Dr. Levi Rose
Member
Posts: 48 
Affiliation: Galactic Republic
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Post by Dr. Levi Rose on Dec 1, 2013 17:10:04 GMT -8
The Carrack Cruiser Refuge approached the Coruscant Naval Medical Hospital in a controlled descent. Levi could see a legion of doctors, nurses and medical droids in white coats ready to meed them at the main landing zone. Good. They seemed to grasp the sheer scale of the catastrophe on board this ship.
"Landing in thirty," the Bith navigator toned. The words left his lips with an audible sigh. Everyone on the bridge of the cruiser was sharing in that relief- they'd done it. They'd gone from the collapsing basement of the Yavin temple through the battlefield that was the hallways, out into the Mandalorian blockade and through hyperspace lanes to this one safe port of call.
All with only a dozen healthy and whole crewmen and a few hundred wounded. No biggie. Nothing at all, really.
The cruisers rocked onto its landing struts, pulling Levi out of his thoughts, watching as the medical personal below rushed the descending cargo and passenger ramps.
There were no words of congratulations or relief amongst those on the bridge. They would all have to be debriefed by Republic and Jedi security personnel, their accounts of the siege taken down for naval intelligence. Levi left his crew to their own business, pausing only a moment to tap Arianna on the shoulder. His companion xeno-physician gave him a confused glance as he smiled down at her.
"I owe you an apology," he mumbled.
"No. You owe me twelve. And a new eye."
"You'll get them, but... I have a few things to take care of first. I have some bodies and padawans to deliver. They already have a transport craft on the other tarmac for the delivery. I'll, uh, come visit in a bit."
"Good luck," she said as the doctor headed down the main corridor as the legion of doctors and nurses hurried to stabilize the many patients aboard the ship.
The Jedi, all eight of them- padawans- were silent in their procession, using the Force between them to carry a dozen solid carbonite coffins out to the landing pad. They congregated on the far side of the platform next to the Republic gunship, watching the doctor move at a zombie-like pace through the throng of colleagues hard at work keeping the hundreds aboard the ship clinging to life.
"We got this far together," he said, reaching into his pocket for a stick of red-smoke, lighting it there on the landing pad, taking a single puff before dousing it on the concrete. "Let's get this finished."
Moments later, the sides of the gunship slid shut, ferrying twenty-one bodies, living and dead, toward the Jedi temple.
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Sara Ruluwoor
Member
Posts: 371
Affiliation: Five Worlds
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Post by Sara Ruluwoor on Jan 16, 2014 20:20:19 GMT -8
Dariis Tower, Level 2178
Many blocks from the proximity of the Senate and the Jedi Temple, in a wealthy area of the city where the Republic still held solid influence, but not the high-level security and ever-present military guard of the Senate District, stood the Dariis Skyscraper, reaching from the gross underbelly of Coruscant almost to the sky itself. And about thirty levels from the top of the ma mouth structure, was a large, airy, open tap-caf that held a popularity with the locals and the wealthier traveler alike. It was a high-class establishment, but it saw all kinds of customers, from Jedi to bankers to white collar criminals looking to play the respectability card. And today, it would serve a Sith lord (not for the first time).
Having received a call from an Ambassador Kerrick Brie with the Republic's Diplomatic Corps, the wait service manager set aside a private room, with a east-facing window, and a thin balsawood partition on two sides to provide privacy without airtight enclosure. A round table was placed in the middle of the room, with seven chairs surrounding it, and then, at one end of the room, a rectangular table was placed against the wall. A prim and proper young waitress was stationed in one corner, to wait on the guests, as they should arrive.
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Kel'Al Raganella
The Jedi Order - Corellian Jedi Academy
Posts: 530
Affiliation: Corellian Jedi Academy
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Kel'Al Raganella on Jan 16, 2014 20:40:43 GMT -8
Dariis Tower, Level 2178
Moments later, a hired airspeeder pulled up at one of the tap-caf's two entrances, both of which jutted right out into the passing traffic of Augene Airlane, and deposited a Jedi Knight with green robes and jet black hair onto the entrance way. The young man turned around momentarily, scanning his Jedi passcard for the droid pilot, then stepped back from the edge, and scanned his surroundings carefully. After a moment's pause and two deep breaths, he turned, and ascended the five steps to the north entrance of the cafe. He nodded politely to the doorman, and entered, keeping his mind vigilant and his reflexes ready for any surprised that might await him inside.
As a Padawan, Jordan had been raised on Corellia, but since the death of his Master Wrix Windoo, and his ascent to the rank of Jedi Knight, he had been assigned to Coruscant herself, the center of the Republic. It had been a jarring adjustment at first, but he recognized the honor that had been bestowed upon him, and he respected the wishes of his mentors on Corellia that he represent their teachings and philosophies to the Jedi as a whole, to improve the unity of the Order. Too many imagined walls had sprouted because of a failure to mingle, and the new High Council had ushered in an era of change (or so it was hoped).
