The watched him stalk off into the desert. Jacob started after him, but was stayed by Obi-Wan's hand. The Jedi Master sighed, turned to his new band of refugees, and said, "Well, let's get moving. We don't want to be here when the palace recovers."
They piled into Obi-Wan's borrowed landspeeder, and zipped off into the rising suns.
Post by SilvanoshiS on Aug 31, 2005 23:19:07 GMT -5
"Master Kenobi, why didn't my lightsaber work? You watched me finish it, and nothing was wrong, I even wielded it. Why did it explode when he touched it?" The lightsaber fiasco still fresh on his mind, he tried to work his mind around it.
"Your lightsabers are special, very tempermental, you made that one with you in mind did you not?" asked Obi Wan.
"Well, yes, I had planned on being the primary user, but a lightsaber is just a tool, like a gun. anyone should be able to use it," Jacob wasn't making any sense of what Kenobi was saying.
"I'm not so sure, hand me the one you used on that Riz fellow just now," Jacob handed it to Obi Wan and he proceded to look it over. "Interesting," he said after a moment's pause, "I do believe that if I tried to use this it would explode as well. Your lightsabers appear to draw force energy from a specific wielder, and if that is not found it will backfire as a safeguard against misuse."
"What are you talking about? Anu could use these just as well as I could. There's no logic behind your theory," Jacob retorted.
"There is, everything you do, you think of your sister. Anything you can do, so can she. It is a symbiotic relationship between blood-relative force users who share a deep bond."
"Ok, if you say so," Jacob was too tired to argue, "Oh, Master Kenobi, I almost forgot. How is Anu? Can you get me in touch with her master?"
"Why not ask him yourself?" Obi Wan gestured to the other, silent rider in the speeder.
You can have all you ever wanted... I know, but I don't want it. No, I can't want it anymore.
Post by Christopher on Sept 3, 2005 21:14:59 GMT -5
Despite the high heat and long walk ahead, Riz continued to walk along the dirt road, beads of sweat covering his face. He moaned at the thought that he had at least two more days of this ahead of him, and certainly did not look forward to it.
Suddenly, Riz perked up, when he heard the distant distant whirring of an engine. The lone human turned in the direction he heard the noise, shielded his eyes from the sun, and saw a speeder. The speeder was a fair distance away, appear as a speck on the horizon.
Was it the jedi? No, it coudldn't be; Riz saw them drive off in another direction. It was just his mind playing tricks on him. Satisfied that was all it was, Riz went back to trekking down the dirt road. The speeder's engine continued to get louder as it got closer.
'It's only a trick...it's only a trick' Riz thought to himself
The engine grew louder still
'it's only a trick...it's only a-'
Riz's thoughs were cut off, by a loud thump, and the rogue was thrown off his feet, rolled across the speeder, and dropped onto the dirt road.
'****...it wasn't a mirage...' Riz was lucky enough to think to himself
A voice from the speeder, which had stopped upon running the figure over, could be heard.
"****...it wasn't a mirage..."
A figure lept out of the land speeder, to see if the human was dead. Riz could only see the figure as a shadow, thanks to the sun's posisition. Riz grunted, and roze to his feet.
"WHAT THE **** IS WRONG WITH YOU!!! Didn't you see me walking?! There's a whole planet of dust for you to move and avoid me, you ***!"
The driver of the landspeeder was shocked to see the human simply get up, and shrug off getting hit by a speeder, and even more shocked to see that he knew the human.
Riz stopped yelling and throwing curses at the driver.
Come, all ye sons of freedom, and join our Southern band, We are going to fight the Yankees and drive them from our land. Justice is our motto and providence our guide, So jump into the wagon, and we'll all take a ride.
Jacob's eyes grew wide, and he spun around to see Iric sitting in the rear of the speeder, quietly looking out of the speeder's window.
Jacob launched himself over the chair and into the back seat, where he landed beside a surprised Jedi master. His words spilled from his heart. "Anu? You were Anu's master? Where is she? How is she? She was my sister! How is she?"
