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

STAR WARS
INTERREGNUM
EPISODE III


>>RECAP of the last thread:

Farren Gaelle spoke to the holocron of Master Kreia, sharing with the ancient Jedi Master his worries and insecurities. She counseled for emotional stoicism, warning the reason for Anakin Skywalker’s fall didn’t matter as much as the result: the neigh-extermination of the Jedi and reorganization of the Republic into the Empire. Their cadre of survivors would have to be careful when fighting against agents of the Sith, or the Dark Lords themselves.

In addition, Farren took care of other things. He addressed the Clones about their mind control to the Herald of Jombaral, reassuring them that he wasn’t about to get rid of them. Playing a mediating party for Warrior-King Troxl and the M.S.D.F., land was appropriated for the Kakarit refugees. Even an ill-ventured attempt at investigating the Storyteller and Revenant ended with success, albeit at the attempt of a branding on his hand.

But perhaps the most significant thing to happen was Master Larid’s return from the Chiller, with all twelve of the younglings. At his request, Farren interviewed them, debriefing them of their misadventures on the subzero planet with the Tof. And on the following day, he had chosen his padawan learner: a miraluka girl by the name of Ceyla Vikol.

However, the emotional high was not quick to last. Master Larid held Farren at lightsaber point upon the revelation of the brand, revealing prior knowledge about the Storyteller. Cold fury turned into abject horror when Farren described the words screamed by the half-mad Revenant. At his request, Farren gave his master privacy as the ship’s computer carried out a DNA test between Larid and the Revenant.

Now, Farren searches for Nomiana Whrul, a Mandalorian woman he’d danced with the night prior to the Slaves’ Revolution…


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

Previous Thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/4669323/
Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Star%20Wars%20Interregnum
Character Pastebin (WIP): https://pastebin.com/u/TaskForceKaz
Twitter: https://twitter.com/TaskForceKaz

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

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

>>Skills:
>Astronavigation 1 (Intellect) – knowledge about the galactic 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, hidden dangers and people.
>Piloting [Space] 1 (Finesse) – the ability to pilot starships and other stellar vessels.
>Ranged [Light] 1 (Finesse) – a measure of skill in firearms such as blasters.
>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.

=======
>>
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===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
- Hardpoints (6/6):
-- 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
- Hardpoints (6/6):
-- 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.

=======
>>
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==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.
>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.

==Jedi Holocrons==

>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 and survivor of the Jedi Purge at the hands of Darth Nihilus.
>Holocron of the Redeemed – a Jedi Holocron containing the persona of Meku Sakaroto, a Jedi who followed Revan into battle against the Mandalorian Crusaders and fell to the Dark Side at Malachor V.
>Holocron of the Seeker – a Jedi Holocron containing the persona of Zayne Carrick, a former Jedi Padawan who survived the Padawan Massacre at the hands of the Jedi Covenant.

==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.
>O’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.

=======
>>
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===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: 300 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.

===============
>>
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Reflections of the Dark Disciple

>>Darth Vader’s Personal Quarters
>>Imperator-class Star Destroyer {Exactor}, in orbit above Otavon XII

“Ani…something wonderful has happened…”

Darth Vader seized violently into consciousness from out of a dead man’s nightmare. The harsh sound of his respirator and life support systems did the rest, accelerating his awakening beyond what adrenaline could accomplish. A name had been on the withered husk of his tongue, the name of a woman that the dead man had loved above all else in the galaxy.

A name he could not bear to say.

His fist tightened in an effort to find something vaguely approaching balance. The growing pains of his cybernetics were sharp enough to dispel the last dregs of exhaustion. Focusing on the noise that had brought him out of that incoherent nightmare, Vader discovered that someone was trying to call him. The dark lord gave himself just enough time to allow his breathing to even out before pressing the button on his chair.

“Lord Vader,” the image of Commander Appo said upon flickering into view. The clone had seen many battlefronts since the beginning of the war in service to the Republic. He would no doubt see many more in service to the Empire, but he looked apprehensive. “The Emperor is attempting to establish communications with the Exactor.”

Vader was genuinely surprised. He had not expected any contact from Darth Sidious for a far longer time. A week had only passed since the beginning of what his master had called “a reflection”. But the shock passed, replaced by irritation at the prospect of having to kneel, both out of difficulty from the cybernetics, and the sheer humility of debasing himself.

“Send the signal to my personal quarters. You will be provided with further instructions after contact.”

“Very good, sir.”

The room was plunged once more into darkness with the disappearance of the clone’s hologram. But it did not last for more than a handful of moments. By the time the static was filtered out of Emperor Palpatine’s hologram, his apprentice was already kneeling, prostrate before his master.

In the weeks that had followed his reconstruction, the Sith Lord had seethed and scowled at the imperfections of his cybernetics. They were ill-fitted and chaffed at his skin, or otherwise set his nerves on fire at the first wrong movement. Years of fighting would have to be relearned to accommodate the bulky, unwieldy shoulder-piece and larger hands. But in this moment, in the darkness of his private quarters, Vader welcomed the pain, now more than ever.

The agony, physical and emotional, brought him closer to the Dark Side. Channeled his hatred into the hunting the traitorous wretch who had left him to burn on a beach of blackened glass and a lake of fire. Kept him from whispering the name of who he had done everything for…

“What is thy bidding, my master?” Vader intoned lowly.

(cont.)
>>
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“I trust that you’ve had enough time to reflect upon your mistakes,” Palpatine said with a deliberate calmness. He made no gesture to relieve Vader of his stance, indicating the depths of his displeasure. “And that you’ve better focused yourself on entrenching the security of our Empire.”

It was hard not to cringe. A week prior, Vader and the 501st had arrived to Otavon XII, dispatched by the Emperor to defend an AT-AT production facility. The native Ovoni had not taken kindly to imperial occupation of their homeworld. An insurgency had sprung up, drawing the garrison into weeks of guerilla warfare.

Ordinarily, this petty uprising would not have been indistinguishable from the myriad resistances against the Empire. Like a majority of insurrections, it might have been eventually squashed with reinforcements trickling in from the Core as imperial territory was consolidated. But not all had the natural resources to justify establishing a permanent factory, as opposed to shipping materials back into the Core.

Vader’s orders had been to remain at the outpost to oversee the construction of the new walkers. It was his duty to menace the workers, drawn from both the native populace and political dissidents, into line and top efficiently. And when the situation called for it, to defend the base from the sporadic attacks launched against the factory.

But it hadn’t been that simple. Vader had sensed that there was at least one presence strong in the Force. Palpatine had warned him to drop his obsession with the Jedi, but it had been…difficult, to say the least. And when a survivor from a missing squad had limped back to camp, mumbling about Jedi among the guerillas, that was all the dark disciple needed to abandon the factory and venture forth into the forest.

As it had been, there were two: a padawan, and a master revealed upon the former’s death. The apprentice fell easily, but not before luring him into an ambush. The rebels had prepared a sonic device, launching it at the dark lord before promptly fleeing. Not necessarily from the Sith, but from the monster that the sub-sonic emanations of the device had summoned.

The sugati, an anthropoid-like monstrosity easily the size of an AT-ET, had nearly killed Vader. His lightsaber had no effect upon the creature’s chitinous hide. He was only a handful of inches away from the monster’s gullet before he reached out with the Force and subdued it with a mind trick. The sugati had become submissive, even docile and receptive to Vader’s commands. And it had been more than willing to play the role of mount, leading him to the mountain where the last of the Ovoni’s Jedi was preparing to make his escape.

(cont.)
>>
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The creature hurriedly left Vader and Jedi Master Hylon to their duel. Atop the mountain, and against the backdrop of a setting sun, their lightsabers had met. Green against red, the Ovoni Jedi had lasted far longer against Vader since his imprisonment in the suit. But the outcome was inevitable, perhaps since the dark disciple’s first step upon the planet, and the moment he had sensed his presence in the Force.

But Hylon had the last laugh. Just before he died, he had mentioned that in the Ovoni tongue, his name meant “trickster”, and that he had never intended to escape from Otavon XII. Vader had asked the question of why before killing him, but only received his answer upon his return to the factory. And among the rubble of the garrison and the corpses of the security forces, Vader had found another sonic device, but no sign of the sugati it had summoned.

The destruction of both the facility and the outpost had cost the imperial war machine months of labor and millions of credits. It would take months for both the base and the facility to be rebuilt, and several more before it could be brought back to full efficiency and security. Worst, it could have all been avoided had its most competent guard had not given himself into his obsession with chasing Jedi.

Palpatine had threatened to exile Vader at the beginning of the mission. But Vader only believed that statement when he saw his master planetside, flanked by two of his red guard. The look of utter disgust and disappointment was seared into his memory when the Emperor had all but marooned him and the 501st on Otavon XII, ordering him to "reflect" on his mistake.

Vader thought of all of this, and merely inclined his head. “Yes, my master.”

But he believed it no further than Palpatine did. The corner of his master’s mouth curled up in what might have been sardonic amusement. “To answer your earlier question, I have a new assignment for you. It involves Jedi, and those foolish to be sympathetic to their plight. You will take the 501st to Valkin, a world along the Inner Rim’s Trailing Sectors. An insurrection has cropped up that requires a swift and sharp remedy to fix.”

Vader blinked, utterly surprised. He had thought that his master would have offered a task as far away from Jedi as possible. If his marooning had been any indication, Jedi hunts would have been far away for the foreseeable future as punishment for his transgressions. The situation on this Valkin had to have been dire enough for Palpatine to recall him.

“They will be slaughtered to the last,” promised Vader, the flange of his voice tinged with restrained excitement. “I will not displease you this time, master.”

Darth Sidious smiled, and the disciple was immediately put on guard. “I would hope so, Lord Vader. To both the upcoming operation, as well as your…earlier commitment to the security of the Empire.”

(cont.)
>>
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A test, then, thought Vader as the image of Palpatine de-rezzed. His eagerness soured, the Sith Lord slowly raised himself up, and returned to the sole chair in his quarters. There would be no more rest for him, or at least what passed for rest with the trappings of his armor. And he had little desire to request medication to inoculate himself and find comfort in a dreamless sleep. Down that path lay a dependence on narcotics, slavery to a pill that alleviated the burdens of his mind.

The Force shall free me.

Vader meditated on the code of the Sith, honing his pain and anger into a deadly, mental lance. His agony in the suit, the rage he felt against Kenobi, and the frustration of the prior week coalesced, visualized and caged, writhing like a beast waiting to be pointed at the enemy. The Jedi of Valkin would have no respite from him. He would not make the same mistake as he had done on Otavon XII.

Emerging from his dark thoughts, the disciple summoned Appo with another press of a button. It did not take too long before the Clone appeared, lingering outside the threshold of his quarters. He was very much the image of a good soldier, and one that the Kaminoans could say was one of their better subjects based off Jango Fett. A consummate professional, through and through, but years of training and indoctrination were unable to completely mask his unease at the sight of Vader.

“Set a course for the Valkin System,” the disciple instructed, “Order your men to prepare for anti-Jedi operations upon planetfall. This is a punitive mission against treasonous insurgency.”

“Very good, sir.” Snapping off a sharp salute, the commander went to carry out his orders. Perhaps walking too swiftly away from the Sith Lord’s quarters. He would learn in time to grow accustomed to his presence, but today was not that day.

Once again, Vader was left alone in the darkness of his room, with only thoughts to keep the Sith company. With sleep a distant, far-off thing, and refusing to let idleness play havoc on his mind, he threw himself into what little work he was able to meaningfully accomplish without his lightsaber.

Opening his terminal, he perused the list of messages and notifications. Most were mundane, the rote and file paperwork that concerned the day-to-day operations of the 501st. Those merely required his electronic signature, warranting only a brief perusal before moving onto more urgent communiqués.

There were no updates on the Jedi that had escaped Murkhana only a handful of weeks ago. Roan Shryne and Olee Starstone, for all intents and purposes, had disappeared. Their escape from the planet had been a near thing, utilizing a hyperspace ring left by an errant crime lord. One could say that it was an unfortunate footnote attached to the end of an otherwise successful report: they were the only Jedi out of an original six to have escaped. He had four new lightsabers to prove it, including that of Starstone’s late master.

(cont.)
>>
Yet it still galled at Vader. Their escape had exposed a raw nerve and a sobering reality. He had much to do to make himself whole once more, or as close as he could to the height of Anakin Skywalker’s power. The latest humiliation on Otavon XII only drove the point further in, even as white-hot anger fueled his resolve and satiated the Dark Side of the Force.

He studied the ghostly images attached to their dossier: Shryne’s irritated scowl and Starstone’s engaging smile. Vader lingered on them for only a handful of moments before they de-rezzed, their faces and file replaced by another report. Their time would come soon enough.

There was little else that truly piqued his attention. Uprisings in the Mid Rim and the re-organization of Separatist Forces conjured only a mild, passing interest. Those were in the domain of mortal men, the rising stars of the rechristened Imperial Navy. The opportunity for prestige and advancement would only be deprived if they failed to carry out the Emperor’s orders. And for failure, the punishment was a deprivation of life.

And then there were reports from his master’s new Inquisitorius. And even there, nothing stood out beyond updates on the plundering of the Jedi Temple. None were addressed to him directly, referencing him only as a recipient in reports to Sidious. Vader took a dark pleasure in reading of the great pyre laid out on the steps of the temple, but otherwise grew ambivalent to the long, overly-detailed reports submitted by the interim head of the agency.

>>Because of actions taken during the first thread…

He was about to close his terminal and resume practicing his lightsaber when something caught his attention. It was a message, sent only a day after the Battle of Coruscant, and halfway buried beneath everything else, originating from a Jedi chapter house in the Mid Rim. But what caused the breath in Vader’s throat to stop was to whom it was addressed.

Hey, Skywalker!

We just got the good news! And I know that celebrating death isn’t something we’re supposed to do, but the galaxy’s a better place without Dooku. Which is an odd thing to type considering how he inspired me to take up Form II. But I guess that answers the long-standing debate we had of who’d win in a serious, no-holds-barred fight. So…congratulations on striking a fatal blow against the Separatists! All that’s left is to get Grievous, but I’m sure you’ll be on that tin-can’s ass in no time flat.

The end of the war means some well-deserved down-time for myself and Master Larid…and you, of course! I’ll see if I can’t swing by around Coruscant for the inevitable celebration the Republic’s gonna throw for you. It’ll definitely be the better circumstances we’d hoped for since our last meeting.

But don’t let me rain on your parade. We'll be seeing each other soon.

Ever your friend…


“Farren Gaelle…” spoke Anakin Skywalker in a ragged, hushed whisper.

(cont.)
>>
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But the moment didn’t last. Darth Vader’s eyes narrowed sharply, the uncertain emotions quashed by a cold logic. What was the meaning of this? How had a message for Skywalker made its way into the Sith Lod’s private terminal? Vader checked, but found no indication of any evidence of forwarding. The message was unopened, even timestamped as being delivered to the personal datapad of Skywalker….

Beyond Vader, there were only three people in the galaxy who knew what Skywalker had become. One was dead, killed by his own hand. The other had mutilated him and left him to burn. The last was a shadow who understood and soothed his pains, and put him back together as a cybernetic monstrosity.

Logic pointed to the third as the most likely culprit. Was this some sort of test from Palpatine?
But the mystery of the message could be resolved later. Lightsaber practice was forgotten as Vader depressed the communications button on his chair. Even as the Executor was travelling through hyperspace, the comm buoys scattered across the galaxy enabled communication to-and-from real space. He only needed to wait for a handful of moments, barely even a minute, before the current head of the Inquisitorius answered the line and appeared on the screen.

Malorum was an unremarkable, painfully average human male in appearance. He couldn’t have been older than his mid-twenties. The agent’s scowl at the interruption of his work turned into horrified surprise. He abruptly straightened in his seat, adjusting his clothing as he inclined his head. “Lord Vader! To what do I owe the…pleasure-?”

“There is a Jedi Chapter House on the planet Nazira,” the Sith coldly intoned, cutting him off before he could grovel, “On the border of the Expansion and Mid Rim. Dispatch a team of agents to investigate it immediately. I expect a full report upon the completion of my current mission to Valkin.”

Even through the static of the image, there was no missing the perplexed expression on the inquisitor’s face. “Of…course. I…” He paused, consulting something to a terminal adjacent to his own. “…yes, visiting Nazira is a bit further down on the itinerary, but I’ll have it made an immediate priority. Do you believe that there are Jedi hiding there?”

The unspoken question was whether or not it would be safe for them to make planetfall. Vader sneered behind his helmet. “It would be highly unlikely for them to remain.”

Malorum frowned, steepling his fingers even as he nodded. “Very well. I’ll be departing within the next few hours.” A beat of silence. Then, he hesitantly ventured, “What’s so important about Nazira, my lord?”

When no answer came immediately, Malorum hurriedly bowed and terminated the call.

(cont.)
>>
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Vader wasted no time. His terminal answered any and all queries that he had, no differently than when he searched for the six Jedi assigned to Murkhana. And even light-years away from Coruscant, what data the Inquisitorius plundered from Jedi holocrons and storage-banks was accessible to him. Even updated as more and more information was decrypted. And for the first time since Skywalker’s odd friendship with the man, Vader had full, unrestricted access to his friend’s story.

Farren Gaelle. Found abandoned on the steps of the Jedi Temple twenty-five years ago. Father unknown. Mother…deleted from the archives? Vader frowned as he tried to access backups, all to no end. The only mention of the woman was in reference to another Jedi, and a roster from a youngling clan – all deleted, and the report of deletion was accessible only by those on the Council. Anyone without that level of clearance simply found nothing at all.

Curious and worthy of deeper investigation. But he set that aside as he continued. An encounter with jealous younglings and rejects bound for the Agri Corps found him nearly beaten to an inch of his life. Gaelle held them off, grabbing a nearby object (a broom of all things) when his lightsaber was wrenched out of his hand. The impromptu weapon held out long enough for the Temple Guard to arrive.

Beyond the mention of his Youngling Clan, the Salamanders, there was little beyond the scandal, and the more recent assignment to the chapter house. But Anakin Skywalker had in his memories what the Temple lacked. Gaelle had been apprenticed to a Jedi Shadow, Master Larid. The secrecy had stifled their friendship, but they had kept in regular correspondence, meeting occasionally, then often during the Clone Wars.

“C’mon, Snips. He might be a padawan, same as you, but you could stand to learn a thing or two from him.”

Vader paused.

This was the first time that thoughts of Skywalker’s padawan had entered his mind. With those thoughts came uncertain emotions, a slurry of muddled feelings that caused the furnace of his heart to ache. But they eventually coalesced into anger, a tight fist, and a grinding of teeth. Tano had left Skywalker when he had needed her the most, threw three years of training in his face in order to go her own way. If she had stayed, then perhaps what had transpired between Kenobi and Padme…

“Farren, I know you’re in the Outer Rim, but Ahsoka…she’s been accused of terrorism. And the Council isn’t doing anything to defend her! If there’s anything you can do to help…”

But beyond Tano, there was the question of Gaelle. A friend of Skywalker, one of the few that unequivocally welcomed him into the Jedi Temple when others held only resentment or suspicion. A distant, but close enough of a confident to speak to about his criticisms of other Jedi. How many times had he come close to sharing the truth of his and Padme's relationship before deciding against it?

(cont.)
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“The temple’s a pretty big place, especially for new arrivals. So I’ll show you around! It’s expected for us to be temperate with the food, but you can have as much water as you want. Can’t imagine ever living on a desert planet…”

Ahsoka Tano. Apprentice to Anakin Skywalker.

Farren Gaelle. Friend of Anakin Skywalker.

Two among the last remaining chains that had to broken in order for Darth Vader to truly be free.

Tano had disappeared after her departure from the Order, dropping any and all contact. Gaelle had been assigned to the Nazira chapter house overseeing the Kadachi Clan of younglings. It would be foolish to assume that he or his master had stayed on the planet. They would have taken the younglings somewhere else, to continue their training in secrecy.

In the darkest, deepest parts of his furnace heart, Vader knew that they were alive. They had to be. Much like the hated Kenobi, there was to be a fateful meeting between the last two meaningful people in Anakin Skywalker’s life. He had trained Tano for three years, known Gaelle for thirteen; they wouldn’t be able to stand by and ignore what was happening.

The hunt for Gaelle was in Malorum’s hands, confident that the inquisitor would come begging to him for aid in his capture. But Vader decided to make Tano’s pursuit his own, private thing. The knowledge of Gaelle’s relationship was secret, and could be written up as merely chasing a lead. But Tano was too close, and it would best be kept to the dark disciple. Not even Sidious could know about it.

Resolved, Vader was about to close the terminal and return to other matters when something else caught his attention. It was a report, flagged for low priority, but nonetheless interesting. A professor of history at the University of Coruscant had claimed part of a cache of Old Republic treasures during the recent sack of Muunilinst. Most of the items within the capsule were treasure as befitting of the crime lord that left the cache, but included among them was a malfunctioning holoprojector.

The Inquisitoirus had deemed it to be of little import, flagging it only in the off-chance that something related to the Jedi might have cropped up. The crime lord in question had been friends with an exile from the order. But even then, that required millennia-old broken technology to be restored. Vader himself felt no differently, almost deleting the message before simply leaving it alone.

Satisfied, he activated the cabin comm. "What is our ETA to Valkin?"

"Four days, Lord Vader," Appo said.

Excellent. Rising from his seat, Vader stalked out of his room, making way to the empty cargo hold that the 501st had set aside for his practice. It would be a long time before he returned to the apex of his power, but the dark disciple found within himself a renewed purpose.

It wouldn't do for his eventual meeting with Kenobi, Gaelle and Tano for his lightsaber skills to be found wanting.

[INTERLUDE END]
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Happy May the 4th!

Hope you guys and gals are safe and doing well. Thanks for sticking around and playing my quest. Since it's the big meme special day, I decided to get a few goodies.

I finally got some original art for Farren that isn't stock or otherwise cobbled together. Will Nunes does fantastic pieces for tabletop RPG characters, and he's the go-to for FFG's SWRPG community. Farren's still WIP, but it's a step in the right direction. I've also got art for Nomiana and Arotta on the way, but is there anyone else you'd like to see original art for? I've got Will tapped for at least five characters, including those three.

At any rate, I just wanted to get the interlude out prior to class. I'll post the start of the main story in a few hours.

I also tried to get Sam Witwer on Cameo to do a shoutout for today, thanking you guys for sticking around and wishing the Force be with you on May 4th. But in his words, "contractual obligations" with Disney prevent him from doing anything that resembles an endorsement for fan podcasts, writings or product. Did privately message me and say it was awesome I was doing an interactive Star Wars story. Never heard of that apparently.
>>
Oh, I nearly forgot. I also have some art for the Storyteller and the Revenant.
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Nice
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>>4788622
that s cool
and welcome back
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>>4788622
We'll get him in this thread yet. Also, I saw that you thanked me on twitter for archiving the last thread. It's no problem, I'll take my payment in bottom-heavy chiss women.
>>
First off, welcome back, Kaz, second:

>Electronic Countermeasures – doubles the DC for enemy shits to hit you.

Heck of a typo to miss.
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>>4788622
Beautiful, absolutely beautiful. Maybe getting some art of Master Larid would be fun? Anyways, gotta love your enthusiasm for a bunch anonymous fuckers on a small board. Can't wait for the rest of the thread.

LETS GOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO
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>>4788622
Ceyla would be a good one to get done too.
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>>4788445
WE'RE BACK BABY!


Hey Kaz, when's /taskforcetg/ coming back, huh?
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>>4788722
Good to be back!

>>4788749
>>Bottom heavy Chiss women
My man.

>>4788775
Whoops!

>>4788953
>>4788959
What can I say? I love what I do, even if it takes me a while to get around to do it. Larid and Ceyla would make enough sense, though.

>>4789013
Soon(TM). I have a mechanics overhaul for both that and Bladebound that I need to finish. Angling to run BBR after this.
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>>Serano Spaceport, Amagi (Mylus-3)
>>Mylus System, Unknown Regions, Sector H-3

The light of the morning cedes to midday, spreading the warm, yellow light of Mylus across the savanna world of Amagi. A gentle breeze works its way from the plains and flatlands, offering the denizens of Serano Spaceport reprieve from the otherwise stifling steel jungle of the durasteel spires. The former slaves of the Tof are all hard at work, going about their business with a frenzied gusto and motivated to be just as useful as the soldiers on the Chiller.

Everyone must pull their own weight. Only difference now is that the people are doing it willingly. Most of them, anyway. There are those who grumble about having been re-assigned to their own occupations as slaves, compensated as they were for their labor and given more than adequate rest. But there’s no such thing as a perfect society, at least within the realms of sentient and higher forms of life.

Dressed in plainclothes and with your lightsabers hidden, you might have passed off as a day laborer. Even the noticeable pistol on your hips fails to act as a distinguishing mark, as the right to bear weapons is one the population has taken to gusto. Alas, anonymity is lost upon you. At least every five minutes, someone in the tide of traffic does a double-take, hurriedly pointing to their neighbors that a hero of the revolution walks among them.

You take a small comfort in knowing that they aren’t nearly as thankful as the Kakari. Because you’d die of embarrassment if someone other than the reptilians had gone and named children after you, or composed epic poetry dedicated to your deeds. And with a Padawan in tow, you can only hope that Ceyla’s mild-mannered enough to not make too much of a fuss about it. Or otherwise take a page out of Master Larid’s book.

“We’re looking for a Mandalorian?” asks the girl at your side, skipping to match some of your longer strides.

“Yep,” you answer, jostling against the crowd as it flows through the main thoroughfare. “Or at the very least, following her trail.”

She frowns, puzzled. “What’s a Mandalorian doing all the way out in the Unknown Regions?”

Shrugging, you admit, “I honestly don’t know. The subject never came up over drinks.”

“Hold on…” The frown is audible in her voice, not quite reproachful as much as in need of context. “You went drinking with a Mandalorian? When…?”

“The night prior to the siege of the spaceport.” Deciding to err to the better part of discretion, you decide to not share the more sordid details with an impressionable thirteen-year-old. “Come morning, I was supposed to get the gates open and disable the wall guns. Just happened that while I was playing the role of an off-world traveler, I ran into her at the tavern I was staying.”

One hell of a coincidence, you think to yourself. And Ceyla seems very inclined to agree. “How'd you find out she was Mandalorian anyway?”

(cont.)
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More adventures of Farren? Yesssss
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>>4789451
>My man.
I'll shill for her harder than any shill this quest has ever seen previous, all you just set her up. K(yle)anan J(K)a(tarn)rrus had a tsundere Imp to butt heads with, we might find one of our own.
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>>4789470
Because I saw her Beskar armor in the corner of the bedroom we made an absolute mess out of.

But you don’t say that. Instead, you tap the small of your wrist. “Mandalorian sigil tattooed onto her wrist. Didn’t exactly go flaunting it, but those are the kinds of small details you’re expected to spot as a Shadow. So be sure to keep your eyes peeled-”

A beat, then you kick yourself in the head as you suddenly remember her species’ unique condition. “Oh, dammit. I’m sorry, Ceyla-”

Her response is to offer an exaggerated sigh, then a friendly smile. “Don’t worry about it, Master. I know what you meant to convey.”

“Right…” Sheepishly, you rub the back of your head. It doesn’t make you feel less of an insensitive clod. “Admittedly, I don’t know all that much about miraluka biology. I get that you use the Force to see, but what exactly can you perceive?”

Ceyla thinks on it, following you in silence before she extends a finger towards a building on the side. “I see both the wall and what lies behind it. There’s a woman haggling with a merchant over a bottle of water. And on the floor above them, there’s someone babysitting a trio of children.”

You whistle, low and impressed. “But you can’t see color, right?”

She shakes her head. “Just shades of white or black. But I can distinguish organics from inanimate objects. Even if they’re dead, doesn’t matter how recent.”

How delightfully morbid. But you decide to steer the conversation back towards the topic of tattoos. “So, let’s say that I’ve got some ink. Say…the symbol of the Jedi Order on the back of my hand.”

“That…would be something we’d have to discover,” she admits, “If there were any Jedi back on Coruscant who had tattoos, then I never met them.”

“What about Vuqu?” It slips your tongue before you can catch yourself. At the scandalized look Ceyla gives you, you hurriedly elaborate, “All the mirialans I’ve met have tattoos. It’s a custom for them, I think. Doesn’t she…?”

Her mouth thins into a very severe line. “She uses henna, Master Farren, or something close enough to it. The masters back on Coruscant were very insistent that permanent tattoos were reserved only after she became a padawan. I’m assuming that when you’re asking about tattoos or describing the Mandalorian’s, you mean the kinds used with metallic pigments.”

It seems that there’s still some bad blood between the girls. That’s another topic on top of miraluka vision you’d have to explore in the course of Ceyla’s apprenticeship.

Coughing, you nod. “Yes. But beyond the tattoo, the Mandalorian we’re looking for is a human woman, mid-twenties and just a few inches shorter than I am. Black hair, cropped just at her neck, yellowish skin tone…and the Mandalorian sigil on her wrist. Can’t forget that.”

(cont.)
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The tension in your padawan’s body visibly exits at the change of subject. And with a deceptively innocent smile, inquires: “What about her name? Did that come up as well over drinks?”

Snorting, you wave her off before she can make any other smart remarks. Between the interview and this current moment, it seems that Ceyla hides a sharp tongue behind her friendly demeanor. “Nomiana Whrul. And before you ask, I gave an alias. As far as she knows, I’m Ren the off-world traveler, not Farren Gaelle the Jedi.

“You should start cultivating an alias as well,” you add, “Possibly several. That was something I practiced extensively with Master Larid early on. Doesn’t need to be so nearly on the nose, but I’ve found that the best lies are the ones mixed with the truth.”

“It seems…a tad bit on the nose,” she demurs, but nods accordingly. “I’ll start thinking about one. I’ve already got Cey as a nickname.”

“We can workshop as many as you’d like later,” you promise. “The central market approaches!”

To think that only a month and a half ago, the Great Trade had brought a balance of extremes in the main square. Happy were the procurers and buyers of peddled flesh, smiling as they dealt in misery and despair. The slaves that you were once helpless to save from the auction block are no more. The only flesh to be seen on the podium are the rotting corpses of a handful of Tof, among other species strung up and gibbeted for all to see.

“THUS ALWAYS TO SLAVERS” reads the sign at their feet. But it’s a small comfort as you see that the citizens of the new stratocracy are far too comfortable with dead bodies in the open. Their desire for freedom and fierce opposition to slavery is certainly to be admired. The execution of the Viceroy’s wife and some of his children had been necessary for Keimann to cement himself as a resolute, authoritative figure.

Regrettable, but necessary. The youngest had been spared, as well as a daughter that allegedly does little more than the ferroan’s laundry…possibly more than that if the rumors are to be believed, which you don’t.

But you can only hope that the Supreme Archon is able to reign in the darker impulses of the newly-liberated slaves. And hold back the beast that you had helped unleash upon the Tof, innocent though they very much weren’t.

“Alright, look alive, Ceyla,” you say as you approach one of the stalls. Weapons of all sorts hang from the overhead racks as a young pantoran male cleans a blaster. “Information Gathering 101. Small talk goes a long way, and you won’t always have a friendly populace to sus out leads from…”

>>Roll 2d6+2 Charm (+2 Panache)
>Best out of three.
>>
Rolled 5, 5 + 2 = 12 (2d6 + 2)

>>4789599
Here goes...
>>
Rolled 5, 5 + 2 = 12 (2d6 + 2)

>>4789599
>>
Rolled 1, 1 + 2 = 4 (2d6 + 2)

>>4789599
Hello there
>>
Rolled 2, 2 + 2 = 6 (2d6 + 2)

>>4789599
Still get nervous when I roll in this quest. Those trip ones from thread 2 or so haunt me...
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>>4789602
>>4789604
>>4789606
That's quite a mix of rolls
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>>4789606
...sir, please leave.
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>>4789606
Shouldn't have said anything.
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>>4789606
>>
>>4789606
So uncivilized.
>>
This crit fail can go many ways, and I hope it doesn't go the way I think it will.
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>>4789631
We're spilling our spaghetti all over Ceyla, the person we approach, and ourselves. Jedi will be forever mocked as awkward dumbasses on Amagi. Or at least we will be.
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>>4789637
That's what I'm hoping for. We learned from our pistol practice that not every critfail will cost an arm and a limb.
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>>4789641
I mean, we did get two 10's before the snake eyes got us, maybe something good will come out of it?
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>>4789602
>>4789604
>>4789606

>>Interpreting the dice...
>>Moderate Success while generating Despair.

“Master, please, it wasn’t all that bad!” Ceyla’s attempt to console you falls on deaf, sullen ears. Clutching a glass of the strongest drink available, you down it straight, grimacing as it lights a fire down your throat. “I mean, now I know that asking about the lack of markings on a pantoran’s face is a really bad faux pass!

You idly ponder the mystery of the drink, staring into the bottom of your cup as if it had the answers to the universe. It’s not quite the level of plonk, but it makes up in alcohol content what it does in taste. Apparently, this latest assault on your taste buds and sobriety is colloquially referred to as “Slave’s Tea”. Yet you’re fairly damned sure that the brewer didn’t add any tea leaves.

“Or…or the fact that gamorrean women ran businesses,” continues the miraluka, “And that the, uh…the Aquala really don’t like it when you mistake them for their thuggish Quara cousins…and I didn’t know that the standard ‘yaa-yaaah’ greeting was gravely offensive for the Ugnaughts…”

Oh, apprentice…your attempts to try and soothe your master’s wounded pride are only amplifying his shame. If not for the fact that I know you aren’t doing it out of malice…actually, I’m not sure if that hurts more than if it did…

You aren’t about to get drunk. But damned if you’re about to simply walk away as if the last hour of questioning didn’t happen. Sure, your status as one of the great heroes of the revolution certainly smoothed and eased tempers. What might have degenerated into a brawl was quickly laughed off, joking that the Jedi haven’t gotten out all that much from their temple.

A statement that you very much resent. You spent more of your life outside of the temple than in it, dammit! At the very least, you only remembered how to greet an ugnaught the second after the greeting left your lips. That could’ve been chalked up to the stressors of late getting to you. Besides, the galaxy’s a terribly large place! There’s only so many customs and traditions one can keep track of at any given moment…

“C’mon, Master Farren…” she whines, tugging at your sleeve like a petulant child…which she technically is. “I promise I won’t tell Master Larid what happened. And I’m honestly grateful for what to avoid saying to certain alien species! Far more effective than anything I ever learned in the temple…”

At her urging, you stand up and drink the last of the “tea” before you rejoin the world of the sober. Not that you aren’t drunk. Slave’s Tea is strong, but not that strong, thank the Force. Only mildly numb, you set a few coins on the table before following your padawan back out into the market. The urge to pull your hood up and disappear is quashed by the fact that you’re in plainclothes, and not the robes of a Jedi.

(cont.)
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>>4789740
You know what they say, Its good to learn from your failures but better to learn from others'
>>
KAZ-SAMA IS BACK!!
>>
https://twitter.com/scott_kerr/status/1387798727503589378
Found some beautiful art you guys might be interested in.
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THINK Storyteller, THINK!! I've already killed SEVERAL saber wielding opponents, many of them dark sided, along with having fucked up a Force Entity, WHAT DID YOU THINK WAS GOING TO HAPPEN?
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>>4791536
NOW LOOK WHAT YOU MADE ME DO! I've had to mow down the REST of your Revenants, you know how?! BY SWITCHING WHICH SABER I HOLD IN WHAT HAND! Maybe don't send a bunch of kids from the SPACE SHORT BUS NEXT TIME!
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>>4791542
There is no way Shaggy could have lost a battle against Grievous. This is inaccurate.
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>>4791555
Legend of the phantosaur was a decade ago anon, the meme is dead, let it go.
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>>4791582
I have fond memories of shaggy when I was little, Shaggy coming back as a meme was a fucking gift from god. Let me be.
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>>4791542
RIP Sha'a Gi
I know the Purge would have gone differently if he had lived.
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>>4789740

Kaz and (cont.)'s that are left forever hanging in the void, name a more iconic duo.
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>>4789740
“Silver linings,” you mutter, dragging a hand across your face. “…definitely need to brush up on my xeno-studies. Worst thing that happened was getting beaned by a fruit…”

“But we got the intelligence we needed,” countered Ceyla.

But at what cost? you silently bemoan.

Among the dozens of vendors, there had been a few that recall Nomiana patronizing their shop. To absolutely no-one’s surprise, these merchants were more often than not arms dealers. Some were former slaves, the bakers and cooks, whole-sellers and servants. They opined that she had the coin to pay for goods and services, and was overall among the more civilized customers to treat with.

By sheer circumstance, one of the clothing merchants had a sibling who worked as a cargo hauler on the docks. He’d been charged with ferrying goods from market to ship and vice versa; fuel and freshwater, dried rations and exotic fruits, mechanical parts and even slaves. A handful of days prior to the Revolution, he’d been charged with delivering a resupply of foodstuffs and munitions to Nomiana’s ship.

The information of said ship, however, cost a tad bit more than the price of Ceyla’s new wardrobe.

“I have absolutely no need for a feathered hat!” you exclaim, exasperated as the toydarian tries to shove his goods into your face. “Nor the period piece that’s accompanying it! At least throw in a cutlass if you’re gonna put that much lace on the damned thing…”

It takes the better part of a moment’s haggling, but you get your information as you ring up the purchase. Nomiana owns a gunship, a somewhat small vessel that straddled the line between a single-person fighter and a light cargo hauler. The sketch the merchant’s brother dashes out on a stray scrap of paper means nothing to you; it’s an unfamiliar design.

The cargo manifesto, however, provides both a name: the Tracinya. Which, according to an off-hand remark Whrul had made, translates into “Flame” out of Mando’a. Only somewhat longer than an ARC-170, less maneuverable too, but made up for it plenty of guns and presumably tougher armor. A true believer in the Way of the Mandalore would have approved.

“And you have no idea where she went?” you ask.

The dockhand shakes his head, flapping his wings with an irritated huff. “If I’d known, I’d have told you already! The last time I saw your woman was three days before the rebellion. The Tof had me rotated out of the dock where the Tracinya was berthed.”

“Do you think there’s anyone else who might’ve seen her on the day of the rebellion?”

He thinks, adopting a pensive expression, nose wrinkling in up in concentration. “Eh…honestly, and I tell you this because you are the Supreme Archon’s friend, you’d have more luck on the Chiller than down here. Most of the able dockhands accompanied the M.S.D.F. for Operation IceBreaker.”

(cont.)
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>>4791733
...I need to complain more often.
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>>4791733
So, did he add in the cutlass? Because, hey, not going to turn down a cutlass with the purchase.
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>>4791756
if he needs to blend in with space pirates, it might come in handy
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>>4791756

Imagine dueling a Dark Jedi or an Inquisitor or something, Farren's lightsabers fly out of his hands, he seems to be helpless, and suddenly CUTLASS.
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>>4791765
Malorum is such a piss-poor duelist that if we ever have to fight him, we'd probably be able to take him with a cutlass.
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>>4791771
Who is that guy anyway? Someone from the cartoons?
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>>4791733
>>4791733
Damn. But you give him a little extra for his troubles. “Thanks for the help. And…” You pause as his sibling, the clothing merchant, casts you a wary eye. “I didn’t mean to cause offense to your brother with the whole, uh…”

The toydarian dockhand laughs raucously. “All is forgiven. But next time, make sure I’m around when you imply that his clothing looks like it came from a Tof’s closet!”

>>Line Break

“Don’t feel too bad, master,” offers Ceyla once you make it a safe distance away from the market. “I mean…you got a cutlass out of it?”

“It’s not even mono- or vibro-edged,” you grumble, seating yourselves on a nearby bench to assess the day’s damages (read: purchases). “I mean, I don’t think it’ll snap if I try to skewer someone with it. The metalwork’s solid enough in that regard. Push comes to shove, I can mount it over the mess hall or pass it off to Suzel once I get a bladesmith to look at it. Force knows that he’d use it.”

“Suzel?” your padawan tilts her head in confusion.

Ah, that’s right. She wouldn’t know.

“He’s the co-pilot of the Albatross,” you elaborate, “He signed on to pay me back after I helped his parents in the slave revolution. Speaking of which…you’ll be meeting my crew soon enough once the day’s over. They all should be back at the ship come sundown.”

She muses on this, running her fingers through the fabric of her new tunic. The miraluka marvels at the sensation, running a sleeve across her cheek. The sight brings an involuntary smile to your lips. If not for the blindfold and lightsaber hidden in her leather boots, Ceyla might have been mistaken for an ordinary, thirteen-year-old girl.

Your padawan manages one more pass of her fingers before she regains control of herself. “So other than Suzel, who else are we gonna have accompanying us?”

“That’d be telling,” you gently chide her, “I wouldn’t want to ruin any first impressions.”

Somehow, in spite of her species’ unique trait, you can tell that she’d done the equivalent of rolling her eyes. The motions certainly matched up. But she doesn’t make an issue out of it, instead opining: “Thank you for the new clothes.”

“You’re welcome.” An old saying comes to mind, and you pass on Master Larid’s words to Ceyla: “They say that clothes make the man, or in this case, the woman. If that’s the case, then it wouldn’t be prudent for Jedi Shadows to be in the conspicuously dark apparel we commonly wear. Especially if we need to go into Empire territory.”

“But I will get my own Jedi Shadow uniform?”

“Yes, yes, have no fear, my very fashion-sensitive padawan. One day, you will get your own set of the iconic, black robes and look every part the mysterious Jedi Shadow to the rest of your friends...”

(cont.)
>>
>>4791810
A character from the Last of the Jedi book series. He tried to jump across that pit in the Naboo power generator and force pull his lightsaber back to him at the same time. He failed at both and died, so he's not exactly the Inquisitorius' cream of the crop. Smarter than your average imp though.
>>
>>4791823
>smarter than your average imp

So he won't drown if he looks up during a thunderstorm?
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>>4791894
Unfortunately not, no. Malorum knows to stay inside during such dangerous weather. He's still a bumblefuck retard though, he thinks that despite never being trained as a Jedi and being only slightly force-sensitive, he could be Emperor one day.
>>
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>>4791817
You expertly dodge the half-assed swipe of annoyance that Ceyla directs your way. And it is only now when a sudden epiphany hits you as your padawan sticks her tongue out and huffs her cheeks petulantly. Only now, after thirteen years of questionable hijinks with Master Larid, do you now come to understand…

Harmlessly messing with your apprentice is fun.

>>Tof Internment Camp #21-A

As far as your experience with prison camps go, you’d seen better…and worse. With how the Tof treated their slaves, you would’ve been disappointed, but understanding if their site of internment was little beyond a hole in the ground. But you find yourself idly surprised as the monorail deposits you and Ceyla to the penal camp just beyond the spaceport’s outer borders.

The miraluka sneezes, shivering only after a handful of steps. “Master…?”

“You alright?” you ask.

“Yeah, I’m fine it’s just…” She shudders, taking a moment to reorient herself. “There’s so much hatred. From both the prisoners and the guards…”

“Careful.” You gesture towards a nearby bench. “You can just wait here in the terminal. It’s your first day, and I don’t want you stressing yourself.”

Ceyla shakes her head vigorously. “No. That won’t be necessary. It just took me by surprise, is all. Just like auras of the Tof back on the Chiller, just…amplified a little bit.”

Privately, you have your doubts. But you decide to not make an issue out of it unless something untoward happens. “Alright, if you say so. That said, you’re not gonna argue if I decide that you gotta go.”

“Perfectly acceptable…” Then, she pauses. “…you believe Whrul was that chummy with the Tof?”

You shake your head as you flag down one of the wardens. “I can’t say for all of them. But I know at least one for sure.”

>>Line Break

Barkeep Ingmar, former proprietor of the Tipsy Toffer, has certainly seen better days. The noticeable girth of his species is diminished, and his formerly immaculate locks are a wild, greasy mess. In lieu of a bartender’s smock, he wears a prisoner’s jumpsuit very poorly, an ugly, orange thing with an identification number stitched onto the breast pocket.

Underneath the watchful eye of a small squad of guards, he’s sullenly lead into the waiting room. But his downcast features suddenly perk up at a first, casual glance…before his eyes widen as far as they can in visible recognition.

“Ren?!” demands the Tof, settling down into his seat. The manacles around his hands and legs are firmly locked in place to both the table and the floor. “That’s you, isn’t it, Ren? It’s been a month and a half, but I’ve never forgotten a customer’s face…”

You nod warily. “Long time no see, Ingmar. And for what it’s worth…the thought of telling you to get out of the capital did cross my mind prior to the revolution.”

(cont.)
>>
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“Cross your mind, what do you…” He stares at you, dumbfounded, before his eyes narrow sharply. “You helped the slaves with their insurrection.”
It isn’t a question. There’s no sugar-coating the subject, but you aren’t about to go spilling how involved you were, or how critical the role you played was. Let alone the original reason for your and Torok’s journey to the Mylus System. “Yeah. I guess I did.”

Both the guards and Ceyla visibly tense as the veins in the Tof’s neck strain with effort. But the breath and anger leave him, chuckling bitterly as he leans back against his seat. “And to think I gave you a free drink on the house. Look where my hospitality’s gotten me…”

You could counter with questions regarding the dancing girls under his employ. You’ve had more time to think about it, and concluded that the absence of explosive collars were done more for the patrons’ comfort. Nothing quite put a dampener on arousal more than the threat of an explosion.

But Ingmar seems to sense your thoughts. He shrugs as far as his manacles let him. “Believe it or not, I treated my slaves better than most. Three meals a day, relative comfort and luxury, choice of customers and the opportunity to buy back their freedom…fear and repression doesn’t go hand-in-hand with the service industry, Ren.”

There are probably hundreds of waiters, chefs and busboys on Coruscant who might vehemently disagree with that statement. “So, what was the stick you had when the carrot didn’t work, and your girls refused to turn tricks? I just find it hard to believe that you’d let them say ‘no’ to insistent customers.”

The bartender half-grimaces. “A good businessman protects his investments and capital. A vehicle rental company wouldn’t hand over the keys to their finest swoop bike to a group of teenagers or uncontrollable hooligans. The risk of damage and loss of capital is too high, no matter how much they are offering to pay for just a single evening’s…joyride. But even I have my limits; what can a simple bartender do when one of his girls catches the eye of the viceroy’s son or brother?”

There’s more than one guard with an itchy finger close to the triggers of their weapons. And Ceyla herself looks severely uncomfortable, fists balled tight enough for her knuckles to go white. Your breath exits in a long, draw-out hiss through your nostrils as you stare at the bartender who’d welcomed you amicably. “…I don’t know whether or not to be impressed or disgusted.”