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Seleevan Khar
Adventists of the Eye
Posts: 161
Affiliation: House of Khar
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Post by Seleevan Khar on Jan 17, 2014 7:08:47 GMT -8
Many sightings have been confirmed and archived of The Crete. Some are questioned because if they were right, that would mean the Crete would be able to traverse tens of thousands of parsecs in mare days, but it is widely unknown that a second version was also made. None the less, THIS ship was the Herceles-Class Escape Corvette, named "The Crete", the flagship of Seleevan Khar, the Beast of Vortex. The ship was a Corellian corvette in base, with a second set of ion engines on the fore placed on a scaffold that can angle the engines so the ship gains more speed and mobility. The port side has a large ramp that is also the wall of the relatively small cargo bay. It was this side that opened right after the ship aligned with the skyscraper and hovered to unload.
His head was the first to be seen, being the tallest Vor for ages. 2.5 meters tall, his Blasterhook the same length, but the dark purple brush on his helmet was the first thing to be seen. Golden Centurions helmet with a brush, then the large beak sticking out of it. Thin neck ending in a necklace made from the padawan braid of Johun Starfield. In it, were three chemically preserved little fingers. One male, two female. He had several slim golden plates with gems banded together to look like the sunbeams centring on the Vor Lords neck, like an Aztec jewelery. Thin, high going shoulderpads of gold, more to protect the neck and head from slashes then anything else, and also give enough mobility for flight (or, slow diving in Seleevans case). He was slim for his height, but in comparison to the rest of the Vors, he looked buff. A belt held up his kilt, with a kilt pouch on the front. He had grenades lining his belt, and the handles of two machetes were sticking out on either side behind him.
He ended in sandals.
His weaponry was also significant to him and his troops. The Blasterhook. A Polearm with a curved blade on the end that shoots blaster bolts. Also, every vor, him included had a armguard on the opposing underarm from the main weapon. It had a device on it that projected a deflection Towershield.
He had his entire Triarii Auxillia with him, 30 warrior priests with similar gear to Seleevans own, some of them even able to use the force.
The patrons on the balcony looked around shocked, some even stood up to leave in a haste. This was the most tactical of approaches. If Seleevan was walking into a trap, he had enough civilians around to use as cover. But, the civilians themselves were good proof that there was no ambush, as long as the civilians were not agents themselves.
The sith lord walked down the ramp followed by five of the Triarii Auxillia. When they disembarked, the ramp closed and the ship left for space. One Triarii took stance at the door leading into the café as the group went inside. The establishment owner hurried up to Sel as he got inside, offering his help to show the shortest rout to the VIP lounge they had prepared, but seleevan declined, wanting to see the cake and beverage bar. After about five minutes of choosing, Seleevan was ready.
He met the jedi the VIP lounge armed with a plate of French custard in one hand, and a large spoon in the other. Behind him, two vors were carrying more plates with cakes and pastry while two others carried the weapons. Untill said pastry was chosen and gathered, the entire Vor Warhost Diplomatic Entourage had ignored the jedis presence utterly. Either to piss them off witch would have been a rather useless and childish attempt, or to get things sorted before serious matters.
So, the God of the Vors, the Beast of Vortex, Seleevan Khar stood before his jedi counterpart throwing spoonfulls of custard into the beak and loudly enjoying it with clicks and shmacks of thounge. It wasnt hard to know witch one was the jedi from all of these civilians. The force talent was one and surely he had his lightsaber dangling as a badge of honour.
"Greetings master jedi. I would shake your hand but I rather not touch, so accept my greeting by choosing freely from these asorted cakes. I assume the senator is waiting in the VIP lounge I have been hearing about?"
Brisk, deep voice but friendly. No hate or sour taste in his tone.
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Kel'Al Raganella
The Jedi Order - Corellian Jedi Academy
Posts: 530
Affiliation: Corellian Jedi Academy
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Kel'Al Raganella on Jan 23, 2014 21:03:00 GMT -8
If Jordan even noticed that the Vor were ignoring him, he didn't show it. The young Jedi had nowhere else to be today, and was in no hurry. This was an important assignment and he didn't care how long it took. He only cared about a favorable outcome. Bowing low, he smiled warmly as the bird-like sentient standing before him made quick word of a large bowl of custard. "Greetings, Lord Khar."
Sensing no deception, he politely took one of the offered cakes, and took a tiny bite. "Yes, the Senator will join us any moment now." He motioned behind him, into the private dining room, which offered a spectacular window view of the Coruscant skyline, and balsa-wood screens for visual privacy from the rest of the patrons. "Please, come, do have a seat. I trust the buffet is to your liking?"
His eyes flickered quickly from one guard to the next, then looked the giant Vor up and down, making note of each weapon he carried. He did not expect Khar to make a scene -- any get-away would be complicated -- but it never hurt to be prepared. Jordan knew he probably didn't stand a chance in a full-force, collective attack, but this was his home turf, and if he could react fast enough to extend the battle beyond any initial surprise onslaught, he'd be able to survive long enough to make continuing the assault a risky choice.
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Post by Vice-Chancellor Darma on Jan 27, 2014 20:20:46 GMT -8
Walking quickly towards the group, Darma pondered the recent events, and knew that he had better make the most of this meeting as he was likely to have many more like it in the future. He set aside his feelings and locked away his own opinions of those he met with today. He approached the group and nodded his head in respect, towards the man that he recognized from the holo vids as Lord Khar.
