Ravaath, it is a beautiful planet, from up high. Gleaming polished metal cities glow with the friendly warmth of an old golden sun and from the pale sandy white clouds that they float above. But inside those labyrinths of durasteel that hover above the gas planet, there is a hive of desperate, sweaty, dehumanised life. They struggle with their meagre salaries from their basic, simplistic, hard labour, at the massive floating docks. The ones servicing the heavy freighters travelling to and throw from Dahlhaus the Second’s Glorious Renewed Huttenese Empire to the Galactic Republic. There are others, of course, not all bathed in grime and toil, those rare beings able to escape the deprivations that are the norm. Some of them are even decent, honest, lucky people on this planet that oozes with vie hate, but most are not. Most thrive on the power they wield over the forlorn masses, be it through extreme life-changing wealth or, love and skill in violence, most often some mix of the two.

You do not belong to any group native to this planet, you are Christopher, a Jedi Padawan of seventeen standard years, who has been stuck in this world for the last two of them. Whilst it is obvious why you would not enjoy being surrounded by the relentless suffering; it has not been terrible. In these past two years, you have pushed yourself to help the peoples of this planet, and you have done so. Apart from the pedestrian daily actions of patrolling the streets and arbitrating local disagreements, you and your Jedi comrades managed to uncover a smuggling ring that was transporting abused and utterly broken children into the Republic. Furthermore, you aren’t alone. Luke, Claire and another Padawan named Vila make up the constant companions with whom you have grown to young adulthood. You and your fellow apprentices are all accompanied by a Jedi Master.

Like much of your time on this planet, you are alone with your fellow Padawans, with the Masters off absentee. Above you is a peaceful cloudless sky, because they are, of course, drifting lazily far beneath your boots, under the floating city of steel. The heavens above are a beautiful deep sapphire blue, much like the darker cousin of the twin azure blades of glowing plasma you hold in your hands. Sweat flows down your brow, dampening your long blond fringe, as you glare with intense concentration at the oversized muscular figure standing across from you on the exposed deck, with his own Lightsaber raised.

“Fuck him up, Luke!” Calls the prone figure of the Togruta, Vila, with a giggle in her voice.

Luke looks away from you and flexes his muscular physique at the audience of two. In reply, Vila brings two fingers to her lips and lets out a loud wolf whistle, spurring Luke to change to another exaggerated pose, while Claire smiles weakly as she plays with a strand of her golden hair, not quite sure of what to say. Faking incensed outrage, you scrunch your face into a sneer and twirl your Lightsabers into humming blue disks. Luke’s own Lightsaber, which spews a bar of exquisite green, is brought to guard as he stops posing, and your sparring session resumes.

“Christopher, your reign of tyranny is over!” Booms Luke’s voice with an exaggerated deepness on top of his already low tone.

“No, no, no, it has only just begun.” You smile back, playing into the villainous role assigned to you. “I have already defeated that weakling Vila. You are just another steppingstone on my ascension.”

“Boooo, booo,” Cries the exhausted Togruta laughing on the floor.

>Over the past two years been using these training sessions to learn a new Lightsaber form, you already know Soresu and Makashi, which one have you picked up?

>Form I: Shii-Cho, is specialised towards engaging multiple opponents, the wide, sweeping motions being ideally suited towards attacking numerous adversaries. However, Form I was not as useful against single opponents, as such enemies had complete mobility and could find a weakness in Shii-Cho's comparatively clumsy bladework.

>Form IV: Ataru is an aggressive combat form relying on a combination of speed and agility. Those who used Form IV could move at high speeds and could rain strong blows, jumping and attacking through the air. Powerful and quick spinning attacks could be utilised from all angles. Masters of Ataru could appear like a blur to their opponents, attacking from all directions—the front, the sides, overhead, or behind.

>Form V: Djem So, utilises a combination of blocks and parries. It requires the user not only to counterattack, but also to press the assault, combining Force-enhanced strength with powerful blade combinations to overpower and overwhelm an opponent's defences.

>Form VI: Niman, incorporated elements from the previous forms, mainly Forms I through V, excluding Form II, but balances out between their various specialisations. However, while hailed as a practical, all-around fighting form, it should be noted that Niman provides no decisive edge in battle.

>Form VII: Juyo, was described as the most vicious form of lightsaber combat and was said to be filled with both fury and grace. It was designed for such a purpose in one-on-one lightsaber duels. Despite the challenges inherent in using the form, it could serve as a pathway to considerable power.

As always let me know what you like, what didn't you like, and what you want to see going forwards so we can all enjoy the quest more.

Archive: https://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/qstarchive.html?tags=Stellar%20Turmoil

>>5780391
>Form I: Shii-Cho, is specialised towards engaging multiple opponents, the wide, sweeping motions being ideally suited towards attacking numerous adversaries. However, Form I was not as useful against single opponents, as such enemies had complete mobility and could find a weakness in Shii-Cho's comparatively clumsy bladework.
We have a duel one and one good against ranged, so let's add one good against multiple opponents, that should give us a tool for any situation.
Also welcome back Stumbles.

>>5780391
>Form V: Djem So, utilises a combination of blocks and parries. It requires the user not only to counterattack, but also to press the assault, combining Force-enhanced strength with powerful blade combinations to overpower and overwhelm an opponent's defences.
Think of it this way - even a battle against a group is essentially just a series of duels one after the other.

>>5780391
>Form VII: Juyo, was described as the most vicious form of lightsaber combat and was said to be filled with both fury and grace. It was designed for such a purpose in one-on-one lightsaber duels. Despite the challenges inherent in using the form, it could serve as a pathway to considerable power.
Darkness must be struck down (I also want to be super close to going Dark without actually going dark)
Captcha: PornW,
man I guess Porn wins

>>5780391
>Form VII: Juyo, was described as the most vicious form of lightsaber combat and was said to be filled with both fury and grace. It was designed for such a purpose in one-on-one lightsaber duels. Despite the challenges inherent in using the form, it could serve as a pathway to considerable power.
All right I'm changing my vote. It's just too good of a fit for Chris. Chris can definitely get down with some righteous fury from time to time without giving into the dark side. Plus this will make him a dueling beast.

>>5780391
>Form VII: Juyo, was described as the most vicious form of lightsaber combat and was said to be filled with both fury and grace. It was designed for such a purpose in one-on-one lightsaber duels. Despite the challenges inherent in using the form, it could serve as a pathway to considerable power.
Enemy force users are out there gathering power, dueling will become very important very soon.
Welcome back Stumbling! Looking forward to seeing where this goes!

>>5780391
>Form 4
Traditionally, form 7 is learmed last. Goven it volatile nature.

>>5780391
>Form V: Djem So, utilises a combination of blocks and parries. It requires the user not only to counterattack, but also to press the assault, combining Force-enhanced strength with powerful blade combinations to overpower and overwhelm an opponent's defences.

>>5780415
If it goes through, should it concern anyone that we learned form 7 after 2 years on a planet with Porro?

I'm sure that's not a sign of something.

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Dropping into a crouched predatory pose mimicking a great jungle hunter; your legs are bent, ready to leap out and pounce upon helpless prey, while your arms are held close to your body, prepared to lash out with ferocious, unpredictable attacks. It is one of the common Juyo stances, the form you’ve been religiously learning and refining over these past years, which is shared with the similarly swift Ataru. But where Juyo differs is that it isn’t just about overwhelming speed trying to nick at openings crafted by a thousand lesser blows to chip at one’s guard; Juyo slams into their defences, ripping them asunder with both the vicious strength of Djem So and the blinding speed of Ataru. All this offensive power comes at a great cost, by immersing yourself in this total offensive, you discard all thoughts about self-preservation. But as they say, the best defence is a good offence.

A massive silhouette stands in stark contrast to the open sky that surrounds you. Luke, a mountain of a man, is garbed in dark Jedi robes of black and brown. Both his hands grasp his Lightsaber above his head in a typical Djem So high guard, which colours his head the same electric green of the blade. All play and joviality have vanished from his posture; all you can see in his eyes is the steely concentration born of his desire for this to be the duel in which he finally bests you. Unmoving, he watches you for the slightest movement, waiting for you to launch the assault.

How could you not oblige him? The calm shatters in a violent instant as you draw upon the tranquil currents of the Force, obliterating the peace and using all the power you can grasp to fuel an unrestrained, rabid leap. You are a javelin thrown by a dead culture’s old god, hurtling across the ground, barreling towards your friend. Luke attempts to strike at the speeding missile charging towards him; while raising no defences in an attempt to score a mutual “kill”. But you already saw the strike in the Force before he decided to throw it. The Force guides your hands and whispers in your ears of future secrets. Without thought, you strike with your Shoto, sweeping his blade away from your torso, leaving his own wide open. Your full blade roars through the air as it dives at Luke’s heart, hoping to spear him.

At the last instant, Luke sees his loss in your eyes and in the Force and tries to twist his chest away from your rapidly approaching blade. And he does make it in time, just, but you still collide body against body. Your shoulder slams into the larger man’s chest, throwing him in the same direction you are still travelling. Luke like you, flies through the air, but with his Lightsaber thrown free of his hands from the colossal impact. He lands on the floor and bounces across the exposed roof terrace like a stone skipping across the sea. You, on the other hand, land with a controlled roll, which absorbs all your wild momentum.

Diving again at Luke, this time you slash at him with both your Lightsabers working in tandem. Stumbling to his feet, his blade of green plasma flies back into his outstretched hand, allowing him to parry both of your blades. The strength of the twin strikes sends him staggering back on unsteady legs. You’ve got him now, you could unleash a crippling kick to pulverise his knee or a slashing elbow to smash into his skull, putting him to sleep. But you don’t; he is your friend, and you do not want to hurt Luke in what is a friendly duel. This momentary pause allows Luke to rapidly steady his feet and regain composure.

You cleave and stab and slash at him, forcing him back, stealing any offensive from Luke. While Djem So is the form of aggressive counterattacks, how can you counterattack when you need to put your everything into defence? Pushing him backwards with a violent inferno of rapid strikes, you are enthralled. Consumed by the joy of battle, even if it is not real, you use this feeling to fuel your onslaught, loving every second of it. And what is more, that is just the controlled flow of emotion you are feeding on; behind a mental dam, you have sealed the emotions so potent you do not dare to draw upon. But it is there, if you need that power, if you want that power.

The fight ends unceremoniously when your full Lightsaber slaps into Luke’s neck with a slight sting on his part, which would decapitate the young Jedi if not for the training strength your blades are set at. For a split instant, his face curls into an angry, disappointed and resentful visage, but it disappears as quickly as the look is born. You do not fault him for it, you can understand and sympathise with the frustration of continually losing to the same person again and again. Doing the courteous thing, you pretend that you never saw that instant of weakness and give him a tired smile acknowledging his skill.

A stinging sensation strikes the back of your head, not painful but certainly unpleasant. Realising it is the feeling of a Lightsaber on training settings poking the back of your skull, you fall to your knees. Both hands let go of the sibling blades, which fall to the ground. You cushion them with the Force, not wanting the fall to mar your ornate Lightsabers. Then you flop face down onto the top of the grassy garden roof. A foot places itself on the small of your back, eliciting a small grunt from the new weight.

“I, Vila, am the undefeated and undisputed champion of the galaxy.”

“I am sure you are,” Calls a voice belonging to a being much older than the congregation of Padawans.

Jedi Master Jalen rises from the steps leading to the interior of the building that has been housing the lot of you for the last two years. Standing to your feet with ease, knocking off the Togruta, you use the Force to pick up your Lightsabers and clip them to your belt. Before you is the horned red-skinned Devaronian Master who has kindly spent his time teaching you Juyo. Jalen breaks into conversation with you and Luke, instructing the pair of you on how to improve despite not viewing the battle at all. At least not with his eyes.

After finishing his verbal lesson and leaving, Luke turns to you and asks, “Bar?”

It has become part of the weekly ritual for you and him to share a drink on the last day of the week. “Try and stop me.”

“Do you want to invite the girls this time?” His eyes point over at the chatting forms of Vila and Claire.

>Yes, more the merrier
>No, boys night

>>5781354
>Yes, more the merrier

>>5781354
>More the merrier.

The power behind the damn is not for us to use. I warn us now.

>>5781354
>Yes, more the merrier

>>5781354
>Yes, more the merrier

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“Yeah, sure, mate.” You reply with a shrug; while it is usually just you and Luke, you do not mind. Not really caring if more people join the pair of you, you nod. After a drink, you are happy to talk anyone’s ear off.

Luke waves the duo over, “Hey girls-”

“It is women, actually.” Interrupts an impudent Vila wearing the frown of a spoiled princess, with her arms crossed under her modest breast, giving them a slight purposeful jiggle.

You join Luke gazing at her well-clothed chest, the sterile sexless lives you have lived up to now causing you to gawk at the simple motion. The teen hormones racing through your system stirring an animalistic desire, which you quickly wipe away, but a blush remains on your face displaying Vila’s victory. Looking back up at the pair of young women, Vila’s frown is long gone; what remains is a proud smirk and a flush of her own, deepening the red of her cheeks. Claire is pulling a face that couldn’t be more dissimilar. A horrified mask of shock covers her face with her mouth stuck in a wide gawp.

“Er, so ladies,” You suppress a chuckle at Luke’s words, not quite sure who or what he meant by ladies. “We were wondering if you wanted to join the pair of us for a drink at the bar?”

Claire, broken out of the spell, quickly nods in acceptance while Vila answers for the pair, “Yes, we would be happy to.”

Surprised at Claire’s quick agreement, your eyebrows raise. You figured she would either, outright reject the offer, or it would need a lot of prodding by Vila to twist her arm. While she used to be prickly and competitive in the past when you studied together on Coruscant, she has lost that in these two years. But she does remain quiet and awkward, too shy and insecure, struggling to think of the best response to everything. By the time she thinks of as suitable reply, the conversation has long past the moment. You do feel for the young woman, where words come naturally to you, she mentally flails, too nervous to get how she feels out.

“Okay,” You reply with a clap of your hands, “Everyone, we will meet up at nine and walk to the bar. It is just a short walk away from here. Don’t wear Jedi robes or clothing, and we typically don’t bring Lightsabers, but you can if you want. We wear normal everyday clothes; this is our time off, and we don’t want to be the centre of attention.”

Vila looks at you with a hunter’s smile, “I don’t mind attention.”

“Different kind of attention,” You answer with a slight grin and shake of your head.

It is eight-fifty, and you have just exited the front door of the grand mansion you’ve been living in. It was a gift by the planetary governor the day after all eight Jedi arrived on the planet, a gift to presumably earn favour and a display of thanks for all the future actions you will do for the floating cities dotting the gas giant. The street you’ve just entered is on the top level of the hovering capital, the sky growing a beautiful orange from the setting sun in the distance. Small gardens, trees and bushes cover the avenue; it is easy for one to think that the world is an idyllic metropolis when you are surrounded by such beauty and those suffering are hidden deep below your feet.

Looking at your party, Luke is wearing a shirt, one you’ve suspected has become his favourite due to the regularity it is worn; the top is easily two-sizes too small for him. The fabric clings to his frame, boastfully displaying his muscular physique. You do not fault him for it. Your shirt is a loose-fitting, plain black, apart from the singel image displayed on it. On your chest is a scantily clad blue-skinned Jedi with two azure Lightsabers in hand, locked in a backflip. Alyla was aghast when you showed her the top you found and bought off the Holonet. Since the film starring her actions was released, she has developed quite a fanbase across the stars. It isn’t a rare occurrence for the public to latch onto the odd Jedi and turn them into an unwanted celebrity, especially if they are young and beautiful. Finding the humour in the apparel, you enjoy wearing it.

The girls couldn’t be further apart in how they are dressed. Claire is wearing uninteresting trousers with a long-sleeved top that could be unisex if not for the small size. Not that it hides her sizable womanly charms. In contrast, Vila is wearing a deep V-neck dress that clings to and advertises her body. She skips and catches up with you and Luke, forcing herself between the pair of you and clings to you and Luke’s arms, interrupting your conversation. You fight off the boyish urge to drink in the welcome sight of her, only stealing a rare glance. Jogging to catch up, Claire sidles next to you. You look at her and shoot her a smile, trying to ease the worried look on her face. Taking a few glances at Vila, she mimics the closeness you and Luke are with the other girl by taking your hand in hers. Her hand is slightly clammy, and she timidly gazes up at you before locking her eyes forward, unable to meet your gaze. Giving the hand a small squeeze of comradery, you continue your short journey.

You are very drunk. And you aren’t the only one. Luke is sitting across a table from you, half slumped, while the bass booms to a popular song that is repeated everywhere. The room is half-lit, giving an appearance of privacy, with a few people dancing in the centre of the bar. Vila and Claire arrive with two drinks in each hand, one for themselves, the whiskey for you and an ale for Luke.

Who do you talk to…
>Luke, who has on and off been discussing Lightsaber techniques, the injustice of the world and women
>Claire, who has, with the assistance of alcohol, has become more talkative than you’ve ever seen her
>Vila, who is trying to convince you or Luke to join her dancing
>Write-in for other or specified conversations/actions

>>5782558
>Claire, who has, with the assistance of alcohol, has become more talkative than you’ve ever seen her
It's weird how little Chris and Claire have interacted given their shared background. Let's fix that

>>5782558
>Claire, who has, with the assistance of alcohol, has become more talkative than you’ve ever seen her
Jedi shadow gf when?

>>5782558
>Claire

My inherent sense of caution is blaring that this is perfect time for shit to go wrong. But Chris isn't paranoid. Yet.

>>5782558
>Claire, who has, with the assistance of alcohol, has become more talkative than you’ve ever seen her
An incredibly rare opportunity to talk her.

>>5782554
>Claire, who has, with the assistance of alcohol, has become more talkative than you’ve ever seen her

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With slowed caution, Claire slowly stoops down to place a glass filled with black liquid in front of you and her own cocktail of tropical explosion on the table, struggling with her diminished balance robbed by the night of downing drink after drink. She makes it without spilling a drop and slips into the chair beside you. Vila is not as lucky, stumbling as she attempts to put both glasses down on the table; misjudging the distance, she spills Luke’s drink into his lap. Luke’s tired, half-closed eyes jolt wide awake as the cold liquid splashes through his trousers and soaks his crotch.

At the sight, you let out a loud cackle, which is subsumed by the loud music. Your hand pounds the table as you continue to laugh; uncharacteristically, Claire joins in with a slight giggle hidden under a hand. Meanwhile, Vila somehow looks more shocked than Luke at the drink poured into his lap. He begins to press down against the moist fabric, ineffectually trying to ring the water from the cloth. Vila says something to him; it is something that is lost to the overpowering music, and takes him by the hand, dragging him towards the toilets. She gives the pair of you a wave, and you swear you just saw her wink, but you realise it probably isn’t the best thing to trust your senses in this state.

