Author Topic: Star Wars: The Sanctimonious Seven  (Read 92941 times)

Offline Garyn Dakari

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Star Wars: The Sanctimonious Seven
Posted Nov 25 2014, 08:24 PM





Genre = Sci Fi/Fantasy
Setting = A Galaxy Far Far Away, 3642 BBY
RP Type = Action/Drama/Comedy
How to join = Closed
Participants: Aeliss Novak, Garyn Dakari, Tyler294

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~Index~

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« Last Edit: Dec 30 2014, 03:25 AM by Garyn Dakari »

Offline Garyn Dakari

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Prologue: Errol Reevio
Posted Nov 25 2014, 09:18 PM
    Coruscant, 02 in the morning...

    Blood was trickling over the Jedi's fingers. Smoke from burning tobacco reached his nose. The sound of glass shattering, and the devaronian's screams as he went through the window filled his ears. The air was bitterly cold at this altitude, flooding the room the moment the window went. But the Jedi didn't have time to think about that. His lightsaber was several feet to his left, on the floor.
    No time for that, either.
    Or his bleeding shoulder.
    No, thinking and running fast, the Jedi dove for the newly broken window, leaning out as far as he could without falling out completely, and reaching out with his bloodied hand, and the Force, after the falling alien. He let out a breath of relief and an involuntary "Yes!" as he caught it, bringing it to an uneasy stop mid-air. Once he was confident with his telekinetic grip, he lifted it up to his level and stepped back away from the window. He grabbed it between two fingers and released it with the Force, turning his back on the window.
    The cigarra was about a quarter burnt down, and was damp with saliva on the opposite end, but the Jedi put it in his mouth all the same, then returned his hand to applying pressure on his shoulder. He took a step forward, then stopped, swearing through clenched teeth. His adrenaline was wearing off and his shoulder really, really hurt, and he had no idea when he'd next have access to kolto.

    An intensely bright light washed over his back, then another came through a half-blocked side window, filling the room with long, black shadows.
    "Errol Reevio! This is the CSF! This building is surrounded!"
    Huh, he'd get some kolto pretty soon, as it turned out.
    The Jedi took the cigarra from his mouth and turned around, holding his arm up to block his face from the light. The spotlight right in front of him was blinding, but his Force senses knew that there was a police droid hovering just outside the window. He also knew that a spotlight wasn't the only thing being aimed at him. He brought the cigarra back to his mouth and inhaled deeply before lowering his arm.
    "Droid, trust me, this isn't what it looks like." He replied loudly, blowing smoke in the droid's direction.
    "Or... maybe it's exactly what it looks like..."
    Errol sighed, and started to lift his cigarra up once again, only to have it slip from his fingers and land among the shards of glass. This was confusing at first, as was the sudden numbness in his legs and blurriness in his vision... until he noticed the dart protruding from his chest.
    "Well... that just figures... doesn'it...."

« Last Edit: Dec 30 2014, 04:24 PM by Garyn Dakari »

Offline Tyler294

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Star Wars: The Sanctimonious Seven
Posted Nov 25 2014, 09:50 PM
On a remote, deep space outpost that nobody really cares about...

Two men stepped into a hangar bay, where a half-dozen shuttles lie dormant, not having been used properly for weeks. At a small "outpost" like this one, travel to and fro was so rare that some of the ships never saw flight more than a dozen times a year. But on this particular Republic military station, the lack of arrivals and departures didn't stop the old mechanic, one of the two men entering the hangar just now, from keeping the vessels in working condition just in case.

Beside the mechanic was a young, scrawny Republic security officer, who was quite the contrast to his older, overweight companion. The two proceeded into the hangar a couple steps as the security man yawned.

"You're not going to like it if this turns out to be a wild bantha chase; I don't appreciate being woken at this hour." the officer whined.

"Look officer, I've filed reports for an investigation and increased security for five weeks now after I found out that one of my shuttle was missing parts. Since that first discovery I've had four of my shuttles stolen from and yet you security people do nothing! This time, I have taken matters into my own hands!" the mechanic replied.

"Ung... whatever." the officer moaned in response as they walked up the boarding ramp and into one of the shuttles.

