Fiction Gallery

Star Wars - The Voyage Home

The Wilds Dandoran Doran System

He was lost, and fed up. He looked around that the blank surrounding area. This entire thing had gone to hell over the last few days since he had left the chaos at Tipool. At the time joining the Tenixir had seemed like a good idea, partly because he believed in the balance between them and the Severians, and partly because after a long year back in his House Summit he had needed a break and most of his Clan had joined the other side. Now the matter had been complicated by the appearance of this third faction, and it seemed like a good idea to get back to Orian and ensure everything back home was stable. He still had memories of the time they had returned with the remnants of the Sadow fleet after that debacle at Antei to discover the system had been lost.

The problem is he had no idea where he was. He had not seen a single person for hours. His own ship was docked around one of the Tenixir dreadnaughts and the shuttle he had hitched a lift on was long gone. He continued to walk in his heavy armour with the mid day sun beating down on him, wishing he had worn his lighter robes or at least opted for the comfort body glove upgrade.

After a while he stopped. Ahead he could see smoke and some buildings. He sped up his pace and set off towards them, pulling his saber hilt from his belt but not igniting it. As he drew closer he could see bodies and figures in armour walking amongst them while the buildings continued to burn. It appeared to be some sort of farmstead. With no cover he decided to approach openly and see what he found. The troopers were wearing Severian armour and appeared to be searching for loot. He felt a brief surge of annoyance.

Two of them reacted when he came into view, walking confidently towards them, and approached him warily, rifles held ready. Malisane sensed there were three more of them against the buildings. “Who the hell are you?” one of them asked. “I could ask you the same question,” the Sith replied, “only I know looters when I see them. And deserters.” “Yeah?” one of them asked, “so what? This has all gone to hell, pirates and mutants now, so we don't care.” “Obviously.” Another trooper approached, this one wearing a corporals insignia. “He asked you who you were?” he said menacingly, “you look like a mercenary to me. What do you want?” “I came here from the Brotherhood,” Malisane replied, “and I am going back there. I just came to see what you brave boys were up to. I have a particular dislike of looting, deserter scum. I have caught many on my own world. They died slowly and unpleasantly. This is not my world however. So I will leave you to your amusements.” “Oh you will, will you?” the corporal asked looking the Sith up and down, “well as you say this is not your world and you are alone. That is some expensive armour and gear you have there. Worth more if we don't have to peel your body out of it. So how about you leave it for us and walk away?” The other troopers raised their weapons, and waited.

“I would rather not,” Malisane replied, “and I would advise you to return to your business.” The corporal shrugged. “The hard way then,” and he fired. Malisane moved quickly, igniting his saber and deflecting the shot, and then as the bolt hit a trooper he continued the movement hacking his saber through the body of a second enemy, slicing through flesh and bone. He felt a blaster bold ping harmlessly off his chest plate and made a gesture, hitting the ground with the force causing an eruption and the three remaining enemies to stagger back. The Warlord took advantage of the distraction and surged forward, effortlessly hacking down two other enemies as they tried to react. Finally he faced the corporal he held his rifle nervously. “Please,” the man said, “we did not know what you were.” Malisane made a gesture and the corporals weapon was dragged from his grip to land in the warlord's free hand, and was casually tossed away. “I gave you a chance,” he replied, “it was an extremely generous one considering what you are.” He lowered his saber and stretched out his free hand. The corporal gasped as his feet left the ground, as an invisible hand gripped him. Malisane stepped forward as the struggling man was lifted higher into the air, and then backwards towards the flames behind him. “No!” the man gasped, as he flailed his arms and legs, feeling the heat. “Die,” Malisane replied and hurled the man into the centre of the fire, hearing the screams of pain a second later as the corporal was engulfed and cooked in his armour. Finally as only the sound of burning remained, Malisane turned and began to explore. He was not interested in the surroundings, he had enough supplies with him, but was satisfied a few minutes later when he found some barc speeders, presumably belonging to the Severian deserters. Checking they were still in good working order, he picked one and set off across the empty terrain.

