For 3000 Years, They Ignored Our Calls for Help | SSC Dominion of Jabiim

[Hira Mitsae]

Location: Klatooine, Si'Klaata Cluster
Objective: Wander ~
Allies: None
Post: [1/25]

A decade ago it was almost impossible to gain access to the Si'Klaata Cluster. The traffic to and from was heavily regulated by the Hutt Cartel - or at least a faction of the Cartel - but those times were long since over. Some mongrel criminal group had cast down the Hutts on Nar Shaddaa and Kessel and Nal Hutta, their control over Kessel not long for the world with the Sanctum showing up, but the point was made. There was little to no oversight these days. Little bands of criminals running amok, trying to stay under the radar of the big silver giant looking over them.

"Why does it always have to be sand?" The question was posed after the umpteenth time of rearranging the scarf hiding half his face away from the dusty winds. His companion - a Lethan Twi'lek by the name of Casra - just shrugged and continued to lead the way. They had met at the local Starport.

And... she didn't seem to talk much. Just a shrug here, the roll of the eyes there and sometimes, rarely, but sometimes? A very rude gesture of the fingers, when someone really ticked her off.

It was strange to be the speaking one.

Usually it was the other way around.

"How much resistance are we going to encounter, ya think?"

Another shrug. This time it made him grit his teeth just a little bit, but he actively suppressed the desire to choke her out for it. Whatever her speaking habits were, she paid premium for the services rendered. And that was all that mattered at the end of the day.

 

[Rasu Gan]

Location: Choal, Jabiim
Objective: Assist Rebels
Allies: SSC, Rebels, [member="Celiana"]
Enemies: Conservative supporters/loyalists
Post: 9/35

Alone amongst the enemy, Rasu found trouble nearing its peak. Multiple blasters were now aimed at the Shi'ido, a number that the Jedi knew was too high to defend against. Summoning the Force, Rasu sent her palms flying to the ground, releasing Force energy in a wave. The earth seemed to bulge as it accepted the flow of power before shaking violently sending the soldiers to their knees. Fatigue suddenly gripped her, however her diversion had given the time needed for the rebels to reach her location. The shriek of blaster bolts echoed throughout the area as the loyalists were swiftly gunned down as Rasu slowly got to her feet.

Celiana once more stood beside the Shi'ido, unleashing her saber upon the enemy until she found a reprieve. Rasu could sense the array of emotions bubbling within the Echani however she showed no concern until the Jedi glimpsed the violet bolts dancing across the Padawan's fingertips. In an instant, lightning erupted from the Echani, surrounding Master and Padawan in a deadly web of static energy. While troubled, Rasu could not react as sheer shock had gripped itself on her form. How the woman had learnt of such a technique astounded not to mention how she had learned to apply it to form such a shield. The Echani was dancing with dark forces that would one day consume her, however the battlefield was not the place to chastise her student.

Moving more cautiously as the lightning curtain continued to hum only a meter from the woman, Rasu followed Celiana alongside their rebel allies. What happened next came as a blur to the Shi'ido. All around her conservatives fell to the might of the rebel forces. The Echani did a much better job of leading the troops as Rasu watched, entranced as men fell before her superior combat skills. However her senses returned as the Padawan stopped her mere meters from the explosive site. Rasu had felt no such tremor in the Force to alert her to the danger, however she placed her trust once more in her student, as she unleashed another torrent of lightning into the ground. As the soldiers gazed in wonder and fear at the explosion that erupted before them, Rasu ignored the blaze, leaving her eyes to rest on the Padawan. Her eyes ebbed concern and worry, however she quickly hid these as the Echani came turned to meet her gaze, smiling cheekily.

"That was a good find." she replied, doing her best to sound pleased with the woman's result. Their would be much to discuss once the two returned to Voss.

Rasu turned to admire their progress. The conservative forces were slowly weakening under the combined might of the Coalition and Rebel forces. If the kept at this pace, it would not be long before they arrived at the political center of Choal, and could end this hostile takeover.

 

[Naamah Aesham]

(21)
[member="Alaki"]


Naamah was taken aback by the request. The Chiss' tone could only be described as pleading, but it still carried a strong note of hunger for dark power and knowledge. The girl was not in a good place right now, to put it lightly. Kid, I'm the last person to teach you anything.


