Prologue/Opening Text Crawl:
After the JEDI EXILE defeated the cunning
and manipulative DARTH TRAYA on Malachor V,
she took flight in her vessel, the Ebon Hawk.
She sought REVAN, the original Dark Lord,
and hoped to uncover the true Sith threat
which lay in wait for the fledgling Republic.
Little did the Exile know that in the course
of two years, she would serve two new masters--
one Jedi, one Sith. Only one would win her
loyalty and claim her as the key to a war
that would make the Mandalorian conflicts
pale by comparison...
"Ah, Revan," sighed Tysyacha Dvukhsotnaya, the
one known as the Jedi Exile, as she slumped in the
cockpit of the Ebon Hawk. "Where are you, and what
are you planning? Have the Sith caught you again, or
are you still on the side of the Light?" Nothing answered
but the hum of the Ebon Hawk's hyperdrive, whirring
contentedly as thousands of stars sped past the vessel.
No one else was aboard. Tysyacha knew that Kreia, at
least before she revealed her true identity as the former
(and now deceased) Darth Traya, had been right. She
could not take anyone she cared for along with her on
the journey that lay ahead. This path was for her alone,
or at least until she happened upon some new companions.
An abrupt sound made Tysyacha whirl around in her seat.
"Who's there?" she asked, her nerves taut. Silence once
again ensued, and Syscha thought she must be getting
paranoid. But, then, after all, was she to blame? Darth
Traya had taught her that sometimes, nothing and no one
deserved your trust, not even the ones you called allies.
Still, she had cause to hope, for the sound revealed itself...
A young human girl fell into Tysyacha's sight, tumbling rather disgracefully into the cockpit. A look of pure terror was in her eyes as she stood and attempted to retreat.
"I'm sorry," she said quickly. "It's... it's jus that your spaceship... well, it's... that is, you were the only one I saw getting on..."
She continued to back away. "I... I jus needed to get away from... from him... that's all."
She stared at Tysyacha, as if hoping to be accepted and brushed her dark red hair out of her face to reveal terrified dark blue eyes.
Tysyacha blinked, startled into semi-paralysis at first,
but then she found her voice. "Him?" she asked, not
unkindly. "Who is this 'him' you're talking about? Revan?"
She thought it unlikely that this girl, whoever she was,
had found the Dark Lord already and escaped his clutches.
Seeing the girl was still frightened, she relaxed her
shoulders and stretched out her hand. "By Dxun!
Where are my manners? I am Tysyacha Dvukhsotnaya,
but you can call me Syscha for short. This is my ship,
a smuggler's vessel called the Ebon Hawk. It used to
be Darth Revan's property, but, well--through unforeseen
and strange circumstances, it became mine. Welcome aboard."
Tysyacha and the girl shook hands, and the young Jedi
was reminded of another traveler, a red-headed spitfire
who had once looked to collect the bounty upon her...
"Mira," she thought. "How much this girl looks like her,
although she has a lot less attitude! I think I can trust
her, at least for now. She looks scared, and I'll direct
her to one of the dormitories so she can rest, maybe."
Note: Tysyacha's name is phonetically pronounced
TEE-si-chah dvookh-SOT-na-yah, the "kh" on the "dvukh"
like the "ch" in "Loch Ness", but a little bit softer. ;)
"I... the girl stammered. "I don't know his name..."
She seemed to be calming down slightly since Tysyacha didn't seem to mind her presence. "Syscha... that's a pretty name. I'm Falya."
Tysyacha smiled back. "Hello, Falya. I bet you're
wondering about me, or at least where I'm going.
I'm in search of my former Master, name of Revan,
although I'm not sure if he turned back to the
Dark Side or not. He was commander of all the Sith
during the Mandalorian Wars, and no one knows
where he is these days. I want to track him down
and do one of two things: either confront him
if he's with the Sith, or join forces if he's with
the Light. There's a growing galactical threat."
Syscha sat down again and asked Falya about
the man she had wanted to escape from. "What
did he look like?" she asked. "Hooded, maybe?
Red single-handed lightsaber? Long cloak?"
She prayed, Don't let it be Revan. Not yet.
Don't let the Dark Lord be near when I've barely
escaped Malachor V!
Falya thought for a moment. "I've heard of Revan, but this man doesn't fit any of the descriptions you just gave... but I don't wanna talk about him." She shuddered convulsively. She looked around and sat down with her back against the nearest wall.
"So you said this ship used to be Revan's?" she asked curiously.
"Aye," replied Tysyacha. "Although, I don't know much
about that portion of the Ebon Hawk's past. The
part I know is the time ever since I woke up near the
fuel station of Peragus..." Syscha told Falya a brief
summary of her encounters and travels aboard this
illustrious Sith-targeted vessel, including her most
recent lightsaber duel, the one with Darth Traya.
"It's been a long, hard journey for me, one fraught
with constant danger and deception. However, the
Force has been with me, and it has kept my heart beating
throughout." For the third time, a quiet calm followed.
"Wow!" Falya exclaimed when the story was complete. "You have been through a lot."
She stared out the window into space. "My story is not so long, nor so interesting." There was a short pause before she went on. "I was born in space. Never had a home. My parents were wanderers. They hated the Republic, but they also hated the Sith. The first time I ever stood on the solid ground of a planet was when I was ten."
She stood and began pacing. "When I was twelve, our ship was attacked by pirates and my parents were killed. I was sold into captivity. Three years later, I escaped, but I was captured again two months later. I've just escaped again. I am eighteen years old now."
She stopped pacing and sat down again. "So, where are we headed?"
Tysyacha gazed sympathetically at the Ebon Hawk's newest passenger.
"You say I've been through a lot," she said, "but you're no stranger to suffering
either! I'm sad to hear about your parents and the time you spent enslaved.
Were you put to work by the Czerka corporation, by any chance? I've had
many a scuffle and skirmish with their mercenaries, especially aboard Telos."
