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Clare Velez
Orrion Carn


Joined: 15 Sep 2009
Posts: 223
Location: Aboard The Killer's Fate II

 Post Posted: Sat, August 21st 2010 01:01am    Post subject:
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Clare sat on the ground, stunned as she realized that Kyle Fenris, was a Jedi, a Jedi who had saved her from death and gave her another chance to live and find Badim. She had watched him battle and deflect blaster bolts of every shade available, watching as mutilated corpses and dismembered limbs fell to the ground. Clare had never seen a Jedi fight before, aside from brief glimpses of Lucas and Kyp, and even then it was brief and she was too concentrated on shooting combatants to really care.
But after seeing the lethality, grace and might of The Force and a Jedi’s lightsaber, she was glad Kyle wasn’t a nefarious Sith she had only briefly heard about.

Kyle landed next to her, looking over the battle that had been won so far, “We must leave, now.” He said as he offered a hand to her. She nodded and began to reach for it, though shock of almost dying was still in her and she couldn’t make the last few inches and—Her hand was gently jerked forward as she felt lifted with an invisible set of hands, like a chair suddenly uprooting her and lifting her to her feet, “That was…An interesting feeling.” she replied as she dusted some of the dirt off her pants and rear, “Where to?”

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Kyle Fenris
Cheapy


Joined: 24 Jun 2010
Posts: 125
Location: Elementary, my dear Watson

 Post Posted: Wed, August 25th 2010 09:20pm    Post subject:
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“The hangar,” Kyle said. He glanced around to make sure no one was injured, apart from him. Clare and Upari were untouched, miraculously. Jevan had suffered a slight burn on his shoulder from a blaster crease during the firefight, but aside from him and the beaten Mon Calamari everyone was still in good shape. Kyle turned, grimacing slightly as the pain of his wounded legs returned to him. When this was over, he would need a healing trance at the least. “Follow me.”

The bodies of Sarta’s rear guard were still smoking from their wounds as the group picked their way across the throne room. Kyle held up a hand to halt the group and passed a hand over a seemingly empty section of wall next to the entrance corridor. There was a small click from inside the duracrete, and a small control slid open at about chest height. Kyle rapidly tapped out a stream of numbers on the keypad, and from the corridor beyond came several diminishing whines from within the walls.

“What was that about?” Jevan asked, arching a thick eyebrow.

Kyle continued into the hallway, pointing at various spots on the ceiling and walls as he did so. Everyone else fell in behind him. “Automated blasters were installed in the corridor. Sarta spent a small fortune ensuring any assault on his palace would prove to be costly for anything short of a planetary militia.”

“How’d you get the codes to shut them off?” Upari said. Kyle could feel his curiosity heighten, followed by his suspicion…although in the moments since Kyle had revealed that he was a Jedi, that suspicion had tapered off to almost nothing.

“I found the technician who installed them and persuaded him to share them with me some time ago.”

“‘Persuaded?’” Upari echoed.

“He wasn’t harmed,” Kyle assured him. “I merely showed him the inherent dangers of working for a being such as Sarta. In gratitude, he gave me the codes.”

The corridor, as he had explained earlier, branched off into two separate, smaller passageways after a few moments of anxious silence. The sounds of blasterfire and the occasional explosion continued to rumble in the distance…and now that they were closer, they could also hear the dying screams of both Sarta’s and Trekgo’s men.

“Sounds like your ‘plan’ is working, Jedi,” Upari said, his words laced with equal parts grudging admiration and accusation. “A lot of sentients are dying out there.”

Kyle didn’t answer as they moved down the left passageway. Not far from the fork was a set of durasteel blast doors, covered with a large circular locking mechanism. Upari and Jevan moved to flank the doors’ aperture while Clare ushered the others to the side. Kyle planted his feet in a wide stance in front of the blast doors and ignited his lightsaber. He could feel several presences on the other side, their minds heavy with malice and anticipation.

Calling upon the Force to enhance his strength, he plunged the plasma blade into the center of the lock.

As soon as the blade passed through the other side, a flurry of emotions jolted the minds of the would-be ambushers. Fear and surprise were dominant in all of them, aside from one…whose anticipation and bloodlust only increased at the sight of the lightsaber. Unable to recognize who the apparent leader of the group was, Kyle redirected his attention back to his saber.

The durasteel resisted for a moment before its surface began to heat up. The area around the blade’s point of contact began to glow red and melt before everyone’s eyes. When the metal was weak enough, Kyle dragged the blade up, through the first catch between the doors, then the second…

When he reached the third, the doors groaned and began grinding open.