"There look!" the mechanic declared, pointing at a pile of tools in the middle of the floor in the shuttle.

"Tools... so?" the officer asked.

"They aren't mine!" the mechanic snapped, then pointed at the wall panel beside the tools "Now, you see this panel?"

"What about it?" was the groggy response.

"Behind it is the secondary bypass manifold, a small but expensive part that's been stolen from all four of my looted shuttles. It also happens to be in a tight crawl space accessible from this one point. Knowing, of course that my mysterious thief would naturally go to this one next, I rigged up a little trap here..."

He motioned to a few mechanical doohickeys that seemed to be holding the panel (which opened with interior hinges) locked shut.

"...so that once the thief entered the space, they'd trigger a small pressure plate I put inside and cause the panel to be closed shut behind them." the mechanic explained proudly.

"All well and good... why don't you just open the damn thing so I can go back to bed?" the officer muttered, shining his flashlight at the panel.

"Of course." the mechanic smirked, before hitting a release button and allowing the panel to spring open.

The officer jumped back in surprise to see a pair of eyes staring back at him. The mechanic laughed as the security man shook it off and got a closer look. The pair of eyes belonged to a raven-haired Human girl, lying flat on her back in the tight space and looking out at them. She was probably 18-years old or so, who was sporting an awkward smile on her face as she squinted at the light being shown into said.

"Hi!" she chirped after a moment, "So... uh... did I miss breakfast call again?"

Offline Garyn Dakari

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Prologue: Minno Malo
Posted Dec 03 2014, 02:43 PM
Shink.


The prison door whooshed and disappeared into the floor. The yellow skinned woman peered over the top of her tattered old book, to see a human man in uniform standing in the doorway with a tray of food. It wasn't usual for the door to open for food deliveries, nor was it usual for a military man to deliver it. But, I suppose this wasn't going to be a usual day.
    "Just set it there." She gestured at the unoccupied bed protruding from the wall across from the one she was lying on as she returned her attention to her book. This cell was intended for two prisoners, but she was in solitary for today.
    With a crayon-like drawing tool, which was the most they'd allow her to have, she began writing the words 'THE END' at the bottom of the page she was on. There were a few pages after that in the book itself, but this one was the last with words. She was interrupted by the sound of the man's footsteps, walking into the cell, then another shink as the door closed behind him. She lowered the book again and stared at him as he sat down on the other bed, food tray on his lap.
    "It can't be time already..."
    "Still three hours away." The man said, taking off his hat and setting it beside him.
    The nerf steak next to the herdues on the tray smelled delicious.
    "I am Commander Ziven Ray. What would you like to be addressed as, your birth name, or your most recent name?"
    "What does it matter?"
    Ray pulled out a datapad and began looking at a file.
    "It will make things simpler on me, as you've had your name changed thirteen times in the last few years, five of those simply reverting back to your birth name."
    "Minno is fine."
    "Birth name it is, Minno Malo." Ray said with a smile, setting the pad down and picking one of the herdues up off the plate. Minno's eyes tracked the bread as it was lifted up to the commander's mouth, at which point she abruptly sat up right, closing her book.
    "Look Commander, I don't care who you are half as much as I care what you're doing here eating my last meal."
    "I am here, Miss Malo, to tell you that this doesn't have to be your last meal."
    "By eating it?"
    The Commander raised an amused eyebrow.
    "By offering you a second chance - or in your case, a third or fourth."
    "I thought I'd just used my last chance."
    "Yes, though I am wondering why. Bombing a bank, only to steal from your own bank account - just a week after being released from prison. For the second time. You must have known you couldn't have got away with it, and your file doesn't indicate anything about suicidal tendencies, so why would you do that?"
    Minno looked down at her tattooed hands. "I suppose... it just seemed like the thing to do at the time."
    "But you see Minno, I think what you did is incredible."
    She looked up at Ray, confused. "Sir?"
    "Most people couldn't get a bomb like yours in the front door of a high security building, such as a bank, or... military base. You brought one all the way to the vaults, and then made it back to the front door again."
    He paused, giving Minno a chance to respond. She didn't.
    "On behalf of the Republic, I'm giving you a chance for redemption. A chance to put your abilities to a good cause. We're putting a team together for a special mission. If you succeed, your record will be expunged and you will receive immunity for all past crimes."
    "What's the catch?"
    "It will be very dangerous. But at least this way you'll have a chance."
    "What kind of mission is this?"
    Ray set the tray of food down on the bed and stood up. "If you want to know that, you'll have to follow me. If not... enjoy your meal, and may the Force be with you."
    The Commander left the cell, leaving the door open.

