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Sithspawn
Summary

Sithspawn is an intermediate to advanced play-by-post role-playing forum. Set in the immensely rich Star Wars universe, the game takes place some years after 3,000 Before Battle of Yavin. For more information on the Timeline, History and events on Sithspawn please browse the links under Navigation.

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The people who get shit done. Allegedly.

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Numbers that are usually inaccurate.

Alliance: 14
Confederation: 16
Mandalorian: 15
Jedi Order: 11
Cult: 12
Criminal: 7
Neutral: 9

Newsflash
We don't update this as much as we should.

Timeline year: 305 ARE
-
Reports coming from Coruscant show a marked increase in crime statistics, specifically vigilante justice. The Judges are cracking down on the vigilante groups but have so far been unsuccessful.
---
According to Confederation sources the Jedi Order has joined the conflict on the side of the terrorist organisation calling itself the Alliance of Free Planets, declaring war on the Confederation of Dolomar. The Confederation openly condemned this move by the former peacekeeping group, one representative going so far as accusing them of indoctrination of the youth and fearmongering.
---
The galactic superstar Mystiq Venus had her recent album 'Tangerine Kisses' go platinum. In celebration of this tremendous success Venus is planning on launching a tour through the Core, Inner, and Mid Rims to thank her fans for their dedication. A percentage of the proceeds will be given to The Norman and Valzeek Charity for Wartime Orphans.

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 Assault on Korriban, Part II
Wes Loran
Posted: Nov 7 2008, 11:14 AM
Quote Post


Captain Kirk
Group Icon

Group: Alliance Admin
Posts: 1,605
Member No.: 1
Joined: 30-April 06



((The Mandalorian and Jedi transports have successfully reached the planets surface without meeting trouble. They're a distance away from the Cult's now crumbling main building, but there can be seen a few Cultists still alive running about trying to get to the hangars or any other way of escaping the fate that awaits them.

As the battle continues the posting order ceases to be important, as long as everyone gets a post in each round, unless they give up their posting spot for a round. The first round will be introduction and eventual positioning for the Mandalorians, after the first round the characters can go off and do whatever they want. The thread is closed to Cultists during the first round, after the first round it becomes a fully open thread.

Did I's towards NPC's do not have to be done, but remember to be realistic despite this freedom. Did I's towards PC's are required. Large actions (like determining if a volley of fire from the Mandalorian tanks managed to ruin this and this building) still require Did I's.

The Jedi and Cultists can go off right after the first round into their separate duel threads if they do not wish to be encumbered by the main battle thread, or they can go looking for each other in the main thread, for added realism. The Cult's established fighting list will not be taken into account. If a Cultists finds a Jedi in the main battle thread or vice versa, they're stuck fighting unless one of them runs.

Everyone is required to reserve a posting spot if the posting order isn't specific or if the posting order is no longer in action. To do this, merely post a short one stating that you reserve the spot, and then edit this post to contain your finished product. If you're thinking of reserving, keep in mind that you should be writing the post directly after. Letting people wait after reserving will result in the offender getting kicked out of the thread entirely.

Questions should be PMed to Wes.))


--------------------
Name: John Wesley Garik Loran [BANK]
Nicknames: Wes
Callsign: Casanova, "Nova"
Alias: Eldar Sercess, Falkieri Phelan, Pike Kunta
Gender: Male
Age: 53
Species: Human
Homeworld: Corellia
Ship: TL-1800 freighter, S-250 Chela-class starfighter

Faction: Alliance of Free Planets
Rank: Director of Intelligence, Grand Admiral/Marshal
Class: Pilot/Smuggler/Spy
Flagship: Foreigner, Keldabe-class Battleship

Inventory:
  • Rebel Body Armour
  • Baragwin Stealth Unit
  • Force Mask
  • S-5 Heavy Blaster Pistol
  • Vibro knuckler
  • Controller FP (extendable)
  • Wrist Launcher
  • Tranquilizer Darts (x10)
  • Vibrosword
  • ABC Scrambler
    - 3x ABC pods
  • TD2.3 Electrobinoculars
  • Light amplification goggles
  • Mechanical interface visor
  • Headset comlink
  • Sonic pacifier
  • Stokhli spray stick
  • Gyrda keypad
  • FD-62 security de-scrambler
  • Level D Implant
  • Cortical Datasplint
  • x15 Frag grenades
  • x5 Smoke grenades
  • x10 G-20 Glop grenades
  • x3 Detonation packs
  • Bounty Hunters' Guild License
  • Marksman-H Remote
  • Medallion
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Orion Athiachos
Posted: Nov 7 2008, 04:05 PM
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Unregistered









At last, it was time. Orion was strapped into the side of the transport, along with the rest of his Mandalorian bretheren, to keep them from being tossed around the transport like ragdolls. It was calm and quiet until they hit the planet's atmosphere, and the ships hull would likely be as red as a a cherry at this point. The big Canderous-class assault tank dominated the center of the transport, gleaming in all it's destructive glory. His heart pounded in his chest, excitement of his own along with the added excitment of his brothers and sisters strapped in next to him.

Orion took a deep breath, the high definition viewscreen in his helmet jumping with the turbulence. Excitement and battle or no, Orion could not allow himself to give in to these emotions. He had to think clearly and reasonably, without the thirst for blood clouding his judgement.

Finally, the transport evened out and Orion let out a sigh of relief. That meant that the dar'jetaii did not have any hidden cannons or AA guns that had hit any of their transports, he could hear from the radio static in the cockpit. The ship hit the ground with a resounding thud, again making the image sensors on the interior of his helmet jump with the impact.

Orion was the firsts to unstrap himself, standing to his full considerable height and rolling his broad shoulders to drain the tension in them. They all turned their helmeted heads to him, waiting expectantly for orders.

"Get the tanks unstrapped first, and get them unloaded. We cannot afford to waste any time."

At once, the small group of Mando'ade were a flurry of action, unstrapping the tank and making sure their equipment checked out. Orion tapped his comlink system to the other transports, making sure that things were proceeding as planned with the other three tank contact vessels. If the transports carrying the elite Mandalorians had encountered trouble, they would have radioed him by now.

The ramp of the transport lowered, and Orion checked his beskad and his helmet, and then took the first step down onto the dusted surface of Korriban. Orion agreed with his Mand'alor, and that the leaders should be the first ones in line to get shot at. Not that it seemed shooting at them was on the dar'jetti's minds at the moment. The sunlight would have burned his eyes had he not been helmed, as he took a moment (but just a moment), to take in the landscape.

It was not a handsome planet, or even an interesting one. It was platoes of barren desert wasteland, but without even the scrubby bushes and life (if one knew where to look for it), that was typical of most desert planets. Orion's flesh shuddered on his bones. There was just something so intrinstically wrong about this place he could barely stand it. However, he shook his head out of his thoughts and turned back to see how the transport unloading was going.

And that was when Orion caught his first sight of a Jedi. He had known since Cabur Mand'alor told him about the Assault a while ago that they would have to work together with the Jedi in order to survive, even though his mind was revolted at the thought. And if Orion, the most easygoing of the Mando'ade towards outsiders was disgusted, he could only imagine the disgust of his fellows.

But they had to. Orion steeled his resolve. He decided he would go with one of the Jedi, if they would have him, and show the soldiers in this war that if he was capable of working with the Force Users, than so would they.

All the four tanks were being unloaded at precisely the same time, being backed carefully down the ramps until they hit the dusty earth of Korriban, the men inside piloting them expertly to neary pivot around in place and aim towards where they could distantly see the little figures of the fleeing Cultists. Orion held up his macrobinoculars to his face, to take a closer look.

