Spaceport Patrol, Part II: Choice and Consequence

A free-form writing forum set in the Star Wars Universe...

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sidekick
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Post by sidekick » Wed Aug 03, 2005 2:40 am

OOC: I'm still stuck posting from the library - ICK. But since things are pretty quiet here, I won't rush to get one up.
Your mum, yeah?

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Captain Hector
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Post by Captain Hector » Wed Aug 03, 2005 4:33 pm

ooc: i'm home, but i can blame my lack of posts to 2 things...Neverwinter Nights...and facebook.com. for those of you who dont know what facebook is...its like crack. but with pictures and joinable groups and friends...
Its a trap! Your tongue can't repel flavor of that magnitude!

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High Moff Betts
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Post by High Moff Betts » Tue Aug 23, 2005 12:20 pm

Pirates of the sword coast? Or just random online play?
"Tucker, there's a very fine line between not listening and not caring. I like to think I walk that line every day." -Church. Red vs. Blue.

‘I swear by my pretty florid bonnet I will end you’ –Mal. Firefly.

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Scottish Ninja
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Post by Scottish Ninja » Wed Aug 24, 2005 12:33 pm

OOC: That's not the question, the question is START POSTING NOW DAMMIT!
That's no tank!
"t all has to show impeccable logic and unflawed realism, even if it deals with a different galaxy and an era 3,000 years in the past or the future." - George Lucas

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High Moff Betts
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Post by High Moff Betts » Thu Aug 25, 2005 1:06 am

OOc: Erm... that wasn't exactly a question now was it.
"Tucker, there's a very fine line between not listening and not caring. I like to think I walk that line every day." -Church. Red vs. Blue.

‘I swear by my pretty florid bonnet I will end you’ –Mal. Firefly.

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Scottish Ninja
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Post by Scottish Ninja » Thu Aug 25, 2005 7:13 am

OOC: No, not exactly. Anyway... Someone ought to post something, though. And since I was the second to last person to make an IC post - not it!
That's no tank!
"t all has to show impeccable logic and unflawed realism, even if it deals with a different galaxy and an era 3,000 years in the past or the future." - George Lucas

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High Moff Betts
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Post by High Moff Betts » Thu Aug 25, 2005 12:43 pm

Ooc: Okay, I promise i'll post something in the next...
epoch.
"Tucker, there's a very fine line between not listening and not caring. I like to think I walk that line every day." -Church. Red vs. Blue.

‘I swear by my pretty florid bonnet I will end you’ –Mal. Firefly.

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Scottish Ninja
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Post by Scottish Ninja » Thu Aug 25, 2005 4:18 pm

I'll have a post up by the next era, don't worry.
That's no tank!
"t all has to show impeccable logic and unflawed realism, even if it deals with a different galaxy and an era 3,000 years in the past or the future." - George Lucas

JerinPuck
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Post by JerinPuck » Sat Aug 27, 2005 8:08 pm

Hmm. This sounds promising. :| ;)
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Captain Hector
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Post by Captain Hector » Sat Aug 27, 2005 9:32 pm

ooc: no, original...i just bought it.

and im moving into my dorm on monday. once i get setled in, ill be back to posting.

thats sooner than the next eon...
Its a trap! Your tongue can't repel flavor of that magnitude!

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JediMasterJolturn
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Post by JediMasterJolturn » Wed Aug 31, 2005 1:03 am

OOC:

Doctor: "Define Space Patrol for me."

Jolts: "Mm oke, it's this band of rp-ers that have really great time with eachother, promising eachother to post next time they get on-line, while in reality this could take up to three months."

Doctor: "Well it does clear things up for me, I think you need a more stable posting environment."

Jolts: "Reeeaaally?"


Well I'm back in school with a lot of free time on my hands so yay, more posting for me.
SP forever!

At first, dreams seem impossible, then improbable, and eventually inevitable. - *~ Christopher Reeve~*

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Master_Cameo_Naton
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Post by Master_Cameo_Naton » Wed Aug 31, 2005 5:31 am

(ooc : Also, if anyone is interested... There's gonna be some fun stuff happening on Cecil's Moon on the MBT in the near future... Probably around the same time you guys start posting IC again. ;) Think NJO. Hostile aliens coming out of the Unknown Regions, conquering everything in sight... and the next planet in line is Cecil's Moon. :) Should be fun to roleplay us losing for once.)
Exile from the Exodus... Space Patrol... forever.

