Fiction Gallery

Ronnie's Haiku:

I tolerate you, which I suppose is better than my reg'lar mood.

The end of the day Brings love eternal to us Before it begins

Dancing together Started with a fanfiction Today, something real

• Zig for Zuza

Spoiled Sith emperor Pilot Lord and fair leader Original Mav.

From here, love ere blooms Cupid, thy arrow piercing My heart, with love full

On Sepros he sits, Orian's master and king, his voice shatters wits, and makes our folk sing.

Oh, can't you see folks, he is our Bentre, his very presence invokes, comfort and carefree

He is our Overlord, our Master, our king, he leads us forward, his praises we sing

he united our people, he slayed our invaders, though he is not so peaceful, we do not suffer the raiders.

He rules with a fist, not kindness or joy, thus these words we will list, so with us he won't toy.

He is our Overlord, our Master, our king, he leads us forward, his praises we sing

Von Ricmore Clan Vizsla Concordia, Saxon Naval Forces Bakura, Wild Space

Von Ricmore visibly shook with unrestrained fury. Gauntleted hands tightly gripped the edges of his seat as the Anzat seethed in rage.

The Seer had been found. Or some trace of her at least. The elusive enemy had finally made a mistake, or perhaps this was some form of providence from the Force.

The Vizsla task force had not even intended to find The Seer. The group had been tracking their Great Hunt target, an ex Imperial named Mar’Vel. After analyzing data from the captured Cantina on the moon of Daemunn the fleet had found their way two sectors over to the planet of Bakura.

Upon arriving at the system the Vizslans encountered far more ships than they expected. Numerous Action VI transports which scan revealed to be carrying a large amount of bizarre cargo, including the crystals the Seer made use of during the last GJW, descended to the planet's surface. A whopping 12 Gladiator Class Star Destroyers were fanned out in a protective blockade to defend the transports.

Learning more about or even capturing The Seer took priority over the hunt. Von pressed a button on the console in front of him, opening up a comm line to the Commander of the Vizsla forces on board the Concordia.

“Deploy the special missions company using the ATR-6 flight. They need to capture one of the Action VI ships. Put them in contact with the Shriek Hawk, its interdiction fields will prevent their target from jumping to hyperspace. The fleet will cover your approach.” Von ordered.

“Right away sir.” The commander responded.

Von shifted focus to the fleet in front of him. While the Gladiator class were not true Star Destroyers, the ships were classified as Cruisers in most databases, the amount present were certainly problematic. Mounted laser cannons, concussion missile launchers and tractor beams present on each ship would make deploying bombers far too costly to be efficent. The Clan would have to make due with its fighters to make the battle last long enough.

Each fleet deployed all of its fighters, the Children of the Force had far more Tie fighter squadrons, but the many X wings among the Vizsla squadrons helped to make up the difference. Even the B wings were deployed but due to the enemy composition they remained closer to the Vizsla ships as defensive gunships rather than their primary role as bombers.

The fleets exchanged turbolaser fire as the Concordia sliced into one of the Gladiator ships, disabling its weapons. The Vizsla fleet focused their fire on a single Gladiator, rapidly breaking its shields and destroying the vessel. The Children of the Force returned fire, breaking the shields of the Rim Runner and setting the vessel ablaze. The ship barely jumped to hyperspace in time to avoid destruction due to its exceptional speed.

Von’s attention was stolen by an incoming transmission from the Special Forces Company.

“We’ve captured the ship and are jumping to hyperspace now. We’ll rendezvous back at Sundari Station.”

“Excellent work.” Von congratulated the group. “The fleet will meet you there.” Von ended the transmission.

“All ships jump to hyperspace now. Make several jumps to lose any pursuers and join up at the Clan Headquarters.”

The fleet jumped to hyperspace, damaged but intact. It was time to see what The Seer wanted with Bakura.

*I'm a Rogue Sith, trained by Plagueis initially. *

"How did you get inside my head?" Creon asked out loud. He was alone so didn't feel embarrassed for seeming insane.

*Telepathy and Mind Trick mostly. Your Force Signature grew in the Dark Side after your recent Porg slaying mission. So, you gained my attention and were susceptible to my possession. *

"Not sure I like this. You could be a distraction."

