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File: A Fragile Balance.jpg (177 KB, 600x466)
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Archives: http://suptg.thisisnotatrueending.com/archive.html?tags=A%20Fragile%20Balance
Resources: https://pastebin.com/KAmx2b3Z

>Thousands of years before the New Republic, the galaxy is split between the Old Republic and Sith Empire, who have maintained a fragile truce for nearly a decade. You are Leera Varrus, a young Zeltron man who graduated from the Sith academy on Korriban, and who is now apprenticed to a Lord in the Imperial Reclamation Service. Your Master's work - and by extension your own - takes you all over the ill-explored region between Hutt Space and the Imperial Core.

>The nature of your Master's expertise and his erratic nature means that your training has been unfocused and intermittent, but you have learned a great deal about Sith society, and have become something of an amateur diplomat. It is a skillset that may come in handy as the galaxy's cold war turns hot. Chaotic times are coming, but chaos breeds opportunity for those with the will to seize it.
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>>2219932
As you tighten your grip around the hilt of an all-too-familiar vibrosword, you think back to your time at the Sith academy on Korriban. In the six months since you left it behind, you have grown more than in the previous three years. The students you had faced in duels, like Loman, would be overwhelmed by the man you've become - but Loman is dead, and all you have left is the practice droid standing before you in your Master's courtyard. The copper-plated robot bobs up and down on its thin legs, blade ready, waiting for you to make the first move. It's far from a worthy opponent, but you don't want your skills to degenerate further than they already have.

The first few months in Lord Veredious' service had been terrific. You had jetted all over Hutt space, posing as diplomatic functionaries and chasing down leads on valuable artifacts, Sith and otherwise. Gradually, though, your Master's interests seemed to shift - away from his work, and away from you. He now spends more time on the Sith capital of Dromund Kaas playing politics than he does actually doing his job. For that, he has you to depend on.

"Are you ready?" the droid asks, its robotic voice ever cheery. Far above you, a flock of Oranta bellow out a deep cry that carries into every corner of the courtyard. The manta ray-like creatures would look more at home in water than in the sky, but you have become inured to the sight of such strange creatures. That was the second thing to shock you when you first left Korriban - the sheer variety of living things in the galaxy, sentient or otherwise. Your limited holonet access had somewhat prepared you for that, but seeing it was another thing entirely. Each new world you visited brought new plants, animals, and ways of life.

The *first* thing to shock you was not the variety of life to be found in the galaxy, but the sheer amount of it. Korriban has two permanents settlements - the Sith academy, and a glorified trading post called 'Dreshdae'. Everything else is tombs and barren rock, stalked by a few species of vicious creatures like the Tuk'ata, who seem more like harbingers of death than examples of life.

Voss, on the other hand, is overrun with life. The color is not that different from Korriban - a vivid orange instead of a rusty red - but the orange comes from the grass and trees that wreathe the planet in eternal autumn. There are always birds in the sky, small rodents in the trees, and sinewy predators stalking through the grass. You like the planet, but you can hardly call it 'home'. Most of these last six months has been spent aboard your Master's ship, jetting between Imperial and Hutt space on mission after mission.
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>>2219935
That hadn't been bad, either. What you didn't like was what came after that - when he took his ship to Dromund Kaas, and continued to give you off-world tasks while insisting you jet along with whatever Imperial diplomatic mission happened to be able to pick you up. It's always cramped, the people are always boring, and they never arrive where they're going on time. It's an untenable situation, and you need to solve it.

"Are you ready?" the droid asks again.

Your blade has dipped towards the ground while you were in thought, and your stance went soft. You re-assert both, assuming a ready position in front of the droid - but it still awaits your verbal cue. The soft *clink* of your blade against the droid's reminds you of your other niggling problem.

Your lightsaber. The one you *don't* have. For months you have been hounding your Master, pressing him for the time and materials to construct a lightsaber of your own. It would not be unusual for an Apprentice to do so immediately upon being taken by a Master, but Veredious has delayed and delayed. 'It's not a question of materials', he insists.

Constructing a lightsaber requires a lightsaber *crystal*, which are produces from common minerals using a Geomorphic Compressor. It's an expensive machine, but your Master is wealthy and resourceful enough to acquire the use of one, if he truly wanted to. You have invested your time and energy into him and his teachings - he should likewise invest in you.

"Are you read--"

Before the droid can finish, you draw your blade back and swing at it, striking the droid's sword and sending it staggering off to the side before it manages to right itself. It makes no other move, though - you still didn't answer it. You just really wanted to hit something that couldn't hit back.

You wouldn't mind activating this droid's dueling protocols and showing yourself you've still got it.
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>>2219942
It's time to d-d-d-d-d-duel
I wouldn't mind getting a nice utility droid companion too if possible
>>
Do sith ever find their own natural crystals? I know they're usually synthetic.
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>>2219942
Let's fight. Better to channel our frustration with Juyo than to let it simmer pointlessly.
>>
Twitter kinda sucks but it is useful to let your players know when you're running a new thread. If you post your account in /qtg/ it'll get added to a list of QMs which might even get you more players
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>>2219942
"Ready," you say to the droid. At your command it pushes forward, waiting until it feels true resistance from your blade before it tries to sweep away your guard. You slide your blade forward to regain the balance of power in the tangle of steel, then press continue the sweep and turn it into a flourish which forces the droid to withdraw before you manage to disarm it.

The practice droid is strong and unflappable, but it is also incredibly predictable - not a desireable trait in an opponent when you seek to improve your own skills and not simply chalk up an empty win.

If you're going to win this without embarassment, you should feel out those patterns some. Roll me a 1d6.
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>>2220058
Thanks, I'll do that soon.
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Rolled 5 (1d6)

>>2220138
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Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>2220138
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Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>2220138
As predictable as the droid is, you aren't much better. Juyo has been your form of choice since the academy, and you open up with a series of wide swings that would immediately give your strategy away to an observant opponent. Here, though, you only face a droid. A droid which blocks and parries your arcing cuts, each one showing you a small gap in your opponent's pre-programmed defenses.

You aren't moving as fast as you could be or striking as hard as possible, but that's not your intention. You want to see how the droid fights, just as you would carefully consider any opponent before going for the killing blow. The droid takes your casual strikes as a sign of opportunity, and goes in for a tight swing carefully placed between your heavy steps and broad blows.
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>>2220155
You easily block the strike, catching your opponent's blade with the edge of your own just above the hilt. Juyo isn't as well-suited for defense as it is for attack, but you have learned to adapt and fill in the gaps inherent in the aggressive and Force-fueled form. The droid recognizes none of that, though, and simply withdraws into its earlier ready stance and prepares the exact same defense as before.

You're already getting tired of this fight, though not in the physical sense. Improvement is all about putting yourself up against challenges that force you to adapt. Better yet, challenges which themselves adapt and force you to outpace them. This droid, with its eyeless copper head and repetitive blows, can do none of that.

You've improved yourself much in the last six months. Some under your Master, but some under your own direction. Did you focus on improving your Combat skills, your aptitude for the Force, your overall Knowledge, your Technical skills, or your Social acumen? You only had time to seriously devote to one.

It's time to probe the droid's defenses for a real opening, now that you know its patterns. Roll me 1d6.
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>>2220178

Due to the Zeltron species' natural empathy, you already have enhanced social skills. Your time with Lord Veredious increased your knowledge. Either can be chosen again, though, to further increase the odds of success in tasks related to those areas.
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>>2220178
Lacking a lightsaber, and having the advantags here >>2220190, I'd say a focus on Force Powers might be handy.

I'd say Combat a close second.
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Rolled 5 (1d6)

>>2220178
Can't go wrong with more Force.
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Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>2220178
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>>2220178
>>2220190
Force powers
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Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>2220178
Force powers as the other anon said, we lack a light sabre. Vibrosword is fine and all but it isn't the real thing
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>>2219932
I am at thread #1 right now but I got to say I am a fan of SW and like your writing already!

Would be nice to have your twitter eventually for future updates, QM.
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>>2220178
>Social acumen
Diplo monster coming right in
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>>2220190
>force powers
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Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>2220178
force powers are pretty good to have
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>>2220178
You drive forward at the droid, which seems almost surprised at your speed and ferocity. Now that you know its strengths, its weaknesses, and its habits, forcing it to open itself up to a 'lethal' strike is a simple matter of exploiting those patterns.

You may have spent more time learning how to manipulate the Force than practicing with a blade, but you are still able to adeptly read a simple machine like this. You bring your blade down on its head, forcing the droid to block. It then shoves your weapon back towards you, seeking to open *you* to attack - but you are already circling around to strike at its midsection, in a sideways chop that will cleave it in two if it doesn't stop you.

The automaton manages to block just in time, though it has sacrificed any sort of reasonable stance and grip to do so. It staggers awkwardly to the side, hilt grasped by its shoulder and bladed pointed downward to catch yours.

You've opened it up to a real strike. The attack patterns you've gleaned will give you an advantage for the remainder of the fight - and even beyond that. But the opening you've created will only last a few precious seconds.

Roll me 2d6. The first for your strike, the second to possibly explain a vague feeling growing in the back of your mind the longer you fight.
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Rolled 3, 2 = 5 (2d6)

>>2220620
>>
Rolled 5, 3 = 8 (2d6)

>>2220620
>>
Rolled 5, 1 = 6 (2d6)

>>2220620
>>
Rolled 3, 4 = 7 (2d6)

>>2220620
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>>2220620
This was never going to be a difficult fight, but all you can feel is disappointment as you bring your vibrosword slicing up through the droid's midsection. Disappointment that your opponent isn't worth its value in scrap, and disappointment that this is the most worthy opponent you've faced in a month. Hell, it's the *only* true opponent you've faced in a month.

The droid crumples to the ground, top half sliding off the other as it lets out a slow, electronic whine. Repairing it will be difficult - your Master's Weequay mechanic is nearly impossible to force any sort of difficult task upon, threats or no. Buying another such droid is even harder. The Voss species that give your home planet its name have little in the way of a dueling tradition, and don't produce droids like these. One will have to be imported from Hutt or Imperial space, which will take time and credits.

Perhaps the spiritually-minded Voss with their colorful robes and more colorful skin have rubbed off on you. You have neglected your combat skills in favor of delving into the mysteries of the Force, a pursuit aided here and there by the bits of knowledge you manage to glean from the artifacts recovered by you and your Master. Nearly all of them end up in the vault of the Imperial Reclamation Service's headquarters on Dromund Kaas, but Lord Veredious always makes sure to get what information he can from them before he hands them over. Some of that, he shares with you - though he is always careful not to reveal too much too quickly.
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>>2220641
You take his protectiveness as a compliment, an implicit statement that he considers you dangerous enough to hide such knowledge from. Sith apprenticeships end when the Apprentice feels he has learned all he can from his Master. His graduation ceremony is to strike down his Master, and assume all his responsibilities and wealth. Such a day is likely far off for you, but you always keep it in mind. Lord Veredious is a better swordsmen than you, better connected, and more knowledgeable. He keeps his skill with the Force a secret, and you're not sure what sort of indication to take that as. Sith hide their weaknesses, but they often hide their greatest strengths as well.

A slow clap echoes through the white-walled courtyard, and you turn to see Lord Veredious standing in the exterior hallway circling the space. He picks up a small wooden box from a bench beside him and strides towards you, black & purple robe lightly dusting the stone as he walks. You don't know how long he's been standing there, but you suspect that niggling sensation in the back of your mind was awareness of another's presence - which means he was there for the entire duel. You had been too distracted and worked up to take serious notice of it. Detecting Force-sensitives is near-instinctual for you now, but detecting those who *try* to hide their presence is a more difficult task, a test of who possesses a more focused control of their powers. Today, that was your Master.

"I've never been one for punching down." With his hands occupied by the wooden box in his hands, Veredious nods at the eviscerated droid behind you. "Did you run out of willing opponents in Voss-Ka?"

You want to demand a lightsaber.
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>>2220643
Kneel to your master and say we need to bind our time on the other hand we are a Zeltron and be guided by emotions is our business. So at least show some respect for someone more powerfull then us...for now.

Yes the
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>>2220643
Use respectful language because he IS our master but yes, demand a lightsabre
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>>2220643
You kneel down, pressing your sword flat to the ground and bowing your head.

"Welcome back, Master."

He says nothing, and you stand back up. Even from your first meeting, it was clear that Veredious values tradition and protocol - but not in a mindless sense. Little formalities like kneeling and making a show of obeisance make it clear that you understand who is Master and who is Apprentice - and what those words mean. Once that is established you can then speak more openly than apprentices would normally dare to, with less fear of reprisal.

With your sword held loosely at your side, you swipe it up and down, idly striking at the stone by your feet.

"It is difficult to find dueling opponents, Master. Normal swordsmen are little match for me, and those who wield lightsabers will not duel an Apprentice with no lightsaber." You twist around, reaching back to grasp the fallen droid with the Force and bring it hovering alongside you. "This is the best opponent I've had in weeks. I *cannot* improve like this." You let your sneering anger seep into your words as you crush the droid's plated chest, then drop it to the ground.

Veredious' lip twitches in amusement, and he uses the Force to snatch the vibrosword from your hand and fling it across the courtyard with a simple flick of the wrist. You nearly rise to further anger, but then you see him holding out the wooden box in his hands. It's flat but broad, and he can't manage to hold it while undoing the latch on the front.

"Help me here, will you?" he says, nodding at the box.

Tentatively, you unhook the age-worn metal latch and lift open the lid. Nestled in the folds of red velvet within are three lightsaber hilts.
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>>2220669
"Your long wait is over, Apprentice."

Eyes transfixed on the gleaming tubes of silvery metal, you run your fingers over each. The first is roughly the same length and circumference as any standard blade hilt, lightsaber or conventional - no special characteristics, but perfectly capable of being used in a wide range of styles and purposes. The second is longer and heavier-looking, designed to comfortably accommodate two hands. It would be right at home in yours as you rain down meteoric blows.

The third hilt is only slightly longer than the first, but curved at the end - designed to be gripped in a way that allows strikes from odd angles. Whereas the second blade would allow you to overwhelm from sheer strength of blows, this one would give you an edge of unpredictability. Your aggressive, never-ending strikes would seem to come from impossible directions, baffling those who rigidly adhere to the traditional dueling forms drilled into them at both the Sith and Jedi academies.

Which hilt do you choose?
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>>2220671
The second one
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>>2220671
i say the curved hilt
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>>2220671
Even with the oblivious weakness, the second one fits us best
>>
test
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>>2220671
curved
lightsaber
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>>2220671
>Open up saber number three
We precise now.
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>>2220671
The last one
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>>2220671
Saber 3.
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>>2220671
3. Brute strength is much less useful when it's predictable.
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>>2220756
We almost broke through defenses of our dueling partners when on equal footing.
Two hand saber would give us enough edge to just smash through and it adds power to all of our attacks, so we are not tied to one style.
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>>2220671
Your wandering hand stops on the last hilt - the curved one. Gripping it firmly, you lift it from the box and examine it while Veredious closes the container. The uniqueness of the hilt is not only in the obvious difference in shape, but in the weight of it as well. The area running along the length of the concave portion is weighted, allowing you to easily find the proper way grip for it by feel alone.

Holding it feels awkward at first, but a few quick swings of an imaginary blade in front of you has you quickly seeing the advantages of such a weapon. In time, any lingering awkwardness will pass, while the advantages remain.

"Satisfied?" Veredious says, lowering the box.

You spin the hilt in your palm and slide it into a loop in your belt, where your extendable vibrosword once sat. With no physical blade, the lightsaber hilt carries a far less noticeable weight.

"Very," you say with a gratified bow of the head.

"There's no crystal in it, of course." Veredious turns to walk inside and you follow, moving from the courtyard into the manor's interior. The home once belonged to a wealthy Voss, but the Empire acquired it - through very legitimate means - in order to serve as a home for one of the many Imperial diplomats who serve on the neutral planet. Whichever functionary once lived here decided that the suburban manor was too far from the political center of Voss' capital, Voss-ka, so the home was handed over to Lord Veredious.

Your Master's cover is that of a diplomat seeking to bring Voss into the Empire's fold, but neither he nor you do any real diplomatic work on Voss. It merely provides a convenient cover to travel to nearby areas of neutral space, places which would be otherwise hostile to two Sith digging around for valuable artifacts and lost treasures.

"You've acquired a Geomorphic Compressor?" you ask him. The two of you enter one of the building's countless common areas, a room of gentle white stucco walls and wood panelling, decorated in traditionally colorful Voss fashion. Rugs of blue and orange cover the tiled floors, and tapestries featuring complex geometric designs hang from the walls. You have yet to see any Voss art depicting a living being - not even a tree. Some cultural sensibility that you can't quite understand.

"I've acquired the *use* of one," he replies as he sets the wooden box down on a table at the center of the room. "The Military Spheres are loathe to just... hand one over. Not with things heating up the way they are."

"What about the crystal materials?" you say. "Will those be provided for me?"

He gives you a mischievous smile. "Come, now. Do you expect *everything* to be handed to you?" He nods at the saber hilt hung at your side.

"It's *dirt*," you shoot back, before adding a hasty "...Master."
>>
>>2220792
"I suppose 'dirt' is appropriate enough... but only the right concentration of raw minerals will produce a viable Lightsaber crystal when fed into the compressor. Otherwise, you'll end up with nothing but a very expensive lump of coal."

"Where can I find the proper minerals?"

He smiles again, and you can tell that you've walked into another carefully-crafted remark. "As you said, it's only dirt."

You frown, and he finally relents. "Fret not - I will provide the necessary information for you to do this properly."

Satisfied, you ease back and relax your taut shoulders. "Is this why you've spent so much time on Dromund Kaas? Petitioning one of the Military Spheres for use of a compressor?"

He glances off to the side, curling his lips into an odd frown as he rubs his chin.

"No, my business on Dromund Kaas is... political." The strange expression softens, and he looks back to you as he lays a hand on your shoulder. "The IRS *found* this compressor, on Nez Peron. Can you believe it?"

You really can't. Nez Peron lies in the Seat of the Empire, near Dromund Kaas and Korriban, but it's an agricultural world with only one major city - not the sort of place one uncovers anything except abandoned farm implements.

"What was it doing there?" you wonder.

"Emperor only knows. Could have been set up to fuel lightsaber construction during the first Hyperspace War. Then, they were pushed back and forced to abandon the thing." He shakes his head and throws up his hands. "At any rate, the important thing is that it will remain there for two weeks before it's hauled to Dromund Kaas and the likes of Darth Arkous get their hands on it. After that, only warriors will be able to use it."

You frown at the slight, though you know it was unintentional - or at least you think it is. Many Sith go off into military service - the postings range from horrendous to career-makers, and largely depend on which Lord acquire you as an apprentice. You were quite happy to be accepted as Lord Veredious' apprentice, but you can't help but chafe under the feeling that you're more of a negotiator and archaeologist than a true Sith.

Not that you're weak - you are stronger now than you were six months ago, and could destroy any of your former classmates in battle. Unfortunately, your peers are no longer mere students - they are full-fledged Sith, like you.
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>>2220793
"Two weeks?" you ask him.

"You're used to working under deadlines, yes?"

You nod. "And a natural lightsaber crystal is out of the question?"

He leans back and lets out a raucous laugh, but steadies himself as he sees how serious you are.

"How many Sith do you know of who use natural Lightsaber crystals?" he asks.

You think for a moment, running through all of those in your order you've encountered over your lifetime. Some during your time at the academy, such as the instructors and visiting Masters, but even more during your visits to Dromund Kaas and other Imperial worlds.

"Lord Jutai," you answer excitedly. "His yellow crystal came from a natural cave formation. I've heard as much."

Veredious jerks his head back in a silent chuckle, but keeps his eyes on you.

"That Miraluka is a defector from the Jedi Order, who have a near-monopoly on natural crystals. Jutai's was acquired long before he became Sith."

You nod in understanding. "There are no sources within Sith space?"

"You give this too much thought," Veredious says, his normally fast manner of speech turning slow and measured. It's a shift that never fails to grab your attention and hold onto it. "Even if we had access to natural crystals, we would not use them. Do you know why?"

You know Veredious well enough to understand that he's not looking for a simple answer of synthetic crystals being technically superior in certain aspects. He is testing your understanding of both Sith philosophy and history.
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>>2220794
Our philosophy is to change the world to increase our own power rather than just happening to find a crystal. Our control over it's formation makes us an active creator of the crystal rather than the passive way that Jedi simply happen to find a crystal.
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>>2220805
It's kind of an example of how sith want to create their own destiny and the Jedi want to just passively follow the will of the force
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>>2220794
It's mostly a question of logistics. The Jedi and Sith both used natural crystals, like Kyber, but the Jedi managed to gain a stranglehold on their supply. As such the Sith turned to sunth crystals, showing their dominance over nature by making their own. Some natural crystals are resistant to dark side power, true, but a powerful enough user can dominate them just the same as a person.
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>>2220805
This, sith create their destiny
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>>2220794
"Because we don't passively follow fate," you say to Veredious. "We forge our own crystals - and our own destiny."

"Yes!" Veredious hisses excitedly. "The Jedi scrounge in the dirt in the hopes that they will find something of value." Your Master clenches his fist tight as he leans in even closer to you. "We take the dirt, and we *make* it into something valuable."

He gives you a good-natured jostle of the shoulder, then steps back and draws a datapad from one of the many folds of his robe and hands it to you.

"What's this?" You switch the hand-held computer on, and find a number-filled readout describing mineral content and optimal geological conditions.

"Everything you will need to hunt down a suitable location to harvest from." Veredious taps the side of his head. "Well, that and your wits."

You give a tight-lipped nod and hook the datapad onto one of your belt's small loops. It's a challenge, but it is one you're more than capable of - and you have waited long enough to acquire a lightsaber.

"Can I assume you don't expect me to limit my search to Voss?"

Veredious scoffs. "Hardly. I can't imagine this planet has the proper conditions anywhere." He gestures at a far-away window that looks out on neighborhood outside, bronze-capped cylinders of white-walled homes surrounded by autumn-colored trees. "It's all gentle hills and grass fields here."

"You said yourself that I'm working with a tight time limit, Master." You swallow as you prepare to broach another problem you've been wanting to solve for quite a long time. "I can't be expected to hitch rides on diplomatic flights in my search."

"No, I suppose not." He lets out an exaggerated sigh, but you can tell by the calculating look in his eyes that he has already considered this, and come to a conclusion. This is just his way of making you feel as if you've extracted a favor from him.

"You will have the use of the Fury," he says. You know the ship well - it's been more of a home to you than the manor you stand in now. The Empire originally designed the ship as a heavy interceptor for use in large-scale combat, but found it too unwieldy. The entire line was put out of service, but the spacious ships found a new use among wealthy and connected Sith Lords. The ships were stripped of their heavy equipment and much of their weaponry, and refitted as passenger vessels. Luxurious and spacious, but still fast and maneuverable enough to escape high-stakes situations.
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>>2220879
"Thank you, Master." You bow again. When you look back up, you see him eyeing you thoughtfully as he rubs his chin. This time, he seems to be entertaining an actual fresh thought.

"You should have use of one of the servants as well, I suppose."

Veredious certainly has no shortage of them. The man is a xenophile, a trait that is tolerated more in the academic IRS than it would be elsewhere. He spends an inordinate amount of time and energy acquiring servants and slaves in his travels - normally, whichever one happened to strike his fancy for whatever strange reason. You suspect his xenophilia encompasses its most literal definitions, but you've never actually *seen* the man using his menagerie of servants for carnal purposes - a vile image you're quick to put out of mind.

"Any of them, Master?" you ask him.

His eyes go slightly wider and he waves a hand dismissively. "No. Not the essential ones."

You nearly laugh. He *has* no essential servants - in fact, he has so many that you often feel as if you're living in a halfway house for Outer Rim refugees. Veredious is far from a *kind* man, but he is so busy in his work that many of his servants simply hang around while serving no real function. They are still slaves and indentured servants, yes, but they are so ill-managed that you can't even begin to feel sorry for them. Even so, Veredious is loathe to part with any of them - such is the mind of a collector.

"Which did you have in mind?" you ask him.

His lips purse and his eyes dart around. You can practically see his frugal mind at work, deciding which of his collection would pain him the least to part with.

"Let's say... Qorro, Hacna, Marama, and Olub'cree."

Each name that passes his lips has your heart sinking a little further. Your first thought is mild amazement that he actually remembers his servants' names. Then, you realize that he likely had this list prepared for quite some time. All he needed was an opportunity to pawn one of them off on you.

"Just one, Master?" You're not sure why you even bother to ask, but you can't think of anything else to say.

"I hardly think you need a full entourage of servants following you around. Such a thing would be more of a hindrance than a help."
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>>2220880
You're inclined to agree - especially with the ones he offered you. The first two he mentioned are Weequay, humanoids with braided hair and leathery brown skin. Many find service as pirates or enforcers, and you suspect the first one mentioned - Qorro - had similar origins. He is stupid and violent, though he never fails to follow your orders on the few occasions you've had reason to give them. Hacna, the other Weequay, is a bit more talented - though far less agreeable. She doesn't speak a word of Basic, and conveniently loses whatever translator droids are provided to her. She's a talented mechanic, but drags her feet even on the tasks Veredious himself gives her.

The second two names you recognize as those of the recently-acquired Twi'lek pair. Veredious bought both from the same estate sale on Nal Hutta, but the pair's similarities end there. Marama was a slave to the Hutt who owned her, almost certainly originally acquired for use as a sex slave - until she received a horrendous facial scar that puts your own Tuk'ata claw marks to shame. You don't know how she got it, and you never asked.