The dar'jetaii seemed to be in a state of sheer panick. They were running around with what looked like no set plan, or a strategy. Orion snorted as the transport vessels lifted off from the ground and proceeded away, leaving a relatively small group behind. To most people, perhaps, this would have seemed a extremely small force for this level of battle, but Orion knew better. These were some of the most elite members of the Mando'ade, and they were strong, tough, and proven warriors. They would be more than capable of handling the enemy Force Users in the distance.

He hoped.

As one, the tanks and the Mando'ade started to move forward to set positions, the tanks slowing to a stop as well as the other Mandalorians as soon as they reached position. They would not make a move until the Jedi were also unloaded and in position.

But even though his enemy couldn't see it, Orion's thin lips broke into a savage grin. His gray eyes were as hard as moonstones, as he calculated the trajectory while looking through his Macrobinoculars towards what seemed to be a larger than average group of Cultists. He shouted out coordinants to a Mando crouched near a portable computer, who listened intently to his words.

Orion went over to check that the coordinates proceeded to the right area he had hoped to target. Another savage grin. He typed in something into the small computer, and it sent out a radio signal with the coordinates for the attack. As Orion reached an affirmative towards each Canderous-Assault tank's receival of the information. he turned to look towards the enemy compound.

"Fire."

((Did the concert tank-fire hit the same spot in sucession, at the small gathered group of Cultists? How much damage did it do?))
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Wes Loran
Posted: Nov 7 2008, 04:11 PM
Quote Post


Captain Kirk
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Group: Alliance Admin
Posts: 1,605
Member No.: 1
Joined: 30-April 06



((The volley did as expected, hitting the targeted area with precision. All of the running Cultists are either dead, crippled or laying low to avoid another shot. Anyone who is more or less unscathed have only managed it by extensive use of the Force. There are a fair amount of them that have avoided the fate of death, but most are wounded.))


--------------------
Name: John Wesley Garik Loran [BANK]
Nicknames: Wes
Callsign: Casanova, "Nova"
Alias: Eldar Sercess, Falkieri Phelan, Pike Kunta
Gender: Male
Age: 53
Species: Human
Homeworld: Corellia
Ship: TL-1800 freighter, S-250 Chela-class starfighter

Faction: Alliance of Free Planets
Rank: Director of Intelligence, Grand Admiral/Marshal
Class: Pilot/Smuggler/Spy
Flagship: Foreigner, Keldabe-class Battleship

Inventory:
  • Rebel Body Armour
  • Baragwin Stealth Unit
  • Force Mask
  • S-5 Heavy Blaster Pistol
  • Vibro knuckler
  • Controller FP (extendable)
  • Wrist Launcher
  • Tranquilizer Darts (x10)
  • Vibrosword
  • ABC Scrambler
    - 3x ABC pods
  • TD2.3 Electrobinoculars
  • Light amplification goggles
  • Mechanical interface visor
  • Headset comlink
  • Sonic pacifier
  • Stokhli spray stick
  • Gyrda keypad
  • FD-62 security de-scrambler
  • Level D Implant
  • Cortical Datasplint
  • x15 Frag grenades
  • x5 Smoke grenades
  • x10 G-20 Glop grenades
  • x3 Detonation packs
  • Bounty Hunters' Guild License
  • Marksman-H Remote
  • Medallion
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Veyron Rumare
Posted: Nov 7 2008, 05:00 PM
Quote Post


Shyrack
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Group: Jedi Order
Posts: 186
Member No.: 87
Joined: 16-October 07



As the Sage Master had looked out on the carnage being wrought by the orbital bombardment, something that Titch could only describe as a simmering puddle of anxious expectation had settled in the pit of his stomach. It was nothing like something one would imagine a Guardian would feel; eager to fight in a righteous battle, but it wasn’t complete reluctance towards the whole issue either. Veyron, in his time, hadn’t participated in any operation like the one they found themselves doing. All out war wasn’t his piece of cake, although he’d heard about other situations where Jedi on failed diplomatic missions had needed to resort to such tactics.

Titch was very much up for a fight when it was required of him, but he couldn’t bring himself to look forward to such things. He’d rather look forward to the times after such a fight, where he could maybe find a moment to relax, pull out a book and discover more sought after knowledge. This one, however, was a different line of business. This time the Jedi were fighting misguided and deluded Dark Jedi, mere Cultists following in the long gone Sith’s footsteps. Fighting these posers would be a simple matter compared to fighting true Sith, but he was sure a select few of them wielded considerable power, not enough to save the fate that awaited them, of course.

While his nature as a Jedi prevented him from actively looking forward to the fight that would soon present itself, he couldn’t help but feel an eagerness to get it done. These Cultists would soon be removed from the galaxy as a force to be reckoned with, if they’d ever been in the first place. He was sure a few stragglers were floating somewhere, but they’d be hunted down eventually as well, even if it meant for him to stay out of the library until every last one of them were ended. The Jedi would deal with this new blight upon the galaxy, as they’d done for millennia before.

Now as the Jedi transports were descending to the surface of Korriban, his previous emotions faded gently away to be replaced by the ever consuming river of calm he preferred to wade in. It took mere moments before the transport was settled on the ground and all the collected Jedi marched out, the Jedi had arrived moments after the Mandalorians, but he saw they were already pulling out the heavy machinery. Casting a glance around, he saw a few other transports, Mandalorian and Jedi, settling down on the surface of the planet. The assault force wasn’t large, but he was sure with Mandalorians and Jedi collected size would matter very little. The art of war was one said to have been perfected by the Mandalorian culture.

At the moment, they were nowhere near the collected group of surviving Cultists from the main attack, but he was sure they’d come to face them, as he was sure any who tried to flee up top would get ‘vaped’, as the Alliance fighter pilots called it. With a fair amount of scrutiny, he gave the closest Canderous-class assault tank a thoughtful gaze. While he was a Jedi who valued peace, he couldn’t help but marvel at the excellent engineering behind some war machines. The mechanic in him was close to the heart.

It seemed as soon as the Mandalorians were out of their transports they started the attack, but there was no rushing forward involved. The tank commander had targeted a group of Cultists gathering, killing some and crippling others. To Titch’s annoyance a few seemed to get out of the inferno scot free, but it was to be expected. The Force was a formidable opponent to the crude methods of war.

He glanced back at his fellow Jedi, feeling slight apprehension towards the Mandalorians. It was no secret the fierce warriors had more than a chip on the shoulder when it came to the Jedi, and the attitudes he read off the annoyingly masked soldiers enforced it. It would be a shaky alliance of convenience, but he’d do his best to cooperate with the Mandalorians. Even if Jedi of the past had not managed to change the Mandalorian opinion of them, maybe in Titch’s age, with this turmoil, they could lay down the paving stones for a less strained relationship.


--------------------
Name: Veyron Rumare [BANK]
Nicknames: Titch, Vey, Shorty
Gender: Male
Age: 53
Species: Human
Birthplanet: Alderaan
Ship: Oliver, DeepWater-class light freighter

Faction: Jedi Order
Rank: Sage Master, Council Member

Inventory:
  • Greater Krayt Dragon Pearl
  • Ossus Keeper Robes
  • Jedi Battle Armour
  • Lightsaber (green, Solari, Pontite)
  • Lightwhip (yellow, Corusca, Lorrdian)
  • PAC20 visual wrist comlink
  • Repair toolkit
  • Scavenger hawk
  • Jedi Utility Belt
  • ^A99 Aqua Breather
  • ^Gauntlet Holo Projector
  • ^Various Antidotes
  • Archaeology toolkit
  • Holocron (Sith Alchemy)

  • Threads:
  • Time Stand Still
  • Council Meeting
  • Dust and Echoes
  • Spindrift
  • Prelude
  • Leave That Thing Alone
  • Lessons
  • Xanadu
  • Home Is Where The Heart Is
  • Beneath, Between And Behind
  • We're Not Okay
  • A Farewell To Kings
  • Last Days of Pompeii

  • Lightsaber Forms
    Mastered:
  • Form III: Soresu
  • Form IV: Ataru
  • Known:
  • Form I: Shii-Cho
  • Form III: Soresu
  • Form IV: Ataru
  • Form V: Djem So

  • Specialised FP:
  • Force Light: Master
  • Sever Force: Master
  • Battle Meditation: Beginner


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    Kalin Skirata
    Posted: Nov 9 2008, 10:34 AM
    Quote Post


    Unregistered









    The attack against the Dar'jetiise had finally come. Kalin would much rather be attacking the gi’e but it was important to work with the Jetiise he guessed. Kalin stared blankly at the wall in front of him. Though he would not show or express it in anyway he was very much pumped up for the battle. The upcoming fight sent him into an almost serene frenzy. He experienced this state of mind often, a quiet rage that propelled him in battle.