    Minno sat there for a while, playing with her fingers and staring at the food with contemplation. Then she picked up her book again and began skimming through the pages. Another man, one of the wardens, appeared in the open doorway. He didn't seem surprised to find it open, so he must have known about Ziven Ray's proposition.
    "Yes...?" Minno asked.
    He pointed at the book in her hands. "You requested that to be incinerated after your meal."
    "Oh... of course..." She closed her journal and turned it over in her hands a few times. "On second thought though... I think I'll hang onto it for a while."

    "Hey!"
    Ziven turned around and spotted the yellow skinned prisoner running after him, book tucked under arm and officer's hat in hand. She skidded to a stop as she reached him, and held up his hat.
    "You forgot this."
    "Ah. Thank you." He looked quite pleased as he put the hat back on his head, and lead the way out.

« Last Edit: Dec 30 2014, 04:24 PM by Garyn Dakari »

Offline Aeliss Novak

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Star Wars: The Sanctimonious Seven
Posted Dec 05 2014, 01:05 AM
The sight of his ship always sent warm fuzzy thoughts into the mind of the Zabrak captain, and today was no different. She was about thirty meters long and painted in shades of red, black and charcoal grey, giving her a fiery look. At first glance, one might find the ship's appearance intimidating. Until, of course, one realized that it looked like a freighter shaped vaguely like a giant two-flippered turtle with a curly black mustache painted onto its nose.
    But appearances, much like turtles, were often deceiving. The Mirethde may look like simply a giant flaming testudine freighter with matte black facial hair, but in fact she was much more than her ordinary sisters, at least to her captain. In the eight and a half years he had been flying the ship he had done numerous alterations. He wasn't done yet, as there was always something else he could change. He'd added new cargo spaces hidden throughout the ship, improved the engines and computers, completely replaced the fuel system with a more efficient one, upgraded her shields, and, most importantly, redid the galley. And that was only the beginning.
    However, the ship's first modification was both the most important and the most confusing. The captain wasn't sure who did it, how, or why, but it had always been there, in the very heart of the ship. Also much like turtles, the ship had a mind of her own, or maybe the mind had a ship of her own. The captain wasn't sure. He had never cared to ask any more than she had cared to answer.
    Before the two intrepid adventurers had found each other Miss Renn had hardly had any control over the ship's inner workings and spent her days simply haunting her crews like a bored poltergeist until they gave up and foisted the both of them off on another unsuspecting crew.
    Miss Renn and the ship's current captain had gotten off to a rocky start, but eventually became near inseparable. Together they modified the ship, wandered the galaxy committing petty theft and other such nonsense, making a living and generally pissing everyone off.
    The captain smiled at the memory as he entered the ship, wiped his boots carefully on the welcome mat, and walked up into the "throat" of the turtle.
    He didn't have many friends, and his strange artificial companion was his closest by a large margin. She was his partner-in-crime, co-pilot, confidante, and sister all rolled into one. He had willingly and unhesitatingly put his life in her hands more than once. There was no one else in the entire galaxy that he truly trusted.
    Unfortunately, much like turtles, his ship trusted any piece of shit she met, shook their hands and invited them in for tea.
    Every warm fuzzy thought in his pale pointy head scampered right out and back down the hall when the captain opened the door.
    "Mal'sharee kabno gunsos'orana," He cursed, staring at the group of officers sitting around his lounge. "What are they doing here?" He asked the ceiling, not bothering to address the intruders directly.
    "Having brunch." A youthful female voice answered immediately.
    One of the officers smiled at him and bit into a biscuit. "I can see that. Why are they having brunch here?"
    "They want to arrest you. I told them you weren't here and they asked if they could wait for you inside. They were so polite, I couldn't say no. You know I can't resist a nice polite boy."
    One of the officers opened his mouth to say something and the captain held up a hand to shush him and continued conversing with his ship as if they weren't even there. "I hate you."
    "D'aw...Come on," She whined, "You know you'll have forgiven me in a week, tops."
    "I'll be in prison in a week."
    "Oh, right..." He could practically hear the shrug in her voice. "Oh well. You'll be back, you always are. I'll just take a wee nap, no biggie. Find us later."
    One of the officers stood, brushing off his jacket. The captain glared at him as crumbs fell onto his ornate rug. "Sul Koth, you are under arrest for the smuggling of banned goods; three hundred ion grenades, one hundred blaster carbines, spice, and a crate of yellow fuzzy objects which will be investigated further."
    "Lily...Lily! Kabno..." Maybe today was a little different after all.