The other Twi'lek, Olub'cree, was also a slave - though of a far more prestigious variety. The old man served as majordomo for the Hutt who owned him, a privileged position that put him in direct contact with anyone the Hutt did business with. All sorts of people, from all walks of life - from Aqualish bounty hunters to the most upstanding of Mid Rim shipping merchants. You're sure it was an interesting life, but you're even more positive that it was a very long one. The Twi'lek's faded purple skin is mottled with sores and bruises, and his shuffling walk is one that nearly rivals Lord Hostay's for lack of speed.

Do you want to take Lord Veredious up on his offer of a servant? You can always kick them out of your service later. Each one may come in handy in different ways, both because of what they can do and who they are.

Post in order of preference, or just your first choice. Or 'None'. It's up to you.
>>
>>2220884
1. Scarred sex alien
2. big dumb bruiser
3. lazy alien
4. old sex alien
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>>2220884
Hacna seems difficult to work with but at least useful maybe she will remember her place after being reminded of it violently.
>>
>>2220884
Hacna
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>>2220884
We should take Olub'cree for sure. I want all 4 of them though. Actually the Twi'lek sex slave doesn't really serve a purpose so skip her
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>>2220884
Hacna
Qorro
Marama
Olub'cree
>>
>>2220884
Hacna
>>
Seems no one wants Olub'cree so I'll make a case for him. It was said he has dealt with all the people who came into contact with his Hutt master. This mean he probably knows a lot of useful people. The dude has contacts and information. Sounds like something that could end up being useful
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>>2220884
I doubt any if them well help much in this mission, maybe the mechanic if she weren't so useless. So may add well take the old guy and try to get some useful info out of him for reasons.
>Olub'cree
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>>2220926
I wouldn't say he has contacts I would agree he may have information but how useful it is to us is up in the air. His only real use is as a diplomat which we already to ourselves.
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>>2220884
I'd imagine that we end up in some storm planet in search of right type of dirt...mechanic in ship could save our lives, or atleast keep us inside the deadline.
But...
An old man who knows a lot of people can help more than one lazy tech.

>Olub'cree
>>
Ideally we could use our pheromone/telepathy to motivate the lazy mechanic
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My argument for scarred sex alien is that she's the only one who wasn't listed with a major flaw or without an immediate upside.

She's essentially mystery box choice.
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>>2220884
"Hacna could prove useful," you reason. "I'm not much of a technician... or a pilot."

"If that's your choice," Veredious says. His voice carries a disappointed tinge that tells you it was a good decision - shiftless layabout or not, Hacna is one of the few skilled technicians at the manor. The next time the estate's electric perimeter breaks down and a pack of Mawvorrs stalk the grounds, Veredious will have to call someone in from nearby Voss-Ka.

But even as you settle on the Weequay mechanic, your mind turns to the aged Twi'lek and his knowledge-filled mind. Someone to smooth over mechanical troubles has obvious value on a journey through space, but there are more subtle dangers to keep in mind. Depending on where you end up, having a silver-tongued companion with extensive knowledge of alien cultures and protocol could mean entering where would otherwise be forbidden, and making friends of those who would otherwise be hostile to a wandering Sith.

As you mull over the possible scenarios that could arise in your journey, your thoughts dart to related possibilities - namely, the fact that there is no reason you have to travel under your usual cover of a Sith diplomat's aide.

"Think it over!" Veredious says, clapping his hands and then spreading them outward. "You don't have to decide immediately."

You frown. "I would like to leave as soon as possible."

"And you *can*," he stresses. "But the Fury won't be repaired and fueled for another twelve hours."

"Repaired?" you exclaim, eyes going wide. "What happened?"
>>
>>2220993
But do you really trust her? At least Olob'cree is too old for his sex alien-ness to come into play. Can't trust those sex aliens man.
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>>2221001
He shakes his head and waves a hand dismissively. "Minor repairs. Nothing serious." Sidestepping the question entirely, he takes the box of lightsaber hilts and goes to leave the room.

Your eyes remain fixed on the dark wood container, but your mind isn't stuck on your choice of hilt - you are confident in your choice. You can't stop thinking about the crystal that will soon go inside of it.

"Master," you call after him, the word leaving your mouth before you even realize. He turns to face you, and you swallow. "Finding a natural crystal is anathema to the Sith philosophy."

It's not a question, but Veredious can see you have something more to say, and he nods.

"But if I *took* such a crystal from another... would I not be claiming it with my own power."

He narrows his eyes thoughtfully before cracking a smile. "Are you going to kill a Jedi for one?"

You start to speak, then stop. Maybe that is what you had in mind - but you weren't seriously considering it as an option. You're not sure why you asked.

"In good time, Apprentice!" He once again turns to leave, giving a short wave with his free hand as he goes.

The Fury's repairs at Voss-Ka's starport leave you with some time to settle between Hacna and Olub'cree. The matter of the lightsaber crystal continues to weigh on your mind, but there aren't any alternatives to seriously consider. The creation of a synthetic crystal has been prepared for you - all that's left to do is find the materials and carry it out. Even if you desired a natural crystal, you wouldn't know where to begin looking for one.
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>>2221004
Traveling through space without a skilled pilot and mechanic is really dumb. My vote still goes to Hacna
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>>2221004
Still voting Hacna we are a good enough diplomat ourselves.
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>>2221010
Same here
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>>2221004
Hacna
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>>2221004
Alright if we only get one choice then Hanca it is
>>
Olub'cree could link us up to repair services and has generally surprising many uses..Hacna only comes up when something goes wrong.
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>>2221028
My thoughts are old men are either incredibly useless for having stayed safe so long or incredibly useful for having survived so long. It's hard to tell which until you see them actually doing shit.
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>>2221004
After directing one of the servants to pack enough belongings for an extended trip, you get to work finding a suitable planet on which to begin your search. Two weeks is enough to visit several planets, but your time is far from unlimited - and you do not want to miss your window with the Geomorphic Compressor. Your starting point lies in the manor's databanks, which are contained within a windowless room in a corner of the complex.

Holonet access on Voss is intermittent at best, and Lord Veredious hates nothing more than being cut off from the outside world - or at least, its knowledge. As a brilliantly simple stopgap solution, he simply loaded a good chunk of the Reclamation Service's data archives onto storage devices and shipped them from Dromund Kaas to Voss. Such an act is undoubtedly a breach of several security protocols, but its too mundane and bureaucratic a violation for anyone to give him any trouble over.

You sit down at one of the computer terminals linked to the four walls of blinking servers, and plug in the datapad Veredious gave you. The terminal flashes to life, and you bring up the report detailing optimal mineral content before launching into the poorly-organized hierarchy of folders and files containing information on countless thousands of worlds. You begin with the assumption that your task will be easy - if time-consuming. But the more you look, the more you realize that the IRS' planetary reports simply don't have what you're looking for. They're concerned with history and ancient populations, not the sort of hard data that would include detailed geological reports.

This is a challenging task which will put your knowledge to the test. You could attempt to complete it now, but doing so would more likely than not result in failure - and you would not be able to try again until you found substantial new information to aid you.

You tell yourself to *think*. There must be some way of at least narrowing down the worlds that could possibly play host to the right minerals for Kyber crystal formation. You have the servers' knowledge of galactic history at your fingertips, as well as your own deductive reasoning.
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>>2221072

Let's go meet Hacna and get to know it. We can interract with the slaves and get some opinions. I think a mechanic is still a better option to but if we really wabt a natural crystal Olub would be a wiser choise.

Also start looking at the datapad our master gave us let's see were we can find something usefull and then once we know were to go we make our minion choise.
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>>2221072
Sort the planets by where the most force-related (if not just sith) artifacts were found in the past within an acceptable distance to travel to keep our timeframe
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>>2221091
That's a clever one
>>
>They're concerned with history and ancient populations

Let's try to narrow down places with history of populations encountry or dealling with Sith or Jedi. Most likely it will have a reference about a sith or dark jedi looking for some crystals
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>>2221101
Good idea
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>>2221072
Lets focus on searching on the planets with low population and mining indrustry first.
Other than that, we could look through the servants for anyone that has travelled a lot or has some background with geological studies

I know next to nothing about the dirt we are looking, but my quess is that the planet needs to be "violent" one, and that leads to low or non population at planet
>>
Don't we need a high enough concentration of carbon too? I actually don't know anything about synthetic crystal formation.
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>>2221087
The slaves wouldn't know anything about this sort of thing.
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>>2221107
>my quess is that the planet needs to be "violent" one, and that leads to low or non population at planet

that's very shaky logic. If there were never many people there, there could also have never been a great deal of conflict.
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>>2221072
Look for planets with mining industries, both current and historic. The sith collect tax, right?
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>>2221072
You check the datapad just to make sure, but there's nothing of note on there besides the single file your Master showed you. Continuing your search in the only way you know how, you focus on those planets on which the artifacts of Force-sensitive Orders have been found. Unfortunately, that is most of the planets contained within the IRS files, being that the recovery of those artifacts is their primary mandate. You make a note to focus on those planets within a reasonable distance, but that narrowing down will have to come later.

Pausing for a moment, you consider where you *know* Kyber crystals have formed - the grassy agricultural planet of Dantooine. It lies firmly within Republic space, and is famous solely for the fact that natural crystals are sometimes found there. It's not the Jedi Order's main source of crystals, though. *That* place is a closely-guarded secret, one which the entire Empire would love to learn. It's possible that Dantooine still hosts the type of mineral deposits that result in crystal formation, but the point is moot - you would never be able to reach it in time, even if you *could* pass safely into Republic space.

And what if those conditions are no longer there? You consider how crystals are formed - not just Kyber crystals, but all types. They form under extreme heat and pressure, on ill-populated planets that are anathema to sentient life. If that is the type of place you need to go, it's unlikely information on such a planet will be in the IRS' databanks. They deal with those planets that have a living past, not the ones with a dead present.
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>>2221157
Returning to your earlier consideration of which nearby planets have had the greatest concentration of Force-sensitive artifacts, your mind falls on a very obvious candidate - Voss. The planet you are now in is a rigid, caste-based society, ruled by infallible priests who claim to be able to use the Force to see into the future. The idea seems absurd, but both the Republic and Empire have established diplomatic missions on the planet to try to bring them into the fold. There is also the undeniable fact that the Voss people have a startlingly high rate of Force-sensitivity among them. It is often weak, but it is more common than in most species.

The problem with Voss as a possibility is that you have never heard or seen anything that would hint at the presence of Kyber crystals. It's possible the raw materials are present for such a thing, but that's just as likely as any other planet. Still, you're already here - and the Imperial diplomatic mission is near the starport. Heading over there and seeing if there's someone who could help you is a possibility. You don't particularly like the idea of walking around the forests of Voss to take soil samples. There will be officials there who can give you more information than the kind you have - possibly people with access to records on Imperial mining operations.

Which reminds you - you need to find a way to take soil samples.

If anyone in this place has a device for testing mineral content lying around, it will be Hacna. You consider asking her thoughts on the matter, but there's a chance she will have 'lost' whichever translator droid was last forced upon her.
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>>2221159
Well, may as well try her. Pretty much the only lead at this point. If she's unhelpful, we can start training her to be more respectful of a slave.
>>
Checking for specific mining industries (I.E. a planet noted for mining gold for example) that coincide with similar mineral elements would probably be the most solid way to go. There should be some more scarce minerals that are similar to more common types, or occur in similar conditions to another exploitable mineral that a normal mining industry would pursue.

We don't necessarily need to find the exact mineral composition we are looking for on a planet so much as we need to find something similar enough to suggest what we need. Like sifting for gold in a river would tell you there is or at least was a gold deposit of some size upstream.
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>>2221159
Let's go try find Hacna first then.
Also to be clear I wanted to see which planets had the most artifacts as a starting point instead of just any planet where any number of artifacts were found.
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>>2221159
Well seeing Hacna first won't cost us anything.

After that we should go hunting people that have experience with mining operations..as we can find the needed decides there and most likely get some information too.
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>>2221159
You leave the databank room and begin looking for Hacna. It's a short search - you find the Weequay outside the manor, in an open-air building once used as Uxibeast stables. Now, it holds mounts of a different kind - several land cruisers, one of which Hacna is busy working on. The fact that she's working at *all* leaves you loathe to disturb her, but you approach and knock on the cruiser's hull. She closes the component panel she was working inside of, and turns to face you.

Her wrinkled brown face is half-hidden under a pair of bulky goggles, and you tap your face in silent indication that she should remove them. Her bone spike-lined jaw twitches, and she reluctantly pushes the goggles up her forehead. Her light-blue flight suit is covered in greasy smears, as are her work gloves. She glares at you, stripping the gloves from her hands before tossing them to the ground.

"What?" she snaps. "What? What?" Her voice is a harsh croak, giving the impression of an old woman with a cold. But judging from the few times you've heard Qorro speak, that's simply how Weequay sound. Hacna's age is a mystery to you.

You're glad to see that Hacna *can* speak a word of Basic, but you're not too happy about the tone. You came here to obtain her help, but putting her in her place has been a long time coming.
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>>2221184
Force slap a ho.
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>>2221184
tone smone.

Present the command. We need a sampler device for dirt.

If she doesn't snap to, then escalate.
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>>2221184
Ask for sampler device, if the tone continues we can put her in her place

...although not angering the person who takes care of our ship during the next two weeks sounds good also
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>>2221184
There's no translator droid here right?
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>>2221192
We have to travel alone with her, I don't think that's the best way to start things off
>>2221193
>>2221200
I'm pretty sure she won't understand what we're asking. We need a translator.
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>>2221184
Use Zeltron emotion Pheremones to make her less of a bitch
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>>2221247
Hey, my first instinct was to choke the fuck out of her, so I think it's a better start than you think. Of course I might just really not like her attitude. "Say 'what' again motherfucker"
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>>2221252
I don't really know the true extent of our abilities but could we sort of communicate with her that way? It's a good idea for sure though. She's probably not trained in detecting that sort of influence.
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>>2221184
"Droid!" You shout at her, clenching your fist and raising it beside your head. "U4!"

She pulls back defensively at the expectation you're about to punch her, but relaxes when she realizes your fist is meant to mimic the line of spherical interpreter droids she goes through like candy.

"Well?" you say. Hacna shrugs.

You lower your arm and look around the room, searching for the wayward droid. Asking her anything of substance without it is downright impossible. The makeshift garage is littered with tools and electronics of all kinds - it's possible she simply gutted the thing and stuck the parts in a cruiser. Then, your eyes return to Hacna, and the ball-shaped lump she is tapping at in a pocket of her jumpsuit. You walk towards her, backing her into a tool table while she shouts all sorts of protests.

"Suhhea!" she shouts, gripping the table behind her to steady the rattling frame. "E'Zahay! Fa'Wua!"

You ignore the alien's incomprehensible croaks and jam a hand into her flight suit pocket, then pull out a round white droid a bit bigger than your fist.

"Oh," Hacna mutters.

"Yeah.. 'Oh'." You step away from her and drop the droid into her hands. "Switch it on."

She huffs an annoyed sigh but obeys, pressing a series of buttons on the droid that has it beeping to life and assuming a position in the air beside her head.

"Is it working?" you say. As you speak, the droid whispers softly in her ear with its directional speakers, translating your words into that of the guttural Weequay language.

Hacna spits out another few words you can't quite understand, and the droid fixes you with a robotic, but firm 'Yes.'

"I need a soil sampler. Something to determine mineral content."

She lets out another huff to let you know how badly she's taking this intrusion on her time, then shakes her head and heads to the far end of the workshop.

"You should have just said so," she mutters just loud enough to hear. With her back turned to you, you slowly level your outstretched hand at the woman and feel the crackle of electric current as it jumps from finger to finger. She stops at one of the work tables and picks up something, then walks back to you while you reluctantly lower your arm. In her hands is what looks almost like a medical diagnostic device, with a scanner and computer screen mounted to a blaster handle.
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>>2221259
"Homemade," she says, fixing you with a stern glare and an accusing finger. "Be careful! Be gentle!"

You return her glare with a furious one of your own and snatch the device from her.

"Does it work?"

She laughs. "He asks if it works!"

You frown at what you can only assume is the Weequay's way of responding with an unequivocal 'yes'. Even interpreter droids have trouble with racial idioms.

"Be ready to leave in an hour," you say to her.

"Leave?" she gasps. "Why? For doing what?"

You're still not sure if you want to take her with you, but there's no harm in making her prepare ahead of time. If you decide to take Olub'cree instead, the only time you've wasted is that of Hacna. It's a win-win for you.

"Just get ready!" you shout back at her as you leave. She chases after, stopping at the threshold of the garage bay.

"Oh, I will be ready!" she spits back. The interpret droid puts a threatening tone over the words, one you're sure the Weequay's original voice carried. Still, you're not quite sure what she means.

"And don't lose that goddamn droid!" you call out, rounding a corner of the main building and falling out of sight of the garage. Hacna shouts something else at you, but the interpreter droid's directional speakers can no longer reach you. Once you're alone, you stoop down to the ground and dig up a clump of grass, exposing Voss' rich brown soil. You point the device Hacna gave you at the dirt and pull the trigger, making a thin white light run up and down as a series of evenly-timed beeps comes from the device.

The light disappears, and the viewscreen on top lights up. Displayed on it is a basic readup on the soil's composition - water content, nitrogen, oxygen, and 'other minerals' - nowhere near detailed enough for your needs. The screen flickers, and you tap it. When the display rights itself, you find that you've just tapped a touchscreen. 'Other minerals' has expanded into a length, scrollable listing of all sorts of rock deposits and iron oxide variants. You stand up and pull your datapad from your belt, then compare the mineral specifications Veredious gave you to that of the Voss soil. It's nowhere near appropriate for your needs, but you've confirmed that Hacna's scanner will suit your needs. You just need to know where to search.

Is it time to visit the Imperial diplomatic mission in the capital city of Voss-Ka? Or do you want to speak to Olub'cree first? In the interest of time efficiency, it would be best to leave for Voss-Ka when you're prepared to board the Fury and depart. Or maybe there's something more you want to check in the IRS' artifact databases. You'll have public holonet access on your journey, but no access to the private information of the service you work for.
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>>2221264
Can we see which planets has had the most ancient lightsabers recovered on it?
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>>2221264
Wait, how about the planets which are visited by sith apprentices the most often?
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>>2221276
Or at least sith apprentices who eventually became historically relevant.
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>>2221264
Returning to the databank room and the computer terminal within, you sit down for a bit more searching. You've had time for some more ideas to take solid shape, and you begin putting them to use.

First is to check for planets where ancient lightsabers were recovered - not just Force cult artifacts, but specifically weapons believed to contain actual Kyber crystals. If a pre-hyperspace civilization had been building weapons that used such crystals, they would like have done so with materials from their own planet, or perhaps nearby celestial fields.

There's some little piece of historical knowledge related to this topic you can't quite bring to mind - it should be easy to get unstuck. Roll me 1d6.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>2221303
>>
Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>2221303
Fucking words.
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>>2221305
...fuck.
I'm starting to think this is too hard.
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>>2221264
I'd speak with Olub'cree before departing, we are not likely to come back anytime soon.
Lets ask if he knows where we can find imperial mining experts or planetary researches.
They would be best information about planets, that might have right type of soil.

Of the artifact database, we can look for places where geomorphic compressors and lightsabers have been found...I'd think an compressors would be placed on a planet with the right type of soil for effience saber building.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>2221303
Give me 6!
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>>2221309
probably easier to kill a jedi
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>>2221318
Dude. Think about it. The first one is obvious and with the second one I was hoping we could see where other sith apprentices went to find their own materials to make a crystal.
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>>2221303
>>2221312
The Tion Cluster - the thought comes to your mind with powerful finality, but you can't immediately understand why. The Great Jedi Library on Ossus was a center of Jedi learning, lying between Voss and Imperial Space - until it was ravaged by war between the Jedi Order and Exar Kun's so-called 'Sith Brotherhood'. The planet was ruined by the war, but is still an archaeological treasure trove - except no Kyber crystals have ever been found there. Nor do you know anything about the soil being suitable for synthetic creation of them.

Except Ossus isn't the only planet in the Tion cluster. Leaning back over the keyboard, you quickly navigate to the files on nearby planets, and Tion itself. That planet was originally settled by refugees from Coruscant over 20,000 years ago, and was cut off from the galaxy for thousands of years until they re-invented the hyperdrive engine. They were a primitive people, and they were war-like. What was strange about those wars was the fact that they were waged with *blaster* weapons, despite how primitive the rest of their technology was. Only bits and pieces of such devices have been discovered, nowhere near enough to figure out how they actually functioned. What is known of those early wars comes from Tion's own written records, which are also sparse.

It's strange, but it isn't the only occasion when pre-hyperspace civilizations discovered advanced weaponry. In fact, the Jedi themselves did - with the lightsaber. Could Tion's blasters have been powered by Kyber crystals? Such a thing was more than possible, assuming you have a reliable and portable power source to affix to the crystal. The only reason it wasn't done more often was because of how expensive the production of Kyber crystals still is. Traditional blasters are nearly as effective, and far cheaper to mass-produce. But if that was the only means of producing advanced weaponry available to the Tionese, maybe they had done it anyway, cost be damned.
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>>2221312
>>2221400
It's a thought, anyway. There is one issue to verifying your theory before actually *going* there - the planet was ravaged by a supernova millennia ago, the same one that scorched the entire cluster. The planet is still intact, but that's all that can be said for it. There are no mining ventures, no settlements, and no archaeological digs - just a dead rock with enough gravitational pull remaining to barely hold an atmosphere.

Sitting back in your chair with a sigh, you tilt your head up to the ceiling. What you need to find is somewhere with an ancient Geomorphic Compressor, such as the one your Master just located on the farm world of Nez Peron near Dromund Kaas. Such elaborate and bulky devices would presumably be set up in locations that also provided the materials to feed them.

You feel as if the answer is staring you right in the face, but you can't quite grasp it. Tion is a possibility you are seriously considering, but it is close enough to Voss for you to make it one of your secondary places of search. You'd rather avoid visiting such a dangerous planet.
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>>2221405
Maybe we could track down meteors from Tion on surrounding planets that may have been dislodged and propelled in a certain direction by the supernova
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>>2221405
Ok so we should obviously check the planet of Nez Peron considering the answer is staring us in the face


>What you need to find is somewhere with an ancient Geomorphic Compressor, such as the one your Master just located on the farm world of Nez Peron near Dromund Kaas. Such elaborate and bulky devices would presumably be set up in locations that also provided the materials to feed them.
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>>2221437
We are going there anyway, so it's not important, although some planets near Nez Peron could be possible places too.

Running out of ideas and need to get some sleep, good luck.
>>
I'm liking how we actually have to think hard about this but I feel like I'm not quite knowledgeable enough about the star wars universe for it
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>>2221405
You let out a long groan and lurch forward, your head almost hitting the computer screen.

Nez Peron. It's so obvious. Even modern Geomorphic Compressors are the size of land cruisers - ancient ones likely had *buildings* constructed to house them. If an ancient incarnation of the Sith Empire had constructed such a device in the heat of war, it would have been somewhere where logistics and supply lines weren't an issue. Somewhere where the raw materials for Kyber crystal synthesis were lying all around them.

Tion remains in the back of your mind as another option to consider, but Nez Peron fits far too neatly. No doubt the simplicity of the solution was meant to teach you a lesson, though the meaning of it still eludes you.

You still have quite some time before the Fury will be prepared for launch, so you decide to track down Olub'cree and probe his thoughts on the matter. It's doubtful the old Twi'lek has any special insights to offer, but another point of view never hurts. You find him within the building's kitchen, seated in a corner of the room while a human and Twi'lek woman dart about preparing food - for their recently-returned owner, you assume.

"My Lord," he rasps out, spotting you the moment you pass through the doorway across from him. If there's one thing that can be said for him - and not about Hacna - it is that he is eminently respectful. A Twi'lek does not survive decades of service to a Hutt by being disrespectful.

Your first instinct is to simply explain your task and ask for insight, but you're not sure what consequence it could have with your Master. Would he look poorly upon you lowering yourself to asking a slave for aid, even if it's only a few words of advice? Olub'cree would have no reason not to reveal the fact to Veredious - the Twi'lek is, after all, first and foremost your Master's servant. Not yours - at least, not yet.
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>>2221538
I don't really have any questions for this guy personally.

Do the qualities of synthetic crystals change much based on the qualities of the material used to form them? It might be worth getting a couple different samples if so.
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>>2221561
>Do the qualities of synthetic crystals change much based on the qualities of the material used to form them?

The materials are standardized, and usually provided directly to apprentices by their Master - this is why you found it so strange to be told to find the materials on your own. There will be opportunity to bend the crystal to a color and type of your choosing, but that will come during the process of forming it.
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>>2221538
Yeah, I really don't have much for him either.
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>>2221574
So I like the idea of getting it from a dangerous dead planet with kyber crystal-related history. Seems at least somewhat dark side-y. But if there's no benefit that we know of then I guess we should just do the easy and safe option.
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>>2221538
You rethink the idea of revealing your task to Olub'cree, and stand before him silently for a few moments. The soft *hiss* of air comes from a respirator attached to the Twi'lek's back, and he uses the breathing mask in his hand to take in a long gulp of air before lowering it back down.

"Was there something you required of me, my Lord?"

You purse your lips and shake your head. "No."

With that you turn to leave, but a halting gasp from behind you stops your short. You turn to see Olub'cree trying to speak, but the sudden exclamation gave him a coughing fit. It is only with great difficult and a steadying hand held to his chest that he manages to once again speak.