    The ride was getting very rough as they entered the atmosphere of the planet. Kalin was fairly surprised there wasn’t any incoming flak. Their base must not have been adequately fortified, jare'la Dar'jetiise. In any case he was glad that they weren’t getting shot at, he would hate to have died before he got the chance to get his hands around one of their necks. He waited patiently to enter the lower atmosphere were he would be only seconds away from the battle.

    One could almost cut the tension with the group of soldiers he had become accompanied with. A few of them had heard of Kalin’s “tales” on the battlefield, most of which Kalin knew weren’t true but he didn't care enough to correct them, and decided to spread them across the transport. He hated when this happened but Kalin’s armor made him easily recognizable to quite a bit of Mando’ade, even if they had never seen him before. It was thanks to the rumors his old squad had spread that Kalin was known by a lot of younger or newer Mando’ade, as they were more likely to believe and spread these rumors.

    Somehow Kalin was forced to ride with, and lead, a small squad; which Kalin grudgingly accepted to do despite his reluctance. Kalin had made sure to learn all there names before the battle started; there was Ukam, Tar’jeb and Vasoran. He hadn’t said much on their way to Korriban or on the descent to the surface. There were, of course, others on the transport but Kalin was only focused on his squad. He made sure that they were prepared and ready for battle, the things he figured a leader would do. They also, at first, tried to socialize with him but when Kalin only kept to himself they eventually gave up. Kalin just looked down at his disruptor and hoped he managed to get a clean shot with it.

    The ride down smoothed as they got lower and eventually Kalin knew they would be groundside soon. He stood, along with the rest of his vode, and waited for the transport doors to open. Kalin gripped his pistol as they got lower and closer to the surface. Right before the landing doors fell Kalin heard someone behind him make a remark though it was drowned out by the firing of Canderous tanks directly to the left of their transport.

    Kalin hopped from the transport and yelled back to his squad.

    “Move!

    Dust shot upward as the verde unloaded from the drop ship. Kalin quickly looked around the barren wasteland that was Korriban. One could almost feel the despair and evil radiating off the planet. Instantly Kalin did not like this place. Even underneath his helmet the air felt dry and musty, it made Kalin extremely uneasy.

    Shots rang out to the left of his position and Kalin turned to see the familiar Canderous Assault Tanks. They definitely were magnificent machines and should inspire fear in the enemies hearts, which made Kalin grin with amusement. More Mandalorian soldiers poured out of the, now landing, transports; some even along with the Jetiise. As he thought about them Kalin realized he probably didn’t hold the contempt that most of his fellow vode did, mainly because he judged each individual by their honor, word and fighting skill. He didn’t approve of many of the things they did, and have done, but he would do his best to respect them and work with them.

    Steeling himself he looked onward at the, already destroyed, building far off in the distance. He looked back at his squad and grinned beneath his helmet.

    “Lets go.”


    ( Mando’ade = Mandalorians (plural)
    Dar’jetiise = Someone who is no longer a Jedi/Sith (plural)
    Jetiise = Jedi (plural)
    verde = warrior, soldier (plural)
    jare'la = stupidly oblivious of danger, asking for it )
    Top
    Shay Marin
    Posted: Nov 10 2008, 03:15 AM
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    Commander Spock
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    Group: Jedi Order GM
    Posts: 1,484
    Member No.: 154
    Joined: 21-February 08



    I changed my mind. Nar Shaddaa isn't my least favorite planet anymore.

    Shay had never seen what Korriban looked like before the planning of this assault. There had been no need for any Jedi to know how the tomb world appeared to one's eyes for centuries. The holos the Keepers had culled from the Archives in the weeks prior to today had been grainy, flickering, incomplete in their demonstrations of desolateness. And of course no image created by technology could ever hope to convey the feel of a world, the sense of a place one could only experience through the Force.

    Even the distant perspective of high orbit could not soften the harsh landscapes of Korriban. Horuset's unforgiving light glared down onto its barren surface, setting what few native live forms remained scuttling for the nearest cover. The black of space had nothing on the darkness which held the dun and red colored ball of rock fast in its orbit. This place was a blight on the senses, physical as well as metaphysical. No right-minded person would want to spend so much as a few minutes on the planet.

    So of course, like a moron, I'm headed right towards it. No wonder people say we Jedi are crazy. Master Marin's sense of humor was not what it normally was, considering she wasn't finding her own jokes at all funny for a change. The Dolomarian could laugh about almost anything in life, but the battle to come was the rare exception which proved the rule. It was not concern for herself that dampened her spirits in this regard, but for her fellow Jedi, especially those currently underneath her command. Some of the sentients riding down to the ground in the very same transport as her would not be leaving this place alive. She knew this as a truth, for the Force had told her so.

    The deckplates began to shiver beneath her booted feet as the borrowed Alliance shuttle started to penetrate Korriban's thin layer of atmosphere. The tension in the transport's air heightened--subtly so, since they were Jedi after all, but still there. No one on board was glad for the necessity of this confrontation. The Guardians were perhaps looking forward to the opportunity to use their strongest skills in the defense of the galaxy, but that was as close as anyone came.

    That said, none were afraid either, and for that Shay was glad. Fear was a dangerous emotion at the best of times; it would be downright suicidal to entertain such feelings while walking upon the rotting heart of corruption itself. The Jedi Master didn't want to think any of her kind could be turned merely as a result of standing on Korriban's surface, but under the circumstances she could not afford to rely on such a comforting idea. Nor was she about to believe for one picosecond that she herself could not theoretically be tempted by the darkness. Greater Jedi than her had felt so in the past and fallen as a result. My people will look after me, and I shall look after my people.

    In the last seconds before the transport touched down, the Dolomarian Jedi closed her eyes and cleansed her mind of all that was extraneous to the task at hand. The last moment of selfish frivolity she allowed herself was the recollection of Mac's face, just how it had looked before they'd gone their separate ways to report to their stations in the fleet. I will come back to you, love. I promise.

    To be fair, Mac hadn't said or done anything to indicate he'd been worried about that prospect. In fact, if he'd truly felt that way, the Corellian had been doing an excellent job of hiding it from himself as well as her. Still, she knew his history, and Shay was determined not to be someone else he cared for that died on him. He'd had more than his fair share of grief for one lifetime.

    Then there was no more time for reminiscing, as the whole craft shuddered upon making landfall. Within seconds, all the Knights and Masters on board were unstrapped from their safety harnesses and filing out the shuttle's loading door at doubletime, with the Councilwoman at the fore of the party. Shay's first lungful of sere Korriban air did its best to steal all the moisture from her throat. This place even tastes dead. For a moment her sense of curiosity caused her to wonder whether the Dark Side had sucked the life away from the planet millenia ago, or if the world had always been this way and the Dark Siders had simply found it a convenient home.

