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  2. One Dark Night

    Performing a combat roll in full armor was not as difficult as it was made out to be, but it helped if you were trained to do so from a very young age. Viraen executed a perfect combat roll and as he came up he let off another shot with his particle beam pistol at the Jedi, who drew and ignited his lightsaber and tried to deflect the bolt after having tossed himself aside the previous time to avoid the bolt. Viraen couldn't help but smirk under his helmet as the bolt detonated explosively and forced the lightsaber out of the Jedi's hand. Angry red blaster bolts from Grukkar's rifle flew over his head, prompting Viraen to raise his left hand and let off a two round burst with both gauntlet mounted ripper pistols. The shots were hastily aimed at center mass, as he was taught to instinctively aim at. Unfortunately, when fighting heavily armored Mandalorians like Grukkar, that was a bad idea. The rounds barely dented the solid beskar plate. "Oh shab," he breathed. Viraen quickly his hands and fired his left hand gauntlet mounted twin suppressed ripper pistols at the Jetii and the particle beam pistol at Grukkar. Viraen's own natural skill combined with the multitude of supplementary systems in his HUD yielded good results, two of the rounds caught the Jedi in the side, scorching his cloak and punching through his chestplate. The particle bolt caught Grukkar in the shoulder, throwing his next salvo off and sending the rounds into one of the book shelves. Viraen's good fortunes came to an end very quickly as Grukkar raised his gauntlet, leveling the mass accelerator weapon mounted on it at him, and then took aim. Viraen let off another shot at him in the hopes it would disrupt his targeting. The bolt caught him in the lower abdomen, causing knocking him back at the last moment. It all happened so quickly, with adrenaline pumping through his veins, he only noticed that his cloak had slipped once more and that he was bleeding from a large hole in his side. Notifications on his HUD told him that the suit was both sealing itself and pumping him full of stimms, as well as administering kolto. The plate however, was clearly damaged, and the round was still inside him. As he regained awareness of his surroundings, he could see that the Jedi had recovered their lightsaber and was charging toward him. Grukkar was aiming a micro-missile at him. Stumbling to his feet, Viraen set the Echo Belt to restart. That would disable the flickering cloak, but would give it time to recalibrate and hopefully restart fully functional. Turning both the particle beam pistol and the left gauntlet mounted twin suppressed ripper pistols at the Jedi, who still clearly had not learned their lesson. The Jedi managed to deftly dodge the first few shots from Viraen's particle beam pistol with serpentine grace, but each attempt cost him. Ripper rounds punched through his lower left leg and left side. The particle beam pistol however, clicked empty. Viraen was about to demonstrate how a Mandalorian was never unarmed. Turning his pistol to the side, he fired a beam from his gauntlet mounted shatter beam projector into Grukkar before raking it across to hit the Jedi. Both his foes were knocked back by the the sheer kinetic energy of the beam. Viraen didn't have time to check if they were alive or not. He dropped the spent cell and slammed a new one home with a satisfying click. Hearing the weapon come to life with a reassuring hum he brought it up and searched for his foes. Not caring about being detected by Grukkar now, given that he could be seen clear as day, he turned on the active mode of his life form scanners. It picked up a very weak signature coming from around one of the book shelves, on the move and very slow. Viraen picked up the pace, stumbling into a jog, he rounded the bend and saw the Jedi coughing up blood, trying to reach for their weapon. Viraen didn't give him that chance, he put a pair of particle beam bolts into his head, explosively detonating his skull. It was then that Viraen realized that his scanner had picked up a contact coming from behind him. He didn't have to turn to see Grukkar standing behind him. Viraen's own HUD warned him of the targeting lock attempt. At this range, even reflec didn't save him from a laser guided rocket. Pulsing his jetpack to get into the air, Viraen only realized how much he'd screwed up when he felt the pressure wave from the resulting explosion hit him. He hit something, hard, he didn't quite know what it was. His vision was blurry, and it took him a moment to realize that it wasn't his HUD that was malfunctioning, it was him. 'How many times are you going to get blown up before you learn to be more careful?' he asked himself. Viraen could see an armored figure walking up to him. Even as his vision took it's time in returning, he could tell that it was Grukkar. The slow purposefulness with which the other Mandalorian advanced up to him, he could tell that his quandary was enjoying the reversal in roles. Viraen didn't have too many options now. He saw his pistol lying a few feet away from him, clearly the force of the explosion was enough to knock it free from his grip even though he had the magnetic lock engaged. He managed to roll onto his side. The weapon was a mere inches away from him. Turning on the magnetic lock, the weapon began to shake. He could almost feel it in his hands before a green armored boot stepped on it. "Oh I'm sorry, were you looking for this?" taunted Grukkar. Viraen blinked at the icon that activated the spring loaded switch for the Kal knife in his gauntlet, and he swung at the larger Mandalorian's legs. Viraen felt the blade in his side the moment that Grukkar's boot impacted with his side. "You know, for one of your kind, I expected more," he spat. "Clan Kyrdol. Hunters of everyone that doesn't fit the resol'nare, and who even looked at the Mand'alor the wrong way." Viraen was on his back again now. Grukkar walked closer, aiming his gauntlet mounted mass accelerator at him. "Any last words, chakaare?" Viraen knew he was out of options now. Well, almost. Grukkar was standing directly above his right shoulder. He was so close, that Viraen didn't need to bother with a targeting solution. Taking a breath, Viraen coughed as the mere action hurt, "Ret', shabuir." Viraen could almost see the confused expression he knew was on Grukkar's face, and with those words out of his mouth, he blinked at the firing control for his right shoulder mounted dart launcher. A single dart caught Grukkar just under his helmet, and detonated. His helmet's visor automatically polarized, unfortunately obscuring his view of what he was sure was a spectacular sight. He lay there for what was easily a minute or two, before he flooded his system with stimms. It was dangerous to flood his system with this many stimms, but there were still two more hostiles in the room. Thankfully, his cloaking device was done rebooting and recalibrating. Once more invisible, Viraen got to his feet with no small amount of difficulty. Scooping up his pistol and reloading his twin gauntlet mounted suppressed Ripper pistols, Viraen went after the two particular life signs in the room whom he knew he had to kill for all this osik to be really over and done with.
  3. Today
  4. Now that I've done the smart thing and slept between work to get over my sickness, I will be hopefully completing most of the Forge stuff tomorrow and doing more of the thread transfers.

    Then maybe posts, who knows!

