Diva, from Aeons Torn
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Post by Diva, from Aeons Torn on May 12, 2014 7:32:55 GMT -8
Elsewhere,
But nowhere, an object of essence that was not unlike the very essence of Dagobah itself tumbled down through the foggy canopy at 54 meters per second, spinning end over end until it split down the center of a tree and sent a thunderous gout of dirt that was not unlike an artillery piece striking a random clump of mud. There is a slinging of mud, and the crushing of a few trees, along with the sinking of a thousand year old cesspool that had up to this point housed a elderly family of one of a kind turtle. Oh well. No more.
To say the smoke cleared after the landing was inaccurate; it was always foggy and smoky on Dagobah. However, it did relent enough to show what appeared to be sad little girl laying in a dung-heap, crying with the voice of an adult that did not match the frame. Crying, it was, leaking black ink down and out the sides of its blue eyes and purple mouth.
Crying:
"Kuroro. . . ."
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John Wilson
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Post by John Wilson on May 12, 2014 19:58:29 GMT -8
John lay upside down against the wall, the knot in his forehead growing larger. He had just enough time before the turbulence had hit to secure the welding equipment and other dangerous materials. John never thought that Quinton would do such a thing while something so dangerous was happening. Then again he thought the same thing the last few times as well. John slowly rolled him self right side up. If there was one thing that he knew, it was that his captain wouldn't have done such a descent unless he smelled credits. Forcing the foreboding thoughts from his mind John started suiting up. He still couldn't believe that he was the only one with battle armor and an assault rifle.
As John finished the last buckles of his armor, he noticed his wrench laying in the corner. Before heading out of the room he placed the tool in its proper place on the nightstand and gave it a fond farewell. As the door shut, a smile found its way onto his face.
I'll be back soon with plenty of things for you to tinker with.
The door to the bridge opened and revealed john rubbing the welt on his head. Stepping out onto the platform he gave a greeting to his fellow crew mate and captain. Silently thanking whatever force maybe up there that he made it before that flute blowing doctor.
Pleasure to see you Myri. Quinton, you almost killed me again and the welds aren't finished.
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Diva, from Aeons Torn
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Post by Diva, from Aeons Torn on May 14, 2014 6:52:38 GMT -8
Again: elsewhere in the thicket of mud slapped trees a deviant self sustained on rampant normalcy decides to rise. Weeping never did solve anything. Pressing matters such as the need to feed arose, and on a planet such as this there certainly was a diverse set of creatures for the distinguished palette. Why, she could even detect human presences- here, on a supposedly forgotten planet which was rediscovered every few hundred years. It was a long hike, but there was no living thing that didn't deserve attention.
Humming funeral marches, the Countess of Blue Roses plods through the jungle murk, splashing those old combat boots into the squishy places.
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Quinton Scott
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Post by Quinton Scott on May 14, 2014 11:45:27 GMT -8
Quintion stood on the bridge looking out at the surface of Dagobah through the viewport. He could understand why this planet's location wasn't in the ships navicomputer. He couldn't understand why anyone would want to come to this damned planet. He knew he would have never come here if it were not for that transmission, and whoever was the owner of that distress beacon was probably not here by choice.
He shook his head as he turned around hearing the turbolift doors open.
Well, I pay my crew with the credits in the 'coffers', and right now that does not include punctuality. Thats why we're here.
Watching his engineer step out of the turbolift Quinton laughed at John's statement.
I guess you can add this to the tally then. What are we up to 6, or 7 now? Sorry, thought you would have been done with the welds.
Looking at the turbolift it did not open a third time. He waited a moment but grew impatient. He could talk to the doctor when he got up here, his job was different from theirs anyway.
In the interest of time ill tell you why I called you up here without our illustrious doctor. Currently we are hovering above a distress beacon which hopefully is the same one that sent the message that we received earlier. Now because this force forsaken world is so, well swampy, we cant land the ship. Thats where you two come in. Im going to bring the ship as close to the ground as I can and then you two will descend the rest of the way using the winch in the cargo bay.
He walked over to the helm and sat down, turning back to face his crew.