Claire turns around to you as the pair disappear into a bathroom; she is wearing a beautiful, rare smile that suits her so well, one you hope to see more of in the future. Sitting right next to you, she says something which you miss, overpowered by the speaker system. You reply with a shrug, pointing to your ears, trying to mime the meaning as you take your drink into your hand. A frown appears on Claire’s face, and she scoots her chair right up to yours, leaning into you, talking into your ear.

“I think I am slightly drunk,” Claire tells you with her lips gently, clumsily brushing your ear.

Turning to speak into Claire’s, “I think we all are, especially Vila. Is it me or did she wink as she was taking Luke into the toilets?”

“No, I didn’t see her wink at all.” Quickly changing the direction of the conversation. “This is the first time I’ve been to a place like this, and had anything more than a glass of wine.”

“Ha, well, you’ve kept up, but I think this should be our last. But it is nice to see you smiling and being more open, you know? Tell me about yourself; who is the real Claire?”

“Well, I kinda struggle with… people and expressing myself. Well, I’m not too interesting for a space wizard; I like books, I like being a Jedi, and I love the Force. But I can tell you a secret if you want to know?”

“Sure,” You reply and drink from your glass, not even able to taste the alcohol in the whiskey anymore, just the sweetness of the mixer.

“So, you know how back in the Temple, I was always trying to compete with you and show off? I had no idea just how to talk to you as a regular person, still not really able to do so without enough alcohol to put a Wookie to sleep. But that was the only way I knew how to spark up a conversation.”

Your free arm gently wraps around the waist of the girl speaking into your ear, with your faces millimetres apart, you give a soft squeeze in an attempt to comfort or something. You aren’t one hundred percent sure as to why, but it just feels like the natural thing to do. “Damn, I was sure you hated me back then. I guess we need to make up for old times. What about me did you want to know?”

With your arm around her, she leans into you, pressing her tired body into your strong chest. “Everything. You always came across as so cool and confident, like you knew with certainty what was going to happen. And you are the only other Ramdar I’ve met. There’s so much I want to talk to you about.”

A wolfish grin grows on your face as you drain the last of your drink; you spot two figures dancing, Luke and Vila. His eyes are boring into you and the girl you have in your arms, an unhappy frown written all over his face. Vila controls the dance, leading them into the crowd, disappearing into it. Claire pulls at your shirt, forcing your attention to return to her. Her porcelain white face, the same colour as yours and your people, changes with the altering colours of the lights; and you have to admit to yourself, that she has grown into a very gorgeous girl. Claire’s crimson-red eyes meet with yours, looking into them, trying to spot something hidden within. A very unjedi-like feeling swells in you as you lose yourself in the closeness of your faces and the warmth of her body pressed against yours.

A stranger taps you on your shoulder, killing the moment. There is a young girl, maybe fifteen, looking at you expectantly. However old she is, you do not think she should be in this place. Unbeknownst to you, Claire scowls at the adolescent, trying to get the girl to flee. The teen is a human with raven black hair and a panicked look on her face. She shouts just loud enough for you to hear over the din, allowing her not to break the bubble of space you and Claire are inhabiting. Fiddling with something within her pocket, she takes out a Commlink.

“You are a Jedi, right? I recognise you; I’ve seen you patrolling the lower city.” You reply with a drunk nod. “Great, listen, I think I have found members of the cult of The Singularity here. Let me take your details, and I will contact you tomorrow.”

This time, it is you who produces a Commlink, allowing the teen to transfer your details to each other; all the while, Claire slumps into you even more with the odd gentle poke to remind you she is still there. The young girl saunters off, and Claire snatches your Commlink out of your hands before you can return it to your pocket. Claire stands up and searches through your device. As you climb to your unsteady feet, she turns her back to you. Her eyes scan the blue screen, and you wrap your arms around the once timid and now feisty Padawan, trapping her there.

“You’ve got a message from Vila. She’s taken Luke home. It is just us.” She tells you as she turns around to face you, slightly swaying to the music all the while in your arms.

She doesn’t fight your embrace, but she does hide your Commlink behind her back, forcing you to pull her in closer with a tighter hug to reach the device. Her sizable chest presses into you, wanting you to know she is a woman, not just a person or a young girl anymore. You grasp the Commlink but don’t take it out of her hands, keeping the pair of you locked in an embrace. While you aren’t as tall as Luke, few beings are; you tower over the woman held in your arms, enjoying the sensation of the bodies pressed together. With one hand, she drops your bandanna from your face, exposing your scars. A rush of embarrassment, shame and insecurity runs through you as you quickly try to hide your face. But Claire doesn’t allow it; she gently grabs your wrists, returning your arms around her waist.

Claire looks up at you, your eyes gazing into hers, reading the sorrowful expression on her face that is just centimetres away from yours. As she talks, you feel her breath on your face as she speaks, sending an excited tingle of intimacy and desire down your spine. “You shouldn’t feel ashamed of those scars. You did a great thing. And they haven’t ruined your face at all, you don’t need to hide it, you still look so...”

You…
>Say it is time to leave for the night, it is very late, and you both are very drunk
>Continue talking for the rest of the night; you don’t want to lose this opportunity to get to know her
>She’s drunk, you’re drunk, it doesn’t even have to mean anything, you will both forget this night tomorrow, kiss the girl
>Other(write-in)

>>5783447
>Talk for the rest of the night

Teen bullshit ahoy, engage with love triangle drama.
That said, I'm genuinely fond of "drunken talks for the night" between friends and lovers, so this appeals to my romanticism.

>>5783447
>Continue talking for the rest of the night; you don’t want to lose this opportunity to get to know her

Shit I kinda forgot Luke had a thing for her. Woops.

>>5783447
>Continue talking for the rest of the night; you don’t want to lose this opportunity to get to know her

>>5783447
>Continue talking for the rest of the night; you don’t want to lose this opportunity to get to know her
"I didn't do anything great. He just allowed me to live. Like I was a toy that he wanted to keep playing with. But the users of the dark side will come to wish that he killed me."

>>5783447
>She’s drunk, you’re drunk, it doesn’t even have to mean anything, you will both forget this night tomorrow, kiss the girl

The sweet moment with the scars tipped it over for me, desu.

It's Thursday so I'm in office, very unlikely I update today.

Any suggestions on what you'd like to see/do in the quest or criticisms are welcome.

>>5783824
A lot of time has passed in the story but the change from younger antisocial Chris and then traumatized Chris to current gregarious Chris feels sudden. I'm not really into the hormonal teen stuff but there's nothing wrong with it, I'm just looking forward to some missions.

>>5783967
Yeah I get that, initially I was going to pad this first arc out more and have at least two more threads before we got to here. But I didn't have the patience really, this has just been the character setup for Chris and I want to get onto the main story now.

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The sentence remains uncompleted. Hanging the between you. Like an unspoken secret you both are privy to. Life surrounds you in this populated bar: people at their tables sharing old and new stories to new and old friends, queues of beings shoving and waving to catch the eye of one of the short-staffed bartenders hurrying about, a mass of humanoids dance, embrace and kiss. But you do not see them, you do not hear their loud ruckus, you do not even feel them in the Force; there is nothing outside this little private world you and Claire have carved out together.

Claire’s soft, wide eyes gaze up at you waiting, unblinking despite the sudden, sharp colour changes spewed by harsh lights painting the bar. You know this is wrong. That you shouldn’t do this. That this is not the path of the Jedi or the way of the Jedi or however you want to phrase the dogmatic term. But how can something that feels so natural, that feels so unequivocally right, be wrong? Who would even know? And if someone did, no one would even blame you for the action, you’ve drank far past any point of rationality and clear thought. But you would know, and you are still the master of your own mind. Fastening your eyes closed, you bow your head into a deep stoop and release a deep exhale filled with an already burgeoning regret.

“I am very drunk,” You paraphrase her earlier words, shattering the moment.

“Me too,” Claire replies, now resting her cheek on your chest.

“I think we should go.”

“Okay,” She muffles her words into your chest.

You take the young Ramdar girl by her hand and lead her out of the building into the warm night outside. She gives your hand a slight squeeze and interlaces your fingers with hers. Each step you take is a battle to stay upright on your wobbly legs; your only support is each other. It isn’t long before you manage to make it back to the building you’ve been using as a home these last years. With a finger to your lips, you motion for silence as you open the door. It is late, far past the time any Master retires for the night, but you do not want to risk a chance of them catching you in this state.

With a beckoning finger, you noiselessly motion for your fellow Padawan to quietly follow you through the spinning building. You climb each step on all fours, thinking it will suppress any loud footfalls and stop you from stumbling over. Meanwhile, Claire follows you upright on her feet, trying and failing to smother a girlish giggle at your bizarre stance. As you crawl up the stairs, managing to avoid falling over with a crash loud enough to wake up all the sleepers. Claire gives you a soft tug of your clothes as you continue up the stairs past the level of your rooms, still avoiding breaking the silence, all you do is nod to the steps rising towards the roof.

Finally, after ascending to the roof terrace and shutting the doors behind you, you begin to speak freely again. “I thought we could continue to talk, if you want. If it is too late, then that’s fine, no worries.”

Her response is wordless; Claire simply flops onto the grass floor and gazes up at you and the night sky with her long blond hair messily draped on the ground. You soon join her, lying on your back gazing up at the numberless stars shining ever so brightly in a blank darkness of space, like a million glowing gems. A deep sigh escapes your lips as you exhale from built-up fatigue; exhaustion has wormed its way deep into your system. The world around you is soundless; no more music blasted into your eardrums, no conversations of people down below on the streets, just silence and your beating heart.

Claire’s voice comes out almost inaudible due to the gentleness, “You want to hear how much of a dork I am? I used to call talking to someone crossing the mingle bridge. I would say to myself today I’m going to cross the mingle bridge and talk to Chris.”

“No way, you are pulling my leg.”

“No word of a lie.”

Lightly chuckling, you reply, “Well, I’m glad you’ve crossed the mingle bridge with me today; I’ve really enjoyed spending the night with you.”

“Tomorrow, we should do something. I’ve been working on this new Force technique. I was waiting to master it, but I’m sure I can teach the basics of it to you.”

“What is it? Are you being all mysterious to try to draw me in?”

“A girl must maintain her mystery. I can’t have you bored of me already… Say, do you ever think of Achlys and our people?”

At that, you sigh, you do and often, “What I don’t understand is why we let the Hutts have their empire of cruelty, where they brutalise generation after generation, forcing our people and others into such wretched debasement. And why our jurisdiction ends at the borders of the Republic. Our allegiance is to the Force, not politicians.”

“The thing is, we directly serve the Senate, not the Force, and they couldn’t care unless it affects their standing with the voters. And who cares about some shitty world in the Hutt empire? Taxes are more important to people.”

“One day, I promise you, we-I will free our people.”

Claire does not respond as you watch the shining globes of light up above. No planet in the galaxy has a better view of the night sky, this is owed to the height of the floating city. Too many worlds are spoiled by light pollution, but there is no industry here to steal the vista from you. A gentle, faint snore emanates from the body next to you, causing a small smile to grow on your lips. Closing your eyes, the world turns to darkness as a peaceful wave of drowsiness drags you into a world of blissful slumber.

Your head pounds as if there is a beating drum trapped within your skull. Raising a hand, you block the light of the rising sun from stabbing your eyes. Sitting up, you see Claire, still trapped in sleep’s embrace, her chest slowly rising and falling with a slow, steady rhythm. Much to your displeasure, you remember you are on patrol today. You aren’t able to crawl into your bed and continue your slumber. Recalling last night, you have no idea how Claire and Vila matched you drink for drink last night, you will have to interrogate them later.

Who is scheduled to join you on your patrol today?
>Master Jalen
>Master Ravel
>Master Adacter
>Porro
>Padawan Luke
>Padawan Vila
>Padawan Claire

>>5785527
>Porro
Chris' suffering is eternal

>>5785527
>Master Adacter

>>5785527
>Jalen

It amuses me that Porro is just his name. Spite and all.
But yeah, should clear up our friends misunderstanding AFTER patrol, when he has had time to contemplate the issue.

Is the Jedi order basically the same as ever here or has it changed over time?

>>5785668
So the Jedi order has returned to the more dogmatic and puritanical days before the empire that you see in the prequels/old republic. There are a couple lesser temples in the galaxy where love is not only allowed but encouraged, hold overs from Luke's time as Grand Master, but they are suppressed so knowledge of them is rare. When I say love I don't mean just in a romantic sense, but also in a familial way and metaphysical way, they much closer to Luke's Jedi philosophy rather than Yoda's or Obi Wan's. I personally like the more dogmatic approach from a narrative view, so that Jedi have to fight internally between duty and what is natural and positive.

>Padawan Claire

Don’t really have a rapport with the others beyond Luke, and we’re better of letting him cool off.

I'll roll a dice in an hour or so if I don't have a winner

>>5786491
Bit late and I don't want to start now, I'll try to do two updates tomorrow but no promises.

I'm writing and I chose Master Adacter because there was no winner and I simply wanted to write him more than the others right now.

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Standing up to your full height, you reach out with your arms, and your aching back sounds out numerous clicks as you stretch. For Claire’s sake, you trap the moan in your throat that would typically accompany it. With a finger, you rub your closed eyes, wiping away the yellow crusts built up from last night. All the while, your headache remains an unpleasant constant, and your skull throbs with a constant dull ache. All that you want to do is curl up into your bed, not return to the grassy floor you’ve made your impromptu resting spot and spend the rest of your day nursing your hangover. But regrettably, duty calls.

You gently pick up the sleeping form next to you, attempting not to ruin Claire’s deep slumber and allowing her to pass the worst punishment from the excessive drinking in her sleep. With one arm under her legs and the other supporting her back, you carry her down the flight of stairs with more care to stay quiet than you were capable of mustering last night. Claire’s head limply rests into the crook of your neck as you climb down the transparent glass steps. Thankfully, she weighs almost nothing, or that is how it feels. Finally, approaching her room, you reach out with a tendril of the Force and feel through the dull locked door, depressing a button within the room. The door unlocks and slides open to reveal an immaculately tidy yet plain room, the only things of note are the countless books filling every shelf and the fairy lights hanging from the ceiling.

With care, you slowly place the sleeping Padawan onto the centre of her bed. A book on her nightstand is spread open wide with its covers facing you. Peering down at the dull yet strong blue book cover, your eyes scan the blurb. The words bring a smile to your face, the book is a trashy fantasy novel where a teen girl is a fallen princess and has to save the world, and of course, there are hints of a romance with, no doubt, some idealised guy. You thought, with her usually serious demeanour, she would turn her nose up at these books and spurn them as some childish wish fulfilment.

Leaving the door closed as you exit, you quickly return to your room and are greeted by a divine shower. It purges your sweat and grime built up over the night and brings some comfort to your pounding skull. As you stand naked in the stream of hot water, you empty your head of thoughts and meditate as you wash yourself. Soon, your headache lessens until it disappears forgotten as you leave your bathroom covered in just a towel. Glancing at the time displayed on your Commlink, you hurriedly grab your Jedi robes and quickly dress yourself for the day.

Skipping down the stairs, you come face to face with an unamused Master Adacter. In contrast to your white robes, his are black and, to a lesser degree, brown. He gazes at you expectantly with an imperious eyebrow raised as if waiting for an answer to a question he already knows and disapproves of. You stand still, wide eyed, like a Modan in a speeder’s headlights, waiting for his disapproval to be verbalised, praying to the will of the Force he knows nothing of last night. The pair of you do not move; you wait for him to begin, and Master Adacter is either waiting for you or letting the moment purposely drag.

“Right,” He starts, killing the words you were about to speak. “Let’s start the day. The world waits for no man.”

The pair of you travel across sky cities until you reach a wide elevator large enough to transport cargo. It is sparsely populated; of the hundred-plus people it can carry, you estimate there only to be roughly twenty people filling the transparasteel walls. Eyes from around the glass container focus on you and Master Adacter, the people try to politely hide their gaze, but even without the Force, you can feel their curious stares bore into you. The elevator closes its glass doors and begins to descend from the opulence of the surface to the dark bowels of the city. Beneath the surface, the world is a labyrinth of steel grey metal barely illuminated by ugly yellow industrial lights. Hives of shanty houses are built onto one another, making ugly spreading tumours. Exiting the machine, you take a breath and are assaulted by the acrid stench of sweaty life and manufacturing chemicals.

Master Adacter begins to speak as you weave through the mass of humanity. “Had a good night? You must have got back late.”

Fighting off guilty body language, you reply while trying to keep your voice bored and uninterested, “It was decent.”

“When I was meditating before I went to sleep, I felt Vila and Luke arrive, without you and Claire. Was there some kind of issue keeping you and my Padawan behind?” The accusation in his voice is unveiled and jabs at you.

“Well, Luke had a drink spilt onto him and decided to come home. Me and Claire were just talking, I promise you we did nothing wrong.”

With a sigh, Master Adacter’s voice loses its severity, “Look, I know you are a good kid- a good young man. While I don’t agree with Jalen teaching you Juyo, I personally think it is a mistake to even think about the form when you are so early in your Jedi career, I know you aren’t a bad egg. But even if you’ve done nothing wrong, it still can impact people. I don’t know if you’ve noticed, but Claire has an understandable fascination with you. Your people are very rare in the Republic. Even if you do nothing inappropriate, it can still leave scars.”

Unsure of the correct words to reply with, you let the silence hang and only give a simple nod as your response. A chime rings from your communicator as you are patrolling the undercity, a message from the dark-haired girl who came up to you last night. It reads: “Hi, this is Jaina, from last night. I told you about The Singularity being here on this planet. They’ve got a meeting starting soon. I will send you their location. Please don’t hurt any of them; my brother has made a mistake and is there.” Reporting it to Master Adacter, you hurriedly pass through the crowds without breaking into a run, to the coordinates you have received. Arriving at the position, the pair of you hide in an alleyway and watch from afar as people begin to stream into a cavern in the wall.

Master Adacter looks at the crowd and says cold, solemn words, “It is your information that got us here. You have earnt the right to lead this.”

You…
>Try to disguise yourself and enter as a member of the religion
>Wait until all have arrived and breach the location with local law enforcement supporting you (three sets of D20s)
>Other (Write-in)

>>5787483
>Try to disguise yourself and enter as a member of the religion
A good opportunity to get some information. I'm realizing that one of the bigger downsides of our scars is how hard they will be to disguise if we ever become more of a known entity in the galaxy

>>5787495
Yeah, it's funny how that thread was something I didn't plan for at all. I was thinking people were going to vote for Sojourn because of Darth Plagueis.