"There is an art to receiving answers without asking questions."

You re-approach him, watching the hunched Twi'lek uneasily as he looks up at you with two sunken eyes.

"Is that so?"

He nods. "In fact, it is the best way to conduct one's investigations, if possible."

You consider his words. He's still waiting for a question, but maybe he is hinting that you can ask him a less... sensitive one than you originally had in mind. One that does not reveal the task your Master gave you.

"Alright." You lean your weight on one foot and fold your arms. "And if you're forced to ask questions? Who would you ask?"

"Someone with experience," Olub'cree replies smoothly. "As in all things, the ones who have been somewhere know the way best."

At first, all you can think of is your Master - and he made clear that he wasn't going to reveal where to get the proper materials. But your Master can't be the only one to know where they are gathered - as far as you know, such a topic isn't even a closely-guarded bit of knowledge, just a very esoteric one. You could ask any lightsaber-owning Sith and obliquely inquire as to the means of their crystal's construction.

Despite how vague and directionless your question was, Olub'cree's answer was remarkably on-point. You idly wonder at the idea that he has planted a listening device on you or Veredious, but quickly discard that notion in favor of the one that he is simply that sharp - an even more shocking thought.

You're fed up with academic investigation - you want a lightsaber crystal. You have two possible planets in mind. Would you like to visit Tion first, or Nez Peron? If Tion fails to provide you with a crystal, you will have time to visit two additional planets between there and your final visit to Nez Peron. Visiting Nez Peron and then *revisiting* Nez Peron to forge the crystal would be more time-consuming. In that scenario, you would have time to visit one additional planet after Nez Peron and Tion.

You should also have had time to feel out Olub'cree and Hacna. Does either seem like a useful traveling companion?
>>
>>2221633
I'd say we should at least check out Tion to see if it seems viable. I'm still on board with Hacna.
>>
>>2221633
Tion first

Hacna still more useful
>>
>>2221633
>Nez Peron

>Bring Hacna
>>
>>2221633
tion first

Hacna still for the THIRD fucking time.
>>
>>2221633
Your short discussion with Olub'cree was interesting, but he is far too old and infirm to take to a planet like Tion, your first port of call. You settle on Hacna, rationalizing that her technical prowess is far more likely to come in handy. Tion is a dead planet, and Nez Peron is an Imperial world - Olub'cree would not be able to help you on the first, and he will not need to on the second.

The servants have finished packing up your belongings, and loaded them up into a covered land cruiser outside the manor. Hacna is nowhere to be seen, and you direct the servants to go find her. It takes a good ten minutes, but they eventually produce the Weequay. Another ten minutes are spent having those same servants go to Hacna's quarters and pack her belongings - the belongings you had told her to pack an hour ago. When they finally arrive at the speeder with her bag, Hacna rummages through it and declares through her interpreter droid that they did not include the necessary electronics toolkit from her workshop. By the end of it all, you're ready to snap her in two.

Letting out a groan of mixed frustration and disgust, you walk away from the speeder as Hacna rushes back to her workshop. The sight of the forested suburbs around the manor calms you somewhat, the cool breeze rustling every leaf in a quiet chorus. On a path below you, orange-robed Voss march in a slow line, heads bowed and hands folded as they make their way from one holy site to another. There are countless such locations around the capital of Voss-Ka - a five minute speeder ride outside the city could have you flying right into a 'holy grove' or 'blessed pond'. You would not be shocked to one day awake to find that a cadre of priests have declared your bedroom sacred ground.
>>
>>2221888
Their peculiar brand of Force-based religion amuses you, mostly because of how opaque it is to you, as an outsider. The Sith way of life is hardly a 'religion' - to even call it a philosophy is to put it on too unreachable a pedestal. The power of the Sith code - and everything that flows from the code - is in its applicability. Every day of your life has demonstrated its truth to you. Even in those dark times where it seems to have momentarily failed to mesh with reality, you later realize that it is *you* who failed *it*.

But the Voss... They worship their elders because they have always done so. They follow the elders' 'visions' because they have always done so. The Jedi in all their folly at least *claim* to follow a code that leads to fulfillment. The Voss have nothing but mindless duty and tradition.

"Well?" comes a robotic woman's voice from behind you. You turn to see Hacna tossing a second bag into the back seat of the cruiser, presumably whatever tools she just grabbed from her workshop.

"You say we are leaving!" she shouts as she slides into the car, snatching the U4 droid from the air as she does so. "Then why we not leave?"

Righteous anger washes over you, and you finger the slave collar in your tunic pocket. This is as good a time as any.

Do you demand Hacna wear the slave collar you've acquired? It is synced to your wrist-bound computer and will give you the ability to shock her at will. It will also prevent her from venturing too far from you - a distance you can specify - without enduring endless shocks that eventually result in death. You don't trust Hacna as far as you can throw her, and you certainly don't want her without a leash when you're venturing through space.
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>>2221891
Yep. If anybody needs it it's her. It'd be good to try to influence her with our racial control over emotions too though so maybe one day she won't need it.
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>>2221891
Could't we just influence her with our natural abilities? If those aren't reliable just get the collar.
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>>2221891
>Yes

Put a leash on that B.
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>>2221891
Yes, Why even ask she is a slave and must be collared.
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>>2221903
The collar would force her to stay close to us and so exposing her for a longer time with our ability
>>
Actualy why are we doing that? We could just force choke or force shock her ass. No need for a collar
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>>2221938
This keeps her from ditching us on an uninhabitable planet. She's the pilot here.
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>>2221903
Because collars are her fetish and she wants MC to bend her over her work table and shove his power emitter into her energy coupling. Duh.
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>>2221948
Couldn't we just keep a watch on her? I know we would need to sleep but not like we can do anything if we ever went to sleep she could slit our throat.
>>
>>2221891
You pull the slave collar from your pocket as you walk towards the cruiser.

"Get out," you say to Hacna. She reluctantly slides out of the cruiser, and you back her up against it before she can get away from you.

"Don't move." With the unlatched collar gripped in your hands, you lift it towards her neck. Hacna's frown deepens to a scowl and she raises her hand as if to slap the thing away, but you return her glare with a very deadly one of her own. "This happens now, or *after* I shock you myself."

The moment the interpreter droid finishes translating for her, Hacna puts her arm back by her side, allowing you to slap the collar on. You check your wrist to make sure that the thing is locked and active, then wave Hacna into the cruiser. One of the other female human servants takes the driver's seat, and a minute later the three of you are off the manor grounds and navigating the narrow streets of Voss-Ka's wealthy outskirts. Though it's the planet's capital, it isn't a large city. The buildings become bigger and more tightly-packed, domed mansions of bronzed roofing and beige walls giving way to the durasteel and permacrete megaliths of the government district.

A war is waged here every day, between Empire and Republic - a war of words. Each seeks to bring the Voss over to their side, but the colorfully-skinned people are in no hurry to act. One might think that they're cunningly playing both sides for a better deal, but you have dealt with enough Voss to recognize that this is simply how they come to decisions - very, very slowly. When you reach the city's starport, your servant grabs a hoversled and begins loading your bags onto it as you and Hacna make your way to the Fury's docking bay. The advantage of hired help - willing or no - is that all of the little things happen in the background. Securing customs papers, paying the docking fee, making sure the ship's cargo stock is replenished - you don't have to give a thought to any of that.

Well, until something goes wrong. And then you can simply punish the offender, and it's less likely to happen again.
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>>2221988
I just think if she wants to escape her slavery being out in space with an apprentice and nobody else would be her best opportunity
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>>2222026
Voss-Ka may only have a single starport, but it was split into two sections shortly after being built. Imperial and Republic troops got into fights constantly, and their superiors were more than happy to agree to the change. Your ship is in one of the Imperial bays, and you quickly find it with help from one of the Empire's uniformed Attendants.

"Repairs and fueling are complete, my Lord." He bows and points a hand at the docking bay door, which opens before the three of you. 'My Lord,' he says. One of the perks of being a full-fledged Sith, if only a cosmetic one. You aren't truly a Lord yet, not until your apprenticeship is complete - but non-Sith make a habit of using the most respectful form of address possible, even with an apprentice. They fear you, they respect you, and most of all, they envy you.

The Fury is waiting for you, a mean-looking ship of black and gray that looks ill at home in the gentle brown walls of Voss' starport.

"Get on board," you tell Hacna. She obeys without protest, seeming to recognize the reality of her situation. Either that, or you're getting the silent treatment - something you're perfectly capable of living with.

Your other servant arrives with your bags and digital customs papers, which she transfers over to your wrist computer with her datapad. With that finalized, there's nothing left to do but board your ship and get it into orbit. Your belongings are stored in the ship, and you go to search out wherever Hacna has put herself. The ship is roomy, but it's only an interceptor. The reason it takes you so long to find her is that she's in the very last room you thought to check - the ship's single bedroom.

One of her bags lies open on the floor near the bed, and Hacna herself faces one of the walls with her hands raised. At first you have no idea what she could possibly be doing. Then, you see the soldering irons and wrenches swinging back and forth on the wire rack she is attempting to affix to the bedroom wall.

You want to shock her, and then tell her to get you into orbit.
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>>2222034
>Don't shock her just tell her you want to go to orbit she already got it her situation with the collor just use it when she messes up. Makes the punishment hurt more when she's not expecting to be.
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>>2222034
>Ask her what she is doing and if she plans on sleeping with us in the room.
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>>2222034
What can we actually do with our Zeltron powers? If at all possible I'd like to rely on those for situations like these and save the shocks for more extreme situations.
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>>2222034
Also if there's a more appropriate room for a workshop onboard then send her there.
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>>2222054
>What can we actually do with our Zeltron powers?

An ability to sense someone's general emotional state. Deeper than body language, but not true mind-reading.

You're also more persuasive when within close physical proximity to someone, which on a dice roll level means easier attempts to produce a desired reaction in someone (make them fear you, make them like you, make them want to help you).

I should probably write this up in the google docs character sheet
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You manage to summon the patience to stay your hand and calmly ask Hacna what exactly she plans on turning your bedroom into.

"What are you doing?" you say.

She turns to you with the rack of tools in her hands and holds it up, as if that explains her actions.

"You're *not* sleeping here," you say firmly. She glances over at the whispering droid beside her head, then frowns.

"So, what? No bed for Hacna?"

You let out a laugh. "You think I'm going to sleep in the engine room and you're going to take this ship's only bedroom?"

All she does is give you a blank stare that says that was *exactly* what she thought. You use the Force to pull the rack of tools from her hands, then drop it into the hallway. Next is her bag, which you slide out of the room as she chases after it. As she rushes past you, you grab her by the arm and bring her face to yours.

"I've inspected the ship, and I found a room much better than this one. It's very spacious, and just like your workshop." You speak slowly, feeling the surge of emotions within her that respond to your unwanted touch. You press down on those emotions, seeking to calm her enough that she will accept your suggestion.

Which room do you stick her in? Roll me a 1d6 to see if your Zeltronian persuasion succeeds.
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Rolled 6 (1d6)

>>2222118
For power!!
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Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>2222118
Kek, our bedroom or cargo.
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>>2222128
Oh yeah don't we have a room bear the engines or something? Put a bumker there or something
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Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>2222118
>It's very spacious, and just like your workshop.

So, sounds like the confrence room or cargo hold?

Kinda hard to read the schematic.
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>>2222128
Unlimited PHEROMONES!
>>
Oh yeah, I forgot this was TOR and we were a neon faggot.

Not totally writing it off though.
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>>2222300
Never trust a sex alien.
>>
We just missed checking out Voss more throughfully, the holy sites could have been possible places to find something, or just asking from local geologist about the Voss.
Neither did we really didin't listen to the Olub'crees advice of finding people who have more experience than us.

Now we have just a holonet and random people that we can resort on.
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>>2222575
and a mechanic to bully
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>>2222575
>hey apprentice, here's the keys to the ship. go have fun.
>no master, I will stay here on this same planet I've been on and I will have no adventures or fun.
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>>2222601
>hey apprentice why didin't you use 10 minutes to check the planet you already were, instead of running to the other side of galaxy in wild goose-chase, with no goals in mind
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>>2222612
That is some pretty absurd exaggeration friendo
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>>2222614
Not really. And being passive aggressive makes your opinion worthless.
>>
We have two medicore candidate planets for checking out, instead of full four.
What are we going to do if both turn out to be waste of time, come back here? Not with that deadline breathing on our neck.
Yes, we ran out of ideas with database, but we better have some form of backup plan or we are no better than Jedi
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>>2222654
>>2222666

We followed the plot hooks given to us. The words "obvious" were used. It was pointed out that they only make these machines where the shit they require for light sabers can be found. Seems pretty clear that we've gone to the right place...
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>>2222666
>two medicore candidate planets

One is were the cruise sized machine is and another were used to be a high activity of force users. If you think cleary Tiron new conditiin would allow gor renewed deposits of crystals. Since the civilization that lived there was to primitive to have blasters but still managed to use produce then.

Shut up satan unless you have a better idea were we can find the crystals.
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>>2222300
>Oh yeah, I forgot this was TOR and we were a neon faggot.

t. Mouse shill
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>>2222118
"A better room?" Hacna says doubtfully. The frustration and anger boiling within her lower to a mere simmer, and you point across the ship to the hallway on the other side of the command center.

"Yes, the cargo bay. It looked just like your workshop." There, hopefully, she can get lost among the ration crates and backup ship parts. Not *too* lost, though - you still want her to pilot the ship when you're not simply journeying through hyperspace. Part of the advantage of bringing Hacna along is that she's perfectly capable of flying the Fury. The other three servants, not so much. Sitting Qorro at the controls would likely end up with the dumb brute jumping you straight into another planet's mass shadow.

You ease your grip on Hacna's arm, and she casts a weary eye your way before hauling her belongings off to the room you directed her to. With that dealt with, you make sure your other servant has stored everything else away properly before finding Hacna in the cargo bay and ordering her to the cockpit. There, you seat her down in the pilot's chair and have her bring you into orbit. The bay doors above you open, letting in Voss' gentle sunlight as you rise up and out of the starport. A minute later you're rocketing into orbit, soaring into an orange-tinted sky that gradually gives way to the glittering blackness of space.

"Chart a course for Tion," you tell her, watching as the Weequay punches in the system on the navigational computer. You stay long enough to make sure she does this right - the last thing you want is to waste a few days making a series of jumps to 'Deeon' because Hacna thought it'd be a good way to rebel against your heavy-handed rule. Once the Fury slips into hyperspace and the ship is overtaken by a comforting low roar, you return to your bedroom and begin sorting through your bags.

Your retractable vibrosword is there, as are a few shorter blades. No blasters, though. There's a few locked up tight in the ship's armory, but you're loathe to give Hacna the use of one. She shouldn't need it, anyway - nor should you need to make use of your blades. The sorts of dangers you'll face on Tion are environmental, not the sort that can be solved with violence. It's not a comforting thought, though - you've become quite adept at violence.

Is there anything you want to talk to Hacna about on the way there? Three days on a small craft is a long time, but you can always pass it in meditation and training while keeping a watchful eye on the Weequay.
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>>2222769
Meditate and train, no interest in talking to that slave
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>>2222770
Ask her about her capabilities in greater detail as well as where she learned them.

Hey OP when do we get to learn how to survive the vacuum of space and fly around like the great Jedi master princess Leia?
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>>2222770
Just meditate maybe we can atune more with the force and keep our force powers in check.
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>>2222770
>Meditate and train
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>>2222770
You pass the trip to Tion through meditation and channeling of your emotions, happy to keep Hacna out of sight and out of mind whenever possible. You briefly consider using her presence to inflame your anger so that you can practice controlling it, but decide you are not up to such a task. Hacna stays in the cargo bay you put her up in, and each time you enter the room you find that more of her tools and belongings have found their way out of her bags and onto workbenches and wall-mounted racks. It's a little unnerving to see the hold slowly become a replica of her workshop on Voss', but at least her chaos is contained.

Two and a half days after your departure from Voss, you reach the Tion system. A cracked planet of brown rock floats silently in space, growing ever nearer as Hacna pilots you two into its orbit. Directly behind it, the system's star lashes out across space, casting the planet in a corona of yellow.

Hundreds of years ago, back when the Jedi were fighting the result of yet another schism in their fragile Order, the nearby star of Cron had gone supernova, ravaging many nearby star clusters. There was no solid reason to think that the war and supernova were *related*, but their were always rumors - and still are. Where powerful Force users collide, catastrophe often follows.

Tion was far enough to escape total destruction, but the planet was left nearly uninhabitable. Rather than try to repair their broken world, the Tionese had simply left. The Tion Hegemony lives on in dozens of nearby systems between Hutt and Imperial space, but their namesake homeworld still lies empty.

"Where are we landing?" Hacna asks, pointing to the computer console to show that you're now in stable orbit of the planet. Ideally, you would like to conduct a thorough scan of the planet to try and track down an ideal site to test mineral deposits, but that would require some awfully specialized equipment - expensive, and time-consuming to acquire. You'll just have to pick a location the same way you settled on Tion itself - through educated guesswork.

"Show me a landscape," you say.

Hacna brings up a holographic map of the planet, one assembled back when the world was still habitable. Cities and starports are marked on various continents. You can spot the remains on the actual planet, blotches of gray barely visible against the brown rock beneath. They'll be little more than fields of twisted metal, though - and likely more treacherous than any natural area you could land in.

Which do you want to try first? A barren plateau or valley somewhere? Or one of the major cities? You want to test soil, so somewhere natural seems like the obvious choice. Cities tend to be built on the stuff, though.
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>>2223215
Try one of the cities first
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>>2223215
Let's try out a mountainous region first.

Wasn't this a largely aquatic planet at one point? Maybe a dried ocean floor would have what we need too.
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>>2223223
That kinda seems needlessly dangerous to me. Why do you wanna try out a city first? I was thinking that mountains and seafloors would have the most varied sediment so our chances would be better but I'm just guessing here. I'm no geologist.
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>>2223215
Another idea would be to find an area containing an old battlefield from the Jedi war
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>>2223215
A location of what used to be 'under' the ocean.
>>
I really hope we can find a viable sample here. The symbolism of a Jedi planet being completely and permanently wiped out by an insurmountable force sounds like something I'd like as the essence of a sith lightsaber.
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On second thought the ocean floor might be too salty. Or maybe it all changed due to the supernova. Only one way to find out I guess.
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>>2223215
Can we use the force to attempt to get an idea of where best to search? Or would that be a bit too Jedi?
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>>2223215
You direct Hacna to take you to a large, bowl-shaped expanse just on the edge of your view of the planet, a dry stretch of blasted land that used to hold part of Tion planet-spanning oceans. It's only dust now, but dust is just what you need. The closer you draw to the planet's cracked surface, the better its past comes into view - and not just because you can see the evidence of the supernova that ravaged it.

The deaths that happened here so many centuries ago scream at you from deep in the past, demanding to be heard by the first person to visit them in Emperor only knows how long. You think back to your training, and how the Sith instructors told you to channel your negative emotions into something useful - but there is nothing to channel. Just a cold, cloying emptiness that seeks to draw you down with it. You'd be best not to let it get its claws into you.

"Set us down anywhere," you say to Hacna as you near the ground. You're glad to see that there's no storms standing in your way - just a light breeze swirling dust across the stretch of land below you. She sets the ship down, and you use the console to bring up a readout of the planet's atmospherics. The oxygen levels are fine and the temperature is perfectly tolerable, but there's no telling what sort of heavy metal particulate might have worked its way into the wind. There's also a worryingly high level of background radiation - not enough to pose a serious threat with mere external skin contact, but you don't want to be breathing in irradiated dirt.

You grab your bag of gear, then take Hacna with you to the ship's exit and hand her a breathing mask. She's none too happy about being forced to step outside with you, but a wandering finger raised to your wrist has her remembering the shock collar you put on her some days ago. Next, you lower the exit ramp, and the two of you step out onto Tion's surface.

A breath of fresh air should be nice after three days aboard the Fury, but there's none to be had here. The wind seems to stop the moment your feet touch solid ground, crunching the fine silt that lies all around you. You walk out a few more feet before stopping, though there's really no point - it's all the same. Putting your gear on the ground, you take out Hacna's soil sampler and run a test on the dirt while comparing it to the specifications on your datapad. For a brief moment, you're thrilled - all the necessary minerals and organic elements are there, and well within the acceptable ranges for Kyber crystal synthesis.

Except the isotope numbers are all wrong - and then it hits you. Tion suffered a *supernova* - entire cities were welded together into bizarre sculptures of twisted metal. A good chunk of the atmosphere was burnt off. That background radiation you detected was a reminder of that disaster, one which had bathed the entire planet in enough radiation to melt durasteel.
>>
>>2223363
And it's not like anywhere else on the planet would have fared better. You landed on the side that had been facing *away* from the Cron cluster when the star there went nova. The other half of Tion got it even worse.

Frustrated and feeling like you've hit a dead end, you order Hacna back on the ship and back into the cockpit. There, you think - but you have precious few ideas to go off of. Even so, you don't want to leave before at least trying out another location. You order Hacna back into orbit, and direct her to land you on what was once a vast tract of protected forest between two of Tion's smaller cities. The trees are still there, something you struggle to comprehend as Hacna sets you down in a small clearing amidst them.

At first you're sure they're some strange outgrowth of rock produced by the nova, but after you step outside to get a good look at the towering, gnarled trees of off-white, you see them for what they are. You give one a knock, and find that it's as hard as permacrete - probably some reaction to the blast that twisted everything else on the planet so terribly.

Turning your attention away from that, you go through the task of scanning another soil sample. Seconds after it comes up with the same results, you throw Hacna's tool to the ground in frustration and march about in a fuming huff while Hacna races to recover the device.

Taking a moment to gather your senses, you reach out with the Force and feel for anything on this dead rock that could give you a clue as to your direction. The only answer you receive is the ghostly echo that called to you the moment you reached orbit. You pull away, letting that deathly call recede into the back of your mind where it can't bother you.

You're stumped. Maybe it's time to branch out and take a look at the urban areas - it won't take much time. Hacna is with you, and you've managed to keep it largely civil with her so far - maybe she has an idea.
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>>2223369
>fly to urban area and bombard an small area with ships weapons to dig up fresh soil from under the buildings and test that

If this fails, the last bet is to find cave or an mine..but those are next to suicide to venture into at place like this.
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>>2223369
Yeah let's go check the cities I guess. Damn. No cancer lightsaber for us I suppose. Let's see what Hacna has to say. I figure a mechanic in the star wars universe would be familiar with radiation.
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>>2223420
Yeah she might know if there is even a change that some of soil survived without getting burned by radiation
>>
Since isotopes don't really change how an element will react chemically, why can't we use this soil? It's been a while since I had a chemistry class.
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>>2223591
Probably because of Force fuckery. Saber crystals are in some way receptive to the Force. The naturally occurring ones especially, but I can't recall offhandedly if the manufactured ones are as well.
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>>2223369
As you stare up at the dust-strewn sky, a thought comes to you.

"Hacna," you say. Her U4 droid lets out a short buzz as it turns to face you. "Would the isotopic makeup of a crystal affect its properties?"

The Weequay lets out a short exclamation of surprise, then mumbles to herself for a few moments. You've undoubtedly caught her by surprise with this question. You never *did* tell her why you two are digging around in the dirt on an irradiated world.

"Eh..." she murmurs, an uneasy waver the droid beside her echoes. "Some effect. New thermal properties. Light scattering different. Hard to say."

You shake your head in disappointment. 'Hard to say' won't cut it, nor will 'close enough'. Lightsabers are notoriously unstable weapons. Even perfect materials can result in an imperfect crystal, one which can't handle the strain put on it by the weapon's internal power matrix. Making a crystal with the dirt at your feet is a good way to lose a hand.

It's too bad, too. Lord Veredious' words echo within you as you look around at the gnarled, rock-like trees. To take something dead and useless, and make it vibrant and useful. There would be a certain dark poetry to forging your weapon from such material. But Tion wasn't just murdered - it was warped beyond recognition in the process.

"I need dirt like this." You turn to Hacna and point at the ground. "The same mineral and organic composition, but normal isotopic values. Where would I get it?"

Hacna must recognize how on edge you are. Her usual surliness is gone, replaced with a mind and tongue that are fast to respond to your orders.

"Needs to be shielded," she says. "Protected from radiation. Then, the dirt is ok."

You bite your lip in thought. That won't work either. Are you supposed to hunt around ruined city after ruined city in the hopes you find a lead-lined box of centuries-old soil samples? That would be a tall order even *if* the buildings weren't melted wrecks.

Unless you have any other brilliant ideas, it's probably time to take a look at an urban area. Might as well, anyway. The time spent there is trivial compared to that spent in hyperspace jumping to another planet.
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>>2223644
I'm sure that the under city of the cities would've been protecting the soil more then enough.

Then again, i kinda wanna risk the fucking dirt here and see what crystal comes out.
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>>2223644
Does the radiation affected the soil from the surface to the core? You did say it was melted but how much over the crust of the planet are we talking? Could our character know about it? Also maybe a cave covered something maybe the urban area shielded the ground from the radiation!! Time to go tot he urban area. Maybe we find a minning faciluty or something
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Lets look at the biggest urban areas that we can find, and see if anything catches the eye.
Maybe something under the bigger buildings survived?