  5. Yesterday
  6. One Dark Night

    The Mandalorian named Grukkar and his allies had prepped for this strike, removing the Guardians, the droids, the security systems. Then, the Force users and his own tech had made it possible to sneak up on the target and attack. They were so close to dropping him when his armored sensors picked up the presence of a bystander. "We're not alone," he warned, and one of the Jedi immediately reached out with the Force to sense what the technology couldn't. The new arrival's cloaking was good though, and even using the Force, he couldn't quite sense the source of the disturbance. But what he COULD sense was where there was no disturbance. It took longer, but eventually he pointed in a direction and said simply, "There." Grukkar opened fire, relying on suppression and area-of-effect damage to catch his suspected target unaware. He was rewarded when some of his ammunition caused flickers, as a cloaking device failed and revealed another brother-in-arms. Another Mando? Here? That one stood up, shaking off the incidental damage and roared at them, "Is that all you have chaakar!?" Grukkar roared back at the challenge, and started to head that way. The Jedi who had pointed out the target went as well, the pair intended to close and make quick work of a single foe. Mando on Mando was a fair fight... and likely a lot of property damage. But this new 'Library' abutted the Jedi's own archives, and mass property damage would not only mean more possibilities of getting caught, and having to answer for their strike against the resident Darth, but the loss of information and artifacts by both Sith and Jedi could become... excessive. The Sith attacker started to turn from Verrin to join the fight against the intruding Mandalorian, but was stopped by the Jedi woman's voice. "Eyes on the prize, you idiot! If this all goes to poodoo now, at least we'll have done the galaxy a service! If he lives, this is a catastrophic failure!" The Sith paused, but then nodded as that wisdom got through. He frowned. He loved to deliver a good thrashing, and while he wanted the claim to the Darth's position, executing the downed old man wasn't as enticing as slaughtering a Mando. Besides, they didn't want witnesses. He saw the other Jedi and Mandalorian rushing towards the fight he wanted to be involved in. He paused, indecisive. ************* Lord Galadon was a Sith of the Dromund Kaas Empire, and had signed on with the Guardians when he was merely an Adept. It was a special Order within the Sith, comprised of a select, elite few who could put their personal aspirations for power aside for a while, and dedicate their lives to a noble cause. The Order took an oath, and was responsible for protecting the Library and its contents from all harm. They safeguarded the books, the flimsi, the data... the holocrons, the datacrons, and the art... even the Librarian himself. Even though the Order of the Guardians had only been active for about fifteen years, they followed a code that derived from older orders of Sith, dating back to Xo'Xann and her allies. They were not a large Order, but they were able to staff six Guardians in the Library at all times, night and day, every day. Historically, they'd defended the Library against an attack by Mandalorians, three strikes by Jedi, the Rakata invasion, and even a rancor-assisted attempt to breach. So Lord Galadon found it immensely odd that he was in an infirmary. He asked the nearest staff what had happened to him, and they answered, "You were brought in by medical personnel, in a horrible state. Scans detected that you were poisoned." Lord Galadon thought that was odd. In this day and age of modern medicine, bacta and kolto, poison was rarely used anymore. He started to think that some foolish Sith had learned a few things while they had been sequestered on Dathomir, but the more he considered that, the more he thought it odd. Poisons were usually used to kill... not incapacitate. He should be dead. "What was the nature of the poison," he asked. "Was it lethal?" The medic smirked. "Obviously not," they lightly quipped. But they quickly changed to a more serious note at a look from the Lord patient. "It was a non-lethal toxin, similar to what would be used to tranquilize a rancor. But given your size and weight, it made you terribly sick. The effects should wear off in a few hours though... but I think you won't feel 100% for a few days." Lord Galadon looked relieved, but something nagged at the base of his skull, in his brain. It felt like he was forgetting something - a gnat buzzing just out of range of his ear. He looked around the Infirmary, and spotted another Guardian who had been posted with him. Right - they had been on duty. He rubbed his side and felt a bandage. The medic said the poison had been delivered dart, and left a nasty puncture wound. Galadon turned and saw another Guardian... then another. His heart started to race, and he asked, "Wait! How many of us were brought in?" The medic, not understanding, replied casually, "Six." Galadon's eyes went wide, and his heart monitor started to beep an alarm, causing the medic to hasten towards him in concern. "What... what's wrong with you?" The medic asked, trying to find out what ailed his patient. "It's not me, you fool!" Galadon cried as he slapped away the reaching hands of the attendant. "Get me my datapad... NOW!" ************* "Frack! Where is he?!" The woman Jedi screamed. She had just tried to see where Darth Verrin lay, figuring she'd have to finish the job that the indecisive Sith could not. But the old man wasn't there, or he'd rendered himself hidden in the Force. Her cry startled the Sith, and he snapped his head and lightsaber around to deal with Darth Verrin after all. But she was right - he couldn't see the prone man. Alarmed, he jumped the last few feet to the bookshelf the Darth had been laying upon, and he slashed with his saber a few times. But he impacted nothing, and sensed nothing. He looked wildly around, trying to get a sense of where the old man might have gone. But it was the Jedi woman, who was able to maintain her calm enough to look around intelligently. "The blood trail... follow the blood trail!"
  7. Last week
  8. One Dark Night

    Tracking people was what Clan Kyrdol did. Of course, they took care of a lot of dangerous contracts, but they also did a lot of dirty work for the other clans. That meant hunting down those that were dar'manda when they could and in this particular case, hunting down an anti-independence trouble maker. Usually, no one gave a shab what it was that you thought and said, as long as you kept it to yourself and didn't go around trying to drum up support for what was left of the anti-independence movement. Which was to say, a few dini'la chaakare laying low to avoid getting their heads removed or blown off. Grukkar Tad was another matter entirely. This shabuir was the former sort of pro-independence shabuir; he was trying to find support for his cause, and word was that he was really not picky about who his allies were. When Viraen had heard that, he was worried that he'd have to track the man to the site of the new coalition. It was because of that, that Ikaan wanted him to take care of this quietly. Grukkar was a hard man to track, he knew how to cover his tracks, and it was for that reason that Viraen had taken this long to catch up to him. The High Tower on Niruan was the last place that he'd expected to be finding himself in. Getting in wasn't hard, in fact he'd an interesting conversation with an Imperial Marksman about his rifle. Unfortunately he'd had to tell the man that he wasn't likely to see a rifle like this in his life, much to the man's dismay. Viraen had to be discreet, and so when he'd come in he'd stowed his armor at the training facility and instead switched to civies to track down Grukkar. Viraen had almost left when he'd seen Grukkar enter toward the end of the day. He'd asked around the few Mandalorians who were around, and had learned the Grukkar had been hanging around some odd company; Jetii. Viraen knew that meant that he just couldn't be up to anything good. Of course, there was the coalition and all that osik, but a Mando who willingly sought out a Jetii? Especially with a man like Grukkar, something was definitely wrong there. So, Viraen had naturally recovered his armor and had been keeping his distance. There were more than a few occasions where he was almost sure that he'd given himself away, not to Grukkar, but to his Jetii pals. They were a tricky bunch, and Viraen was tempted to put a bullet in them and call it a day. That however, would get him in a lot of trouble, and wasn't worth any of it. Viraen had tracked them to the Archives with great difficulty. What startled him was the distinct lack of guards. Viraen had it on good authority that there were plenty of dar'jetii guards in the area, and yet he could neither see any of them nor could any of his passive scanners. Active scanners would have given him away to Grukkar before he could blink if he was half as good as he was proving to be so far. Sticking to the ceiling with his grav boots as he shadowed them, making use of his Echo belt and sound dampener to augment his own natural abilities to avoid detection, Viraen followed them till they got to what he was told was the private study of a Darth Verrin. Now this only perplexed him more. What in haran were they doing at some ruug'la dar'jetii's study? Nothing good. The last thing Mand'alor needed was for some dini'la shabuir like Grukkar to come back wielding some ancient knowledge or some other osik to challenge her for the position. Viraen had no choice here, there was only one way in and he wasn't exactly going to be able to keep them unaware of his presence when the door opened. Just in case they managed to slip away, Viraen replaced four of his electro-stun darts with all the remaining surveillance taggers that he had on his person. He made his way down to the door and slung his rifle, drawing his S-110 Particle Beam Interceptor Pistol with his right hand. Viraen opened the door and immediately dove away from it. He pulsed the room with his armor's life form scanner and motion sensor. Sensor returns told him that there were five life signs in the room. "We're not alone," he heard one of them say, he was willing to be his credits that this was Grukkar. Viraen pulsed the room with his reconfigured bioscan, just a quick basic pulse, enough to tell Grukkar that there was someone with specialist gear in the room but not where they were. Weak returns from three of the figures, meaning that they weren't exactly packing plenty of heat, or they were using advanced sensor dampening. Grukkar on the other hand showed up on the scan as bright as a star. The man was basically a walking weapons platform, a Powertech they called themselves. Shab...this was going to hurt for sure. "Come out shabuir!" threatened Grukkar, swinging around a Czerka Blaster Suppressor equipped Mandalorian Assault Rifle. Viraen could see him clear as day, and could see his three cloaked companions. Force users for sure, but who were what, and he was sure that Grukkar only had two Jetii friends. Suddenly, one of the cloaked figures pointed in his general direction, and Grukkar didn't hesitate to spray in his general direction. A few rounds were absorbed by his side and abdomen plate as well as the shoulder pauldron. Viraen felt that, but at least they weren't tearing through his body. His cloaking field flickered, rendering him visible. Viraen waited for his HUD to lock onto Grukkar before firing off an explosive dart at him, letting off a few shots with his particle beam pistol at the cloaked figures. Grukkar saw what was coming and tried to throw himself aside, but instead was knocked over by the explosion, his armor scorched, but seemed intact to Viraen. "Is that all you have chaakar!?" he bellowed as he stood to his feet. This had turned from a stealth operation into an open firefight. "Har'chaak Vir'ika, what in haran have you gotten yourself into this time?" he muttered to himself.
  9. Swift Reckoning