« Last Edit: Jan 03 2015, 03:35 PM by Aeliss Novak »

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Offline Garyn Dakari

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Prologue: Fyra Thatcher & Svent Dhuramav
Posted Dec 20 2014, 01:03 AM
   “One meter... two... three...” A large twi’lek man lying on his side whispered as he gradually let more and more of the cable and the one hundred and five or so pounds attached to it lower through the grate and into the room below.
   “Four... and a half... and stop.” He stopped, holding the cable firmly with both hands. “How’s it look, Fyra?” He asked in a low a voice as he could while still being picked up by his commlink.
   “Upside-down, mostly.” Fyra responded. “Swing me a little to the left.”
   The twi’lek shifted as quietly as he could, moving his arms and the small human girl hanging from them to the left.
   “That’s as far as I can.” He said.
   “That’s just fine...” Fyra stretched forward and plugged her pre-programmed slicing device into the computer, then pressed a couple buttons. She eyed the door nervously. “I think I got it.”
   The computer spikes were about halfway done when there were a couple dings off to the side as the door was unlocked.
   “Svent, someone’s coming.” Fyra said hurriedly. “Any ideas?”
   Svent cursed under his breath and reeled in the cable as fast as he could, stopping the moment he heard the door slide open. Fyra was suspended about a foot below the ceiling. She heard voices just outside the door.
   “I thought you were done in there?”
   “I was, just forgot my coat.”
   A middle-aged human man walked into the room, oblivious to the presence of the teenager hovering a few feet above his head, and retrieved the coat off the back of a computer chair. Svent waited for the sound of footsteps and the closing of the door, before breathing a sigh of relief from up in his spot in the ceiling, and wiping the sweat from his brow.
   “Thought they had us there... are you done?”
   “I forget how few people bother to look up.” Fyra muttered. “Not quite; it was about half through.”
   Svent lowered the girl back down, this time counting in his head.
   Fyra pressed a couple more buttons, then pulled the spike out. “Got it. Pull me up.”
   Svent began doing so.
   “Mind your head.”
   Fyra swung around in her harness on the way up and grabbed onto the edge of the ceiling, pulling herself the rest of the way through the hole.
   Svent helped her up then pushed himself up into a sitting position, groaning slightly about his back before pulling out his datapad to consult the schematics.
   “Excellent, security’s off this floor for the next twenty minutes. We’re in. Now comes the hard part...”


---


   “I’m at the door, have you reached the next terminal yet?
   “Southeast corridor, heading... wait... no... northeast? Hang on, let me consult my... just give me a moment.” Svent grumbled over the commlink.
   “Careful,” Fyra said with a smile. “I’ve heard many stories of people getting lost in the halls of the Republic Palace. We don’t want to be here forever.
   Svent snorted indignantly, “It’s just the map. I have excellent direction senses. Like a mynock. Like a Jedi mynock. Oh, I just had it upside down. Here we are... I am... and here’s the terminal. Hello my lovely...
   A few moments later, the door blocking Fyra’s way was unlocked.
   “Kay, iz unlocked but wait a moment, there are a couple guards in there. Shouldn’t be too hard to get past, just don’t get all confrontational.
   Fyra peeked into the room quickly to get an idea of where the guards were. One walked out of the room a moment later, and the other was pacing the room. She ducked back as he turned around and started walking towards her. With her back to the wall she listened to his footsteps as they drew nearer, paused, then started again heading in the opposite direction.
   She stepped out and into the room, following directly behind the guard, making sure to match his footsteps. As he turned around at the other end of the room she turned with him, then darted through the next door.
   “Hang a left and eventually you should find a stairs leading up... Meet me in the library, there are a few people there, just don’t act suspicious and we’ll be fine. Heh, six levels in already... only six dozen to go!” Svent said once she was clear of the guards.
   “I thought you said this would be hard.” The girl sounded disappointed as she jogged up the steps.
   “Someone told me it was the most secure building on Coruscant, I thought it would be... just give it a couple more levels, there’s bound to be a challenge here soon.