Kyle took a large step back and settled into a ready stance for Ataru, his preferred form of lightsaber combat. With his injured legs his mobility would be somewhat limited, but he would be able to draw upon the Force to compensate somewhat. Upari and Jevan tightened their grips on their rifles, and Clare had drawn hers from the holster she had appropriated from one of the dead guards. She pointed it at the center of the doors, her mind slipping back into the instincts she had adopted through a lifetime of training and killing.

The doors finished opening, and Kyle's eyes narrowed.

“Well I’ll be damned,” Krant rumbled as he stood in the center of the hangar bay. A vibroblade, most likely cortosis-laced, hung loosely from one of his hands. Over half a dozen of Sarta’s men surrounded him, their blasters aimed squarely at Kyle. “I knew you were bad news the first time I laid eyes on you,” Krant continued, twirling the sword in his hands like a professional, “but I never pegged you for a kriffing Jedi, Fenris.”

Kyle spread his hands apart with a casualness he did not feel. “Deception often takes root in one’s appearance, Krant.”

The Feeorin spat on the scuffed floor and snarled. “I always hated your pretty words, Fenris. I think I’ll cut out your tongue when I’m done with you and your gang, just so that I can have the satisfaction of seeing you speechless before you die.” He waved his free hand through the air in front of him dismissively. “Kill’em.”

The thugs opened fire, and Kyle began batting back their bolts. Krant watched with growing admiration as Kyle redirected bolts from hitting him or his allies, and even sent several of them back at their shooters. Four men died from burning craters in their torsos, and the rest ceased fire as Krant held up a hand. “Impressive, saber-jockey,” the former chief of the Bloodreavers said. “I’ll deal with you myself.”

Kyle raised his lightsaber and charged into the hangar, seizing the initiative. He parried Krant’s first attack, an overhead power swing meant to force him back a step or two. Sparks met as the blades clashed, but Kyle held his ground and slid the tip of Krant’s blade away from him, setting him slightly off-balance. The Feeorin staggered, giving Kyle an opening to lunge forward at his opponent’s chest–or so he thought. Krant halted his feint and whipped his own sword through a flourish that would have taken Kyle’s head off, had he not anticipated and bent backwards. The edge of the sword narrowly avoided his nose, and he watched in morbid fascination as it sliced off a few strands of his brown and gray hair.

He turned his dodge into a backflip, catching Krant in the jaw with the heel of his boot as he did so. He was aware that Clare and the others were exchanging fire with Sarta’s thugs, but he was too engrossed in his own duel to grant them assistance. Krant was good, at least by a non-Force user’s standards. Kyle had heard that Feeorins only grew stronger as they aged, rather than the reverse. If that was so, then Krant had to be several decades old, at least. Kyle considered himself an excellent duelist and fighter, given his background…and he had found a challenge in Krant.

Shifting his grip on his saber, he parried another blow and attacked again.

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Clare Velez
Orrion Carn


Joined: 15 Sep 2009
Posts: 223
Location: Aboard The Killer's Fate II

 Post Posted: Thu, August 26th 2010 04:11am    Post subject:
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Clare briefly watched Kyle duel with Krant, the Feeorin who was at an even skill level with their Jedi ally due to his injury. The emerald and cortosis blades impacting and sparking as they sparred and parried against each other in a way she couldn’t comprehend. She’d never seen a Jedi fight in melee combat, having only seen Kyp or Lucas deflecting blaster bolts. She felt as though with this inevitable war with Zend’s return, and the Empire’s likeness of Sith in the past, she was going to see a lot more Jedi and Sith, or cortosis wielding Imps, in the future.

A blaster bolt singed past her head as she ducked back into cover, her years of training as a mercenary and assassin for Candrog had become a part of her, and it quickly became her herself. Her life revolved around killing and she longed for the senseless killing to stop and for peace to reign. She had gotten her wish when she rebuked Candrog and gained Badim’s trust and love. As the blaster bolts soared and impacted the cover she was behind, she couldn’t help but comprehend how she felt about Badim. Love was too weak of a word for how she felt, how determined she was to get back to him.
She loved him dearly, but it wasn’t a word she should be using lightly. Her heart would always skip a beat when he caressed her cheek. Her body would shudder in pleasure with his arms around her. Her eyes would silently water at the thought of losing him at the hands of Nico. Or having already lost him to the man who destroyed him.

She missed the warmth of his body pressed against hers when his arm were around her. Their lips passionately locked wherever they were. It was the longing for that passionate kiss that she had been without for two weeks that kept her going, to find Badim at any cost.
She couldn’t find any other word to express how she felt, except madly in love with the man she once tried to kill, but didn’t.

