LETS FUCKING GO

File: Farren Gaelle (Kakarit Outfit).jpg (790 KB, 900x1273)

790 KB JPG

=======

>>Farren Gaelle
>Brawn: 2
>Finesse: 3
>Intellect: 2
>Cunning: 2
>Resolve: 3
>Panache: 2

>>Skills:
>Astronavigation 1 (Intellect) – knowledge about the galaxy’s stellar composition, allowing for the correct plotting of routes and hyperspace jumps.
>Cool 1 (Panache) – a character’s ability to remain calm under danger. Rolled to resist Charm and Negotiation.
>Coordination 1 (Finesse) – a measure of a character’s nimbleness and flexibility.
>Deception 1 (Cunning) – judges the character’s ability to trick others into believing falsehoods.
>Force Entities 1 (Intellect) – how much a character knows of entities strong in the Force.
>Lore 2 (Intellect) – how much the character knows of the ancient galaxy and its history.
>Mechanics 1 (Intellect) – skill in working on all things from weapons to droids and ships.
>Melee 2 (Brawn) – proficiency with melee weapons such as knives and swords.
>Medicine 1 (Intellect) - used to treat wounds as minor as scrapes to life-threatening injuries.
>Perception 2 (Cunning) – used to notice clues, perceive hidden dangers, and all manner of hidden objects or persons.
>Piloting [Space] 1 (Agility) – the ability to pilot starships and other stellar vessels.
>Sith 1 (Intellect) – knowledge regarding the Sith and Dark Side of the Force.
>Stealth 1 (Agility) – a measure of how easily a character can hide or appear inconspicuous.
>Vigilance 2 (Resolve) – represents a character’s ability to take notice and react to events happening in their surroundings/peripheral vision.

>>Traits:
>Jedi Shadow [Add +2 to checks made for Deception, Perception, Stealth and Vigilance]
>Makashi Expert [Roll 3d6 when using Form II/Makashi]
>Indistinguishable [You are but a face in the crowd, and add 1d6 to Stealth rolls]

>>Lightsaber Rating: 3
>>Weapons: “Makashi/Duelist” lightsaber, curved hilt with gold-yellow blade; “Niman/Dual-wielding” lightsaber, straight hilt with gold-yellow blade.
>>Lightsaber Forms:
>Form II, Makashi [Finesse]
>Form VI, Niman [Finesse+Cunning]

>>Force Rating: 2 (2d10+Resolve)
>>Force Affinity: Alter (+5 bonus to Alter-type powers)

>>Force Powers:
>Force Fire 2 (Alter) – a pyrokinetic ability that allows the practitioner to manipulate and conjure flames with the Force.
>Force Pull/Push 1 (Alter) – The iconic telekinesis of every Jedi, determines lifting limit and push power.
>Force Speed 1 (Alter) – The universe seems to slow around you, and you are react faster as a result of it.
>Force Weapon 3 (Alter) – You imbue a mundane weapon with the Force, increasing its durability and damage. At third rank, your lightsabers now do more damage. At fifth rank...?
>Mystic Weapon 1 (Alter). You can imbue a lightsaber with the Force and make it fight remotely at your side. At third rank, you may add an additional lightsaber.
>Sever Force 2 (Alter) – A rare technique that severs one’s connection with the Force. Leveling this increases duration and potency.

=======

File: Farren's Weapons.png (474 KB, 600x945)

474 KB PNG

===Weapons===

>>Farren Gaelle’s Lightsabers – a pair of lightsabers constructed after Farren Gaelle’s elevation to a Jedi Knight.

>Lightsaber Stats:
>Skill: Lightsaber
>Range: Engaged

- Makashi/Dueling ‘saber
-- Curved Hilt (1) - Preferred by duelists and Makashi/Form II wielders, adds a +4 to lightsaber checks when using Makashi/Form II in combat against a single foe.
-- Dual-Phase Mod (2) - Allows you to change the length of your blade once per encounter, catching your opponent off-guard to ignore melee defense for one attack.
-- Kakerox Crystals (2) - A shard of the Godseye given to you by Grand Shamanka Bos. You may make a Resolve Check to draw upon the power within the crystal, adding +5 to the next Force Power check. This can be done twice per the wielder's Force Rating before the crystal needs to be recharged via exposure to a solar body for a full 24 hours. The blade created is dense and vibrant, intensifying in plain view of a star or sun.
-- Shadowsheathe (1) - A specialized sheathe or holster made to conceal weaponry using optical camouflage. Doubles the DC made to find the affected weapon on your person.

- Niman/Dual-wielding ‘saber
-- Dual-Phase (2) - Allows you to change the length of your blade once per encounter, catching your opponent off-guard to ignore melee defense for one attack.
-- Stabilizing Coils (1) - When using this lightsaber, negate the first Critical Failure that occurs naturally for that encounter/situation.
-- Kakerox Crystals (2) - A shard of the Godseye given to you by Grand Shamanka Bos. You may make a Resolve Check to draw upon the power within the crystal, adding +5 to the next Force Power check. This can be done twice per the wielder's Force Rating before the crystal needs to be recharged via exposure to a solar body for a full 24 hours. The blade created is dense and vibrant, intensifying in plain view of a star or sun.
-- Shadowsheathe (1) - A specialized sheathe or holster made to conceal weaponry using optical camouflage. Doubles the DC made to find the affected weapon on your person.

>>Nomi’s Mandalorian Blaster – a Mandalorian pistol given to you by Nomiana Whrul after an evening of dancing on Mylar-3 prior to the Slave Revolution. She gave it to you in the hopes that it would keep you alive in the Unknown Regions.
>Pistol Stats:
- Skill: Ranged (Light)
- Range: (Medium)
- Hardpoints (3/3):
-- Blaster Actuating Module - Increases power/penetration of blaster bolts at the cost of increased maintenance.
-- Hair Trigger - Allows the weapon to be fired twice in a single action at the cost of decreased accuracy.
-- Multi-Optic Sight - Reduces any penalties due to smoke, darkness and other vision-affecting environmental effects.

File: The Albatross.png (293 KB, 655x369)

293 KB PNG

==INVENTORY==

>Farren’s Padawan Lightsaber – the last of a pair of lightsabers you constructed as a Padawan. It bears no special modifications, but has carried you through thick and thin for the better part of almost fifteen years. Among noteworthy opponents of this lightsaber include the Accuser of Pilgrims, the Herald of Jombaral, and the Mad Warrior-King Trax.
>Golden Lightsaber Crystal – one of two lightsaber crystals you had taken from the caves of Illum when you were a youngling. The lightsaber it had been embedded in had been destroyed by the Herald of Jombaral.
>Holocron of the Betrayer – a Jedi Holocron containing the persona of Kreia, an enigmatic Jedi Master from the time of Revan and the Old Republic.
>Liar’s Blade – the spearhead carried into battle by the Liar Chieftain against the Herald of Jombaral thousands of years ago. Used to slay the Herald and free the souls it had absorbed into itself. Seemingly anathematic to Force-users, you watched it burn Grand Shamanka Bos from within herself.

==ALLEANA'S LEADS==
>Arkinnea, a planet in the Expanse Region, where refugees of both Separatist and Republic bent flee.
>Bracca, a planet in the Mid Rim, where the only fortune to be made is from shipbreaking and scrapping.
>Dagobah, a planet in the Outer Rim, a desolate swamp void of any significant or advanced civilization.
>U’haon, a planet in the Tingel Arm, suspected to be the planet you saw in the Revenant’s vision.
>Uliea, a planet in the Outer Rim, alleged homeworld of Alleana and Farren Gaelle, largely unknown by the galaxy.

==============

=The Albatross=

>>Class: Lonrar E-9 Explorer

>Silhouette – [4]
>Speed – [4]
>Handling – [-1]
>Hull: [25/25]
>System: [14/14]

>Shield (Fore) – [1]
> Shield (Port) – N/A
>Shield (Starboard) – N/A
>Shield (Aft) – [1]
>Armor – [4]

>Cargo Capacity: 60 Metric Tons

>>Customization Hardpoints [2/4]:
>Electronic Countermeasures – doubles the DC for enemy shits to hit you.
>Security Measures – doubles the DC for Computers/Skullduggery checks made for unauthorized access.

>>Misc.
>Engineering Access – sub-deck access passages grant easy access to nearly any internal engineering system in the ship, allowing for quick response to problems. Lowers the DC made for Mechanics or Computer checks thanks to ease of reaching systems typically hidden behind bulkheads or sealed beneath deck plating.
>Namesake Bonus – increases engines/sublight speed by 1.

>>Weapons:
>>1x Dorsal & 1x Ventral Turret- mounted Medium Laser Cannon(s).
>Fire Arc: ALL; Damage 6; Critical 3; Range [Close], Linked 1

>>Crew & Compliment:
> 1 Pilot, 1 Co-Pilot, 1 Engineer, 1 Quartermaster.
>4 Passengers.

===============

File: Darth Vader, Battle of Ka(...).jpg (311 KB, 963x1200)

311 KB JPG

Prelude:

The 15th of Month 8 in 19 BBY came as any other day in the galaxy might have. Almost two months after the end of the Clone Wars, the newly-christened Galactic Empire had begun to consolidate its grip upon the Core Worlds. For the most part, the populace of the former Republic had accepted any and all changes in policies both domestic and foreign without much in the way of resistance.

Certainly, there were elements that embraced the change. COMPNOR (Commission for the Preservation of a New Order) had been salvaged into a radically pro-Empire organization, promoting both its virtues as well as its might against detractors of the new regime. Humanocentrist factions, emboldened by their victory over the Separatists, were all but drunk on the sudden influence and power they’d come to wield.

This political windfall, however, had come with a cost, and it was the nonhuman population within the Empire that had to pay. At the University of Coruscant, nonhumans were barred from applying, and a full third of the student body had been subsequently expelled. Youth brigades and bands of pro-Empire activists roamed the streets, harassing and intimidating any nonhumans they could find. Petitions to the Imperial Senate went unheard. Several dozens of Senators (human or otherwise) had suddenly been found to be harbor sympathy for the Separatist cause, and been forced to retire or outright disappear into the ether.

Outwards of the Core, however, pockets of resistance continued to wage a noble, if not helpless and ultimately doomed series of campaigns. The Wookiees, formerly staunch allies of the Republic, fight a bloody insurrection against the Clones they once fought alongside. New Plympto saw a Separatist Remnant engaging in guerilla warfare, led by the Jedi General who once warred against them. And in the Ciutric Sector, a coalition of Muun refugees, Thalassian slavers and pirate forces disrupted trade and supply lines between the Mid and Outer Rim.

These examples are only among a handful of seditious and rebellious movements observed in the month after the formation of the New Order, among the conflict later to be referred to as the {Reconquest of the Rim}. But perhaps the most noteworthy observation is the emergence of Lord Vader, the Empire’s most powerful servant and Supreme Commander of the New Order. Few know of his true origins, but even more know of his deeds as the merciless, ruthless enforcer of Emperor Palpatine’s will.

But beyond the known galaxy, within the Unknown Regions, Tuesday the 15th marked the beginning of the end of the Mylar Slave Revolution. With the aid of Jedi Farren Gaelle and Torok Lamal, the slaves of Mylar-3 overthrew the shackles of their Tof masters and established their own military government. Though a young stratocracy, the Mylar Star Alliance seeks to not only pursue their own interests and self-determination, but be prepared for the day when the Tof Kingdoms return for a bloody vengeance.

(cont.)

File: Arotta Bashur_04.jpg (69 KB, 470x810)

69 KB JPG

In the last planet of the Mylus System, the subzero sphere known colloquially as “the Chiller”, the final campaign to purge the Tof remnant has begun. Supreme Archon Keimann has committed the bulk and best of his military forces upon the planet, whose water supplies are sorely needed by the Alliance. The Tof Remnant, led by General Dugrash the Jolly, have dug in and made the preparations for a fierce defense, intending to hold out until reinforcements can arrive to relieve them.

Unstoppable force meets immovable object as the pages of history continue to turn, penned in both ink and blood.

>>Amagi, Mylus System, Unknown Regions

“I don’t know what we have. Neither of us know what we are. But...we could still explore them together.”

“…you really mean that, don’t you?”

“I…I wouldn’t have offered if I didn’t mean it.”

“…I don’t know how to respond.”

“A ‘yes’ or a ‘no’ would be nice.”

“...dumbass…but, yes. Yes…yes! Force me, this is...”

“…I’m not expecting everything to change overnight. That wouldn’t be fair for either of us.”

“Is this what it means to ‘go steady’, then?”

“Probably not, but…that’ll work. Just…slow, for now. No point in getting the others worried…or startle the younglings.”

“Hah…! We wouldn’t want to set a bad example to the future of the Jedi.”

“…the future of the Jedi…”

“What’s wrong?”

“…nothing. It’s…fine. Just the...gravity of that statement is...”

“…Farren…?”

“…it’s getting late. I have to return to my ship. But…I’ll come visit you again. I promise.”

“…sure, sure. Just…take care of yourself, alright? And don’t make me hunt you down…again.”

“I won’t. Good night, Arotta…”

The holocron of Master Kreia lies innocuously on the table, emanating a soft, green light that illuminates the mess hall of the Albatross. It offers nothing beyond a source of light as you chase down the last of Master Larid’s Corellian whiskey. With a grimace, you set the glasses down and massage the sides of your temple. Alcohol had never been one of your vices, but you found yourself reaching for the bottle after your discussion with Arotta.

Not out of frustration or grief, nor in anger as some drunkards might. Speaking to Arotta without bandying words or rejoining japes is…difficult. The fortress the two of you had created has fallen; a mighty structure bristling with sharp barbs, stocked with acidic comments, enshrouded with dark humor and plagued by storms of intense rivalry…

It is gone, razed to the ground by the decision the two of you had come to make in that small hospital room. All that remains are the original builders atop the foundation, equally naked and vulnerable perhaps for the first time since their first meeting. A fresh start for both and what the desire to build, but no idea where to possibly start.

(cont.)

File: Kreia_03.jpg (75 KB, 500x715)

75 KB JPG

How does a Jedi go about pursuing a relationship, anyway? Or at the very least, a relationship that goes beyond camaraderie? There’s ample precedent of such things happening. In the time of the Old Republic, there had been Jedi dynasties. One needn’t look further than Revan and Bastilla Shan…

Revan and the Old Republic, you think quietly as you glance towards Kreia’s holocron.

You aren’t nearly about to activate the relic and simply ask the Jedi for relationship advice, like a teenager does to a parent. Although even though Masters Larid and Kosa know about your and Arotta’s relationship, you have doubts that either could offer anything constructive. Or if not constructive, at least helpful to advancing a purely carnal relationship into something more.

You exhale roughly. What a complicated mess. You’d set a time and date speak with Kreia. Between the events of Kakarit, the Exodus to Mylar, the revelation of the Sith Lords, there is much to speak to her about. It’s just bad luck that this latest…development with Arotta happened before you decided to speak with her.

But there isn’t any point in putting it off any longer. Even if you’re still on the bench of whether or not to share the events of the last few hours with her. Let alone anything else beyond a recounting of Kakarit.

The elderly Jedi emerges from her holocron in a soft burst of light. Master Kreia’s image settles into the familiar form of a hooded elder, arms at her side and a critical eye towards the supplicant. The sight of the Corellian whiskey does not escape her notice, and her nose crinkles in what might appear to be an amused disapproval.

“I’m not drunk,” you preemptively lead just before she can open her mouth. When her frown doesn’t go away, you sigh, elaborating, “…it’s just been a long day.”

She holds onto her silence for the span of a few breaths. When she deigns to speak, she breathes, “You have come with questions. I am more than willing to provide them, in spite of your…current unbalanced state. I may not be your official master, but it would be a mark against my pride as a teacher to leave you bereft of guidance when you clearly need it.”

In spite of yourself, you offer a wan smile. “I appreciate that, thank you.”

Kreia sniffs. “I would certainly hope that you not make this sort of entrance habitual.” Yet the Jedi pauses, peering at you through the tip of her cowl. “Let us then start from the beginning; the fact that you are speaking to me indicates that you have concluded your Trial of Spirit. You are now a Jedi Knight.”

It’s hard to not feel a surge of pride, even if you don’t visibly puff out your chest. “I am.”

“Indeed, you have grown stronger since we have last spoken,” she pointedly observes. Her lips curl into an enigmatic line, not quite a smile but not a frown either. “And the Force resonates more clearly within you than it had for our first meeting.”

(cont.)

“I would hope that I’ve made some improvement,” you reply with a wry grin.

Kreia frowns. Returning a stern tone, she admonishes, “Pride and arrogance are dangerous traits to have, but indulging in false modesty is ill-fitting for someone with your accomplishments. True humility is not one thinking less of him or herself, but thinking less of one’s self. A lesson that many among the Jedi seem to have forgotten…”

Even as it audibly sours towards the end, unexpected platitude brings an unexpected blush to your cheeks. Rubbing the back of your neck sheepishly, you answer, “Fair enough. But the thing is…there’s a lot of stuff that’s happened since we last spoke.”

That is the understatement of the century. But the Jedi merely folds her hands within her robes, intoning dryly, “Of that, I have no doubt. You carry yourself differently, but your stature is diminished by a weight upon your shoulders. Speak freely, then. Share with simulacra what troubles the current generation of Jedi.”

