Author Topic: FINISHED: Star Wars: The Old Republic: The Czerka Crisis  (Read 5291 times)

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FINISHED: Star Wars: The Old Republic: The Czerka Crisis
« on: December 10, 2011, 04:41:00 PM »
This is a story I wrote about what my characters (and my brothers' characters) will be in The Old Republic. Me: Jaysen, Prudii, Methic. My brothers: Degan, Tori Deltablaster, Teran.


A blaster bolt whizzed by Prudii’s head, nearly taking the spotlight lamp off his helmet. He managed to turn and hide behind a chunk of rubble, barely dodging another hail of blaster bolts.
     “Republic scum!” called a voice. “Surrender!”
     How had this op gone so wrong? Prudii wondered. It had been a quick in-and-out, a short demolitions mission. He could’ve planted the bomb, gotten out, and detonated it, leaving the Separatist city without energy for weeks–enough time for the Republic to launch an attack.
     But they’d been waiting.
     Prudii didn’t really want to be here, in the center of a small-faction war on a smaller planet. With the war against the Sith Empire going on, he could’ve been on any number of big-name missions. But instead he was stuck here, shooting insurgents instead of Sith soldiers.
     “I’ll give you three seconds!” called the insurgent.
     These guys were just guerrilla forces, self-trained. Any academy recruit could’ve taken them out. But he, Prudii, was hiding behind rubble. Squeezing his blaster rifle, he prepared to respond.
     “Two seconds!”
     “No chance!” Prudii called.
     He leapt from the rubble and fired his rifle. Three rapid shots caught the leader in the chest, and he staggered. Prudii fired the rifle’s grenade launcher attachment, and two of the insurgents toppled. That left two more.
     Launching himself at one, he slammed the stock of his rifle into the Duros’ soft head. The alien crumpled. One more. Prudii turned and shot the human; a clean, single shot to the head.
     “That aught to do it.”
     Prudii looked down and saw the leader stagger to his feet. He’d been wearing an armored vest. Prudii slung his rifle over his back, grabbed the guy, and slapped a pair of stun cuffs on him.
     “Up,” Prudii ordered.
     He stripped the man of his vest and weapons, and then shoved him to the ground. The man started to protest, so Prudii shoved the muzzle of his sidearm into the man’s chin. He shut up.
     “Base, this is Prudii,” the soldier said into his comlink. “Ready for pickup.”
     “Understood, Sergeant,” replied the man at the other end. “What took so long?”
     Prudii hesitated. “Best I tell you in person.”

« Last Edit: December 16, 2011, 01:37:32 PM by ARC_Commander_Colt »

RIP: O'Niner, Droidbait, Nub, Cutup, Hevy, and Echo, the members of the Rishi Moon watch team. May Fives live on.

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Re: Star Wars: The Old Republic: The Czerka Crisis
« Reply #1 on: December 10, 2011, 04:47:11 PM »
Good, so far.


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Re: Star Wars: The Old Republic: The Czerka Crisis
« Reply #2 on: December 10, 2011, 04:58:40 PM »

RIP: O'Niner, Droidbait, Nub, Cutup, Hevy, and Echo, the members of the Rishi Moon watch team. May Fives live on.


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Re: Star Wars: The Old Republic: The Czerka Crisis
« Reply #3 on: December 11, 2011, 03:34:37 PM »
Chapter 1

Republic Headquarters
0700 hours

Freshly showered, Prudii put on his off-duty fatigues and stowed his armor under his bunk. His days as a Mandalorian had taught him that he should always keep his armor in a locked box, lest someone try to steal it. He strapped his E9 blaster pistol in its holster and headed for the command center.
     As he walked the halls of the headquarters, he thought more about the war–and what he’d be doing to participate in it. He wished he were on one of the planets where the war was being acted out in force–anywhere but here on Jabiim. He’d been in Havoc Squad for months now, but so far he’d been fighting small skirmishes against insurgents on places like Ord Mantell and Jabiim.
     As he approached the command center, the Republic’s commanding officer on Jabiim, Narlock–a Mon Calamari–turned to greet him. Narlock was no Harron Tavus–Prudii’s CO on Ord Mantell–but he was a good soldier.
     “Ah, Sergeant Prudii,” said Narlock.
     “Welcome back. I am told you had a hard time on your assignment.”
     “Sir, they were waiting for me. I believe–”
     “There’s a spy here?” Narlock grinned his fish grin. “We know.”
     Prudii frowned. “I’m afraid I don’t understand. Sir.”
     “We have him under surveillance, and we’re feeding him false information.”
     “So…my mission was fake?”
     “Correct. Half a dozen other Separatist locations were taken out last night.”
     Prudii exhaled. He didn’t like being tricked, but if it got victories for the Republic, he was willing to make sacrifices. He saluted.
     “Glad to be of service, sir.”
     “And you will continue to be. Dismissed.”
     “Thank you, sir!”
     Prudii turned and walked out.

