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File: SWI - EP. 2 Title Image.png (1.12 MB, 1043x852)
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https://starwarsintrocreator.kassellabs.io/#!/BLzG6Hz0ghlFCzyxOvSJ

STAR WARS
INTERREGNUM - EPISODE II
THE CALL OF JOMBARAL


It is a dark time. After four thousand years, the Sith have achieved their greatest victory through DARTH SIDIOUS, regent of the First Galactic Empire. Under his purview, the Jedi have been all but driven into extinction, and branded traitorous renegades by the wider galaxy.

Unbeknownst to him, survivors of the Jedi Order have fled into the UNKNOWN REGIONS. There, Master BRETHON LARID oversees the next generation of Jedi from the former slave-world of Mylar-3, until a more permanent and obscure sanctuary can be found.

His apprentice, FARREN GAELLE, has embarked on the final trial that would make him a Jedi Knight. Journeying to the war-torn jungles of Kakarit, he hopes to find Master UYER KOSA, her Padawan AROTTA BASHUR, and bring them into the fold of the last Jedi...

=====================

>>RECAP of the last thread:

Having journeyed to the war-torn jungle planet of Kakarit to rescue two Jedi, Farren Galle and the crew of the Albatross discovered that the struggle had yet to end. The planet had been quarantined by the Galactic Empire, and upon its surface fights a straggling company of Clones against the remnant of a Separatist legion.

However, their welcome was quickly short-lived. The Clones were soon revealed to have been subverted by the insidious JOMBARAL, an ancient Force Entity that would consider herself the Mother of All Things and bring all organic life on the planet into her fold.

Rescued by the natives and spirited away to an underground location, Farren and the crew of the Albatross must work hand-in-hand with former enemies and unexpected allies. But time is running short. The Empire is aware of the threat, and Jombaral's forces consolidate their efforts to bring all to the Mother...

Previous Thread: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/4041688/
Archive: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Star%20Wars%20Interregnum
Character Pastebin: https://pastebin.com/u/TaskForceKaz
Twitter: https://twitter.com/TaskForceKaz
>>
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==========

>>Farren Gaelle
>Brawn: 2
>Finesse: 3
>Intellect: 2
>Cunning: 2
>Resolve: 3
>Panache: 2

>>Skills:
>Astronavigation 1 (Intellect) – a measure of knowledge about the galaxy’s stellar composition, allowing for the correct plotting of routes and hyperspace jumps.
>Cool 1 (Panache) – a measure of a character’s ability to remain calm under danger. Rolled to resist Charm and Negotiation.
>Coordination 1 (Finesse) – a measure of a character’s nimbleness and flexibility.
>Deception 1 (Cunning) – judges the character’s ability to trick others into believing falsehoods.
>Lore 2 (Intellect) – how much the character knows of the ancient galaxy and its history.
>Mechanics 1 (Intellect) – skill and prowess in working on all things from weapons to droids and ships.
>Melee 2 (Brawn) – a character’s proficiency with melee weapons such as knives and swords.
>Perception 2 (Cunning) – a skill used to notice clues, perceive hidden dangers, and all manner of hidden objects or persons.
>Piloting [Space] 1 (Agility) – the ability to pilot starships and other stellar vessels.
>Sith 1 (Intellect) – a measure of a character’s knowledge regarding the Sith and Dark Side of the Force.
>Stealth 1 (Agility) – a measure of how easily a character can hide or appear inconspicuous.
>Vigilance1 (Resolve) – represents a character’s ability to take notice and react to events happening in their surroundings/peripheral vision.

>>Traits:
>Jedi Shadow [Add +2 to checks made for Deception, Perception, Stealth and Vigilance]
>Makashi Expert [Roll 3d6 when using Form II/Makashi]
>Indistinguishable [You are but a face in the crowd, and add 1d6 to Stealth rolls]

>>Lightsaber Rating: 3
>>Weapons: One yellow-gold, single-blade lightsaber
>>Lightsaber Forms:
>Form II, Makashi [Finesse]
>Form VI, Niman [Finesse+Cunning]

>>Force Rating: 1 (1d10+Resolve)
>>Force Affinity: Alter (+5)
>>Force Powers:
>Force Fire 2 (Alter) – a pyrokinetic ability that allows the practitioner to manipulate and conjure flames with the Force. Especially deadly against the Children of Jombaral.
>Force Pull/Push 1 (Alter) – The iconic telekinesis of every Jedi, determines lifting limit and push power.
>Force Speed 1 (Alter) – The universe seems to slow around you, and you are react faster as a result of it.
>Force Weapon 1 (Alter) – You imbue a weapon with the Force, increasing its durability and damage. At third rank, you can imbue your lightsaber. At fifth rank...?
>Sever Force 2 (Alter) – A rare and seldom-taught and used technique by the Jedi of the Old Republic that strips one’s connection with the Force. Leveling this increases duration and potency. At third rank...?

==========
>>
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=====

>>Misc. Inventory:
>Golden Lightsaber Crystal – one of two lightsaber crystals you had taken from the caves of Illum when you were a Youngling. The lightsaber it had been embedded in had been destroyed by the Herald of Jombaral.
>Holocron of the Betrayer – a Jedi Holocron containing the persona of Kreia, an enigmatic Jedi from the time of Revan.
>Liar’s Blade – the spearhead carried into battle by the Liar Chieftain against the Herald of Jombaral thousands of years ago. Use it against the Herald to release the souls it devoured.
>Mandalorian Blaster – a Mandalorian pistol given to you by Nomiana Whrul after a passionate evening on Mylar-3, in the hopes of keeping you alive in the Unknown Regions.

=====
>>
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>19 BBY
>Settlement of Nest’s End, the World Beneath, Kakarit

>2 Days Remain...

“Glad to see you haven’t kicked it boss,” Suzel exhales in obvious relief. The Nagai certainly looks disheveled and no small amount of stressed, but he perks up at the sight of your return. “But next time, can you leave the only translator with us? The Clones were able to speak Shyriiwook well enough, but it was a bloody awful nightmare trying to play charades with Elba.”

The only response Elba has to offer is an enigmatic shrug that neither confirms nor denies the Nagai’s protests.

“Fair enough...” But there’s still a certain matter that needs to be discussed. “You didn’t tell them I was a Jedi, did you?”

The wookie shakes his head. “Wrrraah...”

“What he said,” echoes your copilot, “I didn’t tell them anything. I just said that you were with the Republic, and that we came in response to the distress call.” He pauses, adopting a thinker’s pose. “...I’m not quite sure they bought it, but they weren’t about to complain since we had a ride out of the Desolation.”

And to think that they did it without you telling them to! Well done. Or perhaps they’d picked up on your absolute need for cloak-and-dagger and applied it as best they could. Regardless, your ‘secret’ is safe, for the most part. Although, is it still a secret when the Kakari and Separatist Remnant know you're a Jedi?

Curiosity suddenly overtakes your own paranoia. To the pair, you inquire: “What was it like? The Desolation where you found the clones. I heard from Bos and Troxl that it was some sort of swamp.”

Elba sneezes, and Suzel trembles as if someone had walked on his grave. “...very unpleasant. Not the kind of thing I expected when my parents sent me out with you. You know, the old bosses back on Mylar-3 never let us swim. Wasn’t nearly enough water to go around, and I thought that this forest planet would be a great place to try it...”

He shivers, “Please make the next planet we go to as dry as possible, with as little humidity in the air, if you please. If we’re going to wade, I want to be able to see my calves and not jump at every little object that slithers or kriffing grabs at my legs...I don’t want to get into a pool deeper than a few inches for the next few adventures, boss.”

...you don't make any promises, but express your sympathy as best you can.

>>Line Break

One of the Kakari is kind enough to guide you to the mustering ground of the Clone Troopers. Just beyond the walls of the settlement, they’d set up a camp and makeshift F.O.B. with what little they had with them. Several go about their business, cleaning weapons and equipment, scrolling through datapads and talking in low, subdued voices.

(cont.)
>>
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It’s...not easy looking at the white armor. While you aren’t nearly as uncomfortable as Torok might have been, it’s still hard to think that they were responsible for carrying out the order that wiped out nearly all of your extended family. No mercy, no hesitation...the generals and warriors they’d fought alongside with for the better part of three years were cut down without any fanfare or warning.

At least, with Acting-Commander Marcs, he’d been brainwashed by a Force Entity. These Clones, however...their loyalty remains suspect at best, even if they had been abandoned to die in the quarantine by their fleet.

As you near the camp, your Kakari escort bows politely and leaves you to your business. The Clones stop their activities, setting down accouterments and blasters to stare at you, measuring, judging, evaluating...

“It’s rude to stare, boys.” One of the Clones stands up, brushing the dirt and dust off his Phase II trooper armor. “Thought the Cloners would’ve taught you better manners than that.”

A long, jagged scar runs down the side of his right eye, a mark that not even years in a bacta tank would be able to heal. The iris itself is cloudy, paler than its leftmost counterpart. A veritable maze of scar tissue and lines are scrawled all over his face, from the thick of combat and what might appear to be the stress of leadership.

Obviously, this is their leader. There isn’t any mistaking the deference in the rest of their posture. “Sorry about that. It’s been a hard couple of months since we were stuck here...friendly faces are a sight for sore eyes.”

“I can imagine,” you answer neutrally, offering a tentative hand. “You might have already been told, but my name is Ren. I’m the captain of the ship that my crew flew into the Desolation.”

The Clone nods, snapping to attention with a crisp salute. “Commander Skipp, 57th Elite Corps of the Grand Army of the Republic...or at least, what’s left of the corps, at any rate. The boys and I can’t thank you enough for coming to our rescue.”

>>How will you respond?
>Maintain the cover of a freebooting mercenary/explorer. [Lie]
>Tell him you’re a Jedi, and express your sympathies about being used by the Sith. [Diplomacy]
>Tell him you’re a Jedi, but make it clear that at the first sign of trouble... [Threaten]
>Custom option. [Write-in.]

VOTE OPEN FOR TWO HOURS
>>
>>4237272
>Maintain the cover of a freebooting mercenary/explorer. [Lie]


>It's finally back!!
>>
>>4237282
Ditto
Been waiting for this to come bak
>>
>>4237272
>Tell him you’re a Jedi, and express your sympathies about being used by the Sith. [Diplomacy]
>>
>>4237272
>Maintain the cover of a freebooting mercenary/explorer. [Lie]
>>
>>4237272
>Maintain the cover of a freebooting mercenary/explorer. [Lie]
>>
>>4237272
Wait, wouldn't our lie unravel the moment we rescue the other Jedi?
>Tell him you’re a Jedi, and express your sympathies about being used by the Sith. [Diplomacy]
>>
>>4237272
>Tell him you’re a Jedi, and express your sympathies about being used by the Sith. [Diplomacy]
>>
>>4237272
>>Tell him you’re a Jedi, and express your sympathies about being used by the Sith. [Diplomacy]
>>
>>4237272
>Tell him you’re a Jedi, and express your sympathies about being used by the Sith. [Diplomacy]
>>
>>4237272
>Tell him you’re a Jedi, and express your sympathies about being used by the Sith. [Diplomacy]
Best to get this over with now. Also, AAAAAAAAAAAAAA IT'S BACK
>>
>>4237272
>>Tell him you’re a Jedi, and express your sympathies about being used by the Sith. [Diplomacy]
ITS BAAAAACK
>>
>>4237272
>>Tell him you’re a Jedi, and express your sympathies about being used by the Sith. [Diplomacy]
>>
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>>4237282
>>4237294
>>4237297
>>4237298
>>4237299
>>4237314
>>4237317
>>4237319
>>4237330
>>4237336
>>4237342
>>4237360

...it’s time to put all the cards on the table. You already did that for the Kakari and the Separatists. May as well go all in and add the clones into the mix. Besides...when you go to rescue Arotta and Master Kosa, wouldn’t that raise more questions than necessary? Sure, maybe you could wiggle around it...

“...but that’d be too much trouble,” you vocalize.

Skipp frowns, lowering his hand. “Sir?”

There’s no easy way to go about this...

You reach out with the Force, and pull your lightsaber from your boot and into your good hand. Skipp’s eyes widen in surprise, and his hands instinctively go for the sidearm at his hip. You don’t ignite the weapon, merely holding it up for the commander to see. Behind him, you notice the troopers stiffen, and you have only seconds to make your case:

“I’m a Jedi, Commander. Same as General Uyer Kosa and Padawan Arotta Bashur. I came to rescue them, but...the circumstances have changed. I need your help if we all want to get off this planet alive. It’s not just the trees that want us dead; the Empire’s coming back, and I don’t doubt that they’ll perform a Base Delta Zero to make sure the quarantine’s enforced.

“...from one person used by the Sith to another...” You sheath your lightsaber to its proper place, open and undisguised upon your belt. “I want to work with you, Commander. So that we can get to the bottom of this entire...mess."

Skipp’s jaw works, tensing and loosening as he tries to find the words he wants to say. Behind him, his soldiers try to pretend they aren’t eavesdropping. But they haven’t reached for weapons yet...as good a sign as any.

Eventually, the commander releases a heavy breath. “...how much do you know about me?”

“Enough that you’ve got significantly autonomy than the normal clone trooper,” you answer, “Acting-Commander Marcs had nothing but good things to say about your service record.”

His gaze hardens, and a snarl of emotion enters his voice: “Marcs...then, I take it-?”

“He died as himself, with all the dignity as a loyal soldier of the Republic.”

“...hmph. That’s all I could ask for.” He takes a moment of silence, one you observe with him before he continues, “...but you have the gist of it. Long story short, Cloners made me and ninety-nine other troopers to be a bit more independent than the others. When we get off this hellhole, I’ll tell you more about it.”

“When”, not “if”. His morale is certainly infectious. The tension in the air bleeds out somewhat, and his men visibly relax. You’re in a far more comfortable position that you had been earlier...but you still need at least one answer.

Clearing your throat, you ask, “What can you tell me about Order 66?”

“Where’d you hear that from?” he counters, surprised.

(cont.)
>>
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“I pulled some of the logs off the F.O.B. before we had to make a hot escape. A man in black had instructed Marcs to execute it. He wasn’t able to for two reasons: he believed he was the Mother’s child, no longer a soldier of the Republic...”

You pause, taking a moment to bitterly finish, “...and there weren’t any Jedi in the immediate area. Skipp...I have to know.”

A complicated expression breaks out across his features. There’s discomfort, certainly, as well as a certainly large portion of apprehension. But he cooperates, standing straight and clearing his throat:

“In the event of Jedi officers acting against the interest of the Republic, and after receiving specific orders verified as coming directly from the Supreme Commander, the Chancellor, G.A.R. commanders will remove those officers by lethal force, and command of the GAR will revert to the Supreme Commander (Chancellor) until a new command structure is established.”

The mere implications of the Order are nearly enough to bring you to your knees. The man in black...no, it couldn’t have been the Supreme Chancellor. You’ve never met the man, but Sheev Palpatine is nowhere near as wrinkled or hideously deformed as the figure that had demanded the order and shied away from Jombaral.

A...an imposter, perhaps? Or a figure manipulating the Chancellor from behind the shadows...the Sith must have subverted the office, fed lies and manipulated him into shaping the Republic into an Empire...but that still doesn’t explain why such an order was included by the Kaminoans in the Clone Army...

...but those are questions for another day, in another place where you aren’t in immediate danger of being subsumed into a collective or glassed from orbit. Still, considering where you intend to go after you get off the planet, returning to Mylar-3 with the rest of the Jedi...

Slowly, you say, “...and if you were to receive the Order again?”

His answer comes swifttly, and laced with disgust, “Pardon the profanity, but fuck no, sir. I’ve served the Jedi since Day One of this bloody war. I’ve had a few bad commanders and sanctimonious incompetents, but high treason against the Republic? You’d have better odds of convincing me that banthas can fly.”

>Skipp is telling the truth.

You let out a breath you didn’t even know you were holding, but quickly covered it up with a hasty cough. “That’s nice to hear...and the rest of your men-?”

“They’ll listen to me,” he insists, “They owe me that much after I saved all from the trees. They’re...newer and less independent than I am. But I don’t think they’re too fond of serving a political power that condemned them to a fate worse than death.”

Skipp salutes again, heels clacking together. “My loyalty is to the Republic, and as of a year ago, General Uyer Kosa. But for the time being, we’re more than willing to serve once more with a Jedi. We await your orders, General Ren.”

(cont.)
>>
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It’s a hard thing to squash the excitement bubbling up within you, but you manage to do it. Returning his salute with a nod of your own, you gently correct, “I never made general. I’ll answer to either ‘Jedi’, or ‘Ren’ or ‘Gaelle’ easily enough.”

“Very good, sir.”

...that’ll work, too.

Most of the Clones are certainly more prosaic than their commander. Trykov had been a supply officer prior to the disaster. Beyond an affinity for explosives, ordinance specialist Cooper had a talent for making field rations taste somewhat palatable. Field medic Oann had been one tour away from retirement.

Of course, there are a few that stand out and catch your attention. The stiff and stern Roppock is a rookie fresh out of the cloners’ tanks. AT-RT driver Evo could seldom be seen a few meters beyond the vehicle that aided his escape from the infected. And Stye is counted among the rare and much vaunted Blaze troopers.

When asked about how they all joined up, Oann laughed bitterly, “It wasn’t easy. We all thought the other was infected at one point or another. And since the thing that got the rest of our brothers could get inside our heads...”

“Turns out there’s an easy enough trick,” grunts Stye, “...the seeds start doing weird things to your innards as it turns you into a plant. Turns all your bodily fluids slowly green as chlorophyll gets in your system, but it’s more easily found in...ahem excrement and vomit.”

“Oy, Roppock!” the cheerful Evo ribs his younger squadmate, “What was the rhyme we had going, again?”

“This is beneath our dignity as Clone troopers,” the rookie snaps.

“‘If your shit is green and you don’t bleed red, then stay right there, because you’re worse than dead,’” dryly answers Cooper as he doles out reheated rations. At your own offered plate, the explosive specialist smiles. “Don’t worry, Jedi. They’re safe to eat.”

“You had a few tons of prepackaged rations in your cargo hold,” Trykov observes clinically, “...I hope you don’t mind. Your crewmates were very generous with sharing.”

>>The survivors of the 57th Elite, Scrapper Squad, are at your command!

One quick breakfast later finds you plodding your way towards the Hearth-Hall of Nest’s End, in order to inform the authorities of your plan for the day. Already, you’d committed yourself to first rescuing Arotta, venturing into the Heart of Kakarit. You don’t quite know what or where that is, beyond the fact that it is on the surface, but perhaps the natives might know what it meant.

The light of the great sunstone glows a warm and soft orange as it simulates sunlight as best it can. The denizens of Nest’s End begin their day, throwing out chamber pots and opening their stores, purchasing commodities and hawking their wares. They seem to be used to your presence, no longer staring or otherwise pointing you out.

(cont.)
>>
They carry on in spite of the fact that in two days, they might not be on the planet any more, with all the haste and diligence as if they had not been in hiding for several thousand years. You’re more than certain that Octavia’s core ship can handle the entire population...there could hardly be more than a few thousand, especially with all the empty droid racks.

As you continue your course, the buildings steadily got larger and grander, transitioning from single-floor units to proper multi-story complexes. It was a trick commonly seen in more primitive societies – simply pile earth and rubble over collapsed structures and build atop them rather than clear them away. But the view afforded still increased the property’s value accordingly.

By the time you’re mostly the way up the artificial hill, you’re able to look over several of the buildings’ rooftops and see the rest of the city, picking out a few other such mottes as well as landmarks the likes of Bos’ little island and the Ancestor Pillars.

At the top of the hill, the true center of Nest’s End, stands a building that would have put the Opulent Palace on Mylar-3 to shame. Granted, the pre-industrial conditions of the Kakarit would have limited their access to metallic materials, but the fortress of the Chieftain-King had no need of such things. The fortress was not hewn from solid rock as much as it was shaped by molten lava.

“Bos is holding out on me,” you murmur as you inspect the walls, tapping one of them with a wayward finger. It’s not a compound you’re familiar with, and it certainly looks hard enough to withstand the worst of what a Tall Walker could lob into it. “Molding magma with the Force sounds like a useful skill...”

The guards allow you entrance, withdrawing their spears to let you through the curtain. What greets you is a rustic, but well-furnished great hall. Prince Troxl, the Kakari who had rescued you, stands before a table and discussing something with other Kakari distinguished by great ornamental beads and jewelry. War-summons, perhaps? Or perhaps the day-to-day beurocracy of running Nest’s End?

The prince notices you, and bids you welcome. “Ancestor’s blessings upon you, Farren.”

“And to you as well,” you return with a bow, “Where is your father?”

He sniffs, “Trax-Chief is purging tunnels, raiding and cleaning before roots can settle. Will not be back before dawn’s light on next day.”

...hopefully Bos had told either Trax or Troxl about your plan to evacuate the Kakari. The Firmament just might hold up against the forces of Jombaral, but there are few things in the galaxy that can withstand a saturated, concentrated series of turbo-laser volleys from orbit.

The prince interjects, “Sit, eat! Will have cooks fetch supplies-”

“Your hospitality is appreciated, but I already ate. I came to inform you about my actions for the day...”

>>You explained your course of action to Troxl.

(cont.)
>>
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“I see, I see...” he murmurs, stroking the scales beneath his chin with a thoughtful talon, “...you will need tunnel-riders!”

It isn’t hard to deduce with what he might mean. A farmer had transported you towards the Separatist lines through a tunnel via craft pulled by some reptilian beast of burden. It hadn’t been the fastest, but it had certainly drawn far less attention that if you had taken the Albatross through the secret temple entrance.

“Heart of Jungle...” the prince gestures, and a servant retrieves a map from a nearby table. Delicately inked on fine vellum and protected by the scaly hide of a blue creature, Troxl traces a path along the labyrinthian scrawls that the tunnels take. “...sacred clutch-temple of Kakarit before False Mother attacked. Nothing there but broken eggs, painful memories of the clutch. Your friend...”

‘Friend’ would be stretching it considering your own uncertain relationship with her, but you nod, “Yes. My friend was reportedly going into the Heart.”

Troxl’s nostrils flare. “Perilous journey awaits you...even in tunnels, wilder areas where False Mother’s influence can whisper...brave you are, Farren. Few venture even to the border. Even fewer return once crossing threshold.”

If he’s trying to scare you...it’s working. And even in spite of the painkiller you took, the phantom sensation of your arm being crushed by the Herald still courses along your arm. Granted, you now have a weapon that could kill the abomination for good this time.

“...somebody has to do it,” you answer in a determined voice, “I won’t be a Jedi otherwise.”

The prince nods, lips parting in what might be an admirable smile. “Tunnel-riders, I will have within the hour. And wherever, use your Shamanka flame to burn roots leading back home. How many you need?”

>>Suzel and Elbawaraak will not be available for this mission, as they will be repairing the ship for minor damage sustained on the mission to rescue the Clones.

>>However, the following squad members are available to you:
>Commander Skipp, Clone ARC-Trooper, tactical specialist.
>Stye, Blaze Trooper, heavy shock trooper, flamethrower specialist.
>Cooper, Ordinance specialist, explosive weapons and munitions expert.
>Oann, Field Medic, veteran survivalist expert and medical support.

>>Who is coming with you? [Max of two]
>No-one. This is a task that a Jedi must accomplish by himself. [Alone] [High Danger, greater reward yield.]
>One other person, to watch your back and cover your injury. [Write-in.] [Average Danger, average reward yield.]
>Two people, to fill out a small fireteam for an easier foray. [Write-in.] [Low Danger, lesser reward yield.]

>>[TUTORIAL]: Similar to facing down the Tof Purebreed, overcoming obstacles with disadvantages (i.e., your broken arm) will yield greater rewards in the form of bonus traits/perks, skills and/or unique items.

[VOTE OPEN FOR SIX HOURS
>>
>>4237507
>>No-one. This is a task that a Jedi must accomplish by himself. [Alone] [High Danger, greater reward yield.]
>>
>>4237507
>Oann, Field Medic, veteran survivalist expert and medical support.
>One other person, to watch your back and cover your injury. [Write-in.]
>>
>>4237192
Oh shit, welcome back dude.
>>
>>4237507
>>No-one. This is a task that a Jedi must accomplish by himself. [Alone] [High Danger, greater reward yield.]

I thought the curse took you!
>>
>>4237507
>One other person, to watch your back and cover your injury. [Write-in.] [Average Danger, average reward yield.]
>Stye, Blaze Trooper, heavy shock trooper, flamethrower specialist.
more FIREpower will be good here

glad you're back man
>>
>>4237517
Ditto
Let’s DO THIS, VODE AN
we’re gonna die aren’t we
>>
>>4237507
>No-one. This is a task that a Jedi must accomplish by himself. [Alone] [High Danger, greater reward yield.]
>>
>>4237507
>>No-one. This is a task that a Jedi must accomplish by himself. [Alone] [High Danger, greater reward yield.]

This is our trial. We must do it alone.
>>
>>4237507
>>No-one. This is a task that a Jedi must accomplish by himself. [Alone] [High Danger, greater reward yield.]
I was a glutton for punishment in the last threads, I'm a glutton for punishment now.
>>
>>4237507
>>One other person, to watch your back and cover your injury. [Write-in.] [Average Danger, average reward yield.]
>>Stye, Blaze Trooper, heavy shock trooper, flamethrower specialist.
Let's at least bring the Blaze Trooper, please.
>>
>>4237779
The window's been closed for a while.
>>
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>>4237517
>>4237518
>>4237526
>>4237541
>>4237552
>>4237650
>>4237710
>>4237747
>>4237779
Troxly’s nostrils flare in surprise. “Just one? Your arm-”

“Courtesy of the Herald,” you finish for him, but you refuse to budge, “And a reminder of what’s gonna happen if I screw up. I know that it’ll be easier if I had the Clone troopers or even one of your own...but this is something I need to do by myself.”

His eyes narrow. “Shamanka thing?”

“...yeah. Shamanka, thing. Rite of passage, really.”

“Pah!” he exclaims, shaking his head, “Trax-Chief say often that there is very fine line between stupid and brave. But shamanka have resistance against the False Mother’s call...others more easily subverted.”

Well, there is that, too.

“So be it!” Troxl claps his hands together. “Arrangements will be made. Servant will bring you to tunnel-rider clutch. A fast mount you will need to traverse the tunnels.”

You bow. “Thank you. And, did Bos happen to tell you about the offer I obtained from the Separatists?” AT his confused look, you hurriedly explain, “Erm...the leaders of Metal without Song.”

His advisors look to the prince curiously, but he catches your meaning. “Yes...yes, will need to bring to Trax-Chieftan! Discuss merits of the metal egg escape, as soon as he returns from the raids...”

At least that’s one thing off your chest. When the deal falls through, hopefully Octavia will have made the preparations for a hasty dust-off once you’ve finished your business here...

>>Later

At the very least, with the cart you’d taken to the Separatist lines, you had some modicum of comfort even as Ixanot had been driving the cart at breakneck speed with his team of snizitrix. Here, you have no such comfort. Brave as he had been, the Bronka-rider had all but swore on the bones of his ancestors that he would not drive his beast or himself within five kilometers of the Heart of the Jungle.

You aren’t entirely unsympathetic, even assuring him that he would only be providing a mount, not a ride and escort. But Prince Troxl’s orders were considered to be given with the authority of his father. A fast mount is needed, one quick enough to traverse the distance between Nest’s End and the Heart of the Jungle within a handful of hours, and smart enough to wait for your return from the temple.

Eventually, he had caved in, motioning for you to stay put as he retreated into his stables. “...take this one, Jedi. The prince asked for a smart mount? I will give you a smart mount. She is very smart, but sometimes too smart for her own good...”

He hadn’t been wrong. At first glance, the bronka he’d brought out appeared to be no different than any other of the beasts that you’d seen the Kakari ride into war. The only difference is a less prominent forehead plate, and less teeth than her male counterpart. But it only took you ten seconds of getting in the saddle to realize what Ixanot had meant.

(cont.)
>>
>>4239099
Welcome back, OP.

PS: You forgot to add Force Entities 1 to the skill list...
>>
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>>4239104
>>
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>>4239099
Brighthorn is certainly the smartest of her kind, easily responding to the commands and orders that Ixanot had issued. The problem is, that only by a few scales and lack of cold blood, you aren’t Ixanot. And Force you, she bloody damn well knows it.

The instant you’d settled comfortably into the saddle and stirrups, the Force barely gave you a moment’s notice as a palpable excitement flared within the beast. The bronka all but twitched, before surging out from the stables, leaping over the gate and running circles around the makeshift ranch.

“When was the last time you took her out?!” you scream as you try to hold on for dear life.

The fact that he has to think about the answer doesn’t comfort you in the lightest. “Five cycles ago!”

“Switch! I demand a switch!”

“She’s the fastest for a reason, Jedi!”

...at the very least, you aren’t going to be smelling of mushrooms.

It takes about thirty minutes into your journey through the tunnels before your vision can begin to comfortably see in the dark. Brighthorn, lacking no such impairment to her eyes, is able to navigate the tunnels at breakneck speeds, even faster than Ixanot with his cart and team. At the most, you trust your rambunctious mount with the ability to not crash into any sort of obstacle, but damn her if she isn’t making this an easy ride!

Clenched tight in the sling of your broken arm, you occasionally check a dim holograph of the map that Troxl had on his war table, cross-referencing topographic data obtained from the Albatross. The tunnels have little in the way of rhyme or reason, deliberately obfuscating any straightforward way back to Nest’s End. A man could easily loose himself within the twisting turns, unexpected inclines, and caverns that stretched on for miles on end.

The only direction you provide to your mount a brief flick of the reins, gesturing with your good arm whenever a turn might approach. Although perhaps it’s just you, but Brighthorn seems to take too much delight in dodging at the last possible second...

“Cheeky girl,” you grumble, even as your heart jackhammers after a particularly tight turn, “If not the Herald or any of the local fauna, then you’re going to be the death of me...”

The low, rumbling chuckle she makes in response couldn’t have been a laugh...could it?

“...I’m talking to a reptile that can store upwards of ten gallons in its neck and upper chest cavity.”

It isn’t your lowest point in your life...but it’s certainly down there.

Troxl had warned you though, that the tunnels aren’t entirely uninhabited. Between the roving patrols of Children hoping to find stray Kakari, uninfected predators what he had worryingly referred to as the Twisting Wyrm...you haven't encountered anything hostile. Yet...

But as you approach the outer boundary of the Heart...

>Roll 1d100 Encounter.
>Best out of three.
>>
Rolled 42 (1d100)

>>4239154
>>
Rolled 89 (1d100)

>>4239154
Here goes...
>>
Rolled 15 (1d100)

>>4239154
Lets hope for the best...
>>
Rolled 75 (1d100)

>>4239154
>>
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>>4239158
>>4239160
>>4239162

You smell it before you can even see it, a putrid stench of rotting meat and offal. Brighthorn is similarly affected, snorting and tapping the ground in disgust as you approach the final turn, and the bright light that emanates from it. For the first time in your journey, she responds quickly to your command to stop, coming to a complete halt a dozen meters away from the tunnel.

Dismounting, you gesture for her to remain behind, pulling your lightsaber to your hands as you advance towards the mouth of the tunnel, and take a careful look inside.

The cavern is only slightly smaller than the Senate Rotunda, and completely covered in geode crystals. Multi-colored formations the likes of amethyst and jasper, chalcedony and agate, and several other quartz-like growths. From some unseen crack in the ceiling, a beam of light shines through, filling the cavern with a near-blinding brilliance as light refracts off a crystal atop a stalagmite.

A sunstone, perhaps?

But the source of the smell reveals itself soon enough, a growling, snarling beast that stumbles into view from another tunnel opposite your own. The beast heaves with exertion as it drags a corpse behind it, a beast of burden you might have seen in the mushroom fields of the Kakari. It sniffs the air, scratching tusks the size of your arm as it proceeds into the cavern.

...come to think of it, a Rancor would explain not only the bad smell, but the pile of bones you’d only just noticed to where it made its nest. But it isn’t just any Rancor...of all the things you’d expect to find standing in your way to the Heart, a Bull Rancor was certainly not the first thing that came to mind.

The beast itself doesn't appear to be infected. It's movements are too certain to be a slave. But there’s something you notice about the broken tusks as it settles down to eat. You’d understand breaking off a tusk in a struggle against prey, but even that would come away fragmented and horrifically splintered.

The break isn’t clean as much as it’s lacking in any broken edges, almost cauterized from the lack of growth. And the only type of weapon that could have achieved such a wound could only have come from a lightsaber.

Something awful churns in your stomach. “Arotta...”

The lack of any Clone trooper armor or corpses provides little comfort. Perhaps your erstwhile compatriot had fought off the Rancor, and bought time for the clone contingent she took with her to escape into the back tunnels. Certainly, some of the walls look scored and otherwise corroded from blaster fire...

