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Post by Whill Shaman Xixo on Feb 27, 2013 16:33:20 GMT -8
*Concord Dawn's terrain was frontier country, covered in jungles, forests, deserts and plains.*
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Mira Yim
The Jedi Order - Ossus Jedi Conclave
"I can fix this."
Posts: 118
Affiliation: Handmaidens of Yun-Ne'Shel
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Post by Mira Yim on Jul 26, 2013 11:50:48 GMT -8
There was a knock at the door.
"Five minutes, Brunner."
Stang. He'd overslept. Typical given his luck as of late. After returning from the academy in shame his family was already sending him off, hoping the media attention his incident drew would be forgotten about just as soon as he was. Scrambling out of bed, Brunner grabbed was few belongings he had, stuffing them into a duffel bag. He slid on his uniform, fastening the front lapel buttons and attaching the captain's pin to the front fold. He took a moment to look himself over in the mirror. Altogether not bad, though he could use a shave. Well, personal grooming could wait until he was space bound.
Taking one last look at his room, Brunner scowled and stepped out the door, following his attendant down to the family landing pad. Once there he boarded the planet-to-space shuttle and stored his bag before finding a seat at the rear of the ship. The vibration of the engines sent tingles up his spine. "Blast you, Mandy Roche", he quietly cursed. The ship took off and sped towards orbit where the Glenny Jones, and his future by connection, awaited.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 3, 2015 17:29:10 GMT -8
You're really going to go through with this, aren't you?
Farine ignored Lena as she shoved another pair of pants into her pack resting on her bed. She already packed her tools, a few compact technical manuals, handful of tunics, an extra pair of boots, underclothes, toiletries, her set of throwing daggers, extra creds, holopad, several clips for her blaster and her favorite book.Lena continued to glare at her from her perch at the top of the bed. Are you listening, Farine?
Farine didn't stop what she was doing, nor did she look her friend's way as she continued to briskly pack. I hear you.
And?
....and, I'm still going.
Lena snorted.One woman with a band of criminals. All outsider men no less. They're going to get ideas in their head, you know. It's not safe, Far. You've never even been off Concord Dawn before.
Farine was sealing her bag. There's always a first time for everything. I'm a full grown woman and can take care of myself.
Lena arched an eyebrow. If you're doing this to get Don V'hett's attention, I don't think this is going to make a difference. He's a womanizer, Far...love is not in his vocabulary. He'll never settle down.
Farine stubbornly refused to acknowledge her friend's words. For indeed, Farine was doing this in attempt to land Don. He would always see her as a girl as long as she remained on her parents' farm on Concord Dawn. She had to prove to him that she was no longer the child he watched grow up. She had loved Don ever since she was small. As she aged, it grew from the love of a child into the love of a woman. She had always loved him, always would love him. Maybe he was a womanizer...but that just meant he hadn't found someone to fall in love with yet. That meant she still had a chance.
She would never forgot that night nearly a year ago. He was visiting his parents who farmed the adjoining land. Before his arrival Farine's father, Harbin, asked her if she wouldn't mind being set up with Don while he was here. His parents, Don and Kahlia V'hett, were at their wits end with their son. Farine jumped at the chance. Everything seemed to go well that evening. The spacer was even more handsome and charming than she remembered. The age difference seemed nonexistent in her eyes. It wasn't until they reached her doorstep afterwards that things took a turn for the worse.
"You deserve a good man." he said. "I'll never be faithful to you." he said. He punctuated his points by roughly restraining her and getting in her face to get her attention when she refused to listen to him. She never felt so hopeless as she did when she watched him leave that night. Since then she couldn't stop thinking about how to grab his attention, make him realize she wasn't little anymore, that she was a woman he could fall in love with. That would never happen so long as she remained on Concord Dawn.
Maybe...maybe not. Easy to say when you already have the man you want. Farine shot her a pointed looked as she set to adorning her armor. Either way, I need to leave...there's nothing for me to do here but farm, marry and make babies. I want to see the universe. I want to do something with my life.
Lena narrowed her eyes in exasperation. And what makes you think this is the way to go about it?
Farine shrugged. Your brother seems to be doing well...he makes good money and says it's a lot of fun.
He's an idiot, too many blows to the head. He thinks just because he loves it, everyone else will love it too.
