View Full Version : IC - Star Wars: the Second Golden Age of the Sith
01-29-2008, 11:49 PM
Star Wars: the Second Golden Age of the Sith
Time slips away slowly as each of you continue to be occupied with your own immediate pursuits. You can't find yourselves truly absorbed in them in this place, however. The air around you feels alive with restlessness, impatience - every instinct you possess tells you that something momentous will occur at any time.
A worthy challenge was awaiting.
Any time now.
It begins to grate on your nerves. The feeling was so tangible; you were each convinced that the Force was practically welling up around you, preparing you for the first step of some great destiny. Yet the feeling neither blossoms, nor fades. You're left unsatisfied. Hungry. Wanting more. In the time you've spent studying here, each of you have your own varying opinions of the place, but whether or not you are conscious of it, you are all aware of one simple fact. This Academy, this fortress, this damned igloo - it pulses with an emotion that could almost be considered contempt. The air possesses an nigh-imperceptible chill at all times, regardless of insulation or heating, preventing you from ever feeling a moment of uninterrupted 'comfort'; the cool, metallic clank of the floor with every footstep feels like the place itself struggles to warn all others of your coming, in effort to foil any plans you had laid; and of course, the cameraderie of your fellow students ranges in temperature from luke-warm at best to nearly absolute zero.
Whatever your thoughts may be, you find yourself drawn out from them by a sudden calm. No, not a calm. A vacuum. The sounds, the feelings, that growing sense of restlessness; they all vanish in one instant, bringing your senses back to the outside world. Then, a sound begins to resonate throughout the base. The Academy p.a. system has been activated, and an announcement follows. The voice sounds as empty as your environment.
"All acolytes are to report to the Great Hall immediately. You know the penalty for tardiness."
The implied threat was almost laughable. It lacked volume, it lacked intensity, it lacked conviction. Still, the pitiful announcer was not one to be concerned with - bringing the ire of the Masters down upon yourself was a real motivator. It would be best to proceed to the Great Hall with all haste.
Strange. Without you realizing it, your surroundings have returned to normal. The unnatural emptiness has passed, and the frosty spirit of this place has been restored.
Gaimon is lost in old memories as he lies upon the chill operating table, the 2-1B series medical droid's surgical appendages manipulating with subdued humming the adjustors in the cybernetic subvocalizer at his throat.
"All acolytes are to report to the Great Hall immediately. You know the penalty for tardiness."
The droid pauses, then continues, its bland torso swiveling to bring its second appendage into play. After a few taps and sparks, it finished. Gaimon afixed his mask to the tiny connectors on his face, swung his legs off the table and stood.
It seems today will not be a quiet day after all... he thinks as he makes minute changes to the mechanism at his throat and lower face.
Purposeful but unhurried, he leaves the medical section, his lightsaber tap-tapping lightly against his hip. The wiry, unkempt man takes the turbolift up to the Great Hall.
Arriving sooner than most, he steps over to a rough, cold wall and places his shoulder against it, feigning relaxation. Energy is building up in his muscles, tightening them, urging action but he remains still and calm.
01-30-2008, 10:22 PM
The young mandalorian had spent the last few minutes, working diligently on the remaining peices of armour plating. What had began as a simple repair to a few plates, had escalated into a full maitenance check. Perhaps it was part of her thurough perfectionist personality...perhaps it was because it needed to be done...more likely, it was an excuse to avoid talking with Vykan Zendra, the Sith who sought her alliegence...who tried to make her feel like something other then what she was. The Outsider...The Prodigal Failure...the Mandalorian in Sith's robes.
She had just finished the final touches on the final plate, one of the two that covered her right bicep, when the announcement was made.
"All acolytes are to report to the Great Hall immediately. You know the penalty for tardiness."
With a deep breath in, Beskreiga snapped the plate back onto her arm and locked it. With a long exhale out, she picked up her carbine from the table and secured the power cell before holstering it at her side. With a final glance at the tables of the common area, she picked up her helmet and sealed it on to her head.
Then she left, heading for the Great Hall, one hand on the butt of her blaster, the other on the hilt of her sword.
01-31-2008, 03:45 AM
Due to Internet problems, the Quote of the Day service has been temporarily suspended. We apologize for any inconvenience.
Vykan Zendra ~ Ye Ol' Common Chambers
Annoyed with the interruption, the Umbaran looked upwards and listened intently to the announcement. His annoyance quickly dissolving, he collected and replaced his visors, before getting up, addressing the Mandalorian, who was now essentially ignoring him as she finalized her repairs.