Greetings Lord Khar, I am Vice Chancellor Darma, how may I be of service to you? Please forgive my frankness, I have little time to spare these days, and I'm sure you have many places you'd rather be than here, so let's get this done with as quickly as possible, yes?
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Seleevan Khar
Adventists of the Eye
Posts: 161
Affiliation: House of Khar
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Post by Seleevan Khar on Jan 28, 2014 6:39:49 GMT -8
"Man of action. You could learn a lot from him."
The Sith Lord nodded towards the jedi with a wink. Tone was joking and amused, but could be misinterpreted as pun.
"Yes, let us."
He followed them to the VIP lounge area where conferences could also be held. And now comes the stupidity of the writer and the breaking of the fourth wall. What this person forgot to mention, were the two boxes that the vor guard had taken with them. They arent dangerous, just needed for theatrical purpouses anyways. So, as they entered, the Vor guard looked over the place while everyone took a seat, and Khar just stood by the table.
When the guard deemed the place safe, they took away all the chairs from Khars side. They placed the metal box down and activated it. Arms opened up, panels spread out, and soon the box revealed to be a metal seat, a mobile throne of shiny durasteel. A tall and lean creature like Khar needed a special seat. He wouldnt sit on these childs chairs that the humans use.
The second box was of wood, and was large... Was large enough to store something like... a head. (But that is just an example of course). Hand worked Vor art covered it showing a Large vor and a black figure fighting. The vor with a Blasterhook and shield, the black figure with a red sword of light. The different sides of the box told the story, and it ended with the dead dark figure, and a victorious Vor.
Seleevan Khar took a seat, and the vor guards placed all the cakes, spongecakes, pidings, mousses, milkshakes and cookies that Khar had chosen on the table, with three spoons for each. They also put up a small holo-projector and a holo-recorder. When they were done, the guard returned to their positions, one of them recording this historical event.
"I uphold a no touching policy, but instead of handhsakes, you are free to eat from my sortiment of desserts. Choose whichever you like.
And now. For business."
Khar Sat in an elevated position, more a more majestic and metallic throne. Metal is the element of cold and power. He had taken the initiative to serve food, and he was the one offering from his table like a host.
Feeding them from his hand, and he was talking downwards at the two negotiators. He took the prominent position in this meeting.
"Vortex wishes to join the republic."
Seated on his mobile throne, the Vor Sith Lord waited for the republic to respond.
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Post by Vice-Chancellor Darma on Jan 29, 2014 17:04:56 GMT -8
Silly me, didn't read the previous post sufficiently well, oh well. Darma sat at the table and waited patiently for the room to be set up to their visitor's specifications. The offer honestly was not entirely unexpected, though he hadn't come prepared to enter a new world into the republic. He was honestly tempted to sigh at the news, but he instead plaster a warm smile on his face and did his job.
Interesting, the last sith to join the republic, to my knowledge, became the Emperor Palpatine. So you'll have to forgive the suspicions that surface so readily, as I try to ignore the unreasonable ones. Tell me, what does Vortex expect to receive from the republic, and what is willing to pay for those benefits?
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Seleevan Khar
Adventists of the Eye
Posts: 161
Affiliation: House of Khar
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Post by Seleevan Khar on Jan 29, 2014 18:18:27 GMT -8
The sith lord listened to the man while decouring a chockolate cake slice. With human standards, the way the creature ate was disgusting. Throwing pieces of cake into the beak and smearing it all over the inside with the thick tounge. Still yumming on the last piece of cake sentenced with summery execution, he cleared his thoughts, and pleaded his case.
"Trade for one. Mutual trade of technology, culture, wealth and skill. No more, no less then any other member world. That in itself should be enough. Vortex is a peaceful world, with a thriving culture and good economy. Enough to be able to help out to less developed worlds in its proximity. It is well defended by several space stations and a strong militia, so keeping it wouldnt be hard neither.
The world itself is willing to embrace the Republic. The senate back home voted up the notion to contact the republic, and start negotiations. I volunteered myself for this task because I am familiar with the only bump on the road towards this goal. I see it every morning in the mirror.
There can never be a Vortex and Republic joining, if I do not settle with the republic and its battlepriests first.
Here is what I demand:
Peace with the Corellian Jedi Accademy, and the world of Corellia between the Vor Warhost. This includes mutual withdrawal of both military force and intelligence gathering operations.
Absolution from all supposed crimes you might have thought up for my capture. I dont have time for your Judical sistem.
The start of the long process witch ends in Vortex becoming a full member of the Republic. THis includes open borders, markets and sharing of Civilian Policing Intelligence.
A mutual pact of non aggression, Military, Catastrophe, and Economic Aid.
What I offer in return:
Intelligence on the mandalorian war.
Intelligence on Sith factions.
An intresting history lesson on above mentioned Emperor Palpatine.
And... well... a sizable fleet under my command.
And before we move on, I want you to understand one very important fact.
I am no sith."