He studied the display on the panel in front of him. If the data was right he was a hundred miles from a small supply depot, which hopefully ought to contain at least one space worthy ship. He bend down over the bike and accelerated. With luck he would be off Dandoran and back on his own ship within a couple of hours. Then he could be free of this unravelling, three way insanity and be back on Aeotheran a few days later. Presumably the rest of his House and Clan would drift in a few days later if they had any common sense. He let the miles pass calmly, occasionally glancing at the display to ensure he was on the correct route. He was. Eventually more buildings came in sight and he slowed the bike down, surveying the target destination. There were no signs of life but he was feeling cautious. The depot was a large squat building, surrounded by a chain link fence. A big loading door was open at one side of the building, and hopefully there was a ship inside he could take. He passed through the open gate and stopped the speeder.

He walked towards the building, feeling a sense of deja vu, and pulled his scattergun from where it was clipped to the back of his armour. He continued towards the open door. Inside he could see a beaten up looking Ghtroc freighter, a garbage scow compared with his own upgraded Lancer but it was space and hyperspace capable. It would do if it functioned. Feeling more confident he walked forward towards it. In a matter of minutes he would be airborne. He passed through the doors, and then stopped, sensing something strange around him. He gripped the scattergun and looked around, and then stepped back as several figures appeared from behind crates. His eyes narrowed. They were strange robed figures, with hooded cloaks, and like the mutilated Severian troopers he had seen several days earlier, they had the same crystals emerging from beneath their skin, though less dense. They carried saber hilts though and they were watching him with the same intensity. He felt a pressure on his mind and shook it away. One of them suddenly moved and he pulled the trigger of his scattergun, the expanding pellets striking one of the creatures in the chest and sending it staggering back. Dropping the scattergun he drew his saber igniting it.

As their companion fell, another of the abominations raised a hand and force lightning surged towards him. He caught it with his saber, sending it arching up and down the blade, and he struggled against it, and then pushed it back as he leapt forward. The abomination met his saber with it's own, the blue hilt meeting the Sith's white one, and as Malisane felt another moving towards him for a strike he used all his strength to batter against his opponent. The creature was talented and quick but Malisane was bigger and stronger and a few seconds later he saw a gap in the defence and thrust forward, slicing deep into a clear patch of skin in the things chest, then slicing his blade up and out of its body.

As it felt a second blast of lightning hit him, this time too quick to block and he felt a surge of pain as it arched over his armour, the energy penetrating his defences and he grit his teeth. He forced himself to turn towards it, and advance and then through his pain he focused on the enemy and its connection to the force, nullifying it. As the lightning faded he struck out himself, smashing the creature from its feet with a solid invisible blow. He turned in time to meet a saber aimed at his body, blocking it. The first enemy he had shot was attacking him now, its chest ripped open and bleeding from the pellets that had hit it but it seemed to ignore the damage. Perhaps it lacked the intelligence to realise it was dead. Their sabers met and Malisane focused on trying to batter its weapon aside, as behind him he heard movement as the opponent he had knocked down was beginning to rise.

The Sith backed off slightly, as he heard move movement. The creature he was fighting sensed his change in stance and pressed him as another bolt of lightning hit him jarring his body, and the enemy in front thrust at his body, its blue saber slicing along his beskar armour with a burst of sparks, cutting into it but not penetrating. Malisane, sensing that he was in trouble, hit the button on his wrist and he felt a surge as his jetpack burst into life, sending him high amongst the crates and narrowly missing another bolt of lightning. As he landed on the top of a stack of crates he deactivated his saber and tensed himself, raising his weapon. From below the two creatures were joined by another pair from the doorway, and the four looked up at him coldly. Then he sighed as he heard the whine of speeder engines outside. Two he could probably handle, four was possible though he would likely be leaving injured and needing assistance once he got back to the Tenixir forces. With more arriving the best he could do would be to die with some dignity, even if it was alone in this hellhole.

He took a deep breath, and then frowned. The crystal creatures below suddenly reacted strangely, seemingly loosing interest in him. As he watched wearily they flickered out of sight, and his gaze swept over to the doorway. Then he powered up the jetpack again gaining height as several grenades bounced through the doorway. He managed to avoid the explosion that sent a tower of crates toppling down, and gripped his saber as several armoured figures burst through the doorway firing. Malisane looked on grimly as he recognised the heavy crystallised form of the restoration troopers. Immediately the crystal ascendants appeared surrounding them, attacking with lightning and saber strikes, as the troopers turned to meet them, attacking back with brutal attacks. Malisane resisted the urge to join in the melee as he watched in fascination. The forms of the combatants below were similar but the styles different. How this madness had taken hold of both the Severians and this new faction was a mystery but not one he cared about. He watched for a few more seconds as the mutants battled for supremacy. And then slowly drew his grenade launcher from his back.

