Galactic Alliance : The Dawn of Vur Tepe | Social Thread

[Kahne Porte]

Kahne took a deep breath as he glanced around to those passing and in turn another individual had caught his attention, and while thought to remain sitting. He needed some interaction, that was one of the first keys to unlocking that particular puzzle box.

"Bold is one thing, however it was something else entirely." While a Sith charging in the middle of area of Jedi and extraordinary trained soldiers. There was always an ulterior motive behind every Sith's actions. The Jedi spoke after he stood up and walked closer to the duo of [member="Jacen Voidstalker"] and [member="Sarge Potteiger"] ."Good to meet you, my name is Kahne." The Jedi in turn said to both and shook their hands firmly.

 

[Jacen Voidstalker]

[member="Kahne Porte"] [member="Sarge Potteiger"]

"Voidstalker, Knight with the New Jedi Order," Jacen said, to introduce himself. "And we'll get to his reasons another time, though I imagine they're wrapped in several layers of deceit.

"I don't think I've heard the name, what brings you to Sullust Kahne?"

 

[Sarge Potteiger]

[member="Jacen Voidstalker"] [member="Kahne Porte"]

The armored man gave a simple nod, "I've had some practice, through the years." He says calmly, with regards to Jacen's mention of the punch. Bowing his head faintly to Kahne, he smiled faintly. "Name's Sarge, Kahne." There came another nod at that, "Not sure how long you've been listening."

"I've hunted the Sith for years. Launched fleets to Alderaan, gave the order to drop a ship on their palace on Coruscant. If I know one thing, it's that they always feel like they're in control. You'll never beat them, because they'll always think they're two steps ahead of you. The trick isn't in making them accept defeat, it's simply in not allowing them to win. So, no he wasn't bold. Rather, he was simply what he was - A Sith thinking too far ahead for his own good."

 

[Kahne Porte]

"A pleasure, Jacen, and Sarge as well." The Jedi Master nodded his head to them both once again. "Well, I've been gone a long time, I've returned to help the Alliance however I can."

Kahne listened to what Sarge had said and he couldn't have said it any better himself.

"Well said my friend." Kahne spoke as he took a glance down the way the sith was taken. The sith were full of deceit it was hard to tell anymore, with him being out of the game as long as he was. He could do with taking some pointer from Sarge and the like. His nature would return to him, in time.

[member="Sarge Potteiger"] [member="Jacen Voidstalker"]

 

[Tiland Kortun]

[member="Adele Adonai"]

Tiland leaned against his staff, watching the proceedings. There was youthful energy and hope here, to be sure. But in time, they too would wither and die. It happened to all, especially the humans. They came and died in bursts of light and shadow, prolonging themselves through the Force, either in a way to foster growth and healing, or in the corrupting, destructive tendencies of the Sith. Yet he would outlive them all, watching their hair turn gray and their bodies decay before becoming one with the Force. Then he would travel on, forever wandering until his time came along too. He let out a deep sigh. But that was his lot, to be forever alone, an outcast from his people.

Master Varek knew this too, Tiland guessed. He could see the fear in other's eyes at first, but the harmony between him and birds was plainly evident. He had heard much of his understanding of plants and ecology. Now seemed to be an excellent time to meet him. Few things were as heartbreaking as being supposed a monster and striving not to be. That was something Tiland understood quite well.

He strode over to the Master, leaning on the quarterstaff to steady his limp and adjusting his bag of herbs and medicines. He paused before the imposing figure and gave a slight bow.

"Greetings, Master Varek," He began, speaking just loudly enough to be heard. Loud noises were unnatural to him, and often uncomfortable. The hunger gnawed at him, craving the soup. Tiland pushed it away, sinking deep into the Force where the yearning drifted away. "I am Tiland Kortun, a recent arrival on Sullust. I hear you have a great understanding of ecology and plant use. Would there perhaps be a time in which you would be willing to discuss your learning?"

 

[Syren]

*Syren slowly removed her helmet as she entered the vast underground chamber at the base of the academy boulevard. The ride down to the innards of the planet had been both beautiful and noxious. She was going to have to exchange the scrubbers in her exosuit, it felt like she was fermenting when she moved from her ship and then towards the bowels of the planet. R9-Y4 rolled along beside her, restraining bolt attached to keep him from waxing eloquent in his particular fashion. He beeped at her, incredulous but sans profanity.*

"Yes, you are going to keep the restraining bolt. No, I do not have one whit of pity for you when it comes to your inability to express yourself properly. Your programming allows you to understand over 600 languages and you know how to be profane in every one of them rather than utilize them appropriately. What is more astonishing, you translate each into binary code, and I understand you since you do it so often..."