    A short distance off to the blonde woman's right was a Mandalorian troop transport, emptying its load of armored warriors onto the dusty ground. Shay and her assigned group of Force users were getting more than a few hard looks from the Alliance's other 'friends'. Sure, she couldn't actually see the glares thanks to the Mandalorians' visors, but you didn't have to be a Jedi to feel them at that intensity level. Giving into a moment of whimsy, Master Marin shot her audience a bright smile and a cheeky salute with her main lightsaber hilt. The mixed emotions that rippled back at her through the Force--surprise, disgust, irritation, begrudging respect, even some amusement--let her know the gesture hadn't been missed by its intended targets.

    Shifting her amber gaze towards more pressing matters, the Dolomarian took in the sight of the smoking ruins some distance ahead. Since the Mandalorians are going to get involved in a fight they have no business being in, at least they were smart enough to bring some heavy artillery with them. "Let's go," she spoke up at last. "If our 'fans' over there beat us to the Cultists, they'll never let us forget it," Shay quipped wryly. A few of the other Jedi chuckled in response, but most merely nodded stoically before following after their leader. With an instant's concentration, Master Marin sent a psychic 'ping' towards her fellow Council members--and Lysander, of course--letting them know her position and direction.


    --------------------
    user posted image

    Name: Shae'andri'lar Marin
    Nicknames: Shay, Shay-face
    Current Aliases: Brin Trell, Nara Andros, Tacita Drea
    Gender: Female
    Age: 43
    Species: Human
    Homeworld: Dolomar
    Personal Ship: The Lucidity, a Delaya-class courier
    Modifications: Class 1 Hyperdrive, Tractor Beam
    Secondary Ship: The Equinox, a YV-929 armed freighter
    Modifications: Second-Degree AI
    Teritary Ship: A Stealth X Starfighter
    Modifications: Jedi Shadow Bomb (x10)

    Faction: Jedi Order (Alliance [Provisional Commission])
    Rank: Jedi Master (Lt. Colonel/Intelligence)
    Class: Jedi Sentinel/Investigator
    Known Forms: Shii-Cho, Makashi, Soresu, Shien, Niman
    Mastered Forms: Soresu, Shien

    Inventory:
    Threads:
  • When Opportunity Knocks
  • Wicked Games
  • All Good Things Come to an End
  • The Frayed Ends of Sanity
  • Slipping Through The Cracks
  • Pure and Easy
  • Peace of Mind
  • Council Meeting
  • Final Solution
  • We Never Change
  • If You Want Blood (You Got It)
  • Another Tricky Day
  • To Be Alone With You
  • Everything's Not Lost (Memories)
  • What Goes Around Comes Around
  • Honourable Intentions
  • Connected
  • Decisions, Decisions
  • Slow Me Down
  • Come Together
  • Knowing Me, Knowing You
  • Assault on Korriban, Part II
  • Eye of the Storm
  • Read My Mind
  • The Devil Takes the Hindmost
  • Ends and Beginnings
  • Somebody Told Me
  • Anti-Violent
  • How You Remind Me
  • Snow Blind
  • Miserable at Best
  • Harder to Breathe
  • I'm Your Fool
  • Ammunition
  • This is Your Life
  • Try To Fix You
  • Marching on a Dead End Road
  • We're Not Okay
  • Never Is Enough
  • Clothes of Sheep
  • From Keldabe, With Love
  • More Than His Share
  • You May Be Right
  • Look What You Did
  • Salut des Armes
  • Follow You Down
  • Uncharted Sea
  • The Family You Come From
  • The Winds of Change
  • Hey, Soul Sister
  • All Right Now
  • I Will Not Bow
  • In Quartata...

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    Nathaniel Stone
    Posted: Nov 12 2008, 10:09 PM
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    Maalraas
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    Group: Jedi Order
    Posts: 132
    Member No.: 229
    Joined: 28-March 08



    Darkness. Even with the harsh light of its sun rebounding off its surface, in the eyes of a Consular, Korriban was little more than darkness. The land was blighted on all levels, and even now while Master Stone was seated and strapped in and could not see the planet with his physical eyes, he could feel it drawing closer through his fine-tuned senses.

    In weaker hearts, this planet might have caused fear or at least some small trepidation. But for one like Nathaniel, it was only a change in his awareness and not in his ever pervasive calm. He could feel the subtle shifts of emotion in the Jedi on the shuttle with him, but their slight rises in apprehension were to be expected. This was no easy thing the Council had asked of them. And while they were all willing, they all understood the danger and were right to be on their toes.

    Indeed, unlike his Padawan’s seemingly popular belief, Master Stone was not looking forward to this fight. There was no part of him that desired to destroy these men and women who had fallen to the darkside. But he understood his duty, and did not turn away from what was needed from him. Evil would triumph if good sat by and did nothing. Complacency and inaction were the first steps to a quick end. That much had been proven over millennia, and would be proven again if this action were not taken here and now.

    The Padawans were not old enough or experienced enough to understand. That along with their lesser abilities was the main reason they were not here. The Knights and the Masters had seen and heard enough to do their duty without serious question.

    The same could not be said for young and unwise minds. Forty years ago, Nathaniel might not have understood either, and might have protested such violence. Indeed, he was quite sure he would have. But time had taught him that such idle, lighthearted notions were best left at the door when dealing with those of an outwardly dark nature. The darkside would give no such leniencies to those of the light. Mercy was best used on those who would not take advantage of it.

    It was with the ever present calm in his heart that Nathaniel felt the shuttle touch down. Restraints were released and the Knights and Masters were exiting their shuttle, lightsabers pulled from their belts and at the ready. The Jedi were barely off the shuttle before the ramp was closing and the shuttle was away. They couldn’t afford to have their transports off this rock getting sabotaged. They’d be back when they needed them.

    The air shook with the sound of the Mandalorians already launching a volley of attack. Nathaniel watched as a clustered group of the Cultists were blown apart. He took no personal satisfaction at their deaths, but he did mentally thank the Mandalorians for ridding them of a handful more of the darksiders. That would be one less dead Jedi at the end of this fight.

    He took a glance, noting that a couple of the Mandalorians were spiking recognition signals upon the sight of him. Must have been a pair he’d seen on Mandalore all those months ago, then, if they were to recognize him on sight. Their animosity towards him seemed less than that of many of the others, and he could only hope that meant that his time helping them after their run-in with the Confederation would still be a good basis for a healed relationship in the future. A small start, but a start nonetheless.

    He could feel the presence of Shae’andri’lar announce herself, and quietly he sought out the other Council members as well. They were moving out. Pressing his lightsaber over his heart briefly, he though May the Force be with us all, solemnly, and then with a wordless order, he was leading his small group out into the pending battlefield.


    --------------------
    user posted image

    Name: Nathaniel Stone
    Nicknames: Old Stoneface, Buzzkill, Buttons, Brickwall
    Gender: Male
    Age: 52
    Species: Human
    Birthplanet: Coruscant
    Ship: Hope's Fire, Delta Aethersprite (Class 1 Hypderdrive Ring)

    Faction: Jedi
    Rank: Sage Master/Council Member
    Padawan: Seras Amadis

    Inventory:
    • green lightsaber (corusca gem, velmorite crystal)
    • personal comm
    • datapad
    • small first aid kit
    • Jedi Master Robes
    • Jedi Utility Belt
    • ^Antidotes for various poisons
    • ^A99 Aquata Breather
    • ^Gauntlet holo-projector
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    Zhen Vo
    Posted: Nov 14 2008, 09:41 PM
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    Zhen sat in quiet concentration within the confines of the small personnel transport. He had recently completed a mission, to hunt down and eradicate a certain amount of Tantajoc predators. He had killed a fair amount of these beasts and had seems to be quietly enjoying the exercise. Deep down, killing any life form was one of the most heart wrenching acts for Zhen. Even now, after a few weeks, he still felt the pain of those poor creatures. He had winced at every death, even the quickest of them.