Jedi Knight Jaysen Holt sat patiently through the meeting–and the follow-up meeting. But now he was getting impatient. Politicians. What was one to do with them? Scowling, he stood and walked out of the room. Orgus Din, Jaysen’s former Master, saw him leave but did not follow. One Jedi had to be there.
     Outside, Jaysen watched Coruscant’s bustling traffic go back and forth, back and forth. Almost like the conversation between the Senators, he mused. He rubbed his eyes and reached out with the Force. So much darkness out there…and he was here, listening to two Senators debate over some matter of payment!
     He turned. Orgus had left the room, and the two Senators were making rapid steps out of the building. Jaysen raised an eyebrow at Orgus, who shrugged in a ‘who-me?’ gesture.
     “You have a way with words,” Jaysen said.
     “Yes,” Orgus replied. “As do you.”
     “Me? No, I’m a fighter, not a speaker.”
     “I once said the same thing.”
     Jaysen smiled and turned to leave the Senate building. Orgus fell into step beside him. They spoke of trivial matters all the way back to their speeder. With Orgus driving, Jaysen knew that they would be passing by the remains of the old Jedi Temple. It was a sight Jaysen never liked seeing.
     As they passed over the rubble, Jaysen sighed. He wished he’d been there, the day Ven Zallow and many good Jedi Knights had died. But he’d been a Padawan, off on some quest with a group of other Padawans. He wanted so badly to go back and warn the expedition’s chaperone, a Miraluka Jedi Master, of the danger. Maybe things would go differently.
     But he couldn’t.
     And then the skycar had passed over the rubble, and the memories were gone. Jaysen released the breath he hadn’t realized he was holding and opened his eyes. He noticed that Orgus’ eyes seemed dimmed by tears.
     “Master? Are you all right?”
     “Oh…of course, Jaysen. And I’ve told you: call me Orgus.”
     “Of course, M–uh, Orgus.”
     Jaysen reached into his tunic as his comlink beeped.
     “Yes?” he said.
     “General Holt,” said a voice. “We have an assignment for you.”
     “Wow, that was fast,” he muttered.

Darth Angral snarled his hatred into his caf. He hated sitting here waiting, but the Dark Council had been adamant–he was to come to this backwater planet, Klatooine, and regulate the blockade.
     “Fool,” he said. “You are single-minded in your pursuit of money.”
     “And you,” replied Overseer Krah’kmah, “are single-minded in your hatred of Jedi.”
     Not many people would have dared to speak to Angral in such a manner…but then; he had not had many dealings with Hutts. And Krah’kmah probably felt safe due to the huge Houk bodyguards behind him. Angral grinned an evil grin. He could’ve snapped both of the bodyguards’ necks without a second thought.
     Krah’kmah searched Angral with his eyes, probably disturbed by the grin. Yes, you slug, think those disgusting thoughts of yours, Angral thought. You cannot possibly decipher what I am thinking. He straightened.
     Out loud, he said, “Has the blockade been set in order?”
     “Yes, Lord Angral,” replied Krah’kmah. “I am about to send the interdictor ships their final orders.”
     “Good. Do so.”
     And while he did, Angral would formulate a plan.

RIP: O'Niner, Droidbait, Nub, Cutup, Hevy, and Echo, the members of the Rishi Moon watch team. May Fives live on.


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Re: Star Wars: The Old Republic: The Czerka Crisis
« Reply #4 on: December 12, 2011, 01:55:16 PM »
Chapter 2

Republic Space
Cruiser Heart of the Republic
1200 hours

Jaysen exited his ship and clipped his lightsaber to his belt. Orgus followed him, a small smile on his face. Jaysen knew why. On all previous missions such as this, Orgus had been in the lead, Jaysen standing to the side. Now, it was the other way around.
     “Greetings, Jedi Holt,” said Heart of the Republic’s commander. “Welcome aboard.”
     “Thank you, commander. I was told there was a situation?”
     “Yes, sir. On Klatooine.”
     “Klatooine? Wait. The war hasn’t touched Klatooine.”
     The commander hesitated. “Um, it’s not the war, sir.”
     Jaysen nearly flipped. “What?”
     “Czerka Corporation has put a trade blockade around Klatooine.”
     “And they chose me, why?”
     Orgus put his hand on Jaysen’s shoulder, and Jaysen sensed calm flowing through him. He shot Orgus a grateful glance and turned back to the commander, who was a Rodian.
     “Your name came up sir. And…one other.”
     Jaysen watched as another ship landed in the hangar. A moment later, the ship’s hatch opened, and a female Twi’lek with yellow skin stepped out. He found himself shaking his head.
     “What are the odds?” he muttered. “Degan!”
     Degan and Jaysen had been together on the class quest when the Jedi Temple had been sacked. They’d been great friends for years. The war had effectively split them up, but Jaysen still felt as if they’d just parted yesterday.
     “Jaysen!” she replied.
     He walked over and shook her hand. Orgus watched from behind them. As they went back to discuss the situation, Jaysen spoke quietly to Degan.
     “How’ve you been?” he asked.
     “Good,” she replied. “But we’ll talk about that later.”
     He nodded and returned to Orgus’ side as the Rodian resumed talking.
     “We have reason to believe the Empire may be behind the blockade,” the commander said. “We want you to negotiate a treaty, and make sure the Sith aren’t there.”
     “Understood,” Jaysen replied.