Her head snapped back into action as a bright red line of plasma came close to her face and made her cheek briefly burn from it’s heat. She got to a crouch from behind the corner, then leaned out quickly and blasted the head of one of Sarta’s men expertly, his body freezing and then falling backwards from the hole in his forehead. She glanced over to Jevan, his shots were wild and inaccurate. Though he did get the random kill or two. She bit her lip and leaned out again from her cover, another guard quickly falling as Kyle continued to parry with the Feeorin.

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Coral Callatros
Alex


Joined: 02 Aug 2009
Posts: 88

 Post Posted: Thu, August 26th 2010 05:21am    Post subject:
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Nico's Safehouse - The Pemblehov District - Talos Spaceport




The Republic shuttle dropped from hyperspace, the planetary orb of Atzerri appearing in front of her. The NRI had already cleared her shuttle, and progress was quickly made, she had been able to land just outside the Pemblehov District. Changing out of her uniform, Coral slipped into something a little more appropriate for the slum zone she was about to visit. The computer systems had traced the information leak, and it was being routed manually somewhere else, but it was coming from here. On Atzerri.

Who, or what, ever was routing the information, knew where Vera Nico would be. Instead of arriving at crime scenes, Coral could finally be able to stop a dramatic show before it even took place. The intel droids locked the ship down, before powering down for hibernation. One of the brutes would remain active, to guard or initiate secondary protocols. In the event of a shuttle take over, it would rig and delete all information, before activating a self-destruct mechanism. The intelligence world thrived on paranoia.

The district was lined with the lower class, of all ages and species. Even some considered, at least by most worlds, children. Young girls were offering anything to the men who passed by, and the boys glazed over from spice injections and other toxic materials gave her a lazy nod. A large man stepped in front of her path, her data padd had no doubt attracted his attention. It would be enough to sell for a score. "Hand that over, and I let you walk outta this alive." The man was holding a dagger, his hair rugged and soiled with bacteria and grime. What teeth were not missing, were permanently stained yellow or chipped from the many fights his type of lifestyle encouraged. His eyes lacked empathy, if she resisted, he'd beat her into a lifeless corpse and take the padd any ways.

She keyed a tracking beacon, memorizing the location of Nico's safehouse, before handing the device over. She put on her best show, begging the man to let her go. He obliged, clearly won over by the prospect of selling the data padd for several deathsticks. Coral was left to finish her journey in peace, it was late in the night, and most had already settled into vicious hangovers. Nico's safehouse came into sight, it was behind a restaurant, owned by a couple of a old-timers that looked like they had seen their fair share of street-wars.

Coral scanned the perimeter. No one in sight. Removing her blaster, she clicked the entry-padd....

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Kyle Fenris
Cheapy


Joined: 24 Jun 2010
Posts: 125
Location: Elementary, my dear Watson

 Post Posted: Mon, September 06th 2010 11:23pm    Post subject:
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This, Kyle thought to himself as he dueled with Krant, could be going better.

The protracted duel with the pirate lord was taking its toll on him; his legs and lower back were on fire with pain, and his skin was beginning to heat up from all of the Force energy he was pulling through him just to keep himself going. If he kept this up, there would be serious physical consequences for him, even if he won. The Force was not intended to be diverted or dammed, like the current of a river. It fought, it resisted, it etched away at him even as he wielded it.

I have to end this now.

Sliding away from another of Krant’s power swings, Kyle gathered himself and shoved out with the Force. Krant grunted as he was forced back a step, but he planted his feet and snarled in the face of the Force blast. His tentacle-like headtails whipped behind him as if in a storm. Kyle kept up the onslaught, doubling his efforts. His skin crackled and glowed a faint gold, and his fingertips tingled. Krant was hurled fifteen meters across the hangar floor, his vibroblade clattering to the ground halfway between them. He slammed into the lower hull of the freighter docked in the bay and bounced away, landing hard.

Before he could rise, Kyle charged forward, his lightsaber held low and away from him. He tried to channel the weight of his charge into a slash against Krant’s shoulder, but the Feeorin reached up and blocked the blow with his forearm. For a moment, they were locked in place, both of their faces frozen as each tried to overpower the other. Kyle felt his strength leave him, and he was no longer able to maintain the raw flow of Force energy through his body. The glow of his skin vanished.

Krant stood, pushing Kyle back with sheer force. He shoved out with his blocking arm, putting the Jedi off balance, and reached forward suddenly to grab a handful of his coat. Before Kyle could strike at his other arm Krant heaved, sending him slamming into the same spot on the freighter’s hull that Krant had hit moments ago. The wind rushed out of Kyle with the impact, and his lightsaber fell to the ground.