>>Concerning of what to share with Kreia, you decide to…
>Speak only of Kakarit and the Sith Lords. Kreia has knowledge of surviving a Jedi Purge, but your relationship with Arotta is none of her concern.
>Speak of everything: Kakarit, the Sith Lords, and your relationship with Arotta. She asked for you to share your troubles, thus you will give her everything.
>Custom option. (Write-in)

[VOTE OPEN FOR FIVE HOURS]

Thank you for your patience. We're back in business!

>>4669344
>>Speak only of Kakarit and the Sith Lords. Kreia has knowledge of surviving a Jedi Purge, but your relationship with Arotta is none of her concern.

>>4669344
>Speak only of Kakarit and the Sith Lords. Kreia has knowledge of surviving a Jedi Purge, but your relationship with Arotta is none of her concern.
Farren survived space 'nam, jedi relationship autism won' t kill him.
Right?

>>4669323
>>4669326
>>4669328
>>4669331
>>4669335
>>4669338
>>4669341
>>4669344
>tfw nkt only is Kaz back, he's still using the images of your sabers
Welcome back Kaz! did you see the other cool SW quest currently suffering technical issues? If not you should check it out, it's a great draw-quest.


>Speak of everything: Kakarit, the Sith Lords, and your relationship with Arotta. She asked for you to share your troubles, thus you will give her everything.

Kreia's trust worthy. Well not necessarily trustworthy but solid enough that she won't go blabbing about anything. Plus she's an expert on the Sith, having been one herself

>>4669344
>Speak of everything: Kakarit, the Sith Lords, and your relationship with Arotta. She asked for you to share your troubles, thus you will give her everything.

File: EqL14FYW8AE-Wvo.jpg (192 KB, 1280x1811)

192 KB JPG

>>4669344
>>Speak of everything: Kakarit, the Sith Lords, and your relationship with Arotta. She asked for you to share your troubles, thus you will give her everything.

>>4669344
>Speak only of Kakarit and the Sith Lords. Kreia has knowledge of surviving a Jedi Purge, but your relationship with Arotta is none of her concern.

>>4669341
>>4669344
>Speak of everything: Kakarit, the Sith Lords, and your relationship with Arotta. She asked for you to share your troubles, thus you will give her everything.

>>4669344
>>Speak only of Kakarit and the Sith Lords. Kreia has knowledge of surviving a Jedi Purge, but your relationship with Arotta is none of her concern.
Hope we'll get to Kashyyyk at some point, absolute fuckton of Jedi there. Good to have you back, boss.

>>4669465
Also, Kaz, you forgot to put down Ranged (Light) on our skill list here >>4669326

>>4669344
>Speak of everything: Kakarit, the Sith Lords, and your relationship with Arotta. She asked for you to share your troubles, thus you will give her everything.

Rolled 76 (1d100)

>>4669344
>>Speak only of Kakarit and the Sith Lords. Kreia has knowledge of surviving a Jedi Purge, but your relationship with Arotta is none of her concern

Love problem is reserved for the Outer Rim Loveline Podcast. A hundo makes this cannon.

>>4669344
>Kakarit
>Sith Lords
>Babies being born in force-rich environments
>Adventurous younglings

File: Separatist Core Ship.jpg (1.96 MB, 2001x2978)

1.96 MB JPG

>>4669390
>>4669404
>>4669423
>>4669465
>>4669502
>>4669531

You exhale warily as you lean back into your seat. And with a half-joking tone, you inquire, “…I don’t suppose you’d mind me pouring myself one more glass? It’s gonna be a long story.”

She makes no remark or movement beyond a quirked eyebrow. Taking that as her sanction, if not her blessing, you pour yourself another glassful of Corellian whiskey. Swirling the drink and nosing the bouquet, you take a small sip. It goes down easily enough, and loosens your tongue as you prepare to lay down all the cards on the table.

Clearing your throat, you begin: “After I spoke with you, I ended up going to the Separatist encampment…”

Your recounting of the story passes not entirely unlike your time with Master Larid. But where your master was content to simply listen until you’d finished, Kreia occasionally interjects, offering her own commentary or request for clarification. She isn’t too obtrusive, but the questions she poses cause your skin to crawl more often than not.

“The Separatist commodore is only useful insofar as her collection of droids,” she observes tartly. “And the laser-ridden carcass of half a ship. When those currencies have been spent, what else does she have to offer beyond a solitary blaster? Her machines have deprived her of even a modicum of hardship that both you and the Kakari have endured, especially in the case of the latter.”

“Are you saying that it was wrong of me to save her and her husband?” you counter, utterly perplexed.

“You offered partnership when you might have obtained subordination.”

“Partnership in name only. She ended up obeying my orders more often than not.”

“Because while she is slothful, she isn’t a fool,” Kreia refutes. “Do you think that she did not fear what might happen to her husband if she failed to secure your aid or obey your orders? You would never bring any direct harm to either of them, as is the Jedi way. But beyond droids she clearly does not have the means to replace, you were the only definitive bulwark standing between the Mercantors and the Children of Jombaral."

Your fingers twitch for the entire bottle of whiskey as you stare agog at the simulacra. Shaking your head, you hiss, “I needed her ship to evacuate the Kakari! And without her droids, repairing the Globus in time before the Empire arrived would’ve been impossible!”

“It is not wrong to use or exploit a resource while in your possession. But Mercantor and others like her ilk rely far too much upon their droids, mindless automatons dead to the Force. It speaks ill of a general for their preferred troops to simply be unquestioning machines, to be spent and simply replaced as best they see fit.”

She pauses, considering. “And from what you told me of the clones, the late Republic seems to have been no better.”

“The clones have the ability to think and question orders,” you protest.

(cont.)

File: Alleana Gaelle_00.jpg (1.28 MB, 1181x1748)

1.28 MB JPG

“Yet how easy was it for the Herald of Jombaral to seize their will and turn their guns towards you?” She muses. “The Commander gave you his word that he would refuse to comply with the order. But he is no different from a droid if his baser instincts or ‘programming’ can so easily be seized and override what free will he claims to have.”

You have no immediate answer to that.

But Kreia isn’t nearly finished. She adds, “The clones are a valuable resource, I will readily agree to that. But you cannot deny that they are a security risk to you and the rest of the Jedi. Are you willing to risk another repeat of the Battle of Nest’s End, and possibly face the consequences of their continued companionship?”

In a way, it’s kind of messed up how the discussion is going. You came to Kreia to seek for aid and share your troubles. Instead, the elder Jedi seems content to screw with your head with questions of philosophy, and touch upon issues that you either hadn’t thought about, or otherwise buried in the back of your mind.

Still…there’s something oddly therapeutic about the exchange between the two of you.

Much like Master Larid, Kreia displays mild interest at the Accuser of Pilgrims, and the more esoteric practices of the Communion of Spirits. And in a similar vein, she is keenly interested with the discussion you had with Alleana, almost to a disturbing degree. Going so far as to lean forward as you recount the conversation and offer that your…mother had given you.

To your surprise, Kreia seems oddly satisfied with how you handled yourself. The gatekeeper takes a moment to compose her thoughts before saying, “You were wise to be wary. One can never be too careful when confronting echoes or apparitions of the Force.”

And she presses you no further, offering little more than a shallow nod of approval when you eschewed martial talent, skill proficiency or knowledge in the Force in lieu of three questions. The Exodus and the final battle with the Herald are done relatively quickly. But Kreia takes a moment to scorn the late Warrior-King Trax, with an audible sneer in her voice.

“Foolish king…” She shakes her head, and the whites of her eyes hold a visible contempt. “So blinded by pride, to have been brought the truth about what lies above his head, and to deny it so violently? The arrogance. The murder of Grand Shamanka Bos is an unforgivable crime that was only punishable by death and disgrace by his son.”

You try to suppress a shudder at the very not Jedi-like response. But you take a measure of pride in not squirming as Kreia turns her eyes towards you. “Compromised as you were by the death of the Shamanka, you were wise to not fall for his ploy. Or perhaps, strong or confident enough in your abilities. To rise above your Jedi training is no easy thing.”

…that isn’t quite what happened, but you aren’t about to argue or protest.

>>You have gained influence with Kreia.

(cont.)

File: Anakin Skywalker.png (1.25 MB, 922x1400)

1.25 MB PNG

And the discussion inevitably turns towards the Sith Lords.

This time, Kreia waits for you to finish your story. You have little to say about Emperor Palpatine, as you’d never met the man personally, even prior to the Clone Wars. He had seemed to be the genuine deal, a fresh politician from a planet in crisis, sick of the red tape and ineffectiveness of the Senate.

>>For actions taken in the first thread...

It is difficult to think of Anakin Skywalker as Darth Vader, but the footage you saw did not lie. Your guts churn as you describe your relationship with the former slave from Tatooine. You welcomed him into the Temple when the other Younglings kept their distance. And for a time, you were close for just a little over a year before Master Larid had taken you away from the temple as his padawan.

“Sometimes I feel that Obi-wan doesn’t care for me…”

But you had maintained a relationship as best you could. You exchanged letters, kept in semi-regular contact, in spite of the cloak-and-dagger lifestyle of a Jedi Shadow. You remember the gripes Anakin had with Ferus “Wonderboy” Olin, the grief he felt with Master Yaddle’s sacrifice, loosing an arm to Count Dooku…

“If it were up to me, you’d be a Knight! You’re more than ready, and older than me! Isn’t there something you can say to your master about taking the Trials?”

In hindsight, small talk wasn’t something either of you engaged with. Even going into the Clone Wars, the bulk of your exchanges were incredibly serious. And the frequency of your messages gradually decreased, as was natural in war. But there is…had been a friendship observed from what few times you’d been able to meet up.

“Hey, Farren? I know Master Skyguy isn’t the most…verbose Jedi, but he’s really glad to have you with us on the mission.”

“…he was a good friend,” you finish, shaking your head. “But all that’s left is Darth Vader, and whatever machinations the Emperor has planned for him.”

Kreia shifts, peering at you with an inscrutable gaze. “Are you saying this as a question for me to affirm?”

You shake your head, almost angry at the question. “No! No, I know what my duty is. That hasn’t changed.”

“But you are saddened by the betrayal of your friend?”

“…I just don’t understand,” you admit, pinching the bridge of your nose. “I get why Palpatine might bring him into the fold. But what was the catalyst that caused him to fall?”

Silence descends within the interior of the Albatross. The only source of noise is the occasional creak and groan of the hull, and the soft hum of the holocron that Kreia resides in…the Holocron of the Betrayer.

“…it is such a quiet thing to fall,” she eventually says, “Do you believe Skywalker to be the first Jedi to become a Sith without clear or obvious explanation? Would it make you feel better had you seen him roar and below his reason for betrayal?”

(cont.)

File: Darth Bane and Darth Zannah.jpg (3.25 MB, 1867x1344)

3.25 MB JPG

Maybe… you think dryly, but otherwise remain silent as you sense the elder preparing for another pontification.
“What I know of Skywalker, I have learned from you. Thus, any conclusions I have regarding him are heavily biased. But I would impart with you this advice, building upon what your master had told you: dwelling on the ‘why’ or the ‘how’ does nothing. If you are that curious, ask Vader should you ever come across him.”

In spite of yourself, you chortle, even if it comes out like a strangled cough. “I would hope that meeting doesn’t happen for a long time.”

The corner of her mouth curls upwards. “A better response than what a certain youngling had said.”

Wait, what-?

“Regardless,” she says, either unknowingly or willfully oblivious to you any sort of explanation, “A confrontation may be inevitable, no, will be inevitable should you return to the known galaxy and make yourself too visible. Of course, with your unique career choice, that might only happen if you are reckless in your continued duties.

“But never forget,” she warns, adopting a grave tone, “That the Emperor is the real power behind your friend’s downfall. And that he has won the support of the ignorant masses and turned them against the Jedi. Much like the machinations of Darth Sidious, any sort of action to not only depose the Sith but win the heart of the galaxy must be undertaken with care so as not to alienate the other.”

You nod. That’s more than fair enough, even if you weren’t as reckless as some of the other Jedi you know. “I’ll keep that in mind. I haven’t forgotten about the Rule of Two.”

“The Rule of Two?” she inquires.

Ah, that’s right. Given how her holocron comes from the time of the Old Republic, it would make sense for her to be unfamiliar with that particular tenant of the Sith. That particular tidbit was one of the first things Master Larid taught you.

>Farren takes 8 on a Sith (Intellect) check, and is able to explain the Rule of Two to Kreia.

Once you finish, she nods in understanding. “That is interesting. A philosophy that ensures consistent struggle and growth, ensuring only the strongest emerges. All the while maintaining secrecy…truly an insidious plot.”

“You almost sound like you’re praising them,” you say, not quite accusing her.

“Is it praise if I merely observe that it was successful in not only staying hidden, but wiping out the Jedi?” she calmly replies.

That response causes you glare at her, and drink straight from the bottle without breaking eye contact.

She scoffs, and you can almost hear the way her eyes roll. “If you will allow me to impart one final reflection on this Skywalker before we shift topics…” At the gesture you make, a sort of half-hearted wave of your hand, she affixes you with a keen look, and intones gravely:

(cont.)

“To rely on prophecy and portents, waiting for a superior being to come and alleviate you of your burdens and troubles, is slothful, but not in a manner like Mercantor. Waiting for the arrival of some sort of savior, messiah or Chosen One to alleviate you of the troubles of the age is apathy of the worst kind. It takes responsibility and duty for action out of those who can act, and thrusts it either upon others or the next generation.

“There is nothing more repugnant than doing nothing,” she hisses, in a voice full of venomous bile, “To simply stagnate and remain static while hoping for change either promised or foretold. Apathy is death, Farren Gaelle. Worse than death, because even a rotting carcass can feed the beasts and insects.”

Kreia pauses, staring at you once more. The bottle doesn’t slip from your hands, but you set it down as she looks at you with the intensity of a burning star. “Have a care that your own indecisiveness about your friend’s betrayal does not cause you to become paralyzed with despair. Pray that you find the resolution in your heart before Darth Vader finds you…”

If nothing else, you can safely say that finishing the discussion of the Sith causes the mood to take a turn, lightening up if not completely changing in tone or tenor. The subject of Octavia’s pregnancy is of mild interest, owing to the possibility of a child strong in the Force due to exposure on Kakarit. Such things hadn’t been uncommon in the Old Republic, apparently.

Of course, you’ll have to wait for the child’s arrival. Six months to decide how to proceed should the newest Mercantor be Force-sensitive.

But when the topic of Arotta hesitantly comes up, Kreia is mercifully blunt, or otherwise not keen on making far to big of a deal out of it. Perhaps her energy had been better spent on more caustic focuses, such as rebuking droids and clones, the apathetic and the Sith. Thus, she is comparatively placid as she dispenses her advice.

“If you are so certain that you wish to pursue a romantic relationship,” she says dryly, “Then who am I to stop you? Even as you’ve shown me your unorthodox beliefs and contradictions with the Jedi Code, you’ve also shown both resilience against temptation against the Dark Side. It is certainly an improvement beyond the more passionate and carnal affair you’d carried on before.”

You aren’t nearly drunk in spite of how much you’ve had. But the hue of red on your cheeks is mostly embarrassment.

“I am more concerned about her than with you,” muses Kreia. “Based on what you have told me of her 'colorful' personality. It boggles the mind as to how you might have come together in the first place. But it is no matter. I would be sorely disappointed if this liaison would be the cause for your downfall…”

(cont.)

File: Jedi Holocron.jpg (80 KB, 1210x672)

80 KB JPG

And with that, there is nothing else to talk about. Even as you prepare to turn off the holocron, you aren’t…satisfied? No, because you received answers, but were also given a slew of things to think about. Even as you thank her for her wisdom, she seems to pick up on your reservations.

“I am but a mirror whose only purpose is to show you what your eyes cannot yet see,” Kreia says enigmatically as she disappears back into the holocron. “Until you call me again, Farren Gaelle…”

It’s been two days since you returned from Kakarit. But as you settle into bed, even as the rest of the crew comes back for the evening, you aren’t nearly as well-rested as you’d like to be…

>>Kreia has given you two questions to think about.

>>Are you willing to risk the aid of the Clones in spite of what happened in Nest’s End? [Select one]
>Yes. You have faith in Skipp and Scrapper Squad that a repeat won’t happen.
>Yes. But at the first sign of any trouble, you will cut them down yourself.
>No. Perhaps it’s time for you and the Clones to go your separate ways.
>No. The Clones are a risk, and must be dealt with, effective immediately.

>>How is it that you will find resolution in your heart should you fight Darth Vader? [Select one]
>Anger at your friend’s betrayal, and burning desire to see justice for the Jedi Order.
>Nothing. You are a Jedi, and you must rise above any sort of emotional response.
>Sorrow at how things have become, but determined to see the Dark Side purged.

>>What will you do tomorrow? [Select two, unless taking a mutually exclusive option.]
>Ask around if anyone knew where Nomiana Whrul departed.
>Follow up on any leads with the Revenant and the Storyteller.
>Gather your crew and join the campaign/search on the Chiller. [MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE WITH OTHER OPTIONS]
>Help Troxl find a suitable place to settle the Kakari Tribes.
>Inquire about hiring additional crew for the Albatross.
>Custom option. (Write-in)


>>Please structure your answers as the following.
>Clone answer.
>Vader answer.
>Activity one.
>Activity two. (If not taking a mutually exclusive option)

[VOTE OPEN FOR SIX HOURS]

>>4669816
>>Clone answer.
>No. The Clones are a risk, and must be dealt with, effective immediately.

