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Thread: .:*Jedi's Creed*:. .:*It Begins*:.

  1. #1
    ♥ <(^o^)> ♥ Advanced Trainer
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    Default .:*Jedi's Creed*:. .:*It Begins*:.

    A long time ago, in a Galaxy far, far away…

    STARWARS
    Jedi’s Creed

    It has been ten long years since Revan fell to the Dark Side.
    The Republic has fallen into disarray, and darkness reigns
    supreme. Numerous Systems has broken away from the
    Republic and joined a powerful and reformed Onderon under
    the leadership of King Vaklu.

    The Miraluka; the Galaxy’s last hope to see such threats are gone,
    leaving everyone blind. Yet, there is hope. On the watery world
    of Manaan, Jedi Master Vandar prepares his students to venture
    forth and extinguish the darkness. With only a few to spare,
    Vandar sends a lone group of Jedi to discover the truth behind
    the powerful Dark Side.

    All paths lead to Nar Shaddaa, the smuggler’s moon and paradise.
    Thick with life and bounty, rumours are a bound and many paths
    intertwine and cross there. It is on this world that the Jedi and
    their soon to be allies first realize the power they are up against.
    And what it may cost to bring balance to the Force…




    Skyess Ban | ♀ | Juyo


    Hyperspace travel was a dull, tedious and boring thing. And in this small, cramped shuttle that Master Vandar had graciously given the group of secret Jedi was in desperate need of repair. Skyess was well aware that Czerka had its hand in numerous shady things, but their hyperdrives and upgrades couldn't be beat. Obviously Vandar thought whatever low-grade gear this contraption had come with had been good enough. Skyess Ban begged to differ, as she sat at the controls of this particular shuttle, she found it quite disturbing when a low moan echoed down the corridors from the engine room. The half-breed of Twi'lek and Togruta looked back down the dark hallway with a frown.

    "What was that?"

    A cloaked figure popped his head out of the main room and glanced down the corridor and looked back up at Skyess, shrugging, before fiddling with the visor over his eyes and disappearing again. His name was Aramiel Takoli, a Defel padawan who Skyess wouldn't exactly call a friend, but more of an acquaintance. They had never really spoken much in the Academy, though they had sparred a great number of times. He was quite adept at lightsaber combat, but Skyess had always beaten him.

    Laylan appeared from the engine room than, gathering the attention from Katrina who popped out of the starboard dorms and Lyreth Kafir who stepped into the hallway from the connecting, small hall from the cargo bay. While Katrina appeared to be concerned by Laylan's disgruntled appearance, Lyreth (who Skyess particularly despised...) looked unimpressed. Laylan noted by their looks before walking down the corridor with pride in her step to the cockpit. Skyess looked up at her.

    "Well?"

    "How long until Nar Shaddaa?"

    "Probably a couple of minutes..." Skyess paused, looking at her sister with caution. "Why?"

    "The Hyperdrive is a bit... Touchy."

    All three of Skyess's Lekku twitched nervously from the way Laylan had said that sentence. "Touchy?"

    "A mighty bit."

    Another groan emanated over the shuttle, before something in the engine room popped. Steam hissed out into the hallway just as numerous alarms began to switch on. Laylan ran back to the engine room.

    Skyess looked into space. "... Great."


    ~.~

    The ship broke out of hyperspace without any sort of grace or elegance. The shuttle’s panels were falling off right, left and centre and the ride became extremely rocky. The hissing stream wasn’t the only thing now billowing from the engine room. Smoke and flames had begun to creep their way through the door and into the venting system. Every alarm possible was beginning to activate and billow warnings through various sorts of sounds. Skyess gulped, as they hit the atmosphere of smuggler’s moon, the ship threatened to fall apart, losing various components including a few that had been keeping this rocky ride from getting any worse. However, once said parts were gone, the ship begin to spin and tumble out of control. Skyess Ban cursed her master, and cursed whoever had built this sorry excuse for shuttle. She could hear the others calling out in anger and disarray as the ship broke through the atmosphere and now tumbled uncontrollably towards the towering city of Nar Shaddaa.

    Through the spiralling, Skyess was able to make out what appeared to be an edge of one of the towers. She gulped, opening the comlink.

    “Hold onto something!”

    The hit was spectacular, the shuttle took a good chunk of the city with it, and its spiral was turned into a tumble. Skyess groaned, closing her eyes in desperation to keep her wits about her. Even the force couldn’t protect her mind from this; the spinning was sending everything haywire. Within a couple more seconds the shuttle smashed into another tower, bouncing off the side to glance off another before the ship’s nose was torn off as it flipped engine over nose into the side of another tower. The half-breed had hit her head numerous times, and now was too concentrated on saving herself rather than worrying about the ship. Laylan also crossed her mind, but she figured the knight could fend for herself…

    The next instance seemed to last mere milliseconds. The hellborn shuttle was in a nose first dive towards the ground, which seemed to be litter in numerous large crates and if Skyess wasn’t mistaken, those were people…

    And then there was nothing but the cold, grey ground.


    Master Vandar stood beside the former masters Vrook, Dorak, and Zhar, they all stared towards a woman who had a sly smile on her face. She was dressed in a republic combat suit, and though her complexion and stance seemed normal, her eyes were a bright, vibrant yellow with a slight orange ring around the pupil. She looked at them in a condescending manner, though they seemed oblivious to it. Her hair was long and black, and this woman, whoever she was, was quite attractive.

    “We have decided to train you.” Vandar spoke, with a smile. The woman looked at him, and smiled. But it was fake… It was, if anything, evil.

    “Thank you, Masters.”

    Skyess Ban stepped forward, out of the shadow, yet no one seemed to notice her. They all seemed to nod towards this woman, this wicked woman who had them all wrapped around her finger.

    “That can’t be…” Skyess spoke, startled when the woman looked over at her. Her eyes burned into Skyess’s. Her body trembled with fear and the entire scenery went dark. “Could it have been…”



    The next scene was more familiar. It was the glass room of the Manaan Academy. She remember this, everyone chosen for this mission had stood here, facing Vandar. He was lecturing them all on the dark side and how it now controlled the galaxy. And how they were supposed to arrive on Nar Shaddaa quietly and scout around. Attempting to gather any information on the Sith and their recent doings. From left to right, the adventurers stood in this order, if Skyess recalled correctly.

    Laylan Burgundi: a Jedi Knight who had quite a sarcastic attitude, and was quite loyal to the ways of the light. She was also like a sister to Skyess, and if she remembered, much older than the others, yet still looked young.

    Herself, a half-breed who was quite, tended to scheme, had a rivalry with an annoying Jedi Knight named Lyreth Kafir.

    Katrina Maiya: One of the nicer students, she tended to be kind and caring. Skyess didn’t have anything against Katrina, they both practiced Juyo, which made Kat all the more impressive to Skyess.

    Aramiel Takoli: A Defel who seemed to keep to himself most of the time, unless he wanted to spar. The cloaked fighter was usually Skyess’s sparring partner, and usually had a new trick planned every time.

    And finally, Lyreth Kafir: A human who seemed to be the complete opposite of Katrina. No, this girl was headstrong and seemed to think she was the best in everything. Skyess absolutely hated this woman… She duelled with Lyreth once or twice, when their arguments had grown out of hand. She had beat Lyreth, though when Lyreth switched from thinking to purely instinct, Skyess had been taken back.

    Yes Master Vandar, quite a time you established. One that had such a wide range of people; there was no way they could get caught off guard.

    Apparently that had been false, as the ship falling apart was quite a surprise.



    “Skyess!”

    “What? Huh?” She grumbled, her eyes opening to see that her restrains had broken and she was slumped against the control panel. She looked over her shoulder to see Lyreth standing next to her, looking quite irritated. Skyess Ban looked around in a slight daze before coming to her senses and realizing that there were a number of people staring through the broken helm glass at her. She blinked, and scanned each one of them. None of them appeared to be much of a threat, but then again. She had just hit her head, compared to the free fall she had just experienced; nothing was quite as frightening or daunting.

    “What happened?” Skyess questioned, standing up and flicking a number of switches. Lyreth groaned and leaned against the other chair.

    “You crashed the ship.”

    “I what?” Skyess snapped in return, glaring at the human. “I didn’t crash-“

    “Get off the ship, get off the ship, get off the ship, get off the ship-“

    Both Lyreth and Skyess were interrupted when Laylan, covered in ash, soot, and what-have-you, ran in between the two of them and dived out the hole in the cockpit window. Both of them blinked, glancing at each other before Lyreth ran back to get the others and Skyess clambered and then rolled out of the window. She hit the ground hard and was pulled to her feet by Laylan, who was practically dragging her away as the other cleared out of the ship by the shuttles loading ramp. Skyess was confused, she looked up at Laylan and then back at the ship.

    In a split second, a number of poorly dressed and unhealthy looking civilians were thrown through the air as the ship exploded. The group of Jedi gawked as their transport erupted into flames and sent shrapnel, people and other projectiles in all directions.

    “Great…” Skyess grumbled, turning away from the fire as she tried to think.

    “Vandar will believe we’re dead.” Everyone turned to Katrina, who shrugged as what she was telling was the truth. “That shuttle had a transponder on it, when the signal disappears, Vandar will assume we’re dead.”

    “Perhaps he should’ve given us a shuttle that would not explode after interplanetary travel.” Aramiel spoke up, looking around. People were beginning to stare at them.

    “Right, we need to get out of this place…” Laylan trailed when she noticed a number of Gamorean thugs entering this closed off sector.