"Looks like you're about to find out."
Donning his cloak, he left her to it, and strided out of the room, heading for the Great Hall.
01-31-2008, 05:19 AM
Csaba Obscura - Medical Bay
The miraluka hisses with annoyance as she hears the announcement. She drops the outsize needle and thick wad of surgical thread she has been using to make repairs to her tattered shirt. Normally she would have just disposed of the charred and sullied robes. They were a sign of defeat. But she could see the value of keeping the Umbaran reminded of his victory. It would make him overconfident and complacent. The blow to her pride was well worth such an advantage. Of course, she must not act too subdued. That would only invite his suspicion as well as the scorn of the other apprentices.
Csaba leaves the sewing equipment on the floor. There was no need to waste her time - The medical droids would clean it up. She sprints to the great hall, intending to be the first one there.
02-04-2008, 03:07 AM
You had barely passed through the hall into the foyer leading up to the surface when the announcement reached your ears. A single frigid breeze drifted past you, slicing through cloth, skin, and muscle alike. The announcement couldn't have come at a better time. You turn around and manage to head into the Hall long before any other acolyte.
As you each make your way into the Great Hall, the area is slowly beginning to fill with students. The Great Hall was an imposing chamber in any event; the room possessed a vaulted ceiling braced with massive arches of durasteel. In fact, the plating of the walls and ceiling appeared to be made of metal, as well. The rest of the academy shared a similar composition, but for some reason the design of this room seemed far more unnatural. You find yourselves somewhat surprised by the number and variety of those entering; there's got to be several dozen other sentients at this academy. You recognize a handful from your previous encounters, but many are completely fresh and unknown faces. The thought is somewhat disquieting - you hadn't previously realized how much competition there would be in this 'class'.
Little did you know at the time that this 'competition' was just starting to heat up.
The flow of others into the room begins to slow, and immediately after the entry of one final robed figure, you each feel a potent tremor in the Force. Suddenly, each door leading into the chamber slams shut; the crash pounds your ears violently as you're forced to relive it again and again in the many echoes that reverberate off of the domed ceiling. Without breaking his stride, the robed figure continues to march through the crowd towards the center of the room. Those he draws near instinctively pull away from his path. When he has arrived at the exact center of the room, he stops. Another ripple in the Force is felt, and the man then lifts 3 meters into the air and hovers there. The shrouded figure gestures widely to the gathered crowd, and addresses you all in raspy, harsh Galactic Basic.
"This is the lot of you? Dismal. Very well, I'll be forced to group you if you're to succeed at this. Consider this task a 'mission' to serve the Sith. Our sensors have detected a metallic object that crash-landed planetside. It's been moving, and we lost its signal when it entered a network of caves that honeycombs this immediate area. We cannot allow the secrecy of this facility to be comprised. You students will be teamed. Your teams will search the caves. You will find and destroy whatever this object may be. I will send a location in the academy to each of your minds. You will go there, and those who meet you will be your...allies for this mission. Gather, plan, and execute. Relevant data will be accessible from any terminal. I will not entertain your questions - we Sith survive by making the most of our circumstances. You will do the same. That is all."
When his short (and rather brusque) speech is finished, the hooded man sinks back towards the ground and begins walking towards the exits. The doors of the room simultaneously slide back up, and moments later he has vanished. There's a bit of uncomfortable stirring from the gathered mass - apparantly "team projects" aren't what they had in mind when they began their training with the Sith. On occasion, you can see a spark flash across the faces of the other students.
Strangely, only two people seem to exit the room quickly. One is a short Rodian, and the other is a familiar figure - the trooper from the messhall earlier. He seems to be in-tow behind the Rodian, and despite a glance of recognition to some of you, he seems focused on keeping up with his lead and is soon out of sight.
02-04-2008, 03:32 PM
Salina Jax (http://www.myth-weavers.com/sheets/view.php?id=35504)
In the Great Hall, Salina keeps far to the back, uncomfortable in the presence of so many strangers, and so finds herself struggling to see over the taller people who stand in front of her. On discovering the nature of the mission, she can't help twitching the corners of her mouth upward in amusement at the irony. She had just been considering a walk on the surface, hadn't she?
The dismissal can't come soon enough, however, and Salina doesn't hesitate to begin retreating toward the nearest exit. The press of bodies makes her effort somewhat difficult, however, and she just catches sight of the interesting trooper from before exiting ahead of her with an unfamiliar rodian.