    Tece looked at the pair, "Well seeing as we'll probably just stand here deciding whether or not to kill each other. Guess I will start: My name is Tece Tyrr, pleasure." She said, bringing her one hand down to rest firmly on her hip, "This is R6." R6 beeped beside her, "Now seeing as I've gone to the trouble of introducing myself, it would only be polite for you to introduce yourselves." She took a few steps closer towards the pair. All the while she looked at them and the room they were all inside, "And would someone tell me why a clearly meant to be filled cargo room is as empty as a Hutt's trustworthy room?" R6 beeped and whistled, "That too buddy. Or a Republic senator's head. Cause unless I'm mistaken it will be one of the important parts of our mission won't it?" She asked out loud, clearly knowing what the answer would be.
  10. A Glance Into Darkness

    A few of the city's citizens still surviving had shied away from the padawan, and even with the mentioning of the surviving sith they had encountered during the secret meet, the people hesitated, showed obvious skepticism. General directions to the ship were given and they were left to make their own choice, the Miralukan rejoining the newcomers at Zyann's side. Flashing a carefree grin at her companions, the Togruta pulled out a smoke grenade taken from the smuggler's stash aboard her ship. Naturally the alien hadn't planned on using it in such a way, wanting to use it for escape purposes, but one must adapt to every situation. "Just who do you take me for, buckethead," she laughed, using a term for the helmets of their armor she had picked up when treating Republic troopers some time ago. "I am a Jedi Master. Don't underestimate me. Now, when they all run out and are shooting at me, that's your signal to slip into their stronghold and find the prisoners. Be alert. I will guard the rear when everyone's out. Comms off so they don't trace you or the ship." Turning to the other Jedi, the woman smiled, letting her energy coat her figure and gently reach out in a comforting manner as one would with a hand on a shoulder or a hug. "Support them as best as you can, and save your energy. Heal only critical wounds just enough to get them to the ship. If you use your lightsaber, you will draw attention away from myself, so only use it as a last resort. You can do this, Mirran. Focus on the immediate surroundings, worry about the darkness and its creatures when we step foot into its territory." With that, the woman gave a nod to the group and let the energy pool at her feet, muscles tensing before she leapt through the air from where she had stood, landing in the clearing visible from every angle. The smoke seeped from its condensed case with a slow hiss, stinging her eyes and nose. Immediately the atmosphere turned tense, the feeling of figures becoming alarmed, alert, swnding ripples through the Force. Feeling her skin prickle, she sidestepped a single balster shot her way. There. She was nearly fully surrounded, though most kept their distance. Spreading her arms out, a wave of energy shot outward from her form, clearing the smoke and slamming into troopers nearby hard enough to cause them to stumble back a few standard feet. Amethyst gaze roamed over the armored beings, her free hand sliding her hood back to reveal her easily identifiable face; some troopers hesitated, their feelings conflicted for the Jedi Master had been known amongst some, had saved the lives of a few present at the least. White plates shifted, the young woman letting her cloak slip from her body to reveal the shimmersilk robes draped over her form, her saberstaff hilt grasped in her extended arm. A pauldron and colored bands indicated the Republic trooper approaching was in charge, or one of the higher ranking beings amongst the lot that had survived and taken over the city. "In the name of the Galactic Alliance, I demand you all surrender-" "The Traitor's Alliance you mean," the captain sneered, his helmet being removed to reveal a human male with dark brown short cropped hair and dark almost menacing eyes. A few scars distorted his face, as though a creature had mauled him. Laughing, the woman scratched at her montral with her free hand, shaking her head. "Ah, it does seem bad given enemies bent on killing one another are suddenly helping eachother out. But was that not the original goal before the Republic - Jedi included - committed genocide upon the Imperials? One faction, one people, should not have rule over all in the galaxy. So again, I urge you all to surrender so that you may be treated fairly and return to your homes after being tried for crimes against innocents." "Sound the alarms. She can't take us alone-search for more of her kind!" "You lot are nothing when facing a Jedi Master. Forgive me for the injuries you will end up with." Rushing forward, the woman's weapon lit to life with a loud snap-hiss, the two blades flashing around her as she blocked various bolts of condensed plasma shot from blasters all around her person. Movements swift, her gaze steady and intent on the captain, the Togruta knocked men and women aside, the white armor plates being marked black from where her lightsaber made brief contact with the material covering their vitals. Her hip and shoulder burned where a particularly skilled sniper struck her inbetween the spinning and maneuvering of her wewpon and body. Shots reflected off her weapon harmlessly into walls or the ground, her goal being to spare every person present regardless of allegiance. Tbc
  11. Taking a bit of a mini-hiatus through at least Friday, if not the weekend, due to some irl reasons that will take my entire focus. This will go for Tala and Isa as well. Will be back as soon as I'm able :)

  12. Exhausted but doing work in the background. Wanting to post, but duty comes first and hopefully it sparks my muse eventually.