But enough speculation! Master Larid would scold you for taking so long to come to a decision. Steeling your will to act, you decide to...

>>What will you do?
>Engage the Bull Rancor. Better to take it out now so you don’t have to later. [Attack]
>Sneak around the Bull Rancor. You don’t have any time to waste with this creature. [Stealth]

[VOTE OPEN FOR TWO HOURS.]
>>
>>4239162
>>4239163
>06:26:43
>06:26:42
What Sith fuckery is this?
>>
>>4239192
>Sneak around the Bull Rancor. You don’t have any time to waste with this creature. [Stealth]
Nope.
>>
>>4239192
>>Sneak around the Bull Rancor. You don’t have any time to waste with this creature. [Stealth]
We're a Stealth character to begin with, and we have a busted arm, easy decision for me.
>>
>>4239192
>Sneak around the Bull Rancor. You don’t have any time to waste with this creature. [Stealth]
>>
>>4239192
>Sneak around the Bull Rancor. You don’t have any time to waste with this creature. [Stealth]
>>
>>4239192
>Sneak around the Bull Rancor. You don’t have any time to waste with this creature. [Stealth]
It’s times like these I remember the ancient words of my forefathers,
You don’t have to be faster than the bear, you just have to be faster than your friends
>>
>>4239192
>>Sneak around the Bull Rancor. You don’t have any time to waste with this creature. [Stealth]
what are we going to do if we finde arotta infected?
>>
>>4239192
>>Sneak around the Bull Rancor. You don’t have any time to waste with this creature. [Stealth]
>>
>>4239192
>Sneak around the Bull Rancor. You don’t have any time to waste with this creature. [Stealth]
plot twist, the Bull Rancor is the actual secret recruitable party member
>>
>>4239264
>If we had Force Animal Friend we could have gotten a Bull Rancor with an [EASY] skill check
>>
>>4239192
>Sneak around the Bull Rancor. You don’t have any time to waste with this creature. [Stealth]
SNEAKSNEAKSNEAK

>>4239264
Now that would be funny.
>>
>>4239264
Pft no you chump, it's the frog hiding in the pile of bones. A far more sinister opponent.
>>
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>>4239196
>>4239197
>>4239198
>>4239201
>>4239220
>>4239236
>>4239237
>>4239264
>>4239276
“Stay here, alright? Don’t follow me. I’ll be back in a few hours, hopefully with a friend in tow...”

Brighthorn doesn’t seem to be too pleased with the order. Whether or not it’s loyalty to the rider, or apprehension at staying within a hundred meters of a giant Bull Rancor...realistically, it’s probably the latter. But here you are, talking to a quadruped as if you were speaking with a rambunctious Youngling.

“That thing he killed is gonna keep him full for a solid week. He won’t be going hunting again for a long while. And even if he does see you, I know for a fact that you can run circles around him, even if he wasn’t stuffed to the gills with all that food.”

She levels you a look that all but screamed: “Yeah, sure, and I also happen to have a degree in xeno-biology.”

Sighing, you reluctantly say, “...if it gets too dangerous, then you can retreat. But I do expect to find you back here when I return.”

Snorting derisively, the bronka settles down into small little alcove, one that affords her a view of the tunnel and protection from anyone’s sight. The only way one would detect her is by either smell or talent with the Force.

“...see you in a bit.”

Sneaking past the Rancor is a relatively easy affair. The rocks and geode formations are large enough to afford you great cover, even with the light and illumination playing off the crystals. All the Rancor is focused on is the consumption of its prize, slurping down sinew and bone and making a bloody mess of its nest. As far as it appears to be concerned, there are only two things in the beast’s world: its appetite and the prey it devours.

>>You sneak past the Bull Rancor without any trouble, and it remains ignorant of your existence.

Following the map, the tunnel you enter begins to take a gradual incline towards the surface. Troxl said that there’s a sort of boundary, an invisible line that once crossed, would mark your entrance into the Heart of the Jungle. So far, after thirty minutes of brisk jogging through an otherwise bleak and barren tunnel, you have yet to find one-

“...en...”

It came no louder than a whisper, and you could have sworn that you heard something. But the change is so abrupt that it comes nearly as a physical slap to the face. The dusty air of the underground quickly gives way to fresher air, and the tunnel soon fills with the scents and smells of a dense jungle. What starts off as a shy breath of wind quickly turns into a full-fledged draft that seems to breathe air from the exit...

The tunnel itself leads towards a small antechamber, seemingly build around the roots of a great tree. Cold, unyielding stone gives way to life-giving soil as you emerge from the darkness into the dim space of the area.

(cont.)
>>
>>4239287
What a cliffhanger.
>>
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>>4239287
>>4239683
>>
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>>4239287
“How pictorial...” you murmur, eying your surroundings. Kneeling down, you brush the dust off of a spent blaster pack, lifting it carefully with your good hand. Standard G.A.R. issue munitions for a clone weapon. “...they definitely stopped here...”

Any sort of footprints or signs of evidence end here in the little room. You poke around a small earthen pit, sifting through the ashes of a campfire that went out several weeks ago. With a wayward glance in all directions, double-checking to make sure you haven’t missed anything...

You lick your finger, sticking it up in the air to catch the direction of the draft. And sure enough...
...is there even enough room between the roots for you to contort yourself through?

“...ren...”

>>The Heart of Kakarit

It must have been beautiful, once.

Troxl had undersold the description of the Heart. It isn’t just a temple as much as it is a large city, entirely built around a great ziggurat. The height of the temple affords you a view that goes on for miles. A great, dome-like thicket seems to cover the entirety of the Heart in a canopy of inter-woven, thorny tendrils.

“No one gets in...no one gets out...” you murmur.

Much like the planet and her people, the Heart has completely succumbed to the relentless advance of Jombaral. Curtains of thick moss and creeping vine are scrawled along the walls and surfaces, leaving everything tinged with a verdant shade. Tree roots snarl through stone, upending walkways or snaking through whatever gap they could find, uncaring of their blasphemy in their quest for sustenance. But in some cases, the overgrowth appears to support rather than undermine the buildings.

The ziggurat’s spires resemble those of the ones found in Nest’s End, although many have long crumbled into ruin. Those that remained had yellowed over time, and the sandstone resembles old ivory rather than the midnight, volcanic stone of the settlement. Thick vines wind like bandages around the forking spires of a great tower.

The ancient gods of the Kakari stare impassively at your arrival as you brush the dirt from your tunic and swallow another set of painkillers. If the tomb-like structures are anything to go by, then it seems that the tunnel seems to have deposited you in a crypt. How utterly morbid.

Exiting the catacombs and walking into an open-paved courtyard, you conclude that you have never seen a more dismal place. To the east stand four tall, free-standing columns that support nothing. A huge depression in the center of the temple housed a great pool of water. A quick inspection of the ruins reveal that this might have been a well or pool for ritualistic cleansing. Through the thick overhead of the canopy, what brief light shines through affords you a brief glace at your reflection, before giving way to a murky, impenetrable surface.

(cont.)
>>
>>4239803
>10 & 1/2 hours in between updates
I’m glad you’re back man, but dude please
>>
>>4239821
Yeah, sorry. I crashed hard in the middle of typing this last night. EST time sucks.
>>
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>>4239803
For a brief moment, you entertain tossing a stone or a stick to test how deep the water goes, before chastising yourself for a stupid thought. It’s deep enough that you can’t see the bottom, which means that there could be something living inside of it.

“...Ren...”

The Heart is silent. It is a location painfully rich in the Living Force, but there is an eerie lifelessness that encircles the place. Where you might have expected to find birdsong or the insidious chirping of the porgs, there is nothing. It is an empty vacuum of sound where even the lightest footstep appears to be amplified.

Gripping your lightsaber in your good hand, you slowly stalk towards the temple depths. “...you aren’t making this easy for me, blueberry...”

>Roll 2d6+6 Perception [+2 Cunning, +2 Skill, +2 Jedi Shadow]
>Best out of three.
>>
Rolled 5, 4 + 6 = 15 (2d6 + 6)

>>4239836
>>
Rolled 5, 1 + 6 = 12 (2d6 + 6)

>>4239836
>>
Rolled 6, 5 + 6 = 17 (2d6 + 6)

>>4239836
>>
>>4239846
Hory shit.
>>
>>4239846
Noice.
>>
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>>4239846
Nice
Someone please tell me Arotta’s gonna be alright
or at least that she didn’t suffer
>>
>>4239896
She's probably 9/10ths redwood tree Anon. You gotta put the gasoline on her body and toss the lit match. You gotta let her go.
>>
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>>4239839
>>4239840
>>4239846
You never were really good at hide and seek, were you, Arotta? It’s hard to not grin as you pick up a trail. Between the long, heavy strides of clones in full armor, you spot the light, smaller steps of an unarmored person between them. Then again, all we were ever good at was fighting...

Among other things...

The trail that leads from the crypts and the tunnel is old, but you easily deduce where they had gone. Towards the north of the courtyard and the purification pool, only one of the spires appeared to be relatively untouched by vines. It is finely constructed of pure white stone, supported by tall, slender columns. A large pair of double-doors bearing the visage of some lizard god match your impassive gaze.

They had stopped in front of the temple, but hadn’t been able to enter. From the dried blood and half-melted stones beneath your feet, a desperate fight had broken out between the Children and Arotta’s Clones. You spot up more spent ammunition clips, pins for thermal detonators...but no corpses of either side in the conflict.

“...they barely managed to escape...” you murmur to yourself, following the footprints around the spire. A row of ruined columns line a gravel pathway, leading to an overgrown garden. The Kakari statues that once stood atop them lay broken, and in some cases, grotesquely defaced. Everything is old, so old that you think it might make Master Yoda feel young.

Suddenly, you tense. Within the garden itself, you spot a small grove of the dreaded Eeche fruit, gently swaying in the wind. A foul mood settles within you, you have to resist the urge to test your new Force power against it. It is with the detached, clinical apathy of an observer that you approach the garden.
“...arren...”

Here, you find your first proper remnants of the Clones. Several Phase II helmets lie about the garden in various states of damage and disrepair. You count at least eight of them, scattered haphazardly without a care in the world. Some appear to have been removed voluntarily...others, not so much given the rotting heads within them.

From the looks of things, they seem to have made a last stand against the Children, and sold themselves dearly against the False Mother. Worryingly, several of the branches of the eeche tree are missing fruit. And judging from the sickeningly, saccharine smell and dried fruit stains that have congealed against their helmets...

“The survivors were forced to kneel...” you observe a set of heavy-set prints, “...stripped and force-fed ...and then they were dragged off somewhere...” You notice a particularly violent crater within the otherwise immaculate garden...and a pair of light footsteps breaking away like a bat out of hell.

“...they sacrificed themselves so that she could escape...”

>>What will you do?
>Burn the Eeche grove with Force Fire and see what happens.
>Proceed on your way towards the trail Arotta took.
>>
>>4239953
>Proceed on your way towards the trail Arotta took.
Stealth is all we have here. Keep moving.
>>
>>4239953
>Proceed on your way towards the trail Arotta took.
Why is "set shit on fire out of curiosity" even an option.
>>
>>4239953
>Proceed on your way towards the trail Arotta took.
>>
>>4239953
>>Proceed on your way towards the trail Arotta took.
>>
>>4239953
>Proceed on your way towards the trail Arotta took.
>>
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>>4239953
>>Burn the Eeche grove with Force Fire and see what happens.
It wouldn't have been offered if it wouldn't make things interesting.
>>
>>4239953
>Burn the Eeche grove with Force Fire and see what happens.
Let's get dangerous
>>
>>4239953
>>Proceed on your way towards the trail Arotta took.
>>
>>4239953
>Proceed on your way towards the trail Arotta took.
Because lighting a fire is SO stealthy.
>>
>>4240047
>implying the sentient jungle doesn't already know where we are
>>
>>4240059
You're right, we need to learn the Art of the Small from Vergere...
>>
>>4240063
Shit here on Kakarit is about as vongy as it gets without being vong. I'd half expected the natives to mention some feathered witch chilling in the jungle, but it looks like Kaz is going full Supernatural Encounters on us, which is so much better imo
>>
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>>4239960
>>4239964
>>4239966
>>4239971
>>4239973
>>4239975
>>4239990
>>4240025
>>4240047
Tempting as that particular thought is...

“...bad idea...”

The footsteps lead away from the garden; the distance between each step, easily a meter apart, could only have belonged to Arotta. With the Force, the length of her stride and speed could easily surpass that of even the most conditioned soldier. It would have been easy for her to outrun the Children without much trouble.

Still, a thought suddenly occurs. At the very least, Arotta didn’t have to witness or experience the effects and aftermath of Order 66. Her latest memory of the clones would be of them as loyal soldiers. But you shake off any maudlin thoughts before they can go any further, and proceed on your way.

The trail leads down a gradual incline, snaking around the ziggurat to one of the lower levels behind the spire. The garden and the putrid scent of the eeche give way to something more earthen, like a fresh mound of soil exposed to the air. Your nose wrinkles at the unpleasant smell...

...and you nearly walk head-long into one of the Children.

Years of training stay your hand, even as your instincts scream at you to ignite your lightsaber. You swiftly backpedal behind the mausoleum, taking cover beneath the alcove of a forgotten god, surreptitiously peering around the corner to where the Children gather.

They...aren’t quite Tall Walkers. The five creatures no less than a few meters away appear to be smaller, more compact versions of the terrifying giants. But they still have two heads on you, gently swaying in the breeze as they remain rooted to the soil...resting, perhaps? To your own growing discomfort, their own patch of soil appears to be only one among dozens that stretch across the level...

Is this some sort of nursery? you can’t help but wonder. But what would make the ‘Womb of Jombaral’, if not a place for new Children to grow? Certainly, it would be a logistical nightmare to bring any of their victims deep into the underground...

But none of those thoughts matter. The trail seems to stop here. There doesn’t appear to be any sign of a struggle...Arotta’s footprints just cease a handful of meters after you round the corner.

Damn...this certainly complicates things-

“...Farren...!”

A roar the likes you’ve never heard before suddenly erupts from some uncertain point within the Heart. It isn’t quite as awful as the noise made by the Tall Walkers, but it still curdles your blood, and chills you to the core. Not even a second after its utterance, a terrific explosion obliterates a section of the ziggurat in a fiery ball.

The Heart trembles, and the overhead canopy shudders from the violence. Almost at once, the entirety of the city stirs to life. With a tearing noise, the Tall Saplings uproot themselves from their bed of loam, stumbling, tripping and falling over themselves as they race towards the source of the noise.

(cont.)
>>
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Cursing, you retreat further into the alcove, using only the barest amount of Force power to mute your presence as the city-temple becomes a cacophony of sound. Not entirely dissimilar to a body fighting off an infection, the Saplings and whatever forces they can muster (including infected Clone Troopers, much to your chagrin) are mustering towards the foreign body. Which in that case, might include you if you aren’t too careful.

By sheer happenstance, the wind blows the acrid fumes caused by the explosion over your hiding place. A cautious whiff and taste of the air...

...just as you confirm the scent of a thermal detonator, the distinctive snap-hiss of a lightsaber cuts through the pandemonium of the jungle.

“...show-off...” you grunt, stepping out from the alcove to chase after the Saplings, jumping from ruin to pillar, uncaring of the discomfort in your arm. Still, you can’t keep the hope in your chest from leaking into your voice. “...always have to one-up me, why don’t you?”

=Line Break=

Kakarit had not been kind to Arrota. In lieu of the Jedi robes, your rival fights the Children in little more than scraps of cloth barely held together by lengths of rope. The loincloth that girdles her waist hides little in the way of her thighs and hips, fluttering dangerously above her groin as she flips above a Sapling.

She could care little about her modesty, electing to devote the sturdier parts of her equipment and what appear to be trophies. A necklace of what appear to be either teeth or droid parts rattles with every breath, with every blow that lops a limb off a Sapling. The sky-blue hue of her skin seems to have bronzed after months in the sun, glistening with sweat and exertion...

If nothing else, the patchwork mess of clothing seems to highlight and accentuate the best of her features...nothing that you haven’t seen before. Force help you, but it’s incredibly arousing to watch her dispatch a Sapling with a lightsaber, before ripping it to shreds with the Force.

At the approaching reinforcements, Arotta screams something in her native tongue, a wild look in her bloodshot eyes: “ Sva bahko! Togruta watap d'mehkt!”

"Come, poison", if your Togruti isn’t wrong, "Dance of the dead with this Togruta..."

>>What will you do?
>Join her in the fight. She needs your help.
>Remain hidden. Something isn’t right.
>Custom option. [Write-in.]

[VOTE OPEN FOR THREE HOURS]

Gonna grab some dinner, BRB.
>>
>>4240268
>Join her in the fight. She needs your help.
Hmmmmm...
>>
>>4240268
>Remain hidden. Something isn’t right.
With this much activity, something's coming.
>>
>>4240268
>>Remain hidden. Something isn’t right.
She ate three of these fruits, she probably be trippin' balls and shittin' green.
>>
>>4240277
It seems to me that she may have gone feral with the influence of The Force and fruits.
>>
>>4240268
>Remain hidden. Something isn’t right.
A reminder that this ain't tarzan.
>>
>>4240268
>Remain hidden. Something isn’t right.
Sounds like we'll need to take her round the space shed with a blaster.
>>
>>4240268
>Remain hidden. Something isn’t right.
>>
>>4240268
>>Remain hidden. Something isn’t right.
Either big root energy plantboi is coming or this is just some weird flora foreplay. Either way an ambush would help.
>>
>>4240268
>>Remain hidden. Something isn’t right.
C’mon please let us save her
I just want Farren to be happy
>>
>>4240268
>>Remain hidden. Something isn’t right.
>>
>>4240268
>>Remain hidden. Something isn’t right.
>>
>>4240268
Join her, then fight her
>>
>>4240278
She's probably infected, but I'm willing to bet that Force Sensitivity gives you a fighting chance at driving out the influence.
>>
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>>4240272
>>4240277
>>4240278
>>4240301
>>4240311
>>4240313
>>4240335
>>4240378
>>4240390
>>4240408
>>4240444
It’s so tempting for you to reveal yourself, to run out towards her and apologize for all the stupidity, all the bad blood you shared in your childhoods and adolescence. It all was so immature, a waste of time and effort. Whether or not you actually had feelings for her beyond sentimentality’s sake could wait to be sorted out when you’d returned to Mylar-3.

All you want more than anything else is another reminder of a time before Order 66, before everything went to hell. Kristen lies comatose within the Bantha, Torok came too close to indulging in the Dark Side...at least, you’d be able to save Arotta-

“...Farren, stop...!”

But something’s wrong. There’s something horribly wrong...

As the battle intensifies, Arotta’s behavior seems to deteriorate with every passing strike. The togruta laughter is maniacal, bordering on ecstatic as she leaps from one Sapling to the next in an orgy of violence. Aratu has always been her best form, in addition to her own Makashi to counter you in the dueling grounds, but she has long since abandoned those for a far more brutal, efficient butchery.

This...this is a battle in every sense of the word. But what your rival is performing is not even Jedi Arts, or the teachings of the Order. And her eyes...not quite Sith in the way of other Dark Jedi you’d battled before, but bloodshot, almost glowing with an animalistic bloodlust.

Your heart leaps into your throat as you watch the ground erupt behind her. A Sapling pulls itself from the soil, rearing its talons for a flanking strike. Caught up in the kill of the Children before her, Arotta has little time to react as it rakes its claws across her back.

The scream of pain that erupts from her throat is enough to drive you mad. Just barely, you resist the urge to leap from your hiding spot and strike down the monster. The knuckles around your lightsaber are white, trembling as your rival stumbles forward, falling to the ground as blood seeps down her back. The Saplings close in, a dozen from all sides with talons raised and outstretched...

“Mi grut det...” she growls, past a smile far too wide, far too predatory to be anything but beautiful. The shredded cloth that holds her top together fall away in bloody rags, leaving her chest exposed to the elements. But she doesn’t care, not as she raises her empty hands together and the Force swells within her. “Yeh...hoba det...”

I am the hunter. You are the prey.

In your own puerile games of beating each other senseless with training lightsabers, Arotta had never had the time to hone her own talents in the Force. It would not be inaccurate to say she is just as proficient as you are...but the explosion of power that erupts from her body is nothing like you'd ever seen before.

(cont.)

Eating dinner, gonna post the rest soon.
>>
>>4241832
>she growls, past a smile far too wide, far too predatory to be anything but beautiful
>Arotta had never had the time to hone her own talents in the Force. It would not be inaccurate to say she is just as proficient as you are
Slightly confused by these lines. I assume what is meant is that the smile is too wide to be beautiful and that while she never quite measured up to us in the past, she’s uncontrollably powerful here in the jungle.
>>
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>>4241832
>But what your rival is performing is not even Jedi Arts, or the teachings of the Order. And her eyes...not quite Sith in the way of other Dark Jedi you’d battled before, but bloodshot, almost glowing with an animalistic bloodlust.
On the plus side, putting down rabid Jedi seems to be our bread and butter.
>>
>>4241832
She'll be awesome in bed.
>>
>>4241934
>>4241875
I don't know about you guys but I think I'm ready to put old yeller down.
>>
>>4241946
>>4241875
I think Arotta's force soul thingy is displaced from her body.
>>
Fucking space nam. My feet hurt. I want to hang out with the droids. Never should have come here. And put your damn tits away you stupid blue thot.

You spend a week or two in the green hell and suddenly you go native. What a terrible resolve.
>>
>>4241989
>Week or two
You mean months right?
>>
>>4242006
Doesn't matter. She's a goof.
>>
>>4242012
>Survived several months with dwindling rations and poisoned fruits as the only easily accessible source of food while fighting never-ending swarms of enemies.
>goof
wrong term here.
>>
>>4242015
>doesn't know how to properly survive and instead gets into fights all the time
You're right, she's a turbogoof.
>>
>>4242024
>Being hunted day and night by the forest that Wants to kill you and can see your every move
she's becoming more competent the longer this conversation goes on.
>>
>>4242044
>some lizards have been doing it for an undisclosed and far longer period of time
Not impressed that she's doing what literal savages have managed. And that she's dumb enough to try doing it in the worst way possible. Capable or not she's a goof. It's inevitable. She cannot escape the goofdom.
>>
>>4242058
>The savages who are intimately familiar with the threat and live in places where it can't reach them.
>Compared to the girl who went into the heart and has been surviving in there for several months.
really makes you thonk doesn't it?
>>
>>4242066
I can eat soup with a fork. She can hide where she knows they can get.

Yeah it makes me think she's a dumbass for eating her soup with a fork. She's the eternal goof.
>>
>>4242074
>you can go in but everyone who has has never returned.
>the enemy's surveillance network is absolutely pervasive, preventing any meaningful rest.
>going progressively more insane due to the fruity influence.
>still managing to put up a significant offense against tireless enemies.
>eating soup with a fork.
>>
>>4242089
You're right. I gave her too much credit. Eating soup with a fork is a conscious decision to do something in an utterly inefficient and difficult way. She's just too stupid to realize she's making things harder on herself.

Omegagoof.
>>
>>4242094
>too stupid to realize
>can't leave even if she wanted to
irreconcilable
>>
>>4242113
Yes, you've only strengthened my resolve that she is the queen goof. We will never see eye to eye.
>>
>>4241832
>Feral Torgruta
>battle horny to begin with
>we’re her husbando
Incoming Rape alert
>>
>>4242203
>She still fights off a fuck load of tree people while riding our hips into pure dust
There are worse ways to die as a Jedi.
>>
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>>4241934
>>4242203
>>4242209
>the cumbrains came back
>>
>>4242229
>Implying they ever left
You are like the jedi order. Prideful and blind to the ways of the sith.
>>
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>>4241832
The Saplings caught within the immediate vicinity don’t break or snap as much as disintegrate into ash. Plants wither and die, the soil becomes chalky and barren, stone crumbles into dust as pure, undiluted Force energy violently floods everything and anything round Arotta within a twenty-foot radius. Tendrils of lighting dance at the edge of her fingertips, lashing and ravaging the area in a chaotic maelstrom...

The hilt of your lightsaber groans as you grip it tightly. There hadn’t been any of the Dark Side in her technique, nothing but pure, unbridled energies of the Force channeled in her desperation to survive. But there’s no mistaking the technique for what it is...especially when Force Lighting was a necessary component.

Unlike Torok, there is no font of Dark Side bubbling up within her. Closing your eyes, gently extending your senses out with the Force...and the power that radiates off her body is nearly enough to scald you. It’s wild and feral, full of life and energy that fought to be released. Not entirely dissimilar to the Force signature you’d found on the Herald...

...but you can distinctly make out Arotta’s own personal hue. There’s no way for you to forget it. The rude and brusque togruta that you know far more intimately is still there, fighting to stay in control of the new and sudden energies within her...infecting her...

How many of the fruit had she eaten? Three, you idly recall. Had she eaten more? Swore off them and stuck to rations? How was she surviving in the Heart?

Arotta stands up slowly, wincing as she reaches towards her back. She frowns as her hands come away matted with blood. The gashes themselves aren’t too deep, only a handful of centimeters deep. A flesh wound by any other measures.

But what does concern her, as well as you, is the sight of bright orange sap on her fingernails. Hissing angrily, she wipes her hand across one of the rags on her legs. Arotta plucks what appears to be a bundle of leaves, chewing on them before swallowing bitterly. A natural anti-infectant, perhaps? Or some sort of painkiller-

There is little warning beyond stiff nod of determination and a narrowing of her eyes.

Arotta reverses her grip on her lightsaber, and presses it against the wounds on her back. Flesh steams and blood boils as she presses the beam against her injuries, and the stench of cooked meat causes you to nearly gag. Arotta lets out a pained scream, clenching her teeth as her weapon not only burns away the sap, but cauterizes the wounded flesh...

...that would explain the scars, you think somewhat dumbly to yourself.

>>What will you do?
>Remain hidden and follow her. She has to have a safe place in the Heart to hide.
>Reveal yourself to her. Enough is enough, and this has gone on for far too long.

[VOTE OPEN FOR TWO HOURS]
>>
>>4242237
I guess then you're like the Sith in that you are completely unaware that you have no control over your life and are just a walking mass of backwards decisions masquerading as "freedom"? Or do you just like black leather?
>>
>>4242229
>muhmbrain
The new marching orders are "coomer", drone.

Anyway, it's a likely outcome if we haven't fixed her by the time she finds us after ripping and tearing.
>>
>>4242242
>Remain hidden and follow her. She has to have a safe place in the Heart to hide.
Stealth is the way we got in, it's the way we'll get us out.
>>
>>4242242
>>Remain hidden and follow her. She has to have a safe place in the Heart to hide.
Stop hiding you overgrown houseplant. We all know you felt that. Get down here so we can gank you you leafy fuck.
>>
>>4242243
Personally I like hating my car batteries into having the energy to power my car. The leather on the other is very much so last millennium.

>>4242242
>Remain hidden and follow her. She has to have a safe place in the Heart to hide.
Stealth is our strength after all.
>>
>>4242242
>>Remain hidden and follow her. She has to have a safe place in the Heart to hide.
Maybe see if we can find where that voice in our head is coming from. Could be Master Kosa...
>>
>>4242244
>it's a likely outcome
It appears you're mistaking this for a tgchan quest.
>>4242242
>Remain hidden and follow her. She has to have a safe place in the Heart to hide.
>>
>>4242242
>Reveal yourself to her. Enough is enough, and this has gone on for far too long.

We don't have to kill the herald right now, and our main priority is rescuing Arotta.
The longer we put that off the more danger she'll be in.
>>
>>4242253
>The leather on the other is very much so last millennium.
Well it's a good thing that not only is this a long time ago but also very far away.
>>
>>4242242
>Remain hidden and follow her. She has to have a safe place in the Heart to hide.
Someone got sap?
Prepare that double tap.
>>
>>4242209
We are likely two very different men, but we are now brothers in spirit
>>4242242
>Reveal yourself to her. Enough is enough, and this has gone on for far too long.
Never approach an animal in its home or where it’s cornered
>>
>>4242242
>Reveal yourself to her. Enough is enough, and this has gone on for far too long.
>>
>>4242284
>Never approach an animal in its home or where it’s cornered
You have a point.

>>4242242
>Reveal yourself to her. Enough is enough, and this has gone on for far too long.
>>
>>4242242
>Remain hidden and follow her. She has to have a safe place in the Heart to hide.
>>
>>4242242
>>Remain hidden and follow her. She has to have a safe place in the Heart to hide.
>>
>>4242292
>You have a point.
You know he's just trying to get snu-snu, right? Besides, it'd be far better for us to have our big dumb anime fight in the relative safety of her hovel than right out in the middle of the place here.
>inb4 why would she fight us
Because she's gone nutty and she just got out of a fight. Still has the adrenaline going. It'll be a fight either way.

Also he's low-key saying she's sub-sentient or whatever. So that's nice.
>>
>>4242301
>Still has the adrenaline going
Also a good point. Wouldn't he want to get raped in said hovel, though?

I'm abstaining.
>>
>>4242301
Adding to this: Don't forget that shes clearly using force powers that a normal padawan would have problems with, if they were even allowed to learn them, and that the fruit was described as addictive. Plus, don't forget that while force sensitives have a bit of resistance to Jombaral's influence, resistance isn't immunity, especially if the only thing she's been eating is the fruit.
>>
>>4242319
I don't think he really cares where it happens.
>>
>>4242301
It's a shit show either way you slice it. Personally I'm hoping that following her will just let us know where she holds up and we'll be given a choice there to either go in and talk or leave to go tackle the heart.
It's gonna be a pain in the ass fighting with one arm to state the fookin obvious.
>>
>>4242368
Clearly we need a robot arm. Much easier to replace and it hurts less to lose.
>>
>>4242379
Don't stop at just one, get four extra limbs like Doc Ock.
>>
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>>4242249
>>4242250
>>4242253
>>4242257
>>4242259
>>4242266
>>4242280
>>4242288
>>4242292
>>4242294
>>4242296
By the time she’s certain that the purge is complete, Arotta’s back is an ugly mess of scar tissue and smoking flesh. The slightest movement seems to bring discomfort, and she winces with every labored breath. Even with the ability to Control or otherwise regulate pain, that experience could not have been pleasant.

After devouring more of the plant in her pockets, she tastes the air, sifting through the ashes of the Tall Saplings with her foot. The chalky soil yields nothing. With an irritated growl, she affixes her lightsaber to her belt, stumbling down the ziggurat without looking back...

...you wait for a few moments before you follow her.

The Heart, for all intents and purposes, seems to have quieted somewhat. At the base of the temple, you can see dozens of Children fighting the flames from her thermal detonator, smothering the fire with their own bodies. The nursery is still reeling from the sheer power that Arotta’s Maelstrom unleashed; the soil trembles, and what few remaining Saplings stand elect to remain sedentary and stationary...

In the back of your mind, you instinctively know that even with the pandemonium, something should have noticed your arrival. Dampening your own connection to the Force certainly goes a long way. However, what’s stopping one of the Children from simply looking at your direction? If the Heart is one big organism, then certainly, something should have already happened...

“...why the hell am I complaining?” you mutter as you round another bend, hopping from one level of the ziggurat to the next.

Arotta’s trail leads into a corridor at near the bottom of the ziggurat, disappearing into a manhole that you quickly enter into. She hadn’t been nearly thorough enough with her lightsaber; every few steps or so are marred by splotches of her own blood. Most of it is still red. But as per the Clones’ rhyme, a small amount of it looks worryingly green in the dim light of the canopy.

But you shake your head, focusing instead on your immediate surroundings. “Sewage or maintenance tunnel...”

It’s a haphazard guess at best, since you see nearby pedestals with more defaced gods of the Kakarit. But by the Force, the smell! Between the stagnant rain water that drips from the nursery and the overhead canopy...add into what you suspect to be thousands of years’ worth of sewage from before the time of Jombaral...

“You’d think they’d shovel this out,” you wheeze, pinching your nose tight as you slip on a rebreather, “...put it back into the soil...”

The smell of ammonia is overpowering. Little wonder why Arotta might make this her hiding place. From what you remember in the greenhouses in the Temple, too much of the fertilizer is toxic. Of course, it also applied to most carbon-based life forms, barring the few species that breathed it as one might oxygen.

(cont.)
>>
>>4242301
I mean, the word Feral has been thrown around and I’d guess that she wasn’t having a good time BEFORE 66 and the death of her master so I’m also guessing (based on the muttering) that she’s a little nuts and possibly tapping into the Dark Side (which is known to fuck with sanity)
Sure, I want some Blue Snu Snu, but that doesn’t stop me from knowing how to deal with fragile people who are real angry
Cornered Animals Lash Out, doesn’t matter if they’re emotionally cornered or physically cornered and nobody sleeps without their back against a wall
>>
>>4242427
The clones with Kosa didn't get the order, and we just got a description that she's not using the Dark Side at all.
>>
>>4242427
Just to let you know, we don't know what happened to Arotta's master. She ran off into the jungle with a platoon while Master Kosa stuck with the clones until around day 87, along with Skipp.

