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Post by Whill Shaman Nyx on Apr 9, 2013 1:50:34 GMT -8
*Tipoca City was the capital city of Kamino and the site of a major cloning facility. It consisted of a network of stilt structures that spanned more than a hundred kilometers along Kamino's western equator and was considered by many to be the heart of Kaminoan society. No Kaminoans took residence within the city, nor was there any public space. Nearly all Kaminoans who worked within the city lived in numerous satellite cities situated around the capital.*
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 5, 2013 14:01:56 GMT -8
*Rain lashed down incessantly, it struck against steel domed perfect curving structures just as vehemently as it speared into the ocean, drop by drop. They said that Kamino was named Planet of the storms, and rightly so. A world swathed in a rolling turbulent water and how the elegant almost fragile Kaminoan race had withstood this torrid planet let alone crafted such elegant stilt like structures was beyond imagining.
Atop a landing pad stood an old GPE-7300 looming skyward, shadowing what seemed against spaceship and back drop an insignificant figure*.
Standing alone atop an ovule lily pad shaped landing pad stood a lone bedraggled figure, standing apparently by freedom of choice a midst this raging storm this drenched cloaked humanoid figure stood prone, every so often he would look skyward searching what little of the dark sky he could perceive through the rain. He then bowed his head before the rain tore out his eyes and persevered in standing hands clasped beneath cowl waiting and watching, a silent vigil.
Asc pondered as to when his fragile appointed teacher would arrive. Since being called to Pzob time seemed to have spiraled madly out of control. So much had happened and much of it was unexplained and alien, and yet it fit, it felt somehow right. Now however away from Pzob and the calling of the Temple seeds of doubt were creeping in, blindly he had followed coordinates, coordinates given to him by a thin rake of a man, of which he knew nothing of, whose power infected him and whose secrets and arts he wished to posses. The Temple had spoken, she had shown him the glory, shown him what he could become if he embraced the power, the future was his, but this future had to be hewn, and crafted it would be, but how? This was something Asc had not seen and neither did he know, he had only seen the very real possibilities, the journey was his and his alone and thus so far it had taken some small leaps of faith, one was in this man whom he knew nothing of, and here he was alone, unannounced being assailed by the elements. Was this the path to freedom? Time and choices would tell.*
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Post by Deleted on May 5, 2013 17:52:26 GMT -8
A screech akin to nails on a chalkboard echoed through the hallway. Drumming of many legs crawling at a fast pace moved through the air. A panting Kaminoan stopped, his hand on the wall. He seemed half starved, even skinnier than normal for his species. His eyes darted back and forth, both from adrenaline and lack of sleep. He coughed, and doubled over. He was unsure if the creature was still after him, but the taps he heard behind him confirmed it was. Taking a few deep breaths to calm himself, the Kaminoan then started running again, going through door after door, not even bothering to close them behind him. Speed was of the essence, life or death in fact. He dared a glance back, and regretted it immediately when he saw what was behind him.*
*Falmorn growled, letting the horrible sound move through the air, until it reached the Kaminoan. He loved playing with his food, especially this little treat. His vengeance had been swift. Years spent in captivity had destroyed much of his patience, but it would return when he took this place as his own. This was the last scientist, out of the team of over one hundred, that he had hunted down and killed. It had been fun for the Assembler. The hunt excited Falmorn greater than he had felt in centuries. Nodes, crafted from the material that he had taken from his previous prey, moved quickly, going forward through the vents to close and lock several doors, funneling the fleeing scientist to where he wanted him to go. The madness brought on by nearly a two weeks without sufficient sleep cancelling out things that the Kaminoan would have normally noticed, if he had been rested. Falmorn let loose something like a laugh, and the Kaminoan screamed as he nearly ran right into a pack of seven Nodes, but they closed the door between them. He just turned and ran, tears coming up. He regretted ever buying the information off of the Black Market, but the chance to study an Assembler! The creatures were largely legend. Few were know to exist. He had not suspected that the species was fully sentient, let alone intelligent. He could almost feel the hot breathing on his back, and pushed his muscles even harder.*
If he had the capability to salivate, Falmorn would, as he smelled the sweat of the scientist he could also smell the fear, and the desperation. He let loose another horrible laugh, or what passed as one for him, and moved through a door, closing it behind him. He chose to go the long way to cut the Kaminoan off further ahead, where his Nodes were funneling him to a cloning chamber, where his web was spun, and the game would end. He had grown tired of this. Besides, once he was finished toying with this pathetic excuse for a creature, he could search the facility for what was his. He knew some of his belongings were here, from his asteroid. He smelled them, the scent of his asteroid clung to certain parts of the air. He wanted what was his back. It would not quell his anger, but it was a start.*
The Kaminoan ran into a cloning chamber, and realized he was trapped. All the control panels to the doors in the room were red, locked. He took out a blaster pistol, and held it up, scanning the walls, and the ceiling. He stopped suddenly, and turned around, and came face to face with the thing responsible for murdering his team, and he now guessed, him. He aimed the blaster at the Assembler, and pulled the trigger, but the power cell was depleted. He moaned, and fumbled with another one in his pocket. Falmorn simply watched patiently as the Kaminoan drew what would be its final breaths. He waited until it had reloaded the blaster and a chuckle emanated from him. The Kaminoan screamed in response, and shot, but the bolt went wild, and Falmorn pounced, making the experience extremely painful, and slow. The screams echoed through the facility for hours upon hours, until they finally ceased.
