Hundreds of aggile little fighters stormed the planets surfice, and 10 armored transports landed, despelling troops onto the green surfice...

5 or so larger bomber class ships then invaded the atmosphere, seeking to level all resistances that appeared...

Alcron smiled within his champers, watching as green gave way to the red of fires, he laughed, a small tenticle of silver seeking out and taking hold of a glass of wine, bringing it to his lips he sipped, laughing every now and again.

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

he then opened a comm "Now, begin work of building a base of operations... I want it dead in the center of the main wookie city... A vast spire, which will reach up into the skies, and cast its commanding shadows upon the enslaved beasts... And inform the science team i want phase two of silvitesh experiments ready for after the tower is made..."

He laughed to himself,looking down to admire a solid silver ball which he held firmly in his hand, and then smiling yet more brightly as that ball changed into a dagger on his mental command...

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

"mmm... Is it possible to recreate this wonderful substance? or can it only be done once? All other batches destroy themselves... Strange...very strange..."

He smiled at a sudden realization... If he could not recreate the substance, then no one else in the universe could succeed in copying his brillent creation...
He focused his quicksilver gaze upon the green planet once more, smiling in delight, seeing things which mortal eyes could never dream off...

Slowly his gaze turned to a small map upon a data pad, his finger reached slowly to press upon the planet Kashyyyk, turning it from its normal blue, to a deathly silver...

He then opened a comm... "send 1/3 our forces to Ord Mantal...Claim that planet next... And also another 1/3 shall be sent to tattooin, i want both planets under our control as soon as possible..."

WIth that he turned to a plate of food which had been set before him, and slowly began eating, using utensils made of the purest silver...

As he did so, a portion of his fleet flew off, splitting again and heading into hyperspace to go about claiming two more planets...

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

Soon tattooin would be his... Or at least... It would not be in a position to fight back...

His lips parted to realise a little chuckle, eyes dartign here and there to view the shadow's, which he was sure were holding things from him... Secrets... So many secrets...

The plateing of his armor droped suddenly in an action percieved as a shrug, his lungs expanding with the sudden intake of oxygen, which was retorted instantly with a squeezing of his chest muscles to expell the air...

his lips curled, the action symbolizing so little... happieness did not exist... Nothing did... Emotion?

The whirling cloud of mental compossur that made up alcrons concious expanded in mocking laughter of the thought... Feeling's did not exist... no no... once they had... But he now knew, that had simply been an illusion his previously simplistic mind had made to keep mortality thriving... But no longer.

The shadow's and light of the room shifted about him as his muscles contracted and expanded, rising him to a standing position... Once more his lungs expanded greatly, before in the calm light of his room, his shadow shifted and he soon found himself traversing the walkway's of his ship to find... Something...

As that which was alcron came about a small corner, he paused, the hidden quick-silver orbs which were his sight darting into the depths of a shadow, his churning conciousness coming the bare about seemingly random nonsense her and there...

He whom he had attempted contact, Held power. Tattooin was within someone elses grasp, Attention would come, the Time of revealing ones pressence is merly a wisp of shadows from all things...

The curling of his lips almost serprised him, but the shadow's revealed to him there secrets... Yes... Perhaps this could be used as an advantage... An alliance? or perhaps simply a plea of peace, something with churn about this moment...

with a slight twist of perspective his eyes went wide beneath the hidden realms of demonic shadow his hood provided...

The one known as shayla... Could she twine the threads of fate upon her fingers? could she weave knowldge where only shadow lived before?

Ah a wicked loom time is... with threads that can only be viewed by a select few... She must be stoped... How?

his cape billowed softly behind him as he avoided a segment of time that seemed most unpleasant...

there was a slight tapping noise as metal played upon the console of his ship, his gauntleted fingers twisting and expanding... Contracting and churning, moving accross to send a message through all of space, the technology of this wonderful point of existance lessoning the time it took to send such a thing, to but a fraction of a second...