>>4242434
Jombaral doesn't use the dark side, but it's still dangerous as fuck.
>>
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>>4242414
You have a rebreather. Arotta does not. Between the insidious influence of the fruit she had already eaten, whatever she had to scrounge to survive, and the toxic atmosphere of the sewers...little wonder why she’s gone native. Although one would think her lungs would have corroded over the months she’d been trapped.

Then again, Togruta physiology isn’t your most knowledgeable subject...at least beyond the bedroom or the sparring pad. Something to look into when you get back to Mylar-3.

The trail of blood and footprints lead towards a filthy cistern, and a drain clogged with all manner of debris. The only thing devoid of moss and grime is the statue of a life-sized Kakari, dressed in the same manner of clothing you’d seen on Bos. Her hands are raised in supplication towards a slightly-domed cieling, holding a brazier where one might have lit fire, but there’s something about its features that strikes you odd...

...you can’t quite put your finger on it. You’ve only had a handful of days to stay with the natives. Beyond Troxl’s iconic blue scales, and Bos’ clothing, all of the Kakari look the same.

But when your attention turns back towards the trail, it abruptly vanishes. The footprints on the paved walkway appear to vanish at its end, as if their owner had leapt into the pool. With a grimace, you begin to shuck off your outermost robes. Swimming was not the first thing that you had in mind, unless there’s some sort of secret passage underneath the pedestal...

...oh, what the hell.

Examining the pedestal yields nothing. No secret passages, no hidden buttons, nothing beyond a closer look at the Kakari Shamanka...who starts to bear more of a passing resemblance as you look at its features...perhaps a distant ancestor of sorts?

Bah, at any rate, you’re looking for an excuse to not take the plunge into the filth. An air vent or side grate, anything where she might have gone. Straining against the statue in search of such a thing yields nothing...

It comes no louder than a whisper on the wind: “Mi grut det...maij ghe...”

A drop splatters on your shoulder, reeking of iron and chlorophyll.

The translation of the latter half kicks in only after you look up to where the Kakari’s hands are raised, higher than the features you’d so intently focused on...

...and find Arotta staring back at you with that insane gleam in her eyes, holding herself above the statue with supernatural strength, uncaring of the pain as she presses her back into the dome, uncaring of anything beyond the sight before her eyes:

Fresh meat.

A trip wire breaks with a quiet sigh, the final nail in the reversal of predator and prey as high-tension wire begins to whine.

“Oh, kriff.”

>Roll 2d6+6 Vigilance [+3 Resolve, +1 Skill, +2 Jedi Shadow]
>Best out of three.
>>
Rolled 6, 4 + 6 = 16 (2d6 + 6)

>>4242439
WEW!
>>
Rolled 5, 5 + 6 = 16 (2d6 + 6)

>>4242439
And this is why you take the advantage.
>>
Rolled 4, 5 + 6 = 15 (2d6 + 6)

>>4242439
>>
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Rolled 3, 6 + 6 = 15 (2d6 + 6)

>>4242439

For Kriff indeed
>>
Rolled 5, 4 + 6 = 15 (2d6 + 6)

>>4242439
Jesus.
>>
She's watched to many holo-flicks. Oldest trick in the book.
>>
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>>4242441
>>4242442
>>4242445
“...Farren, run...!”

It’s only by pure instincts, not even the Force, that compel you to throw yourself across the floor. In the split-second that followed, a tripwire screams and would have caught your foot in a vice, propelling you up towards the dome. The statue, seemingly the counterweight to the trap, falls off the pedestal to smash itself upon the floor as the trap snatches nothing.

Arotta’s scream of fury echoes loudly in the stoneworks of the sewage. Falling down from the ceiling, the togruta lands on her feet, only wincing slightly at the pain that shoots up her legs. Then, with another feral screech, she ignites her lightsaber and throws herself towards you.

You roll, just as her blue blade drives itself into the walkway. Cursing, you leap onto your feet, igniting your own golden blade to block her next attack. For the first time in what might have been several months to her, the sound of lightsabers clashing echoes throughout the sewers as you lock blades and struggle for dominance over the other.

“Arotta!” You curse inwardly at her inhuman strength. She’s always been strong, but not this strong. “Stop, you stupid blueberry, it’s me! Farren Gaelle-”

Her only answer is an inarticulate snarl as she tries to bite you. The sharp canine teeth iconic to her species just barely miss your neck. When you counter with a swift headbutt, she retreats in what might have looked like an Ataru technique. Perhaps she isn’t as gone as you had thought.

...which is gonna make this a whole lot harder than you’d like...

>>What lightsaber form will you use?
>Form II/Makashi, the Duelist’s Form. [3d6+6]
>From VI/Niman, the Hybrid’s Form. [2d6+8]
>>
Rolled 4, 1, 3 + 6 = 14 (3d6 + 6)

>>4242463
>Form II/Makashi, the Duelist’s Form. [3d6+6]
>>
>>4242463
>Form II/Makashi, the Duelist’s Form. [3d6+6]
>>
>>4242463
>Form II/Makashi, the Duelist’s Form. [3d6+6]
As much of a problem it has against brute force. It's sadly our greatest strength.
>>
>>4242463
Wait, are we supposed to roll now, or wait until you tell us to?
>>
>>4242463
>Form II/Makashi, the Duelist’s Form. [3d6+6]
Welp, time to put the old girl down
>>
>>4242463
>Form II/Makashi, the Duelist’s Form
>>
Rolled 2, 2, 5 + 6 = 15 (3d6 + 6)

>>4242463
>Form II/Makashi, the Duelist’s Form. [3d6+6]
>>
>>4242469
Just hold tight. I'm gonna call for a roll in a few minutes once voting's ended.
>>
Rolled 4, 1, 5 + 6 = 16 (3d6 + 6)

>>4242463
>>
>>4242463
>Form II/Makashi, the Duelist’s Form. [3d6+6]
>>
>>4242463
>>Form II/Makashi, the Duelist’s Form. [3d6+6]
>>
Rolled 4, 4, 2 + 6 = 16 (3d6 + 6)

>>4242463
>>Form II/Makashi, the Duelist’s Form. [3d6+6]
>>
>>4242463
>Form II/Makashi, the Duelist’s Form. [3d6+6]
She looks too hyped up on fruit to tire out in the normal way of Ataru, but I wonder if more fundamental lightsaber techniques will jog some muscle memory. Would Form I do anything?
>>
>>4242465
>>4242466
>>4242467
>>4242471
>>4242472
>>4242474
>>4242477
>>4242479
>>4242483
>>4242485
You take a deep breath, pocketing the rebreather. A limited amount of exposure to the ammonia might make you dizzy, but it won’t outright kill you. And you need all the breath you can muster without some machine getting in your way.

“Alright...you wanna spar?” Sighing, you fall into a duelist’s stance. “It’s been a while since we’ve went at it...last time we met, I think I still had more wins than you. Didn’t stop you from hauling me off into the nearest storage unit for some stress relief...”

Arotta growls, stuffing her mouth with more of those leaves in her belt. Definitely some kind of opiate or narcotic, then. With the mess of her back the way it is, there isn’t any other way she’d be able to match you strike-for-strike...and all the more reason for you to be careful.

On some deeper part of your brain that hasn’t evolved out of the Stone Age, it remarks that it would be a shame to scar her up any more than necessary. Or maybe to approach bringing her back to sanity in a lewder way...

“Come on, you big, feral, blueberry,” you gesture, quenching those thoughts with an iron finality. The Force billows around you gently as you offer her a duelist’s salute. “I’ve come too far and suffered too much to simply let you regress back a few thousand years and make a literal snack out of me...”

She spits, thrusting her chest at you provocatively with a sneer on her face. “Yhe’na!”

Survive.

And then the two of you start to kill each other.

>>Please roll 3d6+8 Makashi.
>Best out of three.
>>
Rolled 5, 5, 6 + 6 = 22 (3d6 + 6)

>>4242494
>>
Rolled 6, 3, 2 + 6 = 17 (3d6 + 6)

>>4242494
>>
Rolled 4, 2, 6 + 8 = 20 (3d6 + 8)

>>4242494
WEW!
>>
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>>4242496
>>
>>4242496
Nice. You gotta love Makashi.
>>
>>4242496
Jesus. Apparently we have an innate bonus for battering blueberries.
>>
>>4242496
>you manage to lightsaber parry the Force Maelstorm
>>
>>4242496
Yeahhhh...

>>4242502
...oh no?
>>
>>4242502
>>4242496
good roll!
but it should be even 2 points higher, he only added 6 to the dice
>>
>>4242496
>24
Goodbye, togruta fuckbuddy
>>
>>4242508
LET THE BLOOD SPILL AND THE BONES BREAK BENEATH THE WOMB OF THE WORLD!
>>
>>4242502
>>4242508
I make big roll
>>
>>4242496
Word spreads across the Empire of FARREN "WEEDWHACKER" GAELLE
>>
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>>4242506
And here I had this dramatic duel planned out. Damn you, /qst/ dice.
>>
>>4242520
This was never a duel Kaz, merely Farren coming to terms with what is standing before him.
>>
>>4242520
It's okay Kaz.

We'll blind a Padawan by accident during basic training to make up for it.
>>
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>>4242513
MAY THE PENANCE WE DELIVER THIS DAY ONLY CEMENT OUR DEVOTION TO THE PATH OF THE JUST AND RIGHTEOUS
>>
>>4242434
They didn’t get the order, but she felt 99% of all Jedi get gunned down while on Space Nam
>>
>>4242545
Fair 'nuf.
>>
>>4242496
K E K
>>4242546
Thanks, and all a this is kinda what I wanted to avoid although we probably would have been ambushed by a monster and would have had to team up to kill it or have a nifty three way battle with the blue buttcheeks
>>
>>4242515
>Not Farren “BlueSmacker” Gaelle
>Farren “I don’t give a hoot-a if you’re not torgruta” Gaelle
>Farren “if you’re killing plants, then I’m taking off my pants” Gaelle
>Farren “Order 66? But I need my montral fix” Gaelle
>Farren “Lekku Lust” Gaelle
>Farren “As long as she’s got Abs” Gaelle
>Farren “I’m swimmin in Warrior Women” Gaelle
>>
>>4242558
>not literally any decent nickname
You're doing this on purpose, right?
>>
Uh, OP ...I know I’ve already made a post about something missing from the skills list, but I just now realized we’re also missing Force Jump 1 from the powers list...
>>
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>>4242560
>Farren “her booty’s Blue, I know what I must do” Gaelle
>Farren “I want the Blue Snu-Snu” Gaelle
>>
>>4242589
>Farren "A fan of fruit? Give them the boot" Gaelle
>Farren "You like that tree? Stay away from me" Gaelle
>>
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>>4242496
>>4242497
>>4242498
With every clash of your ligthsabers, brilliant bursts of gold and blue illuminate the darkness of the sewer. The little shrine with the Kakari priestess is the first casualty, the dome and pillars sliced to pieces with every backswing or parry that sends someone’s weapon flying. It doesn’t take too long before the very floor beneath you begins to bear molten scars and scorch marks from the ferocity of your duel.

The two of you are arguably more conservative than you could be. Foregoing the more show-stopping techniques afforded by the Force, there seems to be some unspoken agreement to only use lightsabers, and limit Force techniques. A sign of respect between duelists, or the idling machinations of a predator toying with her prey?

But you’d hope that neither of you would be so stupid to use the Force in such close quarters, and in a relatively unstable location. At least a thousand tons worth of stone hang above your heads, thousands of years old and supported only by the roots of the invading plant life. One wrong swing or application with the Force could open a pocket of ammonia gas, and trigger a catastrophic explosion that would see you and Arotta obliterated.

Is she aware of those things? Probably not, given how wild Arotta dances from one surface to the next. Her lightsaber is a blue hornet, ducking and weaving from one attack to the next in an attempt to expose a weakness. There is hardly more than a few seconds when she isn’t moving, snarling or otherwise setting her species back a few hundred thousand years in cultural development.

You, on the other hand, remain steadfast and resolute. Protecting your left side as best you can, you adopt a conservative policy of defending and counter-attacking. The right side of your body is addressed to Arotta, no matter where she flips or flies and strikes from. The slimy, grime-covered walkway goes a long way in helping you pivot or otherwise make quick adjustments with every new angle of attack.

Master Larid would have been proud. True enough, it’s hellishly difficult to parry or block with only a single hand, especially when she comes in with a double-handed strike. But as long as you either dodge away or pivot, Arotta’s doing most of the work. You’ve barely moved more than a meter away from your initial starting point. All she’s done is tire herself out from her flips and acrobatics.

Aratu is certainly a good style for someone like her. It’s an aggressive technique, with kinetic movements that demand its practitioner to stay almost constantly on the offensive. Masters Yoda and Tsu-Choi are (or were) masters of the art. But with its great emphasis on speed and stamina, the style is best employed in short, and devastating bursts.

Hardly ideal for prolonged combat.

Add into the fact that Arotta had the flesh nearly skinned off her back. Sure, she'd ingested some sort of plant. But when she’d come off that high...

(cont,)
>>
>>4242614
That fuckin pic
> “Imma kriffin do a jump kick at this bitch”
> “did this Force dammed Jeed just leap at me like he’s straight outta prawn lake and not expect me to cut his foot in half”
Kek
>>
>>4242618
>surprise lightsaber foot, bitch
>>
>>4242614
There. You lead in with a thrust towards the side. Her face contorts as she moves to block the attack, nearly screaming with exertion. At the last second, she steps out of the way, propelling herself backwards on the slimy walkway, wincing at the movement, failing to hid the way her limbs tremble...

Your counter-offensive is swift and brutal. Count Dooku might have been proud. Your advance is unforgiving, and leaves no room for error. Slashes and diagonals are easy enough to parry. Not so much with thrusts and lunges. You drive her back into a corner, back against a dead end, giving her no room to flip or maneuver.

By the time the last blow comes, the painkillers seem to have worn off. Her hands are trembling terribly, and nothing but sheer force of will keeps her standing. Arotta can barely hold her weapon. The final blow comes as a thrust, which she sloppily attempts to parry. With a deft flick of your wrist, you bat her lightsaber out of the way, swiveling to the ground, up in the air...

...and out of her hands. With a grimace of pain, you extend your left arm as far as it can from the sling, and reach out with the Force. The weapon of your rival leaps into your open hand, and you hold on tightly. Arotta manages an inarticulate roar of anger, abandoning her form in an attempt to tackle you...

“Yield...” you demand heatedly, lowering your lightsaber towards the floor “I know that there’s enough of you in there that can understand be, you stupid, prideful, blueberry. Sit the kriff down. I’ve got rations and some of that miracle laxative Bos-”

She doesn’t listen. When does she ever? Mustering up the last vestiges of her strength, Arotta lunges towards you. But before you can get your lightsaber back up in time, her hands dig into the side of your head. With a tight grip on your hair and padawan braids, she isn’t gentle as she violently brings your lips onto hers.

Much like the other times you’ve come together, the kiss is rough and desperate. The sharpened ends of her canines pierce your lip, filling your mouths with the sharp tang of iron. This close, there’s no getting away from her; her musk fills your nose, the taste of something cloying and a fresh kill sears your tongue...

...you’ve missed this. Try as hard as you want to deny it, reject the sensation of her skin against yours, her warmth against your chest...

She breaks away, gasping as her hands trail down towards your arms, almost tearing at your clothes with desperation: “Ke’leh.”

But before she can go any further...

“Sorry,” you apologize, only an instant before rear back and headbutt her as hard as possible.

Arotta’s eyes roll into the back of her head as she collapses onto the ground in a jumbled, unconscious heap. Scratching the back of your head, and rubbing the taste of what you hope isn’t Eeche off your lips, you get to work as you ponder the last thing she’d said.

Mate.

=====
>>
>>4242242
>Reveal yourself to her. Enough is enough, and this has gone on for far too long.
>>
>>4242629
Forget to F5? You're only about five hours and six story posts late for that.
>>
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I'm taking some of the day off tomorrow (or today [5/8]) for my birthday, but I won't leave you high and dry. I think I can conjure up some snippets based on the notes that I have once I wake up.

>>Please select an interlude:
>Master Aure's Mission to Secure Mylar.
>Master Larid's Journey to Coruscant.
>Youngling Short stories.

[VOTE OPEN FOR SIX HOURS]
>>
>>4242630
Yep, looks like. Could just be me being an idiot though.
>>
>>4242632
Happy birthday man, hope you have a good one!
>>
>>4242632
Happy birthday Kaz!
>>Master Larid's Journey to Coruscant.
>>
>>4242632
>Master Larid's Journey to Coruscant.
More adventures inside the mind of a madman.

And happy birthday Kaz, maybe YHVH will gift you with SMTV news.
>>
>>4242632
>Master Larid's Journey to Coruscant.
Why yes I want to see stealth master in action.
Also have a happy birthday QM.
>>
>>4242632
>Master Larid's Journey to Coruscant.

How many senator’s daughters did he seduce this trip?
>>
>>4242632
Oh, shit, happy birthday OP!
>>
>>4242645
The real question is whether or not that they all know they're fucking the same man.
>>
>>4242632
>>Master Larid's Journey to Coruscant.
>>
>>4242632
>>Youngling Short stories.
>>
>>4242632
>Youngling Short stories.
Larid's face when the younglings start talking about what Kreia told them.
>>
>>4242632
>Master Aure's Mission to Secure Mylar.
I want to learn more about our fledgeling stratocracy.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d3)

>>4242632
1- Master Aure's Mission to Secure Mylar.
2- Master Larid's Journey to Coruscant.
3- Youngling Short stories.
>>
>>4242632
>Master Aure's Mission to Secure Mylar.
>>
>>4242632
>>Youngling Short stories.
>>
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>>4242642
>>4242643
>>4242644
>>4242645
>>4242662

>>Jedi Temple, Coruscant

There was hardly a time when Larid thought that Coruscant didn’t stink. In both the literal and metaphorical sense, the ecumenopolis was an absolute cesspit for something supposed to be the capital of law and order. The dirt he had on dozens of Senators would see them permanently disgraced, jailed or executed should they come to light. And for all the veneer of cleanliness and order the upper levels tried to present, the lower levels held a history that couldn’t be completely swept under the rug.

The number of gangs waging war for control over the underworld couldn’t be counted on a single hand. The lower levels gathered the planet’s refuse, the trash discarded by the elite and the literal scoundrels alike, promising thrills and power should one have the means to seize it. Other planets certainly had it worse. Taris and Nar-Shaddaa certainly come to mind, what with the Rakghouls and Nekghouls on the former, and the extreme poverty on the latter.

But no matter how many times Larid had to descend into the lower levels, he never felt quite as clean afterwards. He’d done things, things that would make other Jedi call for his explusion, and bounty hunters blush in order to safeguard the Republic, things that he hadn’t been proud of but were necessary to perform. It still weighed heavily on his heart, that at the Jedi’s doorstep, a festering corruption lay beneath the façade of civility and order.

Maybe if they took care to policing their own backyard, things might have gone differently.

But, he digressed. Coruscant smelled like shit in every possible way, but even in his wildest fever dreams did he think to smell burning corpses at the highest levels.

Undignified as it was, the Clones had at least gone to the trouble of disposing of their leaders’ remains in a way with keeping with Jedi traditions. He couldn’t count how many bodies had been tossed upon the pyre. More than a hundred...maybe even a thousand if he included Younglings. Maybe this was only the latest batch the Clones had decided to burn.

It was a struggle to keep his anger in check. Nearly ten thousand Jedi had lived, breathed and trained in that Temple, good men and women that he’d never see again, children denied of a bright and promising future as protectors of the galaxy. Their stronghold, a smoking and plundered ruin...

As per keeping with the traditions of the Jedi Shadow, Master Brethon Larid did not exist within the archives of the Temple. Still, he’d taken precautions. He’d shaved his head, loping off the thick mane that he’d grown during his sabbatical with the Younglings. The clothes on his back were more in line with a traveling businessman.

Here, he was simply another face in the crowd that had gathered for the funeral of the Jedi, hundreds that stood before the entrance of the temple as the legacy of the Jedi Order and the Republic burned before their eyes.

(cont.)
>>
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“I can’t believe the Jedi tried to overthrow the government!” a bystander whispered in disbelief, “I think they were the ones who were betrayed-”

His companion was quick to silence him, fearful as a pair of Clones completed a patrol around the perimeter. “Quiet, friend! These days, talk like that could land you in jail...”

Those were one of the kinder among the crowd. They were heavily outnumbered by the detractors, who murmured that the Jedi were traitors. And that they deserved everything that they had gotten. Idly, Larid observed that the scathing sentiments were held more often than not by his fellow humans...

What had happened to the Republic since his unwitting departure to the Unknown Regions? He’d heard of the new security measures put in place by the Chancellor, citing a need for safety and security against Separatist infiltrators at the cost of some privacy and rights. It was a measure that he reluctantly approved of. The last thing anybody wanted was another Cad Bane or Aurra Sing easily slipping through the gaps.

He had a terrible feeling in his gut, but he didn’t want to think about it, let alone voice it. Not until he had more proof. As it was, the sight before him was like a sword to the heart. He’d failed in his duties as a Jedi Shadow, failed in the worst possible way...the Sith had returned, and cast a dark pallor across Coruscant and the entire galaxy.

A voice cut through his maudlin thoughts, and the dull roar of the crowd: “People of the Republic!”

It was a Jedi! Not one that he recognized. The fool stood at the forefront of the crowd, waving his lightsaber in an attempt to rile up the crowd. The Clones, too busy watching the pyre burn, had only just noticed, and were barking orders to the rest of their squad to gather.

“The Jedi were your protectors!” he implored to the indifferent crowd. Some were sneering, others horrified, still more indifferent and trying to get away before the shooting started. “They, like you, have been the victims of a corrupt government! Will you stand idly by and allow your freedoms to be taken from you?”

With a snap-hiss, the nameless Jedi ignited his lightsaber, roaring, “Or will you fight?! And my fellow Jedi – I know that some of you are here, in this crowd! I call on you to help me!”

The Jedi’s eyes swept across the mass of people, and for a cold moment, Larid thought that their eyes had met. He quickly looked away, mostly acting the part of a meek business man far too out of his league at the current events unfolding. As for the rest of the crowd...he saw several familiar faces that looked equally disturbed.

Don’t be so stupid to follow him, he thought grimly, I still have a need for Jedi...

“Let us find justice!” the idiot finished, turning to face the Clones, who now saw him for the threat that he possessed and brought their blasters to bear. “For our brother and sister Jedi!”

(cont.)
>>
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Futile as it was, it took every ounce of self-control to not stop the idiot in his vain, self-aggrandizing charge against the Clones. It wasn’t even a battle. He’d only killed one of the Clones before the rest surrounded him. They emptied the clips of their blasters, shooting the corpse until they were absolutely certain that they knew beyond a shadow of a doubt that the Jedi was dead.

Larid grit his teeth to the point where it nearly hurt as the Clones dragged his body and dumped it with the rest of the pile. Within seconds, the idealistic Jedi had become another shapeless, burning mass on the pyre.

What a stupid, fucking waste...

Fool as he might have been, there was one thing he had been right about. Larid counted five individuals in the crowd who only could have been Jedi. Even if all six of them had gone to help, nothing would have changed. They would only have slaughtered a squad before the entirety of the garrison fell upon them. And if not the garrison, then the entire military of Coruscant and the Sith Lords themselves...

But of those five, only three were able to meet his eyes.

As the crowd dispersed, Larid made a discrete ploy to follow the pair that had caught his eye. The large Bonthan could only have been Kai Hudorra. And the shrinking violet of a girl beside him had to be padawan. The bad haircut just barely managed to hide her gender from the rest of the crowd.

The Shadow frowned as the pair became engrossed in their discussion. Hudorra said something. The padawan presented her lightsaber. To both the girl’s and Larid’s shock, the Bonthan threw both lightsabers into a nearby trash compactor.

Even as the apprentice looked aghast at her master, he placed her hands upon her shoulders, muttering something low in her ears. The mouths of aliens were harder to read, but Larid didn’t have to try too hard to guess what he was trying to tell her. The fact that the Bonthan had produced a pouch of coins and placed it within the girl’s hands ended any speculation.

Run away and forget everything you’ve learned. Forget about your life in the temple, forget everything about the Force...forget about being a Jedi.

Downtrodden and dejected, the girl bid her master a final, forlorn look before she disappeared into the crowd. Larid took note of her appearance, the bad haircut, the large backpack upon her shoulders...easy enough to find again after a short discussion with her master.

The owner of the third pair of eyes came just as Larid did, exhaling roughly as he joined the Bonthan besides the compactor. With one arm in a sling, he tugged the back of his silvered hair with his good hand. “That was a hard thing you just did, Kai Hudorra.”

“A necessary thing, Dass Jennir,” the Bonthan refuted, raising a hand as Larid approached, “...Brethon, old friend.”

(cont.)
>>
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Dass Jennir...Larid knew of the man, but had never met him formally. He’d heard the rumors, of course. A poor connection to the Force, utterly average in every respect...but Jennir had a talent for controlling a battlefield, molding the situation so that his opponents were forced to fight on his terms, not theirs. Some had speculated that he’d never amount to anything, but you recall that he made Master, even general of his own contingent of Clone troopers.

The two humans sized each other up, nodding in acknowledgement. Greetings were relatively unnecessary. All the Jedi were kin to each other.

“Kai, I’m glad to see you safe.” To the silver-haired human, Larid pointed towards his arm. “Are you alright, Jennir?”

“Sprained. Nothing a few days of rest won’t be able to heal...” the human exhaled. “Both of you returned to Coruscant, even though the beacon warns Jedi to stay away?”

“I didn’t know,” defended Hudorra, “I had to dispose of our comlinks. And yet you’re here-”

“Seeking counsel, the same as you-”

“And I have unfinished business here left to perform,” Larid answered darkly. At the looks of horror they both gave him, he waved them off, adding, “I forgot to take my apprentice’s stuffed animal with me last time I was here. I have to go get it for him, or else he won’t be able to sleep properly.”

Jennir looked at him agog, but Hudorra let out a wheezing, dry laugh. “I’ve forgotten about your sense of humor, old friend. How is your padawan?”

“Alive and well, last time I saw him,” he answered, electing to keep secret the greater details of their escape. “We didn’t have any Clones with us.”

“How fortuitous...” To Jennir, the Bonthan addressed, “And I would counsel you to dispose of the lightsaber hidden within your sling.”

The Shadow’s face tightened. What was his friend saying? Between this and his actions towards his padawan...this was not the same Kai that he’d grown up alongside with.

Jennir, to his credit, remained impassive. “Perhaps I will one day, when I no longer need it.”

“You aren’t planning to attack the troops at the temple, are you?”

“I wouldn’t throw my life away so hastily...or vainly, for that matter...” the human intoned dryly, “But neither am I done fighting for the principles upon which the Republic was based.”

Larid had already a positive view of the man, but Jennir’s words gave him heart that his spirit had not been broken. “As am I. Both of you...I could use your help.” His fellow human looked perplexed, and Hudorra looked troubled. “I’ve got myself a dozen younglings in need of masters. Hidden away safely, far beyond where both the Stih and this Empire won’t reach them. I could not even begin to describe the great need I have for teachers.”

(cont.)
>>
>>4242632
Happy Birthday Kaz. Mine was a few days ago.
>>
>>4242632
Oh shit, happy birthday, mine’s in a bit
>>
>>4243610
Happy Birthday nigga.

>>4243619
You too have a Happy Birthday.
>>
Happy birthday Ka-
>Cad Bane
never mind.
>>
>>4243610
Happy birthday
>>4243628
Thanks dude, there’s something weirdly nice about random strangers wishing you a happy birthday
>>
>>4243142
>just finished exams
>gf turns out negative for kungflu
>both got our stimulus checks
>Kaz is back with best Star Wars Quest

This has been the best damn day of my life so far. Happy to have you back Kaz
>>
>>4242632
Since I forgot to say so earlier.

Happy Birthday Kaz!
>>
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>>4243142
Professionalism tempered his excitement, but he refrained from the bigger details. Not out in the open where there were eyes and ears everywhere. His voice was already low, but already, he was planning where best to fit them. Farren would bring back Kosa and her apprentice from the hellhole of Kakarit. Aure needed some convincing in regards to her padawan’s current state...and if the Cathar survived his trial...

At the tip of his fingers, Larid had nine potential Jedi Knights and Masters between twelve potential padawans...thirteen when he’d track down the girl Kai had sent away. It wouldn’t be too hard to find a replacement crystal-

“No.” Hudorra’s blunt refusal brought his thoughts to a screeching, violent halt. The Bonthan’s face was tired and weary beyond the silver of his mane, but his voice remained firm. “My friend, I am finished with war. I cannot accept your offer.”

Surprised as he was, Jennir at least had the courtesy to hold his silence. Not so much with Larid. The Shadow’s thoughts first went to confusion, then to frustration, comprehension, understanding...and a broiling fury he was barely able to reign in.

“...I’m sorry,” he apologized in a tone stiff and clipped, “Can you repeat yourself?”

Hurodda gave him a pitying look, one he had always detested from the elder Jedi. “You’re not so old as to be going hard of hearing. But, I will tell you what I told the girl. Our future, if we are to have one, depends on us to survive. But we must go to ground – hide our abilities, hide our beliefs, and await a new hope for the day that the Jedi Order can be reborn.”

Reborn?!

Even the general found what the Bonthan had said to be somewhat troubling. But between the horrific tragedies he’d seen and felt on that day, and when he’d awoken on Mylar-3, Larid...was far from himself. The passerby around them paid them little attention, thinking them to be business partners having a disagreement. Thus, he allowed a fraction of the rage to slip out.

“The Jedi Order is not dead,” he hissed. “We are proof of it! I need you! I need masters to train the next generation of Jedi as we weather out this storm-"

“And were I in your robes, I would do the same to your Younglings as I did to her.” The Bothan’s face was grave and serious. “There is nothing we can offer them beyond a lifetime of misery and pain should we continue to guide them along as if nothing had happened.”

“There isn’t any way you could know that,” Larid snapped, staring in the direction the girl had disappeared into. It hadn’t been more than a few minutes. It would be an easy exercise to find her, offer a ride back to Mylar-3-

“You will not chase after Noirah.” Hudorra’s expression was fierce. “If you take a single step in her direction, then I will act accordingly. Master Simms will not have died to protect her padawan only for you to return to that path, Brethon.”

(cont.)
>>
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>>4245232
“What gives you the right, you coward,” the Shadow hissed, his fist nearly tight enough to pierce the flesh of his palm, “You swore an oath to the Republic!”

“And the Republic is dead,” he refuted quietly, “They reveled in our deaths before they became this Empire. And now that we are being hunted down like animals, can you guarantee the safety of your refuge against the fearsome might of the Empire?”

“You would hand the galaxy over to the Sith without putting up a fight?” Jennir interjected.

“With what?” Hurodda gestured helplessly back towards the temple, to where the pillar of smoke continued to burn high into the skies of Coruscant. “What could we bring to bear against the Sith and their Clone Army? My brothers, please. The order is naught but ashes scattered to the wind-”

“The order is not gone!” the Shadow nearly roared. “We still stand. My padawan and his friends are still alive. I have twelve Younglings hidden away safely that would be the foundation upon which our Order continues-”

“Our Order...” the Bonthan chuckled humorlessly, “...not, ‘your Order?’ You seem to have seized great authority in the vacuum left by the First Council, Brethon. I’ve not forgotten our youth, and the things you said when you returned from the Outer Rim with a broken mind-”

A pained smile. Blood on the stones. A night of fire. Darkness and madness...

“...not your fault, Ari...not...your...”

Red spilled from the edge of his vision. The Shadow reared as if to strike at the one who reminded him of the worst day in his wretched life. “You would dare-?”

They were saved from disaster by Jennir, interposing himself between the two of them. “Cease, both of you! We are already divided without coming to each other’s throats. Stop antagonizing each other. It’s clear that you aren’t going to agree on anything. I don’t know what bad blood you have between the two of you, but that’s enough!”

Hurodda, bastard that he was, remained impassive and sympathetic as Larid struggled to regain control of his temper. Jennir turned to him, asking, “If you aren’t going to fight, Master Hudorra, then what are you going to do?”

His eyes twinkled with a mirthless amusement. “Master Giett once remarked that an individual skilled in the Force could make a comfortable living as a gambler.”

Larid’s emotions were still a hurricane. He barely had the urge to snort, let alone chastise his old ‘friend’ for wasting his talents. A gambler? Decades spent mastering the Force, attuning themselves to the Light Side...and using it to win cards and slots.