Prudii was at the shooting range, firing training rounds from his rifle when an ensign approached him, waiting respectfully a few feet away while Prudii finished firing. When he was done, Prudii slung his rifle over his back and turning to the ensign.
     A young human female, she had short blond hair cropped to fit in a helmet, which she held at her side. Her armor had the blue markings of Narlock’s battalion.
     “Yes?” he asked.
     “Sergeant,” she said. “Commander Narlock requests your presence.”
     “Understood. Thank you.”
     “You’re welcome, sir.”
     As she walked away, Prudii spared a quick glance at the sky. Days without rain on the planet Jabiim were as rare as a bounty hunter with a conscience. Still, it appeared the sky would be loosing no drops today.
     Walking into the command center, Prudii stood at a respectful distance while Narlock conversed over the comlink. When he shut down the link, Prudii approached.
     “Ah, Sergeant Prudii,” Narlock greeted. “We have an assignment for you. Off world.”
     Prudii grinned. “Very good, sir.”
     “You will be in command of the military escort for the Jedi ambassadors to the world of Klatooine.”
     Prudii frowned. He didn’t know of any campaigns on or near Klatooine.
     “Perhaps you’d better bring me up to speed, sir.”
     “Of course.” Narlock activated a hologram of Klatooine. “Czerka has inexplicably started a trade blockade over Klatooine, cutting off all supplies to and from the planet. They have given no reason for doing such a thing, but we fear the Sith Empire may be behind it.”
     On the hologram, a small fleet of Czerka Corp. ships appeared around Klatooine. Prudii studied the map for a moment, easily picking out the command ship, which had a peculiar logo on the side.
     “What’s that insignia, sir?” he asked.
     “That,” replied Narlock, “is the personal insignia of Overlord Krah’kmah the Hutt.”
     “Hutts,” muttered Prudii.
     “Affirmative,” Narlock agreed.

Jaysen boarded the Consular ship Vigilance and sat in the starboard passenger seat. The pilot, a Kel-Dor female, and the copilot, a Mirialan male, entered the cockpit and started the engines. Orgus and Degan were settling in their separate quarters. Jaysen figured he’d have time for that later.
     He stood and headed for the cargo hold. There, he laid his outer cloak on top of a box and activated his lightsaber. His obedient astromech, T7-O1, activated training remotes, and Jaysen began his exercises. He had been doing this for some time, deflecting bolts from two and sometimes three remotes, when he became aware of presences behind him.
     Speaking the command code to deactivate the remotes, he turned off his lightsaber and faced the door. Degan and Orgus stood there, watching him.
     “What?” he asked.
     Orgus stepped forward, and ignited his own weapon. Jaysen grinned. He knew Degan would be in for a show. Reactivating his saber, Jaysen stepped to the center of the cargo hold, saluted Orgus, and lunged.
     How long the duel went on, Jaysen couldn’t say. He was only aware of the two blue lightsabers clashing together time and again, blades sizzling as they remained in contact for seconds before the duelists broke off and came in for another strike. Several times he narrowly missed Orgus’ arm, or Orgus his.
     When the duel finally came to the end, Jaysen was soaked with sweat, and he could see that Orgus was, too. Degan clapped theatrically, and Jaysen suddenly realized that several other beings had joined her in watching. One was a Trandoshan with some kind of implant over his left eye, and the other two seemed to be smugglers, one a Twi’lek, the other a Wookiee.
     “I believe introductions are in order,” Orgus said.
     “I am Qyzen Fess,” the Trandoshan said.
     “Name’s Teran,” the Twi’lek said. “And the big guy’s Bowdaar.”
     “Greetings,” Jaysen replied. “I am Jaysen Holt, and this is my former Master, Orgus Din. I’m glad to meet you.”
     “Greetings,” hissed Fess.
     “Attention,” the Kel-Dor pilot called. “We have arrived at Jabiim.”