Krant flexed the fingers of his smoking forearm, and the nearly-severed sleeve fell away. A black and gray gauntlet covered the offending hand beneath it, its surface barely marred by the lightsaber’s blade. “Mandalorian crushgaunts,” he said proudly. “Nice for breaking people’s necks…and stopping Jedi.” He grinned, his blue lips peeling back to reveal sharpened canines. “Ready to die, Fenris?”

Kyle’s feet were dangling several centimeters off of the ground as Krant held him against the ship. His every breath was labored, and he had no strength left to fight the Feeorin. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Clare and Upari rush forward from the hangar entrance, having blasted the last of Sarta’s guards. Clare’s eyes widened as she saw Krant draw the blaster at his hip and jam it into Kyle’s stomach. “No final words, Jedi?” Krant said mockingly. “Not even a witty joke?”

Kyle used the last of his strength to reach out through the Force. Not to shove Krant away…but to pull something towards the two of them. “Beautiful…sword…”

Krant frowned, uncomprehending.

Shik.

He jerked abruptly, his eyes widening in pain and shock. The armored fingers of his right hand released their grip on Kyle’s collar, and the Jedi fell to his knees. Krant’s blaster likewise clattered to his feet as he glanced down to see the tip of his own vibroblade poking out of his chest. He reached behind his back feebly, as if he couldn’t believe he had just been impaled by his own sword, before collapsing to one side in a heap.

Kyle more felt than heard Clare run across the hangar deck and drop to her knees in front of him. Her words were muffled, as if he was hearing them through a closed door, but he could detect the concern that laced them. He managed to lift a hand to her face and brush away a stray lock of her hair. “I’m afraid…you’ll need to hire…another pilot, my dear…”

For the second time in an hour Kyle drifted into unconsciousness, and he slumped forward into Clare’s arms.

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Kyle Fenris - Jedi Master, Gray Jedi


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Thomas Heckler
Butters


Joined: 07 Jul 2010
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Location: Not where you think... aboard the Elusive!

 Post Posted: Sat, September 11th 2010 12:19am    Post subject:
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While he had his reservations about the Jedi, he did give him his credit. He had a good grasp of how to fight with his hands. Upari tried to stand back while he fought the Feeorin, Krant. He caught the name before they engaged each other. The other former prisoners took care of the men in the room. The only parallel in grace and finesse was his father. It reminded him of his mentor and he could never get the upper hand in a duel with either. His mentor had an amazing backstroke, which he noticed Kyle would use to block bolts sending them behind him. With amazing ease he flexed the blade into a blinding flurry.

http://www.youtube.com/watch?v=-GsIYPn9pYI&feature=related - start around 3:30


Training snapped into the rest of them, especially he and his officers, Clare seemed to know what she was doing, he didn't pay much attention to them as Kyle began to move across the room. He had a strange aura that he didn't notice before and with each bolt they were cast off. They would singe flesh and their clothing, maim others even permanently severing limbs or killing them out right, blasting a hole in their skulls or torsos. They kept suppressing fire on the few that remained still effective, covering Kyle from the blots he couldn't doge or block. Upari could only see him pursue Krant into the main hangar, presumably according to Kyle where there getaway ship would be, and out of the maintenance bay where both sides took refuge behind makeshift barricades from the equipment near them. "Focus fire on the row of plasteel barrels, there is three of them there!" He jumped up out of his crouching stance to get a better look out over the crossfire before diving back down from the fire he drew.

"There, there, alright, they certainly aren’t professionals. OK, Huutac, flank'em from the left. I'll take the right with Jevan. While Clare and Tresbrac provide the covering fire, give us enough time to get to the sides." Clare seemed skeptical. "Why is Huutac going to take the flank alone?" When Upari turned to make a snarky remark he noticed in the corner of his eye a bogey moving on their flank, he turned, firing toward the approaching man. Just then Tresbrac fired, hitting him in the leg, incapacitating him. He withered on the ground, grabbing for his blaster. He fired erratically, trying to hit them behind their barricade. Upari finished him with a single shot to the head. He looked back at Clare with a sarcastic grin and then back at Huutac, "Yeah, you sure you can handle that big guy? Seems like the lady has a soft spot for you." She looked flustered, while Huutac snarled. "You'll are no fun, now get going! I'm running low on ammunition.” He fired back toward the barrels. He glanced toward Clare and Tresbrac, “Give me some suppressing fire!" He launched up, popping off two blots, running toward a computer bank to his right.

