Droveth Kathera Vectivi

Equite 1, Rogues, Jedi
139
Total Fiction Activities
16
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13324 words in 12 activities
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Displaying fiction activity reports 1 - 10 of 16 in total
Competition
Solo: A Haiku Review
Submission
Droveth Kathera Vectivi opted out of publishing his submission.
Competition
[Wildcards] Origins RO - Part II: Stealth & Recovery
Textual submission

Manually added by Warden Celevon Edraven Erinos

Competition
[Wildcards] Run On Part 1 - Origins
Textual submission

Manually added by Warden Celevon Edraven Erinos

Competition
[GJW XII Event Long] Run On - The Lost Artifacts of Darth Plagueis the Wise
Textual submission

Manually added by Prophet James Lucius Entar

Competition
[Hoth] SoS: Reconnaissance
File submission
Hoth_SoS_Droveth_-_Reconnaissance_Fiction_Submission.pdf
Textual submission

Fair warning, there is a bit of foul language at the end.

Competition
[Wildcards] No good, rotten, cheating Scoundrel.
Textual submission

Refugee Sector
Nar Shadaa

Droveth jerked awake as the sound of glass shattering echoed through the adjacent alleyway. As his eyes adjusted to the dimly lit room he felt his bed, damp from sweat all around him, but cool to the touch. His robes were soaked, but he had luckily removed his armor beforehand. The Knight struggled to remember what he was dreaming, if he even had been at all. He shifted over and removed his sheets, hanging his legs over the edge of the bed.

“You mumble in your sleep.” A deep voice remarked from across the room. The faint light coming through the window barely illuminated the silhouette of a large Togruta, blocking a majority of the window with his modified trooper armor. “Fifth night here, Fifth night of mumbling.”

“Is that so?” The Knight inquired, standing out of the bed and grabbing his armor out of the crate. He turned back toward the Togruta. “Did you sit here all night again, Keiji?” The Mercenary nodded and looked down at the clock.

“I have my post, you have yours. Better get moving.”

Droveth sighed reluctantly, throwing a towel over his shoulder and slipping into the makeshift shower. The Refugee Sector wasn’t exactly prime real estate, but it had a served its purpose for the two Odanites. While lacking certain amenities, like running water or climate control, it was conveniently located directly across the street from a very shady bar. As the Jedi poured the water over himself he took a deep breath, calming his mind with the Force.

This mission hadn’t even been particularly difficult, just monotonous. Droveth had waited in the same bar for five full days without making contact with the informant. His patience was running thin, but they hadn’t been given an exact date. Just a general idea. Pfft. How many days would he have to wait in this same bar before they decide he isn’t going to show? The Human shook the water from his bald head and grabbed his towel.

“You’re running late!” Keiji called from around the corner. The Knight replied back with a jumble of words that all meant something profane, but the Togruta remained silent and steadfast at the window. After a few moments Droveth came back into the room, adjusting the collar on his cuirass. He normally kept his hilt tucked into the side, but since joining the Wildcards the Knight had gained some muscle. The lightsaber was digging into his ribcage. He resigned to the pain, preferring it over not having his blade.

“I need to get a new set of armor, this one’s a little tight now.”

“I saw the target enter the bar.”

“What?!” Droveth choked out as he took a bite from a biscuit, spraying crumbs into the air. “Why didn’t you tell me that?”

“I just did.” Keiji’s gaze remained on the bar at street level. “I suggest you get in there sooner rather than later, I don’t want to have waited all this time for nothing.” Droveth nodded in agreement and closed his eyes, picturing in his mind the illusion he wanted to become. He had spent quite some time deciding what would be the most practical to maintain for long periods, and he had settled on two things: Give himself a full head of luscious, blue locks, and change his skin color to be that of a Zeltron. The Force moved through his body, and he could feel warmth stretching from his toes to the top of his bald head. When he opened his eyes, Keiji had turned to look at him.

“Well?” Droveth raised his hands up and turned in a circle as he spoke. “How does it look?”

“Pink.” The Mercenary returned his attention to the bar, shifting on the window sill to get more comfortable. The Knight grabbed a clean shirt and threw it over his cuirass to hide the armor, snagging another biscuit as he headed out. The Knight exited the room and turned towards the stairs, channeling the Force into his legs. He bounded effortlessly down the flight of stairs and slid to a stop a few feet from the building’s entrance.

A wave of tension washed over Droveth as he felt his illusion begin to fade, and he closed his eyes to concentrate. He would have to be more careful using his abilities while in disguise, one slip up and his identity would be revealed. His earpiece clicked to life and he heard the Mercenary’s voice in his head.

“Don’t blow it this time, Jedi.” Droveth scoffed at Keiji’s words as he stepped out into the street, nodding to a Human couple walking past. The woman’s eyes lingered on him a little longer than her significant other liked, and he pulled her away. The Knight shot her a sly grin as she left.

“That actually wasn’t my fault, buddy. They were cheating, remember.”

“You were cheating also, just not as good.” Droveth could hear the Mercenary sigh through the comlink. “Takota always sends you in, your not even a good gambler. I told him that I would…” He tuned the Togruta’s rambling out as he surveyed his surroundings. The Jedi strolled towards the bar, checking his reflection in the mirror as he passed. The illusion was holding, and he was impressed with how it had come out.

A strand of blue locks fell across his face in the reflection, and he smiled. A different person, anytime he wanted. Droveth had spent much of his life in a low income household, often working at the markets for food for his family. How different it all would have been if he could have been a Trooper, taking what he wants, nobody telling him otherwise. The weight of the Empire at your back.