Darth Angral watched impassively as the Czerka ships blew a freelance cargo ship from the sky. Krah’kmah was shouting into the comlink. Though Angral pretended that he did not know Huttese, he was more intelligent than his impressive figure indicated.
     “That will teach you!” the giant Hutt roared. “Send one more ship off-planet, and we will invade!”
     “Apologies,” the Klatooinian on the comlink replied. “We will send no more.”
     “You better believe it!”
     Krah’kmah deactivated the link and turned to Angral.
     “Peasants!” he hissed in Basic.
     “I know what you mean,” Angral replied.
     He glanced knowingly at a Sith Warrior standing on the other side of the bridge. The warrior nodded and backed into the shadows. Angral turned to Krah’kmah.
     “I must depart,” he said.
     “B-but why?”
     “I am required elsewhere. I will leave a garrison here, along with a Sith Warrior. You will do as he orders.”
     Krah’kmah seemed outraged. “Yes, Lord Angral,” he said.

RIP: O'Niner, Droidbait, Nub, Cutup, Hevy, and Echo, the members of the Rishi Moon watch team. May Fives live on.


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Re: Star Wars: The Old Republic: The Czerka Crisis
« Reply #5 on: December 13, 2011, 12:08:11 PM »
Chapter 3

Space over Jabiim
Consular ship Vigilance
2200 hours

Prudii scanned the Jedi approvingly. Wearing heavy armor under robes, he was a human male in his late twenties. His companion, a female Twi’lek, did not appear to be wearing any armor, but her robes were probably thick enough to turn blaster bolts. The third Jedi, Master Orgus Din, was famed throughout the Republic.
     “Sir!” Prudii said. “Sergeant Prudii reporting for duty, sir!”
     “I am General Jaysen Holt,” the Jedi replied. “Who are your squadmates?”
     “Corporal Tanno Vik,” Prudii said.
     Vik was a leathery-skinned Weequay, with a no-nonsense attitude and armor only a bit lighter than Prudii’s. His blaster rifle was slung across his back.
     “Corporal Vik reporting for duty, sir!” the Weequay said in badly accented Basic.
     “Private Squirt,” Prudii said.
     “Why do they call him…?” Jaysen started. “Oh.”
     When people said a soldier was standing ramrod-straight, it usually referred to their posture. But in Squirt’s case, it was literal. Although about average height for a human, he was extremely thin, to the point of being wiry. It looked like his helmet hardly fit his head.
     “Sir!” Squirt spoke up. “Reporting for duty!”
     “Uh…thank you, Private.”
     “And Private Biggs Rider,” Prudii finished.
     “Private Rider reporting for duty, sir!”
     “Good to meet you all,” Jaysen said. “If you’ll follow me?”
     He led them down the corridor toward the briefing room. Prudii studied him with the trained eyes of a soldier. He was clearly not a negotiator. Ever step was confident, and he always kept his right hand hovering over his lightsaber. Prudii approved.
     Suddenly, Jaysen dropped back to Prudii’s side.
     “Is that a hint of a Mandalorian accent I detect?”
     Prudii froze.

Jaysen studied the sergeant’s face for a moment. He seemed shocked. Jaysen hadn’t meant to disturb him, he had merely been curious.
     “Sir?” Prudii replied. “I don’t have an accent.”
     “I know. But I think I detect a hint of something in your speech…sounds similar to the accent of Mandalorians I’ve spoken to in days past.”
     Prudii glanced around. “All right! I was a Mandalorian! But when they started hiring out to the Sith Empire, I dropped out. I worked as a freelancer for almost five years, until the Mandalorians left the Empire…except for some, like that witch, Vizla. Anyway, I joined the Republic then.”
     “I’m not critical of Mandalorians,” Jaysen said. “Relax, we can still be friends.”
     Prudii raised an eyebrow, nodded, and walked ahead. Jaysen watched him walk, and then headed for the front of the briefing room. He faced the troopers, Qyzen Fess, Teran, and Bowdaar. Degan and Orgus stood behind him near the holoprojector.
     “This is an image of the primary Czerka command ship,” Jaysen said. “While Master Orgus and I–as well as our trooper escort–speak with the ship commander, Degan will lead the rest of you–” he motioned to Fess, Teran, and Bowdaar. “–To search the ship. If you find anything suggesting the Sith Empire may be involved, get that information to me–and then start blowing up everything.”
     “At least part of this’ll be fun,” Biggs Rider said.
     “Quiet,” snapped Prudii.
     “Remember,” Jaysen said, “there are other ships around Klatooine, though they are less likely to have Sith aboard. The key is the command ship.”
     “Any questions?” asked Orgus.
     “No, sir!” the troopers said.
     “Dismissed,” Jaysen finished.