“...fine. Fine!” Laird had to resist the urge to spit as the pair's attention returned back to him. “Out of respect for the Jedi you once were, I’ll leave the girl be. Get out of my sight, card hustler. I hope you enjoy your ill-gained riches.”

(cont.)
>>
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To his supreme irritation, the ghost of what might have been a smile tugged at Hudorra’s mouth. “That’s all I could ever wish for. But should the order rise from the ashes, then I will once again take up my lightsaber. Until then, the galaxy will have to get along without my sword.”

With a bow to both of them, he departed with a farewell, “May the Force be with you, Dass Jennir, Brethon Larid...”

...bastard. Larid could only imagine the expression on his face as he watched the Bonthan disappear into the crowd. Turning to the remaining Jedi, he gruffly said, “...thank you.”

“Think nothing of it,” came the reply. “It’s been a rough two weeks for all of us.”

“...you said you intend to fight. Then-”

Jennir shook his head. “I’m afraid I’m already committed elsewhere. Had I not been, I would have accepted your offer in a swift instant.”

Someone was screwing with Brethon Larid. There couldn’t have been any other explanation. Someone, somewhere, somehow, had enough power to influence reality to rip three Jedi away from him when he needed them the most. Three Jedi that, for all he knew, would be dead in a few month’s time.

“...I don’t suppose I can ask about the promise?” he asked brusquely. A promise so important that it overruled the preservation of the Jedi Order...but that thought went unvoiced.

Jennir nodded. “New Plympto. Separatist world. I owe the Nosaurian’s a debt of gratitude for taking me in after my Clones turned on me. I can’t go off in good conscience and abandon them to the tender ‘mercies’ of the Empire.”

A just and noble cause, befitting of a Jedi. Damn him, but Larid couldn’t hate the man for his reason. Still, even if he didn’t know the exact logistics of the respective forces and the strengths they brought to bear against each other, the Shadow could make a cold, logical guess as to the outcome of that altercation.

“...you know that’s a battlefront you’re going to lose,” he warned.

“...I won’t know until I try,” answered the general.

“New Plympto is in the Core Worlds. The second the Empire consolidates, they’ll crush your resistance with nothing short of extreme prejudice.”

He hid his insecurities well. But his voice was filled with determination, as he repeated, “...I still have to try.”

There was no reasoning. With an irritated huff, Larid gave his benediction, if not his approval. “Then may the Force be with you, Dass Jennir.”

“I certainly hope so.” Turning back towards the Temple, the general frowned. “...you weren’t serious about the stuffed animal, were you?”

“Deadly,” the Shadow answered.

“...how old is your padawan?”

“Twenty-five galactic standard.” At the bemused look Jennir threw his way, Larid shrugged, suddenly in a better mood than he was before. “That, and I wouldn’t be a good teacher if I didn’t bring my Younglings back some homework.”

(cont.)
>>
>>4245327
Hudorra is a fool and a testament as to why the old order died,his conviction that the order will be reborn is foolish,by who will it be reborn if everyone abandons it,jennirs goal is noble yet it is stupid given where the planet is located, i hope he changes his mind yet i know that will not happen given the normal jedi mindset
>>
>>4245327
this is the on-screen Jedi competency curse. the more Jedi are on-screen at any given moment, the more incompetent and stupid they will appear. conversely, a single jedi will always be operating a heroic capacity, or even more than that.
>>
>>4245327
>But should the order rise from the ashes, then I will once again take up my lightsaber.
Oh fuck off you sanctimonious prick.
>>
>>4245428
man i hope our master picks up that padawan,because fuck hurodda
>>
>>4245428
>>4245443
Yeah it's one thing to choose to go into hiding and not fight but don't straight up tell someone that you're totally gonna protect a defenseless padawan (And I'm saying defenseless because if our ass can't comprehend anything weaponwise outside of a lightsaber what do you think she's capable of) even though you told the kid to get the fuck out and disappear and dropped her sorry ass faster than a pump'n dump you're not making yourself look like the bigger man.
With that being said we are going to need to learn other weapon skills.
>>
>>4245518
Correction, we technically have SOME measure of skill with melee weapons, but my point still stands. Hudorra sent what is a defenseless kid into a city filled with crime and people looking to make a quick buck.
>>
>>4245518
I'm betting that Separatist Commodore might have some fencing skills (which if we combine with force weapon could help us turn into space Errol Flynn), and the clones can teach us how to use that Mando Blaster we got.
>>
I will say though, from a story perspective this scene with Larid does show the surviving view points of the jedi post order 66 to their extreme.

Jedi that got merk'd: Try to do the standard "heroic" thing on the front doorsteps of an evil overlord and get promptly killed
Hudorra: Don't do a damn thing and go into hiding to let the problem fix itself
Jennir: Commit to an obvious resistance without much support from the other worlds
Larid: Try to gather "power" in hiding so that your rebellion can actually survive
In any other story that's not starwars, Larid's plan would have the most strength behind it. However because this is starwars any large gathering of jedi will end with Darth Vader kicking down the doors and butchering everything there because "muh paddy", "muh sand" and "muh spinning that's a good trick".

>>4245563
Let's hope we'll get them offworld in time so we can grab those skills because that would be really nice to have.
>>
>>4245563
I mean Makashi is basically the fencing form for star wars. It's designed based around classical fencing. Given how good FArren is at it I doubt he needs the help. She'd need to be DAMN good to better him.
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>>4245327
They parted ways after that, disappearing in opposite directions after a final farewell. Jennir had tried to promise to seek the refuge he’d spoken of after his business on New Plympto, but Larid adamantly refused to disclose the location. The risk of the Sith tracking him down through the general was too high.

But if Jennir survived, and the Shadow happened to be nearby...

That was a different story. And yes, he sourly thought, he’d go save the bastard Kai if need be.

Just a little over forty, and his heart’s going soft...

The Shadow waited until nightfall, lurking on a building adjacent to the Temple as darkness fell across Coruscant. The Clones were still adding bodies to the pyre, and the fire continued to burn high into the evening skies. He offered a silent prayer, a song of mourning for the mass of bodies that were once his brothers and sisters.

“...not your fault...not your fault...”

...it hit too close. The flames in the night...the screams only he could hear. The stench of burning flesh and blaster fire always took him back there, to the fool he once was, and always would be for the rest of his life.

Underneath the shadow of a passing freighter, he threw out his grappling hook, rappelling underneath its hull and sticking fast to its surface. When the freighter passed close to the temple, he released the mechanism, and descended from the sky like a bat out of hell. His robes caught the wind, slowing his descent, allowing him to gently glide onto a window ledge unoccupied by Clone troopers.

Larid had never spent too long in the Temple after attaining Knighthood, but it still felt like a punch in the gut to walk through the dark and empty hallways. There were still some bodies that hadn’t been accounted for or otherwise thrown onto the pyre. Temple guards slumped against the walls, masters protecting younglings...

He couldn’t stop to close their eyes, to give them some modicum of respect before they were thrown onto the pyre. If he did...his emotions were already in disarray from that bastard’s words. Giving into sentimentality would only tip him over the edge.

But, he digressed as he hid behind a pillar, slowing his breath as a patrol went down the hallway. Had he the crew and the space, he would have taken everything. As it stood, he had only himself, five empty datapads, three empty holocrons, and a large satchel bag slung across the back of his cloak. For the stealth capabilities it had, there wasn’t any way for the Bantha to dock without tripping an alert.

He had to be careful as to what he took. There was no doubt that sooner or later, someone would come, defiling the archives and relics with their filthy hands. What couldn’t be taken had to be destroyed. But there was so much to retrieve, and not enough space. The histories of the Jedi and the Sith, the knowledge of masters stored away in holocrons...

(cont.)
>>
https://m.youtube.com/watch?feature=youtu.be&v=d7VMi86BwY4
>>
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Tempting as it was to visit the Archives, the security room was the first place he visited. Answers were needed to sooth the burning theories and crackpot ideas that his mind were storming. The bodies he’d passed bore the marks of both blaster fire and lightsaber injuries. The Sith would not have seen the destruction of the Jedi’s home without being there in person.

But which one? Dooku had been killed above Coruscant. It could only have been either his master, Darth Sidious, or the replacement he’d taken. If they hadn’t been deleted, then they would surely hold the answer...

“...someone had been here before...” He was surprised to find that the security room had been disturbed. Kneeling, he traced the outlines of dust, analyzing the footprints. “...no Clones...too light for their armor, not nearly stiff enough. A tall male, long stride...small, diminutive steps supported by a cane-” It struck him like a lightning bolt, and he nearly fell to the ground. “Master Yoda?”

The Grandmaster of the Jedi Order...the wisest of the members of the First Council...the one person who knew the full truth of the worst day of his life...

“He’s alive...” Larid whispered, his joy bordering on hysterics, “...Master Yoda is alive...he was here! Not too long ago...I’ll need to find him...”

The euphoric high that settled about him made him giddy and foolish, but not nearly enough to impede his duties. He sliced into the computer terminal, searching for what might have brought the Grand Master to the lowly room. With a deftness born from years of hacking, he retrieved the information of the last user to login...

“Obi-Wan Kenobi?”

He’d never met the man, but he knew of him. Master of the ‘Chosen One’. But Kenobi’s official and unofficial record spoke highly of him before the Clone Wars had broken out. The Xanatos incident...the confrontation in Naboo with Darth Maul...a shame that he hadn’t met him sooner! Kenobi would have made an excellent Shadow...but what was he doing here with Master Yoda?

“Now...” he paused, aligning his telemetry with the footage taken during the attack, “Let’s take a look...”

As Brethon Larid watched the recordings, and beheld the Sith Lords Darth Sidious and Darth Vader, the joy of Yoda and Kenobi’s survival left his body, and the full extent of his failure as a Jedi Shadow came crashing down upon him.

=INTERLUDE END=

>>What did Master Larid do with the missing padawan?
>In direct defiance with Master Hudorra’s wishes, he pursued Noirah.
>Respecting the wishes of Master Hudorra, he left Noirah alone.

[VOTE OPEN FOR THREE HOURS]

I got D&D tonight with the boys, but I'll be posting late after dark.
>>
>>4245699
>In defiance of Hudorra he shadowed the girl, made sure she was safe, and to take her in if she still had the heart to fight.

If she's broken we can't take her back, but if she's not and going to get herself killed anyways we might as well.
>>
>>4245699
>Respecting the wishes of Master Hudorra, he left Noirah alone.
Keeping in mind of course, that Hudorra never mentioned that Noirah couldn't try to find him...
>>
>In direct defiance with Master Hudorra’s wishes, he pursued Noirah.
>>
>>4245699
>Respecting the wishes of Master Hudorra, he left Noirah alone.
We could at least afford that much.
>>
>>4245699
>>Respecting the wishes of Master Hudorra, he left Noirah alone.
>>
>>4245699
>Respecting the wishes of Master Hudorra, he left Noirah alone.
>>
>>4245699
>>In direct defiance with Master Hudorra’s wishes, he pursued Noirah.
>>
>>4245699
>In direct defiance with Master Hudorra’s wishes, he pursued Noirah
Hudorra wasn't even her master.
Fuck him.
>>
>>4245699
>In direct defiance with Master Hudorra’s wishes, he pursued Noirah.
>>
>>4245723
Afford him what?Hudorra wants to abandon everything and go gamble and wait for the order to be reborn when he does nothing to help in the process,keep in mind that we need all the jedi we can find
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>>4245699
>In direct defiance with Master Hudorra’s wishes, he pursued Noirah.
I'll be having a laugh if Hudorra is willing to kill Larid over this.
>>
>>4245709
Also supporting this. Gotta make sure she's at least repairable in the headspace department.
>>
>>4245699
>>Respecting the wishes of Master Hudorra, he left Noirah alone.
>>
>>4245377
Inverse Ninja Law
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>>4245699
>In direct defiance with Master Hudorra’s wishes, he pursued Noirah.
Some training is still training
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>>4245699
>In direct defiance with Master Hudorra’s wishes, he pursued Noirah.

Though not entirely to recruit her. Sure I'd like to extend the offer, but more importantly:

Hudorra just left a girl with no family, no money, and assuming she was raised in the temple no street smarts on fucking Coruscant by herself. Even if she doesn't want to be a Jedi anymore I feel like we shouldn't just go off by herself without some money or pointing her in the right direction so she lands well you know?
>>
>>4245699
>>In direct defiance with Master Hudorra’s wishes, he pursued Noirah.
>>
>>4245699
>In direct defiance with Master Hudorra’s wishes, he pursued Noirah.
>>
>>4245699
>In direct defiance with Master Hudorra’s wishes, he pursued Noirah.

>>4245886
He did give her money though.
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>>4245896
Yeah in Space New York
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>>4245699
>Pursue Noirah
not to recruit her. But she DOES need to learn how to survive on Coruscant, she's gonna get herself killed with only a bag of money to her name.

Picking a fight with Hudorra now doesn't sound like such a good idea, but maybe later...
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>>4245886
>>4245920
I'll agree with us perusing but not recruiting her. Gathering a bunch of Jedi together at this time is going to get a bunch of them killed, and if Larid doesn't realize this, then he should go down as the dumbest Jedi Shadow in the books.

Or possibly one of the best Inquisitorius recruiters...
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>>4245920
Honestly viewing the wiki on her ,it only says that hudorra says encouraging words about surviving,going underground and waiting the rebirth of the jedi,the money he gave her shouldnt be much given that he obtained them on toola and they were hunted by the clones at the time so he probably didn't get much,the other thing is that she believes that hudorra and her migth be the only two jedi still alive
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>>4245935
>inb4 Vader and Malorum pull up to our hideout, kill the masters, take the kids, and glass the site from orbit
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>>4245699
>In direct defiance with Master Hudorra’s wishes, he pursued Noirah.
>>
So his plan is to run from the empire and go into hiding and he goes to Coruscant because ????????
He doesn't have an ulterior motive here and he brought a fucking Padawan too.
This guy is a cock gargling faggot.
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>>4246018
>he goes to Coruscant because ????????
Want there something about Coruscant that helped Papa Palpy conceal his power level, or am I misremembering?
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>>4246135
There's a nexus there, and all of the Jedi create kind of a cacophony. But he's also likely the best user of the force at cloaking their presence ever.
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>>4245896
All he did with that money is put a target on her back, The man is a moron.
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>>4246280
Its not even much money, he gathered them on toola when they were getting hunted by the clones
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>>4246290
It's space new york and she's a fucking jedi padawan with no actual life skills who he just told to forget literally everything.

He's a massive knob and a coward.
>>
Wew, back from DnD. Things went awry when the party discovered a tunnel during a rehearsal for Turian Othello and a conspiracy to kidnap a theater patron, but it all resolved itself nicely after a shootout.

And thank you to everybody who wished me happy birthday.

>>4246018
In the comic, Hurodda came back to Coruscant because it's SOP for Jedi to return to the temple in case bad things happen.
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>>4246418
>Turian Othello
What are you playing and why haven’t you storytimed it?
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>>4246418
Happy late Birthday. My favorite man
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>>4246507
Every other Saturday, I get together with my buddies and play DnD, and I alternate with my friend as to who's the DM. He DM's an Eberon-esque setting, complete with a flying airship named the "Hindentanic" (which unfortunately lives up to its namesakes quite spectacularly), and I DM a Mass Effect campaign with a "Cowboy Bebop"/"Firefly" aesthetic using a homebrew 5th Edition system I found on the internet.

Taking place between ME1 and ME2, my campaign revolves around a motley crew doing odd jobs for a rising syndicate called "The Family", a new organization trying to muscle in on the power struggle in the Terminus Systems. With their corvette, the Valkyrie, and totally-not-an-A.I. companion named Galateus, they take on whatever work they can find so long as it pays the bills and doesn't go against the Family's interests.

The crew of the Valkyrie:
- Wrend, the Krogan Sentinel. A veteran of the Krogan Wars, part of all-tankbred unit called the "Bad Batch" and all-around badass with a warhammer and shotgun. Former Blue Suns mercenary and doting father to Nyxanna.
- Nuna'Nulas nar Naenna or "Nunu", Quarian Engineer. A cynical young woman who experienced the worst of what the galaxy had to offer on her Pilgrimage. Occasionally pickpockets, talks the most to her pet drone.
- Septim "Birdface" Colles, Turian Soldier. Former bounty hunter for the Turian Hierarchy, ace pilot for both spaceships and speeders, burgeoning author for an all dextro cookbook. Degenerate weeb with a passion for idol music.
- Nyxanna Alara, Asari Vanguard. A no-nonsense young Maiden on a journey of self-discovery, pondering why her blood boils hotter than her sisters'. Daughter of Wrend, she seems to have inherited her father's talent for violence.
- Galateus, the shipboard "V.I." in charge of managing subsystems and subroutines of the Valkyrie. Elects to be paid in RAM by the crew, and invests in the stock market on their behalf.

>As for where Turian Othelo comes in...
While waiting for their next official mission from the Family, the crew of the Valkyrie picked up a missing person's case from their handler, the Mysterious Patron. A reclusive, eccentric Alliance scientist who believed Commander Shepard about the Reapers had begun to design a superweapon capable of punching through the armor of a ship similar to Sovereign. They had a fondness for watching "Shakespeare in Space", a local program put together by an Asari-Human directing team, and suddenly disappeared after the conclusion of Act IV during the 14-hour performance of Elcor Hamlet.

Investigating the theater on the Citadel, the crew of the Valkyrie found a secret tunnel hidden behind the private booth that the scientist liked to frequent. As it so happened, the production company was rehearsing their upcoming production, Turian Othello during their investigation. But what they didn't expect to find was an automatic turret behind the wall...needless to say, rehearsal was cancelled.
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>>4246418
>return to temple in the midst of galaxy wide jedi purge
Holy shit he is a literal retard.
>>
>>4246982
>later on he 1v1s Vader and fucking dies.
Wow.
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>>4246992
>Runs away and then tries to fight Vader
My sides
>>
https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=d7VMi86BwY4&t=173s

does our master know anything about this?
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>>4247027
No because it didn't happen lol.
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>>4247027
>>>>>>>Canon
Vader yeeted Jocasta Nu when he first stepped foot into the archives.
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>>4247115
Are you saying yours is greater than canon or his is?
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>>4247945
His is the Canon one. In Legends, Vader marches into the archives at the head of the clone column, which is where the massacre really begins.

You can play this scene in Battlefront 2.
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>>4246657
Update when?
>>
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>>4248902
Working on it now.
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>>Meanwhile, on Kakarit...

It’s with the tenderness of hauling a sack of corn that you turn an unconscious Arotta on her stomach. The mess of her back is a healer’s worst nightmare, and you never were adept at medicine beyond applying bandages and administering painkillers. The bacta patches in your kit should keep the wounds from going septic, but Force knows what other injuries lie underneath her skin. At the very least, once this whole mess is over, she’s going to be spending a few days in a tank.

As you strip the blood-stained rags that once might have been a Jedi’s robe, it occurs to you that this is the first time you’ve seen her naked outside of one of your violent trysts. That said, the worst half of your impulses takes a backseat as you examine her body with a clinical, detached veneer that Master Larid might have been proud of.

She’s definitely lost weight. You could tell that in an instant when you’d carried her back towards the dome and pedestal. While you wouldn’t call Arotta too curvaceous, there’s a lean and wiry quality about her that hadn’t been there before. Little to none of her body fat remains; the breasts she’d always been fond of shoving into your face had definitely gotten smaller.

It couldn’t have been too long before her body would’ve started to cannibalize her musculature. A few days at the most, or a week, depending on the diet she’d been getting. The fact that she’s still running around proves that there’s a clean source of water lying around. But she’d still been losing weight, starving in spite of her continued survival since her departure from the camp and arrival in the Heart.

No wonder she called you ‘fresh meat’, and perhaps in the more literal sense of the word as opposed to the teasing overtures you’d often heard in foreplay. You could hardly imagine any wildlife within the area that wasn’t tainted or otherwise claimed by Jombarl. Even with all the chaos in the wake of the betrayal, you still have the weight you put on during your sabbatical with Master Larid and the Younglings. You aren’t a five-star meal as much as you’re a walking buffet.

...this sudden realization has little to do with you suddenly emptying your bag of rations and setting them alongside her body. That, and the distant memory of pre-spaceflight togruta being notorious for their carnivorous tendencies. No, sir.

But, you digress. One you clean up her wounds as best you can with what little you have, you turn her onto her side and begin the next stage of her treatment.

The laxative that Bos had given to the Clones and Elbawarak came as a powdered substance. Asking her what went into it only resulted in a bark of laughter. It isn’t as much a shamanka secret as much as the patient is better off not knowing what went into the pot. But ingredients aside...

(cont.)
>>
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Shucking off your outermost robe, you take one of your canteens and a metallic cup. It’s easy enough to tear off a strip, placing it into the cloth as you pour water and the powder into the container, stirring thoroughly until the powder completely dissolves.

Once the rag’s completely soaked through, you lift it from the container, taking care not to spill a single drop as you bring it towards Arotta’s lips. Taking one end of the cloth between your teeth, and holding the other in your good hand, you wring out the fabric, dripping the solution slowly against her mouth.

You aren’t a Jedi Healer. But even you know that it’s a bad idea to administer liquids to an unconscious patient without proper precautions. Mind you, what you’re doing is something for victims of dehydration, but you’re still careful. Massaging her throat would definitely trigger her reflex to swallow. Propping her on her side prevents what excess water she couldn’t swallow from trickling out, and not going into her lungs.

Drowning to death on a former desert planet would be an awfully shitty way to go.

>>Acquired new skill!
>Medicine 1 (Intellect) – a skill used to treat wounds as minor as scrapes and bruises to life-threatening injuries.

>>Skill has gained a rank!
>Vigilance 2 (Resolve)

It takes the better part of an hour of constant supervision before you’re satisfied with how much Arotta was able to swallow. With a silent apology to the statue on the floor, you lift up the togruta and place her on the pedestal it once inhabited, stomach down. The drab, black cloak of a Jedi Shadow is gently draped over her back to allow the bacta patches to work their magic in peace.

You take a moment to collect yourself, and wipe the sweat off your bow. There’s no telling how long she’ll be knocked out. If the Clones and Elbawarak are anybody to go by, Bos’ laxative powder works relatively quickly. Granted, it has to fight through three whole Eeche fruit and two months of exposure to Jombaral...

“Heh...” you murmur to no-one as you collapse against the pedestal. The high of the earlier combat has fled your system, leaving you lightly winded. “...some emotional closure this is turning out to be...”

If nothing else, you can't wait for her to wake up so you can sort out the mess of your emotions.

As the midday sun reaches its zenith, the lighting in the sewers brightens to a more comfortable degree. Gradually, the end of the corridor reveals itself to not be as empty of a dead end as you had previously thought. With a frown, you stand up, brushing the dust off your digs as you inspect the rest of the little shrine and dome.

In the dimness of the early morning, there was no way for you to have seen them. Along the entirety of the sewer walls, what appear to be a series of violent lettering and images have been etched into the stoneworks. Not etched, but...carved as if someone had sloppily taken a plasma torch to the walls. Relatively new-

(cont.)
>>
>>4249544
>nudity, attempted murder, and vandalism
Can she get any more scummy?
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>>4249623
You try living in Space!'Nam and see how many walls are left unstained by feces.
>>
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>>4249623
She's a jedi and an alien, what can you expect?
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>>4249544
>unconscious qt alien gf is left face down in a cave to shit herself uncontrollably.
god, I love this quest.
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>>4249644
Oh no! Our cloak!
>>
>>4249644
>And then we punish her by handwashing our cloak
Well there's one way of paying back the guy that saved your life.
>>
>>4249656
*by making her handwash
Hurr I can into english gud.
>>
>>4249644
Okay, I laughed.
>>
>>4249656
By holding hands?
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>>4249713
>Holding hands with the person who may or may not be currently shitting on our cloak after we saved their life
Personally I'd rather hold hands with Female Not-Obi Wan but if you're insistent on holding hands with Arotta then she's gonna have to climb a big metaphorical mountain for that to happen.
>>
>>4249737
Good news, you can grab at her carbonite encased hands and pretend you're holding each other's hands. Bad news is she'll be silently screaming in abject terror the entire time.
>>
>>4249755
It's a long way to the top if you wanna rock and roll.
>>
>>4249737
Already went through the trouble of rescuing her,guess she will become pregnant after handholding
>>
>>4249544
>It takes the better part of an hour of constant supervision before you’re satisfied with how much Arotta was able to swallow.
Lewd
>>
>>4249890
>just big balled problems
>>
>it's been a year since the last BBR and we just stripped a girl down and forced laxatives on her in this quest
Are you doing okay Kaz? Is everything alright? Is this a cry for help?
>>
>>4249902
It's the jungle Anon. It turns men into monsters and monsters into men.
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>>4249909
Kaz is in the jungle? Well let's get him out of there!
>>
>>4249902
The laxatives thing is getting weird desu. Why did that have to be the cure?
>>
>>4249966
I don’t know, but we definitely shouldn’t check Kaz’s search history
>>
>>4249983
>Inb4 it's not actually his fetish but he knows people who do have it as a fetish
You should be afraid of the man who can make people believe in a lie.
>>
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>>4249544
Your eyes flick down to the extra lightsaber that hangs in your sling, then back to the scratches on the wall. It seems that as she gradually lost her senses, Arotta had taken care to at least leave some record of her time in the Heart. Whether or not this had been done so as to serve as an anchor of her sanity or a message to whoever found her is still uncertain.

“Walls have eyes...” you murmur, tracing the haphazard lettering. The chill that settles in your stomach is mostly from the surprisingly cold and dank sewers. “...sounds can smell...tastes that feel...Mother twists everything and all...”

Some of the older marks are still somewhat decipherable, marking a less aggressive approach that Jombaral might have taken. “She’s inside...crawling around...twisting my memories...begging for me to join...speaking through the corpses of the Clones...”

But the carrot clearly didn’t work. The overwhelming majority of the scribbles are of Jombaral applying the stick. “̸͕̳̇Ĝ̴͍̂E̶̡̧̛̱̬͛̾́T̸͍͙̰̻͆͛̆̃ ̴̝͚̂̐Ȍ̸͖̣̼̥Ǔ̷̦̗̋̑͑ͅT̴̳̯́̊͜ ̸͎̭̠͗̓̒O̴͚̙̙͊͝F̴̬̐́ ̵̡̻̣̀̂͋͝M̵̧͇̯̀́̃̕Y̸̜̩̺̊ͅ ̴̬̙̯͑̂̆̕H̵̙̺̄́͋͝E̵͈͆͂A̴̭͑͌D̸̟͉̮̼͆,̷̡͇̓̐͆ ̵̪̼̣̄̓̌G̷̩̟̓͋̔͝Ě̸̳̹͒͂ͅŤ̷̰̭͘͝ ̸̛͙͐͛ͅǪ̴͂͘Ǔ̶̬̀̏͘T̵͉͆̓͘͠ ̷̰̙͚͑̒̂̆Ŏ̴̜̾͝F̷̥̯̙̌̆́̓ ̸͉̓͝͠Ḿ̵̝͚̋̈́Ÿ̶̢̯́͊ ̵͚̼͚̄́̊͝H̵̠̙̑̄͝ͅE̷̟̞̰͛̊A̷͖̘͑́͑͑D̶͓͙̱̈́͛-̸̳̱̺͍̀̒"̵̻̣̣̽

Idly, you notice that the floor hasn’t escaped marking. The consistency and depth of the scars indicate that she’d been either fighting off sewer monsters...or swinging at nothing. The absence of any corpses makes you suspect the latter.

The scrawls continue: “...digging through memories...wearing their flesh to tempt me...Master Kosa...Commander Skipp and Marjor Marcs... join us...join us...” You take a moment to blink, rubbing your eyes as you squint at the continuing passage. “...killed them all...had to kill them...they weren’t real...but their blood felt so wet...

“...worst was the idiot...the pink-skinned idiot...” Her scrawl shows a noticeable sign of trembling. “...Mother’s words...through him...forgiveness...stupidity...wasted years...a shoulder to rest if only...if only...surrendered...”

...there isn’t any rhyme or reason as to the scrawls along the wall. Lucid passages transition seamlessly into insane ramblings without any warning. At certain points, it looks as if she’d written something, only to slash it away and write atop it with a renewed frenzy. The sight of it all is more than enough to dispel any lingering animosity you have towards your old rival.

(cont.)
>>
>>4250034
Awww she does care about us.
Also holy shit, I hope she's ok.
Fucking asshole plant hivemind.
Gonna be nice when this planet has the surface texture of a god damn marble.
Based Palpy.
>>
>>4250034
>nudity, attempted murder, vandalism, plant-based schizophrenia
>plant-based schizophrenia
>>
>>4250043
Palpatine did nothing wrong with glassing this world.
>>
>>4250051
Palpatine did literally everything right with glassing this world.
The only thing that could improve things is if we replaced glassing with Death Star Superlasering.
>>
>>4250043
>>4250051
>>4250052
But guys, the lizard people! They count for something right? Helping us in our hour of need, potentially teaching us pyrokenisis, hating plants. Can't we take 'em with us?
>>
>>4250068
Their sacrifice will not be in vain.
>>
>>4250068
Kroq-gar is based. Let's bring his race?
>>
>>4250068
Man,palpatine is going to glass this planet either way even if it has a lizardmen population,the best we can do is take them with us
>>
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>>4250034
But between the disturbing logs, your investigation leads you towards the back of the pedestal, where the statue lies. Brushing aside the shards of stone and rock, you examine what could only be a map etched onto the floor. It’s just as crude as it is not to scale of the Heart, but it gives you enough details about the overall layout.

The latest scratch matches up with the nursery that she’d destroyed as you’d arrived. Even in her madness, there appeared to be some semblance of tactics and hit-and-run operations she had been performing. It wasn’t all just a meaningless slaughter for the sake of it.

The sole message scrawled onto the back pedestal is surprisingly clear. If you were a betting man, you’d place money on this being slowly pieced together upon Jombaral’s departure from Kakarit on that clone escape pod.

“... sUnDEr tHe rOoTs... aScENd tHe sPiRe...eNkInDlE tHe gOdSeYe...bRiNg dOwN tHe SkIeS...kILl tHe HeArT...bRiNg bLesSeD qUiEt...”

It isn’t too hard to walk backwards through the cryptic mantra. Destabilize the foundation of the ziggurat. At the top of the spire is something that will allow for the destruction of the dome. And somehow, kindling this ‘Godseye’ will allow you to kill the Heart of Kakarit.

Attempting to establish a secure line with either Nest’s End or Octavia results in nothing. The amount of interference that the dome is putting out isn’t that dissimilar to being underground. And you have significant doubts that the master of the Heart, even if it isn’t Jombaral, would allow you to easily exit the same way you came in.

At the very least, it seems that Arotta had already accomplished what she’d set out to do. Although how destabilizing the foundation would allow you to get into the spire. There had been a gate at the front...which had been locked, as far as you can remember. She must’ve been using the sewers as both a sanctuary and forward base to explore the temple’s infrastructure.

“Sorry, Arotta,” you apologize as you take the last of her thermal detonators. From your pocket, you afix a rebreather to her face and place her lightsaber down by her side. She’s going to need it far more than you will. “...I’ll make it up to you when we get out of here, okay?”

You take a moment to take a picture of the map, gathering as many details as you can from the labyrinthine design. There isn’t any time for you to waste getting lost and retracing the paths that she’d already been to...there.

This path looks promising. It goes around the ziggurat, gradually ascending tier-by-tier. Pin-point strikes with thermal detonators had collapsed or otherwise obliterated the rubble or hostile flora blocking the path. And you have two extra detonators in case of additional obstacles.

With a final look towards your unconscious rival, you hastily depart and descend into the temple depths...

