it easy for her, with the exception of the Dhilani. Seeing that Kyaara was handling the situation just fine Mako returned his attention to the holo in front of him.
"So now explain to me again what you did at Valmont."
The holo of Canthas took a deep breath. "There was no other choice. The ships of the lost fleet are only vulnerable to large gravity wells, namely black holes. Hell I'm not even sure those entirely kill them but it's the only way at the moment. Besides it was either I turn Valmont into a black hole and take out what ever portion of that fleet that I could, or I stand by and watch Republic, PSA, Imperial, and our own forces die."
Mako sighed again. "I commend your choice Canthas, You saved the lives of hundreds maybe even thousands, My only complaint is that you've shown a portion of our hand to a good portion of the galaxy in the process."
"Not to mention," Roscha chimed in who was standing nearby, "you failed to pay attention to someone rummaging around Qel-Droma's tomb. And putting Creator knows how many systems in danger by creating a new set of black holes where Valmont used to be."
Roscha was about to go on, but Mako waved her off "Leave it be dear. He Has enough to deal with as it is without you ripping into him." Roscha gave Mako a cold stare. "Besides remember," Mako added pointed at her extended belly, "We've got to keep your stress down."
"Then perhaps I should get a divorce." Roscha shot back
"Only in your nightmares dear." Mako replied, Which brought a slight chuckle from his spouse. "Anyway Canthas, any ideas on how we can stop the Lost Fleet without making any more black holes?"
Canthas nodded. "I have one, it requires fold drives, a lot of them, or a few massive ones."
Mako, stroked his beard. Massive Fold drives are not easy to make, especially since Youngkrull went back home. But I'll see what can be done."
"We're also going to need the cron drift for it's resourses." Canthas added.
"Then I'd advise you to get on that and quickly."
"Will do Boss." With that Canthas cut the link.
Mako took note of how quiet the Cantina had gotten suddenly just before he sensed Kyaara striding up next to him. "Problem solved?"
Kyaara nodded "I had to try a bit harder to get the hard headed ones to listen but yeah lesson learned. So what's next?"
Mako smiled "Next are two lessons, first diplomacy."
"And second?" Kyaara asked
"My personal favorite, and one My daughter, your future master, has a hard time with Power with responsibility."
"Responsibility?" Kyaara asked?
"Or in this case purpose." Roscha answered. "Which was the whole reason the Coalition was formed in the first place."
Power without perception is worthless and of no use.
Current WIP The Lost Fleet everything else is on hold.

User avatar
General_Trageton

Fleet Admiral (Administrator)
Posts: 11743
Joined: Fri Apr 27, 2001 11:01 pm
Contact:

Post by General_Trageton » Thu Mar 29, 2012 8:16 pm

Shiromy was standing on one of the Traquia's observation decks. Before her hung the dead carcass that had been the Codian moon. Large chunks of the planet drifted through space. The Traquia had held station after the destruction, making sure no Brotherhood stragglers would make an escape after all. Every so often the battleship's massive weapons would fire a salvo at pieces of rubble that were coming too close. Tiny sparks of light indicated brotherhood ships, trying to escape but being 'stopped' by the waiting PSA forces. Nobody was to get away this time. It was no less a precation than a retaliation for Yavin IV. The entire picture was morbidly scenic - and a disturbing reminder of the massacre of Dhilon.
She had needed some time to process the overdose of information, the revelations of what had actually happened - and how she had fit into all this. Her first impresson had been that Vince still had not trusted her. But she realized now the error in her thinking. He had trusted her a great deal, by relying on her to occupy and distract Rygetto without falling for him, up to a degree when the second half of the plan could be executed - mostly - safely. She had heard of the ordeal that Mryna had suffered. Still things could have been much worse if the infiltration team had had the brotherhood's full attention. 'People like us are never subtle' Vince had said. 'It is our job to stand in the spotlight and draw the attention away from the small things.' His plan had succeeded. Mryna's team had accomplished their mission and the collected data was being evaluated. Hopefully it would expose all major outposts and players.
This however also demanded them to strike, while the brotherhood was weakened. This temple, this moon had been one of the Brotherhood's spiritual centers, a place of power. Its destruction was a major strike against them. But Shiromy knew it wasn't enough. Even with the temple gone, the moon destroyed and every acolyte killed it all still remained a loose end. The Brotherhood wasn't defeated - Crippled, maybe, but there were stil enough of them out there to pose a threat. The cult was merely brought off balance, and only for a moment. Soon they would recover and become more dangerous than ever. Being honest to herself, Shiromy wasn't even entirely sure whether or not Darius was truly dead. Knowing him there was a slim chance he had escaped - even with the PSA's fighters making sure to intercept any fleeing craft - and take no prisoners. No prisoners. Shiromy thoughts raged back and forth. The whole situation left a strange, bitter taste on her tongue. It wasn't the nature of this course of action. It was - much like the picture before her - the bewildering familiarity - and now Revan's words that would eversince echo in her head:
'I was impressed by his resolve and his will to go to such lengths. With time and guidance he would make a formidable sith himself.' Did Revan know something she didn't? What was the ancient spirit planning?
"Now who's brooding too much?" She heard a familiar voice and found Vince joining her.
Shiromy sighed. "I just can't help but think of all the parallels between this" she motioned at the dying moon "and Dhilon. Eventhough I know this is not the same, I still can't shake the memories." They remained silent for a moment. "What becomes of us now?" Shiromy eventually inquired.
"That - for a pleasant change - is entirely up to us to decide." Vince said. "I've had a quick status update with President Tremayne. He's aware of some councilors already being corrupted and has agreed to reinstate me as Supreme Commander. As for you" He made a pause. "I'd love to have you at my side again but I think with the recent events the jedi will need you."
"Me?" Shiromy laughed. "I doubt they will accept a part-time Sith Lady into their ranks."
Vince shrugged. "I don't think they're in a position to be picky. You have a good heart, Shiromy. I'm sure they'll accept you." His smile then turned into a wide grin. "Just don't insist to teach philosophy or diplomacy - ow." He made a pained grimace as her clenched fist hit his shoulder.
"So, what else?"
"Well looks like we missed quite a brawl." Vince went on. "Ray updated me about the events at Valmont."
"Valmont?" Shiromy inquired and raised a brow "Wasn't that where you had left the rest of Mryna's team?" Vince nodded.
"Ray's had the Mirage under surveillance after she'd been rediscovered. She had come under attack by Brotherhood forces so he'd sent further reinforcements. The ensueing battle had grown massive proportions. We had confirmed contacts of KC, NR and Imperial vessels present and fighting alongside. They were having quite a hard time with ships that regenereated themselves after their destruction."
"The lost Fleet" Shiromy said pressed and felt a knot form in her throat. "Ancient battleships controlled by the Force itself. I've heard rumors that they'd been rediscovered recently and that Darius was planning to seize them." She forced an exhale before she continued. "I didn't know he had already been successful. So what happened then?"
Vince's expression became somewhat strange. "The reports are a bit vague, but apparently one of the KC ships jettisoned a fold core into the planet. The impact created a singularity that destroyed the entire system."
"They destroyed the system?" Shiromy repeated incredulously. Blowing up a moon was one thing, but wiping out an entire star system .... "Mako?"
Vince shook his head. "Sounds more like one of his top men. Canthas maybe."
"Oh?" Shiromy raised an eyebrow. "How do you tell crazy from crazy?"
"A matter of style." Vince elaborated with a grin and crossed his arms. "Like I know Mako, he would've targeted the sun."
"Eugh, point taken" Shiromy just made and shook her head. Men! "So what now?"
"Ray ordered all ships to report any Brotherhood contact immediately and then retreat. We cannot risk open combat until we find a way to deal with this lost fleet." He sighed. "End of report. I think we should have a chat with Mako, see how far he's come."
"And Kyaara, too." Shiromy added. "I think she'll want to know her parents are alright and no longer trying to kill each other."