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Ishmael
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Affiliation: The Way of Lapay
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Post by Ishmael on May 6, 2013 13:11:04 GMT -8
[/font][/ul] *I stood behind Asc, at the very top of the ramp that lead from the interior of Tipoca City out to this obscure landing pad. Clad in heavy black robes that were quickly becoming waterlogged, and leaning heavily upon a staff of twisted black wood, I appraised my new student silently. My cowl was up, concealing my ruined face, but my amber eyes shone out like twin coins from the darkness.*[/font][/ul] *I raised a claw-like hand and beckoned for Asc to follow me, then turned on my heel and began limping down the length of the ramp. This incessant rain was going to be a major annoyance, I could already tell, but most of my research could be performed indoors- thank Chaos- so I wouldn't have much occasion to go outside. Although, I have heard mention of some of the local fauna, and I do wonder what effects the application of some minor alchemy to their genetic structures would have...*
*But this is musing better left for a later date. At present we have work to attend to, my new student and I.*
*Slipping out of the rain and into the bright, sterile interior of Tipoca City, I tugged my cowl down with a wet smack of drenched cloth. Squinting my amber eyes as they adjusted to the harsher lighting, I ran a hand back through my mane of shoulder-length black hair, and then started off again, following the winding corridor and ignoring all of the side-passages that branched away from it. Our goal was much, much further in.* |
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Post by Deleted on May 6, 2013 13:37:41 GMT -8
*The sudden silken tones that fell like oil on his ears made Asc jump. How long had the bent twisted figure with equally twisted staff been standing watching him in silence. Asc had not seen him arrive, nor had he heard any sound, not that with such cover the thunder of rain provided would he have likely heard anything.
Asc turned slowly eyebrows raised. This Ishmael character was to the point, already in his recent meeting with the Lord had Asc seen how direct and concisely he had spoken, so to now. Two golden orbs shining out through the murk that surrounded us and then a thin bony hand beckoned.
It was clear Ishmael wished to investigate the old cloning facilities for himself, clearly troopers of the Eye as Ishmael dictated would have been ordered to investigate, so why then was this haggard man interested, Asc's brow furrowed as he wondered if the Man's mortality bothered him. It seemed obvious to Asc that swathed in paper thin pale flesh a diminishing frame and apparent state of health was a cue that a new body would be regenerate the spindly stick he was.
Was this Ishmael's plan then? If he sought to clone a younger healthier version of himself than so be, yet there was something else to this, for Asc knew that Ishmael being a man of power surely could have already acquired a new body, so what was this?
Asc would only find out by following.*[/font][/ul] *Asc walked slowly, his cloak sticking to him as he moved, his feet squelching inside his boots. He grimaced unable to prevent his discomfort from showing.*
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Ishmael
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Affiliation: The Way of Lapay
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Post by Ishmael on May 6, 2013 15:15:19 GMT -8
*I nodded wordlessly, advancing through the winding corridor at a harried pace- well, as swiftly as my limp and dependence on my staff would allow, anyway. The facility had been fully operational just a few weeks ago; that's what made the sudden silence so damned disconcerting. It was obvious that something had happened, but there was no way to tell what, exactly. The cloning facility had a long history of being used for military cloning; it was shielded from scans and had strict counter-intelligence measures in effect at all times. Which made it ideal for the discrete cloning operation, but that also meant it was impossible to find out what happened without actually going inside.* [/font][/ul] *I neglected to mention that since the facility's power was all but inactive, it was more than likely that most of the security systems were offline anyway. I didn't omit this out of any intentional deception; rather, we had arrived at the access hatch, and I had tired of speaking anyway. Absentmindedly passing my staff to Asc, I knelt beside the hatch to get a better look at the magnetic lock keeping it securely closed. Making a disapproving 'tsk-tsk' noise, I passed my pale, claw-like hands over the seam in a slow, steady motion. My eyes half-closed as I brought the force to heel, then bent it to task.*
-Clank!-
*The security pad glowed a bright green as the lock disengaged. I stood, wincing and readjusting my robes, and then flicked my finger negligently at the hatch. It sprang open eagerly, revealing a tunnel that lead down into a darkness eased only by the dim orange glow of emergency lighting. There was a ladder built into the side of the tunnel, and I sighed as I crawled down into the tunnel.* [/font][/ul] *With that I began to descend.*
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 7, 2013 11:30:19 GMT -8
*I followed head bowed beneath cowl in Ishmael's shuffling gate, rap, tap, rap, tap went wooden gnarled staff upon durasteel surface. He continued to walk in silence, whether directly ignoring my questions, seeing them as pointless to answer or whether his hearing was in a similar state to his body I knew not.