"Alaki, calm down a bit. You just got Force drained, you need rest. Let's focus on getting out of here. I'll take you to my ship, then we can figure out what we're gonna do, ok?" Hopefully the Chiss would not take this poorly. Naamah winced in pain when her injuries made themselves known. Damn, her lung was fethed.


Wait, we're taking the girl who tried to stab us aboard? I Force drained her, she broke my nose, we're even. It's bad enough that we're in love with a woman who tortured us. At least this time the voice in her head was a reasonable one instead of a psychotic sadist. Well, you can always point her to Firemane. Just tell her not to mention a Force drain addicted shifter.


The speeder swiftly advanced through the government-controlled district. Starfighters roared through the sky, distant explosions reminded them of the fact that though the rebels had scored a small victory, the battle was far from over. As far as Naamah was concerned, their part in the fight was over. Someone else could save the planet and take credit.

 

[Bubák]

Jabiim Mission 3


Denied the chance at power, Alaki lowered her gaze and let it drift over the city premises. Disappointment and frustratration made another appearance inside her heart, the Chiss found no peace of mind to rest. Her thoughts drifted over to what she could do with the terrible technique currently locked within Enyala’s arsenal. Well, she could do many, many things. If she learned to wield the Dark Side like a Sith, she would never be looked down upon ever again. But all of that were just dreams, wishes. For now she remained Alaki, a pathetic Dark Jedi. If the Dark Side refused to share its secrets, perhaps her path truly lied with the Light. With a bit – a lot, actually – more effort, the chance at overcoming the nasty addiction would be significantly increased. Once no longer shackled by the urges to draw from the murky well of the Force, the Padawan would walk her original path once more.

One could always dream.

“Take me to the rebels – they need my help. Other Jedi might require my assistance as well.”

Uncertainty crept its way into the teen's voice, resulting in a small tremble pronounced in the last few words, but all things considered, Alaki sounded surprisingly serene.

Not a single part of her desired to return among the resistance, especially since she still lived and her entire team had died. It was unfair for the braver men with purpose burning in their hearts to perish. To walk among their comrades and feel the scornful gazes burn holes right into her soul, carving in unspoken questions – the prospect was inglorious, yet knowing the rank of Padawan carried certain duties, she should at least attempt to live in accordance with the Jedi Code and their values if she desired a chance at redemption.

[member="Naamah Aesham"]

 

[Naamah Aesham]

(22)
[member="Alaki"]


If Naamah had had the energy and known more about Alaki, she would have told her that her conception of Light and Dark was rather binary. That it took far greater strength to walk a road beyond that of Jedi and Sith. Of the two, the first were ineffectual, sanctimonious hypocrites, the other obsessive powermongers. Darth Vader had been powerful, but also a broken man who ended up as Palpatine's attack dog.


Naamah's response had not been an outright denial. She was simply not in a state to train anyone. Never mind the fact that she was currently struggling to maintain conscious after the beating she'd taken. Moreover, if Alaki only made the request because she'd wanted power, she was barking up the wrong tree.


The Clawdite glanced towards the Chiss. She doubted that Alaki really wanted to return to the rebels, but she was not inclined to be pushy. To put it plainly, she was exhausted and in a lot of pain. "Ok. Rebels it is then." They soon happened upon rebel forces, having reached what seemed to be their FOB in the city. Fortunately, Naamah was able to transmit what seemed to be a code to keep the resistance from accidentally shooting them.


"Here's my card, if you...need help, whatever. I'm leaving the planet. Word of advice, kid, don't get yourself killed chasing dream, don't sacrifice yourself for causes that aren't yours. Find someone who understands you and doesn't just force dogma down your throat. Good luck." Then she was gone.

