Fiction Gallery

Frozen in Winter The Ancient ones watching all Icy and bitter

The gods will arise their followers are marching across all the lands

Blood runs very cold Fighting to preserve what’s left Against Gods upset

Eulauti's Chant:

Brewing ice, frothing from beneath, Surface melting, to bubbling, lightning sunders the land.

We tremble, fumble, offer our hand, Though it may be struck, its a price of no match to his.

Even at his anger, we pray, For his blessing to further our hounds and spears.

There once was a god named Eulauti Whose legs were as thick as an oak tree The oceans he swam and far across land And all could see he was lordly

The Gallant Wynter strode forth Regal and magnanimous in his on right Casting aside all assailants, confident in his might

To friend and foe alike Never failing to face each slight He would vanquish any obstacle And sleep the sleepless night

What shall we do with a drunken Sith Lord, What shall we do with a drunken Sith Lord, What shall we do with a drunken Sith Lord ear-ley in a war?

Put him to bed with the GM's daughter, Put him to bed with the GM's daughter, Put him to bed with the GM's daughter, ear-ley in a war!

Whey-hey the Brotherhood arms again, Whey-hey the Brotherhood arms again, Whey-hey the Brotherhood arms again, ear-ley in the war.

(Sung to the tune of Drunken Sailor *GM's daughter is a form of cat o' nine tails/flaying in this case!)

Settle together, Weary bones and tired soul, To feel whole again.

The trees are taller It could be a nice trip here Ewoks kill everyone

Its the time of year, When friends and loved ones meet up, To share together.

Retrieval Experts

Retrieval Experts

The Hub Kinestia

The Auzituck gunship touched down on the raised landing pad. After a few seconds its engines powered off and the ramp lowered, emitting a short robed figure. The figure glanced back at the ship as the ramp raised again, and then walked down the long steps to the bottom where a bored looking man was stood in front of a small canopied building. The man looked up as the figure approached. He raised his datapad. “Welcome to Kinestia. Is your purpose in coming business or pleasure?” The figure raised its head, looking past the man to the grey metal facility in front of him, a mass of factories and refineries with yellow smoke emitting from each stack into the dark atmosphere. “Business.” There was a gravelly deep quality to the stranger voice. The man nodded. “Do you have any goods to declare?” “Only what I am carrying,” the figure replied quietly. “Very well,” the man replied, “is there anything I can further assist you with?'” “I am looking for someone,” the figure replied, the voice still deep and slightly muffled through the cowl covering its features. “Really?” the man said quickly, “and who might that be?” “This person is likely to have landed here two days ago,” the figure replied, “a human female. She was believed to be piloting a WTK-85A.” “I wouldn't know anything about that,” the official replied, “all arrivals and departures are confidential.” The figure looked up at him quietly, the dark eyes looking intently into his own. “I can pay for confidential. Two hundred.” The man looked left and right and then nodded. “Give me a minute,” he said tapping at his datapad, “yeah she landed on docking bay Krenth around when you said, two days ago. The ship was pretty beat up apparently. She paid for it to be stripped down and serviced, complete ID and log change.” “Has it left?” “No, its still being worked on.” “Do you have any information on her whereabouts now?” The man checked. “She left an temporary address of the Starlight. Its a small hotel in sector three.” “My thanks.” The figure took a credit chip from its pocket and handed it over. The official nodded. “Good doing business with you.” The figure walked past him and the offical took a deep breath and slipped the credits in his pocket. The he heard the voice behind him. “You seem like a sensible person. Do not reveal what I have asked you. You would not like the outcome.” When the man turned nervously there was no sign of anyone.

A while later Sarthis made his way across the grey metal area. He kept his mask over his face. The air here was breathable but still had the stink of fumes from production and waste recycling. According the the display on his data pad the Starlight was a short distance ahead. He was assuming of course she was there. From the brief he had been given his quarry was an agent of his employers secret service, the Inquisitorious, whatever that was. So far he had managed to trace her to this remote forge world. He had been experiencing doubts but the customs official had confirmed it. Or at least that she was officially here. Still, the hotel he had named was a good lead he would start there.

