# Star Wars: Heroes of Kalarba



## LostSoul (Jun 10, 2002)

A new Star Wars thread.

I posted this one a while back, but I'm going to revise it so it's a better read.  Not just my own personal reminder of what went on.


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## LostSoul (Jun 10, 2002)

Background:

Arthur Denfrey, the Crown Prince of the world of Kalarba, flees the royal palace, his home, his people, and his duties in a single night of flames.  Alexi, Arthur's shadow and Prince-despot of one of Kalarba's two ruling houses, capitalizes on fears of weak leadership from the young and spoiled Crown Prince Denfrey and his pro-rebellion leanings.  Alexi seizes control of their planet in a brutal purge and sides with the Empire.  It is a task that the Witches Coven of Mount Tharen have trained him for all his life.  

The Witches Coven possess forbidden knowledge of a dark prophecy that holds all life on Kalarba in its clutches, and only they have the foresight to battle the coming storm.  Their only weapon - Alexi Ak'Heleth.  

Alexi rules the planet with an iron fist alongside the Imperial Governor, Moff Darksun.  Darksun is tasked by the Emperor to wrest real power from Alexi and turn the rogue Dark-Force user to Imperial control.  These are among his hidden schemes...

Til-Gon, an eccentric and unorthodox Jedi dispatched to explore mysteries of lost civilizations beyond the outer rim, escapes the Jedi purges by crashing his library-ship on the uncharted world of Dathomir.  After repairing his vessel with the help of the force-sensitive youth Feyd, the Jedi Master spends five years training his faithful student on an ancient base hidden in the midst of an asteroid field.  Feeling a tremor in the force, Til-Gon sends his student out into the world, charging him with the task of finding Arthur Denfrey, deposed Prince of Kalarba, and bringing him back to study the Force.

Meanwhile, Arthur Denfrey and his life-long friend Troy Chance, a scoundrel with a penchant for gaming, flee from port-to-port from the Imperial-backed forces of Alexi Ak'Heleth...


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## LostSoul (Jun 10, 2002)

*Act One: Heroes of Kalarba*

_A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. . .

A vast sea of stars serves as the backdrop for the main title.  War drums echo through the heavens as a roll-up slowly crawls into infinity._

*STAR WARS

Episode I: Heroes of Kalarba*

After giving the forces of Alexi Ak'Heleth the slip, Arthur Denfrey and Troy Chance take a well-deserved rest at the Casino Royale on Socarro VI, a favourite getaway spot of theirs.  Little do they know that Alexi has caught their trail.  As Arthur and Troy drink and gamble and whore, Alexi's fleet races through hyperspace...

The young Jedi Padawan Feyd arrives at the Casino on the orders of his master.  It is the backwater teen's first sight of the splendours of the galaxy.  He approaches the Casino entrance, unsure how to handle himself, with his master's old astromech droid, R2-FU.  At the "suggestion" of the bouncer, Feyd leaves the droid-rot ridden R2 unit behind.  The bouncer lets Feyd into the casino, where Feyd allows the Force to guide him to Arthur.

In the Casino, Feyd is led to a shifty looking man hunched over the bar.  Feyd knows this must be Arthur; he can feel the Force within him.  Unsure how to introduce himself, Feyd offers to buy a round of drinks.  Feyd gets his first strange look when he orders a fizzyglug - a kid's drink - for himself; he gets another when he tries to pay with his fortune of old Republic credits.  The bartender informs Feyd that they "aren't worth a litre of bantha swill".  Arthur, suspicious as ever, decides to "play the brother" and pays for the drinks.

"Your name is Arthur Denfrey," Feyd states.

"Uh... no it's not.  Who told you that?"  Arthur replies.

"The Force of Others tells me.  And my master, Til-Gon."

"O-kay, kid.  You sure that's fizzyglug you're drinking?"

"I'm come here to take you back to my master's hidden base, to train you in the ways of the Force."

Arthur looks the backwater kid up and down.  With his strange accent, his odd, tacky Republic clothes, and the strange device hanging from his belt, he decides that Troy is going to get a kick out of this.  "Sure, kid.  Let's hear what these 'Forceful Others' are telling you."  Arthur leads Feyd back to Troy, who is in a game of daatichi, hoping his smooth friend will be able to fleece Feyd out of everything he's got.

Troy and Arthur work over the naive Padawan.  After a couple of minutes, Troy realizes that Feyd probably doesn't have anything valuable on him.  "Get lost, kid.  Go back to your mommy."

Suddenly, Feyd feels a ripple crash through the Force.  Feyd and Arthur turn to look down at the Casino entrance.

A man dressed in a flowing black cape enters the Casino... it is Alexi!  Stormtroopers appear at all the exits.  Two of them at the nearest one (Troy always sits near the back door) menace the nearby tables with their blasters.  Feyd and Arthur have a strange sensation, like some great hand was reaching into each one of them, in a moment that last forever.  Arthur recognizes the prying of Alexi's mind; Feyd, feeling the touch and the seductive power of the Dark Side for the first time, feels a strange familiarity with Alexi.

Alexi snaps his head and makes eye contact with Feyd.  He points at them across the distance of the Casino floor, shouts out some orders, and wills his lightsabre into his hand.

"That's our cue," Troy says, knocking over the daatichi table.  A small holdout blaster appears in his hand, and he catches one of the troopers by surprise, blasting it in the face.  His blaster lets out a thin wisp of smoke; Troy hopes it has enough juice for another bolt.  Arthur pulls his blaster out of its holster and ducks behind the table.

They both look over at Feyd when he ignites his lightsabre with a hum.

The stormtrooper fires a bolt through the table and catches Arthur on the shoulder; Arthur grimaces through the pain and tries to return fire.  His aim is far off.  Feyd leaps over the table and swings at the stormtrooper.  The trooper, not expecting this, throws his hand up; to Feyd's surprise, the lightsabre jars the trooper but does not cut through his armour.

Troy pops out from behind the table and blasts the trooper.  It goes down in a heap.

"Hokey weapons are no match for a good blaster at your side, kid."  Troy looks at the smoking remains of his burnt out hold-out blaster, and picks up the trooper's rifle.  He'll have to get another hold-out made.

The three of them rush to Arthur's beaten up old freighter, Bessie.  R2-FU is waiting there for them.  Troy and Arthur gladly accept the old droid and the kid following them.

Patrolling TIE fighters swoop down and chase Bessie as it flies off planet.  Troy mans the ship's turreted blasters and does a fair job of keeping the fighters off their backs.  R2-FU, plugged into Bessie's main nav computer, begins plotting the quickest astrogation route out of system.  Bessie manages to warble a cry of disgust when she comes into contact with R2-FU's strange form of droid rot, but Arthur is too busy to notice, dodging the blaster fire of the TIEs.

Once they reach the safety of space, Arthur kicks in the hyperdrive and they leave the TIE fighters, Alexi, and the Dark Side of the Force behind them.

_[The players freaked out when Alexi first showed up... they thought it was Vader at first!  It was the first game with a new group, so they didn't know how I would run the game.

Oh yeah, this was all I had planned for the night, since I didn't know who was going to play or what type of characters they were going to have.  So the rest of it was on-the-fly.  More of that first night, to come later!]_


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## Horacio (Jun 10, 2002)

Another Star Wars Story Hour!
Cool!


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## Jodo Kast (Jun 10, 2002)

I thought I felt a strange disturbance in the Force ... another Star Wars Story Hour!  Excellent!


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## LostSoul (Jun 11, 2002)

Landing on the corporate world of Vesanto comes none too quickly for Arthur and Troy, having to constantly turn down Feyd's offer of asylum on his master Til-Gon's hidden asteroid base.  Arthur begins repairs on Bessie, mostly fried stabilizers and burnt-out power coils.  Arthur is in his element here, looking forward to the hours of work that lie ahead of him.  It calms him down, takes his thoughts away from Alexi, Kalarba, and his royal title.

Troy, however, gets bored with the whole idea of work.

"Hey kid," he says to Feyd, "ever been to a strip club?"

"I don't think so."

"Good, you'll enjoy this."

Feyd and Troy head to a local strip bar.  On the different stages, real women dance and sway with obscene holograms of varying quality.  Feyd is appalled but strangely enticed.  The bright lights of Vesanto's holo-culture are almost too much to handle.  Luckily, he can focus his attention on the beautiful women dancing naked for him.

Troy picks a seat near the back door and buys a pair of drinks.  A large rust coloured caterpillar-like alien is sitting at a booth nearby.  Playing cards are laid out before him, but he's focusing his attention on the two strippers giving him a private show.  Troy smiles and takes a drink.

"What's this?" Feyd asks Troy of the drink.

"It's good."

Feyd takes a drink.  "Strange taste, but not unpleasant."  He chugs it down.

"That's more like it."  Troy pulls out some cash and waves over a waitress, stuffing some of it in her skimpy clothes.  "Keep this kid drinking, and there'll be more for you."  The waitress smiles, and a flicker runs through her; Troy starts, realizing he's talking to a service droid overlaid with a hologram.  At least it's a nice looking hologram.

"Hang on here, kid, I'll be back."  Troy leaves Feyd staring at the dancing women and introduces himself to the alien nearby.  In a moment the he had the alien laughing, and Tory was invited into a game.  A few hours later, the alien was cursing the smooth-talking Troy and the money that just changed hands.

"Not a good idea," one of the better-looking strippers says to Troy.

"Hmm?"

"Robbing Big Quince like that.  He's connected around here, you know?"

"You're a good dancer, you know?"  Troy slips her some cash with writing on it.  "Here's where we're docked.  Come by when you're off.  Bring a friend."  Troy pauses, looks over at Feyd, and slips her more of Big Quince's cash.  "Bring two friends."  The stripper smiles and walks off, rubbing up against Troy as she does.