   Five hours and eight levels later...


   Fyra put her hands on her hips and surveyed the large shiny kitchen critically. “What are we doing here?”
   Svent went from fiddling his thick pink lekku to stroking his chin thoughtfully.
   “I’m not sure. To be honest I didn’t expect us to make it this far.”


   Two levels later...


   “I cannot believe this is working...” Svent muttered, adjusting the collar on his pilfered white jacket while pushing the cart of dishes and food along ahead of them.
   Fyra grimaced as she followed with a cart of her own. “I know. Maybe we should try harder next time.”
   “That general we just served drinks to? He has level three clearance.” Svent let a security card slide from his sleeve and he tapped it against the cart for emphasis. “Level three! We can bypass a dozen levels with this no problem. Being a waiter certainly has its perks...”
   “Indeed it does.” Fyra said, her mouth suddenly full of some kind of cheese. “This stuff is delicious. Think we can sneak some out?”
   “Sure, if security doesn’t confiscate them thinking they’re explosives... ha... these carts are far too loud, lets stow them away in this closet here.”
   Svent followed his datapad map to a side closet which he opened and shoved his cart into.
   “Next up, back to the elevator.”
    Fyra quickly stashed several expensive snacks on her person and stuffed as much as she could into her mouth before pushing the cart in next to Svent’s and following him to the elevator.
   “Here we are. Elevator!” Svent slid his stolen ID card across the scanner and the door slid open.
   Revealing a high-security room seemingly packed with guards, most of which turned their heads to face the door-opener.
   Svent blinked a couple times, then pressed a button to close the door again. He looked at Fyra.
   “That is not the elevator.”
   Fyra popped a tiny cake into her mouth. “Nice going, Mynock.”

« Last Edit: Dec 30 2014, 04:24 PM by Garyn Dakari »

Offline Tyler294

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Prologue: Kenneth Strayker
Posted Dec 21 2014, 04:29 PM
    A tall, linear man made his way down the halls of the Republic space dock, en route to room in the max security wing of the station. There he was to receive his briefing for a mission he'd been told was of utmost priority but for which he'd been given few details to this point.

    Codenamed "Eyeballs" by the Strategic Information Service, the man stood at 6' 4" and currently sported a thick, bushy mustache along with a short mohawk surrounded by a simulated receding hairline. On previous assignments he featured a full head of light brown hair, but for his new cover he needed to avoid looking like his other aliases as much as possible.
    His codename, oddly, came from a nickname some of his comrades gave him after he suffered torture focused around his eyes by the Sith Empire during the war. He was in fact, partially blind in one of those eyes, but not enough to severely impair him. He did still have some nasty scars around his eyes, however. Regardless, since he had to fake his own death at one point, his previous codename was retired and "Eyeballs" become his new one.

    "The Colonel is inside and awaiting your arrival, sir." a Republic guard declared from his post at the door.
    'Eyeballs' nodded slightly and entered the room. A green-skinned, middle-aged twi'lek woman in a black and red uniform looked up from the datapad on her desk, then stood up.
    "Ah, Major. Come in, take a seat."
    "I hope you have a lot of answers for me colonel, because what little I've been told of this mission has left me with a lot of questions." The agent stated bluntly as he sat down and folded his hands on his lap.
    "That's why I'm here."
    She sat back down, and pressed a few buttons on her datapad.
    "We have much to discuss."

---

    "And that should cover everything. Do you have more questions, or would you like to see the team we've assembled?"
    The man took a few moments to go over all the information in his head, before standing up and nodding.
    "Yes, I would like to see the team now." he responded.