When he arrived his first impression was that the Starlight did not fit the image its name suggested. It was dark, squat and rundown. It had a pair of heavy double doors that opened as the noghri walked inside. The interior was basic, with a few sofas and benches scattered around and a reception desk at the far end. A lift was to the left and to the right the entrance to a bar area. There was a protocol droid receptionist behind the desk and Sarthis approached. “Good afternoon Sir,” the droid greeted him, “how can I help you.” “I am looking for someone,” the noghri replied, “I believe she is staying here. Melanis Vmor.” He produced his data pad with the image. The protocol droid looked at it. “Do you have a room number Sir?” “No,” the noghri replied flatly. There was a pause while the droids eyes flashed. “We have no guest of that name Sir. I am afraid I am unable to assist you.” Sarthis sighed inwardly. Droids were notoriously by the book, and impossible to bribe or apply weight to. “Very well.” “You may wish to try the bar area sir,” the droid advised, “or if you have a contact number you can attempt that.” “Thank you.”

Sarthis backed away. The bar was not a bad idea. He turned and entered it through the door. Like the reception it was basic, metal tables and benches with a light padding. The bar itself was at one end, behind which was a bored looking twilek female. Sarthis approached it. “Hello Sir,” the twilek said with a fake smile, “what can I get you?” “Fruit juice,” Sarthis replied, “no ice.” He did not consume alcohol. “Coming right up Sir.” Sarthis pulled himself up onto a metal stool, and pulled back his hood. The bartender returned and placed his drink in front of him. It was dark purple. He took a sip. “It seems quiet.” The twilek nodded. “It is Sir,” she replied, seemingly glad of the conversation, “we get a lot of people coming and going.” “I was hoping to meet a friend,” Sarthis told her, “I think she is staying here. We lost touch before she landed. He produced his datapad again. The twilek glanced at it with a brief flash of recognition, and back at the noghri. “We get a lot of guests here.” From her scent, Sarthis could sense she was being evasive. He reached into his cloak. “It seems I only have a hundred credit chip to pay for my drink,” he replied, “I imagine someone could have a pretty good night out with that round here, or even a weekend” He held it loosely in his hand. Her eyes focused on it. “I saw her in here last night,” she replied, “sat in that corner.” Her hand moved towards the noghri's own. Sarthis tightened his grip slightly. “On her own?” “For most of the evening,” the twilek replied, still looking hungrily at the credits, “then she was joined by someone.” “Who?” “A local merchant, though not a legitimate one. Small time dealer.” Sarthis grip on the credit chip loosened slightly. “Do you have a name?” “He is a Kel Dor called Nast Shak.” she replied, “he has a warehouse two streets from here.” Sarthis let her take hold of one half of the credit stick, and then released it. “Thank you for your assistance,” he said quietly, “one thing though.” “What?” she asked. “I was not here, make sure you remember that.” He opened his robe slightly to show the hilt of his beskad and pistol.” “Of course!” she replied hurriedly. Sarthis drained his drink and left.

It was dark, except for the burning street lights and the fire from the atmosphere stacks above. Sarthis was crouched on a roof watching the door of the small warehouse. No one had been in and out for an hour, and those had just been random employees. He hoped he had not been given a false trail. Time was of the essence here. If his quarry intended to sell the plans he had been sent to retrieve then her business might be complete and she would have no reason to remain here, damaged ship or no damaged ship. He had no way of knowing where else she may be though, so this was his only lead. Then he ducked slightly as he saw a figure leave the doors, wrapped in a black cloak. From her shape Sarthis sensed she was female, and her quick movements radiated annoyance or impatience. This might not be his quarry, but there was every chance it was. Sarthis began to walk quietly across the rooftop, keeping low and watching her as she strode across the open area, and then down the backstreet he had taken earlier from the Starlight. Sarthis paused, and then leapt across a gap between two buildings, watching the street below. It was quiet and narrow, and the woman was making quick time along it. He sensed that this was his time.

The woman spun as the figure dropped behind her, her hand slipping beneath her robes. Her eyes studied him from beneath her hood, and her features were suspicious. They matched the picture of Melanis Vmor, his target. Sarthis straightened and raised his blaster pistol. “We need to talk.” She studied him, her hand still beneath her robe. “What do you want noghri?” “I imagine you know,” Sarthis replied, “the plans.” Melanis features registered annoyance. “Who sent you?” “That is not relevant,” he replied, “I am here to retrieve them. I would suggest you give them up.” Her eyes looked him up and down. “You are not one of the Brotherhood.” Sarthis kept the pistol pointed at her. “I do not know of who you speak.” “A mercenary then,” she replied, “listen to me, Noghri. You do not know who you are dealing with. I suggest you depart now.” “You will give me the plans or if you have already parted with them you will tell who has them.” She sighed. “Very well then if you want it the hard way.” Her hand suddenly moved, and as sNoghri pulled the trigger of his blaster, her arm swept round incredibly fast as she moved to one side. A purple light saber blade ignited from her hand, batting the shot away.