I narrowed my gaze and half absent minded , I interwove my fingers and stretched my arms out cracking my knuckles before settling again. I looked up, the rain seemed to be ceasing, it all seemed rather typical that the rain would decide to end as we were about to venture inward. As Ishmael spoke it became apparent that the facility was very secure and in lock down or that Ishmael wished us to remain undetected, or perhaps it was both.
The husk of the man before me stopped upon reaching the sweeping stretching of a curving dome, he seemed to tut quietly before, without even glancing thrusting his staff toward me. I took the solid object and the moment it touched my skin I almost dropped it, the staff seemed to snake, it was like a living burning fire resided within its wooden bowels. I was so surprised I almost missed Ishmael perform a pattern of movement across the grate which apparently caused some mechanism to swing the grate outward.
I felt my eyebrows arch upward, but didn't ask how, or even what had caused the grate to open expectantly. Ishmael stood as a feint whining sounded out, the pad beside the grate flashed multiple times before becoming a solid block of green. In my experience this looked like a type three security grid, in short Ishmael had single handily disengaged a near impenetrable laser grid.
In one motion he adjusted his cloak and drew forth freely the staff from out of my grasp, he turned and began to descend calling me to follow. I glanced around us and watched Ishmael's shoulder's than head disappear from view into the narrow gap. I lowered my hood and turned about to lie prone and slide through the narrow hatch. My booted feet found the ladder after a few attempts and then I too began to descend in the eerie blue glow of light not neglecting to bring the hatch closed after me.*
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Post by Deleted on May 8, 2013 11:37:43 GMT -8
Falmorn froze, and lifted himself as he heard the noise of metal banging. Even this far away, the silence that permeated the facility he now inhabited allowed any level of noise to echo. Nonetheless it was nothing like the cold hard vacuum of space, the environment that the Assembler was used to. He felt heavy on this world. It had been centuries since his last venture to a vermin infested planet, and while things had changed in manner of some technologies, it was largely the same. How any creature that breathed air to survive, actually survived, was beyond Falmorn's comprehension. They were all so self-destructive. He loathed all other creatures, and found them better put to use as material to create Nodes.*
*His mind going back to the task at hand, Falmorn pinned a Node with one of his claws, and applied pressure. It only took a small amount to kill the thing, which he enjoyed greatly. Unhooking the now dead Node from his neurofiber web, and ingested the Node, enjoying every crunch the breaking exoskeleton of the mindless Assembler drone. The task at hand completed, Falmorn shifted his attention at hand; who had entered his domain? Moving along his web nearly without sound, Falmorn stopped when he came to a panel, and pried it off. The wires inside were a mess, but Falmorn moved delicately as he separated the tangled wiring and began reconnecting some of them. A few sparks flew out into the air, and the Assembler then put the panel back over the wires.*
*Moving back down, Falmorn then dismounted his web, and went through a door, and into the security room, gazing at several screens and holograms. Whoever was here, they were not on any feed....yet. He deduced that they must have taken a maintenance hatch of some kind, something Falmorn could not fit into, but his Nodes could. He did not, however, want to waste his Nodes just yet, no matter how worthless they were. Instead he went back to the room where his web was, the generator room. He enjoyed it because of the warmth. Going to the controls, he activated main power in several areas, including the tunnel that his uninvited guests were.*
*Falmorn had new guests to entertain. He only hoped they would prove more of a challenge than the last fifty or so.