    A couple halls and an elevator later, the two Republic officials were watching a certain pale skinned, dark haired zabrak of average height and lean build through one-way glass. He was in an interrogation/detention room, though he had been given a very limited datapad with a few holovids and books on it, and a commlink to contact a guard if he needed anything. It was somewhat cozier than a typical cell. The zabrak was slouched in a corner of the cell, the datapad balanced on one knee as he scrolled through one of the books. It didn't look like he was actually reading it, as he was going too fast and his orange eyes were glazed over. He looked thoroughly bored.

    "Sul Koth." The colonel identified him, while bringing up his file on her datapad. "A smuggler who's slipped past us and our arrest warrant several times in the last few years, despite having helped us smuggle weapons and refugees past the Sith during the war."
    "So we know he has Republic sympathies at least." the agent commented.
    "Sympathies, if not actual loyalties. We did have an warrant out on him after all. More importantly though, he's an exceptional pilot, and brave, maybe to the point of stupidity. His passengers once reported that they were being pursued by Sith fighters, he led them on a chase, then double-backed and flew alongside them, joining his own chase."
    "Impressive." the agent nodded, "He'll do."

    The colonel led the agent farther down the hall and stopped at another window, looking in on an identical cell, this one housing a mirialan woman. She had yellow skin, and medium-length brown hair hastily tied back into a pony tail. Her eyes were a pale blue, and her hands and parts of her face were covered in tattoos. She was sitting in a chair, writing in a flimsy book with a pen.

    "Minno Malo... aka Siri Cyn, aka Zu Zhen, aka Lilly Lo, aka Rika Cracken... and so on. A woman of many names, and many crimes. Most recently arrested for bombing a bank and stealing from her own account."
    "Indeed...?" the agent mused, observing the woman a tad more closely, "Is she unstable, or just that much of a showoff?"
    "Hard to say. She hasn't exhibited much in the way of arrogance or instability while we've observed her in prison, though she's offered little defense for her various crimes, and even less explanation. This is the one I had the most reservations about bringing into the team, but she has unparalleled demolition skills, adept slicing skills, and while she doesn't seem to have any great loyalties towards the republic, she does hate the Sith. As a teenager she escaped Sith captivity, and crippled the dreadnought she'd been held on on her way out."
    "I'll just have to keep an eye on her then." the agent nodded, "Moving along?"

    The next cell contained human girl about fourteen years old who was busy pacing in circles and rubbing her knuckles together. No more than five feet tall, she had a slight, athletic build, almost completely flat-chested. Her right nostril had a small black ring through it, contrasting with the innocent aura her dark curly low pigtails and blue eyes gave her.

    "Fyra Thatch, slicer, thief, and con woman. Though calling her a woman is being generous."
    "She does indeed look rather young. What is her age?" 'Eyeballs' inquired.
    "We don't know exactly, we don't have a lot on her. Younger than I'd normally assign to a mission like this. Which brings us to our next character..."

    Instead of having to walk anywhere, the colonel simply turned around in the hall and pressed a button to undim the one-way window behind them, revealing yet another cell. It had a nearly six and a half foot tall, fairly overweight, pink-skinned twi'lek man, sitting on a chair typing away at a datapad. He had dark eyes, and a few scars on one of his lekku and side of his face.

    "Svent Dhuramav. Partner slash bodyguard to miss Thatch, the two have committed various cyber crimes and heists over the past eighteen months, managing to elude the Republic completely. Arrogant, and egotistical, they nearly always left calling cards at their crime scenes. Their egos got them in the end though, we caught them impersonating waiters in the Palace of the Republic here on Coruscant. We tried to recruit Dhuramav alone, but both he and Fyra insisted they'll only work as a team."
    "The Palace of the Republic, huh? Those two might have a future in SIS if they survive this mission."

    Inside the next room was a average-height, light-skinned girl in her late teens. She had jet-black hair which was made up into a stylized pony tail with some bangs covering part of her left eye. She had a freckled face and relatively petite facial features. She was standing on her chair (which was on top of the table if there was a table) trying to reach a panel in the ceiling near the light. On the floor a lie a couple datapads which had been taken apart and apparently gutted.