>>Vader answer.
>Sorrow at how things have become, but determined to see the Dark Side purged.

>>Activity one.
>Ask around if anyone knew where Nomiana Whrul departed.

>>Activity two.
>Follow up on any leads with the Revenant and the Storyteller.

>>4669816
>Yes. But at the first sign of any trouble, you will cut them down yourself.
>Nothing. You are a Jedi, and you must rise above any sort of emotional response.
>Gather your crew and join the campaign/search on the Chiller. [MUTUALLY EXCLUSIVE WITH OTHER OPTIONS]

>>4669816
Clones
>Yes. You have faith in Skipp and Scrapper Squad that a repeat won’t happen.
We might as well look into what happened to them when the black robed sith popped up, and if any other clones had the same type of experience when it happened. Helping a bunch of clones realizing they got duped into killing there comrades would be an effective way to deny the Empire of highly trained troops while adding to our own small army.

Darth Vader
>Sorrow at how things have become, but determined to see the Dark Side purged.

>Activity one.
>Ask around if anyone knew where Nomiana Whrul departed.

>Activity two.
>Help Troxl find a suitable place to settle the Kakari Tribes.

>>4669816
>Yes. But at the first sign of any trouble, you will cut them down yourself.

Clones are bros, but just, you know, be VERY careful around the O-word and 6th number.

I don't like ANY of those choices for the 2nd one so imma write-in
>Being sorrowful or wrathful won't do anything to change the situation, but not feeling anything isn't healthy. You will recognize your emotions as a natural reaction, but you will control them, not let them control you. When the opportunity comes you will unload your sorrow and anger on Vader.

>Activity
I'm torn between the chiller and searching a new home for the Kakari and storyteller... though if I had to choose I choose one I'd go with:
>Chiller
Those piece of shit slavers need to be eliminated so the Empire doesn't have ANY chance of getting a legit claim on literally the only friendly sector we have.

>>4669816
>No. Perhaps it’s time for you and the Clones to go your separate ways.
>Sorrow at how things have become, but determined to see the Dark Side purged.

>Follow up on any leads with the Revenant and the Storyteller.
>Help Troxl find a suitable place to settle the Kakari Tribes.

We should take a breather. I think its fair we let others take charge after all we went through. Goodluck lost padawans

>>4669816
>Clone answer.
>Yes. But at the first sign of any trouble, you will cut them down yourself.
>Vader answer.
>Resignation, ultimately he made his choice, and we have made ours. He has become a monster, and as such needs to be put down.
>Activity one.
>Help Troxl find a suitable place to settle the Kakari Tribes.
>Activity two. (If not taking a mutually exclusive option)
Look into the matter of the Clones and the sith ordering them, to see what caused it and to ensure it will not happen again.

>>4669843
>>4669825
Why y'all hating on the clones bro?

>>4669845
>bro

>>4669849
Yes, I used ironic language on a cambodian story telling board, fucking sue me, now tell me why you want the professionally trained military grade meat puppets gone when they could train the kakari/younglings and THEN be on their way?

>>4669816
>No. Perhaps it’s time for you and the Clones to go your separate ways.
It really is for the best, they deserve to live their own lives.

>Sorrow at how things have become, but determined to see the Dark Side purged.
RiP The homie

>Follow up on any leads with the Revenant and the Storyteller.
>Help Troxl find a suitable place to settle the Kakari Tribes.

>>4669853
I dont want risks in my plays. Unless we have Jedi tricks to counter the suggestion I'd very much not want to risk it. Though now that I think about it. Its they now know where our base of operations. Hmmmmmm

>>4669816
>Yes. But at the first sign of any trouble, you will cut them down yourself.
>Sorrow at how things have become, but determined to see the Dark Side purged.
>Follow up on any leads with the Revenant and the Storyteller.
>Help Troxl find a suitable place to settle the Kakari Tribes.

>>4669862
we could look into it easily with an action

>>4669862
This >>4669877 . Cause the clones ought to know SOMETHING is up, and depending on what Kaz says, it could just be those tumor things. Rex had his removed, maybe we can remove everyone elses?

>>4669862
We did pretty well with Force Sever.

>>4669892
Eeeh, I don't think Force Sever would work on something like the Clone's tumors since they're not force related.

>>4669816
>Clone answer
>Yes. You have faith in Skipp and Scrapper Squad that a repeat won’t happen.

>Vader answer
>Sorrow at how things have become, but determined to see the Dark Side purged.

>Activity one
>Help Troxl find a suitable place to settle the Kakari Tribes.

>Activity two
>Inquire about hiring additional crew for the Albatross.

>>4669816
>>Clone answer.
>Yes. You have faith in Skipp and Scrapper Squad that a repeat won’t happen.
>>Vader answer.
>Sorrow at how things have become, but determined to see the Dark Side purged.
>>Activity one.
>Help Troxl find a suitable place to settle the Kakari Tribes.
>>Activity two.
>Ask around if anyone knew where Nomiana Whrul departed.

>>4669816
>>Clone answer.
>>Yes. You have faith in Skipp and Scrapper Squad that a repeat won’t happen.

>>Vader answer.
>>Sorrow at how things have become, but determined to see the Dark Side purged.

>>Activity one.
>>Inquire about hiring additional crew for the Albatross.

>>Activity two.
>>Ask around if anyone knew where Nomiana Whrul departed.

>>4669816
>Yes. You have faith in Skipp and Scrapper Squad that a repeat won’t happen.
I'm sure it can be drilled out of them.

>Sorrow at how things have become, but determined to see the Dark Side purged.
Anakin was a good kid, but we gotta do what we gotta do.

>Help Troxl find a suitable place to settle the Kakari Tribes.
We have a spear to return, goddammit.

Who is Nomiana Whrul?

>>4669816
>>Yes. You have faith in Skipp and Scrapper Squad that a repeat won’t happen.
>Sorrow at how things have become, but determined to see the Dark Side purged.
>Gather your crew and join the campaign/search on the Chiller.

>>4669927
>Who is Nomiana Whrul?

The Mando pilot we danced with at the Tipsy Toffer in the first thread.

>>4669816
>>Yes. You have faith in Skipp and Scrapper Squad that a repeat won’t happen.
>>>Sorrow at how things have become, but determined to see the Dark Side purged.
>>Ask around if anyone knew where Nomiana Whrul departed.
>>Follow up on any leads with the Revenant and the Storyteller.

>>4669816
>Yes. You have faith in Skipp and Scrapper Squad that a repeat won’t happen.
That being said, DEFINITELY talk with both them and Larid about what happened, see if we can't look at them from a force sensitive and medical angle to figure out what made them so easily swayed. I mean, it should be obvious in-character that it wasn't just a force persuasion, right? They're pretty clearly not foolish or weak willed, and it seemed to overpower them resisting rather than just...push them in that direction.
>Sorrow at how things have become, but determined to see the Dark Side purged.
>Help Troxl find a suitable place to settle the Kakari Tribes.
>Follow up on any leads with the Revenant and the Storyteller.

>>4669829
>>4669954
If you want to look into it, you'll need to take an action guys.

>>4669966
My suggestion was assuming that it would be used as a story mission that would constitute a stealthy infiltration mission that would run a few threads. We need more than just the clones in Scrapper Squad to do it, and that's going to take a lot of time trying to infiltrate the Imperial Navy and finding clones who had regular contact with Jedi commanders who they liked. Y'know, something long term, with story repercussions.

>>4669984
We're in no shape to do that, and we'd need somewhere to start before we'd even do it. If you don't vote to at least interact with hem we'll do nothing of the sort. This isn't like skyrim where people drop issues at your feet for you to solve. Gotta do groundwork first, and ignoring them means we don;t do it.

>>4669966
Oh, I figured that sort of thing would be just a part of that decision. Kaz, do I need to delete and repost with "Get Scrapper Squad check out" as its own action?

>>4670008

The choice was more of an attitude to take in regards to the clones. Not necessarily an action. But if you want, you can leave the post up there and just make a new one, linking to the old post that you wanted to change something.

Incidentally, I mentioned in thread #2 that I won’t be using inhibitor/control chips, in spite of the fact that they’re “technically” a part of Legends/EU prior to Disney. Never did like that addition.

>>4669816
>Yes. But at the first sign of any trouble, you will cut them down yourself.
The control is not particularly subtle. We only have to worry about a blaster in the back, nothing like political machinations, so even they themselves can consider how to be restrained.

>Anger at your friend’s betrayal, and burning desire to see justice for the Jedi Order.
Curiosity is fine for the fall, but dude murdered all the younglings.

>Follow up on any leads with the Revenant and the Storyteller.
>Help Troxl find a suitable place to settle the Kakari Tribes.

Another thread at long last? A surprise to be sure, but a welcome one.

Kreia spitting straight facts about Apathy and waiting on a savior, +1

Yes, but at the first sign of trouble...
and have them begin training the local planetary militia.

Supporting Resignation regarding Vader

Nomiana

Gecko Integration

Also, I agree 100% on inhibitor chips being wacky, taking any sort of agency and impact away from characters, just like making everyone reluctant revenants in the new MKs.

File: Suzel_01.jpg (23 KB, 221x500)

23 KB JPG

>>4669825
>>4669826
>>4669829
>>4669840
>>4669843
>>4669844
>>4669857
>>4669863
>>4669903
>>4669910
>>4669924
>>4669927
>>4669929
>>4669947
>>4669954
>>4670163

>You have faith in Skipp and Scrapper Squad that a repeat won’t happen again.
>Sorrow at how things have become, but determined to see the Dark Side Purged.

>Troxl/Kakari (10)
>Revenant (7)
>Nomiana (5)

The third day since your return begins no differently than any other day. The time differential between Amagi and Kakarit is mercifully small, only three or so odd hours. You rouse yourself, blinking the dust out of your eyes and the slight headache that had come with too much inebriation. You aren’t quite hungover, but it takes a good, long soak in the shower before you’re approaching maximum efficiency.

“You alright, boss?” Suzel inquires as you stumble into the mess hall. Elbawaraak makes a similar grunt of concern as you settle at the table for a quick breakfast of reheated protein. “…you look like you went a few rounds against a rancor.”

You frown. Surely you don’t look that bad? But you sigh quietly, picking up a fork to shove grains into your mouth. “Everything’s fine. Just had a long day yesterday, and another one ahead of me.”

Elba grunts. “Wrruuuuuhhh?”

“Physically? I’m fine. But mentally…” Pausing, you shrug as you chew on an unidentifiable strip of meat. “Feels like I did go a few rounds against a rancor.”

“Suggestion,” HK-82 declares on the countertop. The disembodied head alternates watching the organic crewmembers and B-33, the latter of whom struggles to handle cooking utensils. “Master, may I suggest taking iron or Vitamin D supplements? The merchant who sold me to you took them regularly in order to fight off scurvy and fatigue from long voyages in space.”

Not an entirely bad idea. As you make a mental note to ask for a prescription, you glance at your crew. In an effort to prevent any sort of awkward silence, you venture, “So, how’s shore leave been?”

Suzel beams as he chases down a glass of coffee. “Great, thanks for asking. Took some time to visit my father and see his new office, a modern miracle of architectural engineering. Thankfully devoid of undergrowth or jungle canopy!”

“Wruuuuh,” agrees the wookiee, before gesturing to the entirety of the ship. “Wraaaaah, wreeeeeh.”

HK-82, quick on the draw, dutifully states: “Translation: the wookiee has been spending his shore leave repairing damage sustained from Kakarit. He is nearly finished, but requires at least another day of work before setting off on another adventure.”

You whistle low, impressed. “You fixed everything by yourself?”

“Oy!” protests the nagai, scattering food as he waves his fork indignantly. “It was a group effort! Me, him, both droids…tried to get some of the M.D.S.F. engineers to help, but they had their hands full repairing ships limping back from the Chiller.”

(cont.)

File: Torok Lamal.png (99 KB, 400x400)

99 KB PNG

Ah, of course. It seems that your favor seems to have reached a limit, understandable as it might be. Wiping the corner of your mouth, you ask, “Any news from the front? I’ve heard that it’s a meatgrinder down there.”
Suzel nods. “Yeah, it’s…not bad, per se? We’re making progress and taking territory, but the bloody Tof aren’t making it easy.”

“Corner a rat, and it’ll bite,” you muse grimly. “Any specifics?”

He definitely had more than a few. Apparently, Hol had been getting regular reports from Suzui, now a colonel in the M.S.D.F., and had passed on the news to his son during a visit. More likely than not breaking a few security protocols in the process…not that anyone seems to be enforcing anything too strictly.

The first wave of the operation had involved starfighters making attack runs into the colony, and any outlying bunkers where the Tof had dug in. Between destroying artillery and anti-aircraft weaponry, they provided a distraction for the vanguard to make planetfall on the far side of the planet. The “beachhead” was a plateau just along the side of a high mountain, naturally shielding the invasion force from any sort of surface-borne ordinance.

To your surprise, you learn that Torok had made a name for himself among the other aces. Your brother had led the first wave of fighters into the primary base, blowing up weapons batteries and disabling generators. And as the latest intelligence had it, he’d been placed in charge of his own team, Blitz Squadron!

The corner of your mouth curves into a grin as relief spreads across your body. In your absence, it seems that your fellow Salamander had passed whatever test that Master Larid had set before him. You’ll definitely have to take time to catch up whenever he’s rotated out from the frontlines.

Suzel regales you of Master Aure and his mother, co-commanders of the vanguard fighting in brutal, subzero trench warfare. The nagai hesitantly notes that Suzui had been present when Aure discovered the younglings were missing…and regretfully within earshot of her furious shriek. But before he gets too far into describing the body count the two of them had made, the chrono on your wrist emits an electronic trill.

Hastily shoving food into your mouth, you thank your crew for the company and food before sprinting out of the Albatross. There wasn’t nearly enough time to ask about the missing younglings or Master Larid’s search, but you have a feeling that Suzel would’ve told you if something was amiss.

A shudder ripples through your body as you recall the “exercises” Master Larid made you do whenever you got too fresh for your own good. Recalling the mad gleam in his eyes that still haunts your nightmares, you almost feel bad for the brats and what’s coming to them.

Almost.

(cont.)

File: Hero-King Troxl.jpg (183 KB, 581x1144)

183 KB JPG

>>Later...

With Supreme Archon Keimann supervising the invasion of the Chiller, maintenance of the government fell to the myriad Archons he’d left in charge. The nature of the stratocracy meant the ministers were all entirely military, each with the gold bars denoting ranks of at least colonel or higher. But each had a cabinet of civilian experts and advisors to educate them as best they could in their respective subjects.

The Archon of Planetary Development, a lithe pantoran with the rank of brigadier general, looks uncomfortable as Hero-King Troxl stares unblinkingly towards him. The Kakari had not spared any expense in presenting himself as the leader of his people, appearing in his full battle-dress and regalia. Occasionally, Troxl licks his lips, but otherwise remains intensely focused upon the Archon.

Upon your arrival, visible relief breaks across the bureaucrat’s face. He stands up, almost shoving his chair backwards as you step into his office, a modest space decorated with maps of Amagi. These run the gamut from topographic to biome, with most devoted to the myriad cities and settlements scattered across the planet.

“Ah, Master Jedi!” He takes your hand and pumps it vigorously. “Thank you for taking the time to schedule this meeting. Allow me to introduce myself. I’m Brigadier General Sheng Sanada, Archon of Planetary Development. Please, take a seat. Do you require any refreshments?”

You politely decline, and meet Troxl’s gaze.

“Sings-of-Devouring-Darkness,” the Kakari grunts. “Where’s my Sunstone Spear?”

You nod in return. “Hero-King Troxl. Did you need to dress up for all of this?”

His lips spread into a grin as you take the seat adjacent to him. “Only dressing as necessary for stately function.”
“The Sunstone Spear locked in my starship, awaiting delivery to the Globus upon completion of this meeting,” you quietly finish.

With pleasantries out of the way, the three of you prepare to talk business.

“We are, of course, more than willing to accommodate your arrival,” Sanada explains. He takes a moment to activate the holoprojector on his desk, displaying a 3D map of the immediate area. “I have the immediate authority to prepare a space within Serano Spaceport for interim housing for the Kakari.”

Troxl squints. “Interim?”

“Temporary housing. We’ve taken your physiology into account, and feel that it would be prudent to settle you first within the city. You’ll be able to start moving your people into the area as soon as the conclusion of this meeting!”

Jedi and King squint at the offered land. To call it a “ghetto” would be rude, especially since it’s two square blocks of warehouses. Warehouses, in the Archon’s defense, that look like they’d been recently renovated and reinforced to be brought up to standard. Most likely stored raw materials, by their close proximity to the market and industrial district.

(cont.)

File: Brigadeer General Sanada.jpg (28 KB, 300x300)

28 KB JPG

“Can the city bear the burden of seven hundred refugees?” you inquire.

Sanada nodded. “I understand that your ship has surplus-”

“Where is the grazing land for our beasts of burden?” Troxl suddenly interrupts, scrutinizing the hologram with a narrow eye.

