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Karter

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127 Kind of a Big Deal

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About Karter

  • Rank
    Knight Of Sangraal

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  • Alignment
    Corruption I
  • Social Point Purchases
    (Light Freighter) XS Stock Light Freighter - 10SP
  • Gender
    Not Telling
  • Main Account
    Alex Murphy
  • Social Points
    5

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  1. One Ping Only

    "Ok, how's this? They've established some sort of semi-sovereign territory. The Jedi Reaches. Also, I have reason to believe that based on previous...leads...that they've moved a great deal of their operations to a place called Jeddha. The temple at Coruscant has only a relatively small force to protect it, but Dantooine is active, and the Mandalorians are still trying to pick themselves up...their space is intact, but that's about it. Virtually no patrols on the outer rim, and the unknown regions remain as unknown as ever. The Republic is militarily exhausted, as far as I can tell. Jedi Shadows are still active active...had to kill one last week. But mostly, its been pretty quiet, these days," Karter answered in a hushed tone, not taking a drink when it was brought. "Hell, its been so quiet even the termites that always infest the woodwork during times like these are keeping low. And believe me, there are still plenty of those..." "Termites?" The Agent asked in curiosity. "Dark Jedi," Karter clarified. "The Jedi haven't even managed to really put a dent in that category, because someone is always going bad somewhere," "And how would you know of such things?" The Agent asked. "Blunt answer? Pew Pew!" Karter muttered back quietly, making a gun gesture with his hand. Karter took a look at the drink that had been brought. He eyed the amber liquid, contemplating it. "Good, news, with the Republic so strainec for resources, its become somewhat easier to smuggle sensitive Items...or information. Messages. Small scale action is easier. Large scale will still draw heavy retribution...but the Republic is slower to act. Its supposed to be 'peacetime' after all...and the Jedi even have their own military branch operating in the areas they control. Peacekeepers. They use this really nasty repeating pistol weapon sometimes. Good armor too. They have establishments on Jeddha as well. New ships for the Jedi too. Scaling back all those defender-class ships for a modified XS. Dunno where the old ships are going. If I do learn...you'll have to pay me for the info," he finished. Still not taking a sip. He was glad he hadn't, because that damn Twi'lek who SHOULD have gotten his manhood blasted into confetti by that woman ran his mouth off. The Dark Side screamed warnings as the telltale whine of blasters powering up told him how the next few minutes were about to go. Karter stared at the agent. "Might want to get clear of me." The Agent got away when he saw Karter's eyes go yellow. He and the other quickly headed for the exit. "Freeze, Darksider!" One of the Mercs shouted as the Agent cleared away from the seat. Karter stared at the Twi'lek. "I'm going to remember this, just so you know. One of these days, I'm going to be hiding under your bed, just listening to you snore. You won't see me of course..but I'll be there." The Mandalorian had a flamethrower in his gauntlet pointed at him. "Don't move," the man growled under his helmet. "Question...the bounty on my head...how do you all plan to collect?" Karter asked every merc in the room. "Surely you all don't plan to share..." A few mercs in every area paused, looking nervously at each other. "What," Karter asked. "You really think fifty thousand will spread easily? You think that gorram Mando will take any less than the sandpanther's share of it?" The mercs kept their weapons trained on him. "We can always kill you first, than sort it out after," the Mandalorian growled. "Big talk," Karter growled, "I dunno how many guys I'm going to get out of all this, but I know I am definitely killing you." The Mandalorian fired his flamethrower just as Karter cloaked and dived out of the way of blasterfire, struggling to maintain his full concentration to stay cloaked as he broke into a desperate dash while invisible, but the Mandalorian's thermal sensors detected him. "THERE!" The Mando shouted shooting at him just as he dived over another bar counter, the shroud failing as the counter was peppered with blasterfire. It was a thick counter, and some of the bolts didn't go through but what did barely cleared over a crawling Dark Jedi, who shot the Bartender as he reached for a scattergun under the desk. His Force Sense screamed violently in his mind, forcing him to roll over and shoot three more mercs just as they drew close to the counter, his reflexes and adrenaline kicking into overdrive as he Force pushing one of the corpses whose head he'd just put a hole in that had started to fall from the lethal shot into another crowd of quickly approaching mercenaries. The Force screamed another warning and he glanced up, just in time to see the Mandalorian leaning over the counter with the flamethrower gauntlet. He fired it without hesitation. All his strength in the Force focused outward as the Fire rushed toward him. He held his breath, knowing what would happen next would suck the oxygen out of his immediate area. Pushing his will to live, he called on his rage and hatred of the Jedi to save him as his will connected with the flames, cocooning around him and refusing to touch him, instead violently spreading out to the rest of the counter, the flames masking him from sight. His terror amped up as a number of blasterbolts were fired into the general zone where he was. One nearly hitting his arm as he desperately amped the flames intensity around the counter, letting it spread, barely managing to spare enough concentration to open fire back at the Mandalorian's general direction, where some part of him in the back of his brain knew the bastard's head had been moments before. He heard the Mando cry out through the helmet, caught by surprise as the bolt nearly got through his reinforced visor. He stumbled back in pain, the heat having transferred to his face. Swearing revenge, he charged back to the counter, roaring, only for the flames to push back from the counter and grow larger and larger, pushing back other mercs. "HE'S STILL ALIVE!" one of them yelled, backing off as the spreading flames crept outward from the counter ever faster. Everyone began opening fire in volleys, but Karter was still on the ground behind the counter, the flames just barely staying away from him in the inferno he had created. He called on his fury to bolster the fire, watching bolts come in swarms over his head. But they still could not see him, and the intense heat was no doubt interfering with even the Mandalorian's helmet sensors. But he was sweating badly, and the longer he stayed in one place, the more likely it was the next bolt would kill him. But the blaster bolts swarmed over him, and even though the fires and heat were keeping many of them away so far, it was only a matter of time before... A grenade landed next to his head. Sonic. Forced to let go of his control over the fire, he banished the fire cocoon away from him, creating a laughably small area where the flames were not directly touching him, desperately grabbing the grenade and focusing his will to survive and the Force to disrupt its circuitry for a precious few seconds, preventing it from detonating so his lightsaber could come out from his sleeve and melt through it with a button press. Movement out of the corner of his eye made him shift the blade right when the Dark Side told him to, catching a bolt aimed at his face. He blind fired back, hitting his attacker. The world seemed to slow down as he spotted four more fast approaching, all firing. His arm extended he opened fire on all of them with quick, fleeting trigger pulls, guided as much by instinct and the Force as his old police training. His lightsaber caught two bolts aimed from them with a quick swipe but a third grazed him in the thigh, just as the fires he had barely kept away not twenty seconds ago when all this had happened started to creep up his pant leg. As he was starting to burn he spotted the Mandalorian, bearing down on him with a scattergun, pump action, stock and barrel sawed off. Karter thought fast as the barrel was pointed at his head. Survival and adrenaline making ignore the fact his pant leg was on fire he Force-pulled the Mandalorian towards him, making him stumble as he fired, the blast almost completely missing him, save for two pellets, one that grazed his cheek, blasting the tip of his left ear lobe off, and another which embedded itself in the outer tissue layer of his left thigh. As the Mandalorian recovered a second later, Karter swiped his lightsaber across an unarmored wrist, and the Mandalorian snarled in pain and rage as his left hand sported a severe, deep cut, partly saved only by the armorweave underneath, trying to dive over the counter and grab his neck with what looked to be a crushgaunt covering his right hand. He barely shifted his neck out of the warrior's reach, Force-pushing him away hard in retaliation, wheeling his blaster around to kill three more men at his twelve-o-clock, and because he was still pinned to the floor, he had to shoot them from an upside-down perspective. And just noticing the fire creeping