The explosion threw the mutant enemies back as the grenade landed amongst them. As the smoke cleared the restoration troopers appeared to be trying to rise, their crystaline skin burned but not seriously damaged, through the lighter armoured ascendants seemed to have taken more damage and were still. Malisane paused a few seconds, then fired another grenade, and a second explosion rocked the large room this time sending several stacks of crates crashing down. The restoration troopers were more still now, but twitching, and the Sith sensed even a second blast would not hold them for long. With a glance at them he fired his jetpack again, soaring briefly up, and then down towards the closed ramp to the freighter. Wrenching the manual release he waited while it quickly lowered, and then as he saw the troopers began to rise he sprinted inside, hitting the button to close it. A second before it closed he saw more troopers entering the depot.

He felt the ship began to rock as blaster fire hit it. He reached the cockpit and quickly sat in the chair. He was not a great pilot but knew enough to get the ship moving, and as he fired up the engines he felt it surge forward, narrowly clearing the door and scattering restoration troopers in its wake. As the battered freighter burst into the open he saw more speeders heading towards him, each carrying a mutilated trooper, and each were disembarking to fire at the freighter. Malisane pulled the controls back and the ship gained height, still shaking as more blaster fire from below hit its hull. Then Malisane breathed a sigh of relief as the ship climbed out of range. A few seconds later it cleared the atmosphere.

Malisane studied the view in front of him as the darkness of space became visible. Around him battle raged. The heavier Severian ships met the lighter Tenixir ones, and neither appeared to have an advantage. Wherever the dreadnaught he had left his ship at he had no idea. Maybe it was engaged, maybe it was destroyed. He sighed. In all his years in the Brotherhood he had never run from a fight, but this was not his fight or even his Clan's, and the battered Ghtroc was barely able to get him away let alone engage. With a final look at the carnage around him he engaged the hyperdrive and he felt the ship respond. He was going home.

Brimestone sat in the casino, gambling and drinking as he waited for his brother to show up. The casino was too posh for his tastes, but then again, the Hutts were known for extravaganza events. He knew the crowd was actually here for the main event fight between heavyweight champion Da’wain “The Rock” Jhonsson and “Stone Cold” Stav Ustan, an illegal deathmatch that had been banned in numerous systems. A Twilek slave acting as a waitress would stop by once in a while to refresh his tonic.

Two hours had passed by when there was a sudden commotion outside, followed by loud explosions that shook the building hard enough that his stack of cred chips tumbled over. Looking around at the crowd that had started to rush for the exits, Brime grabbed and pocketed his winnings. He wasn’t part of any known organization, only associated with the Brotherhood because of his brother, Brimstone. They were identical twins, sans the facial hair.

He headed over to the cash pit and exchanged the winnings to a cred pad of his own account. Then he made his way outside to see what all the commotion was about. Multiple ships in the sky were firing down onto the surface as were shuttles he didn’t recognize were making their landing. Brime watches as they land, while hiding himself from observation.

As soon as the first shuttle landed, multiple blue and red creatures emerged and started to run into the city streets, attacking everyone and anything that was fleeing. He had never seen these before, but he could feel a dark energy swirling around them that he could sense.

As he squatted behind the makeshift barrier, he was grasped on his shoulder by a metal glove. He turned and could see a person in a full Beskar mandalorian outfit. Recognizing the symbol on his chest plate, he knew it was his brother.

“It is time to go,” Brimstone said.

“What the Kriffin is going on, “replied Brimestone.

“The Collective. They have new soldiers and you are not ready for them.”

They both hurried out of the view and back towards the spaceport. As they ran, more blasts came down from orbit that nearly got them. “We need to hurry to my ship and get out of here.”

The two brothers ran as face as the Force would let them. They found their ways into the starport and to Hangar 18 to where Brimstone’s Firespray was docked. He hit a button on his arm sleeve and the ramp started to lower. Once they both were safely aboard, the droid, K'ebatas, was already prepping the ship for emergency lift off. “Sir, we have multiple Collective forces in Orbit and they are trying to level the city.”

