Droid chatter, loud bangs, tools being used in relentless fashion, the familiar sounds of the Sacred Heap spilled into the dense foliage surrounding Gui's emporium. The shop itself was tucked away, off the beaten trail, not because Gui didn't enjoy the company of others. It was others who didn't appreciate the artistic noise that Gui was known for. Yet, even as the racket intensified, the Odan-Urr Rollmaster wasn't the one making it. 

His black dreads flicked in the embrace of Kiast's soothing breeze as it cooled his sweaty skin and while it was pleasant, it wasn't the cause of the smirk creasing his lips. He tapped his cybernetic fingertips against the metal chair he manufactured out of spare parts as contemplation stirred his indecisiveness. 

Lingering thoughts washed over his mind ever since Aura announced her retirement. The holo-recording he received wrenched his stomach, still, he knew the time had come. Revak, with Turel at his side, would carry Odan-Urr with more tradition than Gui cared for, but their passion was admirable. Without his voice of reason, he wondered where he fit anymore. Who would he go to with his problems, who could he confide in, or would he be called to lead the Clan someday, an Order with his own set of morals and traditions? 'Now THAT's a thought.' he chuckled as he twisted a rusted hydrospanner in his organic but gloved hand. 

"I'll never forget you Aura," he spoke softly, peeling the glove from his hand. Rarely did he allow his skin to investigate objects. Items contained too many memories, some good, others bad. The hydrospanner, a gift from his Consul, was filled with her memory. The memory of when they first met. 

"Look how young I was then.." Gui spoke once more, guiding his fingers over the metallic surface as his mind opened up, unlocking the contents inside. 

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

"Patience, kid!" Aura's brow was furrowed as her eyes assessed a young Kiffar slumped over in deep thought. "What I'm asking of you is to learn patience." 

"What would I do with younglings?" the Kiffar grumbled. "I can't teach, if you remember, it wasn't that long ago I was being taught myself!" 

"We have lost much Gui, perhaps you, more than others. New Tython was the only home you'd ever known and in the blink of an eye, it was taken from you. But you never gave in. Those younglings you rescued when you fled to Nar Shaddaa are alive today because of you. They continued their training, because of you. They are Padawans now," Aura poked him in the chest, "because of you, Gui."

"I can't fix this.." tears began to fill the newly Knighted Kiffar's eyes. "I can't fix any of this." 

Aura reached to her back and pulled a hydrospanner from her belt before sitting down next to him. 

"Do you see this?" the boy looked at the tool and nodded. It was a rusted piece of junk that had seen better days. "Could you still use this?" 

Gui nod his head. 

"But it's older and worn out. It's rusted and battered."

"So?" Gui sniffled, "It still works the same. It's function isn't compromised because of its outward appearance." 

The Zeltron's eyes sparkled like blue crystals. "Exactly." she added a soft smile. 

"You still have a purpose, Gui. Even though you feel rundown and broken, know that you are more valuable to me, to this Clan, than how you appear on the surface." 

Gui wiped the tears from his eyes and latched onto Aurora with a hug. 

"You're going to be a better Jedi than any of us someday, kid. Trust in this," she poked him in the head, "this," she touched his heart, "and the Force. It will never forsake you, Gui. Your instincts have carried you through some rough times, it has kept you sharp, kept yourself alive, and has kept them alive." She pointed to the Padawans training in the Praxeum courtyard. 

Gui smiled, with a newfound confidence. His eyes shifted to the younglings and he could feel their life-force. Each one was like a conduit attached to an advanced circuit-board. Together they became one.

"But what if I fail?"

"You will," Aura smirked, "But you will also succeed. That I am sure of."

"When do you want me to start?"

"You already have." Aura grinned. 

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

"Quiet, Barry!" Gui shouted and slammed his metal hand into the wall. 

Sharp whistles rattled off from the door as the little PIT droid burst outside with a blowtorch in one hand and a pair of goggles it didn't even need draped crookedly over its head. 