Said the Sith Lord and leaned back.The Vor articulated with both bodylanguage and toning. If the Senator and the Jedi knew something about Vor, they would know that this is hightly unusual for a vor to be so... human in his mannerisms. A vor naturally seems emotionless because of the lack of just such things.
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Post by Vice-Chancellor Darma on Feb 3, 2014 16:33:15 GMT -8
Well, at least his demands were relatively reasonable, though the Corellian Academy might not think so. Darma decided to ply another thread for now.
Please forgive my limited experience with force users, but if you are not sith, and you are certainly no jedi, then what exactly are you and how do you differ from each?
Darma selected a small cream filled pastry to eat while the Vor answered him. Darma wasn't particularly familiar with the species, but the notes he'd read on the way over, indicated that this one was going well out of his way to communicate in a manner that was familiar to humans. Darma considered the demands laid out before him, the fact that they were demands was mildly irksome, but he hadn't asked for anything that any other world wouldn't have asked for, so it was really just a nuance in language at this point. Well, that and a conveyance that he expected to see these things done, as opposed to most merely hoping that they might be done.
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Seleevan Khar
Adventists of the Eye
Posts: 161
Affiliation: House of Khar
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Post by Seleevan Khar on Feb 6, 2014 9:16:27 GMT -8
"You should have prepeared for this meeting better then, Vice Cancellor Darma. Have that in mind next time."
Sel deemed this a bluff, so he gave word to it, scolding Darma.
"I am a warlord, and I use the force. I did operate with sith, but I was never one of them. Whatever I may say now will not change your picture the jedi have painted. You will have to make up your own mind about that, because I refrain from influencing your decision."
Khars eyes never left the Councilor. He wanted the jedi to feel like he is out of the discussion, not even there. He was testing the jedi-s famed patience.
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Post by Vice-Chancellor Darma on Feb 6, 2014 15:44:56 GMT -8
The being made a good point, Darma could have done better on the homework, but he had to many other things on his mind, things that didn't have any direct bearing on the deal at hand. So he considered the man's words and decided to utilize the Jedi at hand, not that he patently trusted the jedi or his judgment, but that was for another time and place. Darma looked to the jedi briefly as he addressed him before returning his attention to Sel.
What have you to say about all this?
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Seleevan Khar
Adventists of the Eye
Posts: 161
Affiliation: House of Khar
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Post by Seleevan Khar on Feb 26, 2014 9:06:21 GMT -8
"You can confer with the jedi all you want after this meeting, I did not expect a strait up answer. I am sure you have tons of red tape to cover."
He poured some wine into his beak and leaned back.
"Meanwhile, let me tell you a little story. I hope you can keep a secret, because this one you will want to keep close to the heart.
Palpatine built a lot of monstrosities while he enjoyed his position as ruler of the galaxy. After his death, many were spread out in the galaxy to wreak havoc on in the name of this Remnant faction or that Warlord. You know the history.
Now, lets get to details. The death Star. I hope you read up more on the faction I have been a part of. The Order of the Eye. I hope you read up better then you did your sith and jedi theology classes. The House of Khar was an appology gift to me from my late bretheren in the Eye, for a little complication they have caused."
A complication like executing Seleevan Khar. He held back a chuckle. He had always reguarded that scenario as a joke.
"But I am still part of the Eye. I am the only one left, but that is a different story."
Was it a lie? Who knows?
"So, if you would have read up on your military intelligence records reguarding the Council of the Eye, later changed to Order of the Eye, you would know that we had a fully powered Death Star, with witch we had taken most of the outer rim sectors and a lot of key asset sectors throughout the galaxy. Several fleets that had huge ammounts of military production to support them. Tons of money... and a Death Star.
Untill of course, our glorious leader didnt go fully mad and took it to the unknown regions. Maybe even a different galaxy. Who knows? Well, he never returned, and propably never will. We suddenly became a normal remnant faction with normal planets, like everyone else. No Death Star. I ask you rhetorically, why didnt someone even try to take a planet from our controll? Why were our position in the galaxy never challanged, aside from people who didnt know better and failed miserably?
Well, because Palpatine had many monstrosities built. Like... the Eye of Palpatine.
Guess what the Order of the Eye is named after."
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Post by Vice-Chancellor Darma on Mar 2, 2014 18:59:50 GMT -8
It took the Vice-Chancellor a few moments to piece together all the clues and minuscule factoids he'd picked up along the way. He remembered the Eye of Palpatine of course, but that had been destroyed some time ago. So why was there a rather bothersome niggling sensation at he back of his mind and general sense of unease spreading through him? Then he remembered a conversation with a friend he'd always found a little odd, but who had been a walking encyclopedia on all things military, from personal gear to super weapons, he'd said then that some believed there to be a second Eye of Palpatine, and had argued fairly persuasively, given that all of his evidence was circumstantial at best, that the rumor was very likely to be true. Being a natural skeptic and a young man then, Darma had thought little of it. Now, he was forced to at least accept the possibility of it's existence.