They snapped into action, while Clare seemed still distracted. She definitely wasn't a soldier, but was a bounty hunter and still knew when it wasn't personal, but business. To survive, listening was expected. "There are two maybe three on our side. We'll have to neutralize them!" He tried to yell to Jevan over the pitch of blaster fire. "Whatever you say man, let’s just get this over with." He noticed the sweat dripping from his forehead and blood dripping from a wound on his arm. "You should get that looked at," "And you might want to take care of your leg to." He hadn't noticed, but during his push, he had been shot, singeing his pant leg and leaving a gash. He took off his belt, wrapping it around his leg just before the wound. He ripped off the rest of his pants and wrapped it around the cauterized wound. "Bastard. That is some kind of a scratch. You stay, suppress them while I get on the move," Jevan looked at his leg again and back up to Upari.

"You're crazy," "Thanks," He jumped out. Firing wildly at the guys arrayed behind the barrels he sniped one, firing a bolt through his head, he focused on the man in front while he noticed in his peripheral to see Huutac take the same initiative. He jumped forward, knocking the man with his blaster. He pushed back with his weapon and they fought for a brief moment, struggling to hold him down, but Upari snapped back hitting him with the butt of his rifle. He disoriented him and fired back hitting him in the chest.

"Getting soft," Huutac sadistically grinned, his whiskers twitching with drops of blood from his prey, "Upari..." He hissed sinisterly. Trianii were a dark people, driven selfishly, few would ever leave their home world unless forced. Huutac seemed driven by mortal combat. He liked to know he would be the cause of his own death if it ever came to it, it must have been a matter of control. Upari moved his attention, surveying the dead bodies and struggling few who survived, most without appendages. He snapped back to Kyle who he knew had gotten away from them, Clare had already moved into the hanger bay. Upari followed behind. They both watched, shocked to see him pinned to the ship with a blaster in his gut. “No final words, Jedi?” Krant said mockingly. “Not even a witty joke?”

Upari raised his weapon, trying to get a clear shot when he saw Kyle reach out his arm, it seemed like he was begging for their help when he noticed the virboblade across from him jitter. "Beautiful...sword..." The Feeorin frowned.

Shik.

Clare ran forward, Upari had tried to keep her back, worried she would force Krant's hand, but when the sword jumped forward he lost his grip in amazement. The Jedi fell to his knees. Krant’s blaster clattered to the ground as the shock settled into his muscles with the tip of his own vibroblade poking out of his chest. He reached behind his back feebly before collapsing to one side in a heap. Clare ran toward Kyle, Upari dropped his weapon, following, his officers and Jevan ran in behind as the security forces followed. Clare grabbed Kyle as he fell and Jevan ran to help. Upari was distracted by the incoming forces he and his officers suppressed them. While Clare and Jevan feebly dragged Kyle onto the ship another ship shot out of the hanger. Upari could only watch. Sarta the Hutt's personal yacht, pudgy bastard.

"Alright folks, break off and get to the ship!" Upari ran ahead, firing back wildly toward the incoming security forces. Clare had already gotten Kyle aboard the raggedy YT merchant. Upari jumped in the cockpit as blaster fire tried to tear through the durasteel plated exterior.

"This is your Captain speaking please keep your hands and feet in the ship at all times and I hope you enjoy the flight."

He fired up the engine and blasted out as the planetary forces got within inches of disturbing their departure plans. Distracted with Sarta's yacht, a police tank stationed just outside the palace wasn't able to hit them as they flew past the other ship the thugs following Sarta wasn’t so lucky while they made it into the stratosphere.



And that is the exciting conclusion. Good work everyone. It was an amazing ride.

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Coral Callatros
Alex


Joined: 02 Aug 2009
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 Post Posted: Thu, September 16th 2010 02:21pm    Post subject:
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Pop!

She had used a NRI door blaster to send the door ajar. It was a terrible sound, and probably woke any sleeping bodies for miles around. She removed the special earplugs and tossed them aside, and entered the complex with her blaster extended. She checked all the rooms, and it was a closet that held what she came for. A single holo-droid remained, motionless, but beside a black container full of wires and an advanced (government issued - not doubt stolen) connection to the holonet. Coral breathed a little easier knowing the apartment wasn't full of Nico's personnel. The droid was large, it was intimidating, but they weren't known for their tactical or violent programming.

The droid looked deactivated, it was probably on somekind of hibernation schedule to avoid massive power drain or detection. These types of droids were illegal in nearly every government, their ability to slice was phenomenal. Her fingers glided over its exoskeleton. It was warm, it must've just submitted something. Coral pulled her sleeves up, and checked the chrono across her wrist. The next transmission wouldn't take place for another thirty minutes.