////////////////

"Why do you always have to fight each other?" Kyaara's face was stern, her fists on her hips, her voice sharp and reproachful. Nobody who'd see her now would take for a mere child of eleven years. The judges had spoken and now it was time for the final pledge. And Shiromy realized that the only thing that would do now, was the truth.
"That was part of one of Daddy's great plans, dear."
"Which usually end up with you two fighting." Kyaara pointed out and Shiromy found herself unable to completely disagree this time. She sighed. Mako had a bad influence on her. That girl had her father's smarts, her temper - and now his tongue!
"It was a distraction." She explained calmly. "Daddy and I had to make sure Aunt Mryna and her team could escape to safety, so we put up a fight to catch all those cultists' attention."
"But Uncle Mako told me that showing your full power is a bad idea because your opponent will look through you."
"And he's perfectly right about that." Vince agreed. "But Mommy and I know how powerful the other is" looking at her he added "I think. And in this special case we had to go all the way to be sure that really all the cultists were focused on us - and nothing does that better than a show of force."
"M-hmm." Kyaara made, loosely grasping the idea and a wicked smirk spread on her face. "Sooo if I wanted to get some more attention..."
"Don't even think of it, little one!" Mako interrupted her sternly, then addressed them. "Please don't give her ideas, at least not while I'm the one left holding the bag!"
"Aw come on, you've handled yourself alright so far" Vince taunted, to which Mako scowled something incomprehensible. Eventually Kyaara sighed and threw him a bewilderingly mature blank glance. "Right, so I bet you have grown-up stuff talk about." As Kyaara whirled around and slid out of view Shiromy noticed for the first time a certain fluent elegence she wouldn't have expected in a being as young as her daughter. And she found herself mumbling those naive words she had sworn hever to utter. "They grow up so fast!"
"Tell me about it!" Mako groaned. "A few more days and she'll be training with Ferris! But anyway, what's your story? I hear you went in deep. Where have you been exactly?"
"The Codian Moon." Shiromy explained. "The brotherhood had set up a large temple there."
"Hmmm" Mako made ponderously. "And Rygetto was there, too?"
"Yes" Vince confirmed. "Shiromy spent most of her time with him, before I arrived, and I smacked his head through a few walls for that - ow!" He received an elbow check from Shiromy.
"And you are sure it was him?"
"Yes, definitely" Shiromy said. "I've had a lot of ... uh ... dealings with him and his power and presence was out of question."
"Power and presence, eh?" Vince taunted once more. "And you wonder why I'm jealous - Ow!"
"Riiight ... Well here's the twist: My people also spotted him on Mimban at the same time. Scummy little snotball of a backwater planet but known to have hosted a powerful artifact in the past."
"You think it might have been a double?" Vince frowned.
"Double, clone, lost twin-brother, I don't know." Mako shrugged. "Cloning Force users hasn't proven too successful so far, but if it's true, we've got a fine mess here!"
"Well, hopefully it'll be one less now. If my blast didn't kill him right away, we got him when we blew up that moon."
"Well that should at least ... wait" Mako almost choked. "You what?"
Vince sighed. "We destroyed the moon. After Lady Firefly here tore its core apart we hit it with a full fusion cannon volley."
"Wow!" Mako made slightly takena back. "That's gonna be a life's work to paint the kill marks on your hull." A wide grin spread on his face. "I don't need to tell you about the shit-load of repercussions such actions usually drag along." Shiromy couldn't help but smirk, knowing how in the past Vince had used to lecture Mako in quite similar fashion. But Vince remained unimpressed.
"Says the man who's just turned a star system into a black hole."
"That wasn't my idea!" Mako pointed out defensively, then grinned. "Though I give Canthas ten points for style for riding that blastwave like a bunch of space cowboys. Honestly though, the reason for all this is what worries me the most right now."
"The Lost fleet." Shiromy concluded.
"Yeah." Mako said grimly. "And to top things off both the New Republic and the Empire were around to watch this glorious stunt."
"Well" Vince shrugged. "There comes a time for each of us to step into the spotlight and show colors. Welcome to the public stage!"
"Veeery funny!" Mako growled, while Vince's grin grew ever wider.
"Aw come on, a bit of publicity never hurts." He continued and his tone became somewhat dramatic. "The eyes of the galaxy are laid upon you, Mr. Starcrusher. You, Sir, are a star now!"
"I hate you!" Mako grumbled. "But speaking of publicity, what are you up to, now that you're no longer top dog of the pack?" Vince just grinned.
"Who says I'm not?"
Your ship, Captain. I need a drink. - Vince Trageton
Vince T's Design HQ | Vince T's X-Wing HQ | My Steam Workshop

User avatar
FunkyFreshMan
Lieutenant JG
Rebel Alliance
Posts: 602
Joined: Sun Oct 04, 2009 11:55 pm

Post by FunkyFreshMan » Fri May 04, 2012 10:34 pm

Frost awoke to the sight of a medical droid standing over him. He looked around. The room was bright, white, and sterile. It was filled with all sorts of high-tech, but delicate, machinery, and another dozen or so beds like the one he was lying on. Small bacta tanks were lined up against one wall.
“What am I doing in the medbay?” he said groggily as he sat up.
The medical droid beeped then said in a rather irritated tone, “That is exactly what I want to know. They drag you in here saying you had a heart attack and passed out, but there is nothing medically wrong with you. Except that smoking habit of yours. Terrible!”
“Heart attack?”
“That’s what they said.” The droid’s servos whirred as he motioned toward a group of anxious-looking officers that were waiting in the hallway outside. “But there is no indication of such a thing happening. I swear you organics are so easily panicked. You always assume the worst is happening.”
“What did happen?”
“I think it’s all in your head. Either that or this is someone’s idea of a bad joke.”
Frost leaned forward. It was definitely in his head. The fire, the death, the feeling of an entire world cracking apart. Frost had a front-row seat to all of it; it almost felt as if he was actually there. “How long do you plan on keeping me here?”
“Your vitals are all positive. As long as you can stand on your own, I see no need to hold you any longer. You are free to leave.”
Frost lifted himself out of the bed, and gathered his shirt and tunic that were draped over a nearby chair. He slipped on his shirt, turned to the medical droid. “You have a wonderful bedside manner, Doc,” he said rather dryly.
“I am programmed to treat physical discomfort, not emotional.”
Frost chuckled as he cinched his tunic. He stepped out into the hallway.
“Admiral,” one of the officers said, “what happened? Are you all right?”
“That rust bucket in there says I’m fine,” Frost replied. “But I’d like to get a second opinion. Send word to the Jedi; tell them to send one of their best healers to my quarters.”
“Yes, sir.”
“Let’s see if these Jedi are as smart as everyone says they are.”