And so his message read. "All bounty hunters, fortune seekers, Those down on luck... Traverse the boundries of space, find the one called Shayla Petrolu, and bring her to this location" Attached to the message was an image taken from one of the many camera's about alcrons ship, and also the location of alcrons main ship.

His lips again curled upon themselves. "And so i have added another thread to this loom. My tapestry shall be the grandest of them all..."

A rapid burst of air escaped from his lungs as they contracted and expanded in a marvelus display of laughter, and again his form traversed through space and time.

[ 12-08-2002 01:48 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Lord_Alcron ]

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

There was none...

Lo-Ban knew why, he quickly rose to his feet and found himself surrounded by rubble and debris...

His home was no more, only the 3 by 3 section where Lo-Ban sat in deep meditation was untouched...

He led himself through the dense debris, toward his personal hanger...

Destroyed as well...

He shut his eyes, his lips curled...

The rubble started to shake, but would not budge more than an inch...

From his pocket, a small metallic object emerged... with the push of a button rubble was forced in all directions, as a large bay door erupted from beneath...

With the planet near destruction, Lo-Ban climbed down into his small escape shuttle...

Quickly through the Tatooine atmosphere, he entered hyperspace...

Lo-Ban gave a brief afterthought toward his once home... while at the back of his mind, wondering where he was heading... and who might be looking for him...

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

Suddenly it opened...

The boy smiled behind him and waved happily toward the Master in a show of goodbye and was on his way, running down the path. He was happy to be back on his planet, but even happier that he was in the arms of freedom. Soon he'd be gone though, he'd have to say goodbye to those that he left behind so long ago.

Rushing into the store that he once worked at he was going to ask for a favor from the man, but before he entered he heard the sound of rumbling in their. Someone was talking to themselves, and the young boy could feel it was one of anger by the tone. Rushing in, he stared up at the tall, slender man.

The man quickly turned his head over to the young boy. The man's face was old and ruggid, filled with scars of age.

"Oh!! Is it really you...Jamel! Is it?" The man's face slowly light up as he heard the answer and the two went through the request information of the boy.

Jamel getting as he asked and fixing a few things within in the shop during their conversation he was off the planet, going from the yard of the Tattonie store. Leaving into space, he gave his goodbye with gesture of his hand and was gone again.

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

But it was not here in Mos Espa; at least not yet. As soon as Shawn landed and cooled the systems of the freighter he turned and popped the hatch, standing. About this time, however, Jamel ran past him and turned only momentarily to wave goodbye; in an instant, he was gone into the crowds of the strangely busy docking area, and Shawn did not know the boy well enough to track his Force-signature in the crowd. Still, he tried; stepping out into the bustling docking bay he reached out with the Force...

...and was nailed even more squarely with the death and destruction that loomed over the planet like a predator in the night. For a long moment Shawn couldn't even move to even try to track Jamel; with great sorrow he realized that the boy was probably lost to him and perhaps would be lost to something great and terrible that he didn't even yet know of.

Realizing this, Shawn thought of another on planet who might be suffering the same fate; greatly troubled, he reached out for Loban's Force-signature, also noting with even more despair how many less live-forces he had to sense through to find that the young man was in fact not on the planet. Thankful for at least this, Shawn continued to stretch out with the Force, seeking understanding, seeking guidance.

Who or what had hit Tatooine so suddenly and so devestatingly? For even now, the devestation was spreading...

Perhaps it was the Empire, but this made little sense; the Empire already had begun taking hold of the planet despite the rule of the Hutts. Shawn frowned as he continued to sense outward, sending a niggle of a warning to Loban should he ever plan to return to Tatooine.

Don't.

Perhaps this was Roan's doing? There was definitely something evil and ominious about this...

...but it made little tactical sense for someone such as Roan. Why would he attack a remote planet which, if annhilated, wouldn't truly impact the Galaxy as a whole?

No. Shawn didn't think this was Roan. But he had to find out just who, in fact, it was. And there was only one way he could do that. Pulling his robes more closely about himself, whether to protect himself from the suns of Tatooine or from the bone-chilling freeze of needless death, Shawn ventured outward hurriedly seeking an answer to this puzzle which had so suddenly and insidiously fallen into his lap. And, almost as an afterthought, he sent a tendril of a warning out upon a link forged with none other than blood itself...