    “We’re in the refugee sector.” Lyreth smiled, recognizing this place. “We probably won’t draw attention at the catina. Let’s go there.”

    “Yes, a drink would do me wonders…” Laylan grinned, as the group filed out of that sector.


    The catina was fairly busy, and had all sorts of nasty looking creatures inside. A couple of robed individuals probably looked more like a strange group of monks rather than the long extinct Jedi. Though, Skyess was wary, the sorts that hung out in these sorts of places were usually not to be trusted. Of course, Skyess Ban had seen them all when she was owned by the filthy, horrid Hutt. She didn’t even remember the Hutt’s name, only that he had been close with Vogga, who ran the docks here. No doubt if Vogga found out she was here he’d try to repossess her just for revenge.
    Luckily, no one knew, other than Laylan, and Laylan had sworn not to tell a soul. So unless her sister was suddenly into spilling secrets, no one should know. Not even Master Vandar knew the full extent of what happened. It was better that way, she believed.

    “Should we continue with the main objective?” The Defel questioned, as they all sat down at a table in the farthest corner of the catina.

    Skyess bit her lip, trying to think of her answer. But the environment was so distracting, people all over seemed to either be minding their own business or having heating discussion. Being trapped in that Academy had really toned down her grasp on reality. Surrounded by the damned moral code and all had been driving her insane until the day Vandar had told her and the others they had been picked to leave.
    And now that Master Vandar believed they were dead, perhaps Skyess Ban could have a bit more freedom. She would probably still have to practice certain force techniques in secret, but her emotions could be allowed to show more, and enhance her combat technique greatly.

    ‘Maybe Revan had the right idea.’ She thought, though it startled her slightly. ‘Not in joining the dark side, but obtaining more freedom... No doubt she benefited from it, she got an entire army…’


    ~ . ~ . ~ . ~

    It begins! Everyone, if it wasn't obvious, get to the catina. Don't care how, just do please. Feel free to interact with other characters once your there! Have fun~

    And may the force be with you....


  2. #2
    Mew Master of SCIENCE! Master Trainer
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    Default Re: .:*Jedi's Creed*:. .:*It Begins*:.

    3946 BBY (Before Battle of Yavin)
    Name: Tracer
    Age: 14
    Sex: Male
    Race: Twi’lek
    Personality: No-nonsense attitude. Stupid people die fast in his life, so he has to be short, direct, and to the point. Tracer stays aloof from most other people, choosing to retreat to his quarters and work on some of his projects or hack his way through whatever computer system he comes across. Beyond this, he does have a deep respect for those who can prove themselves in combat, or some marginal intelligence. He is incredibly intelligent, and uses a combination of sharp words and dry wit to make his point clear. He’s very distrusting at first, but if someone can get past his distrust and wit, they have someone who can hack star systems should the need arise. Even so, he is still emotionally distant. He keeps away from the main-stream streets and cafes, keeping hidden as much as possible. If anyone crosses him or his allies, the consequences are worse than death. He holds true to the Warrior code of conduct and discipline, ready to yell at anyone who goes against everything the Twi’lek Warrior Society stands for.
    Appearance: Tracer stands about 5’3”, has orange eyes. His skin is a rare cobalt blue (rare for Twi’leks), and one of his lekku is draped on his right shoulder. Much of his clothing is ragged, torn, and looks like he’s had possession of it for years. He wears a set of interesting goggles by the strap around his neck. Along his belt are several pockets for gadgets, datapads, and extra memory files. He is always seen with a datapad in his hands, typing away. His skin seems hardened to the environment, while he doesn’t smell like he hasn’t cleaned up, he sure looks like it.

    Character is the young one on the Right.
    Occupation: Information dealer, specializing in crafting machines and hacking various computer systems.
    Weapon: Has one small blaster, however that is not his primary weapon. He has a cache of gadgets and devices that he prefers to use over blaster fire, however he is a good shot.
    History: Tracer doesn’t speak of his history much, any attempts to are met with a titanium resiliance. He arrived on Nar Shaddaa a few months ago and has already set up his hacking central. He seems to have a deep pocket, and much of his components for his computers and other components run the gambit from new to scrap. Has been preparing to move yet once again after being on Nar Shaddaa for what he refers to as “too long.”
    Other: Gadgets and other devices that Tracer makes constant use of.

    Omnitool: A set of tools compressed into a tool-of-all-trades, from screw-driver, to fusion cutter, to welder, this one tool can be used to modify, enhance, or dismantle almost any machine. Given enough time of course.

    Goggles: A pair of goggles that rest on his forehead much of the time. When needed he slides them down over his eyes. They have a wire-less connection to the datapad built into his arm, allowing for a faster display of the system he’s hacking into and best possible route, being able to run searches for desired information, more than what’s able to be displayed on his Datapad alone. The goggles also have modifications to magnify the area of any mechanical device that Tracer is working on, giving him more precision when repairing or creating devices. They are also able to scan the area around him, modified with sensor relays to allow him to see through the dark, heavy fog, and other vision obscuring elements (cannot see through objects), giving a read-out to his Datapad while displaying the area around him in green outlines so that he can see and move un-obstructed.

    Datapads: Tracer custom builds datapads for him and to sell for income. His datapads are considered the best in the galaxy, and those who use them recommend his services.

    Electronic Caltrops: After extensive work (and a few discharges), Tracer created several dozen sets of caltrops. However, these caltrops deliver an electric discharge when stepped upon. A sphere of carefully charging electricity is cradled inside with the four points of the caltrops pyramid-design holding it in place. When enough pressure is applied to the points the electricity discharges through to the object that set it off. This causes damage as well as possible numbness and paralysis. Tracer developed two different types, anti-personnel, and anti-droid. The anti-droid delivers an EMP charge that after penetrating the droid’s outer coating and connecting with the inner systems, renders the droid’s systems fried and non-functioning. The anti-personnel has two variations that can be reached after transmitting a frequency to the caltrops.

    Flash pellets: Compact flash pellets allow for a disorienting distraction. Like dozens of flashbulbs going off in their face. The effect is disorienting and temporary, and provides a convenient distraction. Similar to a Flash Grenade, but not as noticeable.

    Flash Grenade: Similar in design and appearance to a thermal detonator, however only delivers a blinding flash.

    Frequency Link: An uploaded comm.-link-sized object that is linked to many of Tracer’s constructed Object. This allows him to discharge the Blood Webs from a safe distance, and alter his Electric Caltrops as needed.

    Grappling hook rip-cords: Tracer’s modification of Grappling Hook blasters has made him come up with this little modification. The Rip Cords are connected to the Grappling Hook, and when the hook is fired up, the cord can stop the slack of the cord, and then can also self repel the wearer of the belt up. These are connected to the belt of the fierier, so that it does not run out and allows a person to scale a wall with little effort (considering Tracer has no physical stats). Tracer has two of these Rip Cords attached to each side of his belt, and a Grappling Hook ready at hand.

    Decoy, Utility Droid: Built nearly from scrap, Decoy (as Tracer calls ‘em) is the second half to the Tracer hacking team. Tracer uses him to act as a second router when hacking because while intelligent, Tracer can’t keep track of seven billion lines of code at once. Decoy has started to develop a personality, and Tracer keeps uploading the droid’s memory into various datapads for download into spare shells, each shell painted differently, and each shell with some slight modifications made to each.


    Tracer/Decoy
    3946 BBY
    ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

    Nar Shaddaa, a planet that is often called Little Coruscant. Filled to the brink with criminals, ex-soldiers, and refugees from the war over 10 years ago it is little more than a planet-wide slum. Built up from the planet’s surface, only the criminals lived in luxury. Everyone else was forced to scrap together what credits they had in order to feed themselves. Even good natured souls can succumb to degenerate acts when their lives are on the line.

    On one of levels in the refugee district, a small T-Series droid, barely even a meter in eight, used its repulsor lifts to maneuver through the sprawl. Decrepit droids were left alone, for no one had the money or resources to spend working on them. This one’s faded orange and white coloring, spastic movements, and incoherent audio meant the populace would leave it alone.

    Turning down an alley, covered with dirt, grime, scattered parts and other things not fit to be seen or smelt, the droid came up to a partially hidden door. Its motions became less spastic, and even corrected its repulsor engines to get a new sense of balance. The eyes turned around and scanned the alley behind him, and the area where it had turned. Thermo-optics, sonar, and other sensors confirmed that no one was following the droid. It went up to an aged keypad and inserted a computer jack into the terminal. After several seconds the door slid open with a hiss and the droid went inside.

    The door slid closed behind the droid and it scanned the room looking for someone.

    The room was large, with two other doorways leading to separate rooms. Spare parts and mechanical bits were scattered along the tables and any flat space. Used ration containers were stacked in the corner, threatening to fall over if anything else fell upon them. Three large holo-screens were lit up at the end of the room, between the other entry ways and displaying information about various events happening around the refugee sector of Nar Shaddaa. There was a small window of scheduled flights, complete with manifests and rosters of crew and passengers. Another monitored any news that happened around this little hovel. There was an audio playing of other transmissions between

    Hovel it was, and the droid continued not to understand why its master refused to clean up. Flashes of light came from one room, and the droid maneuvered its way over to the room. There, sitting in a chair was its master. A young Twi’lek was hunched over a desk, a fusion cutter in one hand and a circuit board in another. Intricate goggles covered his face, his own design that allowed him to see small details in the circuitry he was working on.