****

“Reach out with your senses. Can you feel me?”
Frost gave an apprehensive stare to the old Jedi healer seated across from him. The wrinkled, grey-bearded, pointed-eared humanoid looked more like a crazy old wizard than a powerful healer.
“Can you feel me?” the old healer repeated.
Frost reached out a hand and planted his palm on the Jedi’s forehead. “Yes.”
Obviously lacking a sense of humor, the Jedi calmly pushed away Frost’s hand and said, quite seriously, “Your physical senses can deceive you. Tell me, can you feel my presence in your mind? Stretch out with your feelings. Feel the Force. Search for my mind in yours.”
Frost continued to stare. “Huh?”
The Jedi stroked his wiry beard. “Interesting,” he said. “You do not seem to have an attunement to the Force. At least, not the same kind of attunement the Jedi have.”
“Then why can I sense things?”
The healer made a low, grumbling sound then said, “What exactly are these ‘things,’ as you call them? When did they start? When do you feel them?”
Frost proceeded to explain his struggle with Narine, and how he had felt her burrowing into his brain. “It all seemed to start after that. There were times that I could feel the life draining out of the cultists I killed, or ones that were died close by. And I felt a strange sort of pain as we left the Brotherhood fleet over Valmont. I assume it had something to do with...whatever that was that just happened to them. I can’t explain the most recent feeling I had, though.”
“The one with the fire?”
“Yes. Could Narine have transferred her abilities to me? Is such a thing even possible? Can the Force be transferred?”
The old Jedi leaned back in his chair and looked thoughtfully at the ceiling. “No. That is to say, I have never heard of it happening to someone with no latent abilities. Sometimes, an individual will not know he has such powers until they are drawn out, or discovered by another that is more attune to such things. This is usually set from birth, however. The Force is not a common skill that anybody can learn given enough time. Either you have it, or you don’t. You, Admiral, do not have it.”
“Then what the hell has been going on in my brain?”
That is an interesting question. You are connected to the Force.”
Frost’s face began to flush. He was getting irritated. “So I’m connected to the Force, but I’m not? Make up your mind!”
The Jedi remained calm. “Please, Admiral. There is no need to get angry. Allow me to explain.
“Everyone and everything is connected to the Force, some more than others. Those with high attunement can learn to control it. They also open themselves to the Force’s energy, and are more influenced by the light and dark sides. Simple things, like anger, are more damaging to a Jedi and can lead him to the dark side. You cannot learn the ways of the Jedi, nor are you any more influenced by its light or dark side than any other non-Force user. Your anger will just lead you to temporary ill feelings, and maybe add to your blood pressure. All men have and evil side, but you are not at risk of ‘falling to the dark side.’”
“So what do these feelings mean?”
The healer shrugged. “Honestly, I can’t say for certain. It will require much more research. At first glance, it seems as if you have become part of a ‘collective.’ The Brotherhood, like any other Force-adepts, are connected to each other though the Force. They’re connected to everything. However, it is my theory that they have some kind of ability that binds them together in a way that few Jedi have known. Whether this power comes from the Force, or through something more arcane, it is a power that is unique to them. They are all connected at all times, and quite strongly. Narine somehow gave this ability to you and ‘inducted’ you into the Brotherhood collective.”
“So when does it go away?”
“It doesn’t.”
Frost’s heart sunk. “So you’re saying I’m going to be stuck with this for the rest of my life?”
“Possibly, but it’s not as debilitating as you fear. I believe you have a rather mild connection. You can only feel others in the collective if they are nearby, or if a very large group feels something very powerful at the same time, like the black holes. I fear the fire you experienced may have been another large-scale catastrophe somewhere in the Galaxy, but that is another matter.”
“Aside from the splitting headaches and blackouts, that could be quite a handy skill.”
“Indeed. Look at it in a positive light. And once this conflict is resolved, I doubt it will trouble you often, if at all in the future.”
Frost let out a relieved sigh. “So I can’t move things with my mind, then?”
“Unfortunately, you cannot.”
“Well that’s a bit of a downer, but at least I now have some answers. I could only imagine how awful these feelings must be to someone fully integrated into this collective.”
The Jedi stood. “I will continue to research this phenomenon and consult with some of my peers. If I discover any more, I will send you word.”
Frost stood and shook the old Jedi’s hand. “You Jedi are all right. Thanks for seeing me on such short notice.”
The Jedi bowed deeply. “It was my pleasure. The others will be quite jealous that I was the first to study this new discovery.” He gave the Admiral a wink and a smile then made his way toward the door.
As the healer left the room, Frost sat back down in his chair and lit his pipe.
NRAF Nexus: "When Duty Calls"
Draar chayaikir batnor jetii—ancient Mandalorian proverb.
"We're gonna explode? I don't wanna explode!" —Jayne Cobb, Public Relations
I'm the guy who stole your sweetroll.

User avatar
General_Trageton

Fleet Admiral (Administrator)
Posts: 11743
Joined: Fri Apr 27, 2001 11:01 pm
Contact:

Post by General_Trageton » Fri May 04, 2012 11:36 pm

The room was dark safe for the light shining in, as Shiromy shuffled out of the fresher, her still wet hair wrapped in a towel. Vince was lying on the bed, hands crossed behind his head, his eyes open, directed upwards, gazing out into the star-dotted void of space beyond the panoramic viewport above.
"Brooding again?" She inquired lightly. "You know that'll cause you wrinkles."
"I'm nearing my mid 50s" Vince muttered. "I think I'm entitled to some by now."
"Just pointing out that I like my men crisp and smooth." Shiromy teased, while rubbing her hair dry and finally removing the towel. "So, what are you brooding about?"
"I was thinking back when I first faced off against Rygetto. The power I felt then, as I attacked him" Vince said. "The power that I thought was my own."
"But it wasn't?" Shiromy questioned, as she stood up and approached the bed.
"Apparently not." He let out a low sigh, staring at his hands. "I can't feel it anymore. Was it bound to that place?"
"No" Shiromy said and softly sat down at the edge of the bed, gently running her fingers through his short black hair. "The Force was strong there, sure, but noone gains the power to summon Lightning just by being there. I would think it was the SIth spirit's might. that allowed you this easy access."
"I should have known." Vince said and bitter disappointment swung in his voice. "It felt so real, so natural, so simple. The power was just... there. Nothing I had to drain from somewhere else like a ravenous parasite." His voice trailed off. Sensing his dismay Shiromy laid down and snuggled to him.
"The power of the Force isn't in you, not the way you imagine it." She explained. "The Force is all around us, always present like the air we breathe. The spirit showed it to you from a master's perspective. But to reach this level of control you must first learn to use the Force, to connect to it in the ways the Jedi and Sith do." Reaching into the sleeve of her silken bathrobe she pulled off a silvery bracelet - She had formed it from the small cube which Roscha had given to her at the beginning of her Zhawn training. Focusing her Zhawn powers she returned the small bracelet to its original cubic form. Then, drawing solely on the the Force she let the small object hover above her open palm. "A part of that I can teach you, if you want."
"Would you?" Vince questioned. There was a strange note to his tone. "Even how to summon lightning?"
"Vince ..." she started, choosing her words carefully. "You know that such practices would lead you towards the dark side."
"I know" Vince said, equally thoughtful. "There's always a catch." Shiromy stared at him for a long moment - once again hearing Revan's words in her mind. 'With time and guidance ...'
"Tell you what" She eventually said and, using the Force, turned off the bathroom's lights. "We'll talk about this tomorrow."

////////////////

As the giant PSA flagship finally turned and set a course out of the system, the Codian moon was nothing but a a slowly expanding cloud of rubble. Chunks rock ranging from pebble to the size of a medium freighter. Death now reigned in this part of the galaxy. When the massive engines of the battlecruiser blazed in fierce orange and the ship leapt out of the system, a singular object seemed to awake from its dead slumber. Its surface charred and deformed it was hardly recognizable as being a ship, until a pair of blue engines lit up nad the small object began to move, out and away from the debris field. A few minutes later the ship, too jumped into hyperspace.
Your ship, Captain. I need a drink. - Vince Trageton
Vince T's Design HQ | Vince T's X-Wing HQ | My Steam Workshop

Seagulls
Cadet 1st Class
Posts: 143
Joined: Wed Jan 20, 2010 7:12 am
Contact:

Post by Seagulls » Sun Jun 03, 2012 2:26 am

Alicia sat on her haunches on the central engine block of the Crescent as a New Republic tech and one of her own engineers rappelled down the engines to survey the damage.
'And if they start fighting, down there, so help me I'll cut their rappel cables.' She thought to herself. 
She took a step back as she realized that she wasn't clipped to a lifeline. One false step and she would join Admiral Frost in the medic bay. She shuddered involuntarily as she clipped in, trying not to dwell on the shocked look on his face as he collapsed to the ground.
It was scary to see a fit man have a heart attack out of the blue. Then again, he had said something. And now the Jedi were checking on him.
'Once this is all over I'll be very grateful for some easy escort runs' she thought to herself. 'This has been too creepy.'