[ 12-27-2002 12:09 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shawn Petrolu ]

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

...in the aftermath of the war.

There was rubble everywhere, people crying and sobbing and screaming, many apparently trying to get away from this place.

But the injuries...so many injuries...

...these people hadn't been ready for an attack, and they had been massacred.

Quite aware of the possibility that whatever had done this was still around, Shawn began assisting any injured he came upon, his senses keenly alert to his surroundings. As he began his work, he made sure to also find out if anyone knew what had happened here.

Troops, neither New Republic or Imperial by all appearances, had come down upon them and attacked with unrelenting ferocity.

Shawn's look remained calm as he heard much the same brief explanation from everyone he encountered, but his heart was troubled.

If not New Republic or Imperial...

..than who...?

As he yet continued caring for the wounded, Shawn began to consider just what he might be able to do about this...

...and at length he could think of only one thing, for there was only one power in the Universe with the troops to possibly respond to an attack of this magnitude...

[ 12-31-2002 09:51 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shawn Petrolu ]

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

The 'Deceased Star' made it's way down twoard the planet's surface, under the cloak of the magnetic south pole. SerKe knew something was amiss here when he had exited hyperspace. He saw many a battlecuiser in orbit, and knew he had to be careful about this. Using the stealth sheilding that blinded him from radar, He made damn sure he was out of view, using the planet itself as a visual sheild. Coming down into the atmosphere, he manualy piloted the ship to his private hanger in Mos Eisley. His business relation to the Hutts afforded him certain luxuary, a private hanger being one of them. The large, circular hanger doors closed as he landed, the landing gear coming out form the lower hull. with a light thud as he touched ground, the rear bay door of his ship opened up, and he stepped off. The door closed behind him and with a few clicks, the security measures took hold. Electric shock, motion detector blasters, to name a few.

He locked the hanger up completely and turned the lights out, making it seem as if the hanger was empty with nothing in it. locking the past door behind him with a security code, he quietly wandered into the city...wondering what exactly had transpired. Granted, Mos Eisley had seemed to be spared more so than the other towns and villages he passed on the way here, but still...what in the frell was going on. He headed to the cantina, perhaps he would find a few answers there.

[ 01-04-2003 01:05 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by SerKe Da'San ]

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

Perhaps now was the time to see just how concerned the "New Empire" was about the inhabitants of this galaxy...

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

"Hello Da'San..."

SerKe turned around to see Grindyu, one of many messengers of Grakko the Hutt, standing before him. SerKe grinned lightly as he motioned for Grindyu to sit.

"So, Grindyu, what is it your master wishes of me now?"

"Grakko would ask for your services once again."

"I see...and what is the payoff for doing this job, eh?" SerKe growled lightly.

"Three hundred thousand. Paid in full after the target is dead."

SerKe nodded as he thought of the money involved. After all, another 300,000 credits would be nice to have. Would go a long way for the new parts he wanted for the 'Deceased Star'...but, he still had the business with Minna. After all, finding one's heritage was top in a small list of priorities. SerKe looked to Grindyu, and his words were laced with playful overtones.

"And the name of this target?"

"Paul Arrakeen." Grindyu replied.

SerKe grinned. Perhaps, perhaps he would stay on Tatooine for a while longer and then go find Arrakeen...after all, Serke could still use a stiff drink right about now. SerKe ordered an Alderian Ale and then sent Grindyu on his way. SerKe wondered what Grakko was up to this time. Dealing with spice, he had no doubts. But, why did he want this man killed. These questions would be answered a bit later. For now...a drink would do...

[ 01-04-2003 03:53 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by SerKe Da'San ]

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

SerKe had just finished his drink when a tiny blue light flassed thrice in succession on his forearm apparatus. SerKe grinned widely as he left a few coins on the table and got up, making his way out of the bar. SerKe walked down the streets and alleyways of Mos Eisley, toward his private hanger.