Using several of the tools, she began to work, first accessing the droid to explore the type of modifications Nico had used. It was impressive, all top of the line. Some of it was Bothan... bastards. Coral's chrono beeped twice, it was a warning alarm. Any minute the droid would activate, receive an incoming transmission... dismantle the message entirely, then recreate it and send it to the next location. It was a paranoid form of communication, but it had been effective at keeping Nico at large.

She placed each object exactly where she had found it, and returned to a room with an adequate view, preferably of the input-key-board. Her estimate had been off by nearly six minutes, each minute ticking slowly almost to a grinding halt, before the droid's head light flashed red, then blue. Its body came to life, moving about the room to collect a data chip in the closet.

Smart. If Coral had tried to use the computer without that chip, she would've triggered some sort of security trap.

The droid pushed the chip into the third slot of the keyboard, and then entered the password sequence. Soon it was live, right on the holonet. It received the data transmission from Denon, and in just a few seconds, it was gone. It took the next three minutes to recompile the data and submit it the next location.. Coral leaned over, catching the first half of the galactic coordinates. It was somewhere - no.

Coruscant... New Republic Intelligence... What the frak was the droid sending Nico's intelligence to the NRI?!

Coral waited for the droid to return the chip to its hiding place, power down the holonet terminal, then enter hibernation mode before she returned. Retrieving the chip, she snapped it into the third slot, and keyed in the long passcode. The holonet appeared and sure enough, the sequence had been sent directly to NRI headquarters. Opening the message, it read: The body of New Republic Intelligence officer, Coral Collatros, can be found at 2341-424 Dallpha Apartment Complex NorthSide, Atzerri. - V.N.

A red light casted her shadow against the wall. Frak me, Coral thought, turning quick to face the droid powering up, but its mechanical hand slammed across her face. The droid smashed her ribs, before gathering the equipment. Coral breathed, but the agony was too much, and she collapsed into darkness....

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Lucas Pallanén-Davad
Alex


Joined: 01 Aug 2009
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Location: Aboard the Blight Leaper

 Post Posted: Sat, September 18th 2010 03:32am    Post subject:
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The Republic shuttle bit through the clouds, the world was dark, even the city lights were dim. Anakin glided them over the capital city, they could sense the darkness, like it was breeding below them. The overture of carnal sounds and disgust poured inward, Lucas tried his best to shield his mind, his heart. "There is a very dark presence here." Anakin advised, "If I did not think you were ready, we would not have come." Lucas felt something else, like another presence in the shuttle's cabin. It was a woman, exceedingly beautiful. Her hair was brunette, but the eyes were possibly the most beautiful orbs he had ever seen. He could feel the soft essence of her being, yet knew she was not really there.

As the shuttle landed, the impressions of the native people were growing on him. They were predators, feasting on the flesh and blood of other sentient beings. Their tentacles slipped into their victims and drained their veins, calling it the soup. The violent nature collided with the sensitivity of the Force. It tingled and spiked as the doors opened, goosebumps spread across his entire body. This was not a good idea, they shouldn't have come here. "I'm afraid." There was no other way to say it, his hands not leaving the controls. Naboo had corrupted his Jedi spirit, he was no longer in control of his emotions. Meditations caused his mind to drift, jealousy and anger was much more abundant... And now here, it was terror which gripped him vigorously.

"Lucas?" Anakin question, but he didn't look, instead, Lucas looked at the woman, probably just a year, maybe two older than himself. She was wearing a Rebel uniform, it looked dated, possibly from the Rebellion...Rogue Squadron. She smiled at him, and a feeling of comfort washed over him. "What is it?" He could feel his Master reaching out, Anakin searched the outward emotions, attempting to grasp any form or concept that would help him understand.

Lucas could feel Anakin, it was almost abrasive. "Stop." Anakin retracted instantly.

"What is happening? I sense something, something is bothering you. Maybe this was a mistake." Worry slipped from Anakin's mouth, it was one of the first times he held doubt.

"I'm fine. I thought it was going to be too much." The air of Atzerri was something he'd never forget. It was difficult for him to process or describe. It was raw, fresh, and evil. The woman was gone, but the small feeling of comfort remained with him, like an umbrella in a rainstorm. "I'm fine." He wrapped his cloak around his body, and rose from the co-pilot's chair. Anakin looked him over, and nodded. The level of concern would be difficult to backtrack, but eventually, Anakin would trust him again. Lucas took this as a notion of caution, he needed to prove he was ready for situations like this, especially with a war brewing across the stars.