>>Roll 1d100 Encounter.
>Best out of three.
>>
Rolled 34 (1d100)

>>4250091
>>
Rolled 88 (1d100)

>>4250091
>>
Rolled 1 (1d001)

>>4250091
>>
Rolled 34 (1d100)

>>4250091
>>
>>4250098
I'm onto your schemes
>>
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>>4250098
Oi m8, you got a loicense for dat dice?
>>
>>4250098
Clever Girl.
>>
>>4250098
>1d001
Oh
Oh good I was worried.
>>
>>4250107
Me too man ,the moment I saw it I said fuck....then is saw what he rolled with
>>
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>>4250098
>>
>>4250116
Kek. Even Kaz got hit with that fake 1 heart attack.
>>
>>4250120
It's so simple, but beautifully executed.
>>
Rolled 62 (1d100)

>>4250116
Just curious, can you gives us a hint as to how would that would have played out?
>>
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>>4250124
"Not pleasant"
>>
>>4250140
So from vader ugliness to Palpatine ugliness how bad would it have been?
>>
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>>4250145
Yes.
>>
>>4250146
.....kaz you are scaring me with that beautiful mind of yours,write more cant wait to see what you pull ou of your mind you git
>>
>>4250146
Kaz, Why do you always do this to us
>>
Man, this quest leaves me with a craving. Anyone know where I can get most?
>>
>>4250390
*moar
Fuck you autocorrect
>>
>>4250390
Go to Sup/TG/ and search up Homeless Mutant Quest, it’s a quest of quality and the ending is to die for
>>
>>4250395
You're a snake. Truly.
>>
>>4250395
I know HMQ. I was talking about more SW stuff.
>>
>>4250461
I don't know many on qst or tg but there's another site called fiction.live , they've got a load of good SW quests. I especially recomend BOOTS, and its sequel Mandalorian Son.
>>
>>4250478
>they've got a load of good SW quests
They have no good Star Wars quests. Boots is the closest but it's shaky.
>>
>>4250784
Then what do you describe as "a good SW quest"? The definition is subjective my man.
>>
>>4250784
Well they have one. Crusty's is good.
>>
>>4250784
Knight of Nothing is a great star wars quest. Just moved to akun from /qst/. Lots of hard choices without handholding from the QM. The player count is pretty low which is comfy but some more players for discussion would be nice.
>>
>>4251283
>akun
>>
>>4251315
Yeah, I know. I just followed that quest there. There's been some minor faggotry from the locals but nothing crazy. Still a worthwhile read.
>>
We should try to track down Ahsoka at some point.
Invite her to our new Jedi Order.

If we get the lizards off the planet that also means we are the savior of an entire race.
We are the most overqualified Padawan.
>>
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>>4251400
>null-dubs confirm TWO togruta gfs
>>
>>4251400
>Inb4 Feral Torgruta Harem
>>
Togruta are just discount Twi'lek and Twi'lek are absolute bottom-feeder tier.
>>
>>4251520
Togruta >>>>>>>> Twi'lek
>>
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>>4251530
>>
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>>4251543
>>
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>>4251549
>>
>>4250095
>>4250096
>>4250099
The fact that the pathway is empty does little to comfort you as you race through the half-sunken corridors and rubble-strewn hallways. Your sole consolation is that with every stairway you ascend, the scent of ammonia within the air gradually diminishes. Of course, with the air quality improving, the more likely you’d be running into any of the Children of Jombaral.

Right on cue, just as you think you’re about to break completely out of the sewers, you nearly run head-long into a squad of Clone troopers as they take a corner. Both of you are equally surprised, but you react just a fraction quicker as you activate your lightsaber before they can level their guns. From the stains and filth adorning their armor, the ossifying flesh on their face, and the eyes that glowed an ominous green, the poor bastards must be part of the contingent that gave their lives to protect Arotta.

It’s not surprising that they would be patrolling the lower levels, you think to yourself with a grimace, deflecting a blaster bolt as you dive behind a column. Busted armor or not, they’d be better protected than the rest of the Children against the ammonia...

Although, it does raise the question of how they never encountered Arotta or her hiding place. Then again, considering how much she’d fallen into that whole “predator versus prey” mindset...

Thralldom under the entity hasn’t exactly been good for their reflexes or aim. But their lack of trigger discipline is compensated by the sheer unpredictability of where their shots will land. The currents of the Force are muddied about them, dampening the potency of your own Force powers.

“Get...out...of...my...way!” It’s only a small flick of your hand with your bad arm, but you manage to pull their weapons out of their admittedly weak grips. They don’t even stop to pick up their armaments, electing to rush you with the sheer weight of their numbers.

It ends about as well as you might have expected. One incredibly close-quarters struggle later finds all of the Clones dead at your feet. Your lighstaber cauterized their wounds, but there are still scrapes and openings for corrupted blood to leak from their bodies. The walkway beneath your feet begins to bubble and smoke as the tainted fluids eat into the stoneworks.

...didn’t you see a holovid like this, once?

“Sorry,” you apologize to the bodies, sprinting towards the hallway they’d come out of. “...and thank you for saving her.”

They offer no response.

The deeper you venture, the more apparent Arotta’s work in ‘sundering the roots’ seems to have paid off. Tunnels once blocked entirely by rubble, impassible stone, and even tree roots the size of speeders have been completely opened, allowing you to squeeze through with varying degrees of success. Crawling is hell on your bad arm, but excitement dulls the pain. All you have to do is make sure that you don’t get too lost...

(cont.)
>>
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“...Farren...”

The air seems to shimmer for a brief moment, and you prepare for an attack against something like the herald. But as quickly as it happens, the moment passes, leaving you alone and unharmed in the relative darkness of the temple bowels. Shivering at the sensation of something crawling down your back, you continue your journey onwards...

The path leads you into an amphitheater of sorts, an open space that could have easily housed hundreds of Kakarit. It slopes gently downward, like a holo-theater of sorts, centered around an altar and statues of the indigenous gods. To your complete surprise, the room appears to have not only escaped taint from Jombaral, but remains in pristine condition. For all you know, the builders could have just finished its construction...

Sheathing your lightsaber, you cautiously cross-reference the map, confirming that this is the right direction you’re meant to go. According to Arotta, this should be the place...but she’d never gotten this far. But at the very least, there’s only one other exit on the far end of the amphitheater...

But you are not alone in the room.

In the center, an unconscious woman lies helpless upon the altar, bound by chains held fast against the altar. Facing her, with its back towards you, is a creature that could only be a Kakarit. Her head lolls dangerously limp as the creature manhandles her, arranging her as if she was no different than any of the various tools at his side: knives and hooks, wicked weapons and blades...

You tense, quickly hiding behind a nearby column as you try to process what you had just seen. A human woman and a Kakari, here in the Heart?! That’s impossible. The only things capable of surviving are either the Children themselves or soon-to-be infected! There hadn’t been any other women mentioned by Acting-Commander Marcs, and you sure as hell didn’t bring any passengers. Perhaps one of the technicians or young commanders from Octavia’s forces-

One of the ministrations causes the woman’s head to face in your direction, and you are utterly transfixed by her face. Hair the color of fresh snow comes down the side of her face, pooling gently around the shoulders of an immaculate white dress. Her features are soft and delicate...and somehow, you know that if she were to open her eyes...they’d be a deep and cerulean blue.

Just as your own hand go towards your own face, probing around your own eyes that hold the same color, the woman stirs to life. Far away as the two of you are, your gazes meet, if only for the quickest of moments. But even as you retreat behind the pillar, it’s too late.

“Farren!” the woman screams, thrashing against her chains, and the sound of her voice causes you to freeze dead in your tracks, and the Kakarit to stop its activities. What you’d dismissed as the wind, stress audio-hallucinations...it’s her voice. “Farren, don’t come any closer! It’s a trap, you shouldn’t-”

(cont.)
>>
>>4251216
>Crusty's is good
Crusty has been unironically dead since 2017.

>>4251283
>Knight of Nothing
Not familiar with it.
>>
Nope. Noooooope. Remember that the clone logs said they saw Jango Fetts Wife? This is more Mother bullshit. We need to get out or kill them both.
>>
>>4251759
...Hi, Jombaral.
>>
>>4251759
Hello obvious Force Entity that may or may not be Jombaral.
What's up?
You mind telling us what you're doing on that alter?
Before we throw a thermal detonator at you?
>>
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>>4251759
For her troubles, the native shaman (?) backhands her, and the noise rings out across the empty room. Fury the likes you’d never felt before suddenly wells up within you as the Kakarit picks up a length of leather hide. “Farren, turn back and forget about me! They’re waiting for you at the top of the Spire. They know what Arotta was trying to do! But there's another way to the Godseye towards the west-”

“Silence!” The woman’s screams are cut off as the native binds her mouth with an impromptu gag. It doesn’t stop her from thrashing against the restraints. Then, the Kakarit turns around, facing the direction of the hallway you’d came from. “It seems that we have an unexpected pilgrim to the Heart of Kakarit...”

You don’t answer. You can’t answer. Your heart is beating a million miles per hour, and if you opened your mouth, it might leap up and out of your throat.

“Show yourself, pilgrim!” the creature demands. It gestures to the tools at its side, and the Force thickens as a glaive leaps into its hands. Belatedly, you notice what appear to be sunstones embedded into the weapon...a proto-lightsaber, if you’d ever saw one.

The Shaman slams the haft into the ground, and the edge of the glaive lights up with a pillar of light. It emits a high-pitched whine as it slices through a stone column like a hot knife through a fresh loaf of bread.

“Turn back, pilgrim,” the Kakarit says, in a voice dripping with an oily contempt, “...turn back like the mad one, who was unable to behold what she saw upon the altar. There are countless ways to reach the Spire of the Godseye. The tunnel that I protect is but one of them.

"You are not the first to approach. Many have tried, all have fallen either to the False Mother or my Sunspear...you might be the first warm-blood I have ever killed.”

Even with the gag, the woman continues to scream and struggle. But within her eyes conveys a sincere and desperate plea for you to run away and don't look back...

>>What will you do?
>Continue on your path, and challenge the Kakarit Shaman.
>Heed the woman’s warnings and go back the way you came.
>Custom-option. [Write-in.]

[VOTE OPEN FOR TWO HOURS]
>>
>>4251806
No, anon, thermal detonators are for tree people and the herald, not hallucinations.
>>
>>4251816
>>Continue on your path, and challenge the Kakarit Shaman.
How dare you backhand my strangely well informed hallucination!
Your spear will make a good weapon for my droid, you lizard scum.
>>
>>4251816
>Continue on your path, and challenge the Kakarit Shaman.
>>
>>4251816
>Continue on your path, and challenge the Kakarit Shaman.
>>
>>4251816
why are they trying to interrupt each other?
>Relay what you heard from the woman, and confirm if the shaman heard it
>Make some force fire incase you need to breath in some purified air
>>
>>4251816
>Continue on your path, and challenge the Kakarit Shaman.

>>4251841
Isn't it obvious that this is a hallucination of Farren's mom trying to get him to waste time looking for another entrance?
>>
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>>4251816
>Continue on your path, and challenge the Kakarit Shaman.
Why yes we will take on Swoles-A-Lot with our broke ass arm!
>>
>>4251816
>Continue on your path, and challenge the Kakarit Shaman.
>"Hey, before we do this, could I just see those tool things over there? I just want to make sure you guys aren't hallucinations brought about by my parental issues."
>>
>>4251873
but they're BOTH telling him to try another entrance
>>
>>4251841
>>4251899
Also supporting.
>>
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>>4251816
>Continue on your path, and challenge the Kakarit Shaman.
Pft, nice try. If you were real there'd be no reason to stop us from firebombing this shitty place. Unless there is. Which doesn't matter because I don't like this place. Fuck this place.
>>
>>4251816
>using fire so openly
That's our trump card, dummies; the later we use it the better.
>>
Wait a minute. What if this is a attempt from Jombaral to convert us?
Oh wait, disregard that we already know.
>>
>>4251906
+1
>>
>>4251816
>Continue on your path, and challenge the Kakarit Shaman.
>>
>>4251816
>Continue on your path, and challenge the Kakarit Shaman.
>>
>>4251816
>Continue on your path, and challenge the Kakarit Shaman.
>>
>>4251906
+1
>>
I understand supporting >>4251899 but why support >>4251841, when he clearly heard what she said and using Force fire so quickly is just showing our hand to the enemy when you look at it from any angle?
>>
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>>4251830
>>4251836
>>4251839
>>4251841
>>4251873
>>4251888
>>4251899
>>4251914
>>4251906
>>4251935
>>4251962
>>4252033
>>4252137
>>4252234

This could be a trap. For all you know, this is a hallucination, either brought on by the gas in your system or some lingering effect from Jombaral’s reality-warping presence. You don’t think you spent nearly enough time in the sewers for the former, and when last you checked, the False Mother is still off planet.

As for the woman on the altar...you’ve never met her before in your entire life. You’ve never seen the likes of her appearance either in your dreams or in any drawing or holo-vid across the entire galaxy. But, on some deep, instinctive, primal level...you know who she is, and what she’s supposed to be to you.

And whether or not it’s a trap or not, you aren’t nearly ready to come to terms with that.

The Shaman’s lips curl back in a sneer, even as the woman’s eyes widen in horror. “So, the pilgrim reveals himself. Not quite what I was expecting from the sacrifice upon the altar...”

You offer nothing as you venture down the amphitheater, careful with every step as you watch out for any trickery or ambush. At a moment’s notice, your lightsaber is ready to spring into your hand. Once you reach the bottom of the pit, you remain a distant ways away from the stairs leading up to the altar, and its occupants.

“Ho? You’re approaching me?” the Shaman extends his arms in a patronizing welcome, “Instead of heading my warning and listening to the fleshling’s advice to go west-”

“Are those real?” You point towards the tools, cutting him off mid-tirade. If nothing else, his words confirm that you’re not only seeing the same woman, but hearing her as well. At the questioning eyebrow, you explain, “I just want to make sure that I’m not high on fumes or drooling in a cooking pot.”

"We might have already been fighting had you been another one of my kin." Something like a crooked smile breaks across the Kakari’s face. “The fabric of the universe is frayed and worn thin along the planet, but even more so upon here. You are right to be suspicious..."

Gathering an object in one of his talons, he tosses – not throws – what appears to be a cutting tool of sorts. You snatch it out of the air by the hilt, examining the knife with a critical eye. The grip is cool to the touch, and the length of the blade is sharpened quartz. So sharp that you nearly cut your finger along its edge.

Satisfied with what you see, you toss the knife back towards the Kakarit. Behind him, the woman continues to try and capture your attention, shaking and straining against the chains. Her eyes are wide and filled with fear...she's crying, begging past the gag in her mouth for you to run away.

If she’s acting, then she’s either doing a very good job of it...or she isn’t at all. Neither explanation offer you any comfort.

(cont.)
>>
But the foe atop the stairwell cuts off any further line of thought. “You are either the height of bravery or foolishness,” he observes, “To venture into this temple with only a single working arm.”

You shrug. “I don’t have the luxury of time to wait for this to heal.” Or to bandy words with something that, by all logic, shouldn't exist before you.

“With that response, perhaps a bit of both, then...” The Kakari deliberates, before deciding on something. The Living Force ripples and congeals as he gathers energy within the empty palm of his free hand. “I’ll not stain the length of my weapon in the blood of a weakened opponent and dishonor myself. Come up here, hatchling. The spirits will see rectify that injury-"

Your eyes narrow suspiciously. Force Healing is certainly something you remember hearing from the Jedi Temple. Hell, you even read about how a Dark Lord of the Sith had used the Force to keep his body from crumbling into dust through sheer force of will alone. But to completely repair a broken arm within minutes and have it ready for a fight?

You demand, “How do I know you won’t just lop of my other arm or run me through the second I lower my guard?”

The shaman’s nostrils flare dangerously. “You are lucky that we are in a place where your insolence can be excused for caution. You are the most interesting warrior to bear the Liar’s Blade, but insult my honor again, and I will strike you down, regardless of whether or not you chose to stand or flee.”

>>Select one of the following:
>Accept the offer of healing from the Shaman.
>Pretend to accept, and strike while his guard is down.
>Refuse the offer, and fight the Shaman with only one arm.
>>
>>4252301
>Accept the offer of healing from the Shaman.
regular arm, lizard arm, sunstone arm, I can't see how we'd lose out on any of those.

Not that it'll change that we only have one lightsaber, but being able to stab the liar's blade with the offhand is nice.
>>
>>4252301
>Accept the offer of healing from the Shaman.
>>
>>4252301
>Refuse the offer, and fight the Shaman with only one arm.
>>
>>4252301
>Accept the offer of healing from the Shaman
>>
>>4252301
>>Accept the offer of healing from the Shaman.

>>4252308
But what if it's only a hallucination of getting our arm healed, and then when we go to use it we end up in a compromised position because our arm is still crippled?
>>
>>4252301
>>Accept the offer of healing from the Shaman
>>
>>4252301
>>Pretend to accept, and strike while his guard is down.
Look man I ain't down for that pity life. And I sure as hell wouldn't put any stock in honor in the fucked up galaxy we currently reside in. Can't afford the luxury of it.
>>
>>4252331
I think it'd be pretty quick to figure out we can't grip the liar's spear.
>>
>>4252301
>Refuse the offer, and fight the Shaman with only one arm.
>>4252353
But what if we hallucinate that we CAN hold the spear, only to fail at the worst moment?
>>
>>4252301
>Accept the offer of healing from the Shaman.
Lizardfolk are pretty honest.
>>
>>4252366
at that point, we might just hallucinate refusing the force healing.
>>
>>4252403
>not realizing that literally everything that is happening is a hallucination in farren's own head to escape the mind-shattering pain of having his arm turned into fresh squeezed lemonade by the plant boi which is still going on right now
>>
>>4252408
I mean when you see your own mother tied in an altar and knowing who you are when she has not seen you 22-23 yeatlrsrs while above her a lizardman force sensitive stands while you are located in a god-forsaken place ,you are definitely hallucinating
>>
>>4252408
>not realizing that the entire kakarit adventure is a hallucination in farren's head to escape the crushing agony of looking at kristen frozen in carbonite
>>
>>4252301
>Accept the offer of healing from the Shaman
Heal me you shitty lizard.

Here's a thought, can we bully the Nightsisters into giving us a method to wake up our childhood friend/rock?
Food for thought.
>>
>>4252296
IS THAT A JOJO REFERENCES???????
>>
>>4252577
In killing the Mother, we might also end up purifying a Force Nexus or whatever or maybe even spawning one
>>
>>4252685
this whole planet is getting glassed by palpatinne even if we purify it,on another note we migth need to speed up who fucking knows if vader will sshow up .
>>
>>4252688
>vader shows up
>he never steps foot on the planet
>He's spent the last 2 hours force choking Jamboral and just flings it back to the planet before leaving.
>>
>>4252301
> accept the offer of healing from the shaman

On a side note Kaz while he is healing us can we apologise for hostility? Every lizard person we've met has been at the very least honourable toward us and greeting him with the same type of hostility that we would say Clone Troopers wasn't really fair to him, since he's just doing his job. Sure we're being hunted down to the ends of the galaxy, but it doesn't mean we have to be an asshole.
>>
>>4252301
>>Accept the offer of healing from the Shaman.
What a thoughtful guy.
>>
>>4252709
i dont think you understand what he is saying,he still wants to kill us,but kill us at our full strength .so after he heals us we figth to the death
>>
>>4252728
Yeah but at least he's honest about it. We're Jedi, we're supposed to have standards. Fight like hell but don't be a self righteous, self agrandizing dick. Really that line of thought could've saved the Jedi thousands of years of conflict.
>>
>>4252301
>>Accept the offer of healing from the Shaman.
>>
>>4237192
>IT AINT ME
>IT AINT ME
>I AINT NO SENATOR’S DROID NO NO
>>
>>4252301
>>Accept the offer of healing from the Shaman.
what could go wrong?
>>
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>>4252308
>>4252309
>>4252314
>>4252317
>>4252331
>>4252342
>>4252345
>>4252366
>>4252370
>>4252577
>>4252709
>>4252719
>>4252905
>>4253278
Even as you accept the offer, you mind isn’t put at ease. The Shaman is not only familiar with the Liar’s Blade, but knows that you carry it on your person, as the latest in several warriors sent by Bos. Come to think of it...if all the other warriors carried the Blade against the Herald and lost to either Jombaral’s messenger or this mysterious shaman, how did the weapon come back to Bos’ possession in Nest’s End?

Of course, this could still be some grand hallucination, or an incredibly convincing vision engineered by a mastermind who plucked the information from your brain like one might seeds from a pit. Hell, maybe Bos had a few dozen of the Liar’s Blade lying about her little hut-cabin...

But those are questions for another time and date. Undoing the sling and bandages that bind your arm against your chest, you hesitantly extend it as far as you can towards the shaman.

“...I recognize this wound...” the Kakari murmurs, tracing the outline of your nerves with talons as sharp as nails. Suddenly, the Living Force floods your arm, attacking the injury with the ferocity of a wild animal. “...there are few who escape encounters with the Herald, let alone with an injury as light as yours.”

Considering that your arm was in danger of being crushed into a bloody pulp, you elect to accept his condescending words as a compliment. As it is, you try not to grimace or otherwise make any noise as your skin writhes and strains at the Shaman’s ministrations.

Bones set back into place without any sort of delicacy, creaking and groaning like a wooden board under duress. Shards that might have been floating about your muscles and flesh vibrate, humming with energy as they seemingly return to the whole that they had originated from.

Something like a gunshot rings out in the amphitheater as the shaman claps his hands, and fuses the bone with a sharp jolt of Living Force. This time, you can’t help but cry out, cursing virulently as you tug your hand back, cradling it against your chest, shaking the pins and needles off of it...

...without any sort of pain.

“I’ve never seen such potent healing,” you marvel, stretching your fingers and testing their grip. Beyond a faint discoloration of where the breaks had occurred, the limb appears otherwise unmarred.

“Once, this place was a nexus for those within the Communion of the Ancestors, a nexus that would amplify our power exponentially. Now?” The Shaman shakes his head, any smugness at your wonder gone, “Now, it is little more than a mausoleum for a time forgotten, defiled by an abomination from an age when there were no songs.”

“And yet you survived,” you reply. Hopefully, if you pick and choose the right words, the Shaman will reveal more about himself.

(cont.)
>>
He snorts derisively. “You delay our fight, but I will humor you, as you fascinate me. Is it truly survival if I cannot leave or otherwise exit this place?”

“Why are you here, then? And not with Bos and her other acolytes in Nest’s End? How is it that you’ve kept this place safe from corruption and Jom...erm, the False Mother and her Children?”

“Becausewe swore an oath,” he answers proudly, “An oath that when the False Mother descended, and even should she take the Heart and planet, that we would protect the Godseye until someone worthy of its power could inherit the mantle.”

“‘We?’” you repeat, confused. “There’s only one of you, and I’m not counting...her. Who are you? And what is the Godseye? I was told to enkindle it-”

Even as the woman on the altar takes a moment to look offended, the shaman laughs. “Ah...it’s truly rare that I get a chance to talk this long. The last one was a silent type, but he screamed in the end. They all did...”
He spins his spear with a dramatic flourish, and the light at the tip creates a pinwheel of golden light. Leveling the weapon, the shaman bears his fangs in a feral grin. “Open your eyes, Jedi. Open your eyes, and see...”

Frowning, you reach out with the Force, concentrating as you behold the shaman and the woman upon the altar...

...and nearly blind yourself.

There is something there upon the altar. That much, you can be sure of. But against the presence of the shaman, you can make little else out, little beyond a silhouette that pales in the power that emits from the Kakari. It is as if someone had taken the light of several suns, and compressed it into a form that walked and spoke, a sentient nexus of the Living Force...

The shaman declares, in a sudden voice of legion, a great throng of voices: “We are all of the Kakari, of the Communion that Once Was, and Never Will Be so long as the False Mother continues her Song of Corruption. Distilled within this body are the souls of fifty shamen and shamanka, the One Born from Many, the Sum of Souls...Accuser of Pilgrims who seek the Godseye.”

His boast does nothing to ease your nerves. If anything, it reminds you of Bos’ words, about how the Herald is an amalgamation of tortured souls. But what kind of twisted variant of Essence Transfer, the worst of the Sith techniques, allows fifty souls to become one? And not be tainted in the Dark Side?

Nodding, you unhook your lightsaber, palming it with both of your hands. It’s been a long time since you’ve had to fight with only a single weapon, but not too long to be out of practice. Arotta had been unique in her duel, what with your broken arm and her mind nearly broken from two months in the jungle.

Not so here, against the shaman. This is a foe that could easily be on par with a Jedi Master.

“Face us, pilgrim.” He (?) salutes you with his Sunspear. “Draw your sword, Jedi Wanderer.”

(cont.)
>>
>>4253419
WE MAY HAVE MADE AN ERROR HERE.
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
>>
>>4253419
Why are there so many schizophrenics on this planet? Fuck off you dementia having ass motherfuckers. Damn.
>>
>>4253419
Aquiessing, your lightsaber bursts to life with a snap-hiss, filling the amphitheater with a second source of golden light, driving away the shadows and darkness about the room.

“You’re in my way, Accuser,” you address the shaman, relieved that your voice betrays none of the frantic, nervous tension within your body. “Is there no other way to do this?”

“One shall stand,” the Accuser intones solemnly, “One shall fall...”

Guess that’s a no, then...

The woman on the altar slumps in defeat, despairing that you did not heed her warning. But as her eyes meet yours for the final time, before golden blades lock together in mortal combat...her eyes harden, and her brow sharpens into a determined glare that she throws your way. And just like before, upon entrance into the Heart, you hear her words as a faint whisper on the wind:

“...fight...my son...”

...as far as introductions go, this was not the way you’d have expected to meet your mother.

>>What form will you be using?
>Form II/Makashi, the Duelist’s Form. [3d6+6]
>Form VI/Niman, the Hybrid’s Form. [2d6+8]

Gonna go do some gardening, have a few tree branches in the backyard that need pruning. I'll be back in a bit.
>>
>>4253442
>>Form II/Makashi, the Duelist’s Form. [3d6+6]

>Not going to melee using Makashi. Who do you think we are? A thug?
>>
>>4253442
>Form II/Makashi, the Duelist’s Form. [3d6+6]
TWICE THE PRIDE, DOUBLE THE FALL!
>>
>>4253442
>Form II/Makashi, the Duelist’s Form. [3d6+6]
>>
>>4253442
Oh cool, so is mom a jedi or a force entity or what?
Neato.
Oh right
>Form II/Makashi, the Duelist’s Form. [3d6+6]
TWICE THE DOUBLE
FALL THE PRIDE
>>
>>4253469
Mom's an hallucination. Which I'm guessing is brought about by the fucking plant mom digging into our genetic history via force bullshit.
Or it could be the star doing that. Who the fuck knows on this shitheap of a world.
Fucking damnit I'd rather be on Nal Hutta.
>>
>>4253442
>Form II/Makashi, the Duelist’s Form. [3d6+6]
>>
>>4253476
On the bright side at least in this spooky tree cave mom is nice.
Dagobah's spooky tree cave is shit and your dad tries to fuck you up and then he turns into you.

I don't quite get why you think table mom is a hallucination though, Chumba-Wumba hasn't actually got it's claws in Farren yet, so it shouldn't be able to do shit like that.
It also shouldn't actively be trying to fuck itself up by telling him what to do.
>>
>>4253496
Say what you will about Dagobah, at least he was upfront with his fuckery.
>>
>>4253496
It doesn't really matter. Our mom wouldn't be here. No one should even be here. It was dumb bad luck that the seppies and pubbies are here. Fuck this gay planet.
>>
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>>4253419
>This is a foe that could easily be on par with a Jedi Master.
pic
>inb4 we have to roll perfectly to even gain a decent advantage
>>
Oh boy, I can't wait to tell everything to our master.
>"And that was when the clones decided to stay loyal to the jedi..."
>"Wait I thought they all turned into plants."
>"Oh no no, those were the OTHER clones. Anyway, after that I went and found Arotta to knock her unconcious and force feed (heh) her some laxatives. Oh and then I saw my mom. But then I had to beat up a star..."
>Visible Confusion

Can the God Emperor of Kakarikind fuck off though.
>>
>>4253536
>At the end of the story our master looks us straight in the eyes.
>Puts his hands on both of our shoulders and says
>"What the kriff are you smoking and can I have some of that?"
>>
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What if Jombaral was actually our real mom all along?
>>
>>4253565
Well the good news is I just rented a woodchipper so when we decide to dive headfirst into one it'll be conveniently close by.
>>
>>4253565
>"Darth Vader, I've come so you can end my life senpai. I wanted many things out of this galaxy but being the child of a mutant helltree that can wield the force was not one of them."
>>
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>>4253455
>>4253460
>>4253462
>>4253469
>>4253487

There's little more do be said. Falling into your favored stance, you ready your off-hand for applications of the Force. Against a spear, you're not quite sure how well the duelist's stance is going to fare, but as long as you either close the distance or keep him at bay with the Force...

Well, you've always put more faith in your martial prowess than your skills at manipulating the Force.

>>Please roll 3d6+6 Lightsaber.
>Best out of three.

Getting dinner, be back in one to two hours.
>>
Rolled 1, 2, 1 + 6 = 10 (3d6 + 6)

>>4253606
WE CAN'T AFFORD TO FAIL DOOKU NOW!
>>
Rolled 1, 6, 4 + 6 = 17 (3d6 + 6)

>>4253606
We're going to die horribly.
>>
>>4253621
AAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA!
>>
Rolled 1, 2, 6 + 6 = 15 (3d6 + 6)

>>4253606
>>
FFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFFUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUUU--
>>
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Of all the times for our dice to fail us, this has to be one of the worst.
>>
>>4253649
Eh, it was two above average. The dice could've gone much worse.
>>
Rolled 1, 1, 3 = 5 (3d6)

>>4253649
Just chill out fag. Geez. We all knew this planet was going to kill us before we came here anyway.
>>
Rolled 3, 4, 2 + 6 = 15 (3d6 + 6)

>>4253606
gotta warm up my dice
>>
Well, we had a good run. Pleasure knowing you guys.
>>
dumb non-sequitor

If we ever have to run away from storm troopers without revealing the jedi thing, can we use force weapon on a frying pan and use it to block blaster shots? Maybe we can get away with "it was a really good frying pan".
>>
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>>4253621
>>4253625
>>4253632
It’s an unspoken rule on the battlefield that the warrior who strikes first is inevitably the victor. Those that over-analyze, struggle to come up with a seemingly perfect solution and agonize over every little choice are caught up in their indecisiveness and are cut down to size.

While there are statistical anomalies, deviations and exceptions to the rule, that old saying seems to have withstood the tests of time. Even the scale didn’t matter, didn’t care if the warrior served on the front lines or from behind as a commander. If the warrior wouldn’t strike, he would be dead and bleeding upon the ground. If the commander failed to give orders, she would have dead men’s blood on her hands.

At some unspoken signal, the duel begins in earnest, and it seems that the two of you had reached to the same conclusion as to “winner strikes first”. The stoneworks underneath your feet don’t break as much as they shatter, unable to withstand the sheer power of the Force that simultaneously propels each combatant towards the other.

Flashes of light illuminate the amphitheater as the duel between you and the Accuser begins in earnest. You come together at the center of the dais, only a handful of feet away from the altar. Sparks fly from the point of contact as you lock weapons; Sunspear against lightsaber, each a resplendent golden-yellow, screaming against the other in a desperate match for dominance.

The shaman withdraws, bringing the butt of his weapon in a sweeping arc towards your gut. Dodging out of the way, you press the advantage, countering into the gap that he’d left open for himself.

“You fight not against one, but against fifty unified souls,” the Accuser intones with the throng of voices, deflecting your strike with a reversal before it could hit the unprotected shaft. Without warning, he takes one hand off his spear, and sends a wave of Force in your direction. “Do try not to disappoint us.”

The wave is powerful, enough to blast away chunks of the amphitheater alongside your body. Just before you’d crash headlong into a wall, you quickly reorient, planting your boots against unyielding stone. With a great push, you spring forward, Jumping back into the center of the sanctuary, blasting the path ahead of you with your own wave of Force.

To your surprise, the shaman actually stumbles backwards a few steps, and the dress of the woman billows fiercely in the gust you’d conjured. Nearby tools go flying, either impaling themselves upon random surfaces or otherwise disappearing into the room. That was...certainly unexpected.

“Once, this place was a nexus...”

Recalling the words of the Accuser as you resume the fight, you try not to grin. It seems that the nexus of the temple is just as much of a beneficiary to you as much as it is to both the shaman and the Children of Jombaral. Certainly a welcome addition to the arsenal at your disposal.

(cont.)
>>
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In the old holo-vids you’d seen of Count Dooku, the former Jedi-turned-renegade had approached Form II with a fencer’s mindset, electing to keep a single hand free tucked quietly behind his back. Rarely did he ever elect to use both hands, reserving it only for ‘saber-locks against powerful opponents. In traditional fencing, the non-dominant hand is kept out of the way, far out of reach from the enemy’s weapon.

Not so much with a Force-user. Where he once might have employed the more orthodox techniques of Force Push and Pull, the Count would employ Sith Lightning and Force Choke. Reports of the latter were rare, but Skywalker could vouch for the former. Just before the Dooku had cut off his hand, the rising star of the Jedi Order had been subject to a particularly vicious blast of lighting.

...hopefully, he made it out of this mess. For all his faults and tendency to be moody, Skywalker certainly lived up to his moniker as the alleged Chosen One. Especially now, when the galaxy needed him the most. There’s no way that he’d go down that easily, not when he’d killed the Sith Lord whose techniques you saw fit to borrow and mold into your own style.

An unbidden smile tugs at the corner of your mouth. Master Larid never quite got over that of all the people to inspire you to take up Form II, it was a renegade Jedi. Granted, he had only been a part of the Lost Twenty until the Clone Wars, but it was still a point that the Shadow was fond of poking you with.