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Post by Master_Cameo_Naton » Wed Sep 07, 2005 3:45 pm

(ooc : And on another note, the golden age SP'ers from the old Sony boards will want to check out this...

http://www.starwars-exodus.com/forum/vi ... php?t=5684

I know we don't always read the Roleplaying OOC forums, but this could be a fun story.)
Exile from the Exodus... Space Patrol... forever.

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UnknownSector
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Post by UnknownSector » Tue Sep 13, 2005 8:46 am

*returns from the Void*

Is this thing still going?
Madness, I tell you. We need more pirates.
26

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Scottish Ninja
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Post by Scottish Ninja » Tue Sep 13, 2005 5:23 pm

I hope so...
That's no tank!
"t all has to show impeccable logic and unflawed realism, even if it deals with a different galaxy and an era 3,000 years in the past or the future." - George Lucas

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UnknownSector
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Post by UnknownSector » Tue Sep 20, 2005 5:47 am

ooc: Well, from what I get, Jarin's stuck in the control room confronted by the Inquisition, along with Cameo and Drevon, at least. As well as the slicer(s). I'll make a post myself, see if I can't bring this story back from the dead.
Madness, I tell you. We need more pirates.
26

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UnknownSector
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Post by UnknownSector » Wed Sep 21, 2005 3:33 pm

ooc: *brandishes paddles* CLEAR!!! *ch-clack*

ic:

Jarin mentally cursed as the distinct sound of destroyer droids echoed in the halls. A feeling akin to consternation chewed at the edge of his mind as the enemy forces moved into view. The threat of capture seemed inevitable and imminent. The Padawan’s saber reflexively ignited in his hand during the Inquisitor’s speech, humming softly. The Imperial force was not terribly impressed; after all, the ray shielding would resist any and all known weaponry. Jarin’s only plan, however, hinged primarily on the ray shield remaining intact.

He knew that the security station’s walls were likely to be heavily reinforced to deter attacks, which left only two options. Jarin plunged his saber straight down and spun, intent on carving an exit in the floor to the hall below. Unfortunately, there was no hall underneath the room. There was a ventilation shaft.

Which meant that as soon as Jarin completed his rotation, he immediately plunged down into darkness with no idea how far he would fall.
Madness, I tell you. We need more pirates.
26

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Post by UnknownSector » Sun Oct 09, 2005 10:33 am

The Force warned him of the coming impact a scant moment before it arrived. Jarin reached out and, more through luck than any skill, managed to seize a rubber-sheathed cable. The section of flooring smashed viciously into metal support beams, crumbling and continuing its descent into the bowels of the building. Jarin swung to a sharp halt, his shoulder and arm protesting at the jolt. The Padawan hung there for a few moments, his eyes adjusting to the dim light from the hole several stories above.

The shaft had widened considerably, apparently the result of the convergence of several other tunnels. Knowing the affinity Hutts had for utilizing living employees whenever practical, Jarin was not surprised to spot an access ladder on the opposite side of the shaft. He supposed that the Hutt proclivity for biological service was rooted in the fact that their brutal bent was satisfied more by killing something alive than simply smashing intelligent machinery.

Stowing his lightsaber and climbing up the cable took only a moment. Jarin balanced precariously before launching himself across the shaft, hands extended toward the rungs. Descending further into the vents, he centered himself and listened for the Force.

At least fifteen minutes passed before Jarin found an exit that seemed even slightly secure. It seemed that the Hutt had gone hand-in-glove with the Imperials, at least for the time being. Every grate and opening only revealed a hall or room patrolled by guards and troopers. He kept moving and finally found a small shaft that led to an outside alley.

Jarin kicked the grate loose and tumbled out into the streets of Nar Shaddaa. Shedding his cloak, he tied it up into a loose bundle and tucked it under his arm, gazing at his reflection in the transparisteel side of the building.