Before she even reaches the exit, that raspy voice speaks again, this time in her head, speaking a single word. A location. Salina finally slips free of the crowd and out of the Great Hall, walking at an unhurried but purposeful pace toward the room the voice indicated.
Leaning against the wall near the turbolifts, Gaimon listens to the master intently, eying those nearest him. None seem to have chosen to stand too close to the pale man, but he no longer cared. It was advantageous, in fact, for others to be wary. Hesitate to attack and speed yourself towards death, he thought wryly.
A harshly-voiced word pierced his thoughts. Gaimon turned and stepped out of the Great Hall. He ignored the turbolifts and took the stairs down through the cold. He wondered, briefly, if he could remember what it felt like to be comfortably warm. Not the warmth of combat, for that quickly turned chill, but true warmth. He shrugged to himself as he descended, shouldering indifferently past other students, his eyes gazing with unconcerned hostility at those who took offense.
He walked all the way down, to the very depths of the base. Isn't there a crypt or tomb down here? he wondered. No matter. He moved into the unadorned corridor that opened into the Engineering section. Droids and filth-smeared Ugnaughts toiled among the cables and machinery, ignoring the apprentice.
Gaimon felt outwards, sensing his surroundings through the Force, moving carefully now. Much could lie hidden behind the power-routers and generators.
Use the Force (sense surroundings): [roll0]
02-05-2008, 06:25 AM
As the Umbaran entered the already crowded Great Hall, he was met with the surprised gasps and stares of the other Acolytes. As he approached the heart of the crowd it seemed to part, leaving an equidistant buffer of empty space between him and the others. While some of the younger students whimpered away, the older, more experienced, did not make much of an effort to budge, and otherwise appeared to be making it clear that they did not intend to turn their heads and acknowledge the Umbaran.
Draped in his full, crow-feathered, cloak, Zendra continued to transverse the crowd, settling on a spot near the center. His eyes did not shift from his intent and he exchanged glances with no-one.
As the hooded man arrived, he took but a respectful step backwards. Reveling in the man's Force Aura, he listened to the speech with great interest. He concluding the assignment briefing with a nod as the single word pierced his mind. The Umbaran waited for but a moment, scouring the crowd for someone or other, before proceeding to the nearest Terminal and requesting the authorized information. Satisfied, he headed to the Turbolifts, and from there to Engineering.
Probably a Republic Recon droid, he thought.
Arriving there, he came to the realization that he was not the first to arrive. There was another, human, visibly mutilated. Taking in his surroundings, he found himself uncomfortable with the loud, repetitive rhythm of the engineering machina. The cold, harsh, repetitive motion of the machines. The brutal pounding of the gears upon themselves. The Force did not flow so easily here.
Isn't the Sense Surroundings action done as part of a Perception Check?
02-05-2008, 11:49 PM
The Mandalorian almost double checked the commlink in her helmet as the voice whispered through her mind, only finally stopping the motion to rap the side of the durasteel headgear with her plated knuckles, when she remembered that the commlink needed to be repaired still.
Perhaps it was fortunate then that her destination was well suited for the maintenance required.
Unidentified Metallic Object capable of space or at least air travel... It wasn't much to go on, but already Beskreiga found herself calculating the possibilities. The first thing that came to her mind was a Freighter...but that couldn't fit into the caves most likely, and she reminded herself that every freighter was in as bad as shape as the ones she was most familiar with. It had to keep moving too...
...A probe droid perhaps? The Republic was fond of using those as she remembered, as preliminary intelligence gathering before an invasion or for scouting and surveying missions. Her uncle had made a bit of a name for himself, by being able to shoot out every one of their multiple optical sensors before the droid had time to send it's data. There was one case during the later years of the war that she could recall hearing stories about Probe Droids being acquired by the Kubaz, and modified into lethal assassin droids, that had a personality flaw that led them almost always into direct physical confrontation with the Basilisk War Droid mounts, if present...those where just irrelevant rumours now though.
Part of her hoped it was a Basilisk War Droid as their planetside landing patterns usually resembled a free fall drop or accelerated crash...and once then, they could certainly navigate most of the tunnels easily...but it was just stupid hope...Basilisks where extremely rare, even before the recent wars...they where so few and far between now, that the Basilisks now had an almost religious context around them. No one even used them in battle anymore, for fear of their loss.
Beskreiga snapped out of her internal musings, as she became aware that she had reached the Engineering bay.