He shook the thoughts from his mind as he entered the bar. Gone were the days where he used deception to survive, stealing from whoever with no regard for who he was hurting. Now his deceptions were part of a much larger picture, truly for the greater good. The bartender nodded to Droveth as he passed by, heading to his normal corner spot. As he scoped the room he spied the informant, a short and chubby Human with grey hair and patchy grey beard. He giggled to himself as he collected his earnings off the table in front of him. The two Twi’lek gentlemen who he was playing with seemed less than pleased.

The left one leaned in to whisper something in his compatriots ear, who promptly scanned his eyes around the bar suspiciously. Droveth could tell from their expressions they suspected the Human a cheater already. He silently cursed under his breath. If the informant was killed before the Knight could get the datapad, all of this would be a wasted effort. He could already hear Keiji angrily yelling in his face.

The Jedi knew little of Sabaac, so it would be hard for him to win on his own, but he needed to speak to the informant alone. He’d have to clear the table with other means. As a Rodian waitress shuffled by, he saw his opportunity. He raised his hand slightly and pushed out with the Force, flipping her tray of beverages onto the left Twi’lek. He roared as he stood, bringing his arm up and backhanding the Rodian onto the ground.

“Frak!” He spit at the waitress on the floor and tried to brush off the spilled drinks, but eventually resigned to go get a new shirt from upstairs. “Goru, watch this cheating little prick. Make sure he don’t do nothing shady.” He stormed off for the stairs. The right Twi’lek, Goru, leaned in and spoke quietly to the informant. Droveth leaned in to hear, concentrating on his voice, tuning the other noises out with the Force.

“Toku wants to kill ya. Tell me why I shouldn’t let ‘im.” The Human shifted nervously as Goru spoke.

“W-w-well, I have a d-decent amount of credits st-stashed away.” He pulled at his collar.

“Credits ain’t what we’re after.” The Twi’lek smirked, leaning back and crossing his arms. The Knight knew that this pair were after what he was after. He had to get them out before the informant spilled everything. He closed his eyes and repeated Toku’s voice in his mind, over and over. He copied the speech patterns and, channeling the Force, threw his voice across the room to the stairs.

“Goru, get the frack up here NOW!” It hadn’t been perfect, but Droveth had got it mostly right, and the location was spot on. He opened his eyes as the Twi’lek jumped up, but hesitated before leaving. He looked down at the table, then up to the Human.

“I seen what the table looks like Fred, don’t you try nothing.” He turned and headed up the stairs, but his eyes scanned the room as he went. Droveth’s eyes met his for a second, and the Jedi almost felt that his cover was blown. Luckily, the Twi’lek looked away and continued up the stairs and out of sight. The Knight seized his opportunity and hurried over to the table, plopping down in Goru’s seat. Fred eyed him cautiously.

“I believe you have something for me.” He leaned forward as he spoke in a hushed tone. The informant smiled and shifted his hands under the table.

“You don’t look like a Jedi to me.” Droveth reached out and pulled the collar of Fred’s shirt forward with the Force, almost bringing his face down to the table before letting go. “Okay, okay, okay, I get it, I get it!”

“And you aren’t a pushover, I can read a conman when I see one. Don’t try to play me, little man.” The Knight pulled out his most intimidating tone, but Fred continued to smile.

“Listen, I ain’t the guy you were supposed to meet with. He’s dead.” Droveth shifted angrily in his seat, reaching up into his armor and retrieving his lightsaber. Fred put his hands out on from of his face and wagged his finger. “Ah, ah, ah, I do have what your lookin’ for. I bought his datapad for a song, and I intend to sell it for a mint. If you don’t wanna pay, you can just sit there, pulling on your pud.”

“I could take it from you easily.” The Knight held his hilt up in front of him. “I could cut you down in a second and be on my way with the datapad.” Fred smirked and shook his head.

“You think I’m dumb enough to bring it here?” The Jedi felt a presence approaching from behind as the conman spoke, and the comlink in his ear chirped once again.

“Twi’leks coming down the stairs, armed.” The Knight reached up and pressed on the earpiece.

“And how do you know that?” The front door slammed open with a bang, and both men turned to see what was happening. Keiji stood towering in the doorframe, brandishing both Night and Ebony, one slugthrower for each hand. As if on cue, the two Twi’leks reached the bottom of the stairs. Seeing the menacing Mercenary standing before them, they both dove for cover behind the bar and the Togruta began laying down a stream of shots to keep them occupied.

The informant threw his cards to the table and tried to run, but Droveth couldn’t let him escape. He dropped his illusion, insteading focusing on Fred as he ran. He threw his arm out and wrapped the Force around his foot, pulling his leg out from under him. The conman crashed to the floor face first, and Droveth hastily hurried over to him. Fragments of wood showered the ground as the Mercenary’s slugs decimated the bar.

“Give it to me, and live.” The Jedi growled, igniting his lightsaber and moving the blade near Fred’s neck. The Human rolled over and put his hands up, face bloodied and nose clearly broken.

“I don’t have it!” Droveth pressed the blade closer, and the conman cried out from fear. He quickly reached into his shirt and retrieved a datapad, tossing it up to the Knight. He caught it and tucked it into his armor, fitting much better than the hilt had. The Jedi nodded to the left, and Fred scrambled up and out the door, moving especially quickly past Keiji.

“We’re done here, you big lug. Let’s go.” The Mercenary had stopped firing long ago, but the Twi’leks remained cowering behind what remained of the bar. Droveth could hear one crying, but he couldn’t be sure which. He chuckled to himself as the unlikely pair made their way out of the bar and onto the street.

Competition
[COU] Deeper Look Fiction Comp
File submission
Out_of_Gas.rtf