“Why not both?” grunts the Tof. “But let’s cut to the chase, Ren. I don’t think you brought me out of gaol just to discuss the ethics of peddling flesh. If you have enough influence with the new regime to get them…” -he casts a dirty look to the guards- “to do this, then it must be important. If not, then send me back to my cell. I have better things to do than suffer your ridicule, justified as it might be.”

(cont.)
>>
>>4788567
>a cache of Old Republic treasures during the recent sack of Muunilinst. Most of the items within the capsule were treasure as befitting of the crime lord that left the cache, but included among them was a malfunctioning holoprojector.
Just realized this was the shit that leads the Empire to Celeste Morne and the Muur Talisman. Thought for a bit that Kaz was dangling a future plot thread, but had to think about how many Old Republic-era ex-Jedi had a crime lord friend. Maybe our new holocron can help us with getting there before the imps?
>>
>>4792004
His cheek is rewarded with the butt of a rifle colliding into the back of his skull. Ingam crashes face-first into the table, spitting blood everywhere. But before he’s able come up for air, one of the guards presses a riot baton against the Tof’s throat.

“Know your place, scum!” snarls the warden, a white-eyed Arkanian. “You’re already on thin ice as it is. Do not give me even the slightest reason to alleviate your burden on the taxpayers’ credits!”

At the questioning look you direct towards him, the warden spits, “They’re all on two meals a day, one for the more unruly ones and flat-out none for those on death row. A Force-damned waste of good food and water, if you ask me, especially with the water shortage. And then you have the bastards who complain that they aren’t being served caviar or fine wine.”

“I’m quite content with every day I live, warden,” growls the Tof, “I’m on my best behavior because it’s a worthwhile endeavor to invest in. The chances of parole-”

“Are next to nothing,” a guard flatly intones.

“That’s still a nonzero chance. But I realize that I’ve made a mistake. Kindly let me up so I can apologize…”

The warden scoffs dismissively, waving for the guard to remove the stun baton. Ingarm comes up for air, gasping and massaging his throat. He rubs at the corner of his jaw, working the muscles before he speaks, “I…apologize, Ren. It’s admittedly been a rough month. It’s rare for me to find stress relief that doesn’t involve punching one of the more unruly of my neighbors…”

>>How will you approach Ingmar?
>“If you cooperate, I can do more than just take you out of your cell for a brief talk.” [Good cop]
>“Way I see it, I’m the only thing standing between you and a slow death by starvation.” [Bad cop]
>“Do you want to know what my friend and I did to the late Viceroy and his family?” [Worse cop]
>Custom option.

VOTE OPEN FOR EIGHT HOURS.
>>
>>4792071
>Custom option.
The impression I get from this guy is that he's a slimeball but leaning more amoral than immoral with a strong practical streak.
Therefore I suggest we approach this not as a cop but as a businessman, we're laying out a deal, don't exaggerate what we can offer and don't give him much wiggle room. We have a trade to make and we're not willing to haggle too much
>>
>>4792071
>>“If you cooperate, I can do more than just take you out of your cell for a brief talk.” [Good cop]

Always a good choice. besides, we owe him for that drink on the house.
>>
>>4792071
>you cooperate, I can do more than just take you out of your cell for a brief talk.” [Good cop]

This plus
>>4792078
This
>>
>>4792071
>“If you cooperate, I can do more than just take you out of your cell for a brief talk.” [Good cop]

He brews his own liquor using the local berries, right? And we just rescued a former CIS commodore who sounds like he has worked previously on a vineyard. Maybe see if we can set them up to work on exporting the stuff, or at least improving the product.
>>
>>4792071
I’ll support whatever deal ends up coming from >>4792078
>>
As far as character art goes, my vote is for Grand Shamanka Bos, the Accuser, & the Herald. It would be pretty kool to see Suzel holding HK-33's head or something like that too.

Nomiana's ship kinda reminds me of the one from Mace Griffin: Bounty Hunter.
>>
>>4792078
+1
Is it wrong for me to want him in our crew? He prob has skills our gang lacks
>>
>>4792078
support
>>
>>4792071
Im also leaning on businessman. Promising too much is both unrealistic and plays our influence a bit TOO far.

Wonder if we can offer him the same terms he just mentioned. 3 meals a day, shelter and clean toilets, choice of work, and the opportunity to buy back his freedom.
>>
>>4792143
As funny as that would be, I don't think he's up for a job where he gets shot at on a regular basis and not just freeing him but giving him a job on our ship would probably stretch even our influence wirh the new regime to breaking.
>>
>>4792440
And frankly, he just doesn't have anything we need.
>>
>>4792071
I like this >>4792078
>>
>>4792078
>His cheek is rewarded with the butt of a rifle colliding into the back of his skull. Ingam crashes face-first into the table, spitting blood everywhere. But before he’s able come up for air, one of the guards presses a riot baton against the Tof’s throat.
>“Know your place, scum!” snarls the warden, a white-eyed Arkanian. “You’re already on thin ice as it is. Do not give me even the slightest reason to alleviate your burden on the taxpayers’ credits!”
>At the questioning look you direct towards him, the warden spits, “They’re all on two meals a day, one for the more unruly ones and flat-out none for those on death row. A Force-damned waste of good food and water, if you ask me, especially with the water shortage. And then you have the bastards who complain that they aren’t being served caviar or fine wine.”
>“I’m quite content with every day I live, warden,” growls the Tof, “I’m on my best behavior because it’s a worthwhile endeavor to invest in. The chances of parole-”
>“Are next to nothing,” a guard flatly intones.
>“That’s still a nonzero chance. But I realize that I’ve made a mistake. Kindly let me up so I can apologize…”
>The warden scoffs dismissively, waving for the guard to remove the stun baton. Ingarm comes up for air, gasping and massaging his throat. He rubs at the corner of his jaw, working the muscles before he speaks, “I…apologize, Ren. It’s admittedly been a rough month. It’s rare for me to find stress relief that doesn’t involve punching one of the more unruly of my neighbors…”
This'll work
>>4792143
The only(?) crew spot we have open is for the position of quartermaster, which I don't think this guy would excel at.
>>
>>4792681
Fucking hell, did not mean to greentext all of that.
>>
>>4792681
Eeeeh, I mean he ran a bar, that's pretty logistical, right? I imagine running a business likely ain't much different from running a ship's supplies.
>>
>>4792739
yup
>>
>>4792739
Naval quartermasters are different than army quartermasters. They're more like signalmen than supply officers.
>>
>>4792754
why would we need a signalman?
supply officer is good though
>>
>>4792824
Dedicated com officers are important, especially on scout ships like ours. As for a supply officer, we a) don't own a freighter and b) that crew slot doesn't exist for the Albatross.
>>
>>4792905
i dont agree. we are not in a fleet. we are independent operators and could use someone with procuring skills
>>
>>4792978
We're a shadow, which means we work best when the job we're doing has been researched meticulously, which includes planetary scans, localized scans, and careful navigation. We also want to make best use of our electronic countermeasures and scamblers, insufficently-encrypted communications will raise the risk of what little allies we have being discovered and killed. All of these things fall under the purview of a shipboard quartermaster. We aren't in an army either, the mass-procuration of materiel and provisions isn't important for us. Whatever we might need to find, we can do ourselves. The skills of a seasoned army quartermaster would be wasted on four very resourceful organics and one-and-a-sixth droids.
>>
>>4792078
>>4792079
>>4792087
>>4792088
>>4792113
>>4792143
>>4792248
>>4792270
>>4792635

>>Mix of "Good Cop" and "Business".

Your mouth curls up into the faintest approximation of a grim smile. “No offense taken. You’re a businessman, Ingmar. An amoral bastard of one, certainly, but a businessman at heart. I can respect your drive for enterprise well enough, even if I despise your works.”

The Tof snorts, thumbing one nostril shut to void his sinuses of any lingering blood. “I’m quite glad to hear that. Word-of-mouth was how the Toffer acquired its reputable reputation. But what is you’re angling from me?”

“Information,” you answer bluntly, shifting in your seat. “I’m looking for information regarding a mutual acquaintance. One of your customers, actually.”

He blinks, boredom ceding way to mild interest. “Really now? But you should know that a good barkeep doesn’t make a habit of sharing patrons’ information with others. The realm of the bar is a sacred, confidential place.”

“But a businessman is willing to listen,” you counter. “And I’m more than willing to reimburse you if your information’s good.”

That gets his attention. He straightens in his seat, and there’s no feigning the focus in his eyes. “So let’s talk business, then. What is it that you can offer me, Ren?”

And here you go. The bait’s in the water, and the prey’s angling and probing for a bite. “A good word. I don’t make it a habit of tooting my own horn, but I have a bit of influence with the M.S.D.F.”

And Supreme Archon Keimann.

“Can you advocate for my freedom?” he demands, with just the barest hint of desperation. The guards tense as his chains rattle and writhe against his muscles. “Give me my freedom, and I’ll tell you anything you want to know.”

“No,” you honestly tell him. But before his temper boils over, you add, “That might be pushing the envelope too hard, and I don’t want to abuse their goodwill. But I want to cut a deal that profits both myself and you. I can take your case to the M.S.D.F. and renegotiate more favorable terms for your imprisonment.”

The warden looks as if he’d swallowed something particularly sour. “With all due respect, sir-”

You cut in before he can protest, “I’m not asking for the whole camp, warden. Just the one Tof. Who as far as I know, at least had hospitably and good manners for off-worlders and non-Tof alike. Makes him practically an exemplar of his species.”

Ingam’s smile is bloody. “Careful now, Ren. I’m all for dumping all over my kindred’s horrific business practices. Ghastly waste of resources and whatnot. But there’s only so much insult to my pride I can take.”

You raise your hands, even as the grin turns wide. “Peace, peace. Merely proving a point to the warden.”

(cont.)
>>
“But how much of this ‘goodwill’ do you actually have?” he asks bluntly, suddenly serious. “And how can I trust you to intercede when we finish this conversation? As far as I know, there’s nothing stopping you from simply forgetting about me once our deal is concluded.”

You lean forward. “The same reason why I trust that you won’t lie about the information.”

“I haven’t even given you anything yet!”

“I know. But you and I are consummate professionals at what we do. You don’t want to be called a liar as much as I want to be known as a deal-breaker. Just as I trust that you’ll tell me what I want to know, I hope you’ll trust me to reciprocate and honor the deal.”

He chews on this for a moment, lips pursed in deep concentration. You’ve got him on the line. Time to reel him in. “Also, the fact that we’re having this meeting should be a sign of my current standing with the new regime. And what was it that you offered your dancing girls? Three meals a day, and the offer to buy back their freedom?”

When he comes out of his deliberations, you can see in his eyes that the deal’s gone through. Hook, line and sinker. “You forgot the part about ‘relative comfort and luxury’, Ren. That’s a dealbreaker.”

You feel your eyes nearly roll up into the back of your skull. “Oh, yes. How could have I forgotten…thank you for reminding me.”

Ingmar barks a harsh laugh. “You must’ve done something to really impress the slaves when the uprising started.”

“Only what I was able to do, and to the best of my ability. Do we have a deal, then?”

The barkeep nods, extending his manacled hand out as if to shake your hand. He considers it, but under the watch of the irate warden and the guards, thinks better and retracts his limbs. “Deal. Just promise me that whatever it is you’re going to do, you’ll do it quickly.”

At your prompting, Ceyla passes you a datapad. “I’ll write it up as we go along. When we’re finished, I’ll send it off to the authorities. You can push the button yourself, if you’d like.”

“Acceptable. So, who is it that you’re asking after?”

“Nomiana Whrul,” you answer. “The Mandalorian woman I met for drinks. She disappeared after the uprising. I’d like to know if you have any information-”

“Nomiana!” he interrupts, genuinely surprised. “You’re asking after her?”

“Is there a problem?”

Ingmar gives you an odd look. “No problem. Just...a surprise. Considering that you shared a few dances and accepted an invite to her room, I figure you’d know more than me...”

At that, Ceyla doubles over in a harsh coughing fit that takes a moment to overcome. Even as your ears turn red, you pointedly ignore your padawan's incredulous gaze boring into the side of your skull. "I was...too preoccupied both during and after the uprising to keep a tab on her. As for knowing anything, we didn't exactly talk much about ourselves."

(cont.)
>>
I think I see a hole in the Ceyla padawan plan. How do we make one of only two Miraluka inconspicuous? Glue googly eyes on her?
>>
What you don’t mention is the trial of the Viceroy’s Family, the subsequent confrontation and duel with the Revenant, and the SNAFU that was your Trial of Spirit. Of course, there had been earlier opportunities upon your return to go asking after Nomiana, but that’s all a moot point. You’re here now, better late than never.

He shares a conspiratorial smirk, and tips a wink not entirely unlike he gave at the close of the evening. “Oh, I don’t doubt that in the slightest, Ren.”

“Ingmar,” you warn him sternly, idly drumming your fingers against the datapad. By your side, Ceyla’s blush goes all the way to the roots of her hair. At least one of guards is snickering, and the warden’s hand twitches for a stun baton.

“Ah, sorry, sorry. But I think she was still in the Toffer when I left for the Great Trade and you were already...you mean you just left her without saying anything and didn’t look back?”

A vein throbs in the side of your head. “I’m not the one being questioned here.”

He sighs, blowing a long, weary stream of breath through his nose. “I’m only trying to establish my recollection of the day’s events prior to the uprising. Quite a lot happened. Almost seems like a lifetime ago when I was a free, enterprising businessman…

“But more seriously,” he continues, “I trust that if you’re asking after her, then it isn’t just for a second date. What exactly do you need from her anyway?”

Months ago, you might’ve answered with “Jedi business” and leave it at that. Instead, you answer in a voice drier than sand, “Security concerns.”

Ingmar senses that he isn’t going to get anything further out of you. He merely nods, saying, “Ask away, then. I’ll answer whatever questions you’ve got as best I can.”

>>What do you want to ask Ingmar?
>Write in.

[OPEN FOR SIX HOURS]
>>
>>4793228
>Did she ever mention any clans or groups she is or was a part of, either predominantly Mandalorian or otherwise?
>What line of work did she work in, or at least what you assume she worked in?
>When did you first meet her, and have you or anyone you met ever required her services?
>Has she ever brought other Mandalorians to the Tipsy Toffer, or anyone with similar interests or work experiences?
>Tangentially related, but have you ever heard rumors of a mercenary or bounty hunter type who wields a length of chain and a machete-like sword?
>>
>>4793228
"Where is she headed?"

I really dont see the reason why we are looking for her. I thought we were sticking with blueberry.
>>
>>4793228
>Did she ever mention any clans or groups she is or was a part of, either predominantly Mandalorian or otherwise?
>Did she ever mention the specifics of her business in the Unknown Regions?
>How many Mandalorians passed through his establishment? Were they ever in groups? Was she ever with one?

>>4793241
>I really dont see the reason why we are looking for her. I thought we were sticking with blueberry.
Look, if the Mandobros want to team up with the Cunnychads I'm all for that alliance to oust blueberry. The only people who like togrutas are closeted coomers who don't want to be called out for liking Twi Leks.
>>
>>4793241
>I really dont see the reason why we are looking for her.
Some anons with a sunk-cost fallacy from boning a complete stranger.
>>
>>4793250
>making choices out of spite
That's a surefire way to turn a quest to shit.
>>
>>4793268
It's not spite, it's securing my investment. Do you call it spite whenever someone opposes your plan in a quest?
>>
>>4793241
>why we are looking for her.
Wandering Mandos are a potential sign of more serious problems
Mandos are formidable warriors and we could use allies
We kind of owe her an apology
Tracking her down is good training for our Padawan
>>
>>4793227
I'm just going to be incredibly petty and point out that I called that exact shit out back when we were voting for our Padawan. At least Miralukans look human besides needing a blindfold.
>>
>>4793241
Because she's a Mandalorian and Mandalorians are cool. My personal preference for her over Arotta notwithstanding.

Also, she was clearly here on business and not knowing what business that was could end up biting us in the ass in the most convoluted way imaginable.
>>
>>4793228
>Did she mention where she was heading next and if so, where?
>Has she ever brought other Mandalorians to the Tipsy Toffer, or anyone with similar interests or work experiences?
>Did she ever mention any clans or groups she is or was a part of, either predominantly Mandalorian or otherwise?
>Did she ever mention the specifics of her business in the Unknown Regions?
>>
>>4793228

>>4793241
I'm not too motivated to look for her, but she could be connected to more mandalorians, and THAT is a little scary for a jedi to consider. If we could secure something of a truce to not interfere with each other while the empire is all over the place, that would be quite nice.
>>
>>4793227
Opaque goggles/visor. Easy. Or just make some fake prosthetic eyes if need be, Miraluka still have the vestigial sockets, hence why they wear blindfolds.
>>
>>4793240
+1
>>
>>4793621
>Opaque goggles/visor
Yeah dark sunglasses equivalent seems simplest. That said how rare/unknown are Miralukas? I know they're not all jedi so if people know they're a thing than it might not be that critical to hide her lack of eyes
>>
>>4793639
>That said how rare/unknown are Miralukas?
Basically extinct by the Ruusan Reformation and in decline since.
>>
>>4793621
I think the visor would work, I just hope whatever she picks is better looking than the ones from KOTOR and KOTOR II. Regarding sockets vs. no sockets, I think I read somewhere that Miraluka with human admixture had sockets where full-blooded ones didn't. Does that sound familiar to anyone, or did I dream that up? Might've been Chee's headcanon or something.
>>4793639
>That said how rare/unknown are Miralukas?
Pretty rare, and made rarer by the Empire. Still around during the Vong War though, so they weren't just outright exterminated.
>>
>>4793697
What I'd heard was that Miraluka-human hybrids had EYES, they were just all blind from birth, whereas pure Miralukas just had vestigial eye sockets. The whole reason they all wear those blindfolds is to keep other people from freaking out at the sight of them, wouldn't be much reason if they looked like Slenderman under there.
>>
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>>4793702
They might have degrees of socketness, so to speak. Visas Marr's eyesockets were real deep and gnarly looking after Katar, but pic related doesn't look that off-putting at all.
>>
>>4793729
>but pic related doesn't look that off-putting at all.
That looks extremely offputting.
>>
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>>4793733
Relative to this?
>>
>>4793763
Thats better
>>
>>4793770
You have a strange definition of "better."
>>
>>4793702
From my knowledge, Miraluka Hybrids are like playing the genetic lottery. You can get ones with normal eyes and no force vision, ones with no eyes and force vision, big misses with no eyes and no force vision, or big wins with eyes and force vision.
>>
>>4793763
That's less uncanny and gives a male Exile more options.

>>4793776
Ceyla isn't pure is she? They're all probably mixed by this point.
>>
>>4793794
>spoiler
Moneyshotting into open wounds or scar tissue strikes me as a bad idea.
>Ceyla's purity
Miraluka are predisposed to being really close with other members of their race. Between that and them being a rare site outside of their homeworld, I'd think that hybrids are probably more uncommon.
>>
>>4793774
Indeed
>>
>>4793228
Something to add to the questions to ask: Did she meet with anyone else
>>
>>4793241
Main reason is coomers.

It can't hurt to have a Mandalorian contact in our network though. Might open up some pathways later down the line.
>>
>>4793228
>Did you see her ship? Or get an identification code?

Or something like that, i'm hungover rn so if an anon can expand/improve my question i'm all for it
>>
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>>4793240
>>4793241
>>4793250
>>4793530
>>4793586
>>4793632

>>What line of work did she work in, or at least assume she worked in?

“Bounty hunting, for the most part,” grunts Ingmar, “Among bodyguard work. You’d be surprised how often you’ve got privateers lurking in the neighboring systems en-route to the system. And only a handful of them were abolitionists!”

“With the most being?” you ask.

“Rival slavers. There’s a certain level of civility to be maintained the closer you get to Mylus, but out there in space…things get messy since the competition’s really fierce. So, the slavers’ll go and hire extra guns to keep both themselves and the merchandise safe in the event of a raid. ‘Two-Hands Nomi’ was a popular bodyguard to have. Deadly at a distance with her pair of six-shooters, and damn near invincible with that fancy armor of hers. Never seen anything like it.”

You'd be surprised if you did. “Do you know what kind of bounties she went after?”

“Almost entirely criminals. Which might be odd considering how laiseez faire the Tof legal code is, but the viceroy ran a pretty tight ship for efficacy’s sake, if nothing else. Merchant-captains that refused to pay their dues or withheld taxes, opportunistic blue-bloods plotting to try and wrest control, rival pirate syndicates, including strays or runaways from the Hutts and Black Stars…”

“It’s Black Sun,” you interrupt, frowning. The fact that those criminal organizations have off-shoots, limited as they are, in the Unknown Regions is concerning. Hopefully there hadn’t been any in the capital that saw you during the revolution. Or at least, any still alive that made it off-world. “Define ‘almost entirely.’”

The barkeep sighs. “One time, and only once, I saw Nomi take a contract to pick up an escaped slave and his family. Led her on a wild goose-chase beneath the starport, then out into the badlands. Damned bastard ended up driving himself and a transport’s worth of slaves into the nest of a Roque Ja rather than go back. Those things are already aggressive, but if you get within eye-sight of their young…”

He doesn’t need to finish. The image you have of the transport where you met Keimann, scarred from dozens of claw marks gouged deep into the hull, paint a grim enough image. Perhaps you might want to talk to Troxl and advise caution against being too gung-ho at trying to hunt the beasts of the savanna.

But you return to the topic at hand, which is to say Nomiana. “…how’d she take it? The, erm…failure to fulfil the bounty?”

“Not too bad,” he says lightly, “Although she took the week off and two bottles of my finest whiskey. Couldn’t tell if she was angry at not getting paid, or horrified at what the Roque Ja did to her marks.”

“No reason to be mutually exclusive,” you quip dryly.

(cont.)
>>
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>>When did you first meet her, and have you or anyone you met ever required her services?

“I first met her about five years ago, when she came into the Toffer on a job. It’d been smaller then, a third of what it is now. She had that helmet of hers on, and was silent as a grave as she scoped the room. Turns out, one of my customers was wanted for killing a Tof’s prized slave. I get wanting revenge, but that crusty old butler must’ve meant a whole lot to justify the price on his killer’s head.”

There’s a smart remark about Tof actually having feelings, but you don’t say it. And you direct a curt look towards the guards who would have done so. “What happened next?”

Ingarm snorts. “The idiot grabbed the twi’lek girl giving him a lap dance, and put a gun up to her head. Threatened to paint the Toffer with her brains if I didn’t let him out the back and keep Nomi occupied.”

“Threatened to kill an investment, eh?” You smile faintly. “I can’t imagine you taking that lightly.”

“I took exceptional offense,” he confirms, “The girl in question wasn’t helpless either, flexible enough to rear her leg back and drive her high heels into his groin. She broke his hold and hit the deck, letting me charge forward and exact my pound of flesh. Came close to beating him into mush, but Nomi stopped me. It’d be more profitable if she took him in alive.

“We ended up splitting the bounty three ways.” A wistful smile breaks across the barkeep’s face. “And what a prize it was! I got to expand the Toffer to its current state, Nomi got herself a reputation, and the girl, Yute, paid off her debt to me and got her freedom. Booked passage with some of Nomi’s coworkers to take her ‘somewhere she’d never be a slave’ again. I wonder if she’s doing alright; they never shared anything with me.”

Your hand stills at the mention of coworkers. But you’ll get to that in the next moment. “Did you or any of your friends ever need her services?”

Ingarm shrugs. “Sometimes. Mostly to scare off drunkards, or find folks who didn’t pay their tab. Nothing too serious. In exchange, I gave her a semi-permanent flat on the second floor. Dunno where the others lodged, but she made it a point to stay at the Toffer whenever she was planetside.”

>>Did she ever mention any clans or groups she was/is part of, Mandalorian or otherwise?

“Mandalorian, Mandalorian…” the barkeep tastes the word as if he was sipping a cocktail. “I did hear that word dropped a few times, though I don’t know much about them. Most of what I know about them are second-hand stories from pirates and travelers. But they’d certainly match Nomi to a T, barring the fact that she readily takes off her helmet.

“Nomi was tight-lipped about her personal life or professional career prior to Mylus, even after five years of odd friendship. If she's part of anything beyond her last name of Whrul, I wouldn't know. Sorry, Ren."

(cont.)
>>
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>>Has she ever brought other Mandalorians to the Tipsy Toffer, or anyone with similar interests or work experiences?

“Why, are you jealous?” But before you can offer a scathing retort, Ingarm holds up a hand. “A joke, Ren. I fear that if you grimace for too long, your face will get stuck. But to answer your question, yes, but never more than one at any given moment.”

“Why’s that?” you inquire.

“Couldn’t tell you. Maybe they had their private meetings elsewhere, but one of them would come in once in a while to speak with her.”

“Can you describe them? And how many of them were there?”

He nods, but hesitates. “Sure, but I can’t give you facial details or species. Nomi was the only one who took off her helmet in the Toffer. The other two didn’t. Still, they were good customers. Took their drinks intravenously through what they called a ‘triple-filtered emergency induction port.’

“So there’s Mukir, heavyset, older fellow with a voice modulated to hell and back with his helmet. Couldn’t tell you if he was human or not, but he was definitely in charge of their group. Everything went quiet whenever he came by the Toffer. The girls were scared of him, but I was more irritated with how he always killed the mood. Funny enough, Mukir was actually the one who took Yute off-world.

“Then you have a fellow called Urzu. Tall and lithe, sort of compact beneath the armor. Coin’s toss as to whether or not he’s human. He came more often than Mukir, and was soft-spoken to the point where he’d use hand signals more than words. The one time I saw him in action, he helped me put down a barfight that’d gotten out of control. Never saw cleaner bladework.”

Mukir and Urzu. You file those names away for later.

>>Did she mention where she was heading next, and if so, where?

“A few minutes before you came into the Toffer, Nomi said that the three of them were going on a sabbatical. Something to do with their religion, apparently, and she didn’t know when she’d be back. But I couldn’t tell you where it was. Mukir said that I’d have to be one of them to even entertain the thought of coming along.

“So, she was there for a final drink for the foreseeable future…” he pauses, then gives you an appraising glance. “And a hot date, it seems. I don't know what you said to impress her since I can count on one hand the number of guests in her room over the last five years.”

You cough perhaps just a tad bit too harshly. “You have nothing else? Descriptions of planets, itinerary…”

“If I did, you’d know them already.” He shrugs helplessly. “I knew them for five years, but they still kept me at arm’s length when it came to the pow-wow of their inner circle. When I last saw her, one of my girls was bringing her breakfast in bed and contraceptive tea. I was halfway out the door with my things for the Great Trade when I saw room service going up.”

(cont.)
>>
>>4795259
>contraceptive tea

So much for the advancements of science
>>
>>4795273
Hey, Tof are all about having really advanced gear that just looks like antiquated junk for their aesthetic. Why wouldn't they serve their medicines in tea?
>>
>>4795273
?

It was just two humans getting it on bro. The hell did you think was gonna pop out, a rancor?
>>
>>4795289
It would be advantageous to have a Mando trained as a Jedi
>>
>>4795273
Ingmar said that he only saw the tea going up. Didn't mention anything about seeing her actually drink it. :^)
>>
>>4795313
Dammit Kaz.
>>
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>>4795259
Ceyla’s at her reddest yet, utterly scandalized. Hopefully between this and the cultural SNAFU at the market, you haven’t burned all your credibility as a Jedi Knight. “How…considerate of you,” you tell Ingmar.

The barkeep shrugs. “It’s a dangerous life she leads. Least I could do is give her a final luxury and safety net. Pregnant women do not make for effective combatants on the front lines, especially in this part of the galaxy.”

No, they really don’t. “And what about Mukir and Urzu?”

“I hadn’t seen them in weeks. I can only assume that they got off-planet during the clusterfuck of the uprising.”

There’s something about her sabbatical doesn’t sit right in your gut. Your mind drifts back to the night prior to the uprising, in the aftermath of the dance and prelude to her room.

“Neither of us can go home anymore, can we?”

“No…no, we can’t.”


The Jedi Wanderer cannot return to his temple because it is a smoking wreck. The haunts of his childhood are crawling with agents of the Dark Side, plundering and defiling the relics of his order. Much of his extended family lies dead across the galaxy, shot by their own soldiers or otherwise faceless corpses on a funeral pyre. His fate is to remain hidden to the galaxy at large, lurking in the Shadows for the opportune moment to strike at the Sith.

Why is it that the Mandalorain can’t return home? The timeline wouldn’t match up for exiles or remnants of the Death Watch. But that all assumes that their people’s ancestral homeworld is where she hails from. An independent cadre or forgotten colony in deep space? There are too many possibilities and very little evidence to support anything.

“Did you ever get the impression that Nomiana or her companions were…” you wave your hand vaguely. “Running away from anything?”

Ingmar thinks about it for a good, long moment. “…I mean, they were always jumpy, but I just chalked that up to them being hyper-vigilant. But if they were running from something, it wouldn’t make sense for Nomi to make a name for herself, or otherwise walk around without a helmet. And that’s not even taking into account staying close to Mylus for five years.”

“Nomiana” might not even be her real name, for all you know. But you don’t think she lied when she gave her name on the dancefloor. Still, something to consider for future ponderance.

>>Tangentially related, but have you ever heard rumors of a mercenary or bounty hunter type who wields a length of chain and a machete-like sword?

He inhales sharply, and even the guards visibly tense. “You’re asking about the Blazing Chain.”

“Blazing Chain?” All eyes turn to your apprentice as she blurted out the question. Ceyla initially shies away at the intensity of the gazes, but she finds her footing easily enough. “The man Luaine and I fought on the Chiller…he wielded a a chain, a sword and the Dark Side of the Force.”

(cont.)
>>
>>4795307
Why? There is nothing special about Mandos today. All you need to do is raise kids with mando mindset and jedi training and you get the exact same thing.
>>
>>4795289
Dude, in the 21st century we have pills for that job. As well as a variety of non-invasive "attachments". Contraceptive tea is like, medieval tier.
>>
>>4795344
Aren't the Mando mindset and Jedi ethos mutually exclusive?
>>
>>4795354
Okay? Why don't you just put your pill into some tea? It makes no difference how you take it.

>>4795356
I'm not a philosopher. I have no idea. Probably. But Jedi training isn't the same as Jedi indoctrination.
>>
>>4795344
Switch that, with the bendability of Jedi Shadow training, Ruthlessness of Mando training, and a watered down version of the Jedi mindest, can create an absolute monstrosity of power. Only if we raise it right.
>>
>>4795363
>just put your pill into tea

Pills do not work that way, anon, unless they're specifically noted to be water soluble.
>>
>>4795368
>can create an absolute monstrosity of power
I don't see how but alright.
>>
>>4795374
>he can figure out how to make pills but he can't figure out how to put the pill into a drink
What advanced science you have.
>>
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>>4795340
>You’re asking about the Blazing Chain
FUCK YEAH FORCE PIRATES
>>
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>>4795340
Ingarm regards Ceyla with nothing short of amazement. “Then you’re lucky to be alive. They aren’t known for showing mercy to their enemies.”

“I’m sorry,” you cut in with a frown. “The Blazing Chain?”

The Tof is at his most serious yet. His mouth is set in a thin, grim line as he elaborates, “A group of pirates that once preyed on our section of space, or what your coreward maps might call the ‘Unknown Regions.’ At their peak, they operated a dozen fleets, each filled with warships from corvettes all the way up to dreadnaught-sized behemoths.”

“You’re forgetting what makes them dangerous,” the warden says, a pained expression on his face. “Those damned bastards had hundreds of Force-sensitives in their ranks. One second, you’re just ship security, barricading the airlock and prepping for a boarding action. All it takes is a moment for your barricade to be blown back with a kinetic wave, and a chain tearing the weapon out of your hand.”

He tugs at his uniform’s collar, revealing an ugly patch of scars around the arkanian’s throat. There’s the familiar chaffing indicative a slaver’s explosive choker, but there’s something else among them. Old and faded, but definitely there: a series of angry, repeating bands as he’d been garroted by manacles. “That’s how they got the ship I was on nearly twenty years ago. Thousands of my kind on a colony ship, sold to the Tof or kept as slaves for their fleet.”

Ceyla’s hand flies to her mouth in a horrified expression, and a shiver runs up and down the length of your spine. “This is the first time I’d ever heard of such an organization! There was never anything in the Jedi Archives to suggest-”

“Don’t take this the wrong way, Jedi,” the warden cuts you off, “But the reach and knowledge of the Republic Jedi doesn’t exactly reach all the way here.”

Ingarm looks like he might say something, opening his mouth before shutting it in thought. Then, he offers, “If it makes you feel any better, they haven’t been active for the better part of…nine years, actually. There’s always been tension among the fleets, and it boiled over to a five-year civil war. They were too busy fighting among themselves to sell us slaves or raid the trade routes.”

You wipe sweat off your forehead that you didn’t know you had. “What caused their civil war?”

The warden spits venomously, “One of their adacaps, their word for a leader or admiral of a fleet, got it in his head to crown himself Great Khanu. Zonsoe of the Blackshackle Fleet called a summit and demanded the others to bend the knee. Adacap Tybalt of Arcblade Fleet refused, and Zonsoe conjured lightning to turn him into a pile of ash. Blackshakle went on to exterminate damned near the entirety of Arcblade. Of the tens of thousands, there were less than a hundred Arcblade survivors scattered across the sector.”

(cont.)
>>
>>4795313
>spoiler
You stop that.
>>
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>>4795415
>The Storyteller has history with Larid
>Their apprentices need to fight under specific conditions
>Farren's been warned to watch out for the Corsairs of the Sapphire Star
>Ceyla's now on the radar of an unknown Force pirate
How deep does this rabbit hole go? Did the Storyteller manipulate us into choosing Ceyla? Did he manipulate an entire space armada into a civil war in order to set up a single fight on a frozen wasteland? Did he set up us talking to Ingarm so we'll go after the Corsairs? Fuck, maybe he even set things up so Larid was manipulated into choosing Farren as an apprentice, who knows?
>>
>>4795415
I don't think we can pretend we're not a jedi after Ceyla's outburst
>>
>>4795620

I mean, there's no specific reason we have to conceal our Jedi status from Ingmar, and the entire rest of the planet already knows.
>>
>>4795415
Dread pools in the pit of your stomach. And the ashen expression on your face is mirrored on Ceyla’s. To conjure lightning is a power reserved only for those wholly seeped in the Dark Side of the Force. The Revenant had it when she fought you in the Galleria, but you expect it of her due to the Sith in her head. But for this Great Khanu, an entity not belonging to either the Jedi or the Sith, to reach such power independently is an incredibly sobering thought.

You motion for your padawan to calm herself, even as it takes you a moment to regain your composure. “So what happened to this…Zonsoe?”

The warden’s smile is grim. “His hairbrained stunt threw the entire franchise against him. Blackshackle stood alone against the ten fleets, and as well as the mercenaries they assembled. Zonsoe’s enemies had numerical superiority by a long shot, but the Great Khanu had the edge in powerful ships and Force-adepts. An entire sector burned as they killed and bled each other.

“The reason it took five bloody years was that they were using their own tactics against each other: hit-and-run. Blackshackle started to feel the attrition sooner, so Zonsoe forced a decisive battle in the gravity well of a binary star. A crack team of mercenaries and Blazing Chain adepts infiltrated his flagship, the super dreadnought Temujin. Just as it seemed that the allied fleets were about to capitulate, the Temujin’s main reactors exploded. Took out a significant chunk of the survivors as well, but everyone was too happy to care since it killed Zosen as well.”

Digesting that, you turn to Ingmar. “And where were the Tof during all of this?”

He shrugs. “We remained neutral. The war was an opportunity to weaken the Blazing Chain. Regardless of who won, our forces would be fresh and ready for a fight if anyone came knocking.”

Fair enough. “And ever since then, the Chain hasn’t troubled you?”

“Not really, no,” answers the barkeep. “There’s the odd vessel that came in and traded slaves and supplies, but they were too bloodied to stir up the pot. They lost hundreds of ships, on top of an entire generation of warriors. We figured that they’d gone to ground. It’d take them decades for them to even come close to half of their combined strength.”

The arkanian offers a solemn nod, before turning his gaze to Ceyla. “Loathe as I am to agree with this creature, he’s right. If the chain adept wanted you dead, then you wouldn’t be here now. No offense,” he adds as you shoot him a heated glare.

Your padawan frowns. “He…wasn’t fighting to kill us. He said that we were worthy, and that ‘the chain will be greatly strengthened.’”

A pained expression crosses the warden’s face. “Ah. Well, in that regard…there’s no easy way for me to say this. But they boast that eighty percent of their members are some degree of Force-sensitive."

"What does this have to do with my padawan?" you demand.

(cont.)
>>
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But you already know the answer.

“They want your girl to join them,” Ingmar says, almost low enough to be a growl. “I don’t gamble, but I’d bet the deed to the Toffer that the adept she fought was a scout of some kind. Testing the waters and getting a feel for the current environment…looking for potential candidates to replenish their ranks and get back up to their precious eighty percent.”

“That’s ridiculous,” Ceyla snaps, brow furrowed into a severe frown. “I’m already committed as a Jedi! Even if he asked nicely and didn’t strangle Vuqu, I’d still say no in a heartbeat.”

“But that’s the problem, child,” the warden says, exhaling heavily. “The Blazing Chain rarely extends invitations. And a problem with both their men and women is that they have a hard time taking ‘no’ for an answer. Just as they’ll raid poorly defended settlements for slaves to sell or use for labor, they’ll…use their prisoners as a means to keep their gene pool from going stagnant, especially since they include dozens of species in their ranks. And with your Force-sensitivity, you’re too valuable of a prize-”

A pindrop might have sounded like a world-ending explosion in the silence that followed. The arkanian doesn’t need to finish his sentence before the blood drains out of your apprentice’s face. Ingarm and the guards jump as the overhead lights and table begin to flicker and tremble. As it is, you curl your hand into a tight, white-knuckled fist to keep your mounting, boiling temper from spilling out of control.

It isn’t just Ceyla that the Blazing Chain would be after. They’d be after all of the Younglings, both the boys and girls, even yourself if they think they could take you. It seems that even in the Unknown Regions, there would be proactive hunters of Jedi.

But worst is the Dark Side of the Force, lurking at the threshold. It conjures an image, whispering in your mind a horrible vision of the pirates discovering the carbonite slab containing Kristen…

...and how to prevent such a future from happening. But only if you listen.

“…Master Farren?” Ceyla’s voice calls you out of your thoughts. Visibly green, it seems that she’s made the realization that the encounter on the Chiller could have gone very differently. “…I think…I’m gonna be sick…”

And to think it’s only her first day as a padawan.

>>What words of comfort do you have to offer Ceyla?
>“He let you go, which means that he’d rather persuade you than use force to get you to join.” [Reason]
>“Then as Shadows, you and I will have to destroy them before they can hurt anyone ever again.” [Duty]
>"Well, we do have potential safe-houses that're very far away from the Unknown Regions." [Assure]
>“You’ll get nothing short of the best training so you won’t have to worry about those scum.” [Solemn]
>Custom option. [Write-in]

[VOTE OPEN FOR NINE HOURS]
>>
>>4796171
>>“You’ll get nothing short of the best training so you won’t have to worry about those scum.” [Solemn]
>>
>>4796171
>“Then as....*cough*....Warriors, you and I will have to destroy them before they can hurt anyone ever again.” [Duty]
>>
>>4796171
I'm with
>>4796180
Definitely [Duty], but no need to go around shouting "I'm a professional spy and saboteur!" around open ears.
>>
>>4796171
>" Then as Shadows, you and I will have to destroy them before they can hurt anyone ever again.” [Duty]
>>
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=Ab943UeSGPs&list=PLqGhVyOFc2J3Lt23F5b8RctjHYDwxx_QN&index=33

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=j1pf6s8MGrs&list=PLeigbpMXUkYlKcypDJRIUDuyz2HtGGEk0&index=3

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=JQ5LpKGGLDk

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=IKXrzTmug_E

What kind of OST would be ideal for this?
Prequel OST leaning toward Original OST with a dash of KoTOR thrown in? A few samples added.
>>
>>4796171
>“Then as Shadows, you and I will have to destroy them before they can hurt anyone ever again.” [Duty]

>>4796224
What I mean to ask is what song is playing in your head as you read this?
>>
>>4796171
>You’ll get nothing short of the best training so you won’t have to worry about those scum.” [Solemn]
>>
>>4796171
>>“Then as Shadows, you and I will have to destroy them before they can hurt anyone ever again.” [Duty]
>>
>>4796171
>“Then as Jedi, you and I will have to destroy them before they can hurt anyone ever again.” [Duty]
>>
>>4796224
I appreciate the inclusion of samuel kim anon
>>
>>4796171

>>“You’ll get nothing short of the best training so you won’t have to worry about those scum.” [Solemn]

I really, really want to promise her that we'll go out there and start taking heads as soon as possible so that nobody will ever have to suffer that way ever again, but with how much we have on our plane already I'm afraid that might not be in the cards for us.
>>
>>4796190
Nobody knows what Shadows means. Heck, even most actual Jedi have never heard of Jedi Shadows or consider them to be little more than a myth.
>>
>>4796171
>“Then as Shadows, you and I will have to destroy them before they can hurt anyone ever again.” [Duty]
>>
>>4796171
>>“Then as Shadows, you and I will have to destroy them before they can hurt anyone ever again.” [Duty]
>>
>>4796171
>>“You’ll get nothing short of the best training so you won’t have to worry about those scum.” [Solemn]
>>
>>4796171
>“You’ll get nothing short of the best training so you won’t have to worry about those scum.” [Solemn]
We're not exactly free to go galavanting as we please at the moment.
>>
>“You’ll get nothing short of the best training so you won’t have to worry about those scum.” [Solemn]
>>
>>4796171
>>“Then as Shadows, you and I will have to destroy them before they can hurt anyone ever again.” [Duty]
>>
>>4796171
>>“Then as Shadows, you and I will have to destroy them before they can hurt anyone ever again.” [Duty]
>>
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Okay, I'm taking the day off for my birthday. I don't have an interlude queued up, but I'll resolve this dialogue with Ceyla tomorrow and do crew introductions. From there, it's confronting Larid about the Storyteller/Revenant and then deciding a next course of action for both the Jedi and the crew of the Albatross.

Not a vote now, but some examples of what you wanna do would be along the lines of...picking a planet on Alleana or even Larid's planetary list to go investigate, try to find a more permanent place to establish a Jedi safe house, sneak back into Empire territory for side missions, help out Keimann and the MSDF with their Tof War, etc.

And come to think about it, beyond an increase in Force Rating, getting Mystic Weapon, and the Kakerox Crystals, I forgot to give you guys a new skill or offer the chance to upgrade a current one in the aftermath of Kakarit. I'll put it to a vote later today.
>>
>>4797006
Happy round around the Sun day, Kaz!
>>
>>4797006
Happy Birthday Kaz!

On topic though, we should really start to make preparations to leave now we've got an active force hunting us (Empire doesn't really count since they're everywhere anyway)
>>
>>4797006
Congrats on having lived another year on this planet, Kaz.
>>
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>>4797006
Have a Crunch n Munch for your BD.
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>>4788445
>Star wars quest
>Jedi protag
fuck
>>
>>4797006
Happy birthday Kaz! Hope it's a good one!
>>4797250
There was a bangin' clone one, but the QM was hit by a truck or something. Said he'd make a new thread during the weekend and never did.
>>
Posting so it's all in one place
Larid's List of Not-That-Safe Places:
>Dantooine, a key battlefront planet, it was heavily contested until the Seperatists were driven back and the Clones departed to the next planet to reinforce and bolster. A lush temperate planet, it holds the ruins of a Jedi Stronghold from the time of the Great Galactic War, and hopefully a small garrison of Clones. [Moderate Danger]
>Dweem, the secret home world of the Iron Knights, a censured sect of the Jedi Order comprised of Force-Sensitive, silicon-based Shards that inhabit the bodies of droids. They took great offense to the Council denigrating them as “heretical forms of life" and chose self-exile with the Jedi that trained them. [Low Danger]
>Ossus, a minor battlefront planet in the Outer Rim, and relic planet known for its extensive Jedi history and extensive archeological sites. With so much public knowledge of its Jedi History, you would need an extremely good reason to visit given its importance to both Sith and Jedi. [High Danger].
>Tython, the mythical homeworld of the Je’daii Order, the ancient precursors to the contemporary Jedi Order. Its location was lost to both the Jedi and the Sith during the Great Galactic War, but its proximity in the Deep Core makes for a perilous and dangerous journey. [EXTREME Danger]
Alleana's List of Much Safer Places:
>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.
>O’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.
>>
>>4797006
Happy birthday!

For myself, i'd like to focus mostly on training our padawan and the padawan-master relationship we're fostering.
But in the sense of what kind of missions i'd like to do it would either be recovering and uniting more Jedi or establishing a more permanent and covert base of operations
>>
>>4797293
>Dantooine
Probably neat shit in the temple ruins, we didn't (for some reason) take the holocron with the Seer Jedi on it for Ceyla so a substitute would be nice. 4 Jedi and a rebel cell/anti-imperial refugees.
>Dweem
Real out of the way place, a good spot for a more permanent hideout. We also might find a Shard that wants to inhabit our tactical droid butler. 1 organic Jedi, 13-ish Iron Knights, and information on the Altisian Jedi.
>Ossus
Another place with neat shit in temple ruins, probably more so than Dantooine. Also OOD FUCNKING BNAR is there taking a millennia-long nap. 1 bitchin' tree Jedi and a box of antique lightsabers.
>Tython
Big wildcard option. Best from the standpoint of scavenging for neat shit, worst from the point of physically getting there. The system as a whole is worth really thouroughly checking out. Tython in particular is now home to an ancient Sith fortress built by a mad sith technomage. Flesh Raiders, Sith technobeasts, and the mother of all mystery boxes.
>Arkinnea
Another good world to set up shop on more permanently. Has an angry, paranoid militia, but that's peanuts compared to the force entities, dark Jedi, and gestald conciousnesses we've tangled with thus far. 1 unkillable stylish Jedi and a clansworth of younglings.
>Bracca
No. At least not yet.
>Dagobah
We get to see granddad and we get to have our obligatory Dark Side Cave encounter. Nuff said.
>O'haon
Not a great place to take our padawan to right off the bat, because we only know one thing about it and that thing is that it's sithy. Not totally irredeemable though, it's in the Tingel Arm which gets us abaout as close as Star Wars can get to cyberpunk. Corporate Sector Gang.
>Uliea
We're gonna catch flack from the Masters for looking into our past like a bad Jedi. Another candidate for a safehouse. Might even meet our biological father.
>>
>>4797293
Dweem sounds like a good place to take Ceyla. Even if they don't join us, it might be good for them to get an update on the galatic news.
>>
>>4797524
I think Dweem, Dantooine, Dagobah, or Arkinnea are good starting points for her training. Tython, Ossus, U'Haon, and Uliea are places we'd (probably) be able to handle, but she'd suffer from the power gap. Everything else is intermediate.
>>
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Thank you to everyone who wished me happy birthday. Had myself a grand old time. Now, without further ado…

[PATCH NOTES]

>>Traits section is now renamed to Traits/Talents.
>>Additional trait [Aberration Bane] was forgotten in the trait section of Farren’s sheet. [Aberration Bane] grants +1d9 made to rolls against Force Entities.
>>Force Pull/Push 1 should be Force Pull/Push 2, and is now reworded to Force Move 2.
>>Sith is reworded to Knowledge [Sith].
>>Lore is reworded to Knowledge [Lore]
>>Force Entities is reworded to Knowledge [Force Entities]

[END OF PATCH NOTES]

>>Please choose two(2) skills to either acquire or upgrade:
>Charm 1 (Panache) – used to persuade through things like flattery, appealing to a target’s good side, and outright seduction.
>Coordination 2 (Finesse) – a character’s balance and flexibility, used to reduce fall damage, balance on narrow surfaces, and escaping restraints.
>Discipline 1 (Resolve) – used to maintain composure and mental acuity during stress, and see through lies and resist temptation, supernatural or otherwise.
>Deception 2 (Cunning) – used when a character tries to deceive another, bluff or confuse an opponent, or throw pursuers off a trail.
>Knowledge [Underworld] 1 (Intellect) – a measure of familiarity and knowledge of the criminal activities on any given world, and of the major crime syndicates across the galaxy.
>Negotiation 1 (Panache) – used to when making deals through social means, from buying and selling goods to creating contracts and pacts.
>Resilience 1 (Brawn) – a measure of physical conditioning, made when fighting sleep deprivation, enduring a hostile environment, and staving off dehydration, malnutrition and even poison.