    Now Zhen had been asked to go forth and kill again for the good of the galaxy. The Cult of Sadow were a group of despicable evil tyrants wanting to bring back and imitate a band of ruthless, heartless and despicable killers. The Sith amongst all else within this galaxy, could never be brought back to the powers they once were. Zhen had spent many years researching the Sith wars and the Sith in general. He had also used psychometry to watch and feel the events of the past. The Sith could not be aloud to re-awaken.

    The transport began to bump around as they broke through the planets atmosphere. The battle was upon them, and all must be prepared. Zhen stood from his sitting position and turned to address the rag tag group of Jedi who had been assigned to him. Zhen had asked only for three Jedi to be assigned to his command. Jensen Endalaust, Mikkt Rist and Thade Slater. The three Jedi who had accompanied him on his last mission. Zhen had felt that all three Jedi had worked well together and would be as equally useful together at the battle. The three would also be prepared for the on coming speech Zhen had prepared earlier.

    “We are going into a battle ground. A battle ground that will soon be filled with the blood of our enemies and the blood of our own. Prepare yourself now, for the person standing next to you, could be dead within the hour. We, the Jedi council, have asked it upon you, that you fight against this evil. We have laid a heavy burden upon your shoulders. As you well know, we will be standing upon Sith ground, and the dark energies surrounding Korriban will not be helpful either. I ask you of two things. Fight with valour, and strike down your enemies for the good of the galaxy. And secondly, feel no regret and no remorse. For those feelings, the dark side ensues. And may the force be with us all.” Zhen nodded towards the collected Jedi group.

    The transport began to slow as the designated landing area quickly caught up with them. The doors quickly slid open and the transport came to an abrupt halt. Zhen jobbed out from the transport and slowly walked forward to get a better look at the battle grounds. The dark side energy was swelling around him, almost feelings like it was trying to attack him. Zhen dismissed the energy and set his focus on the task at hand. Zhen felt the ping from Shae’andri’lar and smiled. It was nice that his fellow councillors were making them selves known to each other. Though Zhen had outstretched his mind and new were each council member was exactly. Zhen reached for his lightsaber and held it in his hand. Though he would not use it a lot, he always enjoyed to know the connection between himself and his weapon was still so strong. Zhen began to lead his group into the battlefield.
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    Kegan Kelt
    Posted: Nov 15 2008, 09:02 PM
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    Kegan settled into the powerful embrace of the transport ship’s protective fastenings with a smile on his face. Though none of his vode could see the ugly grin hidden beneath his buy’ce just about everyone there could tell he was having a good time. He wasn’t one of those sick bastards that enjoyed slaughter or an adrenaline junky looking for the next near death experience but for the Ori’ramikad a Mando’ade assault (his first) was cause for joy.

    Turbulence from the atmospheric entry rocked the Mando’ad secured within and the Dashade tempered his excitement with the responsibilities of his men. Based on the success of his past missions for Manda’yaim and aided by his biological and psychological factors he had been chosen as one of the leaders of the Ori’ramikad squads for the assault. They were going to have to work with jetiise against dar’jetiise[/i] during this assault. As one of the few Mando’ad on the assault adopted into the clans he lacked the prejudice many held against force users.

    During their descent there was nothing but the rocking of the ship through atmospheric entry until the gentle thud of their landing on the planet. It was further proof of just how unprepared the Cult was that no AA guns lashed out or defense systems sprung to life. The soldiers were left unmolested the entire landing. When the doors opened a half dozen visors automatically adjusted to the bright glare and the Mando’ade quickly stepped out to the sands as the transport moved back to the safety of the fleet above.

    The ships had landed a safe distance from the scattered Cultists and Orion’s tanks were already taking advantage of their brutal range. The Jetiise were spread about the landing zone as well but even if Kegan’s Mano’ad vode had not been doing everything they could to avoid them their lack of armor and armament would have set them apart. They didn’t seem to mind too much though, one of them even waved their way. He smiled at the warriors hello though he offered no noticeable acknowledgment. The Jetiise mattered a whole lot less than their dar’jetiise brethren, so long as they didn’t get in his way the Dashade could care less about them.

    It appeared that Kegan’s was the first of the Ori’ramikad squads to set down on the empty planet. Korriban was bright, hot and empty. Luckily beskar’gam could help with two out of the three and the desolation only made it that much harder for the bastards to hide. He’d heard others talk of how wrong or strange the planet felt but it seemed the Dashade was deaf to whatever it was they felt.

    It was time to push their advantage in the assault and Kegan began moving forward with a quick command to his men.
    set comlinks to closed frequency, let’s go.

    ((Vode: brothers
    Buy'ce: helmet
    Ori'ramikad: Mandalorian elites
    Mando'ade: Mandalorian (plural)
    Manda'yaim: Mandalore (planet)
    Jetiise: Jedi (plural)
    dar'jetiise: no longer a jedi (dark jedi)
    beskar'gam: Mandalorian armor))


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    Garth Norghar
    Posted: Nov 17 2008, 12:58 AM
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    Maalraas
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    Group: Inactive
    Posts: 110
    Member No.: 375
    Joined: 18-June 08



    Garth was never really completely comfortable in space. He was a decent enough pilot, but when he wasn't the one controlling the ship, he got a little antsy. In fact, he was more nervous about riding in the troop transport than he was about the actual battle ahead. At least he had some control over whether or not he died in battle. The only thing stopping them all from crashing to a fiery demise in the ship was the pilot of the small transport. Garth eyed the pilot warily, half wanting to take over the controls himself if only to give himself the peace of mind. That thought was dashed, however, as the ship began to bump and shake slightly as they entered the turbulent atmosphere. Once Korriban came into view, Garth immediately saw why the Dark Jedi had chosen to make it their home. It was barren, lifeless, perfect for the soulless Cult of Sadow. This battle would be one instance where he didn't mind killing in the least.

    As they drew closer to the ground, Garth turned to the fifteen or so Jedi in the transport with him. They all knew who he was, and they all knew better than to judge him by his size. Despite his only being a Knight, these Jedi treated him like a Master and, while that was a bit unnerving for Garth since he felt he didn't deserve their respect, he knew he would have to accept it if he was going to lead them into the battle. As the Drall looked at each one of the Jedi, he felt small sparks of anxiety shooting off from a few of them. From the rest, though, he felt only anticipation. He, himself, felt neither of those feelings. The only thing he felt was an extreme serenity. His mind was at peace, which may have seemed strange on the eve of such an important battle, but being as old as he was, and having seen as much of the galaxy as he had, Garth had learned to stay calm in almost any situation.

    The other Jedi in the transport seemed to feel his calmness, and one by one they began to follow suit until there was no other feeling in the transport. Garth nodded satisfactorily. Honestly, he didn't really know what to say to his small group of Jedi. He had always thought that those inspirational speeches just kinda came to you when you needed them. Apparently not. Damnit, he knew he should have written up a rough draft of what he was going to say before they left Shedu Maad. And he probably would have if he hadn't been preparing for a battle... He supposed he had had his priorities straight anyway.

    "I know that many of you, like myself, are averse to unnecessary killing. You wouldn't be a Jedi if you weren't. Today, though, that feeling isn't worth poodoo. These Cultists aren't worthy of life, so take back from them what they were so wrongfully given. Kill them all. May the Force be with you."

    As if on cue, the ship landed and the large door opened, becoming a ramp. Garth walked slowly down the ramp and onto the surface of Korriban. He immediately felt the dark energies swirling around them. He closed his eyes for a moment before moving away from the ship and leading his small Jedi group onto the battlefield. And so it begins, he thought.