>>5787507
That's the fun of questing!

>>5787483
>Try to disguise yourself and enter as a member of the religion
We have the name of a Sith lord in their language carved on our forehead, we can't look more like a dark side cultist even if we tried.

>>5787483
>Try to disguise yourself and enter as a member of the religion
We could literally go under deep cover and infiltrate the higher levels of the singularity with our looks. Should we?

>>5787483
>Try to disguise yourself and enter as a member of the religion

Lmao, we probably beat most of the cultists in looking like a cultist.

>>5787483
>Try and disguise yourself and enter as a member of the religion

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Allowing a second of silence, you close your eyes and allow the Force to guide your words. “We need to get in there undetected. There is the possibility that local law enforcement members are either part of the cult or on their payroll. This is the best way to get information from them before we begin any interrogations and arrests. Only at the very end should we let the police support us. By that point, it should be too late for The Singularity even if we have a leak.”

Master Adacter nods and responds with quick short replies that would not be dissimilar to the words of a military officer, “Decent plan, I like it. Question: we can’t return to base to change, it’ll take too long, do you have a plan to get disguises?”

Almost sheepishly, you answer as you try to devise an idea, “Not… yet.”

“That’s fine. I know how to get some.” Master Adacter informs you.

Following the poised human further down the street, you watch as he peers into the windows of the decrepit huts that surround you, searching for something. Finally, he finds what he was looking for. Through the Force, you can feel the Jedi Master call upon a small fraction of his power. The window opens inwards with a creak that sounds louder than it has any right to be. You can’t see into the building, but all you can take note of is that there are no lights on within the structure. Adacter reaches into the building and withdraws a messy bundle of clothes.

He gently places half of the collection of fabric by your feet using the Force, all the while beginning to strip in the middle of the deserted alleyway. He gives a simple command, “Change.”

Finally, you and the Jedi Master are both clothed in ugly, tattered clothes that have been worn way too many times. The smell poisons your nose and forces a disgusted cringe to appear on your face. The pair of you look like down-in-the-luck beggars, but you’ve not seen a person on this lower level dressed any better apart from law enforcement and suspected gang members. You wrap a scarf around your lower face for now; while it is possible that you can use your Sith scars to gain clout, your face isn’t easily forgotten, so repeat missions could be problematic.

“We are father and son now if anyone asks,” Master Adacter instructs you. “We are new to the planet, trying to search for your mother. Your scars are from an abusive master we used to be indebted to. Use your discretion on revealing that your scars are written in Sith. Any questions.”

“No, sounds solid,” You reply and begin to follow him into the street, to be subsumed by the crowd.

Bodies surround the pair of you, trying to force you apart with the weight of the crowd. But the humans and near-humans are worn down creatures, like an axe that has cut down too many trees; their strength has been blunted and diminished by hours of hard labour moving heavy equipment from traversing ships coming from and going to the Hutt empire from the Republic. Heavy industrial machines are heavily regulated by the planet’s government due to the high oxygen concentration in the atmosphere, forcing businesses to rely on primitive human muscle. Their weakened strength allows you to batter away their attempts to separate you and remain together.

Passing through the discrete rent in the hull wall, you move with the flow of the masses; as soon as you enter the break in the city structure, you see a dozen armed guards carrying a variety of blaster weaponry. They are better fed than the bulk of the congregation; this is apparent due to their increased muscle mass. The world opens up around you to reveal internal machinery used by the city; at the very end of the room is a raised plinth in front of a large glowing blue sphere within two circling disks. Large wires laden the walls, transporting energy around the massive floating vessel. The cables at human level are covered by rough shielding the must have been welded by the cult, while the wires that snake up out of reach are unshielded.

Eventually, the crowd stops forcing their way in, and you are encircled by being after being with Master Adacter next to you. The room easily contains hundreds of believers who gaze forward at the raised plinth waiting, and they are soon rewarded by a middle-aged man, who appears tough and lean with a starved hunger locked within his eyes. Murmuring around the room dies the instant the man arrives insight. He welcomes the fellow cultists with a smile that looks so unnatural on the man’s face. His eyes scan the crowd for something.

“Greetings brothers and sisters,” His voice booms out, assisted by the acoustics of the room. “My friends, my comrades. Today, I am here to tell you the time is near. Some may scoff at that thought; how many times has the time been near, they might ask? They also might ask if the time is near, do I have any idea when that time is? And I can tell you I do, and more than an idea, I have a date. In two days’ time, three members of Dark Star will be joining us on this planet, and they will come to free us all. Free us of this capitalist tyranny that crushes and dehumanises us, that makes us live generation after generation without dignity. On the industrial docks of Garnoth city, they will liberate a large freighter, allowing us to board and flee this hellscape into the Hutt Empire. Into the Hutt Empire, where we won’t be brutalised by capitalism simply making a quick uncaring credit from our suffering or persecuted by the Republic the religion that we choose. All the church of The Singularity asks from us in exchange for our freedom is one thing. And that is to kill the Jedi Padawans in their home. You will commence this action only an hour after the Jedi Masters begin their battle with the members of Dark Star on Garnoth, not before. With surprise and the weight of numbers, and even more importantly, your faith, I know you will succeed. After your actions, we will come for you in one of the liberated ships we will have taken from the upper-city merchants. There are others with different tasks, but that is not your concern. Your concern is fulfilling your own task, that is it. If you hear one of us, ask about anyone else’s instructions, split their head open, for they are not one of the faithful and are a traitor in our mist.”

The man retreats from the podium, and conversation erupts. A large bowl of soup is brought into the cavern, and people form a queue to partake in the warm meal. The speaker begins to mingle with the crowd, and others create small groups and initiate conversations.

What do you do?
>Try to talk to the speaker (Say what?)
>Join one of the groups and join their conversation (Ask about/talk about what?)
>Join the queue for food and try to listen in on random conversations
>Leave and report back to the other Jedi
>Other(Write-in)

Im tired so that may have been a shit update, I haven't checked.

Just so you know Garnoth city is another floating city on this planet, there are a half dozen.
Dark Star is the Force using branch of The Singularity if you've forgotten, so effectively todays Sith.

>>5788258
>Join the queue for food and try to listen in on random conversations

>>5788258
>Join one of the groups and join their conversation (Ask about/talk about what?) How are we meant to kill Padawans? They're force users the same as any Jedi. How can I help?

>>5788258
We need to discreetly convince people that many of them will die if they attack the Padawans as non force users. Which is likely what their leader wants, martyrs to amplify their message and turn public opinion away from Jedi. Maybe we can start with Jaina's brother if she can give us info to find him. A single snowflake can start an avalanche of doubt that collapses the support for this crazy plan.

>>5788433
Sowing the seeds of a rout? I like it, perhaps exaggerate the Padawan’s abilities, make them larger than life figures? Either way, I support this.

>>5788453
We can also say we were a slave under the Hutts. It's no promised land.

>>5788258
>Subtly sow the seeds of doubt, about the hutts and the abilities of the padawans.

The room, a poor description of the space you are inhabiting, is housing the city’s internal gravity generator, all that is keeping the city afloat. Steel grey metal covers the expansive opening’s floor, walls, and ceiling. A closeness surrounds you, created by the mass of bodies and the heat they radiate, which is supplemented by the warmth of the said generator. Old pipes vent gaseous byproducts from the process out of the room, but with age, they have been eaten at by corrosion and leak small grey clouds. Each breath almost feels like a battle to swallow down, owing to the humidity and the pollution caused by the industrial machines.

Turning towards Master Adacter, you raise a questioning eyebrow, non-verbally asking if he has any plan thought up. All he does is give you a squeeze on your shoulder and an encouraging nod; wanting you to continue the lead in this operation. Scanning the surrounding cavern, nothing jumps out at you, screaming that it contains some kind of further secret to unlock and discover. There are no holoprojections displaying different grand plans, or documents of any sort for you to covertly pilfer and then later browse. The best source of information that you are aware of is the people here, who will hopefully allow you to glean more evidence.

You are going to talk to the laymen here, deciding to try to find out the actual plan of action for the incoming attack. Also, you want to weaken their spirit, dampening the fight inside them. Looking around, you see one of the larger congregations of people formed in a loose semi-circle locked in a hearty discussion. Deciding this to be your course, you lead the Jedi Master into this group, breaking into the flock. They take no notice of the two new joiners and continue their passionate debate about some religious matter that you cannot even begin to follow. A part of you wishes the teaching of their religion was something the Order trained you in; it would be helpful in infiltrating and combatting them.

Facing the man beside you, you begin to initiate conversation, “Hey brother, how are you doing?”

“I’m buzzing, man. The thought of us being free has me electric; I can barely keep my heart in my chest.” Smiles the stranger through chipped yellow teeth. “You new here? I haven’t seen you around.”

“Yeah, came off the boat recently, looking for someone and a friend invited me,” Reaching into the Force, you use an ounce of its power to smother any further curiosity into your situation. “So, when we attack the Padawans, what’s the actual plan?”

“Oi, Luke,” The stranger calls out across the group to a man in a half secret conversation with a couple of older men. “Have we got a plan for the attack?”

The man replies with a voice so high you would find it comical in another location. “Oh, Lanson, I’m talking here.”

“We got a new guy with a couple questions.”

Luke spots you and points, “Him?”

“Yeah.”

>another Luke
lol I guess saving the galaxy makes your name popular

“Good to meet you, son. No clue how you fell into our group, but happy to have someone of your size. Do you have an Elder?” The old man named Luke directs the question at you.

“Sadly not.”

Luke flashes an ugly yet friendly smile. “Well fuck it, you’re mine now, kid. Don’t worry, we’ll take care of you. You heard we got a few stashes up top? Yeah? So, I will lead this bunch of fuck ups to the one designated for us a couple hours before the assault. Then, I will get a signal telling us it is time. We will have ten minutes to get into position by the Jedi’s base, and then we storm it. There will be other teams, but our mission is simple: kick the door down quickly and blast the unsuspecting Padawans. That’s it. That’s all.”

“Sorry if this sounds stupid,” You keep your voice soft and deferential but loud enough so the group surrounding you will overhear. “But how can we take them out? Even if they aren’t Masters, the Padawans are still strong in the Force. I don’t see how this plan doesn’t end up with a lot of us dead. They can block and reflect our shots; they can control our very bodies with the power of the Force and corrupt our minds.”

“Aye, kid, there’s a good chance it will get messy, and we will lose good men. But we could also get lucky and get the job done without a single loss if we catch them with their knickers down. The thing is, even if we do die, we will be reborn when The Singularity creates the singularity fuelled from our souls. Dying might be painful, but one day, when The Singularity unweaves the tapestry of reality and rebuilds existence, they will remember and reward our work. Don’t get too scared, everything dies in the ned, and what is better than dying for a good cause that will reward us with rebirth? And let us say the Padawans beat us, which they won’t. As long as they don’t interrupt the members of Dark Star getting rid of the Masters and stealing the ship, our sacrifice will have been worth it, allowing the rest of our people to escape freely into Hutt space.”

"About going into the Hutt empire, are you sure we will be safe there?" You challenge in the least confrontational tone you are able to muster. "I was born there and lived life as a slave. It was horrific. What if they enslave us?"

"You think the Hutts would try to cross Dark Star? That could end up with a lot of blood spilt. I don't think the Hutts would risk it. No, they won't." Luke retorts with less confidence than he began, tapering into a murmur.

Looking around the group, you see faces drained of zeal and self-assurance; slight dejection plagues them. A bowl of soup is placed into Luke's hand, which he takes and begins to gulp down hungrily; greasy liquid spills from his lips down his face. It isn't long before small conversations restart as if the gap of silence never existed. A few do not engage, mulling over their own mortality and the discussion that just took place. A few more bowls of hot soup are brought for the group and are passed around for those needing nourishment.

Luke walks over to you, "So kid, do you have a Commlink? If so, this way, I can keep you in the loop."

"Sure," you exchange details, knowing that this could be very helpful in tracking his movement and finding his contacts with the help of a crypto team.

You…
>Try to talk to the speaker (Say what?)
>Ask them about the religion (Ask them what?)
>Leave and report back to the other Jedi
>Other(Write-in)

>>5789473
Every thread there will be a new Luke until you like it. It can't be worse than Luke, Luuke and Luuuke.
https://starwars.fandom.com/wiki/Luuuke_Skywalker

>>5789489
>Ask them about the religion (Ask them what?)
How will we be reborn? How will existence be rebuilt and what will it be rebuilt into?

>>5789492
Some parts of the EU are better off retconned...

>>5789489
>Try to talk to the speaker (Say what?)
Introduce ourselves and ask more details about their faith as a curious new convert. If we could get this guys name we may be able to look up his home and search it for more information that only the higher ups have access too. The only issue is if we're found out they may change their plans. Hopefully Luke (cultist) will keep us in the loop. Make sure Luke (cultist) sees us as a valuable fighter against the Padawans.

Pretty exhausted today, unsure if I'll get out an update.

Anyone want to break the tie?

>>5789568
I’ll support this

>>5791724
Cool, thanks.

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Confusion at his words furrows your brow. Rebirth? A galaxy reborn? How does The Singularity plan to do something so incredibly farcical? “Sorry, this is going to sound really stupid; there’s still a lot I struggle to wrap my head around. How exactly will we be reborn? Like, what’s the process?”

“Don’t worry about it, kid. These things are hard to grasp, and we can never really fully understand, we can’t feel the Force. So, the Force is everywhere, and in everything, it pulls the strings of reality to its design. The Force isn’t just an invisible force like gravity, it has its own will. It is a living thing. Even the Jedi agree with us on this point.” Luke gives you a soft smile, gauging your face to see if you are following along. He continues with his impassioned words, getting more energetic with every syllable. “And you see, Dark Star can capture the energy from living things. Oh, all beings have some power in the Force; it is how life is created. So, many of us give ourselves willingly, knowing they will use our lifeforce in better ways than we can for the cause. And it doesn’t even matter, when it is all done, they will bring us back. They take our yearning souls and store the power in these purple crystals, and when they get enough power, they will unleash it at one concentrated point, obliterating the rules of reality. Creating a singularity. Overloading the will of the Force, sending it recoiling, and replacing it with our own design. We will reorder the tapestry of reality, and make a better galaxy where such suffering that dominates all the worlds of the Republic is gone, where inequality and exploitation of the masses will be dead. And the faithful’s bodies, and those of their loved ones, will be recreated by the awesome explosion of power, and our souls will be placed back into them. Does that make it any clearer?”

They plan to usurp the will of the Force? That is utter madness. Would Dark Star even attempt this impossible feat or just feed off the stored power of the souls, engorging themselves and growing in potency? You catch a frown on Luke’s face as he reads your confused and disbelieving scowl. Quickly flushing the expression away, you reply, “That is very helpful. It does put the pieces together as well as anything could. But I think I will need to meditate on it, to help internalise your words and message. And don’t worry, as soon as you need me, call me. I’ll be there, ready.”

“Don’t worry, kid, I plan to; someone your size is going to be very helpful. Now go away, meet new people, make new friends. This isn’t a place just for religion and strategy, but for socialising and helping one another.” The senior Luke gives you a gentle shove, sending you away from the group.

You notice Master Adacter is gone; you cannot see the tall man in the crowd despite all the malnourished bodies from which hunger has stolen both height and muscle. It is likely better this way; the pair of you can cover more ground and discover different things, which will give you greater insight. Out of the corner of your eye, you spot the middle-aged speaker; the closer you are to him, the more you see of the rage-filled ravenous beast in his eyes. His features are gaunt and emaciated as if his skin is tightly bound around his skeleton. His skull and exposed arms are entirely hairless with blotches of discoloured, sick purple-black flesh.

“Uh, sir, it is an honour to meet you.” Deciding your best path forward is to play the adoring fanatic, you approach him with a skip in your step and add nervous jitters to your motions. Reaching out with a hand to shake his, the speaker recoils at your attempted interaction. “I can’t believe I have received the honour to be part of our liberation. If you wouldn’t mind, could you go into speak more on The Singularity? There’s so much I want to learn, and I think someone with your knowledge would be able to truly explain the details of the faith in depth, without missing things others, who are less knowledgeable, would.”

The speaker’s chest puffs out, and he stands to his full height; you still easily tower over the waste of a man. Standing as proud and regal as this decrepit man is able to, he smiles, already enjoying the sound of his voice that plays within his head. “Of course, my son, I can see why you have been tasked with the offensive action. It is only a shame I have not been able to spread my word to you in person. As you know, I am Harforth, I am the leader of this flock, and I am the Eldest. All Elders on this planet serve under me. I saw someone with your frame talking with Luke; I assume you are part of his men. In short, we are all believers that the galaxy can, and should be a better place. It started with Traum the Prophet, a Force user who studied the religion of the Jedi and rejected it. Travelling around the galaxy, he studied everything he could get his hands upon. Also, meeting similar people with parallel abilities who also rejected the doctrines of the Jedi. One day, he found an ancient device full of teachings of the Force and rediscovered the ancient technique to lift someone’s soul from their body.”

You nod along to his words, not interrupting his flow. Undoubtedly, the man loves talking.

“Traum the Prophet was gifted by a vision one night in his sleep. But not from the Force, but himself from the future, cutting through time and space. He was shown that with enough power, he could wrestle and consume the will of the Force and exalt himself to its position. For the last two hundred years, he has spread our message. With our faith, support, and souls, he will enact a ritual to reconstruct reality. Where Jedi let those outside of the Republic suffer; he will bring all liberation, prosperity, and happiness; no matter which side of imaginary borders they are. Traum is a kind and generous man, wanting the Jedi as friends and bearing no ill will towards them. But they have forced the Republic to ban our religion, our beliefs and our very choice. So, we will leave for the Hutt empire for emancipation. The Singularity and the Hutts have a tacit agreement: we will support them in military matters, and they will gift us worlds and provide us shelter.”

A man taps his shoulder and whispers in Harforth’s ear. “Sorry young man, I have to go, I have work to do. Luke will take good care of you.”

Harforth disappears into the crowd, and you spy Master Adacter standing near the exit. Some members are beginning to leave, while others show no signs that they are planning to exit the man-made cavern any time soon. Walking towards the disguised Jedi Master, you give him the smallest flash of a smile and leave beside him. You begin your journey to return to the surface, killing the remainder of your stillborn patrol. The pair of you exchange whispers, sharing the information you have recovered. He congratulates you on your lead of the successful reconnaissance mission and informs you that he will call a meeting with the other Masters, discussing their future actions. Once done, the Padawans will be notified of the plan.