The walk was short, the NRI had positioned them very close to the apartment complex where Coral's body would be found. It was odd that Nico had even sent the message. She had never done something like this before, it was almost against her persona. Several Atzerri walked passed them, it was merely by their attire, the robes of a Jedi, had they kept their thirst at bay. Anakin put his arm around Lucas' shoulders, it was a memento of sorts, the type of bond and companionship the two had shared for nearly four years.

"Let the Force protect you," Anakin spoke nonchalantly, Lucas could tell when his mind was elsewhere. "I was going to tell you to create a bubble... but... I can already sense it. It would seem Master Durron has a few lesson-tricks up his sleeves." Lucas gave him a laugh, but it wasn't Durron that provided the protection. It was the phantom in the shuttle. The woman from the Rebellion. "This is it..."

Lucas removed his lightsaber...
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Lucas Pallanén-Davad
Alex


Joined: 01 Aug 2009
Posts: 1153
Location: Aboard the Blight Leaper

 Post Posted: Wed, September 22nd 2010 03:38am    Post subject:
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Anakin sliced through the door, the heated lump of metal falling onto the floor inside the apartment. Lucas was the first to jump through, his Force senses were tingling, but it didn't set off any vibration of danger. He kept the blue hum in front of him, using it as a source of light, as Anakin came behind him. "There's something in the room with us." His voice was low, Lucas barely heard it. One foot after another, they proceeded throughout the living complex, and sure enough, in the shroud darkness around them someone or something was breathing. It was slow, repetitive to a count.

Then something else, like a shuffle of feet, and air expelled violently from a pair of lungs. Anakin sent a wave of the Force out, disabling any possible attackers. Random clutter fell from the walls, table tops and counters as the shockwave cleared them. A ping from the Force sent Lucas' right arm to the left, and his blade intercepting a shot heading straight for his Master's side. Anakin gave him a look, a mixture of gratitude and worry. The shot came from the room, but the shuffle meant the attacker had switched positions.

"You go left, I go right." Anakin hissed under his breath, and together they made the move, using their lightsabers as mediocre flashlights. When the aggressor came into view, his stomach churned, letting out a surprised gasp. The woman from Iego, the self-proclaimed Republic agent was laying on the floor, she was alive, but not well. Her breathing suggested she was unconscious, a constant rhythm, in and out. A small blood puddle had formed near her neck via small puncture wounds.

The Atzerri stared wildly, his eyes mixed with instinctual drive to survive and the bliss of the "soup". He was feasting on what appeared like a young male, blond from the back. Anakin extended his hands, the tentacles on the creature ripped off and were tossed against the wall, alongside the predator's blaster. Lucas approached and with a quick swipe, the Atzerri was dead. The vampire's decapitated figure seemed to hauntingly stare, as though from the grave. Anakin tore a piece of cloth from his robes and wrapped it around her neck, before lifting the Intelligence agent off the ground. Lucas approached the man, he was probably dead now any ways...

Grabbing his shoulder, Lucas flipped him over, and did a double take.

"What is it?" Anakin asked, he was half way out the door.

"I know him."

"Who was he?"

"Kuat." Lucas said, rather astonished the Kuati noble was so far from home. They had grown up together, just in two completely different lifestyles. Lucas had grown into a family, where wealth and political prestige was abundant and generally extremely positive. The Kuat family had seen its political peak, and at the demise of Kuat of Kuat, they had lost many of their fortunes, but most importantly, Kuat Drive Yards. "Riles?" Lucas shook the blonde, and just when he was about to retire and give up, a blood chortling gurgle, before he spat up his lunch. Lucas lifted him entirely, he could tell this would be a strain. About a hundred Atzerri stood between them and the shuttle, and with blood dripping from both bodies, it wasn't going to be a walk in the park.

"Ready to face a horde of starving zombies?" It was a derogatory remark, meant as a jab towards the species feasting of humanoid blood and brains. Lucas nodded, and together, they made into the night...

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Rylii Kuat
Alex


Joined: 09 Sep 2010
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 Post Posted: Wed, September 22nd 2010 05:14pm    Post subject:
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The night was crisp on Atzerri, Lumiya had only spoken to chastise him for inaction and misuse of his time on Dathomir. If it had not been for his bloodline, she probably would have killed him, and found a new puzzle piece for her masterpiece in taking the galaxy. Even the natives stayed away from them, most shrinking away into the shadows as they moved about the city. Her boots were heavy, the cybernetic enhancements were probably the most terrifying aspect of the woman. He had watched her fry a rodian with her palms.