    --------------------

    Name: Garth Norghar
    Nicknames: Garth
    Gender: Male
    Age: 54
    Species: Drall
    Birthplanet: Drall
    Ship: Catalyst, Porax-38 starfighter

    Faction: Jedi
    Rank: Knight
    Lightsaber Formes: Form I Shii Cho, Form II Makashi, Form III Soresu, Form IV Ataru
    Mastered Lightsaber Forms: Form III Soresu, Form IV Ataru


    Inventory:
    • Jedi Utility Belt
    • Datapad
    • Comlink
    • Holoprojector
    • Lightsaber parts
    • Cortosis

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    Mikkt Rist
    Posted: Nov 17 2008, 01:34 AM
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    Mikkt could honestly say he was for the most part relaxed. While some in the transport fiddled with equipment, or thought about the battle ahead, Mikkt made sure he did anything but think about it. There was nothing, absolutely nothing he could think about about the oncoming battle that he hadn't thought about already, and continuing to do so would just be a waste of time and energy. His eyes were closed and his breathing was deep, and he had been that way for quite some time. While some Jedi seemed to dislike meditation to some extent or another, the Nazzar Jedi was old enough to know that meditation was a good way to center your chaotic mind and flying thoughts, as if all your worries and doubts were a small, tangled ball of feelings and meditation was unraveling the strands and examining each, and then twining them neatly on a spool of thread.

    A weird analogy, but it worked for him. The equine Jedi was in this state for most of the trip, but when the pilot announced they would be breaching Korriban's atmosphere in only nanoseconds, his blue eyes slowly opened to stare at the viewing window up front, ready for his first look at Korriban. His eyes flickered to the lightsaber sitting in his lap, that he had been tracing the lines of for quite some time.

    It was beautiful, it was true, but it was also a weapon of death. Mikkt had meditated long and hard about the right and wrongs of the situation, but now he was committed fully to the eradication of the Cult. After asking a Master or two, and doing his own research in the library, he learned what the ancient Sith were truly capable of. Horrible crimes, twisted theology that would lead to no freedom being left in the universe, and worse. No hope.

    No, Mikkt thought with a sigh, no matter how weak and bumbling the Cult was, it could not be allowed to survive. They could not be allowed to gain power, and they could not allow them to fulfill their ultimate goal. The stronger these Dark Siders grew, so did the power of the Dark Side itself.

    Mikkt had met a Jedi, once, that said that the Force was all about balance. Without the light, there is no shadow, but without the shadow light would be blinding and harmful. Mikkt wasn't sure if he believed that, and wasn't sure he was willing to take the risk to prove that theory. The Jedi had agreed, but still the idea wriggled around in his mind.

    But it wasn't Mikkt's place to think of things such as this. It was up to wiser minds than his own, and if it was something Mikkt knew, it was his place.

    Mikkt let out a sigh of relief that their transport didn't meet with any enemy fire, but it was quickly quashed when Zhen Vo stood up in front of himself, Knight Jensen and Knight Thade. He prayed that the transport would land in the next few seconds, before Zhen Vo got all set to go.

    Unfortunately, the shuttle did not land in time. Sometimes, Mikkt wondered if Master Vo made speeches just to test the younger Jedi's patience, though even Mikkt's was tested at times. There was talk that Zhen Vo made a speech about and on every occasion, and Mikkt had seen it enough to believe it. With great reluctance he slowly relaxed into his seat next to Jensen Endalaust, his ears lying limply against his skull. Almost as an afterthought, the Nazzar sent a brief, whispering mind message to his fellow knight.

    :... I am starting to believe the Force hates us.:

    Not that the speech was all that bad, but more that the other Jedi were already getting off the transports, and they were still in the ship, coming into a angle towards the ground. The pilot did not pilot quite as quickly as he could have, no doubt listening to the Master's speech himself. Not that he was particularly restless or over eager, but the sooner they got out there, the stronger that the Jedi Order would be. And they had no idea what the Cult was truly capable of, now that he thought about it. They were sitting ducks in this ship.

    Finally, they landed. Mikkt resisted the urge to clap sarcastically when Zhen finished the speech, striding off the ramp of the transport and his boots hitting, dry, light earth. He shuddered violently, an arc of dark energy coming up through his heels and through his body. But Mikkt had been on dark planets before. Most not quite as powerful as this, but the Senior Knight was no stranger to the Dark Side.

    He stood a foot behind, and just to the right of Master Zhen Vo, waiting patiently for Orders. Now that they were off the transport and it had flown off, he was starting to feel less concerned and more focused. The sound of artillery fire suddenly thundered to the air, as the Nazzar turned his head to where a quartet of massive, armored tanks were already making their assault on the the Cultists scrambling on the ledge. Mikkt could say this for the Mandalorians, they weren't the types to sit back and watch a battle go on.

    Mikkt hoped that the Force would guide them. He knew that many of them would not survive this day, poor buggers. Not that he would ever say that to their faces. Or helmets, as the case may be. He followed Zhen in the same position, keeping his heart at peace while chaos flowed around them.
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    Jensen Endalaust
    Posted: Nov 19 2008, 02:25 PM
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    Jensen couldn't sit still. If his mind had limbs it would surely have been jumping all over the place. Instead it had borrowed those of his body and proceeded to tap them, bounce them and generally move them around in any unproductive way it could imagine. Being restrained by the landing apparatus was definitely not helping, and only made him move more then when they had boarded. He couldn't deny he was excited, but not by the prospect of killing people. To Jensen there was no qualms with it, but he never took enjoyment in the process. No, the thing that was causing such anticipation was the prospect of being a part of such a monumental bit of history. There was no doubt this would be recorded in the archives for the rest of eternity, to be read about by younglings and padawans alike. Taught in classes and talked about among peers. As ever Jensen was keen to prove himself, and this seemed like the perfect stage to do it on. Being a Guardian Jens was always working with his weaknesses; diplomacy, the Force, flying. Here however, he would be able to show the reason he had completed his trials and become a full fledged Knight. Jensen was well aware there were many in the Order that believed he was not the most effective Jedi, and many that looked down on him for his age. Now he needed to prove them wrong.

    It didn't take a Grandmaster to realise many Knights and Masters were unsure about the attack; the Order had yet to try to negotiate with the Cultists, and there were those that believed this to be an error. No doubt there would be the critics to arise after the completion of the extermination who would use the incident as fuel in a campaign against the Jedi, but in Jensen's mind there was no doubt. The Cultists had chosen their path, they knew where it would be heading and knew that the Jedi would be against them for the entirety of that journey. There motives were undeniably negative, there was no innocence to their determination to seek out the Sith secrets. Just because they had yet to rally themselves did nothing to change Jensen's mind. Destroying them now would be easier then waiting for them to gain power, which would only lead to the dark side affecting the galaxy. Forgiveness wasn't an option. Creatures as evil as these were unworthy of mercy, and too dangerous to give it to. Like any organisation in the galaxy the Jedi had to look after their own interests first, and their first interest was the protection of the galaxy against evil forces. Their methods may be looked down upon, and many might gaze at them with hatred, but that wouldn't change the fact they were going to protect the galaxy, even if the galaxy shunned them for it. Jensen had travelled enough to know the galaxy couldn't look after itself, there were far too many stupid people, and quite a few of them were able to advance to the heads of states. No one else would respond to this threat, so the Jedi would.

    Not many knew about the Sith, the target for this Cult of Sadow, even Jensen knew only that which he was taught in classes as a youngling, and stories passed down by older masters before they set off. The things he'd heard were enough to spark his determination to successfully complete this mission though. The Sith ways could not be rediscovered and practised, even if it meant a full scale war, even if it meant scouring the galaxy for the Cult survivors and killing them one by one. It had become one of the few missions Jensen truly took to heart, and one that he couldn't even dream of failing.

    The transport rocked slightly as they entered Korriban's atmosphere. Thankfully they were not coming under fire, because Jensen did not do well travelling in a vessel coming under fire unless he was behind the controls. Trusting wasn't easy, trusting with his life was damn near impossible. It was taking all his restraint not to go over there and hurry the procedure up considering he could see Zhen musing to himself, obviously preparing some phrase in his head to lead them all into battle with. Jensen had known him since being a youngling, and the motivational talks were not something new. Jens had hoped the time wouldn't come, but alas, here it was. It was time to prepare to cringe or frown with irritation; the two were usually mustered after hearing one of the speeches.