Nonsense, having a Sith possess you can quite often be symbiotic. What was the old saying? Two heads are better than one?"

"Better how?"

**Well, I have knowledge that could be useful to you in your quest for wealth and power. I can protect your mind from others who use you or conspire against you. And I can absorb your Dark Side energy so it doesn't completely overwhelm you. You'll have the Dark Side as your weapon while still following the path of a Jedi. *

"These are but words. I would trust you only if there were results."

*That is something we will both have to work on to achieve. You are the body and your will. Allow me to be the mind. I am your Krath, you are my Obelisk. It's like Master and Apprentice only we switch roles. * “Please tell me you don’t talk a lot.”

*I do, but I won’t allow you to lose focus. I understand the value of silence and won’t get in the way of the here and now. *

“It feels like an invasion of privacy. Don’t to the privacy of your own mind?”

See. That’s the thing. With **Telepathy* people’s thoughts are projected aloud without them knowing that it’s receptible. When you think it is like you are speaking out loud. I try not to have a big ear but I can’t help it when you decide to think near me. *

“How many people go through with this?”

• Oh lots of people. You’d be very surprised with how much we Sith possess other people. Some play with others like a meat puppet, others protect their possession in the psychic plane of the Force. *

“You enslave people.”

• I mean I can leave and find someone who seems more like an agreement. *

“No no… Stay… If this is commonplace then I’ll need your help to get ahead.”

• Now you’re thinking tactfully. Well done.*

“So uhh, what’s the fastest way to get rich in the Brotherhood?”

*It’s the Regent’s economy. He has a monopoly on all the vendors of the Brotherhood. He decides what we get paid and how much items cost. He doesn’t understand inflation, so I don’t think anyone’s pay is going to get larger. So we will have to climb the ladder. * “The ladder?”

*Yes, their structural ladder of leadership. Rank, the societies, clan summits, and offices in the DC’s staff. It all depends on how much your want to produce and the worth it is to them in paying you for it. *

“Well… bounties aren’t paying as much as they said they would. Lets see where this ladder takes us.”

In the sands of dark Tattooine Lived a dragon that was brooding.

Our great hero Jedi Creon hunted the beast and took its pearl...

The black pearl, the black pearl, the evil eye of the night! Torn from its gizzards after losing the fight! It makes a darksaber named dragonslayer! Our hero the ranger moves closer to danger.

A voice call from Creon’s Slicer Remote Control Pad:

“Consul Revak, I would like to ask a favor of you.”

“That depends, what’s the favor?”

“May I use the Idiot’s Array for transport and some cold storage units?”

“Sure. It’s still back on the Asclepius Space Station where you left it. May I ask what for?”

“The Council in Coruscant issued out a bounty for Porgs. 500 per Porg. I’d like to make some extra credits and feed the Jedi with a quick round trip.

“Sure thing. The Freighter’s yours to use.”

“Thank you, Lord Revak.”

Ahch-Too A few days later...

The average Porg weights anywhere from 2-4kg, Creon used 4 to calculate it would be 250 Porgs per metric ton. The Bathleen-class freighter dubbed the Idiot’s Array could feasibly carry up to thirty million Porgs. This total could potentially 15 Billion credits for a planet’s worth of poultry! He had the necessary resources and the hunger for more wealth and power.

The temperate zone preference for these birds changed from closer to Ahcch-Too’s equator to further away depending on the seasons. They do not have to travel far, as they had plenty of fish to feed and islands to sleep on. Creon wondered how they stayed hydrated with fresh water. He landed on a spacious enough land-mass coated with grass. Creon took flight on his jetpack and used his J19 electroscope’s zoom function to the direct feed from the macroscope to his centralized HUD display. Whenever he would see an island with a porg population he would land closer and began firing blaster bolts from his vambraces. The ID10 droid could carry the corpses one by one to the Array and record all the noises being called from the Porgs. It recorded each squeak, each burble, and each song.