>>Please select one(1) Talent/Trait to acquire:
>Now You See Me [Active] – once per day, make a Deception check. NPCs equal to the Shadow’s Cunning + Force Rating forget any interactions they had with the Shadow for the last thirty minutes. Those affected suffer from varying degrees of disorientation.
>Reciprocal Learning [Passive] – a Jedi never stops learning, even when they attain Knighthood and take a padawan under their wing. This talent lowers the DC made for a padawan and their master to learn or impart skills from each other.
>Sense Emotions [Passive] – add +3 to all Charm, Coercion and Deception checks unless the target is immune to Force powers (i.e. droids). Differs from the [Sense] Force Power in that Sense Emotions is more for reading general vibes/moods as opposed to actually perceiving surface thoughts.

>>Please structure your votes as the following:
>Skill 1.
>Skill 2.
>Talent/Trait X.

[VOTE OPEN FOR EIGHT HOURS
>>
>>4798507
>Skill 1. >Knowledge [Underworld] 1 (Intellect) – a measure of familiarity and knowledge of the criminal activities on any given world, and of the major crime syndicates across the galaxy.
>Skill 2. >Negotiation 1 (Panache) – used to when making deals through social means, from buying and selling goods to creating contracts and pacts.
>Talent/Trait >Sense Emotions [Passive] – add +3 to all Charm, Coercion and Deception checks unless the target is immune to Force powers (i.e. droids). Differs from the [Sense] Force Power in that Sense Emotions is more for reading general vibes/moods as opposed to actually perceiving surface thoughts.
>>
>>4798507
>Coordination 2
>Resilience 1
>Reciprocal Learning
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>>4798507
>Charm 1 (Panache) – used to persuade through things like flattery, appealing to a target’s good side, and outright seduction.
>Negotiation 1 (Panache) – used to when making deals through social means, from buying and selling goods to creating contracts and pacts.
>Reciprocal Learning [Passive] – a Jedi never stops learning, even when they attain Knighthood and take a padawan under their wing. This talent lowers the DC made for a padawan and their master to learn or impart skills from each other.

Also, are the skills listed showing the rank we HAVE or the rank we'll GET? Because I thought we already got Deception 2 from Kreia. I only ask because you mentioned to choose to skills to "acquire" or upgrade, and I didn't see any skills that were showing level 0 to indicate we'd be *gaining* them.
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>>4798555
FFG Dice are weird in that you can still make a check without putting ranks into it. Such as the Charm check earlier this session. By default, all of your skills would be ranked “0”, and the only bonus you’d get is provided by attribute. Just because Farren doesn’t have any ranks in Charm doesn’t mean he can’t try to attempt to appeal to someone’s better nature. Just more difficult.

I only marked down skills that have ranks in them so I don’t clutter up the character sheet.
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>>4798555
Ack, and you’re right. I completely forgot about Kreia giving you the extra rank in Deception. That should then be Deception 3, not 2, as an option to take. That’s my bad.
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>>4798507
>>Discipline 1 (Resolve)
>>Negotiation 1 (Panache)
>>Reciprocal Learning [Passive]
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>>4798507
>Charm 1 (Panache)
>Resilience 1 (Brawn)
>Reciprocal Learning [Passive]
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>>4798507
>Discipline 1
>Negotiation 1
>Reciprocal Learning [Passive]
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>>4798507
>>Discipline 1 (Resolve) – used to maintain composure and mental acuity during stress, and see through lies and resist temptation, supernatural or otherwise.
>>Deception 2 (Cunning) – used when a character tries to deceive another, bluff or confuse an opponent, or throw pursuers off a trail.
>>Reciprocal Learning [Passive] – a Jedi never stops learning, even when they attain Knighthood and take a padawan under their wing. This talent lowers the DC made for a padawan and their master to learn or impart skills from each other.
>>
>>4798507
>Knowledge [Underworld] 1
>Negotiation 1 (Panache)
>Reciprocal Learning [Passive]
>>
>Discipline
>Underworld
>Reciprocal Learning
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>>4798507
>coordination
To further amplify our skill, i feel like going tall is better than going wide, generally speaking.

>discipline
It just seems so essential and useful for whatever our next adventure will be, wheter confronting force wielders or intimidating pirates.

>Reciprocal Learning
I mean come on, is there really any other option?
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>>4798963
>I mean come on, is there really any other option?
Yes. Two in fact.
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>>4798507
>>Resilience 1 (Brawn) – a measure of physical conditioning, made when fighting sleep deprivation, enduring a hostile environment, and staving off dehydration, malnutrition and even poison.
>Discipline 1 (Resolve) – used to maintain composure and mental acuity during stress, and see through lies and resist temptation, supernatural or otherwise.
>Sense Emotions [Passive] – add +3 to all Charm, Coercion and Deception checks unless the target is immune to Force powers (i.e. droids). Differs from the [Sense] Force Power in that Sense Emotions is more for reading general vibes/moods as opposed to actually perceiving surface thoughts.
>>
>>4798507
>Charm 1 (Panache) – used to persuade through things like flattery, appealing to a target’s good side, and outright seduction.
>Discipline 1 (Resolve) – used to maintain composure and mental acuity during stress, and see through lies and resist temptation, supernatural or otherwise.

>Sense Emotions [Passive] – add +3 to all Charm, Coercion and Deception checks unless the target is immune to Force powers (i.e. droids). Differs from the [Sense] Force Power in that Sense Emotions is more for reading general vibes/moods as opposed to actually perceiving surface thoughts.
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>>4798507
>>Discipline 1 (Resolve)
>>>Resilience 1 (Brawn)
>>Reciprocal Learning [Passive]

Seems like the best of what we've learned from eldritch "nam" (where the trees speak and it aknt vietnamese)
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>>4799613
>Reciprocal Learning
>Our experience from eldritch nam
>"Alright Ceyla so if we run into talking trees and you start getting thoughts about eating some weird fruits, there's a massive flame thrower in the back of the Bantha that we have stored as a precaution. However, in case you find yourself out of range of said flame thrower, try and get your hands on some styrofoam and gasoline, which I will be showing you how to properly use in this lesson to make your very own homemade napalm! Hm? What tannerite? Oooooh THAT tannerite! Haha! That's next lesson...
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>>4799693
>Ceyla, I need you to listen closely to what I'm about to tell you because it just might be the most important thing I've learned in my entire career as a Shadow. You know your cloak? Your second most important possession next to your lightsaber? If it ever, EVER gets fecal matter on it, Togruta or otherwise, DO NOT MACHINE WASH IT. You've gotta let it soak in cold water and then dab lemon juice on the stains with Nabooian cotton swabs. Once that's done, cover it in baking soda and let it sit, then wash it again. Look at mine, you can't even tell I used it to keep someone warm while they jetissoned their lower GI tract, no evidence whatsoever. Like magic. Who? That doesn't matter, now get back to working on you analysis of the Pius Dea Crusades and how the Order was COMPLETELY JUSTIFIED in their actions. I want it on my desk in a week.
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>>4788631
No longer a WIP, their art is finally finished!
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>>4799831
Oh god. Oh no. Dear lord why.
She's cute.
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>>4799831
Awesome!


Also i am simping for this new waifu
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>>4799831
Look at that smug fucking sith. Nice.
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>>4799831
Hmmm. I wonder if he likes earl grey.
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>>4799958
Some poor idiot is gonna try putting the schmooves on Revenant-chan and I sure as hell hope its not going to be us
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>>4800287
After we have learned that our teacher may in fact be related to the revenant I fucking PRAY that we can try to keep it in our pants. I feel if we don't we aren't going to even see him obliterate us using whatever forbidden force/ lightsaber techniques he's developed while studying these sith artifacts... Or heaven forbid, one of his contingency plans
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>>4799831
The lady in this pic is dead, right? I don't quite remember.
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>>4800778
Fell off a walkway and disappeared. So no, not in the slightest.
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>>4798507
>Coordination 2 (Finesse)

This probably won't come up all that often and our good Finesse rating already covers it, but I can't help being a DEXfag at heart.

>Negotiation 1 (Panache)
Self-explanatory. People skills are more important now, with the Jedi power base shattered, than ever before.

>Reciprocal Learning (passive)

All 3 of the new Talents look cool, but this one helps Ceyla as well as ourselves. Looking after our Padawan is our solemn duty.
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>>4799831
I submitted this to rule 34 just so you know.
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>>4799613

>Discipline 1
>Negotiation 1
>Reciprocal Learning

You place a hand on Ceyla’s shoulder. She flinches at the sudden contact, but you squeeze lightly to ground her thoughts. “Then as Shadows, you and I will have to destroy them before they can hurt anyone ever again. It’s as simple as that.”

“…is that a promise?” The blood’s returned and her brow contorts into a scowl. She isn’t fishing for reassurance as much as expressing desire to go after the Blazing Chain.

“There’s still a few things we have to do,” you admit, “Just to get the rest of the Order onto their feet. But even if the Chain wasn’t going out of their way to hunt us, we’d be sure as hell going after them. Someone doesn’t necessarily have to possess yellow eyes, red lightsabers or Sith paraphernalia to be the kind of targets we hunt, let alone the Jedi as a whole.”

But as far as everyone’s concerned, the interview with Ingmar is relatively over. Between the barkeep and the warden, they share what little they know of the Blazing Chain. Fleet names have remained relatively consistent, but the identities of Adacaps are not so easily confirmed. Nine years is a long time for anything to change. You write down names, note statistics, record interpersonal relationships and fleet politics…

>>Notable Fleets of the Blazing Chain:
>Arcblade – formerly led by Adacap Tybalt, Arcblade was neigh exterminated in the civil war and scattered to the corners of the Unknown Regions.
>Blackshackle – after the death of Great Khanu Zonsen, Blackshackle has been split into two factions: renegades loyal to Zonsen, and loyalists to the Chain.
>Dreadbones – known best for her brutality and bloodthirsty persona, Adacap Uruvi commanded both fear and respect from enemies and allies alike.
>Grimlight – worshipers of an entity known as Void, Adacap Rast and his fleet are as secretive as they are faithful to their god in the black hole.
>Kryatspeak – an oddity among the Twelve in that Adacap Zamarl seldom raided, instead leading his fleet as mercenaries across the Unknown Regions.
>Lonemarch – noted for its small-yet-capable populace, Adacap Badue values meritocracy and quality over bloating his fleet with incapable dregs and flotsam.
>Novagleam – sustaining severe casualties in the civil war, Adacap Avori and her fleet are the Chain’s most prolific raiders in the Unknown Regions.
>Starsong – obsessed with breeding lineages of Force-sensitives, Adacap Karling suffered a scandal when his firstborn lacked any talent in the Force.
>Warchain – with his father’s death in the civil war, Adacap Xui took his fleet and disappeared in order to recover and recuperate in relative privacy.

Once finished, Ingmar shifts uncertainly in his seat. “I have fulfilled my end of the bargain, Ren. Now, if you would…”

(cont.)
>>
You there Kaz?
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>>4802411
>Grimlight – worshipers of an entity known as Void, Adacap Rast and his fleet are as secretive as they are faithful to their god in the black hole.

Oh boy.
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>>4802844
Farren is gonna be the galaxy's foremost expert at fighting force entities by the time the quest ends. Hope we last until Abeloth, she won't stand a chance.
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>>4802947
>Palpatine just leaves us alone because we deal with shit even he doesn't want to deal with
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>>4802989
If he ever kills us, we got to dump all of our unfinished Force Entities stuff on him, just to distract him from focusing on the Rebellion.
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>>4802989
>Hi there, Farren's Force Entity Exterminators, who am I speaking with?
>Ah hey again Sheev! How's running an empire going?
>Ah I see, Jombarral coming back on another backwater?
>Oooh yeah, that sounds bad.
>Alrighty then, I'll head right on over to the colony and take a look around when I get the chance.
>I know it's urgent but I've heard some bad news about some people worshipping a black hole, something about a god... Yeah you get it.
>Yeah, I'll shoot you a call if we need another BDZ for this one, alright?
>Alrighty, be seeing you Sheev. Yep. Bye bye now.
>>
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>>4802411
You snort softly, pushing the dataslate in his general direction. “I didn’t add any fine print. So don’t take too long.”

He does. The barkeep triple-checks everything, even though you listed the terms of his re-negotiated prison sentence in bullet points. No loopholes, no wiggle-room for anything more or less than what he deserves. Which is a far better deal than the rest of the Tof prisoners can say.

“…looks good,” he eventually says, drumming his fingers on the table. “But in this clause for my freedom, could we make a slight amendment?”

“And what would that be?” you ask, idly noting the scowl on the guards’ faces.

His eyes meet yours. “Give me back the Toffer first. It might sound odd to you, Ren, but I just want my bar back, above all else. I’ll serve drinks (maybe women if they’ll let me, and only consenting ones at that) and the M.S.D.F. can garnish my wages however much they want.”

Your gaze flickers to the warden, then Ceyla, finally landing back on the barkeep. “…I’ll make a recommendation.”

With the paperwork finalized and your notes tucked away, you thank Ingmar for his time, and the guards’ cooperation. The Tof is still the same slovenly mess, but there’s a pep in his step that hadn’t been there before. And in spite of your misgivings about his species as a whole, you can’t help but hope that he won’t squander his chance at parole.

>>Summary of Interrogation:
>Nomiana Whrul is accompanied by two other Mandalorians, the heavyset and intimidating Mukir, and the soft-spoken but deadly Urzu. Species for both unknown.
>They spent the last five years on Mylar-3/Amagi, taking odd jobs as bodyguards and escorts for the Tof and other slaver merchants.
>They own a gunship affectionately named ‘Tracinya’.
>They are currently on sabbatical for their religion, but are expected to return after a ‘long while’.

>>Later, Albatross Drydock

“So how was your first day as a Jedi Shadow?”

Ceyla chews on her lip, adopting a pensive gait. The two of you enjoyed a silence on the walk back, not awkward as much as introspective. What had turned for inquiring after a wayward Mandaorian turned into something else entirely. A new threat, and the revelation that the Jedi might not be as safe as they thought they might be in the Unknown Regions.

“…enlightening,” she eventually says. “Are all conversations expected to go like that?”

“I wish.” Approaching the ship, you hit a switch on its underside, and the ramp comes down on command. “More often than not, you’ll have a gun drawn and pointed at your head. Metaphorically or otherwise.”

“Mnh.” At the end of the ramp, the turbolift awaits, whisking you up into the upper deck of the ship upon your entry. “I felt a little bit like a Consular, actually. Especially with re-negotiating Ingmar’s terms of imprisonment.”

(cont.)
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>>4803218
>I felt a little bit like a Consular, actually. Especially with re-negotiating Ingmar’s terms of imprisonment.
TIME TO START WAXING ON ABOUT TREE NAM
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>>4803218
“Fair enough, but you won’t find me outlining treaties, developing economic plans or dictating a legal code of law. Consulars like Master Aure are good at planning and outlining for the long term, seeing months or even years ahead. Shadows focus more on an immediate cause-and-effect, and snap decisions that you might only have seconds to make.”

Your padawan nods her head. “I think I get it. It isn’t too different from combat, then.”

“Correct. And I’ll be giving you a few case studies to look over.” The events of your own Trial of Spirit come to mind. You smile, then wonder if her sight allows her to perceive expressions. But from the way she relaxes, you determine that she saw your smile. “You seem to learn well from practical lessons.”

She flushes at the praise, tapping her boot against the flooring in embarrassment. “W-well, it certainly helps to see things first-hand and experience them for myself. Now I know what not to say to certain alien species…”

Ouch. She has you there, even if it doesn’t come across as an insult. But bygones are bygones, and the lift opens to the upper deck as the discussion comes to an end. And it is a happy circumstance that you can hear your crew just up ahead in the mess.

“C’mon.” Exiting the lift, you motion for her to follow you. “Time to meet the crew. And, ah…don’t get too nervous when you see B-33.”

Ceyla’s head tilts in confusion. “B-33?”

“You’ll see…”

The room doesn’t exactly go silent as you enter. Suzel looks up from his knife and wetstone, catching your gaze and waving before he returns to his work. From a panel in the ceiling, Elba grunts in acknowledgement, but stops his work and tastes the air at the arrival of a new scent. And as for your re-commissioned SupTac droid and Hunter-Killer head…

“…that’s…a Separatist droid, isn’t it?” Coming around behind you, Ceyla takes in the sight of your crew, and then everyone goes silent. They’re equal measures baffled to see her in your company, but the feeling is reciprocated only for the figure by the kitchen. “…there's nothing there in the Force, but I can perceive something...master, why is it wearing an apron?”

“Answer,” drones HK-82 from the burlap sack, eyes only visible from holes in said apron, “Because it is cooking dinner for the meatbags, and I do not wish to get sauce splattered all over my photoreceptors.”

Ceyla jumps at the reply. “Another droid?”

“Rebuttal: another meatbag?”

She doesn’t have an immediate response to that. Coughing, you step forward, almost like a parent or sibling presenting their charge. “I know this is a bit sudden, but we’re going to have an additional traveler with us. This is Ceyla. She’s my padawan, and she’ll be a permanent addition to the crew for the foreseeable future.”

(cont.)
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>>4803609
>Ceyla jumps at the reply. “Another droid?”
>“Rebuttal: another meatbag?”
4000 years later and he's still BASED
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>>4803653
Indeed
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>>4803609
Several things happen. Suzel stands, sauntering away from the table to get a closer look. B-33 returns to its cooking, a stew of some sort judging from the savory, mouth-watering aroma. Elba descends from his ladder, presenting himself before you, then squinting down at Ceyla. She squirms nervously at the size of the wookiee, nearly a full meter above her.

But the mechanic merely nods and offers a low, undulating growl.

“Translation,” calls HK-82, “If she is part of your family, then the circumstances of his life-debt extend to her as well. Additionally, he is pleased to have another addition to his extended ‘honor family.’”

“Erm…hi?” Ceyla waves nervously. The wookiee grunts and mimics the gesture, before returning to his ceiling panel. “…he can understand me, right?”

“He can,” confirms Suzel, “But apparently, it’d go a long way if you tried to learn his language. Not for me though. Between piloting simulations and my bladework, I don’t nearly have enough room on my plate to pick up a new language.”

The miraluka frowns. “Forgive me, but I don’t think I’m familiar with your species.”

He shrugs, not taking any offense. “The nagai don’t really get out away from this region of the galaxy. But that’s what I am, kid. Nagai.” He punctuates his statement by jabbing his finger into his chest. “Not Chiss or Pantoran or Ferroan, or any other blue-skinned alien. I’m Suzel Sho, son of Hol and Suzui. Your master’s master brought me on to repay the honor-debt my family owes to Farren.”

Your padawan gives you a queer look. “Master, how did you accumulate so many debts?”

“A lot happened during the Slaves’ Revolution,” you answer wryly. “Just so happened that I ran into both his mother and Supreme Archon Keimann when I infiltrated Amagi. I bought the droids myself.” But you pause, recalling the sight of Suzui wielding her chains against the Tof. “Erm…Suzel, quick question?”

“Quick answer. What’s up, boss?”

“Did your mother…the chains she uses with her sword and blaster.” THAT gets Ceyla’s immediate attention. “Where’d she learn how to fight like that?”

The nagai thinks about it, either oblivious or ignoring the way your padawan goes ramrod straight. Then shrugs. “She said she’d picked it up from another pit fighter. Not a slave, but one of them off-worlder gladiators brought in to spice up the competition. There was something that he said she lacked, but mum adapted to it well enough. Not nearly as good as him though.”

The Force, you think to yourself. “And where is this foreign gladiator now?”

Suzel grimaces. “Dead. ‘round a decade ago, he and mum were tag-team fighting a rancor, and he got behind to strangle it. Problem is, his leg got caught in his chains while the monster was bucking and thrashing. And when the rancor toppled, it fell backwards and onto an electrified fence-”

(cont.)
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>>4803695
You hold your hand up. “Got it. But humor me, did your mother ever teach you how to fight with chains?”

“Sure, but it wasn’t really for me.” He scratches his head, gesturing back to his whetstone. “’sides, the merchant ponce that owned us wanted me to look ‘presentable’, so that meant no chains. The gold sword I carried around like a bloody peacock was shiny enough, but would’ve snapped in two in a real fight-”

“Could you show it to me?” interjects Ceyla.

Suzel blinks. “The golden sword? I turned it into a belt buckle after the uprising-”

“I think she means the chain-fighting technique,” you gently correct.

“Oh.” A beat of silence as he ponders the question. “Sure, but you’d be better off asking my mum. She’s practiced it far longer than I have. And even she wasn’t as good as the one who taught it to her. Why so keen on it?”

Sharing a conspiratorial glance with Ceyla, you opt to answer, “Let’s just say that the gladiator has friends that might be hunting us. And they’re also adepts with chain-fighting-”

“Well, why didn’t you say so?” He’s all grins now. “I get it. ‘Know your enemy’ and all that. I’ll ask mum next communique to the Chiller about it.”

You try not to show too much relief. “Thanks, Suzel. I’ll fill you and the others in tomorrow, but I greatly appreciate that.”

“No problem, boss.” But before he returns to the table and his whetstone, he gives Ceyla another looking over. “Nice to meet you, kid. Hopefully with you on board, the Albatross’ next adventure is be on a lovely, temperate, resort planet.”

The lack of context causes her face to screw up in confusion. But you merely chortle, shooing him away. “Yeah, nice try, Suzel. Mind you, I made no promises for pleasure planets after we exfiled from Kakarit.”

The nagai makes a dramatic, exaggerated expression of horror on his face before he resumes the cleaning of his weapons.

“…what an interesting crew,” your padawan eventually says.

You shrug, grinning. “They are what they are. And while I’ve only had one mission with them, they make a good team. Wouldn’t have been able to complete my Trial of Spirit without them.”

She frowns, then tilts her head. “…so about your trial…was Master Larid really telling the truth when he said that you fought a ‘Darth Coniferous?’”

…hooo boy.

>>After dinner, what is the first assignment you’re going to give Ceyla?
>Force exercises and meditations on the Jedi Code.
>Lightsaber sparring and exercises with a remote droid.
>Reading a treatise on the origin of Jedi Shadows.
>Custom option. [Write-in]

[VOTE OPEN FOR SIX HOURS]
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>>4803750
>Lightsaber sparring and exercises with a remote droid.
Because who doesn’t want to make gender-flipped Jedi Zatoichi a thing?
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>>4803750
>Reading a treatise on the origin of Jedi Shadows
>>
>“…so about your trial…was Master Larid really telling the truth when he said that you fought a ‘Darth Coniferous?’”

And just like that, my sides have ruptured.
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>>4803750
>>Lightsaber sparring and exercises with a remote droid.
Wanna get a feel for which form she gravitates towards. Also, do we know her lightsaber color, Kaz?
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>>4803750
>Reading a treatise on the origin of Jedi Shadows.
>>
>>4803750
>Custom option. [Disguises. A Jedi Shadow is expected to move among a populace and carry out their assignments with none the wiser at the best of times. With the coming of the Empire, it has become a matter of life and death.]
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>>4803750
>>Reading a treatise on the origin of Jedi Shadows.
>>
>>4803787
I agree with that. The most important thing to learn is not being recognized as a jedi.

Something that comes much easier to a shadow than other jedi.

That includes disguises and not giving anything away by talking. Not traditional teaching, but not being recognized and attacked means one more avoided fight.
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>>4803910
So are you going to vote for it, then?
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>>4803750
>>4803910

>Custom option. [Disguises. A Jedi Shadow is expected to move among a populace and carry out their assignments with none the wiser at the best of times. With the coming of the Empire, it has become a matter of life and death.]
>>
>>4803695

>Not Chiss or Pantoran or Ferroan

Aren't Chiss supposed to be so rare that hardly anyone in the Empire even knew that was what Thrawn was? Holy shit, are we on the Chiss Empire's backyard?
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>>4803750

>Reading a treatise on the origin of Jedi Shadows.

She's already trained in the Force and with a lightsaber, but she knows nothing yet of what it is to be a Shadow. Let's remedy that, and the rest will come with practice.
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>>4803750
>>Reading a treatise on the origin of Jedi Shadows.
>>
>>4803750
support >>4803787
all the more important with how she's a Miraluka
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>>4803750
>Custom option. [Disguises. A Jedi Shadow is expected to move among a populace and carry out their assignments with none the wiser at the best of times. With the coming of the Empire, it has become a matter of life and death.]
Subtlety. Girl ain't got none right now.
>>
I'm a bit surprised at how few people seem to have turned up to vote. Could've sworn there were more previously.
>>
>>4803750
>>Reading a treatise on the origin of Jedi Shadows.
>>
Disguise practice seems like a good idea before we leave the planet; best to have her get some experience in a friendly environment. I say we give her access to materials & tips on disguises, then send her out with an objective in the marketplace that involves ferreting out some information without revealing her identity as a Jedi. Have B-33 secretly shadow her, pun intended, after she leaves, since she can't sense the droid in the Force. Has our feline friend returned from the Chiller yet? If not, let's spend that bit of time speaking to the Kakari Communion & seeing how they're adapting, or clearing out that Tof bunker that might still be locked down.
>>
>>4804496
Cool. Mind putting that in as a vote, then?
>>
>>4803695
>She squirms nervously at the size of the wookiee, nearly a full meter above her.
IMAGINE
M
A
G
I
N
E

>>4803750
>Reading a treatise on the origin of Jedi Shadows.
>>
>>4804509
>IMAGINE
>M
>A
>G
>I
>N
>E
Please don't lewd our daughter. After B-33, she's the only pure and innocent person we know.
>>
>>4804514
Please don't daughteru our padawan. She isn't around to be babied.
>>
>>4804517
>Please don't daughteru our padawan. She isn't around to be babied.
I wouldn't dream of babying her. We're a responsable father and/or older brother figure.
>>
>>4803783
Her lightsaber color is blue, due to the fact that she has a bog-standard Ilum crystal. That said, you do have a spare golden crystal from the lightsaber that the Herald of Jombaral destroyed on Kakarit.

Writing...
>>
>>4804520
This
>>
So could someone articulate the reason as to why a history lesson was higher priority than teaching our Padawan how to not have people recognize her as a Jedi wherever she goes?

I would genuinely wish to hear the reasoning.
>>
>>4804520
>I wouldn't dream of babying her. We're a responsable father and/or older brother figure.
But with sex.
>>
>>4804520
>father
*hits pipe*
>>
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>>4803768
>>4803784
>>4803873
>>4804098
>>4804272
>>4804480
>>4804509

B-33 lacks the olfactory or gustatory sensors to appreciate its work. As a result, the stew is wholly by-the-book, a product executed by exact measurement and precision. Culinary experts might argue about whether or not droids could truly cook, as authentic cooking comes from the heart. But what B-33 lacks in “a heart”, it more than makes up in cooking a satisfying meal.

Dinner is a lively affair. Your padawan doesn’t seem to have much trouble in integrating herself. Elba still makes her nervous, but she establishes a rapport with Suzel easily enough. The nagai scout takes it upon himself to teach her about his culture, his history. And you find yourself paying attention, poking at your food as Suzel regales the table with the history of the nagai.

“…we didn’t even make it five years as a space-faring civilization before the Tof invaded our homeworld.” He shakes his head, wistful. “I’ve never set foot on the land of my ancestors. We have stories, of course, from before the fall. And holo-images of the crystal cities, prized as cultural relics. I can’t even think of what they look like now after three hundred years of Tof oppression.”

“Wrrruh,” grunts Elba, upending two bowls’ worth of food into his gullet.

“Translation,” HK-82 interjects, “He very much feels the same way, and notes similarities between the nagai and wookiees. Circumstances permitting, he hopes that Master Farren will take us into direct conflict with the Tof. Observation: in a vacuum, your respective species would make for steadfast allies, or the deadliest enemies.”

Suzel laughs. “Yeah, our cultures are both big on honor, innit? And, mate, I just gotta say. After watching you pop the arms off an infected clone back on Kakarit, I’m so glad that we’re on the same side.”

The wookiee’s lips pull back in a terrifying approximation of a smile.

>>Later

“You’ve taken the Shadow’s oath,” you tell Ceyla as you finish cleaning up. The others have gone to their quarters, giving you a measure of privacy as they tuck in for the night. “And you know of our duty. But do you know the circumstances of our faction’s birth?”

Ceyla shakes her head that, no, she doesn’t.

“There is no ignorance, there is knowledge,” you recite from the Jedi Code, loading a program onto a datapad before sliding it towards her. “If need be, there is an audiobook version to accompany the treatise that you can download for listening on the go. Or sleep, for that matter.”

The miraluka frowns, tentatively accepting the offered item. “…and what exactly is this?”

“A general history of the Jedi Shadows. You might know the history of the Order at large (and even that’s censored to hell and back), but there’s a tighter lid on our particular branch. This treatise was written to give context for the newly-inducted.

(cont.)
>>
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“It gets dense at times,” you admit, “But it’s built that way to let the history *ahem* digest, for lack of a better word. While you might be familiar with the history provided in The Jedi Path, this treatise goes over content reserved only for our branch.”

Ceyla nods, launching the module. “Alright. I’ll get through it as fast as I can.”

You blink, pleasantly surprised that she isn’t complaining. You sure grumbled in the early days of your respective apprenticeship. Of all the things you expected on the first day, homework and a reading assignment wasn’t one of them. Lightsaber training and Force exercises didn’t come until you’d finished the treatise…and even then, Master Larid quizzed you as remote droids blasted you with stun bolts!

“The Great Hyperspace War?” mutters your apprentice as she glosses over the text. Not reading as much as skimming over bolded points or chapters. “Naga Sadow…the Counter-Invasion of Korriban…Sith Alchemy…Exar Kun and the Great Sith Wars…the Resurgent Sith Empire and the Barsen’thor…”

You smile. “Dense, isn’t it? Even if most of it’s been cherry-picked and censored. You’ll get the full version once you make Knighthood, apparently. There’s still things Master Larid is keeping under wraps for safekeeping. But speed isn’t the goal. Context and understanding are what you should be looking for: two virtues that a Jedi Shadow is expected to have.”

“I understand.” She flips a page, frowns, then tentatively raises a hand. “I have one question, actually.”

“Go ahead.”

Your apprentice flips the pad towards you, enhancing the image of a fierce-looking Jedi Shadow in ornate battle armor. “When am I gonna get one of these?”

>>The following day…

Just as the sun comes across the plains, casting light upon the spaceport of Sereno, you knock sharply on the Bantha’s hatch. When no answer is immediately forthcoming, you exhale warily, punching in the emergency override code. “C’mon, master. This isn’t becoming of you…”

The Force bond between you and Master Larid has been…muted of late. Distant as he had been on the Chiller, you’d still felt his echo across the system. A cold sense of justice against the Tof, joy and relief when the younglings had returned. Thirteen years of apprenticeship and fighting alongside each other have forged a bond unique between master and padawan. And it isn’t easily broken upon your promotion to Knighthood.

But his end of the connection is eerily silent. You can still feel him; he hasn’t Severed himself from the Force. Yet he’s simply…lost? There’s a definite numbness, the absence of emotion seen on the traumatized or emotionally distressed. Overwhelmed by emotions, the body and mind just…shuts down.

…it would be ridiculous to assume the worst. Not that it stops you from leaping into the Bantha before the ramp finishes opening.

(cont.)
>>
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To your great relief, Master Larid is still aboard the ship. The older man is seemingly asleep, feet kicked back on the main table of the mess hall. And not for the first time, the mess is perhaps as literal as it gets. Mercifully, there aren’t any stray alcohol bottles, but the common room is dim and absolutely filthy.

“Master?” you hesitantly offer. “Are you alright? Have you...collected yourself?"

“Try again in a week.” He stirs, running a weary hand down the side of his face. “Force, you really came as early as possible, Farren.”

You cross your arms. “…I had to make sure that you weren’t going to leave.”

Larid blinks, then frowns. “I know I’m a controversial master, but I’m not nearly that mean. I told you that already, yesterday, that I wasn’t going to leave. I’m almost hurt that you think that low of me, Farren.”

“Sorry,” you apologize, venturing towards the nearby light switch. Larid grimaces as a soft, white light fills the interior of the Bantha on. “What happened after I left? The DNA test was only just beginning.”

“The first test was inconclusive,” he spits, growling low and annoyed. “The saliva from her mask was contaminated with silica dust, asbestos…and melted slag, courtesy of your lighstaber. The sequencer barely managed to read 35% of it before it gave up the ghost.”

Next time, you’ll be sure not to aim for the mask. “No blood to work with?”

“No. Much as I’d like to a q-tip and go scrubbing around that ghoulish galleria, I have no doubt that the M.S.D.F. has already gone and cleaned it up.” He gestures towards the reliquary. “And before you go asking, there was nothing on the stump of a lightsaber. No prints or anything, not even blood. Just dust from the galleria…and what I suspect is flecks of your charred skin.”

You pull up a chair, pouring yourself and Master Larid each a tall glass of water. “But of the 35%...what happened after that?”

Larid takes the offered drink, staring into its depths as if it had all the answers in the galaxy. Your master’s eyes are distant, and his thoughts far, far away as he drains the entirety of the glass. He nurses the empty glass in introspective silence, and his fingers twitch as if reaching for a heavier drink.

Eventually, he fishes out a slip of paper from his robes, and tosses it onto the table. “…my DNA wasn’t enough. I…I had to use a second DNA sample as a reference.”

You try not to look too surprised. “But, master, you were so…sure of the fact that you’re related to the Revenant. If not you, then who...?”

>>Checking Light Side points and Larid Influence…
>>You have enough of both!

Brethon Larid takes a deep breath. Then exhales, as if relieved(?) to unburden himself of a terrible weight on his soul. And with only the slightest hesitation, he reaches into the breast pocket of his inner robes, and produces a series of objects hanging from a cord.

(cont.)
>>
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You nearly miss them as he throws them to you. Somehow, you manage to balance your glass as well as the unexpected projectiles. Setting your drink down, you examine the objects with the overhead light. A trio of objects, two bands of metal, and what appears to be a brooch or locket that could fit in your palm.

“Open it,” he grunts. “That’s where I got the DNA from. I’d never thought I’d needed to put it into the Bantha’s computers until today…”

It takes you a moment, fiddling with the lock. And just as it appears that Larid might leap out of his seat and do it for you, it pops open. Holding it up to the light, you behold a picture…no, a small painting, watercolor, you think. The image, only slightly bigger than your thumbnail, is that of a young, human woman. She is visibly pregnant and resting her hand upon her belly in a warm, motherly expression.

But that’s not all the locket contains. Carved into the back of the cover is a note of sorts, reading: ‘Light guide you back to us, Ari.’ And what you perceive to be twine nearly falls onto the floor, but you catch it at the last moment. But it isn’t twine, you discover as it passes around your fingers. It’s a length of red-blonde hair, tied together in a bundle small enough to fit into the locket.

And it’s only when you feel the cold, metal bands around your fingers, one large and bulky, the other small and delicate, do you realize what they are. And everything falls into place as you look at the wedding rings, then to Master Larid, then back to the locket, the painting and the hair in your hands.

Hair the color of the woman in the picture.

Hair the color of the Revenant who fell.

“…master?” You turn to him and ask in a voice you barely recognize as your own. “Master, who is she?”

“…the reference for the second DNA test,” he whispers in a broken voice, full of heartache and longing, sorrow and despair. It is a voice you’ve never, ever heard your master use. “Only this time, the scanner worked. A full 50% of the Revenant’s DNA matched to the hair of my…my late wife.”

It’s almost as if someone’s sucked the air out of the room, and pulled the metal flooring from beneath your feet. You can’t breathe. You can’t say anything. Words come to your mouth, but they’re lodged in your throat. It seems that all both you and Master Larid can do is just…stare at each other, incredulous and unmoving.

But it seems that your mouth is first to go free, and with it, the immediate thoughts in your mind.

>>How will you respond?
>“I guess that a long, long time ago, my mother wasn't the only Jedi who decided to procreate.” (Humor)
>“Even if the Revenant is your daughter, she’s fallen to the Dark Side, and is thus our enemy.” (Duty)
>“You’re a hypocrite for giving me grief about rescuing Arotta when you went and did this!” (Condemn)
>Custom option. [Write-in]

[VOTE OPEN FOR TEN HOURS]
>>
>>4804748
>Custom option. [Write-in]
Compassion.
He knows what duty requires. But one can hope there's a little light left. Right now, compassion. He hasn't had the time to properly grieve for everything.

If only we were Luke, the exact opposite situation.
>>
>>4804748
I'm not sure what emotion this would qualify as, maybe compassion too, but something along the lines of:

"Is this why didn't want me to rescue Arrota?
>>
>>4804748
>"We should take our time with this, try and gather as much information as possible before we make any moves. There's more than one way to defeat an enemy than resorting to violence right?"
I don't think going full Duty or full "Compassion" is good for Larid, if we take it slow we can learn if there is any way of turning her or if not at least we'll be able give Larid more time to accept the situation.
>>
>>4804911

+1
This seems to be the best... Median we can try and reach right now. We just need more information before we make any moves towards a solution. I know immediate action is the whole shtick of the shadows but I feel like we don't have all we need to make a full on plan and Laird needs time to try and think on what he's going to do.

Fuck this was a force boosted kick in the head.
>>
>>4804748
>”Two of the biggest things a Shadow needs are context and Understanding. I don’t have either here, not yet. How’d this happen?” (Concern)
>>
>>4804547
Because you need to learn WHY you do things before you learn HOW to do them.
>>
>>4805205
Supporting this.
>>
>>4804688
Wait, how is she reading a datapad?
>>4804748
>“I guess that a long, long time ago, my mother wasn't the only Jedi who decided to procreate.” (Humor)
>>
>>4804748
>>Custom option. [Write-in]
"Shit."
>>
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>>4804748
>A full 50% of the Revenant’s DNA matched to the hair of my…my late wife.
Pic related
>>”Two of the biggest things a Shadow needs are context and Understanding. I don’t have either here, not yet. How’d this happen?” (Concern)
>>
>>4805205
Changing to this
>>
>>4805205
+1
>>
>>4804748
Supporting >>4805205
>>
>>4805205
This seems good
>>
I’m too late to vote on this, but can I make a suggestion that afterwards, we take Laris to The Tipsy Toffer so he can take his mind off of this with a few drinks and so we can check with the girls to see if Ingmar was being honest about how he treated them
>>
>>4805205
+1
>>
>>4804748
>spoiler
Good taste, shishou. Mercie a cute

>>4805205
+1
>>
>>4804748
>"Well I hope she's not a clone."
>>
>>4804748
>Custom option. [Write-in]
"Nice lay brah. I'd suck a fart out of her ass."
>>
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>>4804761
>>4804911
>>4805176
>>4805205
>>4805236
>>4805304
>>4805311
>>4805515
>>4805596
>>4805713
>>4806300
>>4807089

You really want to scream. You want to right the wrong churning in your guts by hurling a fiery tirade against your master. The words he needled you with prior to the departure to Kakarit aren’t easily forgotten, even if they had been a test of your resolve. How dare he try to lecture you about your emotions and ‘separating your heart from your genitals’, when he had a wife!

It’s so easy to say those things. But it’s even harder to hold your tongue, and grit your teeth. As quick as it comes, the burst of anger that flares within you quietly dissipates into nothing, leaving only concern for your master, and a desire for answers.

The Dark Side of the Force almost seems to chuckle, amused as it retreats from the back of your mind. Another time, then, another opportunity…

Pulling up a chair, you seat yourself before your master. With one hand, you refill your glasses. With the other, you gently seal the locket, and slide the mementos of his wife across the table. “...you taught me that two of the most important things a Shadow could ever need are context and understanding. I don’t have either here, not yet anyway. Please, how did this happen?”

He’s silent, eyeing both you and the drink with a wary expression. Then, a bitter chuckle. “I did teach you that, didn’t I? And here I was, getting ready for you to start screaming and calling me a hypocrite. That’s what I’d be doing in your place if my master told me something similar.”

“The thought did occur,” you answer truthfully, “But it wouldn’t get us anywhere, and only drive a wedge in our relationship. In-fighting is the last thing we need now, and words said in the heat of the moment.”

The ghost of a smile dances across your master’s lips. “You’ve become wise, my former padawan. I still have fond memories of your earlier, more impatient days.”

It’s hard to resist the urge to roll your eyes. “Master.”

“Right, right. Context and understanding, was it?” He shakes his head, rubbing the sides of his temple as if warding off a headache. “…this is a story I only ever told to Master Yoda and Master Vilbum, Caretaker of First Knowledge, when I returned. Aure and Kosa only know it as the ‘incident’, and even then, only as a report of a sabbatical while on a mission."

He smiles, then frowns, settling back into his seat. It takes him a moment, mulling on his thoughts and words, before he slowly begins: “The long and short of it was that I was marooned for nearly two years. I wasn’t a Jedi Knight for more than a year when it happened, chasing after an artifact smuggler down the Hydian Way. Damned fool skirted around the gravity well of a black hole to try and throw me off his tail. And me, being a bigger fool, chased after him in the tensest, most idiotic game of chicken I ever played.

(cont.)
>>
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“But something went wrong. Just as he made to hyperspace, the black hole seemed to…” He shrugs uncertainly. “I don’t know, ripple? But the disturbance it caused in space-time caught the two of us unawares. His ship blew up spectacularly, and it was all I could do to keep everything together while I rode out the wave.

“It almost seemed to go on forever…” He pauses, shuddering. “But the anomaly ended, spitting half of my ship into real space, and right into an uncontrolled, lateral descent into a planet’s atmosphere. Cockpit was fused shut, and the explosive bolts for the ejector seat weren’t responding. I barely had enough systems left to do a quick scan, and maneuver the ship towards a lake the sensors picked up. Damn near threw my neck out upon impact, even as it gave me a really bad concussion.”

He takes a moment to drink, then observe the gentle swirling of the water in his glass. “I nearly drowned. My lightsaber was lost in the crash, and I barely had time to orient myself as the lake started rushing in. I was up to mouth in water when I saw boats approaching the ship, then a man with a plasma torch. I lost consciousness as he cut through the cockpit and hauled me out.”

Larid closes his eyes, and his grip around the locket tightens. “…I woke up in a healing ward, with the most beautiful woman I’d ever met in the entire galaxy tending to my wounds. The way the morning sunlight glanced off her hair, and the gentle smile on her lips as she redressed the bloody bandages around my head…I’ve met the Diathim, ‘angels’ the galaxy knows them as. But the young lady before me surpassed even them in both appearance and demeanor.”

His voice is tinged with a painful melancholy. “I tried asking where I was, what planet I was on, whether or not in the off-chance they fished out my lightsaber. But all that came out in a raspy, guttural croak was an inquiry for her name. She giggled, telling me that her name was Tessa Ceryll, and that her father Eliden was the one who saved me from drowning. And that the two figures I saw at the edge of my vision, darting and trying to hide in the corners of the ward, were her younger siblings, Owain and Eira. They and all the villagers of du Lac’s Hollow, the settlement where I landed, were so very curious about me, and gravely concerned about what my arrival meant for them.

“As it just so happened, Tessa was an acolyte-in-training to become a healer, and her elders had assigned me to her care for both long-term recovery, as well as interrogation. But the flow of information wasn’t one-sided, although it took a long time for me to get there. I gave them an old alias: Ari, a university student from Coruscant on long-term assignment to chart maps and the history of the galaxy. Not that they knew where Coruscant was, or what it was for that matter.”

"They didn't know about Courscant?" you echo, frowning. "Master, how far did the anomaly take you?"

(cont.)
>>
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Larid empties his glass, reaching for the pitcher once more to wet his throat. “Very, very far away from the Deep Core and the Hydian Way. I never got the exact coordinates. I was forbidden to look back into it when I returned, but probably somewhere very, very deep in the outer Tingel Arm if I were to backtrack my escape and return to the Jedi Temple.”

“In the Tingel arm, you will find a planet where night is day, and misery permeates the very bedrock itself. Three moons stand vigil over a barren valley, over a world seeped in tragedy, bloodshed, fire and the Dark Side of the Force. Seek it when you are only truly ready, for the journey is just as dangerous as the destination…”

Alleana’s warning comes unbidden to the front of your mind. But Larid is too deep into his cup to notice the slightest twitch or tell on your face. The Force bond you share is shut tight, but your master is not able to completely shield you from his emotions. He almost slips back into a facsimile of his former self, not quite adopting wry tone of voice: “I think they only kept me alive just to make sure that I wasn’t portents for more visitors. Beyond other visitors from neighboring settlements, the entire populace of the planet really doesn’t like off-worlders.”

“I assume there’s a good reason for it,” you counter lightly.

His eyes glint, and the corner of his mouth quirks up in amusement. “There is. It took me weeks of being a good patient, entertaining Owain and Eira with stories from across the galaxy, and otherwise assuring Tessa that I was alone. And finally, the elders allowed her to tell me more about her people. Tell me when it starts to sound familiar.”