up his pantleg, he shot a large bottle of seltzer on a shelf above his leg, and the blasted open container spashed the fire on his leg out, though most of it evaporated from the heat of the bolt before even reaching his skin. It had barely worked. Too much fear, rage, and hatred coursing into his mind made most of the pain not register, and he roared as he gave into those emotions, cutting off his body from all sensation of pain as he used an old trick he learned on Deralia started to work...Force Rage. He shot up, front flipping over the counter, barely dodging a locust hoard of blasterfire as he went through a few people in front of him, hacking with wide, frenzy filled lightsaber slashes, killing his way up to the second floor, batting away all blasterfire in front him, bleeding badly now, his Force reserves starting to reach their limit. He hadn't killed even a quarter of them. Not even close. Either he left this place somehow in the next minute or he would never leave at all. The one good thing about his Form One though was that he knew it well...put a crowd in front of him and as long as there wasn't any Jedi in the crowd, he might as well be a lawnmower for people. And that was exactly how he acted, slashing and hacking and chopping through limb, torso, and weapon in an chaotic pattern through four more up the smooth, twisting ramp leading to the second floor. Where he saw a series of transparisteel windows, none open... And what looked like the entrance to an outdoor portion of the Cantina, built for enjoying sunsets. All that stood between him and it were eighteen mercenaries...and all the ones daring to follow him up the ramp. Including that Mandalorian, now clutching a Beskad with his right hand. He was leading the charge. He would not make it there, not with those mercs behind him. He just wanted them to think that was where he was going. He moved forward, knowing his Force Reserves were nearly exhausted. His vision started to get fuzzy as he moved forward, slashing and slashing in wide, deadly arcs in front of him, not feeling the bolts that hit him dead on in the thigh and shin and shoulder as his blade hacked through three meen in wide sweeps through their Torso, twisting his body in unison with his blade as he sliced through three more, he turned, swiping the angry slice of a beskad away, not daring to stop moving for it would have meant death. His blade's wide, angry red arcs cut through another two, and the remaining ones started to panic and scatter as he kept his relentless charge forward another bolt flying past him as he slashed through one more-- The Mandalorian roared, tackling him over the second floor railing. THAT had not been part of the plan, a part of Karter not seized by the deadly rage thought as they tumbled through the air, the Mandalorian breaking a rib with a solid punch as they both landed on an abandoned card table, smashing through it as they hit. The Mandalorian rolled away, as Karter struggled up, pointing at him with his wrist gauntlet, launching a dart from it. The dart was so close to hitting it passed through Karter's partly burnt hair, brushing through it as he lunged madly at full speed, a stab aimed at the part of the visor that had been damaged earlier in their fight. The Mando blocked with his beskad, raining down heavy one handed chops in retaliation, the short length of his blade and his close proximity forcing Karter back into an alcove. The Other Mercs quickly started to head down, watching, waiting for a clear shot at Karter's head. He could not even really hear that well at this point. He had barely managed to keep himself immersed in his Force Rage during the fall. It was sheer blind luck he hadn't cracked his skull or broken his neck during the fall. But he had sworn to kill this Mandalorian. He WOULD kill this Mandalorian. And then he would escape. As the Mandalorian swung the Beskad yet again, Karter darted out of the way, moving his head right of the alcove's center. The beskad impacted on wall... ...and the Mandalorian's helmet smashed into his jaw partly. A half successful Keldabe Kiss. His mouth went bloody as he stumbled backward, spitting out two teeth, rage and fear the only things keeping him from blacking out as his lightsaber tumbled from his hand and he fell backward into the seat installed in the alcove. "No more tricks, Darksider," the Mandalorian snarled as he reached forward to seize Karter's neck with the crushgaunt and break it. Karter summoned sheer will to lift his hands up in time to stop the Mandalorian's gauntlet with both hands furiously kicking that helmeted head with whatever strength he could still summon. The Mandalorian struggled violently, covering him as the other mercs got into position in case he failed. Karter could barely breath struggling with his heavy opponent, who tried to headbutt him again, only for Karter violently shift the Mandalorian to the right, slamming his head into the alcove wall repeatedly, stunning him. Karter spotted a glint on the Mandalorian's hip and seized it. His blaster. He ripped it out of the holster, jamming it under the Mandalorian's helmet just as his crushgaunt finally started to loop around his throat and fired as fast as he could pull the trigger. The bolts burned through the armorweave cloth in milliseconds from repeat fire at such close range and the Mandalorian fell dead on top, just as the other mercs started to fire. He used the armored corpse atop him for cover as he returned fire blindly, refusing to black out, even as every pain and injury started to catch up. Adrenaline and fear could only do so much. He needed to leave now. Bolts peppered the alcove most focused on hitting the man hiding under a beskar-covered corpse. He fired back with heavy blaster, nearly blinded in one eye as a bolt glanced dangerously close to him. That had almost been it for him, right there. In the chaos and smoke he spotted one merc with a heavy blaster rifle...and something spherical on his belt. A grenade. The merc took it off his belt and hit the activation switch, Karter fired at the arm in the chaos, though it took a couple of tries before he actually hit it, still focused on hiding under that dead body. The merc screamed dropping the grenade, and it detonated close. Karter yelled as a piece of the shrapnel went into his arm. But it forced the mercs backward, killing five and creating a whole new fire in his general area. He was reaching the last vestige of his reserves. No time left. Leave or die. While some of the mercs scrambled away from the fire, some were already trying to get closer for another shot. His brain wracked itself for ideas before he felt something cylindrical on the Mandalorian's belt. He pulled it off, barely registered it as a smoke grenade before he activated and tossed it, and a cloud of puffy white smoke quickly filled the area up on the ground floor. A wide, quick dispersal. He spotted the door he had come in, fifteen meters from him. Now or never. Hurling the corpse off with all his might, his will to live made him stand up, forced him to ignore the pain as he broke into a run, grabbing his lightsaber. Blaster bolts whizzed in front and behind him through the smoke and a shadow in it made him open fire by instinct, dropping the thermal goggle equipped bounty hunter about to shoot him in the throat. He hadn't even really made a dent in the cantina's population. Yet another bolt nearly hit him in the head, and it was only because he slipped into some blood that he stumbled, causing his head to move out of the way at just the right second. He shot the merc in the skull when he regained his balance a half second later, barely reaching the doors and finding himself in the crowded, cluttered streets, he ran, blindly, barely able to stand, barely able to even blink, naked survival forcing him to keep moving, bleeding, burned, and with a hoard of bounty hunters storming out of the cantina to chase him. Everyone was chasing him it seemed. He darted down an alley, exhaustion making each second unbearable agony as his body screamed for rest. Karter knew he could not stop. He hated his enemies too much to just drop dead here. He looked for somewhere, anywhere, that he could hide. He spotted a dumpster. No , too obvious. He glanced behind him. The mercs had not turned down this alley yet. They would soon. He was trailing blood. He spotted a manhole in the ground, along with a tall street lamp. He opened it, smearing his blood near the entrance and leaving the lid off. He spotted what looked to be an emergency fire escape. Its railings were made of reinforced durasteel. The Dark Jedi nearly collapsed, about to run out of energy completely. He hurt everywhere, and he needed to think fast if he wanted to live. He summoned all his focus, all his remaining concentration, and Force -jumped to the second story railing, eliminating any blood trail he would have left by walking up the fire escape. He barely caught it, his weakened state forcing him to pull with all his might upward, nearly falling unconscious for a few seconds once he had actually managed. Barely able to think, he wiped the blood he had left on the railing up with his sleeve and wearily began making the climb up the escape, crawling to the top by the time he was done and rolling onto the rooftop of a apartment slum. He saw an air speeder approaching. He had no ideas left. No energy. Spent. He was about to black out. The speeder settled on the rooftop. The hatch opened. It was one of the agents from the bar.
  2. In The Land Of The Barabel!