The recording of these noises was then transmitted by the ID10 to the Idiot’s Array’s outdoor sound system. It was used for the hardcore parties when it had been under the care of the Wildcards. These calls were used to Lure the nearby Porgs that heard its call to gather closer. The neighbors were curious by the noise and collected within Creon’s regional kill zone. He used telekinesis to carry groups at a time. In areas with high populations Creon used the rapid-fire function of his rifle. It would have to have been intentional for him to have missed how slow the Porgs were running and flying. One shot was one kill. He had missed the easy target practice. The groups better known as a “murder” tried to be aggressive, but there wasn’t enough to be an issue.

1 Month Later

The hunt became a tedious eight-hour workday and Creon took days off to rest and eat. Had it not been for the Cold Storage Containers, most of the reaping harvest would have gone rotten by this time. In the end, Creon was able to collect 4,000 Porgs within the time span he had. He could stay for longer, but would rather take the population he had now and wait to return until after the mating season. Controlling the population made for a long term business plan. For 500 per Porg Creon was due 2 million. With that many credits, he could finally make a comfortable living for himself and his wife.

End

Von Ricmore, oh Ricmore He is bald of head Von Ricmore, oh Ricmore The name fills me with dread

Striving forth no matter what bars the way Determined to always seize the day What of the cost? Oh how the bodies lay Those poor souls which he has chosen to slay

Von Ricmore, oh Ricmore Why do you persist? Von Ricmore, oh Ricmore It’s useless to resist.

Clan Vizsla Zsoldos System, Space Outside Daemunn Acclamator Class Assault Ship Von Ricmore

The bridge of Clan Vizsla’s Acclamator Class Assault Ship was wrought with activity. Final preparations were made as the ship began to descend into the atmosphere of Daemunn. Von was confident in the clan’s ability to establish a presence on the moon. The 16,000 troops aboard the Acclamator alongside the token fleet blockade consisting of the Concordia, Rim Runner, Shadow Fox, Shriek Hawk and Viper Flight should prove ample enough to conquer the moon while preventing outside interruption. If reinforcements were needed the clan could call upon its entire fleet within an hour given their presence within their home system.

Preparation completed, the Acclamator descended into the atmosphere. Artillery and anti air fire buffeted the ship which remained intact as it completed its landing. The Kyber Shield upgrade gave the vessel shields comparable to a stock star destroyer; their enemy would require stronger munitions to bring the ship down before it could make a landing.

“The anti air must be destroyed before we can deploy troop transports.” Von thought to himself.

“Contact the Concordia. Have them deploy 2 squadrons of X Wings and the B wing squadron. That should be ample force to destroy their artillery.” The Sith ordered the Acclamator crew.

“Right away sir.” The captain replied.

“Concordia, Commander Ricmore orders the deployment of 2 X wing squadrons and the B wing squadron.” The Captain messaged.

“They’ve agreed to your request.” The Captain informed.

“Excellent. Let us hope they are successful.”

The starfighter squadrons exited the Concordia descending in formation towards Daemunn. Anti-air fire slammed into the formation, taking down 3 X-wings and causing the formation to scatter. Once apart the anti air had difficulty taking down the fighters, it was designed to take down transports and capital ships. Only an additional 2 X-wings and a single B Wing were destroyed before the ships completed their strafing run, completely destroying the anti air emplacements.

“With the anti air destroyed we can begin deploying ground troops. Deploy the J-1 artillery but replace the usual munitions with fear gas explosives. While they soften the enemy, prepare an advance force with the Gamma transports and have a platoon of AT-AT and AT-ST ready to support them.”

The Captain gave his acknowledgement and repeated the order to the men.

Vizsla forces began to dismount the Acclamator, setting up the Artillery cannons. Mechanics prepared the vehicles as troops double checked their blasters and boarded.

The artillery began their bombardment, a sick orange cloud emerging from the shelled locations. The gas blew towards the makeshift cantina where a series of shouts and screams could be heard from within.

As the bombardment continued the Vizsla forces saw a ship take off from behind the cantina. The ship seemed to blur before fading from view completely.

“Hmm.” Von muttered. “It is safe to assume that our target is onboard that vessel. We won’t find a stealth corvette unless it wants to be found. Have the artillery switch to proton rounds and prep the AT-M6. Obliterate the cantina.”