Syscha sipped a drink from the concession dispenser. "Ionic water?" she asked
Falya, who accepted gladly. "For now, I want to head for Nar Shadaa. No one
would look for us there right now, since I think the bounty on Jedi is off. Plus,
it's where Revan would go if he were looking to engage in shady business."
She charted a course for the Smuggler's Moon, and the ship catapulted away...
((If I may, I'm new at this but I'll try. Feel free to send a message if its not exactly going as planned or w/e.))
A shady man walked the streets of Naar-Shadaa, black cloak hanging about his heels and hood drawn up over his face. He stepped stealthily, keeping to the shadows. He slipped around a corner and through a door.
The room he entered was dimly lit, faintly glowing red lights giving the room a bloody hue. It was filled with people, as it should be. It was a cantina after all.
Twi'leks, Gammorreans, Duros, as well as many other variations of aliens hovered about the room, drinking and talking in hundreds of different foreign tounges.
Scanning the room, the man saw a male Twi'lek with green skin, dressed in red garments standing in a corner, leaning against the wall and watching the crowd passivly. He stepped towards the alien.
Forsakening Basic, the man spoke to the Twi'lek, using his contact's native language.
"Do you have it?" he asked in a deep voice.
"Right here. However, I need to see the credits."
"How bout you let me inspect the package, make sure it is the real thing, and then pay you. Or, I could just blast you," at his words, the man drew a slim, hold-out blaster from beneath the folds of his cloak, handling it meaningfully, "and take the package from you."
Faced with the blaster, the Twi'lek's eyes grew wide. "I-I like you're idea, much better."
"Good, I'm glad you see it my way. Now then," the cloaked figure said, holding his hand out expectantly.
The alien put a hand up his sleeve, and drew out a disk. "You will find all that I promised on here." and handed it to the man.
With a practiced eye, he checked to make sure that this was indeed what he had come for, then slapped some credits down on the table, and left.
As he inserted the disk into a pocket, a ship roared overhead. The man looked up, watching as it soared by with increasing interest.
I know that ship. he thought, and slipped around another corner, and into the night.
Many who feel the Force believe that true coincidences are rare.
Was it really a coincidence, then, that Tysyacha and Falya reached
a certain landing pad on Nar Shaddaa? A certain familiar landing
pad? When the two figures exited, a good-naturedly quarrelsome
Toydarian named Quello flitted out of his living quarters and accosted them.
"Whatsa you two doing on my landing pad?" asked Quello. "The right
to land here belongs to some other men, some space pilots who went
off for a long bender in the Jekk'Jekk Tarr bar." Suddenly, he noticed
one of the two women seemed familiar. "Eh, it's you! Haven't seen you
in a long time, Jedi, or are you a Jedi still?" Quello scratched his head.
Tysyacha smiled wryly. "Exiled." She gently placed her hand on the
hilt of her double-bladed silver lightsaber. "I'm not formally reinstated,
although with the deaths of Masters Zez Kai'Ell, Kavar, and Vrook, I doubt
that I ever will be." Quello flapped a few feet back, his expression shocked.
"Oh! I forgot to introduce you. Please forgive me, Falya. This is Quello,
a fine Toydarian who would surely take two hundred more credits for the
right to land here." She winked at the wrinkled, gray creature and smiled.
"Two hundred? Ehh, better make it a thousand. Since you left here, Jedi,
Nar Shaddaa prices have tripled. Some Sith here is with the Exchange, or
at least that's what the rumors say. Me, I don't believe it. I think Goto has
finally swelled too big for his sphere, if you know what I mean. Heh, heh!"
Falya looked rather worried, and a lump formed in Tysyacha's throat.
One thousand credits? Such a sum was not Bantha fodder. Nevertheless,
Syscha surrendered the credits to Quello's outstretched hand, telling her
companion she had much more. Which was the truth, but knowing the
Smuggler's Moon, it all could be gone in a fortnight. Good thing Syscha
had admitted to herself long ago that she was a terrible pazaak player!
"Please, keep our ship safe. Wait--did you say there were Sith here?"
Tysyacha couldn't believe she had almost missed that tibit of information.
"Only rumors. You know what they say. Oh--Dark Lord Revan?" Quello
shook his head. "It's probably not him. I'm 95 percent sure. Make that 99."
As Syscha and Falya left the landing pad, the Exile thought, Maybe so,
but it never hurts to check...
"Doesn't every system have a rumor of Revan's recent appearance?" Falya asked quietly, staying very close to Syscha's side and glancing around nervously. "I mean... it seems recently that he's everywhere, if you know what I mean."
"Hey, girl!" a gruff voice called. A look of pure terror crossed Falya's face and she broke into a run. The man began an immediate pursuit. Falya continued to run, but ended up cornered not far away. The man laughed.
"You know who I am," he said. It was not a question. He knew very well that she knew who he was.
"You're Vulk," she whispered. He nodded.
"And what do I do?" he asked, coming closer. She cringed.
"You hunt me when I run," she muttered. Again, he nodded. Falya prayed that Syscha would catch up soon as Vulk continued.
"Grayston is getting tired of all your running," he said, taking a long whip from his belt. "He's given me permission to do a little more than bind you this time."
He took a step back so he could achieve the full striking force of the whip. Falya cringed, waiting for the blow...
(* I hope its ok for me to post like this, and I apologise if not, I've not RP'd like this before, not in a narrative way like this. Please have patience, and I hope the following is to everyones liking. If not please send me a message, and I'll amend/remove as necessary. Thankyou. *)
As the whip descends, a hands grabs the lashing end from the air. It wraps around an outstretched fist that pulls mightily against it, the man loses his balance at the unexpected force exerted on the whip, causing him to stumble.
Seeing the man off balance, a leg whips from the folds of a large blue over coat, and swiftly takes the man across the back of the legs, causing him to fall, releasing his hold on the handle of the whip as he falls. As he starts to rise again the hand clasping the whip crashes into the side of his head. A mighty blow, and well struck, the man, now barely conscious, collapses in a heap at the figures feet.
The figure straightens up, looks down at the the whip man.