Alicia looked down to see the heads of both of the techs looking at her and she realized they had addressed her.
"Yes?"
"Would you mind taking a look? It really isn't as bad as it could be."
"Of course."
She tugged on her lifeline and slipped over the edge into the engine well.

||||||||||||||||||||||||

Aaron Valis stood behind a tall Trandoshan wearing an orange pilot suit,  in a queue that seemed to stretch away forever, down one corridor and looping around and all the way past him back to Supply. All he needed were a few droids to make the work easier. Plus, he needed to go to the head.
"Who needs droids", he muttered, and shot out of the line toward the refresher. Which also had a queue.

Thankfully he had a private cabin on the Crescent. After relieving himself he made his way to the bridge. Sitting down at the communications desk he ran through the log from the time they regained comms.
The log read like a novel.

Ten minutes later he stood and stretched. There was work to be done.

|||||||||||

Crescent flared her engines, a deep booming roar. Repulsorlifts kicked in and the tractor beam nudged her into open space. She throttled up to low sublight speeds and pushed to flank speed.

"Crescent to WildfireAll green. Happy Returns"—Alicia's voice came clearly over the commlink, cheerful as ever despite the long hours of hard labor.

Crescent gunned her engines and did a close barrel roll around Wildfire's nose.

On the bridge, Aaron wiped his sweating brow as the proximity sensors rang around him. They hadn't replaced any of the viewports, so he was flying blind. There would be a lot more work to do once they got home.
He relaxed the flight stick as they completed their loop. Azimuth sensors showed he was running clear and free, so he flicked the switch off of manual control and stood.

"ISD Repressorbearing at three-nine-zero", an officer called.

Alicia looked up from her data pad. "I wonder how they got mixed up in this. Give me a direct line to their bridge."

"Crescent to Repressor, reporting in, do you copy? Crescent to Repressor, reporting in, do you copy?"
"Copy that Crescent."
"Permission to part company?"
"Negative. We're sending a shuttle for your commander."

Silence.

"Copy that Repressor. Heaving to on your port beam."


Aaron gave a hesitant look at Alicia's back as she walked off of the bridge. He could tell that she was measuring every step. She paused, did an exact left turn, and paced her way towards her cabin.

Aaron silently took the bridge. Half of the responsibility really lied with him, but the name on the commission was Lt. Alicia Rying, and that would be all that the Admiralty would look at. If there was something that needed to be investigated, which he doubted. Still, it was a lot of stress on his best friend.

They had mounted a small camera in the main hangar to take the place of the external cameras; even through the mag-field distortion he could see the shuttle that was putting off from Repressor's hangar.

"Crescent to SHU Alpha, heaving to at two-onethirty-oh. Ref: Flag"
"Copy Crescent. On our way.
"

He sighed and sat down, waiting for the two paths to converge. Five minutes went by and he stood and left the bridge. He found Alicia sitting at the table they had sat at when they had first come aboard. She was staring at the shuttle throug the only unbroken viewport in the ship; her satchel of books had spilled on the floor, but she hadn't noticed.

Aaron picked the stack up and set them on the table next to her datapad. She had already found time to write her report.
He put his hand over her shoulders.
"It will work out fine. You'll see."
They slowed to a halt and the SHU Started docking.
"Get going" he said.
She took a few steps.
"Hey."
She turned.
"See you in a bit."
She nodded and walked up into the shuttle.

||||||||

No one seemed to take any notice when the Shuttle touched down and she was escorted to a turbolift by a nervous ensign.
He tried to avoid looking at her sideways, staring hard at the wall.

The turbolift stopped at a middle  level and she caught his glance full in the face. 
He blushed and shuffled out of the lift.

Alicia managed a slight grin and followed him to a room with double doors at the end of the corridor.

He stood to one side opened the door; she tipped her hat to him and took a deep breath. Two exact, long paces into the room, an exact salute, and she froze as Admiral Pitto looked up from his desk with a grin on his face.
Last edited by Seagulls on Mon Jun 04, 2012 1:03 am, edited 1 time in total.
Seagulls
Red 6
CRS Morning Star: Home of Red Squadron

"Now you're using that misfiring hunk of erratic machinery you refer to as a brain"-Ton Phanan. Pilot, Wit, Superior Intellect.

User avatar
General_Trageton

Fleet Admiral (Administrator)
Posts: 11743
Joined: Fri Apr 27, 2001 11:01 pm
Contact:

Post by General_Trageton » Sun Jun 03, 2012 11:12 am

A good day had passed since the escalation on the Codian Moon, as the Traquia joined up with the surviving fleets of Valmont. A strange gathering of warships, charred, battered, worn. Some still in genuinely good shape, while others seemed to be barely holding together. Much to Vince's discontent, the Mirage had taken a hefty beating after its maiden launch. The ship that used to look like a scaled replica of the Traquia now appeared like a deformed mass of charcoal. By his orders, the ship's crew had been extracted and brought aboard the Traquia and haulers had been called in to move the cruiser to its secret base within the Olympus cloud, where it would undergo evaluations and, based on these, its future would be decided. The KC under the Achilles' lead had remained pretty much silent for the wole time, and as soon as their engines would allow it, the fleet had left the system, ensuring that the organization's nebulous reputation was maintained.
As the various commandos had departed to return to their own factions' ships, Vince had taken the opportunity to thank each of them personally for their efforts during the past campaign, followed by a hologram conference with the two commanders of the Imperial and New Republic Forces, which turned out quite enlightening.

The NR's Commander had introduced himself as High Admiral Mylan Frost, a grim and hardened Veteran with sharply defined contures, although his eyes were showing obvious signs of strain and fatigue, little surprising given the past few days. In fact, as Vince had learned then, Frost had missed out on most of the battle at Valmont, as he had been forced to fight his own battle aboard his flagship, CRS Wildfire. Vince could sympathise with what this Admiral and his men had gone through to protect the Jedi. Moreso he couldn't shake a growing agitation about the role the Jedi had played during all this. Looking back at the developments so far, he found it mustly dissatisfying that the Jedi had never truly taken an active role in this safe for defending themselves when directly threatened. Their determination to react but not to act had allowed the Brotherhood to infiltrate and decimate them as it had. All in all Vince was, being blunt, quite disappointed and the picture he had had of them so far severely stained. Still, he had deemed it wiser to keep those views to himself and instead hope for them to recover soon and find the resolve it would take to end this crisis.
The other man, Admiral Pitto, had become something of a familiar sight by now. It hadn't been too long that the two of them had faced off over Calim VI. This time Pitto had apparently been in charge of the Imperial operations against the Brotherhood, so in some way his counterpart. A development that had come as a pleasant change to Vince given their moved past. While Pitto was only short on time the three had agreed to maintain loose connection and update each other on any developments regarding the Brotherhood.

Their next stop took them to Bricera, where Darron and Mryna departed. Apart from the injuries Mryna had suffered, most of which had already been cured by Gurn Akkare, numerous of her bionical augmentations were still damaged and had to be tended to by Shicon specialists. Darron had insisted to coming with her and Vince had let them. It would take a few days for the acquired data to be decrypted and processed into usable information, so Vince had left Ray in charge while he and Shiromy had left the Traquia and taken a smaller ship to have a short time for themselves. The Corsair was a light transport of similar build as the Nighthawk, although different in configuration. Whereas the Nighthawk had been modified and specialized for fast and stealthy flights, the Corsair was a heavily armed beast. Although the main hull plating looked as if it had been left in its original white tone - safe for a few colored markings here and there - Vince had been told that under the surface layers of additional shielded armor-plating had been installed. Along with extensive upgrades to weaponry and shields, a pair of low, scythe-shaped wings, dorsal fins and additional thrusters had been added to grant the ship additional speed and maneuvering stability.