 

[Orihime Ike]

Location: Jablim
Objective: Jabiim Mission 4 Free the Slaves, Save the Cheerleader
[member="Joza Perl"] [member="Valae Kitra"] #AlwaysRememberValae'sBrokenButt
17/38

As they were moving and working with the differen things there was a look from the jedi padawan as she prepared with all of the things they were doing. She was ready for a fight, she was ready to go after the creature if they had to attack it but then she sensed something and saw it from Joza. The talisman for beast taming that they were working on and her mother had helped Leina develop. The silver and red metal of it when she tossed it at the creature getting a look of interest before she had a small grin on her face nodding her head and going to the side. "Very cool indeed." A boy came up to see them while they were working on the plan to save and help people with a nod of her head. "We are amazing at improvising a plan of how to help people." She knew one of the best things that they could do would be impressive and let them practice walking and ready to duel or get them to save people. She was keeping the route they had taken in her head but also placing small beacons. "We can leave this pathway for them to get out and to the ship while we move deeper into the mines."

 

[Jessica Med-Beq]

Location: Jabiim
Objective: Locate the derelict prison ship (bring-your-own)
Allies: SSC
Enemies: Lythians
Post: 19/38

"I feel that there isn't much more we can learn here. We got all that we could from this place"

"Marcia, are you saying this because it would take too long to comb through the whole deal here?"

"The Lythians have commenced evacuation and this place will blow up along any second! Don't count on them not triggering Phase 2 of Directive 12!"

"We have all seen it on the holonews, they will use scorched earth strategies to make their retreat, if that's the same Directive 12 as used on Coruscant"

Despite not having confirmation that the Lythians were backed by the One Sith, a name that no longer evoked much of a threat since Operation Blackout, Charzon was on full alert. With all the computer connections she and her lackeys used, they have learned enough about what happened to the Tormentor and the lay of the place for basic purposes. For designing starships beyond the general layout of items, that would prove more complicated and more time-consuming, and more costly in manpower; they took the bridge turbolift to go back from whence they came, in a hurry, because the prison ship wreck may come under attack at any moment. Never Charzon would even think about experiencing the atrocities experienced by the Galactic Alliance on Coruscant for herself, so she had the Design Triumvitate run as far away as possible from the bridge of the Tormentor's wreck, knowing that the bridge tower would be a bomb magnet if Phases 2 and 3 of Directive 12 are triggered. They both pertain to destruction of assets on some level.

 

[Bubák]

Jabiim Mission 3


The Chiss started to tremble with fresh anxiety when the speeder hastily left the government-controlled parts of the city, hovering into the ‘safer’ areas occupied by the resistance. Bloodshed could be tasted through the Force, the final battle drew close and the fallen Jedi sincerely did not want to participate in the upcoming slaughter, too abused by the previous encounters to put up a good fight. After having a date with death, she needed to follow Enyala’s advice instead of selfishly trying to polish her piss-poor Jedi impression by showing up for the main event. Icy claws of cold gnawed at her exhausted body, no longer warmed by the engine’s power once the semi-solid ground splashed beneath her shoes.

“I… thank you.” The Padawan chirped and hesitantly took the card, then quickly gave the shapeshifting driver a deep, respectful bow, remaining motionless under the eruption of powerful roars that swiftly decreased in volume as the speeder’s silhouette became a tiny dot on the horizon. All uncertainty concerning the decision to stay with the rebels had departed alongside her ally.

A worried glance to the far left stalked the brave fighters on both sides charging the front lines, easily equivalent to lives voluntarily jumping into a massive meat grinder that did not stop with the increased quantity of bodies to crush. There was absolutely no doubt the rebels could use two more lightsabers on their side, if only to prevent a few unnecessary casualties. A slow, well-practiced move unhooked one lightsaber from her leather belt. Fingers nervously clutching the cylinder soon found solace in its familiar shape.

One hesitant step forward, just like the thrill of the battle commanded, three steps back over to a partially collapsed wall. A single clank as her lightsaber hit the ground, followed by a hopeless thud belonging to the Chiss’ frame. Not the best place to relax, but the vastly more comfortable alternative she had foolishly denied was already out of reach.

Her hand had sub-consciously scrunched something. Upon opening the palm, the Chiss’ eyes fell upon the mean to get into contact with the shapeshifter. Just holding the small card tempted Alaki with promises of power; the Dark Side running through the young woman’s very being swelled. Images of dozens casually sacrificed as sentient medi-kits flashed through her mind. Her fast breathing filled with orgasmic desire for knowledge bordered on hyperventilation. Giving in was too easy.