"This girl shall not suffer harm at your hands, or at anyone elses. Return to your master, and inform him so. From this moment on the girl is under my protection, and shall not be harmed, future attempts will be taken most seriously indeed, and I asure you, that should you be the one that attempts it, it shall be the last time we meet. Now. Leave. Return to your master and tell him you have failed him." A well toned masculine voice says calmly, forcful and persuasive intonation clearly audible to those paying attention.
"Now, young lady, I suggest you, and your companion had best follow me, and we shall leave this scene before further trouble descends upon us. Please, if you'll follow me, I'll show you to a place of safety, a place we can talk, about the current situation, and hopefully, a way to resolve it."
The figure then turns, gestures slightly and begins to walk into the traffic of Nar Shadaa's population.
(Well, I'm bored... it's kinda late, can't sleep... might as well join into a nice little RP, eh?)
Lussk yawned as he listened absentmindedly to the slug's orders. Ever since Goto's... disappearance, and with the arrival of those new bosses, he was unable to get any decent huntin' jobs. He regretted oh so much taking this sithspit of a job for Vogga. Oh well, at least it's easy and the pay is decent... the ex-bounty hunter thought to himself. "So, eh-uh, Vogga, why's this freighter worth examining?"
The Hutt merely grunted, "You ask too much, all you need to do is tell that damned Toydarian what to do. Here, you fool, take this datapad and just hand it over to him. Since you obviously have too much on your mind to remember all this." Vogga spit at the Trandoshan's feet, and Lussk quickly reverted to his old instincts and hissed out curses in the languages of old. Apparently, Kath hounds didn't like to hear Trandoshans speak, as one of Vogga's beasts snapped at Lussk's ankles. With a zap, a whine, and a whimpering Kath hound retreating back into the shadows, Lussk quickly hid his blaster from view. It was the only weapon he managed to obtain after getting his equipment stolen...
Shortly thereafter, the Trando arrived to face Quello at the Docking sector.
"Hey, Quello! Got some orders from the fat fool for you!"
At once the Toydarian flew out of his little shack and snatched the datapad from Lussk. "Eh? Why's Vogga wanna me to examine that wreck?"
Sighing, Lussk quickly took hold of the fat little creature by his neck and scowled, "That's what I'd like to know. Who's the pilot, and why is he or she or whatever so important?"
"I'm sorry, I can-hurk-not tell yo-" He gasped for air as he was released. "But I can show you the ship, might bring old memories, you know?"
Just as Lussk grabbed a small glance of the freighter, he gasped. "The Ebon Hawk? The Jedi that Goto had that bounty on? That schutta?!" He winced as the thought of her opened up a few old wounds, and he quickly scratched at his prosthetic left arm, hoping to gain some relief. "WHERE IS SHE?! Tell me now..." He snarled.
"I don't know! I swe-" the Toydarian jerked about as Lussk nearly crushed his windpipe.
"Bah!" The ex-bounty hunter threw him down. The eyes of the Jekk'Jekk Tarr would know... wait...no, she's human isn't she? The fumes of the Tarr are poisonous... yes... and most of those in the Tarr stay in the Tarr... the eyes of the Cantina are much better. I'll also need some weapons... and for that I'll need credits, unless of course, I obtained them for "free"."Tell Vogga that I'm resigning."
Stretching out his legs, he ran swiftly into the Flophouse, suffocated some fool and grabbed a stealth generator off the man's shelf, a swig of Juma Juice from the fridge, and awaited outside of Vogga's little palace for the dancing to end.
(OOC: If I may request, unless you're heading to the Cantina, don't interact with Lussk, and yes, he does succeed in raiding Vogga's little treasury. And no, I'm not planning on having him hunt Tysyacha (sp? sorry, name really is kinda annoying :P a more simpler one would've been nice... not that I'm complaining.) at least not forever. And also, I would assume that Tysyacha(sp?) was a light sided Exile, correct?)
Hidden in the shadows of the dock, the man watched as the woman and child that departed the frieghter dealt with Quello and walk away.
Using every bit of stealth to stay unnoticed to all, he followed them as they left the dock to the shelter of the Refugee District. Crouching in a corner, he watched a man advance on the child, a whip held high. Reluctant to allow them to get hurt, for they did indeed serve a very important purpose, he was about to spring on the apparent slaver when a man garbed in blue grabbed the whip and quickly dispatched him.
"This girl shall not suffer harm at your hands, or at anyone elses. Return to your master, and inform him so. From this moment on the girl is under my protection, and shall not be harmed, future attempts will be taken most seriously indeed, and I asure you, that should you be the one that attempts it, it shall be the last time we meet. Now. Leave. Return to your master and tell him you have failed him." the man said to the crippled whipper on the ground, then turned to the captain and child, "Now, young lady, I suggest you, and your companion had best follow me, and we shall leave this scene before further trouble descends upon us. Please, if you'll follow me, I'll show you to a place of safety, a place we can talk, about the current situation, and hopefully, a way to resolve it."
The man in the shadows snarled. Not that schutta again!!!!! D*mn him! Why must that... the man used the most insulting prophanity that he knew, continue to distrubt my buisness?!
Taking deep breaths and quickly mastering his anger, the man was about to break cover and follow the threesome when a Trandoshan went up to Quello and spoke to him.
The man listened intently to the exchange, finding that the Trandoshan had been sent to gather information on the ship and its passangers.
This could be a bit of a problem. the man thought, before slipping away after the others.
Using the tracking skills he had gathered over the years, the man continued to follow the ship's passengers and the blue-robed man, fading out of existance in the shadows of the streets...
(OOC: jblue, yes, you are spelling Tysyacha right. I'm sorry the
name for my female, light-sided Exile is so long, and yet in actual
Russian, it's one of the most beautiful words I've ever heard. Cheers,
and welcome to our roleplay! :) You too, Wintersong. If any of you
wish to, just call me Syscha or even Ty. Both are great with me. ;)
And now, the saga continues...)
Tysyacha felt a mixture of anger and fear course through her as she
weaved her way through the "fragrant" crowds of Nar Shaddaa. Falya!