Sarthis cursed. He did not know he was dealing with a force user. His employed had not made that clear. He had encountered several recently since he had made a temporary home in the Orian System, and had even picked up some useful items from their corpses. However her status had not been made clear and the price was too low. Slowly he kept the pistol on her, as she stood holding her saber, its light reflecting off the metal walls of the buildings. “You have one last chance mercenary,” Melanis told him, “I am feeling generous. Go about your business.” Sarthis looked down at the pistol he was holding. He was actually tempted. He was not being paid to fight her. However he replied, “No. You will tell me where the plans are.” She snarled. “Then die.”

As she advanced he dropped the pistol and backed off, his own hands going to his waist and he pulled his beskad and kal from his belt, backing into a defensive stance. Her eyes briefly registered surprise as she saw the beskad weapons, then she leapt at him. Sarthis blocked her strike, the kal meeting her saber and driving it away, as he thrust the beskad at her. She recovered quickly and leapt back, her saber deflecting the sword away. It was Sarthis turn to advance now, and he moved quickly. She raised her left hand and Sarthis braced himself suddenly, before an invisible punch hit him, driving him back and he staggered, holding his blades across his body. He angled his body as she moved on him, and as she raised her hand for another telekenetic attack, the noghri leapt forward distracting her, the beskad aiming at her chest. She snarled and blocked the blow with her saber, and then moved it downward as the kal blade also moved in.

Sarthis was becoming concerned. He was good in close combat, but did not had the force users speed. This was not his preferred method of combat. “Wait,” he said quietly, “this is unnecessary. All I want are the plans. I am not being paid to kill you.” “As if you could,” she snarled. “If you have already sold them then tell me to who. Then our business is done.” She paused, her face registering annoyance and a hint of surprise. “Sold them?” “Indeed,” he replied, “was it the Kel Dor? If so I will continue my investigation there.” “I have not sold them,” she snapped, “how dare you?” Sarthis was suddenly puzzled. He reaction had turned from annoyance to fury, and seemed genuine. “You are not here to sell the plans?” “I am here to retrieve them,” she replied coldly. “after they were stolen from me. My ship was ambushed.” Sarthis lowered his weapons slightly. “I am here to retrieve stolen plans, by whatever means necessary from the individual who stole them.” “Unbelievable,” she replied furiously, “after all these years they believe I am a traitor.” “Your relationship with your employer is not my concern,” Sarthis replied, “if you do not have what I want then tell me who does.” “I can not allow you to do that,” she replied, her tone moderating slightly, “I must return the plans myself. It is apparent I have a name to clear. Walk away and stay out of this.” “It appears you have not had much luck so far,” Sarthis countered. “Negotiations are ongoing,” she replied with a cold look. Sarthis considered this. “There may be a compromise.”

Melanis walked back into the warehouse. She allowed herself to be searched, removing a knife and a pistol from her waist. The Kel Dor entered the room, flanked by his guards. There were more above them, rifles trained on the inquisitor. “You have managed to obtain more funds?” he demanded. “I have come to make you see sense,” she replied, “if I do not return my employer will come looking, first for me, and then you.” There was a brief chuckle from beneath the mask. “You are wasting our time Jedi. I am not afraid of your Dark Brotherhood. Let them come.” “Very well,” she replied, “I tried.”

Her expression did not change as a shot rang from high above, and the Kel Dor twitched as a blaster bolt hit him straight between the eyes. As the guards reacted and looked up, weapons aimed, Melanis followed their gaze and then held a hand out as a cylindrical object spun through the air and she pulled it towards herself. As soon as the saber ignited in her hand she leapt forward, attacking the surprised guards. High above Sarthis continued to aim the shots, taking down several of the guards on the gantries as they tried to see who was shooting at them. He crouched near the edge of the skylight and kept his body out of the way of the returning fire. Then sensing the enemies were backing off, he dropped the rifle and levered himself into the skylight, dropping and grabbing the edge, and then swinging to gain momentum. Finally he landed on one of the gantries, his beskad and kal coming into his hands and leapt at the surprised guards. Below he saw the force user had despatched the enemies on the ground and was looking up at him. As he saw a guard aim a blaster at him, the man pitched backwards as an invisible blow hit him and land hard on top of a crate. Then there was a pause. “We surrender,” a voice shouted. “Drop your weapons and get out of here,” Melanis shouted back.

