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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Jul 28, 2019 18:19:15 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Jul 28, 2019 18:19:15 GMT -5
Nar Kaaga had surely seen better days.
Locke stood at the fore of the Jedi starship as it tore through the trade world’s atmosphere, near the pilot’s seat. He wore one of the Order’s armored suits, sleek silver, with his helmet under one of his arms. With his free hand he steadied himself against a bulkhead as the currents of Nar Kaaga’s upper atmosphere buffeted the ship.
From above he could see vast stretches of the world below coated in what looked like snow. It would have made sense--Nar Kaaga was a cold world, after all. But snow, in all the many places Locke had seen it, was never that strange shade of just barely-lavender white. Nor did most worlds feel as diseased as Nar Kaaga did, from up here.
Even the worst pits of the Dark Side didn’t carry this particular — this uniquely Archeri — taint in the Force.
“I don’t like this,” he said to his two Jedi companions. “Not one bit.” He turned to look at the pilot Cooper; the Jedi Seeker was new to Locke, but he seemed a decent companion on the journey thus far. Locke fought the urge to wince as he caught a glimpse of some mangled starship hull, now a husk of its former self drifting lifelessly in space. Violet crystal shards — those that weren’t jammed into the durasteel — drifted through space with it.
Xeer’o, he knew a little more, if only in the broadest of terms; it wouldn’t do to go into a job without knowing of a fellow Investigator.
The Jedi team was en route to a refugee camp on NarKaaga’s frigid surface, bearing medical supplies and what little assurances they could offer those trapped on the surface that everything would be alright. The mission was coordinated with a nonprofit relief organization working out of the Core, which would send in ships to get the refugees off-world and transferred to a more secure location closer to the Republic.
They would have to be quick; it was only by luck that the Archeri had crushed the world’s defenses and moved on, knowing those left below were firmly in their grasp.
“Then again, I haven’t liked any damn thing that’s happened since these jackasses showed up outta nowhere,” he grumbled.
Still, as the ship pierced the clouds and zipped toward the camp awaiting below, Locke couldn't shake the feeling that something was very, very wrong.
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last online Aug 19, 2019 11:02:17 GMT -5
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Jul 29, 2019 10:47:14 GMT -5
Post by rocky on Jul 29, 2019 10:47:14 GMT -5
I can't remember anything to this very day 'Cept the look, the lookOh, you know where -----------------------------------------
Xeer'o had been studying up on what it was that these so called 'Archeri' were. After everything that he had seen in his life, this was just another event that showed him how little they actually knew in the grand scheme of all of this. He listened to the sound of his Jedi comrade speaking about how he did not like what was going on. Unlike the others around him, he was wearing a sleeker outfit, armor covering his clavicle and arms as the rest was made of robes intertwined in a dark grey outfit. The Jedi Investigator had his hands behind his back, clasped together as the ship started to cut through the clouds of the planet and descend towards its destination. It was clear that this was not going to be a fun mission by any means of the imagination, especially when it had to do with a planet that had just been greeted by the newest scourge of the galaxy.
"You act as if anyone has liked anything that has happened since they showed up." he said with a smirk on his face, looking towards the outside view of the planet from the ship's cockpit. They were there for what was supposed to be a supply run, but everyone knew the reason they were assigned was because the odds of it becoming something more was too high.
----------------------------------------- Now, I can't see, I just stare
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Dutch
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Aug 4, 2019 15:10:18 GMT -5
Post by Dutch on Aug 4, 2019 15:10:18 GMT -5
With a bead of sweat and a white-knuckled grip upon the freighter’s controls, Cooper would ease the starship through Nar Kaaga’s atmosphere, awkwardly aware of how much heavier it was than his usual ride. He sighed unconsciously as his imagination took him back to Spinward Sally; the sweet little Sabre-class on a pair of duracrete blocks three systems away with her aft engine gutted completely, parts and tools alike scattered about in a pattern only Coop could decipher. The droplet of perspiration rolled down the side of the pilot’s face until it disappeared into six days worth of stubble. He could feel the heat across his skin from the atmosphere, the ship’s size difference compared to Sally painfully obvious. It was like flying a damned bantha, and so far had been his least favorite part of this mission, besides the fact that the Order had snagged him (again) after a fresh Duinuogwuin sighting.
