Another Day, Another Data card

[\J|K/]

Taren watched the planet grow closer through he holoscreen. He knew they were getting close and his legs were aching. He needed time to stretch his legs and move freely.

Master Baumm, on the other hand, seemed to be the Datacard of calm. He had not seen him move during the extent of the trip, though he had spent most of the trip with the pilot learning about the ship.

Again reality caught his attention. What could have provoked the council and senate to send Jedi to Dantooine. From here the plane seemed so peaceful. But this was an illusion, he knew through history that Jedi were not sent often to peaceful planets.

There was something his Master was not telling him. He felt the jitter of the ship entering the atmosphere but he did not heed it. Baumm did not trust him. Could he trust his master?

Within the hour they were landed and unloaded on the planet. He had not spoken a word to Master Baumm and he would not until he was spoken to. For the moment he took in the landscape. The planet was virtually untouched by foreign trade and buildings. He had never seen a sight like this since he left his own homeworld.

Now it was time for Baumm to direct them. He was lost on this planet and needed guidance.

[Ma Ra Shen]

(( Open or closed? ))

Ma Ra Shen had had his face covered. By a strange mask that seemed to me an animal's face. His jedi's robe hood also covered his head. To conceal his identity, obviously he was training to become a Jedi Shadow, or jedi assassin. He had been with a group of other jedi, containing their welcoming committee. He had been with master Vandar, walking at his side to the docking bay. Ready to greet them. The small grouped of jedi walked out to the star-pad. As the ship landed. The jedi's came into a parade rest. With their hands behind their backs and firmly fixing their gaze at the star-ship entering the port. But Ma Ra couldn't help but keep his eyes fixed. On the exiting ramp of their ship.

[Jenno]

Master Baumm sighed as the ship made it's landing a few minutes earlier. He hadn't yet finished his datacard on the various ways that durasteel can be shaped when the exit ramp began to extend, beckoning he and his student to the grassy planet. He turned to Taren and raised his eyebrows (or, rather, made the same motion, as ortolans had no eyebrows.)

"I suppose you'll be wanting to go off and finish our work here?"

He asked, incredibly admonishingly, as he put away his reading materials and moved towards the exit ramp and left the confines of the transport, not once looking back to see if his padawan was following him or not.

Meenu Baumm left the ship and crossed to the main docking area, ignoring the few who were there to greet them, and turning to face the ship and where his student should be arriving any moment.

(Sure, I guess it can be open, cue Chris)

[\J|K/]

The student looked confused, "Master, what is our work here?" He tried not to sound hasty or impatient but he was. His master had barely taken notice of him during the trip.

"Please, talk to me! Tell me something, anything. If I am such a burden why did you not leave me at the temple and come alone?

He was suddenly boiling. His confusion turned to anger. Baumm seemed so preoccupied with anything, everything over his student. Why had he even taken him if he was just going to ignore him.

He tossed his cape into his pack and turned up again to face his master. If Baumm did not want him, then he would have to prove himself... one way or another. If Baumm let him go, it would be off to the farm land for him. So for now he settled his emotions and released them for they would only prevent him from preforming in a way that Baumm would approve.

[harborg]

Terreal entered the city and saw the transport land where he sensed a Jedi on. Terreal saw a couple people exit off the scuttle and saw what a appeared to be 3 Jedi. Terreal thought that this was great, they would die when the Dark Jedi take over this planet, but it also angered him. He would have to leave them alone, but he was going to follow them and see what they were assigned to. Terreal took a closer look of them and discovered one of the Jedi was Jedi Master Baumm. Terreal was scared of this, regular Jedi are easily tricked and could be defeated, but Jedi Masters know what they are doing and usually can not be killed by a simple fight. Terreal knew that he was no match to a Jedi master. Terreal kept calm and when the Jedi walked past him he greeted them, which the Jedi Master ignored completely. After listening in for a second, he discovered that one of the Jedi was a padawan and has anger, and his master did not even warn him that anger led to the dark side. Terreal knew that this could be used to his advantage, maybe if he was truly lucky it would lead to the dark fall of the student and he would have another dark ally on this planet against the Jedi.

[Regnier]

Shame...this is a beautiful planet...serene...and then we came, with our vaunted industrialization. Our destruction. I can feel the...agitation...the tension. I can see how this will end. Because of us...me...bah, enough sulking, Vos. Business before pregnant doging.