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Ishmael
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Affiliation: The Way of Lapay
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Post by Ishmael on May 19, 2013 14:13:38 GMT -8
*I remained silent as we descended, the only sounds in the oppressive darkness the rasping of my failing lungs and the clink of boots on metallic rungs. In truth, I do not yet know what to think of this Acolyte. He seems quiet and uncommonly intense. The dark side favors him, that much I could have discerned with the most cursory of examinations, but for what reason I have not yet determined. Have I been cursed with the presence of yet another zealot? I don't know how much more of this moronic, radical religiousness I can tolerate.*
*But perhaps my student's quiet demeanor hides some modicum of intelligence? I suppose that would be too much to hope for.*
*I pause as the tunnel's lighting system suddenly activates, amber eyes narrowing. We are not alone...so, the possibility of an electronic failure within the facility can be ruled out. It was a slim hope to begin with, but now I draw the dark side to me, feeling the tainted energy drape itself about me. I let my senses expand, and continued down the ladder without comment.*
*When we reached the bottom of access hatch, I turned to the door and negligently flicked my forefinger in its direction. It slid open with a metallic hiss. Before stepping through I turned to Asc.*
[/ul] *My tone did not invite reply.*[/font]
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Post by Deleted on May 19, 2013 14:53:36 GMT -8
*I descended in his rasping wake, with each tedious step his wheezing grew in intensity, I wondered if he would make the descent at all, would he halt for breath, darkly I pondered if he would fall, I quickly dislodged that thought, for without Ishmael how or to where would I go. He and I were tethered by the string of fate.
Occupied by my own thoughts it was I who faltered, the sudden buzzing as the lights blossomed into existence unsettled me from my rhythmic descent, my foothold slipped and I fell three rungs, my right hand snatched out securing my sudden fall.
I swallowed nervously as a tell tale bead of sweat trickled down my brow. I looked down now at the floor below, somehow the darkness had been more welcome as I could now just glimpse how I could have met my demise upon the unforgiving floor below.
Grasping hold more securely I steady myself, Ishmael's tone of voice as it rose up toward me was not pleasing as he commented upon my lapsed state of concentration.
I too after a portion of time completed my descent, having initially had hopes that the lighting was a sign of welcome came crashing around me, following Ishmael through the now vacant hatch I could feel the energy of power roiling around me. I could taste it. Once more as it had on Pzob it began to paw at my insides.
I followed in silence, alone with this curdling, coiling power within gently calling to me; my mind thought back to Pzob, I knew how it felt, and She the Temple, she had shown me where it could lead, but the how, this eluded me.
Ishmael nor none other had spoken to me, words of the Dark Side had been mentioned the temple had spoke of Bogan, what ever its guise I yearned to know how to behold it, as of now I was but a slave to its beckoning.*
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Ishmael
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Affiliation: The Way of Lapay
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Post by Ishmael on Jun 27, 2013 18:32:12 GMT -8
*The stench of death hit me the moment I stepped out of the maintenance tunnel and into the corridor. Emergency lighting washed everything in a dim red glow, but it was enough to illuminate the corpses strewn along the length of the hallway. Most had been savaged- blood painted the walls and pooled on the floor- and a few were completely dismembered. I stepped over a severed arm as I cleared the way for Asc to come through the entry way, boot splashing in a puddle of black gore. My nose wrinkled in disgust as I flicked a forefinger at the bodies lying in the middle of the corridor. As if by an invisible hand they were swept to the side, clattering into the wall. Ignoring the clanking of armor and smacking of flesh, I started forward.*
*My silence masks my unease; I do not presume to speculate on the identity of the facility's aggressor, but my imagination conjures disturbing images nonetheless. I do not believe it to be any enemy of the Order that we now hunt- if the Jedi or their Republic backers had wished to strike, they would not have done so with such ferocity (or, I dare say, efficiency). No, I believe the perpetrator to be something wholly...different.*
"Pay attention to your surroundings," *I murmured.* "A perceptive mind is the most valuable asset one can possess."
*I fell silent, listening to the harsh clack of my staff on the tile floor echo down the corridor and drawing the dark side to me, opening myself to its tainted embrace. I would need its aid to face whatever lurked within the blood soaked depths of this facility, of that much I was certain. Ah, but what of my student? Eyes like twin points of light in the darkness lingered upon him as I pondered our dilemma. To have him face such peril, untested and unproven, seemed rash. However, the Way of Lapay is the way of conflict, and strife. If he could not survive, he was not worthy to survive. It was as simple as that, and while I would hate to lose this resource without fully assessing its value, it would indeed be interesting to see how he fared on this venture. Besides, Asc would continue to serve my endeavors, alive or dead.*
*I froze as I rounded the corner, slender frame stiffening as the force screamed a warning. Simultaneously I heard the skittering of insectile legs on the tile floor, and my golden eyes narrowed. It would seem it was finally time for us to face our foe. Ready or not, Asc, here it comes.*
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Post by Deleted on Jun 29, 2013 16:20:47 GMT -8
*I quickly found my fist stuffed into my mouth as I doubled over, my body going through the motions of vomiting; the smell was bad. My balled up fist did little to no avail and vomit pooled out, seeping between the narrow cracks in my fingers, I removed my hand and supported myself against the cold unfeeling wall letting my body rack until It was drawing nothing but rasping breaths.