Troy collects Feyd from the table, now littered with empty drinks, and the two of them leave for Bessie.

"So, what do you think of strip clubs?"

"I think that master Til-Gon would say they are a way for the Force's more... uh, attractive creatures to reveal their inner beauties.  Til-Gon teaches me that those strong in the Force can express themselves in many ways."

"Glad you enjoyed it, kid."

"I think there was something in those drinks... I don't feel too good."  Feyd staggers over to the gutter and reveals to Troy just what a Jedi Padawan's diet looks like.

[I love my good old drinking rules.  Feyd's player wasn't rolling too good that night.]

Back at the ship, they find Arthur relaxing in a lounge chair with a cooler full of dantic.  "The stabilizers are still out, but I won't be able to fix them until I can buy the right parts."

"That's good," Troy answers.  He sits next to Arthur and grabs some dantic.  Feyd wanders into the ship, looking for a place to die.

"What d'ya do to him?"

"Took him to a strip club.  We're going to have some company later."

"Sounds good."  Arthur leaned back and the two friends stared off into the holographic sunset.

--- Star Wars ---

A few hours later, the sun down and the holographic ads out lighting up the sky, three young women show up.  What they're wearing doesn't make so much of a statement as what they aren't wearing.

"Glad you could make it," Troy says.

"Where's your other friend?" One of the women asks.  Troy doesn't recognize her.

"He's up in the ship," Troy answers.  "Come on, I'll show you girls around."

After a few communal drinks, everyone pairs off.  Feyd, already having pissed his wits away, strikes up a conversation with the stripper talking to him on the only subject he really cares about.

"The Force of Others is all around us, running through us.  I can feel it passing through me, around me."

"You're really spiritual."

"Spirit is what binds the galaxy together, not the simple flesh."

"I'd like to feel the force of your flesh."

Feyd goes red with embarrassment.  "Uh... I..."  His face goes from red to green in an instant.

"Are you okay?"

"As long as the Force is with me I will always be."

"O-kay... maybe you should have a drink of water."

"The Force can cleanse the body of all impurities.  I just meditate and out they go.  Bwwwp!  Just like that.  Heh heh."  Feyd begins to hum a rare Jedi mantra.

"You're really hooked on this force , aren't you."

"My master says - urk!"  Feyd's eyes flash open and he tries to hold back the last few drinks he's had.  He doesn't succeed.

The stripper jumps up, not an easy thing to do considering the size and cut of her skirt.  "You little bastard, you almost puked on me!"

Arthur pops his head into the cabin.  "We're going to head into the city.  You guys want to come?"

Feyd vomits again.

"Feyd, what the hell do you think you're doing?"

"Cleansing the body?"

"You better have this mess cleaned up when I get back."  Arthur and the stripper leave Feyd alone in the dark with his Jedi ritual.

--- Star Wars ---

"Where did you find that messed up guy back there?" Feyd's stripper says between sips of a smoking drink.  The nightclub's lights pulse against her body.  

"At the Casino Royale, on Sacarro six," Arthur says, raising his voice to sound regal above the pounding beat of the music that fills the place.

"Casino Royale?" the other girl asks.  "I heard that place is pretty high-rolling.  What were you doing there?"

Arthur leans back, filling up with confidence.  "Oh, the typical," he says, trying to act cool.  "They know us pretty well there."

"Why?  Who are you?"

"I'm actually the crown prince of Kalarba."

"And you still fly that piece of  out there?  Whatever, buddy."

Arthur feels the confidence leaving him.  He takes another drink.  "No, really.  I swear.  It's just that we're being hunted right now - lost the throne in a bloody coup."

"Really?"  The two strippers share a knowing look.

"Oh yeah," Arthur says, and proceeds to tell the two women his life story.  Not once does he pick up on the greedy look in their eyes, nor does he realize he might just be giving a little too much away about himself.  The more he talks, the more he drinks, and the larger his story gets.  When he's finished, he feels full of confidence and courage, both real and liquid.

"You guys want to head back to the ship now?"  Arthur asks.

"Oh yeah," they say, smiling at each other.  "Just let us fix ourselves up.  We'll be back in a second."

"No sweat," Arthur says, smiling and waving to them as they walk away.  It takes him a full hour to realize that they ain't coming back.

Dejected, rejected, and depressed, Arthur stumbles back to Bessie in a drunken haze.  He passes out as soon as his face hits the pillow, and soon the whole night is forgotten.

--- Star Wars ---

Morning breaks over the Vesanto skyline along with the standard holographic advertisements, daily news, and entertainment features.  Arthur is the first to wake.  Peeling himself off his bed, still dressed in last night's clothes, he heads off to the washroom to see just what kind of creature relieved itself in his mouth last night.

Slowly the memory of who he is and why his head feels like it holds a pissed off rancor comes back to him.  He smiles when he thinks of the girls; frowns when he realizes he woke up alone and fully clothed.  Oh well, could have been worse.  The ship's unfinished repairs lie foremost in his mind, so he heads off to pick up the parts he needs.

--- Star Wars ---

"I can't believe this!  You're throwing me out!  Who the hell do you think you are, you two-bit little prick know-nothing wannabe!"

This is the first thing Arthur hears when he gets near Bessie.  He notices that the gangway is down, and he can see a pair of bare legs on the top of it.  This should be interesting, he thinks.

He hears a laugh from inside the ship.  "Thanks for the night, it was nice getting to know you, now get the hell off my ship."  It's Troy's voice.  His ship? Arthur thinks.  The last of my royal funds didn't go towards buying Troy a present.

"My boyfriend will kick your sorry little spaceboy ass when he finds you," the stripper continues as she's forced down the gangway.  Her clothes are bunched up in her hands, covering little of her assets.  She doesn't seem to care.  "Him and Big Quince are friends and they'll pay me good cash to get their hands on you!  You'll get what's coming-"

The unmistakable cry of a blaster rifle being fired cuts her off and seems to shut her up.  At the bottom of the gangway, she stares in horror at the armoured men, all bearing blasters, gathered by the ship.

"Arthur Denfrey, Troy Chance, this is your only warning: leave your ship peacefully and nobody will get hurt."  It is a metallic voice, coming from one of the hunters clad in full body power armour.

" you all," is Troy's reply.  He scrambles back up into the ship, leaving last night's acquaintance alone and naked at the bottom of the gangway, trembling in fear.  Everyone watching is impressed that she can actually run that fast.  Must be all the dancing that keeps her body in shape.

Arthur sets down his supplies and tries to head around behind one of the groups of bounty hunters.  There are at least three that he can see, and at least one that he can't.  He slips his blaster into his hand and waits for a clear shot.

In the ship, Troy rummages through his supplies and pulls out his new rifle.  Feyd steps out of his cabin, his hair and clothes a mess but seemingly recovered.  "Feyd, we've got company.  Where the  is Arthur?"

"I don't know.  Outside?"

"Great.  Get that fancy glow-stick of yours and get ready for a fight."

"The path of a Jedi is peace," Feyd says.  "I think that my master would suggest a peaceful solution to this."

"If you don't fight now you're never going to see your master again."  A blast goes off that rocks the ship.  "Tell your droid to power up Bessie.  I'm going to try and keep them from tearing her apart."

"I will trust my feelings and assist you," Feyd says.  He follows Troy to the open gangway.

"Thanks a bunch."  Taking cover behind the entrance, Troy points out at the fuel receptacles and empty anion containers that the bounty hunters are hiding behind.  "There's three over there, and another one hiding over there.  One of those three is the leader, I think."  An armoured head pokes up from behind a container and fires a bolt from his rifle, barely missing the Feyd.  "You still think we should talk?"

A hum springs from Feyd's lightsabre.  "My master told me to use the force only in defence."

"Great, kid.  Now, if you can blast that - hey, where the hell are you going?"  Troy watches while Feyd rushes out into the open ground, charging the lone bounty hunter, and curses to himself.  He spots a hunter about to throw a grenade, takes quick aim, and fires.  The bolt goes wide, but another bolt coming from behind the hunter hits him in the back.  The grenade rolls harmlessly towards the rear of the ship.  Arthur's improved his aim, Troy thinks to himself.

With Arthur revealing himself, the two bounty hunters fire at him.  Both shots impact harmlessly against Arthur's cover.  Troy shifts to get a better angle of fire, but is jarred from his cover, and the ship, as the unattended grenade explodes beneath the ship.  He rubs his eyes and fires off a shot to cover himself.  He hears another blaster rifle ring out, and then feels a burning pain run down his leg, the bounty hunter having connected.

Meanwhile, Feyd engages his man in melee combat.  He swings wildly, missing the bounty hunter and nearly cutting himself.  His emotions are running wild and his heart is racing; he is not yet the calm Jedi Knight that his master is trying to make him.

Arthur takes a look at Feyd, swinging wildly, and smiles to himself; not for long, as a bolt hits him in the side.  Pain rushes through his body, and he retreats once again behind his cover.

On the ground, Troy realizes that things are looking grim.  He scrambles behind the lowered gangway just as a bolt hits where he was.  He hears the crackle of Bessie's engines starting up.  At least one member of the crew can get his act together.  He fires off another bolt, but hits the bounty hunter's cover once again.

Arthur, grimacing in pain, peeks around the corner.  He looks right at the barrel of a hunter's rifle and ducks back as quick as possible.  A bolt flies right by him.  He reaches around the wall with his pistol, firing blindly at the hunter, hoping he gets off a lucky shot.  He hears nothing; the bolt must have gone wide.

Feyd faces off against his opponent, taking a waiting stance that his master was fond of.  The hunter runs by him, towards the gangway and the ship; Feyd takes this chance to swing at the hunter, catching him on his back but failing to break through his armour.  The hunter stumbles along, but continues to run.  