How in the galaxy could I have been so foolish, going to this putrid
planet when I should have known there would have been bounty hunters
here?! My next task is definitely NOT to find Lord Revan, but to rescue
the newest crew member of the Ebon Hawk!
She drew out her lightsaber, keeping it at her side but not activating
the blades yet. Caution was of the utmost here, as was discretion.
Syscha didn't want to cause a panic, especially when one whirling
lightsaber beam caught an innocent Nar Shaddaa dweller in the head!
After a short while, she caught a glimpse of Falya's blazing red hair.
It seemed as if she were in the clutches of a figure in a long blue
overcoat. Well. This wouldn't take very long, with 2 beams at her aid.
"Halt!", she shouted, and then, "Stand back!" to the rest of the
crowd. Gasps and murmurs were heard as Tysyacha whirled her
lightsaber, preparing the silver-white rays for combat. "Sir, that
girl is Falya, the newest crew member on my ship. Release her,
or I shall see to it that this weapon preferred by the Sith gets
its due!" Her cobalt-blue eyes were furious, and she fell into her
traditional Shii-Cho, or Determination, lightsaber form. It had been
the first one that she had learned, and also the most basic.
The crowd watched in stupefaction, some in horror, some in awe.
"It's a Jedi! How on earth could such a one walk here in this place?"
"Hmph. Stupid, arrogant Jedi! The bounty's not active, but my anger is!"
"Is she going to kill us all after she finishes off the cloaked one?"
"Go, lit-up girl! Go, lit-up girl! Yay! Yay!" This from a wide-eyed child.
No one moved, not even Falya's disguised captor. The tension was fierce.
"Oh, not good," Falya muttered, catching sight of Syscha's lightsaber. She knew what that kind of weapon meant to the type of people in the streets of Nar Shaddaa: another potential kill. They had to get out of that area... fast.
Hearing the words of the woman, the figure in blue slowly turns. Hands well calloused move the folds of his large over coat aside gently, for a breef moment the hilt of a single lighsaber is displayed.
The figure gazes intently in to Tysyacha's eyes, a strange look passes across his face, then a gently smile touches his lips.
"Well met Syscha, it has been a long time since I last laid eyes upon you. I'm glad to see that time has not been too unkind to you my friend. Now please, I prey, lower your weapon, your hast has already brought us un-due attention that I wished to avoid, I sense the presense of someone familiar, and it is my fervent hope that it is not who I suspect."
There is a feeling of great determination eminating from the Figure, as he slowly walks forward.
"I see confusion in your eyes Syscha, surely you have not forgotten me. Look closer I beg of you, look with your feelings and see that I am he you once knew. Reach out through your senses and know me again, it is I Tadrick, Tadrick Marlane, we were padawans together, while I studied under master Get Gren D'ai. Remember me, and the time we were together on Dantooine. Remember me." The last words spoken softly, with genuine sincerity evident in his voice.
At these words the crowd press in slightly, many showing further astonishment, others fear, anger, awe, and more than a few appear somewhat confused and a little stupified.
Tadrick moves closer to avoid the press of the crowd.
"Please, I mean no harm to you, or Falya, now, we must leave this place, quickly.
Angry muttering pass through many of the crowd, a number of them start towards the trio as they stand there, violent intent evident through their stance and bearing.
Lussk left the Cantina with little useful information, 100 credits well wasted. He scanned the sector and noticed a crowd that circled around possibly a few people. Squinting, he could see that they were focused on three people, humans, two females and one male. What's this now?
"Why, hello there Lussk, it's been a while..." the Trandoshan spun around to face Vrussk, his cousin. "Thinking about attacking one of those Jedi? That would be quite foolish, I do believe."
"'Those' Jedi? There's more than one? I assumed that there would be that one damned schutta that came by a while back... You remember." Lussk glanced at his arm and recieved a nod. "So... who's the other Jedi?" He spat on the floor.
"I do not know, I merely overheard their words, and I believe that only Jedi use the terms 'padawan' nowadays. But, I have nothing against either of them, and from what I can see, attacking the female would be all too foolish. She's brought out her saber. And yes, I do believe it's the same blade."
Wincing, Lussk pushed his cousin away at crept towards the crowd. He heard some thugs and mercs whispering to each other: "Should we try to take them out?" "Yeah, there's plenty of us, against just a few of them." "They'll go down easy if we catch them on surprise." "I'm sure the Exchange will be glad to see their heads."
Lussk chuckled. "What are you lookin' at, scum?" one of the hunters snarled at the Trandoshan.
"You fools believe that YOU can defeat two Jedi? HAH!"
"We'd have more of a chance than you, you slimy piece of bantha fodder." Lussk lashed out and pierced the Rodian hunter's palm with a knife.
"You'll see that the only fodder here is you fools. And maybe the civvies too." He pushed the mercs away and activated his stealth generator. "Go ahead and try to kill them. In fact, I'll give you a hefty sum to just try," his voice rang out from the air, as several thousand credits dropped to the floor. Courtesy of the Flophouse, he said to himself with a grin.
Lussk then waited in secret, waiting for the Jedi to move. He knew that the mercs would at the very least distract the three, long enough possibly, to get a decent shot at a head. He was the most stealthy Hunter in his time, no one had even thought about someone stalking them. The ex-hunter had mastered stealthed movement, he could lash out and immediately return to his stealthed form immediately. He could run. Looks like this old hunter might just be back in business...
"Syscha, you know this man?" Falya's eyes darted nervously from Syscha to Tadrick and back.
"Halt!" the man said in a hard, commanding voice, stepping from the shadows towards the the man and woman who stood in the center of the crowd.
Not today, you won't. Not today. he thought, as if talking to the blue-robed man.
The man and woman turned towards his voice as he stalked forward, pushing his way through the crowds.
There was a blank look on the woman's face, but the man in blue's face hardened into a semi-snarl. As he opened his mouth to speak, the man cut him off.