  13. A bright blade in the Darkest of Night

    It sounded like Mirran was about to go 'all out' as she put it, and Verrin was ready. This was what he'd wanted - to see where she really was, not how well she could strike a pose. She amused him by offering a warning, and then - quite suddenly - she stopped altogether. He would have thought it a trick to set him off guard, and he would have respected that even though it would annoy him, except her face went pale, and her voice changed drastically. He'd seen this before in his Prophet apprentice - when the Force gave her a vision while she was in the middle of doing something else. He cocked his head as she spoke, listening. Mirran spoke of her old master returning, but Verrin didn't sense anyone in the immediate vicinity. The bond between masters and apprentices was strong though, and Mirran would likely sense her mentor if they arrived on the planet, nevermind this building. And then Mirran seemed upset... disappointed... offended? She spoke, explaining in short. But that short explanation was informative to Verrin, and he knew how to answer. "Yes." It was a simple statement, but a truthful one. Some of the students he'd taught over the years were ones who had been dismissed or neglected by their own masters. His own master, Drackonis, had disappeared on Verrin more than once. He'd had to seek his instruction from others during that time. But every time the master returned, Verrin had also returned to him. He was faithful that way... loyal. Perhaps that was why the Sith'ari really kept him around. He knew Verrin would always serve the Sith... the Empire... in whatever form it stood. He stood upright, letting the training saber rest - still in hand - by his side. He had no reason to defend the master of a wayward Jedi woman, but he suggested, "Sometimes, the galaxy takes us places when we don't expect it, and suddenly too. I'm not saying it's right or wrong to do this, but my advice would be to meet with your master and find out what happened... why she left you to train on your own, or with another. Perhaps it was a choice to have you learn this way. Perhaps it had nothing to do with you at all, but with her. Communicate first, then render judgement when you are better informed." He paused and turned to one side. "Oh right... you probably wanted me to say something like, "Leave her then... join me, and together we will make her pay for what she's done to you. Her crime against you will not go unpunished!"" He smirked, though he figured she couldn't see it. "I'll tell you what... I'll offer a compromise... something in between. Your master is a chain that binds you. According to our Code, we gain strength by breaking the chains that bind us. But the truth of it all is that we - all of us - have chains. We choose the ones we bind ourselves with. You could ignore your master's return... forsake her altogether. You could let her come to you, instead of you running to her. That would be leaving the choice to renew your bond in her hands... assuming you trust them. You could run to her side, clasp her gratefully to your chest, and never let that chain go. It's one you choose to bear, or not. But please... Stop trying to guess what others want for you, and decide what you want for yourself. If you want her... go get her. If you don't... dismiss her, and we'll move on with your training. But own your destiny. CHOOSE the chain you wish to bear. That is my advice to you, Miss Kai." He waited to see if she'd return to her attack, or give up. Perhaps today's lesson wasn't going to be about lightsabers at all.
  14. A bright blade in the Darkest of Night

    Mirran shrugged. "It is said that Niman is used as the diplomat's form, as it doesn't require too much-specialized training so one can focus more on study and diplomacy rather than focus on the skills of the other forms. It is a scholarly form." Mirran gave a slight grin. "You want me to go all out...ooookay...don't say I didn't warn you. I did so against...." Mirran's features suddenly paled. If she had eyes they would have gone wide. "Master...." Mirran's heart suddenly went thud in her chest. "My old master has returned...I feel her. She has come back...." It was true though...Mirran felt @Thuria Drinnaand Mirran wasn't sure if she should be happy or upset and angry. She had taken Mirran as a padawan and then promptly abandoned her and left her with no master at all. Mirran suddenly felt very pouty. "I am not sure I want her back in my life at all.... she took me on as a padawan learner then promptly left me with out telling me why." Mirran sighed. "Do Sith do such things?"
  15. Kal Vonnar

    Kal Vonnar Strength: C Agility: B Perception: A Endurance: C Willpower: A
  16. Thuria Drinna

    Thuria Drinna Strength: C Agility: B Perception: A Endurance: A Willpower: B
  17. Earlier
  18. Swift Reckoning

    'Just Sinha, there's a sure sign you didn't kriff it up,' thought Viraen. He took a good look at his fellow Mando'ad at this moment. She was shorter than he was, lean where he was well built, she was lean. Where his armor was mostly non-reflective matte black, hers was teal, black, and gold, with red, gold, and black patterning. Going by traditional armor colors, justice, vengeance and honoring a parent. Teal was a mix of blue and green, was that both duty and reliability? Safe to say that there was surely a story there, one that he wasn't aware of. As far as he could tell, she wasn't carrying many ranged weapons, whereas his loadout was focused on range. He didn't intend on getting on her bad side, and so he avoided performing any scans on her armor or equipment. Her spear, and her file, told him all he needed to know about her competence. She killed the old Mand'alor, she was more than capable. Her accent too, was interesting, Viraen had learned basic alongside Mando'a. Sinha, well, somehow Viraen doubted that was the case for her. Viraen nodded both in response to her request that they move to a secure comm frequency and that something wasn't quite right here. He wasn't a fan of staying on a relatively unsecured line like the one they were on either in the best of circumstances, but until they had a suit to suit link there was nothing more secure available. Once she was done opening a link to her suit, his HUD made him aware of the link, and after he navigated past the menus and various warnings that told him the 'dangers' of opening a link to another suit, he opened a link to his own suit's systems while accessing hers. He opened a picture in picture view of what she was seeing on the lower right hand corner of his HUD so that he could acclimatize himself to seeing what she was seeing. With the exception of atmospherics data, Viraen ignored the lifesigns for the moment, she was healthy enough to move and that was all that he cared about for the moment. He'd make her health his business if she started showing any signs that concerned him. For now, it was her business and her business alone. Clan Dreysel though, there was a name Viraen had heard before. Only now when he looked at its current clan leader did Viraen realize why. It was a name that was recently part of conversations at Mandalorian Tapcafes. Private bunch. Seemed that both his vode today came from very private clans. Only solid intel on them according to word around the Suuhymu'hbjavrars HQ was that they were Resol'nare adherent as well. In Viraen's, and most of the members of Clan Krydol's book, that made them stand up people. He'd also heard that they weren't the most predictable clan, but given their adherence to the Resol'nare, and their apparent fierce loyalty, that meant that Viraen would trust their Clan Leader almost as much as he was going to trust his own. More than he could say about the other woman, whom he knew next to nothing about. "'Elek, we were, a...Tece Tyr," answered Viraen, her voice over the new secured channel snapping him out of his thoughts. It took him a moment's thought to remember her name. "Nayc, vod, I didn't seen any of our vode here either." He paused for a moment as he remembered the bodies, plenty of aruetii corpses everywhere, none of their own. "Given the number of baar? I would agree with that assessment." Sinha had been spot on, given how quickly things must have gone to haran and back in a handbasket, he doubted that anyone in this section had much time to do anything but die. That however, didn't explain the mostly empty cargo bay, a bay like this should have been full. He hadn't noticed it when he'd come in, but the more time he spent in here, the more it occurred to him. "It didn't say on the brief, but wouldn't a bay like this in a place like this be a lot less...shabla ut'reeyah?" No sooner than the words had come out of his mouth did the passive mode of his motion sensors pick up movement at the entrance to the hangar. On passive mode, it relied on IR sensing, and hence had no chance of penetrating obstacles, but alerted him to potential approaching threats that didn't have obstacles between him and them. He'd seen the woman in the doorway thanks to the 360 degree field of view his helmet HUD afforded him. Her response perplexed him, her attire and equipment put him on edge, but it was her companion that forced him to choke back a laugh. A T7 droid? Kriffing really? In a place like this? Viraen turned around to face the new arrival, his rifle stayed where it was, but from the privacy of his HUD Viraen acquired a targeting solution for the electro-stun dart loaded launcher in his left shoulder. Viraen noticed that the woman had a pair of lightsabers at her waist, and was wearing what looked to Viraen like a variation of Jetii robes over her attire rather than beskar'gam. She was tall, sure, but Viraen knew better than most that when death stared you in the face it didn't matter if you were tall, short, muscled, lean or a shabla forty five galactic standard kilogram weakling. "Even if she is who I think she is, it never pays to be safe rather than sorry," said Viraen over their secure channel. If this was Tece Tyr, as Sinha's words seemed to suggest that's who she thought that this was, then Viraen was not looking forward to this at all. If this 'aruetii' that had recently joined the clan was a former Jetii, then he could see why they were keeping things so hush hush, and damn then for it.
  19. Character Sheet Rework