Troy sees the hunter running towards him, takes one quick shot, and the hunter falls.

Arthur, knowing that his cover will be worthless soon, makes a wild run towards the ship with his blaster in front of him.  He fires the moment he sees the bounty hunter, and this bolt flies true; the bounty hunter falls to his knees, but it seems as though his armour saved him.  Arthur keeps running, hoping that he won't feel the hot burn of a blaster bolt between his shoulders.

Troy takes another blast at the hunters, and catches one in the head.  The hit takes the hunter out cold, his blast helmet crumpling before the impact.  He stumbles out of his hiding spot, waving the others into the ship.

"Let's get the hell off this rock!" he says as Arthur and Feyd rush into the safety of the ship.  They feel the slight tremors of blaster bolts hitting the hull, but soon Arthur is in his pilot's seat and guides Bessie away.

Troy stumbles into the cockpit.  "What the hell was that?" he asks.

"Don't look at me," Arthur says.  "I guess they were friends of Big Quince or somebody."

"True, but they still shouldn't have known our names.  How did they learn our names, anyway, Arthur?  I used my alias and Feyd was passed out all night.  So tell me, you didn't let anything slip, did you?  Didn't do anything stupid like you did back on Elshandrau Pica, did you?"

"Hey, I'm the captain of this ship and I say what goes."

"Thought so.  You gotta watch yourself when you get drinking."  Troy leaves the cockpit, passing Feyd on the way.  "Hey kid, that sabre of yours is fancy, but you've got to learn to use a blaster.  We'll pick one up for you on the next planet."

"The lightsabre is the traditional weapon of the Jedi Knight," Feyd replies.  "Not so clumsy or random as a blaster."

"When you're a Jedi Knight, maybe you should try using it.  For now, just stick to what's tried and true."  

Troy leaves.

"Where are we headed next?" Feyd asks Arthur.

"Somewhere deep in the outer rim.  Shownar, probably.  Nice planet, tourist hangout, which means lots of small traffic.  We should fit in no problem.  Plus, there's a big black market there.  We'll be able to make some money there."

"We could go back to my master, Til-Gon," Feyd says.

"Aww, you're not going to start with that again, are you?"

_[Still part of the first night's adventure... next time I'll post the conclusion and get on to the second game.]_


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## LostSoul (Jun 12, 2002)

A week and a half later, Bessie pulls into dock amid the towering crystal spires of Shownar.

Troy and Arthur head off the ship in search of cash.  Troy hits the casinos and underground gambling dens, while Arthur looks around for some kind of legitimate cargo contract.  Feyd, having never seen such a planet before, wanders around the cities that wind up the massive crystal spires far above the "ground-clouds" below.  He runs into all sorts of merchants, selling things he had never before heard of (and some he hopes he will never hear of again).  He buys a new set of clothing, hoping to blend in with the cosmopolitan galaxy - and with his two new shipmates.

Arthur breaks the news when they meet again in the evening.  "A contract," he says, "to haul some water from here to a planet called Taul.  It's in the same sector, so if we hurry we should be able to get it done in four days."

"How much does it pay?" Troy asks.

"Fifteen thousand."  Troy's eyes go wide.

"I may not know much about galaxy finances," Feyd says, "but that sounds like a lot for a shipment of water."

"Yeah, what's the catch?" Troy says.

"Well... the people we're supposed to deliver the water to are under Imperial blockade."

"Rebels?" Troy says.  Feyd lights up.

"Looks like it."

Troy moans.  "I thought we weren't going to get involved with hopeless causes."

"All we have to do is slip in under the cruisers, drop off the water, and we're done with it all.  I can pilot us through anything those Imperials can offer.  It's supposed to be a light blockade - just a pair of corvettes.  Not much fighter cover."

"All right," Troy says, "but just remember I think this is a bad idea."

--- Star Wars ---

The hyperspace journey is short and forgettable.  Arthur fended off Feyd's questions about his rebellion contacts - all gone into hiding, and no, I don't want to see if I can find them - until Troy reminded Feyd he was supposed to bring Arthur back to his "master" before running around with the rebels.  After this, Feyd resumed trying to convince Arthur and Troy to head back to the hidden asteroid base.

The rebel intelligence was right; only a token Imperial force guarded the planet.  It was child's play for Arthur to land, dodging the turbolaser blasts from the orbiting corvettes.  Arthur guided Bessie towards the rendezvous point, flying just a few metres above the ground to avoid detection.  

The planet itself was a wasteland, and from their vantage point they could still see pockets of firefights, Imperial and Rebel troops battling it out.  Whatever it was they had been fighting for on this desolate rock had long since been destroyed.  Feyd had the feeling that it was a grudge match, one that both sides would continue to fight until they had no strength left.  Of course, this meant victory for the Empire.  The planet would be abandoned in the future.

--- Star Wars ---

Landing at the rebel base, Feyd feels a ripple in the Force.  The Dark Side is strong, here.

Unloading the supplies goes quickly, the beleaguered rebel troops delighted that they can continue the fight.  As always, the rebels attempt to recruit more for the cause...

"...won't you fight for the cause that you know is right?  If you join with us, we can provide support for you in return.  You'll never be able to retake your throne without our help."

"Our problems are ours, yours are yours."  Arthur's reply was short and sweet, as was Troy's; "I've got enough reasons for the Empire to want me dead, thanks."  Feyd was silent, torn between his desire to fight against the Empire and his current mission for his master.

"There will come a time when your responsibilities will catch up with you.  Either by your rules or theirs."

--- Star Wars ---

With the supplies unloaded, the group leaves the rebels behind.  Arthur skims across the planet's surface, relying on current rebel recon to bring them off planet as far from the nearest corvette as possible.  A shiver runs through him as he begins the ascent into space.

"I've got a bad feeling about this," Feyd says, staring out the cockpit and towards the depths of space.

Suddenly, just as Bessie leaves the atmosphere, a large, heavily armed cruiser and a light escort frigate drop out of hyperspace.  The shiver Arthur feels chills him to the bone, and Feyd senses the presence of the Dark Side.  It is a something he has felt before.

"It's Alexi," he says, as the cruiser beyond them launches a wave of TIE fighters.

"Yeah, that's the Kalarba's Honour," Troy says. "I told you this was a bad idea.  Feyd, head to the turret.  I've got the co-pilot's controls.  Switching auxiliary power over to weapons."

Feyd runs off.  "Uh... got it!"

They all feel the deep pull of inertia as Arthur guns Bessie's single ion engine.  Boxed in on one side from an approaching corvette, on the other by the heavy guns of Alexi's Loronar Class Strike Cruiser and the anti-star fighter Lancer Frigate, they try to break for open space before they come under fire by the capital ship's heavy guns.

"Feyd! TIEs coming in at you!" Troy barks.

"I see 'em," Feyd responds over the crackle of the intercom.  Blaster fire lights up space for a second, coming from both Bessie and the TIEs.  Arthur swings the ship around, out of danger for a moment, and the TIEs swoop by.  One of the TIEs is spinning out of control, ions leaking from it.

"I got one!" Feyd yells.

"Keep it up!"  Troy yells back.  Bessie speeds away from the TIE fighters, running towards the heavy guns of the big ships.  Arthur hopes they won't have time to fire, but he knows they'll face at least one volley of fire.  Come on, Bessie, don't let me down...

The TIE fighters scream along as they make another pass; this time, Feyd grazes one of them, not enough to knock it out of combat.  Bessie is still untouched, thanks to Arthur's piloting, but he can't hold up for long.  Either they make it out now, or Alexi would have them.

The space in front of Bessie fills with laser and ion blasts.  Arthur grips the controls tightly and plunges into the fray.  One laser hits, and rocks the ship; then another, and another, and another.  Damage warnings flash on then die out from power shortages.  Feyd, Troy, and Arthur are knocked back and forth from the impact of the blasts.

"Come on, Bessie, hold together..." Arthur prays.  She sputters out of the field of fire, having survived the first blast.  "Troy, hyperspace, now!"

And on R2-FU's programmed co-ordinates, Bessie lurches into hyperspace and out of Alexi's hands for the second time.

--- Star Wars ---

A couple of days passed, longer than any of them had expected.  The hyperdrive-powering regulator had been hit, and there was no way to repair while in hyperspace.  The rest of the ship, once the crew took a full damage assessment, was just barely holding itself together.  Another hit would have taken the ship out.  Arthur and Troy couldn't believe it; Feyd chalked it up to the "Will of the Force".  Now that they were back on Shownar, with some money left over, they felt like taking it easy.

--- Star Wars ---

"Okay, here's the take from the job.  I took some off the top for repairs for good old Bessie.  The rest we're going to split between the three of us."  

"Three of us?" Troy asks.  "It's our ship - "

"- my ship," Arthur cuts in.

"- and we have to split it with this kid?  Where's the fairness in that?"

"R2-FU's mine, after all," Feyd says, "and without him it would have been hard to punch in those hyperspace co-ordinates.  Besides, I took care of a few TIE fighters, more than you did."

"What are you trying to say?  I was regulating ion power flow!  If it wasn't for me we'd be dead in space."

"Cut it out, guys," Arthur says.  "I'm going to buy a shield generator, maybe get a med droid.  I'll meet you back here whenever."

"I'm going to find a casino.  Try to keep out of trouble, kid, and don't spend all that money in one place."

"No problem."  Feyd felt like the two scoundrels were beginning to accept him.  "Come on R2, let's see the sights."  R2 beeps rudely.  "Okay, fine then.  Stay with your new 'lady'."

