To Whom it May Concern (Invasion of Ord Mantel)

[Darth Metus]

With much intrigue, the clone sat back and watched as his attractive...comrade...began to then deal out the cards. Her fingers were the definition of nimble as she slung the cards across the table; ultimately dealing out the totality of the deck. When it was all said and done, Ishmael then picked up his pile of cards and began to organize them, first by suit and then by denomination. Of course, he did not know what game they were playing and looked to the woman for clarification. Before he could so much as open his mouth to ask the obvious, she said: "We're playing a game called Spades!" This caused Ishmael to all but throw his cards across the table in frustration; but he restrained himself quite nicely.

"That game requires four players at least. There's only three of us."

 

[Darth Metus]

At long last, the Mandalorian reached the apex of his incantation! His voice climbed an octave higher before uttering the final sequence of words; an act which commanded the swirling, emerald twister to commit its final act. From the very top of the vortex, consolidation occurred; and swiftly the twister began to minimize its total form. The process took several seconds to accomplish, and all the while Isley sat within the "eye" of the storm he had created, patiently awaiting the result of his tireless efforts. What's more, he acted as a medium: channeling the Dark Side energies of the room into the basin which possessed the target of this ritual. When the consolidation of the Spirit Ichor began to conclude, what was once a raging cyclone of emerald mist was reduced to a shining cloud spinning about the basin.

However, Isley did not move; for he absolutely would not. Any wrong movements...any sudden jolts...any mistakes would compromise the integrity of his masterpiece.

And he succeeded! As its final gesture before fading from the current plane of existence, the emerald twister of spirit ichor glimmered brightly. It then spun and spun over the basin, gently churning the depths of the blood which housed the Qixoni Crystal. These "waters" parted, revealing the gem underneath, and promptly stayed in place until the Spirit Ichor had concluded this act. In but the blink of an eye, there was a final, brilliant flash of light and the cyclone descended upon the gem. It saturated each and every molecule with its presence and began to usher in changes. Prompted by the alchemical treatment of the blood, the Spirit Ichor began to adjust the Qixoni Crystal's structure at a molecular level. It added a small sum of weight to its form as a result of this...but the changes were all worth it in the end...

For now, the Crystal was impervious to a wide variety of ails.

 

[Darth Metus]

The rather attractive woman gave a light, almost-embarrassed laugh before Ishmael rolled his eyes. He then reached out and ensnared the totality of the deck into his grasp. His fingers moved swiftly, shuffling the fifty-two cards as quickly as he possibly could. Then, he looked to the duo before him and gave a coy smile. "Alright, now I'm picking what we play." he said, dealing out a pair of cards to each of them. He deliberately left them face down, denoting the game of choice was 21. However, if he was going to play, he was going to make it interesting. "Either we play for credits or its strip. Your call." he said, perfectly fine with either outcome.

 

[Darth Metus]

In fact, the depths of the augmentation ran deep. The Spirit Ichor had saturated each and every fiber of the Qixoni Crystal with its presence and then began adjustments at a sub-atomic level. These adjustments were vastly similar in structure to the one reference metal that the Mandalorian had on hand: his beskar'gam. Having viewed the molecular structure of the beskar with his "mind's eye" through "zooming" in on its form, Isley was able to guide the emerald mist through this initial step. Of course, the process resulted in a change in weight of the Crystal, but this was to be expected; such was the nature of Alchemy after all. Now that the adjustments had been completed, the Qixoni Crystal now enjoyed a variety of features: all of whom revolved around a pronounced durability.

No longer would the crystal have fear of the blades of lightsabers, for this particular treatment had seen fit to augment its strength to withstand such blows. In fact, the durability was nay indestructible; as was the case with most items crafted through Sith Alchemy. However, while this durability was indeed the definition of impressive, there were still a wide variety of changes to make. This next step would be the hallmark in setting apart the final product from the vast majority of items created through the art of Sith Alchemy, for Isley had a particular effect in mind. Therefore, he lowered his fingers into the basin and carefully plucked the Qixoni Crystal from the depths of the blood. He gently gave the crystal a light shake in order to liberate its form from most of the blood; thereby providing him the view he had in mind.