Frowning, the Padawan broke the card in half and angrily tossed both parts to the mud, earning herself the sweet, rewarding tingle of victory in her gut, although the annoying guilt immediately started to nag and question the decision.

A rash, perhaps foolish decision – yet also another step towards curing the devastated mind and soul that made the Dark Jedi whole.

 

[Naamah Aesham]

(23)


Thus the two parted ways. Perhaps one day they would meet again. Ideally, both would be in a better place then, instead of being consumed by the dark pit both were trying to climb out of. Naaamah had no intention of teaching Alaki the 'awesome' power of the Dark Side. She simply did not feel the need to follow Jedi or Sith. She was working on her own redemption. Or at least trying to. Redemption was a road, not a destination. There was no magical state of grace that could be achieved if you saved X amount of people more than you murdered.


If she'd given Naamah a call one day, she'd have probably received backup in a fight. Or simply a place to crash if she needed shelter or medical care. However, the Clawdite was oblivious to what was going on. Across the city, the battle continued. The rebels gathered their forces for the final offensive and threw them into the meat grinder. She was tired, dirty and in a lot of pain. The Clawdite spared the Chiss a glance when she joined the rebel fighters, then she was gone. For just a moment she wondered how the young, spirited girl would do.


Would she make it? And find a way to heal? Past Naamah would not have cared. She would have enjoyed the girl's plight and considered her something fun to break, shatter and corrupt. But she was...different now. Not pure as white snow, but a better person, even though she could not see this. It was doubtful that Naamah would be able to forgive herself though.


Thus she vanished into the camp. The rebels were kind enough to give her some basic medical care and let her rest a bit, then she was on her way. Eventually, she would reach her tramp freighter. The sort of utilitarian craft that was common on the rim, particularly for folks who were down on the luck. She collapsed in the bedroom after finally boarding the ship. The last thing she saw before darkness claimed her was a holopic of Mirien Valdier.

 

[Celiana]

Location: Choal, Jabiim
Objective: Assist Rebels
Allies: SSC, Rebels, [member="Rasu Gan"]
Enemies: Conservative supporters/loyalists
Post: 9/35


I saw the look on Master Gan's face as the indigo lightning had danced across my left arm. Then as it formed into a shield I saw wonder in her eyes and not of a good kind. I'd been practicing what Lady Kerrigan had taught me and most Masters didn't care to see padawans using skills like Force Lightning. Master DragonsFlame hadn't been thrilled when we'd dueled and he'd seen me use the Jar'Kai style in the Juyo form and he'd given me the same look. I didn't want to disappoint my Masters but I'd use whatever I had at my disposal to keep the ones I care about safe.

I had the feeling of Master Gan's eyes on me as I'd unleashed the short stream of Lightning into the ground triggering the explosives. It was a look of shock and slight wariness mixed with concern. I knew the look from Master DragonsFlame and having triggered the explosives and sensing Master Gan's wariness I called the Lightning that had been shielding her and myself back to my left hand and dispelled it up into the sky. She gave me a cheeky grin saying "Good catch." But I could tell from the very quick look of wariness and concern that she was worried and had tried to hide it with the cheeky grin.

Turning to face Master Gan with a look of shame I said, "Sorry for the shocking revelation Master, no pun intended. I know the look, I got the same one when I dueled Master Dragonsflame in the academy I was using Jar'Kai style with the Juyo forms. He basically told me if I continued dueling that way I was bound for the Dark-side. Nevertheless, I'm sorry for springing that revelation on you. All I ask is that if you want to discuss this with me when we return to Voss that.....you won't judge me by my choices but by my actions."

Even being covered in the dirt, grime, and blood that had caked itself to my body during this assault I couldn't help but to let tears fall down my grimy cheeks. This, all of it was a result of stubbornness on both sides. So many dead...some by my own hand and others like Master Gan slightly fearful of me. I wondered where Aria was now wherever it was I hoped she was safe. I knew Aria had tried to push me away but I wondered if I'd be the one to push her away. I'd already gone through two masters and I needed Master Gan if I ever hoped to be a Jedi Knight. I just hoped she wouldn't be too put off at the skills I had shown already today...