"You never told me what happened to Mryna?" Shiromy noted, after they had cleared the Traquia's hangar and were setting jump course for deepspace. A gentle nodge to the controls brought it into a wide arc and finally on course towards the destination coordinates.
"Azrael said she got wounded in a lightsaber fight with a cultist." Vince recollected, as he reclined in the pilot's seat. In fact, this kept bugging him, too. Mryna was a formidable fighter, but she should have known better than going one on one with a senior force user and let him drag her onto his terrain. Maybe Ice Queen's death had had something to do with it? Mryna had never been a vengeance type of person, but maybe, watching her squadmate kill herself under the cultist's control triggered something?
Shiromy let out a low sigh. "You really should give her some proper lightsaber training."
"Me?" Vince threw her an irritated grimace. "Last time I checked you were the blade master."
"My my, you still have a lot to learn." Shiromy purred in mock reproval. "The Jedi have a saying: True learning begins when you embark to teach."
"Pffft! The Jedi have a saying for everything." Vince muttered dryly, to which Shiromy threw him a spiteful face. For a moment the engines' low hum rose in pitch and volume as the Corsair accelerated and finally, with a glistening burst of light, made the leap into hyperspace. "If they invested as much energy in solving problems and keeping peace as they did in formulating proverbs and tantrums, this galaxy would be a much safer place."
"I think you'd make a good Jedi!" she claimed with a teasing smirk.
"Hardly!" Vince laughed shortly and found more bitterness in his tone than he had intended. "If their performance over the past month was in any way representative then they failed badly to make a good impression on me."
"You're too hard on them!" Shiromy said almost apologetically. "Look what they've gone through."
"So what?" Vince questioned. "Sure, Yavin IV was a devastating blow, there's no denying that. But what did they do in response? Did they actively investigate? Did they make attempts to track these aggressors? No! They withdrew into the belly of that Calamari Cruiser, holding their so-called conclave and utterly waiting for the cult to come for them. And guess what?" Anger rose him as he recalled what Admiral Frost had told him. "The Brotherhood did come for them, infiltrated them and slayed half of this conclave!" He glowered at the blurred tunnel before him.
"Well, they 'sent' me to investigate." Shiromy offered, but Vince only waved her off.
"That was more my doing than theirs. And then look at it: You were likely as powerful as the masters but, in their eyes, mentally unstable. And they let you go with Toth - and I bet they knew he was a rat! They utterly sacrificed you to the Brotherhood, not to mention robbing themselves of a powerful warrior when they needed one. By hiding within that cruiser they also put the lives of everyone else within that fleet in jeopardy. They hid and let everyone else get their hands dirty and do what was supposed to be their job. You can't tell me that this was all excusable by the shock after Yavin IV."
Shiromy had fallen silent, regarding him from the copilot's seat with a strangely quizzical expression. That silence by itself was maddening. He would have expected her to disagree vehemently, defending the Jedi and lecturing him about the constraints, which they had laid upon themselves and which would by some devine wisdom justify this course of action. But instead she just listened and observed, a disturbingly familiar reflection of himself. "Maybe I'm out of line here," Vince finally continued, unable to take any more of that silence. "But when you fell to the darkside and killed me, I didn't just hole up somewhere, hoping the bad dream would somehow end." His right hand stiffened and he gestured as if he were slicing the air with it. "No! I put plans in motion to resolve the situation."
"You let our fleets battle each other." Shiromy pointed out. "You, too, sacrificed lives."
"That I did." Vince admitted but with little regret. "but those sacrifices were part a greater plan, whereas they appeared completely without a plan and simply hidng behind their soldiers. In the end, at Calim, I took the initiative and brought the whole mess to an end. And that is what I would expect from someone of their standing and their power."
"Someone of their power" Something flashed in Shiromy's expression, as she repeated his last phrasing. "Interesting choice of words."
"Who else?" Vince questioned, wincing at her somewhat enigmatic reference. "An average Force user is worth ... what ... fifty soldiers? A hundred? How can the Jedi expect ordinary people to stand a chance against an army of Force wielding fanatics? How can they justify throwing battallion after battalion and ship after ship to shield themselves against this cult, whereas they should be protecting them? isn't it them who claim that the Force is Shield and sword? Is it not the duty of the powerful to stand and defend those powerless?"
Once again Shiromy remained silent for a while. But her gaze was no longer as piercing and probing as it had before. Instead she had grown pensively, as if struggling with her own conscience, allowing Vince to regain his own composure. When she spoke her tone was thoughtful and deliberate. "What would you suggest then? What if they don't live up to this responsibility? Who else, do you think, should take up this burden?"
"Well" Vince started unable to suppress a cynical smile. "who has taken it up so far? Adminis, Malachor V, Nar Shaddaa, Mon Calamari, Mandalore, Calim - the list grows longer every day." Vince had long accepted that the galaxy was a harsh and, above all, ungrateful place. With individuals like Mako, Roscha, David or themselves secretly watching over the currents of chaos and keeping an eye on elements that might become a threat, knowing that no acknowledgement or appreciation would ever come to them, the Jedi of recent had shown little initiative to support their efforts by, for instance, taking care of their business instead of relying on outside help even then. Making things worse they, on the other hand, tended to meddle and interfer in Vince's and Mako's affairs proving more obstructive than helpful. Was he expecting too much? Was it too much to ask that they got their matters sorted out? Following this line of thoughts it suddenly occurred to him that the rise of the Brotherhood was only a symptome of its time. A sign of the Jedi order's growing ineptness to raise let alone preserve faith in them. Unlike his initial musings after the WMD attack on Yavin IV the dwindling of trust in the Jedi had not been an immediate result but a development that had set in long before, with the Brotherhood being its first visible apparition. The Jedi were supposed to be a vigil, the beacon of hope in this galaxy. If they failed, who was to step in? As much as he resented it, the answer loomed there, within his mind, merely waiting to be acknowledged.
"It seems the events have truly left their mark on you, Vince." Shiromy said slowly. Something odd swung in her voice. It was as if she had been studying him through the whole conversation, looking into his very heart as he unburdened his mind. She hadn't contradicted him and in the end hadn't judged him either. Was it just because their mutual love for one another? Or was there something else? Uncertainty gave birth to new anger, which gnawed deeply within him; frustration about the apparent lack of direction and concept displayed by those who were supposed to be the galaxy's guides and guardians; weariness about vouching and sacrificing himself time and again to deliver where they couldn't - only to be met with more suspicion, resentment and treachery!
And there it was again. With this anger he could also sense that power boiling within him again. The raw uncanny force that was his own raged like a subdued beast, waiting to be set free. He knew now what it was and what it would mean. Was this the power he wanted? And how far would he be ready and willing to go to achieve it? What would happen, if he didn't take this opportunity? As unclear as his position might seem, he himself was now perfectly well aware of his dilemma: He was caught up between two fronts of light and dark, lost and without direction. It was a feeling he wasn't familiar and definitely not comfortable with; in particular as it felt disturbingly familiar to the semi-comatous state he had been in after the ambush, left to drift through the dark, crippled, blind and deaf - and boilng with rage.
"Where is all this going, Shiromy?" he asked slowly. When she responded she offered him a warm yet foreboding smile.
"That, for now, will be entirely yours to decide." And with that she had sent him full circle. He knew that at some point he would have to make a choice. But he wasn't one to make decisions lightly - even less decisions of this magnitude! As of now, he didn't feel ready for what lay before him. After a quick glance at the navi computer Shiromy rotated towards him in her seat, leaned onto the board and rested her chin on her interlocked hands. "We'll have a few more hours before we reach our destination. Why don't you tell me again, how you confronted Darius?"
Your ship, Captain. I need a drink. - Vince Trageton
Vince T's Design HQ | Vince T's X-Wing HQ | My Steam Workshop