He tapped the code into the door entry pad, and the door slid open slowly, sliding closed as he walked through. Locking the door mechanisms behind him, he boarded his ship, and walked into the cockpit. Sitting, he opened up the mssage sent to him...

Minna...

He read her transmission, and grimaced. Not what he was looking for. But useful, perhaps. He sent her a message in reply.

"Minna...these aren't the coordinates I asked for. But, two are better than one, they say. For this, I will pay you half of the rest of the amount owed. But I tell you this...if you are leading me into a trap of any kind..I will take the price it cost me back from you...

SerKe's image then grinned widely, and that lionine growl eminated form his lips, his eyes looking like the pits of hell as he did.

...in blood.

SerKe then sent the transmission and took the coordinates from her message and uploaded them into his nava-computer, updating his maps.

[ 01-04-2003 06:11 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Graysith ]

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

He couldnt help the joy cascading through his mental complex, filling him with the essence that he desired... it was always hard for him, to allow others the task of duing his deeds...

But this... This was something he would do himself... This was something that could only work if he himself acted as the bringer of death...

he walked through the streets, laughing from beneath his hood as people instinctivly shy'ed away from him, obviously unsure as to why this one possessed such a dark aura...

Passing along the streams of time he sat down within a small catina, none knew that it was he who had caused the destruction that had recently come to pass..

I must find this Grakko... He holds a tight rule beneath the folds of this planet... Crime has a way of creating power apparantly... I can not allow another to touch what i seek... No no no... I am the one who will rule...

Quietly he took forth a small communication device, and spoke with those aboard his large warbringer ship, which was still safely tucked away in the uncharted sector of space...

"I require a spy... contact one, and seek the location of Grakko the hut... Give whoever you find my frequency..."

With that he fell silent and enjoyed a few drinks...

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

Minna brought Forbiddance into a landing in her customary spot when visiting this world, in the outskirts of that den of filth and inequity which passed for a city: Mos Eisely. Granted, she'd had a touch of trouble in-coming; there seemed to be an inordinate amount of ships flying about in orbit, the majority of them now being Imperial destroyers and SSDs. However, using the codes given to her earlier by Lt. Gen Tarnus, she had been able to slip into their midst, and was allowed to descend and land.

She shook her head to herself, now powering down her systems, and muttering for the fact that she'd had to come back here at all. If it hadn't been for the fact that she didn't get all of Forbiddance's upgrades she wanted finalized, she wouldn't now be needing to come here to where she had hidden her secret little stash of funds, that she could then leave and go to Kuat or somewhere possibly not under Imperial blockade and see to her ship.

And then--

She sighed with the sudden realization that she was back to Square One.

Well... not entirely, she muttered to herself, now bringing up the connection to her account and noting the additional funds which had been deposited therein. She frowned again.

There it sits: more money than I've seen in a lifetime of spying... and what good does it do me? If I dare to take it, He will know where I am.

And I want to remain as invisible to Him as I possibly can!

She snapped the connection off altogether with a little grunt, then departed from her ship and set off amidst the crowds which beat the dreary sand-streets with myriad exotic feet. Soon she came to the place where her little nest-egg was hidden; after checking to make certain it was all there, she placed the funds upon her person, and turned away.

She was heading back to where she had landed when a thought struck her, a thought promoted by this infernal planet's infernally dry and gritty air and equally infernal twin suns.

Might as well stop off for a drink before I go, she mused, heading off and soon entering into her favorite cantina in Mos Eisley:

The Blue Asteroid.

She wandered in and took a seat, lifting a finger, and soon had something cold and fiery and blue in front of her....

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

SerKe made his way in quietly, and sensed a pressence he had felt before. He didn;t quite know how he did it, but he didn't bother to ask. Sliding up into the shadows, he let his gaze wander. A few toydarians, a man drapped in a hooded cloak with a particulay dark arua around him, and lo and behold, Minna Manth!
It's like the holidays in July... SerKe thought to himself.