*The droid started to beep something at her, then violently shook as the restraining bolt inserted its will upon the droid's programming.*

"There are days when I wonder at your usefulness, and whether obtaining a new astromech is the more optimal choice."

*R9-Y4 knew this was an empty threat. Unlike most of her people, Syren was fond of droids, aliens, adventure, and most of all, things that reminded her of people she had once known. The droid was such an item. While people did not always last, some of their great works did. Well, great might be a stretch for things such as R9-Y4.

It sent a question her way akin to why are we on Sullust.

Syren shrugged her dark clad shoulders, the exosuit thick around her neck where a mister and air supply attached from a place on her back. The ride down had been a short one, but still the suit was a necessary evil.* "The Jedi usually have a vast library at their disposal and I prefer their company to the Sith, primarily because I do not want to eradicate the Jedi from the galaxy like I would prefer to do to the Sith." *Syren answered. The droid blurbbled again, something such as that's a dark sentiment for you.

Syren's eyes hardened.* "Well when half a billion people disappear, who are you going to blame until you get some evidence to the contrary?"

*The droid beeped again and words scrolled across a datapad in Syren's left hand:* :erhaps not egomaniacle sadists with a penchant for mass homicide and a propensity for galactic prominence:: *Syren was noting that the tone of the astromech was becoming less peppered with profanity with the nuance of the restraining bolt. The extravagant vocabulary was going to take some getting used to.* "If I didn't know any better, I would think you were afraid of the Sith. With your charm, I cannot imagine why that could be..."

*They had come to a bridge flanked on either side by a pair of guards. Syren waved at them and asked the man on the right, he looked like a Mirialan:* "Are the archives open to travelers today? I was hoping to do some research and the Jedi were always known for stringent record keeping." *Syren smiled, but it was off putting to the Mirialan, so he awkwardly grimaced but nodded. She noticed that he was quite young, possibly an adept or older apprentice. She composed her face more seriously, and less toothily. Being on Gaeren III for so long had made smiling a habit again. Now that she was back in the galaxy at large, she would have to stop doing that, or risk not having friends. She bowed her head in apology, then walked along the bridge towards the building.

R9-Y4 snickered electronically. Syren sighed and shook her head at the droid.* "Come on you useless bucket of bolts. We have reading to do."

 

[Julius Sedaire]

Shuffling about, Ijaat reached out, cuffing one of his workers about the head with a quick snap of his wrist, almost like a bear paw'd father smacking a cub. The lad grinned, and Ijaat made a universal gesture that equated to 'Careful or I'll make a woman out of you' and continued on his route. He was in work clothes this time, simple brown tusken-cotton trousers tucked into plain cowboy like boots with bronzium toe cap to them, and a sleeveless white tunic, a jaunty hat perched above on his head, and a finely tooled leather apron spreading across his chest and torso, emblazoned with mythosaur skull crowning a hammer and dual hammers, a symbol of the old Beskarmiths Guild his father had tried to found.

Bending, the smith slipped a hjarna stone hammer from his belt and worked a durasteel spike loose, fixing the hammer in his right hand and the spike in his left, driving it deep into the cavern wall with a single strike. He shook the anchored object to test it's depth and nodded in satisfaction, looking to the worker behind him and speaking only one word.

"Green"

The shaky man nodded, and grabbed a spray can from the satchel at his hip and hit the mushroomed head of the spike with a blast of flourescent green paint. Ijaat was about the business of organization, and right now he was staking off where and what the Forge and Workshop for the Alliance should look like here. The cavern he was in was positively massive, and workers from Beskar'yaim were already implementing the control system from his forge to power the various crafting devices that required heat to do their work off of heat drawn from magma vents, and indeed the whole place would be geo-thermally powered when he was done. It would exist completely separate from the main power grid, thus able to keep going until the bitter end. Not that he thought anyone would retreat to here in such a case.

Moving one, Ijaat loosened another spike. Green was for raw materials processing and testing.... Next would be a red one for the active forges... So much to plan...