I want you two to find this, well whoever is down there. Lets see how our resident ambassador does with actually ambassadorial duties. John I want you and that rifle in case well, you remember that one time on Kashyyyk. I want a constant comm channel open. And don't take any chances, If something goes wrong, either eliminate whatever is the threat, or get out of there.
He turned around and started to bring the ship down.
Now if you two don't have any questions I'd like to spend as little time on this planet as possible. Im going to set you down in a small clearing, It looks like it fairly close to where the sensors say the beacon is.
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Bevyn Perwar
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Post by Bevyn Perwar on May 14, 2014 19:27:11 GMT -8
Bevyn had fallen asleep. This is not normal for his species. For a normal Bith this would be a sign of concern, something wrong with their genome, but Bevyn was not worried. Bevyn had began to teach himself how to sleep not long after he joined the Sabre of Layne. He learned that you don't feel hunger pains when you are sleeping. While in the meditative state that Bith normally rested in the pain felt almost amplified. It was odd for him, however, to fall asleep so unexpectedly. He couldn't quite understand it but as soon as he returned to his quarters a wave of fatigue washed over him. Bevyn was unsure as to why that was, he would like to credit it to his insomnia, a sleeping disorder that ran like a plague through the intelligentsia of that time, but he felt otherwise. It was not important to Bevyn when he had awoke however, he was more concerned about being late. Bevyn abhorred tardiness. He quickly threw on his lab coat and groggily shambled over to the turbolift, forgetting about Myrianna's specimen in the computer.
He pulled his personal datapad from his coat pocket as the turbolift announced its arrival to the bridge with a loud whine. Bevyn sheepishly stepped out, not wanting to interrupt the captain during his landing. The crew looked annoyed. He didn't blame them. He peered at the welt on the engineers head and began typing into his datapad.
"Fascinating... from that lump on your head, Johnathon, I can safely say that you are finally evolving into a human! Though, it might need to get a bit bigger if you want to fit a functional brain in there... oh well, progress is progress."
The Bith giggled to himself and updated his datapad, changing the race entry for, "John Wilson," from, "Gundark," to, "Human." He turned back to the captain.
"Captain, I am ready. When we land I am going to ask all of you to carry a medpack. I wanted to outfit them personally but... time escaped me. My apologies for that. They should help in the event any of you are injured and we cant get to you. But, if i could give a tip, don't go out alone. This planet worries me...
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Deleted
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Post by Deleted on May 15, 2014 15:06:09 GMT -8
The tree creaked as Zeraph climbed it, musty and dank bark wetly protesting as boots dug into its surface. Inwardly, he was slightly worried; the trees here had a reproductive cycle in which the roots actually broke off and became flesh eating spiders - the knobby white spider as they were called. He hated to think perhaps the tree would somehow remember and hunt him for his transgression. It was a paranoid thought, though on this swampy world one couldn't be too careful; from poisonous fruit, to living flesh eating trees, to vicious blaster proofed apex predators, this world was deadly to the uninitiated and dangerous to even a veteran survivalist. Pushing the tree out of his mind, Zeraph continued his climb, slowly easing himself onto a limb - testing its weight before he did so of course - and surreptitiously pulled the bow off his back. Some ten meters below him, not too far away, was a very large lizard, some two or three feet in length.
"Supper..."
Pulling an arrow from his quiver, he knocked the arrow and slowly drew. It had taken him some time to fashion the bow; most of the wood here was wet and rotting, making a suitable spar a hard thing to come by. Once he had found one, came the long process of sealing it - with a mixture of rodent gall from an intestinal sack and his own urine - so that it wouldn't rot itself if left out. Arrowheads were easy to come by - he used the teeth of the animals he killed - indeed the hardest part in the whole ordeal was getting feathers to stabilize his arrows with. Eventually, he had settled on using a strange kind of membranous yet sturdy leaf from one of the *less* lethal plants near his home. The end result was a crude but effective weapon...though he didn't fancy using it on something massive like a dragonsnake or killer slug. Drawing the arrow back, he sighted down the shaft, lining the lizard up for the shot...then steadied himself as the tree he was in swayed in the breeze. Several seconds passed, the shot was perfect, and then...he froze. Breeze? The hell? There was no wind on this planet. In a flash, the arrow was un-knocked and sequestered back in its quiver, the bow slung back over his shoulder. Grasping the tree, he climbed higher...higher...almost to the top in fact, and peering out across the mist filled canopy, was a sight that he thought we would never see again. A ship. Hovering. An ACTUAL ship.