He slid around and decided that if Minna was going to be so frightened of him, he mine as well tighten the grip of fear she had for him. After all, a decent spy was always a good thing to have in one's back pocket. He slid up to her, as quiet as death itself, as he leaned and whispered into her ear quietly.

"Remember...in blood..."

SerKe then slid downward and away from her table, letting her wonder what had just transpired. He made his way to the bar, and purchased another Alderian ale, and slide off to a table. That hooded man seemed to be of some interest. He felt almost, as if he were true evil. As if he had commited some horrid, terrible deed. Again, SerKe couldn't explain how he came to such conclusions, but none the less, he did. SerKe liked that in a person. So, being the brash, yet wickedly twisted man he was, he took a seat at the table across from the hooded man, a grin slithering across his lionine features.

"So...what brings such a mysterious person as yourself to our little corner of hell?"

SerKe chuckled rather lightly, almost as if he were honestly amused at himself, sipping his ale lightly.

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

Whirling about, she was just in time to see him fade -- or at least she thought she saw him fade -- into the smoke-laden shadows of this establishment, his words now equally giving way before the onslaught of the ever-present jizz-wailer who warbled in a terribly off-keyed voice from another corner.

She shivered, wondering if what she saw was real, debating whether or not she should just up and go... then frowned to herself.

Minna, you're one of the best spies out there, and you know it! she reminded herself, now settling back and forcing her hand to remain calm as she reached out to her drink to take a sip.

If you keep on obsessing about that Sith Lord...

Well.

You'll certainly never be that same spy again, will you? And where will that lead?

Nodding her momentary flush of fear from her, she managed to quiet her heart, and remained where she was, sipping her drink as she pondered where she should go from here.

[ 01-05-2003 03:14 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Minna Manth ]

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"What brings someone such as I? it is simple, there is someone on this planet which does not belong, i am here to right that wrong..."

time slipped for a moment, spinning past him in a vortex of silence, before his voice again came forth smoothly and deadly, "Perhaps you can assist me... know you where a hut called grakko dwells?"

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

The shuttle disembarked from the Star Destroyer's hangar, flying to the planet Tattooine. The passenger it carries, the Jedi Paul Arrakeen, sat within his Force cage, only given a small window to look out the cockpit window.

Paul hated this cell, as it kept him from meditating. The trip to the system had been agonizing to his senses, as the only thing he was able to hear was the low rumbling of a ship's engines. The sight of Tattooine didn't make him feel any beter.

I'm about to infiltrate a gang of notoriously vicious Hutts whilst under the gunpoint of the Empire. Smart move, Paul. It couldn't possibly get any worse than this.

The light within the cell turned off suddenly, placing the Jedi in darkness. Paul heard several clicks emitting from around the cell.

"Command center has powered down the Force cage. You're approaching Tattooine's atmosphere." crackled the ship's intercomm. "We have programmed the shuttle to land on the outskirts of Mos Eisley. Good luck."

The door slid open and the Jedi moved out to the cockpit. He approached the command console and studied it for a few moments.

Hope this will be easier than the X-Wing.

There was a small monitor showing about four triangular symbols moving off screen.

"The fleet must be moving out." he spoke to himself. "Well, I hope they don't get too far off or--"

A distant explosion, almost muffled by the shuttle's engine interrupted him. The ship shook from the shockwave of it, but Paul held on to the pilot's chair.

He looked at the radar screen again, and saw one of the triangles began blinking red, then it disappeared.

Their fleet is under attack?!

Paul's hand instantly moved to toggle the switch to activate the hyperspace engines, but stopped as he touched it. He shook his head.

I'll be a dead man anyway if I go back. No point in being wanted by half the galaxy's bounty hunters.

He switched off the radar, and accelerated the shuttle's engines. The shuttle soon entered the atmosphere, and the onscreen computer displayed a series of numbers counting down until contact with the surface.

Minutes passed, and he broke through the atmosphere. Paul saw that night was beginning to fall on Tattooine.