    Karter's face was smashed. He had blood coming out of one ear, and he could barely stand, in agony everywhere. Too much pain to use the Force, even IF he didn't think doing so would kill him from the strain. And Kal... Kal was smiling, the bastard was actually smiling. Karter wanted to laugh, in spite of this. "This Job is," Karter slurred in reply to Kal's question, fighting a massive migraine. He was lucky he wasn't concussed. His nose was still broken though. He went to the chieftain's vibrosword, yanking it out of the ground. A nice, heavy piece. He stared at the chieftain's vessel. Looked like a modified Republic shuttle. He headed up the craft, staggering, holding his side, struggling to stay conscious. He took note of the interior. Modded for luxury travel, or what the Barabel considered luxury... he saw a lot of the cargo space had been retrofitted with a bacta tank, though it looked completely empty of the healing chemical. He went to the cockpit after tossing the sword aside and checked the controls. They were in basic. Must have been a new model. Karter staggered back down the ship after a few moments, weakly dragging the body of the chieftain up the ramp. "It'll be dawn soon. You need to find a cave. A deep one, to hide us in from the radiation. I'm too messed up to fly," he coughed out, bleeding from his mouth. "We'll wait it out until night hits again. Then we venture out and bring our ship back to where we hide this one. Then we strip this shuttle of anything valuable and add it to our own vessel. We clear on the plan?" Karter asked, still slurring his words, clearly barely able to stand. He also offered up some minor praise. "Well done," he muttered, heading back up the ramp. He was too tired to think. He headed to the cockpit and slumped into the co-pilots seat, sullen and burnt and bruised.
  3. One Ping Only

    So they were fishing, Karter thought, as he watched a Mandalorian give out some minor information. One of the agents headed his way, and Karter decided to get involved. Because first a Sith Vessel turns up and then two locals come into a mercenary cantina and start chatting. He needed an opportunity. And besides, even a tiny window into what the Sith were up to was valuable. "So," the Agent said, sitting down next to him. "Now that Peace has been declared by the Republic, how does everyone here keep finding work?" "Oh, that's the thing about Peace...it don't really exist. Thus...we never really run out of work." "You're still finding steady work?" "Oh," Karter said with a snort. "You bet." "Must be up on current events then, in your travels." "Fairly." "Such as?" "What's it worth to you?" A One hundred credit chit was placed in front of him. Karter took it. "Specific interests?" "Hmmm...what might you know of the current state of the Republic?" "I know they are scaling down their operations for the most part. Almost no presence on the outer rim. The war exhausted them badly. Their Jedi Protectors are mostly stationed on Dantooine. Its wild lands at this point." "They've moved to Dantooine? How you know?" "I tailed one." "You tailed a Jedi?" "At a great distance, yes." "I see." The Agent said. "Must have been difficult, not getting spotted." "It was." "I don't suppose you might be willing to try a crazy stunt like that in the future?" "If the price is right," Karter admitted, though in truth, he followed Jedi anyway, from time to time." There was a commotion not far from him and he saw a green twilek man slide his lekku off a women's shoulder after a blaster was pointed at his groin. "Ten credits says she blows them off anyway," Karter muttered, watching the spectacle play out. He turned back to the agent. "So...say I made 'tailing' a regular thing. What do you think that would be worth? To you, I mean?" Karter asked.
  4. One Ping Only