Iric's face slowly softened, and he quickly turned to look out the window again. Softly, Jacob heard him say, "Oh, why do You make these things come to pass? But what You will shall be."
"Please," Jacob said, "tell me, how is she?"
"She was the sweetest child I'd ever known. Gentle, compassionate, beautiful...and powerful...deep inside her was such great power for so small and delicate a frame..."
Jacob watched as Iric wiped a tear from his cheek.
((OOC: Yeah, Luke did call Palpatine “Highness,” though that was wrong of him to do so.))
Dantooine was a backwaters planet. Away from major shipping lanes, it was fairly isolated. The might of the Empire, and the Republic before it, barely touched this part of space. Thus, the system was left largely to the disempowered, criminal elements and the occasionally transient. Far from the center of the galaxy, the Outer Rim skies were dark. Only the distant disk of the center of the galaxy dominated the night along with a smattering of loose stars.
The tranquil space over Dantooine rippled. The stars roiled as flickers of pseudomotion blurred the stars. Thousands of starships poured from hyperspace. At full thrust, they rocketed towards orbit over Dantooine.
Fleet Admiral Zork stood on the bridge of the Berserker. The fleet had made a safe and textbook jump from a system 200 light years away. There, his flagship had met up with the rest of the fleet elements. It was also there where he picked up a new passenger. An office within the bridge tower had been converted into the new guest’s meditation chamber. Heavy equipment had been installed for his needs.
A hush swept through the back of the bridge. Zork knew who had just arrived. It was a response that he elicited everywhere he went. Darth Vader’s boots thumped the metal deck plates as he walked up towards the primary view screen. Though Zork didn’t turn around, he knew that crewmembers were either turning their heads in fear, or they were sneaking looks at the imposing figure.
By now, the hollow mechanical breathing was audible. The rustling of Vader’s robes and cape indicated he came up next to Zork. A deep synthesized voice boomed from Vader’s vocoder.
“What is the fleet’s disposition, Admiral Zork?”
Zork consciously turned his head to look at Vader. He had to crane his head to meet Vader’s skull-like visage. “My Lord, the fleet has exited hyperspace and is now spreading out in geosynchronous orbit over Dantooine. We are setting up a blockade ring around the planet. Once in place, we will be able to interdict any spacecraft attempting to leave the planet. Our orbital positions will allow clear shots to the poles of the planet as well. Fighter screens will escort the landing ships and conduct combat air patrols to establish air superiority. Nobody is leaving. I have also ordered picket squadrons to establish skirmish areas outside of the blockade ring to prevent any ships from entering the system and interfering with planet-side operations. The fleet should be in place within a few minutes. Your generals and commanders should be able to start their landings soon after.”
“Well done, Admiral. Notify the assault force once the fleet is in place.” Vader turned and walked back towards the turbolifts at the rear. On his way there, he passed by Captain Astarta, who made way for the giant enforcer. She continued on her way to the front of the bridge as soon as the turbolift doors shut, taking its passenger away. The crew seemed to relax, as though a shadow had come and gone.
Astarta smirked. “Well, it’s not everyday that you see someone like that.”
“Indeed,” Zork replied. “I feel so special for such attention from the Emperor.”
Astarta snorted. “Sure you do. By the way, you look good in gray.”
Zork mumbled. The olive gray uniform was identical to the uniform of the Republic Starfleet. However, he did miss the deep blue color. It was more vibrant than this cold color he was now wearing. He supposed that all things had to pass. Including the Jedi Order, which was on its last legs here at Dantooine. There was no doubt as to what the fleet and the clone armies were to do. They were here to exterminate the last remnants of the Jedi Order. Zork supposed that the Hero Anakin Skywalker was too busy aiding the Emperor to come and dispatch the traitor Jedi himself. Instead, there was a hulking monstrosity walking around on his flagship. Zork didn’t know what Vader’s role was in all of this. Was he here to keep an eye on the operations? Would he lead the armies himself? Was he simply a politico sent by the Emperor to observe the fleet? Perhaps even Zork himself.