Lena's brother visited a few months prior while on leave. He liberally told the tales of his adventures. Farine didn't hesitate to approach him about wanting an opportunity like that for herself. He secured her a position as a mechanic on a smuggler ship within a month, promising he'd keep it quiet so her family wouldn't have the chance to intervene. Farine would go to Lena's house and Joss would take her out into the town to meet up with the crew. No one would know the wiser until the ship was long gone.
Farine was finished with her armor, leaving her helm off as she shouldered her pack and secured her blaster. He could be right. I'll never know until I go find out for myself. She glanced up at Lena. I'm ready.
The women said their farewells to Farine's family before jumping into Lena's speeder and flying off to her own farm. Farine didn't look back.
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Jeku
Member
Posts: 32
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Post by Jeku on Jun 3, 2015 22:11:13 GMT -8
Concord Dawn's forest terrain . . .
A forgotten lightsaber hilt without it's wielder becomes an object without purpose unless it is rediscovered. It then becomes a tool to build or a weapon to destroy. The surrounding forest of Concord Dawn was large enough to lose yourself in without proper guidance. Anyone sensitive to the force could sense the dark presence wandering deep within the forest, Jeku's knowledge of the force was limited equally to that of a Jedi Padawan. Even though he understood how to channel it, he gave up trying to master it. His ways were untamed without guidance and sometimes...destructive.
A hand of bones still grasped onto the hilt. Many years have passed since this Jedi fell, even the roots of the tree grew over the skeleton. Between these roots of the tree his hand hung out still holding the weapon. The wind picked up creating an eerie whistle threw the trees as Jeku raised his hand out from his ragged robe, he closed his eyes and channeled the force to the best of his limited abilities. It wasn't rare for the Master and a pupil to share a special bond in the force early on...they become connected on a spiritual level. This hilt he was searching for was the only object on this planet his master owned, and on a level this object was the last thing he could sense that connected him to his master. Though Jeku's methods would usually be looked down upon, because as soon as he felt it he channeled the force. The blade ignited in a flurry of flames as the tree it was beneath caught fire.
His feet were scarred and dirty travelling without any boots threw the harsh forest. He felt the mud squish between his toes as he stopped before the tree ablaze that formed a dark smog arising into the sky. Over time, his hair had grown wildly long since his arrival here two years ago, from his left eye all the way down to the right side of his chin Jeku had two scars which were aligned with each other after having a nasty brush with some wild animal a while back. He could see the ignited green saber melting the wood around its laser, watching as the fire crawled up along the tree. The Jedi trained force sensitives at such a young age so they could learn to discipline themselves with the provided knowledge. Sith at least have their codes.
He looked at his old masters bones and thought nothing of it, nor did he make his peace or have some sort of moment of silence. For two years he's been in silence that the Jedi brought upon him and all he was left with for his Jedi training was the faulty training saber his master specifically chose from the selection of weapons. He relied on spears and traps to survive, though he was on a planet with other people, where he is was the most secluded, the furthest away from civilization anyone could probably be on foot. His journey was something to be prepared for if he was going to make it back. They told him to trust in the force but there was no guidance for him, nor a guiding spirit of his master that may or may not of become one with the force.
The hilt rattled before he got a full grasp of it with the force, even the tree branch around it cracked, his masters bones broke in several pieces. His hand straighted and the weapon flung out from beneath the tree and into the grasp of his hand, he took the sound as a comfort while he traced the fingers of his left hand down along the hilt while the green saber remained ignited. Jeku pressed the ignition and the green laser vanished. I am ready.
He spoke to himself, still holding the hilt out up before himself. Shortly after he wandered away from this place to journey back to his small paradise he calls home, use to call home until now of course. The real journey would be a long road ahead, but one he was ready for nonetheless.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 6, 2015 15:54:02 GMT -8
The Renegade's engines hummed as it and its current occupants pressed toward the surface below, the world's atmosphere casting a bright orange glow over her [the Renegade] only dissipating when she finally exited the ozone layer. There she was, now. Concord Dawn is all her splendor and glory. Rectangular grids scarring her surface where the many fields and farms claimed their respective land.
Geir titled his head again toward the Astromech droid designated "Bucket" currently positioned to his right. "Well, Bucket . . ." He paused. Was this really it? Some primitive looking farms. A few buildings heavily resembling barns and simple homes. The bright and shining colors of the Mandalorian beskar'gam a token to the hands the presently worked their respective farms. A simple and quaint life. A living made humbly and well earned, but not nearly exciting enough for the man piloting the ship currently. No. Ever since he departed his home back on Morellia all those years ago, he'd not looked back. In fact, he'd only ever returned there twice; once for each of his parent's funerals. The place held no homely feeling for him. Especially not anymore since his parents' departures from this universe.