But before you can ask about that, he launches into an elaboration: “According to the legend, Tessa’s ancestors were refugees of a religious bent, persecuted by an army of darkness led by demons wielding swords of crimson energy. But they were held at bay by an army of light led by guardian spirits. As the guardians fought the demons, the refugees managed to cobble together a great ark, a liveship capable of housing five thousand souls. One of their holy men came across a starchart leading to a supposed promised land where they would be safe from the war. Loading the faithful onto the Prydwen, they made a series of blind jumps through what we know as the Outer Rim, eventually finding their planet after three years of wandering the stars.”

You raise a curious eyebrow. A magnificent tale indeed. And true to form, it does sound very, very familiar. “And how long ago was this, exactly?”

“Almost one thousand years ago,” Larid answers, and all but confirms your hunch.

“They were fleeing the Skere Kaan and his Brotherhood of Darkness. The army of light, presumably, is the Army of Light, led by Lord Hoth of the Jedi Order. Swords of crimson energy are obviously lightsabers. Guardian spirits are the Jedi, and the demons are the Sith.”

(cont.)
>>
“I made the same conclusion, but the history lesson is only context. When they landed on the planet, they scuttled the Prydwen, offering it up as sacrifice to their gods and making sure that no one could leave their new homeworld, Cartref in the local tongue. Subsequently, their paranoia of the war and brutality of the invading Sith instilled in them a fierce distrust and xenophobia of anyone that wasn’t a part of their faith. They cut off all contact with the wider galaxy to focus inward on themselves and their religion.”

“That’s naïve,” you argue. “Even if they just shut themselves off from the rest of the galaxy, there’s no guarantee that anyone else would stumble across them.”

“Perhaps,” he agrees, “But while most of the Prydwen’s scrap and salvage went to create the myriad settlements across the planet, they still kept its defensive guns, reconfiguring them into surface-to-space cannons. I was told that they do a good enough job of deterring opportunistic raiders.”

“But you can’t have been the first one to discover the planet. In a thousand years, no-one from the corporate sector, or even the criminal syndicates…?”

“Apparently not. But that really doesn’t matter. As soon as they were certain I wasn’t a pirate, and I could walk, the village high priest, Pontiff Ithel, decreed that I was to become a part of du Lac’s Hollow. With my spaceship a hundred feet deep in Lake Nimue, it was a sign from the gods for me to ‘start a new life’ with them in idyllic isolation from the rest of the galaxy.”

You feel your jaw drop, just slightly. “That’s…bold. Trying to detain a Jedi.”

“Believe me when I say that I fought tooth and nail against that,” your master growls, “But there was no denying that I was stuck without a spaceship, especially since I had only half of a drowned one! I debated telling them that I was one of the fabled ‘guardian spirits’ from their legends, but I decided against it. I didn’t even have the energy sword to prove it. And I didn’t know how they’d react to my use of the Force.”

“But you managed to escape, didn’t you?”

A pained expression flashes across his face. “…in their capital of Avalonia, where they had the bulk of the Prydwen’s wreckage, I managed to find a courier ship in the bowls of the grand temple, and barely enough fuel for a jump back into more civilized space. But I’m getting ahead of myself. For the better part of two years, I was forced to stay as a guest of du Lac’s Hollow.

“And Tessa had nothing to do with your decision to stay?”

He shoots you a look that could sear the paint off the underside of a starship hull. But it softens as he glances at the picture in the locket. “No one wanted to house me, the off-worlder. But the Ceryll’s offered me the attic. There were five of them, Eliden the smithy and his wife Tseni, and their children: Tessa, Owain and Eira. I made six in that dusty alcove.”

(cont.)
>>
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This time, you offer no playfulness in your voice. “That’s…quite the happy coincidence.”

Larid snorts derisively. “Oh, there were so many protests. Least of all the Pontif’s son, Pyris. Tessa was the village sweetheart, a paragon of feminine virtue according to their religion. Half the lads of her age were head-over-heels for her. But Pyris was going to inherit rulership over du Lac’s Hollow upon his father’s death. And in the rumor mill had it that Ithil and Tseni were angling to have Pyris marry Tessa. Wouldn’t be proper for an off-worlder to share the same roof as her.”

Obviously, Master Larid seems to have won Tessa’s heart. But you don’t vocalize that, instead remaining silent as he composes the next part of his story.

“So I did what odd jobs I could do. du Lac’s Hollow was a mining settlement, and there was always a need for hands to break ore. I did that for a while, but Eliden always needed an extra hand at the smithy. Owain was twelve at the time, too young to inherit his father’s trade, but he watched as I learned the ins and outs of the family trade. And while it was improper for me to stay too close to Tessa, I became close friends with her seven-year-old sister, Eira. Even when the novelty of my arrival wore off, she never failed to pester me for more stories about the galaxy, or drag me into adventures in the woods that had us coming home with frogs in our pockets and overalls stained with mud.”

A bitter note enters his voice. “…Owain and Eira were the closest I had to siblings. The lad didn’t necessarily want to take up his father’s trade, wanted to be a leader of the village militia. He asked me to train him whenever I had the free time after he saw me join the militia to protect the village from bandits. Didn’t have my lightsaber, but I made well enough with a sword and blaster.

“Eira…the poor girl lived in the shadow of her sister. I saw it firsthand – Tessa was perfect in everyone’s eyes, so how did Eliden and Tseni produce an unladylike, tomboyish troublemaker? And whenever she got into trouble, it was always ‘oh, Tessa’s sister’ this, ‘Tessa’s sister that’. That kind of attention was all she got when everyone else was focused on her elder, far more superior sister.”

“…that’s awful,” you offer sympathetically, and you mean it.

He nods. “And much like myself, she didn’t have too many friends. She once begged me to sneak onto a boat, and salvage my spaceship from the bottom of Lake Nimue. Even if I had no use for it, she would repair it and venture off into the galaxy, far away from Catref where she just wouldn’t be ‘Eira, sister of Tessa.’ On any other world, she would have thrived and went far above her lot in life.”

Would have thrived?

When his glass is empty once more, Larid doesn't go for the water pitcher. Instead, he reaches for the liquor cabinet, not bothering with a glass as he drinks straight from the bottle.

(cont.)
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Larid pauses, and his eyes track towards the picture in the locket. “…I struggled to remain true to the Jedi Code in spite of the situation. The fact of my marooning didn’t change that I was still a Shadow or a Knight. But when I’ve been trained my whole life to combat the Sith, and there are no Sith around…I never felt so helpless…or useless for that matter.

"Is a Jedi still a Jedi without his lightsaber? Is a Shadow still a Shadow without the Sith to hunt or define his purpose? I still had the Force, but it was a small comfort without direction. I refused to use it for mundane or rote tasks, even repelling the occasional bandit. And I wasn’t nearly as lucky to see off-world pirates try and make planetfall, or I’d have left on a hijacked ship.

“I didn’t know who I was, Farren. Was I Brethon Larid, Jedi Shadow and sworn enemy of the Dark Side? Or was I Ari the Off-Worlder, apprentice blacksmith and hopelessly in love with Tessa Ceryll.

"I struggled with it for months, felt myself slipping. At the time, I really questioned if this was the will of the Force, and did everything in my power to try and locate parts of the Prydwen. I didn’t stop until I exhausted every option I had at the time, and was sure that the rest of my life was going to be one on Cartref.”

He gestures at nothing with the bottle in his hands. “I only found out about the courier ship, a small thing barely large enough for me to fit in, only after the tragedy. Had I known about it then, or asked the right questions…but no, it didn’t happen. Even after I had healed, and it wasn’t socially prudent for us to be seen together, Tessa set aside time for me. At first, just to check that I hadn’t reopened any wounds, tutting whenever I got in trouble with either bandits or the rougher townsfolk. Then making sure that I’d known the tenants of her people’s faith, and was an ardent believer of the Inner Light.

“We spent hours talking about everything and nothing. Farren, I don’t know if what you have with Arotta is love, but just basking in Tessa’s presence…I felt more at peace than I ever did at the Jedi Temple. I’d traveled the galaxy as a padawan and in that one year as a Knight, but all the meditation in the galaxy didn’t even come close to just five minutes with her.”

He grimaces. “And then I nearly messed up. I told her how I felt, how much peace she brought me, and for the first time, I saw her face tense in discomfort. You know what she told me, Farren? She just gave me a sad smile, and said that there was no longer any doubt that I was one of du Lac’s Hollow.

“She didn’t speak to me for a week. I didn’t understand it at first. When I asked Eliden, he just gave me a look. I couldn’t think of taking it to Tseri, enamored as she Tessa marrying Pyris. Owain just shrugged, but it took Eira kicking me in the shin to realize what I’d done.”

“Which was…?” you ask.

(cont.)
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>>4809319
>“Which was…?” you ask.

The cliffhangers man

It hurts
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>>4809319
Larid grimaces. “I put her on a pedestal, same as the rest of the village. But of a different sort. I didn’t see her for who she was as much as what she brought me. Eira was very…vocal in her discontent. She definitely felt inferior to Tessa, but she still loved her enough tp tell me how to make things right.”

The Shadow glances at a nearby cabinet, using the Force to call forth a can of garnish into his empty hand. “I was the first one she ever told that she hated spicy things. But the cultural dish of her religion features exotic spices, and she has to eat them to save face. A few years ago, Tessa baked a loaf of bread to give as charity during the winter solstice, but now it’s expected of her to bake it every year. And smile as if she wasn’t tired or otherwise sleep deprived. And as for marrying Pyris? He was nice enough, and her to him, but there was no attraction on her part that wasn’t forced by her mother.”

You nod in understanding. Once, in the Jedi Temple, you read a treatise about ‘public and private faces’, and how it applied to the myriad Senators that represented their planets. “Right. So, even as they praised her, they didn’t…know the real her? She hid her feelings for the sake of being their ideal woman.”

“Got it in one. Although trust me when I say that Tessa didn’t do it all on purpose.”

“Was it forced on her? I get the elders and the gossip about Pyris...”

“No. She was just that earnest in being a good person. But she was only human, and the pressure was gnawing at her. And that made me realize that she was using me for her own peace of mind. I was an off-worlder, knew nothing about her, wouldn’t judge or tell anyone else if she said something untoward. A fresh face that didn’t know anything about the societal weight her village thrust upon her, and the impossibly high pedestal they’d placed her on.

“Still, we eventually made up. And then had a long discussion about using each other as outlets for peace or escape. Just around that time, I finally resolved the issue of what I wanted in the vacuum of the Jedi."

His gaze is intense, as raw as you'd ever seen in thirteen years. And through the Force bond, you can sense the storm of emotions that accompanies his words. "I loved Tessa, and I wanted to spend the rest of my life with her to raise a family."

He sets down the container, fiddling with the metal rings on the necklace. His eyes are distant, and his voice soft as he recounts, “In the Spring Equinox, they have this Garland Rite, where the women eligible to be married accept wreathes from prospective suitors. And if she returned their gesture with another bouquet, they were seen as engaged to be married. Tessa was just at the age to be married and it was expected for her to return an offered gift. Pyris got her a garland of crimson roses, the best his father's money could buy. Everyone else bowed graciously out of the way for the pontif's son.”

(cont.)
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You already know where he’s going from the way he’s speaking. The moment where he recounts where he flipped everything on its head. Not entirely different from when he gets the upper hand in a chase as a Jedi Shadow. And you can’t help but grin like a co-conspirator about to ruin someone’s day. “So what did you get her with a blacksmith’s budget?”

“A garland of wildflowers, Farren,” he answers, and returns your grin with the more roguish, crooked smirk you’re used to seeing on his face. “Plucked from the mountain with Eira’s help, and woven together with Owain. They didn’t like Pyris either. And when I stepped forward to stand beside the pontiff’s son, a sneeze would’ve sounded like an explosion in the silence that followed. Pontiff Ithil was about to have a stroke, same as Tseri. How dare this off-worlder interrupt and come between Pyris and Tessa.”

You laugh at the image it conjures up, lightening the air of the Bantha. “I can’t imagine the looks on their faces when she gave you her garland.”

“Actually, she prepared two,” corrects Larid, much to your surprise. “And she finally figured out what she truly wanted, after years of trying to be the ideal woman of du Lac’s Hollow. To Pyris, she gave a garland of alstroemeria, symbols of wealth and prosperity, and good fortune for a friend. And to the off-worlder, she gave a wreath of red chrysanthemums: fidelity, optimism, joy, long life and love.”

“Holy shit!” you mutter, utterly amazed. “That’s…quite the public middle finger from the paragon of feminine virtue.”

Larid chortles. “Yeah. A riot nearly broke out. Ithil had to be restrained by his clergymen, and Tseri fainted in Eliden’s arms. But I’ll give Pyris credit. He swallowed his tears and moved to the side as Tessa leapt into my arms and kissed me in full view of the settlement. The Pontiff hurled obscenities at us, swearing to all the gods that he and his clergy would never officiate a wedding that I was a part of.

“And then Pyris did something that I would be eternally grateful for. He said that he’d officiate the ceremony, as a wedding gift and final severance from the woman he loved...on the condition that I'd make her the happiest woman on the planet. We were both surprised, but not so much as his father. Ithil…was never the same after that. But he couldn’t do anything, because Pyris wasn’t under his purview due to some legal jargon of the church.”

Your master lifts his hand, and the overhead light catches a very faint tanline on his ring finger where the metal band must have been. “And in what half the village called the worst scandal in recent memory, I married Tessa Ceryll that summer, and broke from the Jedi Code. Tseri refused to speak to me, but the rest of the Cerylls welcomed me for a second time to their family. Owain and Eira, in particular, didn't bother to temper their joy at thumbing their nose at the Pontiff."

(cont.)
>>
Man, Larid had more of a fairytale romance than Anakin did. I really, really hope it doesn't end worse than his, too.
>>
>>4809383
Anon....
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>>4809383

I'm gonna go for a quick run. Be back in a moment, just need to stretch.
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>>4809408
YOU COCKSUKER
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>>4809383
>Man, Larid had more of a fairytale romance than Anakin did
Well yeah, in most fairy tales the prince is way older than the princess.

>I really, really hope it doesn't end worse than his, too.
Not like he killed her. Right?
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>>4809408

I do not like that smug face one bit.

And don't think I didn't catch all those Arthurian references, either.
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>>4809445
Larid was 28 when he married Tessa, who was 20 at the time. A bit further in disparity than the 14-9 that was Padme and Anakin. So...fairytale romance accurate in terms of age, then?

Although I will say that appearance-wise, while Jake Lloyd was fine as Anakin, I have reservations about the casting of 19-year-old Natalie Portman as a 14-year-old queen. And it doesn't help that in pic related during the ending of TPM, she looks like a shotacon biting her lip in anticipation for jumping Anakin's bones.

>>4809456
Well, yeah. Also, the Revenant speaks with a very noticeable Welsh accent.

At any rate, I'm back from my run. Resuming...
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>>4809383
It's probably going to be much worse considering the Revenant's existence. Please look forward to it.
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>>4809382
Snorting, you pour yourself a drink out of the liquor cabinet. After double-checking that it isn’t Riven’s Scumjumper Special, you sip lightly at your glass. Not quite toasting out of respect and fear of unbalancing your master further. “Sounds like quite the fairytale romance.”

“It is, wasn’t it?” replies Larid, his tone uncharacteristically wistful. “For the better part of a year, I was the happiest I’d ever been in my life. And I finally understood how your mother could have left the Jedi Order. Granted, our circumstances were…different. But if your father gave her even half of what Tessa gave me, then it isn’t any wonder why she left.”

Your grip on the glass tightens only slightly as you take another sip. “Right, but we aren’t talking about my mother.”

“No, we weren’t…” He almost seems reluctant to return to his story, even as you feel a warm, melancholy through the bond. “Things were looking up for all of us. I built her an extension of the Ceryll house, and moved us into it. Eliden sponsored my blacksmithy exam, and he hinted that he would pass the family franchise onto me. Eira had started to smooth out her relationship with Tessa, and Owain secured himself a junior officer’s position in the village militia. Hell, even Pyris managed to find himself a new sweetheart, a slip of a merchant’s daughter from the nearby settlement of Kaybedd. We weren’t friends, but we were on good enough terms in spite of everything.

“Tseri, mother-in-law dearest, was the daughter of a priest. So her reputation took a really bad hit when her daughter married an ‘off-world vagabond.' She threatened to divorce Eliden, even going so far as to move out of the house until my addition was demolished.”

“What a vindictive harpy,” you say distastefully.

To your surprise, Larid defends her: “She wasn’t without her faults, but she had her virtues as well. For one thing, she baked a mean quiche. And thank the Force that she gave the recipe to Tessa before she broke off contact.”

“But, master, everything you’ve told me about her expectations for Tessa…”

“True enough. She eventually came around many months later, more out of concern for her daughter than affection for me.”

Suddenly, he goes silent, then almost disturbingly still. Then, in a voice little louder than a whisper: “Around the same time that Tessa pulled me aside after work, and told me that her moonblood was late. I was going to be a father.”

This time, you don’t say anything in response. You hold your silence, giving your master enough time to reconcile the storm that surges through the bond. It takes him several moments, and another drink, before he’s able to continue.

“It was the highest point of my life…” he says, trembling as he refills his glass. And this is only the second time you've seen him so terribly shaken. “…so it only made enough sense for everything afterwards to go downhill.

(cont.)
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>>4809535
https://youtu.be/Yag41F7eCLU
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>>4809535
>“It was the highest point of my life…” he says, trembling as he refills his glass. And this is only the second time you've seen him so terribly shaken. “…so it only made enough sense for everything afterwards to go downhill.
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>>4809535
“du Lac’s Hollow was a mining settlement, nestled quietly in the shadow of Mynydd Morgen. We exported raw and refined ores alike, mostly iron and an alloy like dursasteel colloquially known as wyndur, ‘White Steel.’ When the township was founded, they prospected enough ore to reliably sustain a mining economy for hundreds of years. And they banked much of their capital on loans and arrangements with the other settlements on future profits they didn’t nearly have yet.”

You motion to speak. “I can guess what happened. All of the mines, they dried up, didn’t they?”

Larid nods. “It was almost a thing of beauty to watch. One by one, the hauls became less, and the miners explored as much as they could without blasting new forays into the earth. But it wasn’t taking too long before all they were pulling up were iron ores by the bucket, and diminishing returns of the components needed to smelt the wyndur. And it would only be a matter of time before our debtors came calling.

“Ithil called for an emergency town hall. While our prospectors and engineers would blast deeper into the valley and existing tunnels, diplomatic teams would have to be sent out to the other settlements to renegotiate the shipping agreements.” Your master grimaces, pinching the bridge of his nose in consternation. “Naturally, I was selected to accompany one of the teams.”

You blink, utterly perplexed. “But why? Master, you were a blacksmith at the time, not a diplomat!”

He grins, but it doesn’t quite reach his eyes. “Eliden was training me to inherit the shop. That meant cutting deals with suppliers, negotiating contracts with clients, and all the other finer points of business. So not a diplomat, but a businessman. And I don’t want to toot my own horn, but I was pretty damn good at haggling.

“It made enough sense for me to go. Not that I liked it, or the Cerylls for that matter. Tessa was six months into her pregnancy, and her siblings raised all kinds of hell in protest. There was a very good chance that I’d miss the birth of our child. Pyris tried to get his father to change his mind, and Force bless him, but old bastard wouldn’t budge. Still sore from the public humiliation during the last Spring Equinox.

“All I could do was motivate myself to return home soon enough, come back in two months, not the requisite four, and be present for the birth of my child.” He takes another long drink from the bottle. Then, shakes his head and spits onto the floor. “The entire tragedy could’ve been avoided if Ithil hadn’t sent me. It’s not Jedi-like to hate someone, Farren, but he was as close to it as possible. Even now, I reserve a portion of my bile for the old pontiff of du Lac’s Hollow."

"This tragedy, then..." you venture cautiously. "Is this where you know the Storyteller from?"

His gaze darkens. Hairline cracks run up the length of his empty whiskey bottle as his fist clenches tight around it.

(cont.)
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"We’re nearly there, Farren,” he says in a low, menacing voice, “But, yes, that’s where I know that bastard from.”

Laird pauses to shift in his seat, throwing the bottle into a nearby bin. But he doesn’t replace his drink merely folding his hands together and resting his head against them. “I pushed my caravan as fast as I could within the limits of human and equine ability. And before you ask, Catref didn’t have speeders or comms; they feared that development of those kinds of technology would attract the attention of marauders. Everything was done by couriers and pony express.”

“That sounds horribly inefficient,” you state neutrally.

“It worked, didn’t it?” He chortles humorlessly. “Everyone was looking to the stars for trouble when they really should’ve been looking down at their own feet. But at any rate, my caravan went from town to settlement, renegotiating through diplomacy, or otherwise strong-arming our way through the backrooms and conference halls. I managed to get extensions of credit, chart installment plans…I did a pretty damned good job, if I do say so myself. By the time I was finished, Tessa would’ve been on her last month of her pregnancy, and it’d only take a week to return.

“And then my caravan was ambushed. Bandits in the night, thinking our wagons were laden with gold and goods. It was…” He pauses, and his eyes glaze over in distant revere. “A brutal fight. If I had my lightsaber, I could’ve made quick work of them. But all I had was a sword and a blaster, and my friends were dying left and right. Between the horrible future of my child growing up without a father, and my secrecy as a ‘guardian spirit’…I used the Force for the first time in two years.”

“You didn’t have a choice,” you reassure him. “I might’ve done the same.”

“Perhaps, but little good it did. The bandits’ weapons, their swords and crossbow bolts…poisoned. It was a neurotoxin, derived from nightshade. My Jedi training kicked in, and I was able to dodge them all. But my caravan wasn’t so lucky. When the skirmish was over, I was the last man standing. And from the leader’s corpse, I took a purse full of gold, and a kill contract with my name on it, and the seal of a high priest.”

You draw in a sharp hiss of breath. “Assassination. But who would’ve…” Thinking hard, you manage to deduce the obvious culprit: “Ithil.”

To your surprise, your master shakes his head. “Ithil was already dead by then.”

Before you can ask as to how he knew that, something else clicks into place. “No…Pyris?”

"We’re getting there. But the fact of the matter is that the caravan was dead. I snagged one of the assassins’ horses, and rode hard and fast back to du Lac’s Hollow. I could feel the Force whispering in my ear, telling me that something terrible had happened in the months since my departure. I barely rested, nearly killed my mount trying to get back home…”

(cont.)
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He exhales roughly, taking a moment to sooth his parched throat. Coughing as the drunk goes down, he mutters, “Damn. I haven’t spoken this much in a while. And to think we’ve got a conference with the rest of our Jedi this afternoon. My throat’s gonna be a mess.”

“A conference,” you repeat slowly. “You’re calling a summit?”

“Yes.” Larid massages his throat, coughing twice before he’s able to smooth his voice out. “Everyone is going to be in attendance, the younglings, Arotta and Kosa, even Riven since he’s taking care of Noirah. Your brother Torok is going to be there, as is Aure. He’s out on rotation to get his starship fixed, and we have Aure on a very secure and private tightbeam. The future of the Order is the subject at hand.

“But that’s not for another…five or six hours.” He waves his hand as if swatting away an errant thought. “We were speaking about my return to du Lac’s Hollow. And the bad feeling in my gut that only intensified as I drew to the outer boundary of the village…a week’s journey compressed into three days.

“Eira found me at the edge of the forest. She was there at a campfire clearing to meet someone, but that didn’t matter because I was here. She was glad to see me, babbling about how the mines finally ran dry. And that Ithil made the decision to use an unprecedented mountain of explosives to expose a new vein…”

Suddenly, Larid surges forward, and grabs your arm in a vice-like grip. And his eyes are wild and manic, even as his voice is eerily even: “The miners blasted too deep, Farren! In their desperation to secure the future of du Lac’s Hollow, they dug too greedily into the bowels of the planet. And what they awoke in the darkness beneath Mynydd Morgen…!”

Much as you’d like to tear your arm away from your master, you don’t move, out of concern (and fear) for him. But you can feel a mounting dread pooling in your stomach at his words. “Master…what did they find?”

He seems to return to his senses. Blinking, he releases your arm, shivering as he returns to his seat. Reaching into his breast pocket, he holds up a small, metal disc. It catches the light as he tosses it to you, making the tell-tale noise of a coin. “Thirty miners died, and the tunnels nearly collapsed. But they found the new vein they desperately sought…and the site of a subterranean temple, filled with riches and treasures beyond their wildest comprehension.

“That coin in your hand was only one out of a great horde,” he says venomously, “They brought the treasure up by the cartload. Everyone got at least a souvenier, and Eira took hers out of her pocket to show me…”

He doesn’t finish his sentence. It takes you a moment, looking at the coin, frowning at the hexagonal shape stamped onto the disc. And when you realize what it is, your heart nearly stops, and your blood turns to ice.

In your hands is a coin of the True Sith Empire.

(cont.)
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Your attention returns to your master. There are a thousand questions on your lips and the dread in your stomach has nearly seized you completely. But before you can ask anything, your master beats you to the punch with his own bitter commentary.

“The irony wasn’t lost on me,” Larid says with an acerbic tone. “That after two years of abstinence from the Jedi Order, the ancient foe was kilometers beneath my feet this entire time. I laughed like a madman, nearly scared Eira out of her wits. The Force has a very strange sense of humor, Farren, stranding me on Catref and abandoning the Jedi Code for a life with Tessa. But in that moment, as the coin caught the light of the full moon, I understood why I was sent to that planet.

“For one night, and one night only, Jedi Shadow Brethon Larid returned to the hunt.”

His story robs you of words. All you can do is sit in awe and concern as your master loses himself further in his recounting of what turned him into the man he is today.

“Eira climbed onto my back, and I ran back to the village. She told me many things that happened in the time since the unearthing of the temple. Ithil decreed that the temple was a holy site, and imposed a lockdown on du Lac’s Hollow. None of the other settlements could learn of it and steal the treasures. No one was allowed in or out until he’d taken full account of the temple’s contents. No orders would be given to recall the diplomatic caravan, much to the protest of several families, the Ceryll’s included. Pyris was charged with translating all the books, scrolls and hieroglyphs on the walls while the miners turned away from their pickaxes and became salvagers instead.”

Larid shakes his head. “And only weeks later, Ithil died. Heart attack in his sleep, a far more merciful death than what he deserved. Pyris was sworn in as the Pontiff of du Lac’s Hollow, but Eira said that he’d changed. Became colder and more detached, no longer the well-meaning, awkward priest, and now strutted about as if he was the gods’ gift to the galaxy.

“Ever since he started reading the books, his sermons became filled with more sinister overtones. The militia began to militarize, and Owain had become a junior lieutenant. The temple had to be protected upon the pain of death and war. Visitors that were caught sneaking out of the village were lynched by an angry mob. All according to Pyris, who claimed that one book in particular contained great revelations about their existence in the universe, and how they would all be the heralds of great change upon Catref.

“When I asked about the rest of the family, Eira nearly cried. Owain was a lost cause, taken in by the teachings (indoctrination) that the priests gave to the soldiers. Tseri couldn’t give a fig about treasure, but Eliden became obsessed with the gold, and turned the franchise into a war machine pumping out weapons for the soon-to-be-army.

(cont.)
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“And Tessa…she was planning an escape. The three of them, Tseri, Tessa and Eira, would make their escape as soon as my child was born, or whenever I returned home first. The authorities in Avalonia would have to be alerted to the danger and unrest growing in du Lac’s Hollow. It was no longer safe to stay.”

Larid pauses, considering a mystery as he holds his glass up to the light. “Everything was in place. The child wouldn’t be born for another few weeks, but they were ready to leave when I returned home. Tseri, for all her reservations about me, was elated when I snuck through the backdoor. The militia had been planning to kill the diplomatic caravan upon their return. They couldn’t risk the purity of their faith being ‘contaminated’ by outside ideas, even if brought back by their neighbors.”

Your eyes widen, then narrow. “Pyris.”

Your master nods. “So that’s two attempts on my life, but I managed to get myself and Eira back into town between the patrols of the soldiers. And we were ready to all go…but Tessa wasn’t there. She had gone out during the day to the market, purchasing grain for the draft horses under the pretense of bread ingredients. But she was late by an hour when I returned, and Tseri feared the worst as the night began to unfold.

“I had them barricade themselves in the basement while I searched for my wife. Under no circumstances were they to open the door for anyone, not even Eliden or Owain. And after sealing them in, I had one stop to make before I began the hunt in earnest.

“The Force guided me to the wreckage of my ship, a hundred feet deep and only somewhat scattered in the years since my landing. I took a boat out to the lake, closed my eyes, balanced myself, and reached out into the murky depths…and my lightsaber answered, and flew into my hands. To feel it in my hands once more was like reuniting with an old friend. Somewhat rusted, but still functional enough for one more long night of fighting.

“I kept to the dark places, snuck around the corners and alleys between the houses, listening on the conversations of the soldiers. Tonight, was to be a great night of renewal. Pyris had been in communication with the god of the temple. A sacrifice would be made, and the blessings would follow. One of the soldiers, his eyes burning with fanatic zeal, was so very pleased that his sister would be the offering, and her unborn child the one spoken to unite Catref under the banner of the god. He and his father would be remembered for generations for their contribution to the cause.”

Your eyes go wide with horror, and Larid isn’t completely able to hold back his emotions through the bond. Rage slips out, potent and heady. “…I nearly killed Owain. I barely recognized the boy I considered to be my younger brother. But I had a location. Eliden had stopped Tessa on her way back from the market, and Owain and his troops had taken her to the mines as a sacrifice.

(cont.)
>>
“I descended the tunnels. I spared those who didn’t see me, but for those who did, I cut down without mercy. I think I was operating both as a detached Jedi Shadow and a vengeful husband in equal measure. The mindset admittedly blurred together at parts, Farren. But I made it into the temple proper. I knew it for what it was. There was Sith iconography everywhere. If Ithil hadn’t sent me on the diplomatic mission, I could’ve been here to stop it, bury it with high-yield explosives..."

His fist clenches tightly, and he shuts the bond between you once more in an attempt to put a leash on his temper. “…but I could still stop this ritual and save my wife. The temple was littered with traps and puzzles, but I managed to break into the central amphitheater. Pyris was there, whipping a congregation of his most faithful and zealous cultists into a frenzy. And shackled in chains on an altar before a bottomless pit was Tessa. They’d dressed her in white, flowing robes, and exposed her belly to the elements. And even from a distance, I saw what they carved into her flesh…”

Larid points a finger to your arm, and directs a burning gaze at the malformed mark on the back of your hand. “That very same rune, I saw seared across Tessa’s stomach. The Brand of a Hero, the Sith Lord called it. He said so as much when he manifested in before the congregation’s eyes…”

All of a sudden, you feel very, very cold. A chill goes up and down the length of your spine as phantom pain pricks at the nerves in your hand. The memory of the Storyteller, both when you dueled the Revenant during the uprising, and the more recent encounter with a shard of his power…

“…pages,” Larid says, cutting through your thoughts. It comes out as nearly a monosyllabic grunt. “Pages, Farren. You asked why I was so concerned about pages. But the book in Pyris’ hands, a tome made by Sith Alchemy, opened, and the pages flew out into the air. They danced around the temple, then started to gather behind Pyris.

"They came together, and started forming shapes: first a torso, then arms and legs. And as the pages stuck together, they ceased existing as parchment and vellum and became like flesh and blood. Kind of like those old space gypsy stories about djinn, but instead of gas and star vapor, pages of a book.

“And the Dark Side…I’d never felt anything so potent or abnormal. The tunnels were already claustrophobic enough, but I felt my throat closing at the sheer pressure exuded as the “god”, in actuality a Sith Lord, manifested in the temple. This was an evil beyond anything I’d ever been trained to face, something ancient from a distant, more powerful time. It would take a team of masters to fight him, but there was only washed-up Shadow turned family man.”

He pauses, closing his eyes and drawing a shuddering, raspy breath. “…so I charged forth to save Tessa, and made peace with the fact that my death would save them.”

(cont.)
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kaz, kazigger, kazzy, why do you insist on blueballing me this way? Everytime I open this thread Im able to get to my metaphorical edge but you stop before the release.
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>>4810590
We must suffer as Larid has suffered.
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>>4810544
Larid falls silent. He’s unable to meet your eyes, and his hands fall limply to his side. The only mark of any passage of time is the drip, drip, drip of an adjacent faucet. But the worst part is the guilt, the pain, deep and dark and drowning that permeates through the link. Your vision goes blurry, and your eyes are damp as tears run down the side of your face.

And when your eyes meet, there are no further words that need to explain. There is only one way for the fairytale romance between the Shadow and the Priestess to end, and it is of tragedy. The only question is the circumstances that lead to the penultimate climax of the story.

“…I fought my way through the congregation,” he says after what feels like several hours, “Pyris started screaming, calling me a blasphemer for intruding upon the ritual. But the Sith merely laughed, ordering the pontiff to deal with me as he saw fit as he continued the ritual. The faithful weren’t worth a damn, and for all their wyndur armor, it was no match for my lightsaber. But it was a slog to fight through them all. There must’ve been dozens gathered for the ritual.

“It got to the point where I was nearly at the upper dais. But as I was about to strike at Tessa’s chains, Pyris, he…he raised his hands. The Force almost seemed to scream as he channeled a bolt of lightning and hurled it towards me.”

“Pyris was Force-sensitive?!” you demand, and miraculously, your voice doesn’t crack.

“No. When I reflected the lightning, it seared the fancy Sith cultist robes off his back. And I saw a page of the Sith Lord’s book, sewn into his flesh. It throbbed in conjunction with his heartbeat, and brightened whenever he attacked me with the Dark Side of the Force. A gift from his dark master, a small measure of his power bequeathed to his new high priest as a conduit.”

You recall the memory of the Revenant blasting you with Force lighting during your duel in the Opulent palace. Was that her own power that she drew from? Or did was she like Pyris, stalking the galaxy with pages sewn onto her body? Judging from how Larid shifts uncomfortably, he’s more than likely reached the same line of thinking.

But your master coughs, continuing: “Well, he made for a poor conduit. He only managed a handful of bolts before he lost control of the power. The page burst into flame, and quite literally burned the pontiff from within himself in a brilliant conflagration of the Dark Side. He died cursing me, saying always hated me for stealing the woman he loved…but he’d never forgive me if I failed to save her.”

He shakes his head. “Now, there’s a proper hypocrite. He expected me to forgive him as he turned into a pile of ash? After all that Eira told me he had done to my wife, and du Lac’s Hollow? That’s a sick joke. Not that I had the time to spit on his corpse...but I made it to the altar. And I'd just cut Tessa down when the Sith Lord moved."

(cont.)
>>
Quests are a form of interractive fiction
>>
>>4810826
Larid’s fingers tremble as he moves to refill his glass. “There isn’t any way to describe the difference in power. He flung me back, and I felt my ribs crack from the sheer force of impact. Tessa screamed, but then the Sith had her by the neck. I didn’t get his face or a name, but he said that he was greatly moved by my courage. And that he was willing to make a deal not with a Jedi, but a concerned parent.

“He admitted that he only wanted our child, a daughter. And that I could take Tessa and leave the temple. He would raise her to become a great hero, the likes of which hadn’t been seen since the years of Naga Sadow. A grand destiny lay before her, so much so that he’d taken to giving her a portion of his power. He assured me that he didn’t seek essence transfer, but merely a place as a spiritual guide.

“Or better yet…with Pyris little more than ash, I could take his place and join the Sith’s cult as its herald and pontiff. The bastard, he actually encouraged me to join. My child’s education would be rounded by both the Light and Dark Side of the Force. She’d receive the best of both worlds – a Sith’s power tempered by the control of a Jedi. Tessa and I would have a valued place in the new regime he would make…

“…and if I refused, he’d simply snap Tessa’s neck, and disintegrate me. It would set him back, but he could wait. He said he’d been waiting for thousands of years. What were another few to someone like him?”

The look on his face is one of utter helplessness. “The will to act, Farren. Why do you think I trained you so hard, made every moment of exercise unconventional and needlessly complex? I had twenty-eight years of training, but I was paralyzed with indecision. Every second I spent agonizing over the decisions…”

He doesn’t need to elaborate further. Every curveball, every sudden and unexpected spike in difficulty was to ensure you remained vigilant and not complacent. So that you wouldn’t make the same mistake he did all those years ago.

Larid scoffs bitterly. “But the choice was made for me. I don’t know what caused the Sith to loosen his grip, but Tessa saw an opportunity and took it. She tore out of his grasp, and lunged for the book that his body had come out of. It took both of us by surprise, but I could feel my legs already moving. The Sith wore a mask, but I could hear his snarl and grinding teeth as we clashed in the darkness of his temple.”

Silence, once more in the Bantha. But the link speaks volumes what words cannot, transmitting a potent sorrow, and an utter sense of self-loathing and guilt. Even as you're seated, it nearly knocks you off balance.

“…it happened too quickly,” he whispers. “I lost sight of everything except for the foe. I was about to Sever Force through my lightsaber, and the Sith was gathering the energy to rend my flesh. My wife, she had the book and came between us to intercept his attack-”

(cont.)
>>
Larid is unable to maintain his composure. Your master buries his face in his hands, and shudders uncontrollably as he relives the worst night of his life. The shields of his mind come crashing down, and the wave of despair hits you like a tsunami. You struggle against it, even as your tears begin to fall in sympathetic reaction.

“The attack…it worked,” he croaks hoarsely, “…I cut his connection from the book, even as my lightsaber ripped through Tessa’s back, and the bolt of energy meant to kill me turned her skin to glass. The Sith was screaming, howling in fury as the pages of his body began to flake away. But I couldn’t care less. She was teetering at the edge of the bottomless pit. As the book fell from her nerveless fingers, and tumbled into the darkness, I caught her just before she followed suit and disappeared.

“She…she just gave me a sad smile. I tried lifting her up, but the Force power I used took almost too much out of me. I felt her dying, and I pleaded with her, begging for her to just hold on. And if I was too weak to support us both, then I would die with them. Tessa, she…said that she loved me, and that it wasn’t my fault that I couldn’t save her. And then, from a combination of both extreme fatigue and bloodied fingers…”

His voice trails off into nothing. His fingers play with the chain, moving from the locket, then his ring, ending with the small, thin band of silver. Inlaid in the metal, delicately etched around the silver, is a garland of wildflowers. “…the locket with her hair, she gave it to me just before my caravan journey. But the ring…was all that was all I pulled up from the pit.”

“Master Larid,” you whisper in an utterly devastated tone of voice. “I’m…I’m so sorry!”

“There’s no need for you to be, Farren.” The mental shields come slamming back down, and he manages to keep a stiff, upper lip. But there’s no missing the redness in the corner of his eyes, even as they narrow into furious slits, and his fist tightens into a white-knuckled grip. “Because it’s thanks to you, I know that the bastard is still alive. Storyteller, was it? And with the power I’ve accumulated since then, I’ll finally be able to avenge my wife and destroy him for good.

“Yet…that isn’t the end of the sorry tale of Ari the Off-Worlder,” he says bitterly, “I don’t know how long I laid there, gasping for breath and trying to gather my energy. Eventually, I had to make it back up to the surface. And when I stepped off the lift, I took my first step into the closest thing to hell in the galaxy.

“The Storyteller, when he disappeared…I don’t know how, but his dying rage seemed to infect the entire town. Or at least, his most faithful, or the ones who came into close contact with his artifacts. du Lac’s Hollow was burning as an orgy of violent madness engulfed of the population.

(cont.)
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>>4811031
> But there’s no missing the redness in the corner of his eyes, even as they narrow into furious slits, and his fist tightens into a white-knuckled grip. “Because it’s thanks to you, I know that the bastard is still alive. Storyteller, was it? And with the power I’ve accumulated since then, I’ll finally be able to avenge my wife and destroy him for good.
AH FUCKING SHIT!
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>>4811052
We need to get him laid, stat.
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>>4811061
Clearly, a trip to the Toffer's in order.
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>>4811061
Anon this isn't dick wetting territory. This is chronic oneitis territory of the Skywaker level. And we, whether we meant to or not, probably set it off again with this new information. Depending on how this might turn out, this route is gonna take Laird so damn close to the dark side that they're gonna play fucking paddy cake.
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>>4811080
Whatever we do, we CANNOT tell him about U'haon.
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>>4811080
>this route is gonna take Laird so damn close to the dark side that they're gonna play fucking paddy cake
I didn't think I would feel bad for Malorum of all people, but if he rocks up on Larid he's in for a world of hurt.
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>>4811086
I honestly doubt Malorum would get a chance to realize what the hurt was. From what you've said he's a jobber, and Larid would just obliterate him and continue on.
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>>4811091
>and Larid would just obliterate him and continue on.
He will, that's why I feel bad for him.
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>>4811083
Let's hope that we can actually keep that secret anon. Copious amounts of bluff skill upgrading is gonna need to be involved.
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>>4811098
I mean, he has no reason to believe that we know where to find the Storyteller, does he? At the meeting we should just mention that our mother told us where we might find other Jedi and leave it there. That isn't a lie, and if anyone catches on to the fact we're omitting something, we could reveal that we also learned of our homeworld.
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>>4811031
"Owain and Eliden were the first to see me exit the lift, them and a mob of cultists. I tried pleading with them, but they were wide and yellow-eyed, frothing at the mouth as they charged me. The Force sustained my exhaustion, but I barely had the energy to conjure more power to lift a box of tissues. Trying to Sever Force would’ve outright killed me, and there was no guarantee that it would work.”

His eyes are empty, devoid of emotion as his gaze meets yours. “…once again, I weighed my options. Saving my brother and father-in-law and potentially killing myself, versus fighting my way to the Ceryll household, where at least Tseri and Eira were safely barricaded. This time, I didn’t hesitate. I made it quick and painless. That was all I could do for them.”

You blink, utterly shocked at the emotionless declaration of what he had done.

“The code of the Shadows was a small comfort to me that night,” he grunts, “I didn’t see it as butchering my family and neighbors. Ari was slowly returning to Brethon Larid, Jedi Shadow and sworn enemy of the Dark Side. My master would’ve called it ‘a course correction’.

"But as I cut them down, I was already planning for what I’d do once I got Tseri and Eira out of the house. We’d hitch the wagons and make a fast break for Avalonia. That much, I could do. I could at least save two people. Just two people, Farren…two people out of the hundreds that had given into the madness…”

Larid runs a hand through the mess of his hair, exhaling a heavy breath as if the weight of the world had been on his shoulders. “A mob of frenzied cultists had gotten to that neighborhood. I don’t know why they spared Owain and Eliden. Maybe because they’d also fallen victim to the madness.

"But the Ceryll household was ablaze. And among the corpses, I recognized Tseri immediately – even in death, the tight bun she’d kept her hair in didn’t come undone. And Eira…poor, little Eira…the little leather jacket she was so fond of wearing…”

It’s all too much. He doesn’t make any noises, but tears stream down his face. “…it was so, so hard to stay sane. So hard to not otherwise fall. I had to actively go out of my way to dehumanize them, change my perception of the mob to where I wasn’t avenging my family as much as serving the Light by culling the Dark. Two people…I couldn’t save them…couldn’t make amends with Tseri or take Eira on another adventure…

“…I didn’t know if it was airborne, or merely mental pollution,” he grimaces, wiping the corner of his eyes. “But I couldn’t take the risk of them spreading it or harming other settlements. My last tie to the life of Ari was torn to shreds and dangling from pikes. That night, when I killed all of the infected in du Lac’s Hollow, was when Brethon Larid truly returned to the galaxy.”

(cont.)
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>>4811122
If we were a more skilled liar than we are now then I'd be cool with it. Right now the only consistently winning move concerning information security is shutting up about that.
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>>4811132
Ah, fuck, he's gonna try to kill his daughter if he sees her, isn't he?
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>>4811150
Ah, fuck, he's gonna try to kill his daughter if he sees her, isn't he?
YEP!
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>>4811150
>>4811152
She's a little old to be his daughter, isn't she?
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>>4811156
Sith alchemy is a hell of a thing anon.
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>>4811161
How did she get out of the pit? How did she stay alive in the pit, and the fall, and being born out of a mangled and burned corpse? He did say he only found Eira's jacket, maybe he's leaving something out but that's not her hair or something like a ring that wouldn't come off so easily crawling out of rubble.
>>
And here we thought getting out of Space Nam made us hardcore
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>>4811166
See
>>4811161
>>
>>4811182
>And here we thought getting out of Space Nam made us hardcore
You aren't based until you get a woman to fall in love with you then murder her I guess.
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>>4811182
Oh don't get it wrong, we're hardcore. But in the war veteran flavor. Not the survivor flavor.
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>>4811166
That's why I'm considering the possibility of a clone or otherwise. 50% is a curiously high AND low percentage match from a mangled sample.

I'm wondering if the Revenant is literally held together with pages, animating the remains of wife and child together.
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>>4811132
“…you killed them all?” you whisper, even though you already know the answer.

“Aye, I did, but only the ones that were infected…which was to say most of them. The young and the old, the men and the women…” His mouth thins into a very faint line. “Do you want an exact number, Farren? I made sure to tally the corpses the following morning when I burned them all.”

You shake your head. “…what did you do with du Lac’s Hollow and the temple?”

“I did what I would’ve done if that bastard Ithil hadn’t sent me away. Only I didn’t have to worry about collateral damage with everyone dead. I loaded all of the mine carts with as much explosives as I could, lit long fuses and sent them barreling into the mines to trigger a catastrophic cave-in. I destroyed the lifts and triggered a rockslide that buried du Lac’s Hollow under thousands of tons of stone. I made sure that even industrial mining equipment would never be able to unearth the temple even after I left.”

So that’s where he gets his tendency for overkill from, you think quietly to yourself.

He continues, “I took a horse and rode to Avalonia. Plague had claimed the Hollow while I was on my diplomatic caravan. And I managed to…convince the high priest and administrators to turn their orbital batteries onto the planet. Three instances of Jedi Mind Trick were all it took to wipe the settlement off the face of the planet with plasma weaponry. I couldn’t chance it.

“And then, by sheer luck, I found a key that led into a room in a temple, in fact a repurposed hangar of the Prydwen that they turned into a mausoleum. The shuttle I found was barely space-worthy, the navicomputer a malfunctioning wreck. But I managed to get it up onto the surface, and fired up what little fuel it had left. By the time they noticed I was gone, I was already halfway through the atmosphere with the planet to my back.

“The rest is nothing special,” he finishes with a rueful shake of his head. “In spite of the bum computer and starcharts thousands of years out of date, I managed to make my way back to civilized space. Took me a bit to reach the Jedi Temple, but I answered all the questions the masters had for my disappearance. Yoda wanted me censured and expelled, but Vibum interceded on my behalf, and argued that the experience was a great trial, and that I had emerged all the more stronger as a Jedi Shadow. Six years later…I took you as my padawan, and fulfilled the promise your mother left to me.