When you get back to your home, what do you do? If you want you can mix a train with a talk to x.
>Train with your Lightsaber(Solo)
>Train with the Force (with Claire)
>Talk to (Luke/Claire/Vila) about (What?)
>Other(Write-in)

>>5791965
>Train with the Force (with Claire)
take off the bandana
>Talk to Luke to clear the air about claire

>>5791969
Support
We just wanted to be friends with the only other memeber of our species that we knew of.

>>5791969
>support

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As soon as you arrive back at your home, Master Adacter continues his fast gait and strolls into the second living room. Almost instantly, different doors swing wide open to reveal Master after Master; they all follow in Master Adacter’s path and quickly join him for a meeting of the minds. You do rather enjoy the sight of the poised and distinguished Masters appearing from nowhere, strutting with dignity and grace, only to be followed by Porro, who still stumbles awkwardly on his prosthetic leg like a drunken deer. Before anything else, you decide you need to cook up some food; you’ve not eaten since last night, skipping breakfast to avoid being late for your patrol.

Entering the kitchen, you open the dull grey fridge, withdrawing a transparent plastic tray of meat. Placing a worn iron skillet onto the hob, you place the thin slices of meat onto the metal. The food begins to sizzle as you dice up a thick and starchy vegetable. Chucking the vegetables onto the skillet, you pour a sauce over it all and allow them to fry together. Enjoying the smell emanating from the pan, you hurriedly get yourself a plate and cutlery. Pouring the contents of the skillet onto your plate, you suppress the overpowering urge to consume your meal then and there, and return to the fridge to get yourself a glass of fruit juice.

“Thanks,” Calls out a feminine voice from behind you. “I really need this after last night.”

Turning around, you carelessly close the fridge with the Force, creating a slam as you gaze at Vila. She is sitting across the counter from your seat, holding your fork in hand, snacking on your food. With a sigh of resignation, you get yourself a second fork; this time, it will be for you. Sitting down on the opposite side of the counter on one of the high stools, you ravenously devour your meal while Vila occasionally picks at it. You begin to speak to her about your discovery this morning and the incoming attack, the information doesn’t much excite her. Vila’s focus barely leaves your food.

“Sounds like we will be in for some fun then.” Vila finally replies, stretching and letting out a yawn before finishing off your drink. “See you later. I’m going to brush up on my Lightsaber skills.”

“Not until after you clean up. It’s your payment for the food.” You protest, quickly walking away, forcing her to deal with the mess you created.

Finding yourself outside Luke’s door, you wince at the coming conversation, knowing you will not enjoy any part of it. With your head resting in your hands, you play out imaginary conversations with him, testing out the best words for the situation. Deciding that none of your imagined approaches work and you are simply being a coward, you rap on the door with your knuckles, not going for the bell. There is no answer. You stand and wait for him to come to the door. A minute passes, and this time, you press the bell. Hearing the chime ring from inside the room, you groan; at least you know it works.

“You need something?” A deep voice startles you from behind.

Turning around, you see a topless Luke, wearing only shorts. His brown hair is slick with the sweat that covers his muscular body. His face is blotchy and red from exercise, but his voice is impassive and supremely neutral. The way he looks at you feels as if he is focused not on you but on a distant object hidden behind yourself. There is a silence with him waiting for the words you were wanting to deliver and you mentally stumbling over them.

“Been gyming it?” You ask, thinking it likely isn’t the best thing to blurt out the real reason you wanted to speak to him; best to ease into it.

“Ah, you know me, when am I not?”

“You hear the news?”

He withers at the comment and quickly recovers himself into his neutral, uncaring demeanour. His voice is deeper than usual, with all emotion dead. “No, what news?”

“The Singularity plans to attack us here in two days, and three members of Dark Star are coming to this planet and plan to steal a ship, to get their followers into Hutt space.” At these words, Luke’s façade cracks and shock consumes his features.

Luke’s voice returns back to its regular tone and cadence; he asks, “You serious? What’s our plan?”

“Master Adacter and the other Masters are discussing that now; he told me they’ll be meditating on it, and after a decision has been reached, they’ll inform us.”

“Shit, this is big... Isn’t this the first time you have fought something that isn’t a ghost? Don’t worry, I will protect you. It isn’t a big deal; just stay close to me.” Smirks, your taller friend.

“Blow me cunt,” You chuckle back at him. “Oh, about last night.”

“It is fine, it doesn’t matter, I don’t care.” Luke frowns and tries to wave the words away with his hands.

“Nothing happened, mate. Don’t worry about a thing; we were just talking. That’s all.”

“Sure, I believe you. I don’t even know why you think I ever liked Claire in that way. Now stop dwelling on it and get in shape. We have some guests to prepare for. Go train.” Luke gives you a smile, which you suspect is a mask, and a hearty slap on your shoulder then retreats into his room.

With that done, you have been wanting to train with Claire for a while. Out of all the Padawans, she has the most skill with the Force, and there is much she can teach you. While you are certainly not bad with directing the currents of the Force, you are not adept with it in the same way as you are with Lightsabers. Climbing the stairs, you find yourself on the grass-coated roof, seeing the young chalk-skinned Ramdar woman meditating, hovering a foot above the ground with eyes closed. Greeting her, she abruptly falls to the soft ground. Her hair now messy and unkempt due to her fall, and her cheeks are a bright burning red as she gazes up at you.

“Uh, hi Chris, what are you doing here?” She speaks with enough speed to blend her words into one another, almost making them indecipherable. Claire begins to tidy her hair as she stands up with a shy smile.

“I thought you could help me learn…

>how to move larger objects with the Force.” (You can lift man-sized things currently; this would allow you to move small vehicles)
>how to control my Lightsabers with the Force.” (This will enable you to wield your Lighsabers without touching them just using the Force; think Keria’s boss battle of KotOR 2)
>how to stun people with the Force.” (This will allow you to send out a wave of Force energy that will mentally stun those weaker in the Force)

Sorry about yesterday, I was still suffering a hangover from drinks in the office on Thursday.

>>5794997
>how to control my Lightsabers with the Force.” (This will enable you to wield your Lighsabers without touching them just using the Force; think Keria’s boss battle of KotOR 2)
This is great for a dual wielder

>>5794997
>how to control my Lightsabers with the Force.” (This will enable you to wield your Lighsabers without touching them just using the Force; think Keria’s boss battle of KotOR 2)
This looks too cool to pass up

>>5794997
>how to stun people with the Force.” (This will allow you to send out a wave of Force energy that will mentally stun those weaker in the Force)
some nonlethal crowd control will be very useful against the attackers we're about to face

>>5794997
>Control lightsabers with the force

Are you fucking kidding? HELL YEAH

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… how to control my Lightsabers with the Force.”

“Sure!” Claire blurts out with excitement. “Ok, well, let’s begin with you closing your eyes and feeling the world around you, feel your Lightsabers.”

Shutting both your eyes closed, you listen to her approaching voice as she walks behind you. Without sight, you feel the life all around you, in the grass by your feet, the people in the building underfoot, and the girl standing behind you. More importantly, you can feel both your Lightsabers in the Force, like two juvenile stars glowing in the darkness. The kyber crystals sing to you as you focus in on them, and you are able to see the hilts with a growing clarity, which soon surpasses your own sight. Locked to your belt, all you have to do is will them, and they will move.

“Good, now bring them just in front of your hands, but not in them. Yes, like that, and keep concentrating on your Lightsabers and swing your hands as if you are holding them while willing your Lightsabers to move.”

Feeling the switch on your Lightsabers, you depress it, and both blades come to life with a whoosh. And you swing your right arm, as if you were still gripping the handle, whilst imagining the blade you hold with the Force swinging. You are rewarded with a hum as the Lightsaber cleaves through the air. Your confidence grows, and you begin swinging both of your arms, with your Lightsabers following a lightning-fast Juyo attack pattern. If you saw yourself, you would chuckle at the sight of your arms flailing around as if to fight off some invisible opponent, but you do not care. You are enraptured by the blades you are not touching with your hands, the ones that are slicing through the air in arcs of devastating slashes.

“Excellent!” Claire squeaks out, impressed at your performance and your quick adaptation to the technique. “Now open your eyes and keep your arms by your side; let your mind do all the work. Remember, this isn’t about strength but finesse. All you need to do is focus on the dexterity of which you control your Lightsabers.”

Vila soon appears from the stairs leading from the house to the roof as you continue your practice. Soon, she and Claire battles against a different Lightsaber of yours, you test their defences, as you train yourself to be able to fight off two separate foes with each blade. It is a mental battle to sustain your will and concentration, one you lose multiple times, sending an attack stupidly wide or dropping a Lightsaber into the mud and grass below. But it becomes easier as time passes, that is, ignoring the growing headache from sustaining the technique for so long. You begin to start moving, doing light exercises as your Lightsabers bounce against Claire’s and Vila’s parries.

“Padawans,” Calls out Master Ravel, Luke’s Master, an Ithorian, hours after you began learning the skill. “Please join us downstairs.”

You follow the strange, dull green, flat-faced alien down the stairs with speed, anticipation growing, knowing that this will lead you to your first test of real combat. It strikes you just then that Claire is the only one who doesn’t know about the coming attack. You really should have told her beforehand, but you were so locked into learning this new skill you forgot to mention it to her. Ah, well, there isn’t much you can do now; she will find out soon by more eloquent beings than yourself. You arrive in the second living room, there is Luke already sitting on the main sofa while the Masters are dotted around the room, sitting on solitary chairs facing him. You, Claire, and Vila join Luke on the couch, looking at the Masters, who are gazing back at you, measuring, evaluating, and studying.

“Greetings, Padawans; allow me to restate what Master Adacter and Chris discovered today.” Master Jalen, the Devaronian, greets you with a gentle, disarming smile intending to soothe. He begins to recap everything you learned at the meeting the pair of you snuck into. The only one who reacts is the one who is hearing it for the first time, Claire.

“We have come to a decision on what our actions will be. If you want to bring up any concerns or ideas, please do.” Continues Master Adacter in his posh upper-class Coruscanti accent, which has always struck you as odd as he came from a decidedly middle-class family. “Me, Master Jalen and Master Ravel will go to Garnoth city in secret during the morning before the attack, to catch and stop the members of Dark Star. Meanwhile, Master Porro and you Padawans will stay here and lead a counter-ambush on the cultists of The Singularity. We have requested two Republic gunships to circle the skies and await your orders on the day of the attack. As well as air support, they will promptly drop off troops to pin The Singularity’s men, trapping them. We feel with such support, you should not have an issue. But if for any reason you feel you do not want to take part in this, please let us know and why.”

There is a gap of silence in which no one speaks, but a huff emanates from the unhappy face of Porro. Master Ravel quickly follows on from the silence, “Well, if any of you want to speak to us in private, you are welcome to, please don’t be shy. Furthermore, do you have any questions or comments on the plan?”

None of your friends speak, Luke wears a brash confident grin, clearly looking forward to testing his prowess. Claire in turn looks decidedly more nervous but she quickly hides it under a look of steely determination and nods her head in acceptance of the mission. Meanwhile, Vila is lost in thought, pondering the plan and trying to come up with a thought on how to improve it; coming to nothing she simply nods her head with a smile of approval.

Do you have anything to say about the plan?
>Write-in
>No

After this you have scheduled a call with Alyla, which typically happens a couple times a week, how do you feel about her now?
>You still have a boyish crush on her
>You respect her and see her as a friend
>Write-in

>>5796618
>No
>Still too close for the Order's liking but not romantic

>>5796618
>She is still an Idol of ours, a hero of the jedi. But we've moved on from infatuation.

>To adapt the plan, The mob needs to not notice the air support and still have a belief that we are inside to catch them off guard. Is there a way to slip out unnoticed that we can use? Maybe rig the air conditioning to vent in tear gas/knock out gas so when they come in to ambush us they can be subdued none lethally? We're jedi and these are desperate people, we should be trying to minimise loss of sentient life.

Bit under the weather, and tomorrow I'm travelling for work. So next update will be Wednesday. If you have any criticisms or suggestions on what you want me to do better going forwards please say.

>>5796618
Do you have anything to say about the plan?
Just to keep in mind that every act of aggression, even in self defense, can drum up more support for the Singularity.
How do you feel about her now?
>You still have a boyish crush on her

>>5798178
This is true, so we want to try and isolate optics?

Mulling the plan over, a few thoughts and possible issues come to mind. The air support will need to go unnoticed; if not, then the cultists will realise that their plan has been discovered. When Luke, the native to Ravaath not the Padawan, calls you, is there a way to escape unnoticed from the commotion? Also, the whole plan could be a two-faced Jedi trap; either they succeed and kill you, or they fail and potentially cause a public relations nightmare with all the broken bodies. Even if you ignore the Jedi moral responsibilities, it would be much more strategically prudent to minimise bloodshed.

“Should we not try nonlethal methods to subdue them?” You ask, looking into the different faces of the Masters, studying their reactions. “I mean, this could be used against us and turn public opinion in favour of them? Also, how should I leave the attacking force without getting noticed?”

“I think when they tell you to join the attack, give some reason why you can’t converge with them. I don’t like the idea of you being split from the group when the fighting starts. About the lethality of your task, it is something we have considered, but with their use of deadly weapons in a civilian area where there is a risk of collateral damage. And furthermore, with your and the Republic troopers’ lives on the line, we think using lethal force is the safest option for all involved.” Answers Master Adacter in his reserved, almost apathetic voice. You can’t help but look at him and see the emotionless and cold demeanour of a Jedi Master who has stripped himself of all worldly desires and attachments. You are not sure you like that interpretation of the Jedi code. “But it is good that you view things in such a way. Anything else?”

“Is there a way we are hiding the gunships? And have we thought about non-lethal gas to immobilise them?”

This time, Master Jalen answers, “Yes, they are going to be under the lip of the city, blocked from view. As soon as you call them, they will race here to support you. About using gas weapons, that is an idea. While I don’t think we can place dispensers around, I can order an automatic mortar with gas rounds, as well as masks for you guys. Have it slaved to one of the gunships, letting you ignore anything but the intruders. Yes, that seems like something worth having; well done.”

Master Ravel finishes off the discussion with, “We aren’t going to plan on how you should engage combat with them. Those sorts of plans will break apart. We will trust in the Force and your spur-of-the-moment decisions. Ensure you are prepared for the attack, but don’t overtrain and damage yourself; we need you fit and ready. Use what remains of these two days as you wish.”

You are Alyla, and you are gazing into a blue holographic image of the boy you saved in what feels like a lifetime ago. He greeted you with the same wide smile full of excitement and joy he has been wearing for you this last year, now the veil hiding his face is gone. But this wasn’t the only change in the boy-turned-man; now, when he looks, talks, and thinks of you, there is something gone. Something is missing that you ache for, if only in a selfish way. The love hidden in his eyes has cooled from an intense passion of a first unrequited love to the feelings of brother to sister. It shouldn’t bother you, and if anyone asked you would say it doesn’t and that you are happy for it, but it very much does.

He says something and gives a soft chuckle at his own words, looking effortlessly handsome with his face finally uncovered; you reply with a polite laugh of your own, but thoroughly unable to focus on his words. With the cooling of his feelings towards you and the years you’ve spent apart, you can’t help but worry that his feelings will continue to mellow towards you, creating a wider and wider gap that only leaves echoes of memories of things that once were. At some point, will he just look back at the time you spent together and only feel shame for clinging to you when he had little else?

The call ends, and you are alone in your room. And your chest aches. No longer does he need you, no longer does he want you, not in the same way. Your heart slowly thumps with a mournful dirge as energy saps from your body, leaving you stone cold. He’s grown up, and you’ve missed it; he has spent those years suffering under that oaf Porro. And what you and he had is gone; he is now a different man, he has become a man you have never even met in the flesh. The insecurities that defined him are gone or are buried so deep he cannot even remember them; no longer does he yearn for your comfort, instead he projects a radiant aura of confidence. He doesn’t need you anymore.

You know you shouldn’t care, no, you should be happy for him, but you feel robbed and alone, knowing what was once there will never be the same again. That it will be replaced with something lesser and more distant. And as time does, its currents will continue to erode what is there, eating away at the weakening bond. How many times a week will he want to call you in ten years? You know you should be happy, proud, and all sorts of other positive emotions, but you feel robbed. Never again will the small boy run into your arms demanding a hug to wash away a bad day, one that only you can provide, bringing a strange, different type of joy to your world that you will never get to experience again.

Despite Master Ravel’s words, you’ve been pushing yourself hard. The sky that surrounds you is dark as night rolls in. Tomorrow is the day of action, and you know you are well prepared. Bowing to Master Jalen, you and he finish sparring. You are exhausted, and he drove you relentlessly in today’s session. He, himself, is strained from testing his skill against Master Adacter; the pair are thought of as the greatest swordsmen of the era. Where Master Adacter is poised, disciplined, and detached, allowing no positive emotion to exist so that it can’t be usurped to darkness; Master Jalen is full of love for the galaxy and those in it, he is much freer with his emotions, allowing feelings to flourish.

Just as you are about to retreat to a shower and cleanse yourself, before flopping exhausted onto your bed, Porro appears. He watches your lethargic movements, measuring and evaluating you. While you do train with him every other day, Porro has continued his insulting approach of only going through the basics, wasting yours and his time. He calls out just as you take the first step down the stairs into the building, “Christopher, I think it is time to show me what you’ve learnt. I think it is time for us to spar, so I can make sure you are skilled enough for tomorrow.”

He waited for you to finish with Master Jalen, waiting for you to be exhausted for his time to pounce, for your very first sparring session in the long years you’ve been with him. All fatigue is forgotten as your mind lights up with disgust of this man and the primal hunger to beat him, to humiliate the old cripple in front of an audience like he wishes to you. This is your shot to show him how great you are, how much you’ve eclipsed him; where age has gnawed at him, it has transformed you into something special, something potent, something far beyond this husk of a Jedi.

You…
>Duel him (roll three sets of d20s)
>No, you will not give him the pleasure

Rolled 18 (1d20)

>>5800625
>Duel him (roll three sets of d20s)

Rolled 2 (1d20)

>>5800625
>Duel him (roll three sets of d20s)
Not a duel, but a lesson. For him.

>>5800625
>No, you will not give him the pleasure
Your approval means nothing to me or to anyone. You are not the standard by which I measure my growth.

Rolled 13 (1d20)

>>5800625
>Duel him (roll three sets of d20s)

Why is he offering us this duel? Does he want us to be as exhausted as possible tomorrow so we'll die or be harmed in the attack?