    The droid let loose with several chirps and whistles, getting the young one’s attention. He stopped using the fusion cutter, which left the room in darkness.

    “Lights,” he said, and fusion bulbs turned on above him, illuminating the room. If the larger room had just bits and pieces of machinery, then this looked like a shipyard scrap heap. Pieces of circuitry, machinery, and other electronic scraps littered the room, covering everywhere. There were a set of droid shells resting against one of the walls, empty, and lifeless. Waiting for the spark that the droid knew would be transferred.

    “I know it’s hard to explain,” the young Twi’lek responded, removing the goggles from his eyes and letting them rest against his collar bone. His skin was a cobalt blue, not rare for his species which made him blend in better. Orange eyes looked stained red with staring at the component he had been working on for the last few hours. “But I needed the lights off. My goggles could help me see in the dark. Did you get the parts?”

    He was greeted with another series of chirps and whistles as the T-series droid hovered over. A compartment opened and a small extension came forward holding a brand new microchip.

    “Excellent!” he exclaimed as he carefully picked up the chip with a pair of forceps. Carefully he placed it on the part he was working on, getting ready to continue his work. As he put his goggles back on, he heard the droid chip and whir at him.

    Tracer couldn’t truly read his droid’s mind, but he did have a datapad that the droid would transmit directly to and would translate the binary. Currently Decoy was getting concerned.

    “It’ll be okay Decoy,” Tracer replied. “I need to get this finished for our latest customer and then we can bug out of here.” Carefully he began to fuse the chip to the rest of the board. His tchun lekku was draped carefully over his left shoulder, making sure that the brain tail wasn’t damaged by his work.

    Finishing his work, Tracer clipped a cover back onto the circuit board and then flipped it over and turned it on. With a flash of electric blue, the datapad he had just finished sprung to life. It was very fast, not the fastest he had ever made, but it was faster than any other on the market. For the price for his services it was going to be worth it.

    Placing the datapad into a box he stood up and started to get basic supplies.

    He had to leave, and soon. For the last two months he has been on Nar Shaddaa, far too long. Even so, the news that Decoy had given him ate at the back of his mind.

    There are more wanted posters. Getting closer to our position.

    Damn, he cursed himself. He had been in this pit for too damn long. He had to get moving. Things were too complicated right now, and he had already barely managed to escape by the skin of his teeth too much already.

    Tracer double checked the flight roster. The next flight out wasn’t for a few more hours. Hours that he didn’t have. He would have to dip into his expenses to charter a faster flight out. Expenses he had, however massive withdraws would send red-flags through a lot of the banks that he had hacked, so he refrained from dipping into them too much, too often.

    “—gh. I repeat, th- sh-p is --ning u--n entry.” Came a garbled communication from the moniters.

    “Hmm?” Stopping his current mission, Tracer moved over to the three screens and sat down, his eyes scanning the moniters for information. “Decoy, try and get a clearer signal from this frequency.”

    The droid hovered over to the jack and interfaced with the computer. The droid muttered several sets of chirps as it concentrated on the signal. Tracer himself held the headphones to his ear, and focused his side of the signal.

    “The ship is burning up. Current trajectory is 762-289, estimated time to impact is less than a minute.” Came the voice over the comm.

    “Seven-six-two-dash-two-eight-nine?” his eyes widened. “That’s a few blocks from here! Damnit!”

    Quickly Tracer put his goggles on and connected to the holonet around the refugee area.

    “Decoy, I need a router. Mark 34-256 with a level three scramble.”

    The droid’s chirping reply didn’t confirm any thoughts.

    “I know it’s sudden, just do it.”

    The team of slicers worked their magic on the Refugee section of the holonet. Sending out a warning signal to anyone within range of the proposed impact. Time wasn’t on their side right now, but the more that Tracer tried, the more lives could be saved. He hadn’t heard what size or class of ship was going to crash so there was a chance that he could die in the impact. A clock counted down to the time of impact, 40 seconds remained and he and Decoy continued to work.

    As the clock started to wind down, he disconnected himself from the net and Decoy did the same. “Hang--*”

    The shockwave from the impact caused the lights and monitors to flicker, leaving the Twi’lek and the droid in the darkness for a minute. Decoy turned on a small flashlight that illuminated the room. Parts of the room had fallen apart, and made even a bigger mess. When the lights returned, Decoy shut off its light and Tracer went back to his monitors, waiting for the computer to reboot. As soon as the screens lit up he went back to work, making his way through the network to the outboard cameras that were positioned around the section.

    Images flowed in front of his eyes as he searched for the signs of the crash. Mentally keeping track of everything he saw and trying to pinpoint where exactly the crash was. After referencing the images of smoke rising from a crater and a map of the refuge district, he was able to pin them down.

    “It overshot the estimated mark by 1.3 kilometers,” he calmly stated. “Either they were able to keep it together for a bit longer or the space port is losing its touch.”

    Decoy chirped at the comment.

    “No. I wasn’t expecting them to volunteer to fly us out of here. Curse your droid logic.”

    Decoy just whistled.

    “Hmm?” Tracer watched the images, one showed a group beginning to gather around the wreckage. He zoomed in on the image and noticed that there was some movement. Several figures in robes were exiting the ship, rather hastily at that. Tracer moved the window so that he followed the figures as they moved away from the wreck. A flash of light illuminated everything off frame and Tracer angled the image back, but the connection was cut short as a piece of shrapnel flew through the air and cut out the image.

    Then the rumble came that vibrated his entire home and the echoing boom.

    “The ship self-destructed. And no one got outta the F@CKING WAY!” He threw a random piece of machinery to the ground and it clattered along the ground. He rested his head in his hands, frustrated with how some people acted, especially when a ship crashes and no one thinks to get the hell away.

    There was a set of long chirps and whistles from Decoy, which Tracer read on the datapad.

    Tracer sighed and started grabbing more things. “You’re right Decoy,” he said solemnly. “Grab some of the caltrops and flash grenades. I want to get what we can before we leave. Sell the stuff through the regular channels and deposit the money back into my accounts.”

    Several minutes later, Tracer and Decoy left their hovel, the Twi’lek covering himself in loose clothing that had several patches covering really big holes. Two sets of belts were wrapped around his waist. One for a blaster holster that he kept hidden but ready, and another that had some of his gadgets. He kept his lekku pulled back and covered his face with the cloak and wrapped the rest around him, trying to keep himself as inconspicuous as possible.

    “Come on Decoy,” he said, walking down the twisting alley towards the main street. “Let’s find a way out of here.”

    Tracer would be lucky if he could pass himself off as a tall Jawa. He knew several languages and could translate for someone. Astrogate travel wasn’t that complicated for him either, able to calculate hyperspace jump coordinates as fast as some droids and computers. Jawese wasn’t that hard, just so long as he kept his voice at a higher pitch.

    He was careful walking along the street, making sure Decoy was close enough to follow, but not draw attention to himself that he was actually the little droid’s owner. In all honesty Tracer never considered himself Decoy’s owner. In reality Decoy was more like family to the young Twi’lek.

    Making his way into a nearby cantina, Tracer scanned the bar. He was short for some, but he was still able to get inside since not many cared about who came in, so long as they paid the credit for the drinks. As he walked along, honing his ears to the conversations going on, he knew he had to find a pilot soon, and get off planet before… before the bounty hunters found him. Tracer was looking for a wanted poster with his face on it. Luckily the goggles on his face distorted it enough that he wasn’t that easily recognized, and he didn’t find such a poster.

    Breathing an inward sigh of relief, he continued to make his way through the cantina. He passed by several people sitting at a booth, each covered in robes. One of them looked like he had been walking behind a bantha and slipped. They weren’t any different than anyone else around the cantina. People with robes weren’t that rare. However the fact that this group all had robes, similar colored, and only one of them looked like they had been on bantha duty. Were they with some criminal organization? Bounty hunters? Tracer might be able to take them if he could get a lucky shot or two, but group vs. one wasn’t a fair fight.

    And so Tracer took a seat. Taking out his datapad he started checking for star ship manifests at the nearest dock. Careful to keep watch around him in case something happened.

    ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

    Yeah... sorry it's so long. I just got into a groove ^^U
    ~Mew Master

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    Bring your Battles to Life

    Mew Master on "Tracer" Well at least I make you happy with my character's impending downward mental spiral.


    We don't like reality... we Re-draw it!

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  3. #3
    WE ARE SEX BOB-OMB! Elite Trainer
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    Default Re: .:*Jedi's Creed*:. .:*It Begins*:.

    Name: Katrina (Kat) Maiya
    Age: 18
    Sex: Female
    Race: Human

    Personality: Kat, for the most part, epitomizes the teachings of the Jedi. She has complete control of her emotions, avoids conflict when possible, and minimizes harm when conflict is unavoidable. This does not mean that she is emotionless; on the contrary, her emotions are as varied as the colors of a rainbow, she just knows how to control them when she needs to.
    This is not to say she agrees with the Jedi Code completely. For starters, she believes a close bond with another is perfectly acceptable if the Jedi is a master of his/her emotions. She also sometimes has disagreements about when it is appropriate to kill a dangerous target versus merely incapacitating it, though if she is outranked by her debater, she will usually say nothing.
    Because of her emotional control, Kat is usually the one to end an argument between others. She is kind and caring, and she loves to assist others if needed. She also likes to make friends (though she usually calls them 'allies' around others in the Jedi order) and enjoys relaxing and having fun every now and then.