Lofting the Crystal back up the light, Isley was clearly able to see the effect of this new combination of arts. While the blood-crimson hue remained unchanged, there was a new feature which characterized the gem. No longer did light shine fully through its center, displaying the many facets within. Instead, the light revealed what looked to be an emerald pyre, raging away in the heart of the gem. 'Twas the mark of the Spirit Ichor findin a new home within the stone; a fact which prompted a satisfied grin from the Mandalorian. However, there was still much to do in order to finalize this ambitious project, so Isley placed the Qixoni Crystal in the flat of his palm. He then, having inhaled a deep breath, opened his mind and body to the Force once more, beckoning it to fall down upon him.

It answered mightily, rushing down like a cascade. The Dark Side of the Force influxed to where he sat and filled his every fiber and every sense with its presence. From here, Isley began the process of acting as a medium between the Darkness and the Qixoni Crystal; allowing the energies to flow through him. Dutifully, he guided the Force down upon the Crystal, prompting the next set of adjustments that were to be made to its form.

 

[Darth Metus]

Silence suddenly came over the woman and the portly helmsman as Ishmael sounded the terms of the game. Then, there was a sputtering noise on the part of the latter. Either proposition was absolutely preposterous to a man of his position, so he promptly rose from his seat and excused himself. This left the woman, whom Ishmael then proceeded to give a wink to. Oh yeah, she was game for Strip Blackjack. With a chuckle, he scooted closer to the deck and asked the magic question: "Hit...or stay." To which the woman answered: "Hit me."

 

[Darth Metus]

This set of adjustments revolved around a change of charge, so to speak. As the Mandalorian continued to stain the entirety of the Qixoni Crystal with the Dark Side of the Force, he began diligently seeking out the tell-tale "aura" that would be pivotal in this next step. This particular signature was magnetic in nature and governed how the gem would respond to assaults by blasters, lasers, and even Force-based electricity. At present, such offenses would result in the damaging or even decimation of the gem; hence the necessity of this particular adjustment. Here, Isley sought to reverse the magnetic polarity of the Qixoni Crystal, a fact that would immensely alter the gem's relationship with the aforementioned offenses. In particular, blaster bolts and lasers would be deflected, or even reflected, upon striking its surface.

While impressive, this trait pales in comparison to how exceptional the Qixoni Crystal's new relationship with Force-based Electricity would be. The most efficient way to describe this new reaction was to illustration of a lightning rod. Upon entering the vicinity of the gem, Force-based electricity would be immediately drawn to it; much akin to a moth being drawn to flame. Then, upon contact, said energies would be absorbed into the Crystal's depths and stored momentarily; for at the whim of the wielder, those energies could be released in the form of a potent, electrical blast. However, while this was the standard effect that came from reversing an item's magnetic polarity...Isley had something a touch different in mind; something befitting the momentous occasion of Alchemy meeting Dathomirian Magicks.

What Isley desired was something much more...potent. As opposed to simply attracting and absorbing one particular type of energy, that of Force-based electricity, the Mandalorian sought to expand this trait. In particular, the energy sources he sought to be attracted and absorbed were those that he hardened the gem against: the blades of lightsabers, blaster bolts, and lasers. And as opposed to a burst of electric energy being fired forth, Isley had in mind something much, much greater. This would be a terrifyingly deadly blast of Dark Side power, strong enough to punch through durasteel if need be...yes, this would be the perfect keystone to the ambitions of the Mandalorian. But first, he had to finish this one, crucial step.

 

[Nolan Detta]

How long had been since Nolan piloted a ship on his own. He sat behind the console of the light freighter and...it wasn't going well. He forgot to have the navigation computer checked and the engine was malfunctioning. He was crashing...again. He figured, why not make it interesting and see where he can lan...crash it.