I suppose I don’t look TOO much like a Jedi. Just a streetperson.

He turned to go, making sure his lightsaber was accessible but not visible. Jarin’s thoughts turned to the rest of the group. He had no idea what had happened to Drevon and the others, whether they had escaped through his hole, fought, or been captured. Or killed, his mind added cheerfully. As for Litan and the rest that had entered the casino, or the others aboard the Oath, Jarin was clueless as to their success or even their whereabouts.

He was stuck in a hostile city, lost, alone, and purposeless.

The Padawan began walking, taking random turns and picking streets on a whim. He didn’t even bother to ask the Force, preferring to leave it all up to chance. Jarin’s mind flashed back once again to the Jedi Temple.

***

Meklur Aren’s face crinkled up into a smile as he watched his apprentice. Jarin had taken to the trio of Younglings greatly, and they, in turn, responded with something almost akin to hero-worship. Two females, both human, and a boy who appeared to be a mixture of several species all clustered around, listening closely as Jarin spoke to them about his latest adventures.

“How didja know where to go if da Weequay lied to you?”

“Well, Elliana, Master Aren had known about the Combine before we arrived on the planet, so he had an idea of where we might find the leaders. So we flew to sector delta-five in the ship and saw the speeders all around the skyscraper. They criminals thought they had gotten away clean, so there weren’t any security measures in place. It took a little bit of doing, but we got the datapads back and the Republic intelligence cracked the encryption.”

“You was lucky!”

“Not luck... it was the Force.”

The Younglings nodded seriously before scrambling away to the sound of the meal chime. Jarin stood and grinned, walking over to where his master sat on a low bench. “What is your question, my young apprentice?”

“What about chance, Meklur?”

The elder Jedi shifted slightly into a more comfortable position. “If you ask whether I believe in it, or whether it happens, I do not know. There have been many times where I have looked back and seen that events would have occurred quite differently if a certain thing had gone astray. At the time it happened, I was not aware of the guidance or action of the Force. When something seems like an extraordinary coincidence or a great stroke of luck, we must remember that the Force is everywhere. Some Jedi believe that the Force predetermines everything, other believe that it is simply aware of all things. This question of chance and free will has been endlessly debated, and never resolved. But fundamentally, things ultimately turn out as they do. Why? No one knows.”

***

It seemed like hours passed before Jarin’s weary body ordered him to rest. He entered a nearby cantina and slid into an empty, isolated seat. Emotions and impulses assaulted him from all sides, chewing at the edges of his mind. Jarin felt an unfamiliar temptation, an urge to give up. An almost audible voice spoke into his ear, telling him to hang up his lightsaber, to forsake the name of Jedi, to blend in with the rest of the galaxy and live his life under the new Empire.

Jarin’s resolve, however, would hear none of it. He knew that attempting to contact the others would be far too dangerous at the moment. What he needed was a way off the planet to Malachore.
Madness, I tell you. We need more pirates.
26

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Captain Hector
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Post by Captain Hector » Sun Oct 09, 2005 5:49 pm

ooc: im not sure where Reysha is at the moment...otherwise id post. Time to do some readin' and not writin' literature essays....
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Post by Scottish Ninja » Mon Oct 10, 2005 12:15 pm

OOC: Damn English essays...

IC: Goral ducked, and tripped, falling to the floor as a result of trying to protect himself from a shower of falling debris.

"I'm okay," he declared, as he got up and brushed himself off, "I thought it was going to be a bit more serious than that.

"What is this stuff?" Litan asked, picking up a chunk of white... stuff. "Is this flooring? Must be something going on up there."

"I doubt it's good. How much farther?" Goral inquired.

"There's an access ladder that goes to the street just ahead. I've used it to slip out of here without anyone noticing a few times before," Ana replied.

"Great. How long is it?"

"Not too long. About a dozen meters or so."

"Oh joy. A dozen meters. I guess I can... work with that..." Goral complained, looking up the narrow shaft.

His hands did hurt by the time he got out, much preferring unlit stairs in a well by the street to ladders, until things sloshed onto them from the traffic above. They smelled wonderful by the time people could see them.

"...Right. Now where do we go?"