>>2223652
Me too...although it's more likely to go *"boom" goodbye hilt* than any otherway
>>
>>2223652
I would live to go science!! But for all we know the unstable crystal could explode once it starts being synthesized by the compressor.
>>
>>2223669
More likely '*boom* goodbye crystal compressor'
>>
>>2223644
Yeah let's check around urban areas. Preferably somewhere that was very important. Like a government area in the capitol. Could we find any sort of record for that on the star wars equivalent to the internet on our ship?
>>
Also if there's any record of someone being on planet while the supernova happened and still surviving, that'd be the place to check. Seems like a tall order though.
>>
>>2223759
Anon it says in the post that the people that leaved here abandoned the planet. So if there is anyone still here it won't be on records.

>>2223700
>Could we find any sort of record for that on the star wars equivalent to the internet on our ship?

Read here:
>Hacna brings up a holographic map of the planet, one assembled back when the world was still habitable.

We have a holografic map of how the planet used to be before we can easily find what used to be as you said important areas.
>>
>>2223792
I meant to say we should check for any records of someone leaving the planet right after the supernova, which would imply that they had a safe place to survive the initial blast and then left immediately.
>>
>>2223835
Well we would need to check the urban area then. And hope that the supernova hasn't melted anything usefull. Hopefully Hacna can fix it if you find any records like that.
>>
>>2223644
"Come." You wave for Hacna to grab your gear, and then you both head back up the ship.

"We are done?" her interpreter droid asks, its voice strangely upbeat. You're close enough to Hacna to tell that her question carried far more impatience than was conveyed.

"No, we're not done." You go to the ship's cockpit, and direct Hacna to bring your ship into the air. Your next target is close, and you don't have to enter orbit like you did the previous jump. A few minutes of sub-orbital flight have you flying past crumbling mesas and carved badlands, all of which look positively beautiful compared to what lies up ahead. Tion's largest city, Tion - the former capital of the Tionese hegemony, polity of the Tionese people. You want to shake your head at the baffling conflation of names, but you're reminded too much of your own confusing lineage. You're a Sith - you think of yourself as one, as does everyone else - but you have not a drop of Sith blood within you. In the distant past, that would have been an unthinkable state of affairs for the Sith order. But now - at least outside of the Dark Council itself - the Sith Empire's rulership was nearly as multicultural as the Republic.

"Ugly city," Hacna spits. For once, you and the Weequay are of similar minds. The mass of twisted gray & brown up ahead is barely recognizable as the remains of a city. Only the shine of its metal curves gives it away as man-made. As you fly close enough to get a good look at the cityscape outside the side cockpit windows, you see more and more details that tell you this was once a place where people lived. The straight pathways of what were once roads are still visible between the buildings, and there are even a few walkways between buildings in the distance. The deeper you go, the more recognizable your surroundings become. It's still post-apocalyptic, but there are at least intact skyscrapers.
>>
>>2223940
Now, you just need a place to land. Unfortunately the city isn't giving you any options. The streets are too narrow for the wide-winged Fury, and the fractured ground has you worried about a cave-in. A city like this one undoubtedly has sub-levels for utilities and other such necessities, spaces that you could fall right into if you set down in the wrong spot. As your eyes wander across the lines of teetering buildings flying by, your eyes fall on one in particular. It's a huge cylinder dozens of stories high, with round docking pads attached to the exterior. It looks safe enough to land on, but that isn't what caught your attention. There's *green* inside the building, visible through the holes in the exterior that once held glass windows.

"There!" you shout to Hacna, making her wobble the control stick uneasily. She grumbles in annoyance and rights the ship, trying to search out what you're pointing at.

But then something else grabs the attention of both of you. A beam of blue light, shooting up from the ground and flying right past your ship. Hacna shouts in panic and nearly sends you careening into a skyscraper, but regains controls and keeps you alive long enough for the next attack to come. This one you don't see, but you feel it well enough. The ship shakes as something hits the left wing, and a flurry of beeps and warning signals blares throughout the ship's cockpit. Someone, or *something* is determined to put your ship on the ground. You need to either land, or get the hell out of here - and you're not sure Hacna is up to the task. She's weaving in and out between buildings, swearing and jerking in her chair as she tries to avoid the anti-air fire. Another blast hits your right wing, and you can feel the thermal plating beginning to shear off.

Hacna's a better pilot than you, but not when she's having a panic attack. You should sit in the co-pilot's chair and override her controls. But to go where? The docking pads you spotted are well-built, and your ship would be protected from ground fire if you reached it safely.
>>
>>2223952
Can we calm her with our zeltron powers? Let's go for the docking pads
>>
>>2223952
Well guess there is still some people here then. Most likely trying to find a way out. Also if we can get a glance of were the shot cane from would be great to.

>Go to the docking pads
>>
>>2223952
Supporting this for how we habdle Hacna:>>2223981
>>
>>2223981
Support for this.

Most likely some lowlifes hunting artifacts, lets show them what happens when you mess with Sith...oh yeah I hope we get that ships armory open or it's Sneaky Electric Boogaloo 2, ruined city episode
>>
>>2224019
I don't think anyone would consider scavenging this place, it's more likely somebody's doing some sketchy shit here that they don't want anyone to know about.
>>
>>2223981
It seems kinda risky to rely on our not always reliable zeltron powers rather than just piloting it ourselves. There's not much benefit to calming her down except for maybe building more rapport with her
>>
Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>2224036
big money no whammies
>>
>>2223952
Hacna's panic is clearly affecting her piloting skills, but there's a better option available to you than taking over for her. You lay your hand on the back of her chair, then snake your fingers down until the tips are just touching the shoulder of her flight suit. She doesn't notice - she's too busy grimacing from the last round of laser fire shooting out from the ground.

There are at least three beams now, coming from all different directions. The Fury is fast and maneuverable, but there's not much room to maneuver in these tight confines. Nor do you want to tell Hacna to bring you straight up into the air - that would put you clear in line for a shot right to your rear engines.

"Take us back to those docking pads I pointed out."

Hacna whirls back in her seat to look at you, but quickly returns to her view to the front window. "What? Why?"

"Because you can get us there safely," you soothe her. "I'm sure of it."

Roll me 1d6. The use of your Zeltronian empathy won't be quite as easy as the last time you did it - back then, she had been mildly annoyed, not scared beyond belief.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>2224043
Calm down, god damn.
>>
Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>2224043
>>
>>2224047
whew
hope that's good enough
>>
Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>2224043
rolling in case the other roll doesn't count
>>
>>2224057
why
>>
>>2224060
Why to roll or why wouldn't count?

First one becaus ei thought i could do better. Second because some QM's do that when they screw up.
>>
>>2224043
"I cannot land!" Hacna screeches. "I cannot even see!" You can barely hear the interpreter droid's translation over the Weequay’s voice.

Panic surges within her, and you draw your hand away before it can infect you. Blue lasers continue to surge all around you, inflicting worse and worse damage to your ship - sooner or later, they'll hit something critical.

"Just get us *down*!" you boom, taking a seat in the co-pilot's chair and buckling yourself in. Regardless of how this landing is happening, you want to be strapped in tight for it. The cockpit alarms have become deafening, and you switch them off in the hope that it will ease some of the pressure Hacna is crumbling under.

The ship lurches under a horizontal skyway stretched between two buildings, and you glance over to see Hacna sweating bullets as she pushes down on the control stick.

"I am landing us!" The surface street below you grows closer at a frightening speed. Apparently a certain death on the ground is preferable to a possible death in the air.

"Pull *up*!" you shout at her, before hitting the control override and pulling up on the stick in front of you. Just in time, too - the nose of your ship tips upward, and you're thrown all around in your eat as your ship races across the junk-strewn roadway. Hacna screams the whole way, but you manage to keep your worry contained to clenched teeth and tightly-wound muscles.

You engage the front-facing thrusters, careful not to fire them too hard too quickly. Gradually you slow down, and the ship rocks awkwardly on its base before coming to a full stop. You want to breathe a sigh of relief, but you're not out of danger yet. Whoever attacked you is still out there.

Uttering a silent prayer to the Emperor that the Fury is functional enough to get back in the air, you engage the bottom thrusters and lift up into the air. Then, something smashes into the top of your ship, and you find that you can no longer get sufficient lift to take off. You manage to engage the landing gears just before crashing back down to the roadway.

Hacna screeches again, and you nearly Force choke her into silence before shooting up from your seat and racing to the lowering exit ramp. Something fell on top of your ship, and you need to move the obstruction if you're too have any hope of leaving.

"Blaster!" Hacna shouts as she races after you. "Give me a blaster!"

Do you give her the key to the ship's armory before exiting the ship? If you get left behind or die here, so does she. You made sure she understands that.
>>
>>2224090
Yeah, it's worth it
>>
>>2224090
Give her a fucking blaster
>>
>>2224090
Hey everyone deserves a chance to fight. Besides if we get shot from behind it just means we weren't strong enough. So yes we give her the armory keys.
>>
Can we add a comment that if she had told us she could use one we would have given one to her?
>>
>>2224107
There was never any reason to consider giving her a blaster yet. This is supposed to be a dead and abandoned planet
>>
>>2224113
I true. I was just trying to do a cheeky remark.
>>
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>>2224090
You turn around, pull the code cylinder for the armory's lockers from your tunic pocket, then toss it to her. Hacna races down the ship's hallway, while you pull the vibrosword hilt from your belt loop and jog down the ramp of your ship. The city street before you is littered with the remnants of wrecked cruisers and falling debris, and there's a cloud of swirling dust in the air that nearly puts you in a coughing fit. You get a bit more distance from the Fury to see what the problem is, which becomes clear the moment you turn around.

A latticed girder from the building beside you has fallen out of the crumbling concrete wall you slashed a hole in with your ship's wing, pinning it to the street. You stow your extended vibrosword, then reach out with both hands and try to use the Force to tip the steel beam back into place. You manage to lift it just enough to ease some of the weight on the ship's landing struts, but you can't move it any further. Easing the girder back down, you're about to start looking for a better solution when a bellowing roar echoes across the cityscape.

Something *big* is moving towards you from a few hundred feet away, a shifting mass of metal and flesh that smashes aside anything in its way. Then, a second - and a third. There are 2 or 3 people atop each of the beasts, wearing masks of gray metal and ratty blue robes. They shout a wordless warcry at you, pumping their spears in the air as they charge.

"What is this?" Hacna shouts, racing down the ramp with blaster in hand. You wave her into cover behind a wrecked land cruiser, then peak out to see that the large creatures have stopped and their robed riders are dismounting. They group is close enough now that you can make out cattle-like horned heads beneath the metal armor the mounts wear. They look almost like the Uxibeasts that graze around Voss' grassy fields.

"Wait for my cue," you say to her. Your attackers - whoever they are - don't seem to have actually spotted *you*, though they certainly see the starship standing a hundred feet in front of them. They spread out across the street, slowly moving closer to your position. Each of them takes the spear in their hand and twists the shaft, making a bright white light flare to life on the end. Plasma torches - primitive weapons, but deadly enough should they get close to you.

"Come out, sky man!" the one in the middle calls out. He wears beaded necklaces that jingle as he walks, and you can tell by the way his head swivels from side to side that he hasn't actually spotted you. Soon, though, they will. You should make the first move.

Hacna is no warrior, but she'll follow your lead. There are 8 attackers spread evenly across the road, weaving their way between debris as they search for you. Sneaking up on one is night impossible in this terrain. You have your vibrosword and Force powers, as well as the crumbling buildings towering on either side of the road.
>>
>>2224204
Use the force to toss as many into the air as possible. Hopefully we can break some bones and disorient them. After we've done this, have Hacna fire on those who remain and see what opportunities to strike with the vibrosword are available
>>
>>2224204
Can we use Unlimited power(Force Lightning)?
>>
>>2224204
Locate a structurally weak building and use the force to collapse it on as many of them as possible. Have Hacna take shots at those who are distracted by attempting to escape the rubble.

Apparently a few people survived the supernova and now they've reverted to a weird tribal culture. Interesting.

thiss quest is way too good
>>
Rolled 1 (1d3)

>>2224211
>>2224215
>>2224216

Let's roll for it
>>
>>2224204
>well as the crumbling buildings towering on either side of the road.

can we spot a weak point so we cancause the building to fall on then or block their way theb using the confusion and dust from the sudden slide go out using the dust as cover and connection to the force to cut some fuckers.
>>
>>2224222
Damn, that was a short voting period
>>
>>2224204
"Hacna."

The panting Weequay turns to you, ever-weary about the intruders closing in on you two. You grab the droid hovering beside her to make sure it's well out of view, then look back to her.

"In a few seconds, all of these men are going to be on the ground. When that happens, you point your blaster at them. If you see one of them stand back up, you fire until he's back on the ground. Got it?"

She swallows and nods, croaking out a mumbled acceptance too quiet for the droid to pick up on.

"And *don't* shoot me," you add quickly.

Standing up from your cover, you draw your clenched fists to your chest and tilt your head up to the sky. A shout comes from one of your attackers, and you hear the clank of scrap-metal armor and the hiss of plasma torches as they rush towards you. Before they can move more than a few paces, you throw your hands outward, releasing a wave of energy that ripples outward across the street, pushing aside chunks of fallen debris and clearing the air of accumulated dust.

Roll me 1d6. It's a good thing you've taken the time to train your practical application of the Force - flattening 8 opponents at once is a challenging feat.
>>
Rolled 5 (1d6)

>>2224236
>>
Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>2224236
>>
Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>2224236
give 6
>>
>>2224236
The concussive blast nearly pops your own eardrums - you can only imagine what it's doing to the skulls of your attackers. Each one of them is thrown flat to the ground, and even the hulking beasts of burden they left behind are staggered by the fury you unleashed. Hacna shouts excitedly and pops up from cover just far enough to level her blaster at the group.

Now to make your next move. Each of the 8 are lying prone, and they're all roughly equidistant to you. You should have time to reach any one of them and strike before they manage to stand. Or perhaps it's better to keep at a distance from those plasma spears.
>>
>>2224248
coup de grace
>>
>>2224248
CUT THEN. leave one to be our relunctant guide.
>>
>>2224248
How far away are they now? We could probably take them all out with a collapsed upper portion of a building falling on them. Take out one of the supports on a damaged mid to upper level on a building next to them.
>>
>>2224248
Drawing your sword mid-run, you hop over debris as you cut a path straight towards the nearest attacker. He's groaning in pain and in the process of rolling onto his back when you bring your blade straight through his ribcage. You only stop when the concrete below him forces you to.

A flurry of blaster fire comes from behind you, and you glance left to see that the 3 attackers on that side have been pinned down by Hacna's scream-accompanied shots - though none have landed yet. Pulling your sword from your fallen foe and and turning right, you see that the remaining 4 are in varying stages of recovery. They're lined up for you now, in a neat little row.

Do you work your way through the 4 to your right? They're close enough and you're fast enough for you to hopefully face a single opponent at a time. Once they're standing those plasma torches are back in their hands, this becomes more difficult. What you don't want to happen is to be surrounded by them. Or, some debris could be pulled down from above them. But the more of them you try to take out in such a manner, the more likely you are to harm yourself in the process.
>>
>>2224288
Finish the first with the vibroblade and then immediately hit the other two with a large blast of force lightning and then finish them off with the vibroblade while they're stunned.
>>
>>2224294
Meant to say hit the other 3 with lightning, not just 2
>>
>>2224288
>They're lined up for you now, in a neat little row.


neat use the force to manipulate the plasma torch of the one we killed then, push it toward then in the hopes to pierce throught the entire line. pierce then with their on weapons
>>
>>2224288
>>2224294
this sounds good
>>
>>2224288
Before the masked man directly to your right can stand, you storm towards him and deliver an upward slash across his chest, cutting right through the inactive spear he's attempting to get working again. The next three rise to their feet and back into a tight cluster, spears lit and pointed at you - they would be better off spread out. Thrusting your left hand towards them, you send a bolt of blue current arcing off of your fingertips towards the trio.

Roll me 1d6. They've made this easy for you.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>2224332
taste my lightning, fuckkkkers!
>>
Rolled 5 (1d6)

>>2224332
Hiyaaaa!
>>
Rolled 6 (1d6)

>>2224332
>>
Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>2224332
All three crumple before your lightning, falling to the ground in a spasm of limbs and a clatter of fried weaponry. With your right flank secure, you look to your left to see that the furthest most pair is slowly advancing on Hacna. The nearest is charging straight at you, Plasma spear drawn back and ready to strike.
>>
>>2224360
Force push charging dude, direct him into the pair
>>
>>2224360
Block and strike down the one charging us.
After that force push from the behind at the two remaining ones...we need information and need atleast one alive.
>>
>>2224360
Uh... Are we supposed to vote?
>>
>>2224360
You deftly sidestep the man's bellowing charge, delivering a vicious slash to his exposed back that cuts straight through his spine. That is one thing you will miss about wielding a vibrosword - the visceral feel of cleaving through flesh with a heavy blade.

The remaining two attackers seem to take notice of how many of their comrades have fallen so quickly. One of them drops his lit plasma spear and tries to flee into a side-street away from you and Hacna, but the second attacker delivers a thrust to his fleeing ally's side that sends him spinning into the dirt. For the first time in this fight, you have been genuinely taken by surprise. The man is standing fully upright now, exposing his top half to Hacna. She fires off another shot, and there is a brilliant flash of light as it strikes the man's helmeted head.

But as the white glow fades from your vision, you see his plasma spear held upright, the fiery white blade held between him and Hacna. He had blocked the blaster shot. But that was impossible - plasma torches couldn't deflect blaster fire.

Unless it *isn't* a plasma torch.

With his free hand, your remaining opponent strips off his filtration mask and throws it to the ground. The sides of his head are shaved, and the top is tied back into a single, long braid. His face is painted with blue tribal markings, geometric lines that trace jagged paths all over his skin. And his eyes - even from twenty feet away you can see the fury in them.

"You will *die*, Jedi."

So he speaks Basic. But the accent is strange, and provincial - like nothing you've ever heard.

You want to know how these men constructed such a weapon - and what's powering it. You also don't want him ramming it straight into your gut.
>>
>>2224423
Boss fight!
I'm from Tion and I say kill 'em all!
Well, we can leave a mook alive for questioning but I don't want to risk avoiding killing blows against this guy.
>>
>>2224423
I am the greatest enemy of the Jedi. I am sith. If you hadn't attacked my ship first then none if this would have happened. I am here in order to make a tool to help me kill Jedi across the Galaxy.
>>
>>2224423
First of all make him know we are no stinking jedi. Then proceed to disarm him by destroying his weapon.
>>
>>2224443
>Well, we can leave a mook alive for questioning but I don't want to risk avoiding killing blows against this guy.

You can't say for certain, but the blast you delivered to the other three likely killed them on the spot. They're not moving, but you can't afford to pay them more attention than that quite yet.
>>
>>2224443
We should convince him not to fight us. I'm just guessing here but it seems like these people are survivors who blame the Jedi war for the destruction of their planet. And they have an interesting form of the lightsaber that we could learn from.
>>
>>2224446
>>2224443
I say we defeat the guy in combat and put Hacna shock collar on him. Yay new companion!
>>
>>2224457
Since he killed the guy running away i say he's one of those Honourabu figtha! So inly if we defeat him he will stop attacking us
>>
>>2224483
I'd say the risk of fighting a dude with a lightsaber-esque weapon in melee combat is a risky choice when we only have a vibroblade. We should at least try to defuse the situation since its really just a misunderstanding
>>
I guess we could at least kill this guy and recover the dropped lightsaber spear for Hacna to dismantle and study but I'd rather make peace and learn more about this bizarre society for even more knowledge about how they make lightsabers with this guy as our guide. Our diplomacy skill is pretty good, we should use it.
>>
>>2224491
>>2224521
If it's a pseudo lightsaber it's like that because he's using a lightsaber crystal We just got super lucky.
>>
>>2224423
"I'm no Jedi!" you shout to him over the soft howl of wind and the groan of the buildings around you. "I am their greatest enemy!"

He gives you a knowing sneer. "Jedi is Jedi's greatest enemy. I know this."

Hacna has stopped firing, probably out of shock from what happened to her last bolt. That, and uncertainty as to why you aren't engaging the only remaining attacker. You're not entirely sure either. Perhaps you’re just curious. There shouldn’t be *anyone* left on Tion. Jedi-hating survivors is too bizarre a find to pass over without question.

"Do I look like a Jedi?" you ask him, taking a ready stance with your sword while standing your ground. He already looks to have tired of the conversation, and you want to be ready for him.

"Look like Jedi?" he spits on the ground, casting a cautious eye to Hacna in the process. "You do this!" He thrusts his hand towards you, mimicking the blast of force you flattened him and his companions with. "Jedi!"

His shouts turn nearly incoherent, and he levels the plasma spear at you. Sensing that negotiations have broken down, you reach out with the Force and try to snatch the weapon from his hand.

Roll me 1d6. He looks strong.
>>
Rolled 6 (1d6)

>>2224531
>>
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Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>2224531
Cut this fucker and get our crystal from his dead corpse.
>>
>>2224535
UNLIMITED POWAAAAAHHHH
>>
Although... if he's really good, and we survive, having a warrior like him who hates the Jedi would be good.
>>
Guys we still need a roll it's best of three
>>
Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>2224531
>>
>>2224563
Thank you
>>
>>2224531
The spear flies from his hand lit-end first, and you twirl it about in the air before snatching it with your free hand. The man shouts in surprise and fury - probably more at himself than you. He's angry, but it's a purposeless and ill-controlled anger that makes him more bark than bite. He lets out an animalistic war cry as he bears down on you, trying to wrap his arms around your waist to tackle you to the ground.

It's a move you saw coming the moment he lost control of his emotions. You could drive your sword straight through exposed clavicle, but you don't want him dead just yet. You'd rather he have an opportunity to answer a few more questions - but for that, you need him subdued.

You swing the torch in your left hand downward, swiping it across his right shoulder. The weapon is too heavy to use well one-handed, especially in your left - but you hit him well enough to send him crashing to the ground in front of you amidst howls of pain. The three armored beasts in the distance echo his sounds, sending up a raucous chorus of wounded cries.

"Where did you get this?" you shout, thrusting his stolen weapon at him. "Did you make it?"

Hacna rushes over to you, and points her shaking blaster at the man lying on his back. Smoke trails off of his burnt shoulder, and you're glad that the filtration mask you wear also works to keep out the smell of burnt flesh.

"I tell you nothing, Jedi." He tilts his head back to look up at you, a defiant expression on his face. "You die, I die. No talk."

He's wounded, but not mortally. There might be some way of getting him to talk, such as Force Persuasion - your usual Zeltronian method is a bit too light-handed for this task. Maybe there's something on your ship to convince him you're not a Jedi? You could show him holovids of the Sith invasion of the Republic that took place ten years ago, but he might consider that more 'Jedi fighting Jedi'. That's what he seems to consider the ancient Jedi schism that accompanied his world's death.
>>
>>2224591
Do whatever we can to prove that we're sith and not Jedi and show him the difference between the two. We need a friendly guide to get anywhere on this planet.
>>
>>2224591
Try to explain to him the idea of Sith, and what we're all about. Maybe lie a bit more.
>>
>>2224591
Hey man, I know I just killed all your frends and just beat the shit out you with your own weapon, but lt's ahev a deep and introspective discussion on the subtle and more broad differences between Jedi and Sith philsophy. In the beginning, there was the force and the force is this weird binding energy...
>>
>>2224591
This:>>2224603
>>
>>2224591
I say we shock the shit out of him. Then examine his weapon more closely. Then of course go check out his beasts and the direction they came from.

We don't need to know if he made the shitty light-spear we just need to know where he came from to have the necessary materials for it.
>>
>>2224591
I mean... we're Sith, lets just torture him until he tells us what we want to know
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>2224591
>1: Some light torture
>2: A gentler approach
>>
>>2224841
"Hacna," you say. "Get the stun cuffs."

The Weequay spares you only a single glance before breaking into a run back to the ship. You had brought the cuffs along on the off chance you needed them for *her*. That had seemed unlikely at the time, but it looks like they'll have been more than worth the storage space. A few minutes later she returns, handing you the metal cuffs for you to bind the man's wrists behind his back. He kicks and swears and flails, but he can't put up much of a fight. By the time it's done, he's lying flat on his stomach with his arms secured behind his back.

You begin taking apart his weapon, discarding the power pack strapped the shaft before cracking the brittle metal pole open on the ground. You hear glass shatter, and tip spear over to find that you've broken some sort of focusing lens. A few more shakes, and something else comes out along with a bundle of wires - a cloudy white crystal, the size of your fingertip.

The moment you touch it, you know what it for what it is - a Kyber crystal. Other than the men lying dead at your feet and the pack animals braying in the distance, it is the most life you've felt since landing on Tion. There's a warmth to the crystal, and a soft hum that become more audible as you hold it close to your ear.

"What is it?" Hacna asks.

"A Kyber crystal," you respond.

She grumbles uncertainly. "For a lightsaber?"

You thumb the crystal thoughtfully before shaking your head in disappointment and dropping your hand to your side.

"No. Not for a lightsaber." It's too small, for one thing - yours will be about twice the size when you finally forge it. It's also far too misshapen to properly channel the energy focused through it - that's why the spears flared and sparked with such short, unfocused blades. If someone were to attempt to create a focused beam of light that didn't allow for stray cast-offs of excess energy, the result would be explosive and deadly.

Turning back to your new prisoner, you circle around to his side so that he can look up at you more easily.

"I killed your friends because they attacked me," you say calmly.

"Is smart," he manages to respond through his pain. "We would kill you. I still kill you."

"No, you won't. But you don't have to die, either."

His painted face twists in confusion and suspicion.

"Tell me where you found this--" You hold up the small white crystal for him to see. "--And I'll let you go. My servant and I will leave this planet behind."

He lets out a laugh that is surprisingly lyrical and full-throated given his condition.