“Beasts of burden…?” The Archon frowns, perplexed. “I was…unaware that you had brought livestock with you-”

But before he can finish, the Kakari interjects once more, “You say this is interim. Temporary. How long is this ‘interim’? Where will my people go?”

Sanada’s smile is only slightly strained at the Kakari’s bluntness, but doesn’t break his professionalism. “Regretfully, the bulk of our resources are currently engaged in warfare at the edge of the system. But once the conflict is over, we’ll have the manpower to add a neighborhood in Serano-”

“‘Neighborhood?’” Troxl looks at you. “What is a ‘neighborhood?’”

Resisting the urge to sigh, you quietly answer, “They’re planning to have you live within the city…”

“In city?” The Hero-King looks amazed, but not in awe or wonder. Shaking his head, Troxl raises a talon, pointing first at the blip representing Serano Spaceport, then trailing away with a wide, sweeping gesture. “More space out here in the wild, outside of the city! Kakari have no need for the metal buildings. We will be perfectly fine to build Nest’s Beginnings without your help.”

“The wilderness?” Sanada’s tone is equal measures offended and befuddled. “Hero-King, please be reasonable! You’ve only just arrived on Amagi, and have only begun to settle in. We are still in the middle of processing your tribe and clans. And development of the wilds is currently not on the books for at least another decade!”

That causes you to start. “A decade? But you’re the Archon of Planetary Development.”

“And the Supreme Archon wants to focus on urbanization of the current cities before thinking of expanding into the wilderness,” the pantoran explains with a huff. But his attention returns to Troxl, and he entreats him once more. “The wilderness may not be ready for the livestock you bring. Already, the savannahs and plains are inhabited by fearsome predators: Roque Ja! They have no fear in attacking our armed convoys, and easily shrug off laser fire. What more for…”

He pauses, gawking at the crude collection of feathers and armor that hang off of Troxl’s body. “…what more for unprepared settlers?”

Troxl looks contemplative. “…how big do these Roque Jas get?”

“Only slightly shorter than a Tall Walker,” you reply, recalling an image that Keimann had showed you, “…but they make up in their weight by almost half a ton.”

Without being prompted, Sanada reaches for a datapad, and pulls an image of said predator onto the screen. Passing it on to Troxl, however, seems to have an opposite effect of deterrence. The Hero-King rubs the pommel of his tooth-sword.

(cont.)

“…it has been far too long since a Great Hunt,” he eventually says, handing the pad back with a wide smile. “Wilderness is perfect for the Kakari!”

The Archon looks a hop, skip and a jump away from his wits’ end. “Your…your highness, please be reasonable! The land you might wish to settle might become designated as part of a zoning project. I would hate to have to relocate you-”

“Ten years is plenty time to build another settlement,” Troxl states flatly.

“How…” Sanada tugs at the collar of his uniform. “…how many do you intend to build?”

“However many are needed to house a stable population of my people. I predict many egg-clutches to be born soon. And I fear that this…warehouse neighborhood will not be enough.”

“We can always clear out more buildings! And renovate them for your use!”

“I do not wish to impose any further than necessary. The Kakari are hardy and strong. We survived far worse than an oversized, half-ton of fur and claw. Can easily settle wilderness, far away from any major city for a very long time. We'll come to trade and offer tithe as you see fit.”

You’ve been silent as they keep on going back and forth. Both have valid points and weaknesses. There doesn’t seem to be an immediate right answer that either of them can come to. Which is why they turn towards you: Sanada, with a plea for help and reason in his eyes; Troxl, with the gaze of one friend to another.

>>Please select an option:
>Take Sanada’s side, and convince Troxl to make compromises with the hosts of his new homeworld.
>Take Troxl’s side, and insist that the Kakari be given land in the wilderness to create a new settlement.
>Custom option. (Write-in)

[VOTE OPEN FOR EIGHT HOURS]

>>4670533
>>Take Troxl’s side, and insist that the Kakari be given land in the wilderness to create a new settlement.
I really don’t see much of a reason to disagree with Troxl

>>4670533
>Take Troxl’s side, and insist that the Kakari be given land in the wilderness to create a new settlement.
"If the Kakari say they can handle it, they can handle it. And this way, they do not detract from the war effort. A win-win scenario, for the moment."

>>4670533
>>Take Troxl’s side, and insist that the Kakari be given land in the wilderness to create a new settlement.
fuck cities, kill monsters

>>4670533
>Take Troxl’s side, and insist that the Kakari be given land in the wilderness to create a new settlement.

I mean doesnt that solve the ambush problems?

>>4670533
>Take Troxl’s side, and insist that the Kakari be given land in the wilderness to create a new settlement.
For the Kakari to carry themselves with pride, they need to challenge themselves among the local fauna and prove that they can adapt. They may not be ready to help with the war effort now, but this way that time may come much sooner than we expect.

But there may be problems with population and territory.
>Insist that some of the Kakari take lessons in family planning and tour the city to understand how they house many in small spaces.
>Float the idea of a rock-shifted underground network, whether for transport, evacuation bunkers, or otherwise.

>>4670533
>>Take Troxl’s side, and insist that the Kakari be given land in the wilderness to create a new settlement.

Seconding the anon about Kakari needing to conquer the wilderness, although family planning seems redundant since they survived with scant resources underground for untold generations.

What exactly was meant when Kreia said this?
"True humility is not one thinking less of him or herself, but thinking less of one’s self."

>>4670590
Thats the problem dude. Theyve been living on scarce resources for centuries, before Jombaral even came. They are not prepared for abundant resources, radically increased life expectancy, and overpopulation.

They might know about waste disposal though

>>4669853
>much edge, wow

>>4670590
>What exactly was meant when Kreia said this?
>"True humility is not one thinking less of him or herself, but thinking less of one’s self."
She’s saying that humility isn’t thinking less (qualitative) about yourself but thinking less (quantitative) about yourself overall. That’s my take on it

>>4670533
>Take Troxl’s side, and insist that the Kakari be given land in the wilderness to create a new settlement.

I mean I don't see why not. Think of it this way, the Kakari can hekp you kick start your wilderness settlement project early!

>>4670570
Support

Also glad to see this quest back

>>4670533
>>Take Troxl’s side, and insist that the Kakari be given land in the wilderness to create a new settlement.

>>4670533
>Take Troxl’s side, and insist that the Kakari be given land in the wilderness to create a new settlement.

>>4670533
>Take Troxl’s side, and insist that the Kakari be given land in the wilderness to create a new settlement.

Ask Troxl if he’s okay with a few Kakari stay in the city to integrate with the citizens and act as the tribe’s representatives to the city.

>>4670533
>Before taking a side try to better explain the viewpoints of the other to their peer.

>>4670533
>Take Troxl’s side, and insist that the Kakari be given land in the wilderness to create a new settlement.

Introduce them to blasters, they could be given older models. Useful for kill birds or animals at longer distances.... beside the army might like to recruit a few of them for wars in future years.
As well other technologies. Agriculture, construction and so on.

>Take Troxl’s side, and insist that the Kakari be given land in the wilderness to create a new settlement.

Even slugthrowers would be of use to them, and require less maintenance than blasters.

>>4670720
It’s a bit late, but adding onto this, maybe we could ask if the Kakari could build a temple or embassy in one of the designated areas, as some sort of means for the government to meet with Kakari leaders without needing to go into the wilderness, and to allow the Tribe a voice in local politics.

>>4670538
>>4670544
>>4670551
>>4670568
>>4670570
>>4670581
>>4670590
>>4670665
>>4670667
>>4670672
>>4670688
>>4670720
>>4670984
>>4671009
>>4671036

“If the Hero-King says that his people can handle it,” you smoothly interject, “Then I believe that they can handle it. And in this way, they won’t detract from the war effort. They’ll be in charge of clearing out their own living space. A win-win effort for both parties involved.”

The Kakari are a hardy people, fiercely proud and stubborn in the face of adversary. One needn’t look further than the threat of extinction, whether it be a slow attrition to an outright invasion of Nest’s End. Of course, they aren’t nearly stupid enough to accept help when they clearly need it…at least, with the exception of Troxl’s late father.

Partnership and services exchanged is more than welcome. Charity, on the other hand, seems to be something to be viewed with wariness. A scholar of xenoscience might attribute this way of thinking to the last four thousand years they spent in hiding underground. While not nearly so cold as to begin culling their own numbers for the sake of maintaining efficiency, a mentality of “survival of the fittest” seems to pervade the Kakari culture.

Troxl makes no effort to hide his approval. But the Archon isn’t bothering either to hide his reservations. Clearing his throat, he looks askance at the projected space where the Kakari’s talon points. “…this is…highly unorthodox. New as it is, there is a certain degree of protocol that needs to be followed.”

“What manner of protocol?” you query.

The pantoran coughs, sipping from a glass before speaking, “The Supreme Archon and your Jedi Master Aure took the time to outline several laws in regards to refugees. They felt that in light of how…blatant and provocative the revolution had been, the system might become a haven for slaves fleeing oppression. There were, of course, several other vessels that managed to escape from the spaceport, not only just those of the Tof remnant. And word of mouth is a very powerful tool, no?”

Ah. That…would make enough sense. “I take it that we aren’t the first then?”

“No, you aren’t,” confirms the Archon, idly glancing towards a stack of papers on the other side of his desk. “Protocol dictates that we give the refugees a certain amount of time to acclimate to life in the stratocracy as they get their bearings in order. I won’t bore you with the minutia, but while it’s expected for refugees to clique together, they’ll be mostly…assimilated into the Alliance as part of a persistent war economy.

“Those that aren’t soldiers will be laborers in either construction, agriculture, industry, and what have you based upon their skills. Master Aure might be able to explain it better, but she’s currently spearheading the invasion on the Chiller.”

(cont.)

That’s…well, they’ve certainly come a long way from a barely cohesive mob of slaves. With that said, you’re still somewhat leery in regards to “assimilation”. As is Troxl, even if he didn’t understand everything. Just the bare minimum to be leery towards the Archon.

“…the Kakari will pay tithe for living on the planet, and send soldiers to march with you,” the Wise King states with the placidness of the calm before the storm, “But we will not be deprived of our identity. Allies, yes. Assimilated? Never.”

“No one is demanding of such a thing,” assures Sanada, almost offended at how much bite the last word had.

But you know why Troxl is leery. Even if it isn’t quite the same “literal” assimilation that Jombaral wished for the Kakari, the integration within the Mylar Star Alliance isn’t something the Kakari would be too keen with. Pride and stubbornness, and their own streak of self-reliance, for better or worse.

Coughing to clear the air, you interject, “Archon, I think we can agree that there are many arguments and points to be made. But first and foremost is that the Kakari are not like any refugees that’ve arrived since the revolution.”

He gives you a flat look, almost as if saying “get on with it”. And to that, you acquiesce: “The Kakari aren’t slaves. Refugees, certainly, but of something hellbent on giving them a fate worse than death. Normal protocol doesn’t apply to them.”

It’s rules-lawyering at its best, and both you and the Archon know it. But to mollify him, you add, “Troxl, perhaps it would be best to establish an embassy in the space provided by the Archon.”

“An embassy,” repeats the Kakarit with a dubious tone.

“An intermediary place for you to meet and discuss affairs of state. Not unlike your own Obsidian Throne, but a more…neutral ground for both parties to meet.”

He seems to be receptive to that idea, at the very least. “That is…acceptable. Embassy and settlement in the wilds…”

Switching tactics, you speak to Sanada, “The Kakari will tame the wilderness beyond the spaceport. I’ve seen first hand with what they can offer as ‘tithe’. Their fighters are fierce, and will be even more deadly once you teach them how to use blasters. Their beasts of burden require little water to survive, and they’re masters of underground exploration.

“It will be an investment that you’d be ill-pressed not to take.”

Sanada looks almost ready to agree. You can see the gears turning in his head as he runs the math in his thoughts. But he isn’t about to cave nearly just yet. With a sigh, he replies: “The Supreme Archon will be notified about this development.”

You nod. “Of course.”

“…this may set a dangerous precedent for future refugees to create their own enclaves outside of the M.S.D.F. purview,” he grumbles.

(cont.)

File: Bloody Page.jpg (98 KB, 736x460)

98 KB JPG

True. But you’ll have to get word to Keimann that the Kakari are a special case. And both you and Sanada know that he’ll listen to you. Besides, if you’re going to call in a favor owed from the revolution, you might as well do them on someone else’s behalf. The Albatross had been a perfect gift.

The pantoran exhales wearily, finishing the remainder of water in his glass. Then, he regards the two of you with perhaps the driest look he can muster before offering his hand to Troxl.

“…until the Supreme Archon returns with a final verdict, this meeting is adjourned,” he intones, “But should he send word of his approval…I’ll begin making both the preparations and arrangements to best place the Kakari.”

Unlike your first few meetings, Troxl now knows the significance of a handshake. The feathers in his headdress and charms bob as the Kakari and Sanada clasp hands and pump once before letting go.

Diplomacy is truly a wonderful thing.

>>Later…

There are a few errands you need to complete before you can pursue any leads on the Revenant. There is a matter of messaging Kiemann, and giving an abridged, watered-down version of the events that took place on Kakarit. Interwoven between the text are hints of cashing in a favor that have the subtlety of an exploding star.

And then the Sunstone Spear. You gave the weapon a final cleaning before returning it to the Kakari. The Communion personally arrives to receive it, with Eztil at the lead. Bos’ apprentice still looks uncertain at both her new role as Grand Shamanka, advisor to Troxl, and the new planet the Kakari will be calling home. But she visibly relaxes as you give her the spear, managing a soft smile and a bow before they’re shuttled back to the Globus.

Now, for the Revenant and the Storyteller…

The only leading clue from the site where she fell had been a page. Said page, according to the report you read, had spontaneously combusted before it could be retrieved and secured. But the workers had managed to take a picture before its immolation. It had been neatly delivered to the Albatross on a dataslate, in addition to some observations the Aure had made upon its discovery.

Master Larid didn’t have time to take too close of a look. He’d had to settle in the additional members of his crew, as well as prepare for your return from Kakarit. But you have enough information to work with.

Sitting in the mess hall, with a steaming mug of tea courtesy of B-33, you study the image with a fierce intensity. The ancient language of the Sith is certainly not an easy thing to read. But you have a firm grasp of it, even if you have no desire to speak or commit it to paper. Master Aure’s rough translation provides just enough of a springboard for you to base your research on…

(cont.)

But from there, it’s brute force heuristics as you try and puzzle out what the hell the damned thing’s referring to. The fact that the page is covered in half-dried blood does absolutely no favors in making heads or tails out of the runes of the ancient foe.

“Leviathan…” you murmur, frowning at Aure’s scribbles, then to what few notes you have on your own dataslate on the subject. Which admittedly isn’t much; the bulk of knowledge of the Sith is on the Bantha, but it's enough to provide context and speculation, if not immediate one-to-one vocabulary. “…threshold…chase, follow…action not undone…exultation…joy…?”

>>Roll 2d6 + 6 Sith (+2 Stat, +1 Skill, +3 Bonus)
>Best out of three.

Rolled 2, 1 + 6 = 9 (2d6 + 6)

>>4671699

Rolled 1, 1 + 6 = 8 (2d6 + 6)

>>4671699
Not off to a good start, I see.

File: 1568813007700.png (24 KB, 124x128)

24 KB PNG

>>4671726
>snake eyes

Rolled 5, 6 + 6 = 17 (2d6 + 6)

>>4671699

Rolled 3, 5 + 6 = 14 (2d6 + 6)

>>4671699
DOUBLES

File: The_sound_of_poggers.png (190 KB, 340x330)

190 KB PNG

>>4671743
Clutch

>>4671743
Good show, anon

File: Datapad.jpg (105 KB, 700x700)

105 KB JPG

>>4671700
>>4671726
>>4671743

>>Clutch, but with a Critical Failure.
>>Interpreting this from the FFG Narrative Dice system...
>>Interpreted as a successful roll, albeit significant Despair.

What is written on the image is not merely the Common Sith found in the relics of the Old Republic. These would be the tarnished records that detail everyday life, the mundane and observations clinically noted and drier in prose than legal code. This is High Sith, the hieroglyphs and letterings reserved exclusively for the highest castes when the Sith flourished on Korriban. Comparable runes could be found in the forbidden holocrons stored in the Jedi Temple, created by only the darkest adepts and masters of Sith Sorcery.

Your skin crawls with every passing minute you take to decipher the page. Every so often, you have to shift in your seat, scratch your arm, distract yourself or do anything to alleviate the discomfort that comes from scrutinizing the letters. Progress, if nothing else, is at least being made. But even as you eke out word after word, analyze grammar and syntax, you dare not speak the language used by the enemies of the Jedi.

At least, you won’t speak what’s on the page before running it through Basic first.

“…shall pass…hero…threshold…?” you translate, scribbling the words onto a nearby scrap of paper. “The hero shall pass the threshold…”

Verb, subject and object. This is the most typical declarative word order of the language. And for the most part, the words on the page don’t break this structure. But the cost for this relative straightforward presentation is infuriatingly vague or outright abstract statements that don’t make any sense.

Of course, this is to be expected, given you have only one page. The text continues a line of thought from a prior page, referencing a formless monster before diverging into a wild tangent about the sexuality of…honestly, you have no idea. The author at least took the time to add footnotes when referencing an alien species that believe in what you can roughly translate to “women between the trees”, and then to another that holds superstition about a one-legged, one-eyed demon that offers treasure should it be defeated.