By the wall of the starpad a group of blue crates labelled as various mechanical parts sat, slightly scattered, with a tarp thrown over it. If one were to shine a light under the tarp, they might notice a pair of macrobinoculars hidden in the darkness within. There was, however, no figure behind them, but rather a small electronic cube about the size of a die, with a small antannae protruding from the top, connected to the macrobinoculars by a small wire. Beside it, also attached to the wire, was a Nergon-14 charge powerful enough to make the pile of crates vanish entirely. The binoculars focused on the group of Jedi as they stood in wait before the ramp.

A Jedi welcoming committee? They must be important, whoever they are...

Within the administrative building not far from the the starpad, a somewhat unkempt and fatigued man lay on a waiting bench in the reception hall, looking at what appeared to be a datapad, with his back purposely against the wall. The datapad has a direct link to the signal coming from the macrobinoculars. The man raised a brow slightly, and slightly more as more Jedi came out of the ship. He had already scanned the faces of the welcoming committee, and had gotten matches on most of them. Some he hadn't, mostly due to the attire of the Jedi. Cloaks could be such nuisances sometimes. Of the two that came from the ship, of which both he was able to capture full facial shots, he was only able to turn up information about one, the Ortolan.

Jedi Master, eh? Great, just what I need, another one hanging around. Could make things more difficult. Ah well, difficult should be a walk in the park, compared to the usual stuff, right? The man's face turned sour. "Right. I'm screwed." The receptionist and the only other person in the room, a farmer, both gave him odd glances. Nazante shrugged. "Stock prices."

The man had a reason for being on Dantooine, both a legitimate and illegitimate one. To the citizens of Dantooine, he was, for all intents and purposes, a mercenary by the name of Piatre Holimayon who was working for one of the wealthier families on the planet as protection. His real reason was to watch and, if deemed necessary by his superiors, 'make the settlers see reason', as they put it. He was insurance, in case the industrialization didn't look like it was going to be accepted. He was insurance to make the settlers accept it. How was left up to him in the event of its necessity.

[Jenno]

(sorry fer da wait)

Baumm stood. If the young Kel-Dor were attuned enough to The Force, he would note that, as of right now, the Ortolan showed no emotion whatsoever, and there was no eminating Force from him.

"I am not concerned with the burden your instruction is for me. I have taught before, and, as the Council demands, I will do so again."

He said, his eyes darting away for just a moment.

"I have asked you before. What is it that you want? Few your age understand fully what the Jedi are and what we stand for. I have heard your answers and I see nothing behind them. Nothing but the teachings of our order. Come, sit. There is something you should hear."

He sat down on a bench next to a fuel tank.

"Many years ago, before the Jedi Order was as it is today, the great Force practitioners found a way to use The Force to change sentients who were Force-Sensitive. By tapping into their connections to The Force, these Masters could widen the connection, creating more powerful beacons of the Light Side. These Knights were incredibly powerful, perfectly disciplined, and knew nothing of the Dark Side. According to the Jedi Code, they were the perfect Jedi."

He took a breath.

"And yet, these perfect Jedi failed. Every good they attempted to do, they could not perform. Every foe they faced, they could not best. Every task set forth was never completed. It was because, by making them more Force-Sensitive, the Masters had robbed these Jedi of their identities. They could not do good deeds, because they could not decide for themselves what was good. They could not match an opponent, because they did not know their own fighting styles well enough to understand their opponents. And because they did not understand themselves, they could not understand The Force within them."

Baumm looked up at his student.

"The Jedi are, for the most part, good. They do great things. But never should one's committment to the Order outweigh their committment to themself. Now, I ask you once more, my padawan: What is it that you truly want? Who is it that you truly are?"

[\J|K/]

He sat and listened to his master. The words he spoke captured him. It was possible to deepen your connection to the Force... He had always heard the Masters of the academy speak of his connection tot he Force. They never directly spoke to him about his powers but they seemed frightened of his love of battle... But they were always impressed.

Silently he wondered if one chose to deepen their connection to the Force by their free will if they would keep their personal strengths. He knew that he wanted more power, he wanted to be remembered.

"Master, to be quite honest, I want to be remembered. I fear slipping into an idle Knight who has little purpose in the Galactic affairs. I want to be known for my power and strengths.