“I know, ignore the authorization commands of the dock personnel and get this ship going” he retorted.

As the Firespray lifted, a turbolaser hit the Hanger next to them, destroying the ship and people inside that were trying to escape to. Brimstone jumped into the Pilot’s chair and grabbed the yoke, pulling back hard and changing his trajectory over the city and to the west.

“We’re not going up?” asked his brother.

“Not with those blasts raining down on us, let the others take the hits, we’re staying close to the surface and skimming the planet till we can find a trajectory with minimal oppression.”

The ship traveled for about thirty minutes when the droid finally told him of the best route to make their escape. Brimstone banked hard and headed into the night sky and space. As they left the atmosphere, they avoided detection from one of the Collective ships. A button here and there, and the ship shot off into hyperdrive and was gone in a flash.

—-A Dance With Death—-

The smoke cleared and dust settled in the street exposing the bodies strewn across the ground like discarded litter.Principate soldiers walked around finishing off any Revenants still breathing. It was a massacre as the restoration soldiers had slaughtered the peaceful expansionists with little resistance. Well, that was about to change.

The small blue Twi’lek watched the aftermath of the atrocity from the shadows of an alleyway, waiting for her opportunity. She didn’t have to wait long. A trooper moved near the alley. He didn’t see what hit him as he was bleeding out on the ground. Several more troopers suffered similar fates before the commander noticed the missing soldiers.

Sinya’ni continued taking out the Principate’s oppressors one at a time until she heard a sound from behind her in the alley. The wall at the other end exploded outwards and a monstrous man stepped through the rubble behind the hidden Rutian. She spun around to face the threat and stopped–

Before her stood a seven foot tall Principate Trooper. It was hard to tell, but it may have been human at some point in its past. Now, large red crystals protruded out of his body at weird angles and he lumbered forward like a giant zombie. Sinya’ni heard a little girl scream in terror. The sound snapped her out of her stunned silence, only to realize she hadn’t been silent at all. She had been the one screaming!

The Twi’lek slowly backed away from the abomination. She had heard that the Principate had been using some crystal augmented soldier, but nothing prepared her for the grotesque creature ambling toward her.

The remaining soldiers in the street had come to investigate but quickly backed away. They were as afraid of the super soldier as the Revenants were. As Sinya’ni exited the alley, none of her enemies moved to stop her. They all backed off to give the super trooper room to work. The Twi’lek pulled out her heavy blaster and fired four shots–.

pew, pew–pew, pew. She soon realized why that thing’s allies gave it a wide berth. Not only was it scary as kark, but as the blaster’s crimson plasma blasts impacted the crystalline protrusions, they refracted through the prism and redirected in a random direction. Sinya’ni quickly transitioned to her lightsaber. The familiar snap hiss announced the amethyst blade as it sprang to life.

The creature continued forward unhindered. It didn’t even flinch at the attack. As it began closing the distance, Sinya’ni went on the attack lunging at the monstrosity. She vaulted over it plunging the hot energy blade into the thing’s shoulder. The satisfying smell of burning flesh gave her a glimmer of hope that was extinguished as soon as the blade touched the crystals. Before she had even landed, the saber was dead. The crystal created a feedback resonance that burned out the power supply in an instant.

Fear flooded her body as she desperately tried to reignite her lightsaber to no avail. Her thoughts turned to escape as the crystal creature backhanded her across the face. The strike sent her flying back into the ally where she landed into a rubbish pile. Stumbling back to her feet, she saw the creature resume its slow, methodical March towards her. The end seemed near as she threw her gaze around for anything that could save her. Using her years of practice and fueled by fear, Sinya’ni made a run for it. Leaping from wall to wall, she parkoured up the building and disappeared into the night.

Attacking the Clone.

The Middle Of Nowhere Dandoran Doran System

Senth looked around at the ruins around him, amongst the empty wasteland, and sighed. He was not supposed to be here. He was an officer of the Orian Warhost, who whatever the actual members of Naga Sadow were up to, were not involved in this matter. Had it not been for the urgent need to speak to the Consul he would not be. It should have been a fairly easy journey, and it was until his shuttle had been shot down by whichever of the opposing forces had taken a disliking to a ship without the right recognition signals. Having bailed out before it crashed at speed, he was now stuck here. Wherever that was.