Done, I wiped my mouth with the back of my sleeve and swallowed dryly, then continued in the footsteps of Ishmael, we soldiered on in silence once he had informed me that an alert state was to be desired, although how one was to be 'perceptive' as he put it with the stench of rotting flesh in a heated confined space I did not know.
I staggered along, yet even in the stillness of this place, something crept, as we slunk our way down this access corridor to the gentle rap tap of his staff I felt the hunger within me grow; not a physical hunger you understand, no this was something I so badly needed to feast upon, I could feel it rising and I knew instantly its source; that being the man in front of me.
For the first time I craved not just the power he wielded but the control in which he executed this power, a power that fell on me and came from me in waves of which I could not control.
He stopped, head bowed, body still, but I could feel a searching furtive mind beneath that cool exterior, something was afoot. I readied my self as I knew best, a soft bend in my limbs became apparent, for to seize or be stiff meant certain death, and death was not something I wished to find me.*
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Post by Darth Xenro on Jul 27, 2013 0:47:17 GMT -8
Rain was far from a precious commodity on Kamino. In fact, during certain seasons, it scarcely stopped on the planet, which was largely comprised of water to begin with. Tipoca city, while not exactly an illustrious machination of enginuity, was certainly a vision of efficiency. But for that redeeming quality, the man footing the bill might have let the city rot- or perhaps he might not have. It was said that he was not a creature of whim. Twin orbs of unholy green watched idly as the transport slowly went through the landing cycle, listening to the communications play over and over in the background.
Others had undoubtedly already responded, though the mercenary's benefactor had little interest in them or their designs- no, the cloners had been terrorized by something, and now, their data- their clones, their technology, all of their resources- could be tapped, if the master found the proper vein. A push here, a pull there, and just the right amount of pressure could make all the difference. A man need never lift a finger, if he learns how to cast his voice from the shadows.
The unceremonious clattering of gears gave way to a single 'thud,' and his head rose, an expression of vague interest displayed on his face. The man here looked young, his skin fair, and his hair a well groomed shade of black. The uniform he wore was standard of a noble, dark hues of black and blue trimmed in a dull, rustic gold, a pistol at his hip- more for show and intimidation than for use- and a datapad hanging at his waist that hummed with data about his identity and designation, as well as security clearance.
Dorik Mor had been, at one time, a skilled slicer and a renown merc, for the right price. All of his credentials were perfect, all of his clothing his- even the skin he wore. But his eyes were almost vacant, sinister, a shade of green seemingly impossible if you were not looking directly into them. With a smile and a nod of affirmation toward another member of the crew, Dorik glanced toward the back of the transport before rising and preparing to enter the compound.
"Inform the landing control group we have arrived, and have us cleared. I do not forsee any hidden difficulties, but one can never be too certain with these... delicate circumstances." His jaw moved in a circular motion, as if he were unused to speaking, as though his mouth had fallen into slackness with disuse. He caught himself gaping, and snapped his lips shut. "Do not, under any circumstances, allow anyone into the hold without my direct supervision. The supplies we brought are extremely volatile."
Blinking his eyes slowly, Dorik stepped out into the deluge, then turned his gaze skyward, as if in abject defiance of all the gods man had ever made. Several moments passed, then he started back on his trek into the facility. The Merc had been tasked with finding the cause of the disruption of the Kaminoan work. And, upon that, putting an end to it and establishing a healthy relationship with the people working inside.
Obviously, things had gotten a bit hairy along the way- Dorik had found himself in dangerous company, and there had been a seriously life threatening altercation- but that was in the past now. Now, he had work to do...
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Ishmael
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Affiliation: The Way of Lapay
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Post by Ishmael on Jul 27, 2013 13:17:45 GMT -8
[/i][/font][/ul][/ul] "We shall be quartered here for the duration of our stay on Kamino," *The sorcerer said with an aimless gesture at the sterile white interior of the estate. It was a modest compound, containing perhaps twenty rooms and half as many full-time servants. He'd spurned Bacca's offer of much larger quarters without explanation; the truth was he abhorred having servants and staff members constantly underfoot, and hoped to be largely left to his own devices while assigned to the stormy world.*
"You are free to explore the city, though I do require you to have your comlink active at all times in case I have need of you." *His smile was more of a bitter grimace.* "However unlikely that may be."