The once fearsome relic The Eye of Palpatine I suppose, but that has long since been destroyed. I wonder though, what service it might have provided the republic had it not been decimated? It's been a long time since the republic has had any kind of military worth shaking a fist at, I must admit it would be nice to have a car up my sleeve against these mandolorians...
The questions were not entirely rhetorical, though should the VC be questioned about them latter, that would be his answer. He was now motivated to see this man join the republic, if only to finally have a man of military might at hand to call to the republic's aid when needed.
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Seleevan Khar
Adventists of the Eye
Posts: 161
Affiliation: House of Khar
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Post by Seleevan Khar on Mar 3, 2014 9:40:47 GMT -8
He said it with great distaste and disappointment.
"No service. None at all.
We sent out three groups to it, after it was hidden. See, we knew it should be hidden, because of the stories of the first one. To make sure we were not opening an other box of insanity that palpatine had left behind, we sent out the first group. Scientists, engineers, soldiers, about hundred people. You would think that the most usefull data that came out of that was the scientific and engineering analisis but you would mistaken.
The science group psychic councilor gave the most insight. When the science leader went mad, he gathered a little circle of cultists and started executing people. He wanted the ship for himself see, to be the king of the galaxy himself. They slaughtered everyone and finally eachother, because they saw a rival in everyone. The last one bled to death from the wounds, lucky us.
The engineering analysis told us that the ship was... how shall I put it... indestructible. We ran simulations, and it could easily defeat three Super Star Destroyers and its complement of fleets. So, why didnt we use it to conquer the known galaxy?
The Psychic Councilors report gave up the problem. The good doctor had noted a change in his science group. There were increasing nightmares, halucinations... voices in the dark.
We knew we fucked up in the first place, so we got more careful. It was lucky the science group had killed eachother and didnt roam the galaxy with that nightmare of a ship. We set up a monitoring station and started using droids to analyse the ship, controlled remotely. We got more understanding from the ship that way. From afar, it is a promising enterprise, to learn how to use one of the ultimate warmachines in the galaxy.
Unfortunetley, we had to send a third group. Destroy and retrieve operation. The second group had found a way to controll the ship, and was about to launch it when our shock troops found them. They fought back, and were killed.
We understood then the curse Palpatine had laid on that ship. The others say its Dark Side magic, but I knew it before we sent the second group out. Its not a curse magic, its simple greed. Uninmaginable, powerfull greed. It made people insane. It made them a liability to every living creature in the galaxy.
We destroyed the records, we destroyed the data, we destroyed the people that knew anyhting of the ships position. What I have left from the Council of the eye is what you see on your sensors in space, and the burden of guarding the Eye of Palpatine, so nobody gets it.
A card I give you, but it will never be the Eye. I am a warlord Mr Darma, I have always been. I am a spiritual leader too, but I dont enjoy it as much as I enjoy war. I can enjoy it alongside you and yours, or against, or never see a republic flag in my life. But when I die, someone will have to take the burden of Guarding the Eye, or when it is found, nobody knows what horros it will bring."
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Post by Vice-Chancellor Darma on Mar 10, 2014 13:43:44 GMT -8
Well that made life interesting, Darma knew he wouldn't be able to use the super weapon even for the good of the republic, but he had considered piggybacking off of the weapon's use. Still, that was quite apparently out of the question, so Darma moved on. The republic would still finally have a being who knew war, and what it meant to wage it, within it's ranks. Unfortunately democracy favored the majority over the minority, which could minimize his effectiveness. Darma would have to work on that possibility, and come up with some ways to get around the more likely objections; but all that would have to come later.
Very well, I cannot meet your first demand, Peace with the Corellian Jedi Accademy, and the world of Corellia between the Vor Warhost, as I do not have jurisdiction over the jedi, and this a republic not an empire, so dictating a course of action to our members is not something that I can do. The other's I can and will gladly see to immediately, and I will continue to work with you in mediating a peace between the Vor Warhost and Corellia and it's Jedi Academy. And I accept your offers in return for these negotiations and demands with pleasure. Is this sufficient for you?
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Seleevan Khar
Adventists of the Eye
Posts: 161
Affiliation: House of Khar
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Post by Seleevan Khar on Mar 18, 2014 13:07:04 GMT -8
"For now, Yes. I am sure you have to run this by some board or a committee. I will communicate with the Vortex senate. But do not mistaken. I want it on paper, signed, with a nice big stamp. And a Parade. All happy endings should have a parade.
Let me and the jedi deal with our little missunderstanding, and this will be a new era for Vortex, and the Vor people."
He toasted towards the Vice Chancellor and drank the wine untill he saw the bottom of the glass.
"As for where we go from there, lets decide it at a later date. We have a lot of trust to earn, all of us."
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Post by Vice-Chancellor Darma on Mar 19, 2014 12:24:59 GMT -8
Darma, smiled and returned the toast, though he only sipped his drink. It was nice to have another member of the republic interested in securing it's borders. He made a note on his data-pad to bring this before the senate's attention at it's next session.
You speak truth, this treaty must be approved by the senate before it is binding on the republic, but that will happen soon enough, and I think we can get it passed easily enough. I look forward to working with you and your people in the near future. Until we meet again, may good fortune smile upon you.