"No, this is not the place to speak, Tadrick. You and the...Jedi," he said, casting a glance at the woman but the look was lost beneath the hood of his cloak, "are in great danger at the moment. As a matter of fact..." he was going to say more, but he paused. Holding three fingers up in the air, he said, "Three...two...one." and as the last syllable left his lips, a red bolt shot from behind the crowd, whizzing by the woman's head. The scent of burnt hair filled the air.
Turning back to the pair of Jedi, the man said, "Come with me."
As he turned to walk away, he sensed unrest in the man. Turning back to him, he said, "Stay if you want, Tadrick, but," he pulled his cloak back, discreatly flashing the view of a saberstaff hooked at his belt before letting his cloak's black folds envelope it again, "there will be...certain consequences."
With that, he walked off, leaving the decision to the threesome.
Falya panicked. What kind of people had she fallen in with? Though she hated the idea of being alone on Nar Shaddaa, she felt she had no other choice. When nobody was looking, she slipped into the crowd and broke into a run.
(( This looks linke a pretty cool RPG, I hope noone minds if I join, never RPGed in a literary type of way, but ill give it a try.))
Silence filled the empty grave, that was Malachor V. The Dark Side was still very strong, and could be felt throughout the atmosphere as if it was some sort of invisible shield covering the planet.
Deep within the core of the graveyard world in the heart of the ancient Trayus Academy, a man lay broken and battered on the floor. His flesh greyish from years of Darkside corruption, and cracked scarred and seered as if he had been wounded or killed multiple times, and slowly pieced back together. He appeared dead, but the Dark Side of the Force is as insidous and unpredictable as it is powerful, and such dark power can not be so easily undone. AS the Sith corpse lay face down on the floor, his fingers slowly begin to move, his hand clenches into a fist and grasps tightly at his Lightsaber. He opens his eyes, one is still normal, and brown, while the other is totally white, and has a great scar surrounding it. The man slowly rises to one knee, still unsure of his surroundings, he stands staight up and speaks to himself in a deep grovely sounding tone "Where am I?......I feel as if I should recognize this place, but yet I do not."........He falls to one knee and grasps his side, and it bears the mark of a lightsaber wound, which heals instantly and painfully as he clutches at it....he screams.....he rises and wanders throughout this ancient place, the halls are strewn with bodies, all recently deceased....."What has happened here?......uugh...." he groaned......"This pain...it..it consumes me....How do I ...still.....live." He makes his way into what looked like a dormitory, and to a wall mirror, he stepped in front of it and screamed a scream of terror at what he saw........"It can't be, that isn't even human, its....its....a walking.......rotting......decayed.....CORPSE" He turns quickly from the mirror and runs at full sprint down the halls of the ancient academy, running from the fear that this mirror was telling the truth................
(I would assume that this takes place after TSL, thus, well, Malachor V was destroyed :O)
((Well, the Shadow Generator or whatever its called had apparently been activated before, yet the Academy still stood fully intact, so I guess it would have stayed intact again...))
You obviously didn't see the ending, or at least the Light Side ending. If Exile is dark side, then I believe he/she just stays there and uses the stuff to try to take over the universe. Light Side, you see Malachor V being torn apart, and you also see the core itself (at least the platform) collapse anyway. And since this exile is light-sided, well...
Seeing Falya bolt Tadrick turns to follow, beckoning urgently for Tysyacha to follow. As he begins to run after Flaya he turns slightly to Tysyacha.
"We must find her, before she gets herself hurt... or worse, though what Elron's involvment in this is I do not know." He says quietly.
As Tadrick Marlane runs in pursuit of the fleeing Falya, he turns his back on Elrons "kind" offer of sanctuary
"Your consequences mean little to me Elron, I've stopped you before, and so help me I shall do it again." He yells as he takes off after the fleeing girl.
Ooooh, right, I remember that now. But, I thought Kreia said...whatever. I can't remember. Ok, planet blows up.
(OOC, feel free to join in Sion.
hmm why is the spoiler bit all whited out?)
(you have to highlight it to read it. Hence the reason it's called a spoiler :P)
Elron narrowed his eyes. That b*stard!!! He's only going to get himself and the Exile killed!
As they bolted down a side-street, it seemed apparent that things weren't going to go as planned, considering that several bounty-hunters decided to show themselves. There was a hiss and a hum as a Mandalorian unsheilded only a foot from him.
Looks like its going to be up to me to save the day. Again.
"Well then," the amored man near him said, "there's two Jedi now, are there? That's twice the bounty for me, hahaha!"
Elron turned to him. Summoning the Force and cloaking himself in it, Elron called his saber from his belt, igniting it with a hiss and twin blades of the deepest violent red ignited in his hand.
"Make that three." he said in a deadly hiss, swinging his saberstaff and neatly rending the Mandalorian helmet from its shoulders.
There was a roar from the crowd, and several jeers went out as even more bounty-hunters unsheilded, humming into existance, and pulled out vibroblades and cocking blasters, all waiting expectantly.
"So then, ten of you against little old me." Elron smiled, "You don't stand a chance."
With that, he whirled into motion, spinning his blade above his head to bring it crashing down on a Duros, severing his arm before jumping into the air, only to spin down and slam one of the twin blades into the skull of Twi-lek. As the blaster bolts flew thick and fast, the crowd screamed and ducked for cover.
Pathetic. Elron thought as he quickly whipped his saber down, allowing the Force to block and redirect the red bolts.
Rolling, he rolled beneath the shots, before coming to a halt in a crouch infront of another bounty-hunter and slashing his legs out from underneath him. He then repeated the tactic on another before those with blasters were able to target him again. He rolled backward one last time, and instead of stopping in a crouch, he rolled right into a flip that brought him to his feet in front of an Echani with a vibrosword. Before the bounty-hunter could even raise his weapon, Elron gutted him with a beam of molten fire.
"I tire of this." Elron said calmly. He wasn't sweating. He wasn't even out of breath yet.
Calling on the Force, he slammed the rest of the bounty-hunters up against a wall, knocking them and any one else who was unfortunate enough to get in the way out cold.