The bombardment escalated until the cantina was rubble. But Von couldn’t help but feel that the stealth corvette would be the cause of many headaches in the days to come.

::Present time::

Long bronze hair. That’s actually what I noticed first. For a second, I thought I was just admiring another woman from afar while up on stage. I’ve had a tendency to make some eye contact here and there with fans and just random people. I had to be careful in this instance though. I’m not just here to play, I’m here to kill.

::One Week Prior:: (don’t you love flashbacks?!)

“Listen, Dom, I need in on that gig.” Dom was my contact, if you could call it that, on Daemunn Moon. A sleezy Bothan that somehow has roots in the music scene on Daemunn. I figured he’d blackmailed his way into it. No need to ask at this point considering I needed a favor and I saved him from the wrath of a Twi’Lek that wanted to rip his big goofy ears off in a bar brawl.

“What’s the big deal? It’s just some crap cantina with some nobodies playing,” Dom replied, annoyed.

Word is, Captain Mar’vel Wonder is having a gathering of some sorts at this dive place. She’d likely spot me the second I walked in the door, but perhaps on stage, my cover would keep intact long enough to do the deed.

I went with a lie, of course. “My cousin lives near there these days. I wanted to play her favorite song in person.” I’m not sure if I even have a cousin, let alone what song she’s going to like at a crappy cantina on some moon. After some more back and forth banter, I did finally get him to come around.

“You owe me,” I reminded him. “Still with the Twi’Lek thing? Geez that was YEARS ago!” I sighed…..knowing full well he was right. “You know I’ll make it worth your while…..” “How much?” Dom asked. I started low, figuring he’d settle for 3 or 4k, “One thousand credits….and a song dedicated to you”. “What? You’re crazy, go find the Twi’Lek”. “Look, I’ll go two thousand but you’re not getting a single song request.” “Five thousand,” he countered. “Three, that’s it, or forget the Twi’Lek, I’ll find you myself.” “Talk to Osir’in when you get there. He’s the band leader and owes me a favor. Don’t even try that half now half after the gig poodoo either. I want the three up front.” I replied, “yeah yeah, you’ll get it.”

The hunt is on!

::Back to Present:: (You saw that coming right?)

I had a few ideas for getting the job done. A dart shooting from my mandoviol. Finding a way to get something in her drink. Maybe just wing it? Yeah….wing it. A powerful looking woman at her height. I’d almost say she could put up a good fight but then I’d be putting myself down and I’m not a big fan of that….get it, big?

Anyways, I kept my eye on her as she had numerous visitors come in and sit down. Some for just a few minutes, some for more than 20. I swear she eyed me a few times and I just put on a sly smile basically saying yeah, I know you’re a fan and I’ll see you after the show.

During our 2nd break, I saw the chance. She was alone at the table and I needed a drink anyway - why not get an extra and go sit down next to my fan.

It did not go as planned.

“So, looks like you need a refill,” I said to her…wow, what a stupid line. We’ll just say it was on purpose so I look like some idiot in a bar hitting on woman. I’m totally not though….

“That’s the line you want to go with?” Mar’vel replied.

I set the drink on the table anyway. “I’m just a plain musician, not the lyricist.” “Actually you’re quite the established musician. I’ve seen you before.” Hmmm, she was a fan! “I get around,” I said. The cocky smile getting worse…or better? Wider? Whatever. “You do indeed. Your reputation as a Mercenary precedes you,” her own cocky smile, now looking more cocky than mine.

Shit.

Without notice, her hand flips up from under the table holding a small blaster. Before I could recognize it as a stun blaster and not a full blown oh no I’m gonna die kinda blaster….she shot me.

In hindsight, I’m thinking I should have put more planning into killing her and less into my set list. Why did she only have a stun blaster? Maybe I’ll ask her next time I see her.

Dathomir - Nightsister Enclave

The dying light of Damir reflected off the chrome of the Chelandion-class cruiser like a beacon.

“Kark, how did they find me?” Sinya’ni asked as she watched the Hutt ship descend next to a nearby settlement. The diminutive Twi’lek had been hiding out on Dathomir for over a year now and was finally starting to feel at home among the witches and nightbrothers.