Prudii slung his green-marked helmet over his head as he left the command center. How had the Jedi detected traces of Mando’a in his accent? He’d thought he’d been able to get rid of it. In fact, he’d gotten so used to it, he’d almost forgot he’d had it at one point. But the Jedi had been able to detect it.
     Well, he did have those powers…
     Prudii entered his small cabin and tossed his rifle onto the bed. He removed his helmet and armor, moved to the ‘fresher, and started up the shower. After weeks on Jabiim, he felt the need to shower for a month. Unfortunately, this frigate probably didn’t have that much water.
     As he took off the plates of his armor, he thought back to his days as a Mandalorian. He hadn’t ever wanted to drag up those memories, ever again. They were just full of pain. But he had nothing but time to think here…

Prudii watched, horrified, as the building went up in flames. The Empire! He’d thought Mand’alor had made an agreement with them! But apparently, the Emperor didn’t think that agreement stretched to Concordia.
     Though Prudii had been born on Mandalore, he had moved to Concordia after turning eighteen. There, he’d met the woman he’d married, and settled down. Though he still worked as a mercenary, and more importantly, a Mandalorian, he’d spent most of his time with his growing family.
     Now, he saw that the Sith Empire could not be trusted, could never have been. As his house was burned to the ground and he was forced to watch by the two Imperial soldiers holding his arms, he realized that this had been the Emperor’s plan all along.
     He broke free from the soldiers and snapped the first one’s neck. Then, he snatched the sidearm from the dead trooper’s holster and blasted the second twice, first in the leg and then in the neck. The trooper dropped.
     He tried to run back to his home, but his legs gave out. With no hope of saving his family, he shouted his rage to the orbiting strike cruisers.
     Weeks later, he’d returned to the world of Mandalore, landing in the capital city, Keldabe. He headed for the Mand’alor’s home. He knocked on the door twice before the dark-skinned man opened the door.
     “Prudii?” Mandalore asked.
     “Please, we need to talk, Mand’alor,” Prudii replied.
     Prudii had been one of Mandalore’s most trusted bodyguards before he’d turned eighteen. When he had gone to Concordia, Mandalore had been disappointed, but had not argued. He, more than most, knew that Mandalorians should have free choice. 
     “Surely you must see, now,” he said, “that the Empire cannot be trusted.”
     “I am sorry, Prudii,” Mandalore said. “But we must help the Emperor. He is our only hope of survival. The Republic cannot match the Empire’s force. The Sith Lords will win this war.”
     “But they slaughtered countless of our people!” Prudii exclaimed. “They attacked the settlements on Concordia!”
     “I truly am sorry, my friend.”
     Prudii sighed. He’d feared this.
     “Then so am I,” he said. “I cannot serve alongside the people who slaughtered my family. I will be leaving this world. I am going to begin work as a freelance mercenary. I will not stand in your way, nor will I help you. Goodbye, Mand’alor.”

Prudii shook his head, the memories still painful. Years later, he’d heard that Mandalore had been killed, and a new leader had taken his place. The new Mandalore had declared the clans neutral.

Prudii watched the transmission, feeling sadness at the death of Mand’alor. He had held no animosity toward the man. He’d simply taken the best possible job. Only now, at his death, did the clans have a new chance at freedom.
     But he would not return to the homeworld. This new Mand’alor had begun some kind of strange game, in which the Mandalorians would compete for the title of Mand’alor. Prudii found this a disgusting perversion of the Mandalorian tradition.
     About that time, he was on Nar Shaddaa, when he saw a group of men being assaulted by two armored beings. Deciding to intervene, he’d fired on the two armored beings. Instead of returning fire, they’d turned and fled. Helping the two men up, Prudii had asked if they were okay.
     “Yes,” replied one.
     “Why did they attack you?” Prudii asked.
     “They were Imperial agents,” replied the second man. “We’re Republic officers.”
     Prudii instinctively reached for his blaster before realizing that he’d left his armor in his apartment. These men couldn’t have possibly known he was Mandalorian, since he had taken pains to learn how to speak without the traditional accent of Mandalorians.
     “You know what?” Prudii said, a sudden idea hitting him, “I’m looking to join up.”
     “Really?” the first asked. “Good, you’ve got some skill with a blaster. We could use a guy like you, especially one with such good morals as to help two people under attack by more heavily-armored men than yourself.”

Just a week later, Prudii had found himself on Ord Mantell, fighting separatists. He’d met Commander Harron Tavus, helped squash the rebels, and from there had gone on to many smaller engagements such as Jabiim. Ord Mantell had been six months ago.
     Sighing, Prudii turned off the water and dressed quickly. They’d reach Klatooine soon, and he was eager to get this mission over with.