*Ishmael paused for a moment, his amber gaze restless as it scanned room the duo currently found themselves in- nondescript, home to naught but a few battered pieces of furniture and an outdated holoprojector. This was the first room one encountered when entering the estate, reached after traversing a short corridor guarded by a single sleepy soldier in cheap plastoid armor. He shook his head. At least it was far from the prying eyes of the Order. Here, he would be left alone, free to pursue his own research and- aside from the occasional report or survey of the cloning facilities- out from beneath Bacca's yoke.*
*At the thought of the Cyclopian warlord, Ishmael's eyes narrowed. The time had finally come for him to break away from the Order. That much was obvious. They were a dying faction, their power weakening and their hold on their various territories decaying. It was true, he had managed to accrue some modicum of power while in service to them, but now they were nothing but a hindrance. They had handed him Kamino with the delusional confidence of those whose power has made them invincible. They would regret that decision.*
*He finally turned to face Asc, one eyebrow upraised as he awaited his pupil's reply.* |
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Post by Darth Xenro on Jul 27, 2013 20:58:12 GMT -8
Each step into the city was another unexpected setback. He had been told to anticipate hostility, and yet, he found only the austere facility, in perfect and working order, to greet him. Livid green eyes assessed the area as he turned a corner, and was greeted by a tall Kaminoan. Tall, perhaps, a relative term. The features of the lithe creature were almost perfect, he noted in silence, except for a barely detectable area of the face that had grown in irregularly, the skull having probably fractured at one point in an earlier cycle of the creature's life. Pitiable, in fact, because the pale flesh of the Cloner was a perfect specimen.
Of course, a single flaw ruined the entire sample. "Salutations," the female voice crooned out, giving Dorik a determinate honorific with which the greet the androgynous entity. "I am called Eena Karrlo. I am the supervisor of the facilities in Tipoca City."
Tilting his head as if to consider the new information, Dorik's lips rose in a practised smile- the sort Corellians were notorious for, that disarming, fraudulent and dirty, crooked smiles that charmed the pants off many human women- and he greeted her in a respectful fashion, returning her cordial warmth. "Dorik Mor. I was hired to assist you with the rebuilding effort of the facilities, but it appears i am a bit tardy, doesn't it?"
"Ah, Master Mor, yes, i recall that request- that was nearly a week ago. I trust you were extremely preoccupied." HHer tone betrayed nothing of her racial disdain for his lack of promptness, but there were other ways to see through an elaborate guise, even one taken on by a Kaminoan. "Regardless- we still have need of you, to discuss the matter of reclaiming your up-front fees."
Part of Dorik sneered at that, but he blinked it away and his lips knit together in a thin line. "Yes, of course, he replied in a careful tone, reaching up to wipe sweat from his brow. It was a fever he was running, his body hotter than any human's should be for any length of time. His hand fell to his lips, and he gave a soft cough, shaking it off, smiling once more. He watched the Kaminoan, seeing in her the shade of greed, and he knew immediately.
She was nothing more than a pawn in this game. She would offer little resistance, so long as he slaked her thirst for credits. Still... she held a certain degres of annoyance to something inside him, and the thought of having to go through her on a long term basis did not sit well with him. Again he coughed, this time a bit more loudly, and he shook a bit as it rippled through him. "Are you ill, Master Mor?" She asked, more out of disgust than actual care for his well-being.
"No, no, please, lead on. It's become apparent that you're not the one i need to be speaking to." He took a measure of satisfaction in how she bristled at the insult, but shook it off and led him- in utter silence- toward an estate within the city. She knocked at the door, and they waited.
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Ishmael
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Affiliation: The Way of Lapay
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Post by Ishmael on Jul 29, 2013 18:01:16 GMT -8
*The sleepy guard in the cheap armor was Ielyn Markov, an ex-Republic marine that had served two tours in the jungles of Felucia before being dishonorably discharged after an altercation involving a vibro-knife and his sergeant. They'd kicked him out rather than try and sort out the mess, and he'd been happy to leave. Freelance mercenary work had proved a much more fitting life-style for the balding human. Not only was he good at what he did, it had cured him of any need for adventure. Now he was content to sit back and let his credits pile up while he read flesh-mags and guarded the door to an estate no one ever visited.*
*When a knock sounded at the other end of the corridor, the barrel-shaped human laid a hand on the pistol strapped to his hip and approached it, more disgruntled than wary. Still, he checked the video-feed before he opened the door. Just a Kaminoan and her escort. Blowing a sigh of irritation through his pursed lips, he slapped a palm against the security scanner and the door slid open with a hiss.*
"Eena." *He said curtly. Ielyn had never gotten along with the administrator. Too proper. Total bitch. He spotted the stack of flimsy in her hand and grunted.* "Paperwork? I'll go get the new boss."
*Before Asc had a chance to reply there came the crackle of the intercom being activated. Striding past his pupil without looking at him, Ishmael pressed one clawed finger against the switch.* "What is it?"
