Fiction Gallery

5 ABY Prophet Howlader “Howie” Taldrya Imperial Star Destroyer Indomitable

“This is getting out of hand.” Howlader muttered to himself as he exited the cockpit of his Tie Interceptor. Removing his helmet with a sigh of frustration, the human began to briskly walk towards his quarters. The ace pilot had a lot on his mind; the destruction of the second Death Star and death of The Emperor had the remnants of the Imperial Military scrambling to restore order. The Rebel Alliance was putting up an even greater resistance than usual, something which bothered Howlader greatly. Those accursed rebels, they brought the war to Endor and death to his tribe, his beloved pandas. It was long past time for Howlader to show them where they belonged; groveling on the ground with the Empire’s boot resting on their neck.

Arriving at his quarters the human locked the door behind him. Taking off his Tie flight suit, the human stepped into the fresher for a quick cleaning. Leave it to his commanders to schedule a strategy meeting almost immediately after his deployment. Howlader barely had enough time to freshen up for the meeting much less grab a bite to eat or get some much needed shut-eye. “Perhaps I should not be so surprised. Command can not seem to implement proper tactics to allow us a victory against the New Republic so why should I expect them to be able to competently create a schedule?”

Finished with his cleansing the human quickly put on his military dress uniform before racing out the door. He moved swiftly through the hallways of the Star Destroyer, intent on making it to the meeting in time. So focused on moving swiftly he missed a crewman carrying a pot of stew. Crashing into him, Howlader fell to the floor. The crewman lost his balance and dumped the pot of stew all over Howlader’s pants. The human gave an exclamation of pain and surprise, having not seen the crewman and undoubtedly not expecting to have hot stew poured onto him.

Howlader hissed in pain and got to his feet. He then grabbed the crewman by his collar and pulled him upwards. “You absolute fool! Do you have any idea what you have just done?! The strategy meeting called by command starts any minute. And now I do not have the time to change.”

The crewman muttered a string of apologies as Howlader released his grasp with a sigh of disgust. With another sigh of frustration Howlader entered the meeting.

As he entered the meeting all of the officers who had been speaking immediately stopped talking. The admiral in charge of this remnant of the Empire looked directly at Howlader and raised an eyebrow. “Normally I would ask for the reason for your tardiness but the answer is plainly evident to any who gaze upon your pants.”

An officer failed to contain his chuckles and began outright laughing. The laughter spread amongst all the officers gathered. Howlader’s cheeks burned with embarrassment and a single thought dominated within his head. “I. Hate. Pants.”

(did a haiku)

Bloodshed in darkness Shadows bind the stars in death Darkness shatters light

Storms rise and strike fierce Echoes of past Lords are heard Ancient power freed

Death and sacrifice Hate must conquer foolish love Chaos power gained

Only the worthy No room for fear and death Darkness rules again

High Sith translation: Wirzyasshu'ija ir jina'tis Hadzuska mirji ri w'ana ir kûts Jina'tis timiri rokatsa

Asimi dradzia diâ tiwi dtoanazi Iwa iw drosar ari aji Nimyi midwan ridasi

Kûts diâ Aukotis Zûtaiki nayir zarmi kinriai aki Chhaosas midwan tihri

Ros ri arji Ra dzikdta dzis nairi ao kûts Jina'tis ririna wau

Source: http://starwars.myrpg.org/coruscant_translator.php

Description:

The artifact is a scepter/lance made of obsidian with an inscription carved in and filled with white Force crystal shards. At the top of the lance is a crystalline elongated blade, the edges sharpened and shaped to resemble a lance point. When the user reaches out to the Force with the ancient weapon as the focus, dark side energy channels through the scepter and into the user enhancing their power and abilities. When used as a weapon, it can unleash an energy blade of Force energy in any energy form desired. For example, it can be a blast of lightning, pure dark energy, or fire. Within the obsidian part of the staff, is a Force crystal-shard-filled hollowed section that is also bound by Force energy. However, this weapon is dormant, and will only wake when a worthy user has granted it a taste of their blood. Any kill made from betrayal by the weapon seems to enhance it power even more. The weapon’s most notable ability is to sap surrounding light from an area, and can create a temporary nexus of dark energy strong enough in a radius of twenty miles nullifying light side energy. Those who fight alongside the user will experience a boost in their own power.