“And that’s it. That’s my life’s story. I could go on about my childhood years with the others, but that would be a waste of time. If you have any questions, ask them now. If not…” he glances towards the empty bottles, and wipes the corner of his eyes. “I need to take the time to...compose myself for the summit.”

>>Do you have any questions or commentary for Master Larid?
>Custom option. [Write-in]

[OPEN FOR TWELVE HOURS]
>>
>>4811534
How many of the masters would it take for an even chance against the storyteller?

Are the pages hard to damage? I've got a neat trick to show you for some good book burning.

The black hole you mentioned sounds familiar. We might have to concern ourselves with some chain wielding force sensitives
>>
Damn, our Jedi grandpa was ugly as fugggg.
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>>4811534
>>Custom option. [Write-in]

What's the Jedi equivalent of offering to smoke a blunt together?
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>>4811534
>>Custom option. [Write-in]
Go Cook.
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>>4811534
In the gallery, when the Revenant lost her mask, she was screaming about her family, or more specifically, her brother, sister, mother, and father. Most interesting to me was how she mentioned her father working at his forge, and how there was no mention of two sisters. I don’t think she knows you’re her father.

I’m afraid of the answer, but I have to ask: what is your plan to deal with her?
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>>4811061
This is history 30 years in the making, anon. In the time he's been our Master, Farren has seen him seduce all manners of beauties, human and alien. This isn't about dick whetting, this is personal business, plain and simple.
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>>4811578
>Damn, our Jedi grandpa was ugly as fugggg.
Racist.

>>4811901
>or more specifically, her brother, sister, mother, and father
If she was Larid's daughter, why would she mention a brother and a sister? This is Occam's razor at his finest. And how would she have been brought up? If you just say "Sith Alchemy" again you're putting in the same amount of effort in thinking as "somehow, Palpatine returned."

>>4811534
>Custom option. [Write-in]
>>Yoda may have had a point, it's been so long and despite his service as a Shadow, he still hasn't gotten over it. Refuse to let him deal with the Revenant and say we'll get the other Masters involved if he tries.
>>He only mentioned Eira's jacket, and he tallied the bodies when he burned them. Were there any remains? What about the person she was supposed to be meeting that night?
>>Reassure him that nothing we have in the way of romance is that deep or entangling.

I want to inquire further about spirits, but this probably isn't the time and I know we know more than average, being a Shadow, but idk how much we could ask.
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>>4812100
DNA test still has a 35% match to him. If it was Eira, there'd be even less of a match since she's not related to him.
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>>4811534
>Has he found any other True Sith artefacts on his travels which might give us an idea of what The Storyteller might be planning next now we know he apparently needs to follow certain steps for his plan
>Maybe try suggesting that when it comes to dealing with The Revenant that we should be the one to handle it while he deals with The Storyteller
Killing the guy that killed your wife and turned your family crazy is one thing, deliberately hunting for your daughter and murdering her is another. Even if we can't turn her keeping Larid's hands (relatively) clean is important as well.

And congrats Kaz, that was peak suffering right there.
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>>4812100
>spoiler
Nope, Sith Alchemy still involves more thought, for example:

>Turn Tessa's corpse into pages and stitch them into the kid to keep her alive
>Write the pages in a way that it rewrites what she is, ie Storyteller's Revenant instead of XXXX Larid
>Cause her to go insane and obsess over following instructions to the letter because she's literally half fucking book and has been wrote that way
Is it stupid? Yes. But at least it's mildly thought out stupid.
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>>4812111
>Laird only has a 35% match
>Usually a child has genetic information from both parents
>That means that we got 15% UNKNOWN
Welcome to jurassic ass. Where the mad scientists fill in the gene sequence gaps with their own genetics!
Even more horrifying idea, what if the wife's body was "kept alive" with dark side energy, thus turning her into a incubator for the Revenant? This is potentially entering some spooky ass shit and I ran out of booze for far too long.
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>>4812111
>DNA test still has a 35% match to him
Incorrect >>4804748
>A full 50% of the Revenant’s DNA matched to the hair of my…my late wife.”
What he said was that the initial sample could only be 35% analyzed.

>>4812124
>Turn Tessa's corpse into pages and stitch them into the kid to keep her alive
How could he have accomplished that if he was also made of pages?
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>>4812127
Larid mentioned that our skin flakes got mixed in with the saber'd helmet. That's probably the missing 15%...

Unless...

We're also her daddy?!

>>4812132
Reread this sentence, anon.

>Eventually, he fishes out a slip of paper from his robes, and tosses it onto the table. “…my DNA wasn’t enough. I…I had to use a second DNA sample as a reference.”

Relevant sentence is “…my DNA wasn’t enough."

That means yes, his DNA was part of what makes up the Revenant. It's not only his wife DNA.
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>>4812139
>Larid mentioned that our skin flakes got mixed in with the saber'd helmet. That's probably the missing 15%...
I was thinking more towards the Storyteller having to infuse the babby with it's own essence. Completely forgot about how our skin flakes got mixed in, that's my bad.
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>>4812139
>That means yes, his DNA was part of what makes up the Revenant. It's not only his wife DNA.
No, it analyzed 35% then stopped, it couldn't analyze any more. It matched 50% with his wife and didn't match with him.
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>>4812151
Yes, it stopped at 35%. When it stopped comparing his recorded DNA that was already in the computer with the Revenant's saber'd helmet, Larid then had to use his wife's hair to get a better match. He didn't have to start from the beginning again.
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>>4812173
get a better match* in conjunction with his wife's DNA.

Fucking hell, me...
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>>4812151
so who's the other 50% percent?
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>>4812151
>>4812173
>>4812174
Anon’s, how about we ask, “Are you sure you saw Eira’s body, or was it just her jacket? Because I want to be sure it’s your daughter that’s the Revenant.”

Is that possible, Kaz? Could we add this into >>4811534’s question list?
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>>4812229
Yeah, sure. More than possible.


At any rate, I’m out of town today, and I can feel a head cold creeping it’s way up to my sinuses. So no update today, but I’ll have one outlined when I return home tomorrow. Really liking the wild theories about the Revenant.
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>>4813025
>I can feel a head cold creeping it’s way up to my sinuses.
Oof. Hope you get over it quick, I'm currently on a triple dose of benadryl thanks to allergies.

>Pics
I can't wait to see how these two look when they're done!

I just thought of this, but any chance you can get a picture of Ingmar the bartender?
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>>4811571
>>4811901
>>4812100
>>4812112
>>4812229

>>How many masters would it take for an even chance against the Storyteller?

Larid shrugs, grunting, “Hard to tell. I was only a Knight during our fight, but he wasn’t operating at full power due to the ritual. Granted, he still threw me across the room hard enough to crack my ribs. That aside, at the very least…two masters at the minimum, with at least one with a developed and honed talent to Sever Force.”

“You walked away from the temple,” you counter, not unkindly. “Even if your power was only at the level of a Knight, you still managed to defeat him.”

“And the price I paid was too damned high.” His mouth twists into a scowl. “And I didn’t even kill him. Two masters at the bare minimum, maybe even the maximum. You know what they say about too many cooks in the kitchen. I want to avoid paying a similar price for the next confrontation.”

>>Are the pages hard to damage?

“They’re sundered easily enough with a lightsaber…for all the good that does. If I sliced off an arm, slashed through his torso, or cut off a head, pages from the book would simply replace the damaged connections and reform into flesh-and-blood simulacra.”

You nod slowly, raising your hand. Larid frowns as you gather the Force in your fingertips, then blinks as a small mote of flame dances along your fingertips.

“I believe that I have a more permanent solution for that, master,” you say with a small grin.

His perplexed expression turns into one of feral anticipation. “Fancy trick you got there, Farren. I don’t think I taught you that one, though.”

You snort, extinguishing the flame with a shake of your hand. “Courtesy of the late Grand Shamanka Bos.”

“…then it seems I’ll be paying a visit to the Communion of Spirits sooner than I thought.”

>>We have a problem with some chain-wielding Force sensitives.

To your surprise, he takes that in surprising stride. “Bring it up in the meeting. That way, you won’t have to tell it too many times.”

>>Have you found any other True Sith artifacts on your travels to give an idea of what the Storyteller might be planning for next? He seems to be following certain steps.

“I was forbidden from looking into anything about the bastard,” exhales the Shadow roughly. “Because at the time, we all thought him dead.”

“Not that it stopped you, I think,” you quietly offer.

“Not in the Force-damned slightest.” The faint outline of a grin tugs at his lips, but it disappears just as quickly. “I made discrete inquiries, even tried committing what I saw in the temple to paper, then to the droids in the archives. Nothing, Farren. Absolutely nothing.”

“But the coin…” You still have it in your hands, the souvenir that Eira had showed Larid upon his return. “You identified it as belonging to the True Sith.”

(cont.)
>>
“I did. And I cross-referenced images we had of Sith currency we had on record. Earliest images places the coin at the tender age of just under five thousand years old.”

>Farren takes 8 on a Knowledge [Sith] check!

You squint at it, recalling the relevant information of that time period. “It was minted during Great Hyperspace War?”

“A little bit after, considering the emblem of the Resurgent Empire, but yes. From both the carbon dating and the fact that the Storyteller name-dropped Naga Sadow, I tried searching through all the plundered relics we took in the counter-invasion. I found nothing among the dusty books and malfunctioning holocrons.”

That’s certainly a surprise. “What about during the Great Galactic War? That’s the time when the ‘True Sith’ were at their most active, given the fact that they’d…well, returned.”

His smile is humorless. “Again, absolutely nothing. And I made sure to listen repeatedly to Master Gnost-Dural’s observations and treatises of the Sith Exile.”

“Then our predecessor must’ve missed something,” you venture, “It wouldn’t be the first time that our archives were incomplete.”

“Perhaps. There is, however, another option as to the dearth of knowledge or mention of this Storyteller. Either it’s what you said, and the Jedi of the past weren’t able to completely fill the archives with Sith Knowledge. Regrettable, but perhaps inevitable given five thousand years of history and how much is so easily lost.

“Or alternatively,” he adds, and his expression darkens, “The Storyteller went out of his way to erase himself from the annals of history. And given how the Sith go out of their way to leave their mark upon the galaxy, that possibility concerns me greatly.”

You shiver. “So…what exactly do we know about the Storyteller?”

Larid chews on that, fishing out his pipe to stuff a generous amount of tobacco before lighting it with a match. He takes a deep breath, puffing out an acrid plume of smoke as he visibly relaxes. “The way he spoke of Naga Sadow…it wasn’t that of an academic looking back on something he read in a book, but as if he’d actually seen or met the man. The Storyteller was alive during Sadow’s Sith Empire...”

At the expectant look he gives you, as if encouraging you to continue, you think…and then answer: “He escaped Korriban on the Exodus Fleet, and made it to Dromund Kaas with the Sith Emperor.”.

“Correct. That’s the only way I could think for him to have all those coins from the True Sith Empire…” your master pauses, taking another hit from his pipe. “…but then that raises the question of what or who he was during the early years of the True Sith.”

“He’s a Sith of great power,” you say, thinking aloud and hard about how best to extrapolate. “…and status, considering the riches described in his temple. He must've been important in the time of the Great Galactic War.”

(cont.)
>>
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“Before the Great Galactic War,” he gently corrects you, “The lifespan of a Sith is only two hundred years. The Exodus Fleet prioritized the younger generations, so if the Storyteller managed to get himself aboard, he would have been very young at the time. And from there, two hundred years, even with the Force prolonging his life…”

“He would’ve been ‘dead’ long before Darth Malgus retook Korriban for the Sith,” you conclude. “Right. My bad.”

“No worries. But, I digress. Beyond guesswork about his life, he’s displayed an obsession with heroes and stories. Dragons, too, if his last meeting with you was any indication. Yet I couldn’t even begin to tell you the steps for his plan.”

>>The Revenant was screaming about her father and mother, sister and brother. And the fact that her father was working the forge, but no mention of two sisters. I don’t think she knows you’re her father.

He seems to be genuinely surprised. “…that’s…very strange. But what was she doing on Amagi?”

“The Storyteller sent her there,” you recall, “Something about ‘bathing in the blood of the Jedi’, among other ramblings about what he’d written in an alleged ‘third chapter.’”

“And she didn’t know who you were in relation to me? Neither her or him?”

“As…far as I can tell, no. I was ‘a warrior with golden blades in the tomb of his sister’. And that I was supposed to be wielding golden blades. But I’d taken out Kristen’s on accident. It agitated her that I wasn’t using both golden lightsabers to the point where she went after Kristen’s teal.”

“Mnh. I fear that you were too intensive in your combat. Next time, don’t slice through her respirator and contaminate the filter with slag.” Then, he frowns, adding a fresh pinch of tobacco to his pipe. “But they didn’t know your relationship with me. I’d call it a coincidence, but the Force does not allow such things.”

>>I hate to ask, but what’s your plan to deal with her?

His face darkens. “…I haven’t forgotten my duty, if that’s what you’re asking. My workload’s only increased between Darths Sidious and Vader, now Storyteller and the Revenant.”

“You would kill your…daughter?” But even as you ask the question, something in your gut doesn’t sit right with how you phrase it. Not that Larid seems to notice. He bristles violently at the question.

“Dammit, Farren!” Your master shakes his head. “I know that she’s the enemy. But she’s also been twisted by the Dark Side. The fact that all signs point to her being an unwitting victim as opposed to being a willing participant are granting her a stay of execution. Let me ask you this: why’d you save her when she nearly tumbled out the window?”

You frown. Why had you saved her, almost cooking your arm in the process? “…because I saw a girl in desperate need of help. I couldn’t just let her fall, even if she tried to kill me."

(cont.)
>>
“I thought so. So long as there’s a chance for redemption, we’ll do everything in our power to take her in alive. But if she revels in destruction and suffering…then we’ll take the appropriate actions, Farren.”

“As for Sidious and Vader?” you ask dryly.

“Last time I checked, they aren’t related to me,” answers Larid.

>>Are you sure you saw Eira’s body, or was it just her jacket? Because I want to be sure it’s your daughter that’s the Revenant.

It takes a moment for the feeling in your gut to actually become a coherent question. And when you ask it, the pipe falls out of your master’s mouth. “Farren, what…?”

“When she was screaming, master,” you reply cautiously, “She screamed about a father and mother, sister and brother, begging for their protection from ‘their gazes’. Unless I misheard your stories, that describes the Cerylls – Eliden and Tseri, Tessa and Owain…and sure, you were a blacksmith with a hammer and anvil, but so was Eliden…”

Eyes widen in horrified understanding. The Force bond shudders with discomfort, then is quickly doused by cool self-assurance. “I…can see how you’d see it that way. On Cartref, they don’t have a word for ‘uncle’ or ‘aunt’, much as I tried to teach it. If…the temple had never been discovered, and my child had been born, she wouldn’t use ‘aunt or uncle’ when referring to Eira or Owain.”

That’s very odd indeed, but the feeling in your gut doesn’t quite abate yet. “…so what would Eira or Owain be called?”

“Elder Brother Owain, or Elder Sister Eira,” Larid answers smoothly, frowning. “Or as close to an approximation as that. There’s a specific suffix that comes before the noun for ‘sibling’ that denotes ‘sibling of my mother/father’. Which…would be uncle or aunt, but they don’t have a single, unified word for that kind of relation. But she was speaking in Basic?”

“Accented Basic, yes…” You aren’t nearly convinced. And much as you’d like to ask, the subject’s a powder keg about to go off in your face. “Master, I understand this might be a difficult question, but I have to be sure. When you reached the Ceryll household and the…erm, mob. Are you absolutely sure it was Eira? Because you only just said her jacket…and you tallied the corpses-”

Through the bond, you feel a growing rage. It’s reflected in his eyes. His hands clench and Larid hisses angrily, “Do you want the grizzly details that badly? The mob tore her arms and legs and head off, and drove the pike up her digestive tract. Same as her mother and all the neighbors and their kids, but depending on the mob, it either went through the front or rear entrance! The jacket flapping in the inferno from the mutilated mess of her torso is the only way I knew it was her, Farren. I don't want to think of what they did to her head, and I didn't want to find it and taint my memories of her smile with depravity and pain!"

(cont.)
>>
Well fuck
>>
sadpepe.gif
>>
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>>4815706
Actually, before I write the next part of this...let's see how good Farren's skills at deductive reasoning are.

Sure, your perspective is a breath of fresh air for Larid, but only so far as you're willing to let it be...

>>Roll 2d6+2 Cunning (+2 Stat)
>Best out of three.
>>
Rolled 5, 3 + 2 = 10 (2d6 + 2)

>>4816327
Farren a smrt
>>
Rolled 1, 3 + 2 = 6 (2d6 + 2)

>>4816327
I happen to be an expert on this topic
>>
Rolled 4, 2 + 2 = 8 (2d6 + 2)

>>4816327
>>
Rolled 2, 4 + 2 = 8 (2d6 + 2)

>>4816327
Bowling for lolZ
>>
Rolled 4, 3 + 2 = 9 (2d6 + 2)

>>4816421
This is how you Zoz
>>
I’ve honestly forgotten how the dice system for this quest works, it was high rolls with crits right?
>>
>>4816542
6+6=crit success
1+1=crit fail
>>
>>4816556
And crits apply even if they weren't the best roll ie. we might roll two 5's and two 1's on separate rolls, and even as the fives make us succeed, the ones will cause a complication.
>>
>>4816332
>>4816351
>>4816368

>10

“…but what if it wasn’t her?”

Larid freezes as if you’d knocked the wind out of him. But his eyes narrow sharply. “…explain yourself.”

“You said that her head was missing,” you hurriedly assert, “And you didn’t go looking for it. All that was left in the final tally was…her torso. But barring a DNA test, you can’t say with absolute certainty that the corpse with the jacket was Eira.”

“I can,” snarls your master, “It would be a cold day in hell before she would ever lend the jacket to anyone else. She went everywhere with it as soon as Tessa had made it for her!”

“And you’re absolutely sure she’d never part with it? Master, you said that it wasn’t just Tseri that the mob killed. The whole neighborhood, including their children!”

Glass shatters as Larid slams his fist onto the table. The metal surface groans, visibly warping from the impact, and a wave of anger radiates from the bond. “If you’re trying to make me feel better, then you’re doing a piss-poor job of it. Because entertaining the possibility that my sister-in-law is the Revenant is a joke in very bad taste, Farren.”

Somehow, you don’t flinch as he stares you down. But you have to swallow first before you can speak: “I’m only trying to make absolutely sure, master. But the jacket. She never took it off?”

“Don’t be pedantic, Farren. She made a habit of wearing it wherever she went. Six months of allowance went into the leather and red dye, and she was damned proud of herself, even if Tessa was the one who stitched it all together. So unless it was raining, horrifically humid or a scorching, summer day without a single cloud in sight, she’d have the thing on her back.”

You’re onto something now. “Was Eira wearing the jacket when you met her in the outskirts of the village?”

Larid suddenly frowns. A look of consternation passes across his face as you can see the gears turning in his head. And in your master’s eyes, you see a sudden understanding. “…no, she wasn’t.”

Bingo. “How come? You said yourself that she was proud of wearing it.”

His gaze is distant as he recalls a memory, half-mumbling, “She only ever took it off if she was up to trouble. Made it easier for her to sneak around the village or run away from chores.”

“She didn’t want to be caught sneaking out into the woods,” you deduce. Then, you frown as you recall what he said earlier. “But…she wasn’t there to wait for your caravan. Who was she meeting?”

“…the thought never crossed my mind,” he admits, cursing underneath his breath. “I was so focused on Tessa that…I don’t know, I thought she was meeting what few friends she had for a playdate. Dammit.

“But that still doesn’t change the fact that someone had been wearing her jacket,” counters Larid. “And it’d be a cold day in hell before she lent it to someone, let alone another child.”

(cont.)
>>
>>4817415
So maybe Eira gave it to another child, hopefully safe with Tseri, while she sneaks into the temple to try to help her big sister.

.....and she ends up trapped inside after Larid blows the whole mountain down. Trapped with the Storyteller.
>>
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>>4817415
“Yes, master. As you’ve told me.” Yet for your snark, you have no immediate answer or explanation. “Maybe she gave it to another child, maybe she didn’t. But you can’t discount the fact that there’s a nonzero chance that Eira could very well be the Revenant.”

“…again, Farren,” he grunts as he settles back into his seat, kicking his boots up onto the table. “You’re doing a really shitty job of making me feel better.”

Not that either of you would be too triumphant in winning this game of wits and logical deduction. If Larid’s correct, then his sister-in-law died a brutal, horrific death at the hands of a frenzied mob. In spite of the wonky DNA, the explanation of his daughter makes the most sense from Larid’s perspective of events.

But if you’re correct, then the last member of his family is alive and somehow escaped the mob. And that in his state of grief, failed to take the appropriate steps to confirm her death, and left her to the tender mercies of a Sith Lord.

Both possibilities are equally horrible and cruel in equal measure to your master.

>>You aren’t going after the Storyteller or the Revenant. If you do, I’ll get the other masters involved.

Larid’s face turns an ugly shade of red, and the veins in his neck strain with tremendous effort. He makes no attempt to mask or even dampen the mounting fury passing through the bond. “How dare-!”

“Master!” you say sharply, cutting him off before he can yell, “Forgive my rudeness, but aren’t yourself. And I’m not one to often agree with Master Yoda, but in this instance…he’s right. It’s been nineteen, almost twenty years since the tragedy, and you still haven’t gotten over it.”

“How very easy for you to say, my very young, former padawan,” he spits through clenched teeth, “When the deepest, emotional connection you’ve had with a woman was a sex friend. Chastise me only after you’ve either deepened your relationship with Arotta, or have found another woman you want to spend the rest of your life with, and then lose either to horrific circumstances beyond your control.”

It hurts to hear him say that. “All I’m saying is that I’m…concerned for your wellbeing.”

His eyes twinkle with a mirthless, sardonic amusement. “Thank you very much, Farren. But I’d like to think that I’d did a good enough job of ‘getting over’ my wife’s death. You saw firsthand with all my 'friends' at every port of call. You had to learn your proclivity with women somewhere.”

“Only one woman!” you protest, then pause…and think about it. “…okay, two at the most.”

THAT catches him off guard. “Two? I understand Arotta, but who’s this second woman?”

“It’s…complicated,” you mutter, dragging a hand down your face. “Really complicated, but I have it under control. Besides, we aren’t talking about me, master. We’re talking about the fact that-”

(cont.)
>>
By my count Kaz, there was one vote for telling Larid we'll prevent him from going after them, & another saying that he should face the Storyteller and we'll take on the Revenant.

Tie breaker?
>>
>>4817592
Might be doing both, sort of like
>You're not going after the Storyteller or the Revenant
>Fuck you Farren he killed my family you little shit
>Fine then but I'm handling the Revenant and that's fucking final
>>
>>4817415
>>4817472
Isn't the fact that the Revenant didn't test positive for Larid's DNA but tested positive for Tessa a dead giveaway that Revenant isn't his daughter? The ages match up better too if it was the sister.
>>
>>4817825
Not necessarily. I said that the sequencer stopped at 35% of the Revenant's corrupted sample. And of that sample, 50% of it matches with Tessa's hair. Interestingly enough, 50% is both the average amount of DNA that a parent-child and sibling-sibling relation share. Although with siblings, the range can go from 38% to 61%.

That, and Larid is fervently hoping that the Revenant is his daughter. Because if she's his daughter, then he had no control and couldn't have done anything to save her since Tessa fell into the pit. But if she's Eira, then he made a horrible mistake that he could've prevented if he wasn't caught up in his grief. Then again, hindsight is 20/20, so...
>>
>>4817472
“I’d gotten over it in the ignorance that I had succeeded in killing the Storyteller,” he interrupts in a supremely flat voice. “But I don’t want vengeance. I want justice, and an end to a galactic threat that’s just as dire as Sidious and Vader. The fact that the Storyteller only happened to murder the love of my life and my extended family is only a footnote on that.”

“And I’d believe that if you didn’t declare that you’d be getting vengeance for Tessa,” you counter. “Master, please admit that it isn’t business as usual as much as it’s settling a personal grudge.”

He growls, but acquiesces. “Fine. It’s very personal. Supremely, even. But I haven’t forgotten my obligations to the Order, if that’s what you’re asking. I'm not blind to the fact that we need to find a safe haven for the younglings, train a new generation of padawans, and undermine the Empire at every given turn.”

There’s only a small amount of strain in the smile you give him. “I’m glad to hear that-”

“But make no mistake,” Larid cuts in with a frosty glare, “You have a lot of guts to tell me what I can or can’t do, Farren. Especially when you’re cutting into a decidedly Larid-Ceryll family affair.”

Force help you. Throwing your hands up in exasperation, you wearily retort, “I got involved when the Revenant tried to kill me in the galleria. I’ll let you go after the Storyteller, but you’ll leave her to me. I defeated her once. I can do it again.”

For a moment, he looks like he might argue. His chest puffs up, then deflates as he waves his hand dismissively. “Acceptable. But you swear to me right here, right now, that you’ll share any news that you get of either her or the Storyteller.”

“All I ask that you do the same, master,” you answer as you extend a hand.

He takes it, but pulls you in close. And with his mouth above your ear, softly whispers: “And not a word to Kosa or Aure. This is both Shadow business and a family affair.”

You hesitantly nod. “And what about Ceyla? Or your future padawan.”

“…if the need arises, and only if.”

>>And don’t worry about my romance with Arotta. It’s…there, but we’re only starting to explore a more serious relationship.

Larid quirks a curious eyebrow, then scoffs. “Make sure that you don’t let yourself get too distracted, Farren. You don’t have the luxury of being marooned to deepen a romance.”

If you rolled your eyes any harder, they might’ve fallen out of your sockets. “I haven’t forgotten my duties or responsibilities either.”

“Take care that you don’t.” He stands, signaling the end of the discussion. “…and if you get up into ‘sparring’ again, take care that you close the door and try to keep quiet. Wouldn’t want to give Ceyla a bad impression.”

Too late for that, you think, cringing inwardly at how she reacted to Ingmar's interrogation.

(cont.)
>>
Still, you won’t end the discussion without giving the last word, edgewise. “I’ll do a better job than you did, in that regard.”

Larid chortles at that. Through the bond, you can still feel an underlying tension, coiling as if a serpent waiting for the moment to strike. But there’s a levity in his gait, and a mask of witty sardonicism that hides his inner conflict. “It’s the master’s hope that the disciple will become an even better teacher. I would hope that you’d be more discrete than I was.

“Now git. I need a moment to flush all the alcohol out of my system and clean up the ship. The summit’s in six hours in the Bantha’s cargo hold. Don’t be late.”

With that, the discussion is over. You’re politely shooed out of the ship, down the ramp and back onto outside. You blink, readjusting to the light of the morning sun, and take in a deep breath of fresh air. That discussion…was certainly tense. A great many things were said, and you now have a very different outlook on Master Brethon Larid. The heartache and loss, the fury and anger…the tragedy does certainly explain his more…abrasive eccentricities.

Storyteller and Revenant, you think to yourself, starting the walk out of the drydock. It seems that the universe has no shortage of trouble, or any restraint when it comes to piling issues upon your plate.

But with the day open before you, you have six hours before the summit. When you left the Albatross Ceyla had still been asleep, snoring and drooling into her pillow. Hopefully, she’ll notice the instructions you gave her, and continue her study of the Jedi Shadow treatise.

>>Please select one(1) of the following:
>Check in with the Mercantors and the {Globus} to see how they’re adjusting.
>Help the local militia flush out a recently-excavated Tof panic bunker.
>Inquire about hiring additional crew/companions for the {Albatross}
>Pay a visit to Arotta and take her out for some fresh air in the Spaceport.
>Return to the {Albatross} and meditate. [SKIP TO THE SUMMIT]
>Custom option. [Write-in]

[VOTE OPEN FOR EIGHT HOURS.]
>>
>>4817947
>Check in with the Mercantors and the {Globus} to see how they’re adjusting.
See if they might be interested in either starting up a winery, an ice shipping business, or using the Tof base (when it’s unoccupied) on the Chiller as a possible insurgent base.
>>
>>4817947
>>Inquire about hiring additional crew/companions for the {Albatross}
We need more friends.

Also, Kaz. What are the clones up to?
>>
>>4817947
>>Help the local militia flush out a recently-excavated Tof panic bunker.
>>
>>4817947
>>Pay a visit to Arotta and take her out for some fresh air in the Spaceport.
>>
>>4817947
>Check in with the Mercantors and the {Globus} to see how they’re adjusting.
>>
>>4817947
>>Help the local militia flush out a recently-excavated Tof panic bunker.
>>
>>4817971
Clones are, for the most part, staying put on the Globus. They're just waiting for Cooper to get used to his new cybernetics. Commander Skipp's in the middle of drafting training exercises to develop the independence of the rest of the Clones. Right now, trying to get them up to ARC-Trooper level of coordination and talent. Alpha-class levels of mentality is still a long ways away.
>>
>>4817947
>>Check in with the Mercantors and the {Globus} to see how they’re adjusting.
>>
>>4817947
>Check in with the Mercantors and the {Globus} to see how they’re adjusting.
Have to see how Larrid's new apprentice is coming along.
>>
>>4817947
>Check in with the Mercantors and the {Globus} to see how they’re adjusting.
>>
>>4817947
>Check in with the Mercantors and the {Globus} to see how they’re adjusting.
>>
>>4817955
>>4817994
>>4818243
>>4818252
>>4818336
>>4818581

>>Later, on the {Globus}…

“I hope you don’t mind the clutter,” Admiral Mercantor says as you step off the shuttle and into one of the many hangar bays. Behind him, an honor guard of B2 droids stare at you ominously, but make no threatening movements as their master moves to greet you. “We’ve made some progress in repairing the damage from Kakarit, but it'll take some more time.”

“Perfectly understandable,” you reply, and you wince as your voice echoes across the metal surfaces.

His scared visage softens, and a grin pulls at the corner of his mouth. “It takes some getting used to. But come this way. There’s a reception room not too far, where you can speak as you will without fear of echo.”

“Will your wife…erm, Commodore Mercantor,” you hastily correct, “Will she be joining us?”

He shakes his head. “Unfortunately, not. Octavia is feeling under the weather. There’s something in the air of this planet that’s irritating her sinuses.”

“My sympathies.”

“I’ll be sure to pass them along. Now, follow me…”

Now that he’s had nearly a week to recover from his coma, Admiral Laurentius Mercantor has returned to the rank afforded to him. There’s a certain gauntness in his cheeks, and a stern, weathered visage marred by scars. It is offset, however, by a cool, sardonic professionalism more common with the rank-and-file than a flag officer. And within which hides a warmth reserved only for his loved ones, which you saw firsthand upon his awakening.

It’s honestly a damned shame. From the story Octavia had told you about the battle over Kakarit, he seems to be a capable officer plagued by incompetent or hasty junior staff. Whose mistakes had cost him the battle when their reckless charge had backfired. In another life, the two of them might have been heroes of the Republic.

The room you’re taken too isn’t too far from the hangar, not even a five-minute walk down the circular corridors that comprise the ship’s circulatory system. It’s large enough, easily capable of housing a small meeting of at least two dozen individuals at the table that dominates the space. Mercantor dispels the droids with a wave of his hand, and they lumber off to stand guard at the entrance.

“Please have a seat, Jedi.” The reaches for the cabinet, pulling out a wine bottle and a pair of crystal glasses. “Would you care for a drink?”

You accept, but ask that he pour only a small libation. “I’ve got a meeting after this one. If not, I’d accept your unabridged hospitality.”

“Of course.” He swirls the glass in his hand, tasting the air and fumes released by the agitation. “…a good year. Aged to perfection.”

You accept the offered glass, clinking lightly against his as you take a light sip. "...my compliments to the vintner."

"My grandfather, Porcius. He planted the vines that produced the grapes for this bottle."

(cont.)
>>
“You did mention that your family owned a vineyard,” you recall.

Ave, that we do. We do not produce much, but the wines of the Plinius vineyard reach far and wide across the Outer and Mid Rims. A time-honored heritage passed down from one Plinius to the next.”

You quirk an eyebrow. “I thought your last name was Mercantor?”

He smiles the smile of a man about to reveal the punchline of a joke. “Mercantor is Octavia’s family. Prior to our marriage, I was Laurentius Plinius Secundus. My elder brother was bound to inherit the vineyard, so I enlisted in my homeworld’s navy as soon as I was of age.”

“As an officer?”

“No, Spaceman Second Class. The absolute bottom.”

Both eyebrows are raised at that. “And now, you are an admiral!”

A flash of amusement passes in his eyes. “Perhaps no longer, given our desertion and subsequent flight into the Unknown Regions. But yes. At one time, I was an admiral.”

Small talk. Both of you know that the discussion is far from the pith of the matter. And yet, you can’t help but indulge yourself after the unloading that was Master Larid’s life accounting. Granted, the heart of the matter is just a check-in and check-up just to see how they’re settling in. Nothing too serious, light-hearted and absolutely therapeutic for the soul.

“You must have worked very hard,” you say, taking another sip.

Mercantor (Plinius?) smiles wryly. “And had some help from interested parties. My accomplishments prompted the higher-ups to pluck me out of the ranks of an NCO, sent me to officer’s academy, and had me commissioned as an ensign…all at the tender age of thirty. I was older than most of my classmates by over a decade then, but I brought practical experience to the war games to trounce the bluebloods who sneered at my pedigree…or lack thereof.

“And as it just so happened, I was T.A.-ing the Strategic Warfare Practicum at the same time Octavia had accepted a junior officer’s commission. That was our first meeting, a little slip of a young woman seething in fury as I trounced her in the simulated battles.” He pauses, considering something. “Jedi, I must ask you something.”

“Please, call me Farren.” Now that you get a closer look, there's a definite age to the admiral. Not as old as Master Larid, but still approaching the better side of forty. “I’ll answer to Gaelle during the heat of a battle.”

“Very well, Farren. You have female Jedi in your ranks, but I’ve noticed that the Republic does not allow women to join the Grand Army.”

“No,” you confirm. “…barring a few exceptional cases. But given how most of the G.A.R. are Clone Troopers of a male bounty hunter…”

“Of course. On my homeworld, women are allowed to fight. Both on the frontlines, as well as up in orbit. Octavia’s bloodline, the Mercantors, has provided Lupa with many soldiers. And she was determined not to be an exception as firstborn and heir.”

(cont.)
>>
How fascinating. “She’s certainly lived up to it. Down in the jungles of Kakarit. We all wouldn’t have been able to make it off the planet if not for her.”

“But of course,” he says, smiling knowingly as he refills his glass. “That is Commodore Octavia Pullo Mercantor.”

Perhaps there’s an unspoken word, or a shift in either of your postures. But the time for small talk has come and gone. Much as you’d like to further know about Octavia’s years in military school, you still have ongoing matters to attend to the Separatist Remnant.

“How are you feeling?” you ask.

He shrugs, tapping the side of his head. “Nothing beyond periodic migraines. And they’re decreasing in severity as the days go by.”

That’s good to hear. “And the commodore?”

“Stressed. Between trying to find the materials to both replace the droids we lost on Kakarit as well as building an outer-ring hull for the Globus…and all that on top of an upcoming pregnancy.” Mercantor pauses to direct a dry look, almost as dry as a desert. “…one that you announced unexpectedly.”

That’s too kind of a way to put it. You scared her half out of her mind only after she’d gotten back her husband. Nervously, you grin and say, “Yeah, I’m…that’s my bad. But let’s bury the hatchet and move on to the next topic at hand.”

“Which is?”

“Your plans, admiral.” You lean forward intently. “Now that the Clone Wars are over, and the Republic’s now an Empire…what’re you gonna do now?”

He doesn’t immediately answer. Mercantor mulls on the question and contemplates his glass, eventually saying: “Originally, we’d return to Lupa. Failing that, raid any number of bolthole hideaways to replenish our supplies, or otherwise reunite with the CIS remants and continue the fight against the Empire.” He gives you a funny look. “The Supreme Archon, actually, messaged me with an offer to join the M.S.D.F. and instate me with the rank of Admiral. They’ve got plenty of air commanders and infantry commanders, but not a whole lot of actual space navy.”

That doesn’t surprise you as much as it should have. “But have you decided on any course of action, then?”

“No. The Globus is more Octavia’s ship than mine. And she’s just involved in the decision-making process as I am. But as it stands, with the baby on its way, it’s best if we just stay put here. Then, and only after, will we be able to discuss a proper course of action.”

>>Do you have anything to add or possibly influence his decisions?
>Advocate for them to join the M.S.D.F. and form the backbone of the fledgling nation’s navy.
>Enlighten him to the possible benefits of having a partnership with a Jedi.
>Reassure him that he has six months, plenty of time, to mull over the decision for what to do.
>Wish him the best of luck on finding the other Separatist Remnants in known space.
>Custom option. [Write-in]

[VOTE OPEN FOR EIGHT HOURS]
>>
>>4819480
>Advocate for them to join the M.S.D.F. and form the backbone of the fledgling nation’s navy.
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>>4819480
>3 and 4
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>>4819480
>>Advocate for them to join the M.S.D.F. and form the backbone of the fledgling nation’s navy.
>>
>>4819480
>Advocate for them to join the M.S.D.F. and form the backbone of the fledgling nation’s navy.
>Reassure him that he has six months, plenty of time, to mull over the decision for what to do.
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>>4819480
>>Reassure him that he has six months, plenty of time, to mull over the decision for what to do.
>>
>>4819480
>Advocate for them to join the M.S.D.F. and form the backbone of the fledgling nation’s navy.
>Enlighten him to the possible benefits of having a partnership with a Jedi.
>Reassure him that he has six months, plenty of time, to mull over the decision for what to do.
Basically do a sales pitch but make it clear that we're not pressuring him. Also point out that since the separatists were also being puppeted by the new empire their boltholes are probably known about and watched
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>>4819480
>Advocate for them to join the M.S.D.F. and form the backbone of the fledgling nation’s navy.
>Enlighten him to the possible benefits of having a partnership with a Jedi.
>Advocate against visiting CIS boltholes, Sidious was the master of Dooku after all.
>>
>>4819480
>Advocate for them to join the M.S.D.F. and form the backbone of the fledgling nation’s navy.
>Advocate against visiting CIS boltholes, Sidious was the master of Dooku after all.
>Reassure him that he has six months, plenty of time, to mull over the decision for what to do.
>>
>>4819480
>Advocate for them to join the M.S.D.F. and form the backbone of the fledgling nation’s navy.
>Enlighten him to the possible benefits of having a partnership with a Jedi.
>Discuss the idea of starting a winery on Amagi, either as a front or an actual business.
>Reassure him that he has six months, plenty of time, to mull over the decision for what to do.
>>
>>4819480
>Advocate for them to join the M.S.D.F. and form the backbone of the fledgling nation’s navy.

>Reassure him that he has six months, plenty of time, to mull over the decision for what to do.

And like that anon said, point out that the remnants of the seperatists are likely watched/absorbed by the empire, since it was created by palpatine (if we know that IC)
>>
>>4819480
>Enlighten him to the possible benefits of having a partnership with a Jedi.

Mostly 'cause I'm quite curious as to what benefits those might be, given the current state of the Jedi Order.
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>>4819480
>Advocate for them to join the M.S.D.F. and form the backbone of the fledgling nation’s navy.
>Advocate against visiting CIS boltholes, Sidious was the master of Dooku after all.
>Reassure him that he has six months, plenty of time, to mull over the decision for what to do.
>>
>>4819480
>>Enlighten him to the possible benefits of having a partnership with a Jedi.
>>Reassure him that he has six months, plenty of time, to mull over the decision for what to do.
Sending him after CIS holdouts and boltholes right now is pretty much suicide. We could be the ones to scope things out contact and then, if things look kosher, point the Globus towards them. The Reconquest moves quickly though, nothing but the Western Reaches Insugency and Gizor Dellso's holdout on Mustafar survived past 18 BBY.
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>>4820616
+1 telling him we'll check out the boltholes. Hopefully we'll find a couple of neat prizes or people in there that Amagi could use...
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>>4819497
>>4819524
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>>4819554
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>>4819589
>>4819607
>>4819653
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>>4820741

“There’s no reason why you can’t still be ‘Admiral Mercantor,’” you posit, lacing your fingers in a pensive expression. “And before you ask, I’m not on Keimann’s payroll.”
Mercantor gives you a bemused smile. “He did mention that you played a significant part in the revolution. But the thought never crossed my mind.”

“Of course. But to digress, I’m merely saying that you could do a lot for the Mylar Star Alliance.”

“I could imagine,” he easily replies, reclining slightly in his chair, “But you have to understand that my duties are first and foremost to my family, then to the Separatist cause. Even once the babe is born, I couldn’t in good conscious commit to fully deserting Lupa to the mercy of the Empire.”

Hadn’t Octavia gone and said something similar? Regardless, it seems that both of them are at least biased in favor of returning to known space. But in your humble opinion, it would be nothing short of suicide, and the first foot in the grave for the downfall of your splinter faction.

If the commodore knew who Tarkin was, then what was stopping him from making similar enquiries? At least one of Master Kosa’s Venator’s escaped Kakarit to warn the Empire of Jombaral. It would be a simple matter to cross-reference intelligence data, and deduce who had been commanding that particular flotilla. Not only would they be wanted on account of being Separatist officers, but for the fact that they snubbed Tarkin and escaped a quarantine.

And from what Skywalker told you about him, the man’s an absolute bloodhound when he sets his mind on something. The Mercantors would be living on borrowed time if they returned to the Separatist remnants. They were strong people, but all it took was applied pressure to the right weakness…say, a baby…

Of course, you say none of these things so bluntly. First, the carrot will be applied. Smiling uneasily, you offer, “Look, I’ll let you in on a little secret because you deserve to know this. The Emperor…former Supreme Chancellor Palpatine, yes?” When he nods, you continue, “And your leader was the late Count Dooku?”

“Where are you going with this, Farren?” he queries with a frown. “If you wish to rub salt into the wound…”

“Of course not!” you retort, almost insulted. “When he was still among the Jedi Order, then-Master Dooku inspired me to take a duelist’s perspective to lightsaber combat. I respected him greatly, even if I disagreed fundamentally with everything he became after he left the Jedi.”

You take a moment to compose yourself. Mercantor offers his remorse, hands raised in mollification. “My apologies.”

Grunting, you reply, “Don’t worry about it. It's all in the past...but just as it happens, same as where I'm going with this line of thought.

(cont.)
>>
“To the Jedi Order, Count Dooku was Darth Tyranus. A Sith, but ultimately an apprentice. We received intelligence from him prior to the first Battle of Geonosis that he was in service to a Dark Lord of the Sith who had control of the Republic. This Darth Sidious colluded with Viceroy Nute Gunray to kick off the Naboo Crisis…”

You pause. “I won’t waste your time outlining the full extent of how many pies Darth Sidious had his fingers in. But I’ll tell you two things. First, Sidious was the master of Tyranus, and the hidden, but ultimate authority of the Separatists. Second, Sidious’ public identity is that of the former Supreme Chancellor Sheev Palpatine. Who was not only the representative of your enemy, but the one orchestrating the entire war this whole time.”

That was the only conclusion that you and Master Larid could have come to. Without Dooku’s testimonial, it might have seemed that Palpatine had opportunistically seized authority when he’d gotten too drunk on the emergency powers granted to him by the Senate. But with the late Darth Tyranus’ information, combined with the footage recovered from the temple, it makes a very disturbing, dark sort of sense that Palpatine’s plan had been a very long time in the making.

Mercantor’s eyes widen as his thoughts reach a similar conclusion. “No! That…” He cuts himself off, squinting at nothing as he thinks about it. Then, he continues in a decidedly somber voice: “…that makes far too much sense. But how do you know of these things? I’m not accusing you of lying, but I must know…”

“I’m a Jedi,” you answer, deciding not to share too much. “I use the Force and know things.”

His eyes narrow, but he doesn’t make any further issue of it. “Octavia spoke highly of your actions on Kakarit. Hence, I will trust that you are not lying to me.”

Hard to believe when all you’d done is elevate her blood pressure whenever you did something reckless or stupid. But you take it for what it is. “Look, if I was in your place, I’d want to go back too. But with the Empire consolidating, and the other Separatist remands not being so…subtle in their hiding, it’d only bring you three a world of trouble.

“And look,” you offer tentatively, “If it makes you feel better, I could go scope things out for you and Octavia. Figure out which of your boltholes is known to the Empire, or Sidious at-large.”

“You would do this?” asks an incredulous Mercantor.

“Yeah. I’ll add it to the itinerary. I’m good at keeping a low profile. And please, keep in mind that I’m not trying to pressure you. Just offering my perspective and giving some context to your choices.”

The admiral gazes at you, long and hard. Then, laughs quietly to himself. “Now I see what my wife meant when she said that you’re not unlike any Jedi she’d ever heard of or met.”

(cont.)
>>
…you decide to take that as a compliment.

Mercantor replaces the bottle, draining his glass until it is completely empty. “You’ve given us much to think about, Farren. Six months are certainly a long ways away, but I’m fairly sure that Octavia and I will be able to make a decision a little bit before then...”

>>Later…
>>Cargo Hold of the {Boss Bantha}

A Jedi Sojourner’s original purpose was to ferry Knights and their padwans on long journeys of training and meditation. The Living Force was their guide through the stars, calling to their next port of call or where they were needed. Holocrons were a common cargo, with a space in the ship dedicated for large gatherings to meditate, practice their lightsaber forms, or otherwise deepen their connection to the Force.

How Master Larid ended up with one in his possession is a story he still hasn’t told you. But he’s certainly overhauled much of it to suit his (and your) needs as a Jedi Shadow. There’s the stealth systems, the reliquary containing both Jedi and Sith holocrons, on top of the plaid button on the cockpit’s dashboard to triple sub-light speed. The mystic who originally commissioned the ship from Kuat Systems Engineering would certainly have been horrified at the extensiveness of the changes.

In the gathering room, where Knights and padwans would have come to gain insight and understanding, all of the survivors have gathered for a summit to decide the future of the Jedi Order.

Master Aure is the only exception, by virtue of not being physically present. The campaign on the Chiller has reached a critical moment, and the M.S.D.F. are preparing to siege the main settlement. But she is here via holoprojector, flickering in the dim limelight of a secure tightbeam. And it’s more than reasonable for her to not otherwise be present, as leader of a crack team of special forces.

But beyond her, everyone else is here, albeit admittedly cramped. The younglings are seated on the floor, shifting nervously and whispering to each other when the others aren’t looking. Ceyla stands apart, taking her place by your side as you settle into your own chair. She waves hesitantly to her friends, then joins you in scoping out the rest of the room as the others file in.

Torok has a bandage around his head that hadn’t been there when you left. But your fellow Salamander’s face lights up as he spots you. He has enough presence of mind to not shout your name and rush for a hug, but grins and takes the seat closest to you.