"Touching down in 30 seconds." he said as he began to slow down the shuttle's descent. The shuttle began to slow down, and then started hovering until it finally touched the ground.

Have I wandered into the middle of a war?

The loading ramp lowered, and the Jedi strolled down it. Paul thought he heard thunder, and realized that they were more explosions.

On the surface? he thought.

Rather than stick around to find out, the Jedi ran from the shuttle towards the direction of Mos Eisley...

[ 01-07-2003 06:14 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Paul Arrakeen ]

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

"Well...All I know of the Hutt named Grakko is that he lives on the outskirts of town. Very prominent here in Mos Eisley. I'm not sure exactly, but I do know that a few of his messengers happen to frequent this little cantina."

SerKe finished his drink quietly, and then nodded to the hooded man, a smile upon his face.

"Sorry I couldn't be of more help to you, my friend."

SerKe stood and left a few coins on the bar, heading out. He looked up and saw that night was upon them. There was too much going on here. Imperial fleets, Grakko looking for a man named Arrakeen. Minna finding her way here. It all smelled rotton. And he had things to do.

Sliding sround the shadowy corners, staying hidden in the darkness, he made his way to that private hanger a 2nd time. But, the last time. He tapped the keypad, and slid through the doorway. closing and locking the door behind him, he walked through the darkness into his ship. He started the ship up, and thankfully, due to all the explosions outside of town, his ship wasn;t as noisey as it could be. The large, circular hanger door opened, and SerKe manuvered the ship out of the hanger, into the night sky of tatooine.

Checking radar for the position of the imperial fleet, he noticed laserfire. And they were all concentrated above him. He manualy flew the 'Deceased Star' to the magnetic south pole again, and using it as a sheild to radar, and the planet to hide him from view, he took off into space.

When he was safe enough from Tatooine and all the insanity there, he punched in the coordinates for a world that might hold some answers. and hopefully, he would find them. SerKe was off to K'har Delba.

((OOC: Please follow SerKe to To Wake the Dead in the Jedi Praxeum & Sith Temple forums, thank you.))

[ 01-08-2003 07:36 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by SerKe Da'San ]

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

But, he was no pilot...

...so he’d need some help.

Sighing at that, Shawn realized what ship he was stuck in yet again. Tatooine frequently had visitors who were very good pilots, and they could usually be found in one particular place fairly easily.

A cantina in a spaceport.

Turning on his heel, Shawn began to head towards the nearest spaceport he knew of in this area of Tatooine.

Mos Eisley.

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

With such ease this emotion comes forth from the human mind...

An emotion kept at bay for much of his life, but he could resist no longer...

She mocks his love with another, and he falls back... They take his home, and he falls back... this far, no farther... and hate will make them pay for what they have done...

Lo-Ban extended his right forearm, the muscles as tight as an elven bow, and placed a return course... back to Tatooine...

With his home destroyed, he headed to the nearest settlement, a place that beckoned him...

Mos Eisley...

This far, no farther...

[ 01-14-2003 02:38 AM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Loban ]

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His head hang low, as his saber ignited...

The first one was easy, the second just the same...

Soon he was slicing through them as if he were a Japanese short-order cook...

Before he could realize his actions, his saber fell silent, as the last of the victims lay at his feet...

Victims of all races, innocent alike...

He did not care, they would do... anything to ease his pain, they would do for now...

He dropped to his knees, and began to sob...

[ 01-14-2003 11:54 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Loban ]

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...hate...?

Shawn didn't shudder, but for some reason Tatooine, a usually harsh and humid world, suddenly seemed deathly cold. He swallowed inperceptibly, still managing to keep that aura of utter calm he was noted for as he stretched out in the Force...

...whereupon, after some length of time, he struck upon a very familiar and very angered Force-signature.

Shawn rose, his demeanor yet utterly calm, and considered for one moment more. Then he headed in the direction which that hate and anger flowed. He didn't even know he was running. Dishearteningly enough, every step he took only brought yet more chill in the air...

...death...

Time passed slowly as he continued his journey towards something no Jedi Master ever wanted to face. But at last he made it to the cantina where there was no life, excepting one.