He was able to alter the course by 10 degrees east, just outside the capital city. And with that he began his , shall we say, landing sequence. He ran to an air lock, turned the shields on full and climbed to the outer hull. Tying himself down to a turret, he prepared for entry.

@Anyone.

 

[Gilamar Skirata]

Leaning against the Hull of the Lazy Strill Gil sighed as he watched the Republic soldiers move their junk off of the junk planet. Things were going smoother than he had thought with few fights. In fact it seemed like a few Mandalorians were getting along with the Republic again. Shaking his head he took a swig of his black ale and entered the shuttle up the boarding ramp.

 

[Captain Larraq]

Rygel Larraq sat aboard the bridge of the Skira and wondered why on earth the withdrawal of Republic assets was taking so long. Counting the pile of money he had earned from his card game against some of the other bridge officers, Larraq smiled. It might be a long, boring, drawn out blockade... But at least he was making the most of it.

 

[Darth Metus]

With but a flick of his wrist, Ishmael pulled the top card off of the deck and laid it down before the woman. Deliberately, as was the name of the game, he left this card face-up; thereby revealing its value...and to his immense amusement, it was a high face card. Pursing her lips slightly, the officer then flipped over her cards; revealing a grand total of 23. "And I'll stay." said the clone, adding insult to injury. His total was a paltry 17, thereby making him the victor of this round. "Now then, where should we get started..." he said, rubbing his palms together.

 

[Darth Metus]

As such, Isley stretched forth his hands over the basin and inhaled a deep breath. This was poised to calm, center, and focus his mind for the task at hand. He then began diligently seeking out the tell-tale "aura" that was vastly similar, yet weaker, than a jolt of Force Lightning. This search was not the swiftest of occurrences, but after several moments of silence there was a breakthrough. Manifesting clearly before his "mind's eye" was an almost golden sheen which clung to the Qixoni Crystal: its magnetic polarity. Now it was simply a matter of reversing this charge. In order to accomplish this, the Mandalorian first drew upon the Dark Side of the Force and commanded its strength to do his bidding. It responded with the utmost obedience, surging forth to his waiting palms.

There, its might manifested in the form of crackling electricity: the beginnings of Force Lightning but not yet projected. As opposed to launching the energies as typical (in a deadly arc), Isley began to carefully guide the dark-born energies through the crystal. At once, the sparks leapt from his fingertips and palms and gently struck the gem, passing through one at a time; with each successful pass resulting in a flicker of the golden sheen. Again and again, the Mandalorian worked at the reversal of the Qixoni Crystal's magnetic polarity until finally the golden sheen flickered one final time...and was briefly gone. For a novice of the alchemical arts, this turn of events would have been alarming; for the polarity that once was seemingly was no more.

However, Isley knew better. In fact, this was the physical manifestation of his success. This was due to the fact that he had tuned himself to the original polarity, so much so that it would take an adjusted search to see the successful reversal. Confident in his abilities as it were, the Mandalorian did not embark on this task but instead released a deep exhale. He allowed the crackling electricity between his fingers and upon his palms to dissipate into nothing and promptly lowered his hands. Now that this step was out of the way, there was only a single adjustment that would need to be undertaken before the Qixoni Crystal was complete. However, this step would require the utilization of his lightsaber or a decent blaster; either or.

 

[Darth Metus]

At once, a crimson tinge washed over the woman's cheeks...but she did not hesitate to keep up her end of the bargain. However, how she kept her word came as a slight disappointment to the clone; for she kicked up her right foot immediately. She then undid the lacing to her boot and slid it off; dropping it to the floor as "sensually" as possible. "There's your reward big boy, deal the next hand." she said with a wink, causing a bemused chuckle to escape Ishmael's lips. "Alright, let's go." he said, collecting the cards once more. He shuffled them up and began the process anew; dealing out two to the both of them.