He had no home now. Always on the move, the closest thing to a home he had was his ship, the Renegade and man was she a beaut in his eye. A class-2 hyperdrive with a class-10 for a backup. Two medium laser cannons in support of a defense should one ever be needed. Six cargo bays. Not sure if you caught that or not, but "SIX!" cargo bays. Just think of all the freight that could be moved at once and all the credits one could earn in just a single shipment. Geir grinned just thinking about it.A beauty and efficient. What more could a freight hauler and a smuggler ask for? "Here she blows," Geir continued, "Farms and warrior farmers as far as the eye can see." He let out a hardy laugh as he angled the Renegade toward a vacant pad to his west. The movement was fluid and smooth, achieved as though the man carried an expert's hand. Well, with the years upon years of experience he had handling various transports, I guess it should come as no surprise.
The pad was less than a kilometer away now and just to his northwest. The YX-1980 space transport angled its nose upward and it speed quickly fell to a steady crawl. The hissing of pistons resounded as landing gears extended just prior to the Renegade setting down ever so softly. "Guess it's time we meet this farmer mechanic, ain't it, Bucket?" The R-series Astromech droid answered with a series of beeps and whistles resembling some kind form of an agree.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 6, 2015 16:48:53 GMT -8
Farine spent almost a week at Lena's house with her and her husband before Joss arrived to take Far into the small city. He would drop her off at the modest space port and assure she boarded safely before heading out with his own crew. The closer the day came, the more nervous Farine had become. She nearly backed out at the last moment. Maybe Lena was right...going off with a bunch of aruetii men, all who probably were criminals. Becoming involved in shady activities. Perhaps she was jumping into the fray a bit too quickly. Joss flashed his million credit smile at her as she threw her bag into his speeder. Far smiled back, squaring her slender shoulders and willing herself to trudge ahead.
She couldn't back out now, she'd already been hired. It would be an embarrassment to refuse at the last moment. It would especially make Joss look bad and might effect his business. After all...if she didn't like it, she didn't have to stay, did she? She knew how to defend herself, and she didn't have to mingle with the crew if she didn't want. Her Basic was barely conversational anyway, they wouldn't want to bother with her too much.
The speeder ride into town seemed to go by far too quickly. Before she knew it, they were parked outside the spaceport and Joss was kissing Ginny - his wife - goodbye. He flashed his grin at Far again as she hauled her pack on her back. It was nearly as big as she was.
Tsikala Far? <Ready Far?>
Farine smiled as confidently as she could, trying to hide her anxiety. 'lek!
He led her through the spaceport, arriving within minutes to the docking bay where a hulk of a ship rested. Far stared up at it in appreciation. YX-1980 transport, the "Renegade", just as Joss had said. She let her pack slide off her shoulders as she pulled back her curly hair in a pony tail, still studying the ship. The Renegade certainly was beautiful, obviously had a lot of new work done to it. That put Far at ease a bit. At least she wouldn't be working with crap. There was only so much she could do if the ship was osik. Still, it was big enough to where she would keep busy with work and not have to worry about too much crew interaction, at least not until she felt more comfortable. This thought put her at ease.
Farine glanced expectantly at Joss. He smiled at her. Dinuir bic kih'nara. . . alor'ad kelir haa'taylir mhi bal olaror dayn at ve'ganir gar. <Give it a minute...the captain will see us and come out to get you.>
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 7, 2015 12:51:52 GMT -8
Pistons hissed and steam jetted outward from the ship as the loading ramp descended leisurely to the cold, stone floor of the spaceport revealing a well lit, lightly colored interior to the Renegade. There was a thin rubber-like coating on the walkway of the ramp, obviously a customization of some kind or another which would allow for the proper handling of any electrostatic discharge sensitive cargo, but also served to lesson the thud and echo of a hard shoe sole against a metallic surface.