    "And next we have Jodey Arias. Imperial born and traitor, she shamed her Imperial officer parents when she switched sides and fled to Republic space. She's a good pilot, mechanic, and thief as it turns out, we recently caught her after she'd been stealing and selling parts and supplies from one of our military bases. And evidently she's practicing her escape artist skills."
    "Another teenage girl...?" the agent inquired, being able to guess Jodey's approximate age by her appearance, "I would've thought we'd have enough drama on the mission with one."
        The colonel shrugged. "She's a capable adult, we work with what we've got."

    She moved to the next window. They saw the side profile of a dark skinned man in his thirties or forties, kneeling on the floor in a meditative posture. Barely visible due to the angle and shoulder length black hair, were some kind of goggles or cybernetic pieces covering his eyes, faintly glowing red.

    "Errol Reevio, Jedi Knight and war hero, long time ally of the Republic... until a couple months ago, when he was expelled from the Jedi Order. We have him here for the murder of a Jedi Master and her apprentice, and three Republic citizens. The Order recommends we keep him detained indefinitely, however, due to his exemplary record and numerous medals earned during the Great War, the Republic is willing to offer him this second chance."
    Reevio slowly looked up and turned his head to the side to face the agent through the one-way glass. He had a couple long and thing scars running across his face, possibly past or through one of his eyes, though the goggles made it impossible to tell.
    "Has any motivation been established for the murders?" the agent asked, shifting slightly when he saw Reevio apparently staring right at them.
    Reevio smiled and looked away.
    "When we caught him and asked him why he was here, he replied, and I quote, 'I guess I had it coming.' When asked why he did it, he said, I quote again, 'Maybe they had it coming too.' Beyond that, he's seemed unwilling to talk about it, though he has been a model prisoner."
    "Sounds like an interesting character to say the least." the agent nodded, "That is all of them then?"
    "One more." She pressed several buttons on her datapad before handing it to the agent. "Read it thoroughly and memorize it, he'll be one of them soon."
    "I've gone on some crazy assignments with some crazy people, but nothing like this one." the agent commented as he made a quick once-over of the datapad.
    "We have the utmost confidence in you and your ability to command this mission. May the Force be with you, Captain Strayker."

------------

« Last Edit: Dec 30 2014, 04:25 PM by Garyn Dakari »

Offline Tyler294

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Posted Dec 23 2014, 11:34 PM
About an hour later, the six convicts were seated in a cold, relatively empty room. Empty, save for the chairs they were sitting in and the desk with a chair that faced them. It was almost as though they were a class at school waiting for their teacher, minus the school desks.

Jodey had made sure to sit on the opposite end of the room as Sul, though she suspected he hadn't seen her yet. She wanted to have that remain the case as long as possible.

Offline Aeliss Novak

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Posted Dec 23 2014, 11:40 PM
Sul had not seen her, as he was too busy doing what looked suspiciously like angry sulking.

Fyra was sitting balanced on the back of her chair with her feet planted on the seat, absently french braiding the curls on the left side of her head into a pigtail as she surveyed the room, the other half of her hair still undone and messy. In contrast to the surly smuggler, the girl looked oddly excited to be there.

 --
Milestones are important, because they remind us that no matter how far we've come, we will never convert to the metric system!

Offline Garyn Dakari

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Posted Dec 23 2014, 11:43 PM
    Errol, who was sitting quietly between Sul and Fya, broke the silence.
    "Careful kid, you're gonna knock that chair over."
    Svent, sitting on the opposite side of Fyra, just chuckled to himself.

Offline Aeliss Novak

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Posted Dec 23 2014, 11:44 PM
Fyra grinned, still braiding her hair. "Not without help."

 --
Milestones are important, because they remind us that no matter how far we've come, we will never convert to the metric system!

Offline Tyler294

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Posted Dec 23 2014, 11:49 PM
Jodey slowly peeked across the crew to see if Sul had noticed her yet. She also took a moment to look at all the people she was with in the process.

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Posted Dec 23 2014, 11:54 PM
Sul apparently hadn't, as he was looking down at his crossed arms and slouching in his seat. He was now muttering something under his breath, too quietly for anyone to hear.

 --
Milestones are important, because they remind us that no matter how far we've come, we will never convert to the metric system!