"My life? This place? Is no great thing. You can have them."

This isn't working. The young man hates you, and rightfully so. He's not going to *stop* hating - you need to find a way to redirect that anger, and make him believe that aiding you will bring him fulfillment of his destructive desires.

>That's all for tonight
>>
>>2224915
Pretty simple, tell him if he helps you that you can get him to a place with those jedi he hates so much so he can kill them. He won't believe.
>>
>>2224915
If he helps us, we promise to kill all the jedi.
>>
>>2224915
I can't really think of anything unless we can find the Jedi or the descendants of Jedi involved in the war on Tion and show them to him on our ship's terminal. Maybe explain to him the sith doctrine and how it varies with the Jedi doctrine.

It kinda seems like he's force sensitive since that's usually the prerequisite for deflecting blaster bolts with a lightsaber. Plus he seemed to have some kind of force bond with those animals they rode in on. So maybe we could use that somehow. Idk. He's too old to join the sith academy so it's not like we could really offer him a position as a sith. It may be worth contacting our master if we can.
>>
>>2225012
Now that I think about it our master may even have interest in collecting this one as a slave. He seems to be at least the beginning of a new genetic offshoot of humanity.
>>
>>2224591
Just take Hacna's shock collar and put it on him. She has proven she can obey so she doesn't need it. Besides it will sever to show her what happens with those who don't do what we say. Then keep shocking and torturing him until he gives in.
>>
>>2225028
I think torture is fine in situations where someone is already completely our enemy, like a Jedi. This dude and his people hate Jedi so we should convince them that we're not their enemy.
>>
>>2224915
Feed his anger, tell how the Jedi are still boasting about how they destroyed his home planet.
He can call us whatever he wants, but we are Jedies greatest enemy, and that we are building an great weapon to kill as many Jedi with as we can.
>>
Rolled 3 (1d5)

>>2224928
>>2224934
>>2225012
>>2225028
>>2225482

A lot of battling ideas here, let's roll for it.
>>
>>2225818
Guess time to show this guy solo holo videos of the battle of coruscant.
>>
>>2224915
You're not sure how fruitful talking to this man will be, but you might as well give it a fair shake before simply electrocuting him into submission. There are no more attackers in sight, and you don't have any better leads with which to explore Tion further.

"What's your name?" you ask him.

All he gives you in return is a sneer that says he has no intention of answering.

"I'm Lord Varrus," you continue calmly, then gesture to Hacna. "And this is my servant, Hacna."

She staggers back in fright. "Do not tell him my name!"

"I do not care," the man spits up at you. You ignore both of their protests and try to play the composed diplomat for just a little longer.

You kneel down and grab him roughly by his arm, drawing a pained grimace from him.

"Do you want to die another nameless, faceless victim of the Jedi?" you shout. "True warriors have names!"

You can't possibly hope to calm the man's surging emotions, but you can do the opposite - you can inflame them to such a degree that he doesn't give a shred of thought to the words he says. Maybe that will open up an opportunity to pry further.

Roll me 1d6.
>>
Rolled 6 (1d6)

>>2225829
>>
Rolled 3 (1d6)

>>2225829
>>
Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>2225829
Sorry i'm late
>>
>>2225829
A raging fire wells within your captive, one you let yourself experience for only a few moments before pulling your hand away from him.

"I am Sadon!" he bellows. "And I am the greatest warrior of Tion!"

You force a laugh as you stand, one that will hopefully enrage him further.

"Greatest warrior?" you say. "And who do you fight? How many of your hated Jedi could possibly crash-land on this planet?"

He narrows his eyes furiously. "I do not only fight Jedi. I have killed the Yag'shuurush - and the Bele'tarr. My clan has killed countless others."

Apparently this planet hosts a bit more life than you thought. You have to assume they're roughly as hospitable as the natives lying dead around you.

"Who?" you ask Sadon.

"The Bele'tarr," he responds scornfully, as if you are stupid for asking the question. "Their clan thought to take this land's trees. Many died, and few ran."

"Oh." You rub your jaw thoughtfully and then point at the sky. "I think I spotted them I was flying overhead. Those weren't members of your clan?"

His expression turns horrified, then becomes angry again. "No!" he shouts at you.

Your lie is beginning to stretch into the territory of dangerous conjecture, but you're keeping your guesses as vague as possible. They Bele'tarr are likely human, like most pre-war inhabitants, and probably use much the same tools as the clan you just slaughtered.

"But they *look* just like you," you say to Sadon. "They rode beasts just like yours."

He sputters in righteous disbelief. "They worship different Gods! They scorn the sacred rites!"

"How am I supposed to know any of that?" you shoot back.

"They wear the red Salari! We wear the blue!"

You glance around at the dead bodies, all wearing robes of deep, vivid blue. The color different is convenient, and allows you to make your point perfectly.

"*I* am red." You tap your scarred, crimson cheek. "Did you ever expect to see a red Jedi?"

He stares at you blankly for a few moments before shaking his head from side to side. Then, his expression hardens again.

"You use the powers," he says in a low, threatening voice. "I saw them."

You lean back and look up at the sky, taking a deep breath in to try and scrape together what little patience you can muster. You have a point you're trying to reach, but it's hard to do with so angry and provincial a debate partner.

"Hacna," you say to the Weequay behind you. "Go load a datapad with footage from the sack of Coruscant." She fixes you with an annoyed glare, but a single directing finger to your ship has her reluctantly returning to it. Hopefully there's some semblance of a holonet connection for her to work with.

While she's doing that, you turn back to Sadon.
>>
>>2225889
"You know that these... 'clans' of yours were all one people at one point. The Tionese people."

He doesn't nod, but you can see the understanding in his eyes.

"It is the Jedi's fault," he says.

"Yes, it is. They had their war, and your planet paid the price."

"*Your* war," he says in angry response. "You are Jedi!"

You're about ready to hit him with a blast of Force lightning just to shut him up, but you've come this war with words. Might as well go a little bit further.

"Your people were split apart less than 400 years ago," you explain. "Do you know how long ago my people split from the Jedi?"

He doesn't seem interested in making a guess, so you continue. "Twenty *thousand* years ago."

Sadon eyes you doubtfully, but you fix him with a steady gaze that has him wavering. Perhaps he can sense the truth in your words. It isn't a lie, after all - that really was how long ago Ajunta Pall and his followers first fled to Korriban. If you're too affix a starting point to the Sith lineage, that would be the most appropriate one.

"Then what are you?" he wonders. This is progress. If he's asking questions, it means he's up for more than combat and reticent silence. Hacna arrives with a datapad in hand, and you take it before kneeling down in front of him with the computer held in front of his face. The flickering screen takes him by surprise - he might have never seen technology like this.
>>
>>2225891
"This is the Jedi temple on the planet of Coruscant."

He hardly seems to be listening, his eyes remaining transfixed on the propaganda video of Sith fleets bombarding Coruscant's government district as invading troop transports rain down from the sky. You know the footage well. You still remember seeing it as a young child at the academy, and knowing that you would one day be fighting such a battle.

"This is war?" he wonders. "Who is the other?"

"The Sith," you explain quickly. "I am Sith. I use the Force--the *powers* you mentioned--but I am not Jedi. Just like you are not Bele'tarr." You shut down the datapad, and the sound of exploding bombs and screeching skycraft cuts off. "I came here to create a weapon that can kill Jedi, but I can't do that unless you tell me where you found this." You hold the crystal aloft once again, but Sadon's expression is not as defiant as it was before. His lip twitches and his eyes flicker between you and the crystal... then down to the datapad held by your side.

"I will find a good tree for you," he finally says after moments of unending silence. The words are spoken with a confident finality, as if you have won him over - but you have no idea what he's talking about.

"A *crystal*!" you shake the milky white rock up and down. "Just tell me where these grow."

His brow furrows in confusion, and he looks between you and Hacna, as if trying to decide whether or not you're playing some joke on him.

"The trees," he says.

You sputter in disbelief and lower your hand, thinking back to the forest of dead, rock-hard trees you encountered outside of the city. They had seemed utterly barren, but could there be something *inside* of them?

You should check this out. Do you bring a cuffed Sadon along with you just in case? Hacna can pilot while you watch him.
>>
>>2225893
Yeah bring Sadon with us. We're gonna need a really big tree.
>>
>>2225893
We should bring the cuffed Sadon along with us. If we continue talking to him, we might be able to even recruit him.
>>
>>2225893
Can the ship actually fly? We may need Hacna to do repairs
>>
We need some non-irradiated soil too right? I guess maybe we can take these crystals to an expert to have it cut in a way that's actually usable but it's be nice to have a fallback option as well.
>>
We should ask him if there are still any Jedi here. He mentioned fighting them.
>>
>>2225893
Take Sadon with us, we can feed him more propaganda while on it.
Plus we may need these tribals help to cut down those anti-air things, whoever used them.
>>
>>2225893
You haul Sadon to his feet and start to walk him towards your ship, but he stops and nods his head at one of the plasma spears.

"We will need," he says. You pick one up and grasp it firmly in your free hand, careful to keep it away from him - not that he can really grab for it. You then sit him down on a slab of concrete while you get to work trying to free the Fury of the steel girder still pinning it to the ground. It takes a frustrating amount of effort, but this time you don't have to worry about the angry natives charging at you on warbeasts. Their mounts remain off in the distance, braying and bellowing, but their masters are dead.

With a tremendous *boom* you throw the girder back into the wall it had fallen from, and it finally stays put. Once you and Sadon are aboard the ship, you walk him to the cockpit to find Hacna furiously tapping at the flight console.

"Will it fly?" you say to her.

"Eh..." She lets out a low grumble as she finishes scrolling through the diagnostic data. "It will fly. It will not fly well."

That's all you can ask for at this point - you don't want to stick around while Hacna tries to run repairs with whatever on-board parts she can scrounge up.

"Who was shooting at us?" you ask Sadon. "Was that you?"

He nods.

"Are there any left?"

"No," he says. "You killed them all."

Despite the grimness of his words, there's no hostility to them - not like when he was ranting and raving about the hated Jedi. You suppose that life is a cheap on a world like this - Sadon himself killed one of his clanmates for trying to flee the fight. That sort of hard character is easy for you to understand, but hard to reconcile with the nostalgic yearning he seems to hold for his world's living past.

"Take us into the air, Hacna. Keep us low."

She starts to stammer a protest, but you meet her with a fierce glare that says you're tired, frustrated, and ready to take it out on her if she puts up too much of a fight. A moment later you're rising off the ground, then lurching to the left as Hacna dislodges the Fury's right wing from the building you had crashed into. Sadon staggers uneasily beside you, looking every which way with his mouth hanging open as he experiences what must be his first trip aboard a starship - you wonder at how well he would take space travel.

Ten minutes later, you're back at the graveyard of dead wood you had visited earlier. Sadon stumbles to the exit ramp before you even touch down, seeming very eager to be back on solid ground. You join him with spear in hand, and approach one of the trees.
>>
>>2226019
"The crystals are inside?" you ask him.

He nods. "You cut it."

Carefully activating the questionably-constructed weapon, you then point it at one of the gnarled tree branches and begin sawing away with the blazing white light shooting forth from the tip. There's a sort of squealing hiss as the blade cuts through the wood, and the weapon vibrates with a worrying hum that almost has you releasing Sadon so you can make *him* do it.

But after a few moments you've cut through the hardened branch, and the whole thing crashed down to the dirt like a spindly slab of stone. You switch off the spear and toss it to the ground, then stoop down to get a look at the exposed section of the branch. All around the central core are tiny white crystals, just like the ones that power the natives' spears. They're far too small and ugly to work in a lightsaber, and you're presented with the same problem you faced before.

You need raw materials, so that you can forge your *own* crystal with your *own* will. Huffing an annoyed sigh, you pick up the branch and shake it in the hopes that you dislodge some larger crystal lurking within. Instead, what falls out is a steady stream of fine, dark gray silt that looks much like the dirt at your feet. You peak back within the branch's insides to find that the core of it has emptied out, though the small crystals *around* the core remain.
>>
>>2226025
"Hacna!" you shout, waving to the ship. "Soil sampler!"

She walks up the ramp, then returns with the mineral analyzer. A quick test of the fine grit you emptied out of the branch reveals your greatest hope was right on the mark. The composition is just like that of Tion's soil, but without the radioactive isotopes resulting from the supernova that ravaged the planet. The soil that had been drawn up into the trees was protected by the bizarrely resilient wood, and remained there long after they had died. You wonder what these crystal-forming trees must have looked like when they were in full bloom.

Kneeling down, you remove a glove and pick up some of the dirt. You can feel it, clear and unmistakable - life, just as you sensed in the Kyber crystal. It's not a distinct emotion, like you would sense in a sentient being. It's not fear, or anger, or lust, or love. It's more primal than that.

"Are you crying?" Hacna says uneasily. You blink your eyes clear and rise to your feet, then order her to grab a secure container from the ship. You get to work cutting off branch after branch, and empty them all out into the metal box before securing the air-tight seal. You have enough raw material here to make dozens of Kyber crystals - there's no harm in being thorough.

After directing Hacna to take the container back on board, you turn your attention to Sadon who sits on the ground in silence. You now need to make a decision about what to do with him, and he knows it. He doesn't beg for mercy or clemency, though - he just stares at you.

You have every confidence that you now possess what you need to forge your crystal on Nez Peron. Is there anything else you want to do here? There's also the matter of Sadon. You would like to get those handcuffs back, one way or the other.
>>
>>2226028
Well I guess we could offer to bring him with us. He seems to be a capable warrior and he hates the Jedi with a passion. Uncuff him and ask if he wants to stay or if we wants to kill Jedi.
>>
>>2226028
Offer to take him to another planet, if he'd prefer to at least risk his chances literally anywhere else than the shithole Tion has become.
>>
>>2226028
Companion get. Let’s take him with, his hatred makes him a perfect sith companion.
>>
>>2226028
I dare say our master is rubbing off on us.

Offer him a deal. Come with us, fight for us and serve, kill when we require. He come back someday and kill all the false god believers or take his new chance among the star. Jedi spnd their lives trapped, Sith forge, or take, their destinies.
>>
>>2226028
Let him go

He is too much hardhead to be usefull slave. Would take ages to get him used to all the technology and he does not really even like us.
>>
>>2226028
Head to Nez Peron it's light saber time

Recruit him offer him the chance to serve us and kill Jedi
>>
>>2226064
He won't be a slave he will be a servant. Also i sugest training him with vibroblades. I thing it would be more usefull then his torchspear. Although if we make a crystal we could give it to him and create the lightsaber spear.
>>
Heck if we manage to create doze of these crystals we can even give some so Sebon can guide his people to victory against the other tribes
>>
I just realized this also solves the issue of us never having a good sparring partner
>>
>>2226147
That is a great point! Time to work on our saber skills again
>>
>>2226028
You go to Sadon and undo his cuffs, allowing him to rise uneasily to his feet. He grips his wounded right shoulder with his left arm, and stares at you expectantly.

"There's a war coming, you know." You point up at the hazy brown sky. "Jedi and Sith will fight again."

Sadon nods slowly, though you doubt he understands the true scope of what you speak of. The propaganda video you showed him may have given him a taste, but this is a man who grew up on a planet where 'war' means twenty men stabbing each other with scrap metal.

"You have a choice to make," you continue. "Will you expend your anger on a dead world that can no longer feel it..." His breath catches in his throat, and his eyes go wide as you lean in towards him. "...Or will you take it to the stars."

For a few moments he just stares at you, the only sound the howl of wind snaking through the trees and pelting the two of you with dust. Then, he raises his hand and points a finger at the sky.

This young man has caught your interest. Maybe it's because he's managed to survive for so long on a world hostile to even the most basic forms of life. You're reminded of your own determination to succeed in the vicious halls of the Sith academy.

However, taking him with you now is problematic. You may be a full-fledged Sith, but you are still an Apprentice. Your Master is not likely to humor you bringing home an irradiated human with no identifiable skills or talents besides a raw determination to survive - he might just order you to kill him. You briefly consider stashing him on a safer world until you can figure something out, but that presents its own difficulties. Unless you simply drop him off in the wilderness, you would need to provide some shelter for him, bought with credits from your Master's accounts... it's simply too cumbersome to manage.

A better idea comes to you. More dangerous, but more viable. You could give him the means to treat his wounded shoulder, as well as a way for you to contact him if you should ever return to Tion. If you later came up with a way to keep him around with no objections from your Master, you could then retrieve Sadon.
>>
>>2226299
A better idea comes to you. More dangerous, but more viable. You could give him the means to treat his wounded shoulder, as well as a way for you to contact him if you should ever return to Tion. If you later came up with a way to keep him around with no objections from your Master, you could then retrieve Sadon.

Let's give him the ability to start taking over the world. A firm ally today, is a useful pawn tommorrow.
>>
>>2226310
This. We'll give him a way to contact us, and teach him algebra. That'll really show these savages on Tion.
>>
>>2226299
Yeah let's leave him here for now with the intent to return for him someday. There's not much else we can do. Stress the importance of training even harder than he ever has to prepare for the coming war.
>>
>>2226299
Would we get in trouble for giving him a weapon to make sure he continues to survive while we're gone?
>>
>>2226324
I doubt our master would miss a sword or a blaster. He's rich, and he'll be too pleased with our progress to really raise a stink about it.
>>
>>2226325
Plus we could blame Hacna for losing it
>>
Also could we leave him training instructions? I'm suspicious that he may be force sensitive but I could be wrong.
>>
>>2226299
Just tell our master he is a new slave. The guy loves slaves.
>>
>>2226327
>I'm suspicious that he may be force sensitive but I could be wrong.

You don't sense any Force-sensitivity within him. Deliberately masking such a thing is theoretically possible, but only for learned Masters - not someone like this.
>>
>>2226331
Yeah, but Sadon has no talents beyond survival and sheer determination. Hell, our master might just have us kill him on a lark. It's better to invest in the future than expect short-term gratification.
>>
>>2226334
Ah. Yeah that makes sense. I was under the impression that deflecting blaster shots with a lightsaber typically required force sensitivity and it almost seemed like he had a telepathic bond with those bigass mounts earlier.
>>
>>2226334
So let's just stress the fact that as he is now he is too weak to kill any Jedi. While we're gone he needs to wipe out all of his enemies while fighting with the most underhanded and unpredictable style he can and then we will take him.
>>
>>2226310
>A better idea comes to you. More dangerous, but more viable. You could give him the means to treat his wounded shoulder, as well as a way for you to contact him if you should ever return to Tion. If you later came up with a way to keep him around with no objections from your Master, you could then retrieve Sadon.

Equip him with a blaster or two, maybe some spare Bacta patches or even a Speeder bike if we got one. Also leave him with a datapad showing images of the war between Jedi and Sith.

Then give him the quest of uniting his people for war against the Jedi. Its as good as a quest hook as any
>>
inb4 we forget about this dude for years and come back to find him as the warlord leader of a tribe who consider us a god
>>
>>2226343
This will probably keep him occupied until we return
>>
>>2226387
>inb4 we forget his name upon our return
>>
>>2226299
You've come to a decision.

"Kneel," you say to Sadon as you draw your sword and extend the blade. He takes a weary step back, but quickly recognizes that you're not moving to attack. Slowly, and somewhat reluctantly, he drops both knees to the dirt. You had meant for him to take one knee, like you had with Lord Veredious, but this is no established ritual. You just need this moment to feel significant for Sadon. You tap the flat of your blade on each of his shoulders, drawing only a slight tremble from him as you hit the burnt right one.

"Stand," you say. He does so, more quickly than he knelt. You levitate the blade in the air and move it towards him, holding it there until he grasps it by the hilt and lowers it to his side. It's a more reliable weapon than the crystal-powered pikes, and just as capable of blocking small-arms blaster fire. How he managed to do such a thing, you still can't say. Not through the Force, you know that. Sheer luck, maybe - though that seems a lazy answer.

You call Hacna back out of the ship, and order her to grab a medkit and the same datapad you showed Sadon earlier. Without a long-range transmitter, he won't be able to access any extra-planetary data networks, but he'll still have the footage of the Jedi temple's destruction at the hands of the Sith. Hacna returns, and you direct her to set both items down beside Sadon.

"That datapad will allow me to find you, even if it runs out of power. Don't lose it."

Sadon looks at you in surprise and irritation. "You leave?"

"For now," you say quickly. "And you're not done here. I want you to find the greatest warriors this planet has, and gather them to you."

He frowns. "*I* am the greatest warrior."
>>
>>2226447
"Then, the second-greatest warriors." You reach a hand under your tunic and remove the medallion hanging around your neck. At the Sith academy, it had been a comforting memento of a time before. But for the last six months, it had felt like an increasingly heavy weight slung over your shoulders. Tilting it from left to right, you catch just enough sunlight to take one last look at the flowing curves of the medallion’s design.

The floral patterns remind you of Voss' geometric art, but the neat patterns of your medalion abruptly end in mean-looking blades that contrast sharply with the rest of it. You use the Force to lift the necklace into the air, then drape it over Sadon's neck. He seems to feel none of the weight it brought you. If anything, he stands taller as he places a hand over the medallion.

"I will wait," he says confidently. You give him a sharp nod, then wave Hacna back onto your ship before bringing the Fury back into the air. A few minutes later you're in orbit, standing behind Hacna as she pilots you safely out of Tion's gravity well. By all indications, the ship is functioning fine - though it'll need more than trivial repairs to get it looking decent. You'd also do best to avoid any combat until you know the true state of the ship's protective plating.

"What now?" Hacna hisses. U4 fails to properly convey her impatience, but you can tell by the Weequay's tone that she's just as ready to leave as you are.

To Nez Peron? You give some thought as to whether to have a chat with Hacna about what you just did with Sadon. There is a distinct possibility that your Master will speak to her to see if anything interesting happened. If you try to convince Hacna to feed him some lie, she could either refuse or end up inadvertently spilling the truth to the sharp old man.

On the other hand, you could simply not address it at all. If Veredious were to ever come to you and ask why you did what you did, you could tell him it was an amusing little diversion - one that you may come back to check on the results of, should the mood ever strike you.
>>
>>2226452
Yeah don't address it, we just felt like playing god to see if anything useful might be made out of this supposedly dead planet.
>>
>>2226452
Don't bother to address it. Trying to lie to our master and getting caught would be far worse than just telling him we we're fucking around with the natives and want to see what happens.
>>
>>2226452
Let's just head to Nez Peron, I don't see why our master would disapprove of what we did apart from how we gave away a datapad and a vibroblade but that seems trivial
>>
>>2226452
Don't bother to address it. Makes us seem less interested and invested in the results of the experiment. Go to Nez Paron and make our crazy saber.

I guess after this we'd be a proper apprentice, if only lacking in a suit of nice combat armor.
>>
>>2226452
No reason to address it. It also leaves us an option for use of a personal army in the future ever we need one.
>>
>>2226452
Ah man we should have brought him. We could take him to nez because if there is a crystal compressor there most likely it's filled with Sith apprentice trying to grab at it to make.

Mayne there is even some apprentice laying traps for the others going towards there. Bit i digress, it will be fun to come back.and see him as a proud warlord of his people.

Also don't bother hopefully Hacna will be so amazed/interested in our strange behaviour she will do it by herself.
>>
>>2226584
I doubt Apprentices are that cutthroat with one another, unless they're under orders from their master or have preexisting vendettas. We killed anyone who might have had a problem with us back on Korriban.

I wouldn't be surprised if we saw Tuija on Nez, though. If we waited this long for a lightsaber, chances are she did as well.
>>
I like how we just set things up to see what happens. We did something similar by giving Sebuk a chance to take over that sith lady's body
>>
>I doubt Apprentices are that cutthroat with one another

Not all of then, but some are.
>>
>>2226452
ou direct Hacna to chart a course for Nez Peron, a trip which will take you deep into the Imperial core worlds. Surprisingly, she doesn't object to another four days of hyperspace travel each way. She's probably just content with the fact that you'll be landing on a sleepy farm world, and not a nova-ravaged deathtrap.

The trip itself is passed in much the same passively productive way you spent the flight to Tion - through training and meditation. A few times, you barge into Hacna's cargo hold to open up the crate of Kyber crystal material to run your hands through it and confirm to yourself that the power you felt is still there. Hacna coughs and sputters until you leave, but does not dare utter more of an objection than that. She is clearly confused by your having spared Sadon, but also awed by the display you had made of killing his seven companions. If she doesn't know quite what to make of you anymore, that is fine - unpredictability will keep her from growing complacent in your service.

When you reach Nez Peron, the reception is far different from the one you received on Tion. Your destination is a small city built for the sole purpose of overseeing the surrounding farmland. 'Seenine', they call it. It takes you a moment to recognize that the docking official on your ship's comm channel is saying 'C-9', and you assume the locals have adopted the gentler-sounding name after tiring of its blander official designation. The city is dominated by a single, towering complex of white and black durasteel, with smaller outlying structures scattered around it.

Hacna sets you down on one of the uncovered landing pads in the city's outskirts, a huge loading zone designed for grain-hauling cargo ships. You are greeted by a small parade of land cruisers and officials, which puts you on your guard. Then you realize that Hacna had transmitted the ship's credentials, and some extra-attentive official had likely noticed the distinctive model of ship you are flying. The Fury is no common passenger vessel. With a little more digging on their part, they would realize they it was owned by Lord Veredious.

You and Hacna leave the Fury behind, and are quickly met by one of the waiting officials. A small, mustached man in a white uniform, marking him as a member of one of the Empire's scientific Spheres. The Sphere of Agriculture, you have to assume - little else of importance happens on Nez Peron.