Before long, the captain of the vessel, Geir Hammand, and the astromech droid, Bucket appeared at the top of the ramp. Geir was dressed in a black, button down top with top couple of buttons unfastened, and dark colored pants. He wore black, hard leather boots with a steel toe as well. Tucked into the back side of his pants at his lower back, a 0.48 Caliber Enforcer Pistol was housed with the handle facing toward his right and tucked into the outside of his right boot, a small phrik survival knife was carried. These two items were all he ever carried on him for self defense measures and was all he'd ever really needed - and they only ever come into play when it was something that could not be solved by either his silver tongue or his fists. All in all, his appearance would not be intimidating to many, much less a battle hardened, warrior farmer. He ran a hand across the scruff that formed a thin coat across his jaw line and then proceeded down the ramp to where Joss stood with a small, slender girl.
Her long, curly hair had been pulled back and she carried an awkward-looking bag. This must have been Farine; the mechanic that Joss had told him about. She didn't look like much to him, but he trusted Joss as a man of his word. She had an innocence about her, and maybe a little bit of fear or anxiety about leaving her home. That's sensible. This was going to be her first time leaving her home and that was a big step; Geir knew this. Even with all the thrill and excitement that she could have possibly expected to await, there would always that little voice challenging your every decision. It was likely there for her, now, and it would likely be there for sometime to come. It was part of what the humans called "being human," but it wasn't limited to just them. Any species could feel it; the only thing that would separate them is how they would deal with it.
For Geir all those years ago, it had been just the longing to get away. The desire for him to make a name for himself out there in the grand verse. The lust for a life of excitement and riches heavily outweighing the greater moral side of himself. That had been just what he'd done and he'd not looked back since.
His blue-green eyes fell upon the two of them and he spoke in the broken Mando'a he knew. "Su cuy'gar Joss. Farine." He paused for a moment, thinking hard and trying to wrap his mind on how to say what he wanted to say and what the words to use in Mando'a were for it. "Joss jorhaa'ir jate be gar. Jate kayilyr gar cuyir kaysh sirbur."1
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 7, 2015 14:09:49 GMT -8
A smile broke out upon Joss' face as Geir stepped down the gangplank. He nudged Farine, his armored elbow hitting her armored shoulder since she was so much shorter than he. There's the captain...speak Basic, you need practice.
Farine barely had a chance to glance at the captain before Joss spoke to her. Her brow wrinkled slightly as she tried to make sense of his words, thankfully only taking a few moments to decipher what he meant. She supposed it was because he spoke slowly and used simple words. She nodded, fear pitting in her gut at the prospect of having to speak the language and looking foolish. 'lek...okay.
She turned back to the captain, eying him warily. The outsider didn't look too tough...in fact, compared to what she was used to, he was down right cuddly. She didn't solidify that assumption, however...looks could be deceiving. Although he did look young, as young or even younger than Joss. The fact that he had his own ship of this caliber and actually had use of it was impressive. The fact that Joss vouched for him even more so. Far bit her lower lip as Geir and the astromech droid approached, the droid soliciting a small smile out of her. She really loved astromechs.
Her eyes widened at Geir's mando'a.He spoke their language! It was a little rough and the accent was a bit off, but still...she felt at a bit at ease knowing that at least one person might be able to communicate with her.Joss smiled at Geir, stepping forward and holding out his hand for a shake. Geir! It's been too long. His Basic wasn't as thickly accented as most of his kin. Joss turned slightly to smile back at Farine, motioning for her to come forward with his free hand. As you've already deducted, this is Farine, your new mechanic...she'll serve you well.
Farine was having a difficult time keeping up with what Joss was saying, the words spilled out so quickly. She was able to pick up enough words to get the jist of what her friend's brother was saying. She stepped forward as Joss motioned to her, feeling a bit awkward as she tried to put a sentence together. Hello captain...is nice to see you. Her words came out haltingly, her accent thick and sultry, but not enough to where one wouldn't be able to understand her.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 11, 2015 15:24:20 GMT -8
A warm and exuberant grin melded across Geir's face as he looked upon his old friend, Joss. Joss had a bigger frame than he'd remembered him having . . . possibly put on a few pounds. Or maybe he was just storing up fatty reserves for a winter hibernation? He restrained the outburst of laughter behind his own witty joke that ran through his head. His right arm extended to complete the link and shake Joss' hand as had been offered. "Indeed it has," he agreed, still shaking the Mandalorian's arm and hand. "Is it just me, or have you let yourself go a bit since we last saw each other?" He laughed, then turned his attention toward Farine.