>>5801091
>Then there is his shame and resentment of the outcome on Thule. Why did he, the “master”, lose his leg instead of you? Why did you, his young apprentice, last longer against the ancient Sith? Why didn’t you die? There is also resentment at you, and this compulsory bond of teacher and student that is forced onto him as punishment.
Last thread you felt his mind, he feels humiliated by how you walked away (relatively) unharmed while he lost his leg. And there is also a level of insecurity, he isnt sure if you have surpassed him with your skill with Lightsabers. Also it is a domiance thing as well, you are very rebellious and match his terseness. He doesn't want you dead, not that he would care, but its more to humiliate you and put you down.

>>5800625
>No, you will not give him the pleasure
>"I've no need for a failures assessment."

I want to smash him. But we should not give the dark such an opening as the rush of battle against a man we despise.
The duel would be won, and handily, but it is a form of temperance. The dismissal will sting him enough.

It's alright Alyla, you're still our idol.

I can also see a duel as a possible path to reconciliation with him. If he's actually been working to improve as a Jedi it will be evident which is part of our issue with him.

>>5801171
That implies several things at odds with our knowledge of Porro.

Namely that he cares about improvement. Or he has any higher goal than hedonism.

but you've given me the push.

>>5801146
>Change to duel him
>"Lets see if you have anything worth learning"

I'll note that the jabs are meant to be prideful, it's a trait.

It sucks that we could've been put with either of the two of the greatest swordsmen as our master. Turok's a real bitch for putting anyone with Porro. His reasoning still falls flat for me.

>>5801190
The twin reasoning
>You are too close to Alyla for the order to permit
and
>If you don't get picked this year, you have to be picked next year [a gamble] or we lose you to the service corps.

>>5801194
Right but our experiences with Porro are putting us at serious risk for dark side compromise and some level of disillusionment with the Order, if we fall it's ultimately on him in my opinion

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“Of course, Master, let us see if you have anything worth learning.” You say with a tight and unfriendly smile, using his title for the first time in years in mock deference.

“Maybe we should leave this for later,” Cuts in Master Jalen, trying to turn all eyes to him, but yours are locked onto Porro. “From our training, I am confident Chris is more than ready for tomorrow.”

The words go unheeded as you and Porro watch each other with intense, unblinking glares as you begin to circle the other. Night robs detail and definition from his form, but you see him well enough with your eyes and easily with the Force. Your hands hover by your Lightsabers hanging off your belt, not yet grabbing them as you peer through the darkness, studying the balding middle-aged Evocii. While your body may have been exhausted during the declaration of the challenge, the adrenalin flooding your system causes your body to forget your aches and fatigue, birthing a new source of untapped energy to draw upon.

“No, Jalen, as his Master,” A word he empathises with force. “It is important that I know he will be capable of defending himself tomorrow. If you wish to leave, you are welcome to.”

There are no further words spoken by anyone; Master Jalen watches on wordlessly, unsure how to repair the situation from loosely veiled hostility to passive-aggressive normalcy. You and Porro continue circling each other, but with every step, the circle you are drawing shrinks further. There is a hunger inside you that roars for you to charge him and unleash a rabid Juyo offensive upon him; you certainly have the emotions to fuel the form. But you swallow it down and try to keep as calm and measured as possible, which is a herculean task with all of the adrenalin roiling inside of you. You will not succumb to the temptation, instead, you will use your skill in cold, emotionless Makashi to dismantle him.

In an instant burst of action, three Lightsabers are snatched into hands and ward off the darkness of night with bars of blue plasma. With a push of your front leg, you thrust out with your full-sized Lightsaber towards his face, aided by Force-enhanced speed. Porro, who is gripping his hilt in both hands, batters away your attack with a wild swing while retreating a few steps. Moving in to continue the pressure, you find that the wide, desperate sweep of Porro’s Lightsaber was a feint to set up a powerful counter-slash. His hands are gripping his weapon by his shoulder, then he swings diagonally down in a powerful arching slice. You do not have time to dodge. All you can do is bring up your Shoto to catch the reaping blow and throw your momentum behind the parry; the equal forces cause both blades to lock up between the pair of you.

You retreat with a skip in your step and loose off another jab to ward off the advancing Evocii, stopping him dead in his tracks; otherwise, he would have charged right into your blade. Leading with your Shoto raised, you catch his weaker, unprepared blows and shoot out an odd jab from the Lightsaber you hold coiled back. The older man is struggling on his feet; with each footfall, he has to fight with his prosthetic leg to try to remain upright. But despite that, the sibling blades you wield are overwhelming his defences, and would remain so even if he still had two legs, his single Lightsaber cannot simply be in two places. You realise something as the exchange continues: not only are you stronger than the old man, you are faster as well. The only thing that he could possess to defeat you is tempered skill, and either it is something he does not have, or it is something he left to atrophy as he engaged in his vices. In a quick flurry, you snap at him, not truly aiming to score a blow but to force the man back and unsteady him.

Porro goes for a desperate overhead downward strike, as if to cleave you into two, but it is already over. Your main Lightsaber spears his hands; the light burn causes the blade to fall from the pudgy fingers. The blue of his Lightsaber disappears into darkness as the bar of plasma retreats into the hilt as it tumbles to the ground. A slice scores across his rotund belly with enough force to throw him to the floor from your Shoto. You stand over the defeated man. Porro looks up and sees a figure submerged in the darkness of night towering over him. The only details are gifted by the two sapphire blades illuminating your hands and the bloody crimson of your eyes. You loom over the defeated Evocii and sneer at the defeated wastrel. His cowardly plan to humiliate you has failed. Looking down on him, you feel supremely powerful and utterly confident in a way you have never felt before.

“Thank you, Master,” You say with a voice dripping with venom as your Lightsabers go out and night subsumes all into shadow.

You tap your fingers impatiently against the kitchen counter with the rest of your friends dotted around the room. It is a new day and two hours from the assault from the cultists from The Singularity. Perched on top of the building you have been calling home is an automatic mortar with gas rounds, provided and set up by Master Jalen last night. The gas is an irritant, potentially causing coughing, pain in the eyes, and temporary blindness. All of you have gas masks hanging around your necks. Porro doesn’t even deign to look at you, instead he gazes into the black screen of an unpowered Holoprojector, which you find some smug satisfaction in knowing it is the humiliation of him losing to his Padawan that plagues his mind.

A chime from your Commlink alerts you to a new message: “Chris, this is Jaina. Please help me. I can’t dissuade my brother from the madness of today’s attack. Please come talk him out of it or something. Don’t let him join this attack. He’s all I have. I’m so sorry for bothering you today, but I need you. He’s all amped up and acting crazy. I’d call the local security forces, but if a group of people approached our house, I know he’d do something stupid. You owe me, if not for me, you would have never found The Singularity.”

You…
>Have time, a couple of hours, quickly help Jaina by either talking to her brother or subduing him
>Leave her pleads unanswered, you can’t risk the possibility of spending too much time there

>>5801651
>Have time, a couple of hours, quickly help Jaina by either talking to her brother or subduing him

>>5801651
>Have time, a couple of hours, quickly help Jaina by either talking to her brother or subduing him

I'm getting paranoid. Was Jaina in on it, making sure we came to a meeting? If she's in the Singularity they could have planned this to give us false information. The timing of this is incredibly suspect. She could be planning to divide and weaken us.

Then again she could really be a concerned sister. Hard to say.

>Have time, a couple of hours, quickly help Jaina by either talking to her brother or subduing him

>>5801651
>Leave her pleas unanswered, you can’t risk the possibility of spending too much time there
Going with my gut

>>5801651
>Aid her.

We're the best swordsman among the padawans, but our loss here isn't fatal, and depending on our timing. . . we could attack them from the rear.
But yeah, lets sneak out.

I do have some concerns, namely why does she know about the attack if it's her brother who is in the cult, and he was told to not share, on pains of death.

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You have to help her, you owe it to Jaina. If not for her actions, you would have no idea of The Singularity’s presence on this planet, let alone the incoming attack. And it is not like you are abandoning your friends; you have hours until The Singularity’s assault begins. You should have more than enough time to resolve the situation and return. Worst comes to worst, and you get delayed, there will be two gunships, each containing a platoon of highly trained and well-equipped commandos, three Padawans, Porro and non-lethal gas weapons. They will not need you against a horde of malnourished, desperate workers.

“Guys, I need to go.” You announce to the Jedi around you. Your deep voice travels through the quiet and anxious room, turning all eyes to you. “The local that helped us uncover this plot needs my help. I won’t be long or far, I’ll be back long before the showdown starts.”

Claire and Vila verbally display reservations at you splitting off from the group when the attack is to commence within a few hours. Conversely, Luke supports you in your decision; he agrees that we, as a collective, owe Jaina for the help she has given us. If not for her words, The Singularity would have likely stormed this place while you were unaware, without time to prepare and requisition the gunships as support. The conflict could very easily be in their favour. Porro gives you no reply throughout the exchange, completely uncaring as the events do not pertain to him.

You take one of the various speeders from the house’s garage and fly over the city, toward the coordinates attached to Jaina’s message. Arriving at the dock on the far side of the floating city, you park the vehicle in one of the expansive grids of parking lots. Large star ships touch down nearby as they descend from the heavens, unloading massive quantities of supplies in and out of the city. Sitting beside the docks is a hub of bulky hovertrains which attach each city to the others. They travel along beams of hard light that cut across the gaseous planet.

Leaving the spaceport, you walk with a quick gate towards the elevator with a fast gait, making sure not to be too late to provide help to Jaina whilst not running and creating an odd spectacle for the public. You take side alleys between residential blocks to decrease the time of your journey. You are not far from the elevator now, which will take you down to the undercity, to Jaina’s home. Entering a new alleyway, you see a figure obscured by the stretching shadows of the buildings that surround you. The figure is a small humanoid cloaked in midnight black robes; you feel something is very wrong, and the Force cries out danger. As you approach the unmoving figure, you spot pale flesh under the hood, two golden-brown eyes, raven black hair perfectly melding into her obsidian cowl, and the feminine face of a young woman you guess to be roughly fifteen years of age.

“Hi,” Says Jaina in a gentle, noncombative voice. She reaches out a flat palm, and her face changes to one of panic as your hands go to your Lightsabers. “Please stop, wait, I am here just to talk. I am not looking for a fight.”

Your voice drops a few octaves in a low, threatening growl. “Then speak.”

She starts with a voice still soft and deferential, “I have lied to you-”

“Obviously,” You cut in as you scowl at the girl, your hands aching to grasp your Lightsabers and activate them.

“Yes, so, I’ve lied to you. I do not live on this planet, and while I do have a brother, the one I described to you is fictional.” She winces at her own words and your reaction to them. “I am a junior member of Dark Star, and I mean you no harm. All I seek are new friends and allies, not fresh enemies. The coming altercation is not one we want but one ordered by the Hutts. They give us a place to live without being hunted or imprisoned for our thoughts, our beliefs, and in turn, we have to do their bidding. It is a relationship we loathe, knowing our actions will cause pain, suffering and sometimes death. But we have been forced into their grip by our persecution from the Republic and Jedi, people we do not consider or want as enemies. All we want is a better future for all beings.”

Your scowl deepens, and words build in your mouth. But she continues to speak before you can loose them, while producing a datapad from the shadows of her robe, “Please look at this.”

Snatching the slate, you peer into the screen and see an image of a world. One almost entirely brown with some small bodies of water, and then you notice the name next to the planet, Achlys. At first, you think there is some kind of mistake, the planet should be a sooty grey due to the fog that clings to the surface, imprisoning the planet below its grasp. The screen changes and displays a new image: a steel tumour stretching out consuming the area around it, and then it alters to a picture of corpses of the fantastic beasts that once stalked the kilometre-high fog of Achlys. Finally, it ends with an image of hundreds of Ramdar men with electronic collars fastened around their necks, walking in single file into an open-pit mine. Fifty feet away from them is a prone corpse. His neck is gone, and his shoulders are burnt black flesh with chunks of his skull are scattered across the ground, and his pooling blood pains the grass a dark sickly red.

“They enslave your men and use your women as disposable mistresses,” Jaina continues with a face full of disgust at the vile words escaping her lips. “The Hutts approve and condone this unforgiveable wickedness across the stars, not only to your people but many other races. This isn’t the galaxy we want; I know it isn’t the one you want. But I am not sure about the Jedi or the Republic. They seem to tacitly accept such horrors being the day-to-day experiences of entire races; of course, they condemn and say all the right words, but they do nothing. They do nothing at all, terrified at the change of the status quo, horrified it will cause some temporary hardships, which in this galactic democracy is utterly unacceptable. The Republic is the agent of decay, watching the entire galaxy, which they control, rot under their watch. We have a grander dream, one where we eliminate this kind of barbarity. That is why The Singularity is spreading across the galaxy like wildfire; they, the people, know that we represent the change they crave. And we would like for you to join us, come with me, and leave this planet. Help us free your people, help us build up our strength and remove the Hutts from power.”

There is some truth in Jaina’s words; you’ve vocalised your anger at both the Jedi and the Republic for their inaction many times over. For how they denounce slavery and the myriad of suffering throughout the Hutt empire but do nothing as centuries pass, and generation upon generation are born in shackles. Even more insulting, the Republic is trying to craft trade deals in hopes of normalising relations with the Hutts. Through trade, they feebly hope to spread their culture into the realm of the Hutts. Not understanding this will result in nothing but lining the Hutts’ fat pockets with even more coffers. You…

IMPORTANT CHOICE THAT WILL TAKE THE QUEST IN VERY DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS
>Will help your people, but not by working with cultists that speak of freedom then ritually sacrificing their members, arrest her.
>Will join Dark Star, the Republic and Jedi will do nothing despite this never-ending cycle of suffering, leave this world with Jaina.

Unsure if I will be able to update tomorrow, I'm going to watch the football then I'm watching 294.

>Will join Dark Star, the Republic and Jedi will do nothing despite this never-ending cycle of suffering, leave this world with Jaina.

I think this is just more interesting, narratively speaking. Our desire to destroy the huts and slavery, coupled by the Jedi order shoving us onto a garbage master is a good excuse, and yeah, she isn’t wrong with the Jedi and Republic being very confortable with the status quo. Besides, if this somehow leads to us going down a dark path, we can get our redemption arc later, which is great. I see no downsides to this option!

>>5802736
>Will help your people, but not by working with cultists that speak of freedom then ritually sacrificing their members, arrest her.
For her to speak of barbarity is beyond hypocritical. The singularity is a virus that preys upon the lives of the most vulnerable people in the galaxy for their own ends. We will destroy them and the Hutts with our own hands.

Now we need to get back to our friends, they could be in much more danger than we thought depending upon the extent of Jaina's lies.

We need a new Jedi faction. One that gives true hope to the people instead of leaving them so destitute and essentially enslaved with invisible chains that they're vulnerable to false hope like the Singularity. One that isn't a tool of the Republic but keeps the Republic in check. One that doesn't allow the Hutts to do as they please. The force itself is in danger and needs true warriors to defend it. The order as it exists today is incapable of doing so. If this was a third option I'd pick it in a heartbeat.

>>5802777
Vote for arrest, and then wait for the end of the thread. There will be a vote with one option that will lead into something similar to that.

>>5802736
>Will help your people, but not by working with cultists that speak of freedom then ritually sacrificing their members, arrest her.

>>5802760
She is also a hypocrite because she just said that the Singularity is causing massacres and furthering the goals of the hutts.
They are doing the exact same thing for the hutts that they say the jedi are doing for the republic. Except that they plan to betray them, and knowing Sith, keep eveything running exacyly the same.
And they are fools of they think that the hutts, one of the most paranoid and traitorous being in the galaxy don't know they want to usurp them and are just using them as disposable tools.

>>5802736
>Will help your people, but not by working with cultists

>"Your intentions are noble, your words even ring with the truth. it's a shame that your actions betray them. Hutts are the worse of two inertial evils and I will ensure they are brought to justice for their complicity."

I don't believe they have a significant enough position to sway us. We are still Jedi without significant enough damage to our faith in them, Porro we have confined to his own ineptitude. Plus our first meeting with dark star was them trying to team up with a sith.
But I'd like to offer our own deal.

>"Help us stop this attack, we're going to try and minimise casualties as best as we can but the order of engagement is that 'lethal' is safer for our People. We will win handily but If you care about desperate people more than your Hutt Masters, then help me save them."

I remember their cults beliefs about reincarnation, but I don't think Chris considers it valid.

>>5802796
Darksiders, Not Sith.

Sith are an order of magnitude worse than darksiders, due to their specific beliefs and the danger of accumulated knowledge they have about the darkside.

>>5802914
>Darksiders, Not Sith.
Yeah, when I was thinking up the quest I wanted it to be something other than Rebels/Republic Vs Empire or Jedi Vs Sith. I feel it is overdone and wanted to do something new.

>>5803367
Aye. Theae chuckle fucks don't have a milennia worth of dark lore and sorcery to pull on. Confirmed anyway.

But that doesn't make them harmless. It just makes them dangerous in an unknown quantity.

>>5803386
For me, it just means that they aren't there yet.
They obliviously revere the Sith of the past, if they succeed with their plans, I see their transformation into something similar inevitable.

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What is this girl saying? How can one speak of helping and freeing people when her order wants to butcher them and steal their souls? Instead of even the base brutality of murder, they insidiously corrupt the impoverished and desperate of the galaxy; turning them into zealous fanatics who proselytize to their families, the ones they love, to try to get them to kill themselves for the cause. The freedom they offer is nothing of the sort; it is a greater slavery, slavery of the mind. If The Singularity usurps the Hutts, it could spell a worse existence for those that inhabit the Hutt Empire and be a terrible disaster galaxy-wide.

Thoughts of the atrocities The Singularity would and already have committed flower and grow within your head. Jaina’s duplicitous serpentine words stoke a fire of rage in your heart. You, in a way, respect the disgusting open viciousness of the Hutts. They do not lie about their actions, and if they were to do so, the galaxy would know better, while the words of The Singularity have fooled many good souls into damnation, debasement, and death. There are problems with the Jedi order and the Republic and many things in this galaxy, but the solutions that The Singularity offers are worse than the issues.

“I like your words. Many of them ring with truth, but there is so much left unsaid. You hide your horrors behind the atrocities of others.” You retort in a powerful, commanding tone that brokers no interruption. “If you truly want the Hutts brought to justice for their crimes against the peoples of the galaxy, I will spearhead that; I promise you. Stop the attack. If you really do not want bloodshed, let us de-escalate this conflict and keep your people alive. They have no chance even if I was unable to return.”