"An AEG-77 by the looks of it..."
A medium sized craft, not a heavy hitter unless it was modified, plenty of space though, and fast enough...a smuggler crew maybe? Mercenaries? Or maybe it was owned by it's manufacturers - was blacksun back to see what they could get out of him? Fat chance. Eyeing the ship, Zeraph silently clung to the tree, eyes squinting through the fog. It would be impossible for them to get any life scans, even if they sat right next to him...he would have to search them out. He'd also have to ascertain whether or not they were dangerous. Normally it wouldn't be that big an issue...what with a lightsaber and all. 'course, with it in pieces, all he had was his own body, a bow, and the force...
"More than enough."
His body was a large reason as to why he was still alive. Modified with a cardio-muscular implant, he was several times stronger and resilient than an average human. Coupled with a hi-fold sensory implant, and his species inherent healing ability, he had the strength, senses, and healing ability on par with many of the species on this world...it gave him an edge in surviving here. What, and the fact he had the force on his side. That wasn't to say he was invincible though...trained in one on one combat, he knew better than most that numbers and proper planning could take anyone down. Hell, wasn't that how he got imprisoned on this mudball in the first place?
He shook the thought out of his head. Sliding down out of the tree, he began the slow trek back to his home. He'd have to wade through swamp and mist...it would be likely that they would already be on the ground before he got back. Still though, that didn't mean he couldn't do some investigating. Stretching out his senses, he allowed the force to flow into his mind and into his thoughts. Normally, it would be practically impossible to get a distinct reading of life forms through the force on this world...the sheer amount of life meant that the living force was strong indeed, obscuring the senses. Several factors contributed to Zeraph's efforts though; firstly, he was familiar with this particular patch of land - he knew of the creatures and their burrows, of the dangerous pools and the safe ones, of the trees who were ready to hatch and the trees that were old and ancient. Additionally, the ship showed up as a large blight of non-life through the force...an hovering mass of metal that held several bright points of light on it. Conscience, sentient minds...alone in a forest they would be impossible to find...but clustered together and hovering above the forest...much easier. Reaching out with his presence, he gently passed over the minds within. He felt...vague impressions, feelings. Annoyance? A throbbing pain? Trepidation? The impressions made no sense to Zeraph. He didn't truly sense any malice or anger though...they weren't here to kill him at least. Another pass, over a light brighter than the rest. Like a snake, Zeraph's mind recoiled at what it felt, and Zeraph almost fell over at what he felt.
"Jedi!"
Well, a force sensitive at least. He felt the power off the sentient. And he felt no malice or anger...so what else could it be but a jedi? No other force sensitives came here, and only Jedi came here to meditate or be imprisoned. Such as himself. Allowing the force to slip from his mind, Zeraph set his mouth into a hard line, walking a little faster to reach the ship. Perhaps they were here to evaluate him. Maybe his sentence could be reduced. And if not...well...there was always violence. That worked well enough.
Across the force, a faint probing mind would surely be felt by the force sensitive on board the visiting ship. Zeraph, his talents laying in telepathy and mind manipulation, was surely skillful enough that the rest of the crew wouldn't notice; though perhaps the more observant would feel an odd chill. For the forceful onboard though, she would surely feel impressions; an alien mind, direct, calculating, albeit surprised and cautious. The impression of ground moving underfoot, of a ship seen in the distance. Intent; intent to find the ship.
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Post by Myriana Phaeonei Abaraxi Lemep on May 15, 2014 20:42:28 GMT -8
OOC: This is a conjoined post between me, Bevyn and John.
Myriana: “Wow. You had him listed as a Gundark?”