He was increasingly uncomfortable with the new changes being implemented in the former Republic. He had heard of student movements popping up across institutions of higher education in the Core sectors that were extolling the virtues of Palpatine’s regime. Some were harmless and genuinely eager for order. Others were a little more zealous. There were rumors that these student organizations were getting financial aid from the Empire. Of course, none of that was provable. It’s probably false.
The communications officer called out from his station. “Admiral, all fleet elements reporting in that they are in position.”
Zork replied, “Good. Send word to the assault forces. Inform them that they may start the invasion when they are ready.”
As the communications officer relayed the information, Zork looked out at the fleet. A staggered wall of ships stretched as far as the eye could see. Several kilometers of space stood between each ship. However, the ships were large enough to be seen with the naked eye. All of their dagger-shaped prows were pointed at the planet. Their guns were trained forward, ready to blast anything that rose up from the planet. Even now, the landing forces were set within hundreds of Acclamator-class assault ships, each carrying thousands of clone troopers and their equipment. There would also be Venator-class Star Destroyers landing on the planet as well, providing heavy fire support and carrying additional vehicles.
Zork would rather have turned the surface of Dantooine into slag. Massive orbital bombardment would do the job nicely. However, the Empire can't identify its dead enemies when they've been converted into vapor. There would have to be troops on the ground. The bodies of the fallen Jedi would have to be identified and crossed off the list of the surviving Jedi roster. Zork thought it was a bit overkill to deploy this fleet and whole armies just to get a few Jedi. Of course, he had seen that it was unwise to underestimate Jedi. The CIS had learned that lesson many times over. Zork hoped the Empire learned that lesson as well.
Post by SilvanoshiS on Sept 7, 2005 22:16:00 GMT -5
Jacob collapsed as a rush of dispair swept over him. "She... She's d-dead?" The words barely escaped from his trembling lips as he broke into soft sobs.
"Yes, she is," Iric fought back the tears that the Jedi shouldn't be shedding, but it was becomming increasingly difficult for him while he watched a hardened killer weep openly.
"Who? Who did it, and how?" demanded Jacob. His emotion was gone, replaced by a steel gaze that startled Iric.
"It was a shot to the back of the head at point blank range from a Clone Commander," Iric had regained his composure as well by this point. "It was all so sudden that there was nothing that could be done, no one expected a thing."
"I never did like those things, now I have a reason to kill them," Jacob smiled a twisted smile, "but I'm not going to hunt them, there's no money in killing them."
A wise decision, even if the reasoning is slightly flawed. I'm glad," Obi Wan said.
You can have all you ever wanted... I know, but I don't want it. No, I can't want it anymore.
"We've got the jump on them, Lord Vader," a chipper young Officer chirped, all too enthusiastically.
Vader did not even grace the officer with a look in his direction. "No," his voice rumbled, "they are Jedi. They have known for some time we were coming."
* * * "GET..." the Bimmisari groaned, blinking beads of sweat from his eye, "...OUT!" But the youngling would not go. Orbital bombardment had weakened the base, had collapsed the cieling. Now, hands over heads, two Jedi, a Bimmisari and a Human, levitated what rubble they could as they got the others out of the room. The transports were being loaded. Younglings first. Anyone who could wield a lightsaber was armed and ready.
But this youngling wouldn't go. A young Chalactan with a lot of spunk. "I want to help!" he cried.
But the Bimmisari wouldn't have it. "GO!" he yelled, "Get on a transport and go!"
"I want to fight!"
Another explosion rocked the base, and more rubble fell. The child looked up in terror, but a blow to his side sent him flying against the far wall, saving him. Not so for the Bimmisari Jedi: the effort it took to push the child away with the Force broke his concentration enough to cause him to lose his grip on the rubble. No longer supported by a Force barrier, they fell, crushing the Jedi to death. The Human yelled, taking over for the one now dead: "Go, youngling! That's an order!" And the Chalactan child, eyes wide with shock, left the room. The Jedi maintained his barrier as he made his way to the door, debris fleeing from his path before him and falling to the ground with great crashes behind him. He stumbled through the doorway as another impact rocked the building in which he stood. He could hear yelling and struggling, but could not smell ozone. Good. That meant no one had yet ignited a lightsaber. Ground forces hadn't landed. There was still time to shore up ground defenses. Still time to dig in. They had known something would happen, but had not been sure what.