His dark green eyes would glance at the pair of Investigators, the two strapping Jedi appearing almost god-like in their gleaming armor. It was luck, no, no, the Force, that brought him to the shining examples of Order masculinity, as their mission had needed the best pilot available, and Jedi Seeker Cooper Tallus was exactly that. Right place, right time. If he had at all wanted anything to do with the Archeri. Which he didn't. Frankly. They freaked Coop out. He didn't care much for mushrooms of any variety, as it were, let alone murderous mulch obsessed arachnid varieties. Just the thought caused Coop's stomach to turn over, the Jedi momentarily a very visible shade of green as he pictured holonet images released from Hutt space.
He urped, timed perfectly with a particularly rough bump, and shot a sheepish look back at the nearest investigator. But Locke seemed more concerned with the nearby derelict ship stuck in orbit. Grateful he didn't seem to notice, the Seeker let one hand off the controls to rub his abdomen. The word Juicy! emblazoned across the front of his shirt rippled with the motion, the bright green lettering the same as the sweet treat it advertised; Nubian Nips.
It was then that he noted the armor worn by each of the Investigators again, each seeming to be perfectly measured and arranged over their bodies… and his own shirt and trousers. Cooper's maroon duster hung over the back of the pilot’s seat, and the spacer boots upon the ship's floor controls made up the most “armor” owned by the Seeker. At least the Order had been sure their ship came with a full medical kit- rebreather mask included, which now sat in one of Coop's coat's many pockets. He heard the pair of Investigators make their comments, and his own addition would come delayed as he focused on bringing the bulky freighter lower towards their port.
"Yeah… I also don't like mushrooms…"
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Aug 8, 2019 13:02:08 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Aug 8, 2019 13:02:08 GMT -5
“Fair enough,” Locke muttered with a rueful grin. The Archeri had only brought suffering, even to those beyond their fungal reach as the plague spread and dragged the Galaxy to chaos. If it’s not one thing, it’s another. The years since the war with the Sith had only been enough time for wounds to begin healing; now the Archeri sought to tear open fresh ones, and who could say where that might lead?
“Can’t say I’ve ever been a fan either,” Locke said, more genuine mirth in his voice, to Cooper’s comment. “Texture thing, really. Never sat right with me.”
The land below was cold and hard--mountains stretched toward the sky like craggy, jagged fingers. Far away, just before the horizon bent the land out of view, rolling hills at the mountains’ feet flattened to tundra stretching off out of sight.
The camp lay in a narrow valley between two ridges, spread across the banks of a thin, frozen river.
“Masks on,” Locke said as the ship descended to a landing pad. He put on a helmet — it was part of his suit — but it got the point across. He waited for a quick hiss as the suit sealed and glanced at his two fellow Jedi. “If there are any spores around, or the wind carries any to the camp, you don’t want to breathe that shit in.”
As the ship settled down on the smaller of the camp’s two landing pads, Locke walked to the back, movements stiff as the suit’s servos kicked into gear. Medical supplies for the camp were arrayed--still neatly, more or less--in stacked crates in the cargo hold. Metallic boots stomping on metallic floor, Locke headed to a panel near the back wall and pressed it. The cargo ramp swung slowly out and down, and as stray snowflakes fluttered in from the outside, Locke found himself grateful for the suit’s thermal insulation.
He was surprised to see a thin man standing outside. He was old, with wisps of gray hair blowing in the wind from under his thick hood. Piercing green eyes stared up into the ship from over the breath mask covering nose and mouth.
“Ah yes, you must be the Jedi come to help us,” he said. He sounded tired--Locke could imagine sleep was hard to come by, these days. “I’m Director Termel. I’ll send hands to help with unloading your supplies.
“You have excellent timing. A refugee ship just entered the system and should be touching down shortly.” The director shuffled off, calling for men to come help get the crates of the ship.
Locke glanced over his shoulder to the other Jedi. He couldn’t put a finger to it, but he just couldn’t shake the feeling that something was awry.
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last online Aug 19, 2019 11:02:17 GMT -5
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Aug 14, 2019 15:40:45 GMT -5
Post by rocky on Aug 14, 2019 15:40:45 GMT -5
I can't remember anything to this very day 'Cept the look, the lookOh, you know where -----------------------------------------
"I don't think many like those either." he said with a bit of an awry grin as he stood there. If there was one thing about Xeer'o that made him stand out, it was likely his build. He was tall, and quite handsome. Did he look like a Jedi if it were not for his outfit? Likely not. His darker armor most definitely denoted his more official work. He was not under cover, he was there to serve as a representative of the Jedi.