Bevyn: “Why not? He sure acts like one. Besides, if he did end up dying and this stuff was necessary it’s not like his family would miss him. There are no family contacts on his record. ”
John: “To be honest, he’s right. My family wouldn’t miss me.”
Myriana: “How horrible!”
Bevyn: “It’s not too uncommon, I suppose; a bit strange for Corellians though.”
John: “So… What was lunch like?”
Myriana: “I made salads with beef tips. You missed out. It was delish.”
Bevyn: “You made us lunch?! I’ve been living off of rations from the med-packs!”
Myriana: “Yes. You missed out, too. I actually ate alone… again…”
John: “Dont worry. I’ll just eat you later.”
Myriana cringes snarkily.
Bevyn: “I imagine Bith meat would be quite unsatisfactory. We are practically living GMOs.
John: “To be honest, fair Doctor, I wasn’t talking to you.”
Bevyn: “I understand what you are implying, fortunately the part of my brain that would find something like that funny atrophied at a young age.”
Myriana: “Ich bin von Idioten umgeben. Can we just go down to the surface and find this guy? I’ll make food for us later.”
Bevyn: “If by ‘food’ you mean that plastic meat wrapped in even more plastic and then boiled in dirty water, count me out.”
John: “Hey! Don’t you ever talk bad about hotdogs!”
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Quinton Scott
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Post by Quinton Scott on May 15, 2014 21:21:47 GMT -8
As Quintion started to lower the ship so that his two of his crew could repel down to the surface, he heard the turbolift open for a third time as the doctor finally made his way onto the bridge. By the time the doctor had made his comment to john, which he had to try very hard not to laugh at, he brought the ship to a stop above a small clearing.
Nice of you to join us Doctor. Just to fill you in John and Myriana are going down on the surfice to find whoever is down there. I want you ready incase anyone gets injured down there or, well if whoever is down there requires medical attention.
Looking back at John and Myriana.
The Doctor is right, both of you grab a medpack before you head down.
He almost brought his palm to his face as he listened to the bantering of his crew. Sometimes he wondered why he chose this profession, and sometimes he thought he didn't have a choice. Reguardless he put the ship back into auto hover and stood up facing his crew.
Well if you are all done chatting, get out there, we have credits to make and a swamp planet that I would like to spend as little time on to leave.
He waited in case there was any more questions that his crew had but by their earlier banter he doubted that. Once they had left the bridge he walked back over to the viewport looking out over the swamp. He took his in ear communicator out of his pocket, placing it in his ear. He then pressed the on switch on the outside of the earpiece truing it on and starting the link between him, Myriana and John.
Comms check.
He continued looking out over the swamp awaiting the reply. He thought that they would be repelling down right about now. He just hoped there wasn't any freaky elements on this planet that would block the comm signal. He knew it was a risk just sending the two of them, but there was nowhere to land the ship. Quintion was used to being one of the boots on the ground, or in the cockpit. He still wasn't used to this kind of command.
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Diva, from Aeons Torn
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Post by Diva, from Aeons Torn on May 16, 2014 20:21:56 GMT -8
Splish. Splash.
Sprinting was unnecessary, since there was never a time to miss. Regardless, the boots squished while making squelching noises. Wet smack here. Bug squashed there. Tasty morsels if bothered with, no doubt, but nothing compared to the glory of what was getting closer and closer. Glory was in the heat, the pumping beats, the happy thoughts, the uncouth ones too, and the bad jokes.
"Oh, my friends: now, here is our vic'tooo'ree, this is our first gloooreee-yah. Oh my friends, celebrate this feel-eeel-ling, till you're down to the last man!"
Breathless, yes. Feigned panting, even more so, but what was a play if it didn't have a worthwhile act? Diva was getting much closer now, using that ungainly power to close gaps with much fervor than crackling electricity. She could even count the separate auras now: five in total, or maybe 483? Math was never her strong point. Fear, however, and presentation, were.
Maybe they would get the hint before she got there? That would be bad. Interesting, but bad. Deciding this would make the new game much better, she throws off waves of her presence ahead towards the still distant zone of investigation. They would react, ignore it, fail to grasp it, or any other number of reactions. Finding out how this group of living things handled the process is exactly the kind of thing she sought to understand- with a smile.