 

[Darth Metus]

At once, the Mandalorian rose from his seat on the floor and raised his arms above his head. He took a moment to stretch, which caused him to fill the room with a pronounced groan, before letting his arms flop down to his sides. From there, it was back to the task at hand, which revolved around making absolutely certain that the Crystal could handle the two energy sources that he desired. On a whim, he decided that the first of which would be the bolts of blasters; and as such it would require a brief voyage to the nearest weapon's locker. To this end, Isley turned on his heel and strode out of the room; making absolutely certain to lock the door behind him. Then, long, confident strides bore him into the hall and south, where he immediately stepped into a lift.

Reaching towards the wall-mounted panel, he selected the number 3, which would take him to the third floor. There, he would find the armory; which contained a wide variety of weapons provided by the Confederacy. From Blas-Tech's finest to Czerka's newest, the Blue Krait's armory had it all. The journey from the lowermost level to the third floor took only an instant and his arrival was heralded by a light "ding!" Once the doors slid open, the Mandalorian resumed his brisk pace and entered the corridor anew; this time coming to a halt before the armory door. He promptly keyed in the proper passcode upon the pad affixed to the wall and promptly stepped within once the door slid open. Momentarily, he was greeted with nothing save darkness, but then the armory's lights kicked on simultaneously.

The illumination from above revealed the exceptional stockpile at the Blue Krait's disposal and Isley ultimately settled upon a Hyperion Rifle: one of the finest weapons produced by Blas-Tech Industries. Slinging it over his shoulder, Isley then began to whistle a tune as he made the return trip back to his personal quarters. He promptly locked the armory behind him and entered the lift once more; repeating the process which got him there in reverse. Then, once he had reached the door to his quarters, the Mandalorian admitted himself within and re-locked it. Privacy was a key concern these days, after all, and he didn't want people simply waltzing in whilst he was in the middle of creating something...rather ingenious.

 

[Darth Metus]

"You know the drill. Hit or stay." said Ishmael with a devilish grin. However, the officer matched his grin and said: "Why don't you go first this time? Taking turns is only fair." There was sound logic to this train of thought, and therefore the clone dealt himself a single card...which took his hand over into 25. "Kark." he swore, before the woman said "Stay." However, since she wanted to play the coy game, so could he. Unlacing his boot, Ishmael then kicked his shoe off and gave a wink. "There, now we're even."

 

[Darth Metus]

For this step, the Mandalorian would have to apply the art of Tutaminis rather creatively...whilst simultaneously acting as a medium for the Dark Side of the Force. However, having done such a thing before, Isley was confident that he could successfully accomplish this task with minimal difficulty. Lowering himself to the floor once more, he lulled his eyes to a close and opened himself up to the ebb and flow of the Force, calling it once more down upon him like he had done previously. Once the energies surged forth and answered his call, he then hoisted the crystal into the air via telekinesis. Holding it steady, the Mandalorian then shouldered the Hyperion Rifle and carefully squeezed the trigger, causing the weapon to charge.

Then, applying Tutaminis, the Mandalorian directed the flow of the energies at a pace that he could work with. The stream of light which issued from the barrel promptly impacted the gem...but did not shatter it as would be expected. No, instead, the Mandalorian began to make molecular adjustments to the crystal once more, utilizing the energies of the Hyperion Rifle as a guideline. Through this, he was forming a bond between the energy produced by the weapon and the crystal itself; similar in nature to that of standard alchemized products and Force Lightning. When a full round of the energy had been released, the Mandalorian then released the trigger and lowered the weapon to the ground, opting to repeat the process with his lightsaber at this point.

Reaching for his utility belt, Isley promptly seized the saberstaff in his grasp and ignited the first of its two blades. He then carefully touched the tip of the blade to the crystal, once more making adjustments at a molecular level...but just as he finished, a reaction occurred which caused his eyes to widen! The telekinetcally suspended crystal began to actively feed upon the lightsaber's energy, drawing more and more of its power within its form until the lightsaber fizzled out. With surprise and joy plastered across his face, the Mandalorian then took the gem into his palm and held it aloft, conducting the Force through its length to test the powers within. In response, a solid burst of raw energies exploded forth from the gem and punched a hole in the durasteel floor...