    Are these right? If they're not, we can change them. Thuria Drinna Strength: B Agility: B Perception: B Endurance: C Willpower: B Kal Vonnar Strength: B Agility: B Perception: C Endurance: C Willpower: C
  20. After a lot of RL stuff, I've finally found time to come back on this site and the forum. I'm back! :)

  21. One Dark Night

    (Some time after the Republic's rise to power, and well after the settlement of Niraun) It had taken time, but the Library was up and running - had been up and running - for months. In all that time, Verrin had met very few Sith, Jedi, or others of note. There were some stand-outs, for sure. He'd experienced a successful mission with a Madalorian named @Isa Sal , he'd handled an intervention with a Nautolan Jedi @Tala Vir, and he'd even taken to training a young Jedi woman, @Mirran Kai, who was having misgivings about her former allegiances, and was trying to understand the Sith. It was an unusual time, with Jedi and Sith working in such close proximity, and it had birthed opportunities for understanding that the galaxy had never seen before. But there was a shadow that hung over this new order, and this planet in particular. The number of Jedi and Sith who were supposedly grouped up here seemed terribly small, and left the impression that the initial attacks by the republic had really scattered them all over the galaxy. Verrin knew that remnants of the Empire still existed elsewhere, and that @Vansic Modun was rebuilding their forces. He also suspected the Jedi were doing something similar, and neither group was keen on the level of trust between them. They'd both prefer to play their cards closer to their chests, rather than band together against their common enemy in full. Conservative thinking seemed to be the way to roll... for now. But of the two groups that gathered on this planet, Verrin had expected to at least see his Jedi counterpart, @Homra Azner. The man had an office not eighty paces from Verrin's own, but he'd never seen it occupied. Sure, he spotted Jedi coming and going from the main Library floor... some young Sith too, and even a few Mandos and other non-Force-users. But the massive building just felt empty much of the time, as if the Force was focused elsewhere. If the republic found them, and attacked... would they be able to stand up to them, or would they crumple like a fragile house of cards? Those thoughts were in the front of Verrin's mind, preventing him from focusing on his research project. He was still attempting to craft a weapon imbued with the Dark Side itself, and while he understood how to do it - he possessed the necessary skill in the Force, and the knowledge of the rituals - he didn't yet have the components he wanted. The metal of the weapon had to be light enough that the blade could be manipulated with the speed of a lightsaber, strong enough to withstand contact with one - stronger, if possible - durable enough to survive the molecular manipulation that was required in the process, and available enough that he could complete the process before he was so old that he wouldn't be effective wielding it. Between the study and the thoughts on the state of affairs, Verrin was so engrossed that he missed the quiet click of his door. Either that, or he heard it, but assumed it was his faithful assistant, Maggie, coming to check on him. Suddenly, he was struck from the side, or more accurately, the back of his head. The blow was so strong that it couldn't have just been a fist, and would have knocked out a lesser being immediately. Verrin was a Zabrak though, and his skull was harder than most. That, and his horned head made direct contact with a pressure point difficult at best. Still, he went flying off the side of his desk chair and onto the black marble floor. It was difficult to argue with physics. He started to turn his head to see his assailant, but he was struck again - this blow in almost the same spot, turning his head back away and causing little lights to flash before his eyes. He needed to get on the ball, and quickly, gathering the Force to aid him. He started to rise to one knee. He heard a woman's voice hiss, "Again! Do NOT let up!" It was impossible to tell if the voice was human, nevermind Sith, Jedi, or otherwise. And it didn't matter, because a third, hard blow landed and sent his face into the floor. His nose broke on impact, sending even more flashy motes into his vision. The Force did come to him though. The pain was certainly strong enough to fuel him, and he got the sense that there were four people or things in the room with him. But it wasn't fast enough. He also felt that same Force shove him hard in the side, pushing him in a way that no individual could do to a prone person. He went flying across his office, and impacted the wall hard enough to break bones before he slid to the floor yet again. "Guh," he managed to spit out, tasting blood with it, but he wasn't really trying to speak. It was more an exhalation of air across vocal cords. Then there was a sharp, stabbing pain across his back - a second and third followed, and then a half dozen or so impacts to his ribs. Someone was cutting him... someone kicking him... He had to move, but he couldn't see, and breathing was difficult. He got a hand up in a warding gesture. The Force hit him again, lifting him up a few feet off the floor. The flashing stars in his vision only cleared enough for him to see a man-shaped outline before he was launched again. This time, he flew out of his office, and into the nearest massive bookshelf. Those shelves had traveled the galaxy - from Dromund Kaas, and Nogatan before that. They were big, heavy, and laden with the weight of the books on the shelves as well as durasteel shutters that could emerge to protect the contents. Speaking of contents, Verrin wondered where his Guardians were. Or at least, he wondered that until he hit the bookcase so hard that it rocked from the impact. The Force didn't stop there though, and continued to press him into the shelving as if he was an insect being crushed against the floor. The pressure was intense, but wince it was provided by the Force, he fought against it with the Force. His will was strong, and all of the pain he was feeling fed him with even more power. It was as if the Dark Side itself was helping him... wanting him to live. He heard a grunt as whoever was applying the Force to him felt his increasing resistance. "He's... pushing back..." A man's voice struggled to get out. Then the woman again, "Hit him again then! He's a Darth, for frack's sake! If you let up, we're all dead!" What was this, then? A coup? An assassination attempt? Verrin had been assaulted by both before, many times. Sith tried to take him out so they could claim his position in the Empire. Jedi wanted him dead because he was Sith. The Republic could hire out to kill the leadership of this tenuous alliance, and Verrin had been as supportive of both Sith and Jedi as anyone among the two factions. Mandos? Maybe for hire - but Verrin didn't think Isa, or even Corey Black, hated him enough to initiate this. He tried to push back some more... felt the pressure relenting... Another sharp crack to his already broken nose sent flashes into his mind, interrupting his focus. There was another stabbing sensation, and then the world started to go black. A final push from the Force sent the bookcase toppling - something that hadn't happened since Verrin fought Darth Parasis in his own rise to power - and he went over with it. The ensuing crash was likely heard throughout the building and beyond. It should have brought the Guardians running - if they were able. It should have been picked up by Maggie, or some security cameras, if they were active. It should have been witnessed by someone - if anyone was there. What it did do was buy Verrin some precious seconds as his attackers had to navigate the difficult terrain to get to him. Through the Force, he sensed two Light Siders, one Dark, and one who possessed none of it's gifts. He coughed... and more of his blood came up with it. He saw shadowy figures above him. He blacked out.
  22. Introductions

    I'm Corey, or Darian/Dar/Cauliflower... I'll answer to anything, as long as I know it's directed at me. Terrible at writing introductions. I love to watch characters grow, whether they're mine or others'. Been RPing in various forms for a number of years, and writing even longer. I think I must've been 15 when I wrote my first Star Wars fic piece, though I shudder when I look back on it now. Mandos have almost always been my go-to when it comes to writing, though I do dabble in writing Jedi, Sith, and others from time to time. I work full time, so there will be times -especially during busy season(s)- when I'll be hard pressed to respond as quickly as I'd like to, but I'll always do my best not to hold things up. Though he's still a little on the rough side in my head, Darian is going to be a Mando who prefers to use tech/slicing oriented solutions to problems, rather than outright violence, though like almost any Mando, he's capable of backing it up if he needs to. He went from Bounty Hunter to an Imperial Intelligence recruit, working his way up to full agent status, serving two Empires loyally. I'm still sketchy on the details of exactly how he comes to where he is now, tossing about the idea of him having been imprisoned by the Republic, and escaping during a riot, though he was injured at the time of his capture. I don't think he has any idea how he's gonna fit in to this new galaxy, but he'll crunch the numbers, figure it out.
  23. Swift Reckoning