 

[Darth Caecus]

Handooine
Open Objective/Handooine Diplomacy/Oh Frak They are Shooting At Us
Junko Ike Audren Sykes
8

Sabetha drew her (sadly underpowered) training saber, but didn't turn it on. Her hands were shaking. What was she doing? This went against everything the girl had ever believed in. I.e. that when trouble came knocking, you run. You run fast and you run hard and you run some more until you find a place to hide.
​
Any yet, here she was, opening a perfectly good door in order to walk into trouble.

She nodded at Junko's instructions, ducking in to the large first floor room behind her Master. They weren't expected and all eyes had been on the stairs leading up- the crew in this room at least hadn't been expecting Jedi from outside. She crouched behind a bar that wrapped around the room, peeking out to watch Junko. She had no idea what the other woman was going to do.

The noise from upstairs was clear- something was happening up there. Slowly, Sabetha started sidling along behind the bar, trying to reach the stairs up.

That was about when the shooting *downstairs* started.

 

[Jessica Med-Beq]

Location: Jabiim
Objective: Locate the derelict prison ship (bring-your-own)
Allies: SSC
Enemies: Lythians
Post: 20/38

The dark prospect of Phase 2 of Directive 12 being triggered forced the three of Charzon, Marcia and Jessica to run as far away from the Tormentor's wreck as they possibly could. Once they made it to the bottom of the shaft, they were back into the main engine room, but this time around it was out of question to run back to the bow of the ship: given what they learned about what happened to the ship, going through the shaft where the main ion drive was, well, a shortcut compared to what their old trajectory through the ship used to be: rather tortuous and passing through derelict turbolaser hardpoints. Now all they have to do is to walk through a huge tunnel hundreds of meters high because the engines have been gutted over generations upon generations of Lythians (or possibly the old One Sith) and once they were out of the ship, their nightmares were far from over. Jessica had the schematics in tow, Marcia had one too, but now that their work is done, they go back to the forest and retreive their old trail from whence they came.

"Now I feel I just finished the most dangerous slice-a-thon in my life!" Marcia said.

"Slice-a-thon? What do you mean, slice-a-thon?"

"It's an event where you collaboratively work towards slicing a common target, or create a usable piece of software"

"I always pictured a slice-a-thon as an event where you competed one another for slicing the best by some standard, usually a test of endurance"

 

[Hira Mitsae]

Location: Klatooine, Si'Klaata Cluster
Objective: Wander ~
Allies: None
Post: [2/25]

After a moment the twi'lek sighed and got a datapad out.

Absalom was never much for curiosity, unless it pertained to the job at hand- which it didn't seem to be, so his attention slipped away. Instead his eyes started to wander around the scene while they walked.

It was a rowdy mess, Klatooine was.

The streets were sandy. Every time a gale of wind picked up, the sand rose up and the dust clouds would start choking your throat. It would get in your eyes, cutting off your eyesight completely. And everywhere - Absalom meant that quite literally - everywhere were people. People of all sizes and species; twi’leks in every hue, humans like him, kiffar, a rare ithorian or two, even a Hutt sliding down the streets with an honor guard.

Seems like they haven’t all lost their grasp.

Suddenly a datapad - the datapad - was shoved against his chest. Brows furrowed in thought at that, before looking up at the lethan.

She had resumed her walk. Absalom’s look only slipped a fraction down the slope, before chastising himself and diverting back towards the datapad.

Six at the front, twelve inside the compound.
Air support likely.
Additional reward, if we get the leader alive.

It seemed like the girl might be an actual mute, if she couldn’t even bother to just say all of that. But the Jensaarai didn’t speak his mind on that subject, he didn’t know her, didn’t know what she had been through and it wasn’t his business to begin with. Just an affirmative grunt that he got the situation, before slipping the datapad away into his pocket.

This was going to get interesting then.

 

[Naamah Aesham]

(24)


So we were heroic and helped the blind, saved a confused girl who can't make up her mind and we accomplished nothing of value. What a waste of time. From a certain point of view, the inner voice had a point.


Oh, it wasn't a waste of time. I got to piss you off. Bonus. That was a remarkably puerile response, but what the hell. Your lung is a mess and last I checked, you don't have health insurance. You should've just sucked the girl's energy out. Or taken her on as a minion if you could keep her changing her mind all the time.