He watched the pilot starting to descend with the freighter, his eyes looking to see their ship beginning to finally park. He was there on a mission, and unlike normal he had a team with him. The Kiffar was not used to having to rely on others, all he was used to having was himself. Sure, he had his former Master and he had worked with him during his entire time as a Padawan... but that was not the same. That was not a team. That was a partnership, they were almost two parts of a whole.
Finally now, they were arriving. The other investigator with him started to put on the breathing mask, and quickly he started to do the same. His hand went to put the mask down as he began to slowly walk towards the ramp. The Investigator hated welcome parties. It made it so that he was not in his element as it was on their terms not his. If Xeer'o knew anything, it was that there was always a warning sign to see. Always something to look into... and just like the other investigator, he had that gut feeling.
"Thank you, we've brought as much as the Republic could supply." There were many reasons they sent who they sent. Sure, they were carrier boys with the supplies, but they also were there to gather intelligence, report back and figure out what the state of the planet was after the Archeri events.
----------------------------------------- Now, I can't see, I just stare
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Dutch
Darth Awesome, Specialist at Everything
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Aug 19, 2019 16:56:49 GMT -5
Post by Dutch on Aug 19, 2019 16:56:49 GMT -5
Cooper had been fiddling with his mask since landing. Restlessly he checked and rechecked the seals, and often tapped the diagnostic feeds on his datapad which kept displaying him as a Bothan female. He shrugged his shoulders a bit broader unconsciously to shift his red leather duster to better sit on them, and huffed before he smacked the side of his datapad until it finally brought up the Human male baselines. So involved with his fidgeting he hardly noticed the hooded man nor the given greetings, still a few steps behind the others as he slid the datapad into a pocket before stepping off the landing ramp and onto Nar Kaaga.
From the first footfall, a sharp shiver would raise the hair from ankle to the top of his head and back down again, and a not-so-silent alarm went off in the back of his mind with ringing urgency. Locke looked left back at the Jedi Seeker, who made direct eye contact back with him before promptly turning on his heel and sprinting down the street away from their ship. His boots pounded duracrete as he ran, the Force billowing out from under his ribs with every exhale, literally lifting him lightly to ease his flight. He looked back at the two Investigators still standing there, a bewildered look in his eyes gleaming with disbelief.
“What are you doing!? RUN!” Coop hollered over his own shoulder back at them, waving an arm for them to catch up to where he was already a considerable distance away. His hand swung to point frantically above them, not even knowing why himself until his eyes followed to see the overwhelming fireball falling from the sky directly towards them. Cooper then noted the derelict ship they had passed was now absent. Or, more likely, was in fact about to flatten his two new friends. A sickening fall took his stomach, and the Jedi swallowed it before once again shouting ”RUN! RUUUUUN!”
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Rugs
The ring-dang-doo, now what is that?
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Sept 4, 2019 13:45:20 GMT -5
Post by Rugs on Sept 4, 2019 13:45:20 GMT -5
The way Locke saw it, this job could be easy--or easy as anything could be, with Archeri involved. Locke’s comrades emerged from the ship as some broad-shouldered men approached to take the supplies they’d brought and haul them off to the camp.
Yet no sooner had he looked at Cooper than he felt a shifting in the Force, a surge of worry and fear as the Jedi Seeker bolted away from the ship. Locke stared after him, brows knit. As the other Jedi yelled at them and pointed to the sky above, Locke turned his gaze skyward, only to feel his stomach drop and his mouth dry.
A flaming mass of debris was hurtling through the atmosphere, right at the camp. “Shit,” he muttered. With a backward glance at the ship, he turned and moved, yelling for Director Termel’s men to clear the area.
Suddenly the camp was a kicked hive, as people swarmed to get out of the way of the falling ship.
It crashed into the camp’s edge, near the landing pad, throwing up dirt and dust and melted snow turned to hissing steam.
“What’s the meaning of this?!” The Director came running, wisps of stray hair pointing this way and that from under his hood. He was fuming, at the Jedi, as if the sudden crash were their fault. “What happened?”
“I don’t know, Director,” Locke said calmly, “but this is not our doing.”
He peered at the burning wreckage. The ship’s hull seemed largely intact, through all the smoke. Locke could sense new beings that hadn’t been there a few moments earlier. Worst of all...
That’s an Archeri taint...
Locke swore again. “Director, listen to me carefully. Gather your people and get them as far away from this side of the camp as possible. Cooper, Xeer’o,” he looked to his fellow Jedi in turn, “I suspect this has just gotten a lot more complicated.”
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