    A flash of metal caught the light as Sihna slid one of her many throwing knives back into its hidden sheathe, the new arrival’s words crackling over her comm. One of her allies, it would seem, at least from his address. She wasn’t inclined to disbelieve the introduction, though she supposed there was always a small chance he was lying. But he’d known where to meet, was garbed in distinct beskar’gam, and even from his introduction his information conferred with her own. She had no special reason to distrust him. He’d stepped into the cargo bay, lowering his rifle as he did so. Even from across the room, her first thought was how shabla tall he was, towering over her by a good six inches, with a broader build than her own. Shab, were they ever going to send someone of a reasonable height to work with her? She probably only came up to his shoulder and was slimly built, and her teal and gold armour only gave her a couple of extra inches in height. Which was barely anything compared to the man dressed in matte black. She looked like his more colourful shadow. You’ve been in Wild Space too long, Sihna. You’ve forgotten just how short you are. “Just Sihna is fine, vod,” Sihna replied, her voice calm but with a note of humour in the words. Her voice was strongly accented with the brogue of Mando’a, a sure sign that it had been a first language for her, rather than a second or even learned alongside Basic. A hint to her past, though left unexplained. “Su cuy’gar. We should move to a secure comm. Something here… isn’t right.” It was a slim chance they’d be picked up, as they were on a known frequency for Mandalorians, but something at the back of her mind urged caution, a continued niggling doubt that they were missing something. Perhaps it was simply an aftereffect of her time spent below that dark moon with paranoia whispering into her mind, but Sihna had learned over the years to trust her instincts. Even when they were set off by something as simple as a cargo bay stripped to bare bones. Her left arm whirred softly as Sihna turned it to access her gauntlet, tapping in a command that extended a secure HUD link to Viraen. While not a comprehensive link, it allowed for them to share HUD data, lifesigns, atmospherics info, and a view through one another’s helmets. The secure comm link was embedded within the HUD link, allowing them to speak more freely without being picked up. There were more limited links available, but Sihna felt a show of at least some measure of trust might go a long way. They were vode, if unfamiliar to one another. It was high time Mandos started acting like a unified people again, rather than a fractured mass of clans and individuals barely held together. Small steps would built to greater trust. Even if it took years to patch the damages already done. The link extended, Sihna took the opportunity to assess her newfound companion, using her HUD to compensate for the blindness of her left eye. He was dressed entirely in matte black armour, with gold stripes adorning the front of his chest piece and helmet. Justice and Vengeance, if he had chosen traditional colour meanings. He was heavily armed, and Sihna had little doubt that there were a number of weapons spread about his person that she could not see. He was tall, as she’d noted when he walked into the cargo bay, and seemed to be in good shape. He’d need to be, if he’d climbed through a maintenance shaft to get here. In all, he seemed capable and ready for just about anything. Both good traits in a situation like this. He’d mentioned he was from clan Kyrdol, a fact corroborated by the intel Farren had passed along earlier. They were an… interesting bunch. Not one Sihna had crossed paths with often or knew much about, except that they had sided with the current Mand’alor in the civil war. She herself had not been in Mandalorian space during that time, but she’d been kept informed despite her absence. When she spoke again it was partly to test the new channel, but also in hopes of garnering more intel on the station and helping pinpoint what, exactly, was missing from their intel. “We’re supposed to have another vod join us, though the intel passed to me was...limited,” a twist in her voice indicated a wry smile, but her voice fell back to gravity with her next words. “Did you find any vode on your way here? I ran across plenty of neverd, but no Mando’ade… No survivors, either. It looks like there wasn’t time to evacuate this section before it all went to osik.” Sihna's attention, however, was diverted by the arrival of a third person. “Hello there.” Sihna lifted one eyebrow within the confines of her helmet, a small blade sliding easily into her palm as she shifted her weight. The twin lightsabers didn’t escape her notice, nor the lack of beskar’gam. But neither did the fact that the woman before them didn’t exactly look like a jetii, either… Long blonde hair was starkly contrasted by the woman’s dark clothing, overlaid with what looked almost like traditional jetii robes, but not… quite. The woman was tall - Osik, why was everyone so shabla tall? - and looked to be fit. A droid hung back behind the woman, a T7 model. Tece, perhaps? Sihna hoped so, but she’d been expecting a fully armoured Mando. The woman’s sleeve shifted slightly, offering the glimpse of a tattoo. Sihna relaxed ever so slightly, noting the Mandalorian sigil worked into the pattern. The woman’s hand was close to one of the sabers at her side, but she’d not drawn it yet. Something Sihna was choosing to take as a positive. “Mind introducing yourself, vod?” Sihna asked calmly, allowing her voice to carry through the speakers in her helmet. They gave her voice a slightly tinny tone, but the brogue of her accent still carried through strongly. Her words were cautious, though not unwelcoming. Not yet. “I believe I know who you are, but I'd rather be sure than end up with a saber in my spine." Sihna hadn’t sheathed the throwing blade she’d drawn yet nor released her spear, but she was careful to keep both weapons in a non-threatening position and her body language relaxed. She was ready to react, but there was no need to be seen as hostile...
  24. Swift Reckoning

    When Tece glanced around the corner she relaxed slightly, Those two are either disguising themselves as Mandalorians. Or they are my contacts. She thought looking back at R6, “Those look like the two we’re supposed to meet buddy. But let’s be careful.” R6 beeped quietly this time. Relaxing her hands off her sabres Tece moved around the corner and began to walk down the hallway towards the cargo bay. She stopped slightly when she reached the entrance and raised one hand over her head, “Hello there.” She called out to Sihna and Viraen. She stayed in her spot, watching both to see what they might do. One of her hands rested on her hip, just in reach of the lightsabre on that side of her body, just in case these two tried anything she was not going to like. R6 stayed slightly behind and to her right, also watching the pair.
  25. Swift Reckoning