--- Star Wars ---

A few hours pass, and Arthur returns to Bessie.  Supplies in hand, shield generators on their way, and a 2-1B droid following him, he grabs himself a dantic and logs into the galactic holo-net.  His "secret" royal account, still active and undetected, is his only way to reach the resistance still fighting for him on Kalarba.  He hopes to send a message back that he's evaded Alexi successfully twice now, hoping the news will lighten his supporters.  Downloading the messages, mostly spam piled up from account inactivity, he picks out an encoded one meant for his eyes only.  On the surface it is a simple greeting from his old nanny.  He runs it through a filter and receives the real message.

"Prince Arthur, the resistance desperately needs your help.  The campaign goes poorly for us; supplies are at a minimum.  Moff Darksun, commanding the garrison in Alexi's absence, has sent Imperial troops to increase all security measures.  They have raided a weapons cache and struck a vital blow.  The troops are demoralized and, although fiercely loyal, in your long absence they are beginning to doubt.

"We need your support in obtaining a new supply of small arms weapons to carry on the fight; but, more importantly, the troops need to hear a personal message from you, their liege.  You must rally the troops, let them know that you are still alive, and free, and supporting them.  That we are fighting on the side of right and must, inevitably, win.

"With love, your old nanna, Maia."

Arthur slumps back in his chair.  Kalarba - a virtual fortress.  I've not been back since the night of the coup.  I have no idea how I would return.  Hopefully the others will show up soon, help me out with this one.

--- Star Wars ---

"Having a good night, sir?" a bartender asks Troy.

"Not bad," Troy answers.  "Corellian whiskey, neat."

The bartender pours the drink.  "I think it's going to get a lot better."  He nods his head to the side.  Troy looks and sees a woman looking his way.  "She told me she'd get the first Corellian whiskey you ordered."

"Good guess, huh," Troy answers, still looking at the woman.  He takes a sip of his drink and walks over to her.

"Hello, Troy Chance," she says.  Still lounging in her seat, she reaches out with her leg and pushes another chair out from under the table.  "Have a seat?"

"Thanks," Troy says and takes her offer.  "And thanks for the drink."

"Still Corellian whiskey.  I guess you haven't changed much."

"Not much, Leelu," he says.  "You still look the same.  As good as ever."

"And you.  If I didn't know better, I'd say that being a on the run agrees with you."

Troy laughs.  "You know me well enough to know that I've been on the run my whole life."

The two of them share drinks and stories, catch up on old times.  Everything seems to lead either to current events or things in the past that they'd rather not bring back up.  Too many things come back to life with some old stories.

"Troy, do you trust me?"

"You know that I do."

"I need your help with something.  Nothing dangerous; I just need somebody who can be discreet."

"I guess I'm your man."

"Walk with me.  Let's get some fresh air, out of this place."  The two get up, and leave the casino.  They continue their talk while walking on one of the balconies that ring Shownar's spires.  The sunlight, reflecting off the polished crystal, sends rainbows dancing through the sky.  

"I'm working for the rebel alliance now," she says.

"I've heard of them."

"I've got to get a man off planet.  A defector, a high-ranking Imperial officer.  We've been running ever since slipping off the supply port at Lotide.  We've run out of contacts, cornered ourselves.  Inquisition agents are crawling around."

"Not dangerous at all."

"We've got to get off planet.  The information this man holds - it could make a big difference in this whole quadrant.  We've got to get off."

"Why not just you - we could get you off without a problem.  Why not just record what he knows, and take off?"

"I can't leave him, Troy - he's my husband.  I love the man."

Troy nods knowingly.  "Okay, we can do it."

"You are a life saver, Troy Chance.  It won't be safe to contact him until later tomorrow.  That should give you time to prepare."

"You might as well spend the time with us.  It's the safest way for everyone."

"You're right."

--- Star Wars ---

Feyd was enjoying himself in the modern galaxy.  Everything that you could ever think of, right there for you.  And the sights!  Such entertaining vistas and natural wonders, enhanced by the subtle dwellings of the inhabitants.  It was a beautiful world.  Feyd was losing himself in his discoveries.

His awareness snaps back when he feels a cold, metal hand clamp down on his shoulder, and the words whispered in his ear:

"Hello, Jedi..."

--- Star Wars ---

[Stay tuned for Star Wars: Heroes of Kalarba, Episode II: Cyborgs and Bounty Hunters]


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## Jodo Kast (Jun 12, 2002)

Wow, a couple of action packed installments there, LostSoul.  I'm impressed ... looking forward to more Star Wars goodness (or badness, as the case may be with your game's edgy anti-heroes).  You're doing a great job of portraying the seedy underbelly of the galaxy.


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## LostSoul (Jun 15, 2002)

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. . .

_A vast sea of stars serves as the backdrop for the main title.  War drums echo through the heavens as a roll-up slowly crawls into infinity._

STAR WARS

Episode II: Cyborgs and Bounty Hunters

"Hello, Jedi..."

Feyd spins around, hand on his lightsabre, ready for whatever is facing him.  His Force sense are alert, and he curses silently for allowing himself to be caught up in the strange sights of Shownar.  A Jedi faces too many dangers to risk losing his focus.

He faces a middle-aged man, dressed in an eclectic mix of clothing haphazardly picked from the galaxy's cultures and histories.  His metal hand leads into a cyborged forearm.  One of his eyes has been replaced by an implant, and it gives off an eerie red glow.  His long, dark, coarse hair is tied in a pony tail, off of his face.

He smiles.  Feyd stares him down.

"Be calm, young Jedi, I mean you no harm," the cyborg says.  "I am not here to hurt you, Force willing."

"Who are you," Feyd asks, "and what do you want from me?"  Feyd's body is still tensed for action.

"They call me Payrd Sei deFreet," the cyborg says.  "I am a seeker in the old meaning.  I search for truth through knowledge.  I am what the layman calls a Techno-Mage, although that is but a word, and I am so much more.

"I sensed the Force in you," he continues.  "It called me to you.  This meeting was destined."

Feyd reaches out with the Force.  "You're telling the truth."  He relaxes his guard.

Payrd laughs.  "Lying only obscures knowledge.  There is nothing to be gained through its use."

"My master says that truth only comes from a certain point of view."

Payrd laughs again.  "And of course, your master is also correct.  For sometimes, both the lie and the truth are one and the same."

Feyd furrows his brow.  "You said that you are seeking truth.  What truth is that?"

"Ah, my boy, the Force will reveal that to me in due course.  I only let myself be carried away on its gentle currents."  Payrd pauses, and focuses on Feyd.  "Enough questions of me; tell me, young Jedi, what is your name, and how did you survive the purges and make your way here?"

Feyd recognizes the strange patterns of speech.  He's heard his master talk in a similar style.  "I am Feyd, Padawan Learner of Jedi Master Til-Gon.  We have hidden ourselves in the uncharted space beyond the outer rim."

"The resourcefulness of the Jedi never ceases to amaze me."

"You are not a Jedi Knight?"

"The Force is a universal phenomenon.  The Jedi are not.  It should be reasoned, then, that there are more ways of understanding the Force than the restrictive fashion the Jedi take.

"Look at me," he continues, "would a Jedi fashion himself with mechanical parts?"

"Of course not," Feyd answers.

"Typical Jedi stubbornness.  They study the Force in a single aspect only, afraid to take on its whole.  The search for truth and understanding requires that one embrace all.  These mechanical parts are just as much of the Force as the skin on your bones or the heart in your chest."

"What about the Dark Side, and the dangers it brings?  You don't want to give up your will to hatred and evil."

"The 'Dark Side', the Bogan Force, is not a thing to be feared, as the Jedi teach.  If you understand the truth behind it, the truth behind all things, it is simply another manifestation of the Force.  If you turn your back on that, you turn your back on the Force itself.  Nothing can be without its shadow.

"If the Jedi understood that," he goes on, "they might still exist."

Feyd feels a ripple in the Force as a feeling of anger grows in him.  "Payrd, it's been interesting meeting you.  I don't understand what you've said, but I will meditate on it."

"We must each search for truth in our own ways, of course," Payrd says.  He starts to leave Feyd, then turns back: "Our paths will cross again.  Soon.  Be well, young Jedi."

--- Star Wars ---

Feyd is still thinking about his chance meeting with Payrd as he reaches Bessie.  His thoughts leave him, however, when he sees the heavily armoured man, wearing enough ordnance to blow Bessie to bits, talking to Troy and Arthur.  He puts his hand on his lightsabre.

"You're willing to do this, free of charge?" Feyd hears Troy say.  Troy looks at Arthur and Arthur shrugs.

"Not free of pay," the armoured man says in a tinny voice through his blast helmet.  "Just free for you."

"Right," Troy says, sarcastically, "this other guy is paying you.  How do we know you don't just want to take the ship, or something like that?"

"If I wanted that, I could have taken it already."  Troy and Feyd both notice the man's hands reach closer to his pair of heavy blaster pistols, slung quick draw style, as Feyd approaches.  Feyd stops.

"Hey Feyd," Troy calls out, his eyes lingering on the armoured man, "this is Darius.  A bounty hunter who's supposed to be our bodyguard."

"Bodyguard for the owner of this ship," Darius says.  "I don't care what happens to you or your woman."

Feyd focuses the Force for a moment.  "Nice to meet you, Darius," he says after a few seconds.  He offers his hand to Darius.

"What kind of crew have you got here?" Darius asks without taking Feyd's hand.  "Kids and pampered rich women aren't going to cut it against a pirate raid."

"I'm more than just a kid," Feyd says.

"So do you want me, or not?" Darius asks.

Troy looks over at Arthur.  "What could it hurt?" Arthur says.

"You're in," Troy says, "and I hope you're ready for action."

"What's going on?" Feyd asks.

"I ran into an old friend at the casino.  She's going to pay us for taking her contact off-world."

"Sounds easy enough," Darius laughs.

"They're wanted by the Imperials."