The Mandalorian was clad in beskar'gam, though her buy'ce had been removed, revealing her youthful face. As she spoke to him, he imagined that's how he must have sounded when first he spoke in Mando'a upon their arrival here and mundane introductions. Searching for words at every turn, such was the struggle of trying to speak in a tongue you don't fully comprehend. Well, maybe in a sense, they could help each other out in the end.
Geir, having already withdrawn from the handshake with Joss, offered his hand out in a similar fashion to Farine, awaiting her response. "Bic jate at gi'e urcir b'ami'r ni gana susulur a ruyao yirhaou."
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 14, 2015 14:42:44 GMT -8
Farine glanced at Joss for approval before tentatively reaching out to grasp Geir's hand and mimicking the exchange between him and Joss. Her smile was a bit unsure as she answered him in Basic, knowing it would upset Joss should she responded in mando'a. Thank you...She glanced over his shoulder at the ship. I like ship. I work good for you, promise.
Joss raised an eyebrow at her. Far, gar sirbur, "I will work well for you, I promise."
Farine nodded, turning back to Geir and clearing her throat. I will...work well for you...I promise.
She wished with all her heart she could just speak mando'a to the captain, trying to translate everything into Basic was making her head spin. The sooner she could get on board and be about her work, the better. And maybe she could slip in some mando'a every now and then. It wasn't as if Joss was going to be looking over her shoulder, after all.
Joss smiled broadly, turning Geir. She's all yours.
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Jeku
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Posts: 32
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Post by Jeku on Jun 16, 2015 12:18:48 GMT -8
In the end it was strength and the will to go on that kept him alive. He sat with his legs crossed in the dirt cooking a small animal he caught with a spring trap made of twine and sticks. Repeatedly he twisted the strands of bark he collected over and over again until he was met with a strong rope, his robe was also torn all over to use the material for things that could become useful. Jeku's R4 unit lost power long ago, the droid had been pulled apart and risen to a pile of scrap. For the longest time that little droid was his only friend until the red light faded for good, though with his memory core still intact perhaps one day he'll reconstruct the droid. Jeku grabbed his knife made from a sharp piece of scrap tied to a stick, cutting the lose ends of the rope off. He rolled the long rope up, set it down before catching the scent of cooked meat carried to him as the wind whistled threw the trees and black smoke of the fire making his eyes water. Burnt to perfection he thought to himself grabbing the stick and bitting into the skinned animal. It's definitely not Bantha steak... He mumbled to himself which he often did.
Piece by piece his Jedi robe was torn until he had nothing but the hood he tied together to use as a way of carrying his belongings. He didn't need the warmth of a robe in this climate, nor did he need most of the objects he placed in the bag, just objects of sentimental value perhaps. The little things. Of course he had water collected from the rain fall, using the frame of his R4 unit as a barrel patched up to prevent it from leaking threw power ports and exposed leg frames. Everything he owned was used to the last piece of scrap to the last strand of material. Even his old training blade was useful, an exposed heated crystal ignited his fires, removing one side of the hilts frame so the heat could rise. If he were to ignite the scrap of a saber now it would probably explode in his face. Jeku got up and collected R4's memory core, his masters old Lightsaber and the rest of his items. The rope hung down across his chest from one shoulder to his right side, he threw the bag over his shoulder and left his encampment without hesitation or stopping to look back, the time to move on had come.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 16, 2015 13:20:02 GMT -8
Farine glanced at Joss for approval before tentatively reaching out to grasp Geir's hand and mimicking the exchange between him and Joss. Her smile was a bit unsure as she answered him in Basic, knowing it would upset Joss should she responded in mando'a. Thank you...She glanced over his shoulder at the ship. I like ship. I work good for you, promise.
Joss raised an eyebrow at her. Far, gar sirbur, "I will work well for you, I promise."
Farine nodded, turning back to Geir and clearing her throat. I will...work well for you...I promise.
She wished with all her heart she could just speak mando'a to the captain, trying to translate everything into Basic was making her head spin. The sooner she could get on board and be about her work, the better. And maybe she could slip in some mando'a every now and then. It wasn't as if Joss was going to be looking over her shoulder, after all.
Joss smiled broadly, turning Geir. She's all yours. "I'm happy you do," he said, speaking in a more confident and familiar basic. The smile christened once more and he waited as Farine and Joss spoke with one another shifting a glance casually from time to time as to not stare in one place for too long. His hands fell to a position in his pockets with only his fingers submerged behind the piece of fabric; his thumbs still exposed.