"Administrator from the cloning facility. Looks like she's got some Sithspit for you to sign." *The sorcerer paused for a moment, irritation evident on his face. Not only was he eager to begin setting up in this new locale, he had no desire to deal with paperwork. Still...better to get this out of the way and assign someone to handle it in the future.*
"Send them in."
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Post by Darth Xenro on Sept 6, 2013 22:16:55 GMT -8
Mor hacked another cough as he slid past the Kaminoan woman with a curt nod, eyes flicking in her direction, as if assessing something. Her features were, as normal for a member of her race, pale and gaunt. Lithe. Abject perfection, one might mistakingly say- there always is something wrong wirh the living, after all. Wasn't that what the Master had kept insisting? So fragile, so impermanent...
His gaze fled her as a tremor rippled through her, and she held up a hand to stifle a cough of her own. In horror, she looked up at him, disbelieving. She looked at her hand; painted crimson, and her eyes grew wide. Holding up a hand to wave goodbye, Mor disappeared through the door, which creaked eerily shut behind him, even as the panicked sound of vomit splattering on austere metal echoed behind him.
Fragile, indeed.
This power in his body, holding him together at the seams, bolstering immunities against an unknown assailant, cheating the end- his Master's work. Fingers moving strings from the shadows. He reached the door, and he lifted his hand to rap at it with bloodied knuckles. A stray thought brought a smirk to his face.
So much for them taking back their money.
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Ishmael
Member
Posts: 134
Affiliation: The Way of Lapay
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Post by Ishmael on Sept 12, 2013 18:06:39 GMT -8
*In the space between my invitation and Darik's knock I turned to Asc and motioned to the corridor leading further into the estate.*
"Begone. I'll find you when my business here is concluded. In the meantime, find yourself suitable quarters and meditate on what we've discussed so far." *He looked somewhat reluctant, perhaps because of the flat dismissal in my tone, but after a moment's hesitation he nodded and departed. I watched him go, frowning thoughtfully. Regrettably I'm none too certain about my newest pupil. Oh, he has potential, to be sure, but the willpower and the drive necessary to realize it? I fear he may lack those. I turned toward the entrance still shaking my head, and responded to Darik's knock by opening the door.*
*Giving the mercenary a long look that traveled from his face to his boots and back again, I raised an eyebrow in query. Obviously there was more to this visitor than met the eye. Not only had Ielyn mentioned a female, but the cloning facilities were staffed entirely by the natives. I also took note of the lack of paperwork held by my guest, and decided this visit might not be so tedious as I first thought.*
"Well then. What is it you want?"
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L???? ?o R??
Member
Posts: 159
Affiliation: The Way of Lapay
Traffic Light: Green
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Post by L???? ?o R?? on Sept 12, 2013 18:49:18 GMT -8
Bringing the Yama to Tipoca City was at the same time trivial and involved. Trivial because, come on, it is the capital city, after all! Involved because a lightning strike in the midst of all the rain disabled the autopilot. Fracking frack frack frack. I abhor flying manually.
Long since passed are the days in which I would voluntarily enter an asteroid field and crash my Helix-class light interceptor as a result of thrill-seeking within flight. They have been replaced with a certain lack of amusement by such pursuits anymore, and if you take a moment to think about it you realize just how sad that seems, because you involuntarily make the analogy to your own life, and you know that you are not the same as you were even a few years ago. And you get this sense of nostalgia for the simplicity of life, back then, and you realize that those were your halcyon days of youth and you grow almost remorseful that you did not understand back then just how things were, and you regret those wasted years. So it is a tragedy, after all, that I do not enjoy flying as I once did.
Cheer yourself up, though: it is better to be Socrates dissatisfied than a pig satisfied.
We arrive at one of the landing pads belonging to the metropolitan area according to the permission that we were granted from orbit, and as I relinquish the controls with particular vigor and prepare my assets for disembarking procedure, and Aire does the same, in a flash I become aware of that which is here to keep me company. And, for the moment, gone are my concerns over the rain and my eagerness to be cloned and my pursuit of Tyranus's secrets and my irritations over flying. For the moment, all that remains is in my Sight, for after all this time I have found him anew.
"...And so.
Here we are, is that it? Have we come full circle, then?"
How could I miss him.
Far from the furthest reaches of the planet, he is here in this very city. His presence strong, in spite of the frailness of body that I had known him to have. The red-hued silver aura that interlaced so neatly with my own, on those occasions that we spent together. The keenness of mind that attracted me to him in the very beginning on Naboo. The lust for power that solidified his position at my side. The depth of the darkness in spirit that was born of his Sorcery and Alchemy of most unnatural and effective sort. How like unto me, yet how complementary where my strength lacked. All these things are as palpable to me as if he were standing right here beside me in the ship.