Darma rose and gathered his possessions, he had his work cut out for him. There was this, Ryloth, and then there was the new Empire setting it's self up to begin imposing itself and throwing it's weight around in the political arena. many systems had already left the republic, most of them had been little more than parasites anyway, but a few of them had been worlds that had been forced to uphold the brunt of the republic's needs for to long because no one else would stand in the gap. Those worlds would be missed, but Darma could not fault them for their decision to find their own way through the stars.
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Alpharius
Member
Posts: 400
Affiliation: The Rebel Alliance
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Alpharius on Mar 23, 2014 17:21:19 GMT -8
There was nothing more exhilarating than the thrill of the hunt upon a world fraught with danger. The assassin had found himself on this world once before, dealing death to a man that interfered with the benevolent progress of a Republic Senator. Had this man, her betrothed, continued to live; his corruption would have spread. He lived a life confounded by opulence and excess, finding solace in the pleasures of drink and flesh, thus the tendrils of his darkness would have spread to the noble pursuits of his virtuous wife. She would have been affected by the chaotic downfall of her forlorn lover, finding her noble works tossed to the wind when the decadent Republic had finally revealed the truth. However, as an agent of the Syndicate, the assassin had rid the taint of that man’s existence from the face of the galaxy – stopping the darkness from festering within this Senator’s family - leaving her free to pursue her goals of bringing order and prosperity to the city world of Coruscant. However in his flight from capture, because the blinded mortals of this plane see little than the opulent lies before their very eyes, the sniper had been labeled as a murderer. Though the title was sound for the wet work he practiced, it was earned twice over in the heat of battle. Innocent men with families of their own were slain by his hand – ensuring a crusade of penitence across the galaxy to purify his mortal shell of its guilt. Despite the slate being scoured clean, the past resonated with his loss of control. Coruscant had listed him on their most wanted list; keeping a weather eye upon the horizon should he ever return. So, in their precautions the danger laid, for his assignment required the utmost secrecy – a test of his loyalty to the Syndicate and of his abilities to walk unseen. For where he was headed, none would know he was doing them a service; saving them from a galaxy drowned in tides of blood or bereft of harmonies light.
Infiltrating the Republic capital was not as easy this time around, for every path he had attempted before there were eyes watching. The last time he had come to this world, the doors to the fortress were left unbarred and unguarded; now they were closed to him. The assassin would not find this task to be simple; there was more to it than that in this eternal battle against the enemies of balance. Armed soldiers walked throughout the streets, gathering men and women whom hailed from certain worlds into their clutches, seeking answers they couldn’t give. Anyone who was not registered with the orbital traffic control boards or the Republic thereafter was considered suspect and flagged for interrogation. A heavy handed response to the rise of a resurgent Empire under the banners of a Sith Lord, but the assassin understood the very reasons why such an act was undertaken. The safety and security of the festering heart of the Republic came before everything else, ensuring that the lie of democracy lived on while the galaxy surrounding the centre of the civilized world crumbled under the New Galactic Order. The assassin knew that he would be there end in time, but before his beloved rifle had sung her tune there had to be balance. In the absence of the corrupted institution of the Republic, the Empire would blossom, bringing with it the falsity of freedom in the promises of peace through enforced order. Cyclic methods that skirted around the issues of truth, but were ideological in their design thus the man could not fault the mind for chasing after a fading dream. However, that did not excuse the methods in which such fantasies would be sought. The primordial annihilator fed upon the darkness of man, revelling in the sentient destruction of all things brought to life under the guidance of the primordial creator. Thus in the pursuit of a single galaxy under the banner of one woman obsessed by the dreams of power, the primordial annihilator would find the balance forever tipped in his favour. When the forces of chaos and discord have finally won, there would be nothing left of the creators work. All the changes he had wrought within the pools of our forefather’s genus would be for nothing – leaving nothing but the ashes of the past and silence echoing behind the unseen banners of the destroyer’s crusade.
The Syndicate had foreseen this doom that awaits all sentient life, and have strived to prevent the ever patient annihilator from assuming direct control of the galaxy, and therefore existence itself. They had many names throughout the history of man, living off in the shadows leaving little trace of their origin behind as they plucked the strings of balance – preserving the unwritten law of the universe the only way they knew how. Utilizing the precise application of force, the organization had rid the galaxy of many threats – using the very chaos their targets employed to garner a foothold within their factions, ending their lives with a blade or bolt and extracting before any had known of their involvement. A whispered word had proven to be just as effective as a sharpened knife, turning the factions in upon themselves to collapse so ruthlessly that they never rose again. The ancient Sith Empires and the overzealous Republic forces, none had escaped the wrath of balance. The assassin laughed at the folly of such thoughts, that the Syndicate; paragons of such balance and harmony, were clouded by the use of such tools against the forces of darkness. To defeat the Annihilator, we must use his weapons against him – for only then when nothing but the servants of balance and the creator remain- then we will truly know the meaning of peace. Alpharius actually laughed when his handler had preached those very same words to him, enforcing the ideals of the shadowed organization through the secret desires traced beneath the flesh. They believed themselves to be champions of purity, that their light extinguished all others. The assassin cared not that they dwelled within the clouds of their dreams, as long as he was content that was all that mattered. What brought about the sensation of happiness within his breast was nothing short of the hunt – the thrill the surged through his veins when his prey sought to deny destiny itself and survive. However, upon the world of Coruscant; Alpharius would find himself chasing after an object, one that would lead the Jedi to the secrets of their past. They had to be denied access to the place the map would lead, for the secrets of such a vault should forever be forgotten to the vagaries of antiquity. All but one marker had been destroyed, leaving only this unknown object to slip through the Syndicates fingers. This made the job all the harder, as sentience made the hunt more enjoyable – a lifeless thing would prove to be a lusterless task, one he was sure to loathe with every fibre of his being.