    Appearance: Kat is average for a human female, standing about 5'8" in height and with a skinny build that fools others into thinking her weak. Although skinny, she has a definite feminine form that attract attention when she wears anything but her Jedi robes (and even sometimes when she does). Her eyes are a silvery blue color, her skin is pale and blemish-free, and her straight, dirty-blond hair reaches to her shoulder-blades and is typically kept in a single ponytail. Her robes are a light tan color and, though loose, show her female form.

    Rank: Knight
    Lightsaber Style: One Single Blade and one Short Blade, both hand-crafted.
    Blade Color: Purple
    Mastered Form of Lightsaber Combat: Form VII: Juyo

    History: Katrina hails from Dantooine originally, and had already started Jedi training at the Jedi Enclave after being discovered at a very young age by Vandar. When the Sith launched their bombardment on the Jedi Enclave, Kat, already a Padawan by then, managed to flee successfully, and met up with Vandar after a short time. Vandar helped put her into hiding until he eventually brought her and other Jedi-hopefuls to the underwater base on Manaan.
    Before Vandar took her to Manaan, however, he brought her to Ilum so she could obtain the crystals needed for her to craft her lightsaber. She was able to find a couple rare Pontite, but as they were too small to be a base for an entire saber, she also collected some Mephite. Because she had already started training with two sabers, she collected enough to make two sabers. She spent most of the trip to Manaan researching how the crystals would react and how to appropriately piece them together to give her an effect she could utilize. She ended up using one Pontite in each saber, and the combination of the crystal types gave her sabers the uncommon purple color.

    Other: Katrina is very in tune with the Force, and spent years of practice on all the different lightsaber fighting forms, which now allows her to utilize the intense Juyo style of fighting, even with two sabers. She sometimes uses the Makashi style with just the Single Blade, and the Soresu style with just the Short Blade, but doesn't have mastery of either and usually sticks with Juyo even if she only uses one blade. She is close to Vandar, or at least as close to him as Vandar will let her be.

    ----------

    Katrina Maiya
    Female Human Jedi Knight
    Master of Juyo
    ~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~~
    A small leak isn't much of a problem, and hissing steam from the engine I can handle. But when practically the entire engine room is on fire, it makes it a little hard to stay calm, even with my years of training.

    "If this is your idea of 'touchy' then I'd hate to be anywhere near something you'd actually call dangerous," I commented to Laylan as we abandoned trying to keep the engine under control. She didn't respond, but did put on a slightly sheepish face.

    Suddenly we hit the atmosphere and the ship started to spin wildly. The gravitational stabilizers were starting to fail and I could feel the sense of weightlessness start to hit. Before all sense of up and down disappeared completely, I found my way to the cockpit where Skyess was almost in a state of panic. She probably didn't notice as I slipped into one of the seats and strapped myself in.

    That's when we saw the tower, a tower that we were definitely not going to miss. "Hold on to something!" Skyess's voice rang out, then she braced for impact.

    Calling on all the training I had received, I reached out into the Force and felt for the ship. It was too late to save it, but I could try and minimize the damage done to us. I had a fleeting thought to ask the others to help, but Skyess was too panicked and nobody else was nearby enough. Through the Force, the damage didn't seem quite as bad as it did from actually seeing the ship, but nonetheless I could tell that this ship wasn't going to fly again. I focused and kept as many pieces of the ship attached as I could, though the nose was too far gone for me to save it.

    Then without warning, we hit the ground, sending my mind racing back to my body and how shaken up I was. I looked around and saw Skyess crumpled on the ground; alive, but unconscious. I felt for the others and found that they were still moving, so I unstrapped myself and went to wake Skyess. But Lyreth appeared from the doorway, glanced at me, then went to Skyess and started shaking her awake.

    Instead I went to the rest of the ship to find the others. I found Aramiel soon enough and made sure he was conscious, but Laylan found me first. She had come running out of the engine room, covered with soot and ash and stuff, which gave me a bad feeling. Of course, her screaming "Get off the ship! Get off the ship!" repeatedly didn't help anything either.

    Aramiel and I ran towards the loading ramp and tried opening it. Of course it jammed halfway through opening, but we started clambering out, pushing the ramp more so we could fit. Lyreth joined us and we managed to get out.

    That's when the bad feeling turned into a really bad feeling. "Move!" I said to the other two, and the three of us ran towards where Skyess and Laylan were. We had just caught up to them when the ground practically turned on its side beneath me. It took all the balance I had to stay standing. Then the five of us all looked at the wreckage which had been our transport here.

    "Great..." Skyess grumbled. She turned the other way and was silent.

    "Vandar will believe we're dead," I said, and everyone looked at me. I shrugged, then explained, "That shuttle had a transponder on it; when the signal disappears, Vandar will assume we're dead."

    "Perhaps he should've given us a shuttle that would not explode after interplanetary travel," Aramiel commented, then looked around. I did as well, and saw that we were starting to attract some unwanted attention.

    We eventually decided to find the cantina, as it would be the least suspicious place for us to go and remain a group. Sure enough, when we got to the cantina I saw that there were a lot more shady characters than a group of five robed people. We took a table in the back, then glanced around, remaining silent for a while.
    SteamID: virtualplay
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    VirtualPlay: they were checking your age so they could legally allow the guys to ogle you?
    ChobiChibi: yeah I guess XD

  4. #4
    The destroyer of worlds Elite Trainer
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    Default Re: .:*Jedi's Creed*:. .:*It Begins*:.

    Name: Braig O’Malley
    Age: 20
    Sex: Male
    Race: Human
    Personality: From a first meeting, you’d see Braig as a laid back, cocky, if not slightly arrogant, trickster who knows how to take advantage of a situation. A smooth talker and sometimes sarcastic, he has a sort of charismatic, boyish charm. However, underneath his cool calm exterior lies his distrust to others. Due to incidences in his past, he finds it difficult to grow close to someone and believes that making friends and relying on others will eventually screw you over in the end.
    Appearance: Standing at 6 foot with a lean, yet well toned build. He has platinum blonde hair, partially covering the right side of his face, and while his right eye is covered with a crimson bandana, the other is a deep copper. His face has a youthful, roguish charm to it, despite the bandana covering his eye. For clothing, Braig wears a black, turtleneck undershirt, a crimson jacket over it, matching his bandana, cream coloured pants, black boots and brown, fingerless gloves.
    Occupation: Smuggler
    Weapon: duel Westar-34s, light and easy to use in a gun-fight.
    History: Born to a pair of refugees on Nar Shaddaa, Braig spent most of his younger years in the Refugee Sector, watching the Exchange (and when they crumbled, the next big crime syndicate) enforcers make their lives a living heck. At the age of 16, he was given the opportunity to join them was became a member of a team of smugglers working for the syndicate. They became like a family to him as they smuggled weapons, spice, wildlife and even slaves across the galaxy.

    However, his make-shift family would crumble. On a job to smuggle some Bomas from Onderon to the crumbling restoration project on Telos. One of their own, who Braig considered to be his brother, had reported them into the Onderon authorities (even to this day, Braig has no idea why he did it). There was a gunfight on their ship and the Bomas broke loose in the resulting chaos. Braig saw members of his ‘family’ being killed before sustaining injury in his right eye, blinding it. Much to his horror, the surviving members of his group fled, leaving him for dead, and even though he managed to escape the conflict, he was left a bitter man. He didn’t bother to return to the syndicate, though since they believed him to be dead, that didn’t cause any problems. He struck out on his own, refusing the accept help from others, believing he’ll just be betrayed again. He’s managed to be quite successful.
    Other: He always enjoys a good game of Pazaak and is a pretty good player.

    Braig O’Mally – Nar Shadaa – Cantina
    ----------------------------------------------
    It was often risky for him to return to Nar Shadaa, having severed all ties with his former organization, yet returning to their main base of operations. All it took was one person to recognize him before he’d have the syndicate dogging him to return to work, or trying to kill him for bailing on them.

    A small smirk spread across on the one eyed smuggler’s lips. It would be fun seeing how many members of his former ‘family’ came crawling back after the incident years ago, and then making them all pay one by one.

    Taking a sip of his Juma Juice, he leaned back in his chair, his duel Westars hanging limply by his sides. No one seemed to notice them and if they did, nobody cared. Almost everyone and their granny had a weapon on this moon. It was nothing special really.

    Nothing special was happening today. The usual thugs getting drinks and conversing, the occasional peddler walking around trying to discretely sell the patrons stolen droid parts or some other junk. There were also a couple playing Pazaak, and, by the looks on one of the player’s faces, someone was either cheating, or someone was a very sore looser. Braig couldn’t help but chuckle as an argument broke out, but groaned in annoyance when security dragged them out. And just when it was getting good too.

    Braig sighed. Oh well. If he had come for fun, he wouldn’t be simply hanging around here now would he? He’s probably be blowing his money at the woop races.

    That’s when they caught his eye.

    There were five of them, all doning identical robes. It wasn’t just the robes that caught his eye, the Jawas of Tatooine all wore robes. No, it was the fact that they were human (or pretty much every other species) sized and wearing robes.

    Could they be monks or something? No, why would monks come to Nar Shadaa, of all places? Were they fellow smugglers or criminals, trying to hide themselves and divert attention.

    A wolfish smile spread across Braig’s face. If they were trying to remain inconspicuous, they were doing a very poor job of it.

    He took another sip of his drink, his one eye glancing over at the five inconspicuously. Call it a guess, call it a hunch, but Braig had a feeling those five were going to make things very interesting for him.