"Lord Varrus!" the man says, bowing so deep you think his nose might scrape the ground. "I am administrator Kellion. It is an honor to have you here."

You wait until he rises, then extend your arm and give him a firm handshake. The brief contact allows you to feel the easing of tension within him - a change that is clearly displayed on his face, as well. Sith Lords and Apprentices - *especially* Apprentices - are notoriously petty and violent people. He's relieved to find out that you're of a more reasonable variety.
>>
>>2226822
"Thank you, administrator." You peer past him, to the line of cruisers waiting for you. "I take it you know why I'm here?"

"Yes, my Lord. Your Master--" He cuts himself short and throws a fearful glance up at you, one that takes you a moment to understand. For a non-Sith, to refer to a 'Master' must sound somewhat demeaning.

"Lord Veredious--" he corrects himself. "--Let us know that you would be arriving to make use of the Geomorphic Compressor that was uncovered here."

"And you found it here?" you wonder.

"Nearby, my Lord. In the process of new land being flattened for fields."

If that's the case, it's something of a miracle the machine wasn't destroyed in the excavation process. Perhaps this is the Force at work, finding the most unlikely of ways to provide you with a lightsaber after your Master spent so long delaying.

"Lead on, administrator." You gesture to the vehicles, and you and Hacna follows Kellion into one in the middle of the line. A moment later you're driving towards the city center, past endless fields of golden wheat. The entire line of cruisers comes to a stop at one of the outlying buildings, a huge sealed warehouse with uniformed guards posted at the doors. They snap to attention at the sight of you, but you can tell by their uneasy demeanor and total lack of armor that they're no trained soldiers - Nez Peron has little use for those.

"We weren't quite sure where else to keep it, my Lord," Kellion says, as if apologizing for putting what he assumes to be a sacred relic in so mundane a place. "We've attached the proper power supply, as Lord Veredious ordered."

He motions for the guards outside the warehouse to pull open the doors, and you and Hacna follow him a short distance inside. Far at the other end of the room sits a massive machine of beige stone and gray metal, embedded with crystalline lighting that makes the whole thing glow a faint crimson.

You turn and take the box of Tionese soil from Hacna, then look to Kellion.

"I want these guards gone." You gesture to the men who had been posted outside. "And divert all ground traffic away from here. I don't want to be disturbed."

He gives an eager done. "It will be done, my Lord."

"I've extended your leash to the city," you say to Hacna, tapping your wrist communicator. "But I want the Fury repaired before you do anything else."

She grumbles her trademark 'Eh' of wavering reluctance, but finally mutters a weary 'Ok'.
>>
>>2226824
"No one else enters until I leave," you say to Kellion. He gives you one final nod, and the two leave you in the warehouse, shutting the door behind you. Box in hand, you make your way to the stone machine looming before you and begin to examine it. Its complexity becomes clearer the closer you get, though you still can hardly imagine how it functions. You suppose there's nothing to do but simply try to use it.

At the bottom of the forge is attached a sort of metal altar, and the center of that is embedded a small half-sphere. You lift it up on the hinge it's attached to the forge with, and find you're looking down at the inner workings of the machine. Infinitely complex machinery and primitive electronics stare back at you, but you do see one thing you recognize - the cylindrical receptacle in the center. That bit, you recognize from your time at the Sith academy when you were shown the more modern version of such a machine.

You take the box and pour a handful of soil into the cylinder, then dust your hands clean, close the sphere, and set the box beside the far wall. You can see the power cabling Kellion mentioned, and you have no reason to doubt that the machine is ready to be activated... except there's no way to do so. No view screens, levers, buttons, nothing. Letting out a short hiss of frustration, you give a hard slap to the metal altar at the base... and the lights running all over the larger stone machine flash to life, only to die again. Tentatively, you deliver another blow to the machine. This time, nothing happens at all.

You're nearing the end of your dwindling patience. Taking a few steps backward to examine the Compressor further, you find yourself imagining tearing into the thing to see what makes it tick.

And the machine flashes to life *again*, this time accompanied by a low hum of activity you can feel in your bones. Carefully gathering your thoughts, you decide to do a little experiment. You imagine yourself opening the metal sphere, and finding a perfectly-crafted crystal that you grasp covetously in both hands. As the picture in your mind becomes clearer, the Compressor roars to life - and you smile.

It seems the ancient Sith found a brilliantly simple way of keeping the wrong hands off of their machinery - by making a button only they could press.

The Compressor will respond to any powerful emotion. You should pick one in particular, ideally an emotion that you know well enough to maintain until the forge has completed its work. Stoking the fires of your anger will produce a red crystal. Nurturing your never-ending hunger and greed will result in an orange one. Prideful appreciation of your self and your accomplishments will make a purple crystal.

>Anger
>Hunger
>Pride
>>
>>2226827
>Pride
Seems fitting after we just played god for fun
>>
>>2226827
I see pride in us.
Yet there should be appreciation for hunger in a Sith.
>>
>>2226827
>Pride
>>
>>2226827
>Hunger
I really hope the fact that we went to Tion for dirt instead of this lame farm planet yields some benefit here too
>>
>>2226827
Could we make one of those weird ones with a off glow of a different color?

Cause if so I'm adding too my post here >>2226839


>Hunger and Pride
>>
>>2226861
Seems kinda risky, making crystals is really finicky
>>
>>2226827
>Pride
>>
Rolled 1 (1d2)

>>2226827
1=Anger
2=Pride
>>
>>2226827
Pride
>>
>>2226827
>Pride
>>
>>2226827
>>Hunger
Feels better for lightsaber
>>
>>2226827
>>Hunger
>>
>>2226827
Orange is ugly.
Purple is gay and a mixture of Blue and Green: Jedi colors
Red is the only way to go.
>>
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>>2227038
And your taste is shit.
>>
>>2227038
Orange is fine fuckface.
But yeah purple is fucking stupid
>>
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>>2227047
>>2227062
We're Sith not Vitamin Sith m'kay?
>>
>>2227038
>Purple is gay and a mixture of Blue and Green: Jedi colors

>doesn't know how colors work
>>
>>2227080
That was terrible...but it made me smirk a bit.
>>
>>2227083
Hey I got it half right. Either way I wouldn't want glorious red be tainted by pussy-ass blue.
>>
>>2226827
Anger

I'M ANGRY
ANGRY AT JEDI
>>
>>2227117
Well we aren't black enough to have a purple lightsaber anyway. We should just use a yellow one.

Joke's on you, yellow is also a Jedi color
>>
Pride:
>>2226831
>>2226836
>>2226839
>>2226866
>>2226885
>>2226911


Hunger
>>2226844
>>2226914
>>2226946

Anger:
>>2227038
>>2226873
>>2227121
>>
>>2227136
Isn't orange the mix between red and yellow?
>>
>>2226827
>Anger
IIRC anger was our beat feature when this quest started.
>>
>>2226827
>Anger

Red on Red
And lets get us a badass black robe while we're at it
>>
>>2227146
No it's a mix of seafoam and chamomile.
>>
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>>2227185
Oh you...
>>
Rolled 11 (1d11)

>>2226831
>>2226836
>>2226839
>>2226866
>>2226873
>>2226885
>>2226911
>>2227038
>>2227121
>>2227147
>>2227178

Rolling between the two most popular options
>>
>>2227308
Well red won. Red is fine anyway.
>>
>>2227320
When it comes to manufacturing a crystal you can straight up choose the color of it by altering it with the Force. Unless canon has changed that as well. Most just use red because reasons.
>>
>>2227308
Dude you gotta set a voting time limit and stick with it
>>
>>2226827
With the materials prepared and your mind steeled, there is nothing left but to begin. You assume a meditative position in front of the machine, kneeling down with your legs folded under you. Reaching deep within the cold confines of your heart, you search until you find the tiniest spark of anger lurking deep within.

Fed with memories and regrets, dreams and worries, that softly-glowing ember grows. It roars to life, and the infernal machine before you echoes the turmoil within you. The ancient forge is a part of you, a tool of your will. Everything in this galaxy is either an extension of yourself, or a threat. If something will not bend to your will, it is your enemy - even if it doesn't know it yet.

The forge responds to your oppressive fury, humming with energy both tangible and intangible as immense pressure builds up within the sphere you deposited the raw minerals into. For a moment, that pressure seems as if it will escape, but you hold it in, fists clenched and teeth grinding as you extend your control over every last inch of the ancient device. You still don't understand how it works, but you do not need to understand a slave.

Minutes turn into hours, and still you sit. Your muscles ache, your head wavers from side to side. Total collapse seem imminent. You dredge up every enemy you've ever faced, from Overseer Harkun to Loman to the Tuk'ata that nearly took your hand off - but it's still not enough.

With nothing left to hate, you turn that anger inward and direct it at yourself. Your own failures, shortcomings, and flaws, all laid bare before you. Embarrassment and shame are fed into the purifying flame at your core, purified into a formless energy that can turn something worthless into something indestructible.

You are near exhaustion, and this process demands a powerful control of the Force. Roll me 1d6 (best of 3, as always) to determine the quality of your work.
>>
Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>2227394
REEEEEEE
>>
Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>2227394
>>
Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>2227394
6
>>
Eh
>>
Rolled 3 (1d5)

>>2227394
check my one.
>>
>>2227403
That's slightly above average, so we didn't do bad. It's not as if we can never make another saber in the future. This is just our first.
>>
We should have brought Hacna in as a focus aid.
>>
>>2227403
We should get a bonus from our force skill right?
>>
>>2227423
>"Just stand there for a while."
>"This is taking too long. Hurry up. Can we leave yet? I'm bored. This is stupid"
>the machine explodes
>>
>>2227419
We did collected enough dirt for building a couple of crystals.
>>
>>2227428
C'mon guys, we don't need to hit a 6 with our first attempt to make a saber. It's fine how it is.

>>2227436
This is true. We could save it for the future, or spend another day to try again. Depends on our timetable.
>>
>>2227432
>>2227428
Well we would definetly get angrier with her around
>>
>>2227440
>>2227436
More than a couple. Its the pressure machine that is the trouble.
>>
>>2227440
I think our timetable is of two weeks? Althought i don't know how much long we still have.
>>
>>2227462
Well the way you say it it seems we need to spend sometime here maybe we can manage to atune our force powers by doing so.
>>
>>2227477
We've spent about a week total. It took about three days for us to get to Tion, and another four for Nez. This isn't including the time spent on both planets so far.
>>
>>2227483
So we still have one more week. Maybe we can stay for a little bit long and practice with the machine? Although thay would mean we might end up running into other sith apprentices comming by. And once the fuckers realize they can't use it because they suck at force powers they will try to steal our crystal/crystals
>>
>>2227440
Well based on the Google doc rules any additional preparation and our skill level with the force should give a bonus to the roll. Just saying. If going to Tion for the materials doesn't get us some bonus I don't know what would
>>
>>2227492
That's a big jump in assumptions.
>>
I'm pretty sure our master only arranged for a single use of it for now. It seems like it's pretty energy-intensive so it's not gonna be a free service.
>>
>>2227502
Yeah i know. But i still want to stay as long as we can so we can practice using the force in the machine.
>>
>>2227511
I didn't realized it was only for one free use. Well whatever it's just our first crystal anyways.
>>
>>2227527
kill a jedi and use his later. Master wont talk shit to us if we get our second one by killing a jedi
>>
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>>2227394
The more you sit, the more certain you are that you're going to die. Your mouth is parched, and breathing hurts. You're slumped forward, barely able to keep your head off of the floor and sweat drips from your brow. From what little sense of time you have left, it's been hours - but it feels like days have passed.

You can't let yourself fail. It's so close to complete - you can feel that as sure as you can feel your own tenuous grasp to reality slipping through your trembling fingers. Your control over the process fails from time to time, and you can no longer maintain your total hold over it. Just when it seems as if you will be beaten into submission by a mere machine, there's a tremendous *thunk* that rattles your brain in your skull and sets your head pounding.

Then, the pressure inside you eases. The process is complete. You gasp out, collapsing onto your side and staring up at the monstrous device of metal and stone. The red lights running along it fade, and you are left to crawl your way on all fours to the altar at the base. With shaking hands you reach up, and carefully pry open the orb you had deposited the raw materials into. Steam and heat billow forth, but you don't dare close your eyes - you wait until the fog clears, eyes darting frantically for any sign of success.

You sense it before you see it. Your hand darts out, snatching the thumb-sized crystal from its container and bringing it up to your face to examine in the dim light of the warehouse. It's warm from the forge, but it is also *alive*. You have done it. The crystal is almost completely clear, and the color is vivid. The facets are nearly symmetrical - more than enough for a properly functioning lightsaber, which is a relief. Kyber crystals cannot be cut to symmetry and then used. You would have had to forge an entirely new one, a process that you cannot even begin to fathom performing again so soon.

Even pushing yourself to a feet is a task like no other. You've poured part of your soul into this little gem of crimson. It will take time for the fire within you to replenish.

Working your way back to the front doors of the warehouse, you try to slide one open only to find that you simply don't have the strength. You slump to your knees and bang on the door with your fist, until finally it opens. Administrator Kellion is staring down at you, his face aghast.

"Oh, thank the Emperor!" he exclaims, helping you prop yourself up against the edge of the opened door. The sky outside is dark, and Nez Peron's two moons hang in a line just above the wheat field in the distance.
>>
>>2227559
"It's night time?" you wonder. Your voice comes out as a dry rasp, and your throat stings terribly. You and Hacna had landed early in the morning, and by your estimation the process of creating the crystal had taken 6 or so hours. Apparently, your internal clock had been thrown off by the strain of the ordeal.

"That it is, my Lord."

You motion for him to help you to your feet, but you're forced to once again prop yourself up against the door. This is beyond cramped legs from kneeling for so long. He hands you a canteen from his belt, which you snatch and begin chugging from before you even realize what you're doing. The water is like nothing that has ever touched your lips before - you didn't know it could taste so good.

"We worried you were..." He swallows and clears his throat. "Dead, my Lord."

You lower the canteen and give him a confused look. "Dead? It's been half a day."

He returns your stare with one of equal bewilderment. "It's been two and a half days, my Lord."

You drop the container to the ground and roll up your sleeve, then power up your wrist computer to look at the date and time. The man is right. You nearly ask him how, why, what happened - but you know better than him. You had lost yourself totally in the process of forging a crystal worthy of you, and your dedication had been rewarded.

"Get me a cruiser," you say to him, able to speak a bit better now that your throat isn't as dry as Korriban. He runs off, and you slump back down to the ground before holding your newly-acquired crystal up to the sky.

Is it time to return to Voss? Your lightsaber hilt is on your ship, but you feel as if your first activation of your new weapon should wait until you return to your Master. Assembly of the completed lightsaber is a process you have practiced and mastered in preparation for that moment.

The Fury is already space-worthy, and any remaining repairs can continue on Voss. You can contact Hacna through your communicator - wherever she went, it can't have been far.
>>
>>2227567
Yep, time to get Hacna and return. Make sure we've still got our Tion soil.
>>
>>2227567
Also if she lost her translator droid we're gonna shock the shit out of her
>>
>>2227500

Yeah, Force skill was +2 and then you got a +1 for the soil from Tion. I tried to hint at the latter with being able to feel the life in the handful of dirt. The roll here was for creating an exceptional crystal, which would have been a Longshot and required a 9+ (so, an actual roll of 6).

A critical failure would've resulted in a sputter-prone crystal like Kylo Ren's (no crossguard, though).

^Just so people know I'm not pulling the numbers from my ass. I'm sure I'll have to tweak the numbers as I go, but so far I'm happy with the system I've got going.
>>
>>2227586
Yeah I'm liking the system
>>
>>2227567
Time to go back. We have already done what we came here to do. Now we return
>>
>>2227567
Let's bounce.
>>
>>2227589
Look after seing a guy kill six people as easy as we did i would do my best to behave.

Hopefully she didn't thought we were so weak to the point in dying during these two days we were away.
>>
>>2227592
Cool man. So we just got an average to slightly above average quality crystal?
>>
>>2227612
>Cool man. So we just got an average to slightly above average quality crystal?

Correct
>>
Well once we get a bit more in touch with De Force and we can get around to a modern machine or just another round with an ancient one we can use some of our space rock dust to make a hopefully specialspecial crystal.
>>
>>2227627
I wonder if our master will bother to ask were we found the dirt for the crystal. And if he ask should we be truthfull with him about it?
>>
>>2227592
I actually heard somewhere that the crossguards release some of the unstable pressure of the crystal or something. Still a shit design though.
>>
>>2227592
I was sort of hoping the Tion soil would give some kind of more esoteric buff to the lightsaber but that's cool too. That seems to be more of a KOTOR-esque concept than anything in the main canon, as far as I know.
>>
>>2227667
Well, a natural occuring source of Khyber that the Jedi don't know about wuld b a pretty big boon for the Sith-- considering it could still be used for superweapons and such. That is, if they don't know about it.

Or we keep it under our hat until we need to call in that particular resource.
>>
>>2227925
He'll ask Hacna for sure. Also I'd be shocked if he didn't have a tracker on our ship. Might as well just tell him about it if you ask me.
>>
>>2227941
If he ask we tell him about it.

>>2227925
Good point. Maybe we can have as our first diplomatic mission to be go and help Sadon to become a warlord and in return to us he let the Sith cut the stone trees.
>>
>>2227567
After gorging yourself near to sickness on water and food, you contact Hacna through your communicator. The tracker in her collar shows her as being in the city's main superstructure, probably in one of the company cantinas.

"Ah!" comes U4's voice on the other end. Without the benefit of physical proximity, you can't catch a hint of the Weequay's own voice. "You are alive?"

You frown as you mill about the exterior of the warehouse, stretching your weakened legs.

"Yes, I'm alive!" you snap. Hacna is silent for a moment.

"Ah... good," she finally says, with all the same enthusiasm she put into everything else on your venture. You order her to meet administrator Kallion outside, and soon you two are back on the Fury and beginning the six day trip back to Voss.

You keep the extra soil from Tion, but you can't imagine ever being ready to use it again. Still you feel a hair's breadth away from death's door. All you want to do is sleep, which you do frequently and for long stretches of time. It makes the six days pass in a blur.

When you set back down in Voss-Ka's starport, you encounter a surprising difficulty - removing Hacna from the cargo bay she has turned into a perfect replica of her workshop.

"Leave?" she asks you, looking around at her crate-filled home away from home.

"Yes. Get this all back the way it was." You gesture at the tool-lined walls and dirty rags she has laid on every conceivable surface. Hacna simply glares at you for a moment, then stomps over to the wall and tears down one of the racks she had set up.

"Lord Varrus says leave, I will leave!" she shouts, dismantling the room with frustrated intensity. "Lord says do, I will do! No problem for Hacna!"
>>
>>2230371
You shake your head and leave - you're still too exhausted to bother disciplining her. One of your Master's servants is waiting in the landing bay to receive you, and the two of you take a cruiser to your home outside the city, leaving Hacna behind for now.

Lord Veredious is waiting for you in the courtyard at the center of the manor, which is unusual. He never *waits* - he is always doing something.

"Well?" he says as you walk into the sun-lit space. Voss' evening sun has dipped below the walls of the courtyard, bathing the white stone in a gentle orange light. You take your inactive lightsaber hilt from your belt, and with the other hand fish the Kyber crystal from your tunic pocket, then hold out both.

Veredious smiles. "Very good," he says, his expression once again turning serious. "Continue."

You point your palms upward and lift both objects into the air, unscrewing the caps at the end of the curved hilt and dismantling the weapon's delicate inner workings. The crystal drifts slowly between the focusing lens and power matrix, and you begin the process of re-assembling it just as it was, with that one vital addition. The caps click back into place, and you grasp saber in both hands. Veredious does not say a word as you take a deep breath in, hold it, and then press down on the saber's button with your thumb.

A bright red blade of pure light hums to life, pulsating with an incredible energy. Everything else in the world seems to fade into blackness before the intense glow of your weapon.

"Are you ready?" Veredious says.

You move your blade to the side to see that he has drawn his own purple lightsaber, and holds it at his side.

You're too exhausted from the ordeal of crafting your weapon to use it so soon. You can hardly keep your eyes open, let alone fight a veteran swordsman.
>>
>>2230373
>No, but let's go anyway
>>
>>2230373
We probably should have expected this. Let's go.

>>2230371
I don't understand why we're still getting upset over Hacna. She's saying the right thing and tone isn't something her people seem to understand.
>>
>>2230373
He is likely testing us and giving us reminder who is the master here...

Yes we are ready, give him our best shot
>>
Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>2230373
You're not prepared for this - not by a longshot. But the galaxy will not wait for you to be ready, and neither will your Master. You hold your lightsaber out in front of you, blade pointed slightly forward. Veredious assumes a very different stance, sliding one foot and bending both knees. The hilt of his lightsaber is held behind his head and the blade is directed straight at you, like a serpent coiled to strike.

He does not say another word. Without warning he launches himself at you, propelled forward by the power of the Force with unnatural speed and ferocity. The fury of the attack staggers you before it even makes contact. You slide a foot back, widening your stance to give yourself greater leverage as you prepare to parry his thrust.
>>
>>2230477
But the thrust comes even sooner than expected. His stance shifts just before he closes the distance with you, and the entire weight of his body is put into driving his blade into your chest. You pull your guard in close and catch it just in time to avoid a fatal wound, using the bottom half of your blade to throw his strike away from you. It's a clumsy parry, and gives him plenty of time to recover and deliver a short slash at your raised arms. You block the blow with a downward-pointed blade, catching his saber just before it makes contact with your left arm.

His attack failed, though that was likely by his own design. You could feel out his technique, the knowledge of which has grown hazy in your mind. You could also skip that and look for an opening in which to strike. Or, you could simply go for a crippling strike. Maybe taunting would set him off-balance? Lord Veredious is no simpleton, but you're a persuasive person.

Whatever your choice, roll me 1d6.
>>
Rolled 6 (1d6)

>>2230485
>Feel out his technique
>>
>>2230486
Damn son.
>>
>>2230486
i guess we'll go with this then
>>
>>2230485
Continue to get a feel for his style. He won't be familiar with how ours is changed by the curved hilt but we're not used to it either.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>2230485
Instead of trying to shove Veredious away, you quickly disengage and take the opportunity to re-establish your stance. It's not a window your opponent allows to stay open for long. He drives at you with short, measured strikes, and you fall into a defensive rhythm meant to ward him off with conservative movements while you feel out his technique. It's far more complex than that of the training droid you last dueled, but it's there. He's aggressive, but he's also careful - the aggression is a measured sort, meant to force you into learned patterns of behavior that allow him to search out your weak points.

Veredious seems surprised at the analytical look you're giving him as the two of you dart across the courtyard, but he's far from worried. He continues to drive at you with a faintly confident smile.
>>
>>2230507
In your attempt to put more space between the two of you, you don't keep a close enough eye on Veredious' own stride. He stops cold, even as you continue moving away. Then he lunges, in a repeat of his opening move. You might have given him the distance needed for the flourishing attack, but you far from having left yourself open. You step to the side, using the opportunity to deliver an upward swing at Veredious' exposed chest. He shifts his blade in time to catch it, but you can tell that he was not expecting such a well-executed counter-attack.

It's time to press the small advantage you've created and look for an opening. Or, you could taunt him for his failed strike - or even go for a blow lethal enough to end the fight here and now. If you were truly able to strike Veredious down in a duel like this, he would not be worthy as a master.

Roll me 1d6 with your choice. I will go with the most popular choice, but the best of first 3 rolls.
>>
Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>2230518
>Go for a crippling blow, Not a lethal one
>>
Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>2230518
>Search for opening and use it, even if it is weak strike
>>
Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>2230518
Strike him anywhere there is an opening
>>
Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>2230518
This time, your Master is the one to draw back. You eagerly press the advantage, feeling more in your element now that you can drive at him with the broad swings you are so used to. The lightsaber is far lighter than a vibrosword, and you move far faster than you would with a traditional blade. You could even easily wield it one-handed, were you not determined to put every ounce of power you could muster into your strikes. Despite how quickly you are growing accustomed to the weapon, you fail to put enough pressure on Veredious to force an opening in his defense. He may prefer to be on the attack, but you find that he is just at home on the defensive as well.
>>
Rolled 6 (1d6)

>>2230544
Whelp, put some REAL pressure on him then
>>
>>2230544
In a move that brings you no small amount of surprise, Veredious abruptly changes up his form, exchanging his measured strikes and parries for wide, arcing blows that mimic your own. Your lightsabers meet high in the air in a sizzling exchange of red and purple energy, and he gives you a tight grimace from between his raised arms. You slide your foot back, allowing him greater leverage - but only for a moment. Your knee flies straight into his gut, knocking the air from his lungs and making his defense crumple.

You know his technique, and you've found your opening. Do you go for the lethal strike? A non-lethal strike, one meant to make a point? Deliberately trying to contain your strike to a crippling one will make it more difficult to land.
>>
>>2230552
"Is this why you made me wait so long? Were you afraid?"
>>
Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>2230561
>Make it a point
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

>>2230564
>>2230570
>>
>>2230561
You shove his saber backwards, a move made easier by Veredious' own uneasy stance. With his style learned, his defenses probed, and your opening created, you draw back your lightsaber to strike at his exposed shoulder. Not a lethal strike - you have far too much left to learn from Veredious to allow him to die here and now. Maybe not bladework - this fight has made that clear. But Veredious has a knowledge of the Force that eclipses your own, and political connections you have only begun to map out in your head.