“What makes you so sure they are here for you?” asked Callum, a large yellow skinned Nightbrother. The Zabrak had been Sinya’s martial arts instructor and mentor since she arrived in this coven.

“I can sense it. I can sense her.” Sinya’s old mercenary partner, Ash, was the only one to survive their last mission. She was on that ship, and she wasn’t alone. The ship was bustling with what Sinya assumed were slavers. “She must have tracked The Pestilence somehow.”

The Pestilence was a YT 2000 that served as home and headquarters for the crew of mercs that double crossed her. She never could get the smell of their burning flesh out of the walls. Ash had not been there when it happened. Sinya wondered if the Clawdite had learned the fate of her comrades and if she was here to avenge their deaths. Well, the Twi’lek wasn’t going to wait around to find out.

“It is time I moved on. Blue skin and lekku don’t exactly blend in here,” she stated. “I need to find a ship.”

“I thought you had a ship,” Callum teased. “Did you forget where you parked?”

“No! Of course not. That is not my ship. Besides...The smell is a reminder of...well, let’s just say I need a new ship. Besides, if Ash tracked it here, she’ll track it again.” The Twi’lek looked equal parts worried and annoyed. “Care to accompany me to the shipyards?”

“Nope, you are on your own little sister. I avoid the...visitors. But if you think you are ready to return to the rest of the galaxy, we will not stop you.” With that the seven foot tall horned warrior walked back into the cave.

——————————

Dathomir - Aurilia

“This here is the best ship in the yard, guaranteed to outrun the most persistent pursuer! It can be yours for merely...four hundred thousand credits.” The human looked expectantly at the undersized Twi’lek.

Sinya studied the Aka'jor-class Shuttle intently. It would certainly outclass anything she’d flown; however, the price would be a problem.

“Do you have anything for about...thirty thousand?” she inquired reluctantly.

The salesman’s face visibly fell. “Well, we have a couple options in that price range,” he said dejectedly while glancing around the yard for any other customers. “They are over there,” he continued while pointing to two old ships. One was a decent looking little ship. A small brick that could hold about three people. The other was slightly bigger but in much worse condition.

“How about that little one? Will it get me off world?” she queried.

“The YT Dart? Sure it will, not sure where you’d go from there. It will take you years to get anywhere habitable with those sublight engines,” he scoffed. “You’d be better off in that bucket of bolts.” He pointed at the larger ship. “It’s got a standard hyperdrive. And the good news is it costs less than the ionization fluid needed to power it!” he laughed.

Sinya inspected the Sheathipede-class transport. It wasn’t much to look at, but it had good bones and the price was right.

“Does it fly?” she asked skeptically. “It looks like it’s seen better days.”

“Of course it flies. It may be old and in need of a paint job, but it’s space worthy. You can have it for ten thousand. Take it or leave it.” The man was done handholding the demihuman for a sale that would not make him much commission. He was ready to take the credits and move on to bigger fish so to speak. Like the quarren that had just walked onto the lot.

“I will pay you ten thousand, and you will give it a tune up, a paint job, and top off all the fluids for free.” As she spoke, she gestured with her hand dismissively. “And it will be ready for lift off tomorrow morning at first light.”

“Ok, deal. Tony! Get this junk a tuneup and a paint job. Fill it up for an early morning departure.” The salesman grabbed the credit chit Sinya held out as he hurried off to his new customer.

—————————

Dathomir - leaving orbit

Sinya sat in the pilot’s seat programming the navicomputer. She punched in the last coordinates and locked in the route. As the familiar stars stretched into lines, she breathed a sigh of relief. “Alone at last. I have...twenty days, six hours, and thirty-four minutes before I have to pretend again...and I’m talking to myself. Not a good start Sinya’ni. But look at this ship! Finally, a ship of my own that doesn’t come with memories of betrayal and death and regrets.” She got up and walked around, taking it all in. Her hand trailed along the wall as she explored her new home. “Yes, you will do nicely, New Leaf,” she said, patting the side of the ship. “It’s time to finally leave the past behind…”

An old frozen glacier Northern lights fall on twilight And coldness descends.