The freighter lifted off from the ruined city and shot into the darkened sky. Is this a lead-in to the boring litany about how helping people is bad and how I'm setting myself up for an early grave because I refuse to embrace power blahblah? It's a broken record. Like the Jedi Code.


You did nothing wrong by draining those guys. They attacked you, you ate them. The inner voice was especially annoying when it had a point. She'd agree, Naamah's eyes darted towards Mirien's holopic. Of course, she'd kill you because dear Siobhan hates you. The ship shot through the atmosphere into space and eventually made the jump into the blue realm of hyperspace.

 

[Bubák]

Jabiim Mission 3


Too weak-willed to successfully order herself to get up and support the rebels, if not on the front lines then in any other way, the Padawan continued to play the unconcerned role, finally realizing how much weakness and hurt plagued her body. If not for the short nap inside the ammunition crate, she would definitely succumb to sleep now. It was horrifying – the lack of energy and care after the cannons existed no more. Sense of accomplishment comforted her that she had done enough by helping to destroy the artillery, but logic claimed otherwise. Another push past her limits was required. Finding enough strength left in her bones turned out to be a greater challenge than originally anticipated, the Chiss grew painfully aware of every single ache spread all over her.

A grunt of exertion and she stood up, unsure how to proceed further. First, the weapon – a basic technique summoned the abandoned hilt from the ground, placing it safely into her fingers. Both legs slowly stumbled towards the battlefield across the broken road. With no shoulder to lean against, she had to remind herself of the fact other sentients warring across the city were just as vulnerable and tired as her. The slight boost in strength originating from within that realization offered a small help, no much; Alaki lacked passionate fire burning in her heart. This wasn’t her homeworld, those were not her people. Duty – only the duty she supposedly held towards them commanded the blue silhouette to advance.

Tanks and other machinery did not add to the dry chalice of confidence, rolling over the lying bags of meat that used to be people. Thunderous racket came from all sides, explosions, fire, death. Bombs rained down from the sky, alongside heavy rain and downed fighters. No sane person would ever voluntarily march into that. This night would last forever, wash away the planet’s past in rivers of blood and bring. Alaki gulped and swallowed silent curses. She could not go back anymore, invited into the deepest slaughter by shouts and blaster bolts.

 

[Joza Perl]

Location: Jabiim’s gross surface
Objective: Jabiim Mission 4—Free da slaves
Allies: [member="Orihime Ike"]
Post 7/25

“Ooh…okay.” Aarow gazed at Orihime with a look of awe, nodding slowly. “We’re getting close to where the others are. We should be really careful so that they don’t see us.” He explained, flattening himself against the wall of the cave.

“Thank you, Aarow. You’ve been a big help, but now it’s time for you to leave.” Joza explained calmly, tipping her head to the boy in thanks.

“H-huh? I don’t want to leave! I can help you guys take out the bad guys!” Aarow protested, a look of hardened determination in his eyes. Joza’s gaze hardened as well, but it drifted to slave collar around his neck and she shifted her weight from one foot to the other. She knew that look, and she’d worn that collar.

“...Alright. Be careful, and run if we tell you to. Understood?” Sighing in admission, Joza took a page from the kid’s book and pressed herself against the wall as they edged towards where the slaves were.

“Thanks, pink lady!” With a goofy smile, Aarow led the group towards a more open area of the underground mining facility. In the center of the clear were several carts filled with unearthed gems and minerals, and off to the sides there were networks of smaller tunnels. A group of slaves was at the carts, cleaning and preparing their findings. There were handfuls of workers about, dirty, tired and shackled at their necks as well.

“YOU!”

A shout rang out from closer than they’d expected, and a burly looking man stomped towards the newcomers. He had the type of face that seemed to be permanently scowling, though now he looked positively disgusted.

“Boy! What have you done?” He reached for the whip at his side, but thought better of it. Instead, he retrieved a small remote of some kind and pressed a button. The collar around Aarow’s neck delivered a hefty shock to the boy, causing him to collapse to the ground in a fit of agonized screams.

Joza’s jaw dropped for a brief moment, but it clenched just as quickly. Extending a hand forward, she sent a Force Push towards the overseer. The man went from looking vaguely satisfied to shocked as he found himself being hurled against a wall roughly. “Oof!” His body smacked against the side of the cave and he fell unceremoniously to the floor, though still conscious.