    It wasn't often he took time off to think anymore. Karter had come to Nar Shaddaa on yet more business for Rejekk the Hutt, but that had been settled hours ago. Now he was just... ...Alone. He had taken to wandering the bowels of Nar Shaddaa's streets the past few hours, armed only with his pistols, and the lightsaber of that witch from Tattooine hidden up his sleeve. He wore his jacket hood drawn fully over his face. He wasn't sure why he had taken this one and not his regular. He had told himself it was to familiarize with the weapon, get a feel for its balance, how it handled. But as he felt the bone integrated into its hilt, felt the traces of the vicious witch that had got into his head still within the crystal itself, he realized it was because he was reflecting on her words. He hadn't wanted to admit it but they were starting to get to him. Uncomfortably, the more he reflected on the lessons learned at Tattooine the more he started to empathize with the twisted point of view than was wise. He was keeping his signature concealed but he had learned to drop it occasionally so he could sense any Jedi that might have caught wind and tried to stalk him. He was reevaluating his situation in light of the Republic crushing the Sith Empire. Everywhere was unfriendly territory. Only the outer rim was a relatively safe bet but Jedi Shadows have no jurisdiction when it comes to hunting Dark Siders. The so called "good guys" had won. Once again. Karter felt a deep sense of shame at the thought that at one time, he would have been proud to be among them. But he had no respect left. As he dropped his signature concealment he opened his senses to the world around him. And he felt...something... ...something dark. Darker than anything he had felt in months. ...and then vanished just as suddenly. His first instinct was to bring his concealment back up and walk the other way. That could be anything. Anyone. But the thing is... ...Karter was curious. So when he put his signature back under concealment, he continued in the direction he had sensed something from...it was close to the docks. He could get there if he hurried. He moved through the alleys, taking the fast route he had discovered and memorized to get to the deeply crowded parts. He took a route through construction scaffolding to get a better view of the general area of where he had sensed it. He took out a small pair of electronic binoculars as he surveyed what looked like a docking pad with... Karter stopped cold. It was a Fury Class Interceptor. Looked old, and battle scarred. He was about two stories above, and over ninety meters from the pad itself, facing it from its right side. He saw a man exit the craft. Purple. Zabrak. Karter could not make out his features too finely. They looked slightly familiar, but he was too far away. And almost to another ship, this one far more broken down looking. Karter had some decision making to do. Furys were only given to Sith. He knew that much from his days on Vornu. They had never managed to nab an intact one. Just parts. At least, as far as he knew. Karter withdrew. His curiosity had been satisfied, and he had no idea who owned that vessel. He might be able to survive a Sith Warrior but even he knew his chances of winning against an actual Inquisitor was dicey prospects at best. He headed down the scaffolding, back to the street, where he made a long circuitous route until he arrived and sequestered himself into a large, poorly lit Cantina that was known to be a local hangout for mercenaries. He ordered a drink and didn't sip, thinking about whether to go back and investigate that ship when he saw two men enter. They didn't look local. Not enough dirt. Not enough of the cut-throat look Nar Shaddaa fostered. But they looked like they could blend in an emergency. Karter had worked jobs undercover for the police, and he knew enough to know when sharks had entered the room trying not to look like sharks. He turned away casually, didn't take a sip, waiting to see what the two strange men would do. He wasn't sure if it was the Force or common sense, but his gut told him these were not ordinary players. It remained to see what they wanted.
  5. In The Land Of The Barabel!

    As Karter choked and was struggling not to black out he heard Kal try to taunt the Barabel. He growled but otherwise kept choking Karter, understanding clearly who the bigger threat was. "Shoot him!" Karter choked out. "You have to shoot him!" Karter just barely managed to find the adrenaline necessary to barely force the hands away from his throat. But the Barabel Chieftain was stronger than him, and he could only heave as much air in as he could to think. "NOW WOULD BE A REALLY GOOD TIME!" he yelled at Kal again. And then, the hands closed back around him, and Karter began to feel his vision blur. Terror and rage gripped him and he began frantically punching the chieftain's ribs, instinctively calling on his pyrokinetic abilities. Karter's first strike set the chest on fire, and a punch to the jaw ignited the face. The Chieftain snarled, but still refused to stop choking him and Karter's pants also caught fire. The Chieftain roared, rolling off him, and Karter weakly rolled around, frantically looking for his lightsaber as the chieftain put out the blaze, still snarling in agony, but he broke into a run for Kal, desperate to get the blaster out of his hands and shoot Karter.
  6. To all I owe posts to:

     

    Posts will occur definitely by tonight and tomorrow. Apologies for the delays.

    1. Thuria Drinna

      Thuria Drinna

      You're fine. :) I'm not in a hurry. :)

    2. Dantius Octavian

      Dantius Octavian

      It's all good man. As long as we get done in the littlest time possible. :) Thanks for your help, either way.

    3. Mirran Kai

      Mirran Kai

      Ob la di, ob-la-da life goes on.,,,

       

      No worries. RL can be harsh. 

  7. Plotters- Jean Lyell

    Would a dark Jedi be an acceptable antagonist?
  8. In The Land Of The Barabel!