They stopped in front of an apartment complex, Lumiya keyed the passcode, and entered without reservation as to what possibly laid inside. A droid was operating in the corner, and aside from it, laid out a woman. She was sexy in this state, despite the massive bruise forming on her side. Rylii opened his mouth to question, but it snapped shut as the droid activated its defense systems. It fired three rounds, Lumiya's outstretched hands had crushed its cannons and soon, it exploded. The Force was an awesome gift, and she displayed it wonderfully. Scooting the droid aside, she forced the remains inside the closet, and shut the door. Though she was swift, he noticed the Sith had removed a critical component of the droid's memory, before blasting it to smothers.

"Check her," Lumiya's voice was quick, almost as if she sensed she was running out of time. Rylii moved across the pavement and collected the woman into his hands, using his fingers to check her pulse. "She's alive," He answered. Lumiya moved across the room, her cloak hovering just inches from the floor as she opened the door hatch. A massive Atzerri stepped inside, before kneeling. "What if I didn't want to go through with this?" Rylii thought aloud, but it was ignored entirely.

"A'culpulus, you have served me well. I foresee great promise in the market you have dedicated towards my cause." Her words were swift, "I have brought you two gifts, though I ask that you leave them alive until the sunrise. I wish for them to suffer a long, and painful death." The man nodded, his eyes twisting towards their position. Rylii cradled the woman, as though protecting her from the beast. Lumiya did not look at them when she left through the door.

"Hello," The planet's native spoke, his voice had a strange twist, like he was pretending to sound Coruscanti. "Lady Lumiya has been most generous. I can sense that you are both... jubilantly vibrant."

Rylii gulped. He had agreed to be feasted on. It needed to look real. But would the Atzerri really spare them until sunrise? He checked his chrono. The Jedi sent should arrive any minute, and then the real acting show would begin. Would Lucas be able to sense his true intentions? The Atzerri approached pulling the rebel agent from his arms, his tentacles slipped out and pierced her flesh. The sound of the skin tearing, and the spatter of blood brought goosebumps over the majority of his body. If the Dathomiri Witches had taught him anything, it was to embrace pain. Pain built strength, tolerance and power over your attacker.

The bloodsucker looked at him, Rylii squirmed realistically. He dropped the woman, not particularly caring, and rushed him. Rylii fought, he needed to make this look good, but the plan was to be immobilized. The Atzerri was strong, and by the time the tentacles pinched through his skin, Rylii dropped. He thrashed only for a moment, but the blood was being redirected from his brain, and he fell unconscious.

* * *



The sound of a hyperdrive whirled and a blue hue fell over the cabin. Hyperspace. Rylii sighed, he felt numb and lightheaded. "You probably shouldn't move very much." The voice had a Kuati undertone. His eyes struggled to open, but when they did, sure enough, the pompous jackass Lucas Pallanén-Davad towered over him. Rylii tried to smile, but internally, he was struggling not to launch himself and strangle the smug bastard.

"I should probably thank you for saving my life," Rylii coughed, but took it down a notch. He couldn't be too dramatic, it seemed like a scene out of a holo film. "Lucas."

And here it began. Lucas smiled, and sat at the footing of cabin's couch. Coral was wrapped comfortably on the otherside, Lucas curiously stared at her, but asked, "What were you doing there?" Rylii tried to recall the cover story.

"I was tracking the bastard, he stumbled into an apartment complex, and got the better of me." Rylii let an emotional laugh escape, "Bastard was desperate."

Lucas nodded, he had no other reason not to believe it. "What are you doing so far from, well, home?"

"I could ask you the same question." Rylii smirked, he wanted to shift his position, but knew he'd pass out or vomit, and right now, he didnt want to do that. "What is the son of the wonderful First Magistrate doing so far from the Core?"

The petting of the Pallanén's ego seemed to soothe any concerns of foul play, he pointed towards the girl. "She's a Republic agent. Nico trapped her."

"Small galaxy, huh?" Rylii offered, "Did you kill the Atzerri? There was a significant bounty on his head that I'd like to claim, unless you-"

"No, go ahead." Lucas was different than what he used to be. The Jedi Order had brought a considerable amount of maturity, or he was extremely distracted.

"What are you thinking of?"

"Eisley."

"Mos Eisley? Tatooine?" Rylii scoffed, it was hard to believe someone in the Pallanen family was dreaming up an Outer Rim world.

"Uh..." Lucas flashed him a smile, "Sorta. Long story." The Jedi rose and disappeared. Rylii waited comfortably, but somehow, they needed more time. He needed to build a bond..
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