Lord Methic, a Sith Warrior, stood in the bridge’s shadows and watched as the large Hutt talked to Kina Deltablaster, the Imperial agent assigned to be the formal face of the Sith Empire on this assignment. Since Angral had left, Methic had been forced to deal with the Hutt in private quite often, something he found repulsing.
     “When the Republic arrives–” Deltablaster was saying, “and they will–you will let them aboard. Act as if we are not here–because we won’t be, at least not visibly. You will not give them reason to think that any Sith or Imperials are aboard, and you will not give us up.”
     “I understand,” Krah’kmah replied.
     “You had better,” Deltablaster replied. “If not–I let Methic work his magic.”
     Methic touched his lightsaber knowingly and grinned. He looked forward to gutting the blob of fat. But there would be time for that later. The Jedi would be arriving soon.

RIP: O'Niner, Droidbait, Nub, Cutup, Hevy, and Echo, the members of the Rishi Moon watch team. May Fives live on.


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Re: Star Wars: The Old Republic: The Czerka Crisis
« Reply #6 on: December 14, 2011, 12:06:58 PM »
Chapter 4

Klatooine Space
Consular ship Vigilance
0700 hours

Jaysen watched the Hutt’s expression. He could not read a Hutt’s expression well enough to know if he was nervous, angry, or even disappointed.
     “Of course, you may come aboard!” the Hutt said. “After all, Czerka is a perfectly legal enterprise.”
     “Thank you.”
     As the comlink was deactivated, Jaysen snorted. When Hutts were concerned, nothing was “perfectly legal.” Prudii apparently held the same opinion, judged by the face he was making.
     “All right, men,” Jaysen said. “Armor on, and let’s go. Degan, Teran, Bowdaar, Qyzen, get ready to move as soon as we clear the hangar.”
     “Yes, sir!” Teran said sarcastically.
     “Shut up,” Degan muttered.
     Qyzen hissed an agreement, and Bowdaar chuckled.

Kina Deltablaster watched from the rafters as the Republic ship landed. Using the scope of her rifle, she saw the Jedi disembark: two human males, one of which was Orgus Din. She continued to watch as the four troopers followed. Each trooper wore matching green armor, though the squad leader had a different helmet than the rest, and the Weequay did not wear a helmet.
     “Kina to Methic,” she said. “Targets identified. One is Orgus Din.”
     She heard Methic snarl and grinned behind her stealth suit’s mask. He had obviously heard of Din. But he didn’t say anything.
     “Understood,” he finally snarled out. “Keep in touch.”
     Kina stood and crept across the rafters until she was directly above the Jedi. After the greeter droid led the Jedi out of the hangar, she jumped to the ground and followed, the suit making her all but invisible.

Qyzen Fess hissed as Degan used the Force to make him–as well as herself–invisible. He could still see himself, but when he raised the issue to Degan, she insisted that no one was going to see them, hear them, or detect them.
     Teran and Bowdaar made use of a stealth generator. The two groups split up, Bowdaar and Teran taking the lower decks and Qyzen and Degan taking the upper decks. They were kept in constant communication through ear-bud comlinks.
     “Found something,” Teran said suddenly.
     Qyzen gripped his rifle and started to head for the lift. He saw Degan do the same.
     “Under fire!” Teran said.
     Bowdaar growled something. I think it’s confirmed, Qyzen thought.

* * *

Prudii watched as the Hutt talked with the Jedi, and he fought against twiddling his thumbs. As a sergeant, it wouldn’t be good to show boredom in front of his troops.
     “Sergeant!” Qyzen Fess said over the comlink. “We’ve got contacts!”
     “Jaysen!” Prudii called.
     He raised his blaster and aimed it at the Hutt. Biggs, Squirt, and Tanno Vik had their blaster rifles out in seconds. Jaysen and Orgus activated their lightsabers, and the group quickly removed all weapons from the bridge crew.
     “Al right,” Jaysen said. “Where are the Sith?”
     “I-I don’t know!” the Hutt insisted.
     “I suggest you tell us now,” Orgus said. “We do have right to arrest you on charges of helping enemies of the Republic.”
     “All right!” the Hutt said. “They’re–”
     Suddenly, a blaster bolt flew across the room and pierced the Hutt’s thick hide. Prudii whirled and saw a female human in a black stealth suit, rifle raised. She pressed a button on her belt and disappeared.
     “Troopers!” Prudii said. “Switch to infrared!”
     He flipped his visor on and swept his gaze around the room. He saw her on the second sweep. She leapt into the ventilation duct. Prudii got two shots off before she crawled in. Turning, he looked to the Hutt.
     “Dead,” Jaysen confirmed. “Troopers, find Degan!”
     “Yes, sir!”