One very familiar, very despairing, and very angry life.

Any wise Master knows that there is a time to teach, and there is a time to simply show compassion. Shawn was conflicted with the number of dead bodies lying about at this understanding...

...but Loban had fallen to this sort of anger more than once before, albeit in not such a grand spectrum, and in those cases he had been under some deadly and unforseen influence. Shawn had to know precisely what had happened.

Slowly and calmly, Shawn stepped into the cantina amidst a pile of dead bodies of all races, til at length he stood not far from the crumpled and sobbing form of his former apprentice. Aside from those sobs, not a sound could be heard.

There was only one thing Shawn could think of to do at that moment, for he could clearly sense the conflicting emotions raging from Loban's psyche as well as a very defined sense of loss. His greeny-blue eyes rating forgiveness rather than sterness, he reached out a hand and laid it upon the sobbing young man's shoulder. "Come with me," he said softly, "And we will fight this together."

Then he fell silent, not moving the slightest, his senses keenly attuned to Loban and all that surrounded them as he waited to see just how the young man might respond.

[ 01-19-2003 03:12 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Shawn Petrolu ]

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

Alcron had found his way to this place, in the destraction that a young rampaging jedi had caused, it had been easy enough to locate the fleeing henchman...

Now he turned about within the hideout, "you work for me, or you die..."

Slowly a hand reached from his cape, tossing it at the feet of one of the higher up lackies... "this is a new form of spice, replicate it, and sell it... it will sell much faster you will find... Keep the credits gained, but spread it... All will fall befor its side affects..."

He smiled darkly and exited, with this task done it was time for a more diplomatic side...

he had heard of a Mr. Sorben Tarnus, rising above the simple level of bounty hunter... Alcron needed to weave his webs about all he could, and an alliance would be helpful, and bounty hunters, no matter how powerful in status, were not exactly the most well suited business men...

With his ship docked inside the larger Warbringer hidden within space, alcron sent out a message to sorbens commlink, a commlink Alcron hoped was still active, remnants of his bounty hunter day's...

"Mr. Tarnus, I must meet with you... That is, if you want to put an end to pointless deaths..."

[ 01-19-2003 05:45 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Lord_Alcron ]

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(En route to Coruscant from Kamino....)

I just about fell out of my navigation seat as a commlink not used in over a year suddenly burst into life. A voice I had never heard before came wafting tinnily from it, blithely informing me that someone must meet with me....

???

I was reaching to that selfsame link on my gauntlet, ready to send back a sharp retort when two things simultaneously struck me. One, I had never in my life heard this voice before, and as top-gun bounty hunter I always made a point of memorizing every physical characteristic I could about a person, from general attributes to the smallest of unconscious nuances used in body language; and two:

Who in the name of all the universe could send transmissions while we're in hyperspace? And have it get through...?

That little item gave me reason to pause... but another gave me more of one. I turned my helmeted head to where Darra lay kicking and cooing in the seat I had gently strapped her in, finding simple delight in all the pretty colors which danced on the navboard in front of her tiny nose.

That decided it for me. Whoever this guy was, he could wait. After having regained my daughter from the very dead, I wasn't about to do a thing to risk sending her back into that particular night.

Sitting back, I just eyeballed the communications panel on my glove, listening to that message come to a terminus before pausing, then repeating. I must have listened to at least half a dozen repetitions before I reached over with my other hand and snapped it off altogether.

Whoever it was had managed to reach me over my old bounty hunter link. That was an occupation I was no longer interested in. And if it was for something else... well, this unknown person or persons ought to know who I now was, and where I could now be reached.

I now reached a gloved finger out and gently tweaked Darra's little nose. Then I settled back with a creak of armor, and let Ransacker continue to yowl its way back to Coruscant.

((OOC: Follow me to my arrival on Coruscant in Return To Tomorrow in the "Empire/New Republic" forums, thank you.))

[ 01-22-2003 01:04 PM: Message edited 1 time, lastly by Sorben Tarnus ]

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