User avatar
Mako
Lieutenant Commander
Bounty Hunter
Posts: 1609
Joined: Tue Jun 07, 2005 11:01 pm
Contact:

Post by Mako » Thu Jul 19, 2012 6:53 am

Things were not going as planned, But then again that was nothing new. The plan was simple, Step 1: Establish power base. Step 2: Take control of the Hutts and all they owned to fund operations. Step 3: Get in good with the other leaders of the governments that operated independently of both the Then Rebel Alliance and Empire while mapping all of the ancient Rakata and Sith Empires.
Step 4: Using his influence and smugglers sources use the outer rim worlds that everyone over looks to find the Keepers and all the other hidden dirty dark secrets of the universe and keep thm under wraps without anyone else in the galaxy knowing.
Step 5: Keep watch and make sure no one gets too big for their slacks. If they do sneak in handle the problem then leave before anyone was the wiser with nothing more than a calling card.
Step 6: Retire to some unknown, beautiful backwater world and let the next generation pick up where we left off.
Steps one through three had gone perfectly. True there had been a few bumps along the way with the only major set back being the loss of Youngkrull, well that and being hounded by the Keepers. But for the most part some important friends had been made and some powerful ships and tech acquired.
Steps four and five had been for the most part disastrous. True the Keepers for the most part had been dealt with, but there were at least six of them somewhere out there. That was six too many. And as for keeping everyone in the dark about what was going on? Ha what a laugh. First Andrew, then Vince, Shiromy and their people, next David Rain, And now due to the fact that somewhere records weren't erased not only has another dark secret gotten out, but now the Empire and The Republic have gotten involved. Having those two running around chasing wild rumors was one thing, having them knowing even a fraction of what we could do was another.
And step six the end goal. That had been so shot to crap as to be unrecognizable at this point. With Ferris off in training still in the heart of the old Rakata Empire, the new baby due within a few months, their name to be cleared with the now PSA,Training Kyaara,And now this current situation, They'd be lucky enough to survive long enough to retire.

The opening of her cabin door brought Roscha out of her thoughts. She looked up to see A tired Mako set himself on the edge of their bed and for the first time ever he actually looked old. It wasn't his physical age by any means. Though Mako was pushing his sixties, A mere babe by Elvaar standards, But definitely in his later years for a human. His whited out eyes had once been a marvelous blue and smooth. Now there were deeply etched crows feet. And his once raven black hair now had wings of white at his temples. But it wasn't the physical changes that had caught her attention, no it was the way he carried himself. Sure Mako still had that self confident swagger, but now it wasn't as surefire as she'd always known it to be. During his sparring sessions with Kyaara he moved just a split second slower that he should. And as she looked at him while he gazed back, there it was the most telling of all the signs, the tired look in his eyes. No matter how hard he tried to hide it from her.
"What's the worried look for hun?"
Roscha sniffed and put on her usual air of confidence "I have no idea as to what you're talking about."
Mako gave her a stern look. "Really? And here I thought you'd be the type to remember that rather special psychic bond we share."
"Well if you must know," Roscha huffed, " I'm worried that your son with his constant kicking is going to bruise something vital or that if he doesn't stop kicking I'm going to strangle him. Then there's your constant toying with Kyaara during you sparring sessions. Keep it up and she will give you a much deserved thumping that I'm worried that I won't stop laughing about and will end up going into premature labor. Other than that I'm not worried at all."
Mako smirked at that. "Really that's all? Not the whole surfacing of a new cult that's bent on destroying the galaxy. Or the fact that the is a fleet on the loose that's damn near indestructible. Not to mention the fact that we have to start all over with a brand new baby."
As Mako counted off each thing Roscha's shoulders lumped slightly. "When will we ever be done? It seems as if every time something goes wrong, it's either Us or Vince and Shiromy that come to save the day."
"There's David Rain as well." Mako added.
"David and his Empire of the Wolf as well as the Corellian Empire are both isolationists. If it doesn't cross their boarder then they can't be bothered."
Mako sighed nodding his head. "That is true, but on the bright side that means less people envolved in our entanglements."
"That's not the point."
"I know dear, I Know," There was a twinge of anger in Mako's voice as he spoke. "The original plan has been blown. I let Vince and his people in because I knew the task we had set for ourselves was too big to handle alone, Not to mention Vince has a big enough personality to keep prying eyes off of us and focused on him. David more or less got involved because he happened to be going after the Keepers the same as us. The few contacts I had within the Republic were also there to help keep us out of the spotlight so we could get further than we are before anyone was the wiser and to keep tabs on the Jedi."
"The Jedi," Roscha humphed, "That is definitely one group we don't need in our affairs."
"And yet dear we have those in our group who have left the order for the same reasons that Rygetto did."
"Yes that's true, but they joined us." Roscha agreed
"And that's half of what pisses me off. The plan, Our plan going to crap is of no real big concern. Plans fail all the time especially mine. It's the ability to come up with a backup even on the fly that helps us to make it to the end goal. So the plan going to crap? So what, big deal. What burns the most is that the one group who was supposed to be doing all of the crisis control and learning from their past mistakes to ensure the Rygettos of the galaxy didn't come to be in the first place, had once again dropped the ball.
True We were the ones to go out and make sure no one disturbed the resting places of the powerful and dangerous artifacts that were left behind. But it was a job we shouldn't have had to do. The Jedi should have already beaten us to the point. But once again they've grown complacent. Before leaving the order none of the Jedi that joined us even knew a smidge of the things that were out there."

"The Jedi do preach that some knowledge is best left unknown. But to Skywalker's credit there was a lot of knowledge lost during Palpatine's rule." Roscha interjected.

"Please you and I both know that those points are Bantha turds. If the information was lost all Skywalker had to do was get up off his rear and find it. If he'd traveled far enough and searched hard enough, he'd have found all that we have and possibly even more. And he'd know that to know something doesn't make the knowledge itself dark it's what you do with it that makes the difference. So I know how to drain the life force of an entire planet into a focusing crystal that could produce a laser that would make the Death Star's main weapon look like a peashooter, how to create another ten Star Forges, create wounds in the Force that make Malachor look like a pinprick, Oh and immortality? I've got that one down pat without the use of clones. All this knowledge of both creation and destruction and yet I'm no more evil nor benevolent as the next man."
Roscha let a slight smile cross her lips "I can think of a few people who find you to be very benevolent."
"Thanks dear, but the fact of the matter still remains, The Jedi have failed at their duties. They've been failing for centuries and we've been the ones to pick up the slack. Before it was from the shadows but now we've been cast into the light, With the very ones who allowed these events to take place with their inactivity, looking at us like a threat."

Roscha had listened and followed Mako's train of thought to it's inevitable end. "You plan to replace the Jedi."

And then there it was, that smile that made the universe brighter and let Roscha know that no matter how bad things got he would make it all right. "No dear We've already replaced the Jedi. It's just that now like Vince said the spotlights on us. So we're going to give them one hell of a show. Starting with Wayland."
Power without perception is worthless and of no use.
Current WIP The Lost Fleet everything else is on hold.