"And you call yourselves bounty-hunters." he said, shaking his head. He spat at them before taking of in the direction of the Exile.
(OOC: Sorry, everyone! Tysyacha is BACK in the building after a day's hard work! ;) )
Tysyacha humbly followed Tadrick and the mysterious stranger as they
searched for Falya, her lightsaber now dark and sheathed away. The
young Exile pulled the hood of her Jedi Knight robe over her golden-
brown hair and bowed her head. She felt not only ashamed of her
actions, but guilty as well. In trying to rescue Falya, she had
endangered the poor girl's life and hundreds of others' as well.
What would have happened if a few bounty hunters had the chance
to take shots at us? Syscha thought miserably. Falya and I might
both be dead, and perhaps Tadrick as well. Speaking of which, where is
Falya? I don't blame her for fleeing away into the crowd! No one needs
to be under the protection of an incompetent Force-Sensitive, whether
Jedi or Sith! Hot tears slid down her cheeks as she tried not to wail.
Out loud, she merely wept, "I'm more than sorry. My actions endangered
the one I was trying to protect! Not only that, but I left myself a standing
target. How could I have been so foolish? The trials I've faced have made
me lose my mind! On Malachor V, I flashed my saber at the slightest
provocation, and when Darth Traya still lived, I did the same at her
assassin-filled academy!" Looking at the Exile, with her bloodshot,
red-rimmed eyes, limping walk, and trembling shoulders, you would
have thought she had indeed gone mad. Syscha felt broken at last.
"I wish...I wish I were still a Padawan," she whispered into the hot
and muggy night air. "I would not be strong in the Force, but at least
I would not cause much harm to others! Master Atris was right. I'm
not content to ruin only myself, but I spread disaster wherever
I go!" Master Atris, as far as she knew, still lived on her base
within the Telos polar region, but Syscha had no desire to
confront her again. Their last meeting had not been pleasant...
Whispering even more quietly than before, in the stillness of the
Force, Tysyacha condemned herself. "Dvukhsotnaya, I am not!
Such a person works two hundred times as hard to defend peace
and the galaxy as other mortal men do. I'm just a mere poltora',
a "1 1/2 percenter" who does as much bad as good in her wretched life!"
As she thought of Falya and her ruined voyage, all Syscha could
pray for was a second chance. Would the Force still allow it?
"You are right to feel bad." Elron spoke, his hands tucked into the folds of his sleeves, "For you endangered a child. However, this will be good for the child. Before this ordeal, she was a helpless young child. She was a cassualty, a weakness, a disability to you. However, you watch, she'll come out of this stronger. She won't be so young anymore."
Elron caught a glare from Tadrick, and met it with solid indefirance. He looked back to the Exile, who had pulled the hood over her tear-stained face.
"And as for your reaction...it is only to be expected. Like...many others, you are meerly confused, still trying to figure out what you're doing, what your 'fate' is, what the 'call of the Force' is. No, you are still wandering. You're Exile is not finished yet."
(OOC: Lussk, for a while, will be out of this. I'm going to replace him with a gang of thugs, robbers, and gangsters who I will probably only have for a short while ;P I'll still use him once or twice for... certain things, but it'll be a little while till I start using him full time again. I'll either update this post (if no one else posts after) or just post later with the stuff :O)
Tysyacha shook her head. "No. I suppose not. Following Revan to
war against the Mandalorians was, I thought, the best and bravest
choice I ever made, but now I realize that the Jedi Council was
merciful when they sentenced me to exile instead of imprisonment
or worse..." She looked up at the two cloaked figures, Tadrick and
Elron, and lowered her hood. Vulnerable, and not brave, were her eyes.
"Why are they still after Jedi? The bounty hunters, I mean?" she
asked, still shaking from the encounter. "Goto wanted me to help
to stabilize the galaxy, whether Jedi or Sith ruled it. Also, it was
Darth Traya who ordered the death of all Jedi long ago. Do the
hunters not know that Traya is dead?" She swallowed hard and
went on. "I defeated her while on Malachor V, barely escaping
the planet as it crumbled into space. Did Goto change the purpose
of the bounty? I feel like I don't know anything anymore."
Hopefully, Elron and Tadrick did, although if not, Syscha was
still in far more capable company than she would have been alone!
The Broken man had grown tired of running about what was left of the ancient academy searching for someone left alive. He collapsed onto his knees, and buried his bald scar covered head into his tattered hands. "Who am I........or.......what am I? Am I a man? was I a man? How did this happen to me?". He falls completely dejectedly to the floor, and curls into a fetal type position, and desperately tries to figure who and what he is. He falls asleep, not a calm dreamless slumber, but one racked with horrible nightmares, of unimaginable slaughter. He sees himself being blasted by an old woman with lightning, until his skin seered, he remebers her cold and calculating voice in his dream " Without pain apprentice, there can be no gain, or knowledge of true power, that is the lesson the Trayus academy has in store for you." In his dream the more he begged for the dark torment to stop, the more it intensified, until finally he became one with it, and it only fueled his rage. Then he dreamt of a face, that of a young woman, and how this woman had convinced him to end the pain,. that a life of pain was not worth living. Then total blackness. He awakens with a gasp, he sits up on the floor, his mutilated form covered in sweat........"Such horrible, and terrible dreams, to live out something like that would be truly unimaginably evil it...." He breaks of mid sentence, because he realized that it wasn't just a dream, it was his past. He began to remember things. The old woman was not just a ghastly creature from a dream, but instead his old master....."what was her name...I can't rem.......KREIA!" He rose to his feet and made his way throught the bowels of the academy, to what appeared to be a hidden shuttle bay, he walked through, everything was cluttered, and most of the things in it were unserviceable. towards the end of the bay, near the exit, was a tiny shuttle, just big enough for him, it was all he needed. He climbed up the ramp of the shuttle made his way to the cockpit, and hit the main power switch to see if it was still operational. All the gadgets and lights inside turned on. Then He thought of the face in his dream, the face of the young woman...."I remeber your face, but I cannot remember who you are, I need to find you.......to find out who....or what I am." He punched the thruster and burst from the hangar in an instant. He flew out past countless debris, and broken rocks, as he gazed at what looked like an asteroid field that had come into contact with a dead fleet, he remebered....."MALACHOR"........ "It's gone, how could anything have survived this.....what happened here?" The coordinates of a planet were already in the ships databank. They were for Dantooine. "As good a place as any to start." He pushed the Hyperspace controls, and in an instant his shuttle launched into the stars...........