"Sorry, bud. I just need time to think," he slipped his glove back onto his hand. "Thank you for everything Aura, I love you." he thought to himself, hoping she knew that. 

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

The Zeltron stopped in the middle of her training with Revak and looked to the dense foliage below the Council tower. A smile crossed her face and she immediately stopped.

"I know." she whispered to herself. 

"What was that?" Revak queried, taking in deep breaths. 

"It's nothing, Revs, was just thinking of an old friend." 

 

Tisto

Haiku

Desired

The desired one

Mysterious to the closed

Minds must be open

To unlock contents

Hidden deep within the stone

Listen to the dreams

The Old Tongue
Format - Free Verse

DESCRIPTION

A code cylinder of ancient design. Carved out of bone. This archaic piece has an assortment of ancient sith words carved into it and is still tinted with an ink that may very well be blood. The handles are black in coloration and red pieces of fabric, giving way to age, adorn them. The roller itself is hand-carved and the words appear to be randomly placed. However, upon proper alignment through Force divination and when the cylinder is saturated and then rolled onto a parchment, the words are ordered into what can best be described as a prophetic vision of a future plague snuffed out by a 'Maverick'.

When the stars align
A man bearing a sign
Of war and endless blight

Shall enter our world
Shaking our core
Like the quakes of mysteries might

Death shall come in the night..

Eyes are focused
A mouth consumes like the locust
Devouring the Force with a bite

He comes like wrath
Spilling blood for a bath
To wash the Force from his sight

Visions of seven
Crippling the brethren
Of guilds made of metal and bone

Darkness ascending
This tale is unending
A Maverick sits on an iron throne

(4224) Gui Sol

A black mane with streaks of grey was tidily combed back and an Officer uniform was worn with straight seams and polished buttons. The man known as Howlader was the image of perfection and refinement until a yawn severed his focus.

"Do I bore you Sergeant?" His superior spoke with grit and discontent. "Perhaps you'll wake up in the mines of Kessel?"

The Sergeant merely shrugged his shoulders and stared blankly. "Nah, probably not."

For a long time he felt special and placed himself on a pedestal. Something stirred within, his reflexes, despite his burdening fatigue, were sharp.

"What did you say to me?"

"Sorry, I meant to say, probably not. Sir?" He grinned as his yawn faded. He had little respect for the man barking orders. For his 'superior' was merely a pawn without any combat experience. He was a wet noodle, a green-horn with good academic scores.

"If it wasn't for your piloting skills and sharp dress, you'd be out of here!" He knew that Howlader was held in high regard and viewed as an asset. In essence, he was becoming untouchable.

"What about now?" Howlader smirked, dropped his pants and tussled his hair. "Pants don't make the man, nor does ass kissing your way into leadership roles. A role you're currently just playing at."

The men in line shifted their attention to their comrade and their jaws dropped.

"Maybe I'll take that position from you, sir." He added, delivering a sarcastic salute that caused his superior's blood to boil.

Even as starships departed their designated pads and the world around them proceeded without a flicker, the world of the ranking Officer slowed to a crawl as he forced the lump in his throat down with a gulp.

"Stand down, Sergeant!"

"Stand up, Commander. Be a man!" Shouted the pantsless one. "Were at war and you want to run drills from that brand new datapad of yours?!"

"I, I-"

"I'll fight this whole war, as I stand." Howlader yawned again. "But you have to give me those bars." He growled, jabbing the Commander in the chest with his index finger.

"How dare y-"

"Eh, shut up." Howlader continued as the men surrounding him became riled with rebellion and flocked to the man they wanted to fly with, fight with, die with.

Shouts and jeering filled the courtyard as the men grabbed the Commander and forced him to his knees.

"This is my armada now." Spoke Howlader as that familiar energy lifted his soul with torrents of energy.

With two fingers, Howlader plucked the bars from the sniveling Commander's breast coat and pinned it to his own disheveled uniform.