“OI! I need backup!” He called, voice bouncing off of the cave walls and echoing down into the deeper chambers. “A gang of Jedi karks are here! Start killing everyone off!” As he spoke, he drew a blaster pistol from her person and started firing at the panicking slaves.

Growling, Joza lunged forward and grasped at his wrist with her mechanical arm, squeezing until the cybernetics had snapped his wrist. The man cried out, dropping his pistol—but his free and uninjured hand had balled into a fist and flew towards the Zeltron’s face.

The fist collided with her face, and Joza stumbled back, free hand going towards her nose which was now clearly broken. “You…” Her voice was low, but she raised her right hand, now armed with the blaster the man had forcibly dropped.

Zap.

Blaster bolt to the head, and the pirate slumped over in death. One down…

Heeding the call of their friend, a half a dozen new pirates appeared from the caves, armed and ready to liquidate.

…few more to go.

 

[Jessica Med-Beq]

Location: Jabiim
Objective: Locate the derelict prison ship (bring-your-own)
Allies: SSC
Enemies: Lythians
Post: 21/38

Charzon now being far away from the main hulk, she needed not care about Directive 12 even though the impression Battleon Town News left her of these very words made her evoke scorched-earth strategy the way the One Sith does it. She doesn't understand why the Galactic Alliance didn't launch the bounty on one Sith Lord whose name began by C, purported to be the highest-ranking survivor of the One Sith ground forces deployed on Coruscant. Yet that particular Sith Lord would never have gained fame as a criminal without Directive 12. There would be many, many bounty hunters out for that Sith Lord by now... and probably Ugohr would have delivered him to Alliance authorities, too. But the Design Triumvirate ran through the rainforests back to the relative safety of their ship. Marcia and Jessica are safely uploading their copies of the schematics to see how perfectly they match one another. Now that they are herded back into the ship, they remove their raincoats, because they assumed that the hull would be impervious to rain for a few hours.

"Upload complete!" Marcia exclaimed.

"Good, now we need to make sure the records are secure: we need to deliver the flight logs, as well as the diaries of the Lythians, to the SSTSB"

"Roger, records secured. They are in a separate crate"

"SSTSB - their nearest office is back on Ringo Vinda: they tend to be on shipyard planets. I guess, I'll file the report to be delivered alongside the flight logs and the Lythian logs"

 

[Naamah Aesham]

(25)

Location: Handooine


Stormy clouds hung over the spaceport of Handooine's capital when a Government shuttle gracefully descended from the sky like a majestic eagle. Naturally it landed in a hangar reserved for Government officials and the elite.


The dark clouds were symptomatic of the problematic state of affairs. The weather forecast predicted a thunderstorm. Elara Dantius was not the superstitious type, but the well-groomed, elegantly dressed Twi'lek could not escape the impression that these were bad tidings. An omen of things to come. She swallowed this absurd thought when she made her way down the landing ramp and was escorted out of the port towards a waiting speeder.


Unlike the stereotypical Twi'lek popularised by a racialist media, she did not wear stripperific clothing that belonged in a strip club or an adult movie. No, she was dressed in a professional business suit and her lekku was well-tended. She was Chief of Staff of the President's office. This was a very delicate job that gave her a lot of power, but also meant she was the one who had to clean up mess and make sure that nothing that could damage the administration made waves.


Child slavery this, pirates that, I never hear the end of it. Damn Alcibiades and his idiotic schemes, she thought to herself when she stepped out of the gates. It was raining outside, but thankfully she had an umbrella and the speeder was close.


Truth be told, this whole scheme to use child slaves as cheap labour had been silly. Politics was a dirty business and Elaara had signed off on many orders that unenlightened people would consider immoral, but firstly the slaves had not been productive labourers except when given the simplest tasks and secondly rumours had inevitably spread, which caused a ruckus.


Sentient rights organisations were whining, bomb throwing anarchists were blowing up lawful citizens and she was quite certain that the Lythian pirates were cheating the government. Fortunately, all this could be dealt with.