The Jedi ran through the hallways, saw sunlight filtering through a hole in the cieling. Looking up, he saw Star Destroyers in the sky, and black specks surrounding them. Fighters wouldn't be visible from that distance. Landers. Walker barges.
He turned at the sound of his name. It was Master Sintari, a Falleen female healer. She crouched over another Jedi, soothing his mind with the Force. He'd taken shrapnel to the chest. She slowed his bleeding and soothed his mind. She spoke to Halagad softly, distractedly, focusing intently on the plight of the old man in her arms, who foamed at the mouth, red froth dripping from his chin.
"How go the evacuations?"
"As well as can be expected," Halagad answered gloomily.
"This is not the first time the forces of darkness have stormed the enclave on Dantooine." The old man in her arms groaned unintelligably as she spoke these words.
"Perhaps it will not be the last," and with that, Halagad jumped up, rushing outside to take up his post. Ninety Jedi. Of the thousands spread across the galaxy, here were ninety survivors of that black day, gathered here to fight.
But this was not all of them.
It was this thought that had gave Halagad Ventor hope. Ninety Jedi were here on Dantooine, along with younglings and a few scattered padawans. But there were at least thirty more he knew of, alive and about in the galaxy, hiding, their locations unknown to anyone.
Anyone but Master Ventor, that is.
Once this battle was over, once he was able to leave the planet, he would find those Jedi, and with those survivors he would seek to overthrow the Emperor and restore the galaxy to the way it was.
But first was this battle. Halagad felt the air on his face as the door slid open before him. Jedi stood on rooftops, in alleyways, hid behind doorjambs. The glint of lightsaber hilts could be soon in the light of the noon sun. In the distance, Halagad could see the landers descending. A pulse in the Force from a Jedi standing on a rooftop on the edge of the village, armed as he was with binoculars, told all the Jedi that the first lander had made groundfall. A few snap-hisses could be heard, faint hums that echoed through the empty buildings, but mostly the Jedi kept their weapons deactivated. No need to waste the powercells. This would be a long fight.
Last Edit: Sept 8, 2005 12:03:23 GMT -5 by Stouthorn
((Quick Synopsis: The plot begins during the events of Episode III. Iric is a Jedi serving with his Padawan over Kuat, a planet dedicated to the production of Republic vessels. Order 66 is given, Iric's padawan is killed, and Iric escapes, brushing the Dark Side. Returning to Coruscant, following the beacon, he finds it is a trap. With the help of two Force sensitives (one with a ship) he escapes to Tatooine. On Tatooine, Jacob sells Riz and Iric out to the Hutts. The two escape. Jacob atones by finding his old friend Obi-Wan Kenobi, and they are rescued. Jacob learns that his sister was Iric's padawan.
Vader is constructed. The Death Star is being built.
Mephisto Zork is an Admiral in the Republic Military. He has some reservations about the new government, but remains loyal. After a short stay on his homeworld, he has been ordered to escort Vader and his troops to Dantooine, where they will attack a Jedi stronghold.))
Torrential rains pounded the towering spirals of Coruscant. Sheets of rain blurred the cityscape and clouded the thousands of pinpoints of lights that lit up the city-planet. The thunder and incessant pounding of the rainstorm drowned out most of the sounds of the city. The heavy drumming of falling water beat a monotonous rhythm.