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Post by Myriana Phaeonei Abaraxi Lemep on May 16, 2014 20:56:23 GMT -8
As Myriana finished her rappel and landed on the soft Dagobah surface, her boots seemed to sink several inches into the mud. The air around her was thick with moisture, cold and barely thick enough to block vision, which gave the shady trees and every and any moving object a significantly more terrifying quality. Her immediate thought was that it was exactly like her father had described: cold, damp and reeking of bad juju. So, naturally, when a wave of discomfort, further intensified over time into fear, it almost did not jump out at her as abnormal.
Suddenly, it hit her: her client was not the only being on Dagobah. Someone else, someone foreign, strange, was stalking the surface with them. Someone... happy. In a horrifying way. It brought Myriana no comfort at all.
When she had processed that, she stopped. Clearing her mind and closing her eyes, Myriana purged her soul of emotion, allowing the Force to flow through her mind. In that moment of clarity, devoid of her fear, she released a small, almost innocuous thought across the Force.
I feel you there.
Suddenly a crack in her comlink snapped Myriana back to her present state: cold and somewhat fearful. She pressed a finger against her ear and spoke into her comm.
:: I read you, Cap'n. We're on the ground. It's dark out here. ::
Her hand gently wafted down to her right-hand pocket, where, hidden under the holster, were her lightsabers. Silently, she asked whatever luck was watching her to not force her to use them, and drew her blaster pistol in anxiety. It took less than five seconds to miss the state of calm she had attained a few moments ago, but she needed her wits about her if she intended to live. Which, she did.
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Diva, from Aeons Torn
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Post by Diva, from Aeons Torn on May 19, 2014 5:24:18 GMT -8
"Oh! Oh! She feels me here?! I want to feel her too!"
But, of course, there were others that would endeavor to stand in the way of that, without a doubt. They would use crude blasters with super hot tips to melt away the innocence of curiosity: what did she feel like inside? Did she have a small intestine like other squishy humans? Did she have a fully stocked rib cage, or hypertension? So much to discover. So much.
Diva did the proper thing, rather that spring into a clearing only to be met with resistance. She instead produces her own little helper, the red gripped overlong lightsaber hilt and aims it upwards while continuing that jog. With a button press, a whipping beskar tipped grappling hook puffs upward and grabs a hold of something solid. That something solid was the ship. Without much more fuss, the snow white skinned manifestation zips upwards with a little grin -eventually pinning herself upside down like a spider on the underside of ship. Surveying now with irisless, black pools serving as eyes, the lover of blue makes no attempt to withdraw her stinging force presence, and watches.
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John Wilson
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Post by John Wilson on May 20, 2014 13:07:53 GMT -8
As John landed he felt himself sinking the the mud. He knew a swamp planet wouldn't be clean, but some solid ground would of been nice. One thing was for sure, John couldn't wait to get out of here. clouded vision, mysterious creatures, Trees reaching up to the sky with roots making tunnels throughout the landscape; If anything could be gathered from this place it was that They weren't welcome. After a quick check of the equipment John heard his comlink. He pressed a finger against his helmet and spoke.
Quinton, I'm not sure what you got us into this time but lets get on with it. My datapad says we should go East, but I want to confirm before we start marching. Visibility is limited down here so we need to make sure our equipment is synced before we get out of sight.
John removed his finger the helmet and gave a quick look over to Myri.
Are you alright? You look a little spooked. Are you sure you don't want to leave this up to me?
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Quinton Scott
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Post by Quinton Scott on May 20, 2014 16:37:00 GMT -8
As Quinton waited for Myriana and John to respond over the comms he felt a slight chill for a moment. At first he just thought that the damn environmental systems were malfunctioning again, but it went away just as soon as it came. He looked back down over the surface, he was starting to get a worse and worse feeling about this as time went on. He just hoped that this would be a short mission.
Good I can hear you both loud and clear. Look I want both of you to spend as little time as possible down there. Find whoever down there and get them back to the ship.
He took a few steps over to the sensors.