The humming of machines, the flare-ups of fusion torches being fired, the sound of engines being powered up for tests, the operatic clang of durasteel against durasteel against the backdrop of the loud repetitive rhythm of the engineering machina...the young warrioress briefly allowed the indulgence of closing her eyes, and letting the sounds and feelings was over her. It was calming...centering. It flowed easily through her, bringing a small feeling of warmth through her veins.
Opening them again, she looked around at those that had assembled there. There was the blue-hued Vykan Zendra, who she already knew....a male human cyborg, and a young woman who looked just a little older then Beskreiga.
The Mandalorian disconnected the latches of her helmet, and removed it, resting it under her right arm as she waited for the rest to assemble.
The Force, as they say, flowed easily here.
02-07-2008, 02:09 AM
As you're waiting for the rest of the rabble to filter out of the Great Hall, you espy a few familiar figures heading off in the direction of the foyer; the multi-armed humanoid from the Mess Hall, along with the Zabrak and a handful of others you are unfamiliar with.
After a brief ride down the turbolift, you head off into the dark and noisy Engineering level. Your senses alert you well before you draw near - an unfriendly presence is waiting ahead. Your wounds, now artificially closed, begin to ache instinctively as soon as your body realizes what your mind was telling you. The Umbaran is in your group.
Despite the poorly illuminated halls and unceasing flow of metallic banging sounds echoing from who-knows-where, you notice one more individual approaching your little gathering. Even with the distractions, the tattered and burned robes loudly report the identity of the individual; it is the Miraluka from the Mess Hall.
You can't help but pause for a moment and wonder at the apparant coincidence of it all. Perhaps your instructors watched the surveillance holo of the earlier 'incident', and lumped you together as a test? Those of you who prescribe to a more "mystical" philosophy could easily imagine your previous meeting as being the will of the Force. Regardless of the reasons, the five of you are assembled here, and in the several seconds while you regard each other no further sounds are heard from the turbolift. It seems that this is to be 'your group'.
02-07-2008, 01:23 PM
The Umbaran smiles grimly as the Miraluka joins the group. Nevertheless, he pays her little attention; like she's not even there. He moves to address the rest of the troupe.
"Very well, we have quite some ground to cover. I recommend we get started."
OOC: Can we get more of an idea on where can we go?
02-08-2008, 02:59 AM
Csaba shakes her head for a moment. Her mind had been elsewhere for the last few minutes. She had followed where the voice had told her where to go, and either by chance of the will of the force she had ended up in ths same group as the Umbaran. This was not good at all.
She decides to hold her silence until she can clear her head.
The lean, pale man eyes the Umbaran with his dull eyes. "That would be wise."
Gaimon glances at the others assembled. Interesting mix, he thinks. From all he'd seen of them, and knew of them from overhearing other students' conversations, they each had their strengths and diversity lessened weakness.
03-07-2008, 01:17 AM
A glance down at the information you gathered reveals an interesting possibility. If this newly-discovered tunnel does connect to the rest of those honeycombing the area, it would be much easier to send forays into the largely unexplored areas that rest between the Sith Academy and the Blasted Tundra 10 miles away. Whatever it was that crashed nearby, it landed somewhere in those unknown areas.
A deafening clatter from somewhere nearby disrupts your thinking for a moment. It is the sound of several heavy objects being dropped onto the steel floor, followed by a series of angry swears from one unseen laborer who seems intent on impolitely calling another's competence (and pedigree) into question.
Strangely, after several moments pass you hear a very distant-sounding echo of the clatter coming from the north - the direction of the famous "Burial Site" of the missing Lord Tavorrik. Normally such sounds don't reverberate down here in this noisy level.
03-08-2008, 01:51 PM
The Umbaran doesn't even flinch at the reverberating sound echoing from the north. Instead, he extends an arm.
"Ignore that. We have our assignment. Concentrate on the here and the now."
Pointing forwards, he continues, "There is an array of underground tunnels ahead leading further away. For now, stay alert. Follow me."
He heads onwards towards the supposed newly discovered entrance to the natural caverns.
The lean, pale man eyes the Umbaran for a moment, raises his eyebrows and shrugs slowly, uncaringly, as if to say 'very well, then.'
After the Umbaran has begun to lead, Gaimon utters, "I try not to ignore anything around me. I will not say the... disturbance was not unsettling, but our task was clear. Lead on."
Gaimon, not needing to watch the fore, keeps his dull grey eyes open on the environment around him.
Use the Force (to see through concealment, DC 15): [roll0]
General Perception check: [roll1]
edit: ooooh, natural 20 on UtF. *flexes*
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