A figure wrapped in a hooded cloak darted between the alleyways. He stopped occasionally under outcroppings and small stoops, trying to get his bearings amid the clamor of the storm. His footsteps splashed in centimeters-deep rivers of water flowing off the buildings and streets. The flash of a blue and yellow neon sign caught the figure’s attention. It was the meeting point he had established with his contact. He sprinted to the entryway of the bar where he was to meet the mysterious person who sent an open cryptic message to the Senator’s aide. He knocked on the durasteel door. A hatch slid aside from door from which three pairs of eyes peered down upon him. Before he could say anything, the security guard mumbled something in his native language and shut the hatch. The hiss of pneumatics accompanied the opening of the door.
As it slid aside, it revealed a dimly lit and smoky interior room. The bar was seedy. No Senator’s aide would normally come here. Not unless he wanted some place where the press and journalists wouldn’t hound him and poke around his business. Not to mention agents of the new Imperial government. The aide walked deeper into the room. Recessed tables lined the walls of the bar. The floor of the bar had a multitude of gambling machines that had brightly lit facades and chirped occasionally.
The aide moved toward an unoccupied table and sat down. He looked around, to see if anyone recognized him. He craned his neck and looked over his shoulder.
The aide’s head whipped back to face forward. A man sat down on the seat across from him. The man wore a floppy hat and an oilskin great coat. The man continued, “You look too obvious. You need to look like you’re minding your own business. You stick out, looking like someone who has never been in a place like this before.”
Before the aide could reply, the man spoke again. “Your … employer has needs and desires that I may be able to help satisfy.”
“I don’t know what you’re talking about,” the aide replied.
“Your boss has found himself in a situation not to his liking. I am referring to the new climate of business, shall we say, that has established itself in the former Republic. One that compromises your employer’s ability to conduct his own business.”
The stranger rolled his eyes. “I refer to the new order of things. One that has been set up by the new Emperor. I am very aware of your employer’s profession. It is in direct competition with that of the dominant organs of power currently in play. Do you understand?”
“Yes. What can you do for my… ah… employer? What do you offer?”
“I offer a chance to network with like-minded interests. Together, you can stave off the intrusions of the current trend of monopolization of your employer’s particular industry. Surely, you recognize a chance to form the ability to resist the actions of the powerful. Your employer, along with a growing cadre of similarly-situated associates and colleagues, can counteract the growing monopoly with far more influence than just by yourselves. Do you agree in principle?”
The aide hesitated. “Yes, I suppose. Who do you work for?”
“You want me to start naming names? Here?”
“Well, I suppose not.”
“All I am asking is that you convey this message to your employer and have him consider what I have told you. The traditional ways of doing business is rapidly becoming obsolete. Openness is being squelched. Those of us who wish to continue to do business and contribute to the well-being of Galactic civilization must band together and form a united front through any means possible against the system that is currently establishing itself. That is all I can say right now. I will contact you again in two weeks. I will want an answer by then.”
Without letting the aide reply, the stranger brusquely got up and left the bar. The aide’s mouth was dry. Maybe he’d stay and have a drink or two before he took this information back.
Outside, the stranger got into a speeder that had pulled up to the backdoor of the bar. The speeder zoomed off into the sky, where it joined the skyways. The passenger put the speeder on autopilot and turned to the stranger.
“So Hastur, do you think he fell for it?”
Agent Zork pulled the floppy hat off his head. “I don’t know,” he sighed. “If he does, then the sting operation has succeeded in the first test stage and has delivered a traitorous rebel into the hands of the Empire. In any case, it doesn’t matter. Even if the Senator doesn’t buy into the offer, we’ve already set a precedent of having Imperial Intelligence agents approaching Senators - hell, anyone who might be prone to rebellion and sedition - and falsely offering membership into a rebel cell. After a few very public arrests, people will start to understand what we’re doing. When the time a real rebel agent approaches them, they’ll be less inclined to take the offer as long as they think there’s a chance it’s a trap. They’ll be so paranoid, they’ll be of no use to any real rebellion.”
“Quite devious, if I may say so myself.”
"It is folly for a man to pray to the gods for that which he has the power to obtain by himself.” – Epicurus
"Every heart sings a song, incomplete, until another heart whispers back. Those who wish to sing always find a song. At the touch of a lover, everyone becomes a poet." - Plato