Yes, the beacon looks like it is transmitting a little under a quarter mile to the east. Its not far but the tree cover looked thick from the air so be careful. I'm also getting good readings from both of your commlinks, looks like everything seems to be synced up. Now go find this guy.
Quintion walked back over to the helm and sat down. He couldn't keep just standing there, he had to be ready in case anything happened. Although he had no idea what he could do, the whole reason why they were doing this is that there was nowhere to land the ship. He hoped he wouldn't need to make a place to land. He looked over at the Bith Doctor who was still on the bridge.
Hay Doc, you ever used a sensor array on a ship before?
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Bevyn Perwar
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Post by Bevyn Perwar on May 20, 2014 19:03:57 GMT -8
Bevyn put away his personal datapad he was fiddling with and scoffed before rising from his seat and sauntering his way to the sensor array.
"I have, well, passable knowledge. Better than most I would imagine, but you didn't hire me to be a sensor technician so... I'm about that good."
He flicked a few switches and pressed a few buttons before watching the sensor array hum to life.
"I was taught by the captain of the 'Bearded Sun,' a ship that would make frequent supply drops to Clak'dor VII. He was a rodian man, he taught me to speak Rodese actually, his ship was much more advanced than this one."
Bevyn became a little flustered when he realized what he had said. Quinton didn't love many things in this world, in fact Bevyn speculated that he loathed more things than he liked, but he loved The Sabre of Layne more than his own life. Bevyn tried to cover his tracks.
"N-not that your ship isn't, uh, advanced or anything sir it's just that, uh, well, his ship worked? Was functional? It was just..."
Bevyn soon realized he was digging his own grave and preceded to turn his back to his captain and huddle over the sensor array. He kept track of the two dots that signified the location of Myrianna and John. Keeping track of two dots is harder than you would imagine in Dagobah, the entire screen seemed awash with blinking green signals, some even on the ship. Bevyn thought nothing of it though, assuming it was a fault in the aging sensor array.
"I am, uh, tracking our crew members cap. I will tap into the comms as well, just in case the castaway doesn't speak basic."
Bevyn did just that. He tapped his own communicator into the ships comm line and began talking to the away team.
:: Alright, Myriana, this is Bevyn, I wanted to warn you that while I may be able to track you I really cant help you against approaching danger. It is hard enough following you, this entire planet it lit up it is impossible to see what is going where. Be careful. ::
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Post by Myriana Phaeonei Abaraxi Lemep on May 20, 2014 20:11:04 GMT -8
Myriana paused. The shadow that she had felt, the strange presence... it was close. Far too close. When, once, it had felt as though it was all around her, but perhaps a great distance away, now it felt as though it was right on top of her. In fact, it felt very familiar to her; her father had a similar presence when he stalked about the Firaxa, the ship he called home. It was a spacious vessel, with wide, tall hallways that he would often travel afoot on the ceilings of.
Briefly, her head snapped to the side, and she glanced up into the canopy of the Dagobah swamp. Moss hung like cold, bony fingers ready to snatch her. The trees bent onto one another inside a thick blanket of fog. And there, just in the corner of her eye, much to her horror, was the presence she sensed: a pale female hanging from the hull of the ship. Immediately her head snapped back to in front of her. Try as she might, a hint of fear crept onto her face as she looked to John.
"N-no, I'm not alright. You go on ahead and figure out what you can. I'll... wait here a bit and catch up to you."
In the intensity of the moment, she did not hear her comrades on the radio. Her thoughts raced back and forth between two facts: the first was that there was a very powerful, very mysterious, and probably unfriendly being hanging like a Mynock from the hull of the Sabre, and the second was that as long as she was there, John, Dr. Perwar and the Captain were in danger. All she could think to do was send John as far away from the spectre as she could get him and hope to talk to it.
H-hello, she spoke mentally to the other person. Who are you? W-what do you want?