You thrust the blade forward, and for the briefest moment it seems as if it will connect. Then, Veredious seems to crumple to the ground - except he's not crumpling, he's *ducking*. Your saber hits air, and a split-second later a purple glow appears from the bottom of your vision. Remaining deathly still, you turn your eyes downward to see his weapon held in a reverse-grip, with the blade pointed up at your jaw. Swallowing hard, you deactivate your lightsaber and low your arm. A moment later, Veredious' own blade retracts and he steps away from you.

"Excellent, Apprentice." He is breathing hard, but you're hardly breathing at all - you can still picture that lightsaber poised to drive straight through your skull. "I haven't had a duel like that in years."

"Thank you, Master. You honor me." You regain your composure enough to give him a polite bow. The fight had been too fast and vicious to think, and your mind had been flooded with adrenaline. Now, the shock of near-death is setting in.

"I think you *are* ready," he muses.

You eye him uneasily. "Ready? What for?"

"Another recovery mission!" he beams, apparently feeling none of the shock that is washing over you. "You will be accompanying me on this one."
>>
>>2230609
That surprises you. For nearly two months now, Veredious has seen fit to play politics in Imperial space while you fulfill the requirements of his office with the Imperial Reclamation Service. For him to take up his responsibilities *after* you so thoroughly demonstrated your power is strange.

"I see that mind working." He points at your head, as if your thoughts are laid bare to him. "Don't worry, all will be explained in time."

"In time?" you wonder. He's speaking in awfully grandiose terms for what is undoubtedly another few days of digging in the dirt on some sleepy backwater planet.

"One week's time," he adds to his earlier statement. "Big things are coming, Apprentice. Big things." Veredious turns to walk inside the home, and you follow. "For now, rest up. I want you strong for this."

You want to probe further, to ask what exactly 'this' is, but Veredious is right. After that duel, you're even more exhausted than when you had arrived on Voss. You part ways with your Master, making your way across the palacious home and up a flight of stairs to your bedroom. You strip off your clothes and collapse onto your wood-framed bed, lightsaber still in hand.

You would be well-served to take it easy and recuperate, but you can't simply sleep an entire week away. How should you spend the first portion of it? Voss has many mysteries, though its holy sites are closed to outsiders. The nearby city of Voss-Ka has an Imperial enclave, with cantinas and marketplaces. Your diplomatic cover and Sith status gives you entry to just about any governmental building, both Voss and Imperial. You could try to interact with a Voss and learn more about the Force-sensitive people.

But there's no need to go to the city - the manor you live in is the size of a small village. Perhaps you are a masochist, and want to interact further with Hacna.

This is a vague, open-ended question, so just try and settle on a general idea of what you want to accomplish.
>>
>>2230613
Rest up for a bit.
Train with the lightsaber, possibly by finding a sparring partner in Voss-ka.
Meet a voss to learn more about them.
>>
>>2230613
Search for another apprentice to practice with now that we have a saber
>>
>>2230613
Meet Voss and learn more of about them, other than that an sparring partner would be good.
>>
>>2230613
Also we should sell all our jewelry at the marketplace when we get the chance
>>
>>2230635
Seems the best option
>>
Hey OP, would you mind letting us know when you leave the thread and estimating when you might return?
>>
>>2231264
>Hey OP, would you mind letting us know when you leave the thread and estimating when you might return?

The former I can do, the latter I can't since it depends entirely on when I happen to come up with the next bit of plot
>>
>>2231275
Oh that's okay, I kind of assumed you were just leaving to do other things
>>
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>>2230613
You've had some rude awakenings in your time - most of them involving an angry academy instructor - but they all pale in comparison to this morning's. For a moment, you're certain that you're dreamily staring at the sharp-toothed grin of the Tuk'ata you had fought over half a year ago. But as the fog of sleep clears and your eyes open wider, you see that you are staring up the scarred face of the blue-skinned Twi'lek, Marama. A good chunk of her left cheek was burned or cut away, giving her a permanent and grotesque rictus grin.

"Lord Varrus," she slurs, her speech made hard to understand by her deformity. "There are people outside asking for you."

You sit up, and she steps back to give you room to rise from the bed.

"People?" you ask as you dress in your usual tunic of dark gray.

"Voss," Marama says. "They wear orange robes with hoods."

Voss mystics, then. Youre used to seeing them walkjing alongside the road below your Master's estate. What theyre doing at your front door, you cant imagine. Once you finish getting dressed you follow Marama downstairs to the main entrance. She opens the door to reveal a line of seven robed Voss. Their skin is striped in bright shades of red and blue, like some tropical fish. They are hairless beneath their hoods, and their orange eyes are compounded, like that of a fly.

"Greetings," the centermost mystic says. Like all Voss, his voice is slightly mechanical sounding, as if he is speaking with the aid of a voice modulator.

"Good morning," you respond, looking around the garden courtyard for any other intruders. So far, it seems to just be these seven. "Can I help you?"

He nods. "Seer Oril requested your presence at the Tower of Prophecy on this day."

You know the building. In facts, its one of the few structures in Voss-Ka you know by name, as opposed to function. The Voss mystics hold meetings with both the Empire and Republic there, while each government tries to sway the Voss to their side. You are ostensibly on Voss as a diplpmatic aide to Lord Veredious, but neither of you has so much as stepped foot in that building.
>>
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>>2233165
"Did he mention a reason?" you ask the mystic. He shakes his head, and you frown. "Well, can you ask him?"

"Seer Oril has been dead for seven years." At the Voss' words, his companions bow their heads reverently and utter an incomprehensible prayer. You respond by attempting to rub the last vestiges of sleep from your eyes.

"But he requested me?" you ask.

The Voss gestures with his folded arms at the home you stand in. "He said the man who lives in this home should come."

"Lord Veredious owns this home," you remind him - though he probably never knew in the first place.

The sound of someone politely clearing their throat has you turning around, ehere you see Marama standing in the doorway, keeping the door held open.

"Lord Veredious left this morning, my Lord."

To return in a week, assuming those vague plans he mentioned still held true.

"Then, Seer Oril must have meant you," the Voss says to you. The degree of confidence he says it with is startling. There is no doubt in his mind that his long-dead Seer's orders must be carried out, and that any confusion is a result of his own misintepreting them.

Do you accept their invitation? And how seriously do you take it? The Voss mystics are supposedly gifted with powers of infallible precognition.
>>
>>2233173
Yeah let's go, might as well take this seriously until it's proven otherwise.
>>
>>2233173
Accept their invitation. Ask if only we can go or if we cab bring someone from the house with us. both as a mesaure of security for us and to prove our master we didn't do anything stupid.
>>
>>2233173
No harm in checking it out
>>
>So seven years ago some Seer voss had a prophecy and the person living in this home has something to do to it.

weird
>>
>>2233173
welp time to talk to the Force ghost I guess
>>
>>2233194
ANOTHER ONE! First was the Sith Lady in Korriban and now this Voss. Are we some kind of force ghost magnet?!
>>
>>2233173
If the Empire is trying to woo the Voss there must be something to their precognition. Let's take it seriously.
>>
>>2233173
Accept and take it half seriously, to atleast show respect to Voss
>>
>>2233198
>>2233197
Do you guys think our pheromones bullshit work on Voss?
>>
>>2233194
>welp time to talk to the Force ghost I guess

Just to be clear, the Seer made the request 7 years ago, to be carried out now. There's no ghost (yet).
>>
>>2233173
You accept the mystic's request with the appropriate level of polite respect, and they are in the process of excusing themselves when you stop the one you spoke with.

"Wait," you say after him. "When should I arrive?"

The mystic stops and turns to you. "You will arrive at the appropriate time," he says. Something about his surety leaves you feeling unhappy - perhaps because he has made it impossible to be fashionably late.

"Should I get a car, my Lord?" Marama says from behind you. "We could be in the government district within the hour."

You don't want Marama driving you - her disfigurement draws attention away from your own, more tasteful set of scars. It's also just unpleasant for you to look at. You should get one of the other servants to take you to the Tower.
>>
>>2233204
By the way have we ever received any kind of message from the sith lady that we gave the cursed skull? I bet it would be a good flavor sundely receiving a message in our box from her and slowly perceiving her descent into madness.
>>
>>2233209
Grab hacna again
>>
>>2233209
Yeah let's get Hacna again just because I know she won't like it
>>
>>2233209
Let's bring Olub'cree. I don't want Hacna being disrespectful to the Voss and he might have further insight into their culture. I'm not sure he'd be much of a driver though
>>
Lets take the brute with us, he atleast knows how to follow orders
>>
>that feel when nobody liked Qooro

I'm also just not brigging the old twilek because someone needs to keep the house and the guy is basicaly a head butler.
>>
>>2233209
Changing my vote to bring Qorro along with us.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d2)

1 Qorro
2 Hacna
>>
>>2233226
Olub is underworld knowledge. I say we bring the brute because we need someone to follow orders and not be disrespectful. Also the Voss might be intimidated or think we or our master were the ones to deforme Marama's face.
>>
>>2233209
"Get Hacna," you say to the Twi'lek. "She'll drive me."

Marama gives you an uneasy look. "She will not like it, my Lord."

You scoff in disbelief. "I don't care whether or not she *likes* it, go get her!"

Marama bows, then steps outside and walks along the manor grounds, disappearing from view as she makes her way to the exterior workshop. You had assumed the Weequay slept within the servants' quarters, but apparently you were mistaken.

You go back inside to get a quick bite to eat, resting easy in the knowledge that no matter how long you or Hacna take, you will apparently still arrive on time for the Voss' unspecified appointment. When you return to the courtyard driveway, an uncovered cruiser sits rumbling. Hacna is in the driver's seat, hunched forward and scowling, and Marama stands near the rear door.

"Good morning, Master!" Hacna calls out to you with her interpreter droid, her expression as unhappy as it was before she spotted you. "So good to be driving you, so good!"

Marama opens the car door for you, and you slide into the far seat, sitting diagonally from Hacna. The Weequay seems to think that as long as she maintains the thinnest facade of respect and subservience, you can't discipline her. She would be wrong on that count - she may not be wearing her slave collar at the moment, but you can shock her whenever you like.

"Should we go now?" Hacna asks pointedly. "I would hate to waste Master's time."

Hacna's snippiness is wearing thin. You could shock her, order her to be quiet, or display an uncharacteristic amount of interest in her life and try to get her to soften up.
>>
>>2233248
Shock her she needs to remember her place and not talk back to her betters.
>>
>>2233248
Just explain to her that she has to choose between being respectful and maybe even taking an interest in what we're about to do and possibly being rewarded or she can keep up the attitude and be punished. Harshly. Demonstrate by showing some sparks in our fist.
>>
>>2233250
The shock would come from the slave collar
>>
>>2233254
>she may not be wearing her slave collar at the moment, but you can shock her whenever you like.
Nope
>>
>>2233255
ah my bad missed that part well shock the disobedient slave anyway
>>
>>2233248
Let's just order her to be silent, maybe even deactivate the voice module on the droid so she can understand but can't speak. Punishment will come after we're done with this unless she changes our mind
>>
Rolled 2 (1d3)

>>2233249
>>2233250
>>2233257
>>
>>2233248
"Yes," you say to Hacna. "I think it's time to go."

She turns to the cruiser controls and lifts it further up off the ground with a flare of the repulsor lifts.

"But first," you say over the roar of the engines. "You have a choice to make."

Hacna twists back in her seat to look at you, and her eyes go slightly wider at the sight of the sparks shooting off of your clenched fist.

"Will you show me the proper respect, as a servant should?" You tighten your fist, causing lightning to leap from finger to finger in a vicious dance. "Or are both our days going to get off to an unpleasant start?"

"Eh..." she mumbles, her wide eyes transfixed on your glowing fist. "I will show the respect."

"Terrific," you say, lowering your hand and allowing Hacna to turn back around. The two of you leave the manor grounds and make your way by cruiser to the center of Voss-Ka, with U-4 having little trouble keeping pace with your vehicle. It's nearly the exact same route you took to and from the Starport, so the drive is quite boring. The city is small for a planetary capital - especially considering that it's Voss' *only* major city. The rest of the planet is dominated by untamed forests and hills, populated by the Voss' hated neighbors - the Gormak.

Despite their near-constant state of war with the only other sentient species to share their planet, the Voss seem content to simply play defense and remain holed up in Voss-Ka. The Empire and Republic both offer to aid the Voss in their war, and the Voss Elders frequently take the two factions up on their offer.
>>
>>2233277
But they never push for more aggressive moves than simply driving the enchroaching Gormak away from their capital, should they come too close. You're not a fan of the strategy. It is one thing to try and turn an enemy into an ally - something your old classmate Tuija vehemently disagreed with - but to outright ignore an enemy while making no overtures of peace? It doesn't make sense.

"I want to work on my cruisers," Hacna grumbles after a good amount of otherwise silent driving. Despite how much she *works* on the things, her driving isn't nearly as good as her starship piloting. Her overly cautious style of driving makes the trip take far longer than it should.

"Yes, well... you're free to do that when *I* don't need your services," you say. Rounded buildings of smooth gray stone fly by you, topped by orange-tinted metal domes that look right at home among the autumn trees growing on every stray patch of grass. "And how can you complain when you get to experience a place like Voss?" You lean back in your seat and idly gesture out at the passing city. "I bet you and Qorro are the first Weequay to ever set foot here."

And you doubt Qorro possesses the brains to appreciate his good fortune. Voss is almost completely closed to outsiders, save the diplomatic missions the Elders allowed in and what few merchants are given permits to do business within the alien quarter.

"I don't like it," she says. "Too many trees. Everywhere, trees!"

Roll me a 1d6 to impress her with that hard-earned knowledge of alien cultures.
>>
Rolled 5 (1d6)

>>2233278
>>
Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>2233278
>>
Rolled 6 (1d6)

>>2233278
>>
>>2233285
Nice!
>>
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>>2233278
"I don't like trees. They're tall and green and irritating and they grow everywhere."
>>
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>>2233278
"I suppose you'd prefer somewhere a little more barren?" you ask her.

She nods, still focused on the road ahead of her. "Sriluur is very white. Very clean."

From what you know of the Weequay homeworld, it's a fair description - but it fails to paint a complete picture. Sriluur's most habitable regions can be generously described as 'scrub-lands'. The rest is flat desert, mineral-rich mountain regions, and volcanic calderas. There are oceans, but they're too acidic to hold much in the way of life. The planet is a marginally more livable version of Korriban.

As you consider the back of Hacna's leather skull and what environmental pressures had led to them evolving such a thick hide, you notice the triple braids of hair growing out of the back of her head. Two are long enough to hang past her shoulders, while the third is barely more than a nub.

"You haven't been to Sriluur in a little over two years," you muse aloud. She looks back at you in surprise, and you have to point her attention back to the road before she careens into a passing Voss. A diplomatic incident isn't something you need on your plate.

"How did you know?" she asked.

"Your braids," you respond. "One for each year you've been gone."

She nods, and continues driving. What you also know, but didn't mention, is that Weequay cut their braids upon returning to Sriluur to pay homage at their holy shrines. You doubt Hacna will ever have the opportunity to cut her braids. There's nothing of archaeological value on the Weequay homeworld, so your Master has no reason to venture there. Nor do you ever intend to step foot on the backwards world.

It's difficult to tell if your display of interest got through to Hacna. You sense that her irritation has eased, but that could have been from the simple passage of time - and your Zeltronian empathy is not so fine-tuned as to be able to pick out changes more subtle than that. Once the two of you reach the government district, locating the Tower of Prophecy becomes easy.

The structure is built in the same uniform style as seen across Voss-Ka, but to a far grander scale. A large staircase runs up from a plaza to a large doorway, flanked by abstract stone sculptures of baffling geometry. It's hard to believe that someone could chisel such flowing shapes from stone. There are two cruisers at the base of the stairs, with a group of people clustered nearby. As your own vehicle draws closer to the line, you see that they are a mix of Imperial diplomats and Voss mystics. The former are dressed in the smart black-and-white uniforms seen across the Empire, while the latter wear their usual orange robes.
>>
>>2233338
There are two exceptions, though. A pair of Voss, standing off to the side, who wear light plated armor and wield blaster rifles in their hands. You recognize them as Voss 'Commandos', the military arm of the Voss governmental body. You haven't had a chance to see them fight, but from what you have heard they are more than a match for any well-trained Imperial trooper. The pair at the foot of the stairs must be escorting the mystics.

You step from the cruiser, and motion for Hacna to stay put. The gathered group of diplomats notices your approach, and turns to face you. One in particular catches your attention - an older man, with dark brown hair and a goatee sprinkled with bits of gray. He wears a dark chestplate and heavy gauntlets, all wrapped in blood-red cloth that only leaves portions of his armor showing.

You recognize him as Sith well before you notice the lightsaber hanging at his waist. The open carrying of weapons is forbidden in Voss-Ka, but the Elders were surprisingly quick to understand the arguments made by both Sith and Jedi - that lightsabers were not just a weapon, but a part of yourself.

The Sith immediately picks up on your identity as well, either by your manner of dress or the way you carry yourself - or, again, it could be the lightsaber. He eyes you suspiciously, a suspicion that increases when you stop before the assembled group. You expect the mystics to say something, but no one says a word - they are waiting for you to speak. You don't recognize any of these Voss, nor the Imperial officials who were speaking with them before you showed up.

"I was asked to come here," you say to both the Sith man and the Voss mystics. "By Seer Oril."

"Who are you?" the Sith says. He's keeping his words and tone careful until he gets a better grasp of the situation - as are you.

"Leera Varrus." You give him a polite bow, operating under the assumption that he's old enough to be placed well above you, at least in informal social status if not rank. "I am apprenticed to Lord Veredious."

He glowers at you. "You aren't a part of this delegation."

The mystics haven't said a word yet. You could explain the situation to them, and assume they know what's going on. You could also come up with some justification to the Sith that would allow you to accompany his team.
>>
>>2233339
Seer Oril requested my presence at the tower of prophecy on this exact day. Far be it from me to stand in the way of the prophecies of our kind hosts. Very little was explained to me but I will respect the late seer's request. I hope that won't be an issue.
>>
>>2233339
As a sith diplomat with an invitation from the Voss I am well within my rights to visit the tower of prophecy.
>>
>>2233339
Well, considering we've arrived at the right time, be just as well to walk in.

Apologize to our Sith friend, and then immediately go in before him.
>>
>>2233347
>>2233353
These
>>
>>2233347
>>2233353
Mix this two. Besides he's right i'm not a part of the delegation because i was invited by the Voss. If someone has the right to deny my entry that would be the seers here, and they haven't said a word against me.
>>
>>2233304
From my point of view the Shrubbery are evil.
>>
>>2233403
>>2233304
I killed then i killed all of then, the pines the birch, EVEN the saplings!
>>
>>2233420
I have bought peace, freedom, justice, and security to my new orchard!
>>
>>2233339
"Excuse me, Lord..." you trail off, waiting for the Sith to speak.

"Lord Maghur," he sneers.

You gesture to the Voss mystics. "I believe that's for them to decide." You then turn to the four robed Voss, whose glowing orange eyes look you over curiously.

"How was the message delivered?" a woman among them says. Her skin is a bright blue with only stripes of red, which seems to be the more common among Voss women. Males are more often red-dominant, but the colors are far from gender-specific.

"A group of mystics came to my home this morning," you say to her. "They said that years ago, Seer Oril requested my presence at the Tower of Prophecy on this day."

It sounds absurd, and you can hear Lord Maghur uttering his disbelief behind you. But the mystic does not show any outward signs of doubt, instead turning around to confer with her fellows. They gather in a close huddle and begin speaking in low voices with their native tongue.

"With all due respect," said Lord Maghur. "You can't be considering this!"

The mystics paid him no mind, and he gave you a disapproving shake of the head. His reluctance to allow you to accompany them isn't the least bit surprising. Sith are notoriously territorial people, and another Sith showing up unannounced to encroach on their duties is certain to set off alarm bells. For you to show up with this tale about seers and prophecies would raise any Sith's suspicions.

"The words were '*at* the tower'?" The Voss woman says. You turn back to find that they've broken their huddle and are again facing you.

"Yes," you say. "At the Tower of Prophecy, today."

She hums thoughtfully. "But not *in* the tower."

You give her a slight frown. "No, those weren't the *exact* words, but--"

The mystics glances back to her companions, and she receives slight nods of the head from them before she turns back to you.

"Thank you," she says. "You may leave now."

The Voss mystics begin ascending the stairs, followed by a smirking Lord Maghur and his own delegation of Imperial diplomats. You stare at the Voss woman's turned back, bewildered by the bizarre conclusion they'd come to. Was this the Voss idea of a practical joke? Suckering busy people into taking time out of their day to make a trip across the city?

Do you attempt to convince either Lord Maghur or the Voss to let you accompany them? If so, roll 1d6 with your argument.

You could also wait until the delegation goes inside, then head into the building yourself - you have the proper diplomatic credentials. If this prophecy holds water, perhaps your ultimate goal has nothing to do with the group you ran into.

Or just leave. They've wasted enough of your time.
>>
>>2233444
You were the chosen one!!! You were suppose to defeat the lumberjacks not join then!!

But jokes aside, in the Old Republic MMO there is a jedi group that called themselfs the green jedi.
>>
>>2233455
Respect the prophecy. Find a nice place and pass the time meditating on the swift and terrible end that is likely for these insufferable people.

If nothing happens by the end of the day, just go home.
>>
Rolled 4 (1d6)

>>2233455
"The Mystics only recounted to me what the prophecy wanted, not the prophecy itself. Perhaps a look of the actual wording will give more concrete answers."
>>
>>2233455
Nah we don't care about Voss business with Maghur, although that is a name we should consider to look over after it.

Also sith are supposed to forge their on path i say we wait for the delegation to move on and we enter by ourselfs
>>
>>2233479
Anon we are sith we don't follow the words of a Voss that tells about our path. We create our on path. Besides i have a felling that whatever happens will happen or had already happend we did meet this lord Maghur.
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>>2233455
Wait a bit and leave, enough of prophecies
>>
File deleted.
>>2233455
Furious and feeling more than a little humiliated, you storm back to your cruiser and throw open the passenger door.

"We are done?" Hacna wonders. "No waiting?"

"No waiting," you snap at her, though your anger is directed firmly at the Voss ascending the stairs to your right. "Get us out of here."

"Ooohhh," groans Hacna. "Thank Quay!" She seems very pleased with the fact that she won't have to spend the day waiting outside the tower for you. As soon as you close the car door and settle into the rear row of seats, Hacna slams the accelerator stick forward and roars out past the two cruisers she had been parked behind. A split-second later, just as you pass the pair of cars, you hit something.

You're not sure what - the air in front of your car ripples, and the ripple turns into an explosion of electricity that passes under your cruiser, making you buck in your seat violently. Hacna screeches incoherently and swerves to a stop - U-4 isn't even attempting to translate for her.

Spinning about in your seat, you try to get a look at what you just hit. The static-filled ripple of air is still there on the ground, but as it solidifies and become more coherent, it separates into three distinct shapes. One of the shapes rises up from the ground, and you spot a head within the confusing tangle of shimmering light and electric current.

At first you think the being is wearing some sort of ceremonial mask. Its face is hard and green, almost like ancient wood. Jagged frills run all along its skull, passing over a light-blue skull distinct in color from the rest. There's no nose, lips, nor ears - only a thin slit of a mouth, and two orange eyes that dart over to you.

Two more heads appear alongside it, and then the bodies of the three creatures takes shape. They are humanoid, wearing heavy armor that leaves only their clawed hands exposed. The nearest one stands to face you, and as the last shimmer of air takes solid shape, you see a blaster rifle pointed your way.

"Gormak!" comes a cry from the tower staircase.

The three creatures are near, in a tight cluster by the two unmanned cruisers. The Voss and Imperials are far away, in a group at the top of the stairs. You are kneeling in the backseat of your cruiser, facing the creatures. Hacna is unarmed in the driver's seat.

What's your move here? Roll me 1d6. Best of first three rolls, most popular result.
>>
Rolled 2 (1d6)

>>2233576
>Use the force to rip the blaster away from him and give it Hacna. Also stay low and get out of the car in the direction opposite of the Gormak. Advise Hacna to do the same.
>>
>>2233604
I would then advise we have Hacna provide covering fire while we charge with our lightsaber and force powers.
>>
Rolled 6 (1d6)

>>2233604
This.
Sorry, fell asleep for a bit there
>>
>>2233657
righteous
>>
Rolled 1 (1d6)

>>2233604
We should do this but first hit them with a blast of force lightning to buy more time .
>>
Rolled 1, 1, 4 = 6 (3d6)

>>2233576
You use the Force to pull the rifle from the nearest Gormak's hands, and snatch it from the air as you leap out of the cruiser.
"Move!" you shout to Hacna, motioning for her to duck behind the front bumper of the car. You shove the blaster into her hands, which she takes from you with some reluctance. The three Gormak have separated from each other now. The middle one holds a heavy repeating cannon by his waist, and is shredding the top of the tower staircase with blaster fire - but it doesn't seem to be hitting anything. It hits thin air, then flies off into space just before hitting the group. Lord Maghur stands at the center of the group, maintaining a protective Force barrier with great difficulty.
The furthest Gormak is charging towards the group with a heavy serrated blade in one hand a blaster pistol in the other, rushing up the stairs beneath the cover of his friend's automatic fire. The remaining Gormak, the one whose rifle you took, is running straight at you. He may be doing so bare-handed, but you can tell by the sharp claws held out to his side that he is far from unarmed. You draw your lightsaber and rush out to meet him before he can finish closing the distance with you and Hacna.
>>
>>2233677
The Gormak charging you takes a swipe at you, his claws coming so close you can almost feel them. You dodge his attack and swing up with your lightsaber, severing his right arm and drawing a horrid screech from the reptile-like beast. On the staircase, Lord Maghur continues to keep the diplomats and mystics contained within the protective shield he has projected around them - but the strain will eventually break him.

