The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on May 6, 2013 13:57:05 GMT -8
Rutil said nothing in response. If this Nexus character wanted to talk a big game, Rutil was more than happy to listen. It would make his downfall all the more satisfying.
Without a word, Rutil sprinted forward, his legs propelled by the Force, closing the space between them in the blink of an eye. But instead of attempting to run the Sith Lord through with his bright blue blade, the grizzled Jedi stopped and slid to the ground, sending a good amount of sand up and into the masked man. Rutil couldn't help but wonder what would happen if he blinded those pretty blue eyes for a spell.
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The Shepherd
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Affiliation: Yavin IV Praxeum
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Post by The Shepherd on May 4, 2013 21:15:31 GMT -8
Rutil simply stood there, saying nothing. The heat was subsiding as the surface of the planet rotated away from the binary stars it orbited, but there was still enough to force sweat out of most creatures. It was times like this where Rutil felt vindicated in his choice of robes; lightweight, relatively brightly-colored, and boasting sleeves cut off at the elbow to allow freedom of movement and - particularly important on a day like this - cool.
He could feel the Sith nearby. The very air seemed repugnant, and despite his lack of fear Rutil couldn't help but notice a chill shoot up his spine. Taking his battered, scarred lightsaber in his old, calloused hands, Rutil flicked a switch and the blue blade shot forth from the hilt.
"C'mon now, boy. I thought Sith were fearless. Why're you hiding?"
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Apr 27, 2013 20:11:16 GMT -8
I'll be there, going wherever I'll be useful.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Apr 27, 2013 12:28:36 GMT -8
Someone patch me in on the Jedi side. Quote's acting funny.
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The Shepherd
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Post by The Shepherd on Apr 27, 2013 12:25:55 GMT -8
With every slow exhalation, Jedi Guardian Rutil Iorek did little more than growl. His scarred arms were folded into his chest, his legs stood firmly apart as if to defend himself, and his green eyes were locked squarely on the eye sockets of the dull grey skull that seemed to stare back at him.
So this was what Master Man'sell had been talking about. The droid - or, rather, what was left of it - smelled absolutely rancid and looked as bad as it smelled. So far as the grizzled Zabrak knew, the thing had not been at the Praxeum for more than two weeks, and suddenly the complete lack of investigation into the machine's origins was somewhat understandable. It was a nanite-based form of synthskin, or so the official report said, which would have allowed the droid to bypass basic bioscanning; real tissue, molded into a liquid form and maintained in a type of suspended animation by the microscopic robots embedded within. And with no power to keep the nanites active, the organic component of the synthskin was free to degrade and rot. The degraded disguise certainly gave the droid it concealed a much more cadaver-like atmosphere.
Rutil still could not believe the droid had not been looked into. Yes, the Battlemaster wanted to investigate the droid personally. Yes, there could be a Mandalorian attack at any moment that would force all non-vital personnel to evacuate. Yes, it had come dangerously close to killing a Jedi. But it was not just a droid? Rutil made no claim to being especially talented with machines, but with two hours and the right tools he could probably have a few leads as to who built the droid and why. Whoever it was, however, the Jedi knew he lacked a good deal of common sense. Neuranium? An assassin droid was supposed to be stealthy. Lithe. Even a low-grade cortosis alloy would have had similar blaster-deflecting properties. So why, then use the single densest metal on record? Once the investigation began, perhaps the answer would reveal itself.
The broken-horned Knight ran a finger along the droid's skull, taking care to avoid the patches of black hair that still dotted its scalp. A fine layer of dust came off of the thing, an odd mixture of the room's own relative lack of cleanliness and dirt it had gathered on the desert world Master Man'sell had pulled it and a near-dead Jedi from. Rutil gave another growl.
Ordinarily, Rutil held rank in very serious esteem; despite having all of the abilities and most of the attributes of a Jedi Master, the Zabrak absolutely refused to grant himself the title. But so far as this was concerned? The main investigator had not so much as taken the lid off of the crate and the victim - one of his old students, no less - had once again gone missing. And the next time he saw either of them, rank could hang. Rutil wanted answers. And one way or another, those two were going to deliver.
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The Shepherd
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Affiliation: Yavin IV Praxeum
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Post by The Shepherd on Apr 21, 2013 12:11:47 GMT -8
Yes. Yes. Yes. Yes. Still here, still willing, still wanting to bash some Mando helmets in.
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