The clone commando tried his communicator again. There was no response. The range on them was limited unless there was a relay station nearby. After a few minutes studying the datapad he began to walk. Then he stopped. A figure could be seen in the distance. They were stood still. Senth ducked behind a block of ruined masonry and focused on the figure. He, she or it was armed, with a blaster rifle, and seemed to be wearing oddly damaged armour. Much of the basic shell was in place, but here and there were odd distortions here and there, like some sort of crystals had pushed their way through it. There was no way of knowing whether it was an enemy, neutral or ally. Senth reached to his back and unhooked his Relby V-10, checking the grenade launcher was loaded. Then he watched. The figure was still stood still, then slowly they turned, the head moving in each direction, and then it seemed to focus on the ruins Senth was crouched in, and began to walk forward, quickly but with a strange gait.

Senth trained his sights on the figure and studied it. As it drew closer he could see that the odd crystal formations appeared to emerge from its flesh, though whether they were grafted on or grown from within he did not know. Senth kept his sights on the figure, not wanting to draw attention to himself. I was possible whatever it was had decided to explore the ruins and had no idea he was there. Or maybe not. Then as he watched the figure suddenly sped up, and a blaster bolt scythed over the clone's head, followed by a second one. Senth pulled his own trigger and a shot hit the enemy square in the chest, where a gap in the torn armour revealed a patch of crystal. The enemy rocked back slightly, but kept running, still firing towards where Senth was crouched. A second shot from the clone took it in the chest again, with no discernable effect, and a shot at its head caused it to stumble slightly, but it continued, still dumb firing towards him. Senth sighed and aimed at the figure, and with a loud crack a grenade left his weapon and hit the enemy, the resulting explosion shaking the rocks around them and engulfing the strange trooper in flames.

When the smoke cleared the clone gave a quick nod of satisfaction, and stood, walking slowly towards the figure. It was sprawled flat on its back, smoking and patches of the crystal were burned away. Cautiously the clone approached it, blaster held ready. He stopped, studying the thing with a morbid fascination. There were still traces of humanity left in the creature, but only in small patches between the crystals and the torn armour. If there were more of them then this needed reporting back to the Summit, if he could find them. If he had a vehicle he would have taken its body back for analysis, but he did not fancy dragging the thing to civilisation. He removed one hand from the weapon butt and reached for his data pad, raising it up. An image would have to do. It was at that point the creatures left hand moved and a blaster bolt from one vambrace scorched towards the clones chest.

Senth reacted immediately, dropping the datapad and hitting the button on his belt in one moment. As his jetpack fired he surged upwards, gripping his rifle once more as the creature fired again, a jet of flame following his ascent and scorching the legs of his armour. Senth felt the heat from beneath the sealing as he fired his weapon back at the creature, flying backwards to create some distance between them. His shots hit the creature once more and he saw it twitch as the blasts hit its crystal armour. Senth felt an impact hit his armour but not penetrate. He landed amongst the ruins, ducking behind a column. He saw the creature continue to aim and fire at him, moving forward and holding its rifle one handed as it reached down for a grenade. Senth fired towards it, several shots striking it and knocking it back slightly but not deterring it. As it raised the grenade and threw it in one smooth motion, the clone fired his jetpack again. It stuttered slightly, raising him up, but not enough to be fully clear as the impact of the blast shook him and as his arm hit a pillar he dropped his weapon, sending it bouncing across the stone below. He landed and ducked behind cover, drawing his pistol.

He raised his head out. The creature was walking towards him, blaster rifle still in hand as its mutilated head looked left and right for him. Glancing down at the light pistol in his hand, he knew it would take an incredibly lucky shot to do any significant damage to the creature. He could not see his larger weapon and unless he managed to stumble over it, it was lost to him for now. Slowly he reached for his belt, feeling for an alternate weapon. Drawing his sword in his right hand, his left pulled a grenade from the other side. He took a deep breath, and then flicked the grenade towards the creature. He braced himself as the seismic weapon exploded, feeling the shock himself of the blast even outside its epicentre, but as the creature gave a peculiar screeching noise the clone leapt out from cover, sword thrusting forward and slicing across the crystals before finding a patch of human flesh and biting in. The creature lashed out with its rifle and Senth dodged, angling his body away and slicing the sword down the creatures left arm, finding another patch of clear skin and biting in deeply with the sword. The creature gave another screech and dropped the rifle as its an involuntary spasm caused its fingers to open.