The project had been successful.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

CITY OF TRADER'S QUARTER
SPACEPORT

Ord Mantell's spaceport accoutrements came in exactly one color: blargh, a beigeish mixture of bland and vomit, liberally festooned with rust. The word came from the savrip with whom Ember was arm-wrestling, elbows propped on an empty crate of repeating blaster rifles. The savrips were good people, and the Republic under Apparine had been looking to put down their struggle for self-determination. So Ember had brought them guns at a fair price, smuggled in on the Coronet, and in return he'd asked for an arm-wrestling match.

His bare feet -- he'd shredded boots like this against a rancor -- dug about four inches into the earth as he and the silverback savrip went at it in the middle of the spaceport.

[member="Chloe Blake"]

 

[Chloe Blake]

CITY OF TRADER'S QUARTER
SPACEPORT

[member="Ember Rekali"]


It was the roar of jeers and cheers that brought the space gypsy blonde wandering on over to circle of sentient bodies. Being naturally the curious sort, Chloe Blake soon came weaving on through the crowd, wide blue eyes attempting to catch a glimpse of just what the whole ruckus was about.

She first heard the grunts, the the pound of flesh. Inching past under the arm of a thickly muscled Trandoshan, her blonde head rose to bear the sight of two straining bodies.

"Now ain't that a sight you don't see everyday," came her half amused murmur, as the Mantellian Savrips's thick trunk like arm take firmly the male humanoid's own.

Bets were already being made, mainly in the Savrips's favor. Ain't no other sentient round these parts so naturally inclined to combat like 'em, and the one wrestling was a mighty big'un alright.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Chloe Blake"]

The Coronet was docked nearby, in a tall vertical bay, and a group of his crewmen sat or stood around the small pile of beskar that was his armor. To arm-wrestle the Savrip, he wore simple trousers and shirt, the kind that every ship kept folded up by the hundreds or thousands. The spot near this landing pad was dirt and scraggly grass, and the Savrip's strength had driven him in up to his ankles. That had subtle but serious consequences for angle, as any experienced arm wrestler would intuit.

But he'd arm-wrestled a bull rancor and won. He could do this.

Granted, a savrip was more self-aware than a rancor, capable of greater focus, which meant a higher percentage of muscle fibers engaged by the brain. Which in turn meant a sustained, determined effort that challenged him in ways the rancor hadn't.

He caught a flicker of blonde over the savrip's hulking shoulder.

 

[Chloe Blake]

Rapt amused attention would follow [member="Ember Rekali"] 's form, only to give a faint wince as she saw him sink into the dirt and grass.

"Careful of your ankles, there," came Chloe's soft warning, lost in the roar of the cheering crowd, but would be said none the less. Few folk would be keen on taking a full grown Savrip, so this was an interesting bit of entertainment for spacers and Mantellian's alike.

"Ten credits on the Savrip, there!" came a loud cry from her right, catching her attention momentarily. It was a Devonronian. Not surprised.

Grin in place, her blonde head went back to the main spectacle. Quick to think, the Savrip took a side step and made a motion to force the man to his right, as dust rose in a small cloud as his feet and long arms strained under his brute strength.

 

[Ashin Varanin]

[member="Chloe Blake"]

The sidestep was a cheater's move, and even as it near bent Ember in half sideways, he knew he'd won in the eyes of just about everyone. If a fething Mantellian Savrip silverback needed to cheat to beat him, he could walk away with his head held high.

Except for the part where the local spacers would now look at him and, by extension, his crew as weaker for it.

The Savrip let up, and Ember rose and kept rising. He came down with a left hammerfist to the top of the silverback's skull. Five hundred pounds of Mantellian Savrip hit the dirt.

As silence fell, Ember wiped dirt from his feet on the backs of his pantlegs, and slipped back into beskar boots. His eye - purple, Vahla, though his build didn't say Vahla too much - caught the blonde through the dispersing crowd. "My ankles're fine, thanks," he said.