I want the Sith to know that before they attack an innocent life that there are Jedi like me to whom they will answer.

That, my master, is what I want. I want great things. I can feel a power deep within me that is yearning to be set free. I know that I cannot use this power until I am trained and fashioned like metal to control a terrible power. But master, I know that is there.

I love the Jedi as I love the Republic and democracy. One day I swear to use my full power and protect all that I love with the Power of the Force as my ally. We each have been given blessings from the Force, some can stir the public with words, some move mountains with their mind. I want to fully use my gifts for the Jedi.

He gazed blankly. He had not meant to go on like that, but something his master had said had stirred him. Perhaps it was the fact that Baumm had given him his first lesson that was not via data cards.

[Jenno]

Baumm nodded.

"I had one student before who was remembered..."

He said, turning away. When he faced his student again, he became the same old Master.

"We must be going. There is still peace on this world, and it is up to us to maintain that peace. We will continue later."

He promised, standing and heading away.

[\J|K/]

(sorry for short-ness but we have to get things rolling)

He followed along shyly, he was embarrassed over his outburst but his master had taken it better than he had hoped.

Trailing along, something caught his eyes. A small glint in the distance. His master said this planet was peaceful so he paid it no attention.

"Master, what are we doing here?"

[Jenno]

Master Baumm continued on his way to thier quarters.

"Officially, we have been sent here to deal with the matter of the Sith influence on this world. But I am sure you can sense it. The lack of activity, the lack of focus on this world? Something has happened between the time we left and now. And so, our purpose has changed. Be prepared, padawan. The darkness grows."

The Ex-archivist mused as the sky clouded and it began to rain over the grassy world.



Meanwhile, and unbeknownst to the two Jedi, plans were being drawn up for an attack on Dantooine.

[Regnier]

"Yes, I've planted all I need. When the time comes, any farm within a hundred miles of the administration center will suffer a rather permanent blackout to all of their electronic devices without proper shileding."

"Yes, it will look like the Republic did it."

"Yes, I'm certain about those names I gave you."

Nazante muttered a mild curse to himself as he paced back and forth inside his temporary quarters in the administration building. His mission operators were getting increasingly analytical, and it was starting to get on his nerves.

"Yes, I am sure about those numbers. I've been here twelve days, I've checked, double-checked, and even triple-checked my own count. That is how many Jedi are planetside, unless there are some the never leave the locked portions." He grimaced and nearly swore at the case officer as he heard the next question. "Are you telling me how to do my job? Last I checked, I was the field operative, and you were the case officer. I know how to do my own damn job better than you ever will, so if I hear you ask me that again, I swear I'll skin you alive. Yes, I tried getting in the sub-levels; have you ever tried hacking a Jedi security system?"

"Alright, you've got everything I've got, now tell me what the hell is going on, Lieutenant. You nearly blew my cover calling me here, and just to double-check intel I've already given you."

Nazante listened in silence, continuing to pace. He stopped cold as the operators on the other end of his secure-comm' filled him in. "Now hang on right there; what do you mean, 'stepped up the time-frame'? Are you telling me we're-"

An almost silent Kiffar curse slipped between his lips. "We're actually going to- when, damnit?"

"Already planning it...?" He blinked, shook his head in partial shock, and remained silent for a few seconds to make sure he had heard correctly. "They want me to do what?

"That's what I thought you said...I don't have nearly enough equipment to do that, Lieutenant. Everything I had was for a specific purpose." He clenched his fist and snarled something Huttese. "Don't give me that. I am not a damnable super-spy, some things just can't be done."

"You already made a drop? You're sure it was discreet? One-hundred percent?"

"You know, I listened to you question my every report, now you listen to me. If there is even the slightest chance that drop wasn't secure, I will not touch it. My cover goes, I'm finished, and you lose half your operation. So, I'll ask you again, and this is a direct question, Lieutenant. Is it secure?"

"Fine. I'm uploading all my trigger commands and control mechanisms to you now. If you don't hear from me in six hours time, do what needs to be done. Vos out."

Brilliant...just brilliant. How do you get yourself into these things? I swear, it's like they're trying to make you fail.

And so, Nazante collected his gear and started out to pick up the dead drop. His objective, insane as it was and doomed to fail, he had every intention of trying his fullest to follow through. He didn't have the luxury of anything else.