Offline Garyn Dakari

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Posted Dec 24 2014, 12:03 AM
    Minno was staring at and playing with her hands, oblivious to the girl peering past her.
    Svent sighed. "How long must we wait?" He asked no one in particular.

Offline Tyler294

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Posted Dec 24 2014, 12:18 AM
The door opened at that moment with a soft whoosh and the agent entered the room. He avoided eye contact with the convicts as he made his way directly toward the desk.

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Posted Dec 24 2014, 12:18 AM
    Fyra's chair suddenly fell over backwards with a loud clatter.

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Posted Dec 24 2014, 12:19 AM
The agent stopped and slowly turned to look at the source of the noise. Annoyance was evident on his face.

Jodey snickered slightly as she leaned back in her chair and tried to look small.

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Posted Dec 24 2014, 12:19 AM
    Svent and Minno both jumped and looked at Fyra in surprise and concern, Reevio simply crossed his legs and watched the agent intently.

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Posted Dec 24 2014, 12:21 AM
The girl somersaulted backwards reflexively, ending in a crouch on the floor. She glanced around the room as she stood up and silently stood the chair back up. Her gaze landed on Errol and she raised her eyebrows in silent accusation, though she was smiling slightly.


Sul ignored both the noise and the agent and just sighed before continuing with his glaring.

 --
Milestones are important, because they remind us that no matter how far we've come, we will never convert to the metric system!

Offline Tyler294

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Posted Dec 24 2014, 12:25 AM
The agent took position behind the desk and glared at Fyra until she was seated again. He then turned his attention to Sul.

"Before I begin, I would appreciate it if you would turn your attention to me, Mr. Koth." the agent stated in a blunt tone.

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Posted Dec 24 2014, 12:26 AM
Sul raised his orange eyes lazily up to the agent, but other than that remained in his bored, slouched position. He clearly had his attention, but not his respect.


Fyra sat and resumed braiding her hair.

 --
Milestones are important, because they remind us that no matter how far we've come, we will never convert to the metric system!

Offline Tyler294

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Posted Dec 24 2014, 12:33 AM
The agent stared at Sul for a few extra seconds before looking back across the whole group and speaking.

"I don't believe I need to restate why you all are here; I'm sure you've had plenty of time to dwell on that subject. I'm here to tell you what you are going to be doing from here on out. My name is Kennath Strayker, you will address me as Captain Strayker, and I will be leading this mission."

Strayker began to pace with his arms behind his back.

"The mission will involve the seven of us, posing as mercenary scavengers, traveling into the Unknown Regions to salvage an old Republic scout craft. The ship is expensive and the Republic wants it and its data recovered. However, due to the fleet being stretched thin across the border, they cannot spare any military-grade starships to send on his mission. Instead, we will be using Mr. Koth's vessel, which has been determined to be suitable for our cover. We are using cover because we don't want any wandering Sith patrols to be tipped-off to our origin or goal. Once we find the scout ship, we will dock, reactivate the automated systems, and return to the Republic border with the salvaged vessel."

Strayker stopped pacing and leaned forward against the desk.

"While the mission sounds simple, it could be far from. The Unknown Regions are referred to as such for a reason. We will have to make frequent hyperjumps and occasionally reduce to sub-light speed, due to the uncharted nature of the territory we'll be navigating. There's a chance we could get lost. There's a chance we could fall victim to undiscovered space phenomena. There's a chance we could come under attack by pirates or hostile aliens, among other things. Frankly, it is possible, if not likely, that we will not all return."

« Last Edit: Dec 24 2014, 12:55 AM by Tyler294 »

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Posted Dec 24 2014, 01:00 AM
Errol raised a hand.

Offline Tyler294

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Posted Dec 24 2014, 01:01 AM
"Yes, Mr. Reevio?" the agent calmly inquired.

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Posted Dec 24 2014, 01:05 AM
    "I think there's another thing there's a chance of..." Errol shifted forwards and cast a couple glances down the line of people sitting next to him.
    "Not meanin' to insult the moral integrity of our... fine crew, but what's to stop one of us folk from bleedin' the rest out during hyperspace then hightailing it from there?" He asked, using hand gestures as appropriate.