Senth dodged again as its right hand swung towards him, a blade emerging from the vambrace and scraping along the clones armoured side. Senth backed off, watching the creatures hands for more surprises as it made towards him, closing the gap quickly with a burning intensity. Senth kept his sword held loosely, looking for another gap, and then thrust the weapon forward. This time the creature was ready, and moved incredibly quickly, blocking the strike with an out flung arm and jarring the clones grip and sending the sword skittering away across the ground. Another blow from its weakened but still strong left arm aimed at Senth's helmeted head. Senth instinctively reflected the strike, and aimed a punch at his opponents own head, which was like hitting a rock. He backed off, adopting a stance as the creature moved towards him.

Senth dodged the next attack again, and spun his body round kicking at the creatures side as it flashed past him. He heard a grunt of expelled air from the creature and a loud noise as some of the crystals snapped under the strike, but a second later the creature reacted and spun around, still driving at him. Senth backed off once more. He knew the thing was as fast as him, if not as well trained in martial arts, and was a lot stronger. Despite his training he would be immensely lucky to beat the thing one on one. He needed a new plan. He watched the creature, until it dove at him, and then quickly moved aside, a hand jabbing at its side and grabbing at its belt. The creature swung at him, a fist smashing at the clones armoured head knocking him back and Senth fell, hitting the ground hard and rolling.

As the clone looked up wearily at the creature, it gave a roar of triumph and moved forward. Then it stopped as a growing beeping noise sounded over its own voice, and it looked down at the devices hanging from its belt. Senth covered his head with his arms as the explosion rocked the area. Slowly he got to his feet groggily. The creature was sprawled on its back, its armoured skin smoking at much of its crystal skin was burned away. The clone shook his head in amazement as the creatures arms and legs twitched, trying to gather itself enough to rise. His hand reached down and he gripped his last weapon, the thin tube like device. He flicked the switch and the almost invisible blade emerged. As the creature continued to struggle the clone leaned over it, pinning his knee against its chest. With a deep breath he raised a hand, and then as the creature looked furiously at him he drove the thing blade down into one eye socked, feeling it drive into tissue beyond and the thing screeched again in agony. Slowly the clone pushed deeper, the hilt nearly disappearing into the head as he twisted it back and forth. The creature gave a final twitch, and then was still. Senth rose and drew the blaster pistol from the creatures holster. Looking down at the head he emptied the entire charge slowly into it at point blank range, ripping into the armoured flesh and penetrating its skull. Finally he stood and took a deep breath. Then with a last glance at the corpse, he set off to find his discarded weapons.

Manually added by Prophet James Lucius Entar

Dandoran: Fields of Promiscuity Livestock Holding

The engineers at Kalevala Spaceworks would pale in despair at seeing one of their renowned luxury yachts packed full of filthy livestock, but Py'zah the Hutt demands he be served only the freshest ingredients, and the simplest way to ensure the quality of his meals is by slaughtering his food on-site. The Fields of Promiscuity has facilities to hold both predator and prey, catering to any taste, however mundane or exotic.

The livestock holding deck of the yacht has been separated into two areas, in order to keep the more bloodthirsty of Py'zah's meals away from their natural prey. The herbivore stock are kept in tidy rows of individual stalls, much like speeders in a parking lot covered with manure slurry, separated only by durasteel rails and troughs full of water and sedative-laced slop—all the better to keep the various breeds of animal from getting too rowdy and attempting to stampede. Meanwhile, on the opposite end of the deck, restless predators are left to stew in durasteel-floored cages, with the scent of the prey livestock pumped through the air to keep them on the edge of a feeding frenzy. Some of these cages are unoccupied, doors left open so they can more easily be sprayed down by the ship's crew.

The "processing area"—a kind name for the bloody business of butchering meat—takes up the middle quarter of the holding deck. Py'zah insists that the cuts of meat are prepared by the traditional method of "carving it up with an enormous knife", claiming that more technologically-advanced methods create a noticeable difference in taste. Thus, butcher droids (reprogrammed protocol units, rather than combat models) go about their work at massive steel tables in the midst of conveyor belts to carry the choicest cuts to the kitchen, and bins full of "waste" cuts given to the predators as meals.