His last given directive: turn the Jedi Enclave into a crater.

I am so screwed...

[Jenno]

(High-five to Reignier for excellence in NPCing!!!)

It had been three hours since they landed. Master Baumm had followed protocol exactly, checking in upon arrival for breifing. It never came. It was as if the problem had never existed. Indeed, since arriving, the Ortolan had heard absolutely nothing concerning the potential Industrialization of Dantooine.

Master Baumm cesed his pacing in the Enclave`s library. He stepped over to a chair at a desk strewn with datacards. He sat down and listened intently to the light humming of those cards left on. And the Jedi master meditated.




The Republic had been created by men. It had been created out of hardship, the hardship of being isolated in the galaxy. The Republic was men, and women, and sweat and tears and the blood, both of families and of wars fought to protect those families. These were good things. These things were noble and selfless, these things of family and of togetherness. These things were good. These thigns were the Republic. And so, obviously, the Republic was good. The Jedi had long ago seen this good and had sided with the Republic, acting as protectors of this good and noble family of worlds, created by and from men.

But the sith were not of men. They were not born out of hardship or humility, but rather was the sith empire made. Created out of money and out of power, the sith empire protected not the families who inhabited it, but rather the money that had bred it. For the sith empire needed money. It took all money it was supplied with and in return gave to those who had fed it power. But the sith empire was not a living thing. It could not feed itself. It was a machine. An enginge of industry with a thousand mouths in a thousand banks, ravenous with hunger. But it was not the normal hunger of one that is starved, for only a living thing can truly understand and feel hunger. It is the hunger of a furnance, constantly burning. And money is its feul. This much, at least was understod by those who had created the empire. And so these men, who thought they were in control of the machine, who thought they pulled the levers and turned the knobs, frantically scurried, turning the power given to them by the machine into more money to feed, so that they may gain more power with which to gain more money. Little did they realize, that the machine had no levers, it had to knobs to turn. All they knew of was the furnace, that raging fire which consumed constantly. What they could not see, blinded by the smoke from the furnace, was the rest of this wicked machine. And they would never see, because this machine did not want them to.

Because the sith empire was not men. The sith empire did not feed solely off of money. The men did not operate the machine. The machine controlled the men who had created it, it was more powerful, and it continued to operate even as both money and men burned in the furnace.

But the inferno had to continue. This was the silent agreement between man and machine. This was why the machine produced power. And in order to continue the fire, the men needed more money, more feul.

But money would not suffice forever, and the men needed something else to burn, new fuel to appease the furnace.

And in that instant Master Baumm came to a realization. The sith had stopped their industrialization because they did not need the money from Dantooine. That would not suffice. They needed something else to burn. They needed to burn Dantooine. Money was not the feul anymore. Worlds were the fuel. Worlds, men, and families. The only way for the machine to continue would be to burn the Republic.

The Jedi Master awoke and turned to face his student.

"We must leave. Now."

(So yeah, Reignier, if you wanted to, you know, do something that might prevent us from leaving, like, right now, that would be great.)

[Regnier]

((Welcome to Jedi Exit Prevention 101))

"Piatre Holimayon. I believe you have a package for me?"

"Ah, Mister Holimayon, allow me to check." The receptionist at the administration reception desk scrolled through his data terminal briefly. "Your package was recieved, and placed inside the hanger your ship is docked at, near the entry door, as the instruction dictated."

"Thank you." Nazante said with a quick nod. He turned on his heel and walked out the door, heading immediately for the public hangers. His comm earpiece chirped halfway there. "Holimayon."

Almost immediately, his demeanor changed to annoyance and his voice dropped and turned into a restrained tone. "Stop calling me like this, befire you get me caught." He narrowed his eyes and slowed his pace, but didn't stop as he listened. "Define 'change in directives'."

Then he did stop, though he quickly caught himself and kept walking. "What do you mean, belay last order? I'm at the hanger now to pick up the package, and you want me to pull back?"

"So you want me to- great. Do you have any idea how difficult that's going to be? Nevermind, don't answer that. I'll need equip-" He stopped mid-sentence and smirked as he entered the pass-code to the hanger the ship he had been given for the mission was docked. "Came with the first package, eh? Remind me to thank Bolton after I castrate you. Now, what's this about an Opportunity?"