How delightful. The Revenant seems to have dropped a page from her cultural studies textbook…that just so happens to have been written by a Sith, quite literally with blood. And some sort of vellum. You aren’t quite sure what died to give the page a very…off-color hue, but something had donated its skin to the cause. Or someone, in the case of those ghoulish enough to bind their books with the skin of sentient beings.

“I’m a Jedi Shadow, not a xenoscientist, dammit,” you curse as you collapse back into your seat. The coffee B-33 poured for you has long since gone cold, but you down it anyway. The joints of your spine pop and crack as you stretch, flexing like a cat before you stand up to go refill your mug and go back to the grind.

(cont.)

“I’m a Jedi Shadow, not a xenoscientist, dammit."

Hah! I love a good Buck Rogers reference.

>>4672900
Of course, knowing how insidious the Sith can go…you wouldn’t be surprised to discover if someone had been forced to “donate” their skin in some sort of depraved ritual of the Dark Side. You shiver, suppressing a sneeze as you scratch your arm lightly. The discomfort you feel lodged firmly in your bones won’t be going away for a long time, you think.

But armed with what knowledge you have and Master Aure’s notes, you’re able to make significant progress. Disregarding any cultures or species that might now be extinct, you manage to eke out a sort of…

…honestly, you aren’t sure what it is. But zooming in as close as you can without losing the image to hyper-pixilation reveals a series of words dotting the corners of the page. Someone had written in the margins as well, detailing an incomplete story. Not nearly enough to make out anything concrete, as it references stars without coordinates or aliens without discernable features. But a consistent subject remains, described by the epithets ascribed to her:

Anguished One who Speaks and Lives for the Dead.

Dark Disciple of a Vanished Star and Blackened Moon.

Final, Vengeful Scream of the Shadowed Valley..

The itch in your arm abates as you address it, idly scratching as you jot down the titles borne by the Revenant. Borne, self-assigned, or chosen? The madwoman doesn’t seem the kind to assign herself flowery epithets. Logically, you can assume that these were chosen by her dark master, the pureblood Sith referring to himself as the Storyteller.

Which suddenly makes a surprising amount of sense, considering the subject of the page. But you aren’t nearly done. Just a final sentence in the margins before you’ll call it quits. Beyond the physical discomfort of being hunched over, and the mental fatigue of parsing through the teachings of the Dark Side, you need a very long, nice, hot shower.

“…pursue or chase…I, or the person speaking…” You take a moment to squint at the last word. Master Aure had been on the right track with this last translation. “Bliss” is the right translation, referencing exaltation as a feeling. But the addition of a singular word changes everything, structuring the joy not as some abstract emotion, but something owned and specific.

“…I follow my bliss,” you whisper softly, as all noise seems to flee the interior of the mess hall. Then, you restructure the sentence in the context of the page. It is equal measures a commandment, as well as a teaching. “Follow your bliss…?”

Indeed.

There is no warning as the itching, uncomfortable sensation in your arm explodes violently, and turns your world into pain.

(cont.)

Oh dear.

>>4672934
Oh, well that's not good.

Really starting to dislike this Storyteller guy. He keeps pulling this kind of stunt whenever we meet.

>>4672934

Appliances and equipment come crashing down, following you to the floor as you writhe in agony. A scream tears itself from your throat, raw and guttural as an unseen vice. The pain is familiar enough, the same kind of agony your arm had suffered when you tried to save the Revenant from falling down the Opulent Palace. But there isn’t any physical damage, even as your fingers gesticulate wildly and your muscles strain and ripple beneath your skin.

Even severed from the whole, the shard persists.

For a brief moment, as the agony reaches a new height, your mind almost seems to disconnect from your senses. And in that moment of clarity, you struggle to reconcile the reality of the situation.

Is this destiny or fate to mark both Revenant and Shadow?

“How-?!” The question comes out of your throat more like a snarling croak than any verbal query. But your thoughts finish for you. Prior to your departure to rescue Arotta, you’d taken the time to purge the taint of the Dark Side from your arm. How does that golden-eyed bastard have any connection-?

That is the wrong question.

And all coherent thought leaves your mind as the flesh of your right hand begins to visibly warp. Skin distends, bones grind, and muscle tears as meat of your hand contorts, shaping itself into something resembling a rune.

Don’t struggle, Jedi, the voice croons, This is merely a form of bliss...

>>Please roll 2d10 + 10 to Sever Force. (+3 Will, +2 Skill, +5 Affinity).
>Best out of three.

>>4673140
what the fug

Rolled 10, 5 + 10 = 25 (2d10 + 10)

>>4673140

Rolled 3, 6 + 10 = 19 (2d10 + 10)

>>4673140
YOU PICKED THE WRONG HOUSE FOOL

Rolled 6, 4 + 10 = 20 (2d10 + 10)

>>4673140
Ow ow ow

"Coughio up el Sith secretos before I blast your brains out all over the transparisteelio"

I take it our arm troubles will not cease until we get robit-arms.

File: K-Wing_NEGVV.jpg (210 KB, 1200x791)

210 KB JPG

>>4669323
WE BACK IN BUSINESS, BOYS!

>>4673144
>>4673148
>>4673156

The Force responds to your plea for aid, rushing to your side as you conjure power within yourself. Discharging an ability in the heat of passion is a dangerous thing to do, but you have little choice. Whatever happens, you’d rather deal with that fallout than with whatever the Storyteller is doing with your hand.

“Get out…of my head!” you scream, and release the power.

Objects go flying as the telekinetic wave rushes across the mess hall. Glass shatters and electronics short-circuit as the Force causes the surrounding area to shudder and warp.

In an instant, the sensation of your flesh breaking down and forming into something utterly alien ceases. The sensation of lightning and liquid metal coursing through your arm vanishes, and the offending limb drops slack against your side. But the damage is done, if no longer threatening.

A half-formed rune juts from the back of your right hand, almost resembling the scar tissue of a brand. Extensive treatment will be required to undo the damage, possibly including enclosure in bacta.

An interesting decision...to starve the shard of power...

Bile rises to the back of your throat, but you swallow it fiercely. However it's happened, the bastard's still here.

Little wonder the shard was broken from the whole, with power such as this...

The voice is a whisper, fading with every passing word and second. It makes no effort to raise its voice, to shout or rave like the Dark Jedi you'd brought to ruin. It almost seems disappointed, like a father to a particularly petulant child. Speaking from nowhere, unable to see as you turn frantically in the mess hall, it only continues to posture as its voice diminishes.

You would make an excellent hero...and your journey would be a worthy addition...

You breathe hard, isolating the source of the voice as a faint, lingering presence at the tip of your fingers. It pulses weakly, a sliver of the Dark Side cut off from the host it had latched upon.

But no matter. When you meet the whole once more, another offer may be made...another story collected...

>>What will you do?
>Attempt negotiations with the shard.
>Let the fragment starve and die.
>Custom option.

[VOTE OPEN FOR THREE HOURS]

>>4673259
>>Let the fragment starve and die.

>>4673259
>>Custom option.
Push it into a pinky and then sever it from your body

>>4673259
>Let the fragment starve and die.

>>4673259
>>Let the fragment starve and die.

>>4673259
>>Let the fragment starve and die.

>>4673259
>Let the fragment starve and die.
The only evil force entity we're serving is Sidious once he gets tired of Vader.

>>4673259
>>Attempt negotiations with the shard.
i need to know more

>>4673259
>>Attempt negotiations with the shard.

Negotiations

>>4673259
This isn't the sort of thing you can stick in a holocron, right?
>Pull out the kakerox crystal as a focus, try to figure out more specific mental models for attacking the shard as it dies.

Changing my "negotiations" vote to seconding the crystal focus plan.

File: maxresdefault.jpg (92 KB, 1280x720)

92 KB JPG

>>4673259
>Attempt negotiations with the shard
Are we seriously dealing with another evil force entity so close to the last one? How many assholes are on this ship anyhow?

File: EtTiCtwXMAcRKCR.jpg (24 KB, 540x456)

24 KB JPG

>>4673489
>>4673508
>>4673611
HERETICS!

>>4673259
>Pull out the kakerox crystal as a focus, try to figure out more specific mental models for attacking the shard as it dies.

>>4673259
>Let the fragment starve and die.
In an Ideal world, though, if possible, I'd say
>Keep it barely alive till Larid can be contacted again, because it would be good to get a second set of eyes on this what-the-fuckery before removing it completely.

>>4673722
That's actually not a terrible idea, he is an expert on these sorts of things

Supporting

>>4673259
>Let the fragment starve and die.

File: Brand of the Storyteller (...).png (77 KB, 287x412)

77 KB PNG

>>4673263
>>4673267
>>4673269
>>4673273
>>4673298
>>4673315
>>4673722
>>4673823

You’ll give the damned thing no quarter. Even if it had made overtures to try and negotiate, you’d have refused in in the span of a heartbeat. A Jedi Shadow gives no quarter against the machinations against those seeped of the Dark Side. And you’d be a damned idiot to try and talk after it tried to brand you with Force knows what.

>>You have gained Light Side points.

This is no matter…you will still serve, in one way or another...

The voice is little more than a quiet whisper, mist that only lingers before the arrival of the dawn. Starved of the energy to sustain itself, it only has seconds of self-realization before utter oblivion.

…every heroine needs a dragon to slay, to test herself against…

The presence within your fingertips, like an oil befouling a spring, disappears into the void. All that it leaves behind is a disoriented Jedi, a terrible mess within the Albatross, and a satisfied leer.

…a stepping stone on the journey towards the object of her vengeance …

>>Later

Elba and Suzel know better than to ask questions when they return to the ship and find you meditating on the floor. Professionalism gives them a handful of seconds to look agape at the mess before they start cleaning up. Not to say you aren’t a slob; you’d taken the time to mop up the coffee so it wouldn’t stain the floor.

But beyond that, you aren’t taking any chances. The rest of your day was spent in meditation, embracing the Light Side of the Force to scourge your body of whatever taint might be left. The Storyteller, Jombaral…you don’t give a damn, and are certainly not taking any chances. Only once you’re absolutely sure that your soul is as clean as it can get before you unstick your legs and exit the trance.

“Sorry about the mess,” you apologize lowly, joining your crew in the cleanup effort. “…homework got the better of me.”

Elba doesn’t look too bothered, merely grunting as you help replace the pots and pans in their respective cubbyholes. But Suzel’s eyes are sharper than the wookiee’s. The nagai points a nervous finger towards your right hand, venturing hesitantly, “I knew a slave back before the revolution who was good with tattoos. He could…get that removed for you…?”

If only the damage to your hand was the result of some drunken, impulse tattoo the likes of which could be found on the students at the University of Coruscant. The worst of the damage is purely superficial; your nerves still function as well as they can, and your talent with a lightsaber remains undiminished. With all that said, it’s incredibly unpleasant to look at.

Still, you bark a dry, sardonic laugh and shake your head. “…maybe later. And only once I get a doctor to look at this.”

(cont.)

File: Sha Koon.png (410 KB, 540x720)

410 KB PNG

>>Line Break

On the fourth day since your return, Master Larid calls you to let you know that all twelve younglings on the Chiller are in his custody.

Even through the communicator, you can hear both the disappointment and the blood pressure in his voice as he recounts the story. And when he’s finished, you can feel the onset of a migraine approaching. To say that you’re angry would be wrong; it isn’t anger as much as both relief that no one was killed, as well as the fact that these children might literally be the death of you.

“I’ll be back on Amagi in the afternoon, local time,” he says in a clipped tone, “So take care of whatever business you need to do before meeting me at the docks. Beyond giving one hell of a scolding, there’s a matter of discussion that needs to happen.”

“Potential padawans?” you ask with an uncertain feeling in your chest.

“Potential padawans,” he confirms. “Because at the very least, I know we can elevate two, maybe three of the brat pack to that rank…even if they’re still immature to do something as stupid as sneaking onto the Chiller.”

You wisely decide to not mention that in the thirteen years of apprenticeship, the two of you had done similar acts of reckless idiocy. But it doesn’t take much brain power to figure out that at least two of those three Jedi are yourself and Larid. Arotta and Master Kosa are still recovering from Kakarit campaign; Aure and Torok are on the Chiller with the M.S.D.F.

“Who is the third Jedi?” you ask.

“That would be me,” breathes a thin, modulated voice, entering the conversation on another line. “Jedi Knight Sha Koon. I believe we met briefly upon your return from the jungle planet?”

Sha Koon! The niece of Master Plo Koon, renowned Jedi Master and General during the Clone Wars. You don’t bother holding back a grin as you reply, “Yeah, I think we did. Not more than a handful of seconds, though.”

“Indeed. I look forward to a second, more prolonged encounter.”

Once her line’s gone slack, and she’s confirmed to be out of the conversation, you query, “What do you mean when you said ‘maybe’ three? Is there something wrong with Koon?”

It’s not too hard to visualize the look of consternation on his face. “It’s…complicated.”

“How so?”

He clicks his tongue, inhaling sharply. “…I’ll explain it in full once we make planetfall. But I’ll give you the abridged version: she was there in the Temple when Vader led the clones, and she’s got it in her head that she’s supposed to be the one to kill him.”

The emotional whiplash you feel could’ve snapped your neck, even as the blood in your veins turns to ice. “What?!”

(cont.)

“…like I said: complicated, as well as the fact that she knows that Vader is Skywalker. Finish whatever business you need taking care of. I’ll see you in eight hours.”

With little more than a grunt of farewell, Larid cuts the line, leaving you and that doozy of a mental image stuck in your head.

>>Please select one activity:
>Ask around if anyone knew where Nomiana Whrul departed.
>Check in with the Clones to discuss what happened in Nest's End.
>Help the local milita flush out a recently-excavated Tof panic bunker.
>Inquire about hiring more crewmates for the Albatross.
>Search for more leads on the Revenant and the Storyteller.
>Custom option. [Write-in]

[VOTE OPEN FOR FIVE HOURS

>>4674027
>>Search for more leads on the Revenant and the Storyteller.

File: cc8.png (63 KB, 225x225)

63 KB PNG

>>4674015
>Wanting to kill Vader
>Every Heroine needs a Dragon
>A stepping stone to Vengeance
Call me crazy but I think we're in the middle of a self-fulfilling prophecy. If that is the case then I think our best bet is to stay the hell away from the this storyteller dude. it's a lose-lose situation, either she wants to go kill Vader and we stop her, likely dyijg or being injured in the process, or she goes to off to kill Vader and gets merced regardless, all according to his design.

>>4674027
>Help the local milita flush out a recently-excavated Tof panic bunker.

We've been meaning to for a while, I say we go do it already.

>>4674027
>>Help the local milita flush out a recently-excavated Tof panic bunker.

>>4674027
>>Check in with the Clones to discuss what happened in Nest's End.

>>4674027
>>Check in with the Clones to discuss what happened in Nest's End.

>>4674027
>Search for more leads on the Revenant and the Storyteller.
Rather not have a True Sith running around with a direct hotline into our head.

>>4674027
>Help the local milita flush out a recently-excavated Tof panic bunker.

>>4674027
>Check in with the Clones to discuss what happened in Nest's End.

If we're not cutting ties with them, best to make sure the situation is resolved.

Nomiana Whrul

Then look for new companions.

We might have time to raid the bunker after that, those shouldn't take up too much time.

>>4674174
>Please select one activity

>>4674027
>>4674111
> >Check in with the Clones
Switching to clones to move this faster, and to ensure they don’t accidentally scare the younglings to death.

>>4674027
>>Check in with the Clones to discuss what happened in Nest's End.

>>4674027
>Check in with the Clones to discuss what happened in Nest's End.

File: Commander Skipp.png (798 KB, 801x1167)

798 KB PNG

>>4674062
>>4674079
>>4674134
>>4674253
>>4674335
>>4674571

The Clones linger on the Globus, stuck in military limbo for lack of a better term. You aren’t quite sure how to introduce them to the rest of the Jedi, even if you and Master Kosa could have vouched for them. Of course, that line of thinking is only possible in a reality where they nearly didn’t loose control and try to shoot you.

Still, they don’t seem to mind. The borrowed hangar they’ve settled into is comfortable enough, in their own words. But you have the feeling that until Cooper gets the hang of his new limbs, mechanical or otherwise, they won’t be going too far away.

Thus, the scene. Oann walks Cooper through some physical therapy, an exercise in stacking blocks of metal with a shiny, new cybernetic arm. Trykov helps Stye polish and repair the Burn Trooper’s armor as Evo’s legs peek out from out of his AT-RT. Roppock has disassembled his weapon, inspecting it for wear and tear under the watchful eye of his commanding officer.

“Master Jedi,” Skipp greets as you enter into the hangar. “Wasn’t expecting to see you today.”

You smile wryly. “Yeah, sorry for dropping in on short notice.”

“Not a problem. You ready to resume your firearms training?”

“Maybe next time.” The glib drains out of your voice, and Skipp stands to attention as your posture shifts. “…my master’s coming back from the Chiller. He’ll be here in a couple of hours.”

The commander nods. “He found your younglings, then?”

“Yep. All twelve, and I don’t pity ‘em in the slightest for what they’ve brought down on themselves.”

“How so?”

It’s hard to suppress a shudder. “…my master was very…creative whenever the time for remedial punishment came to be.”