Biting back the wave of apprehension seeking to swathe his nerves in their fire, the assassin padded silently through the cargo hold. He had taken aboard this inbound freighter upon the filth stained world of Nar Shaddaa, leaving behind much of his worldly possessions in the attempt to make his mission here all the less demanding. It had been a simple matter to don the guise of a deckhand, shrouding his figure and the beloved rifle in coveralls and various partitioned sections of a recently procured kit. Alpharius hated environments he had little control over, for there were too many variables for his mind and that of the suit, to keep track of. He liked the solidity of stone and dirt beneath his feet, not the weightless nothing of the void. Breathing in a heady mix of recycled oxygen gas and the smell of his environment about him, the assassin cleared his clouded mind of anxiety. It was always like this, even before he had donned the suit and taken the only name he would ever need. Alpharius was a man of action, and the enforced stagnation of silence was rotting him from the inside out. The man needed to do something other than blend in with the crowd; he needed to stalk the streets of the concrete jungle in the pursuit of something. That was how he would clear his mind, by becoming the shadow of another and walking in the darkness, unseen and unremembered. Yet, as he was trapped within the metal hulk of this oppressive starship, his mind never would truly be free of such uncertainties. So, the assassin had chosen to meditate upon his course of action; a deed that had been left over from his previous life – one that he could never truly shake ever since he had donned the suit. Placing himself upon the cold exterior of the metallic decking with his legs crossed over one another, Alpharius reflected upon the various strands of fate that were arrayed before him. However, as his mind began to delve into the mysteries of the mystical field surroundings all things, the freighter he stowed away upon dropped from hyperspace – a small pulse at the back of his mind had alerted him to the vessels deceleration from the realm of madness and impossibilities. Opening his eyes and rousing himself from the deck, the assassin let a small smirk cross his lips. Coruscant awaited him from behind this hulking cage, and soon he would partake in the most dangerous and spite filled hunt of his mortal lifetime.
The cargo hauler had touched down after spending several agonizing hours in orbit of the Republic Capital, undergoing various and through searches in the vain attempt to find any Imperial aligned spies. The rise of this new Empire had given the Republic cause enough to justify searching every vessel coming in and out of the system, making sure that any and all cargo manifests matched which what was in the physical realm. Lists upon lists of passengers were registered within the Coruscant Security databases and dataslates, something that would be used in the future should the word of the law need to be enforced. Dozens of vessels were towed aside for such tedious of tasks; however the freighter that housed more than just organic goods, the vessel had gone relatively untouched by foreign hands. Searches were conducted as instructed, but they had found nothing out of the ordinary. When they had reached the cargo hold however, they had made note a mechanic working on the stasis field generators for the organic produce. They had questioned him as to why he had not shown up on the hangar deck as the C-Sec detachment had requested, only to get verbally berated in return. The assassin, wearing the masque of a technician, had told the Security officers that there had been a minor malfunction on several of the cargo pods – that if they went maintained the food within would spoil. Coruscani kids would be forced to go hungry in the face of such rigid requirements of enforcement, and the mechanic would never bear such a burden; even if it meant being disrespectful of the law. Finding the man’s answer acceptable enough to warrant no further suspicion, they had left the man to his duties.
As they had passed onto another portion of the compartment, Alpharius had undone the damage he had wrought – leaving the cargo bay in its thrumming silence. Making his way through the hauler’s enclosed corridors; the assassin began working his way towards the exterior access hatch in preparation for descent. Without the proper identification papers, the assassin would be stopped almost as soon as the ramp had been lowered. He needed to shed the disguise of a menial labourer and done the masque of another man – ensuring that his anonymity was retained while being able to fleshwalk in another’s shoes. Exhaling silently, the assassin engaged his cloaking device with but a thought; letting his overall clad form pixelate into the folds of an invisible shroud. The Republic security would know if he left the ship under the effects of a cloaking device, for he had seen the machines the last time he was here and watched them nab a Consortium thug from out of thin air. Donning another personality was the best route to avoid arousing any concern, leaving him free and unburdened by the gaze of this system’s authorities. Blending in with the shadows of the underhanging trusses, the assassin carefully padded his way towards the crew compartments – dodging the lingering enforcement patrols with feline grace as they proceeded towards the disembarkation ramp. Passing through the opened access hatch, the assassin quickly assessed his surroundings. Rows upon rows of steel bunks were bolted to the walls, providing him little room in which to maneuver should a fight break out, but giving him oh so many options in which to sleuth around in search of the data he requires. Having all shifts out of the crew barracks was an unseen boon to the assassin, meaning that no one save himself would ever question a tool box being out of place. Placing the kit down upon one of the unmade bunks, the assassin began extracting the pieces of his rifle. He wouldn’t be able to walk through the spaceport with such a massive rifle drawn across his back, for to do that he would have to have clearance with the Republic Military and the Port Authorities. However, the transport he had stowed aboard had only one man with such privileges – a man by the name of Davik Luther. He was a Republic contracted Mercenary that had been disposed of during the flight through hyperspace, the segmented pieces of his looted corpse was now incinerated at one of the many orbital trash collection points. The hot-headed man’s very essence would be repurposed into various materials, delivering him into the welcome arms of the very men that hated him with a passion.