"That I can do. Give me a half-hour to finish that before you activate Protocol Six again. If I get captured, I don't want to risk the Jedi pumping me for intel with their hand-waving crap."

-----

Within twenty-five minutes, every ship in the public, private, and even Jedi hangers in the area, including his own, save one, sustained cascade failures in their engine, nav, and power systems, as well as the loss of several key components. The damage Vos had done wasn't easily reversible, either. Every missing piece had to be replaced to even contemplate getting off the ground, and every sabatoged electrical system would likely never run again without partial to complete replacement. Viruses followed by EMP devices had a knack for ruining electronics.

The last ship left untouched: the transport the latest group of Jedi had come in on. But not for long. Nazante was currently eyeing it over, upside down from mag-clamps. The ceiling had a lovely view, though all the blood was rushing to his head. He clipped a tow-cable to one of the clamps, surveyed the hanger one last time, and descended to the ship below. He checked the room one last time, opened an emergency hatch on the top, dropped inside, and started turning the ship into a giant block of basically useless metal.

[Jenno]

There was danger here. And one didn't need a connection to The Force to figure out where it was coming from. Master Baumm knew by now what would transpire if the sith were left unchecked. And though he had no way of knowing, even through The Force, that the sith had already begun their attack, he knew that it was coming. For safety reasons, his padawan Taren was left behind in his quarters as Baumm made his way to the Council chambers, four levels up, at the ground floor. A few minutes later, baumm showed up to the door and entered the code. The way slid open.

There was a reason why the Jedi Enclave on Dantooine is so important to the Jedi Order. And it was not a religious reason, either. It was the simple fact that Dantooine's position in the galaxy, along the Outer rim and between Hutt and Corporate, and now Sith space, where the Jedi have much less standing, mandates that Dantooine must remain strong so that the Jedi can communicate with these outer systems. Which was why Dantooine had it's own small Jedi council. They were not present here today.

Master Baumm entered and saw the twelve seats, and, stepping over to the communications panel, attempted to activate a link to the Masters at the Jedi High Temple. No reply came. He tried a link to Coruscant. Still no reply. He attempted to bounce the signal off of the Republic world of Onderon, but to no avail. He then called the Republic forces five kilometers away.

Nothing.

Baumm shuddered. They were being jammed. And if they were being jammed, they were being attacked. And if the sith could jam the Jedi, and if the sith were attacking...

The Ortolan's eye widened as he turned and, for the first time in twenty years, ran.

(Hey, Reigner, whenever you want to blow this place up, go for it.)

[Regnier]

”Hmm…that should do it.” Nazante mused to himself as he hung upside-down from the ceiling of the engine compartment. He dropped the sparking device that had recently been attached somewhere, letting it clatter to the floor, and swung himself down, pausing a few seconds to let his head clear. He shook himself and exited the ship as cautiously as he had entered it and glanced around the hanger. It had taken longer than he cared for, but it was done. Dantooine was now effectively without any form of public, military, or private transportation. Unless something was hidden, but that was beside the point. Now he was on to his next objective.

Infiltrating the Enclave further wasn’t going to be a desirable task whatsoever. But, it was his task all the same. Luckily for him, the Jedi Enclave had maintenance ways, and that was exactly where he went. A small droid maintenance shaft that led to the sublevel and split off into more shafts that led throughout the Enclave was located in the wall of the hanger, something that he had barely been able to identify through almost not acquiring full blueprints. But acquire them he had, and now he was mere inches from being quite permanently stuck upside-down in a shaft. After a few minutes and several branches, he dropped into the primary power room of the Enclave, located in the sublevel’s heart. A humanoid maintenance droid looked up from its work and promptly had its head nearly completely severed by a military-grade boot heel. Nazante grimaced, rubbed his lower leg, and sealed the room, before setting about his nefarious work.

Unlike the rest of the planet, there were a lot of items of value in the Enclave that an EMP would destroy, so he had to shut the power down manually. He was glad the power room had very sturdy blast doors, because he was sure the Jedi would take note of the sudden lack of power. With a few quick movements, the Enclave was effectively put into a blackout that wasn’t going to end any time soon. He pulled out several adapters just to be safe, and planted a Nergon-14 charge large enough to vaporize the room on the main generator. Next, he crawled back into the shaft and made his way to the droid maintenance room. After making sure it was clear, he reprogrammed all the droids inside the room to deliver several ‘packages’ throughout the Enclave: a back-up plan, of sorts. It was enough baradium to turn the Enclave and all its entirety into nothing more than a memory.