    Karter, as he watched Kal run from the Durgolosk, was forced to shoot the remaining guards not attempting to flee in terror from his own cover. He moved quickly. Careful to avoid the Durgolosk as it attacked Vonnar, he focused his blaster fire on the ones trying to shoot at Vonnar. The Durgolosk had completely swept him from everyone's mind. Not that he was upset about that but still... At least Kal could put his credits where his mouth was. Karter put two more sonic bolts into the heads of the last two guards just as Kal finished killing the Durgolosk. His first kill of any significance. Good shots too: Precise, thought out, though he wondered how much of that was Kal and how much...wasn't. Regardless, there was still one matter to settle. The Chieftain, backed into a corner, had finally drawn his vibrosword, the blade having a wavy, Kris like blade, with a contoured, curved grip with a red sash affixed to it. He hissed something threatening to both of them and gestured, basically, to come and get him. Karter drew his lightsaber, sliding into his form one stance, blade held upright and to his side and approached, slowly. It would have been a simple matter to kill him from long range, but Karter's sonic blaster was out of ammo, he had expended himself greatly just killing his protectors, and he wanted to prove to himself just how far he had advanced in his swordsmanship. He charged, aiming a deadly, wide red slash at the chieftains right shoulder. But the chieftain deflected it and shifted his stance to more aggressive one, immediately pressing forward with an aggressive vertical chop that Karter barely deflected himself. The two circled each other studying the other's weapon. Karter shifted forward, but the wound he had suffered earlier to his leg caused him to stumble, and the chieftain took full advantage, sidestepping his attempted striking down again with a vertical slice that would have split Karter's head in two, had not Karter quickly backed away with a simple high horizontal block but the weakness had been revealed. The Chieftain started to relentlessly attack the leg, and Karter was forced to back away more parrying swordswipes with a crushing strength to them that made every bone in his hands rattle just forcing it aside. Vibroswords cuts here might cause him to bleed out, even if he used Force Body to stay standing. The Chieftain increased the speed of his swings, moving with the weight of the sword, preplanning his attacks. Each blocked strike transferred down his wounded leg, and only his pride and willpower seemed to be keeping him standing. His lightsaber parried another blow, and in desperation he simply shifted out of the way of the next heavy blow. Fear coursed through him. Then rage. Force Rage to be specific. He knew was taking a gamble, calling on it again so soon. He had to finish this quickly, or when it wore off he'd be weaker than ever. He called on every slight, every nightmarish feud he had ever had to give him the strength to meet the next overhead blow. He slashed and stabbed relentlessly, chaotically, no pattern to his strikes, no desire except a monolithically insane desire to see the Barabel Chieftain to die. The flurry of attacks at all target zones forced the chieftain to parry and block himself, though the savage fluidity of one blow leading to a stab or the fast, vicious chips meant solely to kill forced the chieftain to call on his own experience, shunting aside, dodging, or parrying the increasingly bloodthirsty and incredibly strong blows, and exploiting his own styles mobility to keep Karter away from him, until he scored a light grazing blow to the chieftain' s left arm. The lizard man snarled in agony, but his defense interestingly did not drop. He instead parried the next strike, forcing Karter's saber into the concrete and head butted him savagely, breaking his nose. The Force Rage cut off the pain but his vision went blurry as his saber went flying away, and the chieftain roared, bringing his blade down, forcing a half conscious Karter to roll out of the way of the deadly, heavy edge, the Force Rage cutting off and leaving Karter weakened and with the pain of a broken nose fast threatening to knock him out. The Chieftain raised the sword to strike again, and Karter barely managed a weak force push that only sort of moved his sword out of the way, causing it to be impaled in the ground. The Chieftain's hands were around Karter's throat. Karter's hands were around the chieftains, half blind from his own blood. "Kal!" Karter screamed.
  9. Intent: To create a very manuverable, formidable personal starship. Manufacturer: CEC. Affiliation: Republic Production Rate: Mass Produced. Starship Type: Personal Starship. Armaments: Four Heavy Laser Cannons built into the arrow-like nose of the ship. Integrated missile pod systems. The missiles are the same as those often sold on the XS, except this ship has far more, with missile pods aimed in front and back. Modifications: The starship can be modified to have faster engines, and its targeting systems are military grade, and nearly impossible to Jam. Its Sensors are also protected against jamming. Its Shields can sustain two hits from standard laser cannons mounted on most frieghters, but its armor can take only one. It has an escape pod, and the captains quarters has a built security turret in the ceiling. No other modifications can be added. Starship Appearance: The Shadow Moth bears a slight aesthetic resemblance to to the J-type Nubian yacht in phantom menace in terms of overall profile, down to the way the engines are mounted on the back, but its armor and the cockpit section have the faceted appearance and triangular profile of the real life F-117 Nighthawk Length: 130 meters Height: 30 meters Weight: 75 metric tons unloaded, eighty five loaded. Armament Rating: High. Maneuverability Rating: High Speed Rating: Low Defense Rating: Low Strengths: Heavy Firepower: As The Shadow Moth is not the vessel of a smuggler looking to transport heavy or illegal cargo, the Ship need not concern itself with a large cargo bay, freeing up room for an extra generator to be dedicated solely to the main weapons which fire in alternating sequences, while the integrated missile launchers launch dozens of missiles with average guidance capability at a time thanks to extra ammo pods. Highly Manuverable: The Shadow Moth boasts one of the highest manuverability ratings for a starship of its size. Only starfighters are more manuverable. The controls and response time are rated top of their line, due to the increased emphasis on control while navigating hazards. High grade electronics: The sensors and targeting systems were adapted from interceptors, plus, programmed with extremely effective eccm defenses, making them extremely difficult to jam. Weaknesses: Weak defenses: Banking on its increased firepower and manuverability, designers sacrificed shield strength in the hopes its heavy weapons and astonishing nimbleness can down the opponent before they can be downed Weak Speed: The engines were calibrated to the ships manuverability, to assist rather than fail to take advantage of it. While this allows for excellent control through tight spaces, it won't win a straight power race. Limited Upgradeability: Beyond the engines, which can be upgraded to produce slightly more thrust without compromising its nimble nature, the Moth cannot be upgraded any further. Description: CEC developed this heavily armed personal vessel. Adapted from designs submitted to CEC's Escort Vessel Project, the Shadow Moth is a highly manuverable, heavily armed personal starship that is only slightly longer than most personal starships in this category. As it did not need to devote its interior to large cargo spaces, the ship was streamlined for easier control through hazards. Its thrusters are low powered, and the Shadow Moth's weapons and nimble potential must be relied on to survive an encounter. The vessel is being marketed to clients with a lot of money who need to go through a dangerous portion of space with a reasonable certainty of survival. The sensors and tracking are military grade and it represents a considerable upgrade in the post war environment in terms of heavily armed multipurpose civilian starships. While it lacks the upgradeability of other personal starships, it is priced slightly below most others despite having more weapons as nearly everything else in the ship is stripped of non-essentials, allowing it to remain competitive. Its cargo bay comperable in size to the old dynamic class frieghter cargo bay, and its designed only for the bare essentials for traveling in relative comfort, lacking the wide space of a standard light frieghter. The galley, refresher, and spare guest room which can hold about two extra occupants are all located next to one another after the cockpit, with the escape pod section located right outside it, with the guest room just after. This by the numbers simplicity cuts down on building time, allowing the ship to be rolled out faster than other ships on CEC's product line, while not compromising quality of design.
  10. In The Land Of The Barabel!