    He didn’t get up from his table, but continued to cast an eye on the five as he drank, making sure no one noticed him staring.
    I'm in your dimensions, screwing with your reality!


  5. #5
    why wub woo Moderator
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    Default Re: .:*Jedi's Creed*:. .:*It Begins*:.

    Name: Ordorous Axmir
    Age: 34
    Sex: Male
    Race: Mandalorian (with heavy implants)
    Personality: Ordorous, like many Mandalorians, is an angry, violent, bitter man, a shell of the formerly glorious warrior he once was. He has a grudge against both Jedi and Sith and is not a big fan of the Republic either. He now works only for himself and the highest bidder. He has little feelings for anyone. However, he can take a joke, loves the thrill of battle and is quite a social man, even if all he says is cocky or insulting.
    Appearance: A large man, around 6 feet 2 in height and quite muscular. He has long brownish/black hair and dark eyes. He often sports thick stubble. He wears goggles around his forehead and wears a dark green tank-top and black trousers with black army boots. His trousers are held up by black suspenders. His lower left arm was blown off a while back and was replaced with a droid's limb. He has several implants of his body and some of his leg muscles and tendons have been replaced with droid parts. He also has an implant over his right eye that glows red when active, which he is otherwise blind in. He will also wear his Mandalorian armour over his torso if he is about to do battle.
    Occupation: Pirate/Mercenary
    Weapon: He carries a vibroblade and a heavy repeater rifle. His droid arm houses his Mandalorian military-issue flamer and whipcord. The droid arm is also fitted with an electrical charge, enabling him to stun opponents at close-range.
    History: A favourite of Mandalore the Ultimate, he often had dreams of grandeur and maybe becoming Mandalore some day. During the Mandalorian War, he was commissioned to form a special unit to find and kill Jedi who joined the war. His unit were armed with many anti-Jedi weapons and were trained in melee combat. Indeed, they bested many Jedi in their time.

    Ordorous was not present at the Battle of Malachor V and thus it came as a shock to him to discover the entire Mandalorian army had been defeated in one fell swoop. With their vision lost and their morale damaged, the unit became a band of pirates, hunting up and down undefended trade routes and dealing with the Exchange. However, one fateful day would cause their ship to be intercepted by a Sith ship hunting for Bastila. They resisted the Sith troopers while they prepared to escape the hangar and many of their men were lost. Ordorous himself was badly wounded by heavy blaster fire and was brought back to the ship. One of his men had salvaged a broken droid from the Sith and used parts of the droid to make implants for Ordorous to replace the parts of his body he lost. However, they had no idea that this droid was a special Jedi-hunting droid made to kill Bastila, constructed with the Dark Side energy within the Star Forge.
    Other: Nope.

    ---

    Ordorous Axmir

    "Ordorous! Wh...what are you doing here?!" whimpered the Rodian.

    Ordorous had cornered him in a back alley, grabbing the datapads that the Rodian had in his possession.
    "You, Jeelo, should of all people know how ruthless the Hutts can be. Natta had your brother killed in front of your own eyes, after all."
    Jeelo, his hand shaking, reached for his blaster pistol, but Ordorous effortlessly kicked it out of his hand and then crushed his hand under his boot.
    "Please! I'll pay you double!"
    "Ha! I know damned well you don't have that much money. Considering Natta is giving me 2000 for this job, plus whatever I get on the way, you'd need to have at least 5000."
    "Okay! I'll sell my ship! I'll-AIEE!"
    A swift blast from Ordorous' blaster blew Jeelo's head clean off, leaving a smouldering stump in its place.
    "Let that be a lesson not to sell secrets, ya bastard."

    Ordorous picked up the datapads and then keyed in a number into his wristplate, opening up communications.
    "Kilesh, tell your boss that Jeelo has been taken care."
    There was a humming of voices for a brief moment, then a reply came.
    "What of the datapads?"
    "I'm holding them here."
    "Destroy them."
    Ordorous dropped them on the ground and blasted them, leaving no trace.
    "Done."
    "Excellent. Feel free to return anytime to receive our gratitude."
    "Will do."

    Ordorous sighed and reached into the corpse's pocket. There was only a small credit chit and a landing bay permit. If it wasn't for the substantial bounty, it was hardly worth the effort for a man of his skills. He spied a nearby cantina and decided to head inside for a drink. Although they did not serve any Black Ale, particularly rare nowadays since the fall of Mandalore, there was an enjoyable firewhiskey to be had. As he sipped away at this, he took a brief look around the cantina. He recognised a couple from the old Exchange crew, but decided it was no time for formalities. Interestingly enough, there were a group of Jedi. Many of the people in the bar did not recognise them, but Ordorous had been in battle with so many that he knew their distinct style and stance. However, that was then and this is now; there was nothing to gain by harassing the winners of that war.

    Ordorous' thoughts were interrupted by two Rodians who stepped up to his booth.
    "Ordorous, rumour has it you fried poor Jeelo."
    Ordorous eyed them both and then took a sip of his drink.
    "News sure travels fast. What are you, his cousins?"
    They both snorted and one spoke up.
    "You'd better be careful what you say. Those datapads were worth a lot of money to us. Natta has a lot of enemies."
    "Listen twerps, I don't care who you are but you have 3 seconds to piss off before..."
    At that moment one of the Rodians pulled his blaster on him. Ordorous laughed and said,
    "Oh boy, you sure picked the wrong day to piss me off."
    Quote Originally Posted by Lady Vulpix
    You have turned my vacation thread into a discussion about Heald's balls. You should be ashamed of yourselves.




  6. #6
    Master Trainer
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    Default Re: .:*Jedi's Creed*:. .:*It Begins*:.

    Name: Verga
    Age: 95
    Sex: Female
    Race: Fosh
    Personality: Verga like others of her species is a listener above anything else. She’s manipulative and usually uses her skill with words and information she has collected from listening to gain the advantage. She detests fighting as well as confrontation since her species is frail by nature.
    Appearance: Fosh are frail birdlike creatures with thin necks, she has a beak for a mouth that stretches out, and multicolored feathers fanned out over her head in the back. Like This. She has three claw like fingers on each hand, as well as two toed claw feet. She wears a multi layered brown silk robe, which sleeves extend all the way to her clawed hands. On the side of the sleeves are long pieces of cloth that hang off.
    Occupation: Senator/Negotiator
    Weapon: Small hidden blaster pistol in her robe
    History: Fosh tend to hide as a species, only a few have ever been seen in the Galaxy, and Verga was the first ever Senator for the Fosh. She has slowly worked her way up the rungs of the Senate, becoming a small senator on a Jedi Oversight committee during the Mandalorian conflict. There she learned to detest the Jedi, believing that they were more of a threat to the Republic, and wanted more control over the Jedi, possibly even disbanding the order and merging them into the regular military.

    After the Jedi were believed to be destroyed, Verga pounced on the opportunity, becoming an influential senator and negotiator believing now that the final obstacle to peace had been removed. She soon brokered several armistices although they were never kept, and the fighting would only stop for mere weeks or months before starting up again.
    Other: She absolutely detests the Jedi, seeing them as being no better than the Sith, she does not believe in either the Light Side or the Dark Side, and believe that the Force is just another weapon and that the Jedi are a order of government sanctioned mercenaries.


    Verga

    The flowform chair, which Verga perched on, seemed to wobble a bit, as if the repulsors were slightly off. It was just one small bit of minor irritation that seemed to pry on her mind. Her species was a patient one, so the hours upon hours wait didn’t annoy her as much as the room she was placed in. The dull grays, and the soft blues that illuminated the walls were as disgusting as they were drab. Each time she would visit one of these rooms, it was like a slap in the face, a reminder at how disgustingly boring the sith’s artistic skills were when it came to painting military complexes.

    The doors behind her opened softly, the heavy metal footsteps of a sith officer approached her. “Senator Verga?” The officer, no the Sith Captain addressed her, it was more of a statement than a question seeing how they had already scanned her. Not to mention the smugness in his voice, could only come from some one that had adequately crawled his way through the Sith ranks. “May I ask why you were traveling to Nar Shaddaa?”

    Verga turned slowly, her eyes matching his as she cocked her head to her side curiously. “I am seeking a Splicer, now may I ask why you detained a civilian ship?” She replied, the information as to why she was traveling to Nar Shaddaa was no real secret; it was what she was going to do with the Splicer. To hack into the Holonet and find out how much faith the Sith were placing in the latest set of negotiations, if it truly could be the next stepping stone to end the war.

    “I have the right to detain any ship that enters Sith..” The egotistical captain began, only to be cut off as Verga drew in a long breath, ruffling her crest feathers for a moment before smoothing them.

    “Nar Shaddaa nor any other planet in this system is in Sith space though.” She pointed out, hopping down from the chair as if she were planning to walk right out of the room, past the Sith guards at the door, and back on to the shuttle.

    The captain’s face twitched, turning several colors of red as Verga passed him. “I will detain any ship I want.” The captain spat, a drop of spittle landing at Verga’s clawed feet.

    “I would reconsider those words captain, taking any military action in this sector is against one of the treaties the Sith hold with the Republic. I would know I helped negotiate it.” She held a hand up to stop the Governor from talking, her eyes darting toward the door as a slight hint of anger rose in her voice. “Abducting civilian ships with out cause is also against the treaty.”

    She paused, stepping to the entrance of the doorway, to find the door locked. “To avoid any, ‘incidents’ lets just say that we were guests of the mighty Sith Empire while you graciously inspected our ship for any malfunctions.”