User avatar
General_Trageton

Fleet Admiral (Administrator)
Posts: 11743
Joined: Fri Apr 27, 2001 11:01 pm
Contact:

Post by General_Trageton » Sat Jul 21, 2012 6:06 pm

As the Corsair emerged from hyperspace about five hours after its departure, the uncontrolled and aimless anger that had been plaguing Vince was gone, or rather transformed and directed. They had retreated into a spacious room within the ship's living quarters, where Shiromy had made him retell the ambush on his life and the confrontation with Rygetto numerous times and in great detail and had thus forced him to relive the traumatizing events again and again. Despite his usually impenetrable shell of calmness and calculus she had sought out the weak spots in his mental armor and carefully placed the needles where they hurt the most. It was unusual to see Vince so full of emotion - anger, pain, desperation. His entire body had been trembling under the mental torment, wet all over with sweat and tears, and it pained her just as much to have to put him through this, but after some iterations changes had begun to show. Vince had started to develop a certain distance and indifference to the events and by that had regained control over them. This had been one of the things Shiromy herself had learned under Revan's guidance during her early studies on Dromund Kaas: In order to gain control over the darkside one had to overcome one's own constraints and gain the undisputed authority over the events that unfolded around oneself. With each retelling and reliving of the events, Vince had come more and more to see them for what they were without compunction or guilt, in the end it would seem as if he had directed them rather than being forced to live through them.
Vince's change had also come as a revelation to herself. She could still remember herself after the destruction of the moon, feeling just as lost as he did. Revan's words echoing in her head ever since hadn't made things easier. At some point during the aftermath, if Vince had demanded of her to return to the Jedi, she would have. Already though, it had occurred to her that he needed her more than they did. Like so many times before his calmness during the aftermath, his way of joking during the communication with Mako - that all was but a facade - A wall of durasteel and a veil of silver concealing whatever boiled beneath. Now, however, these walls had been breached and the silver curtain had been torn down. Her view of him was clear and undistorted. Vince wouldn't send her back to the Jedi - not now and never agein. Their place was with each other and their destinies lay not with the Jedi. The Jedi's failure had in the end provided the slight notch that would now tip the scales and - in time - would once again shift the balance of power in the galaxy. It wasn't about vengeance like the old Sith had claimed, but granting the galaxy the sort of guidance and protection it deserved. Not by a bunch of pacifistic monks but by elevated beings gifted with the strength and wisdom to lead and the resolve to do what is necessary. But such a change could not come over night. A process like this would take time and great care and it would require the oversight by one who could forge this plan through to its completion, one who wasn't constrained by the limits of mortality. Revan had been right: With time and guidance Vince could become this one.

Before them now, the sight of a barren world came into view. it's rugged surface was scarred and blackened, sprinkled with dots of red and yellow, where the crust had been breached or everlasting fires were burning, feeding on the acrid gasses within the atmosphere. A groan of muffled disgust left Vince's mouth, while he gazed at this hellish world, as if it were the butchered corpse of some sort of lifeform.
"Etharin" Shiromy explained. "The planet is both dead and alive. Toxic atmosphere over barren and scorched lands where no life exists, but at the same time the planet itself is in constant change due to its geothermal activity." She grinned over to Vince and added. "It will suit our needs perfectly."
"Sounds thrilling!" Vince muttered with obvious disapproval and reluctantly set course for the surface. "Why don't we ever go anyhwere nice?"
"Like what?" Shiromy questioned. "Tropical beaches, shallow lagoons with turquoise water, basking in the sun and sipping cocktails? You'll go crazy within an hour."
"How about a tropical island with an active volcano" Vince suggested wryly. "Perfect place to set up a secret lair. You could have your smoldering lava caverns in the basement and I could enjoy the beach."
"Hmm" Shiromy made and threw him a wicked smirk. "Knowing you, you have already thought this through and made designs for something like that!"
"I still have to figure out how to make the lava thing work, but apart from that..." He rocked his head from one side to the other and threw her a conspiratory grin.
"I'm sure you'll think of -" She fell silent, when she suddenly felt something, a premonition of sorts, tingling in her head. A notion from the Force ... warning her. Her eyes flung wide open. "Break left!" She exclaimed. On impulse she drew on the Force to push the steering yoke to the side ant sent the Corsair spiralling wildly out of its path. Only a second later proximity klaxons blared and the sensor screen flashed brightly with warnings showing that something had just reverted from hyperspace - right where they had been a second earlier. Scowling in annoyance Vince got ahold of the out-of-control yoke and brought the ship back onto a course. Before them Shiromy discovered a ship, not bigger than a shuttle, blazing towards the planet's surface, its thrusters leaving a thin trail of smoke and sparks. Wordlessly Vince adjusted the Corsair's course and went into pursuit of the descending shuttle.
And then Shiromy sensed it, a mere flicker in the force; a presence aboard the ship, faint and only for a split-second, yet enough for her to be certain beyond doubt. How had she found them? And so soon?
Not turning her head she threw Vince a sideways glance. Something in him had changed, an awkward serenity had befallen him, as he followed the shuttle's course with unnatural precision. Had she been in a tutor's role until mere seconds before, she once again found herself seemingly out of the loop, missing an important detail to comprehend the situation. Was Revan controlling him again?
"Vince" She said in a questioning tone. It took him a moment to register her addressing him, then he turned to face her, his face looked as if it were made of stone. The entire situation suddenly felt strongly resemblant to when Vince had left her in the meditation chamber to confront Rygetto. But unlike before Shiromy was no longer that unsure little princess, trying to prevent him from tapping down a path she didn't fully comprehend herself yet. The events on the Codian Moon had revealed to her a lot about the Force and herself. Dispite its anticlimactic nature the escalation had been an illuminating experience. Now, as she spoke her voice was low and soft but resolute. "I believe I deserve an explaination, don't you think?" It wasn't anger that began to rise in her, but something different. Resolve, determination. "You knew who that sprit was, didn't you?" Vince remained silent but nodded in admittance. "And you knew she was still alive and would follow us."
"I didn't know" Vince said earnestly. "But I assumed it."
Shiromy forced an exhale. She was now beginning to see the true picture that Revan's implications and the events that preceeded them had created. "When did you realize it was her?"
Vince remained silent, holding her piercing gaze for a moment, mixed feelings raging inside him. Then, reluctantly he said. "Shortly after I awoke on the Mirage, after the ambush. Everything that Rygetto had orchestrated was meant to wear me down, to seed frustration and anger and make it easier for him to turn me. It might even have worked if Revan hadn't kept me in line and reminded me of my objective."
"That's another way to put it." Shiromy commented dryly. "The word 'insane' occurred to me from time to time."
"Well, the events did leave their mark on me" Vince admitted then threw her a probing gaze. "like they did on you."
"I take it then that all this talk about you being expelled from your body and about me letting go of the darkside was just part of your 'distraction'."
Vince now chose his words carefully. "It was a test, if you could control the darkness within you rather than being controlled by it." Shiromy's lips curled in anger. Not towards Vince, but Revan, who had continued to doubt her even after her demonstration of will. But she wouldn't let it get the better of her, not this time. She had defeated Revan, she had maintained control over herself and had discovered a power unlike anything else. Everything that had happened, had further empowered her. She had risen above this.
She tilted her head in mock challenge. "Well, what do you think?"
"I think we both know that's out of question now" Vince stated soberly. "Despite what I said and did, part of me knew the darkside would always remain a part of you. And I made my peace with that." He made a pause, then added. "After Valmont, after the Codian Moon, the choice was up to me. When Revan and I split up again, I was torn, not truly knowing where I belong. Revan is relentless and uncompromising - but these traits make her damned effective and efficient, which I find admirable. Through time we came to agree on a lot of general ideas." Their course had brought them onto a relatively solid and stable area of the planet, where Vince brought them down with the two ships facing each other. Shiromy then recognized the ship as the shuttle that had brought Vince and his infiltration team to the moon. How Revan had managed to take that ship this far was beyond her. It's hull had been blackened and deformed, engines were obviously damaged and cracks stained the tinted windows. "Thanks to you" Vince eventually continued and rose from his seat. "I now have a clear picture of where I'm standing and where my destiny lies. You showed me that the way of the darkside is not about doing evil things for the sake of it, but to pursue one's goals with strength and the resolve to do whatever is necessary. This is what I do and this is where I belong."
As he came closer Shiromy could suddenly sense the darkside in him, too. It was intense but greatly different from her own fiery presence, also greatly differed from the way he had appeared to her in the temple. Vince's true aura was like a distant thunderstorm - brewing, hinting at his true power without revealing it. Vince had always been disturbingly quick to learn and adapt. Had Revan been tutoring him already? And to which extent? He had also always been enigmatic, keeping his many secrets save and hidden under a thick layer of profanity. And even up until now it seemed as though she herself had let him deceive her, had let herself be blinded by his seeming innocence, whereas she should have known better. Because lastly, Vince had always had a dark streak. Ever since she'd known him, ever since he had arrived on Bricera as one of Vito Corlini's agents, a shadow which diverged into meaninglessness and implicitness like a mere facette on a flawless gem, invisible to those who didn't know where to look - and to many who actually did. She began to shake and felt her heart punding frantically. Everything that had happened so far, had merely been a step on a long road leading to this point, a path that had been predictated long ago. Things had come to this because they'd been meant to, and the way they had, was the only way they could have. Whether by intention or unknowing, Vince had directed the events that had led to this point.
"Damn you, Vince!" She whispered and flung her arms around him, as a wave of emotion washed over her. "If this is to work we need to fully trust each other. There can be no more secrets between us."
"OK, promise" He said softly. "Come on, let's not keep Revan waiting."