How could I fail to take note.
He must know, too, that I have arrived.
How have you been, I wonder? Have you grown as much as I have? Or more? What does your freedom look like now? What tools have you added to your collection? What servants? Have you kept your knowledge to yourself, or have you passed on my teachings mixed with your own to another already? Will you harbor resentment over my absence? Over my servant girl? Could you imagine what I have become?
Could you accept it unwaveringly?
For just a moment, apprehension.
Assign the source to the innate need for acceptance common to all. Squelch it with the assurance that, regardless of his reaction, I am. To impress him is not my goal. My power is self-evident, and I am. Let my concern dissipate, and the moment dissipates like an ion trail.
It finds itself replaced as my cheeks pull themselves taut and the ivory gleam of my teeth shine in the ambient light of the cockpit controls.
I would be lying more overtly than usual to say that I did not eagerly anticipate this reunion.
"We should not delay at all. Come, Aire. The time has come for you to meet the most important of all."
I felt her assert her own eagerness in my mind. She was no stranger to him except in formal acquaintance. So we rose together and departed from the ship into the endless precipitation of the planet Kamino. Torrents of water flow unnoticed down the contours of Freedom, impermeable to the elements; fast-dampened locks clump meaninglessly together as she pays her heed only to me, and the man we both need to see. Standing side by side, in our own way we both appreciate the will of the Force that wrought this.
Our original purpose was nearly forgotten-- there can be no greater testament, I think, to your significance than that.
We have come here to meet with Lapay no Tal.
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Ishmael
Member
Posts: 134
Affiliation: The Way of Lapay
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Post by Ishmael on Sept 18, 2013 11:53:19 GMT -8
*I watched the rain stream from the Yama's hull as its bulk settled, the sight of the vessel bringing back what seemed to be a lifetime of memories. How many discussions had we shared in the Yama's cockpit? How many nights had I fallen asleep in my cabin, pondering the Way, slowly coming to understand the true path to freedom? True, the most defining moments of my training had taken place elsewhere: Theed, where I was introduced to the Way and achieved some fledgling knowledge of its truth; and Rattatak, where I'd proven myself worthy and been dubbed Lapay no Tal- and received a rather nasty scar that spanned the length of my abdomen in the process (I'd chosen not to rid myself of it, having deemed it an appropriate symbol of my ascension). But the Yama became as much a home to me as Castle Ventress and even Mustafar, and as the ramp lowers I realize I am wearing a fond smile. No doubt it would look most out of place on my pale face with its harsh, angular features. The contemplative scowl that replaces it is much more suiting.*
*Even more powerful of a reminder than the Yama is Ryu's presence. Powerful, refined, it is even more familiar to me than Alkor's, nearly as familiar as my own. 'Ah, but where did you go?' I wonder silently, not quite begrudgingly. His disappearance had not left me lost, abandoned, helpless. I pursued power elsewhere in his absence, and indeed I have grown stronger since we last met- much stronger. But so has he, I can tell this immediately, and I realize I am still not his equal. In a way I am glad. How disappointing, to meet your long lost master after years apart, only to realize he is no longer someone to be respected, admired, viewed with purposed envy?*
*But that does bring me to the question of why you are here, Ryu. And I cannot help that my brow furrows with suspicion. I cannot help that my grip tightens on the haft of my stave, a sign of my readying myself for this reunion. I never once considered the possibility that you would not return to me- the only variable was for what reason you would do so.*
*I watched him descend the ramp, and a moment later he was followed by another. I did not sense her earlier- I assumed because I was too focused on studying Ryu's presence to take notice of it, but after a moment I realize it is because their aura's are so alike I simply failed to distinguish hers. It is immediately obvious to me that she is his student, and obviously an adept one. Should I feel jealous? He did desert me to teach another, after all. I feel nothing, however. Nothing but vague unease. I doubt very much Ryu would come here just for me. No, he sought something else here, on this planet in which I have so heavily invested. Still, I cannot help but feel some measure of anticipation at the sight of his smile. It has been too long since I have seen him, my most valued friend.*
*I'm using a minor application of Telekinesis to remain dry, a simple umbrella of energy that parts the rain about me, but my boots and the hem of my robes are still soaked, and my long black hair is wet just from the dampness in the air. Fixing my amber gaze on the duo as they approached, I bowed almost imperceptibly and turned to Ryu. My face was mostly expressionless- old habits, I suppose, since I'm used to them being all but lost on his Force Sight unless he chooses to focus and discern them- save for an eyebrow arched in query.*
"So, you're alive."
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