But, you digress. Against a lightsaber, you might have employed a similar approach to the Count’s style: sword in one hand, Force abilities in the other. Not so much when going against something like a Force pike, or even Master Larid’s double-bladed lightsaber. The pure strength behind each of the Accuser’s blows forces you to use both hands, lest the weapon be jolted out of your grip.

Still, in the instances where you break away or he performs some twirling maneuver, you see fit to use the Force with your off-hand. Stones and debris answer your call, hurtling towards the Accuser in a furious storm. But what the Kakari does not dodge, he otherwise elects to slice away, and the light of his Sunspear seems to carve the very air itself apart.

As he slices the final block apart, you charge in close after, thrusting your weapon in a series of furious stings. Blows aimed towards the feet, the legs, midsection and shoulder...all are otherwise parried or deflected. Your eyes narrow as a blow aimed towards the end of his spear is dodged gracefully out of the way. He’s lighter on his feet than his musculature and build would give him credit for.

This time, you elect to grip your lightsaber with both hands as you collide in the center of the dais once more. The two of you exchange blows and counters, thrusts and parries, a cycle of breaking away and circling before coming back together to dance once more.

(cont.)
>>
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More than once do your arms waver from several high-impact strikes, but you reply in kind, keeping the Accuser on his toes with attacks and sweeps aimed towards his legs. It’s barely an even game, but one that you’re more than willing to play. As it stands, there isn’t going to be any clear victor in sight.

“You’ve come farther than most,” the Kakari offers, a sinister gleam in his eyes as you lock weapons once more. “Had you been born as one of my own, you would have made a worthy addition to the Collective.”

“I happen to like being skin and bones,” you counter with a grimace, “And I’m far too independent to be a team player.”

The two of you certainly remain energetic, tired as you’d been from your duel against Arotta. Leaping and whirling, Jedi and Shaman rain blows upon the other, slicing debris up and hurtling them in every conceivable direction. There’s little in the way of maneuvering beyond making sure that the sole witness to the room isn’t caught in the crossfire.

But it’s still not an easy brawl. The Accuser’s tactics seem to change at random intervals. At one instance, he might have favored leading with his left, thrusting low and then high in a feinting maneuver. In another, he augmented his strikes with kicks and punches, headbutts and elbows in close proximity. Still even more troubling is when he produces a sphere of Force Fire in his hands, and blasts a tendril of flame as if he were an Arkanian dragon.

It certainly feels like you’re fighting against fifty people with how often he changes his styles of combat. Yet one thing remains constant: his cadence is deliberate, step-by-step as it seeks to cut off all the angles, relentlessly dogged as it tries to corner you against a wall or column. Similar movements could be extrapolated towards a more measured Shii-Cho or Soresu, albeit adapted for the spear instead of the lightsaber.

A Jedi is taught to release all desire, and allow the Force to flow through them. A Sith sought to master the Force and direct it as they wanted. The Kakarit before you does neither of those, guiding his attacks through the Force as if he were captaining a sailing ship through a typhoon, riding the flow and eddy of the current to his advantage on pure instinct alone. It’s...hard to describe-

“Your thoughts betray you, Jedi,” the Accuser intones as he closes the gap, pinwheeling his spear in a furious motion along the sides of his body. The centrifugal force within the weapon nearly jolts your lightsaber out of your hands as it lands, leaving you wide open for a furious riposte. “Or rather, you think far too much in combat!”

The blade of the Sunspear darts about you like a furious hornet, and pain blossoms along the entirety of your body-

What makes you so special that you got chosen?!

(cont.)
>>
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Your vision blurs as the metal butt of the spear connects against the side of your temple with a nasty CRACK, and nearly lays you low upon the ground. Someone is screaming...the woman on the altar? Stumbling, you beat a hasty retreat from the dais, down the stairs in an attempt to reorient yourself as you swing your lightsaber out to defend-

You only got by from luck, you aren't a real Jedi-!

“Too slow!”

Past and present weaves into an indecipherable mess of visions. Just as you are within the depths of the Heart of Kakarit, so too are you back on the Jedi Temple, fresh out of the Youngling Trials having bested all comers. And in a relatively unguarded hallway, far away from the Salamander quarters, you had walked into a deadly ambush by five of your peers, younglings destined for the Service Corps and jealous of your success.

The blows of the Shaman and those of your peers fall upon you like a summer squall, utterly relentless and furious beyond measure. You can avoid the worst of them, strikes that would either concuss or lop your head off, but not all of them. A dozen cuts are opened up on your clothes and skin, instantly cauterized from the sheer heat of both Sunspear and training saber.

Get his lightsaber-!

Flesh melts, and blood boils as the edge of the Sunspear slips past your sloppy defense, and opens a wound on your dominant wrist. It’s hard not to scream, even harder to maintain a steady grip. The weapon is wrenched from your hands, propelled by the Force to fly into some distant corner of the amphitheater. Its light disappears, leaving you truly alone against the Accuser, against your jealous peers and rivals...

“You’ve lost your weapon, Jedi,” the Kakarit observes, leaving no time for you to retrieve it as he quickly closes the distance. “What will you do now?”

>For having selected [Force Weapon] during character creation, a unique option appears before you...

You react as you did all those many years ago. Desperation lends you strength beyond your measure, and you reach out with the Force towards the nearest weapon. But instead of a broomstick, what answers your call is one of the stone tools at the shaman’s table. You grit through your teeth, past the pain in your wrist as you catch the weapon, flooding it with the Force only seconds before the Sunspear makes impact.

“Interesting!” the Accuser laughs, pulling away after the initial clash. Your hands are trembling, but you manage a defiant glare as you leap forward to counterattack. “So very interesting! Even mundane staff imbued with the power of the spirits would certainly be as durable as my Sunspear!”

It's been years since you’ve even touched one of the training staves at the Temple. But once you put your hands upon the shaft, fell into a steady exchange of rhythmic thrusts and blocks, the memory of wielding such a weapon slowly seeps into your muscles.

>>Roll 2d6+4 Melee. [+2 Brawn, +2 Skill]
>Best out of three.
>>
Rolled 1, 6 + 4 = 11 (2d6 + 4)

>>4254947
>>
Rolled 2, 1 + 4 = 7 (2d6 + 4)

>>4254947
AAAAAAAAAAAAA
>>
Rolled 6, 3 + 4 = 13 (2d6 + 4)

>>4254947
>>
Rolled 5, 3 + 4 = 12 (2d6 + 4)

>>4254947
>>
Rolled 4, 6 + 4 = 14 (2d6 + 4)

>>4254947
>>
>>4254956
oh thank god for this roll
>>
>>4237192
It's back, holy shit
>>
Saber staff time fellas
>>
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>>4254953
>>4254954
>>4254956
“You’re breaking your master’s heart, Farren!” the memory of Master Larid sighed dramatically in his mind, “Two lightsabers and not a double-bladed lightsaber? Oh, you wound me, my young apprentice! And here, I thought I was going to enjoy the prospect of passing my own style down to you...

If nothing else, you’d humored your master and sparingly took up a training staff just to make sure he wouldn’t spontaneously burst into an overdramatic fit or pester you for being inspired by Dooku. Now, the taste of your boot tastes quite awful in your mouth, and you’d wished that you learned more from those lessons. As it stands, you’re only barely doing the basics; performing some of the more esoteric and aggressive maneuvers with your inexperience would only spell disaster.

Still, you make a good show of yourself.

Both tips of your weapon are blunted at either end. But with the lack weights and weaponhead, you have a singular advantage of speed over the Accuser. The staff weaves in and out, batting away and parrying thrusts and chops, extending towards the Kakarit’s midsection in a singular, blunt strike. His body bends forward, and his face contorts in surprised pain as all the air is driven out of his lungs.

Now!

Withdrawing the borrowed tool, you quickly follow up with a Force Push. Amplified by the temple’s nexus, your attack is easily thrice as potent, and your opponent goes flying. The Accuser is propelled into the air, crashing against a column with enough force to shatter the ancient stone, kicking up a cloud of dust and debris that settles about the amphitheater.

With the time you bought, you quickly analyze the wounds along your body. Wrist tendon...torn, but not all the way. Dozens of small lacerations, legs and arms...cauterized and sealed...

Your fingers come away crimson when you press it towards your temple. Skin’s broken and bleeding, but head wounds always bleed a lot. Minor headache, but a lack of nausea confirms that you aren’t concussed. There’s still plenty of fight left within you.

Pain is an illusion, a neurological phenomenon hard-wired into most organisms of the galaxy. When one feels pain, it’s a warning from the body to withdraw from a dangerous situation, and flee from whatever’s causing the discomfort. Control Pain is not a power that you’d learned, but years under the tutelage of a borderline-insane Master have taught you to ignore, if not completely quash it out.

Unlike that encounter in the past, there will be no Temple Guards to break up the fight. With a quick breath, in and out, you clear your mind of all distractions, focusing on the here and now. The hallways of the Temple fade away, the enraged faces of jealous younglings melt into the shadows...

(cont.)
>>
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“Yes!”
From the debris, a great pulse of power drives away the cloud of dust, revealing the Accuser in all of his glory. His skin shows the faint burns and scratches from your lightsaber, and several of his spinal spikes are twisted and broken. But he doesn’t seem to care, leaping back into the fight with a joyous glee in his eyes.

“Show us more, Jedi!” the Collective demands, leading with a forward thrust of the Sunspear. Its glowing edge comes too close to skewering you, a blow you barely catch against the haft of your weapon. The edge of the spear slides perilously along the stone, forcing you to lift your hand to prevent your fingers from being severed. “Show us that you are truly worthy!”

Lashing out with your boot, you kick the Sunspear away, and propel yourself backwards with a quick application of your staff to the ground. This is far from your ideal weapon; even a lightsaber pike would feel more welcome in your hands! But it’ll do...

Master Larid would never let you hear the end of this, if he happened to find out...he’d be insufferable for the rest of his life to learn that you’d fallen back on techniques that you’d brushed off.

>>What will you do?
>Adopt a defensive stance and search for your missing lightsaber.
>Engage with your makeshift weapon in the hopes of a quick end.
>Initiate a battle of skills with the Force, amplified by the nexus.
>Release the woman on the altar and get her out of the crossfire.
>Trap the Accuser by collapsing nearby columns and structures.
>Write-in. [Custom-option.]

[VOTE OPEN FOR SEVEN HOURS]
>>
>>4255967
>Adopt a defensive stance and search for your missing lightsaber.
This might sound like a crazy plan, but hear me out. What if we turned on the lightsaber, maneuvered the Emperor between us and it, and then used a Force Pull to bring it flying toward him while we attacked from the front?
If he focused on us the lightsaber would skewer him from behind, if he batted away the lightsaber it would leave him open for us, and if he dodged both of the attacks we would be reunited with the saber.
>>
>>4255967
>Adopt a defensive stance

something similar to >>4255970 but

>While we look for the lightsaber, switch to various Force Weapon tools around the arena as well and let them scatter on the ground
Whether we find the lightsaber or not, force pulling a whole bunch of empowered weapons at him will work as a trap.
>>
>>4255970
>>4255970
>>4255975
Reminder that such a move can be sensed through the flow of the force. We ain't tricky.

>Trap the Accuser by collapsing nearby columns and structures.
We could prob do this WHILE searching for the light saber.
>>
>>4255967


>>4255970
>>4255975
+1 planons
>>
>>4255991
It's not about stealth, it's about forcing him into a scenario without a perfect outcome. There is no single response that won't give us an advantage.


Well, that's the idea, at least.
>>
>>4255975
this is a good idea.
how did the woman even get here? its likely some trick of the force
>>
>>4255967
>>4255970
>>4255975
Well, let's try this out.
>>
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>>4255970
>>4255975
I can't even begin to describe how genius of a plan this is. Holy shit, that's worthy of a reward.

Writing...
>>
>>4257140
>Writing...
>>
>>4258063
...gnitirW<
>>
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>>4255970
>>4255975
>>4255991
>>4255993
>>4256040
>>4256087

A plan springs forth in your pain-addled mind, a desperate plan, a bold plan that would spell a definitive end to the fight. Whether or not it would result in your end or the Accuser’s is still up in the air. There are so many ways that it might go wrong...

...but you have little choice. As meager as your skills with the staff are, nothing beyond a battle of attrition would come from maintaining the status quo. Beyond your own exhaustion from dealing with Arotta, and the slow accumulation of injuries piling on your body, you give yourself...five minutes, maybe ten.

The only way this would end well in your favor is a swift, quick resolution, supported by a mad, delicate plan so delicate it would crumble at the slightest mistake.

But as mused upon earlier, thinking too much and getting lost in stratagems would be a mistake. Master Larid had always detested dithering about, thinking and over-analyzing a battlefield. You’re not about to ignore his teachings, especially now, more than ever.

The Accuser grins as you reach out with the Force, collapsing a pillar that you’d corralled him against. His Sunspear pinwheels into a fiery corona of light; both your strikes and the falling structure are dispatched, with the latter blown away to all corners of the amphitheater.

“Clever Jedi,” he taunts, advancing with an aggressive counter-attack. You dodge at the last possible second, leaping over his head as his charge leads him against another pillar. Once more, you collapse the column, and are met with the same result. “But not nearly clever enough. You’re a thousand years too early and millions of columns away before you can try that trick on me.”

The pillars are only a means to an end. Not the true objective. He seems to have bought your bluff, paying more attention to the nearby stonework as opposed to his own footing...as well as the objects near his feet. Nor does he notice that as you leap and duck, riposte and counter, the circular dance you take while searching for the lodestone of your plan.

One by one, painstakingly slowly, you leap and flip your way to where the sacrificial tools had scattered. You grab and throw what you can, (mostly) selling the illusion of a desperate warrior buying time for something else. Nearly all go flying wide, missing their mark completely. What few come close to striking are contemptuously batted away, spinning further into the darkness of the room.

“Don’t tell me this is all you’ve left for yourself, pilgrim?” the Accuser demands. “Has your ingenuity dried up like a river in the desert?”

You remain silent, grimacing as the next attack nearly buckles your knees. All the tools had been tagged, dormant and waiting for your command. The tiniest amount of Force lies within them, holdovers from when you’d imbibed them with energy. But there is one more that you need to account for...

(cont.)
>>
>>4258559
>Has your ingenuity dried up like a river in the desert?
I'm on to your tricks
>>
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>>4258559
There. You sense the crystal within your lightsaber, resonating with its twin tucked safely in your pocket. In the seventeen years since their acquisition during the Gathering, there's no mistaking that signature. The ‘saber lies hidden beneath one of the benches, obscured by the shadows...

...waiting patiently for your call.

You snarl, releasing one hand from the staff to direct a blast of Force energy towards the Accuser. It’s not so powerful as to stagger him, but it’s more than enough to place him directly in the center of the amphitheater...right in the middle of the disaster zone of your plan.

Now!

At first, there doesn’t appear to be any movement, barely a ripple in the Force as you reach out for the imbued weapons, and reaching out further to encapsulate the debris. Suddenly, they stir to life, shooting up into the air, a dozen myriad tools of torture, sacrifice and other esoteric function alongside sizable stone.

The Accuser’s eyes widen in surprise. But just before he could move to escape the epicenter, you close the distance, placing yourself in just as much as danger as your foe. And with the deliberate collapsing of the columns...the two of you are trapped in an ambush of your own making.

Understanding breaks across the Kakari’s face as you lock weapons, and plant your boot fiercely upon his foot. “Clever Jedi...”

And with thought, a storm of stone and steel races towards the Accuser.

The Sunspear moves furiously, intercepting the projectiles as they race towards its wielder. Some, he simply elects to deflect or otherwise slice in half, countering with his own usage of the Force at the larger pieces. But there’s little way that he can dodge them all, and you’re all the more careful of what you pick and choose.

The larger stones and tools are only distractions. Your true attack lies in the smaller objects, the knives and hammers, flint spearheads and shears, twirling about the Accuser in a seemingly random orbit until you direct them to strike. With any long weapon the likes of a polearm, it’s nearly impossible for him to block them all, as well as your own desperate attack with your staff.

Without the nexus, something like this could not have been possible with your minimal grasp on the Force. As it is, even as you draw power from the nexus to augment your own, your body is ill-equipped to handling this much power. Your mind strains, split between wielding and attacking with your staff, manipulating each and every one of the dozens of stone and debris...

Idly, you’re aware of the taste of blood entering your mouth, dripping from your nose as capillaries burst. The sensation of somebody jabbing a hot knife into your cranium nearly brings you to your knees, but you refuse to give up. Gritting your teeth and clenching your gut, you fight through the migraine and the strain that the attack puts on your body, pushing the absolute limit of your own meager Force reserves...

(cont.)
>>
The weapons dart in and out like a furious swarm of insects, attacking whatever surface of the Kakari’s skin they can find. They stab and cut, slash and pierce, flying about the two of you in wild, unpredictable arcs. With your placement so close to the Accuser, and your fraying control over them, it’s nearly impossible for you to avoid being hit.

Still, your opponent seems to be the worst off between the two of you. A series of small cuts have opened across the shaman’s skin, exponentially more than what you’ve inflicted upon yourself. All you have to do is grit through the pain, continuing to defend and attack, micromanaging the weapons-

“ENOUGH!”

With a dramatic flourish, the Accuser slams his weapon into the ground with a loud CRASH, driving it deep into the stone. The Force wells up within him, broiling like a furious storm, and seemingly detonates in a sphere of pure kinetic energy. With a shudder, your connection to the debris is severed as your concentration breaks under the sheer power of the wave.

Driving your staff into the ground just barely prevents you from going flying alongside with the weapons and stone. The explosion kicks up a cloud of dust, obscuring your forms equally as your inert tools clatter to the ground...

...in the split second that it takes him to uproot his spear, you likewise make your move.

This is your last chance, your final strike against the Accuser. The debris field is little more than harmless pebbles, and what weapons didn’t break apart are completely and utterly inert. All except for one, the trump card you kept hidden, that answers your last, desperate call as you surge forward towards the Kakari.

For the briefest moment, you could have sworn that in your delirium, you saw a blade of light emerge from the end of your borrowed weapon...

There is a wet noise as you run the Accuser through, driving the blunt end of your weapon with enough force to penetrate skin and emerge the other end. Shortly, your own lightsaber shoots out from the darkness and enters the Kakari’s back. It explodes out of his chest with a wet noise, only a scant few inches away from your face.

Even as his talons dig into your shoulder, and his toothy maw moves to close around your neck, you hold on tight, trembling as you twist both staff and ‘saber with an application of the Force-

Blood erupts from the Accuser’s mouth, drenching you both in a bitter tang of iron. The Sunspear drops from nerveless fingers, clattering to the floor as the energy within the weapon burns out completely. In the darkness of the amphitheater, the only source of light comes from your lightsaber, illuminating the sight of the shaman collapsing onto the ground.

“...clever...Jedi...” the Accuser groans, wheezing as you pull your staff from his midsection, a fatal wound. The Kakari only has seconds. “...ascend the Spire...Enkindle the Godseye...burn it all away...”

(cont.)
>>
>>4259026
Oh, I’m hoping we’ll get a new kyber crystal out of this...
>>
>>4259056
I'ma be real wit chu chief I'd be satisfied with just leaving this soon-to-be-barren rock.
>>
>>4259083
Yep. Even with mother defeated, this place is getting iced just in case.

Best we can do is attempt relocating survivors
>>
>>4259056
>>4259103
I hope we can take the sunstone if we have to evac everyone.
>>
>>4259056
>kyber crystal
Wrong
>>
big sheev was right to gas this planet
>>
>>4259396
Is that something that definitely happened in canon, or is it something we think will happen?
>>
>>4259435
>Write-in. [Custom Option.]
Book it. The Force is the only mother we've ever known, anything this vision says comes from Jombaral, not the Force, and certainly not M(r)s. Galle. (Though I'm sure she would agree.)
>>
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>>4259026
“...and tell Bos...” A singular voice whispers faintly, just before the Kakari’s eyes glaze over, “...it’s not...her...fault...”

>>You have defeated the Accuser of Pilgrims!

>Tapping into the Force Nexus has increased your Force Rating!
>You now have a Force Rating of 2, and now roll 2d10 when rolling for Force Powers.

>Through your actions, you have gained a rank in Force Weapon!
>You have Force Weapon 3!
>You are now able to imbue your lightsaber with the Force to inflict more damage and increase its cutting power.
>At Rank 5...???

>Through this unorthodox plan, you’ve gained a faint understanding with a new Force Power.
>You have obtained the power Mystic Weapon 1!
>You can now imbibe a lightsaber with the Force and make it fight at your side.
>At Rank 3, you may add an additional Lightsaber.

>>You have obtained the [Sunstone Spear], a weapon-relic of the Communion of Spirits.
>An ancient weapon from a forgotten age, then the surface of Kakarit was an endless plain of sand. It is among the earliest forms of Kakari technology, using energy stored within sunstones to manifest a field of energy along its blade.
>Its owner was the Accuser of Pilgrims, guardian of the Godseye. A gestalt entity composed of fifty souls strong in the Force, it was bound to the Heart of Kakarit and charged with protection of the temple.

You take a long moment to gather yourself, raising a trembling hand to blast away the cloud of dust. Swallowing deep breaths of air, you kneel down at the corpse of the Accuser, gently turning him over to retrieve your lightsaber.

The borrowed staff goes inert as you cut off the flow of Force. Little more than a glorified walking stick, it still helps you limp towards one of the few pillars that you hadn’t collapsed. Panting and wincing at every exertion, you collapse in a boneless heap, almost too tired to think, too tired to muse upon the wounds...

“...Farren...!”

...too tired to comprehend the sound of chains straining...

=Line Break=

When you wake up, you find yourself not against the cold, unyielding stone of a column. The surface upon which your head rests is warm and soft, pulsing with the vibrancy of life. Your eyelids flutter, slowly focusing on a focal point hovering closely above your head...

...and they snap into focus as you behold the deep, blue eyes of the woman upon the altar. She smiles as you start to consciousness, gently holding you in place as you rest upon her lap.

“...you’ve grown up into such a wonderful young man,” she croons, gently stroking your hair. Her wrists are red where the manacles had once kept her bound. Manacles that you notice strewn all over the gazebo above the altar. “...and a fine Jedi. I couldn't be any prouder of you, my son..."

>>How will you respond?
>Write-in. [Custom Option.]
>>
>>4259441
She's clearly physical, and the fact she hasn't force fed us fruit leads me to believe she isn't Jombaral.
It's a Force Nexus so she might be a force entity?
>>
>>4259444
>"Gee, Mom, it sure is weird that there's all these family reunions going on at this here planet. And that they all seem to involve you. And that you're probably turning them into trees. Funny, huh?"
>"Anyway, I gotta go. Need to burn down your trees so I can leave the planet with my old friends, their friends, my new friends, and my old enemies so I can avoid being on the planet before it's turned into cinders by a megalomaniac's army. BYE!"
>>
>>4259444
>"I don't really buy that you're my mother yet. First off, why are you here, how did you get here, and how did you get imprisoned? I can't trust you what with the giant plant hivemind pretending to be a mother."
>>
>>4259444
Questions
>Who are you?
>What are you?
>How'd you get here?
>Are you Jombaral?
Add more, anons.
>>
>>4259444
>What are you?
I wonder if she's something like a counterpart to Jombaral. A missing component to wake Jombaral up, or a force projection without any of the chemical fruit juju.
>>
>>4259519
she is a physical being ,she is no force projection and she is our mother
>>
>>4259528
t. Jombaral
>>
>>4259444
>"Ma I got some stuff to do if you want you can just wait here while I turn this place into glass. Also I don't really know you so this familial connection thing isn't really two-way. Sorry."
I'm just saying. It's not like we actually know her.
>>
>>4259444
"Ok boomer"
>>
>>4259632
Is Jombaral a Bloomer?
>>
>>4259444
how did you get here?
since this is a force nexus, this might just be force shenanigans
>>
>>4259444
>>4259455
This is good.
>>
>>4259455
Yeah I'll support you.
>>
>>4259455
Support

addition:
> How many fingers am I holding up behind my back?
>>
She's clearly not Jombaral, guys, otherwise she would've fed us the fruit in our sleep.
>>
>>4261080
Oh shit, maybe she did.
>>
>>4261080
Well good news is when you're unconscious you can't tell when someone is shoving handfuls of drugs down your throat. So howsabout we don't just jump to conclusions eh?
>>
>>4261507
people have already jumped to conclusions by assuming she wants to hurt us or saying she is jombaral.
>>
>>4261523
Jombaral showed herself to the clones as their mother.
I don't see why this entity can't be Jombaral, and in the first place Jombaral was worshiped because she was a motherly figure, I don't think it's inherently evil.
>>
>>4261525
and i dont see how she can not be so,you have jumped to the conclusion of thinking she is jombaral even if she is not(obviously we cannot know if she is or she is not)
>>
>>4261527
We know Farren's homeworld exists, so he isn't the product of a force entity.
>>
>>4261507
>>4261525
>>4261529
>She's not evil! She's our mommy and you should trust her!
t. JIDF shill
>>
>>4261532
>t. JIDF shill
?
Why did you reply to me with that?
>>
>>4261536
we will never worship your tree
jombaral internet defense force
>>
>>4261538
You should re-read what I posted.
>>
>>4261541
Yeah I think the guy has brain damage. Because what I said isn't in any way an endorsement of the plant.

Maybe this is some weird GayOp and he's trying to do some triple agent shit. I don't know.
>>
>>4261565
He really might.
I don't think the sun is inherently evil either, and it helped transform Earth into what it is today, and will eventually completely engulf it in it's entirety.
>>
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>>4259441
>>4259451
>>4259454
>>4259455
>>4259519
>>4259596
>>4259632
>>4259651
>>4259663
>>4259725
>>4261071
As a million thoughts run through your mind, a shot of adrenaline nearly bucks you off the floor. It takes every ounce of your being to not otherwise panic...or lose your composure. Without the interference of the Accuser’s harsh demands, the voice in which the woman speaks causes your heart to ache. It’s all so familiar: the delicate fingers through your hair, the scent of fresh linens and lavender soap...

“Who are you?” you croak, swallowing past a mouthful of blood. The bitter tang of iron is welcome, jolting you nearly out of the last dregs of sleep. And the lack of the tell-tale, sickeningly sweet taste of Eeche fruit puts you somewhat at ease, if only slightly. “...what are you?”

She smiles softly, cradling your cheek. “You already know the answer to both of those, Farren. I think you’ve known the answer to both since our eyes first met when you stepped into the amphitheater.”

The non-answer does absolutely nothing for your mounting nerves. Arotta's scrawling suddenly comes to mind, about how Jombaral first tried the carrot before the stick.

“...are you Jombaral?”

There’s a dull pain as the woman pinches your cheek with a frown. “How rude...I thought the Jedi would have raised you to have better manners.”

“...how many fingers am I holding behind-”

“Seven.” To your surprise, she actually pouts. “Come now, I understand your suspicions, but you really shouldn’t test your mother’s patience like that.”

For a moment, you’re tempted to straighten up and cut the bullshit. Only for a moment.

“...I don’t buy it,” you swallow, grimacing, “Not yet, with all the craziness that’s going on here. Forgive me if I’m a little on edge considering the giant plant monster pretending to be a mother.”

Silence...and then the woman sighs. “No, I don’t suppose you’re wrong to hold doubts. But really, is it too much for you to call me ‘mother?’”

You hesitate before shaking your head. “I’m sorry. I...”

You might have said something about a lack of familial connection, but that would be a lie. Your mind and body know without a shadow of a doubt that this woman, entity...her appearance could only be that of the woman that brought you into the galaxy. On some instinctive level, you know that she’s telling the truth...but years of training override any sort of sentimentality.

“...very well.” The woman exhales, exerting as she lifts you from her lap. Gently, she arranges you against the back of the altar, settling down to sit beside you. “You’re breaking your mother’s heart, you know-”

To both of your surprise, a cold edge of steel creeps into your voice. “Stop. Don’t...don’t call yourself-"

“Oh for heaven’s sake.” Her mouth thins into a reproachful line. “Alleana. If not ‘mother’, then I will answer to that. Alleana Gaelle.”

(cont.)
>>
master Larid is gonna freak when we bring back our mom
>>
>>4263406
>freak
I believe the word you are looking for is fuck
>>
>>4262437
“Fine...Alleana.” The name is heavy and odd as it flows from your mouth, like a taste you have yet to acquire. At the very least, it isn’t as bitter or hard of a pill to swallow as thinking of her as your mother. “Let’s say you aren’t Jombaral. What are you, then? A Force Entity? A hallucination or fever dream I’m experiencing as I bleed out onto the floor?”

She seems to brighten at the mention of her name. “You really are your master’s apprentice. Can you not take my words at face value?”

“No,” you flatly answer, shoving the fact that she might know more about you than she lets on. “Not with all the insanity that’s going on. If you know so much about me, then you’ll know how important it is for me to get to the Godseye. I don’t have the time to bandy so carelessly.”

Alleana hums. “I promise you that when our conversation is finished, you will have more than enough time to ascend the spire.”

“And what do you mean by that?”

“Here, in the eye of the nexus, the flow of time is convoluted, especially within this amphitheater. Hours in here are seconds outside, and in the thousands of years since the descent of the False Mother, eternities have come and gone within this space...”

That doesn’t sound comforting at all. And you’re not sure where to lay the blame; at the Kakari for building their temple atop such an unstable nexus, or Jombaral for setting up shop on top of it. But begrudgingly, you decide to extend the smallest modicum of trust. Seeing as Alleana isn’t overtly hostile beyond scolding you...

Settling down into a more comfortable position, you ask, “Alright. You want to talk? Fine. But promise me that you’ll give me straight answers. No double-talk, no non-answers...I just want the truth.”

“Reasonable enough,” replies the woman, continuing to smile brightly, “...it’s the least I can do for spending time with my darling son.”

You’d roll your eyes, but you have a feeling that you’ll get another scolding. Instead, you settle for a weary sigh. Clearing your throat, you gesture towards the wider space of the amphitheater, intoning, “...again, let’s say that you aren’t Jombaral, and that you really are my mother. How did you get here?”

Quietly, you decide to keep your knowledge of Gaelles in the Outer Rim a secret. The Force works in mysterious ways, and the Dark Side leads to abilities unnatural even by Jedi standards. Teleportation, as far as you can remember, doesn’t seem to be one of them.

Oblivious to the crackpot theories conjured up by your mind, Alleana frowns, seemingly troubled. “Would you believe me if I said that I was spirited away?”

Your eyes narrow. “I thought we agreed-”

(cont.)
>>
>>4263473
“No, I didn’t mean to jape or jest,” she hurriedly moves to soothe you, raising a placating hand, “Please, you must understand that our encounter is just as much of a surprise to me as it is to you. Nostalgia and sentimentality aside...” Her eyes are troubled as she pauses to think. “...I need a moment to gather my thoughts for a coherent explanation.”

Alleana is given her moment. The previous joy and teasing in her face is gone. A cautionary probing with the Force reveals a maelstrom of emotions, even on the surface level. Melancholy and love, indescribable heartache and pain...

When she speaks, her voice is heavy: “This amphitheater is built upon the crux of the nexus, where the barriers between the living and the dead are very thin and fragile. The ancient Kakari shamen and shamanka would hold séances, reaching into the netherworld to consult their ancestors for wisdom and guidance.”

Alleana gestures to the ruins of the chains, and the altar upon which she’d been entrapped upon. “The altar is a focus for conjuring the spirit from the netherworld, and the chains are a means to anchor them here. I daresay that the Kakari ancestors might have been willing, but the bonds would hardly give off that impression, no?”

She pauses to breathe, shaking her head. “When Jombaral descended upon the Heart, the Accuser used the entirety of his power to protect this place, knowing that someone would seek the Godseye. The pilgrims that came here would have seen something similar to you, their loved ones chained upon the altar...a test of resolve and emotional stoicism, I would deign to think.”

The more you hear about this, the more troubled you are about the Communion of Spirits. Light Side, Dark Side...wherever on the alignment they place themselves is irrelevant. You don’t need to be the most zealous adherent to the Light Side of the Force to know that they’re messing with things far beyond their control. Between the Accuser and conjuring the spirits of the dead...

Once this is over, you’ll need to have a very stern talk with Bos and her acolytes about proper etiquette. People always say for the dead not to bother the living. But perhaps you’ll need to instill in them the fact that the living should not bother the dead-

It hits you like a bolt of lightning. Had you not already been sitting, the revelation might have brought you to your knees.

Any lingering trepidation is obliterated in a single instant as you stare towards Alleana in complete and utter disbelief. And damn her, the smile returns to her lips, a knowing and melancholic smile as you reach the only logical explanation for her presence.

“...you’re...you’re dea-”

She places a pale finger towards your lips. It’s warm, suffused with life and the Force, not cold like stone...not lifeless and inanimate. “...I lived my life with only a handful of regrets. But seeing you here...I will not question the Kakari or their methods.”