Degan barely managed to block a blow from the large Sith Warrior who had leapt from the room. She raised her saber and blocked another blow, but the warrior was too strong for her. She knew he would quickly overpower her.
     Two engagements later, it happened. He spun his lightsaber in a feint, brought it back around, and swept the lightsaber from her grasp. He kicked her to the ground. She used the Force to blow him back two steps, but she didn’t have time to mount a larger assault. She knew she was as good as dead.

Methic raised his lightsaber for the killing blow. The Twi’lek Jedi obviously specialized more in Force usage than lightsaber combat. Pity she didn’t use the dark side. She might actually have been a challenge then.
     Suddenly, he heard a feral rasp, and a Trandoshan leapt across the room, long dagger raised. Methic easily dealt with the alien, one swing of his saber cutting the blade in half and another removing his arms.
     “Qyzen!” the Twi’lek shouted.
     Methic snarled. In the time it had taken him to amputate both arms, she had managed to use the Force to pull her lightsaber back. Now, she reactivated it.
     “Let’s dance,” Methic snarled.

* * *
Jaysen was about to pursue the Imperial agent that had escaped through the vents when the bridge door blew down. Before the dust had cleared, five Imperial troopers had fired on them. Jaysen blocked the blaster bolts, but he knew that with the troopers gone, only he and Orgus would be able to defend the bridge.
     Reflected bolts killed two troopers. Jaysen leapt across the room and stabbed another. Orgus hurled his lightsaber, and the arcing blade killed another trooper. The last one rallied another squad to him. The two Jedi managed to hold off these ones, too.
     “Won’t be able to hold much longer!” Orgus said.
     Jaysen agreed silently, amputating the right arm of another trooper. The trooper fell to the ground, clutching the stump. More blaster bolts whizzed by, only to be deflected. But Jaysen knew it was only a matter of time until–
     Suddenly, a Zabrak wielding a double-bladed lightsaber leapt through the room. A Sith Inquisitor! Jaysen blocked blows from the lightsaber, eager to be fighting someone of equal skill. The Zabrak’s lightsaber whirled, chopped, and stabbed, and each time it was parried by Jaysen’s blue-bladed weapon.
     Then, when their lightsabers were locked together, the inquisitor fired a bolt of purple lightning. The bolt shot across the room and hit the control panel.

Kina felt the ship shudder and knew it was going down. She was headed for her personal escape ship when a blaster bolt whizzed overhead. She whirled and fired back, and she saw her bolt slam into the trooper’s chest. He gave a pained cry and collapsed.
     Home free, Kina leapt into her ship and started the engine. As the sleek fighter took off, she fired the ship’s cannons at the consular ship. She saw it explode, but was unsure if the pilots were inside or not. It didn’t matter.
     She was free.

Methic would have taken the Twi’lek’s head off had the ship not suddenly rocked. He knew what had happened. His companion, a Zabrak inquisitor, had been ordered to send the ship on a crash course for the biggest Klatooinian city if the Jedi discovered them.
     Figuring the Jedi would die anyway, Methic Force-pushed the Twi’lek and ran for the escape pods. He knew Kina Deltablaster would already be off the ship, and that she would pick him up. That was the plan, anyway.
     Bounding down the corridor, Methic knew the plan would yet be a success.

Degan crawled to Qyzen’s side. Both his arms had been removed at the elbows. She knew he’d need prosthetics.
     “Qyzen!” she said. “Wake up!”
     “I’m fine,” Qyzen sputtered. “My species can regenerate limbs.”
     “That’s a relief,” Degan replied.
     “Hey!” someone called. “Degan!”
     Teran and Bowdaar charged down the corridor, weapons in hand. Bowdaar grabbed Qyzen and threw him over his shoulder, leading the way to the bridge. Degan used the Force to augment the entire group’s speed.
     “We have to hurry!” she said.

RIP: O'Niner, Droidbait, Nub, Cutup, Hevy, and Echo, the members of the Rishi Moon watch team. May Fives live on.