"That could make things difficult," Darius says.  "They're crawling all over this place."

"The rest of you don't have to come," Troy says, "she's my friend, my responsibility."

"What else have I got to do?" Arthur asks.  "Just for the record, though: I think this is a bad idea."

"Fighting against the evils of the Empire is always worth my time.  You can count on my lightsabre."

"Great, Feyd," Troy says.  "I'm sure that will help a lot."

"Light-sabre?" Darius asks.  "You mean the kid's going to come with us?"

"I'm more than just a kid!"

_[Darius is the fourth PC.  He was a bounty hunter that liked to shoot first and shoot later.  He was hired to protect Arthur by... well, we'll get into that later.  At this time, even Darius didn't know for whom he was working.  Just that they paid well.]_

--- Star Wars ---

Early next day, Leelu leads the group across the spires, meandering this way and that, stopping off at tourist shops and marketplaces.  After many hours of seemingly pointless wandering, the group arrives at an entrance leading deep into the crystal of one of the spires, the living area of Shownar's natives.

"He's not much farther, now," Leelu says as they head into the darkness of the inner tunnels, lit only intermittently by strange crystal lights.  "Everyone, get ready."

"I've been ready for the past three hours," Darius says.

"Glad to know it," Troy snaps back.

The group passes around another bend.  "Our man is being held in a dwelling at the far end of this tunnel."

"I'll wait here and cover your backs," Darius says.  "Try not to get killed or anything."

The rest of the group heads through a crystal curtain and into the small, dark dwelling.  It is a simple single room.  A small bed has been folded out of one of the walls.  A man, covered in rags, lies on the bed.  Another man, this one a near-human Shownar native, stirs a pot cooking over a crystal hot-plate.

"No no," the native says, "friend sick, wasting sick."

"It's okay," Leelu says.  The rag-covered man sits up.

"Leelu?" he says.  "Ah, Leelu, it's so good to see you again."  He leaps out of bed and hugs her, planting a kiss on her cheek..  Arthur and Feyd exchange a look.  "These are the men that are going to help us?"

"Yes," she says, stepping away.  "This is Troy Chance, an old friend."

"Laszlo Inimpi," he says, shaking Troy's hand.  "We, and the free peoples of this sector, are grateful for your help."

"Don't mention it.  I just hope they've got the credits we've agreed on."

"Once we get back to the rebel base," Laszlo says.  "Let's hurry.  I don't know how safe we are, here."

A comlink buzzes on.  "I think the rebel might be right," Darius says.  "Eight troopers are headed right for you.  Get ready."

Feyd's lightsabre jumps to life in a hum and he moves to the entrance.  Everyone else pulls a blaster.  Troy and Arthur grab some cover and get ready to fire at the door.  Leelu, Laszlo, and Arthur head for the back entrance.

"I'll try and hold them off," Feyd says, and leaps out to stand in the entrance.  "The rest of you can make for the back entrance!"

"Don't be crazy, Feyd," Troy says, and squeezes off a shot at the eight white-armoured Imperial stormtroopers bursting into the dwelling.

The next few seconds are a chaotic mess of blaster bolts, sabre swings, and falling bodies.  Feyd swings his lightsabre gracefully, quicker than the eye can follow, and a stormtrooper crumples in a bloody mess before him.  Standing in the entrance, he embraces the stormtrooper's fire, guiding each bolt away from him and those behind him.  Two more stormtroopers fall down from a quick barrage of fire from Darius' heavy blaster pistols.  Troy gets off another shot and takes one down.

The back door is blown off its hinges as a group of four more stormtroopers crashes into the room.  Arthur lets out a quick shot and takes down the nearest one, then ducks for cover.  Laszlo and Leelu do the same, but Leelu is clipped by a blast.

Darius takes a quick look around and sees at least ten more stormtroopers running towards the fray.  He holsters one blaster while firing with the other, blasting two stormtroopers and sending them to the ground.  With his free hand, he reaches for a thermal detonator, arms the device, and throws it into the middle of the stormtroopers.  When the detonator lands, a huge explosion erupts from it, turning the entire tunnel into a blazing inferno.  The roof of the tunnel collapses, cutting off the tunnel in that direction.

"We're clear on this side, guys," Darius says, "clear a path to the back door and we'll be good to go!"

Feyd is still standing in the front door's entrance, jaw clenched, trying to hold off the troopers with his lightsabre.  He is letting the Force flow through him and into his sabre, guiding his actions.  The troopers take a moment to aim, and Feyd stares right down the barrels of the blasters.  He falters for a second, letting fear grip him, and a rain of fire falls on him.  Feyd blocks one blast, then two, but his body is riddled with the rest.  Smoking, he falls down in a pool of his own blood.  

The troopers move forward in force.  Troy blasts the first one to come through the door, but that doesn't faze the others.

Arthur and Laszlo exchange fire with the troopers at the back, neither gaining nor giving ground.

Darius grins coldly beneath his blast helmet and brings his two pistols to bear on the remaining three troopers in the front door.  Slowly walking forward, he lets loose on the troopers.  When the smoke clears, only one stands.  "I've got things covered at this end," he says, letting his armour absorb the stormtrooper's return fire.

Troy slides back to Arthur's position and fires a shot, nailing one of the stormtroopers in the head.  "Feyd did some nice work up there," he says.

"We'll see if that two-one-bee droid I bought is worth it," Arthur says, "once we get out of this mess.  I told you this was a bad idea."

"Nice," Troy says, dodging a blaster bolt.

A few more rounds of blaster fire ring out behind them, along with a heavy thump.  Darius steps into the entrance, reloading his hand cannons.  The troopers at the other end of the room send a few bolts his way; Darius rolls around the doorway, dodging the blasts.  He returns fire, aiming directly into the remaining troopers, sending blast after blast until both chambers run empty.  When the smoke clears, all troopers lay still.

"We've gotta get this kid to a doctor," Darius says, grabbing Feyd and slinging him over his shoulder.

"There's one on our ship," Arthur says.  "Let's go."

"You okay to move, Leelu?"

"Just a graze, Troy.  I'll be fine."  She stands up from behind her cover, supporting herself on Laszlo.

_[This was the fight where Darius learned to love the thermal detonator.]_

--- Star Wars ---

"They must have been watching you," Troy says as they rush through the streets of Shownar.  Alarms ring out and people scramble off the streets.

"Must have," Leelu says through clenched teeth.  "Imperial Inquisitors.  Caught our trail on Pesmenben IV."

"If that's true," Darius says, "they're probably watching your ship.  I'll head out in front and try and take them by surprise."  Darius rushes ahead of the rest, his blasters still hot in his hands.

"Good thing we got the walking tank on our side," Troy says to Arthur.

Darius rushes up ahead of the group, coming up to Bessie's landing pad.  As expected, it's covered by two squads of stormtroopers.  Great, he thinks, I've seen more action in one day guarding this guy than I have for the past year.

"We got trouble up ahead, guys," Darius says to the others over his comlink.

"You're going to have to do something about it," Troy calls back, "we got more coming this way, too."

Darius takes a look at the trooper's formation.  If only I had another thermal detonator.  "Hurry up and get here," he says, "I'll have things cleaned up for ya."

Darius plans his approach, checks his ammo, and gets ready to move forward.  Suddenly, Bessie's engine begins to power up.  The troopers look in surprise, and a few of them break formation.  No time better than now, Darius thinks, and steps into the open, blasters firing away.  If I take down enough of them, I'll have a chance.

Two troopers go down before they recover and take cover, shooting random shots at Darius.  He's able to dodge the first few, the closest one almost grazing his armour, but once they focus that'll be it.  I needed to take out more than two, he thinks, ducking down behind cover.

The rest of the group runs up next to him.  "I ran into a little trouble," Darius says.  "How're things behind us?"

"Not good.  A couple of squads and speeders are coming."

Darius peeks his head around the corner.  The troopers are moving up in formation, firing at his position to keep them pinned down.  Soon they'll be in grenade range, and that'll be it for us.  "We've got to make a break for it."

As the able-bodied men rush out, blasters firing, another shape comes flying - literally - into the midst of the stormtroopers.  The distinctive high-pitched whine of a vibro-blade calls the attention of most of the stormtroopers, and they fire a few shots off at him.  He's too quick for them to get a bead on, and all shots fly wide.  He lands for a moment, right next to a trooper, and the next instant he's leaping again.  The trooper falls down, his white armour stained red and bearing a large gash.

Under the combined assault of the group and thier new ally, the stormtroopers fall without landing a single hit.

"Who are you?" Troy asks.

"I am called Payrd," the man - a cyborg - reveals to the group.  "A friend of Feyd's."

"Thanks for the help," Arthur says.

"The Force has guided me along this path," he says.  He reaches over to Feyd and places his fully organic hand on his body.  "We've little time for explanations, however.  I think our first goal should be leaving this place."

Feyd stirs, and opens his eyes.  "Payrd?" he says weakly.  He slowly, shakily, rises to his feet.

"Yeah, we'd better get going," Troy says, and the group - seven strong now, four more than Bessie arrived with - hurries onto the ship.  A few TIE fighters wait for them in space, but Arthur keeps them out of range until they jump into hyperspace.

_[Maybe having Payrd save the PCs was a little too much... but I think they were tired of the fighting by that point.  Anyways, Payrd's introduction to the group as a whole worked well.]_


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## Hammerhead (Jun 15, 2002)

Like the story hour!


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## Horacio (Jun 16, 2002)

A new edge in Starwars... I like it!


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## LostSoul (Jun 16, 2002)

Thanks.  My view of the Star Wars Universe isn't your typical one.


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## LostSoul (Jun 16, 2002)

_[Two installations today...]_

A long finger rises out of the ground, stained with blood.  Around it, nothing but darkness.