    :... I am starting to believe the Force hates us.:

    He audibly sighed, but didn't turn to the Nazzar -- who he was beginning to actually like -- but continued to follow the lines on the durasteel floor in an attempt to keep his sanity. :No, not even the Force can control this...:

    At least Jensen hoped so; he didn't much fancy going into a battle after discovering the Force was sadistic.

    It was over soon enough though, not soon enough for most, but it was over nonetheless. They had all survived the first fight for their lives. No one had resorted to violence to end their misery, which showed a certain strength of character in Jensen's mind. He raised a clenched fist, muttering a half-hearted, "Huzzar." With the worst over they could now face the Cult.

    Jensen followed behind the other Jedi as they disembarked from the transport and took their first steps on the harsh terrain of Korriban. It was surprising to think people could actually live on such a planet. The dark energies coming from it, although disturbing for Jensen to be around, did not puzzle him at all. It was the sheer lack of anything that truly had him speechless. He wouldn't have believed there was any wildlife on such a meek planet, and couldn't believe anyone would wish to spend any long period of time in such an environment. Jensen had visited his fair share of desolate worlds, as had every Jedi, but this was on a different scale. It resembled an uninhabitable moon more then a planet, but perhaps that suited the Cult all the more.

    A shiver ran up the young Knights spine, but he ignored it and came to a half behind Mikkt, watching the horizon carefully in case a Cultist were to be spotted. Jensen was itching for the action to start; it was much more nerve-racking to be standing waiting for something then in the middle of the commotion, relying on instincts and the Force. All that was needed was the direction from Zhen. The Mandalorians had already entered in the fray; one would have to be deaf to miss the rumble of their cannons, pulsating even through the dry earth. They knew how to put on a show, but Jensen knew the Jedi did too. The pairing was certainly a formidable one; two organisations experts in combat, with the backing of a fleet provided by the Alliance. The Cultists were in an impossible situation. There was no chance of beating the combined allied force by attack, they'd simple have to run. Very appropriate for the dark siders, always hiding themselves and operating in the shadows.
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    Thade Slater
    Posted: Nov 19 2008, 04:44 PM
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    The planet made Tatooine look lively.

    Thade had remained in a deep trance on the flight to Korriban, preparing himself in every way possible for the upcoming battle. He was just on the peek of entering battle mind, though he wouldn’t delve into it until necessary. Slowly he connected thread after thread to the Force, strengthening his place within it. He said nothing to anyone aboard the ships—not Jedi, Mandolorian, nor Alliance.

    Like always, Thadius Slater was silent.

    Anyone not a Jedi would have thought the tall arhan to be asleep, but as the borrowed shuttle neared the planet, Thade’s eyes opened slowly and heavily. He looked at the dead world.

    Terrifying sensations flew into the knight’s mind—it was the dark side of the Force, poisonous and sweet. The feelings were strong. Korriban had a very solid aura, and with Thade’s mind especially open to the Force, he could feel it like a hot iron against his skin.

    Very slowly Thadius rose to his feet. He felt physically ill; leaned against the side of the shuttle for support. His fingers were cold, his mind was buzzing. With all the mental connections made, thoughts from all around him hummed like white noise, including the words of those not on his shuttle. He didn’t pay them any particular attention; his purpose there wasn’t to eavesdrop.

    My people will look after me, and I shall look after my people.

    jare'la Dar'jetiise!

    Damnit, I should have written up a rough draft.


    Thade very slowly weeded out the thoughts of those around him from his own. He didn’t put up his usual block, not wanting to weaken his connection with the Force. When Thade fought, he almost always won without the use of a weapon. However, this war would not be so lucky. Anyone smothered in the dark side would not be coaxed through the mind not to fight.

    It was in these cases that Thade’s telepathy came in handy. Though he was only mastered in one saber technique, his battle precognition was so nearly flawless that he could still be a deadly opponent.

    He had been appointed to serve under Zhen Vo again, and the kaminoan gave a speech after the shuttle broke through Korriban’s atmosphere.

    "I know that many of you, like myself, are averse to unnecessary killing. You wouldn't be a Jedi if you weren't. Today, though, that feeling isn't worth poodoo. These Cultists aren't worthy of life, so take back from them what they were so wrongfully given. Kill them all. May the Force be with you."

    “Show yourselves, scum!”

    Where the hell is my other gun?

    ”Mondi-saba!”

    I am starting to believe the Force hates us.

    “These Cultists aren't worthy of life, so take back from them what they were so wrongfully given. Kill them all.”

    No, not even the Force can control this...


    They landed. Thade put a hand to his stomach. He could sense the Mandolorians before even leaving the shuttle—they radiated with a mix of irritation and enthusiasm.

    The buildings of the Cult of Sadow were already smoking and in ruins, but they weren’t empty. Thade could feel the presence of life, the pulsing of the dark side.

    ~~ "Then we should be better. Have we even tried to make peaceful contact with them? Will we not even try?" ~~

    For a moment Thade looked up into the cloudless Korriban sky. Odd that the words of a padawan would come to him now. Though this fight was his duty and a necessity for the greater good, he felt almost as though he owed her an apology.

    "Let's go," Master Marin spoke from not far off. "If our 'fans' over there beat us to the Cultists, they'll never let us forget it.”

    A few of the Jedi chuckled, but Thade could find no humor in her words. His hand clutched the handle of his modified WESTAR 34. Saber strapped securely to the back of his belt, he followed Master Vo towards the battle site.
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    Lysander Odakota
    Posted: Nov 19 2008, 10:45 PM
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    Ensign Chekov
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    Posts: 725
    Member No.: 226
    Joined: 25-March 08



    The time was finally here. After some time of baying on his leash like some over eager kath hound, Lysander Odakota finally found himself descending on the planet he was actually disturbingly eager to eliminate the inhabitants of. The moment that Shay had informed him that the Cult existed and the Order intended to eliminate it, he had found himself bitterly eager for the fight. This reaction was not a sound one for a Jedi, and he knew it. He was taking this situation personally, and if there was anything that boded unwell, it was a Jedi who was taking something personally.

    His reasons for taking it personally weren’t widely known. Those who were on the Council and those were had wider access to the Jedi Archives and his personal files therein were the only ones who might have some idea. Shay knew perfectly well, and she was the only one who could have no doubt as to why her little brother’s eyes burned with a tightly controlled hatred every time the Cult was so much as mentioned.

    The Darkside just touched too close to the heart for this Guardian, and he couldn’t allow it to exist when he was in a position to be eliminating it.

    Mercifully, he was a good Jedi in all respects, and despite his unnerving desire to get down there and destroy, he was keeping that part of him carefully under control. He knew full well that killing for the sake of killing was no path for a Jedi. They were here to eliminate a threat to the galaxy, nothing more. A preemptive strike, as study of the archives and the Sith had revealed to be the best course of action against those who would subvert and darken the Force and use it to their own ends. They were not his personal enemies and in no way should he treat them like that.

    But as a Guardian, Lysander had no issues whatsoever with bypassing diplomacy and moving straight into front-line fighting.

    Mentally he brushed against Shay, to steady himself further as well as assure her that he wasn’t losing it on his end of things. He couldn’t afford to have her worrying about him whatsoever while they were down there. Distractions like that lead to mistakes, and while he knew Shay wasn’t one for idle mistakes, there was no doubt that if anything here would catch her off guard, it would be anything happening to him. Not to be vain or anything, but he knew that if anything were to happen to her, he would have suffered for it, despite his resolve in duty. They were similar in that respect.