    Karter, after, resealing the lasceration with another convection application, followed Kal down the tunnel. He managed to summon enough concentration to cloak himself, watching where Kal walked, and imitating his walking pattern through the tunnel, which seemed to go on forever. "Not like you, letting the weaker one scout ahead while you cower behind him like a worm," the hallucination of Sangraal muttered to his left. "Shut up," he said under his breath. "And let me concentrate." Everything hurt. But he was spurned on by success. And challenge. After all, if he could not survive a full on assault from people who, as far as he could tell, were vicious, strong, and resourceful, he would never have a chance at bringing the fight to the Order. And the only way to do that, was to weaken their Republic first. Painstaking, laborious work, which might kill him regardless of how far along in progress he got. He tried not to think too hard about how he was to succeed where the Sith themselves had failed. What, WHAT would work?! What could he do that they hadn't thought of?! There had to be something they had not thought of. Something no one would think of. What flaw had the Sith missed? What string could he pull? He grew angry as he asked himself these uncomfortable questions, for they illustrated how seemingly insurmountable his obstacles were. How hopeless it was. But he hated the Order too much to quit. Too much to drop dead here, at least. As he watched Kal scout what looked like a massive underground hanger at the end of the tunnel, he spotted the chieftain, a Barabel at least two feet above him in height, wielding a massive vibrosword. He was flanked by the last of his guards. He even had a courier vessel. Guy must have been loaded, because he got the feeling not a lot of Barabel made it off planet. Kal was trying to be quiet, but one of the guards spotted him and yelled. Karter got low on the ground as they began to open fire on Kal. He got out his lightsaber going into a sprint. The red blade snipped through three pairs of legs grouped together and firing at Kal's direction. But Karter was slow from exhaustion, and a bolt managed to graze his leg, then his arm. The increased pain forced him to cut off his cloak, and he made a diagonal slash through the fourth shooter's torso, cutting through his rifle at the same time, and was forced to dive-scramble behind one of the courier ships landing struts. There was a loud rumble. The guards stopped shooting for a second. Karter poked his head out, wondering what the rumbling was. Something punched through the roof of the dark tunnel he and Kal had come from he heard a familiar roar as the tunnel began to collapse as the Durgolosk landed on top of the rubble. The guards yelled, the chieftain yelled. Karter almost squeeled in fear, but just barely managed not to. The Durgolosk spotted Kal, and charged, intent on devouring Vonnar first then the others. "Kal, RUN!" Karter yelled. "RUN!"
  11. In The Land Of The Barabel!

    The Barabel fell back at Karter's rampage through wide open pavilions containing civilian living quarters. The guards gave the technicians and others time to run, even as Karter hacked through yet two more at the same time, both too slow at their parries. He kept moving, never staying in one place to avoid the gunfire his red blade finding flesh, weapon, and often, both at once. He proceeded forward unceasing, wide, horizontal swings aimed at crowds of guards that stood before him. They were all starting to panic now, seeing the trail of butchered Barabel in his wake. The wide traveling Sun Djem was delivered with as much speed and power as he could manage to the panicking Barabel in front of him, slashing through the hilts and fingers and throats of the Barabel that had foolishly stood their ground, bullets whizzing past his ear as he leapt forward with the force, performing a Sai-Cha on the remaining guard. As the Barabel's head fell to the ground, followed by his body, Karter at last spotted the relief. He took a step forward when he felt something wet. He looked down. The leg wound had reopened. And he had left a long, slick trail since entering this section. He suppose he should consider himself fortunate it hadn't opened earlier. He dropped to his knee, woozy. Had to stop the bleeding. Plan B. He put his hand on the wound, and braced himself. The searing, burning agony of fire hit the bullet wound, focused and constant. The bleeding wound hissed, turned black, but fused closed as he pinched it. He collapsed to the ground, lightsaber shutting off. Leg felt bad. He probably shouldn't put too much weight on it. He wasn't careful, he'd end up like Arkanus. He pulled out his tral-tech pistol, approaching the large relief. A crowd of Barabel in ancient garb carrying spears surveying a valley was displayed on a large wall. He staggered over, looking for a switch. He felt the edges of the relief, and found a button. He hit it and the relief split in two, parting to reveal the tunnel. He fell to his knees from the pain. He then noticed Vonnar was next to him. "Scout ahead. I...I need to catch my breath a moment, then I'll follow you," Karter said, finally tearing a now useless radiation suit off of himself. His hair was matted to his scalp and he was bleeding from his head and face, his clothes torn and burnt. "We can't let the chieftain reach the other side. He gets to wherever he's headed we fail this and we are out one arms deal. C'mon, you take point. We'll figure out how to off the chieftain when we reach him," Karter said, gesturing for Kal to go ahead. "Keep quiet. Watch for booby traps."
  12. In The Land Of The Barabel!