Strange writing appears.  Blood red writing as ancient as the galaxy itself.  Writing that was never meant to see the light of day.  Blasphemous writing.

The writing is caught in a web of steel.  A voice rings out.

"The tablet."  It is Til-Gon.  "The Ancient Tablet of Naga Sidow."

The writing is on the tablet, caught in the web.  A wise old judaa bird lands on it.  Its eyes are hungry.

"Retrieve the tablet before it is too late!"

Feyd wakes covered in sweat.  Til-Gon has spoken with him.  Now, to make sense of it all.

--- Star Wars ---

Two and a half days later, Bessie drops out of hyperspace near the world of Fangel.  It is a sphere of pure white glowing in space, its entire surface covered in ice.

"Are you sure this is the place?" Arthur asks.  "I'm getting no readings of life, or anything."

R2-FU lets out an annoyed whine.  A series of droid-speak comes up on Arthur's display.

"Yeah, R2, I know that's interference.  I don't think you could get any communications in or out."

"That's the place," Leelu says.  "There should be a communications post on the moon.  They'll give us proper broadcast codes so we aren't blown out of the sky when we land."

"You rebels are real trusting," Troy says.

Leelu tunes Bessie's communicators and speaks into the comm.  "Fang base, Fang base, this is field op thirteen-twenty-six requesting comm clearance.  Over."

A hissing, crackling voice comes through.  "Transmit codes," it barks.

"Transmitting now.  Over."  

A moment passes.  "They're going to have to get a lot more organized if they plan to win this war," Troy says, breaking the silence.  Feyd shoots a look at Troy; the rest of the group, crammed into Bessie's cockpit, ignore him.

"Code clearance confirmed, thirteen-twenty-six.  Wait for escort and proceed under minimal power.  Over."

Arthur shuts down main power and coasts in orbit on auxiliary.  Bessie's sensors, left on passive, don't pick up the two Z-95 Headhunters until they're almost on top of her.  Both star fighters drop communications pods attached to the ships by a micro-thin wire.  Arthur takes up position between them and the rebel star fighters guide him down towards Fangel.

Sensors crackle and whine as Bessie travels through the thick icy mists that cover the planet.  Arthur shuts them down as surely as his two escorts have.  They are flying close to him now, keeping visual contact at a range of only a few metres.  If Bessie had hidden weapons or a power supply, it would be child's play to take out the two escorts.  The rebellion must be short on supplies, Arthur thinks, if they can only afford two old ships for this job.

Suddenly the mists part and the group is treated to a view of the icy surface of Fangel.  Light from the three ships reflecting off the planet's surface scatters across miles and miles of smooth, icy plain.  The Z-95s guide Bessie further down where Arthur can see a series of giant crevasses carved into the ice.  Some of them even big enough for an Imperial Star Destroyer.  Bessie is led down one of the tunnels, watched by turbolaser enplacements the whole time.

Arthur takes the ship down and the group gets a good look around.  Fang base holds a huge number of star ships of all types.  One stands out from the rest: a Mon Calamari MC-80 Star Cruiser.  It dwarfs everything else.

--- Star Wars ---

"So what's the deal with these guys?" Darius asks, lounging back in Bessie's main cabin.  "We've been sitting around for a day now.  When are they going to give us our reward so we can get off this ice cube?"

"Patience," Feyd says, moving through his Jedi exercises while Payrd watches.  "If nothing else, this gives us time to make repairs to our ship."

"You are making progress, Jedi," Payrd says, "but you are over-extending on your third motion of the second rung."

"It's meant that way, Payrd," Feyd says, continuing to move.  "It draws out the motion and teaches the student patience and graceful recovery."

"Jedi exercises have always been so rigid," Payrd says.  "They were not designed for you.  For instance, with your frame, you will find that this maneuver - " Payrd pauses his speech while he leaps to his feet and proceeds to demonstrate a smooth, flowing strech " - will strengthen, tone, and emphasize flexibility while focusing the mind.  It served the warriors of Kalan Dor well for thousands of years."

Darius watches while spinning a blaster around in his hand.  "You guys aren't bad when it comes to that ancient stuff, but a couple quick shots or grenades and your fancy moves won't count for much."

Feyd's response was cut off before it began.  Arthur, dressed in a thick bantha fur coat with a heavy tool belt slung around his hips, walks into the cabin.  "Wait's over, guys.  Troy just called me, told me we can pick up our reward now."

"How much?" Darius asks.  Bonus pay was always welcome.

"Five thousand.  Between the four of us."

"Not bad," Darius says, already spending the money.

"We've got a chance to make some more," Arthur says.  "Some Admiral wants to speak with us."

"Let's go, then," Darius says, holstering his blasters.

--- Star Wars ---

"This is the Refax Imperial Comm Array," Lord Admiral Mountbatten says to the group, gathered together in the the small, cold, and dark conference room.  Feyd shivers, having only light Jedi robes, and tries to warm himself through the Force.  The chattering of his teeth is almost as loud as the hum from the holoprojector.  "It is a central Imperial Intelligence base, able to listen in on most transmissions across the sector.  As you can imagine, this makes it difficult to conduct operations from Fang base.

"Information that you secured for us has made a strike against this array possible.  With this comm array down, we will be able to raid the nearby supply dump on Lotide, as well as make hit-and-run attacks throughout the sector with impunity.  This is an important mission."

"Just how important?" Darius asks, leaning forward in his chair.

"We're willing to provide two thousand credits for each of you," Mountbatten says.

Troy and Arthur look at each other.  "Hardly enough," Troy says.  "It doesn't even cover the cost of our vessel.  Let alone the risk.

"A figure in the range of seven thousand - each - and a load of small arms worth the same."

The Admiral sighs.  "We are sorely pressed for funds," he says, "but your freighter and its unregistered transponder are necessary.  Six thousand, and the weapons."

Troy looks around the table.  "Deal."

_[The Lord Admiral Mountbatten and the 3rd Rebel Fleet show up again later on in the game.  In this game, the 3rd Rebel Fleet was one of Rebel's major armadas, just as important as Akbar's fleet that struck Endor.  The 3rd Fleet worked in the South Quadrant (while the Heroes of Yavin were in the North) and was terribly outgunned and outmanned.  (No Alderaan or Battle of Yavin to help them out.)  The Empire held this quadrant with an iron grip.  This kept the movie heroes out of our games and let us focus on our own heroes and villians.]_


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## LostSoul (Jun 16, 2002)

Bessie heads towards the Imperial installation, loaded down with twenty of the rebellion's best infiltrators: the infamous Black Knights, masters of the quick, silent kill.  Darius respects their craft but prefers loud noises and blinding lights.  He straps on his armour while Troy talks Bessie into Refax's docking bay.

"Our orders are to hit the central processing centre," Darius says.  "You guys are going to make a diversion."

"I'm assigning four men to guard the ship," the rebel captain says.  "Hopefully they won't see any action, if we do this quietly enough."

"I'm sure we can," Darius says, grinning beneath his armour.

Bessie lands.  Darius, Feyd, and Payrd get ready for action while Troy and Arthur try to work their way into the landing bay's control room.  "We need a scan done of our ship," Troy says, dressed in the black of the Imperial Navy.  "I think we're bleeding ions."

"Head on up," one of the naval troopers says, and waves.  Troy and Arthur enter the secured room.  Easy enough, Troy thinks.  Overconfidence.

In the control room, Troy approaches the single operator.  He has one hand on his blaster, the other on a comlink, eyes scanning for cameras and automated defenses.  He subtly points these out to Arthur.  "We need a scan done of our ship," Troy says, leaning over the operator.  "Bleeding ions."  Troy places his gun to the base of the man's skull.

"I didn't pick anything up," the operator says.  Those are the last words he ever speaks.

Troy triggers the comm signal and watches as Darius, Feyd, and Payrd lead a horde of rebel troops out of the ship.  Arthur blasts the room's cameras and turns off the docking bay's security sensors.  Within seconds the rebels have the area secured.

"The main control room is this way," Arthur says, displaying a flat hologram of the comm array's blueprints.  "It shouldn't be hard to reach it."

"We'll meet back here in ten minutes," Darius says.  He is met by a salute from the Black Knight's captain, and the groups split up.

Darius tries to keep up with Payrd, who dashes off towards the main control room, blasters ready.  Many times Darius hears the chaos of battle; but, seconds later, there is nothing left save the hacked and bloodied remains of Imperial naval troops.  Payrd is nothing if not efficient, he thinks.

The group arrives at a similar scene in the control room.  Bodies of communications operators and technicians litter the ground.  Most display screens are speckled with blood.  Payrd, having cleaned off one, seems to be re-tuning the array and scanning communications frequencies.  His one natural hand drips on the controls.

Feyd feels a ripple dance through the Force.

Troy locks the room and pulls out some detonite.  "Remember to keep these things apart," he says, "they'll blow if you get too much of the stuff together."  He and Darius place the heavy explosive throughout the room, hoping it's enough to blow the array to pieces; if not, at least enough to wipe out the array's computer controls.

Staring at the communications displays, Arthur recalls the words of Maia's last message.  "The troops need to hear a personal message from you, their liege.  You must rally the troops, let them know that you are still alive, and free, and supporting them.  That we are fighting on the side of right and must, inevitably, win."  What better chance to send a message to his people than from the Empire's very own transmitters?  He hardens his face, holsters his blaster in his shoulder, and tries to remember all those speech lessons he took when he was young.

When he is finished, Troy, Darius, and Feyd all stand speechless.  They realize that they are in the midst of epic events, events larger than all of them, events that make their own selfish desires seem as nothing.  For a moment, they feel the weight of this responsibility on their shoulders, each in their own way.  They deal with this in accordance with their nature.