    Several hours later the transport was finally on it’s way again, the passengers clearly annoyed from the amount of time they spent detained on the Sith vessel. Verga remained in the back of the ship, trying to remain as inconspicuous as possible, well as inconspicuous a fosh possibly could.

    Treaties were being violated daily, armistices were not worth the flimsiplast that they were written on. She had to know what the Sith knew, she had to find some way to create a lasting peace. Or else everything she had worked for, every inch of peace that she had pushed both sides toward, would be lost.

  7. #7
    A serious brain-f*** Advanced Trainer
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    Default Re: .:*Jedi's Creed*:. .:*It Begins*:.

    Name: Lyreth Kafir
    Age: 18
    Sex: Female
    Race: Human Personality: Her personality is the reason for her style of combat. Lyreth loves to be in the thick of things, especially fighting. She’ll take on any challenge anywhere and she HATES to lose, making her a difficult opponent. Rigorous training has helped her to calm her mind and although she is rash to accept the prospect of battle, once involved she is very thoughtful and calculated in her movements. That is, unless she’s losing. If she thinks she’s in trouble she tends to ignore her mind and follow her instincts and emotions. As long as a balance between the two is maintained, then she often prevails, but as she has learnt on more than one occasion, letting her emotions get the better of her can often lead to failure. It’s a lesson she still hasn’t fully learned yet. That aside, Lyreth has a love of life. She is fascinated by the worlds beyond Manaan as well as the unique species each one has to offer. She is never one to sit back and watch and learns best from doing. It is a characteristic that has lead to many mistakes in the past but one that has resulted in a greater understanding of both her and the force. Her connection with the Force isn’t as strong as many of the others she has trained with but she has learned to make the best of what she has and to strengthen it far beyond her master’s expectations. Her weakness is her enthusiasm. She is proud of what little ability she has and so uses often – even when it is unnecessary to do so. It makes her stronger but is considered ‘wasteful’ by her teacher.
    Appearance: Lyreth acquired many of her mother’s attributes. She has short raven hair cut into a ponytail that ends halfway down her neck and her eyes are a soft shade of pale green. She also has her mother’s build, a tall slender body with the right amount of muscle to make her athletic. In total, she stands at 5’10, taller than the average woman but no giant. She prefers wearing Jedi robes because they conceal her figure (and she hates to show it off) but on occasion will wear ‘normal’ clothes, though these will always consist of something baggy and usually dark in colour.
    Rank: Knight
    Lightsaber Style: 2 Single Blade
    Blade Colour: Purple
    Mastered Form of Lightsaber Combat: Ataru
    History: Lyreth was born on Nar Shaddaa, to a man firmly placed high within the ranks of the Exchange. She never knew her mother but never had time to care as she was too busy enjoying the life her father’s position presented her with. Lyreth learnt everything she needed to know from her father. Basically; how to think fast, dodge death, and above all things, never, ever, lose. The streets of Nar Shaddaa were Loreto’s playground and the beauty of it all was that the Exchange’s control of the city, left her practically untouchable.
    She ran with various crowds, picking fights with whoever happened to be unlucky enough to be near them at the time. It all changed in a Heartbeat. When She was seven, Lyreth made Her way home from yet another successful gang war. Nothing was different. She was a little beaten and a little bloodied but living on Nar Shaddaa made you an outcast if you weren’t scarred or deformed somewhere. So She was surprised when Her father took one look at her, scrunched up Her face in anger and dragged her inside whilst cursing her for being out so long. Lyreth was confused, the word “curfew” had never existed before that night.
    She was presented to a tall and attractive woman with raven hair and the softest eyes She had ever seen. Lyreth knew that She would never forget the first time She saw Her mother. Especially because, it was going to be Her last. An hour later the house was raided by masked men armed with guns. Lyreth was tucked into a secret room and handed a lightsaber by Her mother with the promise that She should keep it with her no matter what. Maybe she thought she could hide who she was that way. But it didn’t work. Lyreth’s parents were murdered and their house burned to ashes. Lyreth escaped through an underground hatch built into the secret room and found sanctuary in one of the city’s many abandoned buildings. She mourned Her parents. Went to sleep. Then got up the next morning and got on with Her life.
    Lyreth had learned about survival and she wasn’t about to waste the sacrifice of Her parents. She stuck to the shadows, moving quickly about the city and stealing only what she needed in order to avoid drawing attention to herself. At night She tried to teach herself how to use what Her mother had left for her and quickly grasped the simple basics. Being a master wasn’t on the agenda. Not being killed was.
    Then one day, Lyreth made a mistake that would change Her life forever. She tried to rob a seemingly helpless old man who somehow managed to catch her in the act. Panicked, Lyreth pulled out her lightsaber and threatened her captor. Her attempt to frighten her captor failed and he simply stared at her. The man turned out to be Master Vander, who offered Lyreth the chance of a better life. An offer she hastily accepted. She was taken to Manaan with another girl of a similar age though their sometimes strained relationship didn’t develop until much later in life.
    Vander was eventually able to convince Lyreth to build her own lightsaber and its the one she always uses. She keeps her mother’s with her but never uses it, preferring to have it more as a keepsake than an actual weapon.
    Other: none



    Lyreth

    ~~~~~~



    Things were...interesting.

    So I was back in Nar Shaddaa - the floating turd of a planet I'd sworn never to come into contact with again - and best of all, we were stuck on this rotting dung-pile.

    We'd manage to steer ourselves into a cantina - the top spot for the run-down buzzards too poor or sensible to go to the races (rarely the latter) and yet probably the best place for us to be, given our current situation.

    “Should we continue with the main objective?”

    "We have no choice. If Vandar believes that we are dead then the best chance we have of proving otherwise is to continue as planned. He would not give up hope on us lightly and he is more likely to pick up on our actions if we follow his orders."

    "Should we try to contact him?" Kat, ever the rationalist. She'd brought an end to many of the arguments between Skyess and I. Our weapons had dealt with the rest.

    "Too risky," replied Laylan.

    "I agree," I added. "Everyone here's out to backstab everyone else; it's almost impossible to find a secure method of contact. Besides, we don't want to draw any more attention to ourselves than we already had."

    I caught Skyess glaring at me from the corner of my eye.

    "I wasn't just referring to your graceless nosedive. Look at us. All in robes. Travelling in a group. Not to mention we are the only ones in the cantina not drinking."

    A few mouths opened to argue some point that would help them save face but I was already on my feet. "I'll take care of it." I looked at Skyess. "You gonna give me hand?" The "no" in her expression was pretty clear. "Fine. Come on Aramiel," I practically dragged him to his feet by the collar of his robe. "I can't carry them all by myself."

    I didn't order anything ridiculous but I had to prove that we were serious about drinking to try and steer at least some attention away from us. If we were lucky, they would just think we'd been debating over what to order and think nothing about our delay. Hopefully...

    Aramiel, quiet as usual, helped me carry the drinks back to the table and distribute them amongst the group. Skyess went to take a drink and I snatched it away from her, passing it to Laylan instead. "Here," I passed her an unusual-coloured drink in a tin mug. "Something easy for you to handle."

    She snatched the drink back from Laylan. “I can handle anything,” she said sternly and took a strong swig.

    I just shrugged and passed the second drink across to Laylan before starting on my own. It had been a long time since I’d been able to get my hands on a thick mug of the planet’s finest. Of course, I’d been much younger then, and the effects of alcohol on a child’s mind had been much more substantial. Still – I grinned as I remembered – that had never been of concern to me.

    Glancing round quickly I was relieved to find that the tactic had paid off – for the most part it seemed. The majority of eyes had been cast aside although one or too still lingered on our group. Few were of notice but one especially was of interest. You wouldn’t know to look at him that he had even the slightest interest in our group but there was no doubt that that single eye of his was watching us carefully. I was almost amused. Perhaps that childhood here wasn’t wasted after all. And what was this strange feeling I had that I just didn’t seem able to shake off?

    “So what’s our next move?” asked Laylan. It was one of those questions that was just kinda thrown into the air and left to the fates as it fell. The fates being us in this instance.

    “We need a ship,” said Kat.

    Aramiel merely nodded.

    “But it will be hard to find someone here we can trust.”

    “There’s no such thing as ‘trust’ here. We will have little luck obtaining a ship by ‘honourable’ means.”

    “So what do we do?”

    “We wait.” I was aware of the eyes watching me but I didn’t see them directly, my gaze was focused too strongly on the two Rodians about to square off against a Mandalorian. It was obvious they didn’t stand a chance. The Mandalorian’s prowess could be felt from here whilst all the Rodians had was the definite stench of fear wrapped in the illusion of courage. I turned to the others and smiled. “Hold on to your drinks. Thinks are just about to get interesting.”
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  8. #8
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    Default Re: .:*Jedi's Creed*:. .:*It Begins*:.

    Sign Uppers Laylan Burgundi/Shien

    A talent for understatement is an annoyance to everyone around you, as they constantly wonder if they should fear for their life. Yet at the same time, it may truly only be a minor problem. You can never be sure, especially with a Jedi.

    "The Hyperdrive is a bit... Touchy."

    Laylan noted how all three of Skyess' lekku twitched. Evidently she was getting better at reading the nuances in Laylan's voice. This was a good thing, as Laylan would rather not alarm the rest of the crew. To her they all seemed rather young, and grandmothers did not alarm their grandchildren. Or that was how she was reasoning it in her mind anyway. However Skyess had fallen more into the sister branch and so she could be alarmed somewhat and (Laylan assumed) be able to handle it.