“You’re missing a good fight on the Chiller,” he says clapping a hand on your shoulder. Ceyla jumps at the noise, even as you nearly buckle over from the enthusiasm packed into it. “You couldn’t have put your Trial of Spirit for another few weeks?”

Coughing and adjusting your robes, you answer, “Maybe, but you were always the better pilot. I can’t nearly do all the tailspins and physics-breaking maneuvers you can do.”

(cont.)
>>
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He snorts at that, but his jovial demeanor quickly recedes. An uncertain look crosses his features as he lowly whispers, “…it’s good to see you back, brother. I feared that I wouldn’t get the chance to thank you for your testimony.”

You frown, puzzled at what he could have been referring to. Then, you remember what you had said to Master Larid prior to your departure. As well as the sour emotions that curdle in your stomach. “…think nothing of it. I only spoke the truth. It was…a rough day for both of us.”

He grimaces, and the whites of his teeth show for the slightest moment. For a moment, he looks like he might say something, but it recedes in his throat as the next pair of guests arrive…and is replaced by naked surprise. “Bashur?”

True to form, Arotta is at the door, the only blemish on her the sling holding her arm. Your togruta lover seems to have recovered enough to walk without much in the way of assistance. But there’s no missing the slight way she leans against the wheelchair she pushes into the room. Its occupant, one Master Kosa, is still a ways away from returning to her full health, but she no longer looks like an emaciated skeleton. Even if you sense the unease of the younglings at her thin frame.

Your eyes meet. The flat line of Arotta’s mouth softens. Her lips part, then close as she offers you a nod, and a smile. Your heart skips a beat as you return her gesture, and she moves to secure Kosa’s seat at the front of the room. The bond you have, not nearly as deep or profound as the one you share with Larid, throbs with a mutual sense of ease and comfort.

Torok didn’t miss the exchange. Then you recall that this is very much likely the first he’s seen both Kosa and her apprentice. Your brother looks slack-jawed, eyes darting to Arotta, then you in rapid succession. And instead of asking for clarification, such as when they got here or the circumstances of her arrival, all he can do is ask: “When did that happen?”

“When did what happen?” you ask innocently.

“Don’t give me that, brother! You know, that…” He pauses, gesticulating wildly. “…I could’ve sworn that you two were on the verge of killing each other in a spar taken too far. Now you’re all making nice and smiling…”

You pause, considering whether or not to tell him the truth. Kristen, you suspect might have known about the prior relationship you and Arotta had. Not so much with Torok. He lavished far more love on his spaceship and R3 droid to pay attention to inter-personal drama. But it would make sense for his perception of Arotta Bashur to be negative given the frosty relationship you had observed prior to the hospital talk.

Then, you shrug, and non-committedly answer, “I’ll tell you about it later. But in summation: Trial of Spirit. As well as…burying the hatchet and our old rivalry to turn over a new leaf.”

(cont.)
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Ceyla coughs a tad bit too harshly. And then Torok peers around you, as if seeing her for the first time. Then looks back to you and grins. “Jedi Knight Farren Gaelle, then?”

You smile in return. If Master Larid’s words were true, then you wouldn’t be the only Salamander turned Knight by the end of the week.

Beyond that, the rest of the Jedi survivors file in an orderly fashion. Sha Koon’s entrance is accompanied by the whispers of the younglings. One even seems to mistake her for her uncle, Plo Koon. But the Kel Dor makes little note of it. Soon after, Noirah Na follows through the door, held open by a helpful Riven.

“I’m fine,” Nah protests as she moves to her seat. “Riven, I have a broken collarbone, not a concussion.”

“You heard what Doc said though,” counters the mechanic with a twinkle in his eyes, “No moving your arms above your elbows. The kolto still needs some time to fuse your bones back together. So sorry, miss, but those’re the doctor’s orders.”

She huffs indignantly, and for a moment, you forget that she had seen the Clones gun down her master. Nah doesn’t nearly match the image of a hopelessly lost padawan that Master Larid had painted for you. “There’s no need to be so formal! You’re only two years older than I am.”

“Can’t help it, miss. My folks raised me among the squalor of the lower levels to have at least some fancy airs. Just so I don’t offend any prospective customers or short-tempered gangsters.”

“Well, you aren’t on Coruscant anymore!”

“Old habits are hard to break, miss.”

“Force help me, now I know you’re doing that on purpose…”

As a few of the younglings giggle at the back-and-forth, Master Aure frowns slightly as Riven hovers behind Nah’s seat. The zabrak crosses her arms, and drawls, “Look, kid, we appreciate your concern for Padawan Nah. However, this meeting is Jedi-only. If you like, you could take a seat and wait outside for us to finish...”

A voice, one you easily recognize: “He’s my plus one, so don’t worry about it, Aure.”

Enter Master Brethon Larid. He’s certainly cleaned himself up since the morning’s revelations. He’s shaved, for one, and tamed the wild mess of his hair. And for the first time in recent memory, the Jedi Shadow wears the traditional tan-brown robes of the order.

At the front of the room are three seats, arranged in a horseshoe formation as an informal mimicry of the High Council Tower. Larid is the last to take his seat, settling in between Kosa’s wheelchair and the platform holding Aure’s holographic image. In an instant, all whispers and distractions cease as the three masters survey the room and its occupants.

The summit has begun.

“Thank you all for coming,” your master says, as serious as you’d ever seen him. “All of us have gathered here to reflect on the recent events concerning the Jedi Order, as well as discuss the future for our little splinter faction.”

(cont.)
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Kosa stirs from her wheelchair. Clearing her throat, she gazes at everyone before speaking, “But before we begin, I think it prudent to observe a moment of silence. Out of respect for all of our fallen brothers and sisters.”

The hologram of Aure rolls her eyes, but ultimately agrees. “It’s gotta be quick. I’m not sure how long I can keep the tightbeam going with this godawful blizzard.”

Larid acquiesces, and bows his head. The room is filled with a quiet rustling of robes and cloth as everyone observes a mournful silence. Some of the younglings repress sniffles, and you can even see a lone tear trailing down your padawan’s cheek. But your fist clenches, tightening at the countless Jedi robbed of their lives by the machinations of the Sith.

The moment passes, and all attention returns to the front and the three masters.

“While most of you are already aware of what happened, it bears repeating,” intones Larid. “The Jedi Order as we know it, is no longer. The High Council has fallen. Our temple on Courscant has been pillaged and plundered. The Clones, formerly thought to be our loyal soldiers, turned their guns on their Jedi leaders without any warning whatsoever.”

Even through the tightbeam, you can hear the bitter scorn in the way Aure spits. And you don’t miss the way Torok’s breath goes very still. A look is shared between Kosa and Arotta, then with you as well. It will be a very long time for the Clones of Scrapper Squad to be reintroduced to the Jedi.

“Worse is that this atrocity has been…celebrated by the Republic at large.” Kosa frowns, a troubled expression on her otherwise hardened features. “Now, re-organized as the Empire. Emperor Palpatine claims that Master Windu ordered for his assassination to pave way for the Jedi to take over the Republic.”

“Horseshit,” snarls Aure. “That man might’ve played the role of a harmless politician who didn’t seek any power, but he wasn’t hesitant about using those emergency powers to his advantage. The Delegation of 2000 tried to curtail his power, but he pulled a bunch of smoke and mirrors out of his ass to justify his power grab.”

Normally, someone might’ve admonished the zabrak for her crass language. Or the younglings might’ve gotten lost in a giggle fit. But the mood is far too serious or somber to remind anyone of proper decorum or find humor in it. Even the youngest of the children, though most of the politicking flies over their heads, know that something serious has happened.

“And since then, he’s called for our persecution.” Larid steeples his fingers together. “I won’t be graphic about what I saw on Coruscant, but suffice to say that the Jedi no longer have the goodwill of the Empire. Granted, there are those who have their doubts, but pale in comparison to those who’ve fallen for Palpatine’s propaganda. As it stands, the Jedi are persona non grata in civilized space.”

(cont.)
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“Or in the Outer Rim, for that matter,” adds Kosa. “If not the homeworlds of the Separatists, then the gangasters and syndicates moving to seize power would not be the friendliest to any Jedi.”

Aure laughs bitterly. “Then it’s a good thing we’re here in the middle of nowhere in the Unknown Regions. Thank the Force that my encounter with the Tof happened.”

“Aure,” warns Larid.

The zabrak shakes her head. “I’m fine, Brethon. Just the stress of the campaign, is all.”

No she isn’t. Master Aure is just as close to Kristen as you and Torok are. Possibly even more in the thirteen years of their respective relationship. Hers is a deep loss, and you don’t know whether or not Master Larid succeeded in convincing her to take another padawan.

“Uh…excuse me?” All eyes turn towards Fusan Al-Jhenat. The young arconan has his hand raised, no differently than if he was attending a class. “Why did Master Windu attack the Chancellor?”

A tense moment of silence passes between the three masters. Meanwhile, you and Sha Koon share a worried, knowing look. When last you recalled three people know the true identities of the Sith Lords. Skywalker is a subject that’s being deliberately withheld. Palpatine, however, is another story. While Larid said that Vader’s identity is being kept close to the chest, he made no mention about his master.

And now, you’re about to find out how close to the chest you’re gonna be playing this.

Kosa motions for Fusan to lower his hand. “A good question, young one. Based on the evidence that Master Larid brought back from Coruscant, we believe that the Emperor is under the influence and control of a Sith Lord.”

A bold lie, and very close to the chest, it seems. And to the twi’lek’s credit, she doesn’t have any tells. A dull roar of muttering ripples through the assembly as the gathered struggle to make sense of that. The kids knew that the temple had fallen, but at the hands of a Sith? That was something novel and terrifying.

Sha Koon’s modulated voice cuts through the gab. “What will then be our next course of action?”

“Isn’t it obvious?” Torok speaks up, looking around those present. “We must respond to the Empire’s aggression. We must save the Republic from the Sith!”

“There’s no more Republic to save!” Aure yells sharply. “The Senate made the decision to become an Empire. They might’ve been manipulated by Palpatine and the Sith Lord controlling him, but it was their decision. They proposed it, wrote it down, ratified it and incorporated it into their code of law, and made it legal. Even if we had the soldiers and the ships, which we clearly don't, we’d only be proving the propaganda correct that we're the enemies of the rightfully elected authorities!”

"Any aggressive moves on our part would only play into their hands," agrees Kosa, but not unkindly.

(cont.)
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It seems, then, that either your master told his contemporaries the truth about Palpatine as Darth Sidious, or he outright lied. You’ll have to ask him about that later.

Larid shifts in his seat. “I can tell you right now that this isn’t something that they’ve planned overnight. And while I don’t have the details, we can safely deduce that the Sith have been planning this far too well. They’ve framed us to the point where any move we make would make us seem like the traitors they’ve made us out to be.”

“Then…what do you think we should do?” Nah asks, looking at him for a long moment.
The Shadow sighs. “Well, we’ve got a lot of options. But first and foremost is patience and caution. We no longer have the liberty to be cavalier about our abilities or our beliefs.”

“And in time,” adds Kosa, “The galaxy will feel the oppressive yoke of both the Sith and the Empire. In time, they will rise up to fight against them.”

Torok stares, disbelievingly. “But that could take years! Decades, even! And by then, the Empire will have grown to the point where it can stamp out any opposition with the sheer bulk of its forces.”

“I agree,” Koon says with a frown. “I understand the need for secrecy, but it will be difficult to just simply turn our backs on the galaxy as this grave injustice perpetuates itself.”

Aure scowls. “We aren’t turning our backs on anything. I mean…I’m not there with you since I’m freezing my ass off in subzero temperatures. I don’t like it any more than you do, but it is what it is.”

“The fact of the matter,” cuts in Larid, “Is that we are all but nineteen Jedi and a mechanic. Against the entire bulk of the former Republic war machine, now turned Imperial and serving at the behest of the Sith.”

“But what’s to stop you and Master Farren from doing what Master Windu wanted?” That comes from Ceana, a wide-eyed and long-eared Sephi. “I mean…you’re both Shadows, aren’t you? Couldn’t you just travel to Coruscant and, erm…discretely take care of Emperor Palpatine and the Sith?”

Torok is unable to muffle his laughter. Even Aure cracks an incredulous smile at the rather off-kilter question. And more than several jaws drop at her rather elegant way of asking why an assassination attempt wouldn’t work.

But Larid shakes his head. “If that worked, I would’ve done it already. And…I have evidence that Master Yoda tried to take on the Sith controlling Palpatine…and failed.”

THAT causes a ripple of distress to wash across the room. Faces go pale, voices cry out, and you feel your heart throbbing in your ears. Master Yoda, the wisest of the Jedi and your first lighstaber instructor…is dead? And judging from the way Kosa and Aure look horrified at Larid, it seems that they’re hearing this for the first time as well.

(cont.)
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But to everyone’s relief, your master explains, “They made a show of saying he was dead, but I’ve also got evidence saying that he managed to escape, if only just barely. And I don’t know where he is any more than the Empire does. I know my talents, but I’m still a far cry from Master Yoda. And if he couldn’t do it…”

“Then it’d be a fool’s errand for any combination of us to go,” finishes Arotta, speaking up for the first time since the meeting started.

There’s an uneasy silence that follows her statement. It’s only broken by Torok who asked the necessary question: “…so what then are we to do?”

“We have several ideas,” assures Kosa. “But first and foremost is doing our own reorganization. We must first turn inward for our own betterment before we look to external foes and threats.”

Aure replies with a heavy sigh, “Yeah, no kidding. We’ve still got a lot of stuff to discuss, but the three of us all agree that we need a unified leadership before anything else. Wouldn’t do any of us any good if we just scattered without any direction.”

“It isn’t going to be easy to replace the High Council,” Larid intones, “But we must each rise to the challenge, even if we never expected anything to turn out this way.”

Murmurs of agreement answer their words. Then, confusion and anticipation as all eyes fall upon the masters. They hold a silence no differently than a master of ceremonies before the climactic act of the evening.

Then, Aure breaks the silence, and points to Kosa. “Master Uyer Kosa. Jedi Guardian.”

Kosa nods, and in turn, signals to your master. “Master Brethon Larid. Jedi Sentinel.”

Your master accepts her words, and gestures to the hologram. “Master Aure. Jedi Consular.”

A Jedi can be categorized into one of three paths, each with their own concentrations and foci. The three pillars of the Order, some often say…and then the revelation of their intent comes almost like a physical blow. Not one of hurt or pain, but of awe.

“As of this moment,” all three masters declare in a single, unified voice, “We are the Jedi Triumvirate, overseeing the preservation of the Jedi Order. In the interregnum until such a time as a new High Council can be elected, we will serve as the leaders of the Jedi-in-hiding.”

Silence. Then a chorus of “oohs” and “ahhs”, and thundering applause. Arotta looks in awe at Master Kosa. Torok looks apprehensive, but claps politely along with an approving Sha Koon. Nah doesn’t quite know how to react, but Riven makes up her enthusiasm by vigorously clapping.

Master Larid motions with his hand, and the entire room falls silent. “Thank you. Your trust in us will not be misplaced. But now’s not the time for speeches, but for action. First, the question of instruction. I would like to announce that with Farren’s elevation to Jedi Knight, I have taken a padawan to follow in his steps.”

(cont.)
>>
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He pauses, examining the younglings with a keen eye. “You know who you are. And we spoke extensively about this. Now, step forth in front of your brothers and sisters…”

>>This will be the only choice of padawan that you will be able to affect. After this, I will throw dice to determine where the eligible padawans go.

Eligible Younglings:
>Luaine Natani, 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.

>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.

>>Who stepped forward to stand before Master Larid to join Ceyla as a Shadow padawan?
>>Please select one(1) of the following eligible Younglings:
>Luaine Nataini
>Joz Kalgar
>Parn Telate
>Ritho Gad
>Vuqu Dahe
>Nujem Clavis

[VOTE OPEN FOR EIGHT HOURS]
>>
>>4822792
>Luaine Nataini
>>
>>4822792
>>Joz Kalgar
He should work well as a Shadow
>>
>>4822792
>>Joz Kalgar
>>
>>4822792
>>Vuqu Dahae, Mirialan female (12).
The fucking banter, I can hardly imagine.
>>4822807
Joz seems more like a consular imo.
>>
>>4822792
>Vuqu Dahe

I think if Larid isn't able to get Vuqu to understand how to interact with people without starting a fistfight, none of them could. And an aptitude for machinery and droids translates into slicing well enough, which will undoubtedly prove useful to a Shadow.
>>
>>4822792
>Vuqu Dahe

>We are the Jedi Triumvirate
>Triumvirate
Can't wait to hear Kreia burst out laughing at the irony of a Jedi Triumvirate trying to wipe out the Sith.
>>
>>4822826
I figured that triumvirate sounded familiar, but this is goddamn hilarious.

>>4822792
>Vuqu Dahae, Mirialan female (12).
Just dunk on Larid with literally being too autistic to understand his drama.

I think Luaine would be a bad pick with a vengeance arc, and Parn's got like 2 or 3 red flags to get killed off in this sort of thing. Nujem would be a good choice, but this is way too much way too soon for the young padawan to propose something that would be of help. Joz and Ritho are relatively safe choices, too.
>>
>>4822792
>Joz Kalgar, Mon Calamri male (13)
Seems like the best choice desu.

Wasn't our first lesson about being a Jedi Shadow to our padawan that we need to be socially aware, able to blend in, and make small talk?
Picking a literal autist for the next shadow doesn't seem like the best move.
>>
>>4822792
>Vuqu Dahe
>>
>>4822882
There's different kinds of autists. Vuqu strikes me as the type that once taught how to pretend to be normal can blend in well enough.
>>
>>4822882
yeah but now she's Larid's problem, not ours
>>
>>4822792
>Nujem Clavis
He just seems like one of the better candidates for shadow training and thinking
>>
>>4822792
>Nujem Clavis
Probably the most "Shadow" of them all.

Vuqu is an awful choice for a shadow, but a good choice for a guardian. She would be a good replacement for Torok once he becomes a knight.
>>
>>4822792
>Luaine Nataini

Great potential but her emotions need to be tempered by an experienced master, better Larid has her than Torok or Arrota rnding up with her and causing havoc. Leave the calmer padawans to the more emotional knights/masters
>>
>>4823174
Luaine and Kosa seem like a match made in heaven desu.
>>
>>4823174
Or this >>4823182 yeah.
>>
>>4822792
>Joz Kalgar
>>
>>4823182
Why?
>>
>>4823146
What makes Vuqu a good Guardian, exactly? While they're the ones most focused on combat, Guardians are still expected to be able to deescalate conflicts and talk people down from confrontations, they're still Jedi. What about any of that fits well with Vuqu?

And for that matter, I don't recall any mention of her being much better with a lightsaber than the other younglings.

As a shadow, she can be expected to do tasks like sabotage, espionage, general sneaking about, blending in with crowds etc. A starting aptitude with machines and droids already makes her well suited to the first two, especially if she also picks up slicing, while the latter skills can be taught.

What's more, despite her utter lack of how to be sociable, she already has a talent for figuring out how to get people to react in a way she wants them to. Important for an infiltrator.
>>
>>4823210
Firstly because Luaine is a bit like Arotta as she was in our youth, hot-headed and subject to their emotions. Kosa, with her steely level-headedness and control, has proven her ability to mold such traits into effective guardians. Kosa is also a no-nonsense master who'll be the firm guiding hand Luaine needs with regards to her self-doubt and insecurity.
>Leave the calmer padawans to the more emotional knights/masters.
This would make sense if we were Sith, who would want to draw out the emotions of their neophytes. But we're Jedi, who believe that there is no emotion, or rather that one should never let their emotions control themselves. In an ideal world where we have more than 7(?) masters, calm younglings would go to Masters who could further encourage that control and rowdy younglings would go to Masters who are best suited to ironing that particular kink out. But this is far from an ideal world, so prioritizing the most desperate cases is required. Luaine going to a less-than-zen master like Torok, Arotta, or Sha would result in one flaw (temper or insecurity) getting fixed while the other festers. Kosa knocks out both while leaving Laird free to mould the other glaring problem child (Vuqu) into a competent Shadow.
>>
>>4822792
>Nujem Clavis

Honestly Vuqu, while her analytical mindset and such are useful things for a shadow, her inability to understand social interaction is why I'm against choosing her. Shadows rely on their social interaction skills as much as their affinity in other fields. There is a time to be blunt, and a time to stretch the truth or straight up lie, and I believe she may have difficulty determining which is best for the situation.

I feel Nujem might be a better pick for his problem solving mindset. We have already faced many problems that require cunning and a whole lot of in-the-moment thinking (in battle and otherwise), and I feel as if his is the best mind for it. While his inclination towards combat is definitely something to work on, I feel as if Laird will be able to train him to understand that talking is just as effective as fighting in some cases, which to me is much easier to teach someone instead of having to teach social cues and how to respond to someone who is more blunt in their conversations by default. I also kind of want to see the war of mischief that inevitably occurs between the two of them.
>>
>>4822792
>>Vuqu Dahae
Used to be >>4805304, pardon my phoneposting.
>>4823250
>her inability to understand social interaction is why I'm against choosing her
Let me remind you that voting based off of current skill set is stupid since the whole point of training is to improve weaker skills.
>>
>>4823267
Current weak skills, rather. Things the younglings are good at should be considered.
>>
>>4822792
>>Vuqu Dahe
I keep forgetting to actually cast my vote. rip
>>
>>4823270
>>4823267
>Let me remind you that voting based off of current skill set is stupid since the whole point of training is to improve weaker skills.
And I fully understand that, which is why I said I feel it is easier to train someone to maybe talk to someone instead of smacking them with the big glow stick than it is to teach someone how to understand interpreting emotion and not being hyper-utilitarian in most aspects of their interaction with others. That's all. And like you said with this being training, it's not like Nujem can't just learn how to use a wrench as well. Not to the ability of Vuqu, no, but good enough just to have the know how to fix things if need be. I just have a feeling about him being a shadow that I don't really feel with Vuqu, really.
>>
>>4823238
Didn't see the Arotta/Luaine comparison, but its very apt, so i'll change my vote.

The second point is not entirely accurate though, padawans learn from their masters ofcourse, but masters learn from their padawans too. Kaz even said so during the Ceyla vote. So a calm padawan could temper their master. And a calm padawan and calm master would not be as efficient. Plus calmness is one of the virtues of a Jedi ofcourse, but the willingness to act must also not be forgotten
>>
>>4823174
Phone bugging account but i've been convinced of Luaine belonging with Kosa, so changing to
>Nujem Clavis

His hijinks are gonna be great
>>
>>4823324
Also you can't tell me that seeing Nujem and Larid trying to one up each other with their pranks won't be one of the funniest things to witness
>>
>>4822792

>Nujem Clavis,Kalleran male (11)
Easily the most Shadow potential of the bunch.
>>
>>4823250
>>4823146
Where were you people when we were voting for our Padawan, I felt like the only sane man shouting this shit back then. Vuqu cannot into people, therefore she's a TERRIBLE choice for an infiltrator.
>>
>>4823387
Asleep when votes happened desu. I stayed up for a bit to make it to this vote. And seeing as it is now 2:30-ish on my end, I now go to schleep
>>
>>4823267
>Let me remind you that voting based off of current skill set is stupid since the whole point of training is to improve weaker skills.

No, what you're saying is stupid. If you ignore their current skillset, then what are you voting off of? Looks? Or do you purport to only ignore the parts you don't like?
>>
>>4822792
>Nujem Clavis, Kalleran male (11).
>>
>>4823250
>Shadows rely on their social interaction skills as much as their affinity in other fields
This seems a very good point
>>
>>4822792
>Nujem Clavis
>>
>>4823250
Larid is the closest mentor Vuqu's going to get to a Sentinel, and she needs outside exposure. Letting her stick to what she knows, whether its droids or lightsabers, will only make it harder for her to talk to people. And it's not like anyone wants her to be a consular.

Though I say that with the plan of having Kosa take Luaine and Aure take Nujem or Joz
>>
>>4822792
>Vuqu Dahe
Let's give it to the autist, what could possibly go wrong
>>
>>4823250
The thing is, Vuqu's crippling inability to social would be a problem with all of them. What I'm saying is that Larid has the best chance to get her to develop out of it.
>>
>>4823483
??? He is a Sentinel though? Jedi Shadows are a specialization/subdivision of Jedi Sentinels.
>>
>>4823671
I missed that while doublechecking the categories, but the point is the same.
>>
>>4823483

There's no reason why she won't get the exposure to people she needs as a Consular (their job is literally diplomacy and negotiations) or even a Guardian. Just, not in a field where misreading social cues can get her killed.
>>
>>4823769
She's a Jedi. A mistake in any field can get her killed now. But as a Shadow, she'll have more methods for how to get out of danger.

And as I've already said, I think Larid has the best chance of teaching her how to social.
>>
>>4823698
It most certainly does not. No matter who her master is, it would be foolish not to foster her innate understanding of machinery. Shadows/Sentinels would be the best for that, while also pushing her out of her comfort zone. Her utilitarian worldview might serve a Guardian well, but we've established that Kosa and Luaine are meant to be and having her shack up with Arotta or Torok would be a mistake, as it's clear she needs an experienced master. Simply put, her becoming a Shadow would make best use of her strengths and best strengthen her weaknesses.
>>
>>4822792
>Nujem Clavis
Let the tomfoolery BEGIN
>>
>>4823954
I agree, that's why I was saying she should study under Larid.
>>
>>4824052
Mea culpa anon. I suppose that's what I get for skimming posts
>>
>>4822812
>>4822825
>>4822826
>>4822851
>>4822890
>>4823267
>>4823279
>>4823610
Vuqu
>>4822943
>>4823146
>>4823250
>>4823336
>>4823384
>>4823402
>>4824017
Nujem
>>4822807
>>4822810
>>4822882
>>4823196
Joz
>>4822796
Luaine

And that's counting the two late votes. Figured it was alright since the outcome is the same.
>>
>>4824284
Well darn diddly dee. Can't say it's the way I wanted it to go but y'know I kinda do want to see how this'll turn out
>>
Was a close one, certainly. I'm looking forward to this.
>>
>>4824284
Thanks for the tally, friend.

>>4824377
>>4824382
Without spoiling too much, Ceyla spends extra time meditating on "there is no emotion, there is peace".

Writing...
>>
>>4824382
Oh definitely. I'm liking this new "impromptu order" vibe we have going here. Makes me feel nice that we've got some structure to our motley group of Jedi + 1 cool dude mechanic
>>
Luaine is gonna flip if she doesn't make Padawan.
Especially now with Vuqu getting a spot.
The salt will be the end of us all.
>>
>>4824784
There are enough padawans for each master, don't worry. Kosa, Aure, Koon, Torok, and Arotta all are going to take padawans at some point soon. Luaine, Joz, Parn, Ritho, and Nujem all need masters. Makes me wonder who's gonna mind the little kids though.
>>
>>4824799
Shit, now that I read it, those lineups aren't half bad.
>Luaine with Kosa
For reasons previously mentioned.
Joz with Aure
>He has the makings of a consular and seems comperable personality-wise to Kristen.
>Parn with Koon
For the wildcard factor.
>Ritho with Torok
To achieve the Anakin/Ahsoka dynamic and utilize complementary personalities.
>Nujem with Arotta
For the /comfy/ little bro big sis relationship and criminal mastermindings.

It'll be interesting to see how much the dice agree with me here.
>>
>>4824784
Luaine is Guardian material and Kosa already has experience with a hot blooded Padawan in Arotta
>>
>>4824284
too late on me... wish we could do Nujem :|
>>
>>4825284
Fret not, anon. If the dice gods are good, Arotta will take him and we'll get holo after holo of her begging for us to come rescue her from her padawan who makes Kevin McAllester look like a kind, sane, well-rounded 8-year-old.
>>
Farren's art is finished! Only one left is Nomiana's. Tempted to get either Arotta or Ceyla next. Maybe one of the whole Albatross crew if I can stretch my wallet a bit.
>>
Solid stuff. How functional is our arm now?
>>
>>4825635
Hot damn. Our boy cuts quite the dashing figure. Ceyla (or Larid) would be my choice for the next, but it's not my money.
>>
>>4825635
I'd wait until we make significant upgrades to the ship, recruit new guys, or see how Ceyla starts to specialize.
>>
>>4825635
Hell yeh baby, Farren Garren Mclaren on the scene
>>
>>4825635
Grey hair?
>>
>>4825644
Fully functional. Bandages are mostly there for aesthetic purposes. The red sash is a gift from the Kakari and the Communion of Spirits.

>>4825686
>>4825703
Fair points.

>>4825743
A mark of what happened in the Heart of Kakarit when you fought the Accuser of Pilgrims and had the conversation with Alleana. Master Larid noted upon your return that your hair was starting to go slightly white.
>>
>>4825751
>A mark of what happened in the Heart of Kakarit when you fought the Accuser of Pilgrims and had the conversation with Alleana.

>Force Hair: Instantly grow a luscious set of white locks
>>
>>4825764
If only Master Windu was still alive...
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>>4825784
>implying Windu didn't master the even more potent Force Balding to ensure his dome was chrome as could be
>>
>>4825635
what was the price of the commission?
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>>4825795
pretty sure he could deflect blaster bolts with that dome
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>>4825751
Huh totally missed that
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>>4825810
Good question, i'm willing to donate a couple of bucks for more art
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>>4825686
Don't we already have art for Ceyla, as well as all the younglings/padawans?
>>
>>4825815
Too bad it gives him -10 defense against sith lighting. That's the only downside to the chrome dome build
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>>4826020
Nah, just pictures of a miraluka youngling and young jedi to represent them. Nothing custom.
>>
>>4825751
How old is Farren again?
>>
>>4828925
25, I believe.
>>
Apologies with the delay. Finals week starts tomorrow, and I've been crunching on some final projects. Hopefully I can push out the update soon with a lengthy vote time, so I can focus on my academics.

>>4825784
Mace actually had hair as both a padawan and a Jedi Knight. Since Samuel L. Jackson is bald IRL, I guess it's a happy coincidence that by the time he was on the Jedi High Council, he'd taken to shaving his head.

>>4825810
$70 per character with Mr. Nunes. $50 per character for the one with Revenant/Storyteller.

>>4828925
Yeah, he's 25.
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>>4828996
Next paycheck I got you covered for a commission. Should be the day after memorial day.
>>
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>>4822796
>>4822807
>>4822810
>>4822812
>>4822825
>>4822826
>>4822851
>>4822882
>>4822890
>>4822943
>>4823146
>>4823174
>>4823196
>>4823250
>>4823267
>>4823279
>>4823384
>>4823336
>>4823460
>>4823610

The look on Ceyla’s face suggests that she swallowed something incredibly sour. But you make little note of it as Vuqu Dahe stands up from the assembled younglings, and answers Master Larid’s summons. The mirialan’s face betrays nothing, not even pride or self-accomplishment, as she stands, walks, then bows before the Jedi Shadow.

“Let the record show that I have taken Vuqu Dahe as my padawan learner,” intones Master Larid. After a moment of silence, he bids her to take a seat with the rest of the Knights and padawans. “She is but the first of many to be elevated as Jedi apprentice. For the initiates that are eligible, we ask for your patience. Over the course of the next few days, we’ll be in talks to see that you will receive the training as best you see fit.”

Nods of understanding follow. Luaine, you notice among the younglings, trembles slightly. Although you can’t quite tell whether it’s relief or a bad case of nerves. Poor girl. At fourteen, any other youngling would have already been sent to the Agri Corps. How she managed to avoid that fate would certainly make for an interesting story.

Ceyla smiles tersely as Vuqu approaches, and deposits herself in the seat adjacent to your padawan. If the newly-appointed Shadow padawan noticed the frosty reception, she ignores it, returning her focus to the Triumvirate as Master Kosa speaks.

“On the subject of padwans, I believe we have a few issues at hand. Padawan Torok Lamal, step forward.”

Your brother’s breath goes quiet. He hesitantly stands, daring to not make a single noise as he approaches the three masters. The number of times you’d ever seen him nervous could be counted on your hand.

Larid regards the cathar with something resembling approval as he stands, and unclips his lightsaber. “Don’t look so nervous. You’re supposed to be stoic, but happy on the day you become a Jedi Knight.”
Somehow, his eyes widen even further. But he doesn’t complain or ask any questions, hurriedly kneeling with a wide, blinding grin on his face.

“Torok Lamal,” drawls the image of Aure, “After careful consideration, the Triumvirate has decided to elevate you to the rank of Jedi Knight. This decision doesn’t come lightly, but it is one that you have worked very hard to prove yourself worthy of.”

“You had already completed your Trials of Skill, Courage and Flesh during the course of both our war with the Separatists, and this latest struggle against the Tof,” Kosa says, “In addition to passing your Trials of Spirit and Insight under the supervision of Master Larid.”

You try to not act too relieved, masking it with cheer for your brother. It seems that in spite of what he did to the Viceroy's family, and what he nearly did...

(cont.)
>>
“A near thing, at a few times,” mutters Larid beneath his breath, then speaks louder, “But you’ve more than proven that the inner light of your soul has not been found wanting. Always remember that even in the darkest time, that dawn isn’t so far away.”

The Jedi Shadow ignites his lightsaber, casting a golden pallor across the room’s occupants. With a deliberate swiftness, he brings the blade across either of your brother’s shoulders, then slices off his padawan braid. “By the right of the Triumvirate, by the will of the Force, we dub thee Knight of the Jedi Order. Rise, Torok Lamal, padawan no more.”

“Marrun was a good friend to me,” says Kosa warmly, a smile broaching the otherwise stern line of her mouth. Even as most of the room, yourself included, erupts into wild cheers, she retains a calm air about her. “And I know for a fact he would have been proud of you.”

Torok’s eyes are moist, but he doesn’t lose his composure as he retrieves his braid. “Thank you.”

“Oh, don’t go thanking us yet, Knight Lamal,” Aure snarks, “I expect to see you back here on the Chiller once your ship gets fixed.”

One might tell him to fly his beloved Cathar Claw into a black hole, and he wouldn’t care in the slightest. Torok rejoins you, grinning ear-to-ear as he flops rather inelegantly into his chair.

“Look at us, Knights at last!”

You match his grin with one of your own. “Salamanders…”

“Together!” And you complete the catchphrase with the signature fist bump. But the light in his eyes dims, and his gaze flickers towards the reliquary. “…if only Kristen…”

“…one day, brother. One day…”

But you have little time to speak about anything else. Kosa brings the excited buzz and congratulatory din to a halt with a raise of her hand. “Torok Lamal, as a Jedi Knight, it is expected for you to take a padawan learner. We aren’t asking for an immediate decision, but we will give you time to decide.”

He nods. “Of course.”

Then, the twi’lek turns her attention towards her padawan. “Arotta.”

Your lover stiffens. “Yes, master.”

“We will be completing your Trials in the coming weeks ahead.”

“Of course, master.”

“The same goes for you, Noirah.” The girl in question starts at the sudden attention the Triumvirate pays to her. “Once your collarbone heals, you will be eligible for the completion of the Trials.”

Nah looks hesitant, but Riven gives her a wave and two thumbs up. Nodding to herself, she answers, “Yes. I won’t forget.”

Larid claps his hands. “Excellent. Now, I believe my former padwan had something he wished to share with us?”

You nod, motioning for Celya to stay seated. Standing up from the chair, you make your way to the front of the room. All eyes are on you. It isn't uncomfortable, but it is odd, considering your choice in career. A Jedi Shadow isn't supposed to be in the limelight!

(cont.)
>>
>>4830183
>“…if only Kristen…”
I wonder if tracking down Nomi and friends is excuse enough to visit Mandalore. Clan Skirata has a Jedi who was able to use the Force to undo brain death. And we can get Scrapper Squad's rapid aging nixed. I just hope Kaz can mitigate Traviss' obscene mandowank.
>>
>>4830722
Full disclosure, I'm still working my way through the Republic Commando novels. But yeesh, you aren't wrong about Traviss mandowank. Then again, this isn't the first time she's had some...unique additions to tie-in novels. IIRC, in her "Gears of War" novel, she had that whole breeding farm thing that looked like it walked straight out of a really skeevy doujin.
>>
>>4831030
>I'm still working my way through the Republic Commando novels.
Shit, my bad if I spoiled anything, I'll restrict my fantasizing to vague, noncommittal terms. The ImpCom series was axed, but here's an outline of the sequel, should you want to incorporate it.
https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Imperial_Commando_2
>spoiler
It's ridiculous, but I can't remember an instance as stupid as comic!Jango killing 6 Jedi by himself, with his bare hands.
>breeding farm thing that looked like it walked straight out of a really skeevy doujin
Very happy she never learned what Zeltrons are.
>>
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>>4831263
Hoo boy. Karen Traviss Rant Time go!

I will say that in her defense, the rape farms were already an established thing. But the comics took the concept of the farm to its logical conclusion and left a really bad taste in my mouth for the COG. I mean, I get the need for increasing the population after the casualties sustained during the Locust War, but this was just grotesque to the point of being fetishistic.

>Girls as young as 10 are given hormones so they'll begin menstruation early.
>Impregnation occurs either via artificial insemination or via sexually intercourse.
>Rampant abuse and hostile environments, staff raping patients are a common occurrence.
>Women are pawed off to the most decorated Gears as prizes for siring genetically strong offspring.

There's grimdark, and then there's whatever the hell the writer was on. 40k has the Death Korps, but they've got cloning and accelerated aging to keep up with the tithe. Even if it's for pragmatic reasons instead of moral outrage, the fact that the most fanatical (and arguably grimderp) faction of the setting think that breeder farms is a stupid idea should really tell you something.

I can't even blame Traviss for that as much as whoever was writing at the time for Gears. But I sure as hell have issues with what she did for Halo. Halsey isn't a saint by any stretch of the imagination, but Traviss really stroked a hate boner for her as well as the Spartan-IIs. Which, again, Halsey is absolutely deserving of judgement and criticism, but it looses its luster when everyone in Kilo 5 has the same opinion of her without variation.

And that's all the while praising ONI to high heaven and making the Sangheili incredibly incompetent. Which is rich, because Parangosky is arguably worse since she signed off on the creation of the Spartan-IIIs (deliberate cannon fodder against the Covenant, as opposed to the Spartan-IIs being elite spec ops against the Innies), and yet she manages to have moral indignation at Halsey.

But to digress, it seems that she's got it really bad for tribal warrior societies in her books. Case in point with that Gears novel she wrote where there's a "misunderstood" tribe of warrior-people who're part of the COG. They were made up for the book, fight alongside the main characters and are SUPER STEALTHY AND SKILLED AND DEADLY but are disrespected because they're tribal warrior-people. They were Mandos in the Gears of War setting with the numbers filed off.

And then there's this whole mess on her website's FAQ. Where if you like the Jedi, you are literally a Nazi. I could feed a farm for a solid decade with the amount of straw in her argument. Because mind that the Jedi really didn't want to use a clone army, and actually went out of their way to humanize them when the Kaminoans sure as hell didn't bother. And Palps is the actual mass-murdering, Nazi-style dictator.

https://www.karentraviss.com/page22/files/Is_it_true_you_hate_Jedi_.html

Rant over.

Writing...
>>
>>4831355
>https://www.karentraviss.com/page22/files/Is_it_true_you_hate_Jedi_.html
It's even worse than I thought...
>>
>>4831355
As expected of a fucking Karen. Bitches be reinforcing stereotypes n shit.
>>
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>>4831355
>https://www.karentraviss.com/page22/files/Is_it_true_you_hate_Jedi_.html
>>
>>4830722

Depending on how much of the EU Kaz uses, there might also be an extremely remote chance of finding a Voss healer who might be able to do the same. Albeit with someone willing to sacrifice enough of their own vitality to try and repair the damage. Though finding a skilled Jedi healer might still be the best chance here outside of finding a medical genius.

Also I just got done binging this quest over the past day or two. What a ride!
>>
>>4831355
Ok, I have say this: I liked the Republic Commando books (even though the ending, without spoiling anything, was forced as sin). I even took the rather dim view everyone has on Jedi there in stride, because if nothing else it's a pretty original attitude in a universe where most writers fellate them constantly and you can't lift a stone of an important event without finding a lightsaber-twirler or three under it. But this rant, this self-assured attitude that "I know myself and I know YOU", this fundamental misrepresentstion of what the Jedi and the Clone Army meant to each other... it's worrying.
>>
>>4831624
Sounds like a good mindset for a villain tho wink wink
>>
>>4829682
Oh, bless your heart. Thank you!

>>4831606
Thanks for checking out my quest! Glad to see you enjoyed it.

>>4831624
It's all a damned shame because there are legitimate grievances and criticisms of the Jedi. I myself have several, and recognize that Jedi are not inherently saints or paragons of virtue. One need look no further than Jorus C'baoth, whose pride and belief in the inherent superiority of the Jedi should've had him severely censured, if not outright expelled. The man promoted himself to master, but no one had the guts to call him out due to his headstrong and insensitively harsh demeanor. Where the hell was Yoda and Mace Windu when that egomaniac was power tripping or verbally abusing his padawan?

And then in the realm of "Jedi who thought Clones to be disposable assets", one need not further look than Pong Krell. And we all know what happened to him during the Umbara arc in TCW.

But Traviss takes a hamfisted approach with Jedi criticism in her novels, although is far too generous of a word to describe what I've so far read. Worse, she's insufferably smug about it, and doesn't even provide contrast to her seemingly perfect Mandalorians. Who, I might also add, nearly genocided the Cathar species during the Mandalorian Wars, took slaves and promoted the use of child soldiers. Which I haven't seen addressed yet. And judging from my prior experience with her Halo novels, I don't expect to see mentioned. And I'm still irrationally pissed in "Legacy of the Force" that Jaina had to undergo special Mandalorian training with Boba Fett because even as Sword of the Jedi, she couldn't bring herself to kill Jacen/Darth Caedus.

And then that's only the tip of the Iceberg with that FAQ on her website. Which I am sorely tempted to offer a thorough analysis and rebuttal and upload to pastebin when I get the free time. And while it's worrying that such an influence was allowed to write for the EU, there are people who whole-heartedly take her word as gospel. Which is, ironically, tangentially comparable to how lots of fans take Kreia's words as gospel. At least Chris Avellone said that he thought Kreia to be completely wrong about the Force, and Kreia fans are at least fun to debate with.

==========

But enough depressing news. Will Nunes just finished Nomiana's art! Complete with the knife you gave her on the night prior to the slave revolution.
>>
>>4831987
I wonder if Nomi has a sister whose nervous and shyness is mistaken for a cool and serious demeanor?
>>
>>4831987
She cute.

>>4832000
So is Nomi a pre-marriage or post-marriage Shūko Komi?
>>
>>4831987
cute
>>
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>>4830183
Still, a necessary evil for you to be speaking in public. Clearing your throat, you begin, “I’ve received troubling news regarding an enemy here in the Unknown Regions. This came to my attention after these three…”

Pausing, you gesture to a trio of girls – Ceyla, Vuqu and Luaine. They all start, then stiffen as they realize where you’re going. “…after they spoke to me in the debrief about what happened on the Chiller. They encountered a chain-wielding warrior strong in the Dark Side of the Force.”

That gets everyone’s immediate attention. Kosa stiffens as much as she can in her wheelchair, and her eyes narrow sharply. “What happened?”

Ceyla looks as if to speak, then decides better of it and recedes into her chair. With a sigh, you explain, “Between their recollection and an interview with a Tof bartender, I’ve assembled a dossier about a group of pirates called the Blazing Chain…”

For the sake of the little ones, you refrain from being too graphic. But you don’t sugarcoat it. And the way you emphasize the pride in their “80%” statistic, the subtext isn’t lost upon the more senior members of the assembly. Master Larid’s eyes narrow sharply at the history of Great Khanu Zonsoe. Kosa’s posture had gone from concerned to angry, and her skin discolors from how hard she’s gripping her arm. Aure, for the most part, remains as caustic as ever, but there’s a dark light in her eyes that even the hologram can capture.

“...Ingmar and the warden said that they’ve been scattered for the better part of nine years,” you finish grimly, “But the fact that one went so far as to attack our younglings means that they’re a threat we can’t afford to ignore.”

Troubled expressions. Vuqu absently rubs at the bruising around her neck, even as Ceyla grist her teeth and Luaine hisses something unintelligible. The rest of the younglings look nervous, frightened even. But in the faces of the Triumvirate and the rest of the seated, there is only outrage and a desire for reprisal. It seems that this issue is the unifying factor for all opinions. But the next few moments will determine if doctrine is similarly uniform.

Kosa is the first to break the silence. “Thank you for bringing this to our attention. It seems that Amagi may not be as safe as we originally thought it to be.”

“Never has been,” cackles Aure’s holographic image. “Considering that the Tof on the Chiller are just a drop in the pond for wherever the green uglies are hiding. But that’s a discussion for later. Force-sensitive pirates, eh?”

“I’ll have to make a few of my own phone calls,” Larid says with an undisguised contempt. “They aren’t Sith, but these guys are gonna be trouble if we don’t deal with them sooner rather than later. Does Keimann know about this?”

(cont.)
>>
“No,” you answer honestly, “But if he doesn’t, I wouldn’t be surprised if it made its way to him eventually. The warden of the prison camp was the victim of a rad carried out by the Chain, him and no doubt several others among the former slaves. And I didn’t exactly say they couldn’t talk about it…”

Koon muses, “It would be wise to inform him sooner, rather than later. And from us, rather than hearsay and gossip by his officers and administrators.”

“I’ll let him know,” promises the consular, “Although I don’t know how he’s gonna react. He’s got the already got Tof to worry about, on top of foreign policy issues with the neighboring powers. And even if the Chain is as scattered and disorganized as Gaelle’s dossier claims…”

“The longer we leave them alone, the more power they’ll amass,” Kosa finishes with a shake of her head. “And there’s not just one, but twelve fleets with different modus operandi and much we don't know about. They’re equal measures a threat to the new regime as much as they are to us.”

Torok’s teeth flash. “I’ll accept not going after the Empire. But what about these pirate scum? The Tof are one thing, but the Chain will make another attempt on our younglings. We must hunt them down! There’s no more Republic, but we can more than ally ourselves with the Mylar Star Alliance. They're the closest thing in the Unknown Regions, all the more with Master Aure writing their legal code!”

A wave of distress from the little ones, and grim agreement from Arotta, Nah and even Riven. But before anyone else can respond, Larid forcefully interjects, “Our younglings are safe on Amagi. All the more that we’re all here! Fearmongering and hasty decision-making won’t do anyone any good. Master Aure will bring this to the Supreme Archon, and then we’ll proceed from there. The Triumvirate will need a few days to digest this and formulate a proper response.”

Kosa readily agrees. “In the meantime, even if we aren’t about to abandon Amagi or otherwise formally join with Keimann, we’ll have to begin the search for additional safehouses…”

Nods all around. And then Aure’s hologram focuses on you. Followed shortly by both Kosa and Larid. And perhaps it’s due to what you and your master spoke about earlier, but you already know where they’re going with this.