Tenixir Revenant Target 1

Buyer’s Remorse

The soft green light from the control panel barely illuminated the cabin. Kalee Reecchi’s cold, dead eyes stared lifelessly at the ceiling. She hadn’t even seen me coming, mused the light blue Twi’lek as she looked down at the lifeless Restorer. The silence was almost deafening

The mission was simple. Infiltrate the ship. Kill the target. Escape the ship. So far, everything went like clockwork; however, the anger and guilt that suddenly hit her was unexpected. Sinya hadn’t known anything about her target. Just that she was a leader in the Severian Principate, and was actively rooting out anyone that didn’t bow to their assumed authority. But as the young Twi’lek’s vibroknife plunged into the woman’s diaphragm, she noticed the telltale scarring around the dying enemy’s neck. This was a former slave….

This realization led her to do a little digging. An hour or so of slicing into the console, Sinya found mission logs of Reecchi’s recent operations. Turns out, she was only after slavers. Aleister will pay for this when I get back– A knock on the door interrupted her thoughts.

“Who is it?” she asked making her voice deeper. Hoping whoever it was would not realize her deception.

“Sorry for disturbing you. You are needed on the bridge Ma’am.” the voice of a young man came hesitantly through the door.

“I’ll be right there. Give me five minutes.” Sinya listened at the door, but didn’t hear any receding footsteps. He must be waiting for her, she thought as she hastily formulated a plan of escape. Getting out of the ship had now become harder since she missed the changing of the guard. Steeling her nerves, she activated door panel….

As the door slid open, The diminutive Rutian leapt out at the unprepared soldier and slit the young man’s throat. Drawing on the force to help her lift him, she dragged the dying young man into the room and left him next to her target.

Stepping out into the corridor, she silently moved towards the docking bay. The living Force shrouded her form making her nigh invisible. It wasn’t until she reached the docking bay that the alarm sounded. She dropped down behind a toolbox as the ship came alive. The guards and technicians who had been complacently oblivious moments before, had awakened from their stupors and hurried to battle stations.

Sinya stuck to the shadows as she made her way back to the starfighter she had used to infiltrate the ship. The only problem was, with the ship on lockdown, there would be no patrols leaving. The young assassin climbed into her cockpit to hide while she formulated a new plan.

Her first thought was to slice into the ships scanners and fake an attack, but that would mean sneaking into the control room. Sinya looked at the exits and the added security. “Yeah, that ain’t happening,” she muttered. “Time for reinforcements.”

The Twi’lek tuned the fighter’s communicator to the Battleteam Oppress frequency. “Master, mission accomplished, bu I need help with this extraction. Can you stage a starfighter attack? It will give me a chance to slip out with their welcoming committee.”

A few seconds of static later, Aleister’s deep voice came over the speakers. “Stand By. It will take some time to organize even a mock attack. Stay alert. You will have a very short window in which to launch.”

“Acknowledged,” she replied. Then, she waited, and waited, and waited some more. It was a grueling four hours in that cramped cockpit before she heard the claxon alarm warning of the impending attack and the pilots directed to their fighters. But she was ready. When the first wave of fighters rose in unison and launched, Sinya’s matching fighter was in formation right along with them.

She was home free. The three hour hyperjump to the rendezvous coordinates seemed like forever as she reconsidered her allegiance to the pirates and her master who had sent her to kill an anti slavery extremist. “Aleister knew my position on slavery,” she said to herself out loud. “He chose to send me on purpose. Just to get under my skin. I won’t give him the satisfaction of letting him know it bothers me. But someday...I’m going to kill that bastard….”

Dandoran cave system.

Unknown to many tourists and wealthy party goers of Tipool City, but there is an elaborate cave system within the bedrock. This cave system can be accessed from certain points along the Nevo Race Track, specifically where the track meets the cliffs. There are also a few hidden entrances to the underground system from various places within the city itself. Some had entrances before the city was built, possibly made into storerooms for expensive wines and goods for the casino or palaces deepest points. Other entrances within the city were carved out to access the caves, possibly by smugglers.

The caves themselves are fairly dry and cool, while there are certain places within the system that contain small underground pools and rivers. Some phosphorescent flora and some fauna inhabit sections of the cave system. Some sections of cave are home to smugglers and pirates, while others are empty and lifeless. Who knows what dangers one can discover, for this vast system has not been fully explored yet.