With that, he attempted to make his exit through the maintenance shafts. The invasion force wasn’t far off now, and though he’d disabled the communications, he still had to detonate the EMPs spread out over the planet’s surface, and if he didn’t move quickly, he’d have to detonate while his own men were planetside and inside the radius of one of the devices. Command would not like that.

((Ready to move whenever you are))

[Jenno]

Darkness.

Then, the flicker of the Enclave's emergency lights.

Then, darkness again.

The power had been disabled. The Enclave had been infiltrated, and the Jedi sabotaged. And, were it not for the fact that this meant almost certain death for the Jedi, many of whom were fleeing the building just, Jedi Master Meenu Baumm, who was also fleeing, would have been impressed. The Sith had certainly done their research.

Turning a corner in the sublevel and making his way for the back exit, Baumm passed by one of the disabled power boxes. And, though he was running, his eyes managed to catch a slogan on the side of the box:

Lighting up the Galaxy,
Mzedra Utilities,
Muunilist.

Well, that explains how the Sith knew how to shut us down... Baumm thought as he made it to the back exit. The door was locked. He heard shouting. Apparently, all the doors were locked. Master Baumm turned back to the younger jedi who had attempted, and failed to, break through the doors by way of lightsaber. He sighed, took a step back and faced the small door. He raised a palm and concentrated.

Now, the doors at the Jedi Enclave were not only designed to resist lightsabers, but they were also designed to be resistant to most standard Force attacks on the doors themselves. Due to the inner mechanisms within the doors, anything but the exact motion of the door locking device would put the door into total lockdown, as well as activating the force-resistant energy shields, which, unfortunately, operated on a separate generator, which was apparently working still. So, if a door was locked in the enclave, and one had not spent hours researching inner door-locking mechanisms, that door was going to stay locked. But, of course, Jedi Master Meenu Baumm had read that particular data card seventeen times.

A click sounded within the door, followed by the creaking of the sliding panels. The door unlocked itself. Smiling, Master Baumm decided not to waste any further time with the door, and pressed forward one last time, blasting the door off entirely, and into the grassy outdoors. He stepped outside and prepared to run again. But a buzzing in his mind drew his attention back to the Enclave. He. turned back around and saw two droids roving through the hall he had passed through, carrying something. He focused on the signature of the mineral through The Force, smelled it from a distance.

Baradium.

One of the droids stopped and placed his load down on the ground in front of him.

Master Baumm knew enough about baradium not to stick around.


(And....cue the fireworks!)

[Regnier]

((Missfire? Missfire?!? Who packed that charge?!?))

Click. Nazante glanced at his detonator and raised an eyebrow. He pressed the button again. Click. Odd…shouldn’t there be a confirmation signal? Or…a fireball? Concussive blast? Flying debris? A big whooshing sound? Something? Bugger… He pressed it again, just for kicks and giggles.

Click.

Clickclickclickclickclickclickclick.

”Damnit. Military equipment. Always works.” That complicated things considerably. He dropped the detonator and shot it a few times. For about a minute, a constant stream of colorful and multilingual curses sounded from a nearby hill that overlooked the Enclave that would make a Mandalorian blush. Then another blaster shot.

He muttered one last curse and pulled out another detonator. This one, however, was the true last defense switch. The first switch was set to first confirm it was locked into the specific charges, then set them off in a pre-designed order to minimize the overall blast but still obliterate the Enclave upon the second press. The second detonator, however, while much more reliable, was designed to set off everything at once, which would take a sizable chunk out of the landscape. Including himself. He set it in his belt and froze as something caught his eye. An Ortolan. He cursed mentally at his luck. Firstly, though, he had to contact the invasion forces. Then he could pursue.

Before he could, however, his communicator chirped.

”Holimayon.”

”Boss? Strike Team Two. Us’n Three hit dirtside and have started unpacking your ‘presents’. We’re moving to you now, and Three should have the stuff in the crates you left in the hanger assembled before the fleet arrives.”

”Confirmed.”

((Move to the other thread? I have a ‘present’ for Ardy I can try and run you down there, and I’m trying not to obliterate everything before Xao gives the go <_<))