    Just as Karter moved to another place, the Barabel started focusing on another commotion. Before he could react, he saw a squad move in where he knew Kal still was. Dammit. Vonnar had been too slow. Now he was going to have to kill them before they got Kal. Then he'd be out one pilot. But a barrage of gun fire broke his concentration and he was forced to return fire to keep from getting overwhelmed. The machine gun in his arms rattled off bullets in the direction of three Barabel who ducked behind a clay forge and blind fired over it, forcing him to duck. He pulled the trigger again. It clicked. Empty. He hid behind a support pillar as bullets began blasting chunks off of it. His lightsaber came out again, and his rage flared. He gripped a metal work table with telekinesis, violently sending it into a forge at high speed, spilling fire and hot coals onto the Barabel hiding behind it. Oddly, part of him was still intrigued by the fact this species didn't like apologies. So if he did all the terrible things to these people that he was currently doing, would they expect redress in any form at all? Justice must work in interesting, terrifying ways here. The people were strong and vicious and their environment more so. They could be a great and powerful society, no doubt. And yet, so much to contend with. He was liking this planet more and more. It was a place that would either make you strong or kill you. Four Barabel approached to his left, these ones firing blaster rifles. He yanked the metal table he had just thrown up with his mind and flung it towards them, slamming into them all at once. He noticed however that the Barabel that had gone to intercept Kal had not come back. He knew Kal was a decent shot but he was uncertain how Kal would fair first time against people who genuinely wanted him dead. But he had bigger problems. More reinforcements were coming. He seized control of the fires from the destroyed forge and increased them throwing all his hate and fury into his attempt to help power through the strain, The Fire started to grow in seconds, raging and spreading in a hissing swath that caught a few Barabel in the far end of the forge complex on fire, and starting to burn out of control in other areas. He released his control over the fire, just as a grenade landed at his feet. He sprinted, barely getting behind the mangled work table and its crushed victims before the blast. Blaster bolts and bullets began whizzing over his head and hitting the table, starting to punch through it. He didn't try and rise up. He was pinned. He instead lifted the mangled table again with telekinesis and hurled it into the direction of the firing. The gunfire went silent and he heard them yelling and snarling and hissing in their language. He rose as a two large Barabel Warriors charged into the fray armed with vibro-staves. He barely managed to get his saber active before they they executed a coordinated assault, one stabbing at his face and the other slicing at his mid-section. Too full of adrenaline and fury to register how tired he was starting to get, he let loose, slipping into a Force rage and brutally bashing aside both their assaults with a simple but fast retreat and parry, retaliating with a flurry of strikes targeting their arms, legs and torso in vicious, nearly uncontrolled wide swings powered by hatred. They coordinated their defense, slapping aside his vicious slashes and stabs with spinning parries from their weapons, retreating also before sprinting forward, one going low, the other going high with their slices. He retreated, blocking with the full strength of his arms the low slice and furiously driving it upward into to the direction of the high slice, knocking it upward before turning it into a brutal downward hewing stroke that forced them both back and he charged, slashing at everything that looked exposed in both their defenses, vertical and diagonal and horizontal slashes coming in unpredictable sequences that forced the two warriors to constantly retreat and parry, Karter screaming at them as he attacked, hungering only for the splash of their blood against his face, striking with pure abandon in Form one, his slashes starting to look strangely graceful in the fury, transitioning from one vicious, fast, but blocky attack pattern to more swifter, precise and wide slashes. His arms moved with savage unison, burning with adrenaline and hatred as he struck at their weapon arms, cutting off their attempts to strike back when they were too busy trying to stop their sword-staves from getting cut in half. They retreated at every slash, until he made a vertical power slash at one Barabel's head...and the other blocked the attack, allowing the other to duck low and slice at his legs, forcing him to back flip out of the way to keep from getting cut in pieces. Sword blows rained down on his left and right from the snarling Barabel and out of the corner of his eye, he saw more warriors armed with vibrostaves sprint into the massive forge chamber, which had caught fire in many parts by this point. He heard Kal shout at them to leave him alone from behind...and his eyes widened as they were all flung back hard by something invisible. Some looked injured. Others were rising up, confused. He didn't here what Kal said next, because he was too busy cutting down the defenseless warriors, wide vicious slashes cutting through multiple targets and their limbs. When they were all dead, he forced his Fury to die out, collapsing to one knee as he stared at Kal. "Well...I guess thats another reason not to fire you," Karter grunted. "We can't leave until the chieftain is dead. I think this is his personal guard...he uh...uh...probably can't flee over land. It'll be sunrise in two hours. He's gonna try and flee by tunnel, if he hasn't already. Those guys probably came to try and buy him time, meaning he was close by, and meaning we might still catch him," the Dark Jedi grunted. "Pull yourself together. Force yourself to stand up. Take the pain. Accept it, for if you do not fight you will not leave this place alive," Karter told him, pulling out his sonic blaster and yanking up a still living Barabel. "The Chieftain. Where?" The Barabel hissed something in Karter's ear which made him snarl in rage and stab the Barabel in the throat with his lightsaber. "Damn, they're loyal," he snapped, going over to Kal and pulling him to his feet. "Here," Karter said, handing him his sonic blaster. "Time for an on the job lesson: Dual wield these blasters, draw their fire, and I'll cut them down. Don't try and use the Force again. You'll just knock yourself out," he ordered, weary looking. "We can still win this." Karter sprinted through the fire and his lightsaber began slashing and slicing through the Barabel coming at him with weapons in what looked to be a storage area for the weapons made in the Forge. He employed the same hate and fury in his attacks but it wasn't force-enhanced, just his emotions guiding him through the working of Form One. Uno had not been able to teach him the highest level of the form, saying it had to be gained through experience and instinct, but she had told him it would require harnessing his emotions like he did with Juyo to execute it at its highest level. And it was something he would simply have to reach on his own. As wide sarlacc sweeps and slashes hit weapons and limbs and necks with tight red arcs of light, Karter was starting to think he was just about there. He began to revel in the butchery of the Barabel, drunk on the carnage, slashing and slashing through scaly lizard flesh, saber biting through everything carelessly as he attacked the warriors trying to block his way. Three fell. Then eight fell to frenzied, unpredictable slashes that seemed to come from above and below, the grace of the flowing moves intermingled with the savagery of the assault. There was no pattern to the slashes and stabs as he hacked through the arms storage, sparks and fires scatrering behind him, along with charred limbs. As he hacked through two more a remaining warrior fell to his knees. "Wait, Human. Sssssspaaare meee and I will tell youuuuu where the chieftain hasssss fled." "Five seconds." "He hasssss fled down a hidden tunnel in the sssssouth, flanked by all hisssss remaining guardssss. They are falling back, trying to get to the sssssafehoussssse deep underground. The door to it issss magnetically ssssealed, protected by a dozen turretsssss. He isssss likely a quarter of the way," the large alien answered. Karter stared. "The tunnel entrance?" "A large relief in stone of his tribe settling a valley from long ago." Karter beheaded him. He normally wouldn't have but he couldn't leave witnesses. Besides, he had never promised to spare him. Not explicitly. He waited for Kal to catch up to before proceeding forward. That kid was getting a crash course in violence. Such was the life of a criminal.
  13. Force Power and Skill Suggestions

    This one is also from Kotor 2. I was thinking we could do it as the opposite of the Force Revitalize on this site. I have tried to keep to the description of the power Force Potency: A technique often favored by Dark Siders, by learning to draw more greedily upon the Force with hate and rage, they actually learn to increase the effect of their offensive related powers, making slightly harder for an enemy adept to resist the attack. It takes a moment of concentration but at the cost of draining their force reserves much faster, their powers are more potent. Requirements: Corruption 2
  14. Force Power and Skill Suggestions