[Scenario]: Promiscuity: The Pool of Sim-posium

The Fields of Promiscuity have been tailored specifically to the liking sand ostentatious needs of his grace, Py'zah the Hutt. While the immense yacht has refurbishments and attractions each notable in their own design, one of the prized entertainment locations is the pool of Simposium.

Unlike the pool deck reserved for the Hutt's waterworks adventures, this pool deck wets a different appetite. Meticulously spaced upon the waxed wroshyr wood deck to the right are large tables, who's seating easily accommodates a vast variety of species space needs. Various plants decorate the banister resting between the dining area to the large pool. The pool itself looks to be carved from natural stone. The floor of it appears to be designed with a topographic affect of mountains viewed from above. Set along the far wall, directly in sight of Py'zah the Hutt's socialite throne, is a control center. It's responsible for maintaining the humidity, tempature, and other technological variables of the pool deck.

You find yourself invited to attend one of Py'zah's glorious soirees. After a night of fine dining, the pool was opened for swimming. Partaking in the cool waters, it slowly starts to be apparent that something is off. The water levels appeared to be declining and the ladder is missing!

With the water depleted, the pool gives way to a landscape of racks and chlorinated ponds. Panels in the rocky sides open to display rhe weapons sequestered from each guest to security before the event.

Py'zah's butler announces on a holospeaker that tonight's entertainment will be a fight to the death. Last one standing wins a hefty prize.

Dandoran: Glade of Atrocity

The sterile and heartless science of the Imperial war machine still lies buried in even the most beautiful and sylvan settings of this world.

The glade in front of you is a small clearing surrounded by lush, beautiful trees and verdant plant life. The sounds of animals and buzzing insects along with the rush of a rushing brook in the distance. The further one walks into the center of the glade the more quiet the sounds become and you notice that while the grass and flowers remain intact you notice that every insect or animal you see near the center of the glade is dead.

A couple of rusted, grown-over hatches underfoot reveal the reason. This glade is home to the underground testing area of Project Errant Petal, an Imperial bioweapons project focusing on the integration of the Dark Side of the Force and alchemy with conventional pathogens to create targeted and highly destructive bioweapons. Experiments included weapons which would target non-human fauna but not plant and agricultural resources to enable the genocide of a planetary population without destroying its agricultural resources and output along with a project to target non-human/alien populations via a Dark Side infused pathogen distributed in the nearby brook, resulting in the death of a largely non-human smuggler/trading village downstream.

While the weather is usually sunny and pleasant year round the after effects of the bioweapons along with the incredible concentration of Dark Side energy resulting from the experiments and massacres involved make the area beautiful but extremely dangerous. Dark Side spirits from Force users involved in the project and its atrocities may remain. While a lot of the underground facility was cleared out in a panic by evacuating Imperials wishing to avoid war crimes tribunals from the New Republic, some evidence of the former experimentation may remain, with the sterile white corridors of the facility appearing relatively new, protected from the elements and time.

Secret Imperial Research Facility

This secret facility is in a dilapidated state. There are blinking lights overhead and hazy holographic displays that turn on and off at random. Exposed wiring runs along the floor of corridors and the ceilings alike, occasionally producing a spark as it wears out over time.

The corridors are stark white that is marred by years of neglect, mushrooms and other plants capable of growing underground in the dim light sprouting up between durasteel plates and vines snaking around wires. Small rodents and other animals scamper through the abandoned corridors, generally shy, but curious. Some, it is rumored, are remnants of an old Imperial experiment, and may be more dangerous than the average rodent. Research labs are strewn with broken glass and beakers filled with anomalous liquids that have long since grown over with mold and mildew. Some creatures still float inside old tanks filled with water, mutated and twisted from what they once were.

At the heart of the facility are several labs that are different from the others. Diagrams of humanoid species line the walls. Several tables occupy this area. There are containment tanks as in the outer sections, but the liquid in these has grown dark and murky, obscuring what may be within – if anything at all. Glowing control panels sit outside some tanks, and terminals still hum with energy elsewhere in the lab. The ancient blast doors that once protected these labs from outside incursion – or sealed something else within – have long since malfunctioned; some move haphazardly back and forth, while