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Re: Star Wars: The Old Republic: The Czerka Crisis
« Reply #7 on: December 15, 2011, 05:48:58 PM »
Chapter 5

Klatooine orbit
Czerka command ship
1100 hours

Jaysen impaled the Zabrak, and the alien winced in pain. He fell to his knees, dropped his lightsaber, and collapsed. Jaysen quickly moved to the ship’s controls. They were still usable, but unfortunately, he didn’t know how to fly a ship like this.
     “Master!” he called.
     Orgus ran over and inspected the controls.
     “We need to get the troopers in here,” Orgus said.
     “Right here,” Prudii called.
     He ran in the door with Squirt and Tanno. Jaysen frowned.
     “Where’s Biggs?” he asked.
     “Dead,” Prudii muttered. “Shot by the agent.”
     “I’m sorry,” Jaysen replied.
     “No time for that now,” Prudii said. “What’s the situation?”
     Before Jaysen could answer, Degan ran into the bridge, followed by Teran. A moment later, Bowdaar followed, carrying an armless Qyzen. Jaysen’s eyes widened at the sight of an armless Trandoshan, but he kept quiet.
     “We need someone to fly this ship,” Jaysen said. “We’re on a crash course with the biggest city on Klatooine. Millions could die. And while we’re at it, it might be a good time to contact the rest of the blockade and tell them to break off.”
     “I can’t fly this type of ship,” Prudii said.
     “Me either.” This came from Tanno.
     “Excuse me,” a small voice interrupted. “I can.”
     All eyes turned to Squirt.
     “Okay,” Jaysen said. “Get to it. Degan, you contact the other Czerka ships and tell them the blockade is over. Everyone else, strap yourselves in. This is going to be a rough landing.”

Qyzen swam in and out of consciousness, but from what he could tell when he was awake, he was strapped into a crash chair on the bridge of the Czerka command ship. He knew the Sith Warrior had amputated his arms, but that was the least of his worries.
     He was pretty sure they were going to crash.
     Wishing he could grip the arms of his chair, Qyzen braced himself as well as he could as the ship hit atmosphere. He tried to glance at the pilot seat in hopes of seeing who was landing the ship.
     It was the skinny human.

Prudii held on to his seat as Squirt twisted the controls, maneuvering the ship away from the city. They had checked the hangar before returning to the bridge, and found their ship destroyed. The pilots had been wounded, so Tanno had taken them to the medical bay and left them there, in hopes that the medic droids would be able to treat them.
     “Here we go,” Squirt said.
     Prudii turned his head and saw Degan speaking frantically over the comlink. He turned his attention to the scanners and saw some Czerka ships beginning to leave, but others stayed where they were. Prudii assumed that they wouldn’t leave until given an order from the Hutt.
     Given that he was dead, that would be a problem.

Jaysen’s teeth rattled as they passed through the first layer of atmosphere. He hoped Squirt could land the ship in one piece, or they’d be in serious trouble. If only they could have killed the engines! But the inquisitor had fried the engine controls with his lightning, leaving only minimal navigation. If they hit the city–
     No, he couldn’t think about that. He glanced over at Orgus, who had his jaw set firmly. Jaysen guessed he didn’t like crashes. Well, Jaysen wasn’t fond of them either.
     “No!” Degan shouted. “You may not speak to Lord Krah’kmah! He was killed!”
     Jaysen rolled his eyes. If this situation weren’t rectified soon, there would be nothing he or his companions could do. They couldn’t very well stop a blockade from the surface.
     “Thank you!” Degan finally said.
     He glanced at her. “They’ve agreed to leave?”
     “Given the death of their chief,” Degan said, “they have no reason to remain here with no orders. They will return to their headquarters.”
     “That’s a relief.”
     “Hitting the ground in sixty seconds!” Squirt called.
     Degan quickly strapped in. Jaysen reached out with the Force and tried to cushion the ship, but it was simply too large. Too large–

RIP: O'Niner, Droidbait, Nub, Cutup, Hevy, and Echo, the members of the Rishi Moon watch team. May Fives live on.


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Re: Star Wars: The Old Republic: The Czerka Crisis
« Reply #8 on: December 16, 2011, 01:36:58 PM »

Klatooine surface
Outer desert
1145 hours

Jaysen felt himself awakening. He looked around. Everyone else seemed to be all right, with only a few bumps and bruises. He quickly pressed the release button on his restraints and dropped from his crash seat. Prudii was the next to awaken. The two of them went around the ship and woke the rest of their allies.
     “We’d better get the pilots out of the medical bay,” Tanno Vik muttered.
     “Right,” Jaysen replied. “But first thing’s first.”
     He used his lightsaber to cut open the front viewport and stepped out into the harsh sunlight of the desert. It looked like they’d missed the city by a kilometer. He hoped they hadn’t lost any large pieces, or those might crash into the city still.
     “Well,” Orgus muttered, “mission accomplished.”
     “Yeah,” Jaysen replied, rubbing his head.
     They looked at the sky. “Better call for evac. Prudii?”
     “Already on it, sir!” Prudii called.
     Good. Jaysen couldn’t help but wonder what their next mission would be.


RIP: O'Niner, Droidbait, Nub, Cutup, Hevy, and Echo, the members of the Rishi Moon watch team. May Fives live on.