(cont.)
>>
>>4264116
What "love" would she have for a babe willingly given to the Jedi? No trust
>>
>>4264210
She might have died in childbirth, or her husband might have done what Dooku's dad Count Gora did and dumped him in the woods for either the Jedi or spine-wolves to find. Just saying.
>>
>>4264233
Personally I still say "who cares?". Being related to someone doesn't really mean anything.
>>
>>4264116
Suddenly, you are swept up in an embrace, engulfed in the warm smell of fresh linens and lavender. Alleana holds you tightly, as if suddenly afraid to let you go, clinging onto your limp form with all the strength that she can muster.

“The years have been long, and these recent times troubling and sad for you, my son,” she says mournfully, in a voice heavy with emotion, “And I fear that your burden will not soon ease. If you continue on, you will leave this darkness only to enter an even greater peril than before.”

...you sit there, limply, as you try to process the hurricane of emotions. There’s a yearning there, a desire that you were never able to squash out completely as a child. A desire to simply...accept it at face value for what the situation is. But then, there’s something else, another emotion that broils within your gut.

Resentment? No, not...nearly. Not angry enough. You don’t hate where you are right now. But there is still something that needs to be said, a grievance to be aired out in the open lest it fester like an infected wound.

Gently, you extricate yourself from the embrace, and match her questioning expression with a stern one of your own. “...you gave me up to the Jedi Order when I was only a newborn.”

Alleana stiffens, but makes no effort to look away or otherwise hide her face. “...you were,” she answers quietly, a complicated expression on her face. “...but it’s more complicated than that-”

“How could it be? I’ll accept that you’re the woman that brought me into the galaxy. Or, her spirit, at the very least.” At that, she flinches. “...but I owe you nothing beyond thanks for my life, and pushing me into the ranks of the Jedi Order. Likewise, you owe me nothing.”

She takes a visible offense to that. For a moment, you think that she might slap you or give you another scolding. Instead, Alleana visibly deflates, exhaling a troubled breath. Her brow furrows into a severe, melancholic frown as she struggles to find a rebuttal or answer to your declaration.

Eventually, she finds her voice, and reproachfully says, “...you’re making this very difficult, you know. Why can’t you simply accept the fact that I love you? In the here and now, from mother to son?”

“Love is not the Jedi Way,” you repeat a favored anachronism, even if you don’t nearly feel it completely, hypocrite that you are. “...and attachment leads to the Dark Side. I am not your son as much as you are my mother; we gave that up when I entered into the Order. We are simply two humans having a conversation.”

“Farren...!” Tears well up in the corners of her eyes, “...is that truly what you think?”

You offer no answer, either out of discretion to not upset her, or fear of refuting the Jedi Code. Because Force help you, you’re quite tempted to throw it out the window, the last pillar of rationale that keeps you from surrendering to the mood and emotions.

(cont.)
>>
>>4264291
Sorry lady, I call bullshit. In the infinity of stars in this galaxy, you're gonna convince us that our mother was a model-looking woman, wearing pretty clothes, and of course a warm and caring person. Riiiighttttt...

Anons, tell me I'm not the only one who found this shady as hell. Honestly, it seems more like a siren-song type of trap.
>>
>>4264337
Well it doesn't matter if it's true or not. We've got too much weight on our shoulders to let it change our mind. If we fuck this all up not only does our goofy girlfriend die, but all the scaly bois. Losing our way here is unacceptable. Winning is the only option.
>>
>>4264337
This is shady as fuck. We should repeat that we still have shit to do, and if she truly cares so much, we'll be right back after we burn an overgrown rootball to ash and burn those ashes to dust.
>>
>>4264337
Given that Jombaral hasn't made planetfall yet, and everything including our mind and soul screaming that this is our mother...
>>
>>4264357
Have you forgotten that this place has special time?
We can stay here for days and leave and only hours would have passed outside.
>>
So because we don't feel any attachment to her we can fuck her right? I mean, Arotta did blueball us...
>>
>>4264405
Let's not.
>>
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>>4264405
...no thanks.
>>
>>4264426
>>4264410
But guys she's kinda cute? And she's neither feral, comatose, nor 12 years old. This is the best we're gonna get for a while...
>>
>>4264337
the force is a gateway to many events that some would consider to be... bullshit
>>
>>4264426
I want to reduce the risk of getting splinters in our dick as much as possible, thank you very much.
>>
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>>4264291
Alleana wipes the corner of her eyes, and swallows a lump in her throat. “...very well. That’s...it’s only fair that you think of it that way. I don’t blame you, Farren...but please...I don’t want to end this encounter on a sour note for either of us.”

Might be a tad bit too late for that, you think glumly.

“I know you originally came to this planet for closure...” she continues, “...and to complete your Trials and become a Jedi Knight. But our meeting here, this encounter...it was not chance. If not my love, then at least accept a boon that might offer you.”

A boon? You frown in confusion, slowly replying, “I don’t mean to be rude-” Or at least, more so than you already are. “-but what could you possibly have to offer?”

Extending her hand out towards something in the distance, you feel the Force respond accordingly. One of the knives that you’d used against the Accuser wobbles uncertainly into the air, levitating towards her outstretched palm. With a cheeky grin, she spins the weapon in her hand, ending her flourish by balancing the hilt upon an outstretched finger.

It’s nearly impossible for you to keep your jaw off the floor. It’s not unheard of for spirits to wield supernatural powers, but to use the Force...even with the nexus acting as a locus for the dead, this kind of manipulation could only belong to a trained practitioner.

Swallowing, you stammer, “You’re Force sensitive...as a spirit, you’d naturally be...no...a Jedi?”

“...a long time ago, long before you were born,” she answers with a sad smile, “...although I never made it past Padawan. I’d left because I found something, and someone, more fulfilling than what the Jedi Code could offer..."

Her words trail off as a different emotion swells within her, the kind of feeling that one holds for a distant love. "But here, in this place where the Force is strong, I think I can still pass on something useful on your journey ahead...”

>>What boon will you ask of your mother? [Please select one]
>“Answers to questions left unanswered.” [Answers to any three questions.]
>“Esoteric secrets about the Living Force.” [Add a Force Power to your arsenal.]
>“Martial mastery over lightsaber combat.” [Learn a new lightsaber Form.]
>“Proficiency in a certain talent.” [Add 1 Rank to any skill.]
>“Nothing more than your blessing.” [Politely refuse.]
>“The only strength I require is my own.” [Bluntly refuse.]

[VOTE OPEN FOR FIVE HOURS]
>>
>>4264455
>>“The only strength I require is my own.” [Bluntly refuse.]
There is something as too good to be true.

Also, she left as a youngling yet somehow as something to teach to a fully trained padawan. Definitely not shady at all.
>>
>>4264455
No upgrading our stats?
And can we upgrade our current lightsaber styles?
>>
>>4264455
>“Nothing more than your blessing.” [Politely refuse.]

>>4264479
>this much vitriol towards one who Kaz is spelling out loud towards us is our late mother
Christ, anon, you wanna talk about it?
>>
>>4264455
>“Answers to questions left unanswered.” [Answers to any three questions.]
What was so special about this someone?
Is our father still alive, considering she abandoned the Order (presumably) for him?
What is the most immanent danger hovering over us after Jombaral?
>>
>>4264455
>“Answers to questions left unanswered.” [Answers to any three questions.]
>"A Dark acolyte mentioned a settlement where the last name Gaelle was common. If I was to find out where it was, would it be a safe place to bring or send a small group of force sensitive younglings?"
>"What about places that might be hidden-ish from the former republic?"
>"Finally, assuming I'm not hallucinating this, and everything you're saying is true... where can I find your resting place?"
>>
>>4264455
>>“Nothing more than your blessing.” [Politely refuse.]
Look lady you're a ghost. Or a tree. Whatever. Either way it's none of our business. And this isn't natural. Shouldn't play with that shit.
>>
>>4264506
Supporting this.
Please let's not bully mom.
>>
Real shame this place is due for a glassing.
I reckon we could've gotten Vader to chill the fuck out by luring him here to speak with the spirit of his mother or Padme.
>>
>>4264479
She left as a Padawan.
Just because she left the order doesn't mean she doesn't know anything about the Force and couldn't keep learning either.
She just refused the frankly retarded Jedi teachings.
>>
>>4264455
>“Answers to questions left unanswered.” [Answers to any three questions.]
support >>4264506
>>
>>4264455
Supporting >>4264506
Also, let's be nicer to our mother, dammit.
>>
>>4264554
You think that would chill him out?!
>>
>>4264455
>>“Nothing more than your blessing.” [Politely refuse.]
>>
>>4264580
I mean, maybe.
It would give him a goal at least.
If Luke could turn him back to the light side, so could Padme.
>>
>>4264484
If Lighstaber styles wins the vote, I'll have the option of either learning a new style or reinforcing one you already know.

As for stat upgrades, that'll come later down the line.
>>
>>4264455
>>4264506
This is alright with me.
I do want to ask about our father though.
>>
>>4264591
>thinking it wouldn't just reinforce vaders self-loathing and misery
>>
>>4264591
He would just chimp out. He had multiple visions of Padme and all they ever did were enrage him or make him suicidal.
>>
>>4264455
Why is everyone bullying our mother so hard?

>>4264506
Supporting.
>>
>>4264626
Or Palps letting him find it on purpose and then twisting the nexus to the dark side just to fuck with Vader some more.

I'm now imagining Palps switching Padme's face with his own during that meadow frolic scene from AotC... Ugh...
>>
>>4264637
Visions, sure.
Not her actual ghost.
>>
>>4264616
Neat
>>4264455
>“Martial mastery over lightsaber combat.” [Learn a new lightsaber Form.]
>>
>>4264506
Support
>>
>>4264570
>"never made it past Padawan"
She still knew the Jedi teaching sucked, yet she gave up her kid to them? Odd isn't it. You forgot this planet is a trial, and your jumping headfirst into the arm of whatever person says "hi son".

Also did you forget the hallucination that the clones saw, the fact they saw the mother of Jango Fett, even though the woman never meet any of them and yet called each of them her sons ?

>>4264496
It's a trap, goddamit. And why would our mother ghost look like she's sixteen?

Why are you so quick to trust her? Are you so starved for affection, you'll believe the first thing a stranger say to you?
>>
>>4264648
The nature of Vader is one of self hatred to the point of willing to damage yourself to defeat an enemy. One of the big reasons why Luke is able to get through to Vader is the fact that Palpatine could not fuck with that connection in the same ease like he could with Padme. As far as we should be concerned from a story standpoint, Padme will always be a dark reminder of Anakin's failures no matter how much he may have loved her.
>>
>>4264738
>>4264648
I'm popping off like a crazy person but here's the TL;DR of what I'm trying to get across.
Padme = Negative
Luke = Positive
>>
>>4264736
>She still knew the Jedi teaching sucked
She never said that. For the love of God calm down with the Jedi hate.
>>
>>4264755
You didn't read all of my response.
>>
>>4264736
>She still knew the Jedi teaching sucked
She left because she found love to be more important than becoming a bonafide Jedi.

>Why are you so quick to trust her?
Check my vote, does it say anything about accepting any boons?
>>
>>4264455
>“The only strength I require is my own.” [Bluntly refuse.]
Kreia: And know that that is the true lesson of strength - to turn away from strength that is not your own.
Dialog1. Were you testing me?
Kreia: I am always testing you, never forget that. Always be on your guard - otherwise, you may learn something.
>>
>>4264769
Guess she didn't love her son hard enough.
>>
>>4264506
Supporting, because why not.
>>
>>4264761
I did but the Jedi hate is extremely autistic.

See: this Kreia asshole >>4264788
>>
>>4264793
Clearly she died young, so something must've been amiss.

>>4264799
Last time I saw someone voted with "why not/I'm curious/what could go wrong", the PC ended up accepting a Faustian bargain.
>>
The denial votes are split, whereas the askers are united.
>>
If there could be one argument against her being Jombaral, aside from Jombaral probably bring in the process of re-entry right now, it would be this part:
>“When Jombaral descended upon the Heart, the Accuser used the entirety of his power to protect this place, knowing that someone would seek the Godseye.”
The fact that the accuser didn't bleed green helps skewering this accusation in the gut.
>>
>>4264455
>>“Answers to questions left unanswered.” [Answers to any three questions.]
I'll support this. >>4264506
>>
>>4264853
Keep in mind, she was chained down until the Accuser died. Now she isn't.
>>
>>4264506
Supporting. The other boons could lead us to corruption but I don't see how information could do the same.
>>
>>4264455
>>“The only strength I require is my own.” [Bluntly refuse.]

ITS A TRAP!
>>
>>4265095
>>4265120
The Kakari refer to the force as the power of the spirits, and this is a place where communion with the spirits is possible.
This is absolutely our mom, and any gift she can bestow isn't going to make us weaker...
>>
>>4264455
>>“Proficiency in a certain talent.” [Add 1 Rank to any skill.]
I want more skill ranks.
>>
>>4265120
IT'S NOT A TRAP YOU MORON, IF IT WAS SHE'D HAVE SPRING IT ALREADY!!

>>4264506
Supporting this. We can learn new shit whenever but how often do you get answers and shit from the other side?
>>
>>4264506
+1
>>
>>4264506
i am tempted to get a new lightsaber form, but this is better
>>
>>4264506
Support
>>
>>4264506
Supporting this.
>>
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>>4264506
>>4264541
>>4264575
>>4264577
>>4264620
>>4264642
>>4264734
>>4264799
>>4264860
>>4265095
>>4265206
>>4265408
>>4265442
>>4265742
>>4265754
“...I have some questions that need answering,” you slowly begin, “Questions that I hope you can answer. I wouldn’t want to impose on you any longer than necessary.”

“I can try my best,” Alleana replies, regaining some of her cheer and color. “...and it’s never imposing with family. Never, none at all.”

In spite of yourself, you manage a ghost of a smile. “A few years ago, I fought a Dark Acolyte who mentioned that there was a planet in the Outer Rim where our last name was common. If I was to find out where it was, would that place be a safe place to bring or send a small group of Force-sensitive younglings?”

A Jedi isn’t supposed to be curious, especially about their pasts. But these are trying times, and you know for a fact that Master Larid would have approved of such a question. Sanctuaries for Jedi, now more than ever since the Terror of Darth Nihilus, are in high demand. And if you happen to learn about your origins...then more power to you.

She seems surprised, then smiles warmly, intoning with wistful revere, "...our homeworld is a quaint little planet. I won’t bore you with the astrophysical details, but it would be safe. We rarely ever get visitors beyond traders and the odd pirate marauders.”

At the queer look at the last bit, she waves her hand dismissively. “Uliea might be a backwater, even among the Outer Rim, but our people know how to defend themselves.”

“And what if the Empire comes knocking?” you counter. “It won’t be long until they consolidate and seek to expand their territory.”

“That entirely depends on how much trouble you cause.” She pokes you with an accusing finger, and a stern glare. “Don’t be bringing the Sith or other renegades to our doorstep with your Jedi business, do you understand? I’ll be very upset if you do.”

...you know what, that’s fair enough. But still. “I don’t even know where it is.”

Alleana huffs playfully. “Well, if you must know...the closest system to Vetis would be Sernpidal, in the extreme galactic north, and then a handful of parsecs southward. Look for a system with a gas giant...” She pauses, clicking her tongue. “...here, if you’ll allow me...”

She raises a hand to your temple, closing her eyes in concentration. The Force murmurs, whispering as a series of thoughts and emotions are shared through the point of contact. It’s...hard to describe, but you could eke out the meaning behind it. Feelings of nostalgia, longing, an ache for home...

...the void of space opens before you, suddenly reeling as if you had entered hyperspace. Suddenly, everything freezes, stopping upon a system, focusing on one of nine planets orbiting a young, yellow star. A great, green-white gas giant burns merrily, girdled by three planets...one of which is blue and green...

(cont.)
>>
“You’ll feel it in your heart,” Alleana croons, pulling away her hand. The warmth of her palm still lingers on your cheek, even as the vision peels away into the corners of your eyes. “...when you get close to home. Better and more reliable than any navicomputer. Upon landing, seek out the House of Tunus upon the Floating City. Tell the Gatekeeper that you are the son of Alleana, and you will receive hospitality.”

>>You receive the location of the Vetis System, and the planet Uliea, a potential haven for Jedi in the Outer Rim.

Shivering at the vision, you nod shakily. “Thank you.”

“Don’t thank me yet,” she counters, smiling playfully, “I still sense that you have some questions...”

She isn’t wrong. Clearing your throat, you continue, “What about other places that might be hidden from the former Republic?”

The corner of her mouth twitches as her eyes narrow sharply. “...please don’t tell me that you’re already planning for the worst to happen in case something horrifically wrong happens to your plans for Uleia.”

“No, of course not!” Force help you, but this woman knows which buttons to press and prod! It’s a very good thing that you’re here alone. Kristen or Arotta would never have the end of it with you. “I’m only asking so that we could spread ourselves out, perhaps find some allies...interesting locations that the Empire won’t know of.”

Alleana’s lips tin in introspection. “Places that the Empire may not know of...there are several, if not hundreds within civilized space. Surely, you don’t expect for me to list them all to you...”

“No, of course not...” You shake your head. “Ah...perhaps, I can leave it upon your discretion.”

She pauses, thinking hard and deeply. Her brow furrows, and she shifts as if someone had whispered within her ear. Then, she opens her eyes, nodding, “...I will share with you what I am allowed to impart.”

“‘Allowed?’” you repeat. "...what do you mean by that?"

Alleana looks over her shoulder, as if fearful of reproach from someone or thing. “There are certain things that even I cannot say, or what any of what I or any other spirit can impart to the living. This is a special occasion, but this sort of thing is the exception to the rule, what with the circumstances we have.”

You nod, suddenly anxious. You're already messing with things beyond your understanding. Best not to push your luck. “I understand.”

She nods, smiling once more. “Now, listen to me carefully...

“In the Expansion Region, you will find a planet that had been ravaged by war, where revenge poisons and twists the minds of its soldiers. But the natives have not forgotten the good that the Jedi have brought to them. It will bring you into contact with the Empire, but there are similarly those within their ranks that do not believe the Empire’s lies.

(cont.)
>>
Honestly you guys should have probably asked about the Sith Lord that the Revanant is working for.
>>
>>4266026
>you guys should have probably
Why didn't you?
>>
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>>4266022
“In the Mid Rim, there is a planet of stone, a graveyard of twisted metal where instruments of war are broken down and remade. But among the scrap and detritus, you will find raw iron, unproven and untried, abandoned and mourning in the wake of tragedy. Forge and hone it, and you will have a powerful ally at your side.

“In the Outer Rim, there is a planet of swamps, a dark and humid bog where the Living Force is rich and verdant. However, staining it is a splotch of the Dark Side, an inkwell that would mask any sort of presence in the Light Side. This is just as much a potential haven for lost Jedi as much as a trap that would ensnare them to the Dark Side...

“Finally...” Here, her voice takes on a sorrowful note, “...in the Tingel Arm, you will find a planet where night is day, and misery permeates the very bedrock itself. Three moons stand vigil over a barren valley, over a world seeped in tragedy, bloodshed, fire and the Dark Side of the Force. Seek it when you are only truly ready, for the journey is just as dangerous as the destination...”

You still. Three moons...

“takE Me BaCK...Take Me BaCk tO tHe opEn fIRE...uNDErNeaTH the MiDniGht sKieS aNd pLaiNs OF dIs...”

“The child is mine. Begone, little Jedi.”

Recalling the broken voice of the Revenant and the prideful voice of the Storyteller causes phantom pain to shoot up the length of your arm. You grit your teeth, controlling your breathing as you flex the individual digits, wringing out any tension from the encounter with the pureblood sith.

>>You receive the locations for the following planets:
>Arkinnea, a planet in the Expansion Region, where refugees of both Separatist and the Republic flee.
>Bracca, a planet in the Mid Rim, where the only fortune to be made is from shipbreaking and scrapping.
>Dagobah, a planet in the Outer Rim, a desolate swamp void of any significant or advanced civilization.
>U’haon, a planet in the Tingel Arm, suspected to be the planet you saw in the Revenant’s vision.

“...and I’m afraid that’s all of the information that I can give at this time,” Alleana finishes mournfully, “The dead should not trouble the living any more than necessary.”

“It’s more than enough...” With these four leads, you’ve got a solid start on what to do once you get back to Mylar-3 and Master Larid. Four more planets to the list of what you pulled from the Bantha’s archives are more than gladly accepted. “...you’ve given me more than I could have ever hoped to receive.”

Her cheeks dimple. “I’m glad to see you think it so.”

“Finally...assuming that I’m not hallucinating this,” you mutter underneath your breath, but Alleana smiles quietly, knowingly. It's hard to keep your voice even, even as you continue, “...and that everything you’re saying is true...where could I find your resting place?”

(cont.)
>>
>she touched us
Great. Now we have ghost cooties. Gay.
>>
>But among the scrap and detritus, you will find raw iron, unproven and untried, abandoned and mourning in the wake of tragedy. Forge and hone it, and you will have a powerful ally at your side.
i think there is some weapon or something that was never used or finished that we can salvage
>>
So K'Kruhk, that little shit from Fallen order, and Yoda?
Wow.
Thanks mom.
Actually really useful.
>>
>>4266088
She's talking about Cal Kestis.
>>
>>4266099
Ay bro not everyone played Uncharted: Star Wars. Cal has a dumb face anyway.
>>
>>4266051
>I voted for a skill increase. Still....Bacca, Dagobah, and U'haon are major coups.
>>
>>4266102
MoCap was a mistake.
>>
>>4266102
>every jedi has to be attractive
that game was the best star wars game in years and will lead to many more. I'll take what I can get at this point.
new KOTOR game when
>>
>>4266155
Your right on this one partner. It wasn't the best game ever, but with what star wars content we received in the last decade, the game downright luxurious in comparison.
>>
>>4266194
>It wasn't the best game ever, but with what star wars content we received in the last decade, the game downright luxurious in comparison.
Still not as good as TOR or TFU2.

>>4266155
>new KOTOR game when
Please no.
>>
>>4266155
With Bioware being how it is now and EA being... EA, I'd want them as far the fuck away from making a new KOTOR as possible.

Agreed on it being the best Star Wars game this decade, though that's not saying much considering the exclusivity deal bullshit...
>>
>>4266054
>Bracca mentioned
>swell with Mongolian throat singing

https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=oJZfEh3EciU

Funny thing, they're not actually singing in mongolian. Turns out they pulled a Futurerama and made up a new language for the song, and Kal says he recognizes the band when they play in the arena! Hu in Syar Wars confirmed.
>>
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>>4266337
But on a side note, you know who we should look for? Those niggas from Force Unleashed. Shaak Ti especially. Me likey Togrutta titties.
>>
>>4266354
Felucia would be meta knowledge unfortunately. Also it's a while before her and Maris settle there. Also also Shaak Ti is... older.
>>
>>4266354
We should really list who would be good to find and who we have current leads on.
>K'Kruhk has a bunch of younglings with him and is an all round cool guy.
>Cal could be a cool Padawan as he's pretty strong.
>Yoda is Yoda. Go to him when we need guidance or training, but he can't leave Dagobah unless he wants a rematch with Sheev.
>Ahsoka. Togruta are best. No leads.
>Obi-Wan could be neat to learn his lightsaber form from him. No leads. Bring Ahsoka to Obi-Wan for sad times.
>>
>>4266361
>Big red Togrutta MILF titties
>>
>>4266375
Still can't beat Mando girl abs. Om.
>>
>>4266385
>Not wanting Big Blue’s scarred Abs
>>
>>4266407
I kinda stopped wanting it after imagining it smeared in century old reptile shit. Maybe after a month or so and a couple of baths.
>>
>>4266416
Eh, that’s just regular dirt, and after we give her the necessary sonic bath she’ll be right as rain

Also, who’s betting that the final boss is gonna be her Master who’s been fully infected
>>
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>>4266054
True surprise breaks out across her...your mother’s features. She squints, as if to search for any jape or jest in your words or expression. There are none to be found. You are deadly serious.

After a long and profound silence, she pulls you into her arms once more. Trembling with emotion, and weeping silently into your shoulder, she whispers, “...it is the custom of our people to be buried underneath saplings, so that we might return both our spirits to the Force, and our bodies to the soil. Your father laid me to rest atop the highest cliff, facing towards the sunrise of Vetis.”

Father. The first thing that comes to mind is Master Larid, and the more obscure, half-forgotten faces of the Jedi that minded and looked after Salamander Clan. Master Yoda had always been more of a grandfather figure than anything else. But they are neither of those things...your biological parent.

“...when I pay my respects,” you murmur, slowly reaching up to meet her embrace for the first time, “...I will visit him. Do have anything you wish to say?”

Alleana shakes her head, blinking away tears, “...no...the dead should not trouble the living. We made our peace with each other shortly before I passed. But...if you must tell him something, then tell him that I still love him. And that the universe would go cold, and Uliea ground to dust before my love faded away...”

Suddenly, your head throbs, and a spell of drowsiness comes over you. Limply, your arms drop to your sides as fatigue engulfs your entire body. Trying to concentrate results in nothing but more exhaustion as you collapse against your mother. “...what...”

“It looks like our time is beginning to end,” she says, looking up towards the ceiling. The amphitheater trembles, dusting the room in a cascade of dirt, “...the protection of the Accuser is beginning to fade away.”

You struggle to stay conscious. “...wait.”

“There’s nothing left for us to say,” your mother intones, cupping your face. Leaning in, she plants a tender kiss upon your forehead. “It’s time for us both to return to our respective realms of the living and the dead. Go now, my son. I only ask that you think of me from time to time.”

“...mom...” you croak, just before the darkness takes you, trying desperately to reach for her just one more time.

“...and tell Brethon that I’m so grateful for everything he’s done for you.”

The last sight you have is her bright smile, and the smell of lavender and linens...

>>Later

When you wake up, you find yourself in an empty amphitheater, just as decrepit as it had been upon your arrival. There are no signs of the battle between you and the Accuser, no tools and debris scattered about the room, no chains and a cracked ruin where the altar had been standing.

Was it all just a dream?

Groaning, you prop yourself off the floor, blindly groping in the dim lighting...

...and your hands brush against the haft of the Sunspear.

(cont.)
>>
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Your knuckles turn white as you grip the weapon, using it as a crutch to stand. The corpse of its owner, the Accuser of Pilgrims, is nowhere to be found. Where you thought you’d laid him low is nothing but a pile of ash and dust.

“...not a dream,” you grunt, appraising yourself for injuries. Both arms are in fine working order. Right wrist tendon...aching, but serviceable. Dozens of scratches and itchiness along your body...annoying, but tolerable. “...bastard could’ve gone out of his way to make it hurt less though...”

Checking your chrono reveals that little under five minutes have passed since your entry into the amphitheater. Alleana had been right. Time had been convoluted. What had felt like hours had only passed in minutes...and the power within the amphitheater is but a pale frame of what it once was.

Even without the False Mother on the planet, it would not take long before her insidious presence and/or children claimed it for themselves.

Dusting your robes, you take the Sunspear, affixing it to your back with an impromptu baldric. And with a look of finality, you lower your head and pay your respects to the dead. “Goodbye, mom...”

And you continue your journey into the depths of the temple.

=Line Break=

The Accuser had been protecting a lift of all things, an elevator of primitive design. Four thousand years’ worth of cobwebs and dust have accumulated on the mechanism. A quick glance up reveals an elevator shaft that seemingly goes on forever. It could only be the quickest and direct path to the central spire, a straight shot up.

A tentative poke at the stone gears and gyros causes them to stir to life, wheezing as some unseen power source slowly reacts to your presence. The lift shudders for a moment, not unlike a wild beast shaking vigorously to rid itself of dirt and grime. And then, the activity peters out, leaving a powered lift ready for your use.

...the Kakari must have truly been something before the Call of Jombaral, you muse as you throw what you believe to be a switch. The platform shudders, and the stonework groans as it begins the ascension up the shaft, towards the spire of the Godseye. Their technology is quite unique, a harmonious feat of engineering that unifies power source and crude stoneworks.

There are no other floors or stops for the lift. As soon as the ceiling comes within touching distance after a few tense minutes, the lift grinds and groans to a halt, locking itself in place. Before you is a stone door, two slabs thrumming with energy as you step off the lift. They shudder at your approach, pulling back to reveal the chamber of the Godseye.

Your breath catches at the sight, and the steps that propel you forward seem to be taken by another person. The room itself is a marvel of architecture, but the true wonder lies in the object housed within its center.

(cont.)
>>
>>4266575
We are so taking a fragment of this and crafting a new lightsaber with it.
>>
>>4266575
There is no doubt that this is the Godseye. And beholding it, you can easily see how it came to bear such a moniker. It’s a giant sunstone, easily the largest you’d ever seen. But unlike the one in the ceiling of Nest’s End, giving artificial light to the underground city, this one has been cut, hewn into a more focused and refined prism. How it levitates is a mystery that you could not even begin to comprehend.

Your steps are loud, echoing along the stone walls in a symphony with dripping water. The Godseye only grows in size as you approach it, easily the size of a small building in height. There isn’t any presence of Jombaral as much as there is of the sunstone. The prism itself exudes a great and tremendous Force presence, as if amplifying the nexus beneath it-

“It’s like a giant lightsaber crystal!” you marvel. Curiosity takes hold, and you briefly ponder how many ‘sabers you could power with the Godseye. Then again, considering how this appears to be a sacred object to the Kakari...

The Godseye itself pulses with power...but it feels inert. It has all of this power focused within itself, but without any use for it, without any focus.

“...enkindle, enkindle...” Recalling the words of both Arotta and the Accuser, you pace underneath the crystal, a deep frown as you puzzle out the intent of the pilgrims. “...set on fire...arouse emotions...burn it all away...”

You take a wayward glance to your hand...and conjure a small flame in your empty palm. As if in response, the Godseye shudders flickering from a slow, steady blue hue to a pulsating, vibrant red, gently lowering itself down to your height. Inversely, the prism beneath the surface of the water change colors, slowly rising from the depths to stand as great monoliths and edifices.

“...guess it’d be too much to ask for an instruction manual, huh?” you murmur to no one as you slowly approach the foci. Extinguishing the flame in your palm, you cautiously place a tentative hand upon the crystal. “Burn it all away...”

The monoliths shudder, contorting into an inverse spheroid that encircles the platform, yourself and the Godseye, leaving only a small gap in the top for its radiance to escape. The impurities along them seem to flow like butter, skittering along the surface to form indistinct shapes, puzzling, seemingly-random formations without any rhyme or reason...wait, are those landmasses?

“Bring down the skies...”

...the dome has to go before you can do anything else. And if the Godseye does what you think it does, and how it responded to your use of the Force...the ceiling of the room appears to be entirely blocked off, choked by bramble and vines that writhe and seek further entry.

(cont.)
>>
Secondary glances along the walls reveal more carvings, this time undisturbed by a feral togrutta. From the skies, a crude image of a gigantic being plucks something from its skull, and bestows it upon a grateful and willing group of Kakari. A god, perhaps? Perhaps the original father of the Kakari pantheon to the (False) Mother that Jombaral would usurp.

The next vista shows the process of the temple’s construction, with stone slabs hauled by greats beasts of burden. The instillation follows soon, with the entire heart bowing and worshiping at the foot of a spear-wielding shaman. You cast a quick look towards the spear on your back, and back to the spear that the stone warrior wields. Not...nearly the same, you think.

But it’s the next image that stops you dead in your tracks. Objects that could only be asteroids rain down from the sky. The Kakari pray to the shaman for protection, who brandishes flames in its hands. The tendrils lick up towards the Godseye, from which a barrier soon engulfs the entire city that the rocks smash helplessly against.

And yet another carving shows a great monster, a beast the size of a small city that looks nothing like Jombaral or her children, racing towards the Heart. The shaman lifts its hands, igniting the Godseye in a similar way. But instead of a shield, spears of light burst and refract from each surface, skewering the beast in a hail of blades.

...if you’re reading the carvings right, this temple is equal measures a place of worship, a shield generator...and a gods-damned superweapon. Which begs the question of why the Accuser didn’t just up sticks and ignite the damn thing himself...themselves.

Still, that’s neither here, nor there. At least with a rough understanding of what “enkindling” the Godseye will do...all that’s left is to puzzle out the best source of action.