    "Touchy?"

    Laylan noted the slight worry and nervousness in the word. She was pleased Skyess had gotten her message.

    "A might bit."

    Just then the engine proceeded to have what Laylan would call a 'hissy fit.' She turned and promptly left, silently cussing the engine and the ship in as many ways as she could. She even threw in a bit of Sand People because their curses were . . . inventive.

    When she got back, Katrina was there, try to fix the engine, or at least get it more under control.

    She gave Laylan a look of disbelief as the engine room was very close to be inhabitable.

    "If this is your idea of 'touchy' then I'd hate to be anywhere near something you'd actually call dangerous,"

    Laylan gave a bit of a sheepish face and started to jerry-rig what was already jerry'd out engine. With some use of the Force she shoved the flames away from Katrina and herself, and tried to do something.

    Just then they hit atmo. Nearly immediately the ship started to shake madly and actually cussed something out loud, though she couldn't say what at the time as she finally admitted there was no more she could do and grabbed the engine with the Force. She held the thing together, sacrificing her shield until she could feel the heat pulsing around her, and herself becoming dusted with ash and other bunt stuff floating around. At some point Katrina had disappeared and Laylan grabbed the engine supports to hold herself in place.

    It didn't quite work as she found herself horizontal as they were spinning and then with they hit something, she was flung to the ground. She groaned and the lights went out, but blessedly, the flame control system finally came on. They bounced and smashed some more, Laylan handing on desperately to whatever it was around her, her mind focused on keeping the engine intact, because if it went while it was running, this moon might have a new crater.

    Finally it ended. Laylan still had no lights, and she was pretty sure she was one long bruise but she ignored it to lurch to her feet and shut of the engine. She blinked and it took her a bit to kick start her brain and understand that the engine light blinking meant it was in process of self-imploding...

    "Illegitimate child of a Bantha's rear! It WOULD take a Gamorrean to produce you and a Jawa jumped up on Tarisain ale to compute! A Rancor dying of thirst on Mannan is smarter this piece of HK, death happy, suicide switch!"

    She snorted, straightened and fixed her very blackened robes, before turning and running down the aisle.

    "Get off the ship, get of the ship, get off the ship, get off the ship-"

    She noticed Skyess in the cockpit but Lyreth was helping her so she peered at the hole in the glass and judged it large enough. She leaped and dove through the hole, her robes somehow not getting caught in the glass. She hit the nose in a roll and tumbled of it to the ground, landing in a crouched position.

    She had just moved out of the way when Skyess came out of the same window in a rather undignified way. She hulled her to her feet and frogmarched her away from the ship as fast as she could manage. Which was pretty fast as Laylan was in reality panicking beneath her calm exterior and it gave her a boost in strength she normally didn't have.

    She knew the others had gotten off and were also rapidly moving away from the ship when it finally blew. Laylan turned and watched as a number of people also became airborne and winced.

    She sighed and shoved it away for later, especially after she seen the Gamorrean thugs shoving their way through the crowd. She said as much and they dicided to go to a nearby cantina.

    “Yes, a drink would do me wonders…” she said, forcing a grin on her face.

    They went in and chatted for a bit, low and Laylan gave a brief sweep of the room but since no one was overly aggressive, dismissed them and listened in. She made a few comments and they basically decided to continue with the mission, fine by Laylan but she really wanted one of those drinks.

    Finally Lyreth and Aramiel went to get them. Lyreth thankfully passed something she recognized as very strong (she'd stopped here a few times on runs) but it was quickly snatched away by Skyess. She flashed her a quick glare but took the weaker one without comment. She downed it before getting the bar keepers attention and ordering another, but stronger.

    They talked about getting a ship when Lyreth noted the Mandalorian and two Rodians in the corner.

    “Hold on to your drinks. Thinks are just about to get interesting.” Laylan looked at them and smirked, taking a sip and getting ready to duck if necessary.
    Whoot.
    *Dad talking about his filling.*
    PL: Did it fall out?
    Dad: Yeah! ****in' thing only lasted two days.
    PL: Huh.
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    He just stops.
    ...
    *hilarity ensues*

    Mom: We're one warped family.
    *through hiccups*
    PL: I didn't know you were that flexible!

    Winner of five Awards in RPG, including Best Writer.
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  9. #9
    Mew Master of SCIENCE! Master Trainer
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    Default Re: .:*Jedi's Creed*:. .:*It Begins*:.

    Tracer/Decoy
    3946 BBY
    ~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

    The cantina continued to bustle with activity as Tracer sat and held a datapad in his hand. His goggles were over his eyes, making his image seem off. One circular lens and a square one didn’t compliment each other, but the device served its purpose.

    A scowl came across the Twi’lek’s face as he searched through the spaceport’s records. Every flight was either straight freight, or completely booked, and he didn’t want to risk hacking into the program and getting caught when the actual passengers on the flight showed up. Despite this set back, he kept searching. Working his influence through the local holonet and computer systems.

    He searched through local hangers, possibly to find a ship that wasn’t on the ports registry, but also able to ferry him to another system, away from Nar Shadda, and somewhere for him to set up his operation once again.

    His fingers worked the datapad, and Decoy developed part of its memory for him to use in hacking through the local network.

    “Hmm?” he said to himself as he noticed something in the flow of information passing by his eyes. He concentrated harder, pinning down the information. The information was encoded, but he wasn’t the best hacker in the galaxy for nothing.

    His current plight pushed to the back burner, Tracer’s fingers danced in a blur as he decoded the information, accessing it without leaving a trace. Isolated, he examined the file in closer detail.

    A ship! By the Force he had found a ship! He started to skim over the information when shouting caught his attention.

    Raising his head to see, but also keeping his face hidden, he watched as a Mandalorian faced off against two Rodians. Tracer watched as the seasoned warrior fought the two, and won. It wasn’t surprising, Mandalorians were skilled fighters, even though they had lost the war years ago, they were still feared and admired.

    He looked back at the datapad, counting on Decoy to keep an eye on the possible fight that might break out. This was more important at the moment than some squabble between Rodians and the Mandalorian.

    The ship was called the Ebon Hawk, and it has been in a hanger several blocks away for ten years! The transistors on that thing have to be 6 upgrades behind! Tracer thought. But still…

    “We need a ship.”

    Tracer’s ears perked up as he heard those words, mimicking his own thoughts. He turned his head towards the source of the phrase. The group of robed individuals with the one dressed like he had crawled through a sewer duct was conversing amongst themselves. Had they? Yeah, it had to have been them.

    He continued to type on the datapad, gathering what information he could. Everything was going well, until he found a bit of information that sent a chill up his spine. This ship, this fossil of a ship was currently owned by Vogga the Hutt, the same Vogga that controlled part of a syndicate that operated around this area of Nar Shadda.

    At least he doesn’t get that far from home…

    Looking more into the information Tracer found out some more information reguarding the Ebon’s state of repair. The ship, according to the records he had been able to hack, referred to it as cursed. Bringing misfortune to those around it. Bah, Tracer only thought about making his own way, curse or no curse. It was a way off planet. But how to get it away from the greedy Hutt’s hands?

    Hutts were notorious for being greedy, sneaky, manipulative bastards, much like Tracer’s own species. Tracer could hack ownership of the ship away from the Hutt, but that would bring more trouble than its worth. He could even try negotiating a deal with the crime lord, he had enough experience bartering, but even that was riskier than just stealing the damn thing. Another option was to empty his personal funds and buy the ship, but that would leave him with an artifact ship, little safety, and no one to pilot.

    He started to formulate a plan when he heard the shriek of a Rodain being flung through the air. Glancing up, Tracer jumped out of the way as the humanoid slammed into the table he was sitting at, causing the wood to splinter and spray the surrounding area. Tracer rolled back to his feet, mocked slightly by the surrounding patrons at the fight. Okay, so that was one Rodian down, was the other one already down or still up and kicking? He looked up and watched and saw both the Mandalorian and Rodian toe-to-toe. Best to let them fight each other and stay out of it.

    Cautiously, he moved up to the table where the robed figures sat.

    “Excuse me,” he said, using a combination of Galactic basic and Jawese to hide his age. “But may I sit here?”

    The group looked at him with suspicion, that was to be expected. But Tracer needed to gain their trust or at least their cooperation if their goals were the same.

    “Why would you want to?” said a female voice, stern, blunt, and to the point.

    Tracer grabbed a chair from behind him and sat at the edge of the table. Those seated tensed up. They were larger than he was, but size rarely matters.

    “Because I have some information that you may find interesting.” He started reaching for his datapad and the group tensed. “It is okay. I am unarmed, but you may want to look at this.”

    Placing the datapad on the table, Tracer tried to watch for the group’s reaction. It could vary from joy, to suspicion, to confusion, and he wanted to be ready for anything.

    “You all and I have one thing in common,” he said keeping his head low but leaning in so that they could hear him. “We’re looking for a ship to get off of Nar Shadda. And this Hutt, has one. It’s old, been unused for the last decade, and more than likely can’t make it off planet without a miracle or three.”

    Tracer sat there, unsure of the group’s reaction. One thing was for sure, if they wanted to get off planet as bad as he did, he wasn’t one for looking a gift-bantha in the mouth.
    ~Mew Master

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    Mew Master on "Tracer" Well at least I make you happy with my character's impending downward mental spiral.


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  10. #10
    ♥ <(^o^)> ♥ Advanced Trainer
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    Default Re: .:*Jedi's Creed*:. .:*It Begins*:.