"Let's get out of here," Troy says.  "Explosives are planted."

"Sounds pretty damn good," Daruis says.  "I can't wait to watch this bitch blow."

Arthur stands away from the holo-transmitter.  "Good idea," he says, drained.

Suddenly, Feyd feels a rush from the Force, the feeling he had earlier now pushing against him.  Payrd's strange obsession with the communication frequencies draws his attention.  He feels the universe reaching a point, coming to a head.  Feyd steps over to the strange force-user.

Payrd stops his scanning.  He focuses on one single frequency coming from Criton's Point, a world in the distant edges of the galaxy.  A wild grin comes over his face.  "This is it," he says, almost madly.  "The tablet is there!"  He turns, facing Feyd, his one eye glowing wild.

"Payrd, what - " is all the Jedi can get out before Payrd turns on him.  Letting out a blast of a thick, white foam from his cyborged arm, he sprays Feyd and Arthur.  Arthur is covered with the foam, which hardens instantly; Feyd shatters some of it with his sabre, breaking free.

"Blast him!" Troy yells, jumping into action.  But before he or Darius can react, another burst of foam covers them both.  

"What are you doing?" Feyd asks, not yet willing to strike at the cyborg.  Payrd aims his metal arm at Feyd and lets loose another cone of the white substance.  Feyd tries to block it with his lightsabre, but the cone covers Feyd's weapon arm and pins his hand.  

Within seconds, Payrd has all of them incapacitated.  He smiles wildly and runs away.

Darius blasts his way out of his cocoon, but too late.  Payrd has already fled the scene.  "What the  did that bastard do that for?  What the  is wrong with him?  I'm going to blast his ing head off his ing shoulders!  Leaving us here like nerfs in a rancor pit.  He's ing dead meat."  Feyd learns just how much bounty hunters like to swear.

It doesn't take long for the rest of them to free themselves and head after Payrd.  They reach the docking bay just in time to see him leave in a hyperspace-capable TIE prototype; just in time to hear the wailing of the comm array's alarm klaxons.

"Black Knights," Darius says over his comlink, "the hutt has his spice."

Holding the docking bay proves to be easy against the disorganized Imperial forces.  Soon all rebels are back aboard Bessie.  Arthur lifts her back into space, punches through hyperspace and back to the rebel stronghold.

--- Star Wars ---

"Everything's loaded," Arthur says, closing up Bessie's cargo hatches.  

"Good," Troy says, "I can't wait to get off this freezing piss pot."  Darius nods.

"You think we'll actually be able to deliver the weapons?" Arthur asks as they head up Bessie's gangway.

"Not a problem," Troy says.  "It's our home, after all."  They enter the cockpit, where Feyd is working with R2-FU.

"Was our home," Arthur says, slipping into the pilot's seat.  "Feyd, you and Spaz got the astrogation plotted?"

"Just about," Feyd says, stepping away from R2-FU.  "We'll need a couple minutes off-world to plot the final co-ordinates."

"Great," Arthur says, revving Bessie's engines.  "I love that sound."

Feyd steps away from R2 and Bessie's astrogation matrix.  The tiny display screen, meant for operators only, reveals their destination: Criton's Point.

--- Star Wars ---

_[Stay tuned for Star Wars: Heroes of Kalarba, Episode III: Criton's Point]_


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## LostSoul (Jun 17, 2002)

*Act One, Part Two: Enemies and Allies*

A long time ago, in a galaxy far, far away. . .

_A vast sea of stars serves as the backdrop for the main title.  War drums echo through the heavens as a roll-up slowly crawls into infinity._

*STAR WARS

Episode III: Criton's Point*

Bessie's engines hum as she hurtles through hyperspace.  Troy always found that a calming noise, the light vibration gently luring him to sleep.  He lies in his bunk, listening to the sound, half-aware.  Each ship has its own beat, he thinks.  Bessie's was always a calm, reassuring one.  Never had trouble sleeping in her.

I wonder if fighters feel the same?

Troy wakes up with a start.  In the darkness, all he can see is the time display.  Something doesn't seem right about it.

Where was Kalarba?

Troy flicks on the lights.  He had expected to enter Kalarba's system yesterday; when they didn't, they just figured it was a hyperspace plotting misstep.  Those things happen.  But they were two days late, two days late on a journey that should only have taken two days.  That's just not right.

Troy throws on some pants and heads to the main computer terminal.  "Wake up, Spaz," he says, kicking the astromech droid.  R2 whined and beeped unpleasantly.  Troy was glad he didn't know droid speak.  "Shut the hell up," he says.  "I want you to check astrogation, tell me where the hell we are."  

Spaz curses him with a series of high-pitched electronic squeals.

"I don't care what you think.  Just tell me where we are or I'm going to slap an inhibitor on you."

The droid blurts out a few more curses, then scomp-links with Bessie.  Her indicator lights light up like the fires on Kalarba City the night of the purge.

--- Star Wars ---

"What's going on?" Feyd says, rubbing his eyes.  He isn't tired.

"That's what we'd like to know," Troy says.  He had his arms crossed over his chest and was standing in front of Arthur and Darius.  "Do you know what's on Criton's Point?"

"No idea," Feyd says.  He was telling the truth here, at least.

"Either do any of us.  So we're wondering why the hell R2's got us heading there - we're running through the Portmoak sector right now."

"It is the will of the Force," Feyd says.  Darius laughs.

"I figured it would be some crap like that.  We're going to pull out of hyperspace and head towards Kalarba, and the Force can go  itself.  Along with your master, Tee Quon or whatever the hell his name is."

A wave of anger passes over Feyd.  "You can't do that.  I need to go to Criton's Point."

"We aren't going to see your master.  Arthur doesn't give a bantha's ass what you say."  Behind him, Arthur shrugs.  "Anyway, I checked the star charts.  It says, 'Criton's Point: No access by Imperial edict.'  That doesn't sound like a good place to hide."

"Just trust me, okay?"  Feyd sets his jaw.  Darius laughs again.  "It's something I've got to do!"

"Whatever.  We're pulling the ship out of hyperspace.  You're going to pay for spent fuel and lost time."

Troy leaves the room and Arthur follows.  Darius stays.  "Ballsy move, kid.  These guys don't like you too much already.  I think you're going to get dumped the next place we stop."

Feyd storms off.

--- Star Wars ---

Troy and Arthur slip into their piloting seats and pull Bessie out of hyperspace.  The ship lurches for a moment as the drive disengages itself.  Everything is normal again, and the two men stare out at an empty field of stars.  

Well, mostly empty.  A ship appears on the sensors.  It's moving closer to Bessie.

"What the hell is that?" Arthur says.  Troy focuses the sensors on the sleek, angular ship.  He can already tell it's putting out about six times the energy Bessie is capable of.  And it's moving fast.  Not a good sign.

Sensors data floods Troy's viewscreen.  "Imperial customs crusier," he says.  Arthur and Troy look at each other and swallow hard.  "Darius, Feyd," Troy says over the intercom, "get ready for a fight."

Bessie's comm speakers crackle.  "This is Captain Babel Torsh, of the ICC B-A.  You are in Imperial Interdicted Space.  Do not engage engines or we will be forced to open fire.  Reply."

"Uh, roger that, Captain," Troy says.

"Prepare to be boarded."  The Imperial Captain's words sound cold and dead coming through Bessie's old speakers.  

Troy cuts off the comm.  "Hyperspace?"

"No good," Arthur says.  "We'd have to maneuver around - the 'B-A' out there is cutting off our current window.  Either we go through that ship or we power up engines.  Bessie'd never be able to take the strain of hitting a ship like that while in hyperspace."

Troy shifts his holster around.  "I guess we get ready to welcome the boarding crew."

--- Star Wars ---


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## LostSoul (Jun 19, 2002)

*wherein the crap hits the fan*

Bessie's airlock hisses and squeals.  They were securely locked to the customs crusier and the boarding crew was coming across.  Troy, Arthur, and Feyd stood in the entrance, waiting for them.  Feyd hoped that his lightsabre, hidden in the folds of his Jedi robes, won't be picked up by the crew or their scanning devices.  Even moreso, they hoped that the crew wouldn't find Darius and his illegal weapons and armours.

The airlock crashes open and steam fills the passage between the two ships.  A floating sensor array is the first thing they see.  Next come the four Imperial naval troopers, outfitted with blasters, blast vests, and their huge black helmets.  Two sensor operators come next; then finally, the officer.  The troopers aim their blasters at Bessie's crew.

The officer approaches Troy.  "Are you the captain of this ship?"

"Yes," he says, "that's me, sir."

"Well, what's your name?  I haven't all day, you know."

"Paul Atreides," he says, "and this is our ship, the Dark Runner."

"You know, of course, that your transponder codes are being flooded with Karlisite particles."

"We're headed to space dock to fix that."

"Running without proper transponder codes is a class three offence."

"We ran across an ion storm in hyperspace," Troy says, "and we just dropped out to get it fixed."

"Even so," the officer says, "there are fines that must be paid for running dirty."  

Troy supresses a smile.  "I'm sure we can handle the paperwork," Troy says.  

The officer nods at him, smiling.  "Well, then," he says, and pulls out a datapad.  "We've just got to make a quick scan of the ship and take a crew manifest.  I'm sure you have no objections to us getting started right away - unless you'd rather take care of the paperwork now?"

"Sure," Troy says, relaxing his posture.  "You can scan later."  The officer moved towards Troy.

Suddenly Feyd chimed in.  "You don't need to scan the ship," he says, waving his arm and focusing his attention on the officer.

"What did you say to me, little one?"

Feyd tries again.  "Uh - you want to send the scanner crew back and leave our ship?"  Feyd's voice wavers and he touches his lightsabre.