[OPTION 1]

"Get the Headmistress." He turned away from the man, moving toward the door.

"My lord?" The researcher arched an eyebrow at the man, then darted his eyes back toward the fragments of holocron laid out on the table before him. His mind raced, his heart pounding in his chest. He wondered if he had done something wrong, committed some sort of unforgivable error. He retraced his steps, how he had carefully laid out the bits of crystal lattice. Did he remember to keep the shards close enough to each other, in order to avoid any dissipation of residual energy? He cursed himself silently. He wanted this assignment, he practically begged for the chance to show off the new discovery to the Krath Lord, and now he was in this fine predicament. He sighed. "Were you done with..."

Muz turned his head briefly, a cold look crossing his face as a hand shot up to indicate the requirement for silence. The researcher flinched, reaching out with his own senses, letting the pull of the Force wash over him as he felt along the very essence of the universe. He felt the corridors, lined with journeymen, minds swirling as they found their place in their new and larger world. He felt the guards, some from the Throne, others wearing the deep cerulean of the Obelisk as they made their paces. He felt the heavy doors of the vaults, the seals keeping the most precious bits of treasure from...what did Ciara call it? Distracting or corrupting the members of the Academy. Beyond that, he felt the cold, the void of space. The hairs stood on the back of his neck as the klaxons pierced his ears. The door slid open, the black armored clone and violet skinned Twi'lek leaning on the corridor wall in wait, a pair of droids between them. Muz turned back to the researcher, pointing at the commlink on the wall before stepping through the doorway.

"They're playing our song." Doc smiled as he put his helmet on, drawing one of his pistols from a holster at his hip. Muz stepped past him, his gait measured and heavy as he moved down the hallway, the thoroughfare leading to one of the landing platforms.

"Of course they are." Leena groused, nodding at Hekate to take up the rear, walking alongside her blastromech droid. "There's no such thing as a milk run with..." Her voice trailed off as she pulled a datapad into her hand, fast fingers tapping commands as she pulled data from the station's systems. "The station is under attack." She paused watching the data develop. "That's...a lot of ships."

"One of the clans?" Doc sneered the question through his helmet. He wouldn't put it past any of the clans to try to strike an attack of opportunity, try to seize the artifacts and neophytes for themselves. It'd be a risky gamble, but he had read of worse attempts.

"They're having trouble with the IFFs." Leena paused for a moment. "Like at Meridian."

"The Collective then." Doc chuckled, watching the end of the corridor grow closer with every step. He looked at the Keibatsu. "We're playing defense this time, or are we just bailing?"

The chaos seemed to grow closer, distant explosions echoing toward them, the metallic whine of breaching jaws tearing through the hull giving way to the thump of boots hitting the floor and weapons charging in the distance. "Blackwind's messaged us." Leena snarled, crouching down behind her droid for a moment, fingers flying across the device in her hands. "Ciara's asking for aid."

The light spilling from his sabers was all the answer that was given.

At first glance, this whip looks like any ordinary whip. However, closer examination reveals an insignia located on one side of the hilt with gold webs on either side. The insignia is the Sith Orders and within it is a symbol for the Inquisitors. The length of the whip is a simple but aged braided leather. Looking at it you could tell it had seen many battles.

The very bottom of the hilt discreetly twists off. Within the hilt is a small piece of old parchment. And written on this parchment is where a Sith Incantation is written to unlock the whip's hidden powers.

Once the whip is activated the user can use it to lash out webs of power that surrounds the target and shiphons their strength.

Haiku Poem:

A hard hilt Grasp it within your hand Smell the leather

Take your stance Extend your arm up Crack the tip

State the code Feel the power within Embrace that power

Channel to whip Lash out towards target Weaken your opponent