"Send him to Kessel." Howlader sneered and threw his arms into the air. "To war!"

"But sir, your pants." One of the men pointed.

Howlader burst out into laughter before shifting into a steely gaze.

"A promise is a promise, ensign."

Newfound loyalty was found that day and Howlader stayed true to his word. His men would follow him to hell and back. Not because he was an Officer. But because he was one of them. It didn't matter what one looked like, only that they had the balls to stand up and face off with the status quo.

[Option 2] Purge The Platform

Breakthrough, thought the Ongree bigot as his feet touched down on the Nesolat Platform. The Collective had delivered a surprise, soul shattering blow to Brotherhood forces that had left a hole in their defenses. Not the kind that the Doctor was used to patching, rather, one that he could exploit.

"My lord, Oligard," his oddly shaped mouth wheezed within his custom-fitted security armor, "At this rate, the brain of the Brotherhood will belong to the Collective in no time."

"Splendid!" came a hazy reply, "I knew I could count on you!"

The praise tingled Rakkas' narcissistic spine and filled him with an overabundance of confidence as he took up his shield and pointed to one of the platforms entrances with his blade.

"Go!" He shouted and out of the shuttle a group of Hive Marines, in unison, jettisoned from the vessel. "Don't kill them all, I need two of these specimens, alive. Bring them to me." His eyes rotated on their stalks as he flipped a dead body over onto its back with the sole of his boot. "Vile."

Like a wave of destruction the Collective forces washed over the platform. Turbolasers and blaster fire seemed to be as numerous as the stars as Rakkas stalked forward with his trademark limp, only to freeze as he heard a familiar hum coming from behind. The wily Doctor was trained to recognize the energetic moan of Lightsabers and if he had lips, a smile would have creased his face.

Atlast, he thought as he charged forward, crossing the threshold of the entrance as the hum grew louder behind him, sealed inside as his blade lashed out at the control panel rendering it useless in a cascade of sparks.

"You've made a fatal error in thinking I would be an easy target." The Ongree turned to face the sound. "Magnificent, I'll give you that." He hissed, eyeing the fierce red blade of a young Human. "Are you a student?" Rakkas asked, his words were poison. "Or something more?"

The young Human was clearly a novice as he fanned his blade and flashed an arrogant smile that had failed to impress the Doctor as intended, an inexperienced rush would follow.

As the Human slid forward and lunged, Rakkas saw the attack from various angles and took advantage of the strongest weakness he perceived. A side step allowed him to easily dodge the lightsaber and with his shield, he smashed into the Human's over extended elbow. The Novice growled in pain and dropped his weapon as the shield shifted and swept his legs.

The Ongree smelled a fresh kill and really couldn't stop himself as his hatred guided his blade through the neck of the fallen, the floor becoming a chopping block. The blonde-haired head rolled and the Doctor scoffed at the ease at which he dispatched his foe.

"Surely someone here will offer a challenge. What are the Force Sensitive cretins learning here?"

The towering creature pushed deeper inside the facility, following piles of bodies left in the wake of his Marines' bloody advance. His eyes rotated within his helmet as he saw rows of unattended archives. A sense achievement welled up inside him as the secrets of the Brotherhood, the Sith, the Force were at his disposal.

Collective troops collected their spoils, what they deemed valuable data, and destroyed the rest. An evacuation sequence triggered, the Academy forces were pulling back, undoubtedly because they were caught off guard and feeling somewhat defenseless.

"Take what you can, we will destroy this facility once and for all." The doctor shouted into his comm-link. A "Yessir," was the only necessary response from those wading into the fray with him.

"Lord Oligard himself will be arriving shortly, he'll want to see this personally."

"See what, sir?"

"The schematics to every Brotherhood facility, their infrastructure, military strategies, the very life-blood of our enemy."

Hope has been restored
The Galaxy will find peace
The Force will guide you

Gui Sol
PIN: 4224