    Skyess Ban

    Skyess couldn’t decide whether to believe the twi’lek or not. The Datapad said that he did have a ship in mind, but as she, Laylan and Katrina read it over, it appeared that the said ship was cursed; a wreck, needed repairs, and of all other things, owned a hutt! Vogga who was a gangster much like the hutt who had died in a horrible and unexplainable accident. The hybrid didn’t say anything as the datapad was passed around to the others

    “Who are you?” Lyreth questioned as the rest of the group pondered over the idea.

    “I am known simply as Tracer, someone spawned from the shadows of the holonet...”

    Skyess looked at the boy for a minute, trying to think whether or not to take this boy seriously. She had questioned it before, but with that introduction, it hadn’t exactly settled anything concrete. She didn’t dare speak, only listen as the others offered they point of view. They varied as well, sarcastic comments, to actual insight Skyess pondered.

    “We need a ship that’s guaranteed to at least fly, even the shuttle had that.” Lyreth snarled, “This Ebon Hawk probably can’t even do that.”

    “What about it’s navicomputer?” Laylan spoke up. “What goods a ship that can’t-“

    “It knows the coordinates to Tatooine.” Tracer interrupted. “I’ve already forseen that problem, believe me.”

    “Why Tatooine?” Lyreth questioned.

    “Why not? It’s a Hutt’s ship of course, probably went on smuggling runs.” Laylan answered.

    “We have a way off than.” Skyess finally spoke. “But now we need to meet Vogga.” She looked up at the man who had been watching them for a little while; he had been subtle, catching no one’s attention. But Skyess knew better, and he more than likely could get us in. “Hold on a second.”

    She wasn’t as subtle as one would’ve liked her to be, but she didn’t much care. She strode right up to the man and stood there before him.

    “Are you a smuggler?” She whispered and sat down opposite of him.

    “Who wants to know?” He replied, Skyess mentally groaned.

    “That is of no concern, now answer the question.” She ordered, gently influencing his mind with the force. She could see the slight change in his posture.

    “I do…” He paused, and Skyess smirked slyly. “A little under the table trading…”

    “What’s your name, smuggler?”

    “The name’s Braig.”

    Skyess had been peering into the fool’s mind, and from there, she had obtained a small bit of information. This Braig wanted off of Nar Shadaa, and that was the perfect bargaining chip. “Listen smuggler, if you get us a meeting with Vogga the Hutt. We’ll get you off this sorry excuse for a moon.”

    Braig paused. “And why, may I ask, do you want to see HIM for?”

    Skyess reached out with the force again. “You don’t need to know that.”

    “I…” He muttered, “Don’t need to know that.”

    “Are you going to help us?” Skyess question; crossing her arms and fixing her hood so it was shading her face. She didn’t want to influence him that much, so this question was up to him.

    "Fine," he muttered, "I'll see what I can do. But you'd better uphold your end of the bargain."

    As Braig left, Skyess made her way back over to the group she had been sitting with. She looked over at Laylan with a sly smile. “We have a meeting with Vogga.”

    “Who was he?” Lyreth hissed. “You shouldn’t involve people who aren’t-“ She shut her mouth when the hybrid sent her a death glare.

    “His name is Braig, he’s a smuggler. And he’ll get us that meeting.” Skyess smirked.

    ~ ~ ~

    Alright, after the request of a couple of RPers, I’m bringing this back from the fringes of death.

    I tried to include only the characters of the people who replied, if you still want to RP to this and didn’t reply to MM’s pm, you can. Just join in again.


  11. #11
    The destroyer of worlds Elite Trainer
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    Default Re: .:*Jedi's Creed*:. .:*It Begins*:.

    Braig O'Malley
    -------------------------------
    Braig shook his head and muttered to himself as he left the Cantina.

    What the hell was he thinking? Trying to set a meeting with Vogga for these robed people who he didn't even know. All he knew was it was that Twi'lek girl's fault. Yeah, that was it. He did something to him, did some sort of mind trick on him.

    He had often heard that those who could use the force (what were they called again? Sith?) had the potential to manipulate people's minds. But Braig knew these guys couldn't be Sith. No, Sith just ordered you to do stuff, and when you refused, they'd kill you. None of this mind fuckery that girl pulled.

    Braig scratched his chin in thought. Wasn't there another group of people who did stuff like this? who walked around in robes and messed with you head? Jedees or something? The smuggler merely shrugged. It didn't matter. That group was long gone anyway, and even if these guys still existed, they wouldn't last long.

    Besides, they were offering a way for him off of Nar Shadaa, which would make his life so much easier.

    He was about to enter Vogga's personal chambers when a stocky Mustafarian stepped infront of him, his weapon in hand. Th large bodyguard barked something in his language. While Braig wasn't exactly fluent, he figured he meant along the lines of "What business do you have with Vogga."

    "A couple of guys want to arrnge a meeting with Vogga," Braig replied flatly.

    The mustafarian spoke a reply.

    "I don't know who they are. One of them just came up to me and asked me to arrange a meeting. Don't ask how they convince me, even I'm still confused."

    The mustafarian chuckled and spoke something in a condecending tone.

    "Look, if Vogga doesn't want to meet them, at least let me ask him so I can tell them I tried. Then it's their problem. I'll be in and out in a few seconds."

    The bodyguard thought for a moment before stepping aside.

    "Thank you."

    Braig walked in. The room was the same as before. Vogga sitting on his big lounge, his Twi'lek dance girl by his side, and his two Kath Hounds chained up on both sides.

    [What do you want Smuggler?] Vogga spoke up. Braig's eye twitched at being referred to as simply "smuggler", but since this was a big crime boss he was talking to, he figured he'd keep his mouth shut.

    "There're these guys down at the Cantina who want to meet with you," Braig explained, getting to the point."

    [And who are these 'guys']

    Braig shrugged, "Hell like I know. All I know is that there's five of them, and they all wear robes. That's it."

    [Robes huh? And if you don't know them, why are you speaking on their behalf?]

    The cycloptic smuggler sighed. "One of them used this mind trick thing on me. I don't know what, and to be honest, I'd rather not know."

    Vogga let out an interested murmur.

    [A mind trick you say?]

    "Er, yeah. Something like, "This does not concern you", or something," Braig explained, mimicing the girl's voice and hand motioned. Vogga thought for a moment.

    [Could it be...?]

    "You know them?"

    [Perhaps. Go back and tell them they have their meeting.]

    "All I needed to hear. Thanks boss slug," said Braig as he left, hoping to get out of there as fast as he could. As he stepped out of the building, Braig found himself surprised. He never really expected to actually get a meeting with him.

    "Well, I'd better go back and tell them," he murmured.
    I'm in your dimensions, screwing with your reality!


  12. #12
    A serious brain-f*** Advanced Trainer
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    Default Re: .:*Jedi's Creed*:. .:*It Begins*:.

    Lyreth
    ~~~~~~

    "Braig..." I muttered the name as the others began to discuss our plan. The meeting would only get us so far after all. "So he never got out..." I remembered Braig from the old days. Not so much as a friend or even as an aquaintance but as one of those faces I'd seen and names I'd remembered. It was Nar Shaddaa. You needed to know people to survive here and my gang had known everyone. It was a shame to think he was still stuck here on this hopeless rock. He'd always looked like the type that would make it off of here.

    As I turned my attention back to the others I caught a glimpse of something that made my brain burn. That mark...that three-pronged symbol scorched into the flesh of the palm...it made my blood cold. The scar's owner glanced at us briefly as he strode past, knocking unexpected customers out of his path. None dared to cross him. They all knew the fate that would befall them if they did.

    I didn't realise that my hand had touched my saber until I felt Laylan's hand on my arm. "What are you doing?" she hissed.

    "Nothing. I sensed trouble and was bracing myself." I wiggled my arm from her grasp. "I am no tactless padawan. You don't need to concern yourself with me."

    She returned to the conversation without a word, leaving me to think over what I'd see. Our Master had spoken to me about it once before our departure. Those words suddenly seemed hollow.

    "You called for me, Master?"

    He had been meditated and nodded in silence. I took seat opposite him.

    "You will be returning to Nar Shaddaa soon. No doubt you have many thoughts right now."

    "It was my home. It is a place that holds many memories for me. Thoughts are to be expected."

    "Thoughts of your parents?"

    I eyed him carefully. "Master?"

    "You are a great Jedi, Lyreth, but there are weaknesses in you. Two to be precise. Powerful emotions that hang on either side of the balance."

    "I wasn't aware that you knew of..."

    "Your grasp of the force is not as it should be. Because of this, it is easy to use it to uncover your feelings. Should that dark side even consider -"

    "I will not be a pawn to them. These are my emotions and none shall be master to them, save I. I swear to you Master. I will seek no vengeance on Nar Shaddaa."

    "What of the other? I have told you well how quickly a Sith might manipulate such a thing."

    "I know that path better than any and I will never find what I seek at the end of it. Let them tell me what they wish. I know the truth of things."

    "There is knowing and there is seeing. I fear for you."

    "Your fear is misplaced my Master. I am a Jedi and I will not falter."

    "I will not falter..." I let the words hang over me and sighed. He had been right to worry but I would prove my strength to him. He would see I was worthy of his teachings.

    I watched the brainless brute barrel out of the catina. No sooner had his shadow faded from the doorway than a familiar face appeared. I nudged Skyess and nodded sharply.

    "Heads up. Your messenger has returned."
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