Gazza sighed. "Are you sure we should try this? I mean, it is TWO Jedi. And like Lussk said, we're probably no match for them. Besides, it's not like the Exchange has a bounty on them anymore." The Twi'lek yelped in pain as his Rodian boss, Tharga, smacked him upside his head.
"Stupid fool! Do you not know of the new Exchange boss? Roggeduh the Hutt! It's common knowledge to most of us that he's a puppet for some larger group. And I'm sure that simply bringing their heads will award us with a fine amount of credits. Besides, didn't that Bantha Fodder of a Trandoshan tell us that he'd give us more if we succeeded?"
"Well," said Agdun, the only human merc in the little score of mercs. Despite his people being easily the most hated race by all the scum on Nar Shaddaa, his slicing skills and abilities with a blaster are deemed legendary, as he built up quite the reputation after being a key part of the robbery of the now late Saquesh's (sp?) Refugee Sector. "We are assuming that, knowing how he acts anyway. And, from what I have found on him, he'll stick to his 'word' whether or not it has been spoken. Much more honorable than most other mercs."
"Like us," a merc in the crowd muttered.
"But is it worth the risk?!" Gazza exclaimed. "We are but twenty, and from legends it is said that just one of those jedi, the female, <who had come here before> (<> = still in context) took out nearly all those in the Jekk'Jekk Tarr when she struck against Visquis! And you know full well just how many hang around there."
"Yes... but," Agdun cut Gazza short, somewhat... "you must admit, they probably didn't expect the Jedi to survive the fumes, I didn't even believe it when I heard of it. They were caught off guard, but from what I can see, it seems as the Jedi's little band is in a bit of a rut. So they'll be the ones off guard this time."
Before Gazza could reply, Tharga shoved him aside and said, "Then it's settled! We'll kill the Jedi, both of them." Gazza sighed.
Nar Shaddaa was a notoriously swamped planet, as stinking and
swarming with life as Nal Hutta, the home of such bloated swamp-
creatures as Vogga the Hutt. Perpetual darkness seemed to smother it.
Speaking of Vogga, Tysyacha had once danced for him, and as she
searched for Falya among the endless sea of faces, she imagined
how much of an easier life she would have had if she'd chosen
that lowly profession! At least there, no one would have
tried to assassinate her unless she danced badly, perhaps!
"If we get of this crowd alive," she told Elron and Tadrick sadly,
"I promise we'll head somewhere else. Somewhere safer and quieter,
and for Hutt's sake, not so teeming with cutthroat bounty hunters!"
She thought for a moment and then came to a decision:
"In fact, I'll let you both decide where we go after we find Falya and
return to the Ebon Hawk. I'm looking for a legendary former Master
of mine, called Darth Revan the last time I heard of him. Do either of you
know if he's still breathing, or what side of the Force he allies himself
with if he is?" Syscha waited with baited breath. She feared she'd made
an utter fool of herself once again, this time in front of two living Masters!
Falya refused to let herself stop running, though she was tired enough to drop. As she ran she wondered how she could have abandoned Syscha. Almost as quickly as the thought had appeared, Falya was able to banish it. After all, she hadn't known Syscha for that long.
"I should go back," she muttered. She slowed to a walk and looked around. But she didn't know where back was and shuddered slightly. In a place like Nar Shaddaa, it is a very bad thing to be lost.
((I'm guessing Revan's a guy))
"Yes, I had felt something in the Force...although it felt more of a vaccuum than of anything else...to know whether or not he was alive though..." Elron said, putting a hand to his chin, "And the Council was merciful indeed. There are much...worse punishments." he said with a grimace, "The Jedi do not believe in killing their prisoners," he said with spite, "Yet some of their...we'll say, angry Knights and Masters have found punishments that, for Force-adepts, are a fate worse than death. Revan was one who experienced that. As were you, although it wasn't at the hands of the Council."
When the Exile didn't speak, Elron looked ahead. Seeing nothing but the normal dirty crowds, he looked back to her. She had taken her hood down, and she kept a solid, confident composure. However, her eyes betrayed her. Instead, fear and uncertainty radiated from the deep blue of her soul.
"Fear not," Elron said, "all shall be resolved in time. And until then...well, I'll see to it that...no harm comes to you."
As of yet.
She was beginning to respond when Elron stopped in his tracks.
What...what the h*ll was that??
They continued walking for a few paces before turning back to look at him.
"I'm fine." he said as the Exile began to open her mouth. Walking quickly, he caught up with them and they continued.
As the masses of people passed them, chatting and going on with daily life, each of their minds unconciously brushed against Elron's. It was a daunting, unnatural weight that would crush most Jedi. Then again, Elron wasn't most Jedi. However, there were times when even his endurance and defense could not stop him from entering people's minds and absorbing thier thoughts, worries, and pains into his own. Even though it would only happen for moments, the force was enough to make his head ring and ache for hours after. But this time...this time it was different.
Most of the time, when his defenses fell, it was at random times for little or no reason at all. This time...this time, he knew that it happened for a reason. Just as his defenses fell, he sensed an amazing amount of Dark energy be unleashed somewhere across the galaxy. Something...something wasn't right. That Dark energy shouldn't be there. It was supposed to be gone. He was dead. The Exile had said so herself that she had killed him at that God forsaken planet. No, he wasn't back. He couldn't be.
(OOC: Good night, everyone! See you in the morning, and excellent work! :) )
((G'night, Syscha! Have a good sleep.))