This pick up had gone smoother than he'd expected. Either Farine really wanted off this rock that badly or the gravity of what was fully taking place hadn't sunk in yet. Truth was, Geir didn't intend to make many homecoming trips. Hell, he hadn't really thought of what would happen if such things were deemed necessary and his concern to be over it now, he would just deal with things as they would occur in the future. "That will just be future Geir's problem; he can handle it." He turned to Joss one final time."Don't be such a stranger. You gotta keep in touch," he said, then followed with something of a jest, "And maybe hold back on some of them sweets? Yeah?"
He let out a hardy chuckle then returned his attention to Farine. "Welp! After you." He motioned with an arm signaling her that she was free to board the Renegade now.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jun 18, 2015 17:57:36 GMT -8
Joss rolled his eyes good-naturedly. Yeah yeah yeah...just take care of the girl, alright?
As the captain motioned to the ship, Farine getting the gist of what was being said, she turned to Joss one final time. Anxiety suddenly started to pit in her stomach. Goodbye.
Joss smiled as he pulled her into a hug. You are going to be ok, kid.
Farine nodded as they pulled apart. She willed herself to turn back to Geir and the ship. She offered the captain a determined nod before matching forward, willing herself to not look back. A smile tugged at the corners of her mouth as the astromech tweedled after her. She glanced up at Geir shyly. I like. She motioned to the droid. What is name?
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jul 14, 2015 17:32:46 GMT -8
The beeps, boops and whistles never seemed to stop as Bucket attempted to tell the girl his own name. He was prideful, for a droid. And self sufficient too; often times to a fault. Geir only hoped that the young Warrior Farmer turned mechanic joining his crew would only be able to understand the droid's hoots and hollers to the degree she seemed to understand basic so far. The was next to nothing at all as far as he could tell so far. "Bucket!" Geir replied confidently if not hurriedly so.
Geir was ready to rid himself of the stench of warrior farmers now. He'd had his fill and . . . sheesh, it was like they knew not what a bath or shower was. Hell, if it hadn't been for lack of a stench for the girl, he might even consider that these "Vhetts" and "Fetts" didn't even know what a refresher was.
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on Jul 14, 2015 18:05:39 GMT -8
Buc-ket? Far turned the word over in her mind. Bucket's toodles and beeps became a bit louder as he sqawked at her while they entered the ship. Far focused on the droid instead of Geir for the moment, understanding finally dawning. She laughed. Buy'ce! Her voice was slightly gleeful. Buy'ce - er, Bucket - tweedled proudly at her understanding. Far caressed the droid affectionately on his dome. Jate at urcir gar, Buy'ce! Ni cuy' Far. Far grinned as the droid cooed at her touch.
At least that was one 'person' she could talk to...Bucket beeped for her to follow him once they entered, humming happily as he rolled his way down the hall, assuming he would follow. Far's big blue eyes looked up at Geir. Go with him? At the sound of her doubt, Bucket paused to squawk insistently - but not unkindly - at her before continuing on his way.
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Myrina Ildikó
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It's not about the Size of the Mando’ad in the Fight; it's the size of the Fight in the Mando’ad.
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Post by Myrina Ildikó on Apr 27, 2016 6:14:10 GMT -8
Members of the group filed out of the bunk house, their arms and shoulders loaded with supplies and provisions required for the mission to Rishi. They were reasonably quiet; all focused in their own way on the mission that was to come. Rina hung back with Ellis who was packing up the last of the communications equipment.
R: “Why didn’t you tell me you had someone on Rishi?”
She asked as she heaved a crate onto the table. Ellis stopped but he didn’t look at her. Truth is told he was still haunted by those that had died as a result of bad intel from his last source.
E: “I don’t know. I guess … I didn’t think I’d ever need them. They’d been there a while but I’d never heard anything until now. Listen, I know I screwed up by not saying anything before, but I wanted to be sure, yaknow?”
Rina sat back against the table, her arms folded over her chest as she listened. She tried hard not to look disapproving or dismissive of his answer. She exhaled deeply and mustered an encouraging smile.
R: “I know, we’ve all been there but you need to trust that your team can handle what’s being put in front of them, if you trust in them then they can trust in you. The more you dwell on the maybes and what if’s, the more it eats you up. I’ve seen men driven to the edge by the pain that shit brings. You’re a good solider Ellis and I’ll be damned if you end up like one of them.”