The clone snorts. “I’ll believe that. Sneaking onto a frozen world…”

But you aren’t nearly finished. “There’s something else that we need to discuss.”

Skipp immediately catches the trepidation in your voice. “What's wrong?"

You take a glance at the rest of the troops. As far the situation is concerned, the noise of repairs and other activities would have drowned out your conversation. But you can see Roppock, even as the rookie fumbles with the reassembly of his weapon, trying to strain in and eavesdrop on the conversation. Similarly, Oann and Cooper have taken a break, quaffing water as they sneak glances towards you and Skipp.

Staring him straight in the eyes, you whisper in a delicate, diplomatic sotto voice: “We didn’t have time back then or in the aftermath of the Exodus, but we need to talk about what happened on the Harvester’s back.”

(cont.)

“…ah.” His stance visibly changes, becoming more wary, guarded. “…thought you’d might want to clear that bit up, sir.”

“…yeah.”

“…because of the younglings?”

Because it only now came to mind after the sardonic, mean-spirited gatekeeper within a holocron raised a very valid point, commander…[/b]

>>Concerning matters of speaking, you will… [Choose one]
>Ask Skipp if you could speak to him in private. Better to respect the chain of command.
>Have all the clones stop what they’re doing and fall in line. Better to address them all.

>>And as to how you will open the discussion…[Choose one]
>Affirm your faith in Scrapper Squad, but raise the worrying possibility of a repeat incident.
>Insist that you aren’t going to do anything dramatic, but imply that the next time it happens…
>Custom option. [Write-in]

>>Please structure your votes like this:
>Matters of speaking.
>Opening discussion.

[VOTE OPEN FOR EIGHT HOURS]

>>4675296
>Matters of speaking.
>>Have all the clones stop what they’re doing and fall in line. Better to address them all.
>Opening discussion.
>>Affirm your faith in Scrapper Squad, but raise the worrying possibility of a repeat incident.

>>4675296
>>Have all the clones stop what they’re doing and fall in line. Better to address them all.

>Affirm your faith in Scrapper Squad, but raise the worrying possibility of a repeat incident.
>Warn them of the likely possibility of being interrogated by Larid or Kosa. Whether they trust our word or not, they would probably want.....closure, regarding their former comrades.

>>4675296
>Have all the clones stop what they’re doing and fall in line. Better to address them all.

>Affirm your faith in Scrapper Squad, but raise the worrying possibility of a repeat incident

>>4675296
>Have all the clones stop what they’re doing and fall in line. Better to address them all.

>Affirm your faith in Scrapper Squad, but raise the worrying possibility of a repeat incident

How many clones are in here anyways? Can we explain to them the origins of Orderyay ixtysixsay?

>>4675296
>Have all the clones stop what they’re doing and fall in line. Better to address them all.

>Affirm your faith in Scrapper Squad, but raise the worrying possibility of a repeat incident.

>>4675296
>>Ask Skipp if you could speak to him in private. Better to respect the chain of command.
>>Affirm your faith in Scrapper Squad, but raise the worrying possibility of a repeat incident.

>>4675296
>>Have all the clones stop what they’re doing and fall in line. Better to address them all.
>Affirm your faith in Scrapper Squad, but raise the worrying possibility of a repeat incident.

>>4675296
>Ask Skipp if you could speak to him in private. Better to respect the chain of command.
>Affirm your faith in Scrapper Squad, but raise the worrying possibility of a repeat incident.

>>4675296
>Have all the clones stop what they’re doing and fall in line. Better to address them all.
>Affirm your faith in Scrapper Squad, but raise the worrying possibility of a repeat incident.

>>4675296
>Ask Skipp if you could speak to him in private. Better to respect the chain of command.
We weren't their general, addressing Skipp should be enough.

>Affirm your faith in Scrapper Squad, but raise the worrying possibility of a repeat incident.

>>4675296
>Have all the clones stop what they’re doing and fall in line. Better to address them all.

>Affirm your faith in Scrapper Squad, but raise the worrying possibility of a repeat incident.

>Offer to buy them a drink

Speak in private, affirm faith yet concern, offer to buy them a drink

File: Field Medic Oann.png (474 KB, 500x728)

474 KB PNG

>>4675304
>>4675306
>>4675352
>>4675356
>>4675401
>>4675422
>>4675432
>>4675512
>>4675610
>>4675620
>>4675935
>>4676765

Glancing at the wayward clones, you discretely mutter, “Has Master Kosa…?”

Skipp shakes his head. “Not since Mercantor brought her aboard the Globus. Whenever she isn’t stewing in that jury-rigged bacta tank Evo and Trykov put together, the general’s been laid up in ordinary. Oann’s the only one with any real contact with her since he’s overseeing her recovery.”

That makes enough sense. “But in the brief moment when you saw her, you didn’t speak about anything?”

The corner of his mouth tweaks upward in an amused grin. “We weren’t exactly in the best time to speak when the shuttle reached the Globus. But Scrapper Squad and General Kosa had a brief moment to go ‘oh, thank the Force you survived’. No more than a minute of relief and gushy emotions before we had to prep for the jump to hyperspace.”

It’s hard not to cringe as you think about Kosa. Not that you’d done anything wrong, per se. Although, perhaps it seems like a faux pas to visit Arotta, and not her master.

“She’s doing alright?”

The clone shrugs, eyes flicking up towards the ceiling of the hangar. “So far as I can tell. Oann is always grumbling that she’s trying to speed-run her treatment.”

“Because if she overeats,” the medic calls, shouting from his position with Cooper, “She’ll develop fluid and electrolyte imbalance, hypophosphatemia, along with an entire basketcase worth of health complications. All at once!”

You blink, surprised at the vehemence in the clone’s voice. “It was that bad…?”

Oann grimaces, spitting venomously, “You saw what that plant bastard did to her. The general was little more than skin and bones, and drained of nearly half of her blood. It was nothing short of a miracle that the medical wards were well-stocked, even if we didn’t have surplus twilek blood on standby.”

“Nothing but human or nemodian,” clarifies Skipp, “But a borderline smorgasbord of supplies. Nowhere near Republic or cloner standards, of course, but still very well-kept.”

“Not like the organic crew of this bloody ghost vessel was going to use it.”

Of that, you have no doubt. The crew of the Globus that weren’t droids or the Mercantors had fallen sway underneath Jombaral, either fleeing into the forest or “decimated” at Octavia’s hand.

But you shake your head, clearing your throat before you address Skipp. “Can you gather your men? I don’t want to have you deliver it after the fact when we’re all here now.”

The commander nods. “Of course.”

Skipp whistles sharply. At once, all of the clones stop what they’re doing, and immediately move to fall in line. Cooper, understandably, needs more time and aid, leaning against Oann’s side to stand at attention. Uneasy at forcing him to stand, you gesture for the ordinance specialist to sit.

(cont.)

I forgot just how bad Kosa's condition was.

>>4677153
It was practically a blessing that we didn't waste any time going planetside.

File: Blaze Trooper Armor.jpg (29 KB, 333x536)

29 KB JPG

>>4677060
“With respect, sir,” he grunts, hissing as the prosthetic strapped to the stump of his knee shifts awkwardly, “…this is just some extra training. And I won’t have my brothers standing on ceremony while I sit myself down.”

Oann nods briefly when you give him a questioning look. Very well, if he’s that certain, and the medic’s okay with it, then who are you to question him?

With that out of the way, you’re ready to begin. You breathe, in and out, and intone, “There aren’t any words that I can use to thank you for what you’ve done. Getting to this point here and now wouldn’t have been possible with your help. The Battle of Nest’s End, the evacuation and exodus off Kakarit…”

Pausing to scratch the back of your neck in sheepish embarrassment, you continue, “Much like Master Kosa, I’m not much for flowery speeches. Words, but not long-winded tirades that you’d hear in the senate.”

That rouses a series of humorless chuckles from the assembled clones. Even the rookie, the freshest one out of the cloners’ tanks, smiles slightly. A verifiable win in your book, if Roppock was able to dislodge the stick up his ass, if only slightly.

Recalling that it is best to preface stern omens with humor, you slowly shift the tone of your voice. “That being said, there’s a matter of future proofing that needs to be discussed. The snafu that was the Exodus didn’t give us much time to talk, but we need to discuss what happened towards the end of the Battle of Nest’s End.”

There isn’t a single man among them that otherwise doesn’t tense or grimace visibly. Even their commanding officer shifts uncomfortably from one sole to another.

“…there isn’t any way for me to say this,” you state neutrally, glancing to where Skipp stands adjacent to you, “But I hope you’ll believe me when I say that I have nothing short of the highest regard for your abilities, and faith in the integrity of your character. That being said, it would be…remiss of me to otherwise presume that such a thing won’t happen in the future.”

No one speaks at first. Maybe its their training or discipline, but they continue to look straight ahead, even if the tension is thick enough to cut a knife. Tension that is somewhat mollified by the fact that you aren’t immediately throwing them to the curb or otherwise pointing fingers.

Roppock is the first to break the silence, coughing, “It won’t happen again, sir.”

“Yeah, what he said,” rumbles Stye, tilting his head to pop the joints in his neck.

Oann shakes his head, grousing, “I fear that it won’t be that easy to assure him.”

“Even if it was, we still needed to discuss it at one point or another,” Skipp dryly notes.

(cont.)

Cooper, Evo and Trykov are noticeably quiet. While they share concerns about being mind controlled, they hadn’t been with you atop the Harvester. Cooper was being medivac’d, Evo was in the calvary with Prince Troxl’s host, and Trykov had been manning a turret in the Albatross. The four that spoke up were the ones with you, and the only clones affected by the Herald’s domination.

But all of them look equally downcast. The fact that Skipp had promised you that he’d ignore the order if he’d ever gotten it again. Of course, that was only when said order was being delivered via holocomm with then-Supreme Chancellor Palpatine. Not by some Force abomination that violated their minds.

This, you make perfectly clear. “I get that the circumstances were…unusual, to say the least. That much, we all can agree on. I’m not blaming anybody. I just wanted to point out that there’s the chance of possibility, and discuss…preventive measures.”

“Define, ‘preventive measures’, sir,” queries Roppock, even as the rest of Scrapper Squad tense nervously.

Honestly? You have no idea where to begin to base your measures off of. Even if you knew the pop culture definition of cloning, whatever the Kaminoans did is an entirely different ball game. And these aren’t matters of simply cloning an extinct species back to life, or cloning organs to be prepared for donation.

War had been the sole purpose of the Clone Army. War was their reason for existence. And to that effect, their combat record across three years of war spoke plenty for their abilities. What it also speaks for, however, is the alleged “superiority” of their donor, Jango Fett…as well as the methodology in how the Kaminoans raised and trained them.

Oann pinches the bridge of his nose as you ask. “Clones aren’t bred to be loyal to the Jedi, sir. Our loyalty’s to the Republic. The cloners made sure to indoctrinate that into us, even as fetuses.”

And to the Supreme Chancellor, the hidden Sith mastermind behind the downfall of the Jedi, something within you murmurs. But you quash that line of thought before it goes to a dark place.

What Skipp said makes enough sense. That might explain Torok and Aure’s stories – clones that they’d fought and bled with over several campaigns showed no hesitation in turning on their Jedi commanders. By that logic, the next question to come up is the matter of compulsion.

“…good soldiers follow orders,” Trykov replies hesitantly. “That’s what we were taught, day in and day out. Obey your superiors, whether it was the cloners, a brother of superior rank, a Jedi commander, or the representatives of the Republic.”

Skipp coughs, drawing everyone’s attention. “As is the case for many among the rank and file. But there were some batches that didn’t get that much indoctrination. Beyond test and control groups, the cloners bred some early batches to be more independent.”

(cont.)

Its way sadder if there is no chip, gives more agency to the clones and their betrayal

File: Alpha-class ARC Troopers.jpg (4.8 MB, 1791x3056)

4.8 MB JPG

>>4677188
Now that comes as a surprise. Both Jedi and Scrapper Squad are visibly surprised at the ARC-Trooper’s words.

“Sir?” no less than three of the clones question, some with genuine confusion, some with apprehensive caution.

>>For putting your faith in the Clones, Skipp has decided to put his trust in you.
>>You have gained influence with Skipp & Scrapper Squad.

The commander shakes his head, a tired smile pulling at the corners of his mouth. “The Jedi’s put his faith in us. Honor demands that we reciprocate in kind.”

Honor?

Skipp’s heels click as he turns about face, raising his arm in a formal salute towards you. “Sir. Alpha-34, callsign ‘Skipp’, reporting for duty.”

You go very, very still. “…Alpha? But when I spoke to…to Marks, he said you were just early batch?”

Even as a pained expression creases his features, he nods. “Yes, sir. I’m early batch, but I didn’t tell you how early I was back when we first met in Nest’s End. I promised I’d tell you more about it when we got off the planet, so…figure now’s as good a time as any.

“I’m Alpha Class,” he says, thumping his chest, “One of a hundred from the second batch of clones the Kaminoans created ten years prior to the start of the war. They not only bred us to be more independent, but had Jango Fett himself personally oversee our training.”

That’s…! Well, even with what little you know about the culture of the clones, that’s certainly impressive. Even if his mentor had met a comparatively ignoble end at the hands of Master Windu, Skipp seems to have not only risen to his mentor’s skills, but surpassed them with the events on Kakarit.

You pause, thinking on what the commander had said. Alpha class was the second batch of clones created, not the first in spite of its name. What did that leave the first batch of clones? Failures? Prototypes? Questions that you’d file away for another date and time.

But even as you try to process what you’ve heard, Scrapper Squad has mixed reactions, better than bad, and more cautious than malignant. Roppock looks like he’s met the closest thing to Mandalore, even as Evo and Trykov’s jaws visibly drop. Stye merely shakes his head, and Cooper’s expression is one of bemusement.

“Next time, sir, pull the rug from our brother’s feet when there’s a rug beneath them,” Oann drawls in a sardonic tone.

Skipp rolls his eyes at that, before turning back to you. “I’m not trying to flaunt my pedigree. It’s relevant to the discussion at hand.”

“How so?” you ask, perplexed.

“I’ve got some level of obedience indoctrination, I won’t deny that,” he admits, “I’ll follow orders like any good soldier, and we all got the same one hundred fifty Contingency Orders. But Fett taught us to think for ourselves, to question orders if the one issuing them was either incompetent or lacking enough strategy.”

(cont.)

>>4677446
>What did that leave the first batch of clones? Failures? Prototypes? Questions that you’d file away for another date and time.
Kaz, you Null-class tease.

File: The Herald of Jombaral.jpg (67 KB, 560x800)

67 KB JPG

>>4677446
You have a rough idea of where he’s going with this. "Even before I told you about the truth behind Order 66?”

He shakes his head. “I might just be speaking for myself, but I know General Kosa and Arotta. They aren’t paragons of sainthood or master tacticians, but they’re good people. And the last I’d ever suspect of participating in any sort of treason.”

In spite of the situation, you smile inwardly. You might not know Master Kosa, but you sure as hell know Arotta. And your erstwhile lover certainly fits the bill of what their commander had described.

“Order 66 doesn’t make any sense. All of the Jedi, even the younglings in their cribs, in on some sort of conspiracy theory against the republic? Mace Windu, maybe. But not most of the Jedi I’ve come across. Even the ones that cracked and went renegade were little more than lone wolves.”

Maybe there’s just a little bit of resentment towards Master Windu regarding the death of Skipp’s mentor. Not that you’re eager to chastise him. Master Larid had never gotten along with Windu. Your dislike is secondhand, mostly stemming from how distraught Skywalker had been when the Council turned their backs on his apprentice.

Skipp continues, “It didn’t make any sense when you spoke to me in Nest's End. And it sure as hell didn’t make any sense when the plant hut’uun tried to get me to kill you in the middle of a war that certainly had the Republic’s interests in mind, even if it had now been the Empire.”

“So why…?” you simply ask.

He hesitates, pursing his lips as he struggles to arrange his thoughts into coherent speech. The rest of the clones shift uneasily as their commander reaches for the right words. More so for the other three that had fallen sway underneath the Herald’s influence.

“…when it touched us,” he eventually begins, shivering in spite of the climate-controlled environment, “…I felt as if I’d just gotten out of the incubation tank for the very first time. Everything was blank. I didn’t know anything. I didn’t know where I was. I didn’t know who I was. I was helpless, vulnerable…and needed commands. All I knew was that good soldiers follow orders, the 66th Contingency had been activated, a Jedi was a handful of meters away, and the black-robbed bastard its voice was coming out of was the ultimate form of authority.”

The Herald preyed on their indoctrination. Manipulating people with the Force is the second-most iconic power to a Jedi, just right behind pulling and pushing objects.

His tone is uncharacteristically desperate, and his eyes a hopeless plea as he tries to convince you of his perspective. “…I’ve fought against Dark Jedi. They reached into your mind to twist your thoughts, sifting through them to make you doubt what you perceive. Those kinds of people, you could resist their mind games.”

“But not with the Herald,” you finish grimly.

(cont.)

>>4677503
“No, sir,” he confirms, shivering. “Not with that…that thing. I don’t know how you were able to fight against it. It took away everything from me: my memories, my personality, my independence, my training...it stripped me to nothing beyond the orders the cloners installed within me.”