She turned as the noghri landed on his feet in front of her, his weapons still in hand. She gripped her saber. “Our deal still stands?” Sarthis looked back at her. “So long as you keep your end.” He lowered his weapons, sliding them back into his belt. “I will ensure you are paid,” she said with a shrug, deactivating her saber, “we will leave together. I will retrieve the plans.” “I will retrieve my rifle,” he replied. “Good,” she replied, “then we will waste no time.” “Agreed. I will meet you outside. We can reach my ship before any other hostile forces begin looking for us.” With a final nod, Sarthis began to climb back up the boxes towards the roof.

Giant wroshyr trees Can-cells buzzing through the leaves Life Day on Kasyyyk

A day in the life Should never be forgotten But always cherished

oh so much drinking, presents, food, and family and shenanigans

Together, Apart Wherever you are this day Know you're in my heart

Wookie ate the food Then broke my bones with a hug Must find a medic

Sundari Station Zsoldos space Clan Vizsla

Von Ricmore gazed out the transparisteel window of Sundari station, his gaze drawn towards the surface of the planet Zsoldos below him. The Anzat had a lot on his mind, having received a series of troubling dreams; dreams he believed to be premonitions from the Force.

He had woken many a night to the terrifying visage of a dathomirian nightbrother wielding an ominous white blade. But the Force whispered that it was a threat to be wary of in the future. He had a much more immediate problem to deal with.

The Zabrak was far from the only face to haunt his nightmares. He often saw the face of the contemptible Seer; more recent visions included her cackling over the body of Korvis. Clan Vizsla could not afford to lose its Consul, and Von refused to lose a man that he was proud to call a friend.

The Seer was wise and cunning, possessing a talent for plotting and maneuvering elements behind the scenes. She wouldn’t be foolish enough to believe that she could best a Mandalorian on the field of battle. She would use battle as a tool to weaken her foes and strike while they are weak, perhaps with one of her crystallized monstrosities.

Yet Von could not shake the feeling that The Seer had something else planned. How would she sow fear and terror in the heart of Clan Vizsla? If he had to achieve such a goal, Von would resort to assassination, to show his foe that nowhere is safe. Slaying your enemy while they are resting among their forces and defenses was the kind of paradoxically bold and subtle maneuver that The Seer seemed to prefer. She had allowed others to further her goals in the past, avoiding placing herself in direct danger.

Von was filled with a sense of satisfaction from the Force around him. Whether congratulating his inference or merely excited for the coming conflict, Von could not say. But he now knew what he had to do. He had to bait out the assassin and slay them before Korvis could come to harm.

Taking advantage of his status as Quaestor of House Deathwatch, Von scheduled a meeting with Korvis and allowed the information to leak throughout the Clan. The meeting would occur within a slum on Nar Shadda, away from the prying eyes or security of Clan Vizsla. Knowledge of such a meeting would surely lure out the assassin.

Von flew his Tie Defender to Nar Shadda, paying the docking fee to avoid any trouble or suspicion being brought upon him. He left the spaceport and ventured towards the meeting location.

Having sent a body double to represent him, Von cloaked himself in the Force, hiding himself from the eye.

Arriving at the meeting place, Von remained shrouded as he looked around for any possible threats.

Korvis and the Body Double arrived and began to converse. Von’s brow knit in concentration as he called upon the Force, allowing it to flow through his ears, heightening his hearing.

His amplified hearing soon picked up a pair of extraordinarily quiet footsteps. Turning towards the sound, Von saw a figure unholster a blaster sniper rifle. Taking no chances, the Anzat dropped his Cloak and stepped forward with his right hand curled into a fist. The figure began to choke as it dropped its weapon and was lifted into the air. Von kept his grip tight until the figure ran out of air, slumping over unconscious. He pulled the figure towards him before setting them on the ground.

“Now, let’s find out what you know.” Von declared as he dragged the figure away for interrogation.

There once was a Sith from Korriban He had a vendetta with a man named Korri But his ship ran out of fuel So he was unable to duel And as for the Sith, well Korriran