////////////////

A sharp wind howled over the ashen plain, occassionally interferred with the distant rumbling of violent eruptions. The air was hot and dry, carrying the stench of smoke and sulfur. The air was thick, saturated with ash and acerbic gasses, lethal to most other beings, who weren't trained to withstand these conditions, beings who were unable to overcome those limits, which they believed to have been burdened with by their physical form. Educated beliefs that stood on shaky ground. If looking only through the eyes of the Force, of course there were differences, depending on how attuned the individual was. From A Cha'Lynh point however Force attunement was irrelevant. It was a mere matter of finding, identifying and then exploiting one's soul element to breach the physical limits. Therefore, long before Shiromy had tapped into the realm of the Force, long before she had set foot on the path of the Sith, she had felt at home on hostile worlds like this one. As for Vince, well, Etharin was definitely not his kind of place. But eventhough he didn't approve of these hostile conditions, he, like any other Cha'Lynh master, was trained to resist them. And in similar fashion, while he was still at the very beginning of any kind of Force training, he had already mastered many aspects that were related to it in one way or the other. An intriguing initial position to start from.
Now, as the two exited the Corsair they found Revan already waiting for them. Shiromy who had already been wondering, which hapless victim the elder Sith spirit would inhabit, was quite surprised to find the familiar sight of Taya Berin, sitting on the barren ground as it were a meditating pillow, legs crossed, hands resting on her lap. Vince had told Shiromy how he had electricuted the treacherous woman, after learning that she had betrayed and assaulted him, then later had used her body as platform to infiltrate the Brotherhood temple. He hadn't made mention of what had happend to her afterwards, likely not knowing or caring himself.
"Such a lovely couple." the fair-haired woman said and stood up from the ground. "A blazing Phoenix - the proud embodyment of fire and passion - and a raging storm, the very essence of power, cold and deadly. You two are as contrary to each other as day and night and yet you belong together like two sides of the same coin. I understand the Jedi no longer sanction personal relationships among Force users, so you should consider yorselves lucky."
"I was wondering if you'd remember my token." Vince said, indifferent to her Revan's teasing.
"It was hard to overlook after you discarded it so obviously.” Revan replied neutraly and pretended to muster her new form. Then she spread her hands in a fashion as if to open up a debate. "I assume you have talked things through by now? All questions answered?" Just recently shot through Shiromy's head but she stowed that remark. Instead they both nodded silently. "Good. Have you decided then?" Nods again. Pragmatic satisfaction gleamed in the Sith Lady's eyes.
"Shiromy Gitann, step forth!" Revan now addressed her directly and Shiromy did as she was commanded. "You have once claimed the title of Dark Lady of the Sith, but cast it off again." Her voice grew dark and sharp. "The Sith are no VIP club to simply join and quit just as you please. Had this act of treason been conducted by anyone else it would have been a crime worth death." Dreadful words, but they didn't move Shiromy the slightest. She had no regret about what she had done; moreso, as it by itself had been an act of emancipation and a display of power and resolve.
"Do what you must!" Shiromy said with simple but uncompromising resolve. Her eyes pierced Revan's, challenging her former master. moments passed as the two stared each other down, probing for a flinch, any sign of weakness. Eventually though Revan just nodded in acknowledgement.
"Seeing how I failed in killing you during our last encounter I believe it's the will of the Force that you're given this second chance." Revan's gaze jumped over to Vince. "Not to mention that your 'escapade' has turned out quite beneficial to our cause. So" Her gaze returned to rest on Shiromy again. "Now that you have returned to me; do you wish to reclaim your title and rightful place? Do you wish to rejoin the Order of the Sith Lords, now and forever?"
Shiromy took a deep breath. She was part of it now, had been since Dromund Kaas. There was no turning back now. She had started this journey and now it was time to take the next step. There could be no blind stumbling, but striding forward, boldly and confident. There was no more doubt, now that she knew what had to be done. Revan was right: with power came purpose. Those who were born with this gift also carried the obligation to put it to use, mindfully but with a goal. For a brief moment she wondered if the Jedi could have averted what was to come by taking a more active role. But it didn't matter now. They'd had their chance and failed. And so, at the apex of consciousness she let the Force consume her and got down onto her knees, offering herself to the darkside. "I do." Revan smiled in a way that was at the same time friendly and welcoming while conveying the darkness and graveness of an elder Sith Lord.
"Then rise, Darth Pyra! And welcome back!" Following the inviting gesture Pyra rose to her feet. The two women offered each other a sincere bow. Then Revan placed a hand on her shoulder. As through the touch Darth Pyra felt as if the darkside manifested itself within her. There was no more doubt, only purpose; an universal goal that rendered everything else meaningless. Now it was her turn to chose and proclaim an apprentice. Slowly Pyra turned to face her husband. The air was crackling with power as the two auras merged. With all that he had learned as a Cha'Lynh, Vince's power was already immense and his connection to the Force was strong. For the next step he would now have to be reshaped and reimagined. Pyra knew that with proper training he could be transformed into a force of incomprehensible power, a being worthy of the title Dark Lord of the Sith. Now, as she locked eyes with him, his gaze reflected the same resolve and commitment that she felt herself. He, too, wanted this. When she spoke her voice became celebrant, and her eyes once more lit up in their fiery blaze. "You have mastered the arts of war and deception. You have learned to command the energies of mind and matter and have overcome death itself. You have yet to master the Force and its deepest, darkest secrets. It is a treacherous and uncharted path but the reward it yields is beyond comprehension. Is it your will to walk this path with me? Do you wish to recreate yourself as a dark master of the Force? Then kneel now and pledge that it is your wish to join your destiny with the Order of the Sith Lords!"
"You always had a thing for drama." Vince said with a wicked smirk. There it was again, the small edge he always kept for himself and which made him both madenning and desirable to her. Then, however, his face turned serious and he genuflected before her. "It is my will to join my destiny with the Order of the Sith Lords." And so the deal was struck - the truce that would bind them together in the Force.
"So be it." Darth Pyra concluded and placed a hand onto the crown of his head. "From this moment on, now and forevermore, you shall be" inhaling deeply she let the Force form the words as she called out. "Darth Ceptus."
The name left her mouth like a firework. And it was as though the Force itself was celebrating the birth of a new generation of Sith Lords, the avatars of true power and the last hope for this decaying galaxy to rise from its plunge into chaos.
Darth Ceptus rose and bowed. The transformation was complete.
Your ship, Captain. I need a drink. - Vince Trageton
Vince T's Design HQ | Vince T's X-Wing HQ | My Steam Workshop

Post Reply