    Mandalore, Suuhymu'hbjavrars HQ Landing Pad, long before deployment "She's a real beauty, isn't she?" asked al'verde Ikaan Kyrdol. The Suuhymu'hbjavrars commander was referring to the Beskad-class Patrol ship painted in the matte black paint scheme of the Suuhymu'hbjavrars. Viraen thought it was a good touch, even if there were those who thought that it might be best if there were less things painted in the favored paint scheme of the Wraiths. A black ship blended in with the void. One that combined that with a low sensor profile? It was every Wraith's wet dream. Viraen however was suspicious. He knew this was his ship, he could tell based on the fact that he was the only other person on the landing pad, and he was the only other Wraith team leader without one. He was also, coincidentally, still missing his team. Given that they weren't on the landing pad with him, Viraen had a bad feeling that he was about to be sent on another solo mission. Kriffing great. "Al'verde, with all due respect, cut to the shabla chase. There's something happening, isn't there? What is it this time, the Republic found a new super weapon that they're decided to unleash on us?" he asked, referring to the Mass Shadow generator used by the Republic before the Cold War. Ikaan turned to face him, looking away from the admittedly very impressive looking craft. There was a datapad in the man's hands. That meant that the intel had just come in, or he wasn't sure that Viraen was going to take the job. Neither possibility exactly enthralled Viraen. The entire thing reeked of an emergency, and those were usually shitshows. "No, but the Republic has attacked a research station being protected by a group of Mando'ade. We received their distress call not long ago. Help's already being scrambled from the other clans, but given the nature of the situation, we decided that we'd send one of our own," said Ikaan, handing the data slate over to him. Viraen examined the details. Independent research outpost in the outer rim. Mandalorians hired on as security. "Meaning because we like killing Republic chakaare and I was particularly good at it before they blew me up?" he asked. He swore he could see Ikaan rolling his eyes underneath his helmet. "And I'm the only Wrath who's sitting on his shebs?" Ikaan remained silent for a whole minute. "Alright, it's because you want me to find out why the Republic decided to hit this station and I'm the only one who's sitting on his shebs." "Viraen, I swear to Kad Ha'rangir that you've somehow become more of a pain in my shebs after the coma," breathed Ikaan. Viraen braced for impact, before Ikaan added, "And, somehow more entertaining. 'Lek vod, we want information, but if you can serve up your usual specialty of plenty of dead Republic shabuire, feel free. Information's a priority, the others can probably handle backing our vode up. That means if you see any of those SIS chaakare, I want them alive and in a position to start talking. I know how you feel about them, vod, but not this time." Viraen reluctantly nodded. He'd killed plenty, what was the harm in leaving one temporarily alive so they could get information out of them? "'Lek, al'verde. I'm your man. I have to ask though, what favors did you pull to get this delivered early?" asked Viraen, turning to face his commanding officer. "Me? Nothing. MandalMotors delivered it on their own, I just knew you'd be out on the pad when it arrived," said Ikaan, and Viraen just knew that his commanding officer had a devious grin on his face. 'Well, this is what you kriffing get for being predictable, di'kut,' he thought to himself, keying in the ramp's unlock code and walking up the ramp as it lowered. Current Time The translation to realspace was bound to happen at any point now. Viraen sat in his ship's pilot seat, reading through the personnel dossiers as he waited for his ship to drop out of hyperspace. First one was Sinha Dreysel. Clan leader of Clan Dreysel. Sinha herself was supposed to be the one that killed the former Mand'alor. Now that was impressive, and Viraen found a pang of jealousy surfacing amongst his thoughts, which he quickly brushed aside. "Looks like you're going to be in the presence of a celebrity, Viraen," he mumbled to himself. Next dossier was about someone named Tece Tyr. Clan Tyr, now there was a group of people you didn't hear about very much, or at all really. Apparently this 'Tece' was some aruetii who joined the clan, preaching about the virtues of force users and she was dini'la enough to think that she was going to get an audience with the Mand'alor. 'A shabla rela (nutcase)...could this get any better?' he thought to himself. Beeping from the ship's computers and flashing warning in his HUD alerted him to the fact that his ship was about drop out of hyperspace. Given that whatever ships had damaged the station were likely to still be in the area, Viraen deactivated the active sensor systems on his ship and activated the sensor dampener and bafflers to decrease his ship's sensor profile. He kept the thruster output low so that his ship was just coasting in toward the damaged section of the station. Viraen kept an eye out for any active distress beacons, IFF signatures or transmissions that his ship's passive sensors might pick up, as well as signs of any active sensor signatures. The plan as detailed to him by Ikaan was to approach the damaged section of the station, dock, and link up with the other Mandalorian reinforcements. As his ship got closer to the station and it showed up on his main display, Viraen let out a low whistle. "Republic really kriffed up this place..." he breathed. Taking hold of the controls once more, Viraen cut the engines completely and replied on maneuvering thrusters alone to maneuver, staying as close to the broken remains of the station as was possible to make detection as hard as was possible. The ship picked up a number of still serviceable docking collars. Moving into position, kept the ship in position before activating the coffer dam to create a link between the station and his ship that didn't involve locking both collars directly to one another, even if there was space to bring his ship that close to the station with all the debris around this particular collar. Shifting his ship to a low power state so that if he needed to get out in a hurry, he wouldn't have to wait for the ship's reactor to come online, Activating the ship's security systems before he left the bridge, he disconnected his HUD from the ship's systems and picked up his RT-97 heavy blaster rifle and made his way to the ventral airlock. Tapping in the code to cycle the ventral airlock, he stepped through and into the temporary link created by the coffer dam. Engaging his mag boots, Viraen made his way across and to the airlock on the station side. Luckily, the security codes for the outer airlocks had been provided, and so Viraen keyed them in after consulting the readout on his HUD. Consulting his demolitions sensors to ensure that the entry wasn't trapped before he stepped through, he kept his RT-97C up and shouldered as he stepped out into the hallway. A quick pulse from his life form scanner and bioscan told him exactly what he knew, that he didn't have to fear getting his shebs shot at in this part of the station. This part being the immediate hallway in front of him, and part of the hallway in front of that. Scanner range was severely restricted in the station, and so even though he was checking every hallway with a quick burst the moment he stepped into it, he was still relying on visual and audio cues. Listening for anything that didn't sound like a dying station. The station was frightfully cold, his temperature regulator activated automatically to prevent him from freezing to death. No doubt because it was breached in several locations. This only added to what made this more damaged part of the station, decidedly eerie. Flickering lighting and twisted floor and wall panelling left little to the imagination about what had happened here. There were bodies too, plenty of them. So far, none of them were wearing beskar'gam. Viraen was silently thankful for that. The silence however, was what was getting to him. His sound dampener meant that even the sound of his mag boots against the damaged deck plating was not audible to him. Viraen was used to not hearing his own footsteps, but in this case, any sound would be more comforting than this uneasy silence. Well, almost any sound. If this was some cheap horror vid, like some of the ones he'd been watching during his recovery period, some horrible and vile creature was bound to leap out and ambush him any moment now. Naturally, that didn't happen. His HUD told him what he already knew, that this place was kriffed up beyond belief. He'd shut down his datalink, preventing his systems from trying to interface with anything that was still partially functioning. Viraen was not someone who normally was uncomfortable in tight spaces, but he was feeling decidedly claustrophobic in these cramped, damaged halls. Viraen ducked and weaved around sparking, angry power cables as if they were carnivorous plants or vicious animals trying to take a bite out of him. All around him, damaged and scorched equipment sparked and screens flickered hopelessly. Viraen ignored what he saw, keeping his mind off what happened here, that was until he saw a section of fallen ventilation ducting amongst other cable housings. For a moment, Viraen considered judicious use of explosives to clear his way through, but damaging the station any further when it was already falling apart like this was not a wise idea. He could see a waypoint marked on his HUD where the cargo bay was estimated to be, indicating his current distance from it. The cargo bay was where he was supposed to RV with the others. It was clear to him that he was going to have to find another way through. It took some backtracking and searching, but Viraen finally found the maintenance accessway hatch. The only problem? The access panel was scorched. He debated prying the panel open and splicing a connection so that he could slice the digital lock, but if the panel was scorched then the electronics were probably fried too. Sighing, he took a step back and raised his right gauntlet at the door, warming up his fusion cutter. Walking over to the door, he turned the device on, and began cutting through. With some effort, he managed to cut through the hatch, allowing him to step through after a quick cursory check for defensive turrets or explosive charges. Thankfully, the maintenance duct was cramped as all haran, but clear enough. Save for the occasional groan of the walls and floor, the flickering of red emergency lighting or the sparking of severed cables the trip was largely uneventful. With the waypoint marker showing the cargo bay to be under him, Viraen continued taking the maintenance accessway till he found a door, presumably to let maintenance out near the cargo bay. Performing a quick check for explosives, weapons and life signs with a pulse from his demolitions scanner and bioscan, he tried the switch for the door. Thankfully, the door opened. Scanner range had been severely limited, according to the debug feed it wasn't averaging only enough to allow him to get a look around the next corner or through the next wall without him having to stick his head in places where it might get shot. One of the benefits of having a three hundred sixty degree field of view was that you didn't have to turn your head to check both sides of a hall. Instead, Viraen pointed his rifle down the right side and his left gauntlet mounted weapons down the left while leaning out into the hall. Scanners said that there was nothing there, but that didn't mean osik at this point. Besides, being paranoid till this juncture on the station had served him well thus far, there was no reason to stop now. If his HUD marker could be trusted, the cargo bay was to the right. Technology broke, people didn't, and no one put a door to the large room of a cargo bay at the short end of a hall on a station. It helped to verify what your armor's computers told you was the truth with what you knew made sense. So far, he hadn't found there to be a discrepancy. Replacing his hand back on the fore end of his rifle, just before where the barrel protruded. He made his way slowly down the hall, before checking the cargo bay standing beside it. Going through the walls was still problematic, but the open space of the cargo bay didn't offer too much interference. Life form scanners picked up one target in the bay, weapon scanners didn't pick up anything significant, low return signature. Well, this was either his ally, someone with insufficient ranged weapons to kill him before he vanished and got out of their reach, or someone with enough sensor dampening that this was going to be a long game of strill and vheviin with constantly changing roles. Viraen quickly stepped into the bay, looking around quickly, and then lowering his weapon when he saw another Mandalorian. A woman, with a large bevii'ragir. If he remembered the dossier, this had to be Sinha Dreysel. Or it could be Tece Tyr, he knew precious little about that woman. Using short ranged helmet to helmet comms on known Mando frequencies, he took his chances, "Aliit Alor Sinha Dreysel I presume? Viraen Kyrdol, sorry for the delay. Had to find another way to get here, and maintenance accessways aren't exactly made for a Mando in full beskar'gam." Once more, he found himself praying to that katdape (miserable) shabuir Kad Ha'rangir, if even existed, that he didn't mistake her for someone else. He was in no mood to piss off another Mando'ade woman, again.
  26. Big 2019 Update