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Post by Deleted on May 20, 2014 22:35:40 GMT -8
The forest parted into a clearing before him, the ship hovering above it, and Zeraph paused at its edge to peer into the mist. He was cautious now...more than cautious actually; sometime ago he had felt the rolling presence of another unknown individual, a dark and foreboding power that was stained all too heavily with the dark side. How this presence had come to the planet he did not know, with the constant thunder and roiling storms, a ship or pod like his own could have been easily masked. What he did know though, was that this individual was powerful...though, like himself, was blinded to his own presence as he was to the unknown individual. He had at first thought the being was seeking him out, throwing off waves as it did, but he soon had realized that he was simply in the way of the mental ripples...and that its intended target was the force sensitive on the ship. The being, like himself, had felt the lifeforms hanging above the canopy.
So he had stalked through the brush, careful to keep his presence as innocuous as possible, to observe the situation. He had seen a pair of forms descend from the belly of the ship. An armored human with a rather conspicuous looking assault rifle, and a jumpsuit covered human woman, the force sensitive as best he could tell. He watched as she nervously exchanged some words - indistinct words, as they were too far away for him to hear - though by her tone and gestures, it seemed like she was shooing him away. A telltale flicker of her eyes, a seeming stare up at the belly of the ship, shrouded in mist, was the only indication that something was...off. He felt the fear in her, even from here. And he felt the mental probe that she shakily extended to the...
Ah. There it was.
A pale woman, humanoid, clung to the underside of the ship, like some dark spider. From her, curiosity, dark glee, and something else radiated in palpable waves. She wanted to be seen, she wanted to be known. Inwardly, Zeraph cringed slightly. The woman didn't understand the creature she was dealing with. Before Zeraph was a jedi, he was a Zeison Sha; a master of telekinesis and using the force for survival, it was primarily to that past that he owed most of his ability to survive on this inhospitable planet. The Zeison Sha were more...zealous than the Jedi though, and when Zeraph was saved by a Jedi, his species code of honoring life debts battled with his Zeison Sha philosophy. Eventually he adopted the Jedi's ways as his own - but the Zeison Sha penchant for aggression and for action was always strong. Feeling the need to hunt and pursue those that opposed the order, Zeraph grew strong in battle and dueling...and as a result, had battled many creatures - Sith, grays, and other Jedi alike. This battle experience had earned him a seat on one of the Jedi councils at one point...it had also earned him exile, when battle experience turned to righteous blood lust. Staring at the creature on the underside of the ship, he saw one of the countless Sith and Darkling foes that he had fought in the past. As well as a touch of...something else. Insanity? Bloodlust? Dementia and mania? This one was more unpredictable than the others. He had never met one quite like it. He also knew it would trap the little force adept below like a fly in a spiders web.
Drawing in on the force, Zeraph let the force flow fully into his perception, drawing it into his person, letting it flow across mind and reason. Gathering it, shaping it, he continued drawing it into himself, allowing his presence to become larger and larger. Stepping out of the trees at the edge of the clearing, he threw his own presence towards the pair - albeit, more at the creature clinging to the ship. He did not know how these sentients would react to a tall humanoid Firrerreo clad in a long coat of sewn bark and plant fiber, not did he know how they would react to his presence, but he did know this; he would have the spider woman's attention. In fact, he demanded it.
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Diva, from Aeons Torn
Member
If blood is the currency of life, then what's its tax collection service?
Posts: 799
Traffic Light: Blue
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Post by Diva, from Aeons Torn on May 22, 2014 8:28:59 GMT -8
Such varied opinions -such determined wastes of life! Well, that wasn't a fair way to sum up the explorer party. In fact, Diva would say that they were very lucky that she had come to them. It was of course happenstance. It was of course luck. Sure, there may be no plan of attack but the overall message and tactic remained the same: preach her gospel, and see who would follow and survive it. Thankfully, it was her. After all, if the hunter that was stalking in the trees found them first, he might have murdered them all without second thought. Sufficed to sya, blood would be the generous donation for her good work -in saving everyone here, of course.
Or at least, that's how her mind would interpret it.
Such tasty morsels, waiting to be teased and plucked. Why such impressive presentations, the Countess of the Blue Roses could not resist. It probably just a little over the top to do this and acknowledge the curious girl like this, but when she was set up so well, she again could not forgo her natural state.