He’s telling the truth. That much you can see. Morbidly, you certainly saw that for yourself. When the Order had been given, everyone’s shots had been far less accurate, less precise, more desperate to hit and undisciplined in coordination.

“And for the rest of your brothers,” you eventually reply, glancing warily towards the rest of Scrapper Squad. They immediately go ramrod straight at your attention. “…they don’t have the same independence as you.”

“It made the Herald’s job easier,” Skipp hurriedly answers. “But they aren’t at fault. It’s how they were born and bred! If you want someone to blame beyond that abomination, then look no further than the cloners. They made it so easy for the False Mother to corrupt Major Marks and damn near almost all of the men underneath my command.”

He has a point, even if you suspect that he’s using the death of the Acting-Commander. But it is the truth. Only a heartless bastard could walk away from Kakarit and think that the clones were anything but victims. Even if that same sympathy doesn’t extend towards the other clones that might’ve had an easier time throwing away their relationships with their Jedi.

What a mess. And one that doesn’t have an easy, immediate solution.

“So…” Cooper pipes up hesitantly, glancing nervously around the room, “…sir, what is it that we’re supposed to do now? How do we prevent from what that monster did to our brothers…?”

"You'd have better luck asking the cloners to go and de-program us," rumbles Stye.

"We wouldn't get within a handful of parsecs of Kamino before they shoot us out of the sky," Evo complains.

Skipp frowns as discipline breaks, and Scrapper Squad voices their own thoughts in an disorder cacophony. Clicking his boots together, he shouts, "At attention!"

They all go quiet and turn to you.

"The Jedi needs to make a decision."

"I'm not your general," you point out.

"General Kosa's still recovering, and you're the senior-most officer here," counters Oann.

"That's gonna change when Master Larid arrives."

"He didn't command us at Nest's End," Skipp replies stiffly, "You took over General Kosa and Commander Bashur when they were both...indisposed. And nothing's changed, even if they're alive; they aren't fit to give orders. Like it or not, you're the Acting-Commander of Scrapper Squad, sir."

>>How will you respond?
>Insist that the Herald was an extremely unique case, and that nothing’s changed anything. [Maintain]
>Keep the Clones at arm’s length while maintaining good relations until a cure is found. [Distance]
>Custom option. [Write-in]

[VOTE OPEN FOR FOUR HOURS]

>>4677531
>Insist that the Herald was an extremely unique case, and that nothing’s changed anything. [Maintain]

>>4677531
>>Insist that the Herald was an extremely unique case, and that nothing’s changed anything. [Maintain]
>>Custom option. [Write-in]
We should try and reinforce the Clones' independence and ability to resist mind control. maybe Skipp can teach the others some of the stuff Jango taught him on how to do it.

>>4677531
>Insist that the Herald was an extremely unique case, and that nothing’s changed anything. [Maintain]
Maybe look at reinforcing the training they received from Jango and see if Mando training might help them with counteracting their indoctrination.

>>4677531
>Insist that the Herald was an extremely unique case, and that nothing’s changed anything. [Maintain]
Do however come up with some protocols for if we suspect we're coming up against a mind manipulating enemy. I trust the clones when they're themselves but as the past shows there's a rather disturbing weakness in them

>>4677531
>>Insist that the Herald was an extremely unique case, and that nothing’s changed anything. [Maintain]
Making some protocols and increasing their independence sounds like a good plan

>>4677531
>>Keep the Clones at arm’s length while maintaining good relations until a cure is found. [Distance]
if we are really unlucky they will kill all our younglings. i like the clones, but it is not worth it to keep them in the loop at the moment. maybe if one of the senior jedis have maxed out some mind powers. until then they are on snooze for me.

>>4677531
>>Insist that the Herald was an extremely unique case, and that nothing’s changed anything. [Maintain]

>>4677531
>Insist that the Herald was an extremely unique case, and that nothing’s changed anything. [Maintain]

Long as no one mentions the You Know What number we're fine

>>4677531
>>Insist that the Herald was an extremely unique case, and that nothing’s changed anything. [Maintain]
Seconding the reinforcing independence and Skipp passing on his training. Let them make armor and weapon modifications and use gear that the GAR would've frowned upon. No rules now, they have free reign to do whatever they think'll give them the edge fighting the Empire.

>>4677531
>>Insist that the Herald was an extremely unique case, and that nothing’s changed anything. [Maintain]

>write in

Offer to buy them all drink

>>4677531
>>Keep the Clones at arm’s length while maintaining good relations until a cure is found. [Distance]
I really like scrapper squad, but keeping them close can go so wrong and i frankly dont see the benefit of keeping them as close, except for enjoying their company more i guess

Seconding maintaining, having Skipp pass on training, customizing gear, and buying a drink.

Also, let's try training them to resist our mental influence in the Force.

>>4677531
Kinda feels like we've got 2 routes: Being more thorough in creating distinct personalities for each clone, or having Skipp act as a more direct superior and moral lifeline as a sort of death pact.
>Unless any of the orders affects the Mylar Alliance, nothing should change about their stay around here. [Maintain]
>But thinking about what they're going to do with their lives is a lot more urgent now. Do they even still want to fight as soldiers?

>>4677578
Support the personalization idea, the less they feel like a cog and the more they feel like an individual the better.

>>4677534
>>4677535
>>4677546
>>4677554
>>4677567
>>4677568
>>4677569
>>4677572
>>4677578
>>4677579
>>4677749
>>4677813
>>4677925

“The Herald was an extremely unique case,” you insist, “And while we aren’t in the Empire anymore, let alone mapped space, I don’t see any reason for anything to change.”

Skipp hides his relief better than his squad. They all visibly sag, sporting grins and smiles as you affirm your faith in them. True enough, the Herald was an anomaly, but there is still a non-zero chance that the clones might just be susceptible to mind control, given a powerful Force user among any future enemy. But that isn’t about to make you cast them to the wayside like defective battle droids.

You’re better than that, dammit. Even if some might accuse you of being sentimental.

Clearing your throat, you turn to Skipp and say, “We can take some time to figure out some protocols, maybe figure out how to increase their independence?”

He mulls on that, rubbing the bottom of his chin. “…doable, but it won’t be an overnight thing.”

“Of course not. Just merely suggesting or otherwise offering advice.” You pause, considering something that he’d said before you query, “Could you teach them what Jango Fett taught you?”

Skipp comes to a halt. He looks at you, then back to his men, and takes even longer to mull over that. It takes a few moments, but he eventually answers, “I’m not Jango Fett.”

“Of course.”

“…I’ll see what I can do.”

Nodding, you prepare to dismiss the clones to go about their business, but a sudden thought occurs. This time, you address all of them, and ask, “Do you still want to be soldiers?”

They blink, surprised as if you’d asked such a simple question. Then, they frown because they legitimately hadn’t thought about the possibility of “retiring”.

You shake your head, holding your hand up. “Sorry if I just sprung it out of the blue. Just an option I think you all deserve to at least consider.”

Scrapper Squad shares a collective glance, exchanging looks and hand signs in silent communication. Then as one, they turn back to attention, and Skipp answers for them: “We’ll take it under advisory, sir. But for the time being, even if the Republic’s gone, we’ll still fight for its ideals. These Tof we’ve been briefed on seem exactly the kind of scum we’d have no compunction fighting against.”

Their enthusiasm is certainly infectious, even as Cooper cracks a remark about having to be “wheeled into battle”. They’d certainly be an asset to the Mylar Star Alliance. Willing to serve as well of their own volition. But it wouldn’t be wise to send them in just yet. For one, you’d have to let Keimann know about the “reinforcements” you’d be sending his way. And the other…

“CLONES?! You compound your crimes by collaborating with traitors! You damn yourself and your family with your testimony, woman!”

(cont.)

File: Jedi Sojourner - 'Boss Bantha'.png (2.58 MB, 1870x1160)

2.58 MB PNG

…Master Aure and Torok might still have some (justified) reservations.

Exhaling, you nod towards Skipp, and he dismisses his troops. As Scrapper Squad returns to their own business, you pull the commander aside to a nearby sitting area. Which isn’t much beyond crates repurposed as chairs and a table, but still better than just standing.

“My master won’t be back for a few hours,” you explain as you take a seat. “Maybe we could spend some time going over how we’ll proceed?”

Skipp smiles. “I don't mind.”

Nodding in affirmation, you reach for your communicator, adding, “I hope you don’t mind my summoning some refreshments. It’s been a heavy discussion, and I don’t think you’ve all gotten proper shore leave.”

“No, we haven’t,” he confirms wryly, motioning for you to continue. “By all means, fresh supplies are always welcome.”

“These aren’t supplies,” you say, only slightly feigning your exasperation. “Commander, they’re a reward intended to boost morale.”

Skipp nods, and the utter seriousness in his voice does absolutely nothing to prepare you for the contrast in his answer. “I don’t suppose dancing girls are part and parcel with the effort to boost morale?”

If you’d been sipping on a drink, you might’ve choked or spat it out. You stare at the commander, absolutely agog as he maintains his disaffected demeanor. And just as quickly, he suggests, “The first thing that Jango Fett taught us was the value of independence, but not to the point of being an obstinate lone wolf. Which was a bit of an inside joke, considering his track record…”

>>The two of you share ideas, and discuss possible ways to increase the independence of Scrapper Squad.
>>You have gained influence with Skipp & Scrapper Squad.

>>The Clones of Scrapper Squad:
>Commander Skipp, an Alpha-class ARC Trooper personally trained by Jango Fett.
>Oann, a seasoned, no-nonsense field medic just as likely to hurt someone if they don’t follow his orders.
>Cooper, an ordinance specialist with a “hearts and minds” mentality. Lost his right arm and leg in the Battle of Nest’s End.
>Stye, a blaze trooper with somewhat of a flat affect personality, but cuts absolutely loose during shore leave.
>Evo, an AT-RT scout trooper. Pulls more than his weight in his endeavors, even if he gripes and moans.
>Trykov, a logistics officer with a mind for mechanics. Borderline neurotic with logistics and organization.
>Roppock, an infantry trooper fresh out of the tanks, and a stick up his ass that Kakarit’s only slightly dislodged.

>>Later…

As the Bantha makes its final checks for landing, you notice more than a handful of blast marks that score the underside of the hell. Not quite nearly enough to penetrate through the armor, but bad enough to necessitate replacing some of the warped paneling. The Jedi Sojourner’s gonna be out of commission for at least a handful of days to get everything fixed.

(cont.)

File: Larid_01.jpg (675 KB, 2894x4093)

675 KB JPG

A sudden chill runs up and down the length of your spine as the ramp hits the dust of the private dock. Out steps Master Larid, looking as if he’d aged a full decade in the few days he’d been gone. His black robes, the iconic dress of a Jedi Shadow, are an immaculate contrast to the rest of his disheveled appearance.

“Master,” you politely acknowledge.

He grunts, stepping heavily onto the ground. “Farren.”

The two of you maintain a comfortable, familiar silence. Then, he breaks it, dragging his hand down the expanse of his face. “…those children are going to be the death of me.”

“…I hope you didn’t scare them too much,” you say.

"Hah…” He shakes his head. “How awful of you, to not worry about your master’s wellbeing, but instead focus on the brat pack that caused grave peril to his wellbeing in the first place.”

More people descend from the ramp. Sha Koon isn’t hard to miss, both on account of her species’ iconic oxygen breathers and goggles. Right behind her are the twelve younglings in question, huddled together and hesitant to step off the ship. Some of them wave to you, the younger ones who don’t know any better.

But a handful of the older ones aren’t able to meet your eyes, either too mortified or embarrassed at having been dragged back to Serano Spaceport like recalcitrant children. The more outspoken and brash, you privately observe, seem to be the most downcast or otherwise pensive.

You’re torn between comeuppance in them getting a slice of humble pie, and sympathy for whatever they saw on the Chiller. Suzel’s reports from his mother had been getting increasingly bloody as the M.S.D.F. gained more ground against the Tof Remnant. It would only be a matter of weeks, maybe even days before they reached the main settlement, and General Durgash the Jolly. That was when the worst of the fighting would start.

“…sonic showers,” orders Larid with perhaps the most severe tone you’d ever heard him muster. “Now.”

They don’t argue. Koon herds them towards the prefab shelters, bidding you and your master a shallow nod. As you watch them disappear, you fall beside your master. “…I could’ve sworn that you had at least two more people with you.”

He exhales through his nostrils, breathing heavily as he answers, “Noirah took a bad hit, but it’s nothing she won’t recover from. Slug through her shoulder, damn near shattered her collarbone on its way out.”

You wince at the image that conjures up. “Ouch.”

“You should see the other guy. Although you’re gonna need an excavator to get him out from under the tunnel I brought down on his head.” Larid takes a moment to reach for the pipe in his robes, igniting the tobacco and taking a long, deep drag. “Riven, the new hire, is keeping an eye on her. Figured that she’d need a friendly face to wake up to that wasn’t Doc.”

(cont.)

File: Riven the Mechanic (A few(...).png (514 KB, 850x982)

514 KB PNG

Ain’t that the truth. The medical droid had always been skilled in many things, but its bedside manner had much to be desired. Although considering the rumors about droids imprinting on their owners after years of service…perhaps its more indicative of your master’s behavior rather than some faulty programming.

“…come to think of it,” you suddenly interject, “I don’t think you ever told me how you managed to find Noirah, or take Riven on as your new engineer before you ran off to the Chiller.”

Larid’s eyes glitter with amusement. “Long story short? Tracked her to a run-down slum, scared the hell out of her, and convinced her that I was the bonafide real deal. And that unlike that bastard of a former friend, I wasn’t about to leave her by herself on Coruscant with only five thousand fucking credits to her name.

“As for the kid…” He rubs the length of his jaw as his lips curl into a smirk. “It took some convincing to let the gang that owned him to let him go. Wasn’t easy, but we all walked away satisfied with the deal we struck.”

“And that deal was…?” you inquire.

“Paid off his contract. When they realized that I was rich, they tried to extort more out of me, even had the idiocy to pull blasters and try to frisk me.” He shakes his head, almost pityingly as he blows out another stream of smoke. “The folly of youth is truly something else…at least they very much lived to their motto of ‘dying fast and young.’”

…ignoring the glibness at his casual mention of killing, you pinch the bridge of your nose as you feel a migraine coming. “I thought you said everyone walked away satisfied with what happened?”

“Everyone who was capable of walking had walked away satisfied,” he amends. “I got my money back, and the boy got his freedom…I didn’t break a sweat, let alone have to take out my lightsaber. No survivors, and most importantly, no witnesses. The gang next door is about to have a field day with their main competition out of the picture.”

Sounds about right. “And Riven’s disposition of the Jedi…?”

“A mixture of apathy and gratitude. He’s out here in the ass-end of the galaxy, having the life of adventure he always wanted. And the freedom as well, can’t forget about that. Had to dye his hair to get him off-world, but he isn't complaining.

“But the Coruscant underworld aside,” he concludes, dumping the ashes of his tobacco out of his pipe, “There’s been a few developments with the younglings. The Force was merciful enough to keep them alive, but the brats that were eligible got a brief taste of combat.”

You still, turning to look up at Larid with visible concern. “They’re not hurt, are they?”

“No. But I figure it’d be good for you to speak with them. Whatever preconceptions or decisions you might’ve taken, it’s best to listen to the brats share their stories with what happened on the Chiller.”

(cont.)

File: Younglings_03.jpg (401 KB, 1600x1320)

401 KB JPG

From the way he words it, it honestly sounds as if something traumatizing had happened! But there hadn’t been anything you could feel that indicated something so…dramatic.

“Is this some kind of test, master?” you ask. “Are you trying to push a certain youngling to be my padawan?”

Larid barks a sardonic laugh. “Force, no! It’s your choice. Back in the day, you’d might’ve been eligible to simply not take a padawan, but I don’t think I need to explain why we don’t have that luxury anymore.”

He doesn’t. “So how’s this going to work?”

“You go wait in the Albatross. I’ll let you know when the brats are done, and I’ll send them to you.”

Even as you nod, you raise a curious eyebrow. “…what about you? Aren’t you going to pick a new padawan?”

“Only when you’re finished,” he replies. “As is the tradition. Why, do you still want to be mine?”

>>The Seven Youngling Padawan Candidates:
>Luaine Nataini, Human female. (14)
-- Hot-tempered and competitive, fiercely protective of her friends. Secretively insecure and constantly second-guessing herself, her worst nightmare was being sent to the Service Corps prior to Order 66.

>Joz Kalgar, Mon Calamri male (13).
-- Cautious and methodical, slow to anger and quick to befriend. A calming presence for the group and model student, albeit somewhat alienated by peers due to this maturity.

>Parn Telate, Human male. (13).
-- Proactive and full of vigor, a young boy full of drive and energy. Inconsiderate at times, and somewhat reckless when it comes to personal safety, but ultimately means well with a big heart.

>Ceyla Vikol, Miraluka female (13).
-- Quiet and withdrawn, soft-spoken and keenly in-tune with the Force. Dislikes being treated with pity because of her "blindness", and takes every opportunity to prove herself otherwise.

>Ritho Gad, Nautolan female (13).
-- Fretful and moody, still recovering from the abrupt life change and fearful of the unknown future. A reluctant heroine with hidden courage and talent for organization.

>Vuqu Dahae, Mirialan female (12).
-- Inquisitive and blunt, sporting an unexpected talent for droids and machinery. Not exactly the most socially aware and prone to accidentally offending, but offers unique insights with a utilitarian worldview.

>Nujem Clavis, Kalleran male (11).
-- Optimistic and eager, quick to please and thrives on conflict. A diabolical(?) mastermind with a talent for mischief, approaching the crisis no differently than one might a puzzle.

(cont.)

File: Younglings_01.png (832 KB, 1280x913)

832 KB PNG

>>Other Younglings
>Ceana, Selphi female (8).
-- Enigmatic and introspective, but is not so cold as to be a friendless entity. Inspired by the late Master Fay, she envisions herself using only the Force and her bare hands over lightsabers.

>Fusan Al-Jhenat, Arconan male (7).
-- Innocent and full of wonder, he considers the trials ahead to be the great adventure of his lifetime. The only sadness he feels is missing the warmth of the Jedi Temple and its inhabitants.

>Zabrys Tel, Togruta male (6)
-- Shy and somewhat hesitant to speak, though not for a lack of vocabulary; he doesn't believe in wasting words when nods or hand signals might convey things faster and more efficiently.

>Prisma Edelhav, Human female (6).
-- A lover of history and aspirant peacekeeper, she aspires to be like the heroic Jedi she reads about, particularly of one she learned from an unknown source: Revan.

>Ruksali, Twi'lek male (5).
-- An empathic soul who sees the good in all things, desiring to become a healer after being inspired by the Jedi who saved his life.

>>Please select a set of younglings to interview first:
>Joz Kalgar and Nujem Clavis. [How they crash-landed on the Chiller and survived a kill-team sent to the crash site.]
>Parn Telate and Vuqu Dahe. [How they managed to keep the other Younglings in line and defend their hijacked shuttle.]
>Luaine Natani, Ceyla Vikol and Vuqu Dahe. [How they managed to infiltrate a Tof outpost and fight their way to a comms array.]

[VOTE OPEN FOR EIGHT HOURS]

>>4678482
>Joz Kalgar and Nujem Clavis. [How they crash-landed on the Chiller and survived a kill-team sent to the crash site.]
Let's start with the ones who kicked off this whole kerfuffle in the first place.

>>4678482
>>Joz Kalgar and Nujem Clavis. [How they crash-landed on the Chiller and survived a kill-team sent to the crash site.]

>>4678482
>>Joz Kalgar and Nujem Clavis. [How they crash-landed on the Chiller and survived a kill-team sent to the crash site.]
Let's get to workin' our way down.

>>4678486
So, are these interviews going to be like the Youngling intermissions in the previous thread, or is it just them telling us what happened?

>>4678501
There’s gonna be interview segments that take place in the present spliced in between “interlude” bits that take place in the past. Closest comparison I can think off the top of my head is the opening of “Batman Begins” where the film cuts between Bruce’s training with the League of Shadows, and the events of his life that led up to that moment. Not nearly as drastic and long-stretched in years, mind you, but just the closest comparison I can think of that interweaves past and present. Or like “Man of Steel” where it does the same thing of intercutting the present with Clark’s childhood...huh.

Thank you Zack Snyder, very cool.

But, I digress. Figure that way there’s gonna be some level of interactivity where you can write in questions to ask the younglings at your discretion. Altering between tenses and perspective is gonna be a pain, but I figure it’ll get the interview process faster than just writing a traditional intermission. And if not, I can at least test this method at the very least.

>>4678482
>Luaine Natani, Ceyla Vikol and Vuqu Dahe. [How they managed to infiltrate a Tof outpost and fight their way to a comms array.]

>>4678482
>>Parn Telate and Vuqu Dahe. [How they managed to keep the other Younglings in line and defend their hijacked shuttle.]

>>4678482
I'm gonna be that asshole that's already chosen who we take.
>Joz Kalgar and Ceyla Vikol
Yeah that's right. We're fucking taking TWO padawans. Reasoning is we do not have time to fuck around like before where a master can slowly shape and mold a padawan. We will still do that but it's gonna happen faster than it did. AND there are not enough higher rank jedi to teach them on a one to one basis. If we take these two, the mature and cautious Joz and the quiet and in tune Miraluka as padawans, that would leave the others who really need a far more seasoned teacher for the actual masters.

TL;DR
We take the two most stable and oldest padawans Joz and Ceyla and train them.

Fuck if this has a chance of happening we will need baller dice rolls and one hell of a write in.

>>4678482
>Joz Kalgar and Nujem Clavis. [How they crash-landed on the Chiller and survived a kill-team sent to the crash site.]


>>4678690
I dont think it is wise AT ALL for us to take the most stable padawans, because we are the most stable knight. Arotta and tigerfriend whos name i forgot are not as mentally stable right now, whether because of ptsd or dark side shenanigans. They need a stable padawan.
Its easy to forget that often a teacher learns from their students, even if it is in a different way.

>>4678482
>Parn Telate and Vuqu Dahe. [How they managed to keep the other Younglings in line and defend their hijacked shuttle.]
Literally the only responsible ones, I don't know why anyone would choose the guys who thought up the incredibly irresponsible plan with no exit strategy

>>4678709
Actually, shit you know what, having read it, I'm gonna change my vote from >>4678719 to >>4678709

If we're going to take a padawan we need to hone the crazy ones into crazy ones with backup backup plans.

Anyone else think we need to practice our Niman? We've been reliant on Makashi pretty much this whole time which is gonna put us at a severe disadvantage against Form V/Strong style users and non-melee enemies. A fight with Vader or Vader-trained combatants, should such an undesirable thing occur, will end with our severe injury or death as Vader is not only a Djem So master, but the man who killed the man who's style of Makashi we appropriated. I think we need another trick and Niman, with its emphasis on adaptability and two-weapon fighting, can very well be that trick. Jedi like Exar Kun, who never lost a duel and Kao Cen Darach, who was once Battlemaster, and Sith like Maul were masters of Form VI and incredibly lethal. It's also a stepping stone to Jar Kai, should we want to learn that as well.

>>4678974
Bruh we need to practice fucking PERIOD. We've been stuck in space nam for the better part of 2 threads with no saber-wielding or blaster-firing enemies to speak of, we are out of friggin practice.

>>4678975
We dueled two people on Kakarit, did we not? The Herald and the Accuser, if memory serves. As for blasters, maybe we should have gone to the Chiller to get back into the swing of things.

>>4678482
>Luaine Natani, Ceyla Vikol and Vuqu Dahe. [How they managed to infiltrate a Tof outpost and fight their way to a comms array.]

>>4678482
Kaz, did you mean to put Vuqu up twice and Ritho not at all? It seems to me like Ritho should be talked to with Parn.

File: embarassed.jpg (119 KB, 1280x720)

119 KB JPG

>>4679282
Ack, that's my bad. I meant to put Ritho with Parn. That's what it's supposed to be.

File: Nujem Clavis.png (278 KB, 500x608)

278 KB PNG

>>4678486
>>4678491
>>4678494
>>4678709

“Hey, Farren…I, erm…I hope you still aren’t too sore about the bucket of water back on Nazira?”

“…are we supposed to call you ‘Master Gaelle’ now? Or ‘Master Farren’, now that you’re a Jedi Knight?”

The first to enter the Albatross are Nujem and Joz. The pair shrink away at the flat glare, the one full of disappointment that they were the catalyst for the entire mess. But you can’t stay angry at them for long, much as you’d like to. You’re here to interview them, not scold them.

Besides, from the way they had acted once they got off the ship, Master Larid must have already taken care of it. Back on Nariza, in the Jedi Outpost you’d been assigned to prior to the war’s end, there was much in the way your master would let them get away with. Not so much now.

“…a swim in the Supreme Archon’s pool…” You shake your head as you look up from the report. The aquatic aliens shift uncomfortably as you set down the datapad. “Really?”

Nujem nods his head hesitantly, but Joz answers, “Admittedly, I’m to blame as well. While not a necessity for my kind, it is…uncomfortable to go without complete submersion for a time. I was weak and fell to temptation.”

“You do realize that you could’ve asked Master Aure.”

“We…” the Kalleran pipes up, “…we didn’t want to distract her from her duties on the Chiller…”

A bit late for that now, you think dryly to yourself. But you make no further issue of it. B-33 approaches the table, bearing a tray with glasses of water and a large pitcher. The younglings jump at the sight of the suptac, almost going for their lightsabers on instinct before you gesture for them to sit down.

“He’s a friend,” you say firmly, taking the offered glass. “Thanks, B-33. I’ll let you know if I need anything else.”

“This unit is pleased to serve,” the droid answers, shuffling out of the mess hall and towards the rear of the ship. There are some minor repairs that needed addressing, and you figure it wouldn’t hurt for it to get familiar with the Albatross’ subsystems.

“Drink up,” you tell the startled younglings. “There’s plenty of water on my ship.”

They do so, gulping the water almost too quickly for you keep track. By the time they’re ready to begin speaking, they’ve already gone through half of the pitcher’s contents.

“Start from the beginning,” you order them, firmly but not in a demanding tone. Settling against the back of your chair, motion for them to get comfortable. “I want a complete picture of what’s happened.”

They were coming down too quickly. That much was obvious, even to Nujem’s limited perspective. Even without immediate access to the window, the stench of burning fuel and the horrible, violent impacts that rattled their heads had given the younglings knowledge that something had gone terribly wrong.

(cont.)

>>4679440
>Crantz and Stern
Cute.

File: Joz Kalgar.jpg (51 KB, 500x660)

51 KB JPG

>>4679386
Suddenly, the intercom burst to life in a cacophony of sparks. From up the top of the cockpit, one of the pilots screamed, “Mayday, mayday! Anyone on this frequency, is M.S.D.F. cargo shuttle {Flying Pan}! We’ve been hit! Tof fighter’s gone and blown out our main reactor and our auxiliary is failing! Advise immediately!”

Nujem and Joz shared a simultaneous, panicked look as they realized that the situation had gone from bad to worse. What they had originally hoped to be a quick mission had quickly spiraled out of control.

The {Flying Pan} was a cargo hauler, ferrying supplies from Amagi to the Chiller. A beachhead of sorts had been established on the far side of the planet, and resources both in manpower and supplies to establish an FOB. Far beyond the range of the modified mining lasers, it should have been safe.

But then the Tof had sent what few starfighters they had, in an effort to disrupt the landing. No sooner had they entered orbit, the communications array had lit up like bonfire, screaming about incoming missiles and enemy contacts on the radar.

Most of the cargo shuttles had two fatal flaws: most were unarmored and unprotected beyond a hard seal and pressurized environment, and fresh pilots that weren’t trained in combat, or not nearly trained as long as they should have.

By some mercy of the Force, the two pilots of the {Flying Pan}, a pair of humans named Crantz and Stern, were at least skilled enough prior to their enslavement, and subsequent liberation. They fought tooth and nail to maintain control, shouting at each other, shouting for advice from the combat controller as bits and pieces of the ship broke away as they descended further through the atmosphere…

“…at that point, we realized that we couldn’t stay hidden any longer,” Joz explains, shivering in spite of the climate-controlled environment of the Albatross. “It wasn’t easy, with cargo being strewn everywhere, but we managed to reach the ladder going up to the cockpit.”

You nod. “It must’ve been an awful shock to the gentlemen to have a pair of Jedi as stowaways.”

Nujem smiles and laughs awkwardly. “Yeah, you…that sounds just about right.”

“WHERE IN THE HELL DID YOU TWO COME OUT FROM?!”

“So what happened next?”

“We broke atmo, and the ship was leaking fuel,” he recites. “Uh…we didn’t have enough to make it towards the FOB. The evasive maneuvers they pulled to not get shot took the Frying Pan off their flight path.”

Joz nods grimly. “The best they could settle for was an emergency landing, but then they realized that they’d lost their landing gear in the attack.”

Even as you wince, you debate the merits of trying to use landing gear on the slick, icy surfaces of the Chiller.

(cont.)

>>4679444
Need a name for the two stooges that wasn't Tagg or Bink. Working names I had during the rough drafts varied between Crantz and Stern, a riff on Abbott and Costello, or a reference to Benny Youngman and Milton Berle.

>>4679447
“Crantz!” Stern shouted. The bearded pilot struggled with something underneath his seat, eventually fishing out a backpack. A sudden jolt caused it to leap out of his hands, but Nujem caught it…and nearly buckled underneath its weight. “Grab the ‘shute, and get the kids out of here!”

“What about you, mister?!” yelled Nujem, looking and feeling even more green in the gills than normal. He swallowed the bile that had crawled up his throat, forcing it down as he helped Joz off the floor, and threw the backpack to Crantz. “Where’s your parachute!”

“I ain’t going anywhere,” he says through gritted teeth. His hands clutch the wheel in a white-knuckled grip. “The auto-pilot’s kriffed, and visibility’s shot to hell and back with the blizzard. The altimeter’s barely working, but the control wheel’s still working. I don’t want you jumping out the door and splattering yourself across a glacier, or landing in a bottomless ravine!”

“You didn’t answer the kid’s question,” Crantz snarled, even as he slung on the backpack and grabbed the Jedi younglings. “Where’s your parachute, Stern?”

The pilot rolled his eyes. “Underneath your chair. Once we find a safe spot to land, you bail with the kids. I’ll be after you.”

“We ended up ditching in the middle of no-man’s-land,” explains Joz, “Right between the Tof Remnand and the FOB, on a little ice shelf that looked thick enough to support our weight. It was the safest place we could reach with what fuel and working parts the Pan had left.”

“The parachute nearly split from how much weight it was bearing.” Nujem’s eyes lose focus, as if lost in thought from the perilous moment. “…but we made it down. Hit the ground hard enough to bruise, and sliced Crantz out of the pack before the blizzard snatched up the parachute.”

“What about Stern?” you query. “He was right behind you, wasn’t he?” The two younglings share a troubled look. Hurriedly, you add apologetically, “I’m sorry. I didn’t mean-”

Joz shakes his head. “No, no! He made it to the airlock. The problem was…”

“Stern was about to jump, but the kriffing Tof came around for another attack run,” spits out Nujem in perhaps the most venomous you’d ever heard the prankster. “Just out of spite. The shuttle exploded, and everything just came tumbling down…”

They later found him buried underneath a pile of scrap metal and twisted crates. The heat of the blast had seared half of his beard off, and left an ugly patch of red going up the side of his head. But he was still alive. A handful of kolto patches had sealed off the worst of the bleeding, but there was only so much he could do with his legs pinned beneath the debris.

“It’s not broken, but it hurts something awful!” the pilot hissed, spitting mad and more furious than fearful. “Get me out of here before I suffocate in the wreckage!”

(cont.)

Crantz glanced around the crash site, looking for anything that they could have used as leverage against the pile. But before he got too far, there was a horrific noise, a sharp CRACK that started beneath their feet, and bounced off the mountain walls of the Chiller. And it was a small shift, but Joz and Nujem both felt it beneath their feet…

“The shelf’s collapsing!” they both screamed.

Crantz turned to his trapped friend, incredulous. “Is this your idea of a safe place to ditch?!”

“Screw you!” Stern’s answer was accompanied by an incredibly rude gesture. “Worked with the best I had, didn’t I?”

“Next time, I’m in charge of the ditching, you four-eyed bat!”

“Why don’t you come down here and say that to my face, shit-for-brains?!”

Utter madness engulfed the survivors as the shelf continued to shatter all around them. The ice wasn’t about to completely give way. Only where the heaviest debris of both the shuttle and the cargo had fallen. Unfortunately, this included the patch where Stern was pinned beneath.

“Take the kids and get out of here!” he screamed.

There was a noise as Crantz wrenched a sheet of metal out of the ice, hurriedly moving towards his comrade’s side. “I’m not leaving you behind!”

He jammed it into the space, just a handful of inches away from the pilot’s legs. And to the Jedi Younglings, he motioned for them to come closer. “Greenie, you’re with me. Push down when I do. Brownie, you’re with Stern. I want you to help him get his legs out once we clear enough room!”

But it wasn’t enough. They strained and groaned, wheezed and panted as they tried to lift the debris off Stern in a desperate race against time. All the while, the shelf lost more and more stability as the cracks widened.

“FUCK!” Cratnz cursed, shaking his fist at the sky as he screamed and ranted. He didn’t seem to care about the danger that was rapidly closing to their position. All he did was rage and shout, even if the objects of his hate were unable to hear him. “Fucking...green-skinned sons of bitches!”

Joz and Nujem shared a worried look, before hardening their resolve. “There’s one more thing we can try…! Misters, when we give the signal, you push and pull!”

They broke away from the debris, taking up positions behind their respective pilots. And even as the world seemed to come down around them, and the cracks in the ice continued to widen, they closed their eyes, and whisper-chanted…

“There is no emotion, there is peace…”

>>Each youngling currently has a Force Rating of 1 without any affinity, granting them a simple 1d10 to checks made to use the Force.
>>Combining their strength, Joz and Nujem can temporarily throw 2d10 in extreme emergencies at the cost of strain and fatigue.

>>Roll 2d10 Force Pull/Push.
>Best out of three.

>>4679460
Typo, the man's name was Henny Youngman. Apologies to the late comedian.

Rolled 9, 4 = 13 (2d10)

>>4679508

Rolled 8, 9 = 17 (2d10)

>>4679508

Rolled 1, 2 = 3 (2d10)

>>4679508

>>4679515
Fuck