((yeah, ppl, its gettin late. dont be surprised if i dont say anything until morning. adios amigos))
The Small single shuttle zoomed out of hyperspace, and into space just above the outer rim world of Dantooine. The World glowed a calm and soothing green, againt a backdrop of the darkness that is space. The shuttle zoomed into the atmosphere and slowed down as it cruised over the peaceful plains, that covered most of Dantooine's surface. The shuttle touched down in a small clearing near the remnants of what was once the Jedi Enclave, before Malak turned it to Debris, and ruin.
The man made his way into the courtyard of the enclave, and into the sunshine. It had been quite some time since he felt the warm radiant glow of the sun upon his shattered body. He squinted and put a hand in front of his face, as if to shield himself. "Strange.....I feel calm......my thoughts less troubled, it must be this place, so tranquil, so quiet." He proceeded to the entrance to the enclave, and entered. "Perhaps, some answers to my existence can be found here in this place."
He walked past the great tree which stood in the center of the ruined enclave. He walked cautiously forward to it, and placed a hand on the base of the tree. "UGHHH" A vision of Kreia flashed into his mind. He breathed very heavily....."She....was...here." He panted. "Kreia came here, with that woman from my dream." He stood up abruptly and walked into a moss covered room, which was once the council chambers of the enclave. He stood for a moment to absorb his surroundings. Then kneeled quietly, and thought to himself. "I can feel the force here, there are....echoes from the past. I can feel the death that took place here, the slaughter and the anguish. Has my life revolved around such atrocities? It has. I cannot escape it, because I cannot remember." Quickly Springs to his feet and shouts ....."WHAT AM I."........But a voice continued echoing in his mind, a cold eerie voice.....her voice, the voice of his Dark Master Kreia. "You cannot hide from who and what you are." The voice hissed. "You are a Sith Lord, The lord of Pain, you learned to avoid death through the dark Side, and through your own pain, and that which you nflicted upon others, to increase your own strength, and quest for vengeance." He grabbed his head with both hands, and shook it violently. "NOOOOO.......NOOOOO....get out of my head, Witch."........Kreia's voice hissed gleefully......"Still to this day apprentice you have learned nothing in the way of Knowledge, or teaching, you are nothing more than a volatile brute. To see so many jedi brought to their end by such a failure, sickens me."
"The failure is yours, not mine! No longer will I have your voice echo in my skull, no longer will I suffer beneath your council.....GET OUT MASTER....I need your advice no longer." He snarled angrily.
"Did you ever truly think I was in your head, you are remebering things from the past, things about the merciless monster that hides beneath that distorted, and twisted form, your shattered and hideous form, is only the shell to the true Monster within you....SION." Kreia hissed. And as quickly and randomly as her council had appeared, it was gone, as if it had never been there.
He collapsed to his hands and knees, and remebered, remembered everything. From his first Jedi kill, to the day he Bacame the creature his is today, up until the moment, when he faced her, THE EXILE. She had convinced him that by giving up the force, his pain would subside, and all the hatred would dissappear. But yet, even his own will, was not as strong as the aura of the Dark Side which kept his body alive. He felt his skin crawl, and his blood boil, a rage, a hatred returned, he felt his mind focus for the first time since he had awakened. "All that's left for me is revenge.....revenge against the remainder of the Jedi, against the republic, against Revan, and against The exile."
He sneered a hateful smile, and stood up and walked out of the academy to his ship.
"But before I search and destroy Revan, I must find the exile, and make her pay for what she has done to me! I will remake her, so that when I look upon her it will be as though looking in a mirror, her flesh and her existence will be as tormented as mine."
He boards his shuttle and sets out for the known Galaxy.
((GOODNIGHT, TAKE CARE GANG))
((Ladies and gentlemen, we have our villain :D and now it's time for me to say goodnight as well. Enjoy your night.))
((OOC: apologies to all about my lack of input, I'm from the UK so my timing might be off a little, I just wish I could have been here to add to what is taking a fantasic shape already, thanks for allowing me to be in on this, and I'll try to be around as much as I can))
The pain continued to pulse in Elron's head. Why couldn't he shut it out? Why wouldn't it leave him? The pain...through it, he became weak. Through weakness, he became powerless. Through being powerless, he became chained. He had to end it, yet he couldn't. And through it all, the echo of the Darkside grew stronger. Whatever it was, it seemed to be getting closer.
Elron had always had acute hearing to the Force, yet it had never been like this. Often he could seek out Force-sensatives, such as the Exile, from anywhere on any given planet by following their echo, but this...whatever it was had fallen so far, that its echo reached across the galaxy.
Something was wrong. Something was very wrong.
((OOC: Syscha, did your Exile aid Vaklu, or rescue Queen Talia?))
Sion sat in the cockpit of his shuttle, watching the stars go streaming by, as he flew through hyperspace. He stared at his reflection in the window of the cocpit window. He thought to himself quietly, "where do I begin, where would my enemies go to hide themselves, to hide oneself from the galaxy is easy, but to hide oneself from the force......from ME, is impossible. Exile.....I will hunt you wherever you go, everytime you see a shadow, or feel an unseen darkness over your shoulder, I'll be there. Kreia protected you from me once before, she will not do so again....she is dead, and soon enough you will join, her......but not before I find Revan, and your going to lead me to him, wheteher you know it or not. He is tied to you, to the galaxy, I can feel it."
All of the lights on the Navigational CPU began blinking. Sion looked down at it and sneered........"Approaching Onderon....I have not been there for years, not since I was a student at Malak's academy. I can feel a trace of The exile here, she passed through here, I will find her."
The shuttle exited Lightspeed, and entered the atmosphere, Sion bypassed the Orbital checkpoint, and landed on the Outskirts of the walled City of Iziz. He covered his body in a black cloak, and pulled the hood over his face, so that none could realize his true identity. Also the fact that he was basically a walking corpse, wouldn't lure potential informants to his cause. He walked down the main street of Iziz, and headed towards the merchant sector and Sky ramp, rubble filled the streets, he could see workers scurrying about to restore buildings, and equipment damaged during the Civil war.