"I'll be at the palace soon, sir," she spoke into her comm. "Our security forces are dismantling the 'illegal factories' as we speak. Obviously we had no idea that a consortium of industrialists was working with the cartels and exploiting slaves and sweated labourers. Our story will hit the press before the day's over. I'm afraid you'll have to sacrifice Alcibiades, but his star's been falling for months."


More words were exchanged, she switched the comm off and climbed into her speeder. "To the presidential palace," she commanded haughtily, without bothering to acknowledge the driver. He was a cog in a well-ordered machine. The craft's engines hummed to life and it pulled into the air, overflying the city. Elara had some jet lag from her trip and was dozing in her backseat, but it did not escape her attention that soon the speeder was going...into an entirely different direction.


"Hey, that's the wrong way. Are you braindead, you fool?" she snarled angrily, feeling quite irritated. Her bodyguard, who was more alert, produced a blaster, but then suddenly gasped for breath, as if feeling he was choked before his neck was snapped by an invisible force. Panicking, Elara tried to grab her comm, but it was pulled out of her grasp when the driver turned around. She stared into the eyes of the chauffeur...and they flashed yellow. Then a stun bolt exited the driver's blaster and she was knocked unconscious.


Satisfied, Naamah Aesham turned around. Doubtless the government mooks would try to track her once they realised Elara was late her for appointment, but that did not matter. She had some very unpleasant things planned for her. The daemon inside her laughed.

 

[Théodred Heavenshield]

Location: Jabiim
Objective: Navigate the Historic Muddy Plains

(1)

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It never stops raining here, couple that with the unstable atmosphere, the constant electricity fizzing across the sky, it was a wonder how the Antarian Ranger pilot had got the ship to ground, safely. What little plant life existed on Jabiim would be found in pockets not larger then a field and thick, hot, making the journey to the plains all but impossible. The unit of men that had accompanied Théo forged ahead of him, the Rangers made this lurk look easy with their ability to use and blend in with the environment, they relished it in fact but not him. His legs ached from the constant pull of his feet out of the mud that wanted for nothing more then to suck him down and embrace him in the wet hold.

Eventually, the broke through the thick marsh and before them all was the vast expanse of the Muddy Plains of Jabiim. As far as the eye could see, nothing but flat, wet and dangerous mud. He cast his eyes to the sky looking for the sun, it was approaching midday and they would have to get a move on if they are to reach the location. Intelligence had suggested that one of the old mine long abandoned had started production again, but the ore once extracted from the ground was depleted, so if this was the case, what is happening way out here. Why is it always mines .. he thought to himself, as experience would have it he had ventured into several now.

The odd thing was, that the intel report said nothing of shipments of ore or anything else for that matter, no sign of life or movement of ships .. so what was happening out here? Well, only one way to find out.

 

[Bubák]

Jabiim Mission 3


Without the Dark Side to offer its vengeful boost, Alaki’s sole focus poured into blocking blaster bolts fired her way, and even that supposedly simple task posed enough trouble for the teenager. Precognition could only do so much when the body did not have enough energy to properly react to its warnings. Slow and sloppy, the fallen Padawan’s movements resembled someone practicing the fifth form of lightsaber combat for the first time, much to the Jedi’s shame.

It became painfully obvious she had overestimated her abilities, charging into battle exhausted for the sake of recognition – a foolish act achieving nothing else than indirectly asking enemy soldiers to take a shot at the blue-skinned fool swinging laser swords. Never quite allowed to go on the offensive, the Jedi’s moves remained purely devoted to personal protection, a shield of two colourful blurs to bat away incoming projectiles. A stray shot approached her from a weird angle and the baby blue beacon of light extinguished, hilt knocked from the Chiss’ hand, forcing her to retreat.

Backing out, only Lord Vader’s orange blade to provide her with cover, the Padawan clumsily moved across the battlefield. Once her eyes spotted an armoured tank headed her way, the military’s insignia painted on its sides, the Chiss frantically looked around in search of something, anything to allow her to escape the nearing behemoth that had decided to crush her underneath instead of proving the Jedi could, indeed, deflect blaster fire. The dug up ground mottled with craters was kind enough to provide just that, and so the blue-skinned Jedi hopped into the nearest hole, rain water splashing in all directions. Tremors resonated all around her when the vehicle rolled over the hole – exposing its belly to the teenage Padawan who still had one lightsaber left.