"Well, this mission's gone down the hole. I suppose the only thing we can do is head back to the ship and wait for anyone else who makes it out. Plus, if I can find a good, clean cantina somewhere, then I can get something to drink," Goral said.

A long time passed, this being Nar Shaddaa, of course, but Goral found his clean cantina at last, and got a drink at the bar. Something caught his eye.

"Oy," he whispered, "Doesn't that guy over there look like one of those Jedi we had hanging around? Jar Jar or something like that?"
That's no tank!
"t all has to show impeccable logic and unflawed realism, even if it deals with a different galaxy and an era 3,000 years in the past or the future." - George Lucas

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Post by UnknownSector » Mon Oct 17, 2005 11:58 am

ooc: You so did not just compare me to Jar-Jar.
ic:

Jarin was not exactly what the barkeeper would consider a model patron. He’d asked for water, not once, but twice, without ordering anything else. Management wouldn’t appreciate this if they saw it, much less if it was tolerated. The beefy man was just about to approach the grey-clad offworlder when another group walked in and stopped at the bar. By the time he had finished filling the order, Jarin was gone.

The Padawan had retreated inside his own mind, his consciousness all but non-existent, wrapped up in the confusion and turmoil that had shrouded him like a heavy mist. He left by the back entrance, stepping into a stinking alleyway lined with refuse, industrial waste, and the occasional panhandler or streetdweller. It was as though Jarin was watching himself from a remote vantage point, disinterestedly observing his silhouette walking through the byways of Nar Shaddaa.

Of course, in this sort of gritty urban microcosm, there are always other eyes watching as well. The owners of those eyes were not long in making an appearance, as Jarin found himself faced down by a pair of lithe figures, while three more slunk out of the shadows behind. Oddly enough, all five were human, and were also armed to the teeth with heavy blasters.

“Credits. Now.”

Jarin made no sudden moves, simply walking forward as if the five were a substance-induced mirage. The Padawan got within arm’s reach of one of the men before anything happened. A faint wheeze came from the gangster’s mouth as he slammed the butt of his carbine into Jarin’s shoulder, knocking him to the street.

Sometimes there’s nothing like a bit of good old-fashioned violence to snap a catatonic Jedi out of his stupor.

A wave of Force power swept out, slamming two of the gang back against the walls. Jarin's fist shot out and smashed the jaw of another as his saber’s emerald glow cast an eerie light through the alley. All told, the battle took somewhat under a minute before the final would-be thief was pelting away as fast as he could. Jarin scooped up one of the fallen carbines and calmly shot the man in the back. Donning his cloak once again, he concealed his saber and attached two holstered pistols on his belt. The carbine he slung on his back, and left the rest of the debris to be picked over by the hordes of homeless scavengers.

Jarin strode off into the night, walking for at least three hours before he found a suitable crevice to spend the night in. He recalled what little he had heard of the assignment Lits had been given. Of course, the rest of the team is probably dead or captured. I’ve got nothing better to do… let’s see what will happen. The Padawan had only two words to go on.

Malachore.

Warhammer.


Next morning, a bleary sun tried its best to shine down through the smog that covered the city. Jarin managed to catch a transport to a more upscale sector and stopped at an information kiosk. Poking through the directories, he found directions to a local library, which seemed as good a place as any to start his search. He knew that an information vendor would be the best source, but as a rogue Jedi fleeing all semblances of government and society, the last person Jarin wanted to contact was a man who sold everything he saw, heard, smelled, or touched.

Secreting himself in a small corner, Jarin opened up the archives and began searching for information. Malachore, or Malachore V, was a small moon that had apparently been destroyed in a historical conflict during a Sith war. Very little importance was attached to the planet. For an obscure location, it had a great amount of legend surrounding the small bits of actual information, all of which seemed more or less mythological or conjectural in origin. Warhammer had even poorer results. There were at least nine hundred ships and organizations, both military and civilian, associated with some form of the name. Nothing linked it with Malachore, however. The only hard data Jarin found were the coordinates of the destroyed planet.

The Padawan stretched wearily and decided that the only option at this point was to head to the Outer Rim.
Madness, I tell you. We need more pirates.
26

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