"What are you trying to say?" the officer says, but is cut off by one of the troopers.  "Sir, he's got something under his robes."

"What?"  The officer takes a step back and reaches for his blaster.  Looking at Troy, he says, "What are you trying to pull?"

"Nothing," Troy says, trying a comforting laugh.  "This kid doesn't know much of the galaxy.  Look, everything will be okay -"

"Search him and take his weapon," the officer says.  "Scan the ship for any hidden power supplies or weapon sources."  When the first two troopers step towards Feyd, Troy grimaces.  Feyd stands in a rigid pose, a focused look in his eyes.  Troy knows where he's seen that before.

As soon as the first naval trooper touches Feyd, a hum fills the room.  Feyd's lightsabre springs to life.  "Get your hands off me," he says calmly.

"He's got a weapon!  Blast them!"  It turns out naval troopers aren't big fans of lightsabres.

Troy draws his blaster and jumps for cover, firing while in mid-air.  He burns a hole through the vest of one of the naval troopers, sending him flying back.  The trooper doesn't move again.

The hum of Feyd's lightsabre grows into a loud growl.  His lightsabre swings back and forth, blocking the bolts coming towards him.  He shifts his weight, moving from a defensive posture to an aggresive one, and hits the nearest trooper with his blade.  The trooper crumples.  Feyd keeps moving with his lightsabre, blocking shots that are coming for him.

"Arthur!" Troy yells, "get Darius!"  Arthur bolts.

Troy peeks his head around Bessie's interior walls and aims for the officer.  The officer, fumbling with his comlink, snaps a quick shot at Troy; it misses, and leaves a large carbon-scored hole in the wall.  "We're under attack!"  the officer is able to shout into the comlink before a well-placed shot from Troy's blaster catches him in the head.  The officer collapses, his blood splattered against the open airlock doors.

Feyd moves closer and closer to one of the troopers, his lightsabre always in front of him.  He blocks one last desperation shot from the nearest one, then finishes his stride by cutting the man's forearm off up to the elbow.  The last trooper flees out the airlock, following the path the two sensors operators already took.  Feyd stands, tightly gripping his lightsabre, victorious.

"What the hell kind of ing mynock piss idea was that?" Troy yells to Feyd.  "I had the guy ready to accept a bribe!  Why the  did you whip out your glowing prick?"

Feyd remains vigilant in the doorway.  "The lightsabre is the weapon of a Jedi Knight.  It is my duty to keep it safe.  I must not lose it."

"Oh yeah, so you risk all our necks here because of a stupid ing tube of metal.  What do your 'forceful others' say about that?"

"I did what needed to be done, nothing more."

"Let's not forget about the fact that we're strapped to an imperial ship that could blast us into shrapnel as soon as we take off.  Oh no, your 'Jedi weapon' is so much more important."

"Get off my back, Troy!"

"I just hope you realize that we're probably just as dead as these troopers here, all thanks to you and your great idea."

Feyd turns to face Troy.  "Shut up and leave me alone!"

Troy prepares another round of verbal abuse, but reconsiders it when he sees a small cylindrical object drop into the cabin.  It clinks as it hits the floor, again and again, falling closer and closer to Feyd.  Suddenly, after the wild rush of combat, everything seems so quiet.  Troy curls up into a ball and prays.

The grenade's explosion rocks the ship.  Troy peeks his head up, seeing nothing but smoke where Feyd once stood.  No way the kid could have survived that, Troy thinks.  Naval troopers are probably moving in now.  I hope Darius shows up soon.  

It doesn't take long for Troy to make out the shape of a blast helmet in the clearing smoke.  He takes aim, but his senses tell him something is out of place.  The smoke has a blue-violet tinge to it.  The ringing in his ears turns into a violent hum.

The smoke swirls around a risen Feyd.  His lightsabre lunges at the naval troopers.  It catches one and cuts him deep, leaving him on the ground in a bloody heap.  Blaster bolts fly out at Feyd.  All are blocked by his sabre.  

Troy smiles.  Not bad, kid, not bad at all.  Troy fires two quick shots at the dark shapes in the thinning smoke, and is rewarded with two heavy thumps.  

The smoke clears and Troy gets a look at Feyd.  His robes are torn, his padawan braids burnt away, and he is covered in his own blood.  But yet Feyd stands, his head lowered and eyes tensed, holding his lightsabre up and pointed at the remaining naval troopers.

The naval troopers move back.  "Three men fallen, no enemy casualties!"  Troy singles this one out and cuts a hole in his blast helmet.  The trooper falls with blood spurting erratically from his head.  

Feyd advances on the the two troopers remaining.  They level their blasters at Feyd and, with trembling hands, they fire.  Both are solid hits.  Feyd growls and cuts down one of the troopers.

Troy aims at the last one and fires.  The trooper is knocked back against the airlock wall, immobile.  Troy relaxes the grip on his blaster and watches Feyd.

Feyd advances on the downed trooper.  The trooper's empty hands are raised.  "No, please, no," he says.  Feyd isn't listening.  Feyd raises his lightsabre and thrusts it down into the trooper.  The trooper's pleas turn into screams, then gurgles.  Deep red blood gushes out the trooper's mouth as he flails around the lightsabre.  Feyd slowly twists his weapon in the man's gut.  The trooper still struggles against it.  Feyd continues to thrust his lightsabre into the man and he cuts deep into the floor.  Feyd's hands are stained by the fallen soldier's blood.  Finally, the twitching stops, and Feyd backs off.

Troy comes around the corner.  "Nice work," he says.  "When you mean business, you really don't mess around."  Feyd says nothing and moves to the airlock, closing and locking it.

Darius' arrival is heralded by the heavy clanking of his armour's boots against the metal floor grill.  Arthur follows behind him.  He reaches the scene of the battle with his two heavy blaster pistols drawn and fully-charged.

"What'd I miss?"

--- Star Wars ---

The silence in the Imperial customs crusier is deafening.  It is impossible not to feel exposed against the stark emptyness of the cold Imperial passages.  Troy and Feyd move through the main axis of the ship, trying to make as little noise as possible.  All they can hear is the sound of their own hearts beating.  

Feyd, moving in the front with his lightsabre aglow, motions to Troy.  Troy stops and swallows.  He looks at Feyd, who has slipped into some kind of trance.  His sabre isn't humming, Troy thinks.  I wonder if he's doing that.  Troy waits for Feyd's next move.

Feyd's eyes snap open.  "Most of them are in there," Feyd whispers, pointing to the room up ahead.  "I think they are going to try and put up a last stand.

"I say we show them who they're dealing with."  Feyd grips his lightsabre tightly and it lets out a deep, growling hum.

Feyd leaps into action with Troy creeping along behind him.  He walks slowly into the room, the bridge, his back straight and his jaw out.  Blaster fire flies out at him, but Feyd blocks it all with his whirling sabre.  Troy takes a shot from behind Feyd, blasting one of the few naval troopers left.

"I am Feyd, Jedi Knight," Feyd says, the words a deep rumble that seem to shake the very walls.  "You will surrender to me now or die."

Holy , Troy thinks.  Maybe there's something to his ramblings after all.

"I'm Captain Babel Torsh," one of the Imperial officers says.  "We don't recognize your authority here!"

Feyd stares at him.

Troy walks into the room and shoots near Babel Torsh's feet.  "This is our authority.  Drop your weapons and lie on the floor," he says.  The Imperials comply, lining up on the cold steel floor in front of Troy.

Troy turns to Feyd.  "Nice work."  Feyd stands rigid, hands tight on his lightsabre.

"I'll take them to the brig; you stay here and check out the controls.  Look over the crew manifest, too.  I want to make sure we've got all these bastards taken care of."

--- Star Wars ---

Troy descends a ladder leading from one engineering level to the next.  He takes a quick look at the Imperial readings and controls.  This ship's probably twice as fast as Bessie, he thinks.  Decked out with the newest Imperial tech.  Fancy .  I've never seen anything like this, not even in Arthur's Royal Starfighter Corps.

Troy reads over a power output screen.  In the reflection of the glass, he spots someone approaching him from behind.  Troy reaches for his blaster, slowly, hoping whoever that is doesn't see it; then, at the last moment, he draws his blaster and spins around.  He finds himself facing an Imperial wearing a tech jumpsuit, holding a large hydrospanner raised to strike at Troy.

Troy blocks the tool with his blaster, then knocks it out of the tech's hand.  "Nice try, idiot," Troy says.  He pistolwhips the tech.  "Get on your knees."  The technician obeys him.  Troy reaches out with his blaster, putting it to the tech's forehead.

"Please don't kill me," the technician says.  "I'm just here doing my job, trying to earn a living for my wife and kids."

"Wife and kids?" Troy asks.

"They're from Fornax," the tech mumbles.

"The Planet of Fire?  I've heard of it.  What do the fire-rings look like planetside?"

"Beautiful, just beautiful.  It's like the sun is always setting, like it's kissed the planet and made it blush."

"Wow, that's nice.  I'll bet you'd like to see that again."

"And my wife and kids..."

"Them too.  I'll tell you what: apologize to me, and I'll let you go."

"I'm sorry, sir, very sorry.  I didn't mean to do it."

"Hmm," Troy rubs his chin.  "Yeah, I just don't buy it.  Sorry.  Guess you're not going to see anything, anymore."

The tech jerks his head back, a reflexive move, but not quick enough.  Troy's blaster cuts a hole straight through the tech's head and out the other side.  Blood spurts out, covering Troy's pants with a fine layer of blood.

"Great," he says out loud, "now I'm going to have to get these cleaned."  He wipes himself off, then climbs the ladder out of the engineering bay.

--- Star Wars ---

_[The Dark Side is a GM's friend.]_


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## Horacio (Jun 19, 2002)

Dark Side has got him!


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