Despite the ridiculous amount of mist, somehow the spider woman manages to stare directly at Myriana, spreading her lips to reveal a set of pearly white teeth glistening with the glimmer shine of saliva -while remaining upside secured firmly upside down upon the hull.
Shhhhheeeee heeee heee. What do I want?
Oh. . .
. . .so
much!
Came the words like an icy knife in the Force. Though it reeked with the presence of malice, the voice spoke like a secret sharing child. This it did happily, before disengaging the grappling the grappling hook and falling quite abruptly into the tree line, punctuated by a flock of strange jungle bird suddenly fleeing upwards and away from the intrusion. The worst part wasn't even the fact that the strange presence was now obscured by the flora of this massive swamp -it was that although that kind of fall should normally kill any living thing, the foul, uneasy presence lingered, shuffling about rapidly from tree to tree, as though it was circling prey.
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Quinton Scott
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Posts: 16
Affiliation: Credits
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Post by Quinton Scott on May 22, 2014 21:47:42 GMT -8
Quintion wasn't surprised that the Doctor had some passable knowledge of starship sensors. It seemed as if he had many hidden talents. In fact the strangest thing about him is that he seemed to act more nervous, well more nervous then usual whenever he was doing anything medical. He guessed that it just part of the job.
He brought his attention back to the ship briefly. A warning light was flashing showing that the number 4 repulserlift seemed to be having trouble again. Well, that was what he got for sending his engineer down on the ground. The ship moved to the left a few feet as he brought the repulserlift offline, and before he brought the number 6 repulserlift offline re balancing the ship. The other repulserlifts should be enough to keep the ship hovering although he was worried about the strain it would put on them if they were here for too long.
Dont worry about it Doc. I would be blind if I told you that this ship was in perfect condition, or well, in good condition. That however, is why we're here.
The sad part about what he said was, it was true. The 'Sabre of Layne' had seen better days, it had also seen worse days. This day however the die had yet to be cast, although it seemed to be leaning to the latter.
He pushed the yoke to the right bringing the ship back to its original location above the clearing.
How close are they to the beacon Doc? Also just how many languages do you speak exactly?
He brought his hand to his ear activating his comlink.
Hows it looking down there?
He knew that Myri and John had only just gotten on the surface, but he was already starting to worry. His mind was starting to second guess his decision to come to this forsaken planet. What if they cant find a direct route to the beacon? What if they... He stopped himself before his mind raced any further and took a deep breath. Everything would be fine. They would find whoever is down there, and then, they could leave.
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Bevyn Perwar
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Affiliation: Quinton
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Post by Bevyn Perwar on May 23, 2014 18:07:55 GMT -8
Bevyn tried to keep track of all the moving dots on the scanner. He knew it was nigh impossible but he didn't have much to do at the moment. A doctor without patients gets antsy, even if its not a medical one. He noticed that the dot that was ailing the ship previously had vanished. This set the Bith's mind at ease; it meant one less thing would go wrong. He thought he saw a blip approaching the away team but it could have been anything, a lizard, a bird, maybe a large insect? Unknown world, unknown possibilities.
"They shouldn't be too far away Captain. Great stroke of luck we found this clearing."
Bevyn was relieved when Quinton asked about his linguistic prowess. Maybe now Mr. Scott will finally realize that he isn't a medical doctor. Bevyn hadn't been shy about sharing that information but something always seemed to distract the Captain before he could register what the Bith had said.
The Bith chuckled,
"Lets just say I could speak Rhyll in 12 different accents. I could translate between a trandoshan and a jawa with near perfect accuracy. I mean my doctorate in is... wait, Captain, has anyone reported in? I have no movement from Myrianna and no response yet. Do you think something could be wrong?"
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John Wilson
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Affiliation: Quinton Scott
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Post by John Wilson on May 23, 2014 22:55:04 GMT -8
John swiftly raised his rifle at the advancing creature. He wasn't sure is this was the man we were looking for, but John couldn't take the risk. After a quick look a Myri John radioed back to Quinton.
I'm not sure, somethings got Myri spooked and this guy just showed up. Just keep your ears open.
"Hey Myri, you're the diplomat what do you think of this guy?"
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