A forlorn expression grows over her face as you speak; with a slight shake of her head, Jaina replies, “You really don’t understand how the galaxy will be after the singularity, but I don’t fault you for that. Some things are hard to comprehend. But if you ever change your mind, we won’t forsake you. And no, I won’t call anything off; I don’t even have the power to, and I wouldn’t if I could. Lives have always been spent in the pursuit of greatness, independence, security, and a better existence, and they will be spent today. Isn’t that what Jedi do with their own lives?”

As soon as the teenage girl finishes her words, a potent wave of Force energy strikes your chest, throwing you to the ground with a painful thump. She leaps over your sprawled form and races down the street in the direction you came; each footfall is infused with the Force spurring her forwards with incredible speed. That rage that Jaina planted in you with her barbed words explodes. You scramble to your feet like a mad beast and sprint after the girl. With a flick of her hand, a dumpster flies across the street from its resting place against a wall. The steel container is meant to block your path, but you vault over it with practised ease.

Funnelling all your control of the Force, you pump it into your legs, catching up to the smaller figure in an attempt to detain Jaina. With one hand, you take out your Commlink and bring it to your gasping lips. You begin to lag slightly behind the young cultist and start a call with the Jedi on the planet, “The information we got was false. They’ve been playing us. I’m chasing a member of Dark Star. I’m sharing my location. I will likely need support. Be prepared for anything.”

Up above Ravaath, there are four brilliant blue blinks of realspace reversion. Only one is noted by the planet’s docking authority. The ship that is seen by the scanners, is reported to an uninterested woman who has never cared much for her job, the starship is a bulk hauler. It is a slow, fat, lumbering creature, sporting no weapons or shields. Nothing about its build is unusual in the slightest. The exterior wears no armour, it is a naked thing, just designed to get from one point to another as efficiently as possible. The ship has been used for centuries, hauling all kinds of goods through every major trade system during its long life. It sports scuff marks from poor landings and lazy docking procedures, born from a lack of care about the ugly beast.

The three other vessels could not be more dissimilar to the hulking whale. All are shielded from sight by electronic warfare suites. Where their companion is large, obese, and worn, they are still bulky, but there is a strength to their bulk and an arrogance displayed with the opulent gold coating the ships' shell. Two of them are warships; their frames bristle with potent turbolasers, powered up and ready to maul anything that wishes to stand against them. Powerful shields encase them in protective fields designed to shelter them against the pummelling blows of turbolasers. The fourth and final ship is much smaller than the warships; it does not require hundreds of beings to captain and pilot. Instead, it retains its siblings' design but is the size of a freighter.

The hauler requests permission to dock, and the docking authority promptly replies, giving an affirmative. Together, the odd group of vessels slowly and silently glide across the black midnight of space. This will be the largest operation any of the beings housed within the collection of ships have ever taken part in. Feelings differ from being to being, some cool, calm and confident, others flowing with violent energy which they display with chants and roars; there are even a few timid and fearful, that burry their emotions so as to not be humiliated and then mocked.

You’ve have chased the Dark Star Acolyte through the arena of parked speeders. Jaina has weaved over and under the personal vehicles with you trailing. While you are faster than her, she is effortlessly more agile. There have been moments where you’ve snatched at her cloak, the fabric almost in your grip, but it just escapes your grasp. Similarly, you’ve buffeted her with random items lying around, finding little success; most things miss her, and the objects that strike Jaina seem to do nothing to stop her escape. Still gripped in one hand is your Commlink, you hear the Masters bark new revised plans, but you cannot understand the words with your heart beating in your ears.

Jaina leaps onto the rear of a stationary hovertrains’ roof. Without pause, you throw yourself on top of the vessel, which is held up by hardlight linking it to another city. Eyes follow the pair of you, some amused by the sight, other onlookers are simply confused. You bark into your Commlink, silencing all of the voices on the channel, sharing your location and that the train can't be allowed to start its journey. Jaina turns around to face you, with a hilt of a Lightsaber in her hand. The handle spews an orange blade into reality; it hums with violent excitement, relishing the coming battle. Dropping your Commlink, you react instantly by grabbing both of your Lightsabers on your belt and igniting them.

Roll three d20s please
>Overwhelm her with an aggressive mix of Makashi and Juyo
>Wait for her attack, feel her fighting style out by staying on the defensive with Soresu before committing to an offence

Rolled 3 (1d20)

>>5804405
>Wait for her attack, feel her fighting style out by staying on the defensive with Soresu before committing to an offence

Rolled 3 (1d20)

>>5804405
>Overwhelm her with an aggressive mix of Makashi and Juyo
Time is of the essence. Be proactive instead of reactive.

>>5804407
>>5804409
Hope that the last roll is better.

Rolled 7 (1d20)

>>5804405
>Overwhelm her with an aggressive mix of Makashi and Juyo
this would be a horrible time to roll poorly, our entire build is specced toward dueling lol

>>5804414
Well that's technically a better roll, but it's not good enough

>>5804414
fuck

there's few things more annoying in quests than rolling extremely poorly at something the character has been shown to be extremely skilled at. at least it's just round one I guess.

>>5804441
At least rolling really well for things the character suck at counter act it when it happens.

>>5804441
You are right, probably shouldn't have had that as a roll, but I can do something with it.

>>5804449
could be a roll for emotional control with juyo

>>5804449
Maybe Jaina uses the force more then the lightsaber and it tripped us up.
Lighting hands could be a surprise if you no-one told you to expect it.

>>5804483
>>5804461
Don't worry I've already got an idea

Do we still have our glider? Might be useful if she tries to flee again. Or for getting back to our friends quickly

>>5804505
Yeah, you've got it on you. But it could be hard to use if Jaina tries to fuck with you when you are in the air.

>>5804405
>Overwhelm

Oh no you don't. Even with a low roll, you're still not getting free hits in

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Sorry no update tonight, left it too late and I don't want to stay up too late today. Also, I've got an interview on Wednesday, so no update tomorrow either as I will be preparing. Sorry for the delay.

>>5805538
Good luck with the interview!

>>5805606
Thanks mate, not sure if I really even want it, but its always good to look.

This has been bugging me, why were we rescued and the rest of our home planet was left in chains by the Jedi? Was there a specific mission they were on?

>>5807505
Because two jedi can't free a planet [unless they really have too] and we were the toy of a specific hutt, so they probably came to finish off him and saved us in the process.

Our affinity for the force got us noticed, and bing bang boom, Jedi for us.
The existence of systemic evil and their inability to do much about it has always been a damning strike against the Jedi order.

>>5807505
Pretty much this >>5807544 I cant remember if I stated it, but in my head I saw the Jedi on a mission to do a smash and grab of a VIP hostage. The Jedi took you in, and rescued a few others, after securing the hostage. This wasn't a full invasion of a planet in Hutt space as that'd start a war.

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There is a fleck in the corner of your eye and a soft tingle down your spine. A familiar sensation that grows in the back of your head. You can feel familiar presences approaching with considerable speed; you can sense it is Luke, Claire, Vila and Porro; at the rate they are travelling, they are closing in some kind of vehicle. This gives you some confidence, knowing that no matter what is going to happen next, you will have your friends around to help you deal with the situation, and if they were attacked, you wouldn’t be impotently unable to assist due to distance.

No matter what, you can’t allow this fight to drag on; you have no idea what is happening, what The Singularity or Hutts truly have planned. You need to overwhelm her before she tries to escape again, or something worse happens. Throwing your defensive Soresu skill out, you delve into the boundless varied emotions you have inside of you to fuel your aggressive Juyo while mixing in your practised Makashi. Jaina returns a glare at you with steely eyes, but her stance betrays her emotions; she is standing too rigid and cautious. She should not take long to best, that is, if it isn’t some kind of elaborate act.

With a lightning-fast flick of your wrist, your Lightsaber flies from your hand at the head of the Dark Star Acolyte. You see a flash of fear in her eyes, but it comes slowly, as does her reaction. Jaina only half raises her own blade to block the flying slice, catching it by the narrowest of margins. This leaves her out of place to parry your follow-up strike with your Shoto. The small blade slashes at her torso, cleaving through armourweave with an effortless ease, scoring a line of burnt flesh across her belly. If not for her late backstep, you would have bisected the girl. At the same time, your main blade flies back into your waiting, outstretched hand.

Now, not only do her eyes speak of the fear she was trying to hide, but her face is a death mask of panicked dread. The teenage girl stumbles back, and you can read a hesitation in her stance; more than anything she wants to run, but she beats the urge to flee further down the roof of the train. It would provide her with nothing, but a dead end leading to an endless chasm straight to the centre of the gaseous planet. With an overhead slice, you cleave downwards, slamming into her guard. Jaina drops her Lightsaber as she falls to the roof from the unrepentant power. There is now a small slice in the train’s ceiling, and you see the terrified faces of passengers below gazing up at you through the gash.

An ear-rending screech of metal scraping against metal shrieks out behind you. The speeder carrying the other Padawans skids against the durasteel platform sending up a shower of sparks in its wake. You do not look at them, keeping your eyes on your opponent; you will not foolishly cause your own downfall by getting tempted by a simple distraction. Jaina gets to her feet, recovering her Lightsaber with the Force. You unleash another barrage of heavy blows; each one saps her weakening strength, bringing sloth to her movement. And you’ve got it; you read her motion that echoes her slowed, fatigued, tired, panic-stricken mind; you know where her blade is going. With a single light jab of your Lightsaber, you cut through the hilt of her blade, right above her fingers, narrowly missing them. Destroying her Lightsaber in a flash of brilliant orange. The girl looks at you wide-eyed in almost a silent plea, unsure of how to act or what to do with the figure that has dominated and disarmed her.

You see a shadow on the edge of your vision, leaping from an opened window of the train to its roof. Like the arrival of your allies, you don’t allow the disruption to cause you to take your eyes off your foe. But she is disarmed; surely you can spare a single look. Stealing a quick glance forward, all you see is a knee encased in a black battle suit akin to the Sith armour of the Old Republic era. The ceramic knee guard slams into your skull with an incredible speed. Pain explodes around your brain, and you take a drunken stagger back on legs that seem to fight your every effort to keep upright. Falling to your knees, you see a flash of electric purple from an object out of your line of sight.

There are four separate thumps from bodies landing on the train; of course, you do not hear it with your head swimming in a cloud of fog and pain. Luke blocks a downward strike of purple plasma, meaning to end your existence with his Lightsaber of emerald, green brilliance. Gazing up, you see more figures engage the man cloaked in shadow black armour while Jaina scurries away. Then, something confuses you; there is a slight yet powerful jolt that runs through you. But you see no cause, leaving you even more confused in your dazed state. You then notice it: the hovertrain is moving. Stumbling to your unsteady feet, you feel the slow movement rapidly pick up pace, and powerful gales of wind buffet you as if trying to claw you off the vessel.

“Why are we moving?” Shouts Vila, her voice wrestling with the din. “The train should be locked down.”

A tidy explosion cleaves through the head of the train, and two more shadowed figures leap out of the hole. Similar to the man that kneed you, they wear combat armour with a prominent symbol on their chest, it displays a gold diamond with a black four-pointed star contained within. It is the symbol of Dark Star. They are not simple junior Acolytes like Jaina but Listeners or Speakers. The female of the trio ignites a Saberstaff, bringing two red blades to life on either end of the hilt. The other brings his Greatsaber to life, this time with an orange blade.

Porro disengages from the man who slammed into your skull, meeting the woman further up the train. Almost instantly, she blocks one of his strikes and replies with a sharp kick to his face. Truly, his finest hour is only twenty minutes long. Likewise, Luke disengages and faces the man wielding a Greatsaber; neither of them makes a move, waiting for the other to initiate the first strike. This leaves only Claire and Vila fighting the man that brought you to your knees.

Over the screaming wind, you roar into your Commlink to the Master, “We are all on the train. It is heading towards Uuronth city. Three more members of Dark Star have attacked us, likely Listeners; we need immediate support.”

“Rodger,” You hear over the communication device, but you struggle to determine whose words it is over the gale. “We will take the hover train from Garnoth, meeting you at Uuronth station. Just hold on for five minutes.”

Roll three sets of d20s
You assist…
>Luke against the man with the Greatsaber
>Porro against the woman using the Saberstaff
>Claire and Vila against the man who kneed you
>Write-in

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So the ranks of Dark Star are:
Speaker: think Master, named so as they speak for the faith and their flock
Listener: think Jedi Knights, named as they listen and record people's last wishes before sacrificing them for the faith.
Acolyte: think Padawan.

What do you mean I stole it from The Elder Scrolls?

Also I made Dark Star's symbol in paint because Im autistic.

Rolled 18 (1d20)

>>5807696
>Luke against the man with the Greatsaber
>>5807698
I like it. It'll look better with lightsaber burns slashed through it shortly.

Rolled 18 (1d20)

>>5807696
>Luke against the man with the Greatsaber
I don't think we'd coordinate well with Porro. Also is it just me or was Chris pretty fucking brutal against Jaina? He must've looked terrifying.

Rolled 17 (1d20)

>>5807696

>Luke against the man with the Greatsaber

>>5807717
Excellence is terrifying. Excellence with Juyo is dread inducing.

>>5807696
>Help Luke

Porro needs help. Lets help Luke.

Sorry no update tonight, busy day involving a minor car accident, but nothing to worry about.

>>5808522
Any update coming tonight?

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You sprint past Vila and Claire, who are battling the man that sent a flying knee into your skull. The man they are facing is managing to hold them off with a variety of defensive parries, split-second dodges and warding counterattacks. They seem to be locked into a stalemate; your friends are unable to break through his defence, but the man is equally unable to launch any real offensive, leaving the trio in a deadly stalemate of whirling plasma blades. But all it will take is a single slip on either side for the next second to become their very last.

Your sprint turns into Force-assisted horizontal leaps; you fight to travel up the train to stand beside Luke, who is the only Padawan fighting a Listener by themselves. The situation screams alarms into your head: he needs support, if aid isn’t given to your friend, you do not see him surviving against a man with a decade of experience and growth behind him. They both are huge men, but the Dark Star member’s bulk is exaggerated by his imposing midnight armour. Even before the clash of Lightsabers, you would know that both favour the strength-based form of Djem So. While Porro similarly looks like he needs reinforcement, compared to his female opponent, he is weak and sluggish, but his loss is not one you would mourn.

You join Luke, standing next to him on top of the train, and the howling wind screams like a banshee into your ears. The buffeting force of the wind kills your footwork, forcing you to stay grounded in the fear of being thrown away into the planet below. This gives the man you and Luke are facing a sizable advantage. Robbed of your speed and agility, you can not dodge his oversized Lightsaber, forcing you to parry herculean blows that send tremors through your body. Furthermore, the increased blade length of his Greatsaber forces you to stay at distance. Luke and you try to muscle your way into his guard where the size of his Lightsaber becomes his weakness, not his strength, but pounded by the ever-increasing wind, you are unable to advance.

Frustration mounts as you are on the receiving end of titanic yet sloven blows, unable to use your skill to make any real difference. Between one of the series of strikes, you steal a glance at your other allies. Your heart glows with joy seeing them all alive, beating back the wave of darkness and fear. The Listeners you are not fighting seem to be focused on the defence; while you could theoretically see them taking a measured risk to go for a killing strike, none seem to care to take the wager. The only Listener that appears to be hungering for the kill is the mountain of the man you are facing.

A foot of yours slips, brought on by the growing speed of the train and the ever-strengthening storm trying to rip you off the vessel into its embrace. You steady yourself and slice into the roof below your feet while ducking a blow meant to steal your head from your shoulders. Falling through the ceiling of the train, you are greeted by the high-pitched screams of fearful passengers. They flee from you as if repelled by a magnetic force into other carriages. A flash of green and orange paints the train carriage the colours of Lightsabers, and with a loud thump, both Luke and the Listener fall through. You pray that Claire and Vila have also changed the location of their battle. If they stay up top for much longer, they will be grasped by an invisible hand of wind and thrown off the vessel.

Your helmeted opponent attacks Luke with a powerful diagonal slash, which Luke parries, locking both into a bind. Both men use their strength to push the other and exert dominance. They struggle against each other, locked in a battle of pure muscle; surprisingly, the Listener, not Luke, begins to slip backwards from Luke’s staggering power. Then the Dark Star member pulls his head back, and then sends it rocketing forward. The helmet’s forehead slams into Luke’s nose, which explodes into a blast of crimson blood. Luke stumbles back, dazed and in pain, his face is a mask of hurt and horror as the Listener tries to cleave him in two.

The man tries to kill your friend, but you are already there. You catch the blow and deflect it into the floor, carving into the carriage below as Luke falls into a heap. Unbeknownst to you, a confident and nasty smile grows over your face, no longer is this duel one limited by the storm trying to rip you off your feet. Following up with a kick to the back of his knee, you buckle it. He retorts with his long orange blade that slices horizontally, at the height of your stomach, into the seats and screens that cover the interior of the train. Sparks fly from the broken devices as you somersault over the attack. The lights in the cabin die, only to be replaced by red emergency lights that do little in the new darkness.

His follow-up slashes are to ward you off, trying to push you away so he can regain composure and control of the fight. But you will not allow it; his attacks are far too slow. You deflect one attack and lead it away above your head, letting his orange Lightsaber carve into the train, and you move closer to the man inside his guard. Your Shoto glances against his armoured torso, leaving behind a glowing scar, which would have ended him if not for him throwing you back with the Force. It was a quick and hurried move on his part. The Force shoving you back is not of a devastating strength, so you happily land on your feet.

You launch yourself back at the imposing figure, only illuminated by the dull red of the emergency lights and his own orange blade. He slashes at your head, so you drop to your knees and skid towards him under his Lightsaber. Popping to your feet, he tries to strike you with an armoured backhand, but you catch his arm with your Lightsaber as if parrying it. Your Lightsaber cleaves through armour, then flesh, then bone, leaving a glowing stump where an arm was once. Pain and fear explode in the Force, the unguarded emotions of the Listener bare for all to see. Despite the helmet on his head, you can see the sheer unadulterated terror on his face because he knows what is coming, because he knows he can do nothing to stop it. Your Shoto dives into his torso, burrowing a hole into his chest without resistance, as if carving into his battle armour and then his body was the easiest thing it has ever achieved.

The next and final strike removes the Listener’s helmet, and the head inside. It falls to the ground with a clang of metal on metal, and the dead body slumps before you. This is the first person you have killed. Enraptured by your own thoughts, you gaze down at the corpse, studying it, surprised that you feel nothing at his passing. If anything, you feel proud and powerful, exultant in victory; how many beings in this galaxy of trillions could have succeeded where you did? How many Padawans? You didn’t do anything wrong; you have killed a man who was trying to kill yourself and your friend, and you achieved a great thing, there is nothing wrong with being happy with success. There is no reason why you should feel anything akin to sorrow or guilt.