    Here's two. This first one is a rebellion-era power as listed on Wookieepedia, but given its nature, I really don't see why something like it couldn't exist earlier, so I wanted to propose this power be added. Inflict Pain: Used to inflict the nerves with a moment of debilitating agony, Inflict Pain is different from Crucitorn, which merely increases the pain of an injury already inflicted. Inflict Pain is solely a Dark Side Power. As the nature of the Dark Side causes pain in everything around it and what it inhabits, many novice Dark Siders learn this by instinct. While requiring great concentration, Inflict Pain can be so incompacitating the first time it is experienced that it often drives healthy targets to their knees momentarily, and weaker enemies may be simply knocked unconscious. As it does not actually injure the victim, it is incapable of killing, but many Dark Siders use the technique as a Torture method, one of many. Requires: Corruption 1 I see it as something akin to a Dark Side version of Force Stun. If so, maybe it could be a tiered ability, like use it on a group? Also, this one is confusing me, because I have only seen it mentioned in Kotor 2, and I'm not sure whether or not Force armor can do the same thing. If it can't, I propose it be added under a different name. The name here is the one it had in the game but the Wookieepedia page was confusing also. Force Barrier: Absorbs bludgeoning, slashing, and piercing attacks by forming a small telekinetic barrier around the user that cushions and deflects impacts. While no replacement for true Force deflection it is more discrete and many a Force adept has been saved from an unexpected knife thrust or slugthrower by employing this ability.
  15. In The Land Of The Barabel!

    The Barabel moved through the small cavern, weapons trained everywhere. One was looking up the chasm he had fallen through, rain streaking down it. They weren't stupid. He didn't understand their language, but he knew they knew he hadn't gotten past them. He saw how tense they were. They were waiting for him to attack. He was hidden completely, but he realized that they had positioned themselves at specific points around the cavern, each point giving them a good angle of fire. He moved slowly among them, focused on maintaining his advantage. He took out the sonic blaster, moving into position. He held it in front of him, clipping his saber to his belt by feeling it out. He opened fire pointing from a position like he had done against the Mandalorian, a point shooting technique he had gotten better with since. The sonic bolts were set to stun. He was trying to be clean about this, as he really hadn't come to kill any but this chieftain. That said, he wouldn't lose sleep if one more than necessary bought it. The sonic bolt hit one in the face and he sprinted out of the trajectory of return fire, snapping off a shot at another face, ducking under a burst of fire from behind him. He fired. He missed. The Barabel returned fire and Karter yelled as one of the bullets grazed his leg, he decloaked, barely rolled out of the way from the second burst, firing back and forcing the remaining two to dodge the bolts, though Karter managed to hit one in the head, even as bullets whizzed over him. But one was still left, and he barely managed to go into a Force cloak and roll before the bullets would have taken his head off. He prepared to draw another bead just as the Barabel whipped his machine gun into position. But that was when the shot hit from behind. The Barabel dropped. Karter stared. "Vonnar? How in the hell did you find me?" Karter grunted. Vonnar must have gotten in when the Barabel and he had faced off and neither of them had noticed in the chaos. When Vonnar asked if he was alright, Karter struggled up, grunting. "I'll live," he replied, wincing as he stood on his leg. It was bleeding heavily. He grunted in pain, hand clenching into a fist. He had been trying to push himself, struggling to push his command of the Dark Side to the next step, trying to replicate what he had witnessed his would-be mentor on Tattooine achieve in their first duel. He was full of fury and rage at how his day had gone, and the wound wasn't doing him any favors. He gripped the Dark Side tightly and forced it to flood the bullet wound with all of his might, pushing as much as his hate for his true enemy would allow. There was nothing for a few seconds. Then the wound begin to hiss and burn. He clenched his jaw, the pain immense. The wound continued to hiss and smoke, bolstered by fury, until it finally begin to fuse shut, burning and hissing. He continued to strain, dropping to one knee until finally the wound had burned and fused shut. Draining one of the guards would have restored the wound but the warning about its addictive effects had made him very cautious as to its employment. He rose, still holding the sonic blaster. He was unsure what approach to take. Should he try for a more defensive approach or go full assault? He ruled out defensive. Machine guns would ignore the lightsaber. Offense then. He looked at one of the fallen's machine guns. He picked it up. It was a light model, meant for mobile use. The barrel was of average length, with what looked to be an open bolt, drum-fed design set in polymer black furniture with a ringed sight system. He grasped it, noting it was made for larger hands but he could adjust. The caliber looked to be 5.56x45. "Mr. Vonnar," he grunted. "I think we might have to disappoint Fuduxa a little." He turned to the tunnel leading deeper into the facility. "Probably shoring up defence," he muttered. "The chieftain is somewhere at the top of this tower which apparently has a rather large auxiliary facility underneath. One Fuduxa neglected to mention," he grumbled, irritated. "We need to play this smart. Obviously, we are out numbered. So here is what we are gonna do. They are gonna try and get him out of here soon. We need to get through whatever is beyond us quickly now. That means offence. We spare some we spare some. But, don't go crying over split Barabel," he joked, marching forward. He heard shuffling and opened fire on two red and green armored Barabel Warriors. They dropped as the armor piercing rounds penetrated their tough hide. Another burst of fire from his gun tore through the head of another armored warrior as he cleared out into what looked like a wide open workshop for black smithing. Forges and smithing equipment hung from great racks and great assembly tables for hand made armor lay in the middle, circular and silvery. Smoke was channeled out through special vents in the rock itself. The workers were gone. Green and red armored guards, hiding behind hastily set up metal barricades opened fire as soon as he came out. He ducked, diving behind a droid work bench and heard the metal bullets whiz over him, some impacting against thick cover which only protected him so much. Going through too much sensory imput to process the burning pain his leg was still in, Karter shut it out, focusing all his will on the Dark Side. He disappeared, the light and Force bending around him until he had disappeared. He shot up, running towards a different cover, a clay forge. Not good. Sixteen men. All armed with assault rifles and machine guns. Good cover too. He let his gun point at the ground while he decloaked and peeked from cover. He was close to the barricade, but they had broken up, searching the room for him. He snapped to a hip fire position and sprayed the area in front of him. Three went down. He cloaked and sprinted and ducked away from returning fire, getting behind a knocked over metal table. The roar of gunfire was so loud his ears rang. He saw one trying to flank him and he burst fired, hitting the Barabel in the chest. Where the hell was Kal?
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