The two Voss commandos rush down the edges of the wide staircase, skirting the automatic blaster fire and meeting the third Gormak with their own vibroswords. The Gormak firing on the group cannot re-direct his attack to the commandos without then freeing Lord Maghur, but the sword-armed Gormak is more than a match for the two smaller Voss commandos.

The enemy engaged with you is disarmed (with one arm remaining). The Gormak near you is keeping Lord Maghur pinned down. The far Gormak on the stairs is fighting the two Voss commandos, and will overwhelm them given enough time. Hacna can be directed, but will engage on her own if left to her own devices.

Roll me 1d6 with your move of choice.
>>
>>2233693

Sorry, roll me 2d6.
>>
Rolled 6, 5 = 11 (2d6)

>>2233693
I'm comin for dat ass.
>>
Rolled 1, 5 = 6 (2d6)

>>2233693
Have Hacna blast our one armed bandit.

Attack the Gormak that's troubling Lord Maghur, might earn us some good graces with the Voss at least, and we can always lord it over him that we saved him.
>>
>>2233693
>>2233708
I didn't expect that roll to work, shit. Uh. Saber toss at the lizard with the heavy blaster then engage in hand to hand combat with the one-armed lizard in front of us? I mean he only has one arm, we just need to grab it, then grab his throat with our other hand and we can shock him or Force Choke at point blank, right?
>>
Rolled 2, 6 = 8 (2d6)

>>2233693
Finish off the disarmed one by decapitation. Have Hacna fire upon the shooting enemy with the blaster, giving Maghurs shield a break. Then use force lightning on the blaster wielding enemy while we close the distance and then strike him down with our saber, unless Hacna actually manages to kill him. If she does then we'll run to help the commandos in melee combat
>>2233708
Dat fuckin roll
>>
Rolled 3 (1d3)

>>2233721
>>2233726
>>2233728
>>
Rolled 5, 4 = 9 (2d6)

>>2233693
Before the roaring Gormak can regain some semblance of fighting composure, you finish him off with a swing of your lightsaber that severs his head from his neck. His legs keep moving for a few moments, staggering him back towards the rear of the cruiser.

"Shoot!" you shout at Hacna, pointing at the blaster-armed Gormak in the street ahead. She opens fire on him, managing to catch him more than a few times on his armor-plated body, and even once on the side of his skull. The blaster-riddled beast remains standing, but is clearly feeling the weight of the attack as he stops firing on Maghur and turns his blaster to you and Hacna.
>>
>>2233769
The Gormak on the street opens fire on you and Hacna, sweeping wide with his huge repeating rifle held at his waist. The blaster fire shreds your cruiser to pieces, and forces Hacna to cower behind the vehicle. You block a dozen near-fatal shots, but it's too forceful an assault to try and deflect back at your attacker - all you can do is use your lightsaber to deflect them off harmlessly.

You're ready to Force-lightning your attacker while Hacna hopefully keeps him from aiming. Roll me 2d6, best of 3.
>>
Rolled 1, 1 = 2 (2d6)

>>2233790
pls
>>
Rolled 6, 2 = 8 (2d6)

>>2233794
pls no
>>
Rolled 2, 4 = 6 (2d6)

>>2233790
>>2233794
Rip
>>
Rolled 2, 1 = 3 (2d6)

>>2233790
Fuck, probably should've tried to close to melee range while he was still firing upwards. Hindsight is 20/20.
>>2233794
what the fuck man
>>
brb, committing sudoku for my shameful rolls
6,4 is pretty good though
>>
>>2233804
You could have prevented this >>2233721

Nah, we'll be fine.
>>
>>2233808
I still don't know if he looks at the sum of the rolls or if he takes the best of from each slot. Cause if he takes the sum our best was 8 and his roll was 9
>>
>>2233823
I assume it's the latter, also I think his 5,4 roll was for the shots that shredded our speeder and the shots that we deflected
>>
>>2233790
The moment the rifle-wielding Gormak stops firing, you take one hand from your saber and send a blast of Force lightning surging forth at the Gormak. It hits his chest, spreading outward from head to toe in a brilliant display of blue and violet light. Hacna screams and fires a blaster volley at him, but doesn't hit once - she might know how to hold a blaster, but she's still no soldier. You spare a single glance towards the clang of metal coming from the tower staircase, and see that the second Gormak is joined in battle with a single commando. The other Voss trooper lies on the ground beside the tall staircase, unmoving.
>>
Rolled 4, 2 = 6 (2d6)

>>2233831
woops
>>
>>2233831
Utterly overcome with fury, your opponent unleashes another volley of blaster fire that you manage to deflect safely away with your lightsaber. The shouting Weequay besides you remain unscathed as well, though just barely - without the benefit of cover, she would be a sitting duck. The melee on the stairs continues, and Lord Maghur finally allows his shield to drop before rushing to the aid of the Voss commando on the stairs below him.

The machine-gun toting Gormak is focused on you - it's probably a good idea to keep it that way. Maghur can handle the other Gormak.

Roll me 2d6 with your moves (or no roll, if you see there's one already made). First roll is final roll - this is getting too easy.
>>
>>2233847
How far away is the blaster wielder?
>>
>>2233858
Near enough to close the distance with and execute a single distinct move within 1 turn
>>
Rolled 3, 1 = 4 (2d6)

>>2233847
Force scream to disorientate him and cut him down.
>>
Rolled 5, 2 = 7 (2d6)

>>2233847
Force jump and slash downwards with all our might
Only one roll is really hard, I'd suggest best of two but you're the boss
>>
>>2233884
This. Hacna might as well just hide for now.
>>
>>2233880
Argh we're fucked sorry guys.
>>
>>2233847
Man, Maghur is a slow motherfucker isn't he? Lazy bastard.
>>
We need to get armor like this dude has, he's tanking blaster shots to the head and full powered force lightning like it's nothing
>>
>>2233941
Full powered from some rando apprentice. We're not -that- strong.
>>
>>2233847
Hacna keeps firing at the Gormak, barely winging the heavily-armored creature, but it's enough to keep him off-balance. Gathering the Force within yourself, you release it in a tremendous burst of energy that hurls you towards your enemy with lightsaber held high. You pray that Hacna has enough wits about her to stop shooting when you enter her line of fire.

The Gormak sees you flying towards him, but there isn't much he can do. Your strike may be a well-telegraphed one, but he can't block a lightsaber with his rifle - nor can he hope to move out of the way with his lumbering bulk.

You cleave right through him a split-second before your feet touch the ground, your lightsaber entering beside his neck and exiting far down near his waist on the opposite side. His knees hit the ground, and another strike severs his head from his neck. Probably unnecessary, but you don't know enough about Gormak physiology to not play it safe.

With that enemy down, you turn to the stairway just in time to catch sight of Lord Maghur driving his lightsaber through the chest of the remaining Gormak, then shoving him off to the ground below. The second Voss commando is still alive, and you don't see any bodies among the terrified diplomats and mystics clustered tightly by the doors.

You switch off your lightsaber, and walk to the base of the stairs where the tower doors are being flung open by the group now free to seek safety outside of Maghur's protective bubble. You doubt they'll need it, though - there's nothing left to do but clean up the four bodies littered about the temple plaza.

Maghur sheathes his lightsaber, and begins descending the stairs towards you. His eyes flicker briefly to the two bodies of the two Gormak you felled.

"Fighting is easy when that's all that is asked of you," he says.

You really want to retort with something witty - or maybe it'd be best to calm things down.
>>
>>2233948
>"Explains why you had so much trouble just holding up a barrier."
>>
>>2233948
"I was asked to fulfill a prophecy, what have you done today?"
>>
>>2233948
Protecting the mystics is easy when I save your ass by risking my own too. I'll admit that it's an impressive technique though.
>>
>>2233959
I'm wondering if we were set up to be killed by some weird Voss-Gormak alliance or if we were meant to be there to protect the Voss mystics.
>>2233948
Make some joke about how even a dead seer knew 7 years ago that he would need help dealing with this attack.
>>
>>2233948
You give him a sharp glare. "And I suppose it's harder when it's *never* asked of you."

"Cute," he says, walking past you to crouch down beside the gun-toting Gormak's body. His attention quickly turns to a small box on the creature's belt, which he presses, rendering the corpse invisible. A few seconds later he presses the button again, and the air shimmers before revealing the Gormak just as it was. You had assumed the Gormak to be dumb beasts, but apparently they are more technologically advanced than you believed. That, or they have outside help.

Maghur rises to his feet and turns to face you. "How convenient of you to arrive just as a Gormak shadow team does." He gestures at your ruined cruiser, where Hacna still cowers with the rifle you forced into her hands. You can hear the rattle of metal as her gun shakes against the hood of the vehicle.

"It's not convenience." A subtle smirk spreads across your face. "It's prophecy."

"Prophecy?" He makes a disgusted sound, as if he's about to spit.

"Who am I to question the wisdom of the mystics?" you say. "Apparently, your dereliction of duty was so dire that it echoed across time and space."

His dismissive glower turns furious, and for a moment you're sure that you've overstepped. But he takes a step back, easing his hand from his lightsaber - you had not noticed the movement before he ended it.

"Your help was much appreciated, Varrus." He leans in close, his unnaturally-yellow eyes searching yours like two spotlights. "If it was fate that we meet, I have to wonder what it has in store for us in the future."

You don't respond, and Maghur slowly eases back before turning and walking back up the staircase to the tower. You couldn't resist some good-natured prodding at the Sith, but you seem to have wounded some prideful sensibility of his.

"Hacna!" you shout as you walk over. She snaps to attention, her eyes still wide with fright. "Call the household. Tell them to bring another cruiser to the Tower of Prophecy."

She nods quickly, then turns to her wrist communicator to make a call. You take the opportunity to give your ruined vehicle a good look-over. It's beyond battered and bruised - it's a wreck. You're tempted to give the passenger door a swift kick to judge the damage, but you worry that might snap it clean off the hinges.

What do you want to do now? It's doubtful the mystics inside the tower are going to be up for idle chatter - and you're fairly certain you've completed your role in their 'prophecy', anyway. You could decide on some other aspect of the city or your home you want to explore, and narrow down your choices from there. You're not sure you want to let Hacna drive you, though. You've experienced firsthand her piloting skills when she's under pressure.
>>
>>2234046
Let's go sell our jewelry in the marketplace and see what we can find.
Tell Hacna she did well in that fight but she is ruled by her fear and needs to control it in the future
>>
>>2234052
Sounds good. I guess we'd have to go get it from our quarters first unless we just happened to bring it. Of course there's fear that keeps you alive which is good but fear that makes her a terrible shot and terrible pilot is pointless.
>>
>>2234046
Lets just go see the center of the city and see if anything catches an eye, while waiting for our ride
>>
>>2234052
Supporting.
>>
>>2234046
Get one of those invisible divises to Hacna Or maybe we can grab some ourselfs this could be usefull and also require investigation.

>inb4 this was one of our master's power play and we just screwed up his plans.
>>
>>2234111
Oh yeah we should steal one if we can get away with it. I don't think giving one to Hacna is a good idea though, she might just use it to escape.
>>
>>2234046
You manage to swipe one of the Gormak's cloaking devices before more Voss commandos arrive in a flurry of cruisers to secure the scene of the attack. You try to explain what happened, but they don't seem very interested in talking with you. One of your household servants arrived with a new cruiser, and you and Hacna return with him to the manor. The Weequay seems to have calmed down since the attack, but you can't help but notice her dazed, robotic gait as she lumbers from the front of your home to her workshop.

The next day, you once again set out for central Voss-Ka. This time, though, you're staying far away from the Voss mystics and their incomprehensible plans that defy causality. Your goal lies in the alien district, where you hope to sell the set of ancient Sith jewelry in your bag. It's contraband, even for a Sith like you, and it has been hard to find a way to sell it given how busy you are. Here you hope to locate a merchant with an eye for an antiques.

The alien district's market isn't much to look at. There is no corporate presence on Voss-Ka - no Czerka or Aratech. Just a handful of merchants set up under green tents along a stone-hewn roadway that cuts through one of the city's low valleys. You have your servant park your cruiser at the start of the line, then work your way through the open-air market until you find what you're looking for. You stop at the tent of a Duros merchant. Like all of his species, he is hairless with a large cranium and featureless faces, save the two orange eyes that seem to never blink. Duros are far more common in Republic space, but it isn't unusual to find them in Hutt space, either - usually as hired guns.
>>
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>>2234193
"I help you... my Lord?" His deep voice sounds much like that of a particularly convincing protocol droid.

"I hope so." You hold your pack out and open it up for him to peek inside at the set of gold-colored jewelry. You let him take the pack from you, and he casts a weary glance in either direction before examining the goods more carefully.

"Mythra..." he murmurs. "Stones are rough cuts." When he looks back up, he proceeds to give you his offer - and you balk.

"Rough cuts?" you exclaim. "That's because it's thousands of years old!" Carefully lowering your voice to that of a hushed whisper, you lean in closer. "This is worth ten times that to the right collector. And I'm not *asking* for ten times that."

He shakes his head. "I do not know collectors. I can only melt down the Mythra and sell that. Stones, can't sell."

Do you want to go ahead and sell the jewelry set? It would net you a sizable amount of credits - enough for, say, a round-trip across the galaxy on a passenger vessel, or a few months worth of rent on a mid-rate world. Finding the right buyer could net you quite a bit more. You're not sure you want to sell antiques for scrap value.

Keep in mind that credits aren't important to you - *untraceable* credits are what's important. Your Master furnishes you with all the money you need to accomplish the tasks he assigns you, but you can't spend anything without him later finding out about it. If you were to sell the jewelry now, you would have those credits in hand for future use that much sooner.
>>
>>2234196
Let's hold off for now.
>>
>>2234196
Sell them now
>>
>>2234196
Hold off on it
>>
>>2234196
Screw that. Maybe if we had something we needed to buy urgently I'd consider it. The only issue is that our master might know the larger collectors so we have to find the right one to sell to.
>>
>>2234196
Don't sell it. Would rather sell this jewlery to a collector then a fucking shifty duros
>>
>>2234231
Fucking aliens, right?
>>
>>2234234
Yeah! Wait we are a alien too!!!
>>
>>2234196
Lets keep the jewelry for now, we may have better luck in more important planets, or meet some contacts of our master
>>
>>2234247
No, they are aliens. We're not. Humans are aliens too. We're a Zeltron.
>>
>>2234250
I bet a some non-sith imperials from the reclamation service would love to by these jewels.
>>
>>2234196
Hold off. We can do much better later on
>>
>>2234378
>inb4 never find a better deal
>inb4 eventually met back up with Sebuk
>"Ayyy you got my old jewelry for me? How thoughtful. I'll keep you."
>>
So what force abilities do we actually have? I know we have force lightning, force push, force choke, channeling the force for juyo, and force jump. Are there others?
>>
>>2234412
I'll work on a list to put in the google docs. So far no one has suggested something that wouldn't be feasible for the player (like Battle Meditation), so I haven't bothered yet.
>>
Reading the first thread, QM has made a few key mistakes:

>Character creation
It's just a bad idea. The race vote was particularly egregious. Star Wars has literally hundreds of races, the vast majority of which don't make for compelling stories. Mirulaken and Zeltron are also wildly overrepresented. The QM should have picked out his favorite races and put them forward, without a write-in, or chosen the race before the quest began.

>Shitty dice.
The dice system is completely arbitrary. Every given value on a d8 is equally likely. You can't predict the outcome or really set a difficulty. The ideal dice system has results on a bell curve. This allows the QM to properly set DCs that suit the difficulty of a task. 3d10 is my favorite, but d100s or d8s work as well. As long as there are more than 2 dice you're fine.

That said, using more than 5 dice in a pool is unwise. It tends too strongly to the average.

>Important decisions made arbitrarily by the QM.
I know it can be difficult to fill out the post length, and I understand the pressure to do so. That said, fill it by incorporating Write-in, player banter, extrapolations of the choices, or character interaction. Throwing away the medkit was a stupid decision. One that no reasonable person would make.
>>
>>2234468
This thread has been way better than the first. The amount of player freedom was great and his improvisation based on our choices made it feel like our choices really mattered. Especially with everything that happened on Tion.
>>
>>2234468
Did you literally just come here to shit on the GM? If you aren't enjoying it you're welcome to stop posting
>>
>>2234468
But you have to admit that the writing is great
>>
>>2234496
He's just giving feedback, which is important. Sure he could have been nicer about it but I don't think he would have bothered if he didn't like the quest.
>>
>>2234468
All fair critiques, the dice thing is the one I'm still working on. I like my hacked-together narrative RPG system but I hadn't given any thought about roll distribution.
>>
>>2234196
You're not in any urgent need for credits. You take your bag of ancient Sith jewelry and return home, and spend much of the remainder of the day mulling over how best to unload your ill-gotten gains. You need to sell them to someone with a taste for Sith artifacts, but selling them to an *actual* Sith risks running afoul of your own agency. You may be a Sith now, but there are a mountain of other Lords above you - and there are rules even you must follow.

The best way would be to find some bored merchant or nobleman with a lust for the exotic and dangerous. Forbidden relics, even if they're only jewelry, would fulfill both of those needs. You'll just have to keep your eyes and ears open during your travels.

The next day, you awake much in the same way as the day before yesterday - with the assumption that you're dreaming. Marama's face looms over yours, and you're certain that you're about to relive the chaotic events of 2 days prior. The certainty is only heightened by what she tells you upon waking.

"There is a Voss here to see you," she says.

You shoot up from the bed with a start and realize that you are very much awake.

"What does he want?" you ask quickly.

"He did not say."

You frown. "Well, *ask* him."

Marama gives a short bow, then leaves the room as you get dressed.

"And if he mentions prophecies," you yell after her. "Have Qorro escort him off the grounds!" Even if you would like to administer rougher treatment, that's not possible on Voss. With the diplomatic situation so delicate, the entire Imperial government would come down on you like a charging Gundark for so much as slapping a Voss citizen.

On any other world, that might be a frustrating state of affairs for you. But the Voss people are shockingly polite and inoffensive, almost to a fault. You've yet to see a law enforcement officer or signs of any sort of judicial system outside of those needed to handle Republic-Imperial disputes. From what you can tell, the type of common, anti-social crime one could find in any large city the galaxy over simply does not exist on Voss. There must be political intrigue and other non-violent offenses, but those could be intercepted by the Voss mystics and their uncannily accurate predictions.

You had internally mocked the idea of precognition in prior weeks, but your experience outside the Tower of Prophecy had made you something of a weak believer.

When Marama returns to your room, her expression is intense. With the grisly smile permanently affixed to her face, it's always hard to get a precise read on what emotion she's trying to convey - and you find her to be a strangely difficult read for your Zeltronian abilities.

"Well?" you say as you tuck your pants into your boots. "What does he want?"

"He refused to say, my Lord. But he says he will not leave until he speaks with you."
>>
>>2234565
With a tired shake of the head you walk past her from the room and make your way to the front door. Waiting out front is a male Voss, with blue skin of varying shades interrupted by wavy stripes of orange that run over his cheeks and the top of his head. When you first came to Voss, it had been nearly impossible for you to tell the aliens apart based on anything but blatant differences in skin color. Now, if you're close enough to get a good look at them, you pick up on the subtle differences in skin markings that set them apart.

"Good morning," the man says. He's not wearing the orange robe of the Voss mystics, which you're glad not to see. Instead, he wears a tunic of black and gray, the same sort you've seen on countless Voss across the capital city. For such a colorful people, they dress very conservatively. It makes a certain amount of sense - a rainbow people wearing rainbow garb would look absurd.

"What is it?" you ask, keeping your displeasure from showing too strongly.

"I am Minn-Jarol," he continues. "My father is Tok-Jarol."

You stand in the doorway, unblinking, waiting for him to say more - but he doesn't.

"Should I know that name?" you ask him.

"You saved his life two days ago," Minn-Jarol says. "Thank you."

Tok-Jarol must have been one of the mystics. You're a bit confused as to why this man before you would assume you know their names, but then you remember your diplomatic cover. He likely assumes you to be someone who would at least know the identities of those Voss who frequent the Tower of Prophecy.

"I see." You give the Voss a polite nod. "Well, you're welcome."

Minn raises his hands out to you, and it is only then that you notice the glass bottle in his hands. It is pitch black, and nearly invisible against his similarly dark clothing.

"What is this?" you say, taking it from him and rolling it in the palms of your hands.

"Wine," he replies. "Fermented from the Tu-neh fruit native to our lands. Aged for 14 years."

Something about Voss wine strikes a chord deep in your memory. Roll me 1d6 to try and recall the tidbit of knowledge. This is challenging, but your mind holds a wealth of alien knowledge.

Also feel free to ask him anything that might interest you. Or maybe you just want to speed him off of your doorstep.
>>
Rolled 6 (1d6)

>>2234570
REMEMBER, Ask why he would't have just left it?
>>
>>2234570
Ask him what one thing we should absolutely see on Voss before we leave in a few days
>>
>>2234573
Nice roll anon
>>
>>2234570
The mention of the age impresses you enough to have you raising your eyebrows curiously. You can't stand the bitterness of the thorn-covered Tu-neh fruit, but it could be that the rough taste makes for a better alcohol than it does food.

"Thank you," you say again. "That's quite a vintage."

"Then, you accept?" he asks.

You hesitate. The longer you stare at the bottle, the greater your certainty grows that there's something about Voss wine which you should really be able to remember.

And that's when it hits you - the Voss marriage rites. Their romantic couplings, like everything else in their culture, are highly regimented and ritualistic. It begins as any other courtship on countless other planets would, with little gifts and demonstrations of interest. On Voss, it's typically a bottle of Tu-neh wine delivered to one's door.

But once established, the courtship is far from casual. It is an unbreakable path to permanent union that can only be ended by mutual agreement of the involved parties, or through the arbitration of one of the Voss elders. To accept this bottle would put you in a dangerous position, politically and otherwise.

You should carefully give him back the bottle and end this conversation as diplomatically as possible.
>>
>>2234609
UH.... FUCK, HIS TRYING TO COURT US. Fucking gayyyy

>Tell him that we cannot take this bottle sadly, our duties require us to constantly move and be on call at all hours.
>>
>>2234609
Haha what the fuck. Tell him that we will accept his thanks but nothing else as we were only doing our duty as a sith visitor to their planet and we have no interest in marriage or any sort of romantic relationship
>>
>>2234609
We should phrase it like this:

"We appreciate the offer, but we deserve no reward for the action."

Now if it was a cute Voss girl, we'd be open to it.
>>
>>2234626
>Now if it was a cute Voss girl, we'd be open to it.

How can you tell if they are cute or not? They're like bug things.
>>
>>2234674

Gotta love those glowing insectoid eyes, man.

Sexy.
>>
>>2234609
That's all for ~12 hours
>>
>>2234755
See you next time
>>
We should show Olub'cree the cloaking device to see if he's familiar with where it might have come from. It seems like the sort of thing he would come into contact with in his service to a Hutt.
>>
Guys...i just had a idea. What if we corrected Minn-Jarol and say that we wrren't the ones to save his father, but who really did it is Maghur and such offer should be given to him.

Because the way Maghur was he would most likely accept the wine and get himself entangled on this Voss.
>>
>>2234812
Ha HA! I concur. That's great.
>>
>>2234812
That's an amazing idea. I'm all for it.
>>
>>2234812
Backing this
>>
>>2234812
Yeah fuck that douchebag let's do this
>>
>>2234812
>>2234609
Backing this
>>
>>2234609
"I cannot accept this gift." You hold the black bottle of Tu-neh wine out to Minn, who reluctantly takes it back. "My position forbids me from accepting such things."

"Your position?" he says.

"As a Sith Apprentice. There are many things I can't have - such as friends or loved ones." For a few moments he just stands there silent, and the mortifying situation you've been put in becomes almost too much to bear. You never knew that awkwardness could be felt to a degree that it became physically painful. "You understand, right?" you say to him.

He's quiet for another moment, then nods.

"I am the son of a Voss mystic. I understand."

Those eerie orange eyes remain fixed on yours for what seems like an eternity, until an idea comes to you.

"But you know who *would* appreciate a gift like this," you say. "Lord Maghur. After all, he's the one who actually protected the mystics."

"That is so?" Minn asked.

The Voss is disappointed by your implicit rejection, and it will not be Easy to turn him towards Maghur. Roll me 3d6 to test your Social aptitude. First roll is final roll.

I'm trying a modified die system based on earlier critiques, so we'll see how that goes. We're trying to beat a difficulty threshold of 11, with our Social skill and Zeltronian empathy each adding +1 to our roll.
>>
Rolled 6, 4, 5 + 1 = 16 (3d6 + 1)

>>2235464
>>
>>2235468
That should've been +2. My bad. Still works though. Get fucked Maghur.
>>
>>2235464
The dice system seems promising, the last one seemed a but unbalanced
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Rolled 1, 2, 3 + 2 = 8 (3d6 + 2)

>>2235464
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>>2235478
Dam i'm kinda impressed with this roll.
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>>2235469
>Get fucked Maghur.

Hey now, don't be mean maybe Minn likes to bite the pillow to.
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On another note it's best of three guys we need one more roll.
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>>2235488
Nope, it's just the first roll now
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>>2235488
>best of three

I'm gonna stop doing that for now, it doesn't really add anything and it makes it hard to work out probabilities when I'm messing with the dice system's numbers
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