Kholek
An Ancient Rage Reborn
The machinations of the wealthy are something that the galaxy and every individual have been a part of. Those who control the cash flow control not only the macro scale of the galaxy, but they can reach out and pluck individuals out of the galaxy to play with in their twisted games. This is a tale of a duo of adventurers who have become pieces in a great game for the wealthy behind the scenes. A game involving fans of history, fans of drama, fans of suspense, of murder, and of betrayal. They all participate and while all aspects may not be covered, the events that transpire are controlled more by those who wield the almighty credit rather than any superstitious entity like the force.
...upon the table rested metals of all variety that had come together in a symphony of design and perfection. Metals that were gathered from across the galaxy to create as close of a replica as money could buy. No DNA had been saved from the past, no body officially recovered for them to have tested. Even if there had been, the great plague had wiped out any such knowledge that even the deepest of pockets could procure. Instead they went with what was possible to obtain by their wealth; that was the technology necessary, the engineers and scientists necessary, and the pieces necessary to make it all happen. Cash had switched between enough hands to make an accountants head spin and to make the whole transaction nigh impossible to track by any entity that wasn't specifically looking for it.
Life
Metal
Money
Flesh
Comaradarie
Suspense
Terror
Greed
Death
These elements lead up to the creation of what was before them. The inbred hate that flowed through the creature, the added memories inserted to bend the creature to what they desired, and the mechanical augmentations to create the creature they truly desired to call their own. That creature lay before the droid mounted camera that the board of investors were a part of. Their fingers tented or interlocked to hide the strings running from them into the governments of the galaxy. Whatever government pretended to play King had nothing without the backing of men such as these. A planned bank crash or a devaluation of currency in some other manner could decimate even the mightiest Republic armada, and soldiers of the Sith may fear their masters but without money to buy food they became just mountains of corpses.
On the table lay the historically accurate reconstruction of one of the most feared cybernetic warriors to ever step out of the darkness and into the light of the galaxy. It could make a history buff faint, an engineer weep at the beauty, and a Jedi to wet himself. It was a near perfect reconstruction down to the species used to grab it. All they were missing was the actual thing, a descendent of Sheelal, and a warrior who had waged war against the Jedi. Those were not options that their currency had been able to afford. Instead they had used it to steer a Pirate to their target, to bribe the tribe for their favored son, and to set up the vault that the Kaleesh would be tested and find his fate. Should the boy have failed to pass, the machinations would have started again. As it happened, the Pirate played her role to perfection and the boy would have won an Oscar, posthumously, for his performance.
The creation was done, all that was left to move their last pawn to allow their Rook to roam free across the board...
...upon the table rested metals of all variety that had come together in a symphony of design and perfection. Metals that were gathered from across the galaxy to create as close of a replica as money could buy. No DNA had been saved from the past, no body officially recovered for them to have tested. Even if there had been, the great plague had wiped out any such knowledge that even the deepest of pockets could procure. Instead they went with what was possible to obtain by their wealth; that was the technology necessary, the engineers and scientists necessary, and the pieces necessary to make it all happen. Cash had switched between enough hands to make an accountants head spin and to make the whole transaction nigh impossible to track by any entity that wasn't specifically looking for it.
Life
Metal
Money
Flesh
Comaradarie
Suspense
Terror
Greed
Death
These elements lead up to the creation of what was before them. The inbred hate that flowed through the creature, the added memories inserted to bend the creature to what they desired, and the mechanical augmentations to create the creature they truly desired to call their own. That creature lay before the droid mounted camera that the board of investors were a part of. Their fingers tented or interlocked to hide the strings running from them into the governments of the galaxy. Whatever government pretended to play King had nothing without the backing of men such as these. A planned bank crash or a devaluation of currency in some other manner could decimate even the mightiest Republic armada, and soldiers of the Sith may fear their masters but without money to buy food they became just mountains of corpses.
On the table lay the historically accurate reconstruction of one of the most feared cybernetic warriors to ever step out of the darkness and into the light of the galaxy. It could make a history buff faint, an engineer weep at the beauty, and a Jedi to wet himself. It was a near perfect reconstruction down to the species used to grab it. All they were missing was the actual thing, a descendent of Sheelal, and a warrior who had waged war against the Jedi. Those were not options that their currency had been able to afford. Instead they had used it to steer a Pirate to their target, to bribe the tribe for their favored son, and to set up the vault that the Kaleesh would be tested and find his fate. Should the boy have failed to pass, the machinations would have started again. As it happened, the Pirate played her role to perfection and the boy would have won an Oscar, posthumously, for his performance.
The creation was done, all that was left to move their last pawn to allow their Rook to roam free across the board...