She picked up the box and headed towards the door. She paused and looked back at him.
R: Now shift your ass; we’ve got work to do.
Ellis smiled, slung his heavy kit bag over his shoulder and picked up the last box. He left the bunkhouse and knocked the lights off. Outside the land cruiser waited to take them to the transporter. The two climbed aboard and it took off to where the rest of the team was waiting.
Once they arrived, the team stowed the rest of the cargo aboard and began final preparations for take-off. One the pre-flight checks were completed for satisfaction, the engines started and the vessel rose up into the sky, passing through the clouds at increasing speed. It rattled as pushed through the atmosphere and broke into the vacuum of space. With the course to Rishi plotted, the ship made the jump to hyperspace.
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Daras Fett
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Post by Daras Fett on Aug 1, 2017 1:20:33 GMT -8
Dara's Yaim'ol: 5 years before the present...
There was a bitterness to returning to a broken home, treading ground soiled with blood long since dried but of a memory he sought to forget. Fourteen years felt like a lifetime, raising the question of whether or not Ruug still lived. Even as his boots crunched against the rocks strewn about the path to the old Fett's wayward homestead he could imagine the look on the old man's face. Looks, if he was being honest with himself. The last time he had spoken to the old Mandalorian there had been sore words cast between them. Of a young man who wanted nothing more to do with his parents and an old man desperate to guide a lost soul on the path he knew was almost out of reach.
Lifting his hands to his helmet, the Mandalorian slid it off his head and nestled it comfortably beneath his left arm; a gesture that left his face to suffer the unacclimated breeze of the planet he had once called home. A shiver ran down his spine and he reached up to press the access switch of the console he recognized as minutely repaired since his youth. he remembered fondly, as if it were yesterday, the day he had smashed the console inadvertently while testing out his newly forged helmet. No dent was present on the helm, but the memory was enough to remind him of the headache. His thoughts were disrupted entirely as a snap hiss and slide of the door captured his attention, and a familiar, yet stranger, hallway presented itself to him.
Had he forgotten the look of the old man's home? The welcoming air it granted? The feeling of the air as it shifted from exterior to interior? He felt a fool to let such things slip into memory and be lost. But what was a man to do in the absence of an impulse to return home? Perhaps it was that very lack of a notion that had driven him to this decision. Either way, he knew there was nothing more he could do but face the reality of what awaited him beyond the inner door of the home. And yet, even as he prepared himself for a much grander welcome, the sound of racket from two rooms away reached the Mandalorian's ears before he had even crossed the threshold into the common area. A room now filled with dolls, toy weapons and what looked to be scrap Mandalorian Iron. A strange sight, but one he shrugged off in memory of the old man.
"Morutar yaim, bu'ad." The voice was familiar but rasped with age, and even before the man had come into sight it was clear he had waited to speak those words. Words that accompanied a face he did not expect to see upon the old man. "Rejorhaa'ir gar gehat'ik, Daras."
"Me'vaar ti gar, Ba'buir? The words are easy, but the returned expression is not. The expression on the old man's face was enough to floor him as he saw the bitterness in his eyes. What could have happened to change the old man so? How long had he really been gone?
Was he right to return home?
"Do not dodge my questions, Daras. I may be old, but you'll find my mind is still formidable." The old man explained to the Mandalorian, making himself comfortable across from him in the common area. There was still the sound of a small ruckus in a distant part of the home, but Daras was in no position to ask a question about it. He had been put on the spot.
"You don't want to know where I've been, what I've seen. I would sooner forget," Daras sighed, now moving carefully in his armor to a more comfortable position against the wall nearest him. There was no mistaking the conviction in the old man's words. His grandfather had always been inquisitive and direct. It was better he return his thoughts to the old man in kind.
"Than we won't speak of it now. As it would seem, your return has given me the opportunity to broach a far more difficult subject." With those words spoken, the old man leaned back into his chair, tilted his head and extended an arm toward the hall to his far left. A hall that Daras remembered having in a room off of when he was a child. What could the old man possibly have to show him? Why now? The old man had not lost his wits, but perhaps his age was beginning to make him vulnerable to different maladies.
Or so he thought until a sight struck him that brought a weight against his chest. There was no explaining what he saw, only comprehending it. Any test would have been optimal in comparison to this. There were no words.