    I will be lending a hand to those that want or need threads transferred as I have access to the site and can archive them in the special forum immediately.
  27. Big 2019 Update

    Greetings ~ I come to you with a lot of news, so while thia post shall be quite lengthy, please read through it all. Should you have questions at the end of my broadcast, please feel free to contact me on site or in our discord chat (direct message preferred). First and foremost, whether you are a new member or have been here for ages, it is and should be known that our site owner has been away from the virtual world for some time due to real life circumstances. I have managed to get into touch with her enough times to be given her blessing in taking the reins until her return, and following through with plans made before her ascension to site owner. The other most pressing matter to bring up is the fact we will be changing from ipboards to jcinck. This has been a long time in the making, mostly due to the multiple and consistent technical issues we run into with our current host. The other issue is the ever changing terms of service that continuously limit our writing content. "Woah, wait there Kitty! I have way too much content on here to save with such short notice!" The transfer will not be immediate per say - with any luck, I will have the structure/layout set up (minus graphics) by Monday EST. While myself and my team of loyal minions have to tediously move everything in a copy-paste manner, our focus will be on the key components versus every character's past roleplay thread. I highly suggest using google documents, a notepad, word document, and so forth that you have available to save anything you value regarding your character(s). With the new site comes a new and fresh look, a sense of freedom and creativity that have long since been lost here. Rules will become more generic versus restricting, character creation will become a much more smooth process, and lastly roleplay will be about interacting with eachother and collaborating on storytelling once more. Naturally part of this creative freedom involves our Forge. We have a specific team that have discussed how to improve that whole section, how to entice everyone to dabble with it; the answer was to simplify the process while broadening the subject matters. Our staff are tirelessly working on finding a way to literally let you mold the galaxy by opening up species (hybrids and near-human) and planet customization! They need volunteers for testing the specs out, though, so if you are interested then please contact Kure (Tenebris). Any additional information will be added in separate posts. Thank you for your time, lovelies! <3 TLDR: > i am the captain now > forum being changed to jcinck > more creative freedom > forge being streamlined - need volunteers
  28. Swift Reckoning

    Tece closed the comms on her ship down, So they’re actually giving me something. Or perhaps because I’m the closest nearby. She smirked a little at her own joke, “R6 looks like we’ve got some people to save.” Some beeping and whistles came from her droid’s station, “Yes I know. We will be careful. Sounds like things got hairy in there.” Another beep, “Come on. I can be careful.” R6 whistled twice at her, “That was ONE time.” She replied, pressing a few buttons on her panel, programing the destination into her navigational computer and letting the ship’s system do the rest. When her ship got close enough to bring up the station on screen Tece took a deep breath, “Looks like the Republic really did a number on this place.” R6 beeped, “Yeah I know. Can’t really think about how many died here R6. We’d go mad. Well, I would.” She smiled down at her droid, “Let’s go meet our fellows.” She took direct control of the corvette and steered it through the wall of debris that surrounded the station. Carefully maneuvering her ship through it she came up to one of the still functioning docking ports. Pulling inside she set the ship down, “I don’t like this R6. I know we’re meeting with some others. But this place feels wrong.” She commented. As soon as she had turned off her ship’s systems the silence had encompassed her like an unwelcomed embrace. R6 whistled at her, “Yeah. Let’s go meet the others. What? Did you think I was going to leave you here alone little buddy? In this creepy place, not a chance.” She patted the droid’s head section with a smile on her face while climbing out of her chair. When she stepped out of the corvette she surveyed the hangar around them, “Lock down the ship R6. Don’t want anyone to get any ideas while we’re gone.” She said before the droid left the ship. When she heard the sound of the ship’s system secured she relaxed a little, but only slightly. Keeping one hand on one of her sabres she walked with R6 out of the hangar towards the rendezvous point. Everywhere they went the signs of the damage this station took was clear, “What reason could the Republic have for doing this much damage to a simple research outpost?” R6 beeped as it dodged a thrashing cable that whipped around like a Sarlaac tongue looking for prey, “You have a point. I guess if they found whatever it was that they went to so much trouble for, how much trouble are our people in?” She thought when she saw their path ahead was blocked by debris, “Well.” She paused for a second, “I could get through this. You however.” She glanced down at R6, “You really need to stop packing in so many bolts R6.” The droid beeped, “Just kidding. Give me a second.” Closing her eyes for a second she focused her mind and extended her hands. Opening her palms towards the debris she began to lift it with the Force. Grunting with exertion she lifted the debris over so it was laying along the one wall, letting the pair of them have a path forward. Tece sighed with relief when the debris hit the ground, “I know. Still working on that pal.” She glanced back at R6 and shrugged, “At least we have a way forward now.” R6 rolled forward beeping slightly, “We all have our skills R6.” She tapped the side of his head section on the way past before walking with him. The pair kept moving through the halls for a few more minutes until they reached a T-section pathway, “So any idea which way?” She looked down at R6 who turned his head to look up at her and beeped, “Yeah me neither. Maybe if we…..” She went silent when she thought she heard something. Carefully she took both sabres off her hips and moved as quietly as she could manage to rest her back against one of the walls. Cautiously Tece leaned around the corner, trying to see who, or what might be there.
  29. Announcement will be up tonight within 6 hours.

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