Taking the very keycard he had looted from the man, Alpharius palmed open the recently deceased’s footlocker and marvelled at its contents. Returning to the visible spectrum by deactivating his cloak, the assassin began to strip himself of the woven coveralls and don the Mercenaries warplate. It was an amalgamation of durasteel and plasteel plates magnetically sealed to his black under suit, bulking up his masculine appearance by the addition of such crude armour. While the assassin instantly desired to be without the armour, it was required for him to sell the personality he had now adorned. Davik was a man that was hated by many people for all his chaotic and underhanded dealings, thus it was in his file that he always traversed the stars in his armour should the worst occur. Slipping the oversized helmet over top his assassin’s attire, Alpharius had become the hated mercenary Davik Luther – whose contract had finally finished with the Captain of the Cargo Hauler and was now at liberty to depart the vessel. Piecing together his sniper rifle and slinging it over his shoulder like the crude Soldier of Fortune he had become, the now former assassin took his leave of the vessel; abstaining from offering up a parting farewell to the man that ensured his safe journey across the ocean of stars. Entering the starport had proven to be much easier when his Ident cards and weapon license checked out against the data loaded into the local superservers, meaning that the assassin could now proceed through the arrival gates and into the Galactic City thereafter. Before his task here would begin, however, Alpharius would have to meet with his handler to garner yet another disguise and the information his organization had withheld about the object he was tasked to steal. Thus, when the doors had parted to lead the armour clad mercenary into the city transfer point; the assassin took a shuttlebus into the underdark of the planet’s hive like surface. There he would find himself stalking through the tidal surge of flesh and metal in search of the Outlander Club…
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Kel'Al Raganella
The Jedi Order - Corellian Jedi Academy
Posts: 530
Affiliation: Corellian Jedi Academy
Traffic Light: Orange
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Post by Kel'Al Raganella on Mar 30, 2014 21:22:03 GMT -8
Dariis Tower, Level 2178=Jordan Halcyon=In spite of the Vor Lord's dig about learning a lesson from a man of action like Darma, Jordan found it more appropriate to sit back for the moment, and let the Vice Chancellor take the lead on the discussions. Someone who didn't know the young Jedi Knight might have thought that he was intimidated by being the third party in such a high-level meeting, but confidence had never been a weakness for him. Quite the opposite, in fact, and it was only from the late Master Windoo's last lesson in patience that he had finally learned to check that enthusiasm with proper Jedi patience. Jordan knew that the Jedi would never approve of Vortex joining the Republic while Khar yet rules it. He had seen the reports on Master Raganella's mission to Vortex, and the extraction of the war prisoners. The Vor had put on a good show, and he might even be genuine in seeking peace, but he was definitely still a Sith and a murderor, so far as he was concerned. But Khar's request was the Republic's problem. The Jedi had no vote in the matter, and Jordan could save his personal opinion for later. Besides, there was a prohibition on Sith in the Republic Charter. Darma could handle this one. In fact, the only question Darma couldn't handle on his own was the question of peace with the Corellian Academy, and the young Jedi Knight was about to open his mouth to provide some clarity on that subject, when the Vor suddenly began a storytelling session. Jordan shut his jaw and leaned back again, sampling from the fare laid before them as he let Khar talk. It was always good to get a potential enemy talking. You could learn a lot from him, whether it be his tactics and weaknesses, or ways in which to empathize with him and prevent further bloodshed."Let me and the jedi deal with our little missunderstanding, and this will be a new era for Vortex, and the Vor people." "I do not believe this situation needs to be as complicated as you make it, Lord Khar. We are Jedi, and we do not seek revenge. If you or the forces under your command put the lives or well-being of innocent civilians in danger, or if you attempt to undermine the Republic government, then we will act against you. But we do not continue wars our of spite or out of a need achieve total victory." He spread his hands. "If you are abandoning any further conflict with us, then we will respect that, and we have no further quarrel with you." But they would be watching him even more closely, now that he had made overtures to the Republic. The Jedi knew something was up. But what was it? A trap? An attempt to destroy the Republic? Or were they just pawns in a larger plan, such as the Mandalorian War? He needed answers. The Republic was going to want the Jedi's assessment of whether Khar was a Sith or not.
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