"Haa'taylir gar buir, ad." The old man echoed to the child as she came to stand beside his chair. Her hair was white as snow, her eyes a bright icy blue and her skin pale. The image of a woman he had known years ago truck him, though how many he could not recall, as he collapsed on his knees to the ground now eye level with the child.
"Ba'buir," he uttered helplessly as he watched the girl stare back at him shyly. "Me'bana?"
"Aliit, bu'ad." The old man returned and with a small nudge to the girl's shoulder she carried her weight reluctantly across the floor towards the Daras.
"Where is your mother?" He choked, hoping some explanation could be given to him as the girl stood in front of him. Only to receive a shake of her head as a sadness began to cloud her eyes. A painful truth set upon him as he watched this scene play out before him. This was her child, their child. His child. His treasure that it seemed she died waiting to give him. "Ner ad'ika."
He extended his arms, the girl complied with little hesitation wrapping her arms around his neck, and for the first time in what had felt like an eternity of his years he had a family once more. With a warm and pleasant expression dressing his face, the young Mandalorian gripped the child to his chest and drew in a breath.
"Tion gar gai?" The question came before he had considered the consequences and the girl drew back from him slowly with yet another saddened expression on her face. His gaze turned to the old man, standing across from them now.
"That is your right, Daras, not mine." The old man's voice resonated as he fell into thought of the girl standing before him. Family. What was he without family? He was nothing. This girl was all he had left besides the old man. She was his treasure, a gold spot among the rest of the dark.
"Vevu," he muttered as he pondered thoughts of names and the girl's face lit up. First a light in her icy eyes, then a grip of her hands against his and then, finally, a warm smile that brought him back to the present from thoughts of her mother. "Gar gai."
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Corr
Member
You can lead a fool to knowledge but you can't make him think.
Posts: 940
Affiliation: Clan Vhett
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Post by Corr on Aug 21, 2017 12:35:04 GMT -8
Where are you going to go? The voice appeared inside his head so abruptly and naturally that he wasn't sure for a moment if it wasn't his own mind conjuring it. The memories and flashbacks had become so invasive and unanticipated that it was becoming very difficult to separate them from the real, present world. The speeder bike cut a brown tail of kicked up dirt as it made its way across the rustic landscape of Concord Dawn, no apparent destination obvious. With considerable effort he realised that the voice had come from a preset comm channel in his buy'ce. A tactical channel from the last in a long line of wars it seemed...
Haar'chak, or'dinii! Liser ni draar eyaytir gar jorad... {{Damn it, fool! Can I never escape your voice...}}
He was close to blocking the channel but instead snapped out a reply to the question...
To find a way off of this planet.
He had arrived on Concord Dawn as a passenger on a cargo freighter, his own ship lost somewhere in the Yavin System.
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Ashrah
The Mandalorian Assembly
Posts: 329
Affiliation: Mandalorians
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Post by Ashrah on Aug 21, 2017 18:05:29 GMT -8
I have a ship. You coming?
His replay was simple. To the point, and his usual brusqueness.
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Corr
Member
You can lead a fool to knowledge but you can't make him think.
Posts: 940
Affiliation: Clan Vhett
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Corr on Aug 22, 2017 9:11:00 GMT -8
He weighed up the question in his mind for a moment as the bike cruised between cultivated fields. He was entering the outlaying lands that surrounded one of the small towns that dotted the landscape south of the Vhett Homestead. He knew the place but couldn't bring the name to mind, the jagged scars left on his memory obscuring only part of the truth, leaving the partial recall all the more frustrating for its tantalising hints at his history. That being said, his unfortunate trauma wasn't total. He knew damn well who Ashrah was even if he could not quite remember a lot of their shared past. Somehow both an enemy and an ally they had found common ground in the past, using each other for their own benefit when their goals aligned. Perhaps this was just such another moment, when two opposing forces would collide and careen off in the same direction...
Navigating his helmet systems with a complicated series of facial ticks and twitches, the motions ingrained into his very fabric, he activated the transponder associated with the buy'ce. Without uttering a word he simply sent the data over the open channel, his message a clear 'come and get me'. As he drifted into the nameless town he once again tried to recall the name only to be met with the violent shriek of pain that was becoming all to familiar. With a snarl he pulled the bike to a halt at the far side of town, level with a large untended field, and dismounted to wait for Ashrah.
Betrayal was likely, trouble almost certain, but for now he would accept the offer and go along with the former Mand'alor.
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