Light spews into the train as the doors to your left open, revealing the scene of the carriage in full. Luke gets to his feet with a shake of his head, trying to rid himself of the daze as blood dribbles from his nose. He looks at the body laying awkwardly, and spots something on the floor. Picking it up, he displays a small purple crystal and then passes it to you. Taking it in hand, you feel the warping energies of the Force swim, locked inside the gem. Then your Commlink chirps; it has been doing so for a while, but you heard nothing in your melee.

“Chris? Luke?” Asks Claire’s voice, high pitch and panicked. “Do you read me? Where are you?”

“Chris here, our Listener is dead. Where are you? Do you need help?”

“No, no, we are fine, the member of Dark Star we were fighting has fled, and so did the one facing Porro. A small starship picked them up just as the train was approaching Uuronth.” That takes you by surprise, there are only a few vessels that can match the speed of these hovertrains in atmosphere. “Look, it was all a trap, the Masters are coming to us, here, on Uuronth station, from another train. But three ships have just entered the planet, on the other side of Ravaath, on Heliux, wearing pirate colours. They have begun deploying raiders which are going after civilians.”

You reply with…
>We should wait for the Masters and travel together
>We should go now to save as many civilians as possible

>>5809806
>We should go now to save as many civilians as possible

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Got no plans this weekend, at least so far, so I hope to get out another update today and two tomorrow but no promises.

>>5809485
Sorry for not updating.

So if I didn't make it clear, Dark Star was trying to split you and the Masters appart, then lead you away from where the real attack is taking place.

>>5809806
>Protect the civilians.

We need to meditate on the act of killing a life. A void of emotions beyond pride is. . . unsettling for a jedi.
But that purple gem, the first listener we met in that tomb used one to unleash purple lightning. It could be useful.

Oh and
>Summon the Listeners saber to you, if we can see where it fell/ feel where it fell.
A practical trophy.

My respect dark star, you have played us well.

>>5809806
>We should go now to save as many civilians as possible

>>5809816
There's a noticable shift in thinking when we fight. Almost similar to a certain sith battle master whose name was inscribed into our face with sith alchemy. Worth looking into.

I'm also secretly into the idea of a more crusader-ish and militant Jedi philosophy during wartime instead of the passivity from the current Jedi Order. That's where I see Chris's character progressing to at this rate.

>>5809822
I'm fine with our Millitancy. Being proactive, headstrong and willful is acceptable, not waiting for the republic to shift it's gears and doing good.

What I am not finding acceptable is untethered love of combat and an unapologetic exultation of our own abilities. This way lies a tunnel vision and hubris that will kill us.

We must be a Jedi, who acknowledges the weight of a death and why it is nessercery. Even if it's only a clinical awareness for now, rather than an emotional one. Allow no slope to become slippery.

>>5809826
Agreed. Chris needs to meditate on this.

What is their objective on Heliux? Another mass sacrifice? That's only a means to gather enough energy to accomplish something huge. What could it be?

My guess is that sacrifices are what they use to make the crystallized force batteries. They need a truly massive one to accomplish their main goal of destroying the force and resetting the galaxy.

>>5809832
Good guess. I have a different theory, that this attack serves multiple purposes.

Political pressure applied by the hutts by forcing the attack, they are already trying to slide their slimy fingers into the illegal scene of this border world which we are trying our damndest to stop. Could open the leadership to talks or propganda

The Singularity gets bodies for cults and bodies for sacrifice.

The dark star gets to benefit from the above, with new acolytes and force crystals. That's the opening theory. Have we seen anything else to contradict or enlighten these three benefits?

Does Chris have any in-character knowledge of Heliux? This is the first time I've seen it mentioned.

>>5809852
Yeah, its one of the half dozen cities floating above the planet, few million residence, there's nothing special about it. I haven't mentioned it before because there was nothing to say about the city.

>>5809863
So any other city could have been targeted, this one just made sense strategically to draw us away from because they don't want Jedi there to interfere with whatever they're doing. Sounds like the only real resource there is the millions of people.

>>5809837
I'm almost certain they're going to do a mass sacrifice of the entire city. With that kind of power they could even harness it to destroy the entire planet.

Sorry no second update today, got wrapped up in the Fury vs Ngannou fight.

>>5809866
I call bullshit on "Destroy a planet with a cities worth of souls"

Sith would have been doing that shit time and again if you needed that few people. Especially if you just import them for the ritual, like say, an invading army.

the climate and atmosphere is almost entirely wrong for a sacrifice, if you recall the dream/vision/memory we had of a man seduced into doing it in an earlier thread.

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“Ok, then we can’t wait.” Time is of the essence; simply delaying for the Masters to arrive will only mean more people are hurt and killed. A desire to save as many people as possible grows within and compels you to make your way with haste. “We need to get there now. Let’s take a train to Heliux. It should get us there in ten minutes.”

Claire responds back, “We can’t take a hovertrain. If we do, one of the warships could destroy the Lightbridge with us on the train. We can’t trust that they won’t shoot us down; we should requisition a speeder. It is our fastest way to Heliux, which won’t result in us falling to the core of the planet.”

“Ok, sounds solid; me and Luke will meet you at the head of the train.”

With your words finished, you slip your Commlink into your cloak and look at Luke, who gives a nod in acquiescence to the plan. You take one last look at the broken body lying before you. There is a forearm missing, lying feet away, and a head which is not attached. As you briefly look at the corpse, your eyes travel to the Greatsaber. The hilt appears to be made of some great creature’s bone, whittled into a comfortable grip with an angular pommel. With the Force, you bring it to your hands and gently grasp the hilt. Knowing that time is passing and there are people that need to be saved, you attach it to your belt. A well-deserved trophy of battle.

You and Luke meet with Claire, Vila and Porro. Assisted by the Force, you race into the lots of parked speeders, stealing one of the vessels despite the owner's protest, and begin your journey to Heliux. Master Adacter tells you over the communicator that they will follow your lead when they arrive on Uuronth. As the speeder travels through the empty air from one city to another, a growing impatience gnaws at you. You are struck with mental images of people hurt and dead whilst you travel on this slow vessel; the whisper of deceitful thoughts of using the hovertrain appear in your mind. They tell you that you could be there right now and that you are spending the lives of the innocent to ensure the safety of your own, but you see the sense in Claire’s words. It just irks you that you are doing nothing right now except waiting.

You are Atuk’Dar, the leader of the Ha’rangir platoon hired by the pirate captain orchestrating this operation. Of course, you know the man is not truly a pirate; he was too crisp with his orders, too authoritative without the typical brutality of a pirate captain, too groomed. You believe he is likely a commodore in the Hutt navy, covertly gifted these ships and using the guise of piracy for deniability. However, you do not care; credits are credits, and the Ha’rangir Collective accepted the contract. All you and your men need to do is take out the police station and barracks in this city while the lesser humanoid raiders capture as many civilians as they can within the hour.

Galloping with your centauriform shape, you and your kin race down streets on your clawed, prehensile serpentine feet. With a roar of triumphant joy, you charge through the streets. You spear a screaming woman with your electroglaive, the force of the blow pulverising the body. That thought that you are made of human DNA revolts you. How can you be crafted from something so weak? Something so alien to you? They have two legs whilst you have four; they stand under two meters while you reach three; you have six cybernetic eyes to their two. Then, you fire with the cannon that is embedded and interwoven in your oversized right arm. A house explodes into a flash of green with shrapnel spewed from the blast.

Combat stimulants are pumped through your body, giving you a reward of a heady rush with each kill you make. The concoctions of potent drugs are hidden within one of the many mechanical cavities concealed inside your flesh. The largest one is the shield generator that has been surgically implanted into your body. An ordinary being would be poisoned by the radiation spewed by the powerful device, but your genecrafted body easily withstands the assault. Your right arm, the one interfused with the artillery piece, is scalded from the heat generated by the weapon but you pay it no mind. It is something you have grown used to over the three years of your life and the potent cocktail of stims flooding your system dulls the worst of it.

A mechanical receiver within your skull, attached to your brain like a foreign parasite, relays the information that the half of your squad you are not travelling with has destroyed the local law enforcement station and killed all inside. They want to meet up with you and revel in the slaughter, but their part of the mission is done, and you order them to return to your custom dropship and wait for your arrival. Arriving at the barrack, you and the twelve kin are greeted with a peppering of small pinpricks of light from fired blasters, but they are harmlessly swallowed by the protective shield that encases you. A series of powerful blasts are loosed by you and your kin from the cannons in your arms, pummelling and demolishing the building. You race around the structure, hunting for any survivors from the repeated bombardment.

Your task is done, and while there is the hunger within you to continue your prowl for prey, your work is complete. Galloping past burning structures, you grin with your oversized bloody maw, they are the ones you lit alight. You return back to your personalised dropship and board it; most humanoid vessels struggle to fit the bulk of your species, let alone twenty-four of them. Peering into a holoscreen as your ship takes off, you watch as the lesser raiders corral thousands of citizens into the open jaws of the parked slaver ships, which then ferry those new slaves into the massive hovering hauler. You already miss the bloodshed as your dropship docks with one of the pair of pirate cruisers that stands guard over the floating hauler.

For the last thirty minutes, you and the rest of the Padawans, and Porro, have been battling street to street against the alien pirates. They are of many different races, Iridonian, Gamorrean, Klatooinian, and Vodran, but they all fall the same way. You drive them back from their invasion of the streets of Heliux, killing many in your wake. The untrained and disorderly troops are unable to counter the five Jedi working as one, continually being pushed back. Furthermore, the Republic special forces and their gunships have been making similar work of the pirates, finding no stiff resistance, as have the Masters that have just arrived in the city.

The pirates’ defiance wanes and breaks, fleeing from you on mass, retreating to their slaver ships, most likely as a whole, they have completed their task. Each vessel carries hundreds of civilians cramped in tight cargo holds slick with new blood from fresh wounds. Like a swarm of flies, they leave Heliux, returning to the large cargo hauler from which they initially disembarked. Passing down a street, you spot a single Klatooinian hurriedly trying to open the docking hatch leading into a stationary slaver ship. Claire grabs him with an invisible Force grip and throws his body into a house, leaving him lying limp and bloody on the floor.

Thankful of this boon, you race towards the slaver ship and enter the vessel. Through the Force, you feel no other lifeforms on the vessel apart from your allies. The crew must have been the last band of raiders you fought. Racing to the bridge, you slip into the empty captain’s seat and activate the ship. It hums to life with an old, unwelcoming grumble. Porro and Claire join you in the cockpit while Luke and Vila search the vessel for any hiding beings. The ship lifts off the ground, and you pilot it upwards into the sky, towards the bulk hauler with a warship by either side. The stream of traffic entering the hauler is gone, and only the last of the slaver ships race into the closing cargo bay. One of the cruisers separates from the trio in its own journey, while the remaining cruiser and the large hauler begin to turn away from the planet.

You pilot the slave ship into…
>the hauler containing the captured civilians
>the solitary cruiser and claim an issue stopping you from docking with the hauler

Probably should have been split into multiple updates but we are on page 9 and I want to finish the thread before it gets archived.

>>5811032
>the hauler containing the captured civilians

>>5811032
the rest of the team will take the ship to
>the hauler containing the captured civilians
while we stealthily detach and use our glider to board the solitary cruiser. they're up to something

Actually I'm not sure I understand the implications of this vote, can you elaborate?

>>5811045
The hauler and one of the cruisers looks to be leaving the planet, the separated cruiser is moving away from the other two ships but not out of atmosphere. You can pilot the slaver ship you are on to one of the vessels.

>>5811041
If this is actually possible, I’ll support it. Otherwise, go for the hauler with the captured civilians.

>>5811041
>If possible, support. If not, dock with the civillians.
>In either case, Report it to the Special forces/masters

Hi guys, I dont think you can use your glider to cover the distance between two ships travelling away from one another in time. You just wouldnt be fast enough, but good idea and thanks for thinking outside the box.

>>5811393
Fair enough

>>5811393
Welp.

Just inform the republic commandos/masters about it, then save the people.

Ultimately when forced to choose between preserving innocence and destroying evil, you must choose preservation

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Your eyes track the warship flying off through the sky of Ravaath, knowing that whatever their objective is, it will not be one of good. If you could split up your party and somehow board both the hauler carrying the thousands of captured civilians imprisoned by the raiders and the warship, you would, but you cannot. There is only one ship at your disposal, and your glider can not reach the speeds required. You are forced to gnash your teeth as the singular vessel flies out of your sight as you approach the plain and uninteresting hauler. The hangar bay has five rows, all stacked with parked slaver ships, all the same class of vessel just copied and repeated. Slowly, the shutters slide down, covering the rows until only the final level is visible from the exterior. You slide the ship through the tightening gap with inches to spare while holding a bated breath, praying all the while that the sliding doors will not crush you.

The small ships haphazardly cover the deck, there is no free space for you to land on because of the unordered parking, so you think like a pirate. With the ship you are piloting, you ram another parked vessel, pushing it away, giving you the needed space to land. After the action, you then think of the poor people trapped inside and cringe in a guilty wince. Rationalising it to yourself, the excuse that you are saving them appears in your head but does little to dissuade your guilt. Whatever, it is done, you need to focus on your next move. Trying to save these people before this ship warps back into Hutt space.

You and your comrades meet in the main hold; you and the rest of the Jedi stand around the central table looking at each other. The echo from the buzz of combat still flows through your bodies, making all slightly twitchy. Claire places down a communicator in the centre of the table, on the other end of the call are the three Jedi Masters still planet side. What remains of the local security forces on Heliux are mopping up some of the stragglers left behind by their compatriots while the rest of the cities have their troops on high alert. The Republic commandos are in their dropships, trailing the solitary cruiser flying through the atmosphere of Ravaath from a distance due to the mounted laser cannons that would swat them out of the sky like a gnat.

Master Jalen’s voice is projected out of the device sitting on the desk, loud and crisp for all to hear and understand. “Well done Master Porro and Padawans, for making it aboard when we couldn’t. It is clear that the hauler and the cruiser accompanying it are moving to leave the system. As soon as the ships jump, they will be in Hutt space, and we will not be able to cross that border without sparking an incident, if not a war. Furthermore, the Hutts reject the notion that it is their men and their ships that have done this act. This is something we will investigate later, but now our top priority is to stop the vessel you are on.”

Luke then speaks in a voice both tired and quizzical, “How should we go about that?”

“Stop the vessel by taking out the engines or bridge. Try to move unseen; there will be thousands of troops aboard, and you do not want to alert them. They will swarm you with numbers if you keep stationary, and at the very least, they will delay you if you get stuck in a brawl.” Answers Master Adacter in his unflappable posh accent.

“Sure,” You chine in and add your own idea. “What if we split up? Half of us go to the bridge, and the other half goes to the engine room. If one group fails or is delayed, that still gives us the chance to stop the ship before we enter the Hutt empire.”

“Good idea,” A faceless voice of Master Ravel echoes from the device. “But make sure you try to blend in with the raiders. We don’t want them to know anything is wrong until the ship stops dead.”

“Do we have any support coming?” Asks Vila as her hands nervously fiddle with her robe’s trim. “And what are we doing with the lone cruiser?”

“I can’t think of much any of us can do to a warship of that size,” Chimes in Luke.

“Indeed,” Answers a new voice, one you have never heard before. “But we have the rapid reaction component of the sector’s navy on their way now. If the ship doesn’t begin to leave the planet with haste, I believe we can catch it with its knickers down.”

“That was Commander Eeekt with the Republic commandos.” Sighs Master Jalen. “In the meantime, there is not much we can do here. We can’t join you on the ship, and I see no way to take down a shielded cruiser. If you have any suggestions, please go ahead. I have no idea what we could do to help.”

There is a moment of dead air in which nothing is said, but all think, and then Master Adacter breaks the silence with his words. “Nothing? Ok then, I think Chris and Master Porro should be one team, and Claire, Vila and Luke should be the second group as you go for different generators. I think it makes sense.”

A grunt of acknowledgement comes from Commander Eeekt, but you aren’t entirely sure of the origin. Whilst you don’t like the idea of being with your… senior, it is something you have managed to avoid for the majority of the past two years, it does make sense in terms of combat capability. Not that it would be ideal for fighting to break out, at the very least, before the ship is halted. Your eyes quickly flit towards the middle-aged Jedi, not that he is particularly deserving of the title, and scowl at the sight of the wretched being.

You…
>Go with Porro to the engine room and try to sabotage it, leaving the bridge for the other Padawans
>Go with Porro to the bridge room and take control, leaving the engine for the other Padawans
>Other(Write-in)

>>5811790
>Accept and head for the bridge

We can disable the bridge if we find the right wiring.

>>5811790
>Go with Porro to the bridge room and take control, leaving the engine for the other Padawans

I also want to prioritize getting solid evidence that ties this to the Hutts and Dark Star

Sorry no update today.

Started writing, but not close to finishing the update, will finish tomorrow.

>>5811790
>Go with Porro to the engine room and try to sabotage it, leaving the bridge for the other Padawans

This thread is getting close to being archived, not enjoying the time limit. test

>>5814326
there's a decent amount of threads that would have to die before ours will

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>>5814333
Yeah, should the final update out today. I have had to cut quite a few idea out of this thread because of time and I guess poor planning.

>>5814345
My only advice would be to be more flexible and worry less about having each thread having a satisfying end point for the arc. It can continue between threads. It did feel like this thread covered a lot of stuff with relatively lower player input than previous threads

>>5814356
Yeah, I get you. I will be less autistic about sorting the quest into threads next time. This thread hasn't been the best.

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You and Porro will go to the bridge; likely, it will be a harder task than storming the engines, which should be populated with only engineers and technicians. Despite the lack of local resistance, as soon as the alarm is raised, which will undoubtedly happen at some point, the raiders will swarm to the location with all their strength. The numbers will no doubt be overwhelming; the thousands that took part in the ground assault will overrun the area. Having some explosives would have made this task much more straightforward; all you would need to do is plant them on the hyperdrive and then disappear into the ship while the vessel is stuck in the solar system, waiting for the sector defence fleet to appear.

“Me and Porro will take the bridge; you guys try to knock out the hyperdrive. But whatever you do, make sure not to get in a place where you can get cornered. If they find us and trap us, they will drown us under the weight of their numbers.” One by one, you look into your friends’ eyes and give them slight nods, and in them, you see a steely determination, undaunted by the risk. You are proud to call them your friends.

“Meet you on the other side,” Luke smiles to you, brimming with confidence, at least overtly that’s the demeanour he radiates. “The team that stops the ship first gets free drinks for a year.”