>>What will you do?
>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the protective shield, and carefully burn the dome away with a controlled flame. [Gain Light Side points]
>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the superweapon, and burn the dome away and the nurseries in a raging inferno. [Gain Dark Side points]

[VOTE OPEN FOR FOUR HOURS]
>>
>>4266703
>>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the superweapon, and burn the dome away and the nurseries in a raging inferno. [Gain Dark Side points]
Eat shit Jombitch.
>>
>>4266703
>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the protective shield, and carefully burn the dome away with a controlled flame. [Gain Light Side points]

Yes yes, give us the good boy points.
Guys we should totally take this crystal with us to turn into our own superweapon.
I want to nuke Star Destroyers and make Palpatine seethe.
>>
>>4266703
>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the protective shield, and carefully burn the dome away with a controlled flame. [Gain Light Side points]

>>4266708
She will in time anon, but we don't wanna leave the lizards with no protection, or burn this fucking place back to the sandy shit hole it was.
>>
>>4266703
>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the protective shield, and carefully burn the dome away with a controlled flame. [Gain Light Side points]
Why should we gain Dark side points when the Dark side's going to finish the job for us whether or not we go Dark side?
>>
>>4266703
>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the superweapon, and burn the dome away and the nurseries in a raging inferno. [Gain Dark Side points]
I guess the best way to kill plants is to be unnatural.
>>
>>4266703
>>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the superweapon, and burn the dome away and the nurseries in a raging inferno. [Gain Dark Side points]
>>
>>4266715
>or burn this fucking place back to the sandy shit hole it was.
But that's what the lizards LIKE
>>
>>4266718
>>4266720
Guys, come on, what would Brethon think? We got the chad force flammenwerfer, why settle for virgin lightning?
>>
>>4266724
They're leaving this place, anon. They can't stay here to be glassed once, much less twice.
>>
>>4266724
My nigga that's what got them into this mess in the first place my dude. They called Jomb cause they were roasting alive, we'd just be screwing them ober a second time.
>>
>>4266703
This is only the dome and the nurseries near us. If we go Light, the nurseries will probably aggro towards us. If we go dark, Master will either start fighting cornered beasts, or find herself having a lot fewer enemies to deal with as they redirect towards us.

gonna go with
>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the superweapon, and burn the dome away and the nurseries in a raging inferno. [Gain Dark Side points]
>>
>>4266703
>>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the protective shield, and carefully burn the dome away with a controlled flame. [Gain Light Side points]
>>
>>4266703
>>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the protective shield, and carefully burn the dome away with a controlled flame. [Gain Light Side points]
This has been a good arc but I'm ready for it to be over.
>>
>>4266703
>>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the protective shield, and carefully burn the dome away with a controlled flame. [Gain Light Side points]
>>
>>4266703
>>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the superweapon, and burn the dome away and the nurseries in a raging inferno. [Gain Dark Side points]
>>
Oh, yeah, if we go superweapon, we're probably going to toast our mount, so it's going to be a bitch and a half getting back to the cave.
>>
>>4266766
We also might toast waifu and her master if he master isn't a tree.
>>
>>4266703
>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the protective shield, and carefully burn the dome away with a controlled flame. [Gain Light Side points]
Let's not shoot ourselves in the foot with collateral damage
>>
>>4266703
>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the protective shield, and carefully burn the dome away with a controlled flame. [Gain Light Side points]
The extra mobs are gonna be a bitch on the final assault but collateral damage is something to keep in mind.
>>
>>4266766
Other way around, dude. If we put up the barrier, the plants are going to bunch up around the barrier and everywhere near it.

The mount is not in the barrier range.
>>
>>4266678
>>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the protective shield, and carefully burn the dome away with a controlled flame. [Gain Light Side points]
>>
>>4266703
>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the protective shield, and carefully burn the dome away with a controlled flame. [Gain Light Side points]
>>
>>4266703
>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the protective shield, and carefully burn the dome away with a controlled flame. [Gain Light Side points]
>>
>>4266703
What exactly is stopping us from carefully burning the dome away with the protective shield, but also sending targeted strikes towards the nurseries to still cause some damage; just not as much?
>>
>>4266910
Because balance doesn't exist in Star Wars. You either do it half assed and boring because "Light side" or go full insane laughter and no control with "Dark side"
>>
>>4266703
>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the protective shield, and carefully burn the dome away with a controlled flame. [Gain Light Side points]
>>
>>4266703
>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the protective shield, and carefully burn the dome away with a controlled flame. [Gain Light Side points]
It’s not about doing what’s easy, it’s doing what’s Right
>>
>>4267062
That's a funny thing to say when JUSTICE is so close yet you refuse it.
>>
>>4267062
>It’s not about doing what’s easy, it’s doing what’s Right.
And doing what's RIGHT isn't the same as doing what's CORRECT.
Subjectively, choosing the light side option would accomplish our goal and nothing more.
Objectively, choosing the dark side option would also accomplish our goal AND reduce the number of threats everyone would have to face, thereby SAVING MORE LIVES.

To borrow from another sci-fi: "The needs of the many outweigh the needs of the few. Or the one."
Our to be even more blunt and direct: What would our Jedi Shadow of a master do.

>Hint: It's burn it to the fucking ground.
>>
>>4267076
Maybe you're right.

Jombaral doesn't make it planetside until tomorrow, right
>>
>>4267080
That second half was for Kaz. To Farren's knowledge, would Jombaral still be in space at this moment?
>>
>>4267076
Won't this help the evacuation from the planet if we use the barrier?
If we activate the weapon we may be able to kill many, but if we use the shield can't we protect even more?
>>
>>4266703
>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the protective shield, and carefully burn the dome away with a controlled flame. [Gain Light Side points]
>>
>>4266703
>>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the protective shield, and carefully burn the dome away with a controlled flame. [Gain Light Side points]
>>
>>4267087
Jombaral is off-planet at the moment, although no-one knows when she's coming back. The timer is the countdown for you to return to Mylar-3 within the deadline Master Larid set before he assumes the worst (i.e. you were captured, killed, etc.).
>>
>>4266703
>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the protective shield, and carefully burn the dome away with a controlled flame. [Gain Light Side points]
>>
>>4266703
>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the protective shield, and carefully burn the dome away with a controlled flame. [Gain Light Side points]
>>
>>4266703
>>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the protective shield, and carefully burn the dome away with a controlled flame. [Gain Light Side points]
>>
>>4266703
>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the superweapon, and burn the dome away and the nurseries in a raging inferno. [Gain Dark Side points]
We must also hijack the death star, like yoda in that one comic
>>
>>4266703
>You will enkindle the Godseye to activate the protective shield, and carefully burn the dome away with a controlled flame. [Gain Light Side points]
In my opinion, we shouldn't try the riskiest thing when we have only a rough idea of how to operate the Godseye. In the short term it might be better to have a somewhat safe area than to do anything that might invite immediate retaliation from Kakarit's worst.
>>
>>4267595
Yeah I'm sure Bos has an instruction manual lying around so we can better understand this thing somewhere. Or that we'll get another shot at this.

Come on anon do the dankside choice for justice.
>>
>>4268281
The vote closed 16 hours ago, you realise?
>>
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>>4266708
>>4266714
>>4266715
>>4266716
>>4266718
>>4266720
>>4266735
>>4266738
>>4266747
>>4266748
>>4266763
>>4266774
>>4266779
>>4266852
>>4266866
>>4266876
>>4267044
>>4267062
>>4267105
...the Godseye is a focus, meant to amplify the energies of the Force nexus, augmenting the power of the one who would use it. And with such power at your fingertips comes the duty to use it in a responsible, controlled fashion.

>You have gained +5 Light Side points.

The sensation of your palm against the prism is not unlike grabbing a charged electrical wire. It thrums with the Living Force, pulsating with unspent energy accumulated over thousands of years. The feeling is strange and alien, but not entirely uncomfortable.

“...alright...” you murmur, conjuring Flame from your palm, “...let’s see if I can’t make this work...”

The crystal shudders, almost groaning as it hums and beats with power. It quickens, pulsating at an even faster cadence as you imbibe it with power and intent, the will to be its guiding hand and keep it from running wild and free. You’d almost say that the Godseye is eager, like a pet that longs for activity and exercise.

“...steady, now...”

Its ‘heartbeat’ turns from a rapid pulse to a high-pitched whine, an oscillating noise that causes the stonework itself to tremble. Your teeth begin to ache, but you hold on to the Godseye, as the walls of the spire begin to groan. Stone and crystal seemingly bend to your will, aligning themselves into the configuration you desire...prisms and polished surfaces that would reflect the radiance of the Godseye against the enemies of the Kakari...

No. That isn’t what you want. Frantically, you reign in the flow of power, until the prisms return to the walls, and the surfaces are muddied once more. Not the weapon...but the shield. The shield that would ensure the methodical, careful destruction of the dome.

Suddenly, the Godseye pulses a deep and low warning, before suddenly bursting with the radiance of a newborn stare. Against the intense heat, the vines and limbs that choke the spire react violently. They shriek without mouths, writhing and pulling away lest they be scalded by the intensity of the light. As it stands, you can barely see, even with your free hand covering your eyes protectively.

From its tip, the sunstone unleashes a radiant beam of energy, focused upon some distant point in the ceiling. It stops at another crystal, a sunstone that absorbs the power, socketed into the carving of a great lizard god. And from the god’s eye, the energy spreads across the carving, illuminating the entire pantheon of the Kakari gods, carved in the stone walls of the great spire.

You know their names, somehow, in spite of never hearing of them, identifying each one as they glow with power:

“Kakerox, the Eternal Father...

“Jombaral, the Verdant Mother...

“Vigros, the Shattered Son...

“Kyarix, the Bright Daughter...”

(cont.)
>>
>>4268439
Fucking KNEW it would be Atlantis
>>
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>>4268456
"Atlantis" and "Treasure Planet" are the only Disney 2D films that I'd settle for a fucking remake, desu. Although now that I think about it, I think "Atlantis" was the starting point for my predilection towards blondes and dark-skinned waifus, kek.
>>
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>>4268496
Patrician taste
<spoiler> and honestly same, it’s definitely effected my tastes for a lot of stuff including women and settings </spoiler>
>>
>>4268439
...and a great many more: Hell’s Gatekeeper, the Laughing Storm, the Twilight Rose and Balance Keeper. All have their own sunstone embedded within their eyes...twelve in total. Idly, you take a count of the gems that power your plundered Sunspear. Only...six, it seems like.

There is a great noise, the sound of stones breaking and crumbling as the masks of the gods tear themselves from the walls and bodies. Imbibed with the power of the nexus, they dance high and along the pillar of light emitted by the Godseye. They climb higher, higher into the air, until it might seem that they would crash into the dome.

With a loud CRASH, the top of the spire is obliterated as the masks of the gods ascend into the afternoon skies of Kakarit. But even in the depths of the spire, you can make out the sound of the Children, and the nurseries around the Heart, stirring to life at the sight of the masks. Their orbit widens, until you can no longer see them within a few moments after their ascension.

And that’s when it happens. Like the sound of a tremendous bell, the Godseye does not glow as much as it expels a tremendous surge of power. The backblast is enough to knock you back from the sunstone, crashing painfully against the spheroid of quartz. There’s little time for you to otherwise wince or rub your sore backside as the stone masks activate, heralded by the sound of a muffled thwoom.

You don’t see it as much as you feel it. Ozone and electricity fills your mouth as the shield activates, blasting out an expanding-field of pure Force energy. And high above the spire, you can just make out the sight of the dome...and how the vines and plants violently react to the expanding shield. But there’s nowhere for it to go, nowhere for the tendrils to maneuver as the barrier slams violently into the dome with the force of an angry god.

Dimly, you can hear the noise of the Children screaming as something happens to them. As the first rays of sunlight begin to drift through the holes, burning through the thick vines, your comm suddenly blares to life. Messages from the Clones and your crew suddenly flood in, reports about the ongoing news of Nest’s End and preparations to evacuate. Resistance is expected, but you’ll have to come back and convince the Kakari to flee...

Suddenly, you get a call. It’s the Separatists. You accept it, muttering, “Gaelle here-“

“What the hell is going on?!” the irate voice of Commodore Octavia Pullo Mercantor barks over the comm. “An entire grid just lit up like a Yueltide bonfire!”

If she expected you to understand the reference, then she’d be disappointed that you didn’t. But a Yueltide bonfire must be quite the conflagration. “...and you called me, because?”

Snorting derisively, she replies, “Don't play coy with me, Gaelle. Only a Jedi could be responsible for this kind of nonsense. What the hell did you even do?

(cont.)
>>
“I applied the scalpel,” you shoot back, recalling the conversation you had in her study, “Although instead of Severing, it turns out I had to jumpstart an ancient energy grid. Although we still have the Womb to try and puzzle out. Why, what’s it look like?”

“‘What’s it look like,’ he asks...wait, you can’t see it?”

“...no. I’m in the bottom of a spire that goes up about five stories in the air. I can’t see anything beyond a blue beam of light.”

“Huh. At any rate, it looks like we’ve got a huge fire in the northern grid. And for whatever reason, it’s self-contained, and isn’t spreading beyond a certain radius.”

You try not to sag in relief. Starting a forest fire would have been the last thing you’d have wanted, even if the Children and False Mother had it coming. “That means the shield is working.”

“Shield? What shield?” demands the commodore. “Gaelle, where the hell are you?”

“Ancient technology, and an old, pre-Mother city,” you deadpan back, propping yourself up. With a command, the spheroid of quartz melts away, exposing the Godseye and yourself to the rest of the room. Quickly recounting your adventure, sans the supernatural encounter in the amphitheater, you finish, “And I think we’ve got ourselves as safe a base as we could get once the dome is burned away. Real estate here in the Heart of Kakarit is at an all-time premium.”

There’s an audible excitement as Octavia runs the calculations. “We’ll be there within the hour. Standby to receive and lower the shield-”

The last of the quartz finally peels away from the pedestal of the Godseye, revealing the far end of the room, and the bridge that leads to another exit. And in the doorway hovers a familiar figure, an aberration in the Force that causes your heart to nearly leap up into your chest.

“...I’m gonna have to call you back, Octavia,” you mutter, “Something just came up.”
“Came up? Gaelle, what the hell are you even-”

The commodore’s voice cuts off just as you pull out your weapons. In your dominant hand is your lightsaber, bursting to life with a flick of a button. The Liar’s Blade rests in your other hand, clenched in a tight grip. A million questions run through your head, like how the hell it got here, but you cast them to the wayside, ignoring all other thoughts beyond formulating a battle strategy against the Herald of Jombaral.

It levitates down a familiar set of stairs, mirror to the way that you’d entered. Panicking, you quickly interpose yourself between the abomination and the Godseye. The protection of the giant crystal isn’t necessarily your first and foremost duty, but you’ll be damned if you allowed the damn thing to lay one slimy root upon the Godseye after all you did to get here.

Shouting, you brandish your weapons: “Stay back! I’m warning you-”

(cont.)
>>
The creature doesn’t...it doesn’t speak. It lacks the mouth and body parts to properly enunciate or mimic acoustic speech. Instead, the core of its being seems to vibrate, and in those sonic noises, your ears can distinguish emotions of surprise and shock.

...according to Bos, the Herald had once been a Kakari, no different than either her or Prince Troxl, and closer to the former with his talent with the Force. Thousands of years ago, when a nearby star had gone supernova and flash-fried the desert planet of Kakari, he’d been the one to first hear her call, summoning her from the void and proclaiming her glory as savior.

True to her word, she not only saved them from a slow and agonizing death, but gave them immortality. They seemed to have different definitions, unfortunately. They’d quickly turned what Kakari hadn’t escaped underground into the trees that litter the planet’s surface.

Worse is what the Herald has become. Within the blue core enveloped by vines and thicket are an “untold” number of trapped souls, ripped from those that had either gone to slay it. The irony of how close that story is to a wayward Jedi being corrupted by the Dark Side isn’t lost on you. As it stands, the closest thing to even compare to the Herald is Darth Nihilus, and the Lord of Hunger had nearly brought the Jedi Order to its knees.

And if you’re being honest? You’ve had your fair share of Force Entities, if not more. Between the bullshit of your first encounter with the Herald, the dream of Jombaral, your encounter with the Accuser and your mother...it’s been a trying few days, is all you’re saying.

But you don’t need to panic. Whatever force seems to be anathema to the Children quickly applies to the Herald. Within a dozen meters of approaching the Godseye, its branches begin to writhe, and its tattered robes begin to smoke. It stops abruptly, testing the air, rewarded for his efforts by quickly retracting a smoking vine.

The Herald’s voice ‘speaks’ once more, but instead of subsonic vibrations, you can actually make out faint words, like a midsummer breeze raising gooseflesh along your skin: “...Cruqu...Aqa-xi...Encaocl...Yhapuza...” It lists forty-six more names, raising a tendril to point at the spear at your back. “...Accuser-slayer...”

...they could only have been the individuals that comprised the Accuser of Pilgrims.

“...I hope they weren’t your friends,” you shoot back, still holding your weapons out. Even with the Godseye keeping the bastard a good distance away, you aren’t taking any chances. “...oh, wait. They probably were, considering how old he was...they were. Not that you don’t have any friends considering what you did to them.”

It’s a puerile jape, but one you hope pokes a raw nerve.

The Herald tilts its head curiously, and you try not to start as coherency enters its sentences: “...nurseries...not burning...Children driven away...”

(cont.)
>>
...wait a moment. Driven away? Okay, the dome is burning, that much you could infer from Octavia’s panicked call. But instead of burning the nurseries, it just...forced all the Children to up sticks and leave? That’s...hoo boy.

“Believe me, I was really tempted,” you snap, “I was really, really tempted to just start a bloody forest fire and damn all the consequences...”

“And yet...you did not,” the aberration counters.

It really had been tempting. The Children would have shriveled up and died, screaming in pain, smoldering as the flames devoured them, cooked within the very soil that nurtured and fed them. It would have been a slow death, no more just a punishment as equal measures a cleansing action for the sins of their Mother.

The sight certainly would have brought a smile to your face...maybe even changed the color of your eyes for a few seconds.

“...oy, you bastard, don’t go changing the subject,” you mutter threateningly, “I still owe you for nearly ripping my arm off. I’m halfway tempted to just leapfrog over to you, and damn the shield.”

It offers no answer. “...spared Children...make offering...”

An offering? “Like hell I did it-”

“Accuser-spear,” it interrupts, pointing a thorny tendril at the plundered weapon, “...rightful weapon...only shaman-”

You try not to laugh. It comes out more of a hoarse, scornful wheeze than anything else. “A shaman of the Kakari? You, a shaman, after all you’ve done, what you brought down upon your entire planet? And here I thought that wooden personalities were incapable of humor, even if it is in bad taste.

“Hell, the lady who gave me this weapon?” you brandish the Liar’s Blade in front of him, “She trained me in your Communion arts! I might not have the scales, but I’m more a shaman than you are at the moment.”

The orbs that constitute the core of its body flash a dangerous red, and for a perilous moment, that terrible sensation nearly fills the room, robbing you of your connection to the Force. That, it seems, has struck a nerve with the Herald. “Bos...not tell...everything...”

You didn’t mention her name. In any other circumstance it might have come as a shock. Although considering how guilt-ridden she is of sending warriors to fight her battles...and said warriors are trapped within the entity...wait a moment. Wasn’t that similar to the Accuser, willing as the shamen had been to bind themselves together?

...ech. Coincidences aside, you don’t need much in the way to believe that the nemesis of the Communion of Spirits would know about its grand shamanka.

“She told me you killed her son.” The light of the Godseye shines off of the Liar’s Blade. “And I figure that the least I can do to repay her for taking me in is setting his soul to rest, him and all the poor souls you’ve devoured.”

(cont.)
>>
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You hear a sound like distant thunder, a low, recurring pulse, a noise so close that it buzzes your teeth and hurts your bones. But it doesn’t come from the Godseye or the distant masks that power the shield. When you realize what it is, the righteous fury that'd been building up within you comes to a boil.

“...you’re laughing,” you accuse the Herald, “...four thousand years of misery and bloodshed are on your hands, and you’re laughing.”

In its morbid amusement, it seems that clear enunciation has returned to the Herald: “Foolish warm-blood, pitifully crawling about in ignorance! You are little more than a dung beetle before my power, and a beetle has only power atop his ball of excrement. Why do you think it is called a Liar’s Blade? It is no more capable of telling the truth than the one who entrusted it to you in the first place.”

Everyone has their secrets. You of all people know that better than most. “Bold words from somebody scared of getting a suntan.”

“...but for an insect, you’ve accomplished many things since your arrival.” Bristling, you’re about to let him know that his praise is as worthless as his analogue about dung beetles before he continues “The alien we subdued has not nearly been as demonstrative...”

Master Kosa!

“...but let it not be known that the Children are ungrateful,” continues the abomination, “Henceforth, for sparing the nurseries, you will be untried and uncontested should you encounter the Children.”

“If you’re feeling so generous,” you irritably snap, “Then why don’t you just give me Master Kosa, and we’ll go off on our merry ways. Hell, there’s an entire planet worth of people who deserve more mercy than you’re giving me-”

Much to your surprise, the Herald agrees. “...acceptable.”

Your brain comes to a nearly audible halt. "Wait, what?!"

It points to the Sunspear. “I will have my birthright. Bring the Sunspear to the edge of the Heart. Surrender the weapon, and your Jedi Master will be returned in full physical health...Farren Gaelle.”

Starting at the mention of your name, you’d swear that the Herald is downright smiling. “...the Children know of you, Farren Gaelle, from both the twi’lek and the togruta’s minds: lover of the feral one, Scion of the Shadow, Hunts-From-Darkness, Eater-of-Evil...be warned and know that any duplicity will be severely punished...”

The Herald doesn’t float away as much as it disappears, growing translucent, transparent as its Force signature disappears from the Spire of the Godseye...leaving you alone with only a giant crystal, the headless carvings of the Kakari pantheon, and your own furious thoughts that speak simultaneously.

>>What will you do?
>Accept the offer. Exchange the Sunspear for Master Uyer Kosa.
>Refuse the offer. The exchange seems to be far too good to be true.

[VOTE OPEN FOR SEVEN HOURS]
>>
>>4271265
>>Refuse the offer. The exchange seems to be far too good to be true.
Either the sharp stick is way more important than we think or this is a trap. I don't care. Fuck this shrub.
>>
>>4271265
>Accept the offer. Exchange the Sunspear for Master Uyer Kosa.

Screw this planet, lets get the master and our crew together and bug out.
>>
>>4271265
>>Refuse the offer. The exchange seems to be far too good to be true.

Fuck this bitch. No deal - We're getting the Master back and we're keeping the Sunspear.
>>
>>4271265
>Refuse the offer. The exchange seems to be far too good to be true.
>>
>>4271265
>Accept the offer. Exchange the Sunspear for Master Uyer Kosa.
As cool as the cool spear is, it's needless for us to keep.
I say let Vader deal with this shit or let the laser bombardment, at least.
The Jedi Master is more important than sperging at the prick tree.
But we do still need to free the souls trapped within it...

We can do that when Uyer isn't likely to be held hostage.
Then we can fight treefucker to reclaim the spear.
>>
>>4271265
I'm leaning on no. If he had asked for the Liar's blade, sure, but it seems to me like 6 of the gods are not happy with the other 6, and we're only at a stalemate because of that.

>Take it to Bos, you need answers, lies or not.
What would the Liar's blade actually do? Absorb the souls to power a better barrier? That might survive the Exterminatus, at least.
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>>4271286
>What would the Liar's blade actually do?
Presumably not what it says it would.
>>
>>4271265
>Refuse the offer. The exchange seems to be far too good to be true.
The Herald crushed our hand the first time around, so it can't be bargaining in good faith. It's probably trying to pressure us into making a bad deal by threatening Master Kosa because we have the upper hand right now. It could very well be stalling for time until Jombaral comes back.
Even so, we need to talk to Bos, if only to confirm that it's lying about the blade to throw us off our game.
>>
>>4271265
>>Refuse the offer. The exchange seems to be far too good to be true.
>>
>>4271265
>Refuse the offer. The exchange seems to be far too good to be true.
>>
>>4271265
>Accept the offer. Exchange the Sunspear for Master Uyer Kosa.
We need all the Jedi we can get. Also I'm sure Arotta would love being told we let her master live a short, painful life as a tree before dying in a fireball so we could get a shiny sword.
>>
>>4271265
>Accept the offer. Exchange the Sunspear for Master Uyer Kosa.
>>
>>4271265
>Accept the offer. Exchange the Sunspear for Master Uyer Kosa.

I don't like it, but we can always come back later if this turns out to be a mistake.
>>
>>4271265
>Refuse the offer. The exchange seems to be far too good to be true.
Yeah, nah fuck the plants
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>>4271265
>>Refuse the offer. The exchange seems to be far too good to be true.
>>
>>4271265
>Refuse the offer.
It feels a bit like condemning the Accuser’s souls to become part of what it fought so hard to keep others from becoming, so sorry, but no deal.
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>>4271265
>Refuse the offer. The exchange seems to be far too good to be true.
>>
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>>4271485
>but we can always come back later if this turns out to be a mistake.
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>>4271265
>Refuse the offer. The exchange seems to be far too good to be true.
Off is the direction I wish for you to enact the action of Fuck, oh Herald.
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>>4271265
Can we call our companions and have them get in touch with Kos for an explanation
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page 10
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>>4271265
>>Refuse the offer. The exchange seems to be far too good to be true.

We've come to far to throw it all away.
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>>4271265
>Refuse the offer. The exchange seems to be far too good to be true.
>>
Wew, did Kaz get JORMB'ed?
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>>4271268
>>4271273
>>4271275
>>4271277
>>4271281
>>4271286
>>4271313
>>4271321
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>>4274070

>>Later...

By the time the dome finishes burning, the distant sun of Behrillia had already begun its descent. For the first time in as many as four thousand years, an evening sky and the stars of the wider galaxy gaze down upon Heart of Kakarit. The vista is only marred by the sight of the stone masks, bathing the city in an ethereal light as the shield continues to hold.

It only opens once. The tell-tale sound of ion thrusters heralds the arrival of the Separatist core ship. At your command and Octavia’s warning, two of the twelve masks pull apart, creating a gap for the ship to enter. Once its confirmed all the way through, you seal it just as quickly.

The pathway opposite the entrance from the lift takes outside of the temple, from the highest vantage point of the Heart. Collapsing down on a nearby set of steps, you take a moment to gather your breath an energy, and watch with horrified amusement as the core ship struggles to find a landing spot.

Try as they might have, even the largest open space struggled to contain the sheer bulk of the core ship. The ground trembles as the ship extends its landing gear, crushing several buildings and upending the ground in a large cloud of dust. It’s hard not to wince. Hopefully Troxl and the rest of the Kakari won’t mind the property damage.

The hangar bay doors open slightly, releasing a faint shadow from within the hull. Idly, you recognize it as a Sheathipede-class shuttle, the iconic transport ship of the Trade Federation. It makes a beeline towards the highest tier of the ziggurat...most likely for the space at the foot of the spire. There’s little room else-wise for it to set place down upon.

...time to face the music, you think to yourself, eying the several hundred steps leading down from the spire. It doesn’t take you too long to make it down. By the time you settle comfortably at the foot of the stairs, the shuttle lands, blowing decompressed air in your face as its engines spool down.

The shuttle opens, revealing that the commodore had taken no chances in spite of the reclamation. Covered head to toe in a protective enviro-suit, Octavia struts down the extending walkway. Her eyes have little focus for the splendor of the ancient city beyond analyzing choke points, kill zones, sniper vantages, and dig-sites for gun and mortar nests.

However, even with the ceasefire, her escort of B2 superbattle droids does little to put you at ease. Four pairs of red sensors appraise you, analyzing, acquiring targeting solutions...tensing when they see the lightsaber on your belt. The glare that you give to each other is very much mutual. The supers killed a lot of good Jedi, and in turn, the Jedi turned a lot of supers into scrap metal.

(cont.)
>>
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Oblivious (not likely) to your discomfort, the commodore presses a button on her suit. From the external speakers, her voice muses, “I always wondered what was underneath that canopy. Not even a sustained barrage of artillery could even come close to penetrating it.”

“Glad to see you’re alright,” you murmur, “They didn’t give you hell for trying to escape, did they?”

Octavia grimaces. “I lost two full companies and three tri-droid squadrons to cover our escape. They bought us time against the renewed assault when the damned trees saw us blasting off from the bog.”

“I’m sorry,” you quickly offer.

“Last time I checked, you aren’t working for the Mother. There’s no need for you to apologize. Although...” A thought comes to her mind. “...tell me where you found that tactical droid of yours, and we’ll call it even. I hazard a safe guess that we won’t be able to return to our homeworld to replenish the droids we lost.”

Considering that Altos, kind as he had been, had come to the Great Trade on Mylar...hopefully he made it out of the slaves’ rebellion without too much damage. But you privately doubt that the droid merchant could spruce up enough product to outfit an entire core ship’s worth of droids.

“...I’ll see what I can do.”

She offers a rare, somewhat tight, but genuine smile, before returning to her brusque, no-nonsense demeanor. “You’ve bought us a welcome reprieve. There isn’t much in the way to fortify, but we can accelerate our timetable. Between repairing the hyperdrive, and should have more than enough room for however many refugees-.”

Her eyes wander slightly from your own, before suddenly widening in a visible alarm. She fumbles at her blaster for a weapon at her belt, cursing at the unwieldiness of the enviro-suit. “Gaelle, behind you-!”

The Clone is more corpse than man, little beyond a lump of flesh held together by roots and vines. With half-rotting limbs, it ascends the last tier of the platform, staggering to its knees before the six of you. It stares at you with a glassy eye, swiveling wildly in its socket at any and all directions, emitting a low, drawn-out groan as it slowly advances.

Olivia’s escort immediately responds, moving to protect their commanding officer. The hairs on your arm stand ramrod straight as the sound of their wrist-blasters unbuckle and unleash a crimson volley at the infected clone. It offers little resistance, little in the way of any indication that it felt anything as its armor is blown off, as bloody gouges are scored in the ossifying flesh.

Your lighstaber is already in your hands, bursting to life in an explosion of golden light. To the droids, you roar, “Cease fire! Cease fire, dammit! Commodore, I’ll take care of it-”

And when it speaks, the voice of the Herald leaks out in a harsh and guttural whisper: “...you should have accepted my offer, Jedi...”

(cont.)
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The commodore’s eyes flash dangerously, flicking from you and the infected trooper with a visceral alarm. But she listens to your command, shouting for her own droids to stop firing. Reluctantly, the escort stands down, and even more begrudgingly, you put your back to the B2’s as you stand between the Separatists and the Herald’s messenger.

The puppet’s jaw is held only by a few sinews of meat. Still, it moves in a grotesque parody of speech as its master continues, “A pity that you were unable to see reason. We would have both benefitted from the trade...alas, the Master will remain in my custody.”

“What have you done to her?” you demand harshly. The number of times you had even interacted with the Peacekeeper could be counted on a single hand. But the twi’lek is Mater Larid’s friend, and you respect her for both her deeds in the Outer Rim, and for taming the shrew that Arotta had been. “I swear to all your gods that I will burn the entire planet-”

“Hers is a mind and will of unyielding steel,” muses the entity, “...incorruptible and inviolate. Even if I were to absorb her essence, mastering her power would be a long and tedious exercise. I’d even refrained with your arrival in the hopes of securing a bargaining chip...”

You recall to mind the words of Master Windu, when he and the Jedi Council had descended upon the desert planet of Geonosis. Outnumbered nearly twenty to one, he defiantly told Count Dooku that a Jedi would never be a hostage to be bartered with. Of course, the situation is somewhat different, but you’ll be damned if you give the Sunspear over without a second thought.

Why the sudden change in mood? There’s something about the weapon, then, that he values more than the experience and power of a Jedi master. He called it his ‘birthright’...as if the spear is owed to him. Bos had mentioned that he had been a shaman once...perhaps that’s something to look into.

“Birthright or not, I didn’t kill the Accuser to just hand his weapon over to you,” you snarl, “Not when he died telling me to burn all of the jungle away.”

The cores flash ominous. “...you know nothing, Farren Gaelle...”

“I know this much: I intend to keep the Sunspear out of your hands, take back Master Kosa, and release all of the souls that you’ve trapped within yourself.”

Silence, as if he couldn’t believe the audacity of your words. Then...

“...I will await you, in the Womb of Jombaral...” The host spreads its arms wide, as if to invite you. Flesh writhes and tears as the lips of the corpse are stretched into a facsimile of a hospitable grin. “...the Children will not stop you. Try to do it if you can...Jedi...”

It makes no move to stop you as you approach the messenger, and hold the edge of your lightsaber a scant inch away from the clone’s neck.

“...I intend to,” you promise.

And you give the corpse the mercy of death.
>>
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=============

I'm admittedly on a role, and I would like to end the arc before it drags on for too long. My most sincere apologies for those waiting for the next thread of "Bladebound Retainer". I still have some workshoping issues I need to work on for that.

Please standby for the next thread...
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>>4275429
>My most sincere apologies for those waiting for the next thread of "Bladebound Retainer"
http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive/3529926/
Exactly 1 year and 1 day since the last thread started :^)
I still want to see this arc end before the next thread of that though.



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