“Farren Gaelle,” the zabrak calls with grave solemnity, devoid of her former snark and bitterness, “The Triumvirate has a mission for you.”

“We understand that you’ve recently come into intelligence as to planets that have escaped the Empire’s notice,” observes the twi’lek master.

Larid’s eyes betray nothing, but he grins, saying, “And out of all our Knights, you are perhaps the best-equipped to carry out this reconnaissance.”

(cont.)
>>
It makes enough sense. Torok’s only here since his ship’s getting repaired. As soon as it’s finished, it’ll be back to the Chiller with Master Aure. Not to mention that a Jedi Interceptor is hardly the most inconspicuous starship. But beyond your brother, Arotta still needs to heal her broken arm and finish her Trials. And Sha Koon doesn’t have her own spaceship since she came from Coruscant with your master and his tag-alongs.

Really, it could only be you, and the crew of the Albatross.

You bow at the waist. “I accept.”

“Excellent!” Clapping his hands together, your master addresses the rest of the room at large. “With this, the summit is adjourned. If you can file out of the room in an orderly fashion, dinner will be waiting in the prefabs and barracks. All except Farren and his padawan. The Triumvirate wishes to speak with you about the details of your mission, but we’ll let you go soon enough. Oh, and Vuqu. If you could move your things from your quarters into the empty room on the port side of the Bantha…”

One by one, the younglings stand up, stretching or otherwise shaking blood back into their limbs before they wander out of the cargo hold. The Knights soon follow, with Torok giving you strong-armed hug before he makes his way to the exit. Koon regards you with a cool nod, and Nah flashes a nervous smile. The mechanic at her hip merely waves, then follows her out.

Arotta is the last to leave. She hesitates, glancing to you, then towards the masters. Larid’s gaze remains impassive, distant even, and Aure’s too busy trying to clear the static out of her connection. But there’s no missing the curious eyebrow of Master Kosa, and the thin line on the twi’lek’s lips.

“Farren, I…” your lover pauses, then shakes her head. “…I’ll save a plate for you.”

You nod errantly. “See you in a bit, Arotta.”

With her departure, the only members in the room are the newly, self-styled Triumvirate, yourself and Ceyla. Aure finally manages to dial into a more stable frequency, and only after so much cursing. The consular grunts, “Come to think about it, you didn’t tell us where he learned about it, Brethon.”

“I can vouch for his information,” assures your master with a flat voice.

Kosa frowns. “But surely you can tell us how he came across it.”

“That’s entirely up to him.” Then, his attention turns to you. “So, Farren. Never was a fan of flowery language, but the gist of this mission is scoping out a place we can use as a safehouse for the foreseeable future.”

“You aren’t going to consider building a chapter house on Amagi?” you ask.

Aure shrugs. “Hard to tell at the moment. Because you and Torok made a whole lot of waves as heroes of the Revolution. We’re still in the Unknown Regions and it’s hard to get here if you don’t know how, but there’s always a risk of someone speaking to the wrong person…”

(cont.)
>>
>>4832000
>Komiana Whrul
The only true threat to the power of bottom-heavy Chiss women.
>>
>>4832208
You nod grimly. This isn’t new information, but it’s still frustrating to hear. “I specifically told Keimann to not put us in the spotlight.”

“Yeah, he didn’t,” counters the zabrak, “But you were brandishing that lightsaber in front of thousands of slaves and slavers. Of which some of the latter got off-planet. And while I’m going to make sure that all these green-skinned bastards are gonna end up in a grave or in a prison camp, I’m still waving around my lightsabers on this frozen shithole.”

“Language,” your master sighs as Ceyla’s ears turn pink at the consular’s crassness. “But she’s right. If we’re going to build a chapter house, it’ll only be after we’ve ascertained that there’s as close a chance of zero to have reached the Empire about Jedi on Amagi.

“Speaking of which, I’d really appreciate if you could look into what the Empire’s saying about Kakarit. I never met the man, but what I know of Tarkin has me guessing that he won’t take your escape lying down. And there’s the fact that there were two Jedi, who might’ve been able to escape off the planet with the Seppie Core ship.”

“Agreed,” the guardian affirms, “But for the subject of the Mylar Star Alliance…it’s still too soon. And while they are the closest to the Republic, Torok is only slightly wrong about their system of governance. Equal rights though they promote, an oligarchic stratocracy is not a representative democracy.”

“Even if that’s what the Republic was slowly turning into towards the end,” remarks Aure bitterly. “At least these ones reserve their xenophobia for the Tof. And for a good reason, too!”

With that lovely note, the subject of integration ends. Only time will tell if you’ll establish a chapter house, ally with the Mylar Star Alliance, or otherwise do both. On the one hand, it’d be nice to settle into at least something resembling your former life prior to the Empire. On the other…

Clearing his throat, your master says, “So, we’re giving you the mission, but you’ve got some freedom and leeway in how you go about it. And while there isn’t any time limit like your Trial of Spirit, don’t take too long to get back here.”

“Of course,” you answer earnestly.

“Good. Do not make me assume the worst and have come after you, Farren.”

Somehow, you manage to suppress a shudder. “Yes, master.”

Aure laughs. “Quit scaring the kid, Brethon. But for real, Gaelle. Where abouts are you gonna start looking? Just so we can chart out or otherwise gauge how long it’ll take you.”

“Of course, we won’t be asking you to leave right away,” assures Kosa. “You’ll have a full day to see that your affairs are in order, and your ship’s been resupplied for a long journey across the stars.”

(cont.)
>>
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>>Which of the following planets will you first investigate as potential safe havens for Jedi?
>>Ossus and O’haon were not included due to their status as arguably hostile planets for the Jedi to settle down, but you can explore them later if you so wish…

>>Please select one(1) of the following.
>Arkinnea, a planet in the Expanse Region, where refugees of both Separatist and Republic bent flee. [Moderate Danger]
>Bracca, a planet in the Mid Rim, where the only fortune to be made is from shipbreaking and scrapping both military and civilian ships that got caught up in in the Clone Wars. [Low Danger]
>Dagobah, a planet in the Outer Rim, a desolate swamp devoid of any significant life or advanced civilization. [Low Danger]
>Dantooine, a key battlefront planet, heavily contested by both the Separatists and the Republic. It holds the ruins of a Jedi Stronghold from the time of the Great Galactic War. [Moderate Danger]
>Dweem, the secret homeworld of the Iron Knights, a censured sect of the Jedi Order comprised of Force-sensitive, silicon-based Shards that chose exile after being deemed “heretical”. [Low Danger]
>Tython, the mythical homeworld of the Je’daii Order, the ancient precursors to the contemporary Jedi Order. Lost to both the Jedi and the Sith, its proximity in the Deep Core makes for a dangerous journey. [EXTREME Danger]
>Uliea, a planet in the Outer Rim, alleged homeworld of the Gaelles and mostly unknown by the galaxy at large. [Low Danger]
>Custom Option. [Write-in]

>>All three members of the Jedi Triumvirate were in the Prowling Vronskr Youngling Clan, same as Alleane Gaelle.
>>Do you wish to reveal the source of your intelligence, and ask them for information about your mother?
>Yes, and have Ceyla remain inside the room.
>Yes, but send Ceyla out of the room first.
>No, and wish that the Force be with them.

[VOTE OPEN FOR TWELVE(12) HOURS]

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

>>Please structure your votes as the following.
>Planet X.
>Answer Y.

Finals are approaching and my brain is slowly turning into mush...
>>
>>4832317
>Dagobah, a planet in the Outer Rim, a desolate swamp devoid of any significant life or advanced civilization. [Low Danger]
Okay, so I know that we probably wouldn't meet up with Yoda or anything if we picked this one - he probably hasn't gotten there in universe or anything, heck going here might spook him from coming here it all - but the same reason he chose self exile here makes it a GREAT hiding place for ourselves. Maybe not a good PERMANENT hiding place, since it is stained with the dark side and it's probably a bad idea to stay there long term when we have younglings, but a perfect first stop/bolthole before heading elsewhere.

>Yes, but send Ceyla out of the room first.
This is the absolute WORST time for us to be in the dark on even the most seemingly insignificant topic, but just in case this comes to an argument, we don't need our new padawan seeing the masters fighting each other.
>>
>>4832317
>Uliea
>No, and wish that the Force be with them.
>>
>>4832317
>Bracca
>Dagobah

>Yes, and have Ceyla remain inside the room.


>Finals are approaching and my brain is slowly turning into mush...
You will do fine
>>
I want to fuck Aayla Secura.

That is all.

Carry on.
>>
>>4832317
>Dweem, the secret homeworld of the Iron Knights, a censured sect of the Jedi Order comprised of Force-sensitive, silicon-based Shards that chose exile after being deemed “heretical”. [Low Danger]
I think they deserve to be updated about the kinds of dangers there are for force sensitives, if only to establish ourselves as friendly.

>Yes, but send Ceyla out of the room first.
>>
>>4832317
>>Dweem, the secret homeworld of the Iron Knights, a censured sect of the Jedi Order comprised of Force-sensitive, silicon-based Shards that chose exile after being deemed “heretical”. [Low Danger]
>>Yes, and have Ceyla remain inside the room.
>>4832343
Who doesn’t
>>
>>4832405
>Who doesn’t
Me. Alien chicks freak me out.
>>
>>4831987
I don't know if Kreia was *completely* wrong about the Force (lorewise she had a lot of experiences lending her a unique perspective on it), but it's certainly one perspective among many. Which can be taken too far, as history has shown us.

>>4832317
So many choices, so many paths.
>Tython, the mythical homeworld of the Je’daii Order, the ancient precursors to the contemporary Jedi Order. Lost to both the Jedi and the Sith, its proximity in the Deep Core makes for a dangerous journey.
Danger, schmanger, if we manage to establish a new Jedi Order on Tython we're legendary. Palps isn't getting his bony ass anywhere near there.
>Yes, but send Ceyla out of the room first.

Ceyla's had enough unorthodox practices for the year. If she finds out about Jedi going off having kids it might seriously end up destabilising her outlook at a time where she most needs to be focused on the Jedi Order's tenets.
>>
>>4832343
You're in the right quest, or thereabouts.
>>
>>4832317

>Bracca

I want to go to tython when Ceyla is more experienced. Bracca is a nice middle ground for now.

>Yes, but send Ceyla out of the room first.
>>
>>4832317
>Dweem, the secret homeworld of the Iron Knights, a censured sect of the Jedi Order comprised of Force-sensitive, silicon-based Shards that chose exile after being deemed “heretical”. [Low Danger]
>Yes, but send Ceyla out of the room first.
>>
>>4832317
>Dweem, the secret homeworld of the Iron Knights, a censured sect of the Jedi Order comprised of Force-sensitive, silicon-based Shards that chose exile after being deemed “heretical”. [Low Danger]
>Yes, but send Ceyla out of the room first.

I'd like to see the Iron Knights, they don't get nearly enough coverage in my opinion.
>>
>>4832317
>Dweem
Let's start somewhere relatively safe while our padawan is still inexperienced, plus the iron knights sound pretty cool
>Yes, but send Ceyla out of the room first.
We can still play the "later when your ready" card
>>
>>4832317
>Dweem
>Have Ceyla remain in the room
>>
>>4832317
>>Dagobah, a planet in the Outer Rim, a desolate swamp devoid of any significant life or advanced civilization. [Low Danger]
>Yes, and have Ceyla remain inside the room.
>>
>>4832317
>Uliea
>Yes, and have Ceyla remain inside the room.
We missed Mother’s Day by about two weeks and didn’t even send a card. She’s going to be pissed.
>>
>>4832653
Oh, yeah, before we leave Amagi, we should send a message to Laurentius and Octavia to see if there’s a list of Seppie boltholes or family members we could check on for them.
>>
>>4832317
>Bracca, a planet in the Mid Rim, where the only fortune to be made is from shipbreaking and scrapping both military and civilian ships that got caught up in in the Clone Wars. [Low Danger]
I really don't think there are any good options for planets to go to right now, this is the one I feel neutral about.

Arkinnea is due for brutal supression by the Empire in five years, based on its status as a refugee planet.

Dagobah feels a little meta, but on the flip side it is completely uninhabited and hard to travel to and from, and is close-ish to Hutt Space.

Dantooine is going to have Imperial boots on the ground no matter what.

Dweem is another one that the Empire is eventually going to show up on, Force sensitive droids is something Vader is going to remember eventually. The Inquistors are probably going to raid the place.

Tython is a hellhole, we'd have an easier time setting up on Ossus or Had Abbadon.

I don't want to go to Uliea right after telling Larrid off for wanting to go after the Revenant.

>Yes, and have Ceyla remain inside the room.
I don't want to encourage this behavior from her, given her race, but I also don't want to keep secrets from her.
>>
>>4832317
>>Dweem, the secret homeworld of the Iron Knights, a censured sect of the Jedi Order comprised of Force-sensitive, silicon-based Shards that chose exile after being deemed “heretical”. [Low Danger]
>Yes, but send Ceyla out of the room first.
>>
>>4832778

>Tython is a hellhole, we'd have an easier time setting up on Ossus or Had Abbadon.

Nobody's set foot on it for centuries, how do you know what it is or isn't right now? Farren sure as heck doesn't.
>>
>>4832317
>>Arkinnea, a planet in the Expanse Region, where refugees of both Separatist and Republic bent flee. [Moderate Danger]
>>Yes, and have Ceyla remain inside the room.
Time for K'Kruhk and another youngling clan.
>>4832496
>middle ground
Then it'd be better to choose a [Moderate Danger] planet, no?
>>4832778
>Arkinnea is due for brutal supression by the Empire in five years
K'Kruhk survives to join Luke's order, so I doubt it.
>Dantooine is going to have Imperial boots on the ground no matter what.
Rebels built a base there.
>Dweem is another one that the Empire is eventually going to show up on, Force sensitive droids is something Vader is going to remember eventually.
Iron Knights remained undiscoverd until post-Endor.
>>
I say we chart a course from point A to point B so to speak, starting with
>Uliea
then
>Arkinnea
then
>Dweem
then
>Dagobah
& finally
>Tython
Before we return to Amagi

We shouldn't keep our padawan in the dark, so
>Yes
but also
>Wish for the Force to be with them

>4832343
+1

>Good luck on your finals!
>>
>>4832317
>Dagobah
>Yes, but send Ceyla out of the room first.
>>
>>4832996
Middle ground isnt directly related to danger, its usefullness, meta relevancy etc are also important
>>
>>4832806
>Nobody's set foot on it for centuries, how do you know what it is or isn't right now? Farren sure as heck doesn't.
Given Farren's IC knowledge on the Great Galactic War, he would know the planet was devastated at the end of the conflict, and depending on how much he knows of the Draggulch Period, he would know that Tython was further ruined and steeped in darkness by Belia Darzu.

>>4832996
>Rebels built a base there.
Towards the middle of the Dark Times, early on Fallon Grey is based out of there, and the Empire snuffed out his little settlement in the teens BBY.

>Iron Knights remained undiscoverd until post-Endor.
That's what you get from a retconned group of near lore-breaking droids chiefly from RPG supplements and magazine articles.
>>
Dagobah
>>4832338
>>4832340
>>4832598
>>4833126 (1)
Bracca
>>4832340
>>4832496
>>4832778
Uliea
>>4832339
>>4832653
>>4833114 (1)
Dweem
>>4832375
>>4832405
>>4832520 (1)
>>4832528
>>4832539
>>4832564 (1)
>>4832790 (1)
Tython
>>4832425
Arkinnea
>>4832996

Looks like it's force robot time. Kinda surprising, IMO.

>>4833261
In terms of usefullness, I suppose it'd be a good place for the Mercantors to buy parts for the Globus. Not sure what else aside from that. In terms of meta relevancy, there's fuck all, save for a youngling with slightly more talent than normal. A planet like Dantooine would be a has more meta relevancy. Several Jedi and an early rebel cell.
>>
>>4833275
>Dweem
Battle Droid crossover soon
>>
>>4835425
Makes me wonder if one of the Shards is gonna want to take B-33 as a body.
>>
>>4835710
Personally, I'd rather we keep B-33 as is so he can further develop his own personality, rather than having it muddled up or replaced by one of the Shard's.
>>
We still have a whole day after the meeting is adjourned.

I second getting a list of boltholes from the Mercantors.

First thing's first, enjoy a meal with Arotta. Maybe let Ceyla see her friends off. Then inquire as to more party members.

If we had time I would say we storm the Toff bunker, but what could we really gain from it at this point?
>>
>>4836185
A free bug-out bunker for when Vader comes. Just got to ask the Kakari to dig an escape tunnel from there to either one of their settlements or their embassy.
>>
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>>4833275
Thanks for tallying up the vote. Now lemme just count the Alleana choices. So unless my math is way off, it should round itself out too...

>Yes, and send Ceyla out: 9
>Yes, have Ceyla stay: 8
>No, wish them well: 1

And don't worry about wasting time asking the Mercantors for a list of boltholes on the day of preparation. They'll email(?) one to you and give you plenty of time to take care of other business.

I still have one final, but I should be good to go this Friday for resuming the quest. My creative juices are just absolutely tuckered out.

I'm pursuing sound design/engineering as a career, and the final projects have been fun, but taxing on my muse. Still had fun re-designing the landing sequence and first battle from "Starship Troopers". My teacher was actually called in to help cutting SFX (mostly ships blowing up), so that was cool to learn. Best of all, none of my classmates noticed the farting noises I snuck into the mix during the final presentation...
>>
>>4836399
>spoiler
wait why would you do that
>>
>>4836411
Because it's fun.
>>
>>4836399
>spoiler
That implies someone did notice them, though...

>>4836411
Why wouldn’t he?
>>
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>>4836411
Believe it or not, the sound of someone ripping a huge one helps "sweeten" an SFX by building layers of sound together. You know those giant Arachnids on Klendathu that shoot plasma artillery out of their abdomen to hit the Terran Federation ships in space? I needed an organic element in the layers of sounds given the fact that the Arachnids use bioweapons, as opposed to the more industrial sounds of the Terran Federation. So I had the sound of gore, the electric noise the plasma makes on exit, a low rumbling for the noises that the bugs themselves make, and a low gurgling that signifies the chargeup of plasma in their bodies. All I was missing was a component for the actual "discharge".

Enter, a fart library that was created by two alumni from the sound department who submitted it as their thesis project. A painstaking labor of love that was accomplished with one student with a mild lactose intolerance eating cheese and other irritants (Taco Bell numbered among one citation on their submitted paperwork). The second person did the tech work, holding an emergency EpiPen just in case, and no less than four microphones: two contact mics tapped on the artist's stomach, one lavalier mic tapped against the elastic band of his underwear above the valley of his buttcrack, and an additional boom mic for safety. I was told that the head of my department turned red holding himself back from laughing during the presentation.

So...beyond shits and giggles, I had a legitimate reason to add fart noises.

>>4836440
I think my professor noticed something, because he taught the students who created the "Irritable Bowel Movement" library. Just gave me a look, but didn't say anything because the next scene had Rico and the Roughnecks blowing the Plasma Bugs up with RPGs.
>>
Interesting, certainly creative, but I never wanted to know that.

My disappointment is immeasurable & my day is ruined.
>>
>>4836473
I will never not be amazed by the sheer amount of time and serious effort human beings will put into producing what are essentially extensive jokes
>>
>>4835919
B-33 is already acting weird as hell in comparison to others. It wouldn't be surprising if a shard already got to B-33
>>
>>4836473
Please don't be a braphog, Kaz.

Please.
>>
>>4837612
>>4835919
>>4835710

We need to spend quality time with him or her. we havent even decided on what kind of vocals its going to have!
>>
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>>4838224
B-33's a dude and I think we're currently rocking the CIS stock vocabulator. We should look into tricking him out though. Our lack of an astromech is rather glaring, so if we don't want to buy one, investing in an arm with a scomp link would pay off in spades. I wouldn't say no to pic related though. I've always had a soft sport for those fuckers. Also, page 9.
>>
>>4838173
you mean brapfag
>>
>>4838250
>That droid
I thought I was the only one who liked those things. Nice to see I'm not alone.
Also might want to start piecing together a body for our HK unit. Maybe if we could find a headless and slightly damaged Commando Droid body...
We really do need another crew member and I might get flack for this, but maybe a Tof? One that is being falsely accused and held? There has to be one that was doing some underground railroad type stuff.
>>
>>4838262
yes.
>>
>>4838269
>I thought I was the only one who liked those things. Nice to see I'm not alone.
My man. S19 master race.
>Also might want to start piecing together a body for our HK unit.
That's a plot point we've let fall by the wayside in the wake of the Purge. IIRC HK has the coordinates to one of the parts, which, when found, will give the coordinates to the next one. And so on.
>>4838269
>We really do need another crew member
Right, still with you...
>but maybe a Tof?
..and you lost me. It won't matter if they're innocent or not, I doubt Elba and Suzel will be inclined to share a home and workspace with one. Still think we should employ someone else though, I'll vote for it next time we get the chance.
>>
>>4838376
From what I'm seeing of the Tof on the Wook, it talks about the "male dominated" culture, and how the women are mostly subservient to them. Maybe we should talk to Ingmar about how his more cosmopolitan views came about, see if he was raised by a single mother or went to an offworld space university for his business degree or something.
>>
>>4825635
I really hate to be "that guy", especially when the art looks SO DAMN GOOD, but he forgot the rounded pommel on the straight saber!! I MADE THOSE SABERS BECAUSE I LOVE YOU AND THIS QUEST KAZ!!

What's the name of the artist so I can pay to add it?
>>
>>4838376
We can re-pick up the HK plot, its not as urgent IC though
>>
On a related note,

>>4832317
>Bracca
We literally were told in a vision we'd find Cal here. No meta knowledge, just weird force shenanigans. I feel it would make the most sense to set up a base there. Plus the Empire doesn't come snifing around for a good eight years or so! They even listen to Mongolian throat singing.
>>
>>4838551
Five years, not eight.
>>
>>4838250
Ooo that droid actually looks pretty cool, what type is it?
>>
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>>4839873
>>
>>4839885
1334432343071? :^)
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>>4839885
plz pardon, am blind and stooped
>>
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>>4836550
In hindsight, that might've been too much information. At 12 AM and strung out on caffeine, the process and anecdote did seem funny at the time. I apologize if that was uncomfortable to read.

>>4836594
Professionals have standards.

>>4838173
>>4838262
>>4838271
Nah, it's just that I laugh at the same toilet humor that I did when I was in second grade.

>>4838497
Will Nunes. Fantastic artist and the go-to for much of the "Star Wars FFG RPG" group character art, as well as tabletop games in general.


At any rate, I'm done with finals, and my internet's been fixed.

Writing...
>>
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>>4832375
>>4832405
>>4832520
>>4832528
>>4832539
>>4832564
>>4832790

Of the members of the Triumvirate, Master Larid is the only one who recognizes the planet. His brow quirks in curiosity, and he rubs the bottom of his jaw in a contemplative expression. “Dweem, huh?”

“You know of this planet?” asks Kosa with a slight frown.

The Shadow nods. “Aye. And so did my master, come to think of it. You two remember him? Master Vilbum?”

Something like recognition flickers in Aure’s eyes. “Yeah, I remember. He was, uh…Bargawin, yeah? There aren’t a whole lot of them in the galaxy, let alone in the Jedi Order.”

A bitter smile creases your master’s lips. “Yeah. Not a whole lot.”

“Brethon…” Kosa extends her hand towards him, but he gently shakes his head.

“I’m fine.” He takes a deep breath, returning his attention to you. “So, Dweem. I see you’ve been digging into my navicomputer.” You raise your hands defensively, but there’s a mirth in his eyes that dispels any notion of trouble. “A surprising choice, but one that makes enough sense. You could definitely do worse for planets.”

You shrug. “Even if we can’t establish a more permanent safehouse, the Iron Knights deserve to know what’s happened. And it wouldn’t do to go into the more dangerous areas with a padawan this early in her apprenticeship.”

Ceyla twitches, but doesn’t answer. Instead, Kosa leans forward with a frown. And to your surprise, she asks, “The Iron Knights? They’ve made a sanctuary on this…Dweem?”

Aure squints, shifting her gaze to either member of the Triumvirate. “Hang on a moment. Who’re you guys talking about?”

“The Iron Knights,” explains Larid with a slow and deliberate tone, “Are a sect of Force-sensitive Shards trained in the ways of the Jedi by Master Aquinos. They stepped in to aid the Jedi during the Arkanian Revolution, and promptly disappeared because the High Council hurt their feelings.”

The zabrak makes a face. “Brethon, I swear to the Force-”

“Mace Windu and Yoda said that teaching silicon-based lifeforms how to use the Force was a great heresy. Because in their eyes, only carbon-based life (or at least beings with flesh and blood, honestly) are truly capable of understanding the Force.”

Aure rolls her eyes. “There we go.” A pause as she processes what he just told her. “…man, what a bunch of pricks.”

Kosa grimaces. “A crude…but accurate summary of the events. Master Aquinos was heavily censured, and ultimately chose self-exile with his students. There were fears of them turning to the Dark Side, but those have so far been unfounded.”

Now, it’s Larid’s turn to give the guardian an odd look. “I’m surprised, Uyer. How do you know about the Iron Knights?”

(cont.)
>>
“A handful of them re-emerged into the galaxy at the onset of the war with the Separatists. I never met them personally, but they fought admirably across campaigns in the Outer Rim. And like you said, they were never a part of the order, but Palpatine gave them the ranks of High Marshal so they could take Clones into battle.”

A troubled expression settles on your master’s face. It’s one that you share as well. Darth Sidious knows about the Iron Knights. That is something that you didn’t expect to learn today. And judging from the look on Aure’s face, she’s reached a conclusion that seems parallel to yours.

The zabrak drawls, “…so how safe is this Dweem? Because I’d really hate for the kid to fly himself right into an Imperial ambush if our new Emperor went out of his way to give them a military rank! And if he knows about them, then I’m certain that the Sith Lord he answers to does as well!”

Kosa thinks hard, then slowly says, “The High Marshals made it a point to deflect all inquiries into their homeworld. They wanted to serve the Republic, but keep themselves at an arms’ distance. Even when he was the Supreme Chancellor, it would've been highly unlikely for Palpatine to know where they chose their self-exile.

"Brethon, come to think about it, how do you know where their homeworld is?”

He looks like he wants to challenge the alleged ‘safety’ of Dweem, but decides to hold it in. “Master Aquinos passed it off to Master Vilbum prior to self-exile, on the condition that the coordinates wouldn’t be written down and in the off-chance that Mace Windu changed his mind, or recanted and wanted to welcome the Iron Knights into the fold of the Jedi.”

A good thing that it didn’t happen, it seems in hindsight.

At the cursory eyebrow the room gives your master (with even Ceyla participating), he scoffs angrily. “Okay, fine, I wrote it down. But I’ve got the Bantha’s navicomputer locked down behind five layers of encryptions and biometric locks. Plus, I don’t exactly have half as much grey matter in my head as much as Master Vilbum does! He could remember how much pickles Dex’s Diner added on his burger on the day prior to the Xanatos Incident.”

Part of you wants to crack a joke about grey matter and Master Larid’s self-admitted deficiency, but you opt not to. Coughing your throat to gain the Triumvirate’s attention, you say, “Dweem is where I’ll be heading first, and I promise to be careful. After that…I’ll decide where to go next.”

Aure doesn’t look nearly convinced, but Kosa opines, “It would be good to establish contact with them. The matter of Aquinos’ alleged heresy can be debated later, but we can all agree with young Farren’s motives. If the three High Marshals failed to return, it wouldn’t be prudent for the rest of the Iron Knights to emerge and try and search for them.”

(cont.)
>>
>>4840596
Reading this part, i'm so happy we picked Shadow in the beginning, the extra info and skills are just so usefull and cool
>>
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>>4840596
“But wouldn’t it just be awfully convenient,” counters Aure, “That after all the confusion and rise of the Empire, they’d be suspicious of somebody showing up on their front doorstep, claiming to be a Jedi? Because in their boots, I’d sure-as-hell be suspicious, even if we disregard the bad blood between them and the High Council.”

You shrug. “…I guess I’ll have to do a good job of convincing them that I’m the real deal.”

“In any event,” Larid cuts in, “It seems that the specifics of his mission have been established, and fulfills all of our requirements as a potential safehouse for Jedi. Farren, Ceyla…the two of you are free to go. Grab some dinner, some shuteye, and then do your preparations for the journey tomorrow.”

Ceyla frowns. “Will you not be joining us, masters?”

Kosa smiles softly. “Unfortunately, not quite so soon. We still have a few things to discuss…”

>>Regarding the subject of Alleana…

You interrupt them, but not so abruptly. “Actually, there’s one more thing that I need to discuss with you. Specifically, the Triumvirate as a whole.”

What are you doing, Farren? asks the look in your master’s eyes. He, out of all of the Triumvirate, seems to be the most surprised.

Ignoring him, you turn to Ceyla and gently say, “Much as I’d like for you to hear this, I’m afraid that this is a…sensitive matter. Why don’t you go meet up with the rest of the Kadachi younglings? You might be too busy tomorrow to say your goodbyes prior to the mission.”

Your padawan seems reluctant at first, but thinks on it and nods in agreement. “Alright. Please don’t take too long, Master Farren.”

“Of course not. And I promise to not make this a habit.”

Only once the miraluka departs from the room, and the bulkhead is sealed shut and airtight do you answer the questioning looks. With a heavy, shuddering breath of emotion, you look each member of the Triumvirate in the eyes, then ask:

“I want you to tell me about my mother. Alleana Gaelle…I believe you three were in the same Youngling Clan together?”

They react as if you’d punched them, or otherwise said something off-color. The blood drains from Kosa’s already pale face, and the hologram of Aure chokes on her own spit. Larid’s eyes widen, pupils dilating before he puts his face in between his hands. “…dammit, Farren…” he groans.

In an instant, the two other masters turn on him. But even as Kosa’s opening her mouth, Aure shouts, “YOU TOLD HIM?!”

The Shadow holds up his hands defensively. “Hey, don’t go looking at me! He figured it out first, then came to me for answers. And besides! There’s no more Jedi High Council breathing down our necks to keep the secret in the first place. So take it up with the Sith-”

“That isn’t the point, Brethon,” sighs Kosa, pinching the bridge of her nose. “Granted, you aren't wrong, but we all agreed to tell him together."

(cont.)
>>
>>4840681
I need some popcorn
>>
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>>4840681
“Excuse me,” you say, just a tad bit forcefully to pull their attention to you before they can lose themselves in a bickering match. “I did ask Master Larid about Alleanna, but he’s telling the truth. I learned about her before I approached him. So…you shouldn’t be angry at him.”

“Really?” The consular crosses her arms as her brow furrows into a deep frown. “So, how’d you figure it out? Was that information also in his navicomputer?”

“Aure,” warns Larid sharply.

Ah, to hell with subtlety. With a slight frown at the zabrak’s crass remark, you answer: “…she told me herself during my Trial of Spirit…which was strangely fitting considering that her spirit was summoned in the Heart of Kakarit.”

Utter. Disbelief. Aure’s mouth works, but nothing seems to be coming out from the communication array. Kosa’s gaze narrows sharply, a request for clarification on the tip of her tongue as a fellow survivor of Kakarit. All the while, Larid mutters something about more opportune moments.

“Explain yourself, Farren Gaelle,” demands the guardian. The tone of voice brokers no nonsense, and you catch a glimpse of how Uyer Kosa could have dealt with Arotta.

But, you digress. You give an abridged account of your Trial of Spirit, your duel with the Accuser of Pilgrims and the talk you had with your mother. You omit very little, mostly those concerning the list of planets Alleana had given you. Especially O’Haon, more for Master Larid’s sake than your own.

“…an altar that could bind the spirits of the dead?” Kosa says slowly. Then, she shudders. “Were it not for Jombaral, I’d have had a hard time believing you. A vison, perhaps, considering you were in the center of a Force nexus. It’s not uncommon for Jedi to experience premonitions or impossible images."

You shrug. “I did think something similar at first. But the fact that I had the spear in my hand, my broken arm was healed, and I ached in all the places where the Accuser struck me.”

Larid holds his silence. He’s heard the accounting from you. It’s the others on the Triumvirate that need…convincing? That would be the wrong word. Mad as your story sounds, they can sense that you’re telling the truth about all of it. Which makes for questions about death and the Force, as well as the nature of the Kakari’s unique application of their magics.

“I already promised that I’d go looking into it,” says your master, assuring Kosa about the issue of Force-sensitive Kakari. “Just to make sure that they aren’t tapping into the Dark Side for anything-”

He isn’t able to finish. Aure hadn’t said anything either, merely chewing on her lip, then starting when you mentioned the fact that Alleana was dead. But all of a sudden, she interjects, “These Kakari shamanka…this Communion of Spirits is able to speak with the dead? Among other rituals involving the displacement and merging of souls?”

(cont.)
>>
>>4840745
She's going to ask about her, isn't she?
>>
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>>4840745
You frown, uncertain of where she’s going. “Erm…yes? Although I only got as much knowledge as I needed as context for fighting the Herald of Jombaral. And honestly, it was really unsettling at times! Bos just seemed so…cavalier regarding the manipulation of souls-”

As you speak, the zabrak’s eyes flicker briefly towards the reliquary. Then you understand immediately. Your eyes meet, but you look away just as quickly. Even through the hologram, you know for a fact that you share the same thought: to her, someone like a daughter in all but blood. To you, a sister and friend from the earliest memories of your life.

Maybe, just maybe…the Communion of Spirits would be able to cure and revive Kristen Corrho.

…but you don’t know. You honestly don’t know. The extent of your knowledge of the Communion is Spirit Fire, but you have a feeling that the zabrak won’t accept that as an answer. Not when there’s an enclave of Force-sensitive priests that could very well be the key to restoring her padawan. And that both as a consular and a zabrak, there isn't anything that words can't solve to get what she wants.

“…I’ll ask the Kakari about it when I get back,” you mutter, as much a promise to yourself to further your knowledge, as well as a shield between the zabrak and the Kakari. “They’ll speak to me.”

You pause, gathering your breath before you continue, “…but that’s not what I’m asking, with all due respect. My mother, Alleana Gaelle, was your fellow youngling in Prowling Vronskr. She was padawan underneath Master Motere, disappeared after a pirate raid gone wrong, and left the order when she was expecting me.

“What happened to her after her separation from Master Motere is a mystery I promise to solve. But since you three apparently promised to tell me the truth, in spite of the promise that the High Council extracted from you…”

You bow low, even further down than what’s expected, ending at a near perpendicular angle to the ground. “…I want to know about my mother.”

>>Line Break

By the time you leave, twilight is nearly upon the spaceport and you are utterly exhausted. But the scent of good food enervates your body, soothes the headache forming in the back of your head. And whoever Master Larid got to cater the whole thing certainly went out of their way to impress the resident Jedi. Your lifestyle is that of moderation, but damn if your stomach isn’t grumbling like an angry rancor.

But just before you can go inside the barracks, and into the hall of warmth and celebration, you sense someone next to you, then a familiar voice: “Hey, Farren! Look alive.”

Hovering by the door, Arotta Bashur balances two plates on her good arm. One is noticeably more loaded with food than the other, specifically that of meats and other sources of protein. More likely than not Arotta’s, considering how much body mass was lost during her bout of madness in the Heart of Kakarit.

(cont.)
>>
Quietly, you thank her and accept the offered plate. But you only manage a few chews before she drawls, “You’ve been really busy a whole lot, Farren?”

“Bwah?”

She rolls her eyes, shaking her head and montrals in a light fit of laughter. “Eloquent as ever, I see. But Force me. You can really keep a girl waiting.”

Swallowing, you offer a tired grin, and jerk your head towards the Bantha. “Yeah, sorry about that. Just that the Triumvirate and I had more things to discuss than either of us anticipated.”

“I can imagine. What this being your first official mission for them as a Jedi Knight.” She pauses, eyeing you up and down. “But I mean that this is the first time in…five days that I’ve seen you since our little talk in the hospital. Is that what you meant by ‘see you later?’”

Oh kriff.

Somehow, you manage to swallow both your food and the extra lump in your throat. But before you can say anything, your lover breaks out into a grin. She sets her food down, and lightly slugs you on the arm. “I’m kidding, I’m kidding. I get that you’re busy. That much hasn’t changed since the war’s start. You and Master Larid’ve always been running or hurrying after someone’s trail or a wild lead.

“But I’m glad I was able to catch you before you left.” It’s slightly awkward with one arm in a sling, but she hesitantly pulls you in close with her good arm. Only after double-checking that no-one’s watching, she leans her forehead against yours. “…or before you got really busy. Because if the last four days are anything to go by…it’s gonna be hard to take moments like these.”

Then you’d best make the most of your time. You both promised to explore your feelings together. Masters Larid and Aure know that something’s going on, especially the former more so than the latter. And while you aren’t expecting everything to just change overnight or so drastically in the course of five days…

Dammit.

>>How will you respond to Arotta?
>Gently remind her that while your romance isn’t overtly forbidden, your duty comes first.
>Sincerely apologize and offer her your company for the rest of the evening until tomorrow.
>Custom option. [Write-in]

>>Please write-in any questions you have for the Triumvirate concerning Alleana Gaelle.
>Custom option. [Write-in]

[VOTE OPEN FOR 10 HOURS]
>>Please structure your votes like this:
>Arotta response.
>Alleana questions.
>>
>>4840770
>>Sincerely apologize and offer her your company for the rest of the evening until tomorrow.
shrug. I have no idea where this ship is sailing

The alleana thing was more for them than for info, so I don't have much.
>What kind of lightsaber did she use? I expect she might've changed up some parts, but I'd like a hint incase anyone tries to claim they have the genuine article.
>Do they have any information on this group of pirates? They could also have shifted to recruiting force-sensitives in the past few years.
>>
>>4840770
>Sincerely apologize and offer her your company for the rest of the evening until tomorrow.
Yeah, we're gonna be busy, SUPER busy, for the foreseeable future...but that just means that what time we do have free is a bit more important.

>Are there any practical concerns we should know about? Any particular affinities in the force or or any potential health concerns we could have inherited?
(I know the latter is SUPER unlikely, but it seems the kind of practical question Jedi would appreciate)
>If you'd all agreed that you were going to tell me, when were you planning on doing so and why put it off so long?

I feel like there's a ton more TO ask, but my brain's not giving me anything that's a concrete question at the moment.
>>
>>4840770
>“But I mean that this is the first time in…five days that I’ve seen you since our little talk in the hospital. Is that what you meant by ‘see you later?’”

Hahahahaha, shiiiiiet. I knew this was coming when I realised we hadn't seen her since the hospital visit... I suspect the blueberry lovers have either departed or taken a sabbatical from the quest.

>Sincerely apologize and offer her your company for the rest of the evening until tomorrow.
I prefer Nomiana to be honest, but not only is she a question mark for the future, Arotta has first girl rights.

>>Please write-in any questions you have for the Triumvirate concerning Alleana Gaelle.
What was she actually like, as a person?
Thanks to the pictures I can't help but imagine Marie frolicking around with a lightsaber, which is just all kinds of wrong. And hilarious.
>>
>>4840770
>Sincerely apologize and offer her your company for the rest of the evening until tomorrow.

As for Mom...
>What kind of Jedi she was.
>Ask about how they found out about her leaving the order, and if there were any mentions about our father to them.
>Ask if there were any other Jedi members who might have been sympathetic to her situation, or at least willing to push back against her censure.
>Ask for a story about her... nothing too long or dramatic, just a good memory they have of her.
>Finally, mention that we know Uliea’s a safe haven (leaving out any astrological data, of course), but we’re just not yet ready to go emotionally. Not yet. Plus, y’know, we promised not to bring any uninvited guests of a sinister bent...
>>
>>4840770
>Sincerely apologize and offer her your company for the rest of the evening until tomorrow.

>What were her habits? What kind of books did she read? What was she like as a person?

>>4840813
>I suspect the blueberry lovers have either departed or taken a sabbatical from the quest.

For the record, this anon has voted for blueberry every time it's come up, but I've been outvoted.
>>
>>4840770
>>Arotta response.
>Sincerely apologize and offer her your company for the rest of the evening until tomorrow.

>>Alleana questions.
>What, if anything, did Alleana have to do with the Corsairs of the Sapphire Star? Are they the pirates we're looking for?
This is a bad idea, which is why I'm doing it.
>>
>>4840770
>Arotta response.>Sincerely apologize and offer her your company for the rest of the evening until tomorrow.

>Alleana questions.>What kind of Jedi she was.
>Ask about how they found out about her leaving the order, and if there were any mentions about our father to them.
>Ask if there were any other Jedi members who might have been sympathetic to her situation, or at least willing to push back against her censure.
>Ask for a story about her... nothing too long or dramatic, just a good memory they have of her.
>Finally, mention that we know Uliea’s a safe haven (leaving out any astrological data, of course), but we’re just not yet ready to go emotionally. Not yet. Plus, y’know, we promised not to bring any uninvited guests of a sinister bent...
>>
+1 to Corsairs of the Sapphire Star
Solid memory anon

In the morning we should look around for new crew mates and talk to Larid's as well.
>>
>>4840770
Arotta:
>Tell her that our duty does come first, but that that doesn't mean we intend to ignore her. Spend the evening with her.

I don't have any questions about mom
>>
>>4840770
>Sincerely apologize and offer her your company for the rest of the evening until tomorrow.
I'll let you lot ask the questions.
>>
>>4840770
>Sincerely apologize and offer her your company for the rest of the evening until tomorrow.
>>
>>4840770
>Gently remind her that while your romance isn’t overtly forbidden, your duty comes first.
>Corsairs of the Sapphire Star
>>
>>4840770
>Gently remind her that while your romance isn’t overtly forbidden, your duty comes first.

>What kind of Jedi she was.
>Ask about how they found out about her leaving the order, and if there were any mentions about our father to them.
>Ask if there were any other Jedi members who might have been sympathetic to her situation, or at least willing to push back against her censure.
>>
>>4840770
>>Sincerely apologize and offer her your company for the rest of the evening until tomorrow.
>>
>>4840836
Just thought of an additional question...

>In the extremely unlikely chance I see her again, is there anything you guys would want me to convey to her?
>>
>>4841236
>>4840836
And another one...

>Besides the Iron Knights, are there any other censured Jedi groups you know about that I should inform or check in on?
>>
>>4840770
>>Sincerely apologize and offer her your company for the rest of the evening until tomorrow.

>In the extremely unlikely chance I see her again, is there anything you guys would want me to convey to her?
>Besides the Iron Knights, are there any other censured Jedi groups you know about that I should inform or check in on?
>>
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>>4840779
>>4840798
>>4840813
>>4840836
>>4840846
>>4840886
>>4840909
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>>4841007
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>>4841307

>>If you all agreed that you were going to tell me, when were you planning on doing it, and why put it off for so long?

“We were going to wait until you had become a Knight,” Aure grumbles, “And to hell with what the High Council would’ve said.”

Kosa’s voice is sympathetic: “We waited to make sure that you would be able to properly handle the revelation. At the very least, I think that it would have been the wrong choice to break this to you when you were a padawan, let alone a youngling.”

“Whoever left you at the temple left you there for a reason,” adds Larid, “As opposed to some Coruscanti orphanage or wherever your mother disappeared off to. They wanted you to become a Jedi. It would’ve been remiss of us to ignore that.”
“You gave me up to the Jedi Order when I was only a newborn.”

“…you were,” she answers quietly, a complicated expression on her face, “…but it’s more complicated than that…”


>>What was she actually like as a person?

The guardian answers, “An enigmatic child.”

The shadow mutters, “An attentive friend.”

The consular snorts, “An utter goblin brat.”

The Triumvirate looks at each other’s myriad responses, and then share a heavy breath. Larid is the first to elaborate, sighing, “…a complicated person, Force help us all. Your mother was all of those things, and more. She was as best a friend as any one of us could ever have…so full of life and energy.”

“But Allie could really cut loose with that energy when the masters weren’t looking,” drawls Aure. “There were times where she would pester the Temple Guards to try and get a reaction out of them. A handful of food fights and prank wars instigated between youngling clans…and who could forget that one time she decided to go skinny dipping in the Room of a Thousand Fountains-!”

“Don’t forget that you played co-conspirator for several of those, Aure…” Fosa pinches the bridge of her nose, and her eyes close as if some long-forgotten memory returns to the front of her mind. “Force, there was that whole phase where she took to eating dried squid for three weeks straight. I think it was some Coruscanti craze that got imported from an oceanic world in the Mid Rim.”

Larid barks a harsh peal of laughter. “I remember that. Scared the living daylights out of poor Ulbaub when he came into the dorm to see a half-chewed squid dangling out of Alleana's mouth. She at least had the sense to apologize for eating something that came a bit too close in resembling a Mon Calamari.”

As the three masters trade stories of a terror of a youngling, you feel the mental image you have of Alleana Gaelle, serene and graceful and composed and gentle, suffer extensive, irreparable damage.

(cont.)
>>
I hope to god we see Mom again in some way, just to see her face when we ask her about any of these stories.
>>
>>4844569

“I think, though,” interjects Larid as he notices the despairing look on your face, “Beyond all other things, your mother was spontaneous and honest. She didn’t shy away from pointing out things that she liked, or things that she disliked. Determined as well, I’ll add. Mistakes made during training were just speedbumps on the path of life.”

Kosa nods. “All true. As a matter of fact, your mother shaped up once she actually became a padawan. The extra responsibilities curbed some of her more…enthusiastic ventures as she stepped out of the Temple and into the wider galaxy.”

Aure sneezes, shivering as an unseen wind blows at her robes. “Did it, though? Allie took to meditating buck naked in the Room of a Thousand Fountains to ‘better feel the Living Force’ of all the life that was growing there. I did it once just to humor her, and the soil got everywhere.”

“Curbed, not outright eliminated.” Your master grimaces as if he could hear the mental image of your mother suffer another catastrophic blow. “But suffice to say that Alleana Gaelle was a complicated woman, but a very good friend to have. You’ll never find another woman like her, either out in the galaxy or in the Jedi Temple.”

Of that, you have absolutely no doubt.

>>What kind of Jedi was she?

“She certainly restrained herself under the watchful eyes of Master Motere,” recalls Kosa. The guardian shifts in her seat slightly, grimacing as she adjusts the position of her broken arm. “There were shades of her enigmatic, and somewhat mischievous side, but in the short time she was apprenticed to Master Motere, Alleana was perhaps an exemplar of an utterly average padawan.”

Larid observes, “Again, I reiterate that Alleana was so full of life and energy. Perhaps more than could be contained in her body, even if it didn’t outright translate into power in the Force. Decent enough in a spar, but nothing to write back to the temple about.”