    The shuttle touched down and soon the Knight’s feet were also on the dusty surface of Korriban. The place reeked of a sensation that Lysander did not care for one bit. He closed his eyes for the briefest moment before he was removing his ‘saber from his belt. The Jedi Battle Armor he wore didn’t hinder him at all, but it was a different feel from his usual garb. He tapped his hilt against the arm guards thoughtfully for a moment as he surveyed the scene.

    He paid the Mandalorians little mind. If he’d been in a better mood, he might have shot them an ironic smile and wave much as his sister had, but as it was, his blue eyes merely passed over them and their armor.

    The other Jedi he paid more mind, noting each of their names as he knew them. The Guardians he paid special mind to. Their numbers were fewer in this time where the Jedi had not been in open conflict for some time. But in a fight like this, they were going to have to be the heavy hitters, and live up to their stations as Jedi. He frowned, wishing them all the strongest sense of Force today.

    He felt the mental ‘ping’ from Shay and knew she was on the move. He’d keep a tab on her, as he knew she’d keep one on him. He also noted the position of the other council members as well. But then he was moving off on his own, not following anyone and not expecting anyone to follow him. Today, he aimed to work alone.


    --------------------
    user posted image

    Name: Lysander Odakota
    Nicknames: Lys, Ly-ly, Dakota
    Aliases: Gunnar Trell, Ryder Klivian
    Gender: Male
    Age: 37
    Species: Human
    Birthplanet: Onderon
    Ships: Intrepid Force, Aurek Tactical Strikefighter
    Forerunner, Miy'til Starfighter
    Redeemer, Eta-2 Actis Class Light Interceptor (Syluire-45 hyperspace docking ring)

    Faction: Jedi
    Rank: Jedi Master
    Lightsaber forms:
    • Ataru (master)
    • Shii-cho (master)
    • Soresu (master)
    • Makashi (moderate)
    • Shien (moderate)

    Inventory:
    • Cyan Lightsaber (sigil crystal, lorrdian gemstone)
    • Ice Blue Lightsaber (Permafrost and Eralam Crystal)
    • Mephite Crystal
    • R9-series astromech, Dimmer
    • Vibro-knife
    • DH-23 Blaster pistol
    • Datapad
    • Comlink
    • Handheld Homing Beacon
    • Imagecaster
    • Jedi Beacon Transceiver
    • Basic fighter repair kit
    • Jedi Knight Robe
    • Jedi Battle Armor
    • Glowrod
    • Jedi Utility Belt
    • ^A99 Aquata Breather
    • ^Gauntlet Holo-projector
    • ^Antidotes for various poisons
    • ^8-2A medical bundle
    • ^Fastflesh Medpac
    • Basic Survival Pack
    • ^Durashelter
    • ^Thermal Cape
    • ^Water JugFilter
    • ^Condenser Unit
    • ^Ration cubes (2 weeks)
    • ^Survival Knife
    • ^Flint and steel
    • ^Rope (50 feet)
    • Quetarra
    PMEmail PosterAIMMSN
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    Tristanian Pax
    Posted: Nov 20 2008, 08:41 AM
    Quote Post


    Unregistered









    Tristanian had always been an optimist when it came to being a pessimist, but as he emerged from his nap somehow he just knew Fate had once more exceeded his most cynical musings. The sudden appearance of a mass of sentient being in the direct vicinity of Korriban couldn’t help but cause a massive ripple in the Force – and while some of the less experienced Cultists only felt a vague sense of impending doom wash over them, an assassin as skilled as Tristan could clearly feel the influx of newcomers. Sighing melodramatically, he idly wondered if he could still catch a bit of sleep before violent and sudden death was visited upon the Cult. Probably not - war was inconvenient like that.

    Deciding that half an hour of blessed rest wasn’t worth the risk of being captured because he wasn’t conscious for the actual battle, the Champion summoned his lightsaber to his hand with an indifferent flick of his wrist. He was rarely on Korriban for more than a few days, so he’d never taken time to properly decorate or furnish the room like others of his rank had. His vibroknife was still strapped to his arm – some people called him paranoid, but Tristanian believed that such a trait was required for survival amongst the Cult’s numbers. Living was a constant struggle here, and the weak were ripped apart by the savage dogs that composed the lower ranks – while killings between members that had proved themselves and reached ranks of Aspirants were discouraged, murder was one of the quickest ways to catch a Master’s attention for the Cultists and Hopefuls. Clearing his thoughts with an irritated shake of his head, the assassin put on the remaining parts of his equipment – the black shoulder-less light armour, Defender Sporting Blaster and the belt of CryoBan grenades he’d taken to carrying around.

    Schooling his features into the bland disinterest that was his trademark – not that he had to try very hard: the old detachment and ennui that was only stalled by sarcasm and his questionable sense of humour still remained just under skin, ready to emerge at any moment – the Dolomarian walked out of his room as the first hits of the orbital bombardment started to shake the installations. Deep inside the ground as he was, he doubted there was anything to worry about but he wasn’t going to stick around for the ground assault if he could help it. By the time he’d emerged from the underground tunnels, however, the area surrounding the main complex had turned into a battlefield. How distasteful – it seemed he would have to make a few victims if he was to reach the hangars.

    The mass of Hopefuls and Cultists seemed little more than a panicking mob, running in terror under the fire of the artistically arranged Mandalorian tanks. That particular instalment earned a raised eyebrow on his part: he’d expected the Jedi or the Confederation, but Mandalorians? Whatever had happened to killing all Force users equally? Besides, there was no trace of Confederation troops – surprising, he’d thought that if anyone would attack them it would by the government, especially since that imbecile had killed politicians on Coruscant. Not that he objected to killing politicians per se – their particular brand of evil made the Cult look like saints – but it was rather obvious that killing the Dolomarian’s puppets would earn the Cult their ire. The Champions, Aspirants and the few lower-ranked members that had regained the little hold over themselves they held had started to engage the Jedi, realizing that when engaged in melee combat with the allies of the artillery-users they could not be fired on from afar.

    Sticking out like a sore thumb amongst his panicked fellow Cultists, Tristanian calmly made his way towards the path that would lead to the hangars, sparing the battle no more than a mildly interested glance. The skill-level between the Jedi and Cultists combined with the support they received had already determined the result of this confrontation – it was pointless to linger around and witness the inevitable defeat of his associates. A flicker of irritation flitted into his dark eyes when he felt presences approaching in the opposite direction: it seemed some Jedi had landed between him and the hangars. Noticing from the corner of his eye that a handful of Aspirants seemed to have followed him – he inwardly revised his opinion of the general intellect of the Cult as slightly higher – he slowed his step in order for them to catch up to him just before he encountered the Jedi. Even if below his own strength, additional numbers would be most welcome in the skirmish to come.

    Finally coming to view the warriors that would be his opponents today, he stopped in front of them and eyed them disinterestedly in a way that visibly unnerved a few of them. A second later the Aspirants reached him, their blades already ignited. The Champion let silence reign for a moment, his consciousness sharpening into the unflappable calm and ever-present wry amusement that was characteristic of Venalis. Finally he broke the silence in a bored tone, giving out instructions to his allies without even glancing at them.

    “Spread out and pick your opponent, make room for everyone to be comfortable. Don’t separate yourself too much from the melee or you will draw artillery fire. Do not underestimate them - they have been trained with the blade far longer than any of you and mercy is not a courtesy that is extended to our kind.”

    The Cultist’s eyes fell on an older man with greying hair and a presence in the Force that was the match of any Triumvir. How lovely: it seemed they’d inherited a Council member. This was going to be one of those days, wasn’t it? Tristanian’s lightsaber ignited in a flash of silver flame as he slid into a flawless Makashi stance. He met eyes with the Council member but his next words were addressed to the company as a whole.

    “Shall we get to it then, Jedi?”

    ((Kossie, your choice on wether we continue here for a while or go straight to a duel thread.))
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