Luke and you clasp each other’s right arm and give a friendly squeeze, then you reply, “You are on.”

The team of Padawans exit first; the last you see of them is Claire, who lingers by the open hatch; she gazes into your eyes. You think she is going to say something, but the words never materialise, and she slips away out of sight. You and Porro slink out of the opened ships’ door, entering a grand hangar filled with countless ships all the same class as the one you piloted into the hauler. The number of vessels that are densely packed together makes escaping the hangar relatively easy. All you need to do is crouch and hug yourself against the parked ships. Many mercenaries still linger in the hangar, talking to others about their days haul. There are enough of them that going proverbially guns blazing is unfeasible.

As soon as you exit the hangar, you and Porro stand up straight, tall, and proud. Giving off the air that not only are you meant to be here, but you hold authority over the lesser crewmembers. None of the unkempt pirates you pass initiates conversation or asks questions of who you are or why you are here. It is so easy that you struggle to suppress a smile. Passing through the labyrinthine corridors of dirty grey steel marred with countless scuffs and scrapes, you find no issue. Then your Commlink chimes, you bring it to your ear, in turn Porro shoots you an unpleasant disapproving look.

“This is Vila,” An out-of-breath voice speaks over the device. “One of the scumbags tried to harass us, and it basically escalated into a fight. They now know we are Jedi and are trying to hunt us. We are unable to continue, but we will make ourselves into a distraction drawing them to us, should give you an easier time. We won’t be able to answer any further communications. May the Force be with you, over and out.”

As if to emphasise the message, speakers blare out the words of the ship’s captain, who then speaks of intruders in the tertiary starboard crew quarters, saying that there are Jedi aboard. As you continue your approach to the cockpit, more updates from the captain inform you of the changing locations of the group of three Padawans. It does bring a smile to your face hearing the frustration over the speakers, knowing your friends are doing an excellent job leading the slavers on a wild goose chase. You make it to the exterior of the bridge; four guards stand stationary outside. Compared to the rest of the crew, there is an aura of professionalism about them, enunciated by their incredibly straight posture and cold detachment in their eyes.

You wave your hand and simply say, “They are expecting us inside. Please open the door for me.”

Entering the bridge, you have no idea what is happening within the atmosphere of Ravaath. The golden cruiser glints in the sun’s rays as it stops above the capital, standing silent, without movement, peering down. Then it fires. A stream of turbolaser blasts rain from the guns mounted on the vessel, pouring down on the capital city below. The bombardment of powerful explosions sends earthquakes through the gargantuan floating structure, wobbling it like a tired spinning top. Mothers cling to newborns, while fathers attempt to comfort their sons and daughters, but it is for nought; the poorly veiled terror in their cadence spills out to their loved ones, raising their panic to newer greater heights. The brilliant green laser blasts carve through the city, gnawing into the structure, carving an ever-deepening craters.

Eyes turn to face you and Porro as the bulkhead doors seal behind you. Confusion is written over the faces of the command staff at this new arrival. One crewmember realises some of what is happening and bolts out of his seat. The man charges at you, and with a simple push of your hand, the man goes flying back and strikes a console, slumping to the floor without any further dissent. Porro activates his Lightsaber, and you mirror his action with your main blade, keeping both your Shoto and the Greatsaber, you collected as part of your spoils of war, disabled and hanging from your belt. The cowardly crew shrinks at the humming blades; only the captain and two senior officers seem to have any resistance. They loose off a burst of blaster bolts, but you and Porro return them to sender, leaving three charred corpses smoking on the floor.

The staff around the room cowers and cringes behind their command thrones, peering over the edge at the invaders; in the loudest and most authoritative voice you are able to conjure, you boom out, “Halt this ship now, or I will carve a window through the viewport and throw each and every one of you out of it. Do not make me kill more of you.”

Through the viewport, the growing darkness of space halts as the vessel stops, sitting still in the upper atmosphere, totally motionless. With a quick bark, you order all the bridge staff away from their command consoles and to the side of the bridge. Fear is etched into their features, most expecting a summary execution. One man begins to squeak out a plea for his life, but you shut him up with another growl. You then begin to collect everyone’s communication devices and then stomp them into the ground. Meanwhile, Porro stands there aimlessly and without purpose, just grasping his Lightsaber as he watches you take command.

A voice without form then speaks, “This is Captain Rameus of The Storm Before The Calm. Why have you halted?”

Without pause, you slide into the captain's command throne and click to open a channel to the ship hailing you, “We are experiencing powerplant issues. Our propulsion is dead. We are unable to move.”

There is a hesitation in which the formless captain doesn’t reply. When the pause elapses, he speaks again, but this time, when communicating over the channel, there is a wariness in his cadence, “Have the Jedi on board been dealt with? Repeat to me the command codeword within ten seconds to notify me that you are still in control of your own ship.”

Turning your eyes to the crew, they squirm under your gaze. You demand the codeword from them, but all they greet you is with their panic-stricken faces. They tell you the only two men who knew the codeword are the now-dead captain and first officer, the ones who attacked you when entering the bridge. Your mind races, trying to think your way out of this. There is no way you can use a mind trick on someone so far away, that you can’t even see. The only thing that comes to mind is muffling your message; you have no real hope for the approach, but there is a fool’s hope that hangs by a sliver.

Your hands rest on the console, altering the sent transmission waves to add a garbled effect, corrupting your words with static, making the final word totally unintelligible to the captain of the warship that sits beside you. “The code word is Idontfuckingknow.”

Nothing happens. You wait for a response as seconds tick away, and then you get one. A brilliant emerald explosion pounds into the starboard side of the hull, boring into the guts of the starship. It is followed by another and another, shredding the ship with an effortless ease. Cavernous entry holes riddle the vessel, each circled by glowing superheated metal. And as soon as the barrage starts, it stops, and The Storm Before The Calm continues its journey out of the system, leaving you and the hauler behind. Plumes of black smoke pour from the wounds, and the vessel begins to dip and sink in the air, falling down into the nothingness below, with the dying vestiges of life slightly slowing the descent.

Emergency red lights replace the lamps that once bathed the ship in light, and warning claxons scream at the fatal wounds. Your Commlink chimes, then speaks in Claire’s voice, “Chris, what is happening? What’s going on?”

“We’ve been fired on by the escorting warship, we are falling. Are you close to the hangar? Can you get the civilians out of the slaver ships?”

“No, we are on the other side of the hauler,” Claire's words run fast, and the fear is plain and unhidden, struggling to not breakdown and hyperventilate from being stuck in the sinking vessel.

In a calm and composed voice, something you certainly don’t feel as your racing heart pounds in your chest, you speak to her, trying to soothe the teenage girl. “Ok, that’s fine, Claire. Can you see an escape pod near you? Or a ship map displaying your location?”

“There are a few down the corridor.”

“Excellent, you take Luke and Vila and board one. That’s all you need to do.”

“Ok, Ok,” Claire repeats, trying to centre herself. “What about you?”

“Take off, and we will join you soon; me and Porro will try to save the prisoners and meet you on Heliux. I have to go now.”

You pocket the device and see the last of the command staff flee the opened bulkhead door with Porro hovering by the entrance, watching you with wide, panicked eyes. He stands on the balls of his heels, ready to turn and run, you see in his face that he is unsure if he would wait for you any longer. Turning to join him, you sprint out of the bridge, assisted by your mastery of the Force. Throughout the ship, the raiders race into escape pods and jettison, fleeing the dying vessel. From the outside, you would be able to see a stream of little spheres thrown from the disintegrating hulk, powered by bright blue exhausts from the burning thrusters.

Catching up with Porro, you pass through dimly illuminated corridors as you make your way to the hangar. You need to save these people, you won’t allow the Hutts to enslave them like they did your people or kill them in a petty act of vengeance. There are thousands of innocent beings dammed to death by the Hutts and The Singularity, and only you and Porro can help them escape the burning vessel. Coming to a T-junction, Porro turns the wrong way to the hangars. Skidding on your feet, you come to a stop as Porro is about to open a door leading to one of the main escape pod racks. Your eyes narrow, and your brow furrows; what is that man doing?

“Porro, wrong way.” You bark out over the sirens, not sparing more words than needed.

Your “Master” turns around, his face distorted by a terrible fear. “I’m getting out of here, you fool. If you want, you can die here, so be it. I don’t care.”

“What about all the innocents that are stuck in the cargo of the slaver ships? You want to leave them as well?”

“Yes!” He shouts out emphatically, “Yes, I do not care about them, I don’t care about you. I want to live, I don’t give a shit about all of them. I am getting out of here no matter what.”

Your face becomes a scowl of disgust. Is this cowardly man really saying what you think he is? Reaching out with a tendril of the Force, you crush the internals of the control panel of the door behind Porro, the one he wishes to flee through. You are not allowing his cowardice to forsake those in need. Your voice becomes a violent hiss of unconcealed hate, that somehow is discernible over the chorus of wailing sirens and the ship ripping itself apart. “Think, really think for a moment. I get you might be scared. But there are tens or hundreds of thousands onboard. We have to save them, or at least attempt it. Come on, let’s go.”

Porro spits out with a hateful glare punctuating his evil, unJedi-like words, “Fuck you, fuck those people and fuck the Jedi. You fucking know what? You are going to die here, and I am so fucking glad about it.”

He repeats those words, again.
The growing pyre of fury inside you explodes into a conflagration.
Your face warps into a bestial snarl.
A metallic scream of a great dying beast roars down the corridor with such force you can see the surrounding walls buckle and tear. Bright blue-white sparks spew out in fountains from the shredded wires exposed by the fresh perforations in the plasteel walls. Sirens, hoarse from repeated warnings of the vicious wounds the ship has sustained, continue to cry out that the death of the ancient vessel is not only inevitable but imminent.

His face is painted a demonic red by the emergency lights. Horror etched along every contour and deep crease. Eyes wild like a rabid viper-hound, scanning, searching for something, anything to escape this collapsing tomb. Fingers pound and dumbly slap at the door controls, the ones that would allow the pair of you to flee the burning hulk, the very one you reached out to, through the force, and crushed.

Words are said. They are directed at you. But you can not hear them; you hear the sound, but the meaning is lost as your rage steals everything but the echo of his last repeated orders. Your eyes do not leave him; they are not yours to control, they are possessed by the fusion core of glowing anger imprisoned inside you.

In his panic and terror, he reaches to his belt, hands fumbling, and draws something. Shouting even louder than before, trying to overpower the death rattle of the disintegrating vessel, he half pleads and half demands. Finally, he manages to momentarily cleanse himself of fear, spitting out an old insult dripping with a new hateful venom. And a bar of bright blue plasma is birthed from his hand.

The dream passes; it was a familiar one, like an old memory fogged by the passage of time brought forth by a scent or an object. Before you lies the body of a dead Evocii. In a fugue state, you reach for his Lightsaber lying on the floor, picking it up and attaching it to your belt. And you run, you sprint through the corridors, down passages toward the ship's multilayered docking bay. Slamming clumsy fingers against the control panel, causing the massive shutters to open, allowing the howl of wind to add to the screaming cacophony.

Ravaath’s capital can take no more; one piercing shot buries into the heart of the floating city, striking the final operational gravity generator. Like the hauler, it sinks through the sky, down and down into the hardening depth of the gas giant. The only difference is this technological wonder carries millions. It is consumed by swirling clouds of raging storms that rip at the falling behemoth of metal. The warship, Woehammer, turns around to face the way it came, its mission finally complete. It took way too long; the time it took to kill the city eclipsed the estimate by a wide margin, and the crew is fraught with nerves about an incoming reprisal.

Just as Woehammer begins to rise, a dozen realspace reversions flash above. Two star destroyer class warships, War and Peace, lead the sector’s rapid reaction component of their navy. In an instant, the fleet fires, a mad bombardment of hateful vengeance strikes the Woehammer, subsuming the vessel in a hail of turbolaser fire. The Woehammer’s shields evaporate in an instant, the prismatic flash eclipsed by streaming blows of the turbolasers and the pummelling explosions of the concussion missiles. Then, an almighty explosion rips the Woehammer apart as it is cored by the scything penetrations.

You race to the nearest parked slaver ship and slam against the cargo hold controls, opening it up to be greeted face to face by visages warped with fear. “If any of you can pilot this ship, take the controls now. You, you, you and you, run to different ships, help them like I have done with you. Get four more of them to go to other vessels and save those ones like you did their ship. Create a cycle so we can get everyone out of here. Don’t be cowardly selfish cunts.”

The four men you pointed at are slow to leave the vessel, hoping that they could escape with this ship, but you do not allow them. You grab one of the men and throw him out of the vessel. The other men follow suit without any more of your time wasted on convincing these cowards. To your question of if anyone can pilot the ship, a half dozen people stumble out of the cargo hold into the main body of the slaver ship. You seal the rest of the civilians back into the cargo hold, the ship is unable to store as many people as the pen that already holds them, this is the quickest way.

Praying that your idea works, you race down a level and repeat the process again. While doing so, you see the first of the slaver ships fly out of the topmost hangar. You don’t have time to rejoice or even think about it; your mind is consumed with saving the rest of the would-be slaves. Time seems to pass in a blur, and more ships flee from the dying behemoth. Finally, you are on the last of the five levels, watching the vessels scramble from the dock into the freedom of the planet. You run into one of the last parked vessels, seeing through the viewscreen the last figures of people entering the final few ships and preparing them for take-off.

The ship comes to life with the hum of the powerplant, and you start the thrusters, which roar with energy. With a push of a button and a pull of the control yoke, the ship you are on leaves the floor and then races out the hanger into the sky, no longer a prisoner of the plummeting death machine. You fly up, out of the cloud layer into the open sky and toward Heliux. You are unsure how many lives you saved and how effective your plan was, but you did your best to save those thousands of beings that were falling towards the core of the planet. Something feels wrong, and you change your position on your seat. Looking to see what it is that disturbs you; your eyes lock with a Lightsaber hilt. His Lightsaber hilt. Did you really do it? Did you kill him? You do remember him igniting his blade first, did he attack you? You can’t fully remember, but you do remember your repugnance of his utter cowardice, how he would have done nothing to save those thousands trapped up.

IMPORTANT CHOICE THAT WILL TAKE THE QUEST IN VERY DIFFERENT DIRECTIONS
You feel…
>Horror with your actions, even if he attacked you, he was your Master, you do not trust your feelings anymore. Going forth you will become a stoic, dogmatic Jedi, rejecting and fighting your emotions. The quest will skip to the future where the Hutts/Dark Star invade the Republic
>A calm acceptance, he attacked you, you think, and it isn’t like anyone in the galaxy will miss someone like him. You trust yourself, you did nothing wrong. It was just self-defence Going forth, you will strive for good and justice, focusing on creating a better Galaxy no matter the Jedi Orders commands. The quest will have Chris build up a group/power structure in the shadows, similar to Darth Plagueis but not evil, for the goal of freeing his people and all enslaved by the Hutts and those corrupted by The Singularity

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Well that was a long update. So the thread is over finally. As is this intro arc. Sorry if that came off rather railroady, it was something I tried to foreshadow in the very first post of the quest and also the first post in this thread.

Anyway next thread will likely be Feburary.
Ive got a lot of things going on, I'm buying a house, training for a fight was talking about UFC 294 with a friend and he thought he could beat me in a fight, so I challenged him. Also I want a break, might dabble with a one shot at some point.

Also I want to change the name of the thread. Stellar Turmoil is a shit name I chose in a rush as I wanted to start the quest before May 4th. Depending on the choice here I will rename the quest:
Star Wars: Total War Quest
Star Wars: Strings in The Shadow Quest

Anyway let me know what you want in the future, which characters you like, which you want to see more of. What you'd like for me to do as the QM. And all of that jazz.

Finally, I would like to say thanks for sticking with me and being awesome anons. You guys really give me the energy to continue.

>>5814614
>A calm acceptance, he attacked you, you think, and it isn’t like anyone in the galaxy will miss someone like him. You trust yourself, you did nothing wrong. It was just self-defence
It's time for the Jedi Lords to appear again.

>>5814614
>A calm acceptance, he attacked you, you think, and it isn’t like anyone in the galaxy will miss someone like him. You trust yourself, you did nothing wrong. It was just self-defence

>>5814637
No problem. This quest is a good one, I’d be glad to see it continue.

As for the name, Total war sounds better than Strings in the shadow. I’d like to see more votes of the moral sort, y’a know? Sort of like the we’re doing now, the kind that will shale the views of the MC.

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Also surprised you guys weren't interested in either Claire or Alyla.

>>5814646
>As for the name, Total war sounds better than Strings in the shadow.
Assuming everything goes to plan, I was thinking for this path you are voting on; the next arc will be called Strings in The Shadow. Then the next and final arc will be called something like Total War. But if you want, I can just call it Total War going forth for the rest of the quest.
> I’d like to see more votes of the moral sort, y’a know? Sort of like the we’re doing now, the kind that will shale the views of the MC.
Sure you got it.

>>5814653
That sounds good, also typo in my last post, lmao “shape” the views of the MC.

>>5814614
>A calm acceptance, he attacked you, you think, and it isn’t like anyone in the galaxy will miss someone like him. You trust yourself, you did nothing wrong. It was just self-defence
Good stuff Stumbling, thanks for running. Looking forward to February!
>>5814653
It's less a lack of interest and more following a particular version of the Jedi code. Possibly subject to change.

>>5814614
>A calm acceptance.
Goodbye Porro. Now you don't need to fear anything anymore.

>>5814653
Don't mistake self discipline for lack of interest. We are padawans, were a padawan, and needed to regulate ourselves. Give it time and I think Claire could be a genuine romance, if we can get past Luke's infatuation. Which I dont wanna hurt the guy, but seems like that ship has sailed.

>>5814783
As an aside, when I said we need to meditate on the first man we killed later.
This was not what I had in mind.

But anyway, we are still Jedi. We may be prideful, arrogant and immensely disdainful of cowards but we arent murderers. Igniting his saber is like pointing a gun at someone, intent to use it.

As I type this out, I have the sinking feeling that I am rationalising. We do need to get a grip on these worse impulses, the pride and the seething hate thst sometimes springs up.
Interrogate our memories.

>>5814855
>As I type this out, I have the sinking feeling that I am rationalising
The way I see it is we kinda cornered him, and then he threatened Chris with deadly force or actually attacked him. But I think it makes sense for us to really meditate on this next thread. At the very least it wasnt murder.

>>5814614
>A calm acceptance, he attacked you, you think, and it isn’t like anyone in the galaxy will miss someone like him. You trust yourself, you did nothing wrong. It was just self-defence