“But there was…I dunno, a tension she always had,” recalls Aure with a frown. “Didn’t take me until a few years ago to get the gist of what she was saying. You remember that little ditty she told us about?”

“Unconditional love,” the guardian answers. “She found it troubling that as Jedi, compassion for life is central to our beliefs. A love of life, which she certainly had in leaps and bounds. And yet, she struggled with the paradox of loving all, yet loving no one at all.”

Your master coughs perhaps a tad bit too harshly. Considering the morning’s accounting of his own experiences in love, you don’t blame him in the slightest. “Well, she was certainly fond of us at the time. Still fond enough to at least give us notice of her disappearance as opposed to just leaving us in the dark.”

Aure scowls. “Don’t bring it up, Brethon. I’m still pissed that she did that instead of at least telling us face-to-face.”

(cont.)
>>
>>Ask for a story about her, nothing too long or dramatic, just a good memory.

“It was just after the Gathering,” answers Kosa, a rare smile breaking across her lips. “All of us in Prowling Vornskr had just gotten our lightsaber crystals, but the snowstorms on Ilum had worsened to the point where we couldn’t depart for the transport. The attending master had us make shelter in the temple until the storm abated.”

“Right, right…” mutters Aure, slipping into the memory. “And Allie wasn’t able to sit still for more than too long. She started walking around the temple, looking for anything to distract her from just freezing her butt on the frozen stones. And she actually found something that wasn’t ice and snow!”

Larid’s smile is genuine, not quite nearly as forced as it had been during the summit, or during his promise to bring vengeance to the Storyteller. “It’s tradition for some Jedi to etch or carve their adventures into the walls of the ice caves. But it seemed that someone had bucked tradition and instead took to adding a few ‘decorations’ to the interior of the antechamber. Nothing too big, but just something hidden underneath the cloak of one of the hooded statues.”

“We must have sat there for at least an hour,” recalls the twi’lek, “Reading as best we could with the dim light provided by our crystals.”

“Damn near damaged my eyesight, but they were more interesting than just waiting for the ice to melt.” Aure sniffs, clearing her throat. “And not wanting to be outdone, Allie decided to take a rock and add our names to the statue. A mark left by the four of us that said ‘we were here’, four younglings looking forward to becoming padawans.”

>>What were her habits? What kind of books did she read?

“Beyond meditating or exploring new places in varying states of nudity?” snarks Aure.

“Don’t traumatize my former apprentice,” Larid scolds.

Kosa hums to herself, thinking about your question before answering, “Alleana was always fond of encyclopedias. She did read to enlighten herself, but more to add planets and sights to see on a travel list. It wouldn’t do for her to simply live vicariously through documentaries and testimonies.”

“How…interesting,” you manage to say. What goes unspoken is ‘how unlike a Jedi’, but it seems that the Triumvirate caught onto that as well. Jedi shouldn’t be in the business of seeking adventure.

“Well, I don’t think she managed to get far into her list,” grumbles the zabrak. “Or maybe she did? Damned if I know where Master Motere took her to.”

>>What kind of lightsaber did she use? I expect that she might’ve changed up some parts, but I’d like a hint in case someone tries to claim the genuine article?

“She favored a green lightsaber, with a brown leather grip,” answers Kosa, “With a blade longer than most to compensate for her reach. Built specifically to use in conjunction with Soresu."”

(cont.)
>>
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Larid nods. “I remember her scratching the Jedi Code on the ‘saber’s body, just hidden beneath the wrapping. It’ll only be the real deal if any lightsaber you come across has that etched into it.”

>>Are there any practical concerns I should know about? Any particular affinities in Force power or any health concerns passed onto me?

“Beyond an unusual coloration of her hair, I don’t think so.” Aure’s hologram squints, as if she could improve the resolution of the tightbeam without adjusting the communicator. “…which you’ve only seemed to come into. Brethon, he hasn’t been dyeing his hair, has he?”

“It’s…a recent development,” you admit. “And no, it’s all natural.”

“…huh. Guess that settles if whether or not Allie was a natural silver. Guess you got your brown hair from your old man.”

Kosa clears her throat, not failing to notice the way you twitch in irritation. “As for Force powers, the fact that you have an affinity for Alter-type abilities speaks enough for itself.”

>>Were there any other Jedi sympathetic to her situation, or at least willing to push back against her censure and subsequent deletion from the archives?

Larid sighs. “Qui-Gon Jinn was already a maverick to the Council. He was one of the few who was outspoken enough to push back against their decision to remove Alleana from the archives.”

You feel a pang of an uncertain emotion. Qui-Gon Jinn…apprentice to Count Dooku, master of Obi-wan Kenobi, sponsor and founder of Anakin Skywalker on Tatooine all those years ago during the Invasion of Naboo. The Force has a very strange sense of humor...

“For all the good it did,” grouses Aure, and brings you out of your thoughts. “I mean, don’t get me wrong, we all appreciated the gesture. But master he might’ve been, he wasn’t on the Council.”

“Was there anyone else?” you ask. “Specifically on the High Council.”

Kosa thinks on it, and starts ticking off fingers. “Master Yaddle was a notable voice of opposition. And in the brief moment he sat on the council, so was Master Sifo-Dyas. Master Giiett was of the opinion that your arrival was the ‘will of the Force’. Sha’s uncle, Master Koon, was only freshly appointed, and had recused himself as he lacked the experience.”

The math checks out. Three in opposition, one recusing…and by what seems to be an overwhelming eight in favor for striking Alleana Gaelle from the roster of Jedi, past and present. An irrational spike of anger stirs to life in your heart. Not even the Lost Jedi, let alone Count Dooku a.k.a. Darth Tyrannus, had ever gotten such a treatment!

“Come to think of it,” opines the zabrak with a thoughtful expression, “I remember Master Nu in a bad mood after the Council voted to delete Allie’s entry from the archives. So…maybe the Chief Librarian had objections, although that could’ve been out of pride for her archives as opposed to any sympathy for Allie.”

(cont.)
>>
>>What, if anything, does Alleana have to do with the Corsairs of the Sapphire Star? Are they the pirates we’re looking for?

Aure’s the only one out of the loop in regards to that bit of information. Larid knows from your recounting of your Trial of Spirit. Kosa had been there when the Herald of Jombaral hissed it out before you killed him. It doesn’t take long to enlighten the consular with that tidbit of information.

“There were a number of pirates and privateers working down the Hydian Way,” answers Kosa readily enough. “These were either single-ship operators, going all the way up to organized criminal syndicates. But in my years as a Peacekeeper, I’ve never heard of this organization.”

“Maybe they’re affiliated with the Blazing Chain,” Larid speculates. “A splinter group, perhaps?”

Aure frowns. “Not likely. Allie got lost in the Outer Rim, but nowhere near close to the Unknown Regions.”

“Nevertheless,” cuts in Kosa, “The fact that the Herald of Jombaral saw fit to warn young Gaelle about these Corsairs is enough warning.”

“Hmnh.” Then, to you, the zabrack asks, “Did this Herald say anything else?”

You hesitate. “…only about the fact that my father isn’t who my mother made him out to be.”

All eyes of the Triumvirate turn sharply towards you. Larid’s eyes glitter with a fierce intensity, and in a low voice asks, “What did the Herald mean by that?”

“When our minds touched, I saw the circumstances of his birth. The taboo that his mother, Boscuatl, had committed, and the events that led up to his contact with Jombaral. Which means, by deductive reasoning, he got a glimpse at, uh...how I was made and who my father is. Not that he was about to tell me, the pale-scaled bastard.”

Aure suddenly looks very interested. “And what did Allie say about him? Whatever the hell’s disputed about what she said?”
You shrug helplessly. “Nothing concrete. He buried her on the highest cliff of her homeworld, facing towards the sunrise. And that if I was to see him, that she wanted him to know that she still loved him. And that her homeworld would be ground to dust before she stopped.”

The Triumvirate shares an uneasy look. Decades of camaraderie enable them to speak without opening their mouths, communicating in minute movements and miniscule gestures. It’s a shot in the dark as to what they’re saying, but you know that it isn’t good.

Eventually, Kosa says, “We won’t waste your time by speculating as to what either of them meant by that. And I suggest that you do the same, given your upcoming journey.”

“Of course, master,” you dutifully answer. Then, you add, “Mind you, the Herald tried to gaslight me just before I killed him. Something about how he could’ve saved the Kakari and their planet from the solar flare that brought the drought to Kakarit. So…it could be just a final stab at me out of spite?”

The masters don’t believe it either.

(cont.)
>>
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>>Do you have any information on this group of pirates? They could’ve also shifted to recruiting Force-sensitives in the past few years.

“We’ll look into it, kid,” promises Aure, “So don’t go doing your own digging until after you find us a safe haven for the Jedi.”

“Indeed.” Kosa seems to be particularly troubled. “I thought the matter laid to rest with Master Motere’s death, and the subsequent end of the pirate raids. Whether or not these Corsairs of the Sapphire Star are the pirates that separated her and Alleana, or otherwise have re-emerged onto the galactic scene are equally troubling.”

>>Mention that you know where Uliea is, and that it’s a definite safe haven. But you aren’t emotionally ready to travel, and you promised to not bring guests of a sinister bent.

“Good!” all members of the Triumvirate shout. Then, realizing their outburst, cough and adjust themselves.

“What we mean to say,” Kosa smoothly intones, “Is that you’ve made a very wise decision.”

“Most would be in an awful hurry to go to their homeworld,” notes Aure. “So…take your time to find your balance, okay, kid?”

Larid chortles dryly. “But, really. Alleana thinks that we’re ‘guests of a sinister bent?’ It’s not like we have the Sith hot on our heels…”

>>Besides the Iron Knights, are there any other censured Jedi groups that I should check up on?

“The Green Jedi,” Aure says without hesitation, “Or the Corellian Jedi. Definitely them. Force me, negotiating with them was a nightmare due to the fact that there’s something in the air that causes them to be argumentative.”

“Not unlike yourself,” mutters Larid.

The zabrak makes a very unlady-like gesture. “But case in point, kid, is that they’re definitely the oddballs, and how they got a charter from the High Council is a mystery. Given how much in the public eye they are, I’d bet one of my lightsabers that the Sith have a target on them.”

Kosa brings her hand to her chin, looking up to the ceiling in a pensive expression. “The Altisian Jedi, founded by Master Dijnn Altis. When last I heard, they had a headquarters on Bespin, but Master Altis based his order out of a ship that traveled from underdeveloped worlds and backwaters that needed their aid the most. It would be very hard to find them.”

“…Teepo Paladins as well,” grouses Larid, rubbing the stubble beneath his jaw, “Strutting around with their blasters on their hips. Better than than the Grey Paladins, though. They’re both militant, but the Grey Paladins take it a step further…

“…but this one doesn’t leave the room, understand?” He glances to the other members of the Triumvirate, then to you. Once he’s ascertained your silence, he continues, “Potentium. Master Yoda expelled them a hundred years ago from the Order. And for once, I agree with him, considering the fact that the Potentium doesn't believe in the Dark Side of the Force.”

(cont.)
>>
>>4845017
Well lads, if we truly plan to get better at shooting, better pay the teepo a visit in the future.
>>
>>4845017

Of course, this isn’t including all of the various ethnic Force-sensitive groups scattered across the myriad species of the galaxy. Larid promises to give you a list, just to keep an eye out for, and not otherwise actively seek.

>>In the extremely unlikely chance that I see her again, do you guys want me to say anything to her?

“…tell her that I fulfilled her promise,” says Larid softly, “And that I finally understood what she meant.”
The others frown at his words, but Larid offers no further elaboration. You apprehend their meaning well enough.

Kosa is next. She thinks for it, chewing on her words, then intones, “Tell her that I give thanks for almost two decades of sisterhood. I would not have traded it for anything else, the good and the bad alike.”

Last is Aure. The zabrak snorts, shaking her head, “…she still owes me a thousand credits. And that I wish I could’ve seen her face one last time…”

>>>>With Arotta

>You have gained influence with Arotta.

Her lips part in a smile, and the canines catch the dim light of the spaceport. “I’m not mad, but consider your apology accepted. Thank you, pinkskin.”

“I know when I’ve been an ass,” you sigh as you shovel food into your mouth. “I should’ve visited, but…acht, things’ve been busy lately.”

“I mean, it’s probably better if you didn’t…” She tilts her head back, rolling her shoulders and her good arm. “…I don’t like being bedridden. And I still had some really intensive physical therapy to get under my belt.”

“Sorry about your ribs…and your arm,” you offer past a mouthful of mystery meat and what you suspect to be a local take on grits. “But in my defense, you were about to eat me.”

Arotta makes a face. “Probably wouldn’t have liked it. Even if you do taste good, human meat’s way too stringy. I’d spend weeks getting strands of muscle fiber out of my teeth.”

“…I’m not even going to ask how you know that.”

She laughs, low and undulating. “I’d hoped that in spite of the Jombaral Juice setting me back a few evolutionary steps, I gave a good enough fight.”

“You did,” you answer sincerely. “Any slower, and I’d be on the menu.”

Arotta swats your arm lightly. “Yeah, but that duel doesn’t count. I was handicapped, so the win-loss ratio remains…”

“One hundred fifty-seven wins to one hundred forty-nine losses by my last reckoning.”

“…just out of curiosity, you aren’t counting when we make each other-”

“Force, no! Only lightsaber duels, you lewd woman.”

“Okay, good. Because those numbers seemed low.”

“I only started taking account when we became padawans,” you deadpan, “And not when we were younglings just waving our training sabers like primates with sticks.”

(cont.)
>>
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She doesn’t immediately answer, letting you finish your dinner relatively quickly. Once you’re done, you take your plate, and set it down just at the entrance to the barracks. But just as she’s about to follow you in, you block the way.

“What’s wrong?” she asks with a frown.

You exhale, looking at her, then away from the door towards the spaceport. “…I’ve got the whole day ahead of me to get my ship ready. I might have some time tomorrow evening just before I leave, but now…”

Pausing, you extend a hand, and jerk a head away from the Jedi private berth, towards the city lights of Serano Spaceport. “…you wanna get away for a little bit? Sunrise won’t be for another twelve hours.”

She stares at the offered hand, then back to you. And with a grin, she accepts. “…you know, I think we’re doing this backwards. Don’t most non-Jedi go out of their way to establish a dating relationship before they end up in each other’s beds?”

“More likely than not,” you agree, even as you feel a twinge of guilt as Nomiana’s face comes to mind. “…although I’ve seen my fair share of anecdotes and holo comedies that suggest otherwise.”

“Holo comedies…I think I saw a few of those from mission to mission with Master Kosa during the war. Multi-million credit productions that could’ve been spent on something far more useful.”

“I can think of a few things,” you dryly retort as you steer her away from the barracks. “And I’m so sorry if that’s all you had to survive with during the transit from one campaign to the next.”

“Wasn’t all that bad. Military drama night became comedy night with the Clones performing interactive theater.”

You pause, considering something. “…Arotta, so about Commander Skipp…”

“A good man who’d I’d stake my life on,” she answers seriously, and stares straight into your eyes. “He’s here, isn’t he? Master Kosa said that he and a few of the Clones managed to escape with us from Kakarit.”

Nodding, you answer, “Yeah, he’s currently camping out with the Mercantors in the Globus. The, uh…the large Lucrehulk Control Sphere that’s parked outside of the city.”

“It’s hard to miss…” snarks the togruta, but her tone brokers no nonsense. “…Skipp’s a good man. Saved my and Master Kosa’s life plenty of times, just as we’d saved his.”

“I believe it,” you say sincerely. “I saw him firsthand in action during the Battle for Nest’s End. It’s just that he and the other survivors are camping out since, uh…the atmosphere is still tense for a few of the Jedi.”

Sympathy gathers in her eyes. “Master Aure’s clones turned on her and Kristen. And Torok’s clone squadron shot his master out of space. I’m not discounting that. They have every right to be angry at the Clones. But mine and Master Kosa's were too busy being mind-raped by a Force abomination to betray us.”

(cont.)
>>
“And I don’t want them taking it out on them,” you finish. “Just as I think you don’t want that either. It’d be a waste after all they’ve been through, and what they can still provide. Master Aure and Torok just need some time…and perhaps a few words…”

Pausing, you remember what Skipp had said, then venture, “You know, they made me Acting-Commander since you and Master Kosa were hospitalized. Do you…when you get better, do you want them back?”

Arotta thinks about it…then shrugs and entwines her arm in yours. It takes a few attempts to get the posture correct. “…we can talk about that later. You said we have twelve hours before sunrise? I can think of a few things we can do even with my busted arm. But this is our first real date, isn’t it?”

“Unless you count the field of battle in the few instances we’ve been deployed together,” you quip as you exit the drydock, and into the open night of Amagi.

>>…
>>…you took Arotta on a tour of Serano Spaceport, and highlighted several noticeable areas.
>>…you made certain to steer clear of the Tipsy Toffer, even though Ingmar hasn’t been released on his parole yet.
>>…you spent a long time with Arotta, and bid her good night as it was approaching sunrise.

>>You have gained influence with Arotta.

>>The following day...

>>>This is your last day on Amagi prior to your departure for Dweem!
>>>Currently, you have 5/8 berths on the {Albatross} filled.
>>>You can fill the berths on the {Albatross} to capacity, but will find yourself hard-pressed to accommodate extra guests if you so wish to do so on your journey to Dween.

>>Please pick up to three(3) potential avenues of recruitment:
>Ask the Mercantors if you can borrow one of their Seppie battle droids.
>Go to the market square and search for an astromech droid to buy.
>Inquire about hiring elite and discrete mercenaries from the local populace.
>Pay a visit to the Clones and ask Skipp for one of his men to accompany you.
>Swing by the Kakari Enclave and recruit either a warrior or shamanka.
>Custom option. [Write-in]

[VOTE OPEN FOR EIGHT HOURS]
>>
>>4845058
>>Pay a visit to the Clones and ask Skipp for one of his men to accompany you.
We meeting shard droids. Clone knowledge and military survivorship might be useful.

>Ask the Mercantors if you can borrow one of their Seppie battle droids.
>Go to the market square and search for an astromech droid to buy.

It's entirely possible we might find Shards who wanna go exploring. And it's not like the Iron Knights necessarily have a lot of droids on hand. Even droids bettter as scrap in a hold might be worth something if there are any "young" shards without bodies.
>>
>>4845058
Also maybe open the time for longer than 8 hours. US holiday atm, lotta people might now be able to.
>>
>>4845058
>Go to the market square and search for an astromech droid to buy.
>Pay a visit to the Clones and ask Skipp for one of his men to accompany you.
>Swing by the Kakari Enclave and recruit either a warrior or shamanka.
>>
>>4845086
Support, I just want one of the Lizard bois to be an intern of sorts.
>>
>>4845058
>Go to the market square and search for an astromech droid to buy.

Separatist battle droids are the furthest thing from discreet, except for commando droids, and having more than the one we have would likely catch quite a bit of attention.

Not to mention, we'll likely come across more potential companions in the future so we'll want some spare berths.

Just get an astromech to round out our current crew's skillset and leave us with two spare berths.
>>
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nomi-san is cute today too
>>
>>4845058
>Go to the market square and search for an astromech droid to buy.
As much as I want to further pad our crew with droids, >>4845118 is right. I'm sure we'll find more special droids eventually though.
>>
>>4845058
>>Go to the market square and search for an astromech droid to buy.
>>Inquire about hiring elite and discrete mercenaries from the local populace.

>5/8 berths
B-33 get's a bed? Figured he could just power down in a broom closet or something.
>>
>>4845058
>Swing by the Kakari Enclave and recruit either a warrior or shamanka.

>Go to the market square and search for an astromech droid to buy.
>>
>>4845058
>Pay a visit to the Clones and ask Skipp for one of his men to accompany you.
>Swing by the Kakari Enclave and recruit either a warrior or shamanka.

And, if we got enough time, look at getting a small blaster pistol for Ceyla to train with. Either the Clones or the Globus might have a spare they'll be willing to write off.

Anybody have any other things we should get before we leave? The only other things I can think of is a few bottles of Toffie 59, that recipe for the Scumjumper Special Riven's been working on, and an automatic blaster pistol for covering fire and dual wielding.
>>
>>4845201
>Anybody have any other things we should get before we leave?

If we have the chance, we might finally check out that bunker.
>>
>>4845058
>Go to the market square and search for an astromech droid to buy.
>Pay a visit to the Clones and ask Skipp for one of his men to accompany you.

We need an astromech droid, always useful.
And clones are cool.


>>4845201
We really should not try teaching her blaster tricks when she's still a total noob at normal jedi stuff. Leave the fancy extra shit for later.
>>
>>4845246
We can still mod it to only fire in stun mode, then change it back when she's ready to use it properly. Or just give her a stun blaster.
>>
>>4845085
Yeah, that's fair.

[VOTING WINDOW EXTENDED TO 6 PM EST]
>>
>>4845121
WAIT, KEK. Took me a hot minute to realize that’s Nomiana. I didn’t see the respirator tube for her armor until I opened up the image.

Nicely done!
>>
>>4845058
>>Go to the market square and search for an astromech droid to buy.
>>Pay a visit to the Clones and ask Skipp for one of his men to accompany you.
Does the Astromech take up a berth? We can just shove it into a closet.
>>
>>4845359
Going through my Star Wars FFG books, in Fly Casual there's a modification for ships called an Astrogation Droid Brain that doesn't take up a mod spot. Maybe we could get that as an option instead?
>>
>>4845121
Also, that's absolutely fuckin' adorable, it's enough to hope for another chance with Nomiana.
>>
>>4845273
The problem isn't the danger, it's wasting time
>>
>>4844699
So our mother was an exhibitionist. Great. Now I wish I hadn't asked.

Funny thing really. In fiction, people ALWAYS start from childhood when they have to describe someone. Wouldn't the later years be more... representative of the person as you remember them? I know if I had to describe my best friend I wouldn't start at kindergarten. Dude was a terror back then.
>>
>>4845602
If asking to borrow a leftover blaster takes longer than twenty or thirty minutes I'll eat the most hat-like article of clothing closest to me.
>>
>>4845673
Just having a left-over blaster is useless though, without training it might as well be a rock. And training takes time, time i think we can better spend on lightsaber forms or force techniques
>>
>>4840757
What's wrong with Kristen again? I thought she was frozen in that carbonite stuff Han got frozen in. Is she dead?
>>
>>4845763
Unavoidable plot irrelevance. Very tragic, no cure.
>>
>>4845825
The curse of being a first girl and childhood friend. You either become primary love interest or become a literally who.

Pour one out for the iced homie
>>
>>4845763
She is frozen in carbonite. Unfortunately, the Tof fucked up the process and she's been rendered braindead, even if she were to be thawed out right now. So we need to find a way to revive her from brain-death before we get her out of the carbonite.
>>
>>4845058
>>Ask the Mercantors if you can borrow one of their Seppie battle droids.
>Go to the market square and search for an astromech droid to buy.

I want my cute B1
>>
>>4846235
With or without the tits?
>>
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>>4846245
With, but with clothes on.

This with clothes on.
>>
>>4846253
This should count as a nega-vote.
>>
>>4846304
Negative vote?
>>
>>4846308
Yeah, few images posted on blue boards have made me feel such animalistic distress.
>>
>>4846311
Shit dude don't lie we've all beaten it to worse than that.
>>
>>4846347
Indeed.
>>
>>4845058
>>Go to the market square and search for an astromech droid to buy.
>Pay a visit to the Clones and ask Skipp for one of his men to accompany you.
>>
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>>4845738
You keep forgetting that we have a trait that helps us teach skills to her, and vice versa. Besides, lightsabers are pretty obvious signs of being a Jedi, and Force Powers also requires to learn them AND could out us as being a Jedi.

Don't forget, we're going to look for the Teepo Paladins eventually, so showing a willingness to learn the ins and outs of blasters and/or other weapons might give us an edge in talking with and understanding them.

>>4846311
Would something a bit more classy be more your speed?
>>
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>>4846373
A fellow man of culture here I see.
>>
>>4845058
>Go to the market square and search for an astromech droid to buy.
Get the spare parts ready for a shard receptacle.

>Swing by the Kakari Enclave and recruit either a warrior or shamanka.
A warrior. I don't think they can afford losing a shamanka at this stage.

>Last space blank
I'm not brushed up on my lore, but I'm pretty sure there's more options out there.
>>
>>4845641
It’s all well and good when a waifu is into kinky shit. But not so much for when their kids have to learn about it years after.
>>
>>4845763
A little bird told me that a woman on an uncharted moon has an ancient Jedi artifact that would be able to revive her.
>>
>>4846373
I see your point, but it i still don't think it measures up to the lost time. Lightsaber and force techniques are simply stronger. And she needs strength right now. I'm not fundamentally opposed to teaching her blaster skills, but I am opposed to teaching them NOW, when she still has no worthwile cqpabilities with our trademark skills.
>>
>>4845084
>>4845086
>>4845090
>>4845118
>>4845136
>>4845147
>>4845150
>>4845201
>>4845246
>>4845359
>>4846235
>>4846360
>>4846412

For those who celebrate Memorial Day, I hope you had a good one. Here's how I tallied out the vote:

The number of crewmates to be added...
>3 - 3
>2 - 8
>1 - 2

And of those crewmates...
>Astromech - 11
>Clone - 7
>Kakari - 5
>Seppie - 2

>>Line Break
>>The Globus, outskirts of Serano Spaceport

Skipp raises an eyebrow after you finish your explanation. “You want to take one of us with you.”

You nod. “I need a capable crew for this mission back into Republic space…or Imperial space, as it is now. I can’t think of any other group of soldiers more qualified for the task.”

The commander chortles. “The flattery’s appreciated, sir. Although I have to ask…is that a good idea? Because, by my last reckoning, you’re a stealthier bend of Jedi. I’d hate for you to be discovered because someone caught a glimpse of a clone gone A.W.O.L., not that it hasn’t happened before, mind you…”

“Push comes to shove, I can spray a fake tan or otherwise take a razor to your heads,” you offer. Master Larid’s closet of disguise holds more than extra clothing. How he managed to find the patience to apply makeup is a mystery for the galaxy to solve. “Besides, it’s not like I’m expecting you to wear your Phase II armor or strut around as if you were Jango Fett’s lost cousin.”

“So what is it that you do need, sir?” questions the Clone.

“…security and peace of mind, for one thing.” You look him straight in the eye. “And it’s a show of trust for the other Jedi. If this goes well…”

Then there wouldn’t be any more reason for the Clones to be in hiding, sequestered away from Serano Spaceport, but most importantly, away from the Jedi. The proof that you’re able to trust them, and take one of them into confidence into the Empire for a mission, speaks gravely of the trust you’ve placed in them…or whoever you decide to pick.

Skipp understands quickly enough. With a sharp whistle, he orders the clones in the hangar to fall into attention. Only when the last trooper falls in line does he join their ranks, heels together and helmets slung beneath their arms as they stare at the space above your shoulder. On their faces, you can slightly discern their emotions: lightly amused, fiercely determined…even as they all hold their breath, there’s no mistaking them for any other clone.

…come to think about it, this would only be the second time that you ever took Clones into battle! Master Larid would look askance at that. Kosa would undoubtably approve of your actions. But Torok and Aure definitely wouldn’t be nearly as understanding. The grudges from their clones seems to run very deep, and for a good reason. With this, hopefully you'll be able to actually let them out instead of keeping them cooped up in a metal hangar.

Damn you, Darth Sidious.

(cont.)
>>
Still, you don't have all day to look the Clones up and down like a sergeant admiring a parade of troops. You still have to go shopping for an astromech droid. The others would ensure that the necessary foodstuffs, munitions and supplies would be added onto the Albatross. Hopefully, the acquisition of an astromech would finally put the matter of a quartermaster to rest. It frees up Suzel to pilot and Elba to drag the former into helping out with the Albatross

And maybe, just maybe, if you have enough time in the evening, one last date with Arotta...

>>Which member of Scrapper Squad do you want to have accompany you? [Choose one(1)]
>Commander Skipp, an Alpha-class ARC-Trooper. Received special training from Jango Fett.
>Oann, Field Medic. He retains a cool and collected bedside manner even as the blaster bolts fly.
>Cooper, Ordinance Specialist. The very image of a “hearts and minds” posterboy, even with cybernetics.
>Stye, Blaze Trooper. Fond of off-color humor, and deadlier in a fight with wrist-mounted flamethrowers.
>Evo, AT-RT Scout Trooper. Spry and energetic, channels his energy into mechanics and his prized AT-RT.
>Trykov, Logistics Officer. An organizer with a talent for working as a bridge bunny or a turret gunner.
>Roppock, Infantry Trooper. No longer quite a stiff rookie, displaying early signs of independent thinking.

[VOTE OPEN FOR TWELVE HOURS]
>>
>>4846973
We cant take skipp, hes too important to the other clones

>Stye, Blaze Trooper
Between force fire and more subtle application of his flamethrower, we would have a very strong sabotage tool that doesn't directly scream military. Also Ceyla is going to have lots of fire practice
>>
>>4846973
Skipp would be the best choice by far, but we can't take him and leave the other clones leaderless especially when they still haven't gotten the hang of not waiting for orders to do everything.
>Trykov, Logistics officer
should cover the holes in our current lineup perfectly, though I am opposed to taking one of the clones as a permanent crewmember. His buddies will miss him.

I also just now realised I comoletely forgot to actually vote last time. Welp.
>>
>>4846973
>Trykov, Logistics Officer. An organizer with a talent for working as a bridge bunny or a turret gunner.
>>
>>4846973
>Stye, Blaze Trooper. Fond of off-color humor, and deadlier in a fight with wrist-mounted flamethrowers.
Should come in useful
>>
>>4846973
>Oann, Field Medic. He retains a cool and collected bedside manner even as the blaster bolts fly.

Someone to round out our crew's skillset, and one can never go wrong with bringing a healer.
>>
>>4846973
>>Oann, Field Medic. He retains a cool and collected bedside manner even as the blaster bolts fly.
>>
>>4846973
>>Trykov, Logistics Officer. An organizer with a talent for working as a bridge bunny or a turret gunner.
>>
>>4846973
>>Roppock, Infantry Trooper. No longer quite a stiff rookie, displaying early signs of independent thinking.
>>
>>4846973
>Cooper, Ordinance Specialist. The very image of a “hearts and minds” posterboy, even with cybernetics.
Skipp is too important and I think Stye would be too conspicuous.
>>
>>4846973
>Trykov, Logistics Officer. An organizer with a talent for working as a bridge bunny or a turret gunner.
>>
>>4846973
Trykov, Logistics Officer. An organizer with a talent for working as a bridge bunny or a turret gunner.
>>
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>>4847019
>>4847044
>>4847292
>>4847379
>>4847384
>>4847400
>>4847407
>>4847565
>>4847807
>>4848086

Even with the extra votes, Trykov won.

No one seems more surprised at your decision than the clone in question. Trykov stares, blinking in disbelief before he straightens as you approach. Once you give him the order to relax, you palm a piece of paper in his hands; directions to the dock that houses the Albatross

“You don’t need to come right away,” you reassure him. “Just pack up whatever it is you need to, and I’ll see you back on my ship.”

“Permission to speak, sir?” he blurts. Once granted, the logistics officer looks sheepish. “I’m honored that you chose me. I won’t let you or my brothers down. But if I might just ask…?”

Easy enough to answer. Tempting it is to grab Skipp, he’s still needed to help develop the Clones’ independence. Oann has both Master Kosa and Cooper as patients, with the former’s severe malnutrition and the latter’s new cybernetics necessitating constant watch. Stye might have gelled well with your Force Fire, but the Blaze Trooper lends himself to less covert operations. Evo wouldn’t be doing much without his AT-RT, and it might’ve been too early to invite Roppock given his shiny status.

It isn’t just process of elimination either. You did need that quartermaster roll filled. And who better to occupy it than a logistics officer? On top of all that, he’d performed well enough during the Battle of Nest’s End in the position of a turret gunner. A win-win in your books.

“Because you’re the right man for the job,” you answer simply, with a smile. “So I’ll see you on the pad no later than…say, 2600 hours local time?”

Trykov nods, saluting. “Sir! I’ll be there as soon as I can. I don’t have too much to pack, but I have to first make sure that I don’t come back to a pigsty. There’s no telling how messy the hangar’s going to be without my eye on things.”

As you return to the shuttle taking you back to the spaceport, you can hear a fierce, but friendly argument erupting among Scrapper Squad.

>>Serano Spaceport Market

Try as you might try to find him, the merchant that sold you B-33 and the head of HK-82 is nowhere to be found. Altos was certainly an interesting character, with an even more impressive set of merchandise and collection of droids. Hopefully, he made it off-world safely enough in the chaos of the revolution. You still need to introduce him to the Mercantors, and help the latter rebuild the army of the Globus.

In the vacuum of Altos, there are perhaps a handful of droid shops that have popped up across the spaceport. Not nearly as exotic as the droid merchant who swore by…the Flame, hadn’t it been? Huh. But coincidences aside, most run the gamut of selling inexpensive labor droids. One security droid here and there, even a protocol droid, but little that breaks the mold.

(cont.)
>>
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It’s the astromechs you’re looking for. And it certainly takes you the better part of the morning and afternoon, but you finally manage to track down a mechanist’s shop that has them in stock. Perhaps beyond the stock of the surprisingly short-supplied droids is the purveyor himself: a four-eyed, bipedal avian alien the likes of which you’d never seen before.

The shopkeeper squawks, bowling low upon your entry. The alien gestures to you, then the myriad series of droids and parts that line his shelves, ending with a what you perceive to be a question.

“Yeah, uh…” you clear your throat, and make a mental note to make a discrete inquiry into this one’s species. “I’m in the market for an astromech droid. Preferably one pre-assembled and ready to be taken for deep-space journeys within a day.”

He nods, trilling in understanding. Bending over, he pulls out a datapad, poking at the device with his talons before sliding it to you. As you take it in your hands, a long line of text streams across its surface…

>>Welcome to Meofytos’ Mechanical Menagerie!
>>First, allow me to thank you for choosing to shop at my business.
>>Second, allow me to apologize for my inability to communicate beyond hand gestures and trills.
>>I am still working on an electrolarynx to restore some semblance of speech.
>>The Tof who bought me took acid to my voice box so that I would only chirp and sing like one of her songbirds.
>>Your sympathy is appreciated, but nothing would make me feel better than for you to purchase my goods.
>>Half of my shop’s income go towards the cause to liberate more of my Sathari kindred from the Tof.

It’s hard not to wince, even as your eyes instinctively flicker to the self-introduced Sathari’s throat. His four eyes seem to roll slightly, as if this is the nth time that he’d received that particular look. But he parts his feathers, revealing the remnants of an ugly wound, where flesh seems to have melted together.

“…if you don’t mind me asking,” you cautiously venture, “…what happened to the Tof who owned you?”

Somehow, Meofytos’ beak manages to convey a smile as he runs one of his feathers beneath his throat, followed by a particularly harsh squawk.

“Good riddance, then.”

But now, onto business…

(cont.)
>>
>>Presuming that you wish to buy an astromech droid to serve in the same function as R2-D2, the droid you are purchasing comes with the [Repair Directives] as per the FFG rules, as well as rocket boosters.

>>Please select a chassis (appearance) for your astromech droid:
>R3 series.
>R4 series.
>R5 series.
>S19 series.
>Custom option. [Write-in]

>>Much like Hardpoints for weapons and ships, droids have unique features given to them upon the creation of the initial chassis.
>>Presumably, creating an upgraded chassis to replace the old one will allow you to add more unique features down the line, should you wish.

>>Please select one(1) of the following for a droid’s unique feature:
>Armor Plating. Increases the droid’s durability, allowing it to shrug off blaster fire that might otherwise melt through its chassis.
>Hidden Compartment. Doesn’t fit anything much larger than a blaster or a lightsaber, but has an extremely high DC against checks made to detect the compartment.
>Modular Hardware. Install a cybernetic implant (i.e. Neuromachine Interface, Repulsor Fist, Surge Override Switch, etc.) free of charge.

>>In regards to the droid’s personality, do you wish to have Meofytos furnish you with a behavioral core with one positive and one negative trait? Or do you wish to purchase a new behavioral core and throw the dice?
>Buy a pre-owned behavioral core. (Select from a predefined list of positive and negative traits)
>Purchase a new behavioral core. (Take a chance, throw some dice and hope for the best.)

>>Please structure your votes as the following.
>Chassis/Appearance.
>Unique Feature.
>Behavioral Core.


[VOTE OPEN FOR EIGHT HOURS.]
>>
>>4848510
>S19 Series
>Armor Plating
>CHOPPER

S19 LET'S FUCKING GOOOOOOOOO!
>>
>>4848510
>Custom option. [Write-in]
>Pistoeka sabotage droid
Reconfigured for repair and maintenance of course.

>Armor Plating.

>browse Pre-owned cores
Dont want to choose until we know what our options are
>>
>>4848510
>R5 series.
>Armor Plating.
>Buy a pre-owned behavioral core

The chassis has some noticeable scratches, dents, and even a bit of carbon scoring, like it had been in a burning tumble dryer, and there’s a couple of holes drilled in it where it looks like something or things were mounted.
>>
>>4848510
>Chassis/Appearance. >R4 series.
>Unique Feature. >Modular Hardware. Install a cybernetic implant (i.e. Neuromachine Interface, Repulsor Fist, Surge Override Switch, etc.) free of charge.
>Behavioral Core. >Purchase a new behavioral core. (Take a chance, throw some dice and hope for the best.)

Tempted to have an R3 with a transparent dome head, but I also like the R4's cone design.
>>
>>4848510
S19 series
Armor Plating
New Behavioral Core
>>
>>4846973
>Roppock, Infantry Trooper. No longer quite a stiff rookie, displaying early signs of independent thinking.

Good base skills and moldable. If we want a clone on their team to help them survive without a military, he's gonna be the specialist for it.
(Perhaps our teacher perk will work with him)
>>
>>4848510
>R4 series.
>Hidden Compartment. Doesn’t fit anything much larger than a blaster or a lightsaber, but has an extremely high DC against checks made to detect the compartment.
>Buy a pre-owned behavioral core. (Select from a predefined list of positive and negative traits)
Tbh I have a soft spot for R7s, 8s, and 9s but those are a ways off. Also I want a virulently racist personality.
>>
>>4848510
Long time lurker here. I know my vote won't count but I'm throwing my hat in with the s19 astro. Best droid I've ever seen.
>>
>>4848510
+1>>4848539 if we can
>>
>>4848510
>S19 series
>Hidden compartement
>Roll for personality

I don't care that much about the first and last option, but pls people, we are gonna NEED that hidden compartement
>>
>>4848510
hey qm, I finally got paid so I can afford an art commision. Heres a temporary email, send me some money information so I can throw money at you.

[email protected]m
>>
>>4849314
failing that, if it seems sketchy, hold a vote and Ill commision the winner at wherever you send me.
>>
>>4848510


In confessing my absolute ignorance about these things, I'll vote for
>R3 series
purely because it looks better

>Hidden Compartment
There's bound to be something we'll want to smuggle somewhere privately. Though with B33 on site I don't think if we'll be walking around the streets with our astromech droid all the time the way Luke did.

>Buy a pre-owned behavioral core. (Select from a predefined list of positive and negative traits)

We can always ask what's available and buy a new one if we don't like what he has in stock, right Kaz?
>>
thread's almost dead
>>
>>4848550
I’ll switch my first option to an R4, since I like the more cone-headed guys, and because I’m concerned about the S19’s seeming lack of turnable head.

Revised vote:
>R4 series.
>Armor Plating.
>Buy a pre-owned behavioral core
>>
>>4848510
>>R5 series.
>>Hidden Compartment. Doesn’t fit anything much larger than a blaster or a lightsaber, but has an extremely high DC against checks made to detect the compartment.
>Buy a pre-owned behavioral core. (Select from a predefined list of positive and negative traits)
I know I originally suggested the S19, but I really like the idea of making a sort of sleeper car astromech, especially for a shadow. And what better foundation to build one on than the shit-ass R5?
>>
>>4849659
>And what better foundation to build one on than the shit-ass R5?

The 'found literally anywhere that isn't wretchedly poor' and better in every way R4?
>>
>>4848510
>R4
>Hidden Compartment
>Pre-Owned
>>
>>4850176
I'd rather gap people in a shitbucket Crown Vic than in a bland Corolla.
>>
>>4848510
>R3 series.
>Hidden Compartment. Doesn’t fit anything much larger than a blaster or a lightsaber, but has an extremely high DC against checks made to detect the compartment.
>Buy a pre-owned behavioral core.
>>
>>4848510
only thing I have a strong opinion on is that we should get a hidden compartment

We're a shadow in a galaxy that's increasingly hostile towards Jedi. More sneaky is always useful
>>
>>4850564
We've already customized our lightsabers to be easily concealable, Modular Hardware would be more useful in our new resident tech specialist/toolkit on wheels.
>>
>>4850673
What about our padawan's lightsaber?
>>
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>>4848525
>>4848539
>>4848550
>>4848702
>>4848735
>>4848872
>>4849100
>>4849102
>>4849274
>>4849419
>>4849651
>>4849659
>>4850193
>>4850517

Sorry about the delay in getting this one out. My best friend's dad lost a four month battle against metastatic cancer yesterday, and I've been keeping him and the family company. If any of you are religious, please pray for the soul of Joel [Smith].

At the time of the cutoff, the S19 variant won, alongside the choice of Armor Plating. If I included all the extra votes, I'd have to throw a coin between the S19 and the R4.

>>Chassis/Appearance: S-19
>>Unique Feature: Armor Plating

>>The following pre-owned behavioral cores are available for sale, each containing one positive and one negative trait.

>>Please select one(1) of the following options:
>Loyal, but Overly Literal. While putting your needs above its own and looks to help without direct prompting, it fails to grasp the nuances of language beyond direct meaning. [Alpha Core]
>Resourceful, but Cowardly. While capable of adapting quickly and not falling into overly narrow programming, it shies away from any potential danger at the first sight of trouble. [Beta Core]
>Efficient, but Abrasive. While abhorring waste and does everything with precision and good timing, dealing with it is extremely frustrating, answering with sarcasm or barbed words. [Gamma Core]
>Reliable, but Pessimistic. While this droid always pulls through for its creator and friends, it tends to exhibit a perpetually downcast and low-affect demeanor. [Delta Core]
>Cheerful, but Ruthless. While it believes that a good attitude is the first step to success, this droid chooses violence should the opportunity arise to inflict destruction and/or death. [Epsilon Core]
>Well-Mannered, but Impulsive. While maintaining good etiquette even with individuals it doesn't like, this droid has a boundless capacity to see opportunity, and acts on them without warning. [Zeta Core]
>Compassionate, but Lazy. This droid is very caring, and seeks to nurture the best in those around it, but tends to drag his heels if he can avoid getting out of work. [Eta Core]
>[Choose none of these cores and roll for a new one.] [Omega Core]

[VOTE OPEN FOR TWELVE HOURS]

>>4849314
Just sent a test email.
>>
>>4851265
>>Reliable, but Pessimistic. While this droid always pulls through for its creator and friends, it tends to exhibit a perpetually downcast and low-affect demeanor. [Delta Core]
Lets be real. When your an Astromech Droid working for a Jedi Shadow a Pessimistic Attitude is a positive in my books.
>>
>>4851265
well it turns out I fucked up that email. So here's another one?
But again, if you don't feel like trusting strangers on the internet just point me in a direction with a commission description. Either way works.

[email protected]
>>
>>4851265
>>Well-Mannered, but Impulsive. While maintaining good etiquette even with individuals it doesn't like, this droid has a boundless capacity to see opportunity, and acts on them without warning. [Zeta Core]
Seems neat.
>>
>>4851265
>Cheerful, but Ruthless. While it believes that a good attitude is the first step to success, this droid chooses violence should the opportunity arise to inflict destruction and/or death. [Epsilon Core]

CHOPPER
>>
>>4851265
>Efficient, but Abrasive. While abhorring waste and does everything with precision and good timing, dealing with it is extremely frustrating, answering with sarcasm or barbed words. [Gamma Core]
>>
>>4851265
Reliable, but pessimistic

Seems like a good fit with our crew.
>>
>>4851265
>Resourceful, but Cowardly. While capable of adapting quickly and not falling into overly narrow programming, it shies away from any potential danger at the first sight of trouble. [Beta Core]
>>
>>4851265
>Reliable, but Pessimistic. While this droid always pulls through for its creator and friends, it tends to exhibit a perpetually downcast and low-affect demeanor. [Delta Core]
>>
>>4851265
>Reliable, but Pessimistic. While this droid always pulls through for its creator and friends, it tends to exhibit a perpetually downcast and low-affect demeanor. [Delta Core]

"WE ARE ALL GONNA DIE!" screams the bot while fixing the ship.
>>
>>4851265
>>Reliable, but Pessimistic. While this droid always pulls through for its creator and friends, it tends to exhibit a perpetually downcast and low-affect demeanor. [Delta Core]
MAR-VIN
>>
>>4851265
>>Well-Mannered, but Impulsive. While maintaining good etiquette even with individuals it doesn't like, this droid has a boundless capacity to see opportunity, and acts on them without warning. [Zeta Core]
>>
>>4851265
>Reliable, but Pessimistic. While this droid always pulls through for its creator and friends, it tends to exhibit a perpetually downcast and low-affect demeanor. [Delta Core]
>>
>>4851265
>Reliable, but Pessimistic. While this droid always pulls through for its creator and friends, it tends to exhibit a perpetually downcast and low-affect demeanor. [Delta Core]

I'm a sucker for reference
>>
>>4851265
>>Cheerful, but Ruthless. While it believes that a good attitude is the first step to success, this droid chooses violence should the opportunity arise to inflict destruction and/or death. [Epsilon Core]
>>
>>4851265
>Cheerful, but Ruthless.
>>
>>4851481
Hah, I actually was thinking the same earlier when I voted for Reliable, but Pessimistic.
>>
>>4851265
>>Well-Mannered, but Impulsive. While maintaining good etiquette even with individuals it doesn't like, this droid has a boundless capacity to see opportunity, and acts on them without warning. [Zeta Core]
>>
>>4851265
>>Reliable, but Pessimistic. While this droid always pulls through for its creator and friends, it tends to exhibit a perpetually downcast and low-affect demeanor. [Delta Core]
>>
>>4851265
>>Efficient, but Abrasive. While abhorring waste and does everything with precision and good timing, dealing with it is extremely frustrating, answering with sarcasm or barbed words. [Gamma Core]

Gotta love a sarcastic robot. It and HK can have sarcasm-offs later.
>>
>>4851265
>>[Choose none of these cores and roll for a new one.] [Omega Core]
>>
>>4851265
>